#in their quest to 'help' women they end up fucking them over more than the 'patriarchal' system

[cosmicjoke]

I swear to god, if I see one more person say Levi wanted to kill Zeke for "revenge" and blubber on about how revenge "blinded" him and that's why he got caught in the thunderspear explosion, I think I'll throw myself off a cliff.

It had nothing to do with revenge, or a desire for self-satisfaction. It was an entirely selfless pursuit, undertaken in the memory and in honor of his fallen comrades, the ones who gave their lives that day in Shinganshina. I've been over this so many times, I'm not going to go over it again in detail here. But anyone who doesn't yet understand that is, I'm sorry, fundamentally flawed in their understanding of Levi's character. This isn't an interpretation. Levi explicitly states that the reason he wants to kill Zeke is to prove his comrades deaths had meaning. He says it. Not only is the idea that Levi wanted Zeke dead for revenge and that he was "blinded" by that desire fundamentally flawed in its understanding of Levi's character, it also completely lacks logic. If Levi was really "blinded" by a quest for revenge, he would have just killed Zeke at the first opportunity he had, regardless of the consequences. He would have killed him in Shinganshina. He would have killed him in Liberio. He would have killed him in the forest. And yet, he didn't, specifically because he wasn't blinded by his need to kill Zeke at all. He had a calm and rational mind about it the entire time, one he continued to exercise to the very end.

And this idea that Levi getting caught in the thunderspear explosion was some sort of "comeuppance" for his violence or his blind desire for Zeke's blood is equally illogical and absurd, and again, completely misunderstands the source of Levi's rage in that moment. Anyone who claims so is engaging in some serious, holier than thou moralizing. Levi torturing Zeke in the cart on the way back to the Capital had nothing to do with his vow to kill him. Levi was grieving, and in a massive amount of emotional distress, because Zeke had just forced him to kill nearly 30 of his own comrades. Men and women Levi had, as with all his comrades, sworn to protect and people for whom he was directly responsible. People that posit this idea that Levi somehow deserved to "pay" for his anger in this moment are essentially claiming that it's always "wrong" to hate or be angry at someone when they've brutally wronged you. That we're always supposed to be "the bigger person" and "forgive" them and "turn the other cheek" and all that moralistic bullshit, and if you don't, then you deserve every bad thing that comes your way. Get the fuck out of here. Levi had EVERY right to be as angry as he was in that moment, and I'm sorry, but anyone who denies him that right is an asshole, and a hypocrite, because there's no such thing as anyone who wouldn't have been viciously, violently angry at someone who had just forced you into slaughtering your own friends and colleagues. Taken especially within the context of who Levi is, with the understanding of how driven he is by the need to protect life and help people, with how much value he places on people's lives, it puts into perspective just exactly how cruel it was what Zeke did to him. How exactly was Levi meant to react? Are we meant to judge him for being as angry as he was? For resorting to violence? Is anyone really going to sit here with a straight face and claim that they wouldn't have felt and done exactly the same in his shoes? I don't buy that for a minute. Most people wouldn't have even possessed Levi's level of restraint. They would have simply killed Zeke, and to hell with the consequences.

Further, Levi's very words to Hange about not understanding how prepared Zeke was to die show that he wasn't purely fueled by anger either, in this moment. It was a rational choice on his part to hook Zeke up to that thunderspear, insurance against his attempted escape, because he believed Zeke wasn't prepared to die, something I've talked about before, here: https://www.tumblr.com/cosmicjoke/746918499422781440/one-thing-i-dont-think-people-really-consider?source=share

Further still, if Isayama had intended for Levi’s desire to kill Zeke to be interpreted as revenge, and all the negative connotations of that, he would have had Levi realize the foolishness of his actions immediately after nearly being blown to Kingdom Come, and shown him remorseful and regretful in that moment over wanting Zeke dead, since, supposedly, him nearly dying was meant to be his lesson and punishment in the foolhardiness of revenge’s pursuit, according to these people. Yet Levi showed no such remorse or regret for wanting Zeke dead, only for him not understanding Zeke’s willingness to die. And Isayama himself wouldn’t have spoken about one of the reasons he didn’t kill Levi being how Levi’s journey wouldn’t be complete without him fulfilling his vow. Levi’s desire to kill Zeke was never framed in a negative light for a reason.

This total misinterpretation of Levi's motives with regard to Zeke is the source of so many of the negative and hateful views about his character that we see floating around, and yet it's continually perpetuated by people, over and over again, and I'm sick of it.

Levi never wanted revenge. He only ever wanted to ensure his comrades didn't die for nothing. It was a noble goal. Revenge isn't noble. But wanting to honor your friends and comrades memories and lives is. Levi never deserved to be punished for that, and honestly, fuck you to anyone who says he did. It takes a particular and acute lack of self-awareness and arrogance for anyone to make such a sickening and cruel claim.

#Levi Ackerman #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #Zeke Yeager #meta #commentary #analysis

[girltigerclaw]

breaking into ur house rn

top ten characters and bottom ten. reasons are optional

I just finished this chart thing i think i actually stole from your blog a few months ago <3 Slightly edited to my own prefs.

If anyone wants the template check the reblogs, and feel free to add you own. I'd love to see. I'm just rambling under here:

Leafpool: She is more special and sacred than the virgin mary. She has everything. Daughter of the first protagonist, ex boyfriend for me to hate, TONS of wlw situationships<3, a lifetime of tragedy, and some of the most gorgeous canon art to exist.

Crookedstar: Crookedstar is a trans woman to me. Her life is genuinely just so tragic and fucked, I love it. The erins asked: “How much truama, death and misfortune can you fit into a single cat?” and then they wrote Crookedstar’s promise.

Tawnypelt: GIRLS WHO HATE THEIR FATHERS. The erins dont love her like I do.

Tallstar: I love old men… I fucking love seeing older characters and how much they’ve changed from their younger selves. Tallstar is considered one of, if not the most peaceful leader in the clans. But also when he was like 19 he went on a quest to fucking murder a guy :3

Cloudstar: I rlly do not care abt anyone in Skyclan(I like Leafstar but she's not a fav yknow?) Cloudstar... he was based as fuck. Why did Starclan get away with this shit for real??

Scourge: It’s fucking Scourge. He’s awesome

Briarlight: I’m disabled and I love her. She has such a consistent fun, sweet personality and she makes me happy!!<3

RavenBarley: It deserves all the attention and hype it gets. Though I wish mlm ships didn’t overshadow wlw ones in this fandom, RavenBarley is genuinely well written and makes me very emotional even if the publisher didnt allow it to be explicitly canon.

CrookedBlue: TRANS WOMEN CROOKEDSTAR YURI. Two leaders having a forbidden relationship and kits is way more interesting than Oakheart. The angst of Crooked and Blue sitting next to eachother every gathering while the entire forest has their eyes on them. Don’t look for too long, don’t let the mourning slip into your voice. You have to pretend your lover is a stranger. You… have become strangers. You can never be together again. You're enemies now. This is what we wanted, isn’t it? …We’ll never be happy again.

Mothwing: Her novella delving into her relationship with Hawkfrost was so good and heartbreaking.

Heathertail: Daughter of leader, sister of a major villian, and former love interest of a protagonist! Why did she fall off the second po3 ended. She’s shown to be very compassionate and willing to put her own feelings aside for the sake of others. Would’ve honestly prefered her as a mate to Lionblaze or get a pov herself over the nothing we got.

Blackstar: *Murders an elderly woman trying to stop me from kidnapping children. Supports a dictator openly abusing/neglecting children and the elderly. Murders a man for refusing to kill mixed raced children- then tells said man’s sister that she will never be safe.* Man…. i sure do feel bad for abusing and killing all of those people…. Good thing I will face no consequences and proceed to be made leader, where I will have even more power over the wellbeing of others.

I hate. This guy.

The New Prophecy: A classic. My first series was actually tnp! i feel more attached to first arc cats tho, if you couldn't already tell by my list lmao

Johanna Map- Best Tawnypelt content out there

BlueQuince: My personal handcrafted, homemade Yuri. Bluefur feels terrible about Tiny going missing and promises Quince she’ll help her find him. They never did, but they had a very… fleeting but intimate relationship. Quince is grieving and Bluefur feels so overwhelmed by the duties in her clan. They’ve always thought of eachother since but never met again.

Tigerclaw: My name sake<3 The angst of his earlier life is so, so facinating to me. Starclan being straight fucked up and decided killing him is their only option? He was a kid and they saw him as a lost cause from the start. They never tried any other methods, never tried to steer him in the right direction or… even just take it into their own hands and kill him themself, which they have SHOWN they’re capable of.

They watched all the the horrific crimes he commited, entirely aware they were going to happen. Thats. Fucking. Horrifying. Starclan is scary as shit… and his death? FANTASTIC. I only wish he’d gotten lives from cats he killed so that him coming back to life to suffer over and over was an actual curse from Starclan and not blessings. They knew how he would die and they gave him the lives to torture him for his sins…

Flywhisker: Adhd girlies. Painfully relate to that feeling of the constant scolding for never being “good enough” because I prefer to do things a certain way or struggle to focus. So, SO happy for her when she left the clans! You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone! Hope she’s happy and warm indoors with her brother💕

(P.S. I was very suprised to find she actually had an official art piece!)

Bluestar: Get behind me women with mental disorders. I will defend you. Beautifully complex and tragic character, my favorite written in the series. Literally can't think of a single other female character in handled as seriously and with the complexity of Bluestar. (Although her super edition was a bit of an L with how others treated her, it ultimately makes her breakdown even more painful.)

Exile from Shaodwclan: Nightstar my beloved! He's such a great guy. The rightful leader of Shadowclan, always and forever.

Ravenpaw's Farewell: HE DIED IN BARLEY'S ARMS, TELLING HIM HE WILL FIND HIM, NO MATTER WHERE HE IS. FUCK.

Crookedstar art: So beautiful. I genuinely think she's one of the prettiest cats in the series. This along with her official art by Wayne Mcloughlin.

Leopardstar: As a kid I hated her and loved Blackfoot, now I hate Blackfoot and love her. #feminism. But seriously I think she has way more going for her than he ever has. Her father is a medicine cat who hates violence, the DRASTIC change in Riverclan's view of outsiders upon Crookedstar's death and her leadership. Her already having a position of power before proving she's unworthy of it. (Unlike Blackstar who gets rewarded for his racism and violence by being made leader afterwards) and the fact she has to interact with her victims on a daily basis after what she did.

The writings attempts to redeem her are really lame and dismissive of the actually damage she did, but at the very least they TRIED to do something else with her. Personally, I would have loved to see her assassinated by Mistyfoot. Just like her mother Bluestar was almost killed all those moons ago by Tigerclaw... The parallels of violence for power and violence for peace. A victim repeating the actions of the very man who killed her brother to put an end to what he started in Riverclan.... A shadow in Riverclan, if you will. (<-Pretending erin hunter has hired me to rewrite their series)

Windclan: Tunneling as a concept and inviting outsiders into their clan so friendly and casual makes the clan seems so much more diverse than the others. It always stuck out to me!

Andddd there are my current warrior cat options as of 2023! If someone actually read this whole ramble ily<3

#THANKS FOR THE ASK. sorry i wrote you a novel❤ #I already wanted an excuse to just throw all my favs and thoughts into one place so i used ur ask as that lol #asks #mypost

[mykoreanlove]

PERCEPTIONS

Chan finally had the chance to take you out and catch up on life but the afternoon didn’t go as planned.

He stood at the counter waiting for your coffee order as he watched you get hit on by the third guy in a row. They were all decent but you rejected every single one. As he watched the last one leave in defeat, he made his way back to you.

„Damn y/n, you’re brutal“, he chuckled amused.

„He‘ll live“, you replied sarcastically and took a sip of your vanilla latte.

Your best friend mustered you for a while before he started interrogating you.

„Why though?“

„Why what?“

Chan took your small hands into his big ones and spoke to you very softly.

„I’ve seen you reject hundreds of guys y/n. You’re not even giving them a chance. Why is that?“

You saw the concern in his eyes. Chan and you had been friends since kindergarten, he knew you very well, yet he couldn’t figure out the reasons for your solo quest in love.

You sighed exasperated.

„What chance is there? It always ends up the same. I’m not interested in getting my heart broken… again.“

Hearing you say this broke his heart.

„Is this because of Innie?“

Your heart stopped beating for a second; you haven’t talked about him for a very long time.

„Drop it, Chan“, you warned him.

„No“, his voice now even softer, „I want you to face this. Are you still not over Jeongin?“

Jeongin.

Memories of him flooded your mind.

You met him years ago during a workshop and fell for him the minute you saw him. He was breathtakingly handsome, confident and a little menace. You still recall him pranking everyone around him, throwing his head back while laughing maniacally.

You barely spoke a word with him, too nervous and intimidated but somehow he was drawn to you.

You got to know each other more, sharing deep secrets and lovely antics until he met someone new.

You remember those nights in which you cried in Chan‘s lap, cursing the world and everyone in it.

„I’m not enough for him, Chan. Why doesn’t he want me?“

Jeongin was aware of your feelings and distanced himself, which made you even more depressed. You lost touch and separated, which helped after a while.

Once his relationship ended, he found his way back into your life.

Jeongin called you out of the blue, solely to apologize and ask for your forgiveness. Ever since, your friendship got reignited.

„I don’t understand, y/n. He is single now, he clearly likes you but you’re still just friends?“, your friend used to pester you.

„I guess he just doesn’t see me that way.“

„Are you really over him?“

A part of you believed so.

Another part knew it was not so. Hearing from him made your day, having his attention on you made you feel alive.

„Innie got cheated on“, you explained frantically weeks later.

„Yeah? That sucks“, Chan replied.

„Innie got cheated on!! INNIE!!! Who the fuck would cheat on him? You can’t do better than him, what the fuck?“

„Guess you’re not over him“, he mumbled under his breath.

You spent countless weeks building him back up, in desperate need to restore his faith in women. In love.

„I don’t get it y/n. You are so great, really I think you’re so amazing. Why are you still single?“, he once asked.

You felt the resentment come up, your heart was still deeply hurt.

Because you don’t love me.

„I guess I haven’t found the right one“, you lied.

„I really hope you do.“

Your relationship got more complicated over time as Jeongin was turning into an egotistical monster.

„He got hurt by his ex and now he’s taking it out on every girl around him? Including you?“, Chan asked.

You nodded, exhausted from all this.

„I asked him to come visit me and he snapped, insulting me in my face.“

Chan‘s nostrils flared up.

„What did he say?“

„He clearly drank too much, slurring his words and all. But he was saying something like we both know how it would end if I showed up. That’s all there would ever be.“

You deleted his number after that.

„He thinks I’m amazing and girlfriend material, yet he doesn’t want me. Fucking me would be okay though“, you explained defeatedly.

„And that’s it? You never heard from him again?“

„Y/N?“

Chan’s soft voice brought you back to the present moment, ending your walk down memory lane.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, pushing your emotions away.

„Chan, listen. I loved Jeongin. I really loved him with all of my heart but he didn’t want me. I wasn’t good enough for him and ever since that happened I’m just too afraid. Love shouldn’t feel that way, don’t you think?“

Chan squeezed your hands, an expression of his sympathy.

„Don’t you think there is another meaning to this?“

You looked at him puzzled.

„What do you mean?“

Chan sighed deeply.

„Has it ever occurred to you that he didn’t confess or started dating you because of him?“

You grew irritated, not understanding what he was getting at.

„What’s that supposed to mean?“

„Y/N. Has it ever crossed your mind that you were not „not good enough for him“ but he was not good enough for you?“

You sat there in silence, watching your friend.

„It has not, huh? You always thought that he was so amazing, so out of this world that someone like you could never measure up. No matter how hard you tried. But as a matter of fact it’s him that doesn’t measure up. He is no way near your level, y/n.“

A deep realization hit you, a feeling of knowing and finally understanding.

„I gotta go“, you got up and ran out of the cafe.

You didn’t think clearly but ended up at his apartment, your feet got you there automatically. Impatiently, you rang his bell.

„Y/N?“, Jeongin looked at you surprised.

„What is the real reason you and I never got together?“

His eyes grew even bigger, not understanding where all of this was coming from.

„What?“

„The real reason, Innie. Please.“

The pleading tone in your voice made him feel uncomfortable.

„I didn’t want you.“

His words were still able to cut you like a knife but you pushed that hurt down.

„Because I wasn’t good enough?“

His brow rose, adding to his surprised face.

„What? No. No way. Why would you think that?“

„Why would I think that? Are you kidding me? What else am I supposed to think?“

Tears started to form in your eyes. Jeongin wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, just like he did back then.

„I tell you y/n. You should think that I’m a mess. You should think that I’m not good enough for you. I could never give you what you deserve. I could never make you happy. I would ruin you, hurt you. Even more than I already did. You should think that you are amazing and more than enough and so lovable.“

You cried into his chest, staining his white shirt while doing so.

Hearing his words made you realize that you had doomed yourself for nothing.

He didn’t reject you because you were not good enough, he rejected you because he had trouble on his own. Jeongin‘s actions were a reflection of his troubled heart, not one of your worth.

Suddenly, you felt relief, finally understanding that you were never meant to see yourself as a loveless loner.

For the first time in years you felt like you had a chance at love. For the first time in a while you felt ready to at least try.

#mykoreanlove #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #skz x reader #stray kids au #skz fluff #i.n skz #skz i.n #skz jeongin #i.n stray kids #stray kids i.n #stray kids jeongin #skz chan imagines #skz channie #skz chan scenarios #skz chan fluff #stray kids channie #stray kids chan imagines #i.n angst #i.n fluff #i.n #i.n x reader #i.n x you #i.n x y/n #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #jeongin x you #yang jeongin

[fairydares]

Reminiscing on the Hard Road (A Gruvia Fic)

Rating: M

Summary: While on his way to a mission, Gray reflects on the hardships, tears, battles, and triumphs which led to him and Juvia finding their happiness together. (Or: the story of how they finally, officially got together told through memories).

AO3 Link ; FFNet Link

Words: ~8,000

Warnings: Please read with caution as this contains adult themes & situations (though nothing explicit). Also swearing and allusions to mental illness, dissociation and depression symptoms especially. Man this feels like the end of a drug commercial. Enjoy!

AN: I realized how long it'd been since I updated Chasing Tails and was feeling really bad about it. I'm so sorry, guys! I've just been really busy! I don't have time to get Chapter 5 up tonight, but I do have the time to share this Gruvia piece I wrote a while ago as a karmic sort of apology.

With that in mind, this is a bit of a rough, long one-shot. It comes from a chapter in a larger, mostly Nalu-focused fic which I may or may not ever actually finish writing. Sooo it's not even really a one-shot so much as it's, like, a segment of a chapter from one. I also barely had time to clean it up ever so slightly.

However, I thought Gruvia fans would appreciate anyway. Maybe one day, I'll write the whole thing because I honestly think it could be a story, or maybe a series of drabbles? This is all you kids get for now, though, lol. no fucks given (just kidding this will keep me up nights.)

o(O)o

Ignoring Natsu's whining about still being motion sick from beside him, Gray buried his hands in his pockets and let his eyes engage in their favorite past-time: roaming the curves of the blue-haired woman walking in front of him.

Him and Juvia had officially been together for over half a year, but his eyes still snagged on the same places they always had. The sway of her blue hair, now long enough to partly obscure the pinch of her waist and flare of her hips with each swish. The pretty, cute flush that lived on her cheeks as she listened attentively to Erza, who was chattering about a famous desert shop in the area. The way shadow and light shifted over the curve of her rear. And—forever his most favorite—the exposed skin of her legs. Long, toned, moon white...and fucking perfect.

Gray felt his cheeks heat, but couldn't find it in himself to drag his eyes away. The solidness and length of their relationship did absolutely nothing to diminish the novelty of her beauty, like he might once have feared it would. Instead, it hypnotized him more surely than ever. Noticing all the men drooling over her figure as they walked past, Gray was aware of the sting of possessiveness and annoyance which rose in his chest, but was also easily able to ignore it.

He was as comfortable as any guy with a stunning girlfriend could be in his own jealousy, these days. More shockingly, so was Juvia, a fact that was plain from the way she shot only perfunctory glares at the women eyeing him and whispering to each other as they passed.

As he stared at her back, his lips quirked ever so slightly. It had taken time, tears, and work—more work than he could ever have anticipated—to get to this point in their relationship. But work had never been more worth it.

His mind wandered to reminiscence. To where it had all started, when they had started, after the 100-Year Quest had ended and he'd finally—with Lucy, Levy, and Erza's help—managed to ask Juvia to be his girlfriend.

"Not just 'yours'," Levy had insisted, explaining that phrasing would confuse her. "Your girlfriend."

He'd actually fought them on it. Not really because he had a problem with commitment anymore (okay, it was a little embarrassing, but not too much) but because the words "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" felt ridiculous, considering everything they'd been through. How deeply he cared about her. For crying out loud, they'd tried to kill themselves for each other. He'd kill for her, die for her, and—most importantly—he would live for her. Beyond making his ears feel like they were going to melt off, the word "girlfriend" felt trite.

But when Lucy and Levy demanded to know if that meant he was going to propose, he'd balked. Actually, having the m-word shoved right up against his nose kind of made his soul flee his body. As ready as he was for a romantic relationship, he wanted to go through the actual experience of having one. Like, with all the steps involved. In order. He was at the point in his life that he wanted it more than anything.

More importantly, he wanted to give Juvia that experience. He was determined to do right by her.

With the girls' reality check, and the point they'd made that ambiguity might make Juvia jump to the wrong conclusion or even hurt her, they'd convinced him. He'd been committed to making his long-awaited confession as special for Juvia as possible, complete with saying any embarrassing words she wanted to hear.

Gray still hadn't felt worthy of the love she gave him. He still struggled to believe he was a man who could protect her. But after everything he'd been through during the 100-Year-Quest, seeing how much she'd missed him the whole time, and his talk with Juvina-sama, he'd understood it was completely unfair to ask Juvia to wait for him to decide he was worthy enough to love her openly. He also wasn't above admitting that Juvina-sama's suggestion that she wouldn't wait forever had disquieted some irrational part of him enough to make him antsy, impatient to make absolutely sure they were exclusive.

He'd been completely flustered throughout his confession, but known it had gone as right as it could. Lucy, Levy, and Erza—who thought they'd been slick, hiding in a nearby bush to watch him confess—had agreed. (Lucy had annoyed him to no end by teasing him over how "adorable" he'd been.)

And yet...Juvia's response hadn't been quite what Gray hoped. Lucy hadn't noticed it, but he had. He didn't know exactly when it had happened, but at some point, he'd learned to read the Water Mage like an open book. For how sincere a person she was—a trait he was all too familiar with—Juvia could also be surprising, even mysterious. As transient as water, with hidden depths you'd never know a thing about unless you were willing to dive beneath the surface.

When Gray confessed, he'd braced himself for joyous screaming. He'd planned to freeze a literal flood of tears before it could wash them both away. He'd been prepared to get a concussion from how hard she'd glomp him in the street. But while she had said yes, demurely accepted the roses, and hugged him plenty tight...her response had been subdued. In hindsight, he could see the pattern her reaction fit: the way her gaze had dropped to the street despite her happy flush, the hesitant, nervous gleam in her eyes, the limited verbal response.

The only times she'd ever acted that way had been when he actually reciprocated some of her affection. When he'd promised to give her a straight answer, after he defeated END. When he'd given her a one-armed hug and said he was glad her "body" was safe, after he'd saved her from that wood bastard.

Something had been wrong. But when the girls who'd spied on him only gushed afterwards, not seeming to have noticed anything off, he'd shrugged off his concerns, assuming it was his own lack of romantic literacy. He'd been nervous, but also really excited to learn.

But as their relationship officially began...it quickly became obvious that there was a problem, and that a one-sided approach to fixing it just wasn't going to cut it.

Juvia had always been prone to mood swings severe enough to make Gray's head spin, but as soon as they started dating, her mood seemed to sink. He'd try to ask her about it only for her to put on an obviously fake, cheery front and insist she was fine.

At first, he was sure it must be his fault. He'd had no idea what he was doing wrong. At that point, the guilt he felt for not taking Juvia's feelings seriously for so long, for abandoning her in Amefurashi Village, and for nearly letting her die in an attempt to save him had been taking a serious toll on him. The guilt had sometimes left him ragged. Every time she seemed down, he beat himself up and tried to do better. Talking, dates, spending time together (even when it meant ditching missions he really wanted to go on with the team), accepting her gifts and acting happy about them (no matter how much they creeped him out).

But the more he'd tried to make up for everything, the worse it seemed to get. He watched her frustration rise as he tried to be more openly affectionate, her denials that she was frustrated getting louder. More and more, she gave, but when he gave back, she'd look ready to explode or burst into tears.

What had made everything come to a head was the sex. A surprise in itself. For all the ways their relationship had suffered, sex had never been one of them. It'd started back in the cabin they shared in Amefurashi Village. From the first night they'd moved in together, Juvia had not-so-surprisingly tried to edge her way into Gray's bed constantly. She'd use excuses of cold weather, make puppy eyes, and sew nauseatingly pink coupley bed sheets to try to lure him (when, he still had no idea).

Meanwhile, he struggled more and more to pretend he didn't find (most of) her antics adorable. Not to mention incredibly tempting. Things escalated to where he'd feel his excitement rising towards the end of their daily training sessions, to the point his body became conditioned to react when he saw the damn sun set.

He also felt increasing dread at the notion of having to turn Juvia down—and for having to sneak out in the middle of every night to "take care" of the problem she always left him with (cold showers didn't exactly work for an Ice Wizard).

Finally, one night, she'd pouted and whined that she was sore from training and begged for a massage. Gray didn't know if it was the fact she was asking him for something instead of offering; the unbelievably cute, sparkly-eyed, hopeful glances she kept sneaking at him; or the fact he could tell she actually was sore from the way her face would pinch as she attempted to stretch provocatively in front of him, but his resolve had shattered.

Before he could think and without a word, he'd lifted his covers and held her gaze, not bothering to hide the dark promise in his eyes.

Her reaction had been priceless. He'd never forget it.

His acceptance seemed to knock the breath straight out of her. Her eyes had gone round as saucers, staring into his eyes like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her cheeks had darkened. She'd stood stunned for so long that he'd started to get nervous, wondering if she'd only been being playful all this time, not really meaning to come on to him or maybe not expecting him to ever accept. But just as he'd been trying to field the disappointment sinking his heart and trying to think of how to promise he wouldn't do anything she didn't want, she'd hesitantly approached the bed, trembling.

After giving her the massage she'd asked for, he'd rewarded her bravery three times over.

After that, for the very first time, the dynamic of their relationship shifted in one, important way—the one which would force him to finally confront his own heart:

In terms of their physical relationship, he became the more dominant one. In this one aspect of their shared life, he chased. Gray flustered Juvia. He hadn't been able to get enough. What had once been a relentless, one-sided pursuit (one where she had, admittedly, been gaining on him without his notice) became a dance which had addicted him before he knew it.

The notion of reciprocating her feelings had once had him running for the hills. So it had been a huge shock to learn just how much he liked it.

She was so obviously happy and disbelieving that first time he slipped her clothes off in the moonlit dark, cursing over her beauty. Utterly awestruck when he'd seen to her pleasure (twice, he still liked to remember proudly) before even considering his own. Sex was the first time he heard her speak in the first-person, the first time she said his name without adding "-sama" (since that battle in the rain, anyway.)

It was when he lost himself in her soft skin, her passion, and her pleasure that some part of him was able to accept the truth she'd had the grace to surrender to from the very beginning.

The shift in their sex life was also when he'd started to twig something wasn't right between them. After Alvarez was when he'd started it back up. His plan had been to wait until he was able to reciprocate her feelings verbally, like he'd promised, but almost losing her had broken him in a way some part of him would never truly recover from. Between that and his final, full acceptance of his own feelings, there'd been no restraining himself. He'd come onto her with all the subtlety of a freight train the second they were alone.

Even then, something hadn't been quite right. She hadn't been herself, quiet enough that—even as...compromised as his critical thinking skills had been, at the time, and even in his heightened emotional state—he'd noticed. He'd pulled back and asked if she was okay, but when her response had simply been to drag him back in for a kiss that made his knees weak, he'd taken it as a yes and matched her passion enthusiastically.

She kept staying quiet in bed. It bothered the hell out of him, and he badgered her about it more than once, but would ultimately let it go when she insisted she was fine. In his defense, there had been a lot of reasons she could've become subdued. They had just fought a war. They were all exhausted from fixing the town and working to build peace in Fiore.

But after the 100-Year Quest and after his confession, she got even weirder. He noticed it all the time, in every aspect of their relationship, but it was especially noticeable in bed, when they were so close to each other, both completely vulnerable.

When they'd cohabitated, he'd almost always been the one to start something. He'd enjoyed that. He'd even (hell, especially) enjoyed the way she'd flirt, pretend to be oblivious to his advances, pout and blush and make him impress her, coax him to the brink of losing his mind before finally caving to both of their desires. Those times where he went from prey to predator had balanced their entire relationship, satisfying both of them.

Gray wasn't some slimeball who needed sex, but he did need some balance in their dynamic. The private, physical side of their relationship was just where it'd happened to play out. It could've played out anywhere in their relationship, if they were off sex for a while for whatever reason.

But as soon as they became official, it became clear she'd fight tooth and nail to make sure that never happened.

She came onto him. Every. Single. Time. He'd been a little surprised, but happy enough. At first. But as he pushed her to talk to him harder and she denied louder, he'd started to guess that something was genuinely, really wrong.

She didn't speak in the first-person when they were intimate, any more. She didn't drop the "-sama." Even worse, he started to suspect she was seducing him even when she wasn't really in the mood. Almost like she felt like she had to.

It had been one such time when he finally flipped his shit. Even now, walking behind her and appreciating her curves, the memory made his mood falter a little.

He regretted how he'd handled things. It shamed him to remember how he'd all but shoved her off him and refused to do anything else with her until she was ready to tell him whatever the hell was going on inside that crazy, watery head of hers. It was an ultimatum. A cruelly-put one, at that. He hadn't realized just how hurt and angry he was until the words flew out of his mouth.

Juvia had opened up, alright.

In fact, she'd exploded.

They'd screamed at each other, horrible things Gray could hardly stand to repeat even in his own head. She'd demanded that he quit wasting both their time and leave her again, like they both knew he would. He'd asked how stupid she could be to think he'd do that, when he was obviously dedicated enough to put up with her psycho stalker gifts. She'd retorted that her "psycho stalker gifts" didn't seem to have any affect on his libido. He'd yelled that she was the one jumping his bones, ever since he'd asked her out. She'd said that was because she actually cared about his happiness, implying that was something he'd never understand.

She'd ended the black, ugly fight with four hoarse words that ripped his heart out of his chest: "This is over, Gray-sama!"

His apartment door had slammed behind her.

He'd been too shocked and devastated to do anything but watch her go, not even managing to stagger to the door and chase after her until she was long-gone. Black curse power had swirled across his skin as he pelted to the guild, growling in frustration when he didn't find her there. Then he'd run all the way to the female dorms at Fairy Hills only to be deterred by Erza, who met him at the gate. She hadn't known anything about his and Juvia's fight, but she'd been drawn by his yelling.

His older sister figure had knocked him out "for his own good."

The next afternoon, Gray had woken up in his own bed. Not bothering to see if he was dressed (it would turn out he wasn't) he'd booked straight to the guild only to be devastated by the news that Juvia had taken a long-term S-class quest just that morning, news which was delivered by a sympathetic Mira.

Sure that it was over, that he'd ruined everything, he'd drunk himself sick—then kept drinking, swinging fists at anyone and everyone who tried to console him until, finally, in the wee hours of the next morning, Gajeel managed to knock him out of it.

The hostility, Gray had expected. Gajeel was Juvia's best friend; of course he was angry to learn that Gray had done something to upset her so much, she'd left for a Quest that could take months or even years to finish without so much as a word to Gajeel or any of their other comrades.

What did surprise Gray was the understanding Gajeel eventually showed.

Gray got his ass knocked flat by the Iron Dragon Slayer. From his back on the ground, he started to spit out what happened. With each word, the larger man had visibly calmed. After enough had come out, he'd awkwardly helped Gray to his feet (his own, gruff brand of apology.) He'd helped Gray sober up, then he'd given him a pep talk.

He'd refused to explain his own guesses as to what was going on with Juvia, insisting "who knows what goes on in that water witch's head." But he'd also insisted that whatever was going on, it for damn sure wasn't what Gray thought, which was that he'd hurt her too badly for her to love him anymore.

"She's obsessed with you," the man had said, scowling in disgust. "She's always been obsessed with you. She's way too stubborn to let it go that easy. It's annoying."

By six AM, Gajeel Redfox—of all people—had talked Gray into chasing after the love of his life. He'd even used his Iron Magic to create a lockpick which got them into the archive room, where they'd found Mira's records...and Juvia's location.

He'd barely had the time to register the irony of her quest's location before he was gone, shooting Gajeel a gruff "thanks" over his shoulder and running home to pack.

It'd been raining when he finally walked into Amefurashi Village.

He hadn't consciously known where to start looking when he arrived, but his feet—following some combination of muscle memory and the fate he'd fought for so long—had carried him to the place where the word "home" had changed for him: the cabin he and Juvia had shared. Where they'd grown together. Taken care of each other.

Where he'd left her. Hurt her. Even if most of the reason to do so was because he wanted to protect her, he couldn't stop hating himself for that.

She was standing outside the place, drenched and shivering, when he got there. As if sensing his arrival as surely as he'd known where to find her, Juvia had turned to look at Gray with eyes that were glassy above flushed cheeks. She'd wavered on her feet.

As soon as she'd whispered his name, she'd toppled. Gray's bag had landed in a puddle with a splashy thunk. He'd lunged to catch her like his life depended on it.

Shouting her name had earned him no response, but pressing the back of his hand to her forehead had been enough to convince him that she had a seriously high fever.

Strangely, as worried as he'd been about her, he hadn't even thought to bring her back to Wendy or seek a nearer healer. In hindsight, he was sure that deep down, he'd realized it would do no good; she wasn't physically ill, but heartsick, just as he was. He'd felt lower than the mud gathering around his boots.

He'd been surprised to discover that he had to break into their old home, and rapidly deduced that Juvia hadn't been staying at their old cabin even though she'd been standing outside of it, both from that fact and the fact that none of her stuff was there.

As soon as he lay her in the bed which had once been his before becoming theirs, she'd begun shivering. For the first time in his life, Gray cursed that he was an Ice Wizard instead of a Fire Wizard.

He'd run outside, grabbed his bag, then come back in—only to curse again when he unclasped the bag only to discover that all its contents were soaked. Thinking quickly, he'd stripped his wet clothes, then hers. He'd climbed into bed with her.

"'M sorry, Gray-sama..." she'd slurred her sleep. "Juvia's so sorry...Juvia had to...I just had to..."

He'd shushed her, rubbing her arms to try to warm her up. "It's okay, Juvia. I know, my love. It's okay..."

He'd kept holding her and whispering soft comfort to her until she'd finally stopped shivering, at which point his frantic worry had abated enough that he could fully admit to himself how good it felt to have her in his arms, her skin against his. How warm she was. How perfectly she fit against him. How much he missed her. She was right there, as close as another person could ever be to him. Yet with how things had been between them lately and how lost she was to fever, he'd never felt further away.

Apparently, he'd fallen asleep at some point, because when he awoke, it was to the rising sun blazing at him from the center of the cabin window. Ignoring his body's reaction to waking up in the arms of the very naked, beautiful woman he happened to be in love with, Gray had instantly dropped his hand to Juvia's forehead, sighing in relief when it became clear her fever had reduced. She wasn't better, but she was getting there.

Quickly figuring out what needed done, he'd dropped a tender kiss to her warm forehead, murmuring a threat against her sweaty hairline: "You'd better not even think of running away again, crazy woman. We are going to talk when I get back."

Gray had dressed, glanced back, and left. He'd met up with he client—a rich and unfortunately good-looking asshole about Gray's age who was way too disappointed Juvia, herself, wasn't the one who'd shown up. Through gritted teeth, Gray informed the bastard it would be a couple days before he and his partner (he was sure to emphasize those words several times) would be able to begin investigating the dark guild threatening the area, as she'd fallen ill.

It annoyed him to no end that the creep seemed genuinely concerned about this, trying to insert himself, demand to see her, and attempting to coax Gray into revealing her location (Gray couldn't help the pleasure and hope which rose in his chest, when he learned she hadn't told this guy wherever it was she was staying; obviously, she'd had no interest in sharing that information.)

The client had thrown a rich boy tantrum when Gray refused to tell him anything, but ultimately let him go when Gray promised Juvia would be there in a couple days (not bothering to mention that he would absolutely be there, too.)

He'd gone to pick up medicine and food. He'd grabbed all the ingredients he could remember for something hearty, mild, and delicious she used to make him when they lived together, a chicken stew that tasted like something he could remember from childhood. Those ingredients, medicine, ginger tea...anything he could think of that might help her feel better, he purchased, barely noting price.

Juvia had been waiting on the porch wrapped only in a blanket when he returned, flushed with both fever and anger.

They'd both been pissed at each other. While Gray locked horns with Juvia's amorous creep of a client, she had apparently been discovered by the landlord who owned their old cabin and only barely managed to talk him out of his anger, ultimately having to pay double their old monthly rent to keep him from calling the authorities—all while wrapped only in a blanket.

A brief yelling match had ensued. It ended when Juvia began coughing rather violently, Gray dropping his groceries in the mud to run to her. Even as she insisted she was fine, he'd ushered her into the cabin, forcing her to sit before he went back out to grab the food he'd bought.

Her face had gone funny when he began grouchily unloading chicken, rice, broth, veggies, and herbs. When he (somewhat defensively) asked what the hell she was staring at, she'd haltingly asked if he'd bought all of that for her. Exasperated, he'd told her of course he had, she'd had him worried sick.

The groceries had been abandoned when she burst into tears.

It had taken several minutes of heart-wrenching sobs on Juvia's part and coaxing on Gray's for the conversation to actually begin.

During their ugly fight in his apartment, she'd exploded.

Here, in the lonely home they'd once shared, she imploded.

While the groceries thawed and dripped on the kitchen counter, Juvia sobbed the whole, messy, painful truth into his chest. She told him everything. She told him how, deep down, she'd always known she wasn't worthy of having her love reciprocated by him. It had been true from the moment they'd met, when she'd been part of Phantom Lord, but remained true no matter how long she'd been at Fairy Tail. That was how she'd put it: "I always knew I wasn't worthy of Gray-sama's love." Not only because of her past, but because of how annoying she was. How gloomy. How creepy and obnoxious.

Gray hadn't even had time to express his horror at the fact she thought those things before she'd been plowing on, her tears only getting thicker and her words only making his heart sink lower.

She said knowing she didn't deserve his love had turned to knowing she didn't deserve to love him at all, when she'd killed Keyes to free Gray's father from his undead life. But even though "Gray-sama had been wonderful enough to forgive Juvia," she'd continued to hate herself, deep down.

She told him that sharing a life in the cabin they were currently in had, for her, been the sweetest kind of torture. That she'd never been so happy—and never felt more undeserving. For the first time, she told him that she'd only had one lover before Gray, some piece of shit named "Bora" who'd never cared about her or her pleasure. Gray had been nothing like him, attentive, caring, and as invested in her pleasure as he was in his own. At first, feeling so cared for had been as overwhelming as it was amazing, but by the time Gray started to pull away from her for his mission, the overwhelmed feelings had slowly begun to fade, letting her forget everything but the happiness she felt with him.

Juvia told him that the day he abandoned her to infiltrate Avatar, everything which she'd started to believe could feel right began to feel wrong, and everything which had felt wrong began to feel right. She'd never felt she deserved to be loved by Gray the way she loved him. Being left by him had, in a horrible way, made her feel like the world was how it was supposed to be.

But it had also ripped her apart.

It had destroyed any confidence she'd begun to gain in herself.

She told him that she resented being abandoned. Resented not being told about his mission to infiltrate a Dark Guild, not just because of their relationship, but because she had once been in a Dark Guild, and could potentially have helped his and Erza's Mission. She'd not only felt betrayed on a personal level, but disrespected as a Mage with no small amount of skill and experience.

It was a side to the issue which he had, shameflly, never considered.

He was mortified when she'd finally let herself chastise him for this—especially when he'd tried to defend himself by bringing up details of his mission only to be instantly struck down and ripped apart by someone who was, in fact, very obviously more knowledgeable about the inner workings of Dark Guilds than either he or Erza ever had been. Hell, Juvia could probably have run the mission almost as well as Jellal had.

For the first time, he saw just how beneficial it would have been to have her on board, despite Erza urging him not to get her involved. He should've gone against her orders, asked forgiveness instead of permission. Over the course of that one conversation, it was clear that having her on board would have shortened the length of their mission by probably several months.

But worse than the benefits they'd missed out on, in infiltrating Avatar, worse than the fact that she resented him, was her admission that she hated herself for that resentment.

She'd apologized. So many times. Too many times to count. Each apology was another crack in Gray's heart. He'd tried to ask her to stop, but they'd just kept slipping out anyway. It was like she couldn't help it.

She'd told him that over time, as she got to know the other women in Fairy Tail—Lucy, Cana, and Levy—she'd realized just how unworthy she was of the care Gray held for even just his friends. She just hadn't been forced to confront her own lacking sense of self-worth...until he openly reciprocated her feelings.

She said that the second he confessed, part of her felt wrong. Like she'd donned someone else's skin—someone who was worth being loved by Gray. Her guilt, her knowledge that she wasn't worthy of him, her bitterness, her self-hatred...all of it had come rushing to the surface.

She told him that, as unworthy as she'd felt, she'd been too selfish to reject him. Too angry at the thought of him being with someone else. Her own selfishness made her feel even worse than before. She'd been determined to be worthy of him, and so she had sought to pay every ounce of love he gave her three times over. At least.

It hadn't made her feel any better. No matter how hard she tried to be sure to pay him back, every time Gray took her on a date or made love to her, it made her skin crawl, because she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve his love, his affection, or even his attention. He deserved better, and she was nowhere close to deserving him. She never would be.

If there had been even one last, single sliver of a doubt as to how he felt about this woman, it died then and there. Nothing—not his own guilt, being screamed at, or being broken up with—nothing could hurt worse than being made aware of what a hard time she was having. Learning just how badly she'd been dissociating during all their most precious moments. How much pain she was in. How little she thought of herself. How deep her scars ran.

He'd have given anything to take her pain away. He'd have given anything to change it. Right then, he couldn't think of a single thing he wouldn't have done to make her see herself as he saw her: the energetic, caring, fierce Mage he'd come to know. The woman who always eclipsed everything else for just a second, the first time he saw her every day.

He'd wanted to tell her all that, and more. He wanted to apologize. He'd wanted to tell her how badly he missed her after he'd left her here, that this place had been home for him, too. He'd wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, that no day without her smile even felt real, but his voice had been stuck behind a lump of misery and all he'd been able to do, for a very long time, was lay in their bed and hold her while she cried the rest of it out. He wasn't too ashamed to admit he lost a couple tears in her hair, too.

Over the twilight of time it had taken for her sobs to turn hoarse, then to whimpers, then sniffles, guilt, emotional exhaustion, an anguish washed over Gray in their turn.

Until finally, he hardened all of those feelings into resolve.

"I'm really thankful that you're here. For always being beside me..."

Those were the words Gray had said to her before Alvarez, and he'd meant them. For years, Juvia had done nothing but be there for him. Even when he didn't want her there, she stayed right next to him, quietly piecing together his heart and his trust. It killed him that the woman who'd confronted him with her love, made him face down his own weakness, always thought of him, and helped him so much more than he could ever truly thank her for had been hiding so much of her own pain. He wished she would have told him any of this all the times he'd pushed and asked.

But he couldn't blame her for that. Maybe she hadn't opened up to him before then, but her mentions of her days in Phantom and of that shithead ex of hers had driven home, with stark clarity, a realization he wished he'd made a lot sooner: Juvia didn't know how to open up like Gray had tried to demand, because she hadn't grown up somewhere like Fairy Tail.

Unlike Gray and Natsu and the others, she hadn't been taught to bare her pain, hadn't always known there would be someone to listen to her, cry with her, be on her side. While Gray had been fought, teased, and accepted for exactly who he was (more often his whole self than not) Juvia had been abandoned by every single person in her life except Gajeel and those who'd wanted to use her for their own ends. Gray abandoning her had only confirmed what she'd been taught was inevitable.

But the Ice Mage wouldn't linger on that. He wouldn't give any more time to despair.

It was his turn now, he realized. His turn to stay beside her even when it was hard, and do the work. Now, he just had to figure out how. But while he'd been trying to do that, had been gathering his words, Juvia had recovered enough to speak once more.

She'd apologized again. She'd told him that she knew this was too much, that all of this was too much...that she was too much. For the times they'd shared, she thanked him quietly, eyes bright with yet more tears and refusing to meet his as she continued that she'd had to let Gray go because she wanted him to be happy, and she'd finally, finally realized she could never do that for him, not really. Then she'd tried to push him away, and as Gray had tightened his grip, he'd realized he didn't need to figure out what to do, what to say, or how to love her.

She'd been showing him all along.

After a deep breath, the words had come low, and easier than he'd thought. He told her she was right, all of this was a lot...but also that he was so, so happy she'd finally told him what was really going on. He'd been as gentle as possible when he told her he could see how difficult and scary it had been for her to open up about all this and that he was proud of how brave she'd been for doing so, but she'd started crying again anyway, so he'd had to carry on with a shakier, hoarser voice.

He'd apologized. For everything. For not taking her feelings seriously for so long, for not seeing her when she needed to be seen, for leaving her behind and hurting her so badly she'd gotten sick. He hadn't been dismissing her abilities as a Mage so much as he'd been trying to protect her, but that was no excuse. "High-handed and cruel" was a generous way to describe his behavior, and he finally saw that. He'd told her that if he could take it back, he would. But he couldn't. He could only promise to never, ever leave her like that again, and he was more than ready to make that promise. He had been for a long time, since well into the 1oo Years Quest. If she'd only give him another chance, he'd show her.

At this point, Juvia had obviously started to twig that this conversation wasn't going to go how she planned, with Gray accepting she was too burdensome and unworthy for him and leaving her alone like everyone else had left her, because she'd started kicking up a fuss, forcing him to hold her there again.

"Let Juvia go, Gray-sama!" she'd demanded shakily, sounding like she was barely clinging to her determination. But Gray had refused. He refused to let her go like this, not until she'd heard him out.

As brief as the ensuing argument had been, it was also one of the most frustrating conversations Gray had ever taken part in (and he'd fought Natsu on basically every cock-and-bull-ass plan he'd ever come up with.)

He'd tried desperately to insist that while Juvia could be creepy and he did find rain somewhat gloomy, she was not worthless or annoying or obnoxious. He'd tried to tell her that she did make him happy. He'd tried to tell her how he felt about her.

Juvia had not responded well.

A wall had slammed up in her eyes, the same blank one he'd met on that fateful, rainy day so long ago. As she'd kept denying, and he'd kept pushing, their voices had gotten louder. Eventually, Gray had realized it was raining outside the window next to their bed again, and that was the one thing that had forced him to take a step back from his own frustration. Lucky, because if he hadn't, he might have flown off the handle and ruined everything all over again.

Looking down at her, he'd forced himself to cool off and realized he was being unfair; he was asking her to take an entire journey in one leap, to unlearn a lifetime's-worth of lessons about her own worthlessness over the course of a single conversation. No one could do that. It was an unreasonable thing to ask.

And so, when he'd finally gathered his wits and perspective enough, he'd said, "You don't have to agree with me. You don't have to agree with my feelings for you. But you have to believe that they're real...and you have to at least consider my side."

Juvia's eyes had gone wide. As they regained their sparkle, he'd refused to break eye contact. Slowly, the rain had stopped, leaving them in the silent hut.

After what felt like years, she'd shakily whispered, "O-okay."

And Gray had known that they were finally, finally getting somewhere.

Quietly and slowly, with their hands intertwined between their chests and their foreheads pressed together, they'd pieced together a fragile plan. They would stay together and be as they had been, but from now on, they were both going to make a concerted effort to be honest and rebuild trust. Gray started by admitting that missing out on Quests with his team had really started to bum him out, and while this seemed to sadden Juvia at first, she admitted after some thought that in being with Gray, she hadn't been nurturing her own friendships with her friends like Gajeel and Meredy. Lucy had also asked for help training her in Water Magic, and Juvia had declined so far even though she was interested in having someone to teach.

Gray had encouraged all of this...and he'd encouraged her to visit Porlyusica, too, when they got home. The old lady was hardly a Mental Healer, but she'd hopefully be able to help them find someone who was, someone objective and removed from the situation who Juvia could talk to openly. One thing which had sunk in fully for Gray over the course of Juvia's heartrending speech was that it was going to take a lot of time, work, and love to get Juvia to a better place. There was no way the two of them could do it alone.

They'd talked and planned until their voices were hoarse...and then they'd not talked for even longer. Juvia once again dropped the "-sama." She let him come to her. She didn't just surrender herself to him the way she had when they had each other before in their cabin, she'd given him even more—in his arms, she'd bared a small and precious part of herself Gray had never even realized she hid from him.

Over the course of the month they spent in that cabin, he'd cherished everything she gave him more than most men could've in twice the amount of time. How they'd managed to deal with that Dark Guild months and months ahead of schedule, he would never understand, because his head had never been less in the game. Neither of them had been able keep their hands off each other for more than an hour when they were alone together.

Neither had been particularly disappointed when that crotchety old landlord refused to give them back any part of their months' rent. Instead, they'd stayed till June was up breaking the place in thoroughly.

"It's payback for him being a jackass to you!" Gray had once playfully defended against her neck, pinning her against the kitchen counter and grinning as she gigglingly scolded him.

He only prayed no one ever took a UV Lacrima to the inside of that place. They'd go blind. He'd taken her on the couch, over it, against the walls, on the counters and tables, and in more positions than he'd previously known existed in that bed. When they returned home, a bunch of people had pointed out that they both looked like they'd lost weight. Gray didn't doubt it, after all the—

"...seriously, none of you know what it's like, every time we travel...OI, STRIPPER, YOU MAYBE WANNA QUIT EYE-FUCKING YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN WE'RE IN PUBLIC, YOU GODDAMN PERVERT?!"

The absolute last voice Gray wanted to hear when he was thinking about such great, intimate things yanked him out of his reflections in the most unpleasant of ways. An expression crossed between a scowl and a grimace consumed his features.

"Gray-sama!?" Juvia spluttered, craning her neck to peer at them over her shoulder with wide eyes. She looked half-scolding, half...affected as her cheeks went rose red.

Gray felt his own face grow hot as he turned to glare furiously at the pink-haired, disgusted-and-disgusting-looking bane of his existence.

"Would you keep your voice down, Dragon Boy?! I was not 'eye-fucking' Juvia!" His cheeks burned hotter as an elderly woman passing by shot him a deeply disapproving look.

"The hell you weren't!" Natsu snapped, drawing even more attention. "I could see all your gross, perverted thoughts right there in those droopy eyes of yours!"

"ARGH! So what?!" Gray just wanted this fight to be over, and figured that sort of admitting to what he'd been doing was the quickest way to make that happen. "Can't a guy even look at his girlfriend without pink-haired, flame-brained losers getting involved?!"

"THE HELL YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"OH, SO YOU'RE DEAF AS WELL AS BRAINLESS, NOW?!"

"THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD IT! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU ICY BAS—"

"That's enough."

Uncharacteristically subdued and uninvolved though Erza's command was, it was enough to have both Natsu and Gray cringing and sweating in fear almost instantly.

"A-aye!" they squeaked, then sighed in relief as she shot them one last glare and clanked away.

"Ah, it always goes this way." Happy folded his little blue sausage arms over his chest and tsked. "If only Gray had kept his perverted eyes on himself, we wouldn't even be talking about this."

"And just how the heck is one supposed to 'keep their eyes on themselves', huh?" Gray growled up at the floating Exceed.

"By not being you, apparently!" he cackled back, Natsu soon joining him in his obnoxious guffawing.

"Why, you—! Get back here, you little shit!" Gray made a random grab at the little creep only to curse as he missed his tail by about a centimeter.

Meanwhile, Juvia clasped her still-red cheeks with her hands and donned an all-too-familiar, starry-eyed expression. "Juvia does not mind at all if Gray-sama...covets Juvia in public! How Juvia adores Gray-sama's passion!"

Gray flinched as if he'd been whipped in the back. In a second flat, he was blushing again. "O-oi, Juvia—!" he started, scrambling to find a way to get her to calm down before she came onto him in public.

(Again.)

"However," she continued before he figured out how to distract her, turning to look at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "If Gray-sama is going to covet Juvia on a public street, Juvia thinks he should at least wear clothes."

"Wha—?! CRAP!" Gray shouted as soon as he realized he'd stripped down to his boxers. "When did that happen!?"

Juvia wrinkled her nose cutely and giggled while he scrambled for his clothes. When he was finally yanking his jacket on, he shot her a playful glare only for his lips to quirk when she winked and sauntered after Erza.

That little...she'll get it later, he thought with a huff before shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling after her. He was well aware that he was full-on grinning, now, and didn't care in the slightest.

Little interactions like that...those were the fruits of all the hard work they—especially Juvia—had done when they got back from that S-Class mission. Gray had been prepared for it to be grueling and difficult, to fight. "Relationships take work" was a piece of advice he'd heard plenty, since he started asking for advice about how to love Juvia.

But what he'd never expected to find was that, while it was hard sometimes, it was work he was all too willing and capable of doing, because it was for her. For them. And what no one had told him was that, while loving someone meant their pain became yours, it also meant that their triumphs became yours, too.

Some days had been worse than others. Even though she'd been talking to a friend of Porlyusica's and made an impressive effort to spend more times with her friends, there were moments where Gray had felt like Juvia was back at square one. But he'd been there beside her, encouraging her every step of the way while she healed, learned that he wouldn't leave her again, learned that she was worth all of it. And slowly but surely, she'd healed.

That was what no one had told him: that every time she huffed at him to do his own laundry, teased him, sassed him into taking her on a real date, and even turned him down for sex, that he would feel such a huge rush of pride and triumph.

It was true that the road had been hard, but Gray had walked it with Juvia, and that had made every step worth it.

o(O)o

AN: Ah, sorry I don't have the time to edit this now and make it more cohesive! Also that I can't publish my next chapter of Chasing Tails just yet! I definitely, definitely will come back to edit this piece one day and make it better after I've done that. In the meantime, Happy Belated Gruvia Day!

P.S.: Fun Fact! I named this partly after one of my all-time favorite fics from a completely different fandom. The Hard Road by wthtonibelle, a Kacchako fic (from the My Hero Academia fandom) which is written in a similar way and has similar themes, only it's longer and better lol. check it out if you're so inclined!

#fairy tail #gruvia #gruvia fan fiction #gruvia fanfiction #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail fan fiction #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Can you talk more about why you hate Nana? I like Nana and I know you already have several posts shitting on it, but I just like to see you rant ab how bad it is lol, no pressure tho :P

My main gripe is that it's a depressing slog where terrible things happen to terrible people without any catharsis or motivation to keep continuing. There is no "Maybe it'll have a semi-happy ending" after all the shit that's happened, and I personally am not attached to the characters enough besides Hachi to continue it. I love stories about terrible people, ie Breaking Bad, Bojack Horseman, etc. but with NANA, there's no breathing room or break from the misery. Like Hachi is raped and trapped in an abusive relationship she desperately thinks a baby might help fix, Nana is a manipulative piece of shit that uses the people around her, the singer in the other band is actively dating and fucking a child prostitute, and I just don't feel like reading or watching a depression quest where there's no sense of catharsis. I hear people say NANA is so "real" and mature, and I understand that perspective but there's more to life than misery/pedophilia/abusive relationships/drug addiction/people in the music industry being awful. Life has ups and downs, and there are so few ups in NANA that it's just a downer that feels like it just wants to wallow in being down.

Also I appreciate bisexual representation but statistically, enough of us are in abusive/toxic elationships irl and I'd rather see rep where they're a little happy and like. Not being raped. I guess it's nice representation and I was surprised genuinely when they shared a kiss, but it comes across as...idk, not bait but not as serious as their relationship with men considering that they're railroaded down the heterosexual path. Yeah, plenty of bi women date men and plenty of lesbians experience comphet, but it just makes me :/ whenever fans gush over how gay NANA is when the only same sex relationship is a) just as toxic as the rest of them and b) never actually develops beyond "what might have been" while Hachi's dating her rapist and Nana is possessive over her boyfriend who dies of an overdose or car crash or some shit

I write porn for fun but even I'm not a fan of abject misery porn you feel me

#sloot bitches about things #.nana

[volfoss]

Okay, the cool monster designs got me: What is Volfoss abt if you don't mind spoiling the game? Does it have a bestiary that tells you about the monsters? Also! How's your day been?

YESSSSS 😈 volfoss is a tactical rpg released only in japan for the ps1, a quick tldr of the story is there are trooper/mercenary (kind of work similarly to the latter, you get letters that give you missions, which can range from kill these burglars -> get rid of these monsters, missing kids and so on. there are also a lot more whimsical quests and also some silly evil ones (havent done the evil route but there are multiple assassination quests)) groups all over the world, and you are in part of one of them. spoilers for like early game stuff (just the start of the first act, and also a vague plot point that is hinted at starting in act 2) under the cut :3

The game starts in Asdenia (one of the big three countries/capitals) with your group, the Silver Fang, being pretty much wiped out by your leader dying. There are pretty much only three of you left, Shalvas (who is the protagonist), Mistos (who is kind of there to help Shalvas early game and also just kind of be the silly guy that Shalvas' straight man (comedy wise) nature bounces off of) and Marica (who goes off on her own after your mentor/leader dies). With the leaders death, the Silver Fang basically lose any popularity/anyone who wants to hire them that they might have had prior, and so the game starts with you going to help out a village in Asdenia that is being attacked by monsters. After that, you get another quest to rescue a girl, and then my best friend Uchida appears <3 hes a info broker basically and is like hey. let me help you get more jobs and over time you do get more because Uchida is the fucking BEST!!

The rest of the game from here on out (this is just the first 3 quests before you're basically set free to do whatever) focuses on taking quests and well. Completing them obviously. There are 5 endings, and the game doesn't let you make dialogue choices (which I like because of how it kind of feels more behind the scenes. You're working WITH Shalvas as a character and influencing him by taking the quests that you want to take instead of directly making choices in dialogue or on missions of what you want him to do. This might be a drawback for some but I really feel like it lets Shalvas be himself and takes a bit of the control out of the players hands), instead the quests influence how it goes. There are 5 types of quests (evil, good, and one for each of the three big countries), and by the end of the first act, it narrows you into one of two paths, which then branch out into the five endings.

Some of my favorite things about it is actually how it handles a lot of topics that most rpgs dont handle well in a really nuanced fashion. There is a big war by the time you hit the last act of the game, which has been ramping up through the game, and it is handled in a very very listening to both sides fashion. The ending I'm on right now has discussions of someone trying to convince another person to help them out in the war, and the other person replies with discussing the value of lives and why the (redacted for spoilers sowwy) people deserve to live more than the other. They also really did good w the female characters in this, Rially is really well written (shes a silly but helpful ally you have), Marica is one of the best women I've seen in any rpg EVER (she has a lot of nuance and there could be a yuri situatuon between her and another woman if you squint a tiny bit), there are women in high positions in government and that's just treated as normal. Disability is also something treated SHOCKINGLY well. One of the villains is missing part of his arm (and has no prosthetic) and it is NEVER brought up or shown as something that he needs to overcome or yk the standard ableist bs. Like he's one of the strongest characters in the game and given a TON of depth. Everyone really is, like this game will make you feel sympathy for characters that other rpgs would have just painted as black and white evil. The protagonists are all AMAZING and the characters are super easy to understand where they are coming from, if not just outright love them. Even the villains get a more morally grey approach than a lot of rpgs would. The writing in general is really good (which is like. not helpful due to there being no english patch and I have machine translated every single line in this game. when i finish the guide it will have summaries and stuff so. if you are interested just wait a bit :) ), the route that I've taken has been super entertaining and dramatic. A lasting theme in the game is the value of life (even if they are an enemy of yours. which is handled very well and do NOT start me on it because it makes me blow upppp) and I think it's a very interesting theme to have due to how as a trooper, you DO have to kill monsters. It treats it better than a lot of rpgs who really only treat the named characters dying as a tragedy but if you kill a bunch of bandits, its completely ok.

To get into gameplay, due to being a game from 2001, it is a bit clunky. But honestly it's pretty easy to pick up (coming from someone who has never played a trpg before) and it's super fun. The gameplay loop doesn't really get boring (esp for a like. 30-50 hour long game. from what i understand from times online) and there's a ton of unique functions (such as a Morgue where you can resurrect enemies that you killed last battle to fight for you for one battle, a Gem system that gives your characters attacks/defense different powers (a red gem gives a fire attack etc and there are many combos) and the faction relationship system (which is partially how endings are decided. You do enough missions for one of the big 3 areas, and they start to like you more and more)).

To get to your bestiary question, yes and no. There is an in game gallery, but unless you can read Japanese (or machine translate), there's not a ton of info there. Here's Rially's page for an example:

As for stats on the characters, there is that info with the physical game (which I do plan on scanning my copies of the map, unit guide, and manual and put them on the internet archive eventually) and just through a LOT of trial and error. The Volfoss Wiki (all in Japanese as well bc theres like. one site discussing this on the English side of things afaik) has a lot of info on stuff as well. I'm definitely trying to gather more info as I play to put into the guide so there IS info like that out there in the world. You can see all the monsters there and here's a link to most of them online (there's only a few of them missing and I know that due to having a lot of it memorized by this point lol). also sneakily dropping a link to the rom here at the end if you do want to play it :3 i can also give a more detailed description of gameplay and stuff if you are interested. also please look at uchida. its important. and also sheala who has a really cool design, i dont think its super often you find a woman just wearing normal armor in games lol. she is also insanely hard to fight (just beat her and came to tumblr to take a break and then. essay unfortunately)

and i'm doing ok! a bit tired but staying distracted with getting this scary long guide (76 whole pages.) closer to completion. or at least like 30% being done lol.

#asks #♟ #my evil nature of posting images WILL work but its also a really really really fun game #sorry like i DO not want to spoil the ending im working on or anything bc im going in pretty blind but i will discuss the early plot #also god sorry this is INSANELY long do notttt let me infodump abt volfoss if u want a short reply #how are you? ty for letting me go INSANE infodump style. #no one even understands how uchida is everything to me. like hes so fucking swaggggg and hes so silly i love him

[godsavethecam]

Man, I really have given a Legion character a solid try on this Fallout: New Vegas playthrough, but I may just abandon Caesar at the last second.

Big ramble inbound about role-playing in New Vegas. Be warned.

Jamie despises the NCR. Hates thinking about politics, always felt powerless in the face of the neo-American monster spreading all around her home. I wanted to role-play someone so angrily, bitterly "apolitical" that she fell into supporting fascism. Caesar gave her a chance at power, at sticking it to the NCR, feeling important for the first time in her life. ...But she doesn't genuinely believe in the Legion's values. It's not like she's supporting them because she fucking loves slavery. She's more like Caesar himself than any Legionary—the rules are just a path to power, to be ignored as she sees fit. Hell, she's a woman fighting in support of a nation that subjugates women in every way (and to be clear, she loves getting to be the exception). I went through most of the Legion path quest with her, role-playing as someone who ultimately thinks the Legion's values are full of bullshit, but enjoying the power trip it gives her.

Then came the DLC! I role-played her going to Zion in Honest Hearts as her trying to get away from all the constant politics over Hoover Dam. God knows she doesn't need the money from the caravan job, that reason wouldn't swing. Starting with that conceit meant that something along the way would have to motivate her back to helping the Legion slaughter NCR at Hoover Dam. I figured Ulysses would do that in Lonesome Road. I wanted her to have some kind of arc, y'know?

Unfortunately, Old World Blues took my power-hungry gal with no real patriotism, and handed her a giant science lab littered with weapons of mass destruction. She didn't kill the Think Tank scientists, but coerced them into working for her. The Big Empty is her horrifying, beautiful oyster. During Dead Money, Elijah told her exactly how to use this Old World technology to wreak havoc on the Mojave. Why does she need Caesar anymore? She can wage war on the NCR completely independently. No one can make her feel powerless again.

In Lonesome Road, I tried to come up with a way for Ulysses' ramblings to give her some pro-Legion epiphany. But that doesn't feel authentic to how I've played this character. It feels more genuine for her to kill the fuck out of Ulysses for judging her, and come out more angry at the "Bear and Bull" than ever before. If anything, Ulysses trying to nuke the NCR just reinforces the lesson that she doesn't need the Legion to destroy the Woke Gay NCR she hates so much. She can wipe all of it away.

I was trying to do a Legion playthrough with a twist. Instead, it ended up being the story of a woman who thought she needed the Legion to exercise her rage, but amassed so much power that she lashed out against them too. A story about how people who act in service of power, rather than ideals, will ultimately betray everyone around them.

....And that's how my Legion run turned into another ding-dang Yes Man run at the last second! Ring-a-ding, baby!

#fallout new vegas #fallout #cam txt #this playthrough really has been a treat #I'll still do the Legion ending first to finally check it off my list. Then it's off to Yes Man for. idk. the “canon" ending

[popculturebuffet]

Hello all you happy people. It's time again to watch for the Watchmen , with only three issues and three months left till midnight. It's been.. a heck of a ride and it's hard to believe it's almost over and we'll be moving on to ducks what were iron armor next year, because apparently these yearly patreon quests of kevs are never not emotionally jarring. So come with me under the cut as we continue our final days towards Armageddon and giant squids as Dan is forced to hand hold an extreme right wing man through stopping the apocalypse. So another tuesday for them.

Two Riders Approaching is a great issue, and while like many before it it feels like a way to move the plot gears, unlike past gear turning issues it has a bit more character. While I'm still bummed we didn't get a spotlight issue for dan that covered his history and motivations in the same way as most of the main cast (minus adrian) , I still think this issue and "brother to Dragons did a good job showing who he is as a person. Now WHY Dan didn't get a spotlight

There's no clear reason. Maybe they just had better stories, maybe there wasn't enough time, maybe they considered hte one where he can't get it up unless he's in a costume one and called it a day. I dunno. This one does show Dan on the job, genuinely doing his best to unwrap this mystery before the end of the world, with the sorta help of the mumbling MAGA man with a plan. And several conspiracies about jewish space lasers he'd love to share with you. We do cut to some other things going on as we go. First stop…

As he's heading into a hidden bunker compliimplating armageddon. One of his companions is G. Gordon LIddy, and just the thought of LIddy having any sort of postion of power or influence is more terrifying than the threat of nuclear armageddon. I also assume since Nixon couldn't bring his wife with him they let him bring the next closest person in his life, his beloved Cocker Spaniel Checkers

At any rate we cut back to our dynamic-ish duo as Your Gonna Hear Him Rorshach brings up that it's sad "Mrs. Juspick" coudln't join us.. because apparently he shows his graditute for prison breaks by twisting the knife. Just kidding he has no gratitude for anyone or anything.

Anyways our heroes go to get his costume, with Row Row Row Your Shach Gently Past Sanity saying the methodical take down of them all was too easy and they must be careful in the future. Dan understandably pipes up

And points out that's part of why he's iffy about this side quest. They only have a WEEK till the end of the world at most to figure out whose behind this plot, stop them and hopefully HAVE some sort of future by stopping them and he's at a loss as what to do epsecially since again time is ticking away. Rorshach mumbles something abotu how "some of us have always lived on the edge Daniel. " like he's on an episode of doomsday preppers. One upside of the waking nightmare that is the warner bros discovery merger: we MAY just get an episode of doomsday preppers on shach adam here.

Shachers left some stuff under a floorboard Lane Kim style, specifcally a spare uniform and his rambling manefesto: "ALL WOMEN ARE WHORES:WHY THIS WORLD IS FUCKED by RORSHACH" with a foreword by frank miller. His landlady shows up understandably afraid for her life… and then he confronts her, mad about her claiming he came on to her sexually. I mean I do GET where he's coming from: Faking sexual assault or harassment is just about the lowest fucking thing you can do to someone, and while that someone is Rorshach shit like this makes it harder on people who've LEGITAMTELY been harassed or assaulted to have their claims heard without dudebros piping up "well she's a lying bitch bro". She could've still sold her story without it.

That said i'm still sympathetic to her as while she could've left that part out, it's unknown if the news guys ASKED her for it to spice it up or she needed it to get money, money to feed her handful of children that I can't blame her for taking. Also she had to deal with Rorshach as a tennant and that.. can't have been easy. Like i'm usually not sympathetic to landlords, but the smell of beans and him not bathing for months on end had to be toxic by the time he was arrested. The fact his response to give her a look that internally just screams (Chucky)

And call her a whore in front of her children kinda proves my point. What she did ws horrible and he's right to be angry but I can't help but sympathize with someone he was about to brutalize or murder had she not pointed out her kids didn't know and were right there. This DOES give him the rare human moment of walking away, deciding not to repeat the kind of crap he'd been through as a kid and recognizing that this woman is not his mother and is actually trying to keep those two worlds separate for more than just not wanting to loose money.

We cut to Ozymandis who is pulling in to his winter fortress and reuniting with his kitty bubastis. He does the very normal thing of.. watching 80 thousand tvs at once, channel change every hundred seconds. This shows both his ability to focus… and how fast his mind works. He instantly picks up a sexual subtext due to the heavy undercurrent of war, citing the baby boom as a similar incident, and has his employees buy up shares of pornographic companies in the short term and baby food and other baby stuff in the long. It also subtly hints that Adrian expects the world NOT to end… and that whatever he's planning involves stopping it.

Back to our odd couple who are understandably bickering. Daniel from the smell, Shackles hadn't thought of the smell that bitch, and Shach from danny boy daring to… use a crime computer to look for some sort of connection instead of randomly assaulting people. Danny serious question: why did you think you needed him again?

Dan eventually lays into Roshach honestly asking you know how hard it is being your friend…. before backing off and apologizing

Shockingly we get ANOTHER almost human moment from Mickey Roarshach as he apologizes fo rhow hard he's been, admits daniels a good friend and Dan splits the diffrence deciding the old team needs to go beat up some thugs or something to feel normal because that's a thing healthy people do. Shockingly Roshachs strategy of "beat up people till we luck into who we need" actually WORKS this time, and it only takes two filithy bars to find the guy who ired the guy who tried to kill adrian: we only get a company, Pyramid Deliveries. Hmm i think I may know our culprit now

Dan nearly looses it after finding out about hollis and it really grips at the heart: he nearly sinks to Roarshach's level. HIs smelly smelly level. Shach TRIES to be helpful byu pointing out if they find the solution to hte mask killer it might mean vengance. Dan gets that A) this is clearly unconnected and B) NOT THE TIME FOR THAT.. .but recognizes soon after this is the closest Rorshach can give to actual condolences and continues the ivnestigation

Meanwhile two of the people kidnapped for that thing prepare to escape on a boat only for it to explode

Also we ge tmore of the tails of the black freighter. Pirate man kills two people to hid ehis plans… for what he sees as the greater good. Hmmmm.. foreshadowing.

For what's next.. well techncially the explosion was next because the schmuck writing this forgot to include the tales bit earlier. So our heroes head to Adrian's office. Too bad his dad's probably dead in this realtity. We could've seen them dodge some lasers and find some shit destroying lasers and monologues about teenagers in fur suits. At any rate while Rorshach rambles into the void, can relate and that worrie sme a lot, dan gets actual work done and finds out the horrifying truth: Adiran is behind it all!

… Yeah while I went into this having read the complete series before, and thus knew this, even then it's not an actual suprise. Like at this point most of the other culprits have been ruled out, and while yes he was attacked… it's something that could easily be faked. Like it was obvious an issue or two before this it was Adrian. We don't know QUITE why yet, though there is a clue as Dan and Radio Shach find a chart detailing a war in a decade that seemingly came early. But given the lack of suspects combined with the fact that with Laurie ruled out Adiran was the only one healthy enough out of the known cast to throw someone out a window, and it becomes shockingly obvious. The reason it's usprising is that the entire story is build around a mystery.. that gives you plenty of clues but not enough suspects. It IS a tad hard to figure out at first blind, as Dan, Laurie and Adrian are all valid suspects all with the connections to pull this off.. but Adrian was alwasy the prime suspect.

Our heroes prepare to confront Adrian at karnak, his artic fortress because he's clearly going full republic serial villian despite his protests next issue, with Rorshach dropping off his journal at Right Wing News Co… where it gets put in the crank file. WE end this issue on our heroes… crashing into the arctic as Archie wasn't built for it and while time is of the essence dan didn't think to maybe you know, prepare for that before heading off into the frozen north. He did pack his thermal gear. Our heroes approach as Adrian assures his kitty everything's all right. Kind of a weird way to end this but a great way to ratchet up tension as we prepare for the climax. In a month. We also get some various press stuff from adiran's company. It's all fairly neat especially the toy proposal which he mostly rejects, wantin ga shift to more gi joe style stuff as superheros haven't been popular here.

So with that this issue comes to a close, the clock moves one tick closer to midnight and this story is about to reach one of it's most iconic moments. I'd like to tell you i did next months review 30 mintues ago… but I did not so come back next month for that and thanks for reading.

#watchmen #nite owl #dan dreiberg #rorshach #alan moore #dc comics #adrian veidt #ozymandis

[worldweaverofmediocrity]

Cheat and Steal to Lie and Survive

...whoops, maybe i should get back to being a writeblr.

Summary: Lying is wrong. Lying for thousands, if not tens of thousands of years is wrong. Lying about the very planet’s main enemy being immortal to your secret shadow government is wrong. Lying about the literal Divine Summoning Superweapon split into four is wrong. Lying about the four women with vast elemental powers who double as living keys and security checks to said Doomsday Device. Lying about the current Humanity being its second attempt is wrong. ...Unless said lies bring about one (confirmed) century of Peace and Progress. Unless said lies transforms a Kingdom built on mining and emotional slavery into a technological powerhouse capable of producing Artifical Life that is recognized as a ‘woman’ by the Magic that governs the Living Key Maidens. But that is a wrong well trampled, but this is a story about two wrongs making a right. Or what if Spinel, Wonder Woman, and Princess Celestia/Doomguy, 2B, and the Avatar Cycle joined the Wizard of Remnant in his eternal quest.

AN: The Chosen get full context of the Wizard’s Life and Task. to prevent any of the “Oh but they didn’t understand what they were signing up for” like Ozma did when the Lightbro started the reincarnation chain. It's what Ozpin attempted to do for Pyrrha before Cinder fucked everything up. So why wouldn’t his magic do the same for these folks? Also everyone has gotten their universe’s Perfect End. so no lingering threads to tie them down to their reality. I don’t know what End Game equipment the Chosen have so i’m just going to give them a random grab bag of stuff. Aka i’m watching a LP of Nier Automata and IDK if Doom Eternal is out when i’m writing. But yes Doom Slayer is from after Doom Eternal, plz whack if I get their loadouts all wrong.

Also Magic Using Androids from another Setting and then Vol 7 finale when Penny gets the Winter Maiden? Hell yes I am crossing them over. ...Nier: Automata Androids can use magic right? The Pod Programs and the Skill OS Chips. Shockwave? Autoheal? Those are the magic thingamabobs right? Unless I'm completely mistaking Nier for another setting where Androids are fighting robots after humanity goes extinct and both sides (or at least the androids) can use magic.

Edit: also I spent so long trying to write this chapter that Doom Eternal Released. WHELP. Wish I could say the quality is worth the wait. Still have many sections of this to write. :( edit 2: yeah no i’ve decided i’m not doing eight different perspectives in one chapter, so i’ma delete those sections i haven’t written for. Sorry *insert fandoms here* for not portraying why said characters joined Ozma.

Chapter 1: Let’s Bend the Rules Shall We?

“You Can’t.” With those soul crushing words Jinn The Spirit of Knowledge vanished in a puff of blue smoke. 

The man another reality knows as The Inquisitor wept with his head bowed. Both the man with a body and the small group of people nestled in his soul failed to notice the Green Magic of Time and Space lashing around them. 

“All of our work for the past millennia has been for nought!” Ozma 2.0 The False God banged his fist against a mental desk.

“Come now, with our help humanity and the faunus have civilizations that have lasted more than a decade at most.” Pleaded the Inventor of The Long Memory.

“That is until one of Salem’s worshippers destroys all of our progress or gains one of the Maidens.” The Inquisitor shot back.

“OKAY! So I should have made sure that the Maidens would pass onto optimistic folk if not return to us upon those darlins death.” Snarked Hermit of the Maidens.

As the men and women who collectively answer to Ozma descented into fercious bickering, their magic dissolved any idiotic Grimm who dared attack them in their moment of weakness. The magic shredded the environment around them into sand, forming what will be known Millennia in the future as the harshest (and origin) spot of the Vacuo Desert. But the environment wasn’t the only thing that was shredded by their magic, large gashes in the fabric of reality revealed alien skylines and starscapes. Not even itself was safe from the magic, the Wizard’s hold on Space Magics strained under the weight of bridging universes and could only bring three people and their equipment to his reality before dissipating. Only to be regained in a much weaker form in the lifetime known as The Last King of Vale.

The magic seeped through the gashes in the form of green mist reaching out to anyone who would help. 

The Path of Wisdom.

Of the various oddities and reality warping events Diana Prince saw in her long life as Wonder Woman, One of the Founders of the Justice Society of America during the World Wars and again a founder of the Justice League circa 1995, a green mist that felt of another reality spilling out of a gash in her living room was certainly in her top 500 weirdest things. Then it started playing a Hero’s lifetime beginning when the man rescued a princess from a tower through a woman in the depths of her inherited depression casting a scrying spell into the past to see the events the Immortal wasn’t there to witness and ended when a Genie gave a depressing answer.

Diana breathed in deeply before exhaling and rubbing her nose. Diana got up when the message repeated itself and got out her Amazon Armor while waiting for her call to go through to the Watchtower.

“Batman here.” said the voice.

“Hey Bruce, could you get the Interdimensional Voyage forms? A portal opened in my living room and I'm going to hop through it.” Diana pulled on her torso armor as Batman sighed and clicked some keys.

“Estimated time in our reality vs theirs?”

“Unknown and Until I achieve World Peace when there’s a Literal Immortal Queen hellbent on destroying everything with a massive army of creatures that control 98% of the landmass who are attracted to negative emotions.” Diana shuffled on her greaves.

“Okay then, it's one of those Voyages. Tech Level? Magic Level and percentage of magic users?”

“Tech Level is-” Diana squinted at the portal. “Pre-Gunpowder. Magic Level is Street-City block level. Percentage is all of them and Six Individuals”

Diana could feel Batman’s glower of disapproval from the phone. “Tsk. Any Background info?”

“There once was a man named Ozma, he was a humble Hero going from fight to disaster saving the day. Until he rescued a woman named Salem from a tower and fell in love. But where the blades and beasts of the world failed, a single sickness prevailed. Then Salem went insane with grief and bargained with the Brother gods, tricking them causing infighting between the two Brothers. So they cursed her with immortality until she got some therapy. But Salem was now angry at the Gods and so united the world against them, so the younger Brother exterminated humanity and shattered the moon as he left. Taking humanity’s magic with him.

Then the older brother proposed Ozma with achieving World Peace while the younger God’s attack creatures ran rampant. Warning Ozma to not seek Salem because she’s evil now. So of course being Lovestruck the first thing Ozma did after Reincarnating was seeking Salem out. Upon finding her, Ozma fell in love once more and made the first nation larger than a mere city state in Humanity's history. Salem convinced him to take care of domestic affairs while she dealt with the external ones.

Over the years their family expanded with four daughters, whom the seasons are named after. Then Ozma found out that his wife was a genocidal tyrant and tried to flee with his daughters, only for Salem to catch them and cause a fight during which said daughters died. Then Salem reformed from ash in the ruins of their castle, kicked Ozma onto his back, stood on one of his wounds and ranted about freedom from the gods before interrupting Ozma when he tried to defend himself by burning him to death.

An thus started a long and painful cycle of death and rebirth for Ozma. After his second death, Ozma fell into a deep depression that lasted for a millenia.  

------Back on Remnant/Group Focus.

Wonder Woman flew out of the portal and landed near the Immortal. She gently walked up behind the collapsed man and hugged him, ignoring his sudden flinch and pulled him so that Ozma leaned against her. Hooves clopping echoed across the clearing as Princess Celestia walked out of her portal. Celestia had saddlebags on her back that would have been straining the seams if not for their space expansion enchantments.

The squeak of rubber stretching reached everyone’s ears as Spinel propelled herself into the clearing.

The Path of Murder Blending.

The Last Demon fell before the man known only as the Doom Slayer. There were no more areas of Hell to suddenly open like a Video Game Sequel coming out. No alien invasions. No idiots trying to tap hell as a power source. No more demons/whatever the fuck preaching about ‘ignorant humans not being able to understand traditions’ None of that stupidity, there was merely a man fueled by anger finally calming down from tearing Hell several new holes per day. The Doom Slayer sat down against a wall and finally wept for all those he had lost.

Then a handful of hours later when Doom pulled himself up out of his pity party. An emerald gash appeared unleashing a green mist lighting up with a story as old as time. Quiet literally considering humanity went extinct and was then reborn. But the ancient spark of wrath that propelled him for over thousands of eons was reignited when Doom spotted the Grimm. Sure these demons weren’t red and couldn’t bribe people into selling their souls, but they dissolved on death and sought out negative emotions. Those were demons if Doom had ever seen one, and he had an Eternal Crusade against all demons. No Matter the Form, No Matter the Era, and No Matter the Dimension.

The fact that there was an Eternally Reincarnating Wizard tasked with achieving World Peace, was a mere bonus. 

-----Back on Remnant/Group Focus

The Doom Slayer stepped out of the swirling magic and onto the crunchy sand surrounding the despairing Reincarnator. Doom’s head was on a swivel as he approached the immortal. Before noticing another patch of magic deepens it’s green coloration. Doom leveled his shotgun at the forming portal as 2B and her Pods jogged out of the magic. 

2B was thankful for the green magical wall around her VIP, making it much easier to secure a perimeter when there was an actual perimeter. Then she saw the large man in green armor (what is with this universe and green anyways?) that had a shoulder cannon and a chainsaw-bayonet hybrid under one arm. Who was currently pointing a shotgun at her face.

“Judging by your armament your one of the ‘Chosen’ from another reality?” 2B asked.

The green armored man nodded lowering his shotgun into an at rest pose.

==========

Doom breathed in when the last Grimm was killed, focusing his mental energies at shackling his unending wrath. Containing the rage behind a wall of unyielding will so that the grimm wouldn’t constantly swarm the Slayer and his newfound allies.

#Story Prototype #RWBY #rwby au #ozpin #dc comics #mlp #nier automata #doom 2016 #steven universe #Might get rewritten #my writing

[strykingback]

Okay Imma be real cause Im finna say this. 

Kazura is the textbook definition of a TRUE KNIGHT. While Jaune isnt. 

Wanna know why, because Kazura follows the Medieval Code of Chivalry, mostly the one from the Novelization of King Arthur, which I have spoke a lot about especially made references to it. Now while there are different versions of the Code of Chivalry I follow are the ones from the Song of Roland and the King Arthur story. 

Song of Roland’s Code of Chivalry: 

Fear God and His Church Serve the liege lord in valor and faith Protect the weak and defenseless Live by honor and for glory Respect the honor of women

King Arthurs version of the Code of Chivalry: 

Honor Honesty Loyalty Valor

Jaune one one hand just fails at half of these with the exceptions of Respecting Women, and Faith (Since in RWBY’s canon there are Cults/Religions dedicated to the God of Light and Darkness.)

The ones he failed on are: Honesty, As he had lied to get into Beacon Academy Loyalty, As Jaune went against Ironwood and helped RWBY start the Fall of Atlas, despite becoming a Huntsman. Straight up this can be considered a Half-fail since he also follows his friends.....ugh.  Living by Honor and Glory, Now lets be real, Jaune is not a glory hog and he really isn’t But when it comes to Honor he cant even honor a good fight because Ruby with her Plot Device eyes helped Jaune distract Cinder enough to get a cheap shot in and it wasnt even a good hit. Now I was gonna give him a half-fail here since he honors Pyrrhas death....but since he mulls over it like crazy. COME ON MAN. SHES DEAD MOVE ON. 

Protecting the Weak and Defensless, Okay I can give this a half fail here since he does defend them well, but by Volume 8, he just cant save anyone not even those closest to him because He’s the secondary character that gets an arc......ugh. The thing about this here is that... you cant save everyone. That is understandable enough. And you cant just mull over it like its nothing. 

But even after everything he does get a win from me because he faced off against Cinder and Salem...on Valor. 

The thing is he should’ve started improving after Volume 4, oh and maybe USING HIS SHIELD?!?!? NOT TURNING IT INTO ITS “Greatsword Form” The only ones I can give to him is Valor and Loyalty.  

But for Kazura, being born in Brumel and being taught these virtues from when he started training in Brumel. The thing is there are more virtues to being a knight rather than just those up there. He honors his battles well, he tries his very best to save those who are defenseless and weak,he would not only honor his friend but those in positions of power as well. 

The only thing I see Jaune and Kazura being equal in is when something is not right. That those in high positions of power who abuse it are not above the law. But sadly, Jaune just meets halfway, because instead of dealing with the problem by reporting it to the rightful authorities oh idk. THE FUCKING ATLESIAN COUNCIL. Nah, dude just goes off on his own way to “help” Atlas 

What makes me more pissed off is that why wasnt Jaune just changed to a woman?! Cause it would’ve fit a lot more with his Joan of Arc who is a well known historical figure in the Hundred Years War.

With Kazura while in the end of my canon of Volume 7 he does abandon Atlas to its fate, but after a three month timeskip. He begins to regret what he has done and decides to go back in there. To help those in need, while finding out the truth behind his sword and family heritage. 

Kazura is more of a knight than Jaune and its a shame that the Vacuo arc isnt gonna be like fucking Mad Max....and I’ll be pissed if I dont see some shit like that there. 

What makes me more pissed off is that Kazura is like the Dark Knight story minus the Alternate Self thing, filling one with hope, love, and a reason why they use shields overall , while Jaune is like the Paladin quest line bland and confusing....

#[The Knight of Honor- Kazura] #[The Boss Is Talkin- the Mun] #[It's a Head inside a Cannon!- Headcanon Talk]

[olivieraa]

watching LOTR in six parts rather than three so just finished the fifth today

my opinion on Frodo still stands. I remember it being around the part where the spider came in that I was like UGH FUCK FRODO back in the day, but... when you have some convincing bastard talking in your ear, corrupting you, while the ring is bringing out your dark side, you’re... gonna fuck up! 

like in the end, people were INSTANTLY affected by the ring. Frodo wasn’t. he lasted that long. even when the ring was taking over him, it was pretty far into the journey before that happened. and then from that point on, Sam was always there to stop him.

Sam 100% is the true hero, but he never had the burden of the ring.

I think of it like.... like chronic asthma lmao. I struggle more than my friends do with shit. I went cave diving and rock climbing and I almost died from lack of being able to breathe. he struggles to breathe too.

then in terms of female characters.

I wanna mention the new series but first, yeah, this movie does not pass the bechdel test. an elven queen, an elven princess and a human princess. both princesses in love with same man. queen helps men via gifts and whispers on their quest.

all these women are so important to the story tho.

and here’s my personal opinion. I do not give a SHIT about seeing women in war. in reality, men start and cause war. since the beginning of time. its their doing, so Im not gonna be a all ~feminist~ about it and demand more onscreen women by the way of participating in wars. these characters are also expendable. they’re there... to die. I don’t care that henchmen are always... men. I. DON’T. CARE. I dont know why any feminist would literally petition for more women in movies by putting them in battlefields. 

yeah, I get it with the avengers or whatever. individial heroes and shit. 

I honestly don’t see how any more women could have been in the story.

now in the new series, they show a female warrior.  she seems very mc. maybe there’s tonnes of them in there. the confuing thing about that for me is, this is a prequel. LOTR seems anti-battle-woman. if this woman is a big hero, how is her name and the fact that she’s a female who could kick ass, not known by the time LOTR comes out. wouldn’t women have then been trained alongside men for battle because they’re almost/just as capable? women are shown in LOTR as mothers/wives/have magic. only one woman wants to go to battle. just one.

I’d understand if this was POST LOTR and maybe SHE inspired more women to go to battle. but the acts of the heroine in the new series dont seem to be known or mentioned. 

I’m 100% all for more representation on all minorities. heck there’s a black hobbit with an Irish accent. booyah. but there’s a way to do it wrong. the sex and the city sequel... was so bad I’m pretending its in no way connected to my fave show. I hope this series is just... a series. like Stranger Things. all kinds of people and the show is just perfect.

[huntereambrose]

The Vixen Queen (1.2)

CW/TW: depiction of physical abuse & references to r*pe, nudity, and sexual innuendo. 18+ ONLY.

-

Family meals. Aurora hated every one of them since her mother’s death. Elek and her father had become imbalanced in her absence, no longer having a stronger mind to anchor their whims and fancies. They had become the worst possible versions of themselves, attesting to the importance of Jadar women being true to their roots. The Lesser Hall was better termed The Lecture Hall now, as family meals had become an opportunity for her father to berate her in between long winded deliberations about the world, while Elek antagonized and belittled everyone, but her most especially. Aurora would rather have been the last woman in Teleria than spend another second at that table. Family meals were mandatory, though, according to her father. She had found out the hard way that not abiding by his recent fixations was a surefire way to find herself on the receiving end of something far worse.

Only two things had given her the endurance to tolerate them. The first came to her nearly a year ago, one cold, rainy, lonely winter night as she lay curled in her bed, reeling from another day’s misery. Her eyes were nearly bloodshot from the tears as she pleaded with The Weavers for her mother’s return, should they feel so merciful. Or else, for someone to save her from the nightmare her life had become. Someone. Anyone. A voice had comforted her that night, a break in her psyche that had stuck with her ever since. It got her out of her rut and inspired acts of defiance, quests for independence, and a strange balance of dejection and hope — or rather, idealism, daydreams. It spoke to her in moments she needed it most, like a friend at her side, unseen.

The other was the arrival of the man they called The Rogue Warlock, Ganzig Enebish, who had come to Minnehil Palace less than a month ago. Though formally associated with The Order, he was a different type of mage than The Hintria was used to. With a distaste for politics and the spirit of a maverick, honesty and honor had a much easier path to his heart. Aurora couldn’t shake either the feeling that they were kindred souls, bonded by their shared misery and the cold, calloused hands of fate.

Elek wore a smug look as she entered. He was resting back in his seat, arm hanging over the side. He was wearing his crown, as he usually did around the palace, to remind everyone that he was the heir. The twisting silver appeared darker in the dim morning light, more like cold, harsh iron — all three adjectives a perfect description of the man it adorned. A mess of contradictions, he was otherwise immaculate, his chestnut hair neatly tucked behind his ears, beard clean shaven. “About fucking time,” he poked. “I’m already finished.”

“Don’t worry, brother, I’m sure father will excuse you so you can get to the pleasure houses early.”

The inner voice cackled, causing her to giggle and smirk. Elek made no reply, only a high pitched, conceited chuckle. A single finger came up to poke into his temple, elbow resting on the arm of the chair. Tremors spread under Aurora’s skin as he leered.

“Easy, Aurora,” her father growled, grouchy and irritated that his children were bickering again. Aurora grunted and sat at her chair next to the Prince, far too close for comfort. But, as she had learned the hard way, it was her seat. The one immediately to her father’s right was still empty, likely to never be filled again until Elek sat on the throne and erased the last vestiges of their mother that her father valiantly kept alive. She shot the warlock a brief look. He was otherwise silent, lost in his breakfast and paying zero attention to their squabble. Sensing Aurora’s distressed gaze, his bright amber eyes glanced up from the food and steeled her.

“You missed a riveting conversation,” her father continued, attempting to change the mood. His face perked up, as if it would help.

“Oh, what a shame,” she sighed, sarcastically. “We never have those around here.”

All three men stared at her with different visages, conveying their reaction to her startling acrimony. Her father and brother were used to it, hypocritically sour in their own right. They were always annoyed when she joined in, though. It was never the right time, or ever the right thing, viewpoint, or whatever. She was always wrongly expressing the same emotions they felt and expressed everyday, never a proper thought in her mind. Everyone got catharsis but her. Everyone’s opinions mattered but hers. Meat cakes and goulya gone, Ganzig now held an awkward energy, watching as if entertained as the scolding unfolded. Entertained, and slightly troubled.

“Don’t start this today, Aurora,” her father groaned.

Aurora blinked her surprise, mocking his irritation with her tone and a crass look. “Start what?”

“You know what,” he insisted, bringing the palm of his hand to his face before slapping it back to his knee. “You’ll learn to like Vasilica.”

Vasilica. Mitra, bless his heart. He was practically a clone of Elek — an arrogant, entitled prick, like so many princes and noble heirs, but remarkably handsome, at least. Aurora was blessed according to the others, having been engaged to the man since they were infants. A marriage born of proximity, and a desire to keep Jadar bloodlines pure, the various subsets of the ancient race intertwined as one.

You’ll learn to like him. She had heard that many times, even from the man’s own damned mother. If you have to say that, then you already know there’s something seriously wrong with him. I won’t learn to like him. I’ll just learn to accept what he is, just like all of you have.

That silent, unseen friend rushed to her aid. Aurora’s elbow came to the table with a clunk. Her arm crooked and angled towards her face as she rubbed the pads of her thumb and pointer finger together. She eyed her father with contempt. “And what if I don’t?”

The king closed his eyes and sighed. “You have to. That’s the way this works. And I won’t have your ungrateful, spiteful attitude during their visit. Do you understand?”

Elek turned to her and chuckled, his vain grin reminiscent of his old buddy, Vasilica. Aurora glared back, then directed it back at her father.

“He’ll have to learn to like me for who I am.” He will. Otherwise that will be one damned, unhappy marriage. Or, he might end up…accidentally dead.

“No, you will have to learn to behave yourself,” her father barked back, leaning forward in his seat. “It’s one thing to embarrass me in front of the warlock, but it’s another to do it in front of my peers. You will be on your best behavior, and you will dress accordingly. Would it kill you to have some modesty?”

Aurora laughed. Her head turned down to observe the dress she had chosen for the morning, her hands combing over it to find the flaw her father observed. The dress made her breasts look amazing, perfectly supported while still hanging free. Lavender was a great color on her too. It made her skin gleam, but not startlingly so.

Aside from the obvious lack of flaws, his question simply didn’t make sense. Modesty was rarely enforced in The Hintria as it was in the other Jadar kingdoms. The loose, open attitudes of The Bard’s College seeped into Minnehil’s streets for thousands of years. Followers of The Creed abounded, but that didn’t exclude them from frequenting college orgies or pleasure houses, consuming intoxicants, or taking secret lovers. Even if it was an opinion held in secret, Hintrian men cared not for whether a woman was promiscuous. Some would contend that they secretly liked it. But Weavers forbid she wear nothing under her dress. How scandalous. She was a princess, after all, the daughter of a King close to the infinite’s heart, pledged to marry a man who, like her brother, fucked a whore a day.

She shrugged. “I thought Vasilica would like a better glimpse of his property.” Elek rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Her father was less than amused. “Is this really all a joke to you?”

“Of course not, Father. Not at all.”

“I should hope not,” he sneered, lips quivering in anger and mourning. “Your mother would be appalled.”

Don’t bring her into this, you sick fuck. She’d be appalled that you’re using her to manipulate me into submission. I’m grieving, too, and you use it against me.

Aurora grimaced, gritting her teeth. Don’t bring her into this, you sick fuck. She’d be appalled that you’re using her to manipulate me into submission again. I’m grieving, too, and you use it against me. She hated her father for the way he capitalized on her death, claiming to be heavily bereaved while raping chambermaids and treating her so harshly. What will it take for you to see we’re suffering, too? What will it take for you to see that you grieve her spirit far more than her departed spirit grieves yours?

“At me?” Her face tightened with anger. “Or you?”

Her father’s eyes went wide. I know, right? The audacity of a woman to talk back to you — Rikard, King of The Old Kingdom.

“At me?” He scoffed, multiple times. The question hit him deep, regardless of what it awakened. Likely more manipulation. “I was married to her for twenty years, Aurora. I know her better than you could ever hope to. I miss her more than you could possibly know.”

Aurora glanced at Ester, who stood just off to the side, hands awkwardly clasped in front of her crotch as they were earlier. Do you, now?

If I were Queen…

When you are Queen…

A powerful Queen.

A strong Queen.

“…and she would have your backside over the way you’ve been acting. This stops now, or you can enjoy being locked in your room.”

Aurora had no response. Anything she could have countered with would not have ended well for her, likely ending in a beating…or worse. Being locked in her room sounded nice, but she knew all forms of entertainment would be confiscated so she could think of what she had done — even her journal, the key with it. She had been lucky to get it back the last time, after the things her father found inside. It was her mother, posthumously, that protected it from being thrown out or destroyed. Or rather, her memory, which forbid even her heartless father from dispensing with things associated with her.

Satisfied, Rikard relaxed. He ignored Aurora’s pouting and addressed the warlock now.

“My apologies for my daughter, Ganzig. It’s been a tough year, as you know.”

The large, brooding man waved a hand to dismiss the apology. “No apology necessary, Your Majesty. A mother’s bond with her children is a powerful thing, not easily parted with.”

His eyes darted to her, holding her in surprising solidarity. He seemed affected by his own observation, as if the concept of losing such a bond was familiar, all too familiar. Radical candor was found in that short sentence, her father’s desire to be validated completely ignored. It was perhaps her favorite trait about the warlock. Many Jadar, nobles, and royalty considered themselves as a special class, worthy of special praise and privileges. But he regarded them as no different than any other Telerian people, her father, as nothing more than another in a long line of mortal kings. Over a thousand years old, he carried none of the usual prejudices about himself. Thus, he brought refreshing honesty, caring little for anyone’s reactions, a jaded, exhausted strength unmatched by the rest of the court. Most notably, he seemed to hold respect for her, not as a princess, but as a human being — as a woman. Or is it pity?

No. Respect.

Ganzig held her gaze for a moment, as if communicating his understanding. A happy, relieved smile pawed from behind her lips. They were rare emotions in her, clamoring for a moment in the sun.

The warlock continued, turning back to Rickard and leaving Aurora somewhere between vainglory and swooning. Large and handsome, with skin the color of tarnished copper, he was a rarity even in Minnehil. She found herself drawn to him more after the look they had just shared.

“I’m sure the princess understands how important this day is, and will put on her best facade. For you.” He turned back to her and nodded. She made no gesture of recognition.

The king sighed again, pushing back his plate and grabbing his cup of tea. He took a sip. “Let’s hope so. Young and disaffected., indeed.” He chuckled, and eyed Aurora once more. “An apt observance, warlock. All too relevant.”

-

Ganzig shared Aurora’s distaste for the day’s proceedings, but not for the same reasons. Possessing all the rowdiness of The Hintrians and infinitely more tact, The Trisekians were perhaps the worst of The Jadar. Karaliska Palace was a venerable den of vipers, with Queen Roxanne as the most venomous of the bunch. Always with an ulterior motive, and strength in their numbers, The Trisekians moved as if the gods couldn’t touch them. Their secrets were carefully hidden behind locked doors, carried in hushed voices and moves in the shadows. While on the surface, they were idyllic and amicable, lacking all congruence.

Vasilica was no better, and as Ganzig had found out, often at the center of those secrets. He had the rampant, nearly omnisexual libido of Elek, with an even darker, angrier edge. Many years ago, in the dark of night, House Baciu had discovered an egregious defect in the boy: he was a split-soul. Under the light of the full moons, or from the fires of his anger, he shifted from man to bear, often rampaging or sulking until his form changed back. A well-guarded body count was attached to his name, both sexually and confirmed kills. No one outside The Order and House Baciu knew of it, and presumably The Sanna’s, who seemed to know every secret of note ever kept in Teleria. Rikard, and most importantly, Aurora, were none the wiser.

The welcoming party waited for their procession in The Lower Courtyard. Rikard was in the middle, wrapped in his white and navy tailcoat, the sigil of The Old Kingdom upon his head as the twisting, silver crown of The Old Kingdom gave the appearance of ram’s horns. His children flanked him. Elek, in a matching tailcoat, and smaller crown. Aurora’s new dress still hugged her figure tightly, made of navy blue lace and silk, embellished with sequins on the chest that glittered in the sunlight. Her crown was simpler, silver and sparkling with diamonds. No horns, but the countenance it granted her was darker than that of the men, encouraged by the navy blue cape that was wrapped around her shoulders, flowing back behind her a pace or two. She stood with stoic indifference, though her eyes and aura still said otherwise, waiting for her betrothed’s most anticipated arrival.

Benci, Rikard’s Lord Hand, stood next to Ganzig, just behind the trio. The short, gruff man was in a simple blue doublet with white tracings up the lapels, the horns of the hand pinned over his heart. Ganzig looked down at his simple, burgundy and white-colored cloth armor and shrugged, having long given up on trying to impress monarchs like Rikard and Roxanne. Riches and power weren’t compelling to him anymore, having long lost their luster after seeing them ebb and flow out of coffers like water for a thousand years.

The King’s Knights surrounded them, fanned out through the courtyard. The butt of their lances were planted firmly upon the stone, steel shields sparkling under the sun as it neared high noon. An additional line was added to the forces near the gatehouse behind them, all of them wielding crossbows.

The carriages came across the drawbridge and under the gate, turning so as to pull through the courtyard at an angle, leaving space for the others to pour in. Navy blue like Aurora’s dress, each one was adorned with gilded gold, with twin eagles touching wingtips at the very top.

One by one, the red spoked wheels slowed and came to a stop. Attendants hopped down from the rear and buckboards, lining up in front of the doors and gripping the handles. Taking their cues in silent agreement, they opened the doors in unison.

An entourage of Trisekian royalty and nobles stepped out, led by Queen Roxanne. The matronly woman was disturbingly resplendent, draped in a red velvet dress which had reflective, artfully inlaid, gold metal plates on her abdomen, neckline and shoulders, and long, drooping sleeves. A golden crown sat atop her wispy, whitening hair, with a large, square cut garnet in the center, flanked by blue sapphires that descended in size as they went out. Loving to flaunt their wealth, she wore two bracelets on each hand, a ring on her left hand, and a necklace. All of them gold, and all of them containing one or both of the two gemstones.

Like Rikard, her children flanked her: The Princes, Vasilica and Cristian in matching red and blue doublets, small coronets of gold and sapphire upon their heads; and the eldest princess, Sorina, graceful and beautiful in a flowing, red gown, with a tiara of gold and a single garnet center stone.

On the outer flanks approached Luca Dmitry, notable proprietor of copper and iron handicrafts among the elite, and Grigore Cane, the one who provided the colorful dyes utilized in every one of these startlingly pompous outfits. Behind them trailed Tatiana, Roxanne’s chief court mage.

They all walked forward with a foreboding presence as contingents of Brigada rounded out the flanks. Rikard and his children walked forward to greet them. The king smiled and bowed courteously. The Trisekian princes and merchants returned the gesture. Roxanne and Sorina finished off the sequence with a curtsy.

Ganzig watched Vasilica’s eyes wander over Aurora — quite immodestly, as Rikard would surely comment. His gaze was one that either felt inhuman or enrapturing, due to the color and design of his eyes: a gold ring around the pupils, the rest of it ocean blue with flecks of white. Aurora obviously experienced the former whenever he looked at her. The princess stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him or his objectification of her. Her composure and elegance was a shocking contrast to her usual demeanor. On her best behavior, and dressed to impress, she appeared almost regal and queen-like in her own right.

An image flashed before him, that of Aurora, wrapped in horrible, gut-wrenching power, dark and disturbing but undeniably, stunningly beautiful. She sat upon The Stone Seat, the throne room void of all light except for torches. A crown of gold and rubies was upon her head to match the red and black of her sexy, high slit dress. The image rushed to her face. Those icy blue eyes sparkled with foxy, scheming shrewdness, her mind and soul no longer her own. She flashed a sinister grin, and then disappeared. She was back at Rikard’s side, staring mindlessly out the main gates as she avoided Vasilica’s still wandering eyes.

“Roxanne,” Rikard said warmly. He clasped his hands and then hugged the Trisekian queen, exchanging cheek kisses. “So good to see you.

“Likewise, Rikard,” Roxanne beamed, glancing at Elek and Aurora as they stood by, prim and proper. “And oh, your children look so lovely. That Aurora really is quite a woman.” Her eyebrows pumped, stating the obvious. Aurora was a beautiful young woman, but maligned and mistreated, valued for her looks and womb, and nothing else. Roxanne seemed to hold a begrudging respect for her, though, evident in the words she offered in observation. “She reminds me so much of Imre. Vasilica is a lucky man.”

From his vantage point off to the side, Ganzig could see tears welling up in the king’s eyes as he turned and beheld his daughter. He nodded in agreement, slowly. “Indeed he is.”

Something about the expression had Ganzig’s skin crawling, though. Rikard wasn’t proud of Aurora in any sense. Nor were her similarities to Imre a new revelation for him. No, Rikard literally sees Imre when he looks at her, and yet, she is not his wife. His wife is gone. Aurora is a walking bittersweet memory, a source of pain, a clinging to the past that he will not let go of.

There was more under the surface that Ganzig withheld from probing. They were doors he wasn’t sure he wanted to open. He had seen that face on many men before, and what lay carefully buried beneath wasn’t something he enjoyed confronting.

Rikard turned then, quickly changing moods as he gestured towards the doors to The Keep. “Please, after you,” he offered to the group, stepping to the side to make a path. “We’ll make sure you’re settled in. But first, we feast.”

“Oh, you Hintrians and your indulgences,” Roxanne laughed. She pushed a hand towards Rikard as if to half-heartedly deny his invitation. “And always tempting outsiders to partake.”

“Not that we’re complaining,” Vasilica interjected with a smile of his own. His eyes darted once more to Aurora, who maintained her indifference.

“Ha ha!” Roxanne exclaimed, throwing her hands to the side. “Not at all. It’s so invigorating to just let go sometimes. Oh…how I’ve missed this place.”

Rikard’s grin grew. “Well, let go we shall. There’s wine and food in plenty!” he exclaimed to the group. “Please, you know where to go.”

With a nod and words of gratitude, the entourage nudged forward, along the basalt cobbles and towards The Keep. Rikard walked at Roxanne’s side as they continued their discussion. The children flared out around them, the merchants on the fringes. Ganzig was behind them, folding in between The Brigada and The King’s Knights as they merged into a single force. Tatiana did the same, boasting a disarming smile as she came to his side.

“Ganzig.”

“Good to see you, Tatiana.”

“As Rikard would say: indeed.” They shared a playful laugh at the king’s classic idiosyncrasy. Her eyelashes batted, hands clasped behind her back just like Ganzig’s. “How is he?”

Ganzig shrugged. “As good as a man can be after what happened. He’s thrown himself into his kingly duties, as he calls it. That, and every chambermaid he can get his hands on.”

“Oh…” Tatiana tsked. “Got a large crop of royal bastards on the way?”

“Not with the obscene amount of adhoura tea he imported,” Ganzig answered. “The Sanna’s made quite a pretty penny helping broker that deal.”

“I’m sure they profit quite well off horny royals. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t had The Duchessa put together a special harem for him yet.”

“He’s trying his best to keep it secret. You know, a respectable amount of time. For the children.”

“Oh yes, the children. Such a ray of sunlight in his darkest age.”

Ganzig chuckled, thankful that he finally had someone to share court gossip with. Especially one that was equally as entertained by it as he was. The group parted in front of them, The Trisekians off to the right, The Hintrians to the left. He turned to the woman and offered raised eyebrows to suggest her sarcasm was in good taste.

“Yeah. We’ll discuss that later.”

“Deal.” The woman pursed her lips into a smirk, eyeing him from across the table as they continued in single file towards their seats.

Ganzig took a deep breath, finally letting go of the tension he had been carrying in his shoulders, preparing for the next strain which was sure to come from the dinner conversations. They weren’t nearly as bad as he’d anticipated, though, mostly catching up from the previous year. Rikard shared fond stories of his late Queen Imre, which became tales told in tandem with Benci of his latest hunts and his newfound love of rare and exotic trophies that he procured via The Two-Cities’ Ranger’s Guild — evidently inspired by Ganzig’s own collection. Roxanne, ever the fan of treasures, was enraptured. She had given into Rikard’s coping, however, wittingly or inadvertently. The king had been visibly distraught as he spoke of Imre, with tears periodically dabbed away by his napkin, his voice strained and raspy. Treasures were happier. Treasures were distracting. Treasures were better, much better.

The merchants chimed in from their place just beyond the royal lines, shouting their desire to see the king’s collection later that night, commenting on the pieces he shared descriptions of as if there could be no greater prizes. Ganzig involved himself only as Rikard requested it, usually to provide his own stories related to the land they had been sourced from, the people inhabiting it, or a historical event it reminded him of that Ganzig had experienced firsthand. It was almost as if the king considered Ganzig himself to be a trophy. Outside of his own show and tell, he did the same as Tatiana: observing, listening, and eating.

Elek had traded seats with Cristian, at Vasilica’s request, giving them the opportunity to engage in their own conversation as the younger prince sat quietly poking at his food like both of the princesses that sat to either side of him. None of them contributed to the overall discussion in any way, nor were they involved.

As the meal wound down, conversation shifted at Roxanne’s direction.

“Rikard, what do you think of these developments in the central continents? The skirmishes in The Shedare, the Two-Cities chancellor being deposed by Lady Sanna, The Slavi Monarka reorganizing The Soldaty, armed and trained by The Nordur, of all people. There seems to be a lot of tension in the air, if you ask me.”

“Indeed…” the king zoned out, nodding as he contemplated the events of the last year. His bottom row of teeth tugged at his top lip. Time had begun to speed up for the man. For all of them. An endless, revolving slew of collisions and frictions was becoming the way of the world — or so Ganzig assumed the narrative inside Rikard’s head was going.

“Curious developments, indeed. I wonder if The Imperium is aware of the enmity brewing against them,” the king continued.

“Word is, they have a new Priestess. A prodigy of sorts. She may very well take the helm before too long, and she’s no older than Aurora.”

“Are you frightened by that, Your Majesty?” Ganzig interrupted. The queen’s head snapped in his direction. He saw a hint of the venom behind her stern, gray eyes. Twitches tugged at her cheeks and lips. Across the way, Tatiana watched in anticipation.

“Why, yes, warlock, I am,” Roxanne admitted coldly. Her voice changed to monotone. “I have nothing but the highest respect for The Vrilic Order. Though you are new to their ranks, you are familiar with their history and their contributions to Telerian culture, nonetheless. What The Imperium represents…is an antithesis to their work. It’s a strain no one wants, especially as we Jadar naturally hold quite close to The Nordur, politically speaking. You can imagine what a delicate balancing act that is.”

Ganzig considered her words, admitting to himself that there was some truth in them. The Imperium and The Order held themselves at odds with each other by default, a centuries-long schism stemming from murky accusations and a resentment that Ganzig had struggled to understand. The Jadar had been in a bind ever since, forced to be diplomatic with their powerful neighbors, all while being the most enthusiastic patrons of the very magical guild they hated. And, more recently, the not-so-secret supplier of mercenaries, all of whom were actively serving Brigadas.

“Of course,” Rikard assuaged her, resting a reassuring hand on hers to lighten her mood. “But what of this Priestess? You think she is a danger?”

Roxanne searched her thoughts, eyes reaching for the ceiling as she sighed. “They say she possesses power never before seen.”

“The Nordur are harmless unless provoked,” Luca piped up from down the table, sipping from a cup his smithies made.

“Yes, but when provoked, they torch everything in their path,” Benci muttered. “They are best kept in a state of content. I doubt this Priestess will amount to much outside their borders. The Nordur rarely go on the offensive with anything that isn’t an economic enterprise. As long as Two-Cities and the Nihen can keep their composure, there’s no need to worry about war.”

“I agree with The Lord Hand,” Vasilica joined in, he and Elek having ended their conversation in lieu of this far more titillating one. “The Nordur are best kept away from the battlefield. Let them do what they want on Hemland in the meantime if it keeps them happy.”

“And their vassals?” Roxanne countered.

“You mean Kmet? Or Brette? Or, perhaps you mean The Jinnan. No offense, Your Grace, but The Imperium’s vassals are not worth the paranoia,” Benci’s rhetoric silenced her for a time. The Nordur were always on everyone’s minds, but The Lord Hand was correct in suggesting that, with the exception of Brette, most of their vassals were less than influential. Roxanne knew it, too. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s looking for a fight with them. Oh, Your Grace, I hope you play your cards right on that one.

“We just want to know, Rikard, that in all of this, The Jadar remain united,” Roxanne said after the silence had gone on long enough.

“Of course, Roxanne,” Rikard assured her earnestly. “When could we ever be otherwise? How?”

“Exactly,” the queen agreed, satisfied. “We must look to The Four Brothers, The Saints, into Eyn Sof itself, for guidance and wisdom no matter what the world turns over. But oh, don’t mind me, I’m just nervous. That’s all. Call it getting older, but the world seems to be changing so rapidly these days.”

Rikard smiled, relieved. “Indeed, we were just discussing The Dalai this morning.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started on those blasphemers,” Roxanne sneered, shaking her head emphatically. “I can’t believe they have the gall to appropriate a faith that’s not even native to their own people.”

“The Creed knows no racial or political bounds, Your Highness,” Ganzig mocked, knowing Roxanne would take it as a serious, devout correction. What’s wrong, Your Grace? So unlike you to forget the faith’s tenants.

“Oh, I know, but the way they twist it to favor themselves above the rest of us. Typical Dunevastians. It’s a nasty cult if you ask me.”

“Speaking of cults, Silicia may very well be under the influence of one right now,” Luca interjected. The whole table turned to look at him. Even the princesses and Cristian were paying attention now. Ganzig glanced at Tatiana, jumping out of his body for a second as the sorceress raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Rikard attentively cocked his head as he considered the merchant. “You believe The Sanna’s to be a cult, too?”

“The Silken Dragons does have a strange way about it. The Talisman, too. Many are saying it, Luca continued, smoothing out the stubble around his mouth and cheeks before gesturing fluidly with the same hand.

“Yes. Indeed,” Rikard reflected. “I have heard that.”

Queen Roxanne scoffed so loudly half the table turned to look at her. She took back control of the discussion immediately. “And yet, everyone still readily gives that woman every last penny they have. Brothels and gambling houses always have a strange way about them. Fornication is poison for the soul, after all. A sixfold sin. I suppose it does make them a cult. A cult of sin.”

“Indeed. Indeed…” Rikard trailed off, notably distracted.

“Who cares if they’re a cult?” Elek cut in. “The Talisman is fun, and at The Silken Dragons, you can do almost anything you like. With anyone.”

The men looked about the table awkwardly. Luca licked his rose colored lips, sent fingers through his dark, oiled hair. Elek and Vasilica chuckled to each other as Aurora rolled her eyes in disgust.

Roxanne let out a revolting groan. “Oh, go on with it, already. We’re done eating and I know you’re all dying to run off to their wide open doors and legs.” She turned to Aurora, waiting patiently along with the rest of the group until the princess made eye contact to address her to speak. Ganzig noticed Rikard staring at her as well, having foregone his earlier glances. There was a sense of longing about his demeanor, disturbingly so.

“Boys will be boys, my dear,” the queen advised her. “You have to let them have their fun every once in a while or they’ll go crazy.”

Aurora returned the comment with an awkward smile. Tatiana and Ganzig locked wide eyes from across the table. Rikard dabbed his eyes once more and stood, sniffling.

“Well, I for one am retiring to my chamber,” The king announced. “It’s been a long day, bringing up lots of…bittersweet memories. Enjoy your night however you please. I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”

Rikard departed abruptly, prompting the rest of the table to stand. Chairs scrambled back, the creaking and rubbing of wooden legs on the stone floor. Aurora left immediately, servant and knights in tow. Ganzig saw Vasilica watching her, turning to Elek and making a comment. He received some curious reassurance — a smile, a wink, and the back of Elek’s hand tapping several times against his chest. The two walked off slowly, with Elek looking behind to make sure no one was following.

-

Aurora hurried towards her chambers, ready to have some peace and quiet. The sounds of the guests and other Palace activities had faded into the background as she wound her way through the northern towers, escorted by her two personal knights, and a servant who carried the tail of her cape. All were silent just as she was. Her feet made no sound upon the floor unlike the knight’s, whose boots stamped softly on the ground, dissipating rapidly and blending into the next beat, but the silk of her dress made soft whooshing noises with each step — the only audible sign of her presence in the hall.

They rounded a corner to mount the steps to the next floor, which were up ahead just a few paces, when suddenly, Vasilica appeared. He walked out seemingly from the wall, hands clasped behind his back and an annoying smirk on his face. Long, dark hair, slicked and parted along the middle, glimmered attractively under the torches. His eyes glittered, and nearly glowed. The smug grin he wore made him alluring, a note of bad taste beneath a gorgeous exterior, and a sign that his intentions were never pure — which they never were. Elek had obviously shown him the passages. But not, she hoped, that there’s another entrance into my room.

Aurora and her escort halted as soon as they registered him. The princess grimaced as she was forced to acknowledge his existence for the first time since his arrival. She had been hoping to avoid any and all interactions with him. He may have been her husband-to-be, but Aurora detested everything about the man. Worst of all was the fact that Vasilica’s ego bruised easier than a peach. The man would not be slighted or ignored by his own betrothed.

Such a bad taste. You betray so much, darling.

“I was beginning to think you forgot we were engaged.”

“Oh, believe me, Vasilica.” She forced a petty smile. “I couldn’t forget about that even if I tried. You wouldn’t let me.”

Vasilica ignored the slight. Instead, he grunted softly to himself as he undressed Aurora with his eyes. Aurora’s skin crawled under his creeping stare. There was not a romantic bone in Vasilica’s body, though he liked to think there was. He assumed his good looks, Baciu name, and princely charm were enough to get any woman naked. Whores, perhaps. But me? Or any girl of royal or noble birth? Not a chance. Not in Mystara.

“You look ravishing in that dress,” he said finally, with unabashed lewdness.

The attitude within Aurora turned. She realized she had power over the man, nevermind the lies he told himself to feel better about being such a loathsome prick. Aurora sneered. “I know.”

He had yet to remake eye contact, still staring at her hips, likely imagining himself gripping them firmly as he bent her over and joined House Baciu and House Gilles into a new bloodline. Vasilica smiled, chuckled, and then finally came back to a normal human conversation.

“Would you like an escort to your chambers, Princess?” He offered, suddenly trying to sound chivalrous.

Aurora shook her head, rolling her eyes. The nausea, the aversion that plagued her at the mere sight of this man was unparalleled. He was so blatantly foul, not even ashamed of himself.

“You think I don’t know what you’re playing at? I have servants and guards to escort me.”

Vasilica seemed insulted by her answer. He cocked his head and squinted. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I’m not a naive, submissive woman, Vasilica. Nor am I a whore. You mean to escort me into my chambers.”

Vasilica’s head bowed, and he smiled. He licked his lips as he considered his words — a rare trait for him. If he did more of that from the beginning, he would have had a much better chance of getting invited into her chambers.

“Yes, princess,” he admitted. “I do mean to escort you into your chambers. And stay there.”

Yeah, not a chance of that. But Aurora couldn’t simply tell the man no. She had learned that with her brother and father. Instead, she racked her brain for excuses, any excuse, to send the Prince away. Then, it dawned on her. Can’t have complaints if we’re too religious, can we?

“I must maintain my purity, dearly beloved,” she started. “Until our marriage can be rightfully consummated.”

Vasilica was unphased. “Either way, you are mine. Is it not right to claim things which belong to us?”

“I don’t belong to you,” she snapped.

“You are bound to me.”

Aurora scoffed so loudly her voice echoed down the hall. Vasilica did his best to keep a straight face.

“Bound. That’s a stretch. Forced proximity is more like it. Aren’t there better ways to entertain yourself, Vasilica? Might I suggest a whore house? Or, since you’re so rich and famous, I’m sure any of our chambermaids would happily accept payment in exchange for keeping you company through the night. It’ll be seen as a welcome gift after what my father’s done to them.”

Vasilica was squirming. A four day trip from Enia, cooped up in a carriage with his mother and brother had clearly left him without rational thought. All he had was a base instinct that gnawed at him like a rat.

“I don’t want a whore,” he gritted through his teeth. “Or a chambermaid. They’re for stress relief and having bastards, not for companionship.”

“How romantic,” Aurora patronized him. “Consider it companionship by proxy, then.”

Vasilica snapped. She could see it in his eyes. Her excuses weren’t enough. Her rejection fell on deaf ears. If you were Queen… the voice in her whispered. He’d be whipped. A handsome little whipping boy. She smiled, her heart warmed at the thought. She glanced at the knights beside her, who had stood silently, observing the discussion, likely cringing themselves.

“I hear you’re still walking around barely clothed. If at all,” he redirected, turning the guilt on her — as if it would work.

“And? You’ve fucked enough whores to know I’m very clearly not one. Haven’t you? Practicing your skills for when you finally get to penetrate your betrothed? You know my brother beat you to it?”

Aurora had him backpedaling, literally. Vasilica shook his head in denial, bouncing back a step or two on his heels before rushing forward, shushing her and grabbing her by the upper arm.

“Here. Enough of this. I’ll escort you,” Vasilica insisted.

“Seize him,” Aurora ordered her knights.

They grabbed Vasilica by each arm and pinned him to the wall, with one of their forearms resting atop his collarbone, driving him into it. The Prince was wide eyed, writhing and bucking against their superior might. Aurora smiled watching him, helpless, finally being shown his place.

“What are you doing? I’m The Crown Prince of Triseke, your sister kingdom and soon to be your kingdom!” He shouted angrily, spraying his saliva all over the hall. “Have your knights unhand me at once. This is an outrage! You don’t understand! Let me escort you, Princess. Let me stay!”

His rant died down, leaving him huffing and puffing. Aurora, surprised that her orders had been heeded with such haste and vigor, felt drunk on the power. Yes…the power of men obeying your every word. Even restraining a rich, powerful Prince, humiliating him in front of his future bride. This image, forever seared into her brain. The sword at his side, useless. His words, bitter and hostile, having lost his cool with the insult. A fucking child…not fit to marry me. Not even fit to serve me. A handsome little whipping boy was the perfect role for him.

If you were Queen…

If I was Queen…

She wanted to hurt him, truly. It’s what men like him deserved, believing they could trade women like property, breed them like cattle. Unable to have him whipped, she settled for pouring salt in the wound she had opened in his pride.

Aurora inched forward, smiling with glee as he glared at her. The power…fuck, this power.

“I may be pledged to marry you, Vasilica,” she started with a whisper. “But this isn’t Karaliska Palace. You have no power in The Hintria. Or over me. So you will not escort me to my chambers, or into them. You can escort yourself to the brothel down the street. I’m sure there are plenty of women there who will let you do whatever you want to them for the right price. But just a word of advice…” she moved in closer. Vasilica’s eyes were peculiarly irked as they glared at her. “Don’t end up like Chancellor Ares. Or do, if you please. I wouldn’t mind seeing you paraded and whipped through the streets of Minnehil in a frilly, pink dress.”

She stepped back now, admiring the way he raged at his powerlessness. Power. Oh…the power.

“Release him,” she commanded. The guards unhanded him. Vasilica stood and readjusted his red and blue doublet before clutching the pommel of his sword.

Yes. Do it. The voice hissed. I’d love to watch them cut you down.

But Vasilica would not give her that satisfaction. Not today. He relinquished his hand, glancing nervously at the knights as he took deep breaths. Their hands remained on their own arming swords, ready to defend their Princess.

Their Queen…

“Goodnight, then.” Vasilica bowed awkwardly, then backed away, his angry eyes on Aurora as he gradually turned and began to walk.

The knights relaxed. One of them turned to her. “Shall we resume, Princess?”

Aurora stood tall. She loved the feeling of empowerment, of having men with swords under her thumb, asking her for their next move. Oh, to be Queen…

You will. You will be Queen. Soon…

“Yes,” Aurora commanded. “Escort me to my chambers. At once.”

“Yes, Princess.”

Aurora turned back towards the stairs, nodding to the servant who had yet to let go of her cape. So obediently, so proudly watching a woman defend her own honor.

“Watch out for any other unexpected guests, please,” she added as one of the knights moved forward. “Weavers know who else my brother has shown these passages to.”

“Yes, Princess.”

They reached her chambers after another minute. The guards posted up outside as she entered with the servant in tow…and all those feelings of power dissipated in an instant. Someone else had used the passages — her father. He sat slumped in the chair near the windows, looking out over the city, his back turned to the door. The chambermaids continued working around her with awkward, disturbed demeanors as they drew a bath, changed the bedding, and set out her night clothes. The looks on their faces made her freeze. Her heart sank into her stomach. In private, her father had been unpredictable since their mother’s passing. Obviously aggrieved, his moods were mercurial, leading to behavior that Vasilica would likely undertake if he had the impunity, behavior that Elek had pioneered. Something about the way he skulked in the chair left her terrified. These altercations were truly a nightmare scenario. Not even the knights would defend her. Not against their king.

But he doesn’t have to be king. It doesn’t have to be that way…

“For what it’s worth…” he began without turning around. “Thank you for behaving yourself this evening.”

Aurora ground her teeth as she answered. “Glad to know you prefer me quiet and out of the way.”

He clicked his tongue and stood from the chair, shoving it to the side rather aggressively as he turned around. Aurora flinched and stepped back. Then, realizing she had ceded ground, nudged herself back forward, taking an extra step for good measure. The chambermaids did their best to ignore him.

“It’s not how I prefer you, Aurora.” His voice raised. “I would love to see you take up your mother’s legacy, adding to the court instead of regarding it with your usual contempt!”

“It’s not the court I have contempt for.” It’s the men in it. Her face was harsher than it should have been, the words she spoke were as well. But she didn’t care. She was tired of feeling afraid, pushed around like she had no ownership, no agency over herself.

Her father’s eyes welled with tears. His face twitched with sadness, cheeks and lips and all. Sniffles took the place of sighs and deep breaths. He took a half step back and then returned.

“You have contempt for me?” he asked with a shaky voice. “Your own father?”

Aurora felt a twinge of regret from how much she had stung him. Somewhere inside her, she still had love for her father. Somewhere deep down. Over the last year, he simply wasn’t the man, the father, he used to be. The memories they made playing hide and seek in the gardens were replaced by harsh scoldings, beatings, and locking her in her chambers when she misbehaved, often with him joining her. The sweet kisses and hugs had turned to things that were unnatural and degrading. Elek had resumed taking advantage of her, too, and her father did nothing to stop it. She had no guardian but herself. Everyone served the great king, Rikard. Elek was his heir. And what was she? Just a princess who had the audacity to show the same grief, the same sadness, the same emptiness. A daughter with no mother to love her, to guide her through the nasty world of politics men like Elek and her father monopolized out of spite.

No, she was afforded no such privileges. She couldn’t be sad. She couldn’t be angry. And she hated it.

She gulped as her own eyes teared up.

“I have contempt for the way you’ve treated me since mother passed. The way you wallow, abusing the chambermaids, the way you abuse me — ”

He shot forward, taking Aurora by the shoulders and shaking her violently. “You will not speak of such things!” he screamed, before letting her go. “I have done nothing but love you! And you’ve done nothing but hurt me. You hurt me every day…your mother…”

Aurora was incensed. She’d had enough of this treatment. As far as she was concerned, he had all but abandoned fatherhood. More furiously, he had all but abandoned her mother’s memory. His head would be on a stick if she were here to witness this.

Fine, father. You want me to take up her legacy. Then, I’ll do just that.

She breathed shakily, but she stood tall, unwilling to bend or break. Her father channeled Vasilica’s same pettiness as they stared at each other, and Aurora twisted the knife.

“I will speak of them. Because you dishonor her. You dishonor my mother, your own wife, your Queen!”

There was a pause as her words sunk in. Then, Aurora was stunned as her father’s hand collided with her cheek. Seeing stars, she fell towards the bed, crumbling over the wooden sleigh frame. Her face stung as she caressed it. Tears fell from her eyes. She felt her father looming behind her, inches from her.

“And you need to mind your respect,” he scolded her, drawing out his words for emphasis. “I am your father, Aurora. You will not speak to me with such conceit, such lies.”

She turned and attempted to stand again, but he forced her back down, cornering her as he stood over her.

Oh…if I were Queen. You, Rikard, would finally know what real power, real respect, really are…

Aurora was hot with fury, but she was physically outmatched and outnumbered. Words were her only weapons now. She intended to use them for all they were worth. “Mother may have had my behind for my rudeness at breakfast. But if she saw the way you treat me…she’d have your head.”

Rikard shook his head in disappointment. “I came here looking to make amends, and instead my own daughter insults me. Uses my wife, her dead mother against me! Unbelievable.”

“You use her against me like a weapon every day!” Aurora shouted. “Forcing me ever closer to this marriage with Vasilica that even she detested…you know he propositioned me in the hall just now? Elek showed him the passages so that he could confront me on the way to my chambers.”

Her father shrugged. “Ah, who cares. You’ll be married soon, anyway.”

Excuse me, what?

“So my dress this morning was inappropriate, but Vasilica can just come in here and fuck me whenever he wants? Am I understanding that correctly?”

“Sleeping with your betrothed in advance of the wedding is a far cry from prancing around your chambers naked or wearing dresses that are far too revealing,” Rikard replied with startlingly confident hypocrisy. “Why do you think your brother is the way he is with you? But in any event, the agreement about you and Vaslilica cannot be broken if he sullies you himself, but it is immodest for others to have the same thoughts because of how you present yourself. You’re a princess, not a pleasurer.”

“Would The Patriarch agree?”

“The Patriarch will.” He nodded. “Because I’ll make him.”

Aurora grimaced. “Get out.”

“Fine.” He finally moved to leave, allowing Aurora to breathe more easily as the uncertainty was relieved. Rikard, however, stopped at the chamber doors and turned around. His face had changed, from angry to lonely.

“You do look like her, you know,” he said softly. “Your mother. She uh…the dresses, the lack of nightclothes. It’s not just a matter of religious temperance…”

Aurora suddenly couldn’t breathe so easily anymore. She began to feel as though she was suffocating after just finally coming up for air, with every bit of it being choked from her lungs by hands that had sought to violate her. He still hadn’t left, and now, he was talking like Vasilica and Elek did, placing desire where it didn’t belong, believing his power afforded him leeway on virtue and morality. Clearly, the emptiness in him had yet to be filled. Perhaps he really was affected more than anyone else by her mother’s passing.

But enough to think about replacing her with me? Is that really what you’re implying, father?

“Father?” she asked nervously.

“You look just like her,” he continued. “You act just like her.”

No. This won’t happen again. I’ll die before I let this happen again, or kill you. Whichever comes first.

“I think you had too much wine with dinner.”

Rikard sighed. “Indeed. Maybe.”

Aurora watched intently as he pulled open the door, hoping to every god imaginable that he’d walk through it and never come back. He paused again, looking back, and then finally left. Aurora felt a weight lift from her shoulders and chest and she fell back onto the bed, closing her eyes, her breath and heartbeat rapid from the fear she had kept under control.

If I were Queen. If I were Queen. Weavers, oh you cruel Weavers, what is the meaning of this thread you’ve created in my life? Why must you oppress me? What have I done to deserve this plight? Why must I endure such outrage? If this is a part of your story then you are truly the cruelest of masters.

But no. Don’t worry, darling, it doesn’t have to be this way. I will make it so. Ask, and you shall receive…

“Princess, we have a bath ready for you. It might help you…relax…after tonight’s events.” Rella interrupted her. The woman’s voice was timid, similar to Ester’s earlier that morning.

The princess sat up quickly, rising to her feet. She refused to sulk in defeat, to live as though oppression was her destiny. Nor would she allow her chambermaids to know the same fear, that same helplessness. They couldn’t see her like this.

Yes, so unbecoming of a Queen…

“Yes. That sounds lovely, Rella.” She smiled and moved to the armoire where two more waited to help her undress. “And send for Ganzig Enebish, please. At once.”

The door opened again. Aurora’s head snapped its direction. One of the knight’s entered and bowed. “Ganzig Enebish is outside, Princess.”

Aurora felt true relief for the first time that night. The knights may have ultimately obeyed her father, but the warlock answered to no one, and all the knights in The Hintria weren’t enough to match his power. He was, perhaps, her only chance at a meaningful ally.

“Great,” she replied. “Send him in.”

The knight nodded and turned to the side, gesturing for the warlock to enter. Aurora fluttered at the sight of him. It caught her off guard, prompting her to take her eyes off him and back on the mirror to watch Rella untying her dress behind her. In the three weeks of his service, she had yet to be alone with him — or so close to him. The energy he projected was intoxicating, evincing in her a startling, uncontrollable smile.

“Following me to my chambers, too, are you?”

“Just making sure you’re safe, Princess.”

Aurora smirked. “Is that part of your job now?” She glanced over at him. He stood awkwardly just inside the door, hands at his sides.

“Seems as though it should be.”

Aurora shrugged. Internally, she could barely contain herself at the prospect of having Ganzig on her side. Power, oh the power of having that man obey me, to use him to help all my dreams come true. Would he? Perhaps. Under the right circumstances.

“Well, as luck would have it, that’s exactly what I was going to call you for.”

Ganzig waited patiently for her to continue, nodding subtly, expectantly.

“I want you to put protective wards around my chambers, to make sure no one can enter without my permission.”

The maids slipped the dress over her arms, off her shoulders and then gradually down her body. Ganzig looked away politely.

“Uh, Order magic will — ”

“Not Order magic,” she insisted. “Karhai magic.”

The warlock glanced over, then back to the floor. He nodded. “Of course, Princess. Although I should tell you, that as the caster, I will not be bound by the effects of the wards.”

Aurora eyed the man with a raised eyebrow. “And is that something you plan on taking advantage of?”

“No, Princess. Of course not.”

She looked back at the mirror. The undergarments left her body as the other maid hung her dress in the armoire. Ganzig shifted uncomfortable in her periphery.

Aurora smirked. “I guess I can live with that.”

It was cute, the way he endeavored to avert his eyes, and a welcome contrast to men like Vasilica and Elek who valued her form as a cheap commodity.

Despite knowing little of the man, she felt safe with him. Safe enough to bare herself in front of him. The warlock could teach those men a thing or two about power…and respect. Ganzig could raze the entire palace in the blink of an eye, kill her father or brother or Vasilica or even Roxanne without any effort at all. He could paralyze her, her knights, her maids, rape her as long as he wanted, then fog her memory, over and over, using her for his own pleasure, without recourse. And yet, she stood naked just a dozen paces from him, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her.

Power…is in what is restrained, what lies dormant, expended only when necessary. For justice. For progress. For change. Not greed or pleasure. Not always, at least.

Power. It emanated from him like smoke, thick and intoxicating. He brooded in that corner, hulking, massive, and ancient, but with the countenance of a man not much older than her. Aurora felt increasingly drawn to it.

“Uh, Princess. Maybe your father was right about the modesty…”

She clicked her tongue, just as her father had at her. “Oh, please. You’ve lived for what, a thousand years? You can’t tell me you’ve never seen a naked girl before.”

“I have, Princess, but never one I was in service to.”

She chuckled, then turned to approach him. “I find that hard to believe. Besides, it’s nice to test a man’s virtue and have him pass with flying colors.”

Mere inches from him, the warlock held his eye contact quite admirably.

“I’m hardly virtuous, Princess,” he remarked. Aurora felt a nudge, a tug. Phantom sensations that indicated The Weavers, in their own mysterious way, had something in store for the odd relationship forming between them. The thought of it excited her.

“Call me Aurora,” she insisted.

“As you wish.”

Her smile grew. Power. I can feel it from you, and it’s building up in me. Obey me, my little minion. My father can have his knights. You’ll be mine.

“I believe you have some wards to build,” she reminded him flirtatiously. “I’ll be in my bath. Please inform me when you’re through.”

Ganzig nodded. Aurora left him. Rather than following her with his eyes, when she couldn’t see him staring, he got straight to work. She heard the cantrips through the walls as the chambermaids helped her into the warm water. Her body lowered, the silky, comforting sensation finally granting her relaxation. She laid her head back on the porcelain tub and closed her eyes, listening to the spells as Ganzig cast them.

#dark fantasy #epic fantasy #fantasy #writing #fantasy fiction #worldbuilding #fantasy world #high fantasy #indie author #fantasy series #web serial

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

When people take the accountability away from women and decide to place the blame on men like nearly most of the Modern Western Feminists™ for literally ALL of their problems, then they aren’t empowering women; what they are doing is basically relegate women to a victimhood, helpless position and make men have power over them by not holding women accountable for a damn thing. Ironic, isn’t it? 🤔  

#anti sexism #anti misogyny #anti misandry #text #like do these so-called feminists not realize wtf they are doing? #also they have devalued everything female-related and feminine so women wouldn't be valued unless they do something #'masculine' or 'male-centric' like....the amount of sexism in that logic is off the charts but it's perpetuated by people who want to #supposedly help women by reinforcing in them the idea that being a woman just fucking sucks that there is no escape from utter suffering #abuse trauma and silence and that their lives would be far better if they were just men #this is the shit women have been fed for years now #i'm fucking pissed #in their quest to 'help' women they end up fucking them over more than the 'patriarchal' system #when you relegate women to being nothing more than victims of grr Evil Men >:( then what the fuck you bitches are doing? #you are taking the power away from them and give it to men which is what the fuck a lot of y'all say you OPPOSE #like....the cognitive dissonance and contradictions are incredible #god the more i read about their ideology the more i realize how fucking full of shit western feminism really is #western feminists don't even help women they just use us for ideology and attacking Evool Mens >>:((( #fuck them this is why i don't fuck the modern feminist movement it's full of a lot of bs and rampant misogyny aside from misandry #when you really analyze a lot of the viewponts they hold of womanhood and femininity #which they think is inherently patriarchal traumatizing and evil like wow ok misogynist #i don't fuck with sexists that's why i don't fuck with a lot of this so-called female empowerment movement when it tells women #they need to stfu and learn their place IF they dare to have a different opinion and just accept the fact that they are women and that's a #very horrible thing because of all the shitty things that come with it #what a great way to empower women... #🙄🙄🙄🙄

[so-writing]

The Ghost of You - Matthew Tkachuk (3)

At the end of the world Or the last thing I see You are never coming home

*

He tried to plead his case, tried to play the blonde off as some old friend he hadn’t seen in years but you weren’t stupid.

“I’m not going to marry you,” you were solid while he was on the verge of crumbling because he’d finally been caught, “and I’m moving out.”

His cries of ‘sorry baby’ and ‘i didn’t mean it’ and ‘i never meant to hurt you’ because ‘i love you’ followed you through your shared home as you packed up your things. All Matt could do was watch you pack and try to plead his case, one that was falling on deaf ears.

“Please,” he dropped to his knees on the front porch of your shared home, “please don’t leave. I know I’ve been a fucking piece of shit but I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. I don’t what to fucking do without you.”

That sounds like a you problem, Matthew Tkachuk.

You shrugged your shoulders and turned away from the man you once thought was your soulmate. 

*

It was absolutely a ‘him’ problem, something he learned way too late. 

Matthew buried his sadness over your breakup in random women and none of them made him feel any better. Eight months had passed and the only thing he did was up his body count exponentially. He missed, he loved you, he realized he fucked up. 

He needed you. Matthew Tkachuk needed to get you back.

“Just fucking call her,” Elias was less than helpful when it came to Matt’s quest to get his girl, “if she doesn’t answer, leave a message.” 

You didn’t answer, and despite his friend’s advice, Matt didn’t leave a message. He couldn’t because he was the reason you were somewhere far away from him, not bothering to answer his calls. 

Still, despite everything, he remained a tiny bit hopeful. Maybe you would forgive him just a little, just enough to let him in a little bit. That was all he wanted, the tiniest amount of your time to try and win you back. 

Enough time passed that he started to lose hope until it finally happened. 

“Call her,” his sister urged, “it’s been months, if you’re not comfortable with a phone call, send a text message. You’ve gotta stop moping and either get her back or get over her.”

She was right, she was always right, but Matthew was scared so he opted for the text message.

Hey. I hope you’re doing well. 

“How was that?”

“Decent for a first text but if she hasn’t blocked you yet, she probably will now. Send another one, tell her how you feel, don’t be too intense though.”

I miss you. I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you but I know I fucked up. I meant it when I proposed. You’re the one.

“Was that too intense?” 

Taryn rolled her eyes but a smile played at her lips, “kind of, but it’ll definitely make waves.” 

“You miss her too?” 

“Yeah,” she answered honestly, “a lot. I wish you hadn’t been such a piece of shit.” 

“I know. I do too. Hindsight, right?”

“Yep, definitely twenty-twenty.”

*

The text message from Matthew made you dizzy. It was the last thing you ever expected to hear, but if you were being honest with yourself, it was the only thing you wanted. You fell in love with Matthew Tkachuk, flaws and all, because he was wonderful and charming and beautiful. He was everything you wanted and he was the person that hurt you more than you ever imagined anyone could. 

“Babe,” his arms around your waist pulled you out of your thoughts, “you good?”

“Yeah, Tys, I’m good.”

You let yourself drown in the feeling of your new boyfriend, Tyson, but you couldn’t shake what you felt when you first read Matthew’s text.

Denver was treating you more than wonderful and Tyson Jost was more than you could have asked for. There was no reason to stir the pot, especially when it came to Matthew Tkachuk. 

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #matt tkachuk #tyson jost #tyson Jost imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

[docholligay]

The Green Knight: A Ramble Through the Field of Honor

So I talked in an earlier post very glancingly about the line “Why greatness? Is goodness not enough?” and how it fits into the idea that Gawain has no idea what true greatness looks like, and I think, dovetailing into that, we kind of have to talk about how Gawain is...not a great guy. 

And I’m not even talking about the way we begin the movie with him in a brothel, though I am going to use that to spring off here and talk about his conduct toward Essel. Knightly stories are full of these ideas of chivalry particularly around women, and I think Lowery is using Essel to make the point that Gawain is not doing that, not even remotely. Essel is a working girl, sure, but she’s also, as its shown throughout the movie, devoted to him, and cares for him far beyond his ability to provide for her. She even tells him that she has his gold, when she asks to be his lady, but she wants very simple things--to sit by his side at the fire, and have his ear, and be his lady. In full fairness to Gawain, I suppose, he never pretends even for a moment that he has any intention of doing that. Gawain is not interested in whatever he might owe her, because in seeking his greatness he utterly passes by this goodness. 

We see this again in “A Kindness” where he repeatedly tells the scavenger that he is “Just passing through” when asked if he is a knight, not dodging the question, exactly, but allowing the scavenger to think this untrue thing. The scavenger talks about how he has brothers out there, the wide field of bodies like the fallen trees, showing us the lumber that Camelot is built upon, but Gawain does not have a moment for sympathy or pause. He fails to see this kid as a human being, and the narrative allows us to glance over it too, fixated in the same way Gawain is on the destination and not the journey. 

Even when he is given instructions about how to get to the Green Chapel, when it’s been shown he has only the roughest sketched ideas of the way--and we can argue that the instructions may be false, but I’m not sure I think it matters--all he offers this scavenger, this BOY, is his thanks, despite being told he’s lost his family, was almost lost himself. He has to be shamed into offering a single coin, when Excalibur itself was offered to him when he needed the help. 

This goes back to the idea of a test, and of Gawain’s repeated failures to have honor, to be great. He can’t see that mercy and generosity are a part of what it means to be a knight, to bear that mantle of goodness that I would argue underlies the knightly ideal. 

This is why, when he’s captured and his things taken from him, he asks for the GReen Chapel and is told, “You’re in it.” This is a test as surely as kneeling before the Knight himself, and he’s failed, not only the test of generosity, but of courage, as he pleads with them that he’s not a knight, and he never said he was, and it’s true, that he isn’t, and so he’s stripped of all the trappings that make him a knight--his horse, his arms, his shield--because if he will not behave a knight, if he will not meet the world with the courage and honor he’s meant to have, then he may as well have none of it at all. 

Gawain is pretty much a world-class fuckboy until the Tale of St. Winifred, until he truly connects with the natural impulse within him in the form of the fox (More on this in a much longer later post) 

The tale of St. Winifred is his chance to begin his redemption, really the first time that he’s been willing to take any real instruction on the nature of becoming a knight--he sure as shit could not be bothered to listen to Arthur--and so this is where he earns back the axe. He earns back the right to even have this quest in the first place. 

I don’t know how much the audience knows about the tale of St. Winifred, but the details are changed from the usual telling of the story in order to support the themes of the film.  St. Winifred is also, in one sense, a tale of beheading and of virtue. That in upholding her ‘purity,’ she lost her life and her head. This is why I think it’s not actually a foregone conclusion that Gawain is spared at the end--I think Lowery makes the point that sometimes our values must be paid for in blood. 

The flexible nature of honor is addressed directly in Winifred’s story. From the beginning, when she tells him not to touch her, that “a knight should know better,” there’s a sort of restarting the clock on his ability to be that knight. He just failed the last test, but as people, we are not who we are in one moment, whether that is terribly virtuous, or terribly cowardly, but the accumulation of who we are in all the moments. Each story is the chance to start again, and that’s why you’ll see so much menton of his being a knight at the start of each ‘section.’ It’s his chance to begin this anew. 

In that way of, just tell the audience what’s going on, when Winifred is telling her story, of a man who came and desired to lay with her, and says, ‘Perhaps he was thee,’ that’s not just speaking to the sense of circles and repetition of nature in the movie--though not unrelated--but the idea that Gawain could be that man, could still, in a sense, choose to be that man. That he can always fail this test, too. 

“If I go and get it, what will be my reward?”

It takes you aback, just for a moment, when he asks her that, until we realize that we were all asking ourselves that too. Reading into the traditions behind knights and saints, I think we’re used to the idea that a boon will be received for dong the right thing, and Lowery asks us to evaluate all that in Winifred’s reply:

 “Why would you ask me that? Why would you ever ask me that?” 

Harkening back to when he didn’t give the kid more than just a single coin, and telling him, “my thanks”--does he really have the right to ask for such a thing when he couldn’t manage to reward kindness himself-- but also the idea that honorable tasks should be taken up for their own sake, and not in order to have a reward. Can you truly be said to be acting with chivalry and honor if you’re doing it for a reward, or even notoriety? 

Going back to my larger theory that Lowery is trying to bring forth the idea in all of this that there is no such thing as being a “knightly” sort of person at rest, while still holding that the decisions of a moment can cement the sort of person we continue to be, it makes sense that he would ask if we can say Gawain passes this test, if Winifred regards him. 

“Now I can see thee,” she says, because this is a baptism of sorts, and being a saint, she can only see a soul in clarity. This is the direct opposite to the moment that Arthur tells him he has mud on his face, this is in direct opposite to his behavior with Essel, this is him doing the right and kind thing for a woman, without a thought to reward, and in that, he is cleaned, and Winifred can see what’s underneath, the sort of man he can be under what he’s accumulated. 

ANd this is why he gets back the axe. It gives him leave to continue his quest, even though just a bit earlier, when asked where he was going, he simply said, “home.” But the show of the axe let him know that honor was not yet lost to him, that there was still a chance to be the sort of person he might have been. 

WHich, by the way, does not makes things clear to him still. Life is not that simple, and I am very very resolute on my idea that a lot of what this movie is about is about the journey of our own lives to meet death and live with honor inasmuch as we can overcome our own cowardice and shitty behavior to do so, and even at the end of it all, about to meet the Green Knight, asked why he’s doing it, expressing that honor is why a knight does what he does, and then, pressed, says:

“Honor is a part of the life I want.” 

This is Lowery pretty firmly taking aim at the old Arthurian texts, wherein honor very often good be a sole raison d’etre, saying that for most of us--and I would argue the whole reason Gawain is a fuck up is that he’s meant to represent most of us--that isn’t enough. There needs to be something more. 

I also don’t think, for all I’ve talked about tests, that Gawain’s cowardice with the Green Knight had to be the end of the story. I think Essel’s pregnancy, and his cruelty, was a test. I think lying about what happened in the Green Chapel and accepting a knighthood was a test. I think there are multiple tests in that little interlude, but you see, the problem is, the more you do something, the more you’ll do it. As he makes these choices, this more and more becomes the man he is, as these choices stack up like stones, it gets harder and harder to knock down that wall. This is why his green sash--his cowardice--has become a physical part of him by the end of that interlude, bleeding as he draws it out. 

Honor isn’t set, and it isn’t enough. Life is a confusing journey, rife with difficulty to do the right thing with consistency not because of outside influence so much as ourselves. Gawain’s great antagonist in al of this is not the Green Knight, but himself. Such as it is for all of us, as we TRY to be good people, and risk sometimes redefining honor, or greatness, what it means to be “a knight” in order to convince ourselves that it might be true. 

“Is this all there is?” Gawain asks, before the axe is laid down, and I want to give Dev Patel a lot of credit here, though I’ve mostly been focusing on imagery and story. I’m not sure this would work as well if he hadn’t made it feel quite as human as it does, when he says it. It’s the question I think all of us ask, as we contemplate our own deaths, our own struggles to even up with what was right. Is there no way of knowing what comes next? 

Life is a series of tests. A measure of honor. And what else ought there be?

On Doc and The Green Knight

#Green Knight shit #hi please enjoy two thousand words where I'm still not sure I said all I wanted to

[minor-solemnity]

Curiosity pt. 1

See, the thing is, Riddle is charming and polite and everyone loves him to greater or lesser extent, but he also has something of a reputation for refusing to let things go. His essays are all thoroughly researched, no stone unturned in his quest for knowledge; his friends all defer to him on matters that they really should be able to handle themselves; even the professors openly admire his determination and diligence in his pursuits be they academic or extracurricular.

You really don’t want all that focus and interest zeroed in on you.

Of all the things it could have started because of, its starts because of quidditch.

It’s no real secret that you find quidditch to be one of the dullest games to watch in existence. Well, in fairness, you find most sports incredibly dull to watch, but quidditch in particular - the players are so high in the air that you can barely see what’s going and they move so quickly that it’s pointless keeping track - is awful.

You wave your house flag around halfheartedly and wish that someone would hurry up and find the snitch already so the game could be over and you could retreat to the castle to do something actually enjoyable. Like stick pins in your eyes or something. “Oh come on! At least try to look like you’re having fun - that’s our best friend up there!” Marie cajoles you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Our best friend who just so happens to be the first ever female Hogwarts quidditch player. A triumph for witches everywhere.”

Marie, unlike you, loves the game. She’s gone to every match since first year, regardless of whether or not its your house that’s playing. You muster up a grin and nod. You can be excited for Stephanie. Stephanie is the best player on the team, on any of the teams, and honestly, it’s a fucking travesty that she’s only just been accepted to play on the team. You’re all in your sixth year, for fuck’s sake. “Stephanie is the only good thing about the game,” You agree with a grin, “And oh, look, she’s just scored another goal.” The crowd around you roar and you roll your eyes even as you join in with the raucous chanting that spreads like wildfire through the stands.

Slytherin loses the match. You’re not usually one for house pride, but you don’t deny that it feel incredibly good to sit down at dinner next to Stephanie who is still in her quidditch gear and listen to her gloat about her success. “God, did you see Malfoy’s stupid face when I scored for the third time? I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. That would have been funny. He’s been making such stupid comments for weeks about how the Slytherin team is superior just because their genitalia dangles down.”

“Surely that would make it less comfortable to ride a broom?” You ask, eyes wide with faux-innocence. Marie snorts into her pumpkin juice and Stephanie laughs, bright and infectious. “Seriously though, I’m so proud of you - you carried the team today and it’s about time that everyone recognised how good you are.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, would I? Doing all that research and making all those bribes for a game you can’t stand.” Stephanie says with a sly grin. “Preparing for your dazzling career in politics?”

“I hardly bribed them,” You mutter, a blush creeping up your neck. “It was just a matter of making a case that they couldn’t refuse. Nothing underhand about that at all.” And really, you hadn’t bribed any of the staff… Blackmailed, maybe, at a stretch. But bribery is not your style. “Besides, the British and Irish Quidditch League started letting women to play professionally over five years ago - it’s ridiculous that Hogwarts is so far behind the times.”  You’ve been following the news that some high powered donors to the League were threatening to end their patronage because hardly any women had made it onto the teams since the rule change, but how exactly were women meant to stand on a equal footing to the men if they weren’t allowed to play on the school teams? You’d just done what needed to be done.

Your conversation is interrupted by a polite cough behind you and you turn around to face Tom Riddle, looking as frustratingly beautiful as ever. He’s got his hand clasped neatly behind his back and is smiling down at all three of you pleasantly enough. There’s something about his eyes though - a tightness to the skin around them and a calculating inquisitiveness that you don’t like. No, you don’t like it one little bit. “Can we help you, Riddle?” Marie asks and you have to force yourself not to chuckle at the thinly veiled warning laced in her tone.

“I just wanted to congratulate Miss Kirkdale on the game today. It was well fought match and you played valiantly.” He says, nodding towards Stephanie who flushes at the compliment. You don’t roll your eyes, but its a near thing. Riddle’s good looks and charming persona is enough to get even the most strong willed girls in school to act like lovesick puppies. “I was just saying the other day how odd it is that Hogwarts has taken so long to let girls play on the teams, and apparently we have you to thank for the change of heart?” This, he addresses to you and, yes, that’s definitely curiosity shining in his eyes. Curiosity that you don’t want directed at yourself. Damnit. Why couldn’t Stephanie keep her mouth shut sometimes?

You direct your gaze just over his shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes. There’s something unsettling about having his attention directed solely on you. You feel far more seen than you like. “I hardly did anything. Just put forward a new perspective.” Which, well, you’re not lying. You’re just not revealing the whole truth. You chance a glance at Riddle and realise with a sinking feeling that he’s not convinced. 

See, the thing is, Riddle is charming and polite and everyone loves him to greater or lesser extent, but he also has something of a reputation for refusing to let things go. His essays are all thoroughly researched, no stone unturned in his quest for knowledge; his friends all defer to him on matters that they really should be able to handle themselves; even the professors openly admire his determination and diligence in his pursuits be they academic or extracurricular.

You really don’t want all that focus and interest zeroed in on you.

He hums in response, eyes lingering on your face. “I somehow find that hard to believe.” He quirks his lips in a small smile and you don’t look at his lips. You don’t. His smile widens. “Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’m afraid I should attend to Abraxas - he’s awfully competitive. Until next time.” With a final nod towards you, he turns and heads back to his own table.

His parting words hang ominously in the air. Until next time.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #minific #tom riddle x reader