#( the king: FIND THEIR CHILDREN SOMEONE REPRODUCED )

[guideoftime]

If there's something strange In your neighborhood Who you gonna call? (The Sheikah) If there's something weird And it don't look good Who you gonna call? (The Sheikah)

#( //throws myself out the door ) #( okay but tell me I'm wrong ) #( Hyrule in trouble: ) #( The King: SOMEONE GET THE SHEIKAH ) #( a soldier: sir you killed them all? ) #( the king: FIND THEIR CHILDREN SOMEONE REPRODUCED ) #( ooc ) the mun.

[lulu101]

I’ve had multiple JD AUs in mind but the one I’m most fixated on writing rn is:

- “Hook”

Some info in this AU, trolls can reproduce an egg by asexual reproduction or two trolls have strong feelings for each other that it can manifest through an egg

Another thing to add, the trolls had managed to escape from Bergen Town before Brozone split up, and the Family Harmony was meant to be their first concert in the new Troll village as a way to celebrate

What changes is that once their Grandma’s taken by the Chef and Branch turns grey, King Peppy decides they need to relocate once again, which none of the brother were aware of (I’ll get in detail with Viva and Clay’s situation later)

While exploring the Neverglade Forest and having an egg, he also finds baby Rhonda

The egg reminds him of his brothers, especially Bitty B, and wanting his egg to grow up with his family, he decides to head back

Something goes wrong though and while severely injured, stumbles near the Rock Trolls, where King Thrash and toddler Barb were on a stroll of sorts

Despite clearly being a pop troll, King Thrash does wish to see egg orphaned so he does his best to save JD

Unfortunately, his injuries were too severe and the doctors note that him being able to get close to the Rock Volcano from the Neverglades was a miracle

The egg does hatch and JD gets to hold him before his death but isn’t able to slip out the name he wanted for him (Branch actually knows as JD had once told him as a baby what he would name his children if he had any but his memory won’t be jogged until the end of the fic)

Barb is the one who names him, which is Hook

Hook is then raised by the Rock Trolls, who don’t treat him any differently as he was basically one of them

Rhonda is raised by them as well, her being Hook’s and Barb’s “secret” hideout

Hook helps Barb in World Tour and meets Poppy when she’s captured, who is shocked to meet him as he’s nearly identical to JD from Brozone

He briefly explains that he had been raised by the Rock Trolls, he has no loyalty to the Pop Trolls and is doing it because he feels it’s the least he can do for Barb

Branch doesn’t meet him until after the strings are ripped and every genre gets their color back

Think of it like the scene from Secret of the Wings where Tinker Bell meets Periwinkle, with Branch seeing a familiar silhouette and calling out “John Dory?”

King Thrash has a strong reaction to that name (he had forgotten his name, only knowing he was named after a fish), which prompts Barb and Hook to turn around, Branch going through a mix of emotions at seeing someone who looks identical to JD standing right before him

Cue Branch starting to tear up and growling in frustration/hurt when Hook gets defensive over King Thrash while asking who John Dory is

I already have ideas for Band Together but I feel like I should save them until I’m done with this first part first (there’s define a lot of angst)

Part 2

#brozone #john dory #trolls john dory #trolls barb #trolls #trolls king thrash #trolls world tour au #trolls branch #trolls poppy #trolls au #trolls fanfic #John Dory has a son #said son is raised by the Rock Trolls because they’re not monsters #They name him Hook because JD died holding him before he could announce his name #The only thing JD left him is Rhonda #Did I really come up with this because I thought it would be sad if Brozone couldn’t get proper closure? #And that it would be even more sadder is not only does Hook look like JD #But he sometimes unknowingly acts like him #hook au

[aimportantdragoncollector]

ask game where Yoichi who lives in a small cottage on the beach one day finds an injured mermaid (which is AFO) on the shore and decides to help it. It turns out to be the biggest mistake of his life.

Poor Yoichi, once again doomed after foolishly inviting AFO into his life:

Yoichi is a marine biologist. When he finds an injured merman with white hair and red eyes washed up on the beach, he immediately takes him home. Yoichi tends to the injuries and keeps him in a bathtub filled with saltwater. He does not tell anyone, because he assumes if merpeople have not revealed themselves to humans then they don't want to be known. Although Yoichi cannot speak the merman's language, he uses pictures to figure out that he eats raw fish.

As soon as the merman is well enough to swim, Yoichi sneaks him back to the beach. The merman grabs Yoichi's head and drags him under. Unbeknownst to Yoichi, he saved All for One, the King of the Mer. All for One is a cruel and tyrannical king who got injured in a battle against rebels. He feels grateful to Yoichi for saving his life, and has decide to express that gratitude by turning Yoichi into a mer.

Merpeople have no reproductive organs, so they reproduce by drowning humans. This process transforms humans into their own kind. Usually merpeople pick children, who are easier to make forget about their past. Sometimes merpeople will fall in love/lust with a human and decide to drown them. It's unusual to adopt someone as old as Yoichi into a family but not unprecedented.

All for One brings Yoichi back to his castle and announces that Yoichi is his new brother. Using magic, All for One erases Yoichi's memories. But it does not work perfectly because Yoichi is too old.

For many years, Yoichi lives with his overprotective brother in the underwater castle. Yoichi keeps having terrifying dreams of drowning. He also clashes with his older brother over his cruelty toward those he considers lesser.

One day a mer expedition brings back a microscope from a shipwreck, and it triggers Yoichi's memories of his past. He tries to run away. All for One locks Yoichi inside a dark trench to break his spirit so it will be easier to remove his memories again.

Second is a Cecaelia (half octopus-half human) and Third is a neried (sea nymph). Both of their people are enemies to All for One. They find Yoichi while investigating what All for One is hiding in the trench, and rescue him.

Yoichi never had any family to return to in the human world, and so much time has passed that the most of the people he knew have died of old age. But he finds happiness with two new loves, living in freedom.

#5 headcanons game #closed ask game #Yoichi Shigaraki #Trioholders

[kitweewoos]

Since he was young, all Eddie Munson could think about was making music, writing and performing his songs in front of a crowd. That's how he ends up forming a band with his friends, and even if they have maybe ten people at their shows, all there for the beer more than the show, it's the best time of his life. The worst thing that could happen, he supposed, when Corroded Coffin is actually becoming mildly popular is that Eddie starts to lose his voice. It starts with an ache after every show, and when he finally visits a doctor, it's some kind of medical condition where he can speak for now but the stress he puts on his vocal cords in order to perform their songs will do irreparable damage and his doctor really doesn't want him to continue to perform. So, Eddie has to find another vocalist or Corroded Coffin is over for good.

Steve Harrington would do anything for Dustin, really, but this shouldn't have been one of those things. He hesitates to call it a party, but it's a gathering full of nerds, and he's there. He's bored as hell, since Dustin and his little group of friends are off somewhere doing god knows what. He's just there to make sure they get home safe and in one piece, because he can't have Joyce and Claudia not trusting him because their children came home a little too late and with scrapes from a fight or two they shouldn't have been in. He was there, essentially, to babysit the little dorks, and he's fucking bored. He can't help it when he starts singing gently to himself to the instrumental someone put on the stereo. It's not much, but it's something to amuse himself with. At least, until he's overheard by Eddie Munson of all people.

There's a sound, perfectly on pitch and beat to the instrumental pumping from the speakers, and Eddie can't help himself. He's drawn to it. At the other end of it, is Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, the Hair, the King of Hawkins High, was singing along in tune with a guitar backing almost without effort, or at least that's what it looks like. That's the voice he needs, though. That's exactly the voice they need to make Corroded Coffin even better, and save Eddie's voice. The only obstacle is Steve himself.

"So, Harrington, what can I do to convince you that I need you?" Eddie starts, and Steve startles. "Excuse me?" "Your voice, my lyrics, the band's music, we could be rock stars with that combination. What do you say?" "You sing in your own band, though. What do you need me for?" "Curiosity," he replies, but he can tell Steve doesn't believe him. "And medical necessity. I'm losing my voice, or I will, if I continue to sing, according to my doctor." "Ah. So you're desperate." "Give me a few songs, Harrington. One afternoon, sing a few songs with us, and if you hate it, you don't have to come back or see me ever again. But, if you like it, then you're becoming a part of rock history here."

When Steve shows up to the next Corroded Coffin practice, he finds that he doesn't hate singing with them, Eddie leaning in to press his body closer to Steve while performing. He likes the songs, the beat, the bass thumping in his chest, the camaraderie of it all, and he likes singing with a purpose, not just to amuse himself. His parents would hate it, and maybe that's partially why he's here, to prove something to himself and to them. Besides, he likes the way Eddie smiles at him, and leans into him like they've been friends forever, and treats him like a person rather than a legend. He likes it here.

Eddie doesn't expect to like Steve Harrington as much as he does, but Steve puts his whole chest (gorgeous, hairy, perfectly sculpted chest) into everything he does. He's strong and quick, he gets Eddie's dumb jokes somehow, he's stupidly kind to the little duckling nerds he's collected somehow, and he sings Eddie's lyrics exactly how they were meant to be. He gives a new life to the songs, a growl in his voice that even Eddie couldn't reproduce. He likes hearing Steve sing his songs, so if he asks Steve to come by separate from practice for a little songwriting session, no one should really be able to blame him. And if the sessions devolve into making out against Eddie's bed, well....

He's right, though, with Steve at the forefront of Corroded Coffin, they do make rock history, it just happens to involve more kissing than anticipated.

#stranger things #st #steddie #stranger things au #st au #steve harrington #eddie munson #musician au #kit creates #kazoo moodboard

[pangolinheart]

Looking at the Miqo'te sub-species blurbs it strikes me that Keepers of the Moon and Seekers of the Sun seem to be presented as inversions of one another's cultures (literally night and day) but...

They essentially have the same family structure, give or take a few members.

They both essentially have large groups of related females that live together long-term with adult males being mostly temporary members (though on a longer-term basis than Keeper males) and adolescent males leaving the group when they become adults.

The Sun Seeker lore says that Seeker groups are "centered around the Nunh" but... that's only kind of true? Or, at least, it has to be true if there are usually only 26 tribes that are each represented by one letter of the Eorzean alphabet. The naming convention implies that there's at least some stability in these groups' existences, and for that to be true there has to be a consistent through-line in the core membership, which by the nature of their rules can't be the Nunh (because Nunhs could be deposed at any time and will have to change at some point due to age.) Seeker lore makes mention of Tias leaving their homes to become part of other clans, but there's no mention of female miqo'te doing this.

So, presumably, when a new Nunh challenges an old Nunh, they "inherit" the old Nunh's harem (obligatory "gross"). Because if the females dispersed when their Nunh was defeated and the new Nunh had to build a new harem, why bother with challenging an old Nunh at all? I suppose it's possible but it doesn't make a lot of sense.

It makes more sense for the females of the groups to remain together with deposed Nunh's either leaving the group to go elsewhere or "retiring" and staying with the group as a non-reproducing member. Tias then either leave the group to challenge another group's Nunh or to seek their fortunes elsewhere, though if the right to have sex/reproduce just isn't that important to them they could theoretically stay with the group.

And if Tias wanted to reproduce they would have to leave the group because, and I cannot stress this enough, they are related to every woman there. (Even with multiple Nunhs you still get into first- and second- cousin territory.)

The primary difference seems to be who holds the positions of authority within a group. For the Keepers of the Moon it's the elder female members of the family and for the Seekers of the Sun it's whoever the current Nunh is. But they're family structure is both based primarily around mostly stable groups of female relatives with males coming and going to father children. So... pretty much exactly the same.

As for the Nunh being the head of the clan and "in charge" - this is a difference and it is true but... probably not as true as it first appears. My pet theory has always been that Seeker of the Sun family structure is based on (someone's very poor understanding of) lion tribes. Even if that's not true, there's still a parallel to be found in the comparison. Lion prides are "ruled" by one or a few breeding males. But they're really there on the good graces of the lionesses, and only get to play king as long as the lionesses decide to let them. It's not super common, but if a group of lionesses decides that a male lion's presence is no longer desirable (usually in nature because there's a stronger, more "attractive" male around, but presumably for Sun Seekers it could also be because they just don't like him) they often can and will expel him. The male lion, like the Nunh, gets to be "in charge," but even if they're bigger and scarier than the females there are more of them than there are of him. (And they're all sisters.)

It's never mentioned in any of the sparse Seeker lore addressed in game, but this is theoretically something that could happen within a Seeker group if all of the female members decide that they'd rather not keep a Nunh around, either for some pragmatic reason or because they just don't like him they could kick him out and find a different Nunh. I doubt this is something that will ever happen in-text but I think it's an interesting possibility.

So, while on the surface Sun Seeker families are centered around the Nunh and Moon Keeper families are centered around older females, they both live in matrilineal groups of related females, with men coming and leaving for reproduction purposes. Superficially the "head" of the Moon Keepers are the older females and the "head" of the Sun Seekers are the Nunhs. But the Nunh only gets to be "in charge" as long as the Seeker females decide to put up with him, so who's really calling the shots?

So, if you don't mind being reductionist for the sake of humor, the only difference between Keepers and Seekers is that Seeker women are more patient with men .

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #miqo'te #rambling #lore speculation #LISTEN this is only an analysis based on population structure #and doesn't take into account the many complex and nuanced factors that can influence human social groups #or the large spectrum of gender and gender roles (though the lore doesn't acknowledge this anyway lol) #please don't @ me about it #i didn't even GO INTO the near-complete inviability of the sun seeker population....

[bluiex]

I have this story idea base around the legends of Herobrine. I'll call it for now, "Children of The Night" till I can come up with something better.

So a little background as to what Scar is for the story is. He is called what many would call, cursed. The reason he's called cursed, is because of the few times he has been genuinely mad or angry at someone. When mad his eyes have turn white and glow brightly, that it makes day seem dark.

Scar however is not cursed like everyone assumes, He is the first born of Herobrine, and the glowing eyes, are a blessing tied to their blood line. The Brine family are able to share their gift with people who are unafraid of them. Though when someone of none blood gains this blessing, their can never stop glowing. This being the reason why many people find it a curse, instead of a blessing.

I will now list a few quirks of the blessing that may or may not, relate to Scar, and his unspoken of siblings.

There are point on the body of a brine that are called the extreme sensitivity point. The neck area is one that they are born with, and guard heavily around though they don't trust. Around the people they do trust how ever, it is one of the places that relaxes their body instently and turns them into puddy. Now here come the why that is the spot their are born with, the other spots can be the scars that litter their bodies, or the calluses they developed. Being show any sort of affection to theses areas, is first a way to relax, if they are already relaxed. Then it leads to great amount of pleasure.

Lets also add two different types of people, this isn't your normal hybrid thing, this is the unspoken random chance of being born immortal, or what I like to call Born-Spawn.

In this world, There is a seperation in the people known as Those Born and The Spawns. Born are the people who only have up to a hundred years to live, and have to reproduce. Spawn are immortal as death isn't permanent for them, they aslo don't age. There is a rare chance that a born becomes a spawn when they die young. There is an even rarer chance that Spawn marry a Born and have children. It created the group inbetween known as Born-Spawn. Once the Born-Spawn reach adulthood just get called a Spawn so that it is forgotten where they come from. This is to protect them even if cruel, but it would be more cuel to let the world do what they want with their existence.

All of Herobrine's kids are Born-Spawn and about a few hundred years old now.

Now that we have the blessing quirkiness out of the way, along with with the differences in birth. I have some inform on the role implications. Just to make it more dramatic, with Scar being Herobrines first born.

Herobrine in several interpretation of his legend, one of them him being king over all the mobs, across the three realms, and being one of the first Spawns that came to be.

He has been King for thousands of years, and with the ever growing population of Mobs and Regular people. He needed help maintaining the order of the realms. Intrusting the first three of his children to become a Lord to one of the realms they so choose.

Now a little lore thrown here to make to explain why Scar is where he is.

Scar when ask by his father what realm he would like to be lord of, he allowed his sibling to pick first. Blue,(place holder name, may call him Link) the second oldest of the children, chose The Nether, his reasoning is that he has alway had an affinity for the fire and the souls Forsaken to that place. Green,(also place holder) the oldest of the middle children, choose to help their father in the over world. His reason is because, it has a large diversity of mobs that range for easy to handle to completely unruly. Examples are Zombies to The Warden.

Now Scar when having heard his siblings choices, it was a shock because the rest of his sibling always talk about the end and how much power it must takes to controll the void realm.

Now back to when he was asked before what realm he want to be the lord of, his first thought was the end, it wasn't because he thought he had the power, it was because of someone he met. Though he quickly had a second though, wonder if one of the other wanted the end. So having heard what they felt and why they made their choice he admited to his family why he didn't choose right way. He would have been happy being left with what every wasn't picked. If the end was chosen by either them.

Once Scar, Blue and Green had been announced as the lords of the end, nether, and overworld. They had to leave home and go into hinding on their own. After all, they will soon be gaining popularity for the power titles they have been given, and start to be hunted for seemingly no reason.

Optional Extra Content to use.

One day either Blue or Green contacts Scar with an idea, that will cause a lot more trouble then it's worth, but meet up to do it anways. They each take one mob from each realm and make it apart of them.

Scar would start with a Zombie, going on the ger a Wither Skeleton, then lastly the Ender Drangon. And for some reason down the line drowned, making the zombie part just that.

Blue takes a regular Skeleton, The Wither, to just make it a trend that each sibling has a boss or mini boss as one of the mobs, and ends it off with and Enderman.

Green stupidly takes The Gaint, a mob that was never truely apart of the world, that looks like a zombie. It became something he regretted instantly, and makes up for it with a blaze and shulker, then later while still having the gaint ands the Warden to be the closest thing to what his siblings are.

Now I'm going to out line a little bit on weapons, also optional.

Each of the lords has a weapon that represents their domain.

Scar has a transformation type weapon known as "The End Star," it was created from the void of the end enhances Scars natural combat abilities. Making him more lethal, and far more observant then before. The End Star can become just about any weapon, tool or armor piece you can thing of.

Blue has a weapon made form multiple Nether Stars called "Nether's Heart," it is also a transformation type weapon, but it's limited to weapons and tools, the cross bow, tridant and shovel not included on that list.

Green has a weapon called the "North Star," it was made in the faded light of the moon, as the sun peaked over the horizon for a new day. Just like the other weapons it also transforms, but only into close combat weaponry, lacking long range weapons and regular tool capability.

The last weapons that shall be listed are called, "The Corrupted Weapons," they are just about any tool or weapon given a lethal twist. It does something that isn't possable in normal minecraft, stops regeneration, keep your hunger bar low and keep those who can respawn from being able to respawn at all. So these weapons make permanent death spawns.

So yeah that the out line for what Scar is, in relations to the story idea I have for you. Now on to the story draft.

------------

Grian is a cartographer, curently exploring the area around the near by village. He had been ask to fill in some gaps in their outdated maps, and just bring them up to date. He agreed because only because they said they'd pay 20 diamond block for this to be done. It was a lot of diamonds just for an updated map, but with the rumors of a brine being in the forest and caves around the village, no one was going to risk taking a job like this. Grian didn't believe these rumors going around and wanted to prove it to be a hoax. The village gave him the saplies he needed free, and promised the diamonds when he got back safe.

As Grian explored and marked everthing down on the map, it started to get dark. He could barly tell where the sun was for within the forest. He did conclude though that it was late enough that he needed to set up camp for the night. Set up is slow and finding good wood to use is even slower. Once camp is set up, he starts cooking some rabbit he killed earlier that day. With it on the fire, he had some time to waste or thats what he thought till a group of people walked out of the shadows brandishing weapons, corrupted weapons.

Now Grian started to panic a bit. He stands brandishing his own weapon to fend th off, but faced with the fear of never coming back. It's obvious he's shaking looking at the group surrounding him.

Once the fight for his life began, it lasted a good while, with a few peole died at his hands. One of them having burnt to death by his flaming rabbit dinner. He was starting to wear thin in this fight and he realized just how many people had came to attack him. Watching them grin at his tired form, one of them goes to end his life. But, something stops them mid swing and they drop to the ground. Rithing in pain the disappearing into a puff of items like the their comrades before.

Now every one of Grian's attacker are looking at a set of glowing eyes in the darkened woods. Fearfully they start to run off in every direction to keep the eyes off them, but two more sets appear in two of the direction four or five people had been heading offing them quickly. As the rest beelined it straight to their camp.

The first set of glowing eyes, made its way up to Grian, as the other two chased the assailant to finish torturing them. Once the tall brown hair man stood in front of Grian, his eyes dim and shows concern for the cartographer. He lifts a hand to Grian's face as in the other hand His Bow changes to a star, that he just clips to his belt as he bring that hand, to the smaller males waist. Watching carefully for any signs of pain, the stranger check Grian over for injury.

He smiles when he find no injury, and lets go. Grian had just relaxed in the mans touch, and long for in back once it left. He blames in on exhaustion, and for now, let him believe that. Grian goes back to sitting by the fire and remembers he had to sacrafice dinner in an effort to survive. The taller male sat by the fire with the smaller male and adds more wood to it.

"I watched a bit of your fight, before shooting one of those nasty creatures attacking you." The man finally spoke. He looked at the fire watching making sure it becomes a good cooking fire.

"It was funny to see you burn a man to death with over cooked rabbit meat. Though I'm sure that was supposed to be your dinner for the night." He jokes turning to Grian with a goofy lopsided grin. Grian stares for a moment before trying to respond to the comment but get cut off.

"So what what would you like to eat instead a have a few different meats on me, I even have vegetables to go along with it if you want." The man offers quickly, turning back to the fire a bit hungry himself. Grian blinks in suprise that the strange man is offering to make him food.

"I'm guessing you don't have rabbit on you, other wise you would have offered that first, right?" His question brings the other mans attention back, with a grin.

"You are correct sir, I have mutton, beef, and pork on me right now with corrots, beets, and potatos." He said in a proud tone, and a wave of of an arm like he trying to sell Grian on the idea of them.

Then continues "Normally I would also have chicken and bread on me, but my brothers and I had chicken and dumpling for breakfast. Finishing if the chicken and bread." The last statement gets a chuckle out of Grian before he responds to the original question that stemmed the conversation.

"Beef and potatoes sounds good to me, but how are you going to cook it?" The strang man does a bit a mischievous laugh, as he take the star from his belt and turns it into a skillet.

"With this of course, it come in hand for just about any situation I get myself into." He puts the skillet on the fire with a grin and start getting the ingredients from his inventory.

Grian how ever feels like how just woke from a dream, and goes rigged next the man making food. With a realization. He's sitting next to Lord of The End. The man call "The End," and was saved by him as well. This man was with his brothers watching him fight, then stepped in to keep him from dieing? What did they want with him, to go and save him. Grian's thoughts just kept going, till he heard the man next to him speak again.

"My name is Scar by the way. Scar GoodTimes Brine. I noticed you started to panic, so I thought I'd be a good time to introduce myself. Cut your panic short." He looks at Grian with a sad but comforting look, his eyes nolonger glowing at all. It calms Grian down greatly, to his dismay, to hear the mans voice cut through his thoughts. And for it to be his name, he couldn't help but repeat it like an echo.

He turns his head to look at the fire, and then leans on Scar, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. Here he was, sitting with a brine relaxed after having fought for his life, about to be servered food. He might just believe he died and making up something to convince himself otherwise.

Scar however pulls Grian from his thoughts again by putting his free hand on his waist. Making the dirty blond look up at him, with a tired sad look that said everything. Scar took the skillet of the fire and set it to the side to cool. He holds the tired man in his arms, humming a enchanted melody to restore some of the energy lost, and just enough of it so that the man can eat without passing out.

Once Scar pulled back from the man he asks, "Do you have enough energy to eat before you rest for the night?"

"I think so, honestly I don't know how I'm still here." Grian's response was a bit of a suprise to Scar, not many joke like that around him after find out who he is. He smiles relieved to have gotten so much trust for something so little. He hands the food over to the smaller man. His smile bright as he watches the other eat.

Grian is happily eat loving just how good everything tastes, and he knows for a fact he didn't see Scar do anything special right before cook. So it was probably done way in advanced so he didn't have to do much when he stop to eat. Once Grian was done he gave the skillet back to Scar and decided he should finally introduce himself to the other. "Thank you Scar, for the Food. I'm Grian by the way, and it's been nice sitting here with you." The way Scar lights up at getting Grian's name says alot about how interaction usually go with people.

Scar after a minute say Grian's name aloud. Anyone could tell he loves the other's name with how much admiration and care seeped into his voice. Grian blushed at the way Scar said his name, told him never say it that way again, but Scar didn't stop and the two talked till grian fell asleep on Scar.

Scar put Grian in his tent and made sure that he was comfortable. He quickly made himself some food. Then disappeared in the direction his brothers went. It's to make sure that those damned men never come back to hurt anyone again. To never hurt his little bird Grian again.

The Next day Grian woke up along, and thought it was all a dream. A really vivid dream, and winderful dream. He however can't sit there daydreaming he has work to do and set off marking the area on the map like the day before. Not realizing he'd be meeting the Brine again very soon~♡

-----------

I'm just going to quickly apologize for the loads of info I put in. I didn't want the whole thing to be a confusing just because I added some abnormal details.

I just wanted to do something different and to be honest. I really didn't have a plan for what Grian's role was till I started writing. It just fell into place as I went, all with a click.

I do hope you enjoy this, because there may be another part to in really soon.

OOOH THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL!!!

This whole concept is just... Wow- how you've come up with this- sooo good! I adore how you've made Herobrine and relating him to Scar and having brothers to rule the realms.. Also I really like Scar's weapon, the weapons in general are really cool.

Thank you so much for sharing!! It's so so good and I would loooove to see more if/when you write it out!! :D

#long post #bluie gets an ask poggers #scarian au

[saintlyseavvitch]

Flotsam and Jetsam: A Love Letter to Sidekicks

I am someone obsessed with Disney sidekicks. Animal or human, they tend to be my favorites. If it’s a character who gets half the screentime but the best lines, you can bet I own something to tell you they’re my favorites. Yep, I own a Jaq and Gus dress. Yes, I am a card carrying Seven Dwarfs fanatic. Disney fairies like Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather are my speed. Even the more evil-aligned sidekicks like Joanna the Goanna (that’s a deep cut!) or Iago make me smile. So that brings me to Flotsam and Jetsam. They’re modeled after moray eels. Eels are frequently misunderstood and thought of as terrifying creatures. While morays have powerful jaws, it’s unlikely they’ll use them unless they’re very hungry. Strange thing is, the octopus is one of their prey. But in this relationship, they’re getting something much more than food out of it. Morays are also known to be very cooperative! So this is much more than science. They finish each other’s sentences and there’s a suggestion they might be twins. Scientifically, we have no idea how eels reproduce so their choice to stay together is likely one more influenced by the movie’s quiet LGTQ+ symbolism that often goes unnoticed. They’re all each other has. Even Ursula, who often mentions she’s been exiled for being misunderstood, stays with Flotsam and Jetsam because they’ve become her found family. While this relationship can borderline on toxic (but what family can’t sometimes) they’re doing what they can to get by. Like many villain-sidekick combos, there’s slapstick and heated verbal commands that start elevating towards abuse once the movie’s conflict heats up. Still, there’s something to point out here. Ursula makes sure to tell Ariel this was not personal. This was all about the trident. That is, until, Ariel (rightly so) attacks Flotsam and Jetsam. I think you remember the line. It’s Ursula exclaiming “My babies, my poopsies!” while cradling the remains. When it came to dark moments in a Disney film, The Lion King never got me. It was this moment. It was a moment where I considered that maybe a hero could go a little too far. Even if Ursula was absolutely in the wrong and this was life or death, the voice acting ripped my heart out. 

Now Ursula has lost everything. For those of us who are queer, we often have to find our own families. In 1989 this was very true. Ursula was based off Divine, a drag queen who was “truly nasty” and made amazing films that were absolutely not for children. But if you’re old enough, please watch these films. They’re shocking, grotesque, but very much a lost art. You’ll see just why Disney chose Divine as her model. 

Drag in general was Ursula’s roots as a character and even her concept art reflects it. She’s an aging drag queen with a grudge. She’s angry and isolated. She’s got two eels in her corner who support her. Once that support is gone, there’s a vacuum left behind. Flotsam and Jetsam are important and amazing characters, for what few lines they have. You start to be very happy you can see them more in the comics and the animated series. These are two characters who support Ursula and make up her little family that she’s made for herself. Sometimes when you’re alone in the world, that’s all you can do. This is still relevant right now. Sometimes when you aren’t queer, found family can be the family you really needed all along.

Love your sidekicks.

#long post #my babies my poopsies #i just have some feelings right now about two eels and i needed to cry mmkay

[ancestorsofjudah]

1 Kings 18: 9-15. "Elijah."

A large number of Hebrew terms have "El" and "Yah" in them. El is what is of God called Elohim in its completeness, Yah is His name. It is an ancient word. We have records of this wonderful and splendid God called Yah, or Ea, or Ra from the most ancient of times.

Always a problem solver, a provider of keen wisdom when mankind gets caught in a jam, this God promises to be our salvation whenever we are in need, especially when we are in the evil clutches of other human beings.

Elijah is therefore the combination of all these things that represent the Presence of God. His appearance in the midst of the most corrupt regime in the Kingdom of Israel is significant because it takes place in the Book of Kings, the Melachim.

The King of Israel is the most important person on the surface of the earth. He (or she) is the resonance between generations of men that revere the Torah and ensure our accomplishments in its wake are never in vain. As we read on we learn the world mourns the absence of such a person, and why restoring the Imperial Jewish Monarchy Established by Joseph is important to the survival of the human race:

9 “What have I done wrong,” asked Obadiah, “that you are handing your servant over to Ahab to be put to death? 

10 As surely as the Lord your God lives, there is not a nation or kingdom where my master has not sent someone to look for you. And whenever a nation or kingdom claimed you were not there, he made them swear they could not find you. 

11 But now you tell me to go to my master and say, ‘Elijah is here.’ 

12 I don’t know where the Spirit of the Lord may carry you when I leave you. If I go and tell Ahab and he doesn’t find you, he will kill me. Yet I your servant have worshiped the Lord since my youth. 

13 Haven’t you heard, my lord, what I did while Jezebel was killing the prophets of the Lord? I hid a hundred of the Lord’s prophets in two caves, fifty in each, and supplied them with food and water. 

14 And now you tell me to go to my master and say, ‘Elijah is here.’ He will kill me!”

15 Elijah said, “As the Lord Almighty lives, whom I serve, I will surely present myself to Ahab today.”

No one wants to bear testimony of the God of Israel and His Providence and be laughed at or worse, punished for it. If we say "Elijah is here" there must be proof of it. There must be evidence the Torah works and it bears fruit everlasting to the human race if we comply with it.

We are greatly blessed, there is bonafide evidence the God of Israel is real, there is proof of His Angels and we can now delve into the purified meaning of His Words and head in a straight direction. We know this Being has touched every faith, He has voiced His love and His anger to every prophet of every religion, and has worked like a dog to help us become men, women and children of Grace.

Obadiah is like many of us, he says above "I have worshipped this God since my youth...hoping it was not in vain."

The verse says Ahab sent people to look for proof of God. but God hid Himself. This is how it will always be. Men like Donald Trump and those that call themselves the Evangelicals anyone who celebrates when others are unhappy or oppressed, these will never harness the power of prophecy or see the Kingdom of Heaven. God will never sign His Name next to losers like these.

Let us analyze the scripture above in depth and explain why it is not naive or vain to worship the Lord and why it is wrong to turn the good and Godly over to the whims of animal men that cannot behave like human beings:

v. 9: 7675: זו‎זה‎, "this is it". This means the Great Flood. When good people cannot raise their voices over the infamous, then it is time to go to war.

v. 10: 12156, אבאהו‎, "Daddy". The term daddy can apply to a man who has reproduced it can also apply to a male high school boy who is a cheerleader. Is truth.

v 11. 4591, דהט‎א‎‎, dehat. "doutbless, take hold of the meaning."

The obviously related adverb δη (de) serves as a particle of confirmation or affirmation: truly, by all means.

The verb חתה (hata) means to seize or snatch up, usually of fire or coals. Noun מחתה (mahta), meaning fire pan or censer.

v. 12: 15158, אהבה‎ח, "love"

v. 13: 13912, אגטאב‎‎‎‎, attaba,

at=you are a woman

ta=hired

ba=by the Lord (not to hide in fear).

v. 14: 5390, ה‎גט‎ט‎, "the ghetto". The Hebrew word for ghetto is ghet, "divorce." If we say "God is Present!" And then commit acts of apartheid of violence, it tells the world God is not here and that is blasphemy and it must be punished, its actors severely punished if not put to death. This is what the Torah says must be done for the sakes of those who want to know God. We can start with those greasy dirty Adamwaffles.

v. 15: 7782. ז‎זהב‎‎, golden.

Gold is the essence of why we work, why we make and keep beautiful things around us. It can bring out the worst in us, but for the most part, human beings work for and make beautiful things. To make a thing of beauty out of thin air using the wares civilization has brought to our doorstep is solely the providence of man, and a gift of God.

To use one's manhood to make a thing that is warped, tortured, and ugly is not Godly and we must endeavor at long last to know the difference and never forget it.

Elijah gets ready to teach this to King Ahab in an historic battle between our God and his. I can't wait to see what happens.

[midearthwritings]

I'll show you my shadows

With you by his side, there is nothing to be afraid of.

Words Count : 1,547

Pairing : Thorin x Reader

Warning : None

Author's note : We love some soft and scared Thorin. Hope you like it xx

Walking through the corridors of Rivendell, you tried to find your way back to the room that had been offered to you for the night. But everything looked the same and you were getting more lost at each turn you took. When you walked past an opening leading to some sort of balcony, you stopped. Your Hobbit friend was standing there, looking down at something.

"Bilbo!" You exclaimed, making your way up to him.

Once you were at his level, you smiled.

"I am glad to have found you, burglar."

"Ah!" He said, burrying his hands in his pockets. "Yes, yes. I am glad too."

"I couldn't find my way back to my chambers and everything looks the s-"

Foreign voices interrupted you, and your eyes fell on the garden, further down. Gandalf and Elrond were walking side by side. You looked back at Bilbo.

"Were you eavesdropping?" You asked suspiciously.

The Halfling's cheeks turned bright red and he shifted on his feet.

"N-no. I mean, not intentionally."

You shook your head and you opened your mouth to reprimand him when you heard Lord Elrond speak up. Something about a disease, and someone's grandfather.

"What are they talking about?" You questioned out loud, your eyebrows furrowing.

"The goldsickness hanging above the head of my bloodline."

Both you and the Hobbit spun around, your eyes meeting Thorin's. Respectfully, you bowed your head to the King Under the Mountain.

"Oh, ah, erm..." Bilbo stuttered. "I- I'm going to go back to.. to the... Yes."

And with that, the halfling ran away as fast as a terrified rabbit would. You sighed, turning back. You listened to Thorin's footsteps growing louder as he came up next to you.

"I didn't think you would fall as low as eavesdropping onto a private conversation." He confessed.

"It wasn't intentional." You replied, using Bilbo's earlier words.

Looking up, you took in the sight of the full moon. The night was clear and the air was fresh. Very pleasant.

"I'm sure they are mistaken." You declared. "I haven't seen you fight, but I heard stories. You will not let it have you that easily."

"Of course I won't." He snapped.

Your eyes shot down to glare at him.

"Don't take your anger out on me. I didn't do anything."

Thorin looked away and his shoulders slumped down, in shame you supposed. You hoped. After all, you hadn't done anything to deserve his anger. You let him as he gently grabbed your hand and gave it a tiny squeeze.

"You are right." He said. "My apologies."

His words dug a hole in your chest and found their home inside your heart. For anyone else, it wouldn't have been much. But you knew Thorin was bad at expressing things. And you have had never heard him utter an apology to any member of the company. Even when he was in the wrong. In a way, it wasn't fair. But on the other hand, it made you feel special.

You nodded and brushed his knuckles with your thumb before letting go of him.

"Alright, I accept your apology."

The relieved sighed that escaped his mouth was so quiet that for a second, you weren't sure it had even existed. You both looked back at the two old friends having a walk in the garden, and you silently watched as they took their leave.

"What if they are right?" Thorin asked in a murmur, his gaze still fixed where the elf and wizard used to be standing.

You turned to look at him. The soft night wind blew, making his hair dance slightly. The sadness and guilt of his eyes contrasted with the hard features of his face. You hummed pensively and looked away.

"When me and my brother were still children," you began, your eyes traveling on the delicate branches of a tree. "we used to meet with our aunt's daughters and play all day long."

"How does that have to do with my bloodline's curse?" The King interrupted in a harsh tone.

You held up your index finger, inviting him to stay quiet. The leaves wiggled gracefully as two birds bolted into the privacy of the tree.

"I remember one day, we had left the house to play in a nearby forest. After days of constant rain, the Sun was finally shining bright in the sky. And we were eager to enjoy the warmth of the wood under our palms, and our feet."

Instinctively, your left hand went to caress your right palm. You smiled softly and let out a childish chuckle.

"That day, our oldest cousin and her sister had a disagreement. I cannot recall exactly what it was about, but she pushed her. Her sister's knee was bleeding, and we couldn't make her stop crying. At that time, I have had never seen a child so hurt. And it broke my heart. That day, I promised to never induce such pain on my brother. I promised to never reproduce what she had done."

Slowly, your lips curved backwards. The silence of the night was suffocating and you were almost scared to talk again. A bird came to land close to the of both you. You watched, as the King raised his hand, making the small creature fly away. Defeated, he pulled back, as if the volatile had never been there.

"What happened next?" He asked, disturbing the heavy atmosphere.

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip. It had been long ago since your brother had forgiven you. But it had taken you loads of time, and a ton of reassurance, before you could grant yourself such a thing.

"I broke my promise." You replied. "We fought and before I could realize what was happening, I heard my hand cracking against his cheek."

You sighed and straightened up, turning to face Thorin completely. His brows were furrowed in confusion, making you laugh. His dark hair, decorated with a few grey strands, looked soft. You allowed your mind to wander, picturing your fingers traveling through his mane, imagining how it would feel.

"My apologies." He said, stirring you out of your reveries. "I still cannot see how your story has to do with mine."

Your laugh echoed in the night, once again. Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, and brought it to your lips. Locking your eyes with his, you pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

"What I am trying to tell you, Thorin Oakenshield, is that you should not be scared of being weak."

Thorin grunted, taking his hand back.

"I cannot be weak. I am a King."

Stubborn dwarf...

"Your weaknesses are part of you, my King, wether you like it or not." You whispered, offering him a smile. "No matter how much you promise yourself not to commit such and such an act, you can still slip. But it doesn't mean you're a bad person. Your weaknesses help you grow into a better, wiser, stronger being. And even if my story is different from yours, I went through something similar and it turned out okay. I am not less of a person. So do not be afraid, for there will be people to pull you back up if you fall."

Minutes passed where you stared at each other, not saying anything. The moonlight fell like gentle autumn rain on his face, illuminating his eyes. And you wondered how such precious jewels could ever be filled with things such as sadness, guilt, and anger. You wondered how they looked when the King was happy, genuinely happy. Would the corners crinkle from him smiling? Would they shine brighter than they already did?

"Will you?"

His voice startled you and you shook your head to erase the pictures your mind had painted.

"Excuse me?" You questioned.

"Will you?' Thorin repeated.

It was your turn to furrow your brows in confusion.

"Will I what, Thorin?"

The King stepped closer, and despite his slightly shorter height, his presence was intimidating.

"Will you be there to help me back on my feet if I fall?"

Your face muscles relaxed and you felt the ghost of a smile curving your lips.

"Of course, my King."

"But," he whispered, taking another step closer to you. "What if I hurt you?"

Before you could think about it, your hand found its way upwards and cupped the Dwarf's cheek. You felt him lean into your touch.

"Then, I shall have mercy and forgive you, for I have been in that place in the past." You promised.

What had felt like heavy pressure on your shoulders earlier was now gone, and the heavy atmosphere had turned into something comfortable. Thorin's beard was rough against the sensitive skin of your palm. And yet, you found yourself wanting more. All it would take was a little bravery and some boldness, to lean forward. And you would be able to find out how his facial hairs felt against your chin, as you kissed him. But that was for another time. Tonight, you had seen and touched more than you would have thought.

Two strong hands gently grabbed your waist, sending a shiver down your spine, and the King's voice rose to your ears.

"Well, with you by my side, I believe I have nothing to fear."

#the hobbit imagine #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin x y/n #thorin x you #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #gandalf #elrond #lotr #lotr imagine

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Rebecca Ferguson (DUNE): "My confidence is my power"

Who is Lady Jessica?

Rebecca Ferguson: Lady Jessica belongs to the Bene Gesserit women's organization. They are very powerful. They can manipulate minds, thoughts and connect to their ancestral history, without having access to phones or any other form of technology since they are from another world. My character's destiny is to reproduce in order to have a daughter and thus colonize other families. She rebels and creates chaos by having a boy with Duke Atreides, whom she is in love with. From that moment on, she must protect her son from the consequences that she has engineered ...

She is torn between her role as a mother and that of Bene Gesserit. How did you deal with this personal conflict?

Rebecca Ferguson: Thanks to my conversations with Denis Villeneuve. I did not immediately identify with Jessica. Without having the power of the Bene Gesserit, I was able to rely on the love I have for my children. To grasp the conflict in her, you have to understand faith. I'm not a Christian, I don't believe in any religion, but I like to hug the trees and be kind. I reached a state of mind that made me realize that belief can be as strong as love for your children. This is where Jessica's conflict arises.

It seems that you hesitated when Denis Villeneuve offered you the role because you were tired of playing strong women who know how to fight ...

Rebecca Ferguson: I'll tell you what really happened. When Denis introduced me to Jessica, he told me about her strength, her power, the fact that she is a mother, a concubine and a soldier. I was like "hey, that sounds like something I've done before ..." but I never would have turned down the part. If Denis had asked me to play a queen, I would have played a queen. It is not the extreme emotions that interests him. He wants to know how we go from one to the other, how we become imposing without having to stand on tiptoe, without barricading his emotions. How to be powerful and cry with fear? This is the real subject.

After Doctor Sleep and The Kid Who Would Be King, here you are again in the role of a witch. How do you explain that casting directors and directors see you like this?

Rebecca Ferguson: I like it. I wonder if people who say I play strong, independent, intense characters connect it to witchcraft. They were strong, weren't they? They clung to their beliefs. Strength can be compared to resistance to social norms. Besides, one should dissect the word "force" because it is a word which encompasses a lot of things. I find it in the same way as the fragility in all my characters.

Do you feel like you are being cataloged/typecast?

Rebecca Ferguson: It's also my job to bring other things. I hope that by seeing Dune, people will understand the complexity with which I played Jessica. I hope they realize how much it cost me to create vulnerability and fear in this woman and I'm not just talking about the close-ups where I cry. Finally, I hope they will understand the depth of the agony she is going through and how impacted she is by the events. There is a reversal with the character of Paul. Her child takes over. Yes, there are roles that I would like to play, but there are so many actors ... I sometimes feel like I'm being cataloged, but most of the time I mostly feel very lucky to be working . It's a balance.

What power have you developed over time?

Rebecca Ferguson: I don't know if it's a power, but I'm very raw, very honest with others. I'm not too worried about the consequences. I try to be respectful, I listen and I don't want to hurt anyone, but I'm proud to stand my ground. I'm afraid people sometimes think I'm a diva ... These are issues that I always feel like working on. On a larger scale, I would protect people if I thought they were mistreated and I would defend myself if I felt disrespected. I no longer worry if someone gets on my nerves because I stood up to them. It's okay, I'll find another movie. It is my power: to be able to trust myself, to convince myself that everything will be fine.

Denis Villeneuve is known for creating stunning visual universes. Don't we lose the magic when we play in it?

Rebecca Ferguson: Denis Villeneuve is an image artist. I see how being on the set can encroach on that magic, but the scenery and sets were so amazing ... What I see and feel as I stand on a rock in Abu Dhabi with Timothée Chalamet n ' is not what I experience when the camera moves to film me from all angles. I'm totally locked into my thinking process as Jessica at this time. I managed to separate the movie I read, the movie I shot and the movie you see. There is this shot seen from above of a hovering ship moving through shadows to the clouds. It's steampunk, cool, with something from Around the World in 80 Days. I remember thinking to myself "my God what an adventure to be a part of this!" and then "ah yes, it's true, I'm in it!" For the first time in my life, I had forgotten.

How does a young Swede who does television become a Hollywood star?

Rebecca Ferguson: I am not ambitious. In Sweden, we say elbows. I never had this urgency to become an actress. I just made up with what I was offered. My mom did a fabulous job showing me all the options available to me on a set, pushing me a little beyond my limits. I started playing and it worked. She never forced me, that was the path I had to take. Sometimes I feel like it's wrong to say that, because I know the number of people who are struggling to do this job. It is a difficult and unfair environment. I feel very lucky at the same time and I also know that I have worked very hard to make it happen.

What does it mean to you to be successful?

Rebecca Ferguson:Success is doing what you love. Our jobs become our identity, that's what we do for most of our lives. I don't like meeting people who haven't had the opportunity to have access to a job that brings them fulfillment. Too many people have no choice but to have a job that is just income. They can find success elsewhere, of course, but for me it's loving my job, being able to take my family with me on my travels ... I love my life and enjoy it.

Translated from french for @rebeccalouisaferguson​

#rebecca ferguson #interview #dune interview

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

Let Nature Take Her Course

Chapter 15: A Soul For A Soul

Summary: After facing Thanos, Juna wonders if eternity is worth it anymore.

Notes: Ok, I love Juna and I love writing for Everett Ross, but I think I need to make this one a series. So this is my last chapter update and the second story will pick up where this left off.

Thanks for understanding!

I sat at the edge of a river while the warriors of Wakanda double-checked that every last alien had been dusted. My chest still stung from using the stones, but the pain was slowly leaving. It was odd feeling pain that wasn’t connected to the earth being harmed. I guess there were pieces of me that are still human...to a degree.

My green hair and gold eyes went back to their human disguise, though I wasn’t sure as to why. What was the point now that everyone knew who I was?

The gauntlet laid at my feet with all the stones back in place, minus the Soul Stone. This one was unlike the others. Instead of a power radiating from it, I could feel...souls. Life forces. Those sacrificed before to retrieve this stone. There weren’t many - who would dare sacrifice someone they love for power? Could it truly be considered love? But there were enough in here to catch my attention. One in particular. The most recent one.

I could hear footsteps behind me and a quick glance over my shoulder told me it was King T’Challa and Steve Rogers. But I didn’t bother to get up and greet them.

Captain America cleared his throat. “We wanted to thank you. For saving the world. I know, it wasn’t for humans, but it still doesn’t change our gratitude.”

I rolled the Soul Stone in between my fingers. “I have been alive longer than anyone else. Even more so than other immortal mutants. I was referred to as the Mother of Mutants since I’m extremely sure I was the first. And I have a bit of every mutant’s mutations. Sure, my main powers regard the earth. But I can slightly change the appearance of my face - which made it harder for you all to find me. Now there is a mutant that can change her whole body. I can fly and now mutants can do so with or without wings. I can control the weather and now Ororo is an omega-level mutant with goddess-level powers over the weather. Bits and pieces of what I can do made their way into humanity through my connection with them. I didn’t have to physically have my own children. They were all my children.”

The two men stood in silence as my words flowed.

“My other child was the planet. And you always want the best for your children. Which were not humans.” I sighed, “but just because you think it’s what is best, doesn’t mean the children will agree. And maybe that’s part of the reason why I couldn’t have kids. That and I live forever so what’s the biological point of reproducing.”

T’Challa slowly came over and sat next to me on the river’s edge.

“So I’ll do what I was born to do. I’ll protect the earth. And just like always, I’ll take humanity’s misguided thanks when really they should be asking themselves: why? Why did we have to rely on a mutant to fix our problems? How can we help? I am so old and I have seen things that would drive others mad. And perhaps I am. But there’s nothing I can do. I can’t die. And when the earth hurts, I hurt with her.”

They were both quiet for the longest time before Steve spoke up. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. Clearly, I can’t apologize for all humanity, but I can for myself. You wouldn’t need to go to extremes if humans would just take responsibility. So please, tell me how I can help. How the Avengers can help.”

“You could destroy plants destroying the planet with their emissions.”

“We could get arrested for that.”

I smirked. “But I can’t be. I’ve got a plan, but it’ll mean your team will have to turn a blind eye.”

Looking over my shoulder at the Avenger, I could see he was struggling with what I was suggesting. Finally, “only if you promise no one else gets hurt.”

“Only if they attack me first.”

“Deal,” he held out his hand to make it official.

Before I could stand up and shake his hand, an electric humming filled the air and I was instantly on my guard. But once I saw the portal was orange instead of blue, I relaxed. Never mind that I had all the stones with me.

A tall man in Master of the Mystic arts clothes and a cloak walked through, followed by an odd group of people. Some clearly aliens. I raised an eyebrow at the entrance and the man just gave me a tiny smile.

“It’s a long story.”

“Clearly. You must be Dr. Strange.”

“Let me guess, Wong?”

“Of course. I’ve known him and the Ancient One for many years. I’m Mother Nature.”

Recognition filled his face. “Ah, yes. I remember reading about you in one of the many tomes in the library.”

“Only one tome?” I laughed. “Kinda surprised. Though, I guess it’s not just earth your group has to worry about.”

One of the humans that had passed through the portal with Strange looked very distraught. The other aliens were trying to comfort him but all he would do is mutter about killing Thanos.

“What’s with him?”

Tony Stark slowly came over, clutching a semi-healed wound on his side. “Thanos killed his girlfriend.”

“Stark, you are deeply injured,” T’Challa was at his side in a moment. “We must get you to my sister. She can heal you.”

“No,” I came to stand next to the men. “I’ll heal him.”

Tony eyed me but didn’t move. “Not that I wouldn’t be grateful, but why the sudden change of heart towards humans?”

“No change of heart, per se, just…” sighing, I gave a tired smirk. “I just took a lightning bolt to the heart so I could power the Infinity Stones and stop a mad Titan from destroying the ecosystem of every planet in the system. Eternity is not it’s cracked up to be when you have to do things like that. Your kind may destroy the earth, but I’ll outlive you all and can just fix it then.”

“Comforting,” Stark sassed.

I shrugged as I placed my hand on his wound. “It’s not like I can change things. I didn’t get to choose immortality and I can’t give it away. Time...time can be a funny thing after a while. It’s not what it takes from you. It’s what it leaves behind. The memory of the stones coursing through my system will be with me until the end of my life. Which will be when the earth dies.”

Warmth poured out of my hand and into his side, mending the wound. When I was done, Stark pulled up his shirt to double-check.

“Wow. Efficient.”

“Thank you.”

The sound of a hover jet caught our attention and we turned to see Shuri and Everett exit the plane, Shuri running off to help anyone that may have been injured. Everett slowly approached us.

“How is Vision?” I questioned.

“Better,” came a reply behind Everett. Wanda and Vision were exiting the jet as well. “I figured I would give myself time to adjust without the stone before I flew again.”

“Good call. I’m glad they were able to get the stone out in time.”

“All thanks to you,” Wanda was teary-eyed as she looked up at Vision. “I don’t know what I would have done if Vis hadn’t made it.”

I sighed. “I would love to say it’s was for selfless reasons, but everyone knows that isn’t true.”

“It is,” Everett chimed in. “You didn’t do it for yourself. You did it to save the earth. Everything you’ve ever done was to save the earth.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t make me into the hero, Agent Ross. No one will buy it.”

“I would,” Steve responded.

“So would I,” T’Challa pipped up.

“As would we,” Vision looked down at Wanda.

“Even though I was going to kill you all? You all certainly have odd moral compasses.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Tony snarked. “We’re trying to say thank you.”

“Don’t. I didn’t earn it.” I looked down at the Soul Stone still in my hand. “Not yet, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Everett had a look of concern on his face.

“A soul for a soul. An everlasting exchange. I’ve never personally tried to get all the stones, but anyone over five thousand years old has heard the tale of how to obtain this particular stone. That those sacrificed can never come back.” I looked up at the human that had been muttering about killing Thanos now on the ground crying. “But it’s there. Right in the lore. A soul for a soul.”

“What are you going to do?”

Instead of answering, I took the stone and waded out into the river. Farther and farther I walked until the water came up to my chest. I held the stone tightly in my left hand and placed my right palm down on the water’s surface. A long-forgotten language flowed from my mouth as I called out to the universe. I had absolutely no idea if this would work, but I had to try. Using the stones made me realize I couldn’t continue on my path, or I would become as bad as Thanos. And there was only one way to solve that issue.

Dark clouds gathered as the water began to churn. The wind picked up and lightning could be seen in the air. I lifted my left hand high and my arm burst into flames, dancing around the stone. The elements became wilder and wilder and I forced a boundary to protect those at the river’s bank. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning hit the stone and the area was filled with a blinding bright light.

As everything returned to normal, I felt a weight in my right hand. To my amazement, everything worked. I put the stone in my pocket and picked the body up out of the river. There was violent coughing coming from her face as she surfaced out of the water, red hair plastered to her green skin. She was the one the human had lost. I couldn’t bring everyone in the Stone back, but I could start with this one.

I turned back to everyone and carried her ashore. Setting her gently on the ground, I made sure she was breathing before allowing her to sit up.

“Where am I?” She croaked.

“Earth.”

“But, I was on Vormir. Thanos…”

I rubbed her back, “I know. I brought you back.”

“How?”

But before I could answer, the human came running over. “GAMAORA?!”

“Peter?! Oh my god, Peter!” I watched as the two embraced in a crushing hug before climbing to my feet.

The rest of their party raced over and formed a giant group hug. Everett came up beside me.

“She was sacrificed for the stone?”

I nodded.

“But...how did you bring her back?”

I pulled the stone out of my pocket. “A soul for a soul. An everlasting exchange. And that’s what I did. I gave it my life for hers. I’m mortal now.”

Nature Will Heal (Upcoming)

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@marvelfansworld​

@that-chick212​

@keetnerj01​

Let Nature Take Her Course

@dversstark​

@maddiestundentwritergaines​

#fanfic #fan fic #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #let nature take her course #everett ross #everett ross x original female character #original female character #angst #when the world is broken

[anncanta]

The imagery of BBC ‘Dracula’: mythology, alchemy, literature

The more I watch the BBC and Netflix Dracula, the more interesting details and nuances I notice. And now they have formed a new picture, which I would like to share with you.

For the convenience of consideration and analysis, I propose to divide the images and symbols used in Dracula into several large groups.

The first group is mythological images and symbols. This is the most archaic metaphor, and for this story, it has enormous significance. On it, as on a foundation, the entire basic narrative of the film is built.

The second group is alchemical images. They represent the plot, semantic level at which events unfold. It is here the very ‘metaphysical detective story’ arises and develops, which some viewers and critics talk about, reflecting on the genre nature of the film.

And finally, the third – the group of the ‘youngest’ – images of literature. It is a kind of crystal lattice, a narrative framework that holds the whole structure. Without a mythological level, the story will not have a basic ‘leaven’, matter, in the original meaning ‘mother’, ‘material’, in the sense of ‘body’, ‘flesh’, ‘reality’. Without the alchemical one, it would lack the drama, in the meaning of the unfolding process – from the appearance of this very matter in the crucible to the creation of the philosopher's stone. And the level of literature allows you to reflect on this process and make it conscious, appropriating it as a part of psychological reality.

Let's consider each of these levels sequentially and try to see how they relate to each other and what context they all create together.

Mythology

We start with mythology, not only because it is a basic level, but also because the very structure of Dracula inclines to it. The story, which began in a Transylvanian castle, grows from a completely mythological, archaic root, develops as a half-tale detective drama, and ends in the genre of a modern psychological novel. Yes, with elements of a fairy tale and mysticism, but it is based (in the third episode) on a modern novelistic narrative.

In the first episode, we have a gothic tale based on myth and legends so old that, probably, no one can reliably determine their age. And just as old are the images that this myth uses.

We will not consider every single one of them – this would take much more time and space than this article suggests – we will focus only on the main ones.

There are several of them. Forest, castle, mirror, needle, sun.

Forest

A forest as an image and symbol in mythology means a place that belongs to another world. In contrast to the rational and ordered world of everyday reality known to us, it represents the mysterious, incomprehensible, enigmatic, strange, confusing, irrational.

Even before we meet with Dracula, before the very beginning of the story arises, together with Jonathan Harker we find ourselves in the forest – being left there. This is very important, since it draws a line between the everyday world from which Jonathan comes and the magical world, immediately involving the viewer and the character in the initiation situation. Let us recall the fairy tales describing pictures of the same series: a stepdaughter sent by her stepmother into the forest for snowdrops in the middle of winter, children whom their parents took to the forest and thrown there, a hero forced to travel through the forest in order to achieve the desired goal.

It is worth noting here that Jonathan, as a normal child of the rational nineteenth century, at first does not perceive what is happening to him like something out of the ordinary. The forest does not seem scary to him, he sees no problem in getting out of the carriage, knee-deep in the snow among the trees, waiting for the Count's driver. It seems uncomfortable to him, that's all. And only the persistence of the girl convincing Jonathan to take the crucifix causes something like a vague alarm.

This behavior of Jonathan is both a tribute to the literary basis – B. Stoker's novel, written in an era when rationality and the power of reason were valued higher than magic and miracles (pushed aside by the collective psyche into the field of ‘peasant tales’ and superstitions), and typical for such story is the position of a hero who is not aware of the seriousness of the situation in which he found himself.

But back to the forest.

The space of the forest in fairy tales and myths can appear as a transitional one – a gateway to another world, a path to an antagonist (an evil sorcerer, an ancient scary creature, a dark king), or as an endpoint, where transformation takes place.

In our case, the forest is a path, a kind of bridge connecting Jonathan's past with his future.

Like most heroes, Harker took this path, not of his own free will (the owner of the company sent him to make a deal with Dracula in Transylvania), and in order to pass through it and at least get to the castle, Jonathan needs someone else – someone to guide and push him.

At this point, along with the Count's charioteer, one of the most famous devices in British literature appears in the text – a literalized metaphor. ‘Driver’ not only means a chauffeur. It is also an engine that makes something or someone work, move forward.

A roll call with this scene and repeated mentions in the first episode of the word ‘driver’ a dialogue between Dracula and Zoe in the third one sounds: ‘You`re fast, you`re clever. Driven. But driven by what?’. ‘Driven’ here means ‘motivated’, ‘carried away’, ‘captured’.

Unlike Zoe, Jonathan is not captured by anything. He simply travels by the direction of his employer to Transylvania to do his duty. By the way, pay attention, the driver delivers Jonathan to the castle but refuses to help him further. The driver`s function is now exhausted.

At the same time, already by the movement of Jonathan through the forest, one can understand that not just an adventure awaits the character, but an adventure in a fairy-tale sense.

Remember how he rides in the carriage, reading the letter of his beloved, and how her image appears with a golden reflection above the trees, reviving and warming Johnny's soul and the winter forest frozen under the snow. In the letter, Mina lists all their friends and acquaintances, assures Jonathan of her love, and expresses the hope that her feelings are mutual. Thus, we see a person who enters the space of initiation, accompanied by the feminine side of his soul, and, stopping at the threshold, internally goes over his thoughts and feelings, considering his past life. That is why he needs a path through the forest. For this, he was left in the glade and made to wait for the charioteer. This is where the place of altered consciousness begins. And here completely different rules apply, not those that work in the ordinary world.

Castle

Unlike the forest, which represents the space of a natural, uncontrollable, and absolutely irrational element, the castle is the creation of a human. Moreover, as we know from the words of Dracula, in this case, it is the creation of a brilliant artist, and it has two very specific meanings, directly stated in the text: a monument to lost love and prison without locks.

Specified at the very beginning, these two values ​​immediately set the coordinate system in which the story of Dracula and Jonathan will unfold.

That's right – the story of Dracula and Jonathan, I did not make a reservation. Those who see a romantic line in their interaction are right. Another thing is that this romantic line, like everything in this film, differs from the love stories we are used to and sets completely different goals and objectives for the characters.

Look, what we have here? An ancient castle in which a mysterious Count lives, who looks like a barely breathing old man, and in which some strange creatures also live, seemingly in need of help. I have already spoken about the meaning of these images in the article ‘Dracula BBC as an alchemical novel’, and those who wish can refer to it for details. For this one, something else is important.

Why didn't Jonathan leave? Clearly, he got lost in the castle, the castle is arranged like a labyrinth, moreover, the night creatures wandering along the corridors were clearly teasing and confusing Harker, forcing him to plunge deeper and deeper into the bowels of the ancient structure and his own altered consciousness.

And this is the most important thing. When Agatha tells Jonathan that he is an extremely brave man, it is not only about the fact that he remained in a castle full of dangers, because he knew that there was someone who was begging him for help, but also that Jonathan had the courage to remain in the sealed reality of the castle, alone with his fears.

It is what allows him to stay alive for so long, what does not allow him to surrender, what arouses Dracula's interest and creates this strange tension between them, poorly understanding one another, but intuitively reaching out to each other.

This is not about romantic love, not about desire as such – Jonathan loves Mina, and no one is able to take her place in his heart – and Dracula still does not understand at all what it means to love. This is different. In a certain, almost inconceivable way, the deeper Jonathan goes into the castle, the lower he descends and the less physical strength he has, the more stubborn and bright his spirit becomes. At the level of the image, this at some point is shown literally, almost head-on – remember the scene after the attack of the vampire girl in the basement, when Jonathan wakes up. His face and figure, his entire appearance almost literally reproduce the image from the painting The body of the dead Christ in the tomb

by Hans Holbein the Younger (according to legend, by the way, the model for body of Jesus, painted on it, was the body of a drowned man found in the Rhine). In this episode, the story openly shows us what Johnny is for – given everything we've seen so far and the structure of the text. Jonathan went downstairs to the hell arranged by Dracula in his basement (inside the Count himself), faced a lost soul there, died, and returned to life.

It was not in vain that Dracula begged Jonathan to stay. Johnny is his guide, his key to life, to real life, and not to the one that the Count lived all this time, hiding in a castle and feeding on scraps of other people's stories. Inside this dark reality, Jonathan is a light that dies and is born to give new life. This is the mythological side of his role in the life of Dracula, and such is it when viewed from the side of the Count.

And this is where some completely incredible thing begins. A vampire who lives in darkness and must love darkness, who almost killed Jonathan and, according to Harker himself, took everything from him, takes him in his arms, and carries him upstairs.

They had just been in hell, at the lowest point, in death itself, or, rather, in a nightmare about it shared by two – do you think that Dracula is the only one here who is afraid of death? They fought and tortured each other, and reached the limit. And from there, below, there was only one way.

I don't think Dracula knows what he is doing when he carries Johnny to the roof. But the fact remains – they end up there, and the Count practically asks Jonathan to be his eyes and tell him what the sun looks like. This scene, both dramatic and ironic, plays with all shades of thoughts and feelings, and in it the emphasis shifts again, and Jonathan becomes the leader.

In this episode, the visual component is extremely important. Downstairs in the basement, Jonathan was in the form of the dead Christ, the sacrifice made, tortured and betrayed, forsaken and trampled. On the roof of the castle, at its highest point, rising and refusing to serve Dracula, refusing to be his puppet, standing on the parapet facing him, ready to jump, in the rays of the sun, he looks like an image (literally – an icon) of a savior in the light of glory.

The gold mark from the cross reflecting the sun is not a striking mark, but a hand placed on the forehead. Only Dracula doesn't know it yet.

But they have already passed this part of the way.

Part 2.

#dracula 2020 #bbc dracula #meta #mythology #jonathan harker

[the-shy-shrimp]

Well, hello! I am one of your readers from the AO3 and I just wanted to say that I enjoy your lotr related works very much! And since you allow asking for commission, there is one thing I would love to see if you ever felt inspired and that is Elrond Peredhel being hurt in a fight.

Adding in the rest of the ask because this came to me in three parts:

It seems that since he is a healer in most stories it is quite rare for him to get physically hurt – which is understandable of course... But I would love to see that written by you, as you are quite good at portraying this amazing hurt/comfort stories.

The floor is all yours, but maybe it would be nice to see how his family would react to that? Or any Imladris inhabitants. But you know, it’s just an idea, no pressure. Thank you very much! And whether you decide to use this idea or not I hope we will meet in some lotr-related work. Have a nice day! :D (And sorry for sending three asks - I am not used to Tumblr :c)

So here you go! Sorry it took forever, but I made a bad decision (very, very bad) when scheduling an exam that my entire career relied on me passing, so I was pretty brain dead for the two weeks after I got this ask... But here it is! Enjoy!

...

Pain is the first thing that registers when Elrond wakes, pain and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from fighting for one’s life.

Strange, he can’t remember being in a fight, not recently. Yet here he lays, sprawled out on the floor of his study, exhausted and aching for no clear reason. Attempting to move proves to be unwise, bringing dizziness and nausea with each shift, but the alternative of lying prone until someone finds him seems even more unsavory.

He goes slowly, first turning onto his side as he tries to deduce what has happened. His face and his jaw hurt the most by far, though the rest of his body is not far behind. But his jaw had been tightly clenched for several days now, likely the result of stressing over his third child’s imminent arrival, and so he finds it difficult to relate that symptom with the rest of what he feels. His hands wander over his body in a search for injuries. While he does not discover anything new, he does find his shoulder to be red and hot, the small puncture wound he sustained in a skirmish over a week ago now open and weeping. He groans internally at the finding.

It should have healed long before now, and that knowledge fills his gut with dread. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

The simple act of using the corner of his desk to pull himself upright leaves him shaking, and the idea of forcing himself to walk down the hallway to find Erestor is daunting to say the least. But it must be done. He presses onward, putting one foot in front of the other, desperately clutching whatever furniture seems sturdy enough to lend some support as he shuffles toward the door. Once out in the corridor there would be little to hold onto, unfortunately, but it was only a few yards between the doors to each of their workspaces. He would have to manage.

After fumbling with the doorknob for a moment, he breathes a sigh of relief upon finding the hallway to be entirely empty. The last thing he needs to be gawked at in his present state.

His movements are slow, but determined, as he makes his way along the wall, eventually coming to a stop in front of Erestor’s door. He attempts to knock before entering, but the sound is weak and piteous, barely heard over the sound of his own breathing. He has better luck with the doorknob this time around, and with minimal struggling, he tentatively steps into his friend’s space.

“Elrond? Is something the matter? You don’t look well.”

Erestor is at his desk, several papers in his hands and concern written across his face. He seems to be debating between getting up to rush over, and letting Elrond speak first.

The Peredhel swallows thickly, then gives an almost imperceptible nod, taking one, then two steps beyond the doorway. When he opens his mouth to speak, however, the ache that had thus far been sitting quietly in his jaw crescendos into a roar that races down his neck and back and into each of his limbs as pain engulfs his entire body.

A strangled cry is the only sound he makes, and Erestor’s cursing is the last thing he hears before the world goes dark.

-

“You really are the worst, you know.”

Erestor’s chiding is soft, lacking its usual barbed timbre, and is accompanied by the warm weight of a thick blanket settling over his body. The Peredhel gives him only a quiet sigh in return, blinking until the image of his friend comes into focus. He is not sprawled across the floor of Erestor’s office, as he halfway expected to be, but is instead tucked into a cot in the middle of an unfortunately familiar room. He groans, feeling even worse now than he did before, every muscle in his body wound tight as a bowstring, unable to relax no matter how much he ached.

It doesn’t take more than a minute before Elrond decides that he does not like being the one in the sickbed, and much prefers to stay within his role as a healer.

“Why didn’t you have the wound looked at when you returned? If one of your sons had pulled the same stunt you would have had their head on a platter.”

He can see the poorly veiled concern in Erestor’s expression, creeping through every time Elrond fails to suppress the violent shivers that come in waves almost too intense to bear.

“T-T-T’was only an, an, arrow…”

His voice is weaker, shakier than he would like it to be, stuttering as he tries to keep the shuddering at bay. His advisor only scowls down at him, looking more hurt than angry.

“Yes, only an arrow with a rusted head. If you were fully elven you might have been able to ignore such a detail, but you aren’t, Elrond! Now the poison is already in your blood, and it might just kill you. Andûnél says that it probably won’t, but there is still a chance.”

“I’m s-sure I’ll, I’ll be f-f-fine.”

Erestor leaps to his feet at that, sending the stool he had previously occupied flying back to clatter against the floor.

“Fine? You think this is fine? You cannot take risks with your life like this! What if you don’t make it, hm? Everyone in this valley depends on you, son of Eärendil. Your family depends on you. What if this is what does it? Would you leave your children to grow up fatherless, leave your people leaderless? You are all we have left, Elrond. They don’t have a high king to follow anymore, no one is going to step in and take care of things if you perish.”

He turns on his heel, disgust written on his face as he slams the door shut behind him.

Silence descends on the tiny room, and Elrond finds himself whimpering as the next wave of shivering hits him full force. He knows he isn’t alone, not truly. Someone will be around to check on him eventually. But for the moment he cannot help but feel abandoned. He wants Erestor to come back, but he will need time to sulk. He wants Celebrían, but he knows she won’t be back in Imladris for another week. Perhaps shamefully, he finds he wants Maglor most of all.

Maglor who had done his best in spite of circumstance, who made sure their needs were provided for. Maglor who held him when the tears didn’t seem to have an end. Maglor who sat with him late in the night when sleep wouldn’t come because of nightmares or insomnia or the disturbances that had come when his foresight finally began to manifest. Maglor who was the closest thing to a father he had ever really had.

It wasn’t until Andûnél knocked and entered that he realized there were tears in his eyes.

“Now, now, none of that.”

She sighs softly and dabs at the wet spots on his cheeks before anything else. He is grateful for the way her touches are nothing short of professional, devoid of the almost motherly tenderness they held when he and Elros were just young things being brought to her with scraped knees and sprains and broken bones. He already feels small and broken enough without being coddled.

Was it because Erestor had yelled at him? Probably. Being reminded of everything, everyone, that relied on him had left him feeling grossly inadequate. There was no high king. No one was around to supervise him and yank him out of his stupidity anymore. Ereinion couldn’t come to his rescue. Galadriel might, but not because she actually cared for him. She would come out of responsibility, and likely regret allowing her daughter to marry him as a result. Just a stupid, half-blooded fool who managed to survive long enough to reproduce in spite of his own idiocy—

“Elrond? Look at me, Elrond.”

He hiccups twice while trying to blink away the tears, and it takes several more minutes of dabbing at his eyes before he can actually see her face as more than just a wet blur.

“That’s better. Now, are you weeping because you are in pain, or because you are upset?”

“Pain.”

The single syllable is rasped out, barely louder than a whisper. The look in her eyes tells him that she knows he is lying, or at least telling only half the truth. Maybe the pain was a part of it, but Andûnél clearly knew it was just as likely a combination of the two.

“Alright. I can do something about that, at least.”

She leaves his line of sight immediately. If his neck didn’t ache so badly he might have tried to watch her, but he could barely move at all with how tense he was. He settles for staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly. At least he could hear her moving about the room, and so he knew she hadn’t left him. Not like Erestor had.

Another whine escapes him at the thought.

“Hold on, I’m coming.”

He doesn’t get the chance to feel any more sorry for himself before she pries his lips apart and sticks a dropper full of bitter medicine in his mouth. It tastes foul, as all her tinctures do, but it works quickly, dulling the ache in a matter of only a few tense minutes, and for that he is grateful.

“Better?”

“Better.”

Elrond sighs, relaxing against the bed beneath him as the pain is driven back for the moment. He hadn’t noticed just how much the tension in his body was bothering him a moment ago, but with it now under control, its absence leaves him feeling weak and jittery.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do outside of managing the pain that comes with the muscle spasms.”

Andûnél’s voice feels far away, even if vaguely registers that she now sits beside him in the stool Erestor had previously discarded. She smiles down at him, looking tired above all else.

“There isn’t an antidote or any effective treatment for it. You’ll just have to wait it out until your body rids itself of the toxin.”

The idea sits poorly with him, although there isn’t anything he can do to change things, not now. The healer is quick to remind him, of course, that had he gotten the wound treated sooner, properly cleaned and bandaged as it should have been, he might have avoided this unpleasantness altogether. She says he ought to know better, and he knows she is right. But she takes his silence as exhaustion rather than the moping that it is, and mutters something about the two of them being the sole purpose someone came up with the adage that “healers make the worst patients” before tucking another blanket around him and getting up to leave.

“I will send Camaenor in to sit with you while I take care of some other things that need my attention. He will probably be so engrossed in whatever book he brings with him that you’ll hardly notice him, but at least he’ll be present if you need him.”

Elrond is asleep not long after Andûnél latches the door behind her, snatching up what sleep he can while he has the option. He’s seen this sickness before, in mortals wounded by pieces of old metal, and he knows that it is likely to get worse before it gets better.

When it does get worse, either Andûnél or her reedy apprentice are always present, ready and waiting with another draught for the pain and muscle spasms that make his limbs cramp and his back arch off the bed. The Peredhel is grateful that it is only the two of them who see him like this. Not that he doesn’t trust the discretion of the other healers, but he knows that Andûnél will not gossip, and Camaenor has been so absorbed in his studies that he is likely to follow his master’s trend.

The days all blend together, a cycle of sleeping until he is awoken by excruciating pain and downing more medicine until he can once again rest comfortably. More than once he wakes in the dead of night, due not to the constant muscle contractions, but instead because the apprentice perched nearby is struggling with his reading, stumbling over some new term or another and attempting to sound it out.

The first time this happens, it leaves Elrond confused and disoriented, wondering if the apprentice is trying to speak to him and his brain is simply failing to interpret the words. Eventually though, after hearing several similar sounding terms in a row, he realizes what is happening, and rasps out an answer.

“Parenchyma.”

Camaenor nearly jumps out of his skin when his charge suddenly speaks, but quickly recovers and nods his thanks before asking if he would like some water, or if he was in pain. Elrond decides then that the boy will make a good healer, someday, and resolves to help him study during his precious moments of wakefulness and clarity. It is the least he can do.

He loses track of how many days and nights he’s been bedridden, knowing only that it has been long enough for him to grow tired of it. The only break in routine comes when Erestor returns to his previous position, constructing a nest of bookwork at Elrond’s bedside to keep himself busy while he sits with him. He says nothing of the outburst that resulted in his several-days-long absence, but instead chatters on about all the things going on in the valley that he’s missed since this all started. Profit margins for new trade routes. Personal correspondences that need attention. Setbacks in planting a new section of the orchard.

His chief advisor says nothing of Celebrían’s whereabouts, and so he assumes that she has either not been informed of his current state or has chosen to remain with her parents until this has all blown over. Part of him hopes for the former. This pregnancy has already been hard enough for her, and it has only just begun. She doesn’t need the added stress.

It comes as a surprise, then, when the soft morning light brings him toward wakefulness and he is assailed not by the whole-body ache he has come to expect, but by the soft velvet of her lips on his. He sighs, thinking it must only be the remnants of some very pleasant dream, but the gentle brush of her fingertips over his eyelids tells him otherwise.

“Wake up, my love.”

A weak smile finds its way to his face, the first in days, as he slowly pries his eyes open. His silver queen is waiting for him, her soft expression framed by the wild platinum curls of her unbound hair. She kisses him again, more fiercely this time, and though his attempts at reciprocating are sloppy at best, it still fills his heart with joy.

They still cling to each other, even after Celebrían finally stops nibbling at his lower lip and stretches out on the bed beside her husband. Neither of them says a word about what happened, about what Elrond has suffered through in the past week, or about the fact that they are celebrating their reunion here instead of the quiet intimacy of their bedroom. None of it matters, though, at least not to the Peredhel.

The presence of his beloved is like a balm on his aching soul, and in her strong arms he is reminded of what it feels like to belong and be loved. He sighs, burying his nose in the tangled nest of her hair and breathing in the scent that is undeniably hers, causing her to giggle and throw her arm over his bared chest and drag him closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

#fanfic #lord of the rings #requests are open #If you want one I'll make u one #just ask #I swear I'm not dead

[megalony]

The King’s heir

This is a new King! Ben Hardy series I am going to be working on which I hope everyone is going to like. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog​

Ben Hardy masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) wants to have a child and it is expected of Ben to have an heir to the throne, but Ben doesn't want a child. He has a genetic disorder that impacts his everyday life which he's afraid will be passed down to his child.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You stupid boy, what are you trying to do? They are your council, your advisers, you can't say something like that and just walk out!" The words were spat from his lips like they were a vile taste on his tongue that he wanted rid of. There was a burning passion of fire in his eyes that was directed onto his son who he was almost running after down the long corridor.

The polished floor provided the right surface to pronounce the clicking of boot heels that sounded furious and fast-paced and gave the impression that they were about to break the floor beneath them.

When those words reached his ears, the blond felt the way his boots skidded against the polished floor to come to a sudden halt. His blood was beginning to boil like it was burning on high heat and he couldn't stop the way that his upper lip curled in distaste. When he turned around to face his father, his back clicked into place as it straightened out and his shoulders seemed to extend and push back in some sort of defence. His height towered over his father and his hands curled into fists at his sides like he was tempted by the idea of using them to get his point across.

"You forget who you're talking to." Ben's voice was dripping with venom in such a low tone that his father had never heard before. "They are my council, my advisers and they run on my authority and I will not have the likes of them or you telling me what I should do with my life. They are there to advise on my ruling as King and that matter does not come under my proficiency as ruler. Do not speak out of term to me again."

Ben could see the way that his words were like fuel to the flame and he knew how they infuriated his father because Ben held the highest authority and the higher power out of them both. He held more power than anyone in the country and that was something his father didn't like.

Family didn't come into this matter, Ben wouldn't have anyone speaking out of term like that to him and he certainly wasn't letting his father get away with it when he had tried to gain power over Ben in the meeting they just had. He wasn't allowing someone else to gain the upper hand on him like that when they held no right whatsoever.

"I'm afraid, my Lord, that this matter is one that comes under both your life and your reign. You'd do good to remember that."

"And I think you'll find it good to remember that after ten years on this throne you've never held the power to influence my actions and none of your advisers have controlled me. You won't succeed in undermining me now leave." Irritation rattled through Ben's body when he felt his father's presence like a constant shadow following him wherever the sun may shine.

When Ben forced open the doors to the drawing room and walked in like a man on a mission, his ever faithful shadow followed in suit and quickly ordered the maid and two guards to leave the room like he himself was the King instead of Ben. A look of concern washed over (Y/n)'s face when she caught sight of her husband and father-in-law who both looked like they were about to explode. It was normal for (Y/n) to witness their brawls and arguments but never had she seen them both look at each other with mutual hatred before.

"There's your wife, tell her what you did and maybe see if she can change your stubborn mind." When he waved his arm out in (Y/n)'s direction Ben reached over and forcefully pushed his arm down like he was trying to break it off.

"Don't point at my wife like that who- if you've forgotten, you didn't want me to marry in the first place. Don't bring her into this just because you're fighting a losing battle." Ben snapped when he roughly let go of his father's arm, there was no need for him to be rude and objectify (Y/n) like that.

Leaning her head on her hand, (Y/n) crossed one leg over the other as she waited for them to calm down. They certainly looked like little boys who were fighting over the same toy and this same record could get awfully annoying after listening to it for days on end. She didn't know what they were fighting about this time but she could wager a guess that it wasn't anything that warranted such an argument. If she was being brought into this then (Y/n) knew it had to be something they both thought strongly about.

Ben's father liked (Y/n) enough but he had been off with her in the first two months of her and Ben's marriage because she wasn't a Queen or a princess. She was of high status but not high enough to marry a King, Ben's father thought. But with the kind of person Ben was, being stubborn, his own person and rather spiteful at times, he didn't batter one eyelid when his father told him not to (or more that he wasn't permitted to) marry (Y/n). Ben loved her and so he would do as he pleased, just like he had always done.

"What are you going on about now?" (Y/n) broke the argument to voice her question but she could see in the look Ben gave her that he didn't want her input on this. Either he thought it wasn't worth it or he thought she wouldn't be on his side in this battle.

"His highness here just walked out of a meeting that wasn't finished after declaring that he wasn't going to produce an heir to the throne and he didn't care who took the throne after him. Now the council is in debate about what to do and they aren't friendly with him now either. Well done, son, truly."

Ben pursed his lips as his head leaned to the side when his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s and he noticed the emotions swirling around in her pupils. He didn't want this argument with (Y/n) but he'd just brought it upon himself by letting his father tell her what had happened. Breaking their gaze, Ben turned around so he was facing his father and walked daringly over to him until there was almost no space between them.

"If I don't want children it's because of what you caused so you can blame yourself for that one. Now get out." Reaching his hand out, Ben pushed his father backwards but one push almost made the older man fall onto the floor with the force Ben held within him. He clenched his hands into fists but didn't manage to strike when (Y/n) wrapped herself around his arm and pulled him backwards.

"Don't hurt yourself, I'm not dragging you back upstairs again now calm down." (Y/n) kept hold of Ben until his father left the room, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as the door was closed (Y/n) let go of Ben and moved so she was standing in front of him, her arms folded over her chest as a look of betrayal crossed her face which made Ben feel guilty. (Y/n) was the only person whose opinion meant something to Ben, he valued her input more than anyone on his own council who he had known for a decade and that meant something. He loved her, he didn't want to hurt her or cause her any pain but he knew his words would break her.

"Why would you do that?"

"(Y/n) don't look at me like that-"

"Then don't go and make statements like that without telling me or making my views clear on the matter. Ben you can't do that, you can't say shit like that to spite the council no matter if you don't like them or not." (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair, catching her nails in a few knots that she couldn't be bothered to unravel right now.

"I didn't say it to spite anyone, I said it because it's true. You knew before you married me that I don't want a child and I won't have them trying to tell me that it's my duty. This throne will go to whoever is next in line, I don't have to create someone to stick in that throne it is not my duty." Ben tried to keep his voice level but the more he spoke, the more power he felt behind each word and the more desperate he became to get someone to understand.

Only a small handful of people knew the reason Ben didn't want a child but it infuriated him to have people tell him it was his duty. Not every King or Queen had children and some of them even decided not to as opposed to not being able to reproduce. Ben didn't want a child and he would not be told by stuck up, inferior men that it was what he was here for. Ben was the King and he was doing a damn good job at ruling the country but he didn't have to give them an heir, it didn't matter whether he had a child or not because it was his and (Y/n)'s business, not anyone else's.

"No, Ben, it's not that you don't want a child it's that your afraid and I understand. Go ahead and tell the council it isn't your job to give them a new King or Queen I understand that but don't tell them we're definitely not having a child because you've made that decision without me."

(Y/n) shook her head at her husband before attempting to walk away but she didn't get very far before Ben's hand was curled around her upper arm, pulling her into his chest.

"I got angry and I said something I shouldn't, I'm sorry. But I'll admit to you that I don't think a child is something I want. You've seen the way I have to live and what this does to me (Y/n), you can't tell me you want to burden a baby with this the way I was?" Ben may have got carried away but his point was still valid and they both knew it. He has reasons for saying what he did and he wasn't going to ignore them or act like he never said them because he did and it was important.

A sigh escaped (Y/n)'s lips before she slowly turned around so she was properly facing Ben. She reached up to caress the side of his face, her eyes meeting his own when he leaned into the touch.

"But they might not have it, Ben. And even if they did, what does it matter? It's not life threatening and we can get them through it just like we are doing with you." (Y/n) brushed her thumb over Ben's cheek, knowing she sounded like she was becoming desperate and maybe she was, but with good reason. (Y/n) wanted a baby, she really wanted a baby and she wanted one with Ben. She loved him and they were married, this was the next step but Ben was holding back because of a worry that might not happen. But even if his worry came true, they could get through it.

"Sweetheart, we have a fifty percent chance of me giving my disorder to them, that's a rather big gamble to take. If I can't handle this, how can you expect a child to get through it? This lasts a lifetime-"

"Your parents made that choice and yes, maybe it didn't work for them but it might work for us. They had you, that's a pretty big positive despite what you have to go through."

A growl formed at the back of Ben's throat as he shook his head before leaning down to rest his temple against hers. Ben loved every inch of (Y/n) and he knew what having a baby meant to her, he really did and the thought of having a baby with her was like a dream, but that was all Ben was allowing it to be. A dream. If Ben went along with this he was taking the chance of giving his child a disorder that lasted a lifetime and came with more pain that it was worth.

Ben went through struggles every day because of his disorder that was almost immobilising, he couldn't put that onto a child when he knew what it was like to grow up with it himself. His parents took a chance and they won and lost because Ben was here, he was fine and he was a good son but they lost because he got the disorder.

"They had me because they thought since Brandon and my dad didn't have it, I wouldn't. I pulled the fucking short straw and I won't force this upon our child, it's not fair."

Ben's grandfather was the first one to have the disorder, but Ben's father didn't have it and his half brother didn't either. So when his father married his mother, they presumed Ben wouldn't get it either but they were wrong. It skipped a generation and landed with Ben and he couldn't hate his grandfather and father more for giving it to him even if they never meant to, but Ben didn't want to pass it on any more.

He had a particular type of muscular dystrophy which meant the muscles wasted away and grew weaker with time. Ben developed the disorder when he was ten and for the last seventeen years he's struggled through life. He lost muscle mass on his hips which were very thin by now, he walked slower and more awkwardly than others and he walked with pain in his hips because his weakened muscles were having to stretch and continuously move when they were weak.

His back was suffering the affects and now his shoulders and upper arms were going in the same direction. Not to mention the irregular heartbeat he was now stuck with which put him at risk.

Ben had taken physiotherapy, he'd done exercises and taken pills and worn braces on his legs and strap braces on his body to try and straighten his posture and help with his mobility but it didn't help. Nothing helped because there was no cure and they couldn't seem to slow it down.

Ben didn't want this for his child.

It didn't matter to Ben who was on the throne next because he would be dead when that happens and it will no longer be his problem to bear. Ben had no cousins to take the throne, his brother didn't share the same mother as Ben which meant he wasn't of the royal bloodline and neither was their father. Right now Ben was the only royalty there was and he was King, when he died they would have to find extended family to fill his place if he didn't produce an heir and that was what he wanted right now.

"I don't know why I'm trying here, you're the King, no one can change your mind about anything. You do what you want, damn everyone else who tried to stop you."

(Y/n) recoiled her arms to her chest as she stared up at her husband, just knowing he was going to challenge what she had said even if part of him knew it was true. Ben was good at what he did, he could make tough decisions, he always did what was best for his people and he didn't take crap from anyone. But he was cold and he was very well know to be ruthless and seem uncaring about most things. Him marrying (Y/n) was the first time the people had known him do be so caring and loving towards someone and he seemed like a different person when he was with her. But deep down, he was still the ruthless man he'd grown up to be and that wasn't his fault.

"I was seventeen when I took the throne, you know I don't take shit from anyone because I can't. Once one person gets in and changes my mind everyone else follows, but you, you're different. I listen to you because you don't want anything from me and you don't use me, baby I love you but this is something you just can't ask of me." (Y/n)'s request was too much for Ben to accept, he couldn't pay that price because if they had a child who ended up with the same disorder as Ben then he would forever hate himself for making his child suffer.

When Ben took the throne he took a lot of stigma and criticism about it, his father and his old adviser tried to get him to abdicate the throne and give his father the regency to rule on his behalf. Ben knew once he let one person persuade him of something, everyone else would follow because the ones who were meant to be on his side were out for personal gain and control. When Ben put people in their place it showed that they couldn't mess with him and that he knew what he was doing.

(Y/n) was different but right now Ben couldn't give her what she was asking for. When (Y/n) turned her head turned away from him he quickly reached out to cup her face and press his forehead against her own. There was so much pain hiding behind his eyes and it made (Y/n) well up with tears. He didn't want to hurt her.

"Baby please, you know in another life where I didn't have this I would want a baby with you. I'd want a dozen kids with you, but not like this. I can't take the risk because it's too much pain to give them." Ben suffered too much pain from his disorder and he didn't want to push that same pain onto someone else. His disorder was genetic and since it went back to his grandfather and since Ben actually had the disorder unlike his father who was just a carrier, it meant the chances were higher for Ben's future children.

There was half a chance that they would get the disorder, it was like tossing a coin. Heads says they're fine, tails says they get the genetic disorder. Ben wasn't ready to flip that coin and see what fate had install for them.

Reaching her hand up to hold onto Ben's wrist, (Y/n) smiled sadly at him before she leaned up on her toes to kiss him. She knew when she married Ben four months ago that there was a chance he wouldn't want children but she thought she could change his mind or that he would change his mind on his own. She would never leave him no matter what happened but not having children was something (Y/n) would find very hard to bear.

"Sometimes the risk is worth it, Ben."

#ben hardy #ben x reader #ben hardy imagine #imagine #BoRhap #royalty #the kings heir

[sevenstarsinning]

Something about king vegeta talking to vegeta openly around s/o about him and whether or not he bottoms out his mate makes me wheeze and i need it

I found the part I was talking about. It apparently started during a breakfast conversation and ended at dinner. Enjoy this trainwreck lol

"There you two are. Late night?" The King smirked.

"Late morning is more like it." You played into the role.

You noticed Vegeta tense at your comment as he took his seat next to you.

"I see you're getting along better this morning. Good. You won't produce any heirs with disdain." He commented.

You nearly choked on your sip of water at the word heirs. It seemed the King was expecting multiple children like you were some kind of baby factory.

"How was the first night together?" His father asked. His nonchalance made you question whether you heard him right.

"It was fine, father. We have no interest in discussing our personal activities over breakfast," Vegeta answered before you had to.

The mood was set and all you could do was brace yourself for the most uncomfortable breakfast in history.

"If it's a problem with stamina, then maybe you should lay off the training until she's with child." He continued as if it was nothing uncommon to discuss his son's sex life.

"There are no problems." Vegeta snapped but quickly retreated into his plate as he stuffed his face. 

"And you," he addressed you, "your father said you were fertile." 

You coughed on the food you were chewing and felt your cheeks flush. Vegeta glanced at you with a smirk, enjoying the embarrassment you were experiencing.

"He said what?" You asked before you could stop yourself. The situation was getting more uncomfortable by the second.

"That you're fertile like all of the women in your bloodline," the King repeated between bites of his food, "do I need to have an exam done on both of you to make sure everything is in proper working order?"

"No!" You said in unison.

"There could be any number of things. Low sperm count-"

"Father!" Vegeta exclaimed as his silverware dropped to his plate.

"You'll understand the importance of continuing our bloodline when you're King and have one heir who refused to take a mate." He explained. 

You glanced at Vegeta, wondering why he didn't want a mate. Was it a fear or just lack of interest in children?

"I'm sure I'll be pregnant soon enough." You wanted to reassure him so he'd move on from the conversation.

"Oh, you will be. Your sole purpose is to produce an heir," he said, pushing his plate aside to focus his full attention on you and Vegeta.

"You're to only attend palace gatherings, your joining ceremony, and meals. The remainder of your time is to be spent on impregnating her."

Your anger was close to bubbling to the surface and you could feel it practically radiating off of Vegeta.

You opened your mouth but Vegeta stood up and pushed his chair back.

"If that's the case then we should get back to our room." He stopped you from saying something stupid that would get you both killed.

Before you could say anything, he grabbed you and pulled you with him. Once you were far enough away he released your hand.

"Thanks for th-"

"Do not mistake that for interest in you. It was the only way to stop his incessant prying."

"I didn't think that was interest in me, I was just thanking you for putting an end to it." You crossed your arms and slowed your pace, fighting back tears at the entire ordeal. It wasn't like you to cry, especially in front of someone else, but everything hit you at once.

The realization that your life was really coming down to whether or not your future husband that despised you could get you pregnant. There was absolutely no way out. You were going to get tossed away, it was just a matter of when.

"There will be no heir and there will be no mating." He continued.

"Good. I don't want either, especially with you." You felt the tears threaten so you took off down the long corridor without another word.

Your chest was heavy as you walked, trying not to get overwhelmed but it was difficult. It all came down to your ability to reproduce and nothing more.

It didn't take long for you to get lost in the massive palace. The upside of getting lost was it gave you something else to focus on. You found a terrace at the end of a long corridor and made your way outside. A small wooden bench to the right of the door looked inviting enough.

You sat down and pulled your knees to your chest as you looked out at the beautiful view. Life had taken such a surreal turn, you expected to wake up from the nightmare at any second but it didn't happen no matter how hard you concentrated.

"This is my bench," Vegeta said.

Your eyes shot open to find him standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

"I don't see your name on it." You challenged him even though you'd rather just leave.

"Everything here belongs to me. You're a guest." He refused to budge.

"Soon it'll belong to me too so I should be able to try it out." You got even more settled on the bench.

"You're not staying. As soon as my father realizes you're not getting pregnant, you're gone."

"Does my life really mean so little? I could die," you took a shaky breath and tried to keep more tears at bay, "I didn't ask for this and I know you didn't either, but your life isn't at stake."

"That's not my problem." He leaned against the wall, refusing to sit next to you.

"You mean it doesn't directly impact you so it doesn't matter." You corrected him.

"Why should I care what happens to a worthless Saiyan like you?" He snapped.

"Because there will only be more after me and at least I was willing to play along. But not now." You stood up and pushed past him. 

You decided to get back at the Prince. If you were going to die anyways, then you might as well have some fun doing it.

The next day you waited until the maid came into the room to clean up, deciding to put some information in her ear that you knew would get back to the King.

By lunchtime, you were pacing while you waited for Vegeta to return from wherever the hell he disappeared to.

"Woman, time for another interrogation from my father," he announced from outside of the door.

"No shit, I've been waiting for you to show up " you snapped, brushing past him to head towards the dining room.

"Watch your tone and slow down." He grabbed your hand and pulled you back just before you crossed the threshold into the room to find King Vegeta waiting. He didn't bother with pleasantries and fell right into the plan you had orchestrated.

"It has been brought to my attention that you're having trouble getting an erection, son."

Vegeta's face turned blood red immediately, "I'm not- that's- who told you that?!"

"Doesn't matter. The doctor will be by to check you out and then I've hired a consultant to watch the two of you together."

The smirk from your face dropped, "watch us do what?" 

"Have sex. We need to make sure you're doing everything properly to produce an heir."

"What?!" You both shouted. The King sat back in his chair and waited for his meal to be placed in front of him.

"I don't need anyone watching me do that, father. Your information is wrong, it's the woman's fault. She's incapable of producing her own lubrication."

You nearly snorted at how procedural he made it sound, "are you serious right now? I have no issues getting wet!"

"Maybe if you wouldn't cry so much during then I'd be able to get off." You chided.

"You insolent little-"

"Enough! You'll both be examined then." The King shouted, shutting you both up immediately.

You sat down along with Vegeta and ate in silence. Your plan had completely backfired and not only did you have to fuck each other, someone would be watching and reporting back to the King.

"After you're examined, you'll be meeting with the consultant in your quarters," the King announced as he stood, "when you're finished eating, meet the doctor in the infirmary."

As soon as he walked away, Vegeta glared at you.

"Are you happy now?" He snapped.

"Obviously not. I didn't know he was going to do that." How you were going to get out of it was a complete mystery but you had to find a way.

"We will not be having sex." He blurted out in annoyance with you.

"Best fucking news I’ve heard all day!”

#supremeleadershitlord #lynn

[purpleblackmask]

GO theory: Crowley suffers from depression

Making clear that I'm not a psychologist and that all of this is just a theory of mine and/or a character's study from a wanna-be-actress' pov, I'd like to expose this thought that followed me since it first came to my mind.

Let's begin from the start.

Crowley is a demon. But actually he wasn't born this way. Like every other demon, he was something else. Something considered better, pure, flawless.

He was an angel.

Most of all, he was one of God's children. If we consider the Raphael!Theory, which I support, he was one of God's most beloved children. An archangel.

Now let's consider what angels are supposed to be. Soldiers. Or, in a tenderest way, the perfect sons who obey their father's will. No matter what.

Even when He (or She, in this case) creates mankind.

"And when He again brings the firstborn into the world, He says, 'And let all the angels of God worship Him,'" (Hebrews 1:6).

But then Lucifer rebelled and we all know how the story goes on.

Crowley? He fell too.

In the show he actually refers to his fall four times.

But not in a way a demon would do.

If we take John Milton's Paradise Lost, what made Lucifer leave Paradise forever was his pride. Now he is content with his horrors, for he is a king, a ruler. He can do what he wants. He achieves freedom. And all the other demons are free to persevere in their evilness. This gives them a sort of satisfaction.

But when Crowley refers to his fall, he is not satisfied at all.

On the contrary, you can perceive a deep sense of regret.

"I never meant to fall. I just hung around the wrong people."

In.

"I didn't really fall. I just, you know... sauntered vaguely downwards."

Every.

"I only ever asked questions. That's all it took to be a demon in the old days."

Word.

"I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then... oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys."

Are you going to tell me that is absolutely normal to refer to something four times in a TV show that's only got 6 episodes? I mean, It's almost one per episode, come on.

These aren't the words of a demon.

These are the words of someone who belonged to somewhere and was forced to leave because different.

Because he asked questions.

Because he was a disappointment.

He is a son whose father decided he was just not good enough, not perfect enough, simply not enough, and so threw him away.

He never wanted to cause a war, or to be greater than God or anything like that. He just wanted to be a good son.

A good angel.

But failed.

That's how Crowley feels every second of his eternity.

A failure.

First great cause of a depressed temperament.

And this leads us to the plants.

I personally think that the plants bits are seriously phenomenal. They tell us so much about Crowley just in a few words.

If we analyse him as a human, Crowley is a man with a trauma, the one we underlined before. And, as in the majority of probabilities, it is common to reproduce a trauma on something or someone else.

"What he did was put the fear of God into them. More precisely, the fear of Crowley. In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt or browning, or just didn't look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the other plants. "Say goodbye to your friend" he'd say to them. "He just couldn't cut it...""

The plants scene is terrific in this way. He threatens the plants to grow better, to grow perfect, or they will die.

I think the echoes in his head whispering "Be perfect or you'll fall" murmured by his fellow angels while he was still in Heaven still haunts him when he takes "care" of his plants.

Is he finally satisfied?

No.

He's just being cruel because something cruel happened to him. But he can't erase the past. He can't change what he is.

And he knows that.

That's the worst part.

"I won't be forgiven. Not ever. That's part of a demon job's description. Unforgivable. That's what I am."

He permanentely struggles between a constant denial and the acknowledge of his self being.

He is not what he wanted to be.

That's why he decided to go away.

He couldn't bare the dark, gloomy, crowded halls of hell. Something that reminded him of his condition. That's why he went up on earth. Because it's the closest thing to heaven he could still approach to.

And there he found Aziraphale.

Aziraphale, who is not like other angels.

Who is not afraid to talk to a demon.

Who is kind and soft and naive.

Who gives Crowley a kind of hope.

Maybe Crowley was convinced that he would have spent all his eternity alone (because, sooner or later, he would have realised that he couldn't fit anywhere, not in hell, not in heaven, not on earth), and sincerely, I think he would have committed suicide very soon.

But Aziraphale gives him a reason to live.

He gives him a friend.

He gives him someone who, deep down, doesn't quite fit well on his side, too.

And that is enough for Crowley.

Enough to stay alive.

And so he starts to find himself little things to distract himself, temptations, demonic works to keep himself occupied. He even starts to have fun with them.

But then something happens.

Aziraphale risking his own life.

For a silly reason of course, but then Crowley starts to think.

Ok, I saved him because I was around, but what if he's risking his life again and I'm not there to save him? What if I'm not able to see him again?

Or what if this happens to me? What if my side finds out I saved an angel? What would they do to him? Or to me?

And that's why he decides to have assurances.

That's when his depression strikes back.

He asks Aziraphale for holy water.

Because after all they did together, after all the relief he had felt all those decades on earth, he can't bare to watch it shatter away.

He can't allow it.

And if that means ending his own life, so be it.

I will not pause on Aziraphale's fear of Crowley committing suicide for it is a parenthetis of the analysing of Aziraphale that would add more pain to this post, forgive me please.

Once achieved the pill of suicide, Crowley comes back to his daily routine, which involves, by the way, hours of sleeping.

This is another sign of depression.

As a demon, he shouldn't need to rest at all. But if we return to analyse Crowley as a human, this is perfectly normal.

The lack of energy and anxiety cause the body to being forced to bed. Crowley sleeping for a whole century because "he hated it" could be equal to a person sleeping all day to avoid the problems of life.

Furthermore, the end is nigh.

The Apocalypse is bringing Crowley's (and Aziraphale's) biggest fear. The disappearing of that life they built together on earth. The distruction of their peace.

And who is the one who first proposes to stop it?

Crowley.

And he fights in every way to avoid Armageddon. Even if he doesn't manage, he's still with his angel. They could go away together. Alfa Centauri or wherever they want. But together.

Because he can't let it happen. He can't leave it all and fight on his side which has never been and never will be his side. He can't go back down there. He can't let his depression overthrow him again.

But suddenly "together" becomes "alone".

Suddenly, there's no more a demon and an angel. There's just one demon, who is terrified of what happens next, of what he's going to go through on his own, who is living the nightmare of a lifetime.

He tries to reach Aziraphale one more time, but fails.

The nightmare is much closer.

It swallows him definetely in a burning bookshop.

This is it.

This is where all his world breaks apart in front of his eyes.

He lost.

He lost the chance of a new start. He lost hope. He lost his best friend.

He lost his fight against depression.

Don't try to convince me that if he hadn't already shed it on Ligur, he wouldn't have used holy water in this exact moment to end his own life.

Because nothing had sense now.

But here he is. Without Aziraphale. Without holy water. Trapped in a glass full of alcohol reminding himself for the fourth time that he never wanted to be a demon.

When Aziraphale comes back it all changes.

Life comes back to his body.

It's not over.

And then they manage. They stop the Apocalypse. They stop each other's death. They're finally free.

Crowley and Aziraphale are alone. On their own side.

But that is enough for Crowley.

Depression can wait.

NOT MY GIFS.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #go #go theory #go headcanons #depression #this took much more than i thought #i'm sorry for all the pain #my post