#what sacrifice must I do to recover you my love

[no-time-machine-available]

You don't know how deep you are into Ao3 until the site crashes and you start to feel like a headless chicken.

[aliesbienish]

A pleasant surprise

Summary: Colin returns from his travels with more than just teas and stories.

Paring: Colin ‘my wife’ Bridgerton x Female Reader

—————-

Saying you were nervous was an absolute understatement. In fact the honest truth is that you were on the verge of a panic attack. You knew this meeting was inevitable, had known really ever since you laid eyes on him. But the prospect of shocking, nay disappointing, his entire family made you feel nauseous.

Colin’s hand gently gripping your thigh, stopping your legs nervous bounce, was the only thing keeping you grounded. You could see the grand houses of the ton out the carriage, feel it coming to a halt. It was time, you wanted to run. However the man beside you was enough reason to stay. Colin was the love of your life, and you his. Hopefully his family could see that.

The valet opened the carriage door and you took a deep breath. Colin alighted first, then giving you his hand to help you out. Bridgerton house was stunning, flowers drooping from vines that ran up the brick walls. The sweet smell of the flowering wisterias engulfing you. You gripped Colin’s hand as he led you straight in, not bothering to wait at the front door.

The grand entrance opened in front of you, and you could see it was just as beautiful as the exterior. The walls, painted a lovely shade of baby blue, hung portraits showcasing the happy family. You let go of Colin to examine a painting of him in his youth but was interrupted by a shriek.

“Colin, your home!” A young girl screamed with delight as she ran and wrapped him in a hug. ‘This must be Hycainth’ you thought smiling. The commotion caused a flurry of footsteps and soon a mass of people were descending into the foyer from all directions. Each gave Colin a spirited greeting ranging from tight hugs to affectionate forehead kisses. Last to arrive was a beautiful women who had to be Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, taking him in her arms and whispering how happy she was he was home. The closeness of the family brought a grin to your face.

And then suddenly you were spotted Hycainth and with a shout of “Who’s this?” all attention was directed to you.

“Family, I have an announcement.” Colin began, grabbing your hand in his. “This is my wife,” he declared introducing you by name.

“Your what?” One of the brothers, Anthony you presumed, muttered; the first to recovered from the shock.

“We met in Madrid while I was travelling”

“Madrid as in Spain? Does she even speak English. She probably just tricked you to marry into English money,” Anthony proclaimed, earning an elbow from his wife in the process.

Colin went to reply, but you gave him a gentle shake of your head.

“Viscount Bridgerton, what a pleasure to make your acquaintance. You are just like Colin describe,” you smirked, your polite words not matching with your tone of voice. “As you can see I do speak English, in fact I am from this country. Just outside of Bath to be exact. I too was doing some travelling when I met your brother in Madrid. My father, a Duke, was there on business and he asked me to accompany him. Colin and I met studying Spanish in a local language school, I wanted to understand the language so I could help my father negotiate his deals.”

“My apologies for my son, I believe he sometimes forgets he is not the only member of the family with some sense,” Violet said, a gentle smile gracing her face. “But may I asked what brought on marriage,”

“I knew Colin was feeling homesick, wanting to be nearer to his dear family yet my fathers business in Spain was not due to end for many months. We couldn’t bear the thought of being apart, and I didn’t want to be the reason Colin stayed away from his family.”

“She made the sacrifice to leave her family so I could be with mine,” Colin confirmed, pulling you in to his embrace. “I knew we were going to have to marry so we could travel together without scandal, and in all honesty I could not wait to call her my wife,”

“Oh sweethearts, congratulations” Violet muttered pulling you both into a hug. “But don’t think you’ll get out of having a celebration, there will be a ball thrown in your honour!”

One by one each family member came to greet you and give their congratulations.

Benedict gave you a giant hug followed by angrily whispering to his brother ‘How dare you leave me to face the ton’s mamas on my own, we had a pact’.

Eloise gave you a half smile, ‘I can’t say I see why you chose to marry my brother, clearly the imbecile is lacking in the upstairs department. However it would be nice to have another intelligent woman in the house, How would you feel about teaching me Spanish?’ You readily agreed.

Hycainth and Gregory both wanted to know if Colin and yourself had brought them anything from abroad, in which you winked conspiratorially as an answer.

Daphne and Kate both gave you warm hugs, and promised to get to know you more over tea once you settled.

Anthony was the final one to approach. He gave you an apologetic smile before muttering ‘I would be grateful if you could come help me with some documents in my study sometime. We have business in Spain and I admit that I know nothing of the language. Your insight would be a major asset to the family.

————-

Hope you all enjoyed! Honestly I just see this on brand for Colin. As if he didn’t fall in love with every female he crossed paths with. Basically I just picture him as young Bill in Mamma Mia

P.S. no surprise who greeted Colin with a forehead kiss xx

[thewritetofreespeech]

What the Future Holds

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond & the Greens have returned victorious, but at what cost? [before all this: X XX XXXX]

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

"Aemond, tell me true. Did you do this to Aegon on purpose?"

Aemond stared at you for a long moment. Seeming to debate lying, but you knew he would never truly lie to you. "...not entirely on purpose..."

"Oh Gods Aemond...." You felt the air sift out of your lungs. Thinking back to Aegon's burnt, mangled body in the bed. The maesters not confident in his recovery to the point that they had all but stepped aside to let the septons have him. You needed to sit down.

Aemond rushed to your side, kneeling in front of your seat, his hands on your knees. "You have to believe me. This wasn't my intention at the start."

"Aemond..." He was getting perilously close to his first lie ever towards you.

"I was being careful, like you told me." You scoff ruefully at his explanation. It sounded a lot like blaming. "But Rhaenys and Aegon were..." He paused then. Seeming to think back on that moment and he did not look happy on it. "I did what I had to. Aegon got caught in the crossfire."

"Literally?" You don't mean to be glib but Nine Hells this was a lot to process.

Aemond's expression looked worried. Fretful. He took your hands in his and held them tight. As if scared you would run away if he didn't hold them. "With Meleys and Rhaenys gone, the Blacks have lost one of their dragons and decidedly best council. Rhaenyra is not educated in war. Daemon is as brash and impulsive as my brother. They will never recover from this. Aegon was...a necessary sacrifice for the greater good."

"Aemond, this isn't like you push him off a bridge or cut his arm off in a duel. You set him on fire!"

"If he can't stand a little dragon fire, then he's no true Targaryen." He reasoned. Sitting back on his heels but still focused on you. "Don't you see? With Aegon out of the way we can end this war and be done with it. No more loss. No more bloodshed."

"No more King?"

You knew Aemond was being honest with you, but you also weren't stupid enough in love to not realize his intentions weren't all pure. "You said it yourself. We must think of the line. Of our future." He grasped your hand again, only this time one for one. Your binding hands. "Mine and yours."

You take a deep breath and look around. Trying to make sense of this, but Aemond rose up on his knees to take your face in his other hand and focus on him. "Westeros deserves a king who will lead it to glory. Who will appreciate it. Not a man, a child, who has squandered everything in his life. Who didn't even want it. And Westeros deserves a Queen who will guide them. Not a meek eyed doe like my sister. Not a zealot like my mother. You. Together we can make this kingdom better. Because we will be better. The Gods may not have chosen us first, but we are the right choice." Every word from Aemond rouses your heart. You knew of his passion, but who knew he was such a wonderful orator. "Tell me you feel the same. Tell me you believe in this."

You look upon Aemond and think on his words. "I'm not going to help you kill Aegon."

He sat back down on his heels and frowned at you. "I wouldn't ask you to."

"But I won't stand in your way." You finish.

If he dies, you will accept it. If he lives, Aemond would have to accept that too. This was the coin toss the Gods had offered all of you.

The prince thought on your answer, then nodded. It was the best you could offer and the best he could hope for. "Alright." He rose back up again, tentatively this time, and wrapped his arms around you. "You believe me, right? You do not hate me, do you?"

"Never." You might not agree with what Aemond was doing, but you could never hate him. It was done now anyway. "Promise me you will remain careful though."

"I will try." He had promised you that before, and here you were.

You held Aemond close, and he clung to you. You want to believe that this was all a mistake. An accident of zealousness born from wanting this war over and peace to come to the land. A necessary sacrifice, as Aemond had said. There was no denying he was right. The Blacks would never recover from a blow so hard, but what of the Greens?

There is a nagging feeling in your chest, however, that for the first time Aemond was lying to you. Or perhaps he was also lying to himself.

There was still much uncertainty on what the future holds for the two of you, but all you knew was that you held your future right here. With Aemond in your arms. Even if you didn't agree with his motives.

[luimagines]

Steel Trap Mind (1600 Follower Raffle)

Our first place winner was @goopyartiste!

They asked for anything Warrior related so I was given total free reign. :D

Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“Is he awake?”

“Is he alive?”

“Don’t speak so loudly. Everything’s going to be ok.”

“I need to see him!”

“He took a really bad hit-”

“Lost a lot of blood-”

“-amazing he even survived.”

He groans loudly and turns his head. It’s killing him- not that he wants to make a bad pun over the words he’s been overhearing. There’s voices all around him, he gathers that much. It’s bright on the other side so he keeps his eyelids closed but he can’t help the groan that escapes him as he enters into the waking world once again.

“He’s awake!”

“Oh thank the three!”

“Warrior, you’re ok!”

He huffs and figures that he should at least try to figure out where he is. At least they sound concerned over him. But who’s this Warrior they mentioned? Maybe he’s in the other bed next to him. He’s sure that there’s a lot of men in the infirmary right now. It couldn’t have only been him. He can’t seem to remember how he got here. Was the attack that bad?

What was his name? Link.

Does he have a family? No.

Is anyone waiting for him at home? No.

Where is he now? Well that's a question he has to figure out now, ain't it?

He groans again and forces his eyes open. The lights have dimmed. How considerate. 

There’s a bunch of people around his bed, teary eyed and all wearing expressions of varying degrees of relief. He frowns. Who are they?

“I’m so happy you’re alright.” You say. You reach down and take his hand, holding it gently. Your other hand comes up to caress his cheek, almost lovingly. 

Link can’t think much of anything right now. Only that his head hurts and he doesn’t think he’s home right now. He looks around the room and frowns a little bit. This isn’t the medical ward for the wounded soldiers. “Where am I?”

“We’re in a random town.” A boy with more scars on his face than Link has seen someone have. His hair is long and he has more scars on his arm that Link can see. “You were hit in the head so we brought you here to the local inn to recover.”

Link lets the information sink in. Strangers, then. Very kind strangers. He sighs and leans back on the bed. He was attempting to sit up but he must have been in worse shape than he thought if he could hardly lift his head off of the pillow. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well next time try not to die, alright?” Another boy sasses him. He has pink hair somehow but Link gets the idea that he’s familiar with him. Stranger still- Link has never seen this boy before in his life. “We’ve got enough heroes between us all that there’s no need to make unnecessary sacrifices.”

“You scared me.” You say, gripping his hand tighter. You’re smiling softly even as you start to tear up again. You bring his hand up and kiss the back of it. “Don’t ever do that again. Promise me.”

You know him. You know him. You have to, or else you wouldn’t be doing that.

Link gets the impression that he’s important to you. But- He grimaces slightly, already imagining what this is going to sound like. “...Who are you?”

Everyone in the room goes still.

You seem to freeze entirely and grip his hand impossibly tighter. Frantic panic increases in your eyes as you search his face for something- anything. “You’re kidding, right? Link, this isn’t funny.”

“You know my name.” He whispers softly. The look that crosses over your face is absolutely heartbreaking. 

Tears start streaming down your face before you can even speak. “It’s me! You love me! I love you!”

“I don’t know you.” He settles for. Link doesn’t think he can be gentle with another person like this. Cia was bad enough. Granted, she never said that she loved him. Let alone claimed that he loved her but there have been countless others that have tried to get him to see to reason with similar arguments. He really needs to talk to Zelda about this.

“Hey now.” An older man speaks. “Settle down.”

Link looks at him and changes that assumption. He’s older than him, sure, but enough to actually phrase it that way. He has similar markings on his face though. Link things that if he tries hard enough he can remember why they ring a bell in his head. 

The man puts a hand on your shoulder and very gently pulls you away before you can collect yourself and potentially strike him. “It was a bad hit. Remember that.”

Yeah, ok- the older gentleman isn’t not talking to him.

“Warrior, what’s the last thing you remember?’ Another young man- wait, how many people are here again?- steps closer and puts the back of his hand on his forehead as if he was checking for a fever.

Admittedly, Link might be a little warm. His head still hurts. “Who’s Warrior?”

The room feels as if he had just lit a short fuse on a bomb.

You choke on a sob and Link turns his attention back to you. It’s a heart wrenching sound. As if someone had just stabbed you, or worse, killed someone in front of you. You are quickly escorted out of the room by three of the young men around him. The boy with the scars, another with a fur pelt, and the older gentleman are quick to take you out of the room.

The remaining people (five, he’s counted this time) all stare at him with varying levels of shock and despair.

“...Do you remember us?” A small voice comes from his left. There’s a boy. He’s young. He’s wearing a blue shirt with a lobster on it- hold on.

“You.” Link says and he feels a smile grow on his face. It’s weak and it doesn’t erase the pain he’s feeling, but the familiar face is nice. “I remember you, pirate. You’ve gotten bigger since the last time I saw you.”

“Not really.” He smiles bashfully, stepping closer to the side of the bed. “Do you remember anyone else?”

Link feels the weight behind that question. Looking around the remaining faces, he can’t say that he knows who they are. “Who are they, kiddo?”

The young boy gulps and bites his lip. “It’s a long story.”

One of them sighs and rubs his hand over his face. He’s a rather built young man with a long white cape over his back. Link thinks that maybe he can find someone to fix his scarf to look that cool. “This… is unideal.”

“You don’t say.” Someone snaps. It’s the smallest one there, but the voice doesn’t match the height. He’s probably older than Link originally thought. Link likes his tunic though. Very colorful.

A heart wrenching sob makes its way through the doorway as the older gentleman walks in again. It’s you. 

Link knows he’s caused that. He hates to admit to himself but what else was he supposed to do?

The older gentleman (Link gets ice in his veins when he remembers what the markings are) steps into the room and sighs. He rubs his hand down his face as looks over to where Link is on the bed. “I’m sure… you have questions, Captain.”

A title. Yes. Link has a title. And Link definitely has questions. “Who was that?”

Vaguely, Link knows that shouldn’t have been the prominent question on his mind, but for some reason he can’t pinpoint, he hates that he made you cry.

No one answers his question at first so he tries a different tactic. Clearly, he’s missing some information. “Are they important?”

To the mission? To this group? To him? Link doesn’t register that as a too vague a question, only that he wishes for it to be answered.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Well shoot, Link sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The final young man to speak tilts his head, raising his hands as they glow. Fascinating. Link stares at it. He’s hardly met another Hylian that could use magic so casually. “You wouldn’t have had it any other way. Pushed them out of the way and took the hit and all that.”

“Oh.” Important to him, it is then. Faintly, he thinks he could still hear you cry. “I hurt them.”

“You did.” Pink haired boy grumbles. “But there’s not much we can do about it. It’s a miracle you even woke up again as it is.”

A miracle. Link takes a deep breath. He seems to be running on pure fumes powered by those alone. “I hurt them.”

Somehow, he feels the need to repeat himself. Link doesn’t like the inky feeling that curls around his heart at the thought of that. If he pushed you out of the way of an attack, surely that means he cared about you to not think something through.

It’s stranger still- that it came to that at all.

Link has always prided himself on thinking fast on his feet and having contingency plans for his contingency plans. He’s not one to miscalculate. Many battles have made sure of that. Close encounters on top of even closer encounters have made sure that his senses were sharp and steely as the blade he wielded. 

To be hurt the way he was meant that he had miscalculated dearly. Or rather, the attack would have surely killed you and he wasn’t thinking at all when he acted. If he wasn’t thinking when he acted at the thought of you in danger or being attacked, then you meant more to him than anyone here was telling him.

Aside from you.

You did say that he loved you. And that you loved him. 

His throat suddenly feels dry.

”Here.” A cup is placed by the side of his face in an instant. Link takes it and manages to take one gulp of water before he remembers to take sips. 

“I wouldn’t have wanted them to be hurt.” He says after giving the glass back. He barely finished half of it before he started feeling nauseous. How long was he unconscious? How badly was he injured, truly? “I wouldn’t have wanted them to-”

Link starts to cough.

“We know.” The pirate gently pats his shoulder, rubbing small circles. Another thing he remembers. Link used to do the same to him when the pirate wasn’t feeling too well after a battle. Something about the food and movement not agreeing with him. It’s strange to be on the other side of the act. “They know it too. They won’t be angry at you for it.”

“No?” He looks at the boy, because he knows this boy. He can trust him. Link doesn’t know if he can trust the rest of the faces in this room.

The boy shakes his head. “You would never hurt them on purpose. You’re not that kind of person. They know that.”

Link strains his ear to hear you on the other side of the door. It’s gone quiet, but he’s almost positive that you’re still upset over this development. He wonders what he would have done to get this sort of reaction from everyone here. “Who are these people, kiddo?”

“We’re all Link.” He answers easily.

Link catches onto the way the others flinch slightly. 

He still can’t say that he knows them.

“We have to get his memory back.” The young man with the white cape says after a moment of silence. 

“It’s not that easy.” Magic Man shakes his head. “This wasn’t caused by a spell. At best, we should be asking The Champion how he deals with his memory loss. Amnesia caused by injury is a different challenge entirely.”

Link sighs and looks back to the door with his tongue between his teeth. 

Amnesia? He almost wants to laugh. Do they not know who he is?

Link doesn’t forget easily.

[graceylacey]

is laios touden happy?

I keep coming back to the question that a lot of Dungeon Meshi (manga) fans seem to be asking: is Laios happy at the end?

My two cents on this is: well, yeah. He actually is.

He’s sacrificed a lot, it seems, far more than all of the other characters. He’s the driving force behind the reason they survived to save Falin - through eating the monsters. Only in the end, he’s not able to explore dungeons, be near monsters (RIP his special interest) or even eat without feeling 30% empty. It’s a real tough bargain.

But that’s the whole point. And that loss makes the story so much more impactful to me.

When talking with the Winged Lion at the end, Laios’ true desires appear. But we can see through Mithrun, Thistle and Marcille’s time as Dungeon Lords that The Winged Lion seems to expose really selfish wishes that, whilst having good intent, don’t end up benefiting others the way the Dungeon Lord wants.

Obvious as it may seem, Laios’ true main wish IS to save Falin over the course of his storyline. It’s what drives him despite having other, arguably impossible, desires that he longs for.

Even though Laios wishes to become a monster, this desire has never overtaken his motivation in any other part of the narrative.

Yes, he loses a lot. But he’s gained Falin.

It seems obvious, but that’s the key to why I think this is a good ending for him. It’s about sacrifice. Itsusumi is a great microcosm for this - you have to do things you don’t want to do, eat things you don’t want to eat. You also have to give up things you don’t want to in order to gain more.

The similarity between Dungeon Meshi and Fullmetal Alchemist (manga) is wonderful to me. Both stories explore the giving and taking of life and the goals of our lives. 

At FMA’s conclusion, Ed sacrifices his ability to do alchemy; the reason the whole story started. It cost him and Al so much, but also helped them recover what they’d lost and literally save the world (are we starting to see the similarity?). Whenever I reread FMA, it’s sometimes hard watching Ed give up all his talent and everything he worked towards. What does he have without it? But for him, in that moment, it’s not such a difficult price to pay to get his brother back.

Maybe Laios is not aware of how much he would lose when he defeats the Winged Lion. But we do know he wants his friends and Falin to be saved, even if he dies. But that’s the thing! Both he and Falin are prepared to die to save their loved ones, but what about being prepared to LIVE to save their loved ones?

In our lives, we won’t often be sacrificing our lives for people, but we might be faced with a choice to give up things we love for people we love. Losing his life would be the easy way out (a great example of this is through Mithrun. It takes conscious effort to live. It seems so much simpler to die). Losing your dreams is hard, but that’s what it ended up costing for the safety of not just Laios’ friends but the world. He made that choice, now he must live with it. Even if he’s not fully happy at the end of the narrative, he still can be. You can be happy without having everything you desperately desire. That’s Dungeon Meshi.

Dungeon Meshi’s theme of neurodivergence fit into this really well. Personally, I think Laios is the perfect person to become King, possibly because he doesn’t think he should be. We know it’s not necessarily what he wants to do most. Heck, we know he doesn’t even like people that much and they don’t even seem to like him. But that’s what will make him the perfect candidate. Unlike others, he doesn’t have some high and mighty vision of becoming revolutionary at the end, nor does he have misconceptions about his abilities. He is genuinely righteous and humble, whilst having his flaws.

Laios knows what it’s like to feel different, outcasted by the world. But despite being awkward, strange, having weird interests and an inability to read social cues; people that once hated him ultimately end up having his back. There are bound to be others like him in his world (and ours), who don’t feel like they belong within humanity. People that would want a benevolent leader who genuinely cares and is enthused about things that don’t fit the norm because he doesn’t either.

It’s not his dream job but I believe he will eventually settle into it. We see this in the extra chapter where he willingly gives up his sword. That hit me hard. It felt a bit like a betrayal, like he was giving up who he was and everything he had worked for. But maybe it just shows that it’s okay that he couldn’t achieve all his desires. At least now Falin can achieve hers, and wasn’t that his fear for so long? That she would be lost and alone without him?

But now, because of Laios, Falin has the ability to choose her own path. She can choose make to leave as he once left her without the fear and guilt that Laois felt with his own departure. It shows both of them that it’s okay for them to take separate paths. They can grow and change and love each other from wherever they are. That protection, that survival and that connection between people is at the heart of Dungeon Meshi to me.

Both Laios and Falin choose to live. When Laios eats the Winged Lion’s appetite and Falin returns it’s down to their own decision. The choice to eat; the choice to experience life the way it was intended, with all its thorns. When they eat the monstrous parts of themselves they choose to be human, they choose the consequences of life, they choose to change and to go forwards. They are two sides of the same coin.

It seems only just that after all Laios has been through and after all we’ve seen him do, he should be allowed a perfect happy ending. But that’s just not Dungeon Meshi, is it?

There will always be sacrifices. Dungeon Meshi is not just about accepting life and death, but also accepting the possibility that you may not achieve everything you want, that things will not always go to plan but that you can always achieve other things despite this. 

Laios has made his choice to become King. Just like the choice to eat, it’s another part of life and of moving forward. Think of all the good he could do. I think he can be happy. That’s life.

[thecagedsong]

So one take on TOTK’s ending I’ve seen quite a bit of is the idea that it deprived all dramatic weight from Zelda’s sacrifice and that she should have suffered the consequences of her choice (I.e. stay a dragon forever or come back as a dragon human hybrid). This strikes me as a shallow reading of the text and another example of how some people think punishment (or in this case “dying for a cause”) is the only viable ending for someone who made the choice Zelda made. It really rubs me the wrong way given all the development and tragedy she faced in both games. What are your thoughts?

There is something beautiful and tragic and meaningful about the stories etched upon our skin by powers beyond our control. I don't think the people that wish for Amputee Link or Dragon Zelda think that 'dying for a cause' is the only reward for sacrifice. It comes from the truth that most of us don't get to recover from the consequences of our actions the way characters in a story can. Which I absolutely get (one of my earliest fics was written to call out anime fanservice). To escape with no scars or signs that anything awful happened can feel unrealistic or like cheating in a world where we must bear the consequences of our actions. But is that really what happened?

First off is the Doyalist framework the story has to exist within. This is a video game for a major franchise that, while they are excellent at re-writing and ignoring their own canon, still needs to be available for future stories to be told through it. After all the emphasis botw placed on the 'goddess bloodline', if they were to kill Zelda, or even render her sterile, that puts a huge shadow over any future games they could make. You don't kill Harry in the Order of the Phoenix. The stories of Hyrule are far from over, even if this would be a satisfying end point for the timeline. Heck, there's no guarantee Link's not going to wake up in his underwear in a damp cave a third time, tbh. That's the reality of why Zelda had to return to her old body.

But does that mean that totk is a bad story? Does it render Zelda's sacrifices meaningless? Do these sacrifices only have meaning if she came back visibly changed?

I don't think so. Because the sacrifice was never about her body, it was always about her sense of self. "To become an immortal dragon is to lose ones' self" was the sacrifice that was demanded and that Zelda offered.

Guess what? She did have to leave Link to face Ganondorf without her. Zelda did lose all sense of herself for uncountable years. Zelda's memories, her sense of self, was stripped away from her and scattered across all of Hyrule.

It was only because Link loved her enough to collect the pieces of who Zelda was, only because he was able to understand them through the gift of Rauru's arm, and only because both Sonia and Rauru consigned themselves to living as spirits for as long as Zelda was a dragon, that Zelda's sense of self was returned.

It may feel like cheating, or maybe unearned, that Zelda got her body and sense of self back with no visible changes. But how many times have other people stepped in to help shoulder the consequences of your actions? How many times did your parents step in when you made a mistake, to give you another chance?

You ever leave the fridge open as a kid, and accidentally spoil all your food? In a family where money is tight, Mom and Dad might have to sacrifice eating full meals for a while so that their children can eat. That sacrifice is a form of love. If the neighbor hears about it (thin walls) and brings over some casseroles they took from their food stores, that took a few hours to make, does that diminish the parent's sacrifice for their kids? The consequences of that sacrifice, going hungry, have gone away because someone else stepped in.

The mistake was Rauru and Sonia's, letting Ganondorf in and not being strong enough to stop him. The sacrifice was Zelda's, her mind/memories/self. The intercessors are Rauru, Sonia, and Link, unwilling to let Zelda bear the full weight of her sacrifice.

Yes, we live in a world where we often do not get to walk away from the consequences of our sacrifices/choices unscathed. But we also live in a world where, every once and a while, we do get to walk away with only internal changes. Almost always because other people were willing to sacrifice too. Your parents? your siblings? Your friends? Your god?

Zelda's hylian body is a reflection of the sense of self she regained. Of her agency as a character instead of as a mindless dragon/a living sacred site. Zelda's character arc ends with her accepting the sacrifice demanded of her by reclaiming her responsibility towards the people of her Hyrule, taking up the mantle of power and leadership once again. The fact that other people step in to blunt the weight of that sacrifice does not degrade how Zelda changed to get there or what she went through.

It's actually the conclusion of Rauru, Sonia's, and Link's arcs that they also sacrificed to support Zelda. Her arc pulls all the others to their conclusions. Zelda is the narrative gravity of totk. I can't call that bad writing.

[nebulaafterdark]

More Than Anyone Pt. 6

Summary: Rhaenyra is crowned, Y/N is named heir before the masses…but not without sacrifice.

18+ ONLY, Targcest, light smut

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Daemon Targaryen is not a man who takes anything lying down. This recent assault against his wife and child is no exception. There is no need to sit around with their thumbs up their asses, chasing dead ends. It is clear to him that there are few people in the kingdom with the will and know how to poison Rhaenyra so cruelly.

Because he cannot say which member of house Hightower has betrayed them, he has made the decision to eliminate them all in one fell swoop. Caraxes is more than happy to assist. The dragon rears back without warning, screeching their frustration up to the ceilings of the dragon pit.

“Little bird,” Daemon clicks his tongue in annoyance. Watching as Aegon feebly attempts to put Y/N behind him. “You shouldn’t have come, the sight will upset you.”

“And finding out from the townsfolk that you’ve executed my husband and his family would not upset me?” Y/N retorts. Allowing Aegon to put his arms around her waist, holding fast to his wrists. Let me speak.

“Last we spoke you were less than thrilled with said husband. Thought you might thank me.”

“No matter how hard the storm lashes between us, never would I wish to be without him. Aegon would not harm my mother, for he knows that it would harm me.” Y/N tells him.

“Are you not disheartened by this?” Her stepfather scoffs. “For all your mother has suffered, you feel nothing?”

“That is untrue. I wish this assailant swiftly punished for their crimes, to the fullest extent of the law.”

“Then step aside.”

“Daemon, please. You’ve a daughter,” Y/N watches his face soften, “Visenya. Healthy. My mother, our queen, is recovering in her chambers. There is no need to rush an unjust execution. Let us be thorough so that we might eliminate the real threat to our family.”

Daemon’s jaw ticks, he has waited long for this. After all the greens hath done. To his brother, to Rhaenyra…to their children.

“I know they are not perfect,” Y/N huffs a laugh, “infuriating at best.”

The corner of the rogue prince’s mouth twitches upward.

“But we are one house and we do not slay our kin.”

Caraxes grunts, puffing harshly through their nostrils.

“If you are to be Queen, it will be your duty to crush rebellion. You speak like my brother, who never had the stomach for it.” Daemon shifts his weight between feet, a hand curled over the hilt of his sword.

“Give me a chance.” Y/N breathes, “take my hand. Let us uncover the truth and punish the guilty. I will prove that I can crush rebellion at its root. I will avenge my mother, I will do you proud.”

Daemon takes a step toward her, against his better judgment. Extending a hand to her, “one chance, Y/N.”

“One chance.”

————————————————————————

It’s not until Y/N has safely returned Aegon to her chambers that she feels crushed beneath the weight of what has transpired. She can sit and cry about it, she can run off to tell her mother or…she can take action. Show Daemon that she is not weak, that she deserves this and will fight for what is hers.

“Dōna riña.” Sweet girl. Aegon breathes.

“I want them dead. Whoever has committed this atrocity against my mother, I want their head on a spike before the fucking moon turns.”

Aegon blinks at his wife. Her dark hair has sprung free from its braids, hanging about her flushed cheeks. “If it is the second coming of Maegor you long for, I will be that. Make no mistake, my dearest love, I live for you and I die for you. You must heed my warning, Daemon’s wrath is tame compared to mine.”

It confounds her for a moment, the fire burning in his eyes. How this was the same man who held her close and told her he loved her, the man who would fuck her until she cried when it suited him. Aegon is light and he is dark; so is she.

She wants him, however he is, was and will be. Y/N wants Aegon. His love, his fury, his passion and his pain. Not Maegor or Daemon, nor any man between. I want you.

A knock at the door turns both their attention away from the discussion.

In strides Jace, and two members of the Queen’s guard. “Y/N, our mother has begun preparations for her coronation. We must report to the dragon pit, townspeople have already begun to gather there.”

“Very well,” Y/N sniffs.

“Mother has a dress prepared for you. The very same so wore when our late grandsire named her as heir before the masses. Today she will name you, all must swear their loyalty; to her, to you…to house Targaryen.”

“And those who refuse?”

“You know what will happen, sister.” Jacaerys squares his shoulders.

————————————————————————

Only on bended knees of the seven does Y/N find comfort. Rhaenyra is crowned, naming her firstborn daughter her successor.

And after, when the Queen returns to her chambers and the newborn babe; Y/N is left with her eldest brothers.

“We’ve a lead.” Lucerys informs her, quietly.

“Come.” Jace insists, taking Y/N’s hand. Leading them through the corridors, their pace leisurely, not wishing to attract attention.

Their stopping point is just off the royal quarters. A room in which the only living Strong takes up residence. Y/N looks to her brother. Surely not here, surely not him.

Luce remains just beyond the door, standing watch. Larys is sat in his chair, cane in hand. As if he’s been expecting them.

“Prince Jacaerys, Princess Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We know it was you who poisoned our mother, we have it on good authority.” Jace tells him.

“Whom ever hath told you this is surely mistaken.” Larys offers a coy smirk.

“We want to know why.” Y/N interjects. “Perhaps with good reason we could leave this behind us.”

“What do you imagine would happen if the King’s daughter birthed herself three bastards and married the eldest to the next rightful king, in an attempt to pass her off as the heir?” The man asks. “Would this go unpunished? For a while mayhaps, but not forever.”

“But if the children are not bastards?” Jacaerys squares his shoulders. “If their legitimacy was upheld by their true born father and their grandsire, the king? By all accounts of the law those children are not bastards.”

“They are abominations. To be eradicated from the bloodline. Not to farther besmirch the name of their house.”

The door swings open wide, several guards flooding inside, taking Larys into custody as Lucerys watches from the entryway.

“What were you thinking?” Aegon demands, gripping Y/N’s wrist and pulling her aside.

“Aegon.” Y/N blinks at him. Had he followed her?

“Do you think me a fool? That I could not have handled this?”

“No, I…” she stammers. “I know you could have.”

“Why then did you come? Without protection?” The prince snaps, teeth bared in his anger, eyes glossy.

“I had my brothers.”

Aegon puts a hand to her belly, “this babe is mine. Yours and mine, do you understand? You do not get to run off and cause harm to him as you see fit.”

“Aegon, I wasn’t.” Y/N shakes her head. “I would never harm our child. I was careful, I-”

“You will never run off like that again.”

“I will not,” Y/N promises.

“If anything had happened to you…”

“I am sorry, Aegon. To worry you, to upset you so was not my intent.”

His fingers tremble as they move to her cheek, cupping it.

“I love you and our children. More than anyone.” Y/N assures him.

The words land as blows to his gut, he is furious with her. Yet his heart yearns to hold her close. Love is the death of duty, duty is the death of love. “You know how dearly I adore you. Allow me to see this manner finished.”

“I will come with you.”

“No, you will not.” Aegon hisses. “You will go to your rooms and remain there with our children until I am through.”

“My love-”

“Do not argue.” He warns.

Y/N swallows hard. Accepting a light brush of his lips in parting.

The Princess does not see her husband again until after their children are long abed. Aegon enters their rooms to find his bride in the bathing tub. It is large enough for two and the Prince wastes no time removing his clothes and stepping inside.

He sits opposite Y/N, their eyes meeting. Daring one another to make the first move.

Y/N draws in a breath. “I understand that you are angry with me-”

“You are…” he breaks off, searching for words. “I did not want that for you.”

“Aegon, I am a woman grown. You cannot shield me from the world.”

“Surely for longer than you’ve allowed me to. I am not angry…I am beside myself with worry for you. I am sick over it. When I sleep, I dream of you. When I wake, I long for you and,” he draws in a shuttering breath, “I need you.”

“You have me,” Y/N tells him. “All I have done is to protect you.”

“Do not bother.” No one else ever did.

“It is not a bother, Aegon. You are not a bother. Your thoughts and feelings are important to me. You are important to me. I will spend the rest of my life proving it so.”

“Come,” Aegon sighs, reaching a hand toward her in invitation. “Come, my sweet girl.”

“Forgive me.” Y/N breathes, allowing her husband to situate her in his lap. One leg on either side of his. He smells of alcohol, his lips laced with the salty tang of tears.

“I forgive you.” He feathers light kisses to the skin of her shoulder as they break apart. “And I love you.” His eyes land on hers as practiced fingers find her wetness, sliding easily into her heat.

“Say you love me too.” Aegon pleads, curling his fingers against the sweet spot within her.

“I love you, Aegon.” She breathes, “I love you always.”

Part 7

Series Taglist: @sophiexoxosblog @alicentswife @f4ll-for-you @tempt-ress @percyjacksonspeen @zoleea-exultant @midnightrqin @buckystevelove @httpjiikook @neenieweenie @springholland @zeennnnnnn @yelenabeleovapocket @nejiho3 @thatkindofgurl @aemondsb1tch @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @alitaar@kiahpapaya@existential-echo@zzz000eee@janelongxox@bunny24sstuff@bibli0thecary@rwdkarla@minttea07

[howlingday]

In regards to this post.

Studio C also made a volleyball sequel to their Scott Sterling video; link

You know what you must do Howling….

Oobleck: Welcome back to our coverage of another game between Teams RWBY and JNPR.

Port: If you're just joining us, it's been a roller coaster of emotions with both teams tied at two sets a piece, and the victor will be the Champions of Beacon Academy.

Oobleck: JNPR only needing to get the edge by two points with their team captain, Jaune Arc-

Port: Love that man!

Oobleck: Don't we all? -trying desperately to hold their position at the top, otherwise it's all over. Pyrrha Nikos ready to serve what may be the last game of her professional career.

Port: And here! We! Go!

Oobleck: Excellent serve!

Port: RWBY setting up the spike and-

Jaune: (Pounded in the forehead)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: Deflected!

Oobleck: Right into Jaune Arc's face!

Port: And JNPR ties it with Team RWBY! Unbelievable!

Oobleck: Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentlemen; Jaune Arc's face has entered the game!

Port: Just look at this instant replay! The angle at which Arc deflects the ball is nothing short of perfection!

Oobleck: Like watching a master painter masterfully painting his masterpiece... with his face!

Port: JNPR now on the prowl to take the lead with Nikos serving again! Team RWBY setting up a devastating return to the lead, and here it comes-

Jaune: (Nostrils pounded in, Slumps)

Oobleck/Port: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Port: Arc makes a tremendous save!

Oobleck: But it's not over yet as Team RWBY set up again for another spike, not wasting any opportunity to-

Jaune: (On his knees, Face pounded)

Oobleck: MOTHER OF PEARL!

Port: ARC SCORES!

Oobleck: Welcome to the heavyweight bout between Arc's face versus everything else!

Port: He looks like he could be pray on his knees!

Oobleck: The peaceful visage of TBI!

Port: We are ALL witnesses!

Oobleck: TESTIFY~!

Port: LET US ALL FEAST ON THE SWEET NECTAR! Of instant replay!

Oobleck: Just a perfect defense; the pinnacle of the word sacrifice.

Port: The ball flies right past the blocker, into Arc's awaiting face, back over the net, and then back into Arc's face like an obese homing Nevermore!

Jaune: (Stumbling about, Blind)

Nora: (Turns him to the net)

Oobleck: That man will leave here today, knowing he gave up everything he could! ...if he leaves at all .The crowd is on their feet, cheering for their hero, Jaune Arc!

Port: Much like the days of my youth when I held the entire Kingdom of Atlas on my back, so too does Jaune Arc carry the weight of his opponents upon his face!

Oobleck: JNPR has come back from the brink to put this one into the history books!

Port: It's one point for JNPR, can RWBY push past the Arc's defense to-

Jaune: (Knocked prone by Yang)

Port: Arc blocks it!

Oobleck: DID YOU SEE THAT?!

Port: Team RWBY deliver another spike to The Man!

Jaune: (Hit again by Blake)

Oobleck: The myth!

Jaune: (And again by Weiss)

Oobleck/Port: THE LEGEND!

Jaune: (...)

Nora: (Grabs Jaune's legs)

Pyrrha: (Grabs Jaune's arm)

Ren: (Grabs Jaune's other arm)

Port: His teammates haul him to his feet!

Oobleck/Port: NO!

Port: They raise him to his everywhere!

Jaune: (Jaune, I know that you're still... recovering, but please. The team needs you. I need you. So please, just this once... Just one more time, the world needs Jaune Arc on the court. Besides, this is a totally different game than what we were playing before. I doubt you'll have to worry about being hit in the face, especially since you've got a whole team around you to provide backup. Now come on, there world's waiting for you...)

Oobleck: HE'SDONEIT! ICAN'TBELIEVEIT! JAUNEARC! He's been taken through the air like a defensive angel!

Ozpin: (Fuming, Tosses over chair)

Port: An angel with the face of a devil!

Oobleck: Let's get an instant replay!

Oobleck: One is the loneliest number!

Port: Two tickets to paradise!

Oobleck: Three times a lady!

Oobleck/Port: FOOOOOOOOOR-

Ruby: (Slow-mo punching the ball into Jaune's face)

Oobleck/Port: -EEEEEVEEEEEEEER YOOOOOOOOOOOOOUNG!

Port: The crowd charges the court, and the people are weeping!

Oobleck: The tears of joy~!

Port: The Schnees are Schneeting!

Oobleck: Pound sign Jaune Arc~!

Port: The hospitals are preparing to receive the man himself!

Oobleck: The fifth relic himself!

Port: The great! Wall! of Jaune Arc!

Oobleck: I tell you, when the Brothers comes back, I want to be in a bunker made of Jaune Arc's face!

Port: Until next time...

Oobleck/Port: GOOD NIGHT, EVERYONE!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 40

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Numb. All your life, you strived for that state. To not feel a thing. It only took the sacrifice of your independence and body to achieve it.

Your mind is spent, you just can’t care about anything. Not the man suddenly missing, not the baby attached to your tit, and certainly not that dull tugging in your pelvis. 

“Dear, are you hungry?” Dottie asks as she appears in the doorway, “little thing must be takin’ it out of ya.”

You grumble. Your stomach clutches but your appetite is almost nonexistent. Everytime you see yourself, everytime you get a glance at your body, you can’t help but cringe. No wonder he’s gone. You were no prize before and now he’s ruined any semblance of attraction.

“You have to eat,” she chides, “‘specially if you’re gonna keep this one well fed.”

She comes to you as you finish feeding. You look down at the baby. You’re still waiting for the light switch to flip on. That magical moment everyone mythologises when you’ll feel that motherly yearning. When all common sense is wiped up by the primal instincts of maternity. You got nothing. 

The baby gets no reaction from you. Not disgust, not fear, not love, or joy or anything else they say you should feel.

You hand her over to Dottie. She burps the child and lays her in the rolling bassinet nearby. You lean against the pillows and stare at the room. You refused to stay in the one you shared with Lloyd, instead you took one of the guest beds.

If he ever shows up, you doubt he’ll want anything from you. You can’t offer him anything. The doctor says at least six weeks. If it’s up to you, never.

Dottie leaves you. She tries to get you to do more than grumble and sleep but there’s nothing else you can do. She is Marion’s mother. She hasn’t said a damn thing about him running off and you haven’t seen Harlan since the delivery room. You can’t tell if the are ashamed about their son or merely stuck in an awkward situation.

You close your eyes. This is what you knew would happen. This is what you yelled at Lloyd. And as always, you’re right and he doesn’t fucking listen. For as unpredictable as you believed he was before, you see through him more and more. You know who and what he is.

For a moment, you miss the life you had before. The one you thought was a prison but now you see was freedom. Working nights, coming home, sleeping on your own hours, eating on your own clock, coming and going wherever you liked, even if it wasn’t often. If you could go back, you would. 

You would pretend like Colin loved you and just forget about Ally. At least he kept the act up. Your eyes burn and you wiggle your nose.

You will not cry. You are numb. You don’t feel. You don’t want to feel. You don’t even want to be.

💎

“A walk will be nice, dear,” Dottie says as she lays the baby in the stroller.

You sit on the bench near the door. You feel weak and worn. It’s only been two weeks. You have a lifetime left of this. You won’t survive it.

Dottie can’t stay forever. If you were her age, you’d already be off enjoying your retirement. When you are her age, you’ll still be stuck here.

Unless… he decides to throw you out. The kid will be grown by then. You’ll be old and ragged and useless. With any luck, you won’t find out one way or the other.

“The doctor says a slow walk is good. Keeping active will help you recover.”

You nod. You don’t argue. In a way, you are humiliated by her constant doting. More like pestering. She knows you can’t do this alone, just like you do. She does a good job of hiding her anger. If you were her, you’d be livid at your son for pulling this shit.

“Right, well, let’s get going,” she chirps as she opens the door and wheels the stroller through.

You don’t move as she rolls it down to even ground and she kicks the brakes down on the wheels. She comes back in and offers to help you up. You slide to the edge of the bench and grunt as you stand on your own.

You feel her gaze on you and you refuse to meet it. There’s something unsaid. Staying active. You have a lot of weight to take off. Yeah, you know.

You follow her slowly across the entry way and come out into the sunlight. You lean on the railing as you descend after her down the few steps. You keep your head down, shoulders slump, and keep your hand from meeting your stomach out of habit.

She flips the brakes up and she slowly sets off. You do your best to keep up, watching the toes of your speaker. The sun beats down hotly. Summer still blazes hotly. The loose hoodie you wear fills with heat and has you sweating.

She goes through the gate and turns onto the sidewalk. You lean against a pole to catch your breath. She stops patiently, cooing at the baby as you push yourself away. You apologise and press on. It is easier to be outside. It doesn’t feel so stagnant.

Dottie comments on the houses you pass, the pretty flowers, and the trimmed hedges. She likes the neighbourhood. To you, it looks like a circle of hell. You turn back at the end of the street and head back to the house. You’re drained entirely.

“Any ideas for lunch?” Dottie asks.

“Not hungry,” you answer.

“Aw, well, you do have to eat, just like Luna,” she says gently.

“Yeah,” you utter.

You’re startled as your name comes from behind you. Before you can reach the gate, you pause and face the speaker. Andy jogs towards you and stops before the stroller as Dottie turns it with her.

“Uh, hey, I saw you passing by,” he smiles and gives a nervous look at the other woman, “I haven’t seen you around, I just wanted to say hi. I… I didn’t know the baby was here already.”

You stare at him. You see the doubt in his cheek, a small twitch. You can’t just let him see how defeated you are.

“Two weeks,” you inform him, doing your best to keep your voice light, “she’s doing well.”

That’s the thing you noticed. Now that the baby is born, people don’t ask how you are. Not until they ask about the baby.

“Wow,” he says, “um, I’m Andy,” he says to Dottie, “I live next door.”

“Oh, wonderful,” she steps around the stroller to shake his hand, “I’m Dottie, the grandmother.”

He looks between you and the older woman. You squint. He doesn’t think…

“Oh, she’s not mine, the daddy is,” Dottie chuckles, “still, she’s a good daughter. Couldn’t be luckier.”

“Mind if I…” he points to the carriage.

“Go on, she’s a cute thing,” Dottie allows, “name’s Luna. Like Moonlight.”

He nears and hunches to see into the stroller. He aws and wiggles his finger at the baby. You watch him. He smiles at the child so easily. Every time you look at her, you just want to cry.

“Great, er, so just wanted to put it out there, if you need anything I’d be happy to help out,” he offers as he retreats to stand across from you, “you know, I’ve done it all before. I probably have some toys and stuff still hanging around.”

“You got kids?” Dottie asks.

“I had one,” Andy’s veneer falls just a little, “he had an accident.”

“Oh, hon, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t imagine,” she preens, “you are so kind. I’m sure we could use some company in that big house.”

“Lloyd will be okay with that?”

“He’s away on business,” she dismisses quickly and your muscles tense as you try to conceal your chagrin.

“That’s too bad. How about I come over and make some dinner? Tonight? Tomorrow? Give you two some time to relax.”

“Ah, wow, you are gallant, ain’t ya?” Dottie says, “how about tonight? The weather’s supposed to be fine, we can eat outside.”

“Works for me,” Andy announces triumphantly, “I’ll be over at five, does that work?”

“Sure thing,” Dottie affirms, “now, we should get the little one down, she’s starting to fuss.”

“Of course,” Andy grins and your eyes meet his. You try but can’t muster a smile. “See ya then.”

You nod as Dottie returns the sentiment. You turn and continue towards the gate. 

“What a nice man,” she says, “beautiful eyes… oddly familiar, don’t ya think?”

“I guess,” you mutter as you drag your feet. 

You really wish she hadn’t accepted the invite. You just want to be alone, or as alone as you can be with a child attached to you.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Climb

Summary: You're a scientist, an engineer to be exact. Called to a meeting you had no real right to be at, Optimus Prime takes an exclusive interest in you, but you can't help but ask yourself at every turn, Why?

Rating: 18+ 🌹🩸🍆

Story Masterlist

Chapter 15

Ratchet was worried. Optimus was recovering well but slowly. His body was still trying to cope with a piece of his Spark being removed. It was normal for the most part, he should have taken longer to deal with the trauma, but his worry for Jane was distressing him and it was only slowing his recovery.

     ‘I will be fine.’ Optimus kept saying, brushing off Ratchet’s concerns. ‘How is Jane?’

     Ratchet folded his arms and sighed. ‘She is alive, but still unconscious. Your Spark is struggling to understand the new body it is in, it will take time for us to know whether it will be successful, or not.’

     It wasn’t the answer that Optimus wanted, but it was the right one to give him, to make him understand what he had done to the woman he loved.

     ‘Optimus, do not do anything to disturb this.’ Ratchet warned. ‘I know what you are thinking, but this is a path she and your Spark must walk alone. She must come back to us on her own.’

     Optimus bowed his head, it was clear to Ratchet that he had been considering something very stupid, but his feelings for this woman, as noble as they may have been, could cost her, her life.

---

Optimus had been summoned to a meeting with the humans again, a few days after Ratchet had warned him to leave Jane to recover alone, and his Spark had almost entirely healed. It would only be another few hours before he was able to call himself fully repaired.

     The meeting had been to discuss Jane’s efforts and the completion of her mission, though there had been an agreement to keep the details of her survival quiet. Only those who had been directly involved would know what really happened, the official report told a different story, one where Jane had a heart transplant.

     ‘Is there anything else we should know about what happened?’ Smith, the annoying spokesperson for the president asked, pacing the balcony in the main hanger.

     ‘Such as?’ Optimus challenged, knowing exactly what Smith was trying to get out of him.

     ‘Harding fell thirty thousand feet through the air, no parachute as far as the satellite footage can tell, she was unconscious, unable to survive the fall.’ Smith made every word clear and Optimus did not appreciate being treated like a child. ‘Care to explain how she is now laying in a hospital bed perfectly fine?’

     ‘I believe your people called it a heart transplant,’ Optimus leaned in, daring Smith to argue with him. ‘The process, as I understand it, is to take a healthy heart from one who has given permission for-‘

     ‘Don’t play games with me!’ Smith snapped. ‘You did something. You and your people did something using your technology to bring her back to life.’

     Optimus remained quiet, placing his hand on the balcony and leaning close to Smith, who began to back away, thinking better of his tone.

     ‘Dr Harding saved your planet,’ he spoke low and seriously. ‘She gave her life for yours, despite my lack of belief that it could ever hold the same value, and now she is recovering and gathering the rest needed to receive your thanks for her sacrifice. That is what happened.’

     Optimus hoped he was clear, he didn’t lie, but he couldn’t reveal the truth of what happened.

     Smith still wasn’t having it, he questioned everything about the mission, but Optimus held strong. He would never allow Jane to come to harm and if Smith found out about his Spark being transferred into her body, she would surely be taken away to suffer experimentation. Under his watch, that would never happen.

     ‘You know what I think?’ Smith paced again, he just wouldn’t quit. ‘I think you used your technology to save Harding, I think you brought her back from the dead. I think you possess the technology that could save a lot of people on this planet, that you refuse to share. Now, we’re not asking for weapons, or anything remotely dangerous, all we’re asking is for the chance to actually save lives. As far as I’m concerned, every life that is lost while you refuse to help, is on your conscience.’

     Optimus felt a growl sitting in his chest.

     ‘What do you say to that?’

     ‘I say: your convoluted reasoning is only another example of why we will not share our technology with you.’ Optimus stood firm. ‘Your capacity for creative engineering would certainly lead you to find a way to weaponize any technology shared. More life would be lost as a result of-‘

     Optimus stopped mid sentence. Even Smith was confused.

     The great Autobot leader was silent, he was still for a moment, before looking towards the exit of the hanger. Something was happening, but he could place his finger on it.

     ‘You can’t run away from this conversation.’ Smith said, realising he may have had a chance at gaining the upper hand.

     Optimus ignored him, something more important was happening. He ventured out of the hanger, looking around as if his eyes landing on something in the immediate area would somehow tell him what to do.

     Lennox, Smith and a few other officials followed him out of the hanger, hoping for some kind of explanation. Ratchet and Ironhide stepped across from their own hanger to find out what was going on.

     ‘What is it, Optimus?’ Ironhide asked the question on everyone’s mind.

     ‘I do not know.’ Optimus shook his head, turning around to examine the whole base.

     His gaze found the hill that he and Jane had gone to numerous times before she made the climb. He needed to go there.

     Optimus transformed into the blue and red flaming truck and raced towards the top of the hill. Ratchet held his hand out to stop Ironhide going after him.

     ‘He must do this alone.’ Ratchet explained, pulling Ironhide away from Smith in particular. ‘If this is what I think it is, she must accept it for herself.’

---

I could feel the hot sun beating down on my face, it was almost soothing in comparison to the cold wind that had previously been rushing past me on the fall from the ship. I opened my eyes and was almost immediately blinded by the brightness of the sun. I could feel hot sand under my fingertips, hardened stone just beneath it.

     Clouds were rushing past me, but there was no sound, it was just a soft pulsing, like I was inside something electrical. My body hurt, my joints still felt like glass, my muscles were still drained of all energy, but somehow, I was still forcing myself to stand.

     ‘We have been watching you for a long time.’ A deep and booming voice suddenly surrounded me.

     I turned to find the source of it and was confronted by giant, god-like, mechanical creatures, who looked a lot like Autobots, but they were different to the ones that had come to Earth. They were skeletal and basic, almost like primitive versions, made up only of essential components.

     I stood up fully, curious more than afraid. I supposed if they wanted to harm me, they would have done already.

     ‘Where am I?’ I asked, my voice was clear, echoing across the baron landscape, a far cry from how sore and dry my throat felt.

     ‘You are where you are supposed to be.’ Another of the giants spoke, this time it was a much more feminine voice. ‘You have been presented with a gift that few could ever be worthy of. The Spark of another is a great gift, but the Spark of a Prime comes with a price.’

     ‘I don’t understand.’ I shook my head. ‘What happened? I don’t remember anything… I died.’

     ‘Your organic heart was not strong enough to withstand the fall.’ The giant continued, she stepped forward and kneeled in front of me, but she was still a giant in my eyes. Towering over me, but again, more curious than anything. ‘Our last descendant, Optimus, saw in you the qualities of a great leader, a great warrior and one worthy of sharing his Spark. He gave you the chance to live again in union with him.’

     ‘Spark-sharing.’ I whispered, realising what must have happened. ‘Optimus gave up a piece of his Spark… for me?’

     ‘He did.’ The giant nodded, slowly. ‘While it is not conventional nor wise to have joined with an organic, this is his choice. If it is yours as well, then you must be prepared for the path laid before you.’ The giants behind her shifted, curious about me more than anything, probably wondering what was so special about me. ‘Your bravery and determination to make an impossible climb is what has brought you before us, but your faith that it was possible was what ignited Optimus’s love for you.’

     ‘He loves me.’ I whispered, as if I only realised in that moment what it really meant.

     ‘Summon him,’ the giant stood to join with the others. ‘And we will witness your acceptance or denial of this union.’

     I shook my head. ‘I don’t know how.’

     ‘Look inside yourself, find the Spark, he will hear you if you speak clearly enough to him.’

     It was all the guidance I would get, but I was still confused, I didn’t know how to communicate without words, but that seemed to be what was being asked of me.

     I closed my eyes and tried to think of Optimus as clearly as I could. I tried to build a picture in my head of where he might have been. Something began to appear in front of me. The hanger. Smith. It was like a mirage, nothing was especially clear, but enough that I could see Optimus towering over the president’s spokesman.

     ‘Optimus.’ I breathed.

     I could see him turning his head. Could he hear me?

     ‘Optimus.’ I spoke louder, holding onto the picture. ‘Find me.’

     I felt my chest ache and I lost the picture in my head, falling to my knees as my joints were giving out, but I could still hear the sound of Optimus moving, I could hear the rev of his engine.

     ‘His is coming.’ The deep, booming voice of the first giant spoke.

     The baron landscape began to change, instead of sand and concrete, I could feel grass beneath my hands, I looked down to see it growing quickly underneath me, and when I looked up, I could see the sunset over the base. It was the hilltop where Optimus and I shared our evenings before the climb. It was beautiful.

     ‘Jane?’ Optimus’s voice came from somewhere behind me, I turned to see him, shrunken to appear to be the same size as me, a human size. He was still tall and strong, but it was much easier to look up at him without straining my neck.

     ‘Optimus.’ I breathed, relieved. He knelt next to me and helped me to my feet slowly.

     ‘Are you alright?’ He asked, worried.

     ‘I’m fine.’ I panted. A smile forming on my face at the sight of him. I’d missed him so much.

     ‘Optimus Prime.’ The first giant boomed, catching Optimus’s attention.

     His eyes widened and he immediately got onto one knee, bowing his head respectfully.

     ‘You have chosen this human to join in union with, to devote your life to, and to share with in all things.’ The giant went on. It only occurred to me in that moment that this felt a lot like marriage, a declaration of union was exactly what getting married looked like. I was surprised at how ready I felt to say yes to whatever question was asked of me.

     ‘Yes,’ Optimus spoke, still keeping his head bowed. ‘I accept all consequences of my choice. I have not broken any oaths or promises, I have sought permission for such a union-‘

     ‘Not from us.’ Another giant spoke up. It was clear now that not all of them were curious, some did not agree with the choice that had been made.

     ‘I sought permission from the only one whose permission matters.’ Optimus lifted his head, adopting a new tone with some bite behind it. ‘I asked Jane if she could foresee a life lived beside me, she said yes.’

     ‘Optimus.’ The female giant spoke again, stepping forward. ‘We have been watching. Permission has not yet been given, but we have agreed to offer the chance for it to be so. You are our last descendant, you are the only hope for the survival of our race. Your leadership is paramount to the continuation of our people, none other would be brought forward for this consideration.’

     There was a moment of quiet before Optimus spoke again. ‘I understand.’

     Optimus stood, his head bowed again, he turned to me and sighed.

     ‘What’s happening?’ I asked, my chest still ached.

     ‘I gave you a piece of my Spark,’ Optimus started. ‘But you were not conscious to accept it, while I can argue for the moment shared before you ascended the ship, where you acknowledged our desires are aligned, this is not the permission I needed to act.’ I felt my chest aching again. ‘On my planet, and in line with our traditions, you should have been aware of the price you would pay, should you choose to accept my Spark.’

     ‘But I don’t understand.’ I frowned. ‘I do accept. I want to share my life with you.’

     Optimus let his head drop just a little, glancing at the ground.

     ‘You accept,’ the female giant spoke again. ‘But you do not understand. Permission cannot be given without this essential component.’

     I frowned again, but dread began to flood my limbs. ‘Optimus?’

     He looked down at me, he looked somehow different, like I was seeing him through new eyes. He was handsome, regal almost, I could see everything I loved about him, his strength and gentleness combined. He was beautiful.

     ‘Truthfully,’ he started. ‘We have no idea of what will happen. Our Sparks were never designed to be a part of organic life, they are too powerful to be housed by flesh.’ I swallowed, worried for what he had done to me. ‘My belief is that the piece of my Spark that I gave to you, can learn. I believe it can adapt to your body’s needs, sustain you and even allow you all the benefits it allows me.’

     ‘You mean, I could transform?’ I asked, feeling not only dread, but wonder and fear rolling through my body.

     ‘It is possible.’ Optimus nodded, but he didn’t seem particularly convinced. ‘However, it is also possible that I have condemned you to a short life of pain and suffering. I can already sense your discomfort.’ I tilted my head curiously. ‘You are in pain. I can feel it.’

     I lifted my hand to place over my chest, it was warm, and I could almost feel every pulse the Spark was emitting from inside me.

     ‘When we sat together on this hill, I told you about Spark-sharing, I told you about the union, how it can bind two beings together for a lifetime, but I never told you how difficult the journey can be.’ Optimus said, ashamedly. ‘For Autobots, the first few years can be agonising and disorientating at best, it will test you in ways you have never been tested before. There will be moments where you will regret this choice, even grow to hate what has happened to you, grow to hate me… I am ready to walk the path with you, to guide you and help you as best I can, but the choice must be yours.’

     I swallowed, trying to understand what it was I was being asked to accept, but truthfully, I would never know if I didn’t say yes, and that was a much more exciting prospect.

     ‘I made the climb.’ I said, more to myself than anyone.

     ‘You did.’ Optimus nodded. ‘And you saved your planet in the process.’

     ‘I could only have done that if I truly believed I could make it,’ I thought out loud. ‘If I asked the question “what am I capable of”?’ I swallowed thickly. ‘I didn’t know if my body could survive the climb, I don’t know if it can survive this, but I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that in my heart I know I love you.’ His widened and his features softened. ‘I believe that’s all the reason needed to know the risk is worth taking.’

     Optimus almost puffed his chest out in pride.

     ‘Jane Harding.’ The female giant spoke, capturing both of our attention. ‘You have shown courage, intelligence and a curiosity not often seen amongst your kind.’ She curled her hand and images of myself climbing the ship, working with Theo on the suit, talking to Ironhide about where the console was and what it looked like, began appearing like clouds around me. ‘We have watched you for a long time, seen your capacity for kindness and value for justice,’ the memory of standing up to Smith where the sharing of technology was concerned began forming in a new cloud before me. ‘These moments defined you, reinforced the leader you will be; do not forget how difficult your path has already been.’ I could feel the fear I had when Smith told me I wasn’t a suitable candidate to make the climb. ‘But the journey ahead will be far more challenging.’

     A new set of images began forming, ones I didn’t recognise, things that had not yet happened. I could see moments where I was screaming out in agony, clasping my chest, writhing around, falling and being thrown by unseen forces. One stood out in particular, me standing on a platform, Optimus behind me, barely able to stand. I was looking up at something unseen, but whatever it was, it looked like I wouldn’t stand a chance.

     The images floated around me, circling me and each one looked more agonising than the last.

     ‘This is what awaits you, should you accept the Spark of Optimus Prime.’ The giant took the images away, but I could still feel remnants of them in my body. ‘Do you accept what is before you, Jane Harding?’

     A sharp pain ran through my limbs, once again dragging my body to the floor, my joints were so much more delicate than they had ever been. For a moment, I wasn’t sure I would survive another second, but something was telling me that wasn’t an option. Dying was not my destiny. Not yet.

     Optimus stood to one side, I understood why he couldn’t help, this was a test, this was the moment I found out what I was truly capable of. I needed to stand up, no matter how difficult, no matter how much my body was telling me I couldn’t do this, I needed to stand up.

     Without any strength, with so little will, I pushed my fragile, glass-like body up. The second I was standing, it was like all strength returned, I could breathe easy again.

     ‘Do you accept?’ The giant asked again.

     ‘I do.’ I swallowed in more air, feeling my lungs fill with exactly what I needed.

     Optimus took a step closer, his face a mixture of joy and softness. It was love.

     ‘Then the dynasty recognises this union of our descendant Optimus Prime and the human Jane Harding.’

     The giants, one by one, began descending to one knee. The female giant was the first and it seemed more and more continued to appear and kneel before us beyond the horizon.

     ‘May your path be long and prosperous.’ She carefully lifted her hand and with one finger placed to my forehead, the world began to fall away, darkness returned for me.

---

Optimus watched as Jane fell back and through the Earth, returning to her hospital bed to rest. He looked up at the great Dynasty of the Primes, happy that his union was accepted by Jane, and by his ancestors.

     They began standing once again, but they no longer looked peaceful and calm.

     ‘Optimus.’ The Prime who had been speaking with Jane stepped back and allowed the first Prime to step forward. ‘Your actions were reckless. You put the survival of our people at risk. We know you understand the consequence of that, but your punishment will be this union you have chosen with the human female.’ Optimus worried that the whole truth had yet to be revealed. ‘You believe your Spark can learn to sustain her, many of us do not share this belief. Many of us think you have condemned her to unimaginable pain and suffering, no human could withstand the years ahead, she will die at your hands. And should that day come, we will not accept your life as forfeit, you will continue on, you will be the example to all other Autobots who believe organics are capable of sharing our Sparks. Do you understand?’

     Optimus again puffed out his chest. ‘I understand. I have seen the human race do things beyond our perception of their capabilities, I have witnessed their strength and determination, I have fought proudly alongside the finest warriors their planet has to offer and would gladly give my life for them. So allow me to pose this question: What if Jane survives, and you are wrong?’

     The Primes exchanged looks between themselves and Optimus knew it was risky to defy them. These were the oldest and wisest of his kind, it was never a good idea to antagonise them. They began to turn and walk away, with nothing more to say on the matter. Only the female Prime remained.

     ‘If you are right,’ she said, calmly. ‘Then she will become the first Human Prime. Be sure you are making the right choice, if she is able to withstand the initial binding, she will be faced with a choice, continue her personal journey which could lead to devastation, or become the leader all Primes are destined to be. You will need to guide her, help her and ensure she does not fail.’

     ‘She will not fail.’ Optimus spoke, defiantly.

     ‘Her memory of the future will be erased, she will not know the path ahead. It will be your job to make sure she faces every challenge with the courage she showed to make the impossible climb. Do not fail, for all our sakes. Be gone.’

     The last Prime placed her index finger on his forehead and he was sent back to the hilltop in the midst of reality. Jane was no where in sight, why would she be? She should still have been resting in the hospital bed. She said yes. She accepted their union, she said yes to spending her life with him.

     Optimus transformed back into the big truck he was known for and raced back to the base where Ratchet and Ironhide were waiting for him. Smith and Lennox were still arguing, but it was the status of Jane that was more important.

     ‘Prime.’ Ironhide said, stepping towards his old friend who transformed back. ‘What happened?’

     ‘Ratchet.’ Optimus called his friends to him. ‘She said yes.’ He couldn’t help his elation at saying those words, but it was laced with worry. ‘Please, I need to know if she will wake up soon.’

     ‘I will take care of her.’ Ratchet promised.

     ‘She summoned me through her Spark,’ Optimus explained. ‘It will have drained her energy to do so. I could already feel her pain at the effort.’

     Ratchet nodded and he and Ironhide moved away back to their hanger. They couldn’t risk being seen to head towards the hospital with Smith still loitering around.

     Optimus felt revitalised, like all of his repairs had been redone once again. He was ready to defend his and Jane’s actions with courage and logic.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[aceofwhump]

Hey Ace 👋

Do you have any good Rodney whump fics or Ronan whump fics to recommend

I am only like half way through season 2 of Atlantis but I think I spoiled most of the show for myself through the whumpy gifs and videos I see everywhere lol

(P.S may we see a pic of your cat? 👉👈)

Hiya!! Ooh I love Rodney and Ronan whump. Yeah let me see what I can find for ya.

Rodney Whump:

Desperate Measures By: angw Stuck in a mine shaft Rodney has to make a choice to survive.

Four Times Rodney McKay Got Shot Saving the Day By: LinziDay Four times Rodney McKay got shot saving the day and one time he didn't .

Guppy By: GateBiscuit Rescuing McKay from the lost, leaky Puddle Jumper was the easy part. Tag to Grace Under Pressure. Team fic

Reason #1 Why Rodney Likes Food By igiveup101 “Fine,” Rodney gave in, shoulders slumped. “But you’ll be sorry when I’m dying of hypoglycemic shock.” OR Sheppard and the team agree to sit and reflect for a few hours. It goes, predictably, horribly awry.

Soldiering On By: LilRicki In which Rodney gets severely whumped but is still awesome enough to save the team from certain doom.

Candle in the Dark By: Sholio An accident leaves Sheppard and McKay a little too dependent on each other.

Hypoglycaemia By: Alipeeps Hypoglycaemia or low blood glucose is a condition in which the level of glucose sugar in the blood, drops below a certain point... Special request fic written for McKayRocks! Featuring McKay and Shep whumpage in abundance.

Ronon Whump:

Silent Sacrifice by Daring Duo - John, Rodney, and Ronon try to survive after crash landing on an unexplored planet. Their injuries and lack of supplies begin to take their toll as they wait to be rescued.

Red Sands by kirsten999 - Stranded on a harsh, desolate world, John and Ronon learn that merely surviving is only half the fight.

Finding Home by LadyShelley - Free of the Wraith, Ronon must decide if he is going to stay in Atlantis or leave to seek vengeance alone. While still trying to make up his mind, he and Rodney are trapped in one of the city’s towers, and each starts to learn more about the other as they wait for someone to find them.

A Light In Dark Places by LordVaako - Where was Ronon? Carson’s head felt like a boulder had dropped on it. The low ringing in his ears, coupled with a throbbing headache, made him touch his temple. He removed his fingers and inhaled in surprise at the crimson smears. ** Ronon is sent to bring Carson back to Atlantis, but the good doctor wants to spend more time with a village’s healer. When the village is attacked, Ronon and Carson are badly injured. They must rely on each other to get back to the Stargate.

Red Sands by kristen999 - Stranded on a harsh, desolate world, John and Ronon learn that merely surviving is only half the fight.

Febuwhump Day 1: touchstarved By Yesimevil After living for seven years as nothing more than a hunted animal, settling back into a form of society was… difficult, to say the least. Ronon suddenly became overwhelmed with people and things and safety, and no idea what the hell he was supposed to do with any of it, and from his inability to hold a conversation to the alien feeling of a toothbrush in his hand, he supposed that he had, in a way, forgotten how to be human.

Whumptober 2022 day 31: a light at the end of the tunnel By Yesimevil Takes place after Broken Ties. Ronon struggles to recover from the events of the episode, but his friends are there for him.

And yes I'd love to share a picture of my kitty! Her name is Sable and this pic is from the last time I took her outside

[sirowsky-stories]

The Old Prince

Part 14 - The Sacrifice

Author's Note: I can't believe it's over! But I love it so much and I'm really happy with this ending. As always, I'm happy to continue the story if anyone has any specific requests for something to be further explored, but if not, this will be our last few moments with these two. Thank you to everyone who's read and interacted with this story!

Description: None for this chapter, and no warnings either, to avoid spoilers. But it's an ending, so expect feels!

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 2600 Author's Masterlist

   Lose yourself.    Don’t be afraid of what comes after, this moment is all that matters. Don’t try to control the light, it’ll go where it needs to go.    Find him. Find everything you ever felt about him, good or bad, and live with him again. In one second, you can relive it all, you can have him back.    Lose yourself in him.

   The light will go where it needs to go…

   “You are quite amazing, my dear.”

   Suddenly you’re back there, with him, in his room shortly before your first time making love to one another. He looks at you with those brown eyes, softened with compassion but also hardened by time, and so humbled by your feelings for him.    Your chest burns, but it isn’t with pain. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, staining your clothes, and he looks terribly concerned.

   “Are you alright?” he asks, tightening his embrace around you while he works to understand your reaction. “If you have any doubts about me, or us…”

   He trails off as your face breaks into a smile and you shake your head, trying not to laugh with the flood of joy which surges through you at the sight of him, so real before you again.

   “You do know… I am yours, don’t you?” he ponders, and somehow, you can tell he begins to understand.

   In his eyes you see a quiet but intense search for answers, although it’s like he knows he’ll find them in there even if you don’t say anything. He knows you’ve been to places and seen things beyond his comprehension, and so all he really discovers is, he’s fine with it.    Because he can tell that whatever’s happened to you, he was there with you. Because you love him more than he had ever dared believe possible.

   “You know better than I do,” he whispers, and tears begin to fill his eyes as well.

   He hasn’t lived your reality, this is just a memory, but even so, he knows how deeply you’re connected. And he sees how desperately you need him.    You let your head fall against his shoulder and sob in both grief and happiness.    He feels exactly the same. He smells exactly the same. Because this is how you remember him. And when his hand comes to rest against the back of your head, and he leans his cheek against your temple, all your feelings are blown away, replaced by the unparalleled harmony of knowing… you’re home.

--=¤=--

   Simon never reaches her, held back by the sheer mass of light produced as she surrenders to her spirit and Lux emerges in her place.    It has no form. It’s just a ball of light, so bright that no one can look at it, so strong that nothing can touch it.    The light reaches around the entire globe, for just a second, but it’s enough. All spirits are brought out of their darkened shells, and all creatures made of evil are turned to dust, save the creator himself.

   Then it’s gone. The light fades as suddenly as it appeared, no more than a flash to those who experience it, but at the same time an infinite moment.

   The owl knows what must be done. She still remembers the woman’s words, just as she knows in her heart that the Darkling will rebuild his army if he is not destroyed.    So, she calls to her sisters, calls for them to fight in the name of Freedom.    The beast has recovered from the light by the time they reach him, and he fights back with a fury to rival his losses.

--=¤=--

   On Faial, Andreia drops the stack of brochures she’s carrying to the front desk of the Volcano Interpretation Center, as she feels something leave her. She turns to the west, knowing what was lost was somewhere over there, just as a brightness which somehow comes into the room despite it being underground, forces her to close her eyes.    And when it’s passed, an emptiness follows.

   For years, she hasn’t felt sorrow or fear, blissfully unaware that the strange positivity, which was given to her by another, was only borrowed.    She slumps beside the desk and cries deeper than she ever has before. So lost in this overpowering grief, who’s origin she doesn’t even know, that she cannot tell how every other person in the building does the same.

   Nor does she know her sister, Daniela, is doing the same, thousands of miles away at the bottom of the world.    She doesn’t realize everything living now grieves the loss of this one person, connected to everything in her efforts to keep them alive. This one person who has affected the lives of literally everyone.

   But they will no longer remember her.

   What they truly grieve is the loss of the hope she brought into the world, not the woman herself. She was a mystery, and one not meant for everyone.    Each human is meant to find their own hope, however difficult it might be. That is the journey all living things must be willing to take, or they will never truly live.

--=¤=--

   He regains more strength with every second the battle rages on, pulling new evils out of the ground to protect himself as the spirits combat him across the continent.    They no longer recall the events which brought them here, only that their purpose is to end the darkness. It takes them nearly five days and a winding path which ends at Niagara Falls, but throughout all of this, they never falter.

   Two of them on each of his limbs is what it takes to hold him, while Scarabaeus crawls inside his chest through one of the cracks in his skin and continues into his heart.    When it explodes, the human male whom the dark one had been born into, reemerges for a little while. He is young and frightened. Someone haunts his thoughts while the pain ravages through his body, which is slowly being destroyed and sucked into the earth to be reborn in the future, as the cycle of light and dark continues.

   As a boy, this man suffered unspeakable things, taught to endure hatred and malice until he became dependent upon them. And so, when his torturer died, his world was upended, and the Darkling was unleashed.    Not born of anger or despair, but of the sudden absence of the pain this child had become so accustomed to. It was freedom which hurt him the most, and because of this, his monster was unlike all those before him.

   The Nine leave only when they’re certain his evil has been purged from the world, evident not just by the fading of the unnatural cloud but by how they can once more help the land to grow, returning it to its former vibrance within a few months.    Sadly, the animals and people who are lost can never be restored, but new ones will find their way here in time.

   Before she leaves this new land, Caelum lingers perched at the top of a spruce.    For a moment, she feels sad. But there is no longer anything to be sad about. Still, the feeling lingers, and she remains there, looking out over seven hills in the distance.    Somehow, she feels as though they have voices, speaking to her in a language she cannot interpret.

   But when she spreads her wings and flies over them, a melody seems to carry to her on the wind.    Something sad, but also hopeful.

--=¤=--

   You’re not sure what brought you into town today. You don’t have an errand or appointment or anything you need to do, so far as you can recall. But you have this strong sense that you’re missing something.    Like when you’ve forgotten something just as you’re about to leave the house, but you can’t figure out what it is, so you end up leaving and then halfway to work you realize that it was your fucking phone.

   It’s a small town in Sweden, quiet and calm, but not stale. You’ve lived here all your life, but in the woods twenty miles outside of the city center. And you’re an orphan, so you don’t have any family.    As a kid, going into town had always meant disappointment. Because you’d wanted to go to the movies or buy that dress which you’d been dreaming about for months after you’d seen it in a window once, or have the best ice-cream in town, or go to a restaurant for dinner.

   But your adoptive mother had been poor, only going into town for groceries, having to take you along since she lived alone, but unable to let you have any of the things you wished for.    She’d been a very kind woman, though, and you’d grown to love her as a mother before her unfortunate passing, shortly after you’d turned nineteen.    Sadly, the town has remained a negative to you ever since. You only go there for groceries or the occasional upgrade to your wardrobe, and each time it always feels like a chore, never anything you do just for the fun of it.

   Frustrated that you can’t work out what’s nagging at you, or why you think you’re gonna find it in the middle of the little city center, you take a seat on a bench in the main square, crossing your arms and legs and preparing to wait for exactly five minutes. If you haven’t thought of what it is by then, you’re going home.    Honestly, you feel incredibly stupid even sticking around for one minute. You don’t have any reason to be here.

   People are walking by, some rushing to get something done on their lunch break, others just moseying along without a rushed bone in them, but all of them with a purpose.    An elderly gentleman with a walker, and at least one gammy hip, sits down on the other side of the square, looking up and down main street, clearly waiting for someone.    He looks nice, but tired. His clothes are clean and very proper. He makes a point of not sitting too close to anyone else, so his walker won’t get in their way. He’s used to leaving space next to him for someone. A partner.

   When the people he’s waiting for turn up, it’s his grandchildren, and he lights up like a star in the sky.    But he’s not quite well. You can tell by… well, you’re not sure what exactly. You just know he’s not healthy. Probably fighting an infection of some sort.    Wait… How would you know that? How would you know anything at all about this man?

   This has happened before and it rattles you just as much each time, so you get up to leave, only then realizing it’s been twenty minutes since you sat down already, and you scoff at yourself as you quickly turn to your right, heading around the side of the bench you’ve been sitting on, to cut across a small patch of grass on your way to where you parked your car.    But you’ve only managed to get up and turn when you suddenly hit a wall.

   “Oof…” you breathe in surprise, just as you realize that you’ve actually collided with a person. A very broad and sturdy person.

   “My apologies, miss,” he politely says while he takes your right hand to keep you from losing your balance. “I’m afraid I have a habit of moving quietly.”

   He meets your eyes for a long moment and with each passing second, your insides turn warmer and strangely, you’re both pained and terribly relieved. As if you’ve missed him and never known it until now. As if you’ve been cut in half all your life, and his mere presence has made you whole.    And even more strangely, he feels the same. You can see it.    You know this man. His pain and his fears, but also his love.

   “…my Oberyn,” you whisper, having no idea where it comes from, half expecting him to start questioning your sanity.

   But instead, tears fill his eyes, and his hand tightens around yours as he pulls you closer.

   “Yes,” he answers, just as quietly, his voice strangled by strong emotions. “Yes, I am yours.”

   You will never come to recall anything from your previous life. Not the spirits or the dark one or even the dragon. Nor will you ever know why you and Oberyn had been granted the gift of rebirth as ordinary humans after the war.    In fact, no one knows the answer to that one.    Perhaps the Earth itself took pity on you both, after witnessing your sacrifice. Or maybe it was you, somehow realizing how to save your souls in those final moments of your life.

   But however it was accomplished, you will always know in your heart to cherish the man you fell in love with at first glance. You’ll always remember that he is the reason you’re alive, simply because without him, you’re incomplete.    The two of you are younger when you first meet this time around, and somehow you both know to cherish every day together, filling your lives with laughter and love, not ever worrying about what lies behind or ahead of you.

   Illnesses and accidents somehow pass your family by, as if some unseen guardian watches over you. And sometimes, late at night when the skies are the darkest and there’s no moon, there are moments when you could swear you see something gliding through the air on barely visible wings, and a pair of pale blue eyes looking at you.    Other times, sunlight tricks you into thinking there’s something in the corner of your eye, like green leaves seemingly moving on their own, or the flickering wings of an impossibly large butterfly. You’ve even heard the proud snorts and heavy hooves of a horse a few times, only to always look up and find nothing there.

   It happens rarely, not even once a year, but enough that with time, you begin to sense a familiarity with these things. An understanding that it isn’t just happening in your head. That some small part of you is connected to something bigger.    But you don’t care.    What matters to you is that your life is everything you want it to be. The rest is just white noise in the periphery.

   Your mother used to say that happiness is a choice, and that the mistake most people make is in thinking you only have to make it once, when in truth, you have to make it all the time. At every junction, crossroad, turn, and dip. You must choose to be happy, at every opportunity given, it’s not just gonna come to you automatically.    But she would always add that the very best way to live a happy life, is to find someone who makes the choice easier. Someone who makes your heart so light that you come to the right decision by simply existing in their presence.

   Most days, you feel like it was Oberyn who found you, though, not the other way around. You feel like he’ll always find you, no matter what happens.    Sometimes, you’re even absolutely certain that he found you eons ago, before the world had even become this world yet. That your paths are somehow linked by the cosmos itself. And every time this feeling hits you, it rings so true in your heart it makes you cry.    Then it passes, and you feel silly.

   But then again…

   What if…?

-=THE END=-

Thank you for taking this journey with me!

@harriedandharassed @kittenlittle24 @joelswritingmistress @pedrostories

[beedreamscape]

VERY LONG POST EXPLORING C3 AND WHY SO MANY PEOPLE MIGHT NOT LIKE IT/MY PERSONAL GRIPES WITH IT.

I ended up exploring a bit of that Reddit community of critical role fans (not the main one) where they basically gather together and commiserate how much they hate C3. It's frustrating to read because at some point you can tell they make no effort to engage positively with the campaign and have a penchant for hating anything about it.

But, from the perspective of someone with very little emotional connection to the past campaigns, I kinda get why C3 feels so different and, in my opinion, it's all about personal stakes for the characters.

As writers, we constantly hear that we must give the characters something personal to care about so that the reader may care about the plot - yeah city-destroying laser beam is a big stake, but if main character's loved one will be used as a sacrifice to the aliens to activate the laser beam unless they do something, the tension doubles.

And with a shallow look over the arcs of the past campaigns, especially the fans' favourites, a pattern I find is of those with heavy personal stakes:

People often point the Briarwoods arc as a favourite. It's not just about bringing down the powerful Briarwoods, it's about avenging Percy's family and bringing his beloved Whitestone back to its past glory, all mixed with the fighting of personal demons.

We also got Vax'ildans overarching arc with the Raven Queen and Scanlan's with Kaylie and his self-worth/discovery in the party.

In campaign three, the struggle of Fjord getting over Uk'otoa's influence and turning to the Wildmother, rediscovering himself. Bright Queen's Favor with freeing Yuza, uncovering Nott's past, grappling with their preconceptions of the empire and the dynasty, and meeting Essek. Losing then Recovering Yasha from Obann. Traveler Con.

This post about the first third of the C2 comparing it to C1 explains quite well how M9 is driven by the party's personal stakes over any obligation to any institution.

Not only personal stakes that build the value of the campaign, but places that grow as their own: Whitestone, Emon, Zephrah, Xhorhas, the Menagerie Coast, Zedash, etc.

That's what's missing from Campaign 3: anchors and personal stakes.

Bells Hells doesn't really care about anything! We're entrenched in the Ruidus plot ever since we learned what ruidusborn means in the beginning of the campaign and yet, what does that mean to them? It was the subject of Imogen's dreams and afflictions but what else? The main victims of it will be the gods, but they repeatedly state how much they don't care for the gods and are in doubt if losing them would be bad anyway.

In a certain perspective, I don't blame them - the plot has grown so massive and subjective, while they haven't - they're still level 10 nobodies against a god-eating moon-shaped monster and the insanely powerful guy that wants to free it.

Bells Hells doesn't care for the places they walk through! Only two members of the party are actually from Marquet! Imogen and Dorian. And both are running from their past! so they don't even want to be there! Ashton hates everything about it and all the others have no reason to cling to it.

Jrusar was such a great city with great dynamics that were only half explored and they don't seem to care to return to it even though so much goes unexplored. Yios meant nothing nor did Heartmoor or the Taloned Highlands (and its apparently juicy political intrigues nobody cared to explore) and barely a mention of Ank'harel or the Silken Squall.

WHY do we keep going back to Taldorei???

Marquet as a whole goes mostly unexplored and underused in the campaign and it's so upseting.

Bells Hells have nothing to lose! They hold no personal stakes to the plot, most of them don't have families and those that do feel like something so distant and impersonal, no place or city they love or feel connected to, the only thing they owned (the very valuable skyship rip) they destroyed with barely any consideration. Their morals feel like the only thing at stake and even that feels already lost.

C3 is pulling too much from past campaigns. From the moment they first contacted the VM people, it felt like a mistake, and every appearance since has felt so much like fan service (especially bc specific fan favourites are the recurring appearances, no variety). The time spent in Whitestone, the connections to Delilah, everything with Keyleth, etc.

This last one, in particular, contributes to that group of NPCs feeling, always revolving around some other character struggle - who cares what is going on with Bells Hells when Vax's trapped in an orb and Keyleth is half dying, and Caleb is in an anti-magic collar, and Trent is probably loose, and this character and that character...

We haven't spent proper time with C3-exclusive NPCs excluding Nana Morri since episode 50! No Lord Eshteross or Xandis or Ira or Jiana Hexum or the Green Seekers or Milo. It was so special to me having Dancer and Imahara Joe around even if briefly.

And Lord Eshteross death left such a huge gap in the dynamics of the party with the world. I think it was premature, especially because the thirst to avenge him (which I suppose was meant to fuel their hate and intention to kill Otohan) lasted so little and from there on out began the heavy and meta-gamey (and personally, OOC) relying on VM characters.

The ticking clock on the apogee solstice strained much of the campaign and brought this looming fear of 'if we don't take care of it nobody will so we can't waste time', therefore the alternative paths and personal arcs fell to the sidelines in favor of the elephant in the room, so it felt like several episodes of dragging towards this event, then the peak of ep 50-51, to re-start the drag of post moon beam.

Guest PCs are a whole other can of worms I'm not ready to explore also bc it entails a lot, but it's a shared sentiment that people miss Dorian and what he brought to the table.

On a personal view, the Hellcath Valley was my favorite arc. Bassuras felt so tactile and real and gritty, we had a clear objective of infiltrating the Paragon's Call and retrieving Armand Treshi, Deathwish Run, the mystery of Dusk unveiling into Yu, Fearne's parents encounter, Ira, Imahara Joe and reveals about Dancer and D., first FCG nervous attack, Otohan battle and Laudna's death. SO MUCH.

Special mentions to everything Jrusar and Shade Creepers, Heartmoor and the Museum, Savalirwood, and the time spent on the Silver Sun.

I miss these small-scale objectives, I miss the C3 NPCs, I miss Marquet, I miss turning our eyes to these character tensions and exploration, I miss the one-on-one talks, the unity they shared in those dire moments.

I can't wait to leave the Predathos plot and all the repetitive discussions within it behind.

This doesn't cover everything (interpersonal relationships are a whole other spectrum of discussion) but a few things I feel puts an obstacle towards people liking this campaign when comparing the past ones.

[sculptorofcrimson]

A Gift fit for a King

Inspired by @kit-williams !

~~~~~~

“It has been done. It's beautiful, isn't it? The view below. It’s done. It’s all done. It’s beautiful now. We’ve made them beautiful.” The Palace was, finally, complete. The Master of Mankind, ruling before all over His throne, gazing upon the prettiest, presentable faces of humanity, those who were the scum of the earth scoured by His gaze. The Custodes who had scrubbed Ararat clean of Cataegis corpses gave Him a bow. His eye lingers upon him for a few moments, then gestures once in dismissal.

+ Well done. + He purrs, and satisfaction, the only joy in a life devoid of emotion, flares through the Custodian.

Do you love us yet, my lord?

As tradition dictates, one kneels when offering the Emperor a prize. Valdor knelt as he offered the silver platter. Blood seeps through the plating to pool over his knuckles. 

“A gift for you, my Emperor.” 

The Emperor takes the platter with no more attention than you might offer a particularly amusing dog. With infinite carefulness, He removes the lid, examining the severed head with cold disinterest. Then, slowly, almost lazily, like a well-fed cat, He smiles and Valdor swoops into a full kneel. 

+ And what of her sons? +

“They were taken to be Custodes, my lord.”

They too shall love Him.

He smiled. And only inclined His head softly in dismissal.

Do you love us yet, my Emperor?

The next trophy tasted of ash. The Emperor gazes upon the chalice, its rim still coated with Custodes blood, interest flaring in His gaze. The kneeling Shadowkeeper, limping, skewed on one side, using his spear as a crutch, kept upright only through sheer yearning. The glint in His eye ignites. And that simple movement brings life flooding through the Shadowkeeper’s ruined limbs as he crashes down into a kneel.

“My lord…” he speaks through blood clogged lungs. The Emperor extends His claws for the chalice. He scrambles to deliver it into His palm. 

The hint of a smile. The edge of satisfaction. The Emperor muttering a sweet purr as He lifted the chalice, tasting the aura of bloodshed, of sacrifice it must have taken to recover it. 

“My lord.” The Shadowkeeper rasps. His eyes were wide with reverence behind that auramite, and desperate affection. “We present an offering.”

The Emperor opens His palm, His attention briefly shifting to the Custodes. With a single gesture, He beckons for the wounded Shadowkeeper to approach. + You have done well, Hades. + His voice hums in appeasement, attention already returning to the artifact. + I expect nothing less than perfection from you. Well done. +

Bloodshot, exhausted eyes flutter close behind that auramite, basking slowly in the joy of his master’s approval, however short it may have been. “Thank you, my lord. Thank you…”

Do you love us yet, my Emperor?

The Webway was hell. Hell upon this earth. His one bloodied eye blinked, dropped shut, and opened again with great force. With great difficulty, he lifted his head, a broken jaw grating as he opened a ruined mouth and tried to speak. The auramite smothered his cries. The bloody ruin of His Custodian gazed upon His perfect face, and tried to cry out. 

Slowly, with guarded interest, His gaze swept across the bloodied floor, and anchored upon the wreck that had once been His Custodian. 

A crack in His shield. A shattering of His mask. For a moment, in death, His face softened. Pity, and almost sorrow, nearly broke through as the corpse raised one hand in His direction, palm upwards, straining for Him. Wordless words fell from a tongue too ruined to speak.

“Do you love us yet, my Emperor?”

Ra stumbled as he ran. His tribute was nothing more than himself, nothing more than his heart, and yet it was enough. It was enough as he saw that moment of terrible, broken compassion in His face, the sorrow in age old eyes as He raised His sword and carved Him a path of flame. Ra asked for no explanation. Ra needed no explanation.

He turned, and ran from the broken gaze of his lord, abandoning his master behind to His fate. He fled into the embrace of the Webway, hearing the anguish of his brothers left behind, feeling the ache of a golden heart just newly broken in two.

The Emperor’s gaze falls upon him like a tender storm. It embraces him with not joy, nor victory, but sweet bitterness. 

And good-bye lasted forever.

He loved him yet, his Emperor.

Yes. Yes, He loved.

[an-indecisive-nerd]

It looks like magic has won the poll by a landslide, so that'll be the first lore drop we're posting!

I'm going to be primarily focusing on humans and how they gain magic, though I will touch on the other species and how their inherent magic works. I'll also be discussing vessels and prime vessels briefly.

Alright so, all magic on my worlds come from the gods, one way or another. There are ways to try and gain magic without the help of the gods, but you have to search out of universe for that.

Here's the process for how you would go about getting magic:

First and foremost you have to go to the high priest(ess) of the god of power (also known as Darkness) and tell them you are prepared to go through the ritual to gain your powers, and you acknowledge and accept the risks and responsibilities of this.

The ritual begins at sunrise on the nearest day that'll have a new moon, unless it's a day of sacrifice.

At sunrise you go to the edge of the forest. There'll you'll meet the followers of the god of power, as well as anyone else you've invited to participate, which usually includes all the others who follow your god.

What'll happen after you arrive is you'll be marked, given a tattoo of a rune of power at the base of your neck. Then there'll be a ceremony, a speech making sure you're aware of what you're getting yourself into, a contract you sign acknowledging that you're prepared, and a blessing from power's branch of followers.

The rest of the day is given over to you saying your goodbyes in case you don't return, mentally preparing yourself, and praying. Those you invited to watch your ceremony spend the day praying for your success, or at the very least, your survival.

At nightfall you return to the edge of the forest. You'll find the entirety of the Order there waiting for you, unless you specifically requested to do this alone. You cannot bring anything into the forest, you'll be given ceremonial robes, and everything else you must leave behind. With one final blessing, you enter the forest. Once you've disappeared into the trees the spectators will leave, and no one may enter the forest until you are pronounced dead, or reimerge, seven days later.

The power branch will stand vigil around the forest while you complete your trials. During this time they will not eat, drink, or sleep. Your life force will be what sustains them. Should you perish, the weakest of the branch will faint. The followers of power will announce your death, and your body will be found and returned. Unless this happens, the followers of power will not leave their posts, no matter how weak they feel. They will wait to see if you recover.

Meanwhile in the forest, your trials have begun. There'll be seven, one from each of the gods. (Creation and destruction don't get involved, death, life, and love aren't introduced for a good while). You'll have one trial per day. The first will be from the god you follow. The last will be from the god of power. The trials are unique to each individual, and those who have already been through them aren't allowed to discuss them. You get your powers if you pass all seven trials. Keep in mind that passing and surviving are different things.

Now then, you've survived all your trials and are nearing sundown on the seventh day. What happens now? If you didn't pass, you just make your way out of the forest and give everyone the bad news. You are allowed to retry if you'd like, but of course you have to wait until the next new moon.

If you did pass however, your god will appear in front of you. They'll place their hand over your heart and pump some of their energy into you.

All magic is a special type of energy. In order to use magic, you have to draw from this energy. You can find it anywhere a god's influence touches, so from the gods, from nature, from yourself, from pretty much anything. Of course, in order to actually do anything magical, you have to be compatible with magical energy. This basically means that the gods gave you permission to use magic and jumpstarted you with a bit of their own energy.

Now then, you'd think that if your magic came from a god, you'd have the same or similar powers to the god. This is not the case however. When the energy a god gives you enters your heart, it passes through your soul like it's a kind of filter. Passing through your soul causes the energy to take on a form of its own, changing to suit you. This also affects where you're best able to draw magical energy from.

For example I have a character named Eris. She follows the goddess of water, but she wields ice magic, which she has a much easier time using in cold environments, because she draws her energy from the cold, which matches her energy.

However, there are exceptions to both these rules.

The first exception are the followers of power. They tend to gain powers with no easy source of energy.

For example Eris can draw power from cold, snow, ice, whatever. However Mark, a character in the power branch, his magic is invisibility. What do you use to power invisibility? I'm sure you can come up with plenty of creative answers, but nothing really stands out as the "right" answer.

This is what makes power followers the strongest members of the Order. They have learned how to manipulate energy to use their magic, even with no viable energy source.

Another exception is healers. On every world there is one healer. They're chosen mostly by the soul filter system, but there always has to be one per world and their can't be more than one.

Exception no. 3 is vessels. Vessels are people whose magic does match their god's. This happens when their personality and beliefs align just well enough that the energy remains unaltered, or just altered slightly enough for the wielder to have some little quirk.

For example, my character Jaelynn, who follows water and has her goddess's water powers. However, whenever she uses said water abilities, the water always comes out boiling hot and she has to actively work at cooling it down. She's capable of it, she just has to beat her natural predisposition.

And finally example number four, by far the most important one plot wise. Prime vessels.

Prime vessels are a god's right hand. As such they are given a lot more power than the average person, and I do mean a LOT more. They're given so much power to make them prime vessels that they're always chosen when they're on the brink of death, so that their body immediately puts the energy into healing/sustaining themselves instead of getting overwhelmed.

Prime vessels also have the same power as their god, not because their personality matches, but because the amount of energy that gets pumped into them completely overwhelms their soul's filter.

There's no real defined limits on what kind of magic you can have, so anything you can think of is probably a thing somewhere.

As for other species that actually have their own magic, they have their own spark of energy within them, and their species comes with its own separate filter for that, tied to their body instead of their soul. While the soul filter is located over the heart, the race ones are located elsewhere.

For example, in vampires their filter is located over their eyes. A vampire's eye colour will tell you what kind of abilities they have. There are three mutations that can happen with this filter.

Mutation one: The filter is missing. That person wouldn't be able to use their species' magic

Mutation two: The filter is affected by an outside source, usually the person's particular circumstances. This mutation is the sort of thing that would be the cause of someone's magic not working right because they're stressed. On certain worlds/for certain races, there are things that will ALWAYS mutate their filter.

For example, Royal vampires have red eyes, and special abilities that come with them. Non Royal vampires can't have red eyes, and only Royals in specific positions have them.

Mutation three: This is the rarest mutation, where the soul filter somehow shifted to overlap with the species filter. This causes someone's species magic to alter in accordance with their soul filter and become a mix of their species magic and their specific magic.

In species where the species filter has a physical representation, such as a vampire's eye colour, that will be altered too.

For example, the natural vampire eye colours are blue, purple, black, and red if you’re a royal. A vampire who has this mutation however could end up with green eyes, or some other eye colour that's out of the ordinary.

Alright, that's pretty much everything I can think of that I have on magic! Hope y'all enjoy!

@thelovelymachinery @unforgettable-sensations @littleladymab @megamijadeheart @my-bright-legacy

@ominous-feychild @thecomfywriter @wyked-ao3 @anamelessfacelessnerd @differentnighttale

@mysticstarlightduck @the-letterbox-archives @leahnardo-da-veggie @paeliae-occasionally @tr4sh-p4nd4-404

@lovey-dovey-wovey @sidon0isnt0here @damonk13

[swallowedbyfandom]

Penelope wakes from the void feeling lighter than she has in years. Colin Bridgerton had been an albatross around her neck, without the partial bond tugging on her senses she is blissfully free. She staggered over to her mirror to undress and inspect herself. She would rather be unmarked than bare any trace of Colin on her body.

She stands naked as the day she was born in front of her mirror laughing in wild delight. Fate has finally been kind to her. No longer shall she languish as a prisoner to half her soul. She has a glorious new soul mark made up of beautiful flowers with beautiful meanings. She will grasp this new opportunity with both hands. She will not allow a single Bridgerton back into her life, not even Violet. She is free they will not shackle her to the betrayer of her soul. Never again.

The last thing Portia expects to see when she goes to check in on her daughter is finding her Penelope standing defiant, proud, and naked in front of her mirror with tears of laughter and joy in her eyes. Those joyful eyes shoot over to her in the mirror and suddenly her Penelope is a different creature all together. There are no traces of joy only rebellion on her face.

"I will run away and marry a footman before I allow you to entrap me into marriage with Mr. Bridgerton. I don't care what benefits you think it will bring our family. I have been freed from a bond that has choked me since I was a girl of ten. I will not go back."

Harshly Portia retorts, "If you had told me you were both partially bonded I would have had you married, instead of wasting my resources debuting you."

"Please you would never have believed me. When have you ever believed a thing I say? It is too late now, I will not live your life. You represent me as the only child you had after Papa betrayed your bond. You settled for treating me ill instead of having the courage to turn your back on him. I will not make the same mistake."

"I am your mother, you will do as I say."

"I most assuredly will not. You gave birth to me but you have never been my mother. I will drag our family's tattered reputation further into the gutter before the whole of society if you interfere with my love life. You will find I have nothing left to lose but my freedom and there is much I will sacrifice to keep it."

Portia can see it in her eyes, Penelope will burn everything and everyone to the ground to avoid marriage to Colin Bridgerton. Hell she may enjoy burning it all, in retribution for what she has endured. Her youngest daughter is a stranger to her. She loves Penelope she does but she also hates that Penelope is a child born from a severed bond. She is a reminder of betrayal and weakness to her.

"Do not test my resolve, mother. I promise you will be appalled by the lengths I go to and the spite I harbor. I want to be left alone during the off season. Next season I will pursue the marriage mart in search for a husband. I will arrange my own sponsor and chaperones."

Portia exits with rage and pride burning under her chest. She will wash her hands of Penelope unless she does something that causes a scandal. The sooner she leaves the better. Still Portia is going to make Colin Bridgerton regret surviving the bond, he ruined her ball and overshadowed her marvelous fireworks display.

Penelope watches her mother leave with relief. She will not allow anything to taint her new start. She pulls her nightgown back on and calmly rings her bell for food, tea, and a bath. There is much she must accomplish today. She must put out her paper, make plans to leave Mayfair before Colin recovers enough to call on her.

She needs time to grieve, plot, and heal. She needs to learn how to put herself first. Who is she? What is she, when she is not busy being the other half of Colin Bridgerton's soul? What is her future, now?

She knows she must grow a thicker skin. The Ton will be dissecting her every move searching for weaknesses. All will be searching for that elusive reason to explain why charming Colin Bridgerton did not want her. She will not take the blame for this. He had acknowledged their soul bond when he was twelve and she was ten. Then he had gone off to Elton and returned a distant figure. Somewhere along the way he changed his mind and decided he could do better.

She could not be gracious about his rejections any longer, with the severance she no longer has to. She is so very tired of being gracious of other people's faults. He is not hers anymore, she shall not concern herself with him or his family in anyway other than avoidance.

She will be gone from Mayfair tonight. She will miss most of the Bridgerton's but she has to move on. A clean break from her once fated family is a price she is willing to pay. She shall send a farewell for Lady Violet to thank her for her years of kindness but that is all, she can afford. Perhaps she will send Lord Bridgerton a note so he can keep his family away from her. Yes that would be best the last thing she needs is dutiful Anthony Bridgerton deciding she is his responsibility. She will have to nip that nonsense in the bud.

She sets her maid to packing her belongings for a long trip. She has discreet travel arrangements to make and some documents to drop off. Thank god she already had forged identification documents in the event she was discovered as Lady Whistledown. She will be able to disappear without the Bridgertons tracking her down.