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cinaja · 3 years

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Before the Wall part 53

Masterlist

A/N: It's been four weeks since the last chapter. I'm sorry for the delay. Life kind of got in the way, but hopefully, I'll have more time to write now.

----

Dear Kiko,

I hope you won’t mind me writing to you out of the blue. We hardly know each other, after all, but Drakon said you wouldn’t mind.

I have a request, and since you study magic at the university, I thought you might be able to help. I was wondering if you might know a way for someone to contact the deceased, or if you might know where to find something about it in one of your libraries or elsewhere.

All I would want is one conversation. A few minutes, that would be enough. I realize that this is an unusual request, but it would mean a lot.

For obvious reason, I would appreciate your discretion on the matter. I hope we’ll be able to meet in person again some time. We never did actually get the chance to truly talk to each other.

Yours,

Miryam

PS: Drakon says hello and sorry for taking so long with his reply to your letter. The Alliance is keeping us both quite busy at the moment, I hope you understand.

----

Dear Miryam,

I hope you know that this is my tenth attempt at writing this letter, mainly because I do not know how to address you. I hope I’m not being informal, but, well, you’re married to my best friend, so maybe this is fine. If it’s not, I’m sorry.

Regarding your request, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. There is no way to talk to the deceased, and if there is, I never heard of it. All I have been able to find records on in the library were resurrections, and even for that, information is scarce. Most of what I could find was more myth than fact, and as for the little bit of concrete information, there was nothing I could recommend to you. I realize I am in no position to tell you what to do and I hope you don’t see this as me crossing any lines, but I urge you in the strongest way possible: Stay away from resurrections. There is always some price attached to that sort of thing, and I do not think you want to find out what it is.

I am sorry for your loss, I truly am. And I understand why you might want this. But some things cannot be undone – you just have to learn to live with them.

Yours,

Kiko.

PS: Tell Drakon not to stress himself over the letter. You’re all very important and very busy, I get it. Since I’m far less busy, though, I might come visit for your Autumn Festival, then we can talk in person.

And seriously. Stay away from the resurrections. They are a very bad idea.

----

As it always does, the world moves on with dizzying speed, carelessly forgetting any tragedy within days. For all that Miryam wants to scream, wants to rage at the world for forgetting about Jurian so quickly, she can’t stop it. And loathe as she is to admit it, she, too, simply doesn’t have time to dwell on past tragedies. Not when there is the end of a war to organize.

The war is truly moving towards its end now, and there seem to be a million of things to be done, all of them immediately. The Loyalists seem to be reluctant to surrender, although their defeat seem unavoidable now, and the Alliance is currently trying to end the war with as little casualties as possible. Miryam sincerely hopes she won’t end up being one of those casualties, but all she has time to do about that at the moment is to do her job as well as possible and hope it will be enough.

Today, that means trying to find a way to get the Spring Court to surrender without a fuss. It should be no hard task, given that the Alliance managed to completely isolate Spring on Prythian in the past months, and Hybern, its biggest ally, is too busy dealing with internal struggle to assist. Unfortunately, Miryam has yet to meet a single Loyalist country that surrendered easily. Besides, Miryam still has the humans left in the Spring Court to consider, and make sure that they won’t end up caught in the crossfire. Shey and most of the other Fae don’t seem to care much about that, but Miryam does.

Standing on a lush green hill, Miryam looks down at the pretty white manor below. Roses are growing in the gardens surrounding it, all in full bloom. Miryam would have considered the land beautiful if she hadn’t been able to make out the figures working on the fields surrounding the manor. Human slaves.

The anger rushing through Miryam at that thought is unproductive, so she pushes it down.

“Disappointed that there are no mountains for you to blow up nearby?” Helion teases. He got chosen as her escort for today, mainly because the council felt it would be good to have someone from Prythian there for the negotiations. “But don’t worry, if it’s necessary, you can just settle for the manor.”

Miryam rolls her eyes at him, but the comment does manage to summon a smile to her gace “Are you ever going to let that go?” She asks as she starts walking down the hill and towards the manor. Their guards – the council’s reaction to the incident in Tehne and Prythian’s general disregard for Continental rules – follow a few steps behind.

Helion grins. “You nearly dropped a mountain on me,” he says. “I’d say I deserve some teasing.”

Miryam already has a teasing reply ready, but by now, they are in hearing range of the guards at the manor’s gates, and she instead schools her face into neutrality. The guards at them as they approach, and Helion replies with a cheerful wink at them.

Miryam settles for a smile that falls somewhere between polite and cold. “I believe your lord is expecting us,” she says. “Would you be kind enough to lead the way.”

The scowl of the nearest guard deepens, and as he inclines his head, he looks like she asked his to jump into a bucket of piss. He complies without a comment, though, turning briskly and stalking over the white gravel pass towards the manor. Miryam follows after him, Helion falling into step next to her.

High Lord Cadell of the Spring Court is waiting on the steps leading up to the manor. He’s dressed, thematically fitting, in spring green with golden embroidery, his blond hair adorned with a crown of flowers. His face is tight, mouth pressed into a thin line. Miryam offers a polite smile and the barest nod, even though she isn’t exactly in the mood for politeness.

“High Lord,” she greets.

He doesn’t return the greeting and only gives Miryam an accessing once-over, then turns her attention to Helion.

“Lord Helion,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

Helion offers a small smile of his own. “Not long enough for you to learn manners, it seems.” He turns to Miryam. “Your Highness,” he says, “meet High Lord Cadell of the Spring Court. High Lord, Princess Miryam of Erithia, leader of the Alliance.” He pauses, as if considering, then adds in an exaggerated fake-whisper, “I know Continental politics aren’t your strong suit, but you ought to know that she’s pretty important there. You should probably treat her like it.”

Cadell’s pale cheeks turn a furious red at the implication that his impoliteness was simply ignorance of Miryam’s station. His green eyes dart back and forth between Miryam and Helion, as if he is trying to come up with a reply but failing miserably.

Behind him, Miryam can see the manor’s foyer. Figures are standing by the walls. Human slaves, Miryam realizes, waiting for and order by their owner. A tight knot forms in her stomach as she turns back to Cadell.

“Are you planning to make us negotiate your surrender standing on these steps?” She asks.

Cadell’s hands curl into fists, and Miryam is sure he desperately wishes he could hit her. Being talked back to by a human is probably a new experience for him, and he doesn’t appear to be enjoying it.

“Come on in, then,” he snaps, voice biting. Without waiting for a reply, he spins around and stalks up the stairs and into the manor.

Miryam leaves all but two guards behind as she follows him, and the two guards that do stay with her and Helion are more for show than anything else. Helion has a shield firmly in place around the two of them, and should it come to a fight, Miryam is confident she can beat Cadell.

The High Lord leads them to a small, private study. He doesn’t have any advisors with him – apparently, he doesn’t want anyone around when he has to surrender to a human. Three chairs have been set out, and Helion pulls Miryam’s out for her before she can. She nods her thanks to him as she sits down. Cadell, still scowling, sits down on the opposite end of the table.

“Let’s get straight to the point, then,” he says.

By all rights, he should have first thanked Miryam for taking the time to meet with him and then followed it up with some pleasantries before slowly approaching the point of the meeting. He didn’t even offer refreshments. On the other hand, Miryam doesn’t particularly care for false pleasantries from a slave owner. At least his insolence sets the proper tone for the meeting.

“Of course,” Miryam says. “I assume you received the letter where I notified you of the terms the Alliance demands.”

“I did. And to make this clear right off the bat: I will not surrender part of my territory, most certainly not to these mortals.”

“Won’t you?” Miryam asks lightly.

“No.” Cadell leans forward on his table, face red. “These mortals are citizens of the Spring Court, and this is where they will remain.”

“You mean they are property,” Miryam corrects. “If they were citizens, they would be allowed to refuse work and leave the court as they please according to Prythian law.”

Cadell scowls, unwilling to meet her eye. He doesn’t manage to hide how much it irks him to have this discussion with a mortal. “If the Alliance insists, I will free them. But only under the condition that they remain here, in Spring, as workers.”

Miryam arches an eyebrow at him. “You realize that changing the label on slavery won’t make me like it any more, don’t you?”

“Your preferences aren’t high on my list of priorities,” Cadell snaps in a brilliant show of failed control. “I’m not going to let these mortals leave, much less just hand them part of my territory, and if you don’t like it, I suggest you get used to it.”

Helion snorts softly but leaves it to Miryam to reply.

“You seem to misunderstand the purpose of this meeting,” she says in a too-soft voice. “This isn’t a negotiation, you don’t get to make demands. You are surrendering because you don’t have a choice, because you are hopelessly outnumbered and backed against the wall, and I am here to accept that surrender.”

“But without my agreement, there won’t be a surrender at all,” Cadell shoots back. “You need me, and if you want me to play along with you, you better meet my demands.”

Miryam allows herself a smile. “That’s where you’re wrong,” she says. “I don’t need you. The Alliance doesn’t need you. We’ve already won the Spring Court, and there are more than a few people on the council who think it would be easier to simply kill you, kill your sons and put that youngest boy of yours – Tamlin, isn’t it? – on the throne. A seven-year-old would make a wonderful puppet ruler, don’t you think?”

Cadell is gaping at her like he can’t believe what she is saying. His face turns from red to white startlingly quickly. Then, inevitably, he turns to Helion, as if he is expecting help.

Helion merely shrugs. “Why are you looking at me?” He asks lightly. “I’m not even on the council. If you want to save your ass, High Lord, it’s her you should turn to.”

Miryam could have hugged him. It’s not unusual for the Loyalist Fae to try and ignore her in favour of whichever Fae accompanies her. It also happened when she was sent to Xian last week – only then, the Fae who had been sent along with her dismissed her just as much as the enemy leader did, which certainly made it more difficult for her to assume authority and get Xian to accept the surrender.

Cadell turns, unwillingly, back to Miryam. “You can’t kill us,” he says, more outraged than worried.

“Oh trust me, we can.” Miryam gives him a small smile. “But I don’t want that, don’t worry. I don’t like unnecessary death – which is your luck, since the council won’t choose to kill you without my say-so.”

In fact, the council won’t choose to kill him at all, with or without Miryam’s say-so. Killing the royal family of the Spring Court was never even up for consideration. The entire council – Miryam included – agreed that it would be unwise to have the leadership of a surrendering court executed this early on. Smarter to show leniency, make the remaining Loyalists realize that if they only agree to end slavery and play along with what the Alliance wants, they will get favourable conditions for their surrender.

Miryam is bluffing. She is bluffing with incredibly high stakes, because for all the self-assured act she is putting on, if Cadell doesn’t agree to her terms, she won’t have a sure way to get the humans out of Spring safely.

“And what is it you want,” Cadell asks, each word biting, “in return for your generosity?”

Miryam turns to Helion, who snaps his fingers and makes a contract appear on the table between them. “First of all, I want you to sign this,” she says. “It includes your official surrender to the Alliance, as well as an assurance that the Spring Court will never again own humans as slaves. All slaves currently in the Spring Court will be officially freed, compensated and then sent on their way to a new territory that will be formed on Spring Court land and is to be under independent human jurisdiction.”

Cadell laughs. “And you think I’m just going to agree to this?”

“Since I assume you are rather fond of being alive: Yes, I think you will.” She smiles slightly. “So that we don’t misunderstand each other: You are useful to me for precisely one reason, and that is that I assume you’ll be able to ensure that the humans here will be able to leave your territory and settle into their new homes safely. If you aren’t able to do that, I have no use for you, and I’ll tell the council to have you executed.”

Cadell tenses. Miryam thinks it might be the threat of execution, but his problem seems to be something else entirely. “Of course I can assure that if I want to,” he snaps. “I’ve got my country perfectly under control, I’ll have you know that.”

Miryam exchanges a glance with Helion, whose mouth twists into the barest hint of a smile.

“That’s good to hear,” Miryam says. “Then I can assume that you will be able to make sure the humans in your territory will be able to leave it safely. Should one, just one of them, die, I will assume it was intentional on your part and see you executed.”

Cadell tenses. “What?” He asks.

“Maybe your oldest son will do a better job. If not, then he dies and his brother gets to try his hand. And if he doesn’t manage that, then I am sure whoever the council decides to put in as regent for your youngest boy will manage. We were considering Helion – that way, he’d get some practice at running a court before one day taking over Day.”

Thankfully, Helion doesn’t show the surprise he must surely be feeling, since there was never any talk of handing Spring to him. “Sure,” he says with a dazzling smile. “I told you: Just skip the formalities and put me in charge right away.”

Cadell looks between them, mouth slightly agape, like he can’t believe what he is hearing. “You can’t…” he stutters, clearly enraged at the notion of having his court given to the heir of the Day Court. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Miryam asks lightly. She leans forward on the table and tilts her head to the side as she watches Cadell. “Tell me, My Lord, do you beat your slaves?” She asks. Her voice echoes throughout the room. “You seem to be the type who does, the type who punishes even the slightest mistake and delights in the suffering you inflict on others. Why would I, who grew up surrounded by monsters like you, not want to see you dead?” Miryam holds his gaze for a moment longer, then leans back in her seat. “You might wish to provide me with an answer for that question,” she adds. “If you make me think about it for too long, I might come to the conclusion that there isn’t one.”

Cadell doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything for a nerve-wreckingly long time. He simply stares at Miryam. For want of better things to do, she stares back.

If this bluff doesn’t work out, she will be done for. She needs him to agree to the contract now, or she will be left emptyhanded and looking stupid. It will become clear that she doesn’t have the power to have him executed whether she wants to or not, and then, she might as well hand the negotiations over to someone else because her credibility will be damaged beyond repair. Not to mention how the council will react if she returns without anything to show for, or what it might mean for the humans here if these negotiations go wrong.

“The High Lord is also close personal friends with Amarantha,” Helion adds into the tense silence. “His sons fight in her army.” He winks at Cadell. “You know how Miryam feels about Amarantha, don’t you?”

Cadell’s eyes widen in something like panic, and Miryam sees her chance. “You know what,” she says to Helion, “you are right.” She reaches out to grab the contract. “We’ll do it your way.”

Her fingers barely brush the paper of the contract before Cadell all but rips it out of her hand. “Wait!” He shouts, then lowers his voice. “Boiling Cauldron, I’m signing. I’m signing, alright?”

For a moment, Miryam wishes she truly had the power to have him executed. He would deserve it, she is sure of it, and she hates that she will have to allow him to remain in charge of his court.

“Wonderful,” she says, hoping he doesn’t hear her racing heart. That was close. Far too close. “In blood, please. It’s binding.”

Miryam is the one to tell the humans working in the manor. They don’t seem to believe her the first time around, something which Miryam understands all too well – she certainly wouldn’t have believed it in their place. If she remembers correctly, she only fully realized that Drakon was letting her go after he had left her alone in the desert.

“You’re free,” she repeats, over and over again, squeezing hands and patting people on the shoulders. She doesn’t know what else to say, and it’s all that really matters anyways.

Eventually, her words seem to register with the listening humans. Some cry. Some fall into each other’s arms, others drop to their knees. Miryam walks around, pats shoulders, tries to find words of reassurance. She stays for a few hours, talking to people, helping the humans choose their leaders and instructing them on what the next steps will be. She would have stayed longer, but they are, as Helion reminds her, on a schedule. The Alliance came up with clear rules for this visit: Three hours, and if they aren’t back after that, it will be an army that goes looking for them.

So Miryam says her goodbyes, including a sharp reminder to Cadell of what she will do to him should any of these people be harmed. Any anger she felt over him getting away unscathed has been momentarily eased by seeing the people she just freed, a reminder of what it is she’s fighting for.

With one last look back at the humans who are standing in a tight group in the centre of the foyer, Miryam turns and walks out of the building.

As they walk over the gravel path towards the border of the grounds, Helion grins at Miryam. “Congratulations. That was a damn-near perfect surrender you achieved.”

Miryam returns the smile. “Thank you,” she says, and does her best to ignore the voice in her mind that whispers that it won’t be that easy with Ravenia.

Bluffing her way to the Spring Court’s surrender, or getting the Xian empress who had lost one child and had the other taken prisoner only days before, had been easy. But Ravenia won’t fall for simple bluffs, and there won’t be any personal tragedy to ease her resolve.

“Nice bluff, by the way,” Helion says, before her thoughts can spiral further into worry.

Miryam winces slightly. “Sorry for the lack of warning. It wasn’t my original plan.” Helion waves her off, and Miryam adds, “I’d appreciate if you kept silent about my strategy during that negotiation, though. It would be best if the council didn’t find out about that detail.”

“It was a bluff,” Helion points out. “They’d understand.”

“Probably. But I’ve had some trouble with people misunderstanding my actions lately.”

And she really doesn’t want to see how certain members of the council would react to her pretending that she has the power to simply order the execution of an enemy royal no matter what they might want. Maybe they would understand it was a bluff – or maybe they’d see it as her assuming authority she doesn’t have.

They have reached the edge of the manor grounds now, and as soon as they pass the edge of the wards. Helion winnows them and their guards back to Telique. They land in one of the palace gardens, and Helion turns to face her.

“Do you want to go out for a drink?” He asks. “Celebrate your success.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Miryam says. “The Autumn festival is today. I’ll just report on our success to the council, then I’m off to Erithia.”

“Oh, a party. Nice.” Helion grins. “You’ll like the Autum festival. The food is great.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Well, then. Have fun.” Helion winks at her.

“Will do.”

Strictly speaking, she won’t be at the festival for fun. Her presence is a political requirement, and it will likely involve lots of small talk with basically everyone in attendance. Still, she is looking forward to it. Most members of Drakon’s court – her court, too, now – are pleasant to be around, and what she heard of the festival does sound like it will be fun. Besides, it’s the closest she comes to an afternoon off since… well, since her marriage day, come to think of it.

Miryam makes it back to Erithia by midday, with an hour to spare until the festival begins. If she still had to change clothes, it would be too short a timeframe, but fortunately, she was smart enough to already put on her dress for the afternoon for the negotiations in the morning.

She finds Drakon in his study. He is also dressed for the occasion, clothes red and gold and brown like a forest in autumn. When Miryam enters, he is bowed over a table, frowning down at the documents strewn out over it. Miryam reads the worry on his face easily.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

Drakon nods towards the papers. “I don’t like how some of these armies are moving.” He jumps to his feet and walks over to the map table. “Here, look.” He points first to part of the Black Land arms stationed at its northern border, then at Vallahan’s army, currently further east. “They are both on the move.” He picks up the figures and pushes them towards each other.

“Many soldiers,” Miryam says. Thousands. Ten thousands, actually.

“And close to our border,” Drakon adds. “Call me paranoid, but with the Black Land involved in this…”

“Yeah.” Miryam frowns down at the map. Expending soldiers to attack a single country at this stage of the war seems stupid, and she has never known Ravenia to be stupid. On the other hand, she has never seen Ravenia actually losing, and therefore has no idea how she reacts to that. Maybe her way of reacting to failure is to completely throw all sense to the wind. “We should bring it up with the council,” Miryam says. Frowns. “Tomorrow. Today, we can’t do anything about this either way.”

Well, they could do something, but Miryam would have to call an emergency meeting. The council would likely have her head over making a fuss without any concrete reason and the people of Erithia would be concerned over them missing the festival. Needlessly concerned, probably, since the odds are that this is just her and Drakon both being paranoid.

Miryam absentmindedly runs her fingers over the red embroidery on her sleeves. Red embroidery. That’s what she gets for not being able to talk her wishes for her dress through with the seamstress. (It wasn’t even her fault she missed the appointment, an emergency meeting with the council got in the way.) Just a month ago, she wouldn’t have cared either way, but lately, red embroidery always makes her think back to Jurian’s funeral.

She shakes her head, trying to chase the memory away. Fun. She is supposed to have fun today. It’s her first afternoon off, and she will enjoy it.

Drakon seems to have come to the same conclusion. With a sigh, he looks up from the map. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask: How did Spring go?”

“The surrender is signed,” Miryam says. “Cadell agreed to let each and every one of his slaves go – with any compensations of their choosing – and sign a contract guaranteeing that Spring will never own slaves again.”

“That’s wonderful.” Now, he smiles and squeezes her hand.

I’m worried it won’t go like this for the other countries, though. Certainly not for the Black Land, Miryam thinks but doesn’t say it. For one afternoon, she will let her worries be worries and simply live.

She forces her thoughts into a different direction. “The other humans were so happy when I told them.”

She takes Drakon by the hand and together, they walk through the palace. As they do, Miryam tells Drakon about what happened during her negotiation with Cadell. By the time they reach the field just outside of the city gates where the celebration will be held, Miryam is done with her account of what went down in Spring and her mood has become significantly better. Some things probably just feel far better looking back, once the stress of the moment is gone.

The field is freshly harvested, only little stalks remaining of the wheat that grew her. Another tradition, as Miryam has been told. Since the Autumn Festival is kind of a harvest festival, it is usually held on wheat fields. Of course, it is also a festival for Daín, who is one of the Fae’s most important religious figures. Miryam finds the connection a bit strange, but she isn’t exactly well-versed in faerie religions, so there might be something she is missing.

Up until a month ago, she didn’t even believe Daín existed – or the Mother, for that matter. Having been to Cretea and met the man who killed Daín, she had to change her mind on that, but that still doesn’t mean she’s about to start worshipping them as gods. Still, as long as it’s not being used as an excuse to enslave her people or sacrifice them to the gods, she doesn’t actually mind Fae religion. At least what she hears from Drakon seems pretty decent.

“What does Daín have to do with a harvesting festival again?” She asks, leaning in to Drakon so that the people surrounding them won’t hear the question.

She is nearly certain that he told her already, during one of her nightly sessions where he tries to explain all the things she needs to know as Princess of Erithia. The problem with those sessions is just that they are, well, at night, and sometimes, they are both tired enough that they hardly manage to keep their eyes open. If Miryam remembers correctly, she was particularly tired the night they covered Fae religions and her memory of the conversation is sketchy at best.

Drakon doesn’t seem to mind. “The Mother was inconceivable. And, well, she created this world for the creatures living in it, so that they might live happily, but that doesn’t mean that the people could easily understand her intentions.” He shrugs. “But Daín, he was Fae at first, and after he became the Mother’s consort, he set to work on making the world understandable for its inhabitants. He came up with the calendar and the measuring system, and –“ he points at the field surrounding them – “he revolutionized agriculture.”

Miryam grins. “Hence the connection to harvest.”

“Yep.” Drakon takes her by the hand and pulls her towards the long table that has been constructed right on the field. It is near-bursting with all kinds of dishes, most of which Miryam has never even seen before. “And hence the brilliant food.”

----

One of the things Drakon likes best about the Autumn Festival is that for the duration of the celebration, everyone is exactly the same. There are no class divides, no protocol to watch out for. In fact, people are actively encouraged to mingle with people they don’t usually get to talk to.

Drakon ends up sitting next to a baker from the city called Shili. They are a bit flustered in the beginning, but get over it quickly enough. It turns out their wife is working as a captain in Sinna’s army, and that some of the cakes on the table today were created in their bakery. Shili doesn’t seem decided on which fact makes them more proud.

They pick up one of the cakes, red and shaped like a flower, and hold it out to Drakon before putting it down on their plate. “The dough needs to be kneaded and folded a hundred times,” they say, and when Drakon looks surprised, they start explaining the process.

After a while, a blacksmith sitting on the other side of the table joins the conversation and soon, the topic turns to the art of creating Seraphim steel. Drakon does his best to talk to each of the people sitting close to him at least for a bit, but after a while, most people are done eating and start moving around, so his conversation partners keep changing on their own.

Drakon quickly loses track of time. He only notices how late it already is when Miryam sits down on the bench next to him, making him look up and realize that the sun has already fallen almost behind the tips of the nearby mountain range. The people around them incline their heads to Miryam in greeting, some even jump to their feet and bow. Miryam returns the greeting with a nod and a smile.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she says, turning to Drakon, “but I was wondering if you’d like to go for a dance.”

Indeed, people are already dancing on the fields all around and in the air above. Several hours ago, musicians started playing at the far end of the field, and they kept at it for most of the afternoon.

“Of course,” Drakon says, getting up. He inclines his head to the people surrounding them. “It was wonderful to talk to you. I hope we’ll get the chance again sometime soon.”

He links his arm with Miryam’s and together, they walk over to the dancing floor.

“I was going to ask an hour ago already,” Miryam whispers, nudging him in the side, “but you were so deep in conversation I didn’t dare interrupt.”

“Sorry,” Drakon says, although he doesn’t think Miryam actually minded. She is smiling so brightly her eyes seem to sparkle. Drakon smiles to himself, glad that she actually seems to be enjoying herself.

The musicians are currently in the middle of a fast-paced song, and Miryam pauses by the side of the dancefloor. “Not quite my pace,” she says.

Drakon nods. Miryam is a good dancer, but some Fae songs are written for people with Fae speed, making it impossible for anyone who isn’t fully Fae to keep up.

The next song is slower, though, and together, they step out onto the dancefloor.

“I was speaking to one of the priestesses earlier,” Miryam says, voice lowered slightly. “We ended up talking about Daín and she mentioned how he got murdered by one of his closest friends.” Drakon nods and she continues, “And, well, I didn’t want to ask the priestess because I didn’t want to start a discussion, but I was wondering if there was any reason you know of.”

“Ambition, I think. And arrogance,” Drakon says. “Gh – I mean the witcher who killed Daín was a follower of the Mother before his betrayal, and him and Daín were close friends. But over time, he became arrogant. He started looking down on the Fae and thought himself above them because of how close he was to the Mother and Daín, and he began to want more for himself. He was no longer content with simply serving a goddess and instead wanted to become a god himself. He thought it was his right, and so he used Daín’s trust in him to steal his sword and kill him.”

“And that was his only reason?” Miryam asks. She doesn’t bother to conceal her doubt.

“It’s the way the stories tell it.”

Even as he says it, the words feel hollow. He’s known Ghost for several years now, and he doesn’t seem to be greedy the overly ambitious type. And he doesn’t much like the Fae, yes, but not because he is arrogant. Besides, given Ghost’s stance on slavery, Drakon has been wondering for quite a while if there might not have been more to him stealing the sword than meets the eye.

“Did you ever ask?” Miryam asks.

Drakon shakes his head. He wanted to, but it isn’t exactly easy to discuss these things with Ghost. “You could try, though,” he says. “He’ll be more likely to answer if you ask.”

Miryam nods. “I will,” she says.

They keep dancing through the next three songs, and conversation turns away from Daín and Ghost. The third song just ended and they are both catching their breath when Nephelle appears between them.

She grins at Miryam. “Can I steal you for a dance or two?” She asks.

“Sure.” Miryam squeezes Drakon’s hand once before letting go and stepping back onto the dancefloor with Nephelle just as the musicians start playing the next song.

Drakon lets himself drop down to a bench and reaches for a glass of blue juice. He has just taken the first sip when someone sits down next to him forcefully enough that he nearly spills his juice. Drakon barely manages to keep his glass steady and turns around to the newcomer.

“Kiko!” He grins. “I thought you said you weren’t going to make it!” At least that’s what he said in his last letter, and Drakon didn’t know anything had changed about it.

“I’ve only got an hour,” Kiko says. “My parents aren’t exactly pleased that I bailed out on them on such an important occasion, but they could do little to stop me, and I promised I’d be home in time for the services. But we haven’t seen each other in forever.”

Spontaneously, Drakon throws his arms around Kiko and hugs him. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he whispers.

They haven’t seen each other since the wedding, and then, they hardly had time to talk. There are letters, of course, but Drakon rarely finds time for those, and anyways, letters aren’t the same thing as talking face-to-face. Before the war, they met at least once a month – and before Drakon became Prince, they saw each other daily. He misses that.

“How are you doing?” Kiko asks. “You look tired.”

Drakon shrugs. He looks around to see if anyone is in listening distance, but the seats around them are deserted. Chances are the other guests are keeping a distance on purpose, not wanting to intrude on a private conversation. Drakon turns back to Kiko. “It’s just a bit stressful at the moment,” he says. “Getting everyone to agree on a treaty is a mess, and trying to come up with what will happen after the war is worse. But at least everyone agrees that it will only be a few months, maybe half a year now.”

“That’s good,” Kiko says. He reaches across the table and picks up one of the sweet coconut cakes. “This war has been going on for too long already. I don’t know how much longer I could take this.”

Why? A very small, very petty part of Drakon thinks at that. It’s not like you are fighting. But that’s a stupid thought, ridiculous and useless, and he pushes it away. It’s not like the only people affected by a war are the ones fighting in it, and he never held it against Kiko that he didn’t volunteer to fight. Kiko and fighting never did fit together. (The same goes for Drakon and fighting, but it’s not like there was anything to be done about that.) The annoyance vanishes as quickly as it came, and Drakon thinks that he really must be getting too little sleep if he got worked up over something like this.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I just want it all to be over.”

Kiko nods. He takes a bite from his cake. Chews on his lower lip. He is unusually quiet, and Drakon is a moment away from asking what is wrong when he finally breaks the silence.

“I wanted to talk to you about…” He winces. “Well, first off: I didn’t get to tell you in person yet, but I’m sorry about Jurian. Truly. I never met him, but he sounded like a great man.”

“He was.” Drakon tries hard to ignore the weight that suddenly seems to press down on his chest.

Kiko nods again. “I hope you are doing alright,” he says. “And, well… I hope you and Miryam aren’t pursuing any… less-than-smart plans. Particularly in regards to any resurrections.”

Ah. So that is why he’s being so jumpy. Apparently, he didn’t find Miryam’s reply to his letter convincing enough.

“We aren’t. No need to worry.”

Kiko still doesn’t seem particularly reassured, which is strange since they both know that lying isn’t exactly one of Drakon’s talents. “I’m serious,” he insists. “Even if you should manage, there is always some kind of price to this sort of magic. Resurrections are not something you should just mess around with.”

“We aren’t,” Drakon repeats. “I would lie if I said we never considered it, but…” He shrugs. “We didn’t know if Jurian would have wanted to be resurrected or not. So we couldn’t…”

It had been Drakon who had come up with the idea, three days after Jurian’s funeral. It had been a rash idea, not really thought through, and Miryam had been quick to find the flaw in it: Even if they could resurrect him, which is far from certain, they might not be doing him any favours. Human culture views death different than faeries do, they are far more accepting of it and far less inclined to mess around with it. Miryam said that she probably wouldn’t mind resurrection herself if it was done almost right away, but neither of them knew how Jurian would feel about it, so it was off the table.

“I’ll admit, this was not the reasoning I was hoping for, but at least you’ll stay safe,” Kiko says.

Drakon does his best to chase the thoughts of Jurian away and almost succeeds.

“What makes you think we wouldn’t?” He asks, trying to steer the conversation away from Jurian. “Have you ever known me to be anything but reasonable?”

“Not you, but…” Kiko hesitates. “Please don’t take this as an insult, Miryam picked a fight with the most influential country on the Continent at what – eighteen? That kind of excludes being particularly reasonable. And that’s even without taking into account the stories they tell about her.”

“What stories?” Drakon asks, suddenly curious. He never bothered to find out what rumours are circulating about Miryam or him, but now that Kiko mentions it, he wants to know.

“Oh, lots of them.” Kiko grins. “Did you know that some of the Loyalists claim that she sold her soul to some ancient monster or god in exchange for her power.”

“Well, that’s just petty,” Miryam says from behind them.

Kiko yelps. Drakon, who felt her approaching a moment before she spoke, merely grins and shifts to make space for her on the bench.

“Hello Kiko,” Miryam says and smiles at him as she sits down. For once, she seems genuinely happy, and he is glad that she didn’t hear their conversation about Jurian. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Kiko’s red skin is quickly moving towards purple. He glances frantically between Miryam and Drakon. “He asked,” he says. “Drakon wanted to know…”

Drakon grins down at his hands. He can count the times he has seen Kiko this nervous on one hand – once, he thinks, after he accidentally set fire to the hem of the principal’s coat. But come to think of it, he has never seen Kiko having to interact with one of the high-ups in Continental politics, either.

Miryam waves him off, grinning. “Oh, I don’t mind,” she says. With a wink, she adds, “But for the record, I did not sell my soul to any higher power, good or bad. If you ask me, that’s just a bunch of Loyalists trying to talk themselves out of the fact that they are being defeated by a human.”

“Probably,” Kiko agrees. He already seems to be back to his usual confidence, now that he remembered that Miryam actually likes him. “This isn’t even the most outlandish of the rumours about you, though.”

“Oh, I know. I think a couple of years ago, people in one of the western Loyalist countries – I don’t remember which – were claiming I wasn’t a person at all but some evil spirit that was trying to wreak havoc on the world.” Miryam shrugs. “People come up with the wildest tales.”

Kiko nods and Drakon abruptly decides he doesn’t want to know what other stories people might be telling about Miryam. Or about him. It is kind of funny to listen to those stories knowing they are wrong, but it gets far less amusing when you realize that there are people who actually believe them.

Maybe Miryam feels the same way, because she changes the subject to Kiko’s life at university. Kiko promptly launches into a story about the project he is currently working on and how his professor nearly blew up the classroom during a demonstration.

“Of course, he didn’t get into any trouble at all for it,” he adds, “Apparently, magical accidents are only a problem when they happen to me.”

“Or maybe there is a small difference between almost blowing up a classroom and actually blowing up the new laboratory,” Drakon suggests.

“Traitor,” Kiko mutters and Miryam laughs.

Kiko’s allotted time for the visit is up far too soon and he has to excuse himself to return home. “I’d stay longer,” he says, “but you know how my parents are about services. If I’m late, they’ll be angry for at least a month.”

He hugs Drakon goodbye, and, after a moment’s hesitation, turns to hug Miryam as well.

“Come visit again sometime soon,” Drakon says, clapping Kiko on the shoulder one last time. Kiko nods, waves at them and walks off through the crowd.

Miryam leans against Drakon’s side. “Do you miss university?” She asks.

Drakon hesitates for a moment, then nods. Yes, he misses it. He misses the lessons and discussions, and the free afternoons spent on grounds with the other students. But most of all, he misses the lightness, the carelessness. Back then, he never knew to properly appreciate it, but looking back, it was a privilege to be able to live without any kind of responsibility.

“It was easier,” he says. “Less pressure.”

Of course, there were assignments to complete, but those were usually fun and it certainly wasn’t anything like being in charge of an entire country during a war.

“But with everything that’s going on, I don’t think I could have kept studying there either way,” he adds. “I don’t think I could have… I mean, it’s not judgement of the people who are still there, I understand, but I think I would have wanted to do something to help with the war.”

Miryam nods. “I understand, I think,” she says. “I also miss working as a healer.”

A few hours later, the festival begins to slowly calm down. The music stops and a crowd forms around the huge pyre that has been erected towards the edge of the field. Loud laughter and talking are replaced by quiet conversations, people shuffling closer together to make space for everyone.

Drakon stands at the very front, Miryam on one side and the Erithian High Priestess on the other. Neither him nor Miryam will have any active role to play in the following services, but tradition gives them the place of honour next to the priestess.

Once the crowd has fully settled, the High Priestess steps forward. She is wearing a red dress, the colour so deep it seems almost brown and woven out of the bark of a rare tree growing towards Erithia’s centre that makes it glow in the beginning dark.

“My friends,” she begins, “today, we have gathered here to celebrate the end of another successful harvest season, and to give thanks for what we were blessed with by the Mother.”

Drakon glances over at Miryam. She has her hands clasped behind her back and is watching the priestess intently, head tilted slightly to the side.

“This has been another year of war,” the priestess continues, “another year of struggle. The harvest has taken losses, but it is still enough to fill the storages, and so we thank the Mother for creating this world that gives us all we need to for living, and we thank Daín for giving us the knowledge to use it.”

The speech continues on for half an hour. Then, the priestess reaches for the torch that has been planted in the ground next to her feet. Next to Drakon, Miryam flinches ever so slightly, the movement only noticeable because she is standing to close to him. Drakon digs his fingers into the fabric of his coat as the priestess steps forward and holds her torch against the wood of the pyre. Drakon watches the flames lick up the wood and tries not to let his discomfort show. As a child, he used to love it when the pyres were lit, but these days, it only ever makes him think of death and funerals.

“Now, to honour Daín and all he did to catalogue this world,” the priestess continues, “let us each give one important date of the last year over to the flames so that it may be remembered by history.” With that, she pulls a folded paper out of the hem of her robes and throws it into the flames.

Drakon goes second. Slowly, he takes the piece of paper he prepared in the morning out of his pocket – it seems to weigh far more than any piece of paper has a right to – and throws it into the flames. Miryam follows his example. Then, they step back to make space for the next.

People begin to form a long line, stepping towards the flames one after the other to throw their papers in, each containing a note about one occasion in the last year that they hope will be remembered. Miryam seems to have already caught herself; her face is perfectly composed as she watches the proceedings.

“What did you write about?” Drakon asks softly without turning to face her.

“Jurian,” Miryam answers. She is still watching the people who are throwing their papers into the flames, and her face remains politely curious, but there is no mistaking the sadness in her voice. “You?”

“Me too,” Drakon says.

The pyre ceremony marks the official end of the festival, but many of the attendees stay long past it. As soon as the last person threw their paper into the flames, the musicians started playing again, and people returned to their dancing and eating. In other years, Drakon stayed past midnight, too, but today, it only takes one shared look between him and Miryam for them to agree that they will retire early. The pyre ceremony brought with it far too many memories of Jurian and left neither of them in a very festive mood.

Arms linked, they slowly walk away from the celebrations and back towards the city. Their guards follow several feet behind, well out of hearing distance.

“I don’t think I feel like going to bed already,” Miryam says.

Drakon nods. By all accounts, he should be tired since he barely slept the last few nights, but right now, he wouldn’t be able to sleep either way. His last conversation with Jurian is replaying in his mind, and it will just get worse if he lies alone in bed.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” He asks. “Somewhere quiet.”

Miryam nods. “Our usual spot? Then we could also use the chance to visit our friend there.”

“Good idea,” Drakon says. They had planned on visiting Ghost yesterday, but they had to cancel their plans because Miryam had to prepare for her meeting with Cadell and Drakon went over his proposal for the council together with Andromache. “I’ll go clear it up with the guards.”

“You’re back earlier than I thought.” Ghost’s voice appears a moment before he does. His dark hair falls almost to his shoulders today, and his eyes stand a bit further apart than usual.

“We needed a break,” Drakon says, glancing over at Miryam. Her mood seems to have lightened significantly since they arrived on Cretea. “And we had some time. It’s the festival of…” He trails off awkwardly, remembering a moment before he says the name that Ghost was the one who murdered Daín. He winces slightly. Well, this is awkward. “The Autumn Festival,” he finishes somewhat lamely.

“Ugh,” Ghost says, wrinkling his face in a way that doesn’t quite manage to replicate an actual grimace. It looks more like a piece of paper is being crumbled. “You’re still holding festivals for him? Don’t you have better people to celebrate?”

Drakon frowns at him, but doesn’t know what to say. Of course Ghost, who murdered Daín, didn’t like him. He could have figured that much out himself. It was stupid of him to bring up the topic.

“Who would you celebrate, then?” Miryam asks. She sounds genuinely curious, and Ghost immediately seems appeased. He really does like her.

“There was a woman I knew once,” he says. “Her name was Rashida. She would deserve a festival in her name.”

Drakon never heard that name before, and now, he is curious as well. “Rashida?” He asks, hoping Ghost will explain who she was. If Ghost knew her personally, she must have lived many millennia ago.

“Yes.” Ghost smiles at Miryam. “You would have liked her, I think. She was just as stubborn as you are.”

“I prefer determined,” Miryam says lightly. Drakon laughs. “What was she so stubborn about, then?”

Ghost smiles, almost fondly. Whoever this Rashida was, Drakon realizes he must have genuinely liked her. “Oh, many things,” he says. “She was Queen of the Black Land, you know?”

Miryam tenses immediately. “Very funny,” she says in a tone that makes it very clear that she finds this anything but funny. Drakon frowns at Ghost. It is unlike him to make such tasteless jokes.

Motions jerky, Ghost lifts his hands, as if in surrender. “She was human,” he says.

Both Miryam and Drakon freeze. Miryam catches herself more quickly than he does, and echoes, “Human? But…” She shakes her head. “The Black Land is Fae. It has always belonged to the Fae.”

That was Drakon’s understanding as well, and he always made a point to know as much as possible about the early days of their world, if only because of his family’s involvement in that time. But because of this, he also knows that the historical records of those days are far from complete, and that the past has the unfortunate tendency to be coloured by the interests of people in the present. So what Ghost is saying is… well, it certainly isn’t impossible.

Ghost lets out a harsh laugh. “Nothing in this world,” he says, gesturing vaguely, “has always belonged to the Fae.”

----

Miryam’s head is spinning. She heard what Ghost said, but she doesn’t quite manage to process it. The implications are too big, too world-changing. Miryam spent her entire life hearing that the current state of the world is natural. That, ever since that Fae’s goddess created the world for them, the Fae ruled and the humans were property. But now…

A human Queen of the Black Land. The world not always belonging to the Fae. It changes… Well, in the grand scheme of things, Miryam supposes it changes nothing at all. Even if this world had been made for the Fae, she would still fight for her people’s freedom. But it is still a validation of sorts, to know that her people have as much of a right to this world as the Fae do.

She turns to Drakon, grinning. He smiles back at her and squeezes her hand.

Still, she needs certainty. Needs more information.

“What do you mean?” Miryam asks. Her voice sounds raw and scratchy.

“Let’s just say that the Fae weren’t always kings and queens of this world. And humans certainly weren’t always slaves,” Ghost says. “But Rashida lived in a time when slavery had already spread throughout most of the Continent.” With a wink at Drakon, he adds, “And yes, Étaín was still around at that time. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions from that.” Drakon’s smile dims a little, but Miryam still has her full attention on Ghost as he continues. “Rashida was a slave herself for several years, until she escaped. She united the human states in the area that is now the Black Land and became its first queen.”

Miryam tries to imagine it – a Black Land ruled by humans. But no matter how hard she tries, all images that will come to her mind involve Fae parading through their beautiful palaces, humans in shackles, humans bleeding and dying. She feels a stab of pity for Rashida, whose country some ancestor of Ravenia’s must have stolen and turned into the nightmare it is now. She wonders if Ravenia knows that her country is built on the bones of a human civilisation, that her precious ancestors are no more than thieves.

Maybe she’ll tell her one day.

“When was that?” Drakon asks. He seems almost as excited as she is. “In the year one thousand? Two thousand?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know,” Ghost replies lightly. “Her and your ancestors had dealings with each other quite frequently. Although I suppose ‘dealings’ is a pleasant way to put her storming Erithia and chasing your ancestors out of the region for the next couple of centuries.”

“What?” Drakon asks.

“Well, that’s what happens if you try to own people as slaves, right?” Ghost shrugs. “Rashida wasn’t any happier about it than Miryam is, and I believe she did show your ancestors just that.”

Drakon doesn’t reply. He looks shocked, like he can’t quite belief what he is hearing. Miryam doesn’t entirely understand what is so unbelievable about it, but right now, she has bigger concerns.

“You said she united human states,” she says. “How… I mean… Would you tell me?”

Ghost nods and begins to talk. Miryam listens, trying to commit each word to her memory, still not quite believing that this is real. This is her history. A history that goes beyond death and suffering and slavery, some precedent of humans fighting against Fae and succeeding.

Only in the end, they must still have lost. “How long did it last?” She asks softly, not quite wanting to hear the answer but knowing that something must have happened to make things to change from the world Ghost describes to the one she knows.

But Ghost’s form darkens at those words. “I don’t want to talk about that,” he says. Then, without giving her a chance to reply, he vanishes.

Miryam stares at the spot where he was standing until a moment ago, shaking her hand. “Still, thank you for telling me,” she tells the empty air. She never quite figured out where Ghost goes when he disappears, but maybe he still hears her. “It truly means a lot.”

Then, she turns to Drakon. He looks… well, he looks like he’s unhappy about something, but trying hard not to show it. It confuses Miryam. She supposes she understands that it’s not pleasant to hear a story where your people are the villains, but it is still strange for Drakon to react like that. She had thought he’d be as excited as she is about the news about human history, not moping around because the Fae were once again the bad guys in the story, or because his country got an apparently well-deserved ass-kicking several millennia ago.

It is unlike Drakon to react this way. And Miryam doesn’t like it. But maybe she’s misreading.

“Do we want to go outside?” She asks. “We could take a walk. Give Ghost some peace.”

Drakon nods, not quite meeting her eyes. “Sure,” she mutters.

By the time they left the cave, door closed safely behind them, Miryam decided that she was indeed wrong: Drakon isn’t acting strange because he is upset over what Ghost said, but because he somehow seems to expect her to be upset with him. No matter how hard Miryam tries, though, she can’t figure out why he would think that.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, because it’s probably better to clear this up right away instead of leaving whatever-this-is standing between them.

“What?” Drakon asks, flinching slightly.

Miryam sighs. “If you were upset, I could understand why.” Although she certainly wouldn’t like it. “But you are acting like you expect me to be angry with you, and I really don’t get it.”

Drakon starts tapping around on his leg. “I’m sorry,” he says, which just confuses Miryam more since she has no idea what he is apologizing for. “I didn’t know.”

“I never thought you did,” Miryam says. She is getting more bewildered with each moment. How would Drakon have known that the Black Land was originally human?

“Yes, but…” Drakon shakes his head. “I just… I didn’t know my ancestors… I thought they were…”

Miryam blinks. Does Drakon really worry that she is angry with him over something his ancestors did almost ten thousand years ago? She knows that the Fae put a lot of stock into ancestries and who is related to whom, but even knowing that, this sees rather outlandish.

“Drakon,” she says, shaking her head slightly, “I am never going to be angry with you over something that happened ten thousand years ago, no matter whether the person who did it was related to you or not.” And she can’t help but feel that the only reason why they are having that problem is that Drakon can even trace his family back that far. Most people simply wouldn’t know if some asshole who lived millennia ago happened to be related to them. She sighs and reaches for his hand. “You aren’t a good person because your ancestors were. Whether they were saints or monsters has no bearing at all on what kind of person you are.”

Besides, she never thought that all of Drakon’s ancestors were good people. She gets that he did – pretending your ancestors were generally on the right side of history seems to be a thing most royal families do – but she never had any such illusions. She always thought that Erithia was likely involved in slavery at one point in history, and even if they weren’t, standing by and allowing it to happen elsewhere isn’t that much better in her eyes. And then there is the matter of Drakon’s father who was, as far as Miryam can tell, definitely not what she’d consider to be a good person. She isn’t going to bring that up, though, not when Drakon is just beginning to look a bit less stressed.

“Oh.” He runs a hand through his hair and smiles, clearly relieved. “I thought you might mind. Because you married into my family and all.”

Miryam is about to say that no, of course she doesn’t mind, but then, that wouldn’t be entirely honest. “If it had happened in living memory,” she says, “I think I would have minded. Not because of your ancestors specifically, though, but because I wouldn’t have wanted to rule over a country of former slave owners.” She hesitates, considering whether she needs to say something comforting or not. “You’re alright?” She asks, just to be sure.

“Yes of course.” Drakon shakes his head. Now, he seems angry with himself. “I’m sorry. You really don’t need to comfort me about this, that must be awkward for you, I’m…” He throws his head into the air. “Sorry,” he repeats.

Miryam doesn’t entirely feel like he needs to apologize this much, but at this point, it seems best to just change the subject. Fortunately, that’s what she wants to do anyways, since Drakon’s ancestors ten thousand years ago having been assholes was honestly the least interesting part of what Ghost told them.

“Alright,” she says. “So, about the rest of what Ghost said…”

“Yes.” Now, she finally gets the reaction she had been hoping for earlier. Drakon grins and reaches for her hand. “As soon as we are back, I’ll ask for some books from the library. Maybe we’ll find some historical records on this Rashida, or anything about that time.”

“If there were any, don’t you think we would have heard?” Miryam asks. Her heart is beating giddily fast and it takes quite some self-control to keep from jumping up and down in excitement.

“Well, not necessarily,” Drakon says. “There might be some historical documents or ruins that have been deliberately misinterpreted by Fae historians. But if we know what to look for, we could find something. And if we do, we could pass it on to some historians, see it published. And when news get out…”

“It would mean so much,” Miryam finishes for him. “I mean, the Loyalists would probably deny it, but for us…” She smiles, shaking her head. “It would mean to much,” she repeats.

----

A/N: I feel like I could say this after every chapter, but once again: A huge thanks to @croissantcitysucks for their help with and contributions to this chapter. Rashida was their idea, as well as large parts of the entire Ghost/Daín/the Mother story and the culture surrounding it and Before the Wall wouldn't be the story it is without out conversations about it❤

#the next chapter will be up more quickly #i hope #before the wall #miryam #jurian #drakon

14 notes · View notes

faerune · 3 years

Note

personality 1 - 6 , combat 5-8, favorites 7 - 10, relationships 3-7, background 11 - 14 for vera OR vanity 😊

— Vanity alignment lawful neutral and eventually chaotic neutral

MBTI intj — the architect; rational, curious, determined, versatile, arrogant, dismissive of emotions, romantically clueless and combative!

tarot card the heirophant; conformity, traditions, institutions, personal beliefs, freedom, challenging the status quo

zodiac virgo!

enneagram the achiever; success oriented, pragmatic-type, adaptive, driven and image conscious!

element even though virgo is an earth sign i’d definitely go with vanity being more related to air!

favorite song toxic by ashnikko is her go to fuck you jam and that’s valid.

favorite type of weather crisp chilly day after a heavy snow during the night! her family used to go up to a winter ski resort for vacations and she loves cold weather.

favorite radio station night FM when she’s trying to focus on something and radio pebkac in the meantime!

favorite pastime reading, fiddling with tech or upgrading things around her apartment, playing the piano, annoying judy when she’s trying to work, shopping!

who is the most important person from their childhood? her dad :(. she really admired him. she was the youngest and was a Daddy’s Girl to her core. always sat with him in his office when he was doing work, pretended like she was a big business man too.

what is the biggest lesson they learned growing up? oof. that in the end no amount of status or loyalty will keep you or your family safe. not even money can do that - but it helps.

what is their happiest memory? christmas when she was eight after her father god a big promotion at militech! they were spoiled with presents and it was one of the few holidays her family was actually all home for a holiday. it’s sad that most of her good memories with her family revolve around money/work/etc but it really does put her emphasis on success and wealth into perspective.

what is their most painful memory? the few days after her father died, hearing her mother so distraught and sobbing was really hard for her especially since she was only thirteen and didn’t know how to deal with her own feelings.

— Vera biggest weakness in combat she doesn’t have much stamina lmao. that and she doesn’t really have Muscle? like she boxes but she relies more on speed than pure strength. her against smasher is like the biggest challenge she’s had because he’s SO strong and can hold out for a long time so she can’t even tire him out before she does.

avoid combat or shot first? avoid combat! vera knows that straight combat for her without her getting the drop on enemies first is a toss up so she prefers to avoid it altogether if she can’t be sneaky.

threaten or charm? charm! she learned pretty early that batting her pretty eyes and flirting can get her a lot lmao. the free drinks are the best though.

lethal or non-lethal? when it comes to like civilians/workers that are just doing their jobs she goes non-lethal but corpo guards, gang members, etc people who like...would not hesitate to kill her she usually goes lethal with them just because it’d be scary if she’s sneaking and they came to and found her. so like 70% lethal, 30% non-lethal.

who is their closest friend? panam absolutely! it was jackie before that but obviously that...is not happening. she really admires panam’s ability to come up with these really smart plans when honestly vera just wings it and it usually turns out okay. they also have similar dispositions - if vera being a little more image conscious / ambitious / materialistic. they both value loyalty the most and that’s what really attracts them to each other.

who are their other friends if they have them? vera is a dumbass and had drilled into her head as a child that there’s really only you vs the world at a certain point so she has people she enjoys hanging out with but she really forms some like actual good close friendship she manages to learn how to lean on during the game and those include judy, viktor, misty, river, etc.

if asked she’d just kinda shrug and be like idk but they all are happy to count themselves among vera’s friends she’s just...vera.

what are their exes like? any significant ones? lkfgk. vera dates mostly...for fun and also loses interest very quickly - either because she’s protecting herself because she can actually see it going somewhere or just because she’s fickle. most of her exes are also not...great picks for a relationship. people who also have commitment issues, dangerous people, assholes, etc.

she’s had a few longer relationships but those have also ended badly due to cheating. poor girl just has bad luck and it kinda serves as an excuse for her to lock down more since every time she’s opened up slightly to the potential of a long term thing the people she pick show their true colors.

are they in a relationship? with who and how is it going? in a relationship with her ex-brain parasite 🙄. it’s actually going...shockingly well considering who they both are? honestly, the reason it’s working is because they’ve both grown so much throughout the game separately.

a little bit is also the fact that they both were basically forced to bare their souls to each other which is a mountainous obstacle in both of their past relationships.

they argue a lot but they really are just trying to figure out how to be...in a partnership like this where the other person knows you so well. they have a kind of intimacy i don’t think either has ever experienced and so their first response is to either fuck or argue with each other. they’re working on it and willing to put in the effort which is the biggest part. their bond is just intense - fights, loyalty, fucking, the lot of it is like dialed up to 11.

who are their enemies? corpos and c*ps are the main ones! vera tries to stay on at least semi-good terms with all of the night city gangs just because she grew up on the streets and knows it’s much better to have them for you them against you. raffen shivs also pop up as an enemy post-game since the nomads have to deal with them all the time.

#chuckhansen #asks #thank you airika!!! you're the bomb #i just did every other for each kiddo since i haven't talked about vanity much yet!#oc: vanity #oc: vera #vera is under the cut

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fandom-collective-writers · 4 years

Text

Reader x Jihyun Kim {MysMes} - Letters to Heal a Broken Heart

Title: Letters to Heal a Broken Heart Fandom: Mystic Messenger Character: Jihyun Kim Genre: bittersweet? romance Warnings: spoilers for his good ending! Intended Gender Audience: Neutral Audience Word Count: 2040 words POV: second person Other comments: no smut but im proud of this! please note that everything with the push back is a letter! i think its pretty clear, but i wanted to make sure it’s understood <3 Written by: @mythiica Req:

Dear –

I’ll admit, it feels a bit strange writing a letter for you, but my therapist recommended it. He told me to explain my emotions with words, saying it would help me become more confident.

See, the reasoning behind it, at least from what I remember, is that there is no pressure to think quickly. Writing allows a flow, a sense of movement between the words before you pick which one you wish to use. Talking is different because it follows a completely contrasting rhythm. To keep a conversation going, you have to speak rather quickly so the person stays engaged in the topic.

It’s all really interesting, and my therapist has given me a book over the fundamentals of other practices like this. I read half of it on the plane to Japan.

To clarify, I’m writing this from my hotel room in Tokyo. I landed a few hours ago and the jet lag has yet to hit me, so I decided to take advantage of this time to write.

I think you’d like it here – the sakura are in full bloom and I have three days dedicated to photographing the sea of pinks as they ripple in the wind. Until now, I’ve only seen pictures of the famous parks, and I never thought that I would be able to witness them in person.

I didn’t think I’d

I never conside

Ah, I should mention, I’m not allowed to erase or cross out sentences I start. Another confidence booster? It’s a bit sillier, but it’s meant to force me to say what is on my mind, rather than letting it fester. I’ll try again:

During my years under Mint Eye, my vision was narrowed, and I had only one duty. However, I am learning to broaden my horizons and expand my mind to encompass everything. The urge to explore bubbles in my chest, waiting for the moment to come out. There are so many chances to do anything, and I’ve got all the time to do all of it.

I’ve also realized that I went over my word limit. I have to stick to 300 words or under. Confidence booster #3! Express yourself with less words. Take a guess of how many times I’ve opened the thesaurus, looking for better synonyms for words? At least seven times in the past five minutes. It’s crazy!

For now, I’ll sign this off and try better next time.

よりご多幸を祈って

Jihyun Kim

PS, I’m practicing my Japanese! That says best wishes… I think.

नमस्कार

Hello and greetings from India! I took a long nap on the plane, and forgot to write. Although I’m only passing through, I ate some delicious food (that I should really try to replicate for you). India is absolutely beautiful – from the sunrises to the bustling markets to the colorful fabrics hung at every corner. I’ll inhale the air and smell six things at once, albeit, not all of them are the best, but I embrace it nonetheless.

More about what I’ve been doing: funnily enough, my phone died on the bus ride, but I made a new friend named Sunmi, and she was kind enough to lend me her charging cable. Instead of ending the interaction there, we spoke for a few hours at least. I learned she was traveling with her friends on a photography excursion. She gave me all the information, and I’d like to look into it when I have wifi again.

You wouldn’t believe what they’ve seen! Last year they went to Antarctica through South America. She got to pet a penguin! Apparently the company also takes people to Greenland and New Zealand – some places I’ve been dreaming of visiting since I was a young boy.

I’ll use my last 100 words to mention that… I’ve gotten a bit homesick. I miss the RFA – well, the people from the RFA minus…

Don’t tell Jumin about the company though, he’ll insist on flying me around with his private jet. I want to experience for myself. Saeyoung is somehow messaging me when I don’t have service? I don’t… understand. Anyways, I also saw Zen landed a huge international role (someone had a magazine on the plane). Otherwise, I hope Jaehee and Yoosung are well. And Elizabeth the 3rd of course. Send them my wishes.

I didn’t forget about you though! The keychain you gave me reminds me of home every day. It might have lost an eye, but I found a button and stitched it on. And I also wanted to ask you–

Ah, I’m over again.

Next time.

Jihyun Kim

Iyi günler! I am in Turkey now and actually writing this on a boat. The sun is setting over the horizon, making the sky change colors with every passing minute. It’s breathtaking, but I wish you were here with me. The other passengers and I take turns standing at the front of the boat, and I sometimes linger, trying to take pictures.

Good news! My vision is getting better. I’ve been taking some Greek herbal remedies, and the seem to be helping. Either that, or they have a wonderful placebo effect. Has that ever happened to you? To think something is working, but you’re just imagining things?

I apologize, maybe that stirred bad memories for you.

Back to Turkey: I stepped out of my comfort zone and spent a night camping. Honestly? I was terrified of doing so, but now I want to do it every night. It is the perfect temperature for hiking, even though I am a bit sunburned.

So many people have been commenting on my hair. Good things mostly, and I started styling it with a bit of gel to keep it out of my eyes. It feels good to look people directly rather than through a curtain.

What are you up to? Hosting anymore parties? I imagine that you are keeping busy, as always of course. My therapist said it would be best to wait messaging you until I return home. I nearly called you a week ago, but I didn’t want to break my vow. It’s like lying to myself, and I know better than that now.

Still, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming.

Sending love,

I’m genuinely angry, but writing to you always calms me. Someone stole my bag – I luckily didn’t have much in it, but your keychain… can you make me a new one please? Now that I don’t have it, it’s almost like I’ve lost a part of you. It hurts a lot, but then I wonder if I am being silly. It’s just a keychain.

Otherwise, France is nice. I didn’t want to go to Paris, so instead I traveled through the countryside to visit a few wineries.

Yes, I did… drink a bit, but I wasn’t impaired when my bag was stolen!

You would laugh at me if I told you what happened, so I will save the story for another time. Before coming to France, I went through Germany and visited some of the most beautiful castles I’ve ever seen. They all looked like they could be straight from a fantasy movie set, and I was convinced one – Neuschwanstein Castle – actually was.

I’ve barely written anything despite so much happening.

I got a haircut (finally), because it was becoming a hassle to tie it back at night.

One evening, I fed some stray cats and they followed me home.

And a drunk (?) tried to play cards with me. But he didn’t have cards. He was dealing an imaginary deck.

Other stories will have to wait until I see you again, and I feel better now. It’s okay to be upset, but it won’t hinder my trip any more.

Je t'aime,

Jihyun

Alaska doesn’t have a night.

That’s not exactly true, but it’s basically true. The hotel has special curtains that block the light, and it is only dark for a few hours.

It has been many miles since I last wrote, but I was caught up in visiting show after event after party after exhibit through America. Their art has given me a new perspective on point of view and emotions, so I hope that the ten camera chips I’ve filled with photographs will be able to convey the same sense of awe.

I’ve also been mistaken for an idol? Like – multiple times. Interesting to say the least, maybe I’ll say yes to the next person that asks. What should my stage name be? I’ll spare you the embarrassment and not share my ideas. They are all very silly and no one would believe me if I told them my name was Cam Ra. Do you get it? It’s bad, I know.

I’ll be returning home soon, unless I get distracted or impulsive and go down to California and Hawaii before coming back. I want to – it doesn’t feel right to return just yet. But that doesn’t mean anything about you!

Really, I think about you and everyone else each day.

Have you met new people? We’ll exchange so many stories…

See you soon,

J K

You pace around, waiting for the last guest on the list to appear. The party started an hour ago, but he still has not arrived. Then again, it has been three months since anyone heard a whisper from V, and you start to lose hope. Swallowing hard, you remind yourself that V is having a wonderful time exploring the world and finding himself.

Taking a handful of your dress, you turn and head through the doors to the main room. Jumin tries to pull Saeyoung away from Longcat, Yoosung explains his most recent surgeries to a group of nurses from his work place, and Jaehee receives many compliments for her majestic cake.

Everyone is happy and has moved on.

You hope V has too.

Maybe all the wishing and praying finally paid off, because you hear his familiar voice calling out behind you. It’s a long shot, but you turn around nonetheless, thinking it is a different guest.

Instead, you see Jihyun, wearing the most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen, running towards you. He’s carrying a folder filled with papers, but that doesn’t stop him from embracing you. He smells rugged, like his voyage has transformed him, but you rather like it.

“Jihyun!” You melt against his hug. “You’re.. Here… you’re here!”

Your squealing draws everyone’s attention, but he focuses on you and only you. “Of course I’m here. I missed you more than I can verbalize.”

His stance is open, welcoming, and confident, much different from two years ago. He is a different person now, brave and proud. Jihyun offers you the folder. It is strange to gift something in the middle of a party, but you accept it anyways, happy he has returned.

Jihyun’s heart races as he explains. “I wrote you letters every time I went somewhere new. These are just a few of them, really I have so many. But each shows something I’ve learned.” He takes a breath and laces his fingers with yours. “This is sudden, and I’m sure you will need time to think about it, but I’m trying something new: asking without being afraid. Over the past two years, I’ve… longed for you. Art has shown me the power of friendship, joy, perseverance, and most importantly, dedication. I want to dedicate my art to you, if you’ll stand by my side.”

You can’t find the words to express yourself because you are so awestruck. He truly has changed, but he has embraced himself and his life. Tears start to roll down your cheeks from the overwhelming surge of emotions. Jihyun brushes them away and presses his forehead to yours.

“I still have much to learn, but I want to do it all with you.”

“I’d like that a lot, Jihyun,” you whisper, captivated by his intense gaze.

“And I can finally say this without fear–”

You tip your head up, and Jihyun kisses you the next moment. His lips are chapped and the warmth radiating from his skin envelops you. He doesn’t need words to communicate it, because you understand perfectly what he is trying to say.

#mysmes #mystic messenger #mysmes v #mysmes jihyun #jihyun kim

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notdingalingalingalingrita · 3 years

Note

important question. what is your moral alignment. im thinking chaotic neutral

If i were a character so nothing actually had consequences i would love to be lawful evil because HOLY SHIT THOSE ARE THE COOLEST CHARACTERS

Schlatt, Alastor, hell I’m pretty sure Megamind is considered lawful evil.

Having like a logical and resonable plan with a specific but strange and disagreeable moral code is just!!! So!!!! Interesting!!!! Genuinley this is my favorite alignment.

AT THE SAME TIME THOUGH CHAOTIC EVIL IS SOO FUN

Just do whatever the hell causes the most destruction EXCUSE ME i can IMAGINE my badass villain outfit

Pointy sunglasses, half buttoned Hawaiian shirt, trademark messy hair.... just a guy blowing shit up cause he thinks its fun. IDEAL.

THEN NEUTRAL EVIL

Its not interesting like lawful evil, its not fun like chaotic evil, it’s just *evil*. Raw, unfiltered, evil. Can you iMAGINE MY VILLIAN SONG!!!! The eviler the villain the better the songs sorry just true.

Oh fuck am i going to explain why I’m in love with every single alignment and then try to figure out which one is mine???? .... maybe

Ok I’m DEFINITELY not lawful neutral. I have a pretty simple moral code where I try to consider everyone’s wants and how different actions affect the people involved, and as a sorta “cheat sheet” I imagine “if everyone took this action, would the world still be okay”. And although this sorta does dictate a lot of what i do, it’s not essential to my character. It’s the character I am in real life because I want to be good, but not the character I am if I were a fictional exaggerated version of myself because it’s not an intrinsic part of my personality. But!! I do love this alignment because it sets up for GREAT internal conflict.

I mean its about how someone doesn’t have their own wants but rather follows a learned code. Or someone who once thought they only cared about themself learning that community is important and clinging to it because they WANT to be good, not because they think they ARE???? Beautiful shit

TRUE NEUTRAL

The real “i dont give a fuck” additiude is gorgeos. 10/10. Is this me??? I dont think so. I kinda like it??? Like just the sexy “might switch up sides I’m bored” additude is alluring, but the pure apathy is something I don’t posses. I’m super gay for this alignment though.

CHAOTIC NEUTRAL

I’m pretty sure you were right about this one- if i was a character, I would ABSOLUTLEY have this alignment. It THRIVES on the absence of morals. FREEDOM! CHAOS! Its all about f u n. No process or government. No drama. No cares. Everything is fluid, everything is a distraction, everything is an oppertunity. The constant energy. Lovely. and honestly, what is so great about this is that when excecuted well, these characters DONT exhaust all paths they can take. They dont run out of adventures to have. They dont stop getting new ideas. They never reach the limit of projects they can take on. It’s immortality, it’s all i want.

LAWFUL GOOD

A brilliant character is a lawful good who hates being lawful good. Someone who’s says that they’ll finally break a promise or tell a lie but can’t. Someone who is attracted to the carefree chaotic lifestyle. And yet, they do best with order. A journey of learning that lawful doesnt mean serious and that systems can be more of a powerhouse than anarchy, a leader who’s excellent about what they do, a steady hand to drive their story. love!!

NEUTRAL GOOD

This is probably me in real life. Someone who does what they think is best and stays in the moment. No specific loyalties or rules to follow, just on a personal adventure to do good. It’s so pure and simple. I like these characters (quackity is a neutral good and he is my favorite person so what can i say) a lot. I don’t know if I’m allowed to compliment them since its how i self identify though ahah

CHAOTIC GOOD

“I dont give a fuck” but ALSO good and kind???? Just like that???? Just effortlessly????? FUCK thats AMAZING and THE BEST ALIGNMENT holy SHIT i mean. “I’m going to do the right thing, but not YOUR right thing. I’m doing MY right thing”. So. Pretty. So strong. The true rebel, the true protagonist, the true showman who has the entire world watching. “Idk might solve world hunger I’m in a good mood”. Its so. Imperfect. Like their motives are so flimsy its AMAZINg. Maybe they saved the world for attention! Idk! I love them either way! They reveal their cure for cancer in a shitty google slideshow and hook up machines they designed to throw roses at them when theyre done! They catch one in their mouth! A hero of the story who is happy with themself and uses their trust in themself as the core of their strength and i just. Love these characters. (Not as much as lawful evil but second best for sure)

Oh ps the slideshow on Julia will be out today, sorry I’m a bit behind school has been cruel to me

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redrosesartcabin · 4 years

Text

Hey peeps. I made yet another Oc for Gunmar to be associated with:

This is Merel Devlin Hecate. She’s a witch in the tales of Arcadia universe who is neither to be associated with Merlin nor Morgana. She’s neither really good nor evil, but still doesn’t hesitate to ask Gunmar to work for her when the time came. How’s she’s gonna do that? Well...

(Ps before you read the story: Since wizards hasn’t come out yet, I may not have written her accurately or some things might not make sense in the future. With that being said, I hope you enjoy my little story)

WARNING: A LOT OF SWEARING AND SOME VIOLENCE IS INVOLVED. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THAT DO NOT READ.

—————————————

Merel Devlin Hecate (Character introduction)

Merel stood before the circle she had drawn on the floor. Usually confident as she was, she tried to put on that very same facade she normally didn’t even have to force. But this time was different.

This wasn’t some quick demon summoning nor a fun little potion: she was bringing a troll back from the dead.

In Merel Devlin Hecate’s 1007 years of life, she had done a lot of questionable shit that got her almost arrested on several occasions by the good side of the wizard society and captured and enslaved by the bad.

She was neither really good nor evil.

She did whatever the fuck she wanted.

Both sides hated that, because whatever Merel planned either interfered with one or the other sides stuff. Or she didn’t participate in whatever war was going on at all and disappeared for a couple of years in a hut in the mountains and only came back when she caught wind that what she considered “Bullshit” had passed. The air clear again to pollute with new chaos she could create.

And she was amazing at it.

Merel had always just been a talented witch. And any witch or wizard that was talented at their craft took it upon themselves to make their own destiny. Be it evil, like Morgana, or good, like Merlin (though if he is as good as he praises himself to be is questionable).

And Merel? Well she decided she was tired of people and help whoever she thought was right at the time. Sometimes she would pop up by Morgana's- and sometimes at Merlin’s “Fanclub”. Both usually took her offer to help, since she brought so much to the table. They however learned throughout the decades and centuries to never fully trust her.

Merel knew they didn’t trust her though and she was fine with that. She knew she would get out of trouble somehow.

Until today.

After 1007 years of life, the time had come where she was unsure about what she was doing, and if it was going to work.

She was going to resurrect a troll. And not just any: Gunmar the black.

Gunmar. The. FUCKING. Black.

One would say she had lost her mind to try out such dark magic.

And what for even?

Well: She got into trouble. But not the usual “oh that one wizard/witch is mad” where she would just put together a little illusion potion to clear her tracks and disappear before anyone could even touch her. She was now officially wanted.

And not in the nice kinda sense.

Merlin figured out, after defeating Morgana, that Merel (apparently) assisted and befriended several changelings, which, indirectly, led to a successful construction of the Killahead bridge. The old man then got really sour over that and declared that she was an official enemy of the wizard state. And since Morgana is supposingly gone (at least for the time being) the wizards that assisted Morgana's cause were also wanted or already captured, so she wouldn’t get support from there either. Not for any money or sleazy trick in the world that she could give.

‘The bastard must’ve waited for a moment like this’, she had thought to herself and felt anger arise in her.

For all the evil shit that Morgana had done, and that Merel would never forgive her for, Morgana would’ve chased her down immediately, if she had been truly mad at her. If she would’ve ever figured out her schemes (which she obviously didn’t, or if she did, she did not much care). Morgana was straightforward; if she was mad at you, she’d let you know right away.

Merlin however, that little motherfucker, made it out to be like she was “so” neutral towards her, like she was towards him. They made deals if needed be and didn’t if there was no need and just didn’t talk at all. But now that little son of a bitch had all the power, he was out for her, chasing her down like a dog ‘cause he had the power now.

At first she didn’t know what to do. The illusions wouldn’t hold them off forever.

But now she had it, the perfect plan. She would resurrect, or rather summon, Gunmar, who would thusly be bound to her. She could control an evil, powerful bastard and scare the living shit out of Merlin AND regain her position as free witch back, whilst also kinda punishing Gunmar for his shit.

It was a perfect plan, but sadly complicated: There was no say if this would actually work.

Nobody had ever resurrected a troll. Except for Morgana of course, who had resurrected Angor Rot countless of times. That however was an entirely different story, since Angor’s soul was bound to a Ring that Morgana had created and could control BEFORE the first time he died.

Gunmars soul was a free one however. He died with his soul in his body, as a being only bound to himself.

But Merel would try to resurrect him from the deepest depth of hell to where he surely had been condemned to, summon him to be bound to her magic and do as she pleased with his being.

It’s what Gunmar deserved.

And it’s what Merlins hypocritical ass deserved.

He and his little, pathetic, servant-like wizard army deserved the biggest scare of all time, because one thing's for sure: Nobody fucks over Merel like that and would get away with it so easily.

She may be no Merlin or Morgana, but unlike them she was free, not bound to a cause or any expectation. There was no limit to what she could and couldn’t do, and she would use that to her advantage.

Merel sat down before the circle. The light of the burning candles illuminating her pale skin in a way that made the scene all the more mysterious looking.

As she sat down, her yellow skirt surrounded her legs in a silky smooth motion and her black, slightly see through crop top with the beautiful rose pattern and frilly sleeves accentuated her upper body perfectly: She felt amazing, even with the fear still eating her insides out.

“I’m ready”, she whispered to herself as she combed her black, long fingernails through her dark blue to dark red ombré, voluminous chin long hair.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before a language, long dead, slipped over her cherry colored lips. A mixture between Latin, Greek and something otherworldly.

The air picked up around her, picking up the candle flames, pulling them higher and creating a fire in the middle of the circle.

She finished her incantation and opened her eyes to the scene. Her hands still in the same position as before, since she still felt the magic being in the works. Any wrong move could break the process.

The fire disappeared in the middle of the summoning circle, forming a swirl that looked much like a portal to another dimension.

Half an hour went by in which nothing more than that happened. The swirl staid a swirl.

“Damn it, it didn’t-“, work she wanted to say, when suddenly she saw blackness appear in the middle of the circle.

“Wait...of course! I have to speak, so the soul can find me”, she realized, “Ey! Gunmar! Come on out motherfucker!”, she yelled.

Another minute passed, but finally, a body came into light. It was a formless thing, like a black thundercloud, bringing strong lighting and a storm. Slowly but surely however, big horns appeared, muscular arms, legs and upper body formed and beautiful carvings glowing in yellow and orange that got carved into him by what seemed like an invisible knife. His back and tail were facing her as he was kneeling towards nothingness before his head shot up and he turned around, finally facing her. His eye was glowing like the candle flames had and his mouth was turning downwards in anger.

She smiled devilishly in delight: It had actually worked.

“Bitch”, he spoke.

“That’s a nice greeting”, she commented and fake pouted as she added, “it’s not very polite to speak to your summoner like that though, after all: I brought you back from the dead or didn’t I?”

“I know who you are, Merel Devlin Hecate: I’d rather stay dead than be bound to you!”, he roared, trying to attack her, but was thrown back into the middle of the circle by the invisible barrier it provided.

“Oh now”, she smooth talked, her voice sounding like a mother trying to pacify her crying child, “don’t get yourself worked up. That can’t be good for a troll your age. Sit down and be happy to be alive again. Besides: I’m sure you’ll like my plan a lot”

“And I’m sure I won’t”, he rumbled

“Well then you’ll just have to live with that”, she now hissed, “you have no choice in this deary. You fucked up and died and now you’ll get this life and no other. You’ll get to feel what it’s like being controlled by something other than yourself like you’ve made so many other trolls feel.

You are full of shit Gunmar. Always have been. I’m sure you’ll cry like a baby by the time I’ve had control over you for more than a day take it worse than any other troll you’ve controlled ever has. You’re nothing more than a piss poor fucker who had some power in his lifetime, but actually you are just so scared of everything, that you need to show to the world, constantly, that you aren’t.”

Gunmar said nothing. He looked angry, yet also confused and at a loss for words. She must’ve hit a soft spot there.

“Nothing snarky to say? Did I hurt the big bad troll? Are you gonna shut the fuck up and just obey my orders and admit your defeat?”, she asked, her voice a little too cocky even for her liking.

“I do not admit defeat, because we did not fight fairly, but I will admit to my captivity.”, he spoke, his voice unusually soft.

“Ok. I can live with that. Now listen:...”, and so she started explaining to him, what her goal of having summoned had been.

“That actually isn’t such a bad plan”, Gunmar admitted and flinched at his own words. What had he become all of a sudden? A dog… that’s what. Not in a millennia would he have thought, that karma would get him like it did now.

“See? And you’ll get to eat some wizard flesh! You may be bound to me, but you are also protected. Nothing can kill you, because you are technically dead. You won’t get no eternal night, but you can get your revenge on Merlins supporters, who are also indirectly the supporters of the trollhunter and therefor his supporters. You get me?”

“I mean, yeah b-“, Gunmar had started countering, but got interrupted by Merel who simply said, “Good! Then we agree on that. Let’s get going, shan’t we?”

“Ah...uhm...Yeah sure”, is all he could say, giving in. Whatever he had wanted to say had slipped his mind and besides: What other choice did he have anyhow?

And so they went for the first kill.

At first Merel wasn’t sure if it would actually be that easy to make Gunmar kill the witch (she was one of the newer understudies of Merlin who took care of filing some script shit in favor of Merlin) she targeted without other wizards seeing him enter, but turns out her illusion magic worked wonders as always and they could slip into the facility and take her out no problem. She wasn’t the most powerful or most important witch she wanted to take out, but that easy? Really?

She did get surrounded by wizards as they found her and Gunmar before the corps.

“Eat her whilst I have a little chat with the gang”, she whispered

“Do not talk to me like-“, but before he could keep talking he felt a kind chain almost strangle him that had appeared around him shooting out of Merels fingertips in n a flaming motion.

“Deary, I can talk to you however I like. I got you in my power. This chain is always there, even if you don’t see it and I can control it at all times. Now behave deary and eat the kill”, she whispered, her voice sweet and sharp and cold.

Gunmar growled at that, but nodded compliantly.

“Very well deary. Eat. You did good.”

And that was the last time he talked back to her. At least like that. He of course staid the snarky asshole he was. She could deal with that though. All she really cared about to show who’s boss.

And just like one, she took the wizards before her out, one by one, only letting on stay conscious choking him, letting him float above her.

“Listen here Milky boy”, she spoke to the young, pale wizard in her grasp, “I have come to say I have managed the worst of the worst: I have resurrected a troll, and not just any: Gunmar the black. He had been shattered and torn, his soul condemned to eternal damnation, but I have summoned him. He is bound to me, my weapon, my killing machine and unless Merlin decides to surrounder, I will make sure, you, boy, and all your pity party fucks who support this poor excuse of a ‘good wizard’ will feel my wrath for coming after me! Now run along young wizard and tell the world Gunmar is back, and I have him in my grasp and no other!”

She let him fall to the ground where he rung for air before running off to wherever to whomever: But just away from her.

“And I always through you’re a part of that ‘pity party’ as you call it”, Gunmar admitted after having cleaned off the bones one by one.

“HA, Me?”, she cackled, “Under the command of Merlin? I didn’t know you were a comic. Now let’s get going before any important wizards get here and cause real trouble for us. We still got a lot to do!”

…

#Oc #trollhunters Oc #gunmar the black #trollhunters gunmar #gunmar #tales of arcadia #wizards #witch #artist on tumblr #original art #exophilia

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queeryourgame · 4 years

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Community Values, Guidelines & Rule Enforcement

Community Values

Queer Your Game is an international multi-game LGBTQIA+ only gayming community. We aim to provide our Gaymers with a protected cross-platform environment where we can all enjoy ourselves, meet new gay™ people from all over the world and gayme together safely. Queer Your Game welcomes all sorts of Gaymers regardless of gender, race, religion, nationality or level of skill.

Our community is live on Discord and you can join us today!

We expect everyone to behave responsibly, kindly and respectfully toward one another across all platforms and games.

The following guidelines are not exhaustive and we reserve the right to change and amend them as our community grows and we learn. We’ll let you know when we do, but we expect all of you to read them, accept them and abide by them.

One last thing, safety is our main concern and to that end, we are offering a moderated space.

You are the heart of this community. The way you behave is the way we all behave and your integrity is our integrity. If you see someone that needs help, if you witness something that’s against our guidelines or just plain wrong, say something. Do something. Tell a mod, alert us on social media, stand up for your fellow Gaymer as you would like your fellow Gaymer to stand up for you and help.

Join Queer Your Game 👉 http://bit.ly/QYGDiscord

Community Guidelines

Queer Your Game is an LGBTQIA+ only community. What does that mean? Well, it means that if you are cisheteroromantic AND cisheterosexual then you can’t be part of this community. We appreciate that you consider yourself one of our cishet allies and we understand that you might have a spouse/partner, family members, friends and acquaintances who are LGBTQIA+ that you care about and support. However, due to the nature of the gaming community at large, we wish to keep QYG open to LGBTQIA+ folks only. PS: If you are cisAromantic and/or cisAssexual and you consider yourself Queer, we welcome you.

Our community guidelines must be respected cross-platforms. You must also abide by the community guidelines and terms of services of the platforms you are using. On Discord, you must respect Discord’s guidelines, on Twitter, you must respect Twitter’s guidelines, on Xbox, you must respect Xbox’s guidelines, etc.

Queer Your Game is not yet a corporation but we will abide by the Digital Millenium Copyright Act (DMCA), the European Union Copyright Law (EUCL), the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), the World Intellectual Property Organization Copyright Treaty (WIPO and WCT) and the World Trade Organization (WCT) on copyright and intellectual property. If the copyright and IP organization of your region isn’t mentioned here, please know that if we are contacted by them regarding copyright and intellectual property transgressions by our users, we will consider their inquiries just as seriously as those from the organizations mentioned above.

While we are on the subject of copyright and intellectual property, it’s important you remember that we consider fanart and derivative work to be fair use. Fair use is a right, don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. Using culture to express yourself and create your own representation is something that we at Queer Your Game actively encourage.

Reposting original art, derivative work, and fanart as your own without crediting the artist or appropriating art, derivative work, and fanart is forbidden. If we find out that you are stealing original art, derivative work, and fanart from the artists in our community—whether from Discord, Tumblr, Twitter, or anywhere else our users are present—for commercial purposes, you will be reported to said platforms, to the relevant authorities, and you will be immediately banned from Queer Your Game. Forever.

The sharing and/or promoting of illegal activities and illegal materials, like piracy, copyright and intellectual property infringement, betting and gambling, pornography, pornography involving children/animals/violence, political parties, etc. are forbidden in our community cross-platforms.

Please don’t use the community Discord and other platforms for your advertisement of any kind, unless you are affiliated with Queer Your Game and/or we have given you permission to do so. Yes, that includes charities and fandom projects. Do not ever ask for money or promote your Ko-fi, your Patreon, your PayPal, your Kickstarter, your IndieGoGo, etc. unless you are affiliated with Queer Your Game and we have given you permission to do so.

Remember when we said that your safety is our main concern at Queer Your Game? That starts with keeping your personal information secret. Do not ever share your personal information in our Discord Server or publically on our other platforms. If you want to share your personal information with a fellow Gaymer, add them as a friend and share what you wish to share via private direct messages.

Nobody at Queer Your Game, Admins or Mods, will ever ask you for your personal information in our Discord server—unless you are in the SOS channel and you are requiring immediate IRL assistance, and we do mean life or death situations.

If you are caught sharing another Gaymer’s personal information, you will be banned. If you obtained that information illegally, we will report you to the authorities in your country of residence.

To become a part of our gayming community you need to follow our application process. We do not allow Gaymers to have multiple accounts—especially if you have been kicked or banned and you’re trying to trick us into adding you again. Don’t do it.

If we catch you impersonating another Gaymer, you will be banned and reported.

By the way, don’t use offensive usernames. By offensive we mean insulting, discriminatory, violent, sexual, etc.. Oh and don’t copy another Gaymer’s username either.

We are running an 18 and older Discord server and we don’t mind you discussing all sorts of topics, including sex. I mean, we’re gay. It’s okay. Just don’t be inappropriate. Don’t link to porn, under 18 content, illegal content, or you know, all the stuff we already mentioned above. Don’t upload under 18 or NSFW content in the chat, don’t use porn/violent/discriminative GIFs, don’t swear like a sailor, don’t spam.

Using our community Discord for sexual acts or intercourse, the promotion of sexual services and the exploitation of children is prohibited.

We will have zero tolerance for Gaymers who bully, harass, verbally abuse or berate other Gaymers in-game, on Discord or any other platforms Queer Your Game is on. Hate speech is not okay. Do not promote violence against anyone, especially other marginalized folks. If we catch you bashing on someone, alone or in a group, you’re done.

If you have a disagreement with someone or you’re getting upset and you feel like lashing out, find a Mod, take a break. If you can’t manage what’s going on in the moment, walk away, send us an email or DM us. Criticism should always be polite and constructive. In fact, one of the mottos we use in every aspect of our work at Queer Your Game is “To be a voice of criticism, be a force of proposition.” It’s good advice; you’re welcome.

Trolling in-game, on Discord and other platforms Queer Your Game is on is unacceptable. Don’t ruin the experience of other people. That goes for spoiling. Whether it’s about a game, a movie, a book, a tv show, just don’t spoil, okay? Now, we know some of you will want to talk about every bit of spoiler and juicy news out there so we made you a channel on Discord.

In-game, we expect you to show fair play, to win with dignity and lose with grace, and to support your fellow Gaymers and teammates. Cheating and hacking are prohibited. Respect in-game rules and codes of conduct. No friendly kills, no awoxing, no spawn killing, no stealing from other Gaymers, no destroying other Gaymers property. Oh and no botting.

Raging is a no-go. Don’t rage quit, don’t yell at your fellow Gaymers, don’t insult people, don’t swear excessively, etc.. If you can’t handle what’s going on in-game, if you know you’re going to lose it, walk away. It’s that simple.

Cooperation and support are promoted within Queer Your Game. We like transparency and we think that champions, raid leaders and more skilled Gaymers should lead and help and teach and theorycraft and strategize and all the good things that can advance their fellow Gaymers, their own teams, parties and guilds of Gaymers. Just don’t go around sharing all of that on social media unless it’s made clear that it’s okay or you’re the person who came up with it.

At Queer Your Game we consider ourselves proponents of social justice and equal rights. We also know what a lot of social media platforms and communities refuse to acknowledge: tech and media are not neutral and no community or person is apolitical. While we encourage conversation and we understand that nobody’s perfect and no content is unproblematic, we want everyone to have the opportunity to enjoy the diversity of our community as they have fun, share, learn, educate themselves and grow. We expect all Gaymers to be on their best behavior. If you witness any of the following behaviors, report it to a Mod.

Racism, anti-blackness, xenophobia, white supremacy, Islamophobia, antisemitism, cultural appropriation, and bigotry will not be tolerated.

If you’re a transphobe or a TERF, don’t apply. We don’t want you. We also expect Gaymers to respect their fellow Gaymers’ pronouns. Misgendering will be sanctioned.

Sexism and misogyny won’t be tolerated. If you’re a white feminist, we don’t like you either. And if you don’t know what that is, we encourage you to check Google.

Ableism, food-shaming, fat-shaming, and all physical discrimination or belittling are rude and forbidden.

Don’t police, gatekeep, etc.. We have Mods and Admins, and we have guidelines. Your judgment of others is not required nor welcome.

Threats, incitation to violence and self-destroying behaviors, and any activity or conversation that could lead to your physical or emotional harm are completely forbidden and will get a Gaymer banned.

Suicide stunts or self-harm for attention-seeking, entertainment, or bad jokes will be sanctioned.

We have created an SOS text chat and voice channel on our Discord. Our intention is to provide a safe space for any Gaymer who would find themselves in a sudden and terrible struggle. If you are in danger, if you are in crisis, if you are experiencing a medical or mental health emergency, etc., anything that would require immediate assistance, you can, if you choose to, go into the SOS text and voice channels.

We want to make it clear that, even though our Moderators are notified that if they are alerted or see a Gaymer in an SOS channel, they should immediately check on them, we cannot shoulder the responsibility of your well being and your safety. We will not offer professional and trained support even if some of our Moderators and Admins could be trained professionals. For now, we can only provide you with a safe space and common sense help if we are able. We will call the police or an ambulance if you need them and we happen to be able to. We will stay with you if you require a presence. We will help provide you with crisis helpline phone numbers if they’re available where you reside so you can seek the appropriate help.

Please don’t abuse the SOS channels. We cannot stress enough that this specific gesture is a way for Queer Your Game to show you in action that we care. We are not in any position to be responsible for your safety and/or your well being and we do not make any promises of trained support or life-altering actions. Therefore Queer Your Game—as private individuals or as a corporation—is not liable for you.

Rule Enforcement

Queer Your Game is a moderated space, on Discord, on Social Media, in forums, and in-game. We have Moderators, Admins, and Super Admins.

As a moderated space and community, Queer Your Game does, in fact, exercise a certain censure as described in our community guidelines. We reserve the right to change them, although we will let you know when that happens.

The appreciation of your violations and of your behaviors remain up to the discretion of our Mods, Admins and Super Admins. You can appeal a sanction, a temporary kick or ban, a definitive ban, etc. by emailing us at [email protected]. The decision to maintain, alter or lift your sanction(s) is also to the discretion of our Mods, Admins and Super Admins.

The offense system is as follows:

You can get warnings of different gravity in-game, in Discord chat or voice channels, in your mentions and in your DMs or PMs depending on the platform you commit your offense on.

If warnings don’t have an immediate impact on your behavior, you can be asked to a private conversation with a Mod, an Admin or a Super Admin on Discord.

A small offense will get you an email, a DM or a PM, possibly a temporary time out or kick, most likely a private scolding and a mark on your account.

A serious offense will get you the same treatment as a small offense, a definite scolding, a kick or ban for the length we deem fit, and you will lose your status in the community. When you come back, you will have to go through a return interview and you will start fresh as a Padawan Gaymer on probation.

A grave offense will mean your immediate kick from our Discord and a ban will be decided by our team of Mods, Admins, and Super Admins. You’ll receive an email informing you of your ban and our definitive decision.

We may ask for your opinions, thoughts, and ideas in polls and voting events.

We at Queer Your Game think strongly about the ethics of our project. We believe in transparency and in taking in different perspectives. To that end, we regularly consult with outside professionals in different fields and we are in the process of recruiting different individuals for our reference and sensitivity group.

Join Queer Your Game 👉 http://bit.ly/QYGDiscord

#GaymersUnite #QueerYourGame #QYGAbout #Gamers #Gaming #Gaymers #Gayming #GamingCommunity #Video Games #LGBTQ Games #LGBTQ Gamers #Queer Gamers #Trans Gamers #Women Gamers #Community Guidelines #LGBTQIA+#LGBTQIA

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merlinemryspendragon · 5 years

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Gif Coloring Tutorial

Requested by anon. Sorry for taking so long to post this!

This tutorial goes over how I color gifs, including tips for coloring dark scenes and scenes that are heavily filtered with a certain color (i.e blue scenes, yellow scenes, etc.).

We’ll be going from this:

To this:

Warning: This post is gonna be really long! (if the read more breaks blacklist “long post” or “usermerlin gif tutorial”)

*I’m using Photoshop CS5

1. Gif Making Basics (Note this part won’t include images since the anon specified coloring and avoiding noise I’m gonna focus on that)

First I take screencaps using Potplayer.

In PS I import the frames by selecting File --> Scripts --> “Load Multiple DICOM Files”

Once the images have loaded I go to the drop down menu on the animation window and select “Make frames from layers”.

Then I crop my gif using the crop tool. I put all the layers into a group (select all the layers and press ctrl + g (cmd + g if you’re using a Mac)

Now I sharpen my gif. I’ve created an action to speed up this process using user thepunisher’s action tutorial. I didn’t include the grouping of my layers in the action so that’s why I always group them before starting my action so that it works properly. My sharpening is pretty standard from what I’ve seen. I use smart sharpen:

Now I can start coloring!

2. Basic Coloring

In this section, I’ll be going over a basic, but vibrant, coloring. When making adjustments you have to be careful not to increase brightness or vibrance too much or your gif will become grainier. Same goes with making changes to the colors. It’s better to have more layers with slight adjustments

I always start by brightening up my gif. Sometimes I use curves to both brighten and adjust colors. For this particular gif I didn’t, but I use this adjustment often. User villainelle has a tutorial for using curves to color adjust here and so does user thepunisher here. They have slightly different approaches and I use either depending on the scene. I’ll also be explaining this adjustment more in the next section but I learned how to use it from them.

Step 1:

For this gif, I just started with an Exposure adjustment layer. Exposure allows you to change the tones of your document. Gamma adjusts midtones, offset adjusts shadows, and exposure adjusts highlights. It’s really helpful with brightening up dark scenes or heavily shadowed scenes. I usually only adjust the midtones/gamma. Here are my settings:

I increased the Gamma to 1.12

Step 2:

I then use a Brightness/Contrast layer to adjust the highlights (you could also do this with Exposure but I find Brightness more manageable). At this point, I’m only increasing the brightness. I won’t increase or decrease the contrast bar. Here are my settings:

I increased the Brightness to 34

Step 3:

After adjusting the brightness, I want to bring back some depth (I’m probably using this word incorrectly tbh) to my gif by increasing the contrast before moving on to color correction and vibrancy.

To increase the contrast I use a black and white gradient map and set it to soft light. Then I lower the opacity between 10%-50%, depending on the scene.

You could also use Levels or Brightness/Contrast but I find the gradient map is easy to control while also making the gif more neutral. For this gif, I set the transparency to 10% but could go a little higher because the scene is naturally bright. All these adjustments are really about your personal preference.

Step 4:

Now I can move on to the colors. For basic coloring I usually start by increasing the saturation. I use a Hue/Saturation layer because this way I can increase the saturation of everything. I feel like the Vibrance layer tends to just make the gif warmer rather than making the colors pop- and I have less control over individual colors. For this gif, I increased the saturation for all colors (”Master”) to 27:

Step 5:

After adjusting the vibrancy I move on to color adjustment. This can really vary based on preferences. I tend to prefer to make my gifs cooler in tone. I use Selective Color and Color Balance to manipulate the colors.

I started by adding a Color Balance layer to adjust the colors on Aziraphale’s face:

I increased the Cyan to 4, the Magenta to 3, and the Blue to 1 to make the skin tones more neutral. I’m moving the bars toward the colors I want to add. So if my gif is too yellow I’d move it toward blue and if it’s too red I’d move it toward cyan. Also note that I only made changes to the midtones. If I wanted to make changes to the darker or lighter parts of this gif I’d alter the shadows or highlights but I usually only do that for rainbow gifsets. Typically, I prefer Selective Color to make more drastic color alterations so I have more control over the specific color I’m changing.

*Be careful when making these types of changes. You don’t want to make drastic changes to the natural undertones of a person’s skin. Same goes when you’re brightening your gif. You can easily whitewash if you’re not careful. User amorverus has a great tutorial on avoiding whitewashing in coloring here .*

I also wanted to brighten up the gif more after this so I added a curves layer :

Then I used Selective Color to decrease the yellow tones in the White background:

I decreased it by 26. I almost always do this for scenes with white backgrounds or large blocks of white.

Step 6:

After I make some color adjustments I adjust the brightness and contrast again. I always add another Curves layer to increase the brightness of the shadows by slightly lifting the line on the bottom left:

Then I use Levels to change the contrast of my tones. I usually increase the contrast by moving the left hand point slightly to the right:

After that I add another Curves layer, decreasing the shadow and increasing the highlights like this:

I feel like this adds some nice depth to my gif and brings out the colors more. The amount I decrease or increase the curve depends on the gif itself, so definitely play around with this.

Step 7:

Now I go back to make some last color changes. I added another Selective Color layer and increased the Black on Whites:

Finally, I added another Selective Color layer adjusting the Whites again. I decreased the Yellow again and also increased the Cyan and Magenta to make the blue in the sky pop a little more:

I used a layer mask to erase this layer on Aziraphale so the change is only apparent on the sky.

Now I’m done! Here’s the same method on two other scenes:

And I uploaded the .psds (dl here) so you can take a closer look at what I did in Photoshop. Keep in mind that I don’t always follow these steps in the exact same order. Psd #3 features the curves color adjustment method and has some more adjustments. It really depends on the scene itself and the mood I’m in. Practicing a lot will build your familiarity with the different adjustments and hopefully boost your confidence in making your own coloring!

3. Hard to Color Scenes

Blue/Yellow/Green/Red Scenes + Dark Scenes

These types of scenes can be hell to color but there are some techniques to help balance the colors so that you have something that’s easier to work with.

For general dark scenes, adjusting the Exposure can be really helpful. Unfortunately increasing the Gamma or Exposure too much can make the gif grainy so be careful when using it. Consider using it in combination with Brightness/Contrast and Curves to avoid making drastic changes.

Another helpful adjustment layer is the curves layer. As the tutorials linked above explain, using the midtone or highlight dropper tool can help adjust the presence of red, green, and blue in your gif. Photoshop will balance against the color you select.

Let’s take this scene for example:

This scene is really yellow. Using color balance or selective color to balance it out could help but given how yellow it is, you’d need to use a lot of these layers to gradually change the colors or you’d make your gif too grainy. Using Curves, we can adjust colors with less layers and hopefully introduce less grain (sometimes this type of adjustment can result in too drastic a change, so your gif becomes hella grainy so be careful). I used the midtone dropper around here:

And got this:

Here’s the Curves layer:

The shadows are a little more intense than they were to begin with but that’s easier to adjust. You could also keep messing around with the dropper so the scene doesn’t become darker. You could it make it slightly less yellow and then finish the rest with color balance and selective color. Either way, I’m satisfied with this so now I can continue coloring:

Here’s an example of a dark and blue scene:

Usually for darker scenes, I use the midtone dropper but that wasn’t resulting in a change I was happy with. I used the highlight dropper instead, clicking on the flecks of snow in the bottom right:

Here’s the Curves layer:

And here’s the final gif after coloring:

This method is great for making big changes to the lighting and colors of your gifs.

HQ GIF Tips:

Save Settings:

I save my gifs with Diffusion because I find that the dithering is usually less noticeable that way, so my gif looks smoother. Pattern can also look really nice though, depending on your coloring. Try out both and see which you prefer! Here are my settings:

Coloring:

Making drastic changes all at once can make your gifs grainier. Be careful not to change a color too much one one Selective Color or Color Balance layer. It’s better to make smaller changes over multiple layers. Same goes for increasing brightness and vibrance.

Source:

Use the highest quality video source you can. That’s an easy way to make HQ gifs. Blu Ray or DVD quality is better than Itunes for example and both of those will be better than clips from Youtube. If the file size is bigger that typically means there less compression so the quality will be better. If you can’t find larger sizes or you don’t have the space or time to save larger files, just make sure it’s at least 1080p. Keep in mind that now that gifs are converted to gifv, your gifs might look grainy or blurry when you post them even if they look fine when you save them. You can go back and mess with the coloring to see if this helps but otherwise there’s not much you can do about the conversion.

Those are all the tips I have for now! If anything doesn’t make sense or you have any questions please let me know.

#gif tutorial #coloring tutorial #photoshop help #long post #usermerlin gif tutorial #I hope this helps!!#sorry this got so long :(#please let me know if you still have any questions or if something doesn't make sense #I get all rambly #my current coloring is really a messy mix of all the tutorials I've ever seen #I'm gonna reblog this a couple of times to make sure it gets seen #I'm gonna go to sleep now lol

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years

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so i saw your post about artists still drawing willc, and i understand the viewpoint (i am also disappointed by lack of willr content) but i felt i should maybe provide an artist's perspective! personally, while drawing characters i like, i fall into a groove with it. they obviously became fans (perhaps far) before willr was jerm and they cultivated willc in their style already. i've gotten to a point where i don't even reference characters anymore, how i draw them Is That Character for me

i don’t follow you and just peeped your blog realizing you make art and shit that sounds condescending now cause i didn’t know you were an artist! and also although i have my Main Base characters i draw, i like to branch out to explore newer actors in the roles, so it’s still kind of disappointing there’s almost a rift between jeremys. (also ps your art is very good and cute i hope you have a nice day)

i really accept no Good Faith arguments about why there’s a noticeable lack of Specifically Roland Jeremy depictions. like, this isn’t even about individual artists; i don’t need every single person who draws a conn-style jeremy to justify it or Prove that it’s not about rejecting roland jeremy. the issue is the emergent discrepancy between them + the fact that we Do see people make adjustments for visual changes and new castings seen in 2.0/3.0, even allowing for jeremy’s new costume (or voice…..) while still retaining Will Connolly’s Appearance. which in itself is not necessarily the work of the devil but we Do see that it is A Choice that people make

there’s never any reason someone is Actually Incapable of learning how to draw anything differently. god knows we all wish that we really Could settle into a routine with the way that we draw and feel comfortable at home base but even if you do draw the exact same characters all of the time, your style evolves and your abilities improve and you really Can’t not adjust the way you draw. and inevitably we have something new we have to learn how to draw and yes it’s frustrating not feeling like you “know” how to draw it but like. if you try to learn you can. and artists will keep pulling out the “well i don’t have as much experience drawing _____ so i’m never going to draw that way” to justify some kind of nonsense about why they can’t possibly depict a fat person and it’s so totally reasonable to just imply they can’t even Make An Effort……like, not drawing some Unusual Perspective or not putting realistic folds in clothing b/c you don’t have much practice / don’t really feel like it isn’t the same as “i shouldn’t have to learn how to draw people with characteristics i’m not already used to drawing” b/c obviously a Lot of issues crop up with this that aren’t relevant with stuff like “i’m not used to drawing shoes so i’ll draw them the exact same way always”

in this case there is the way too pervasive issue that people have honest contempt for will roland because he does not look or sound a way they consider adequately Cute / attractive and that is the entire nuance of it. we’ve got people out here imagining justifications and making up objectively false arguments about why actually It’s Bad And They Dislike Him /(As Jeremy) Because ___ but then you really do have people flat-out owning it that they don’t like him b/c of how he looks. this is the Entire Issue. if this wasn’t a factor then we’d see a more balanced ratio in terms of The Way People Are Willing To Imagine This Character. there’s only two guys to have played this role (and only very recently several appearances by alternates) and while the fanbase exploded on the connolly look and sound, there’s been like. a whole Year of will roland jeremy and if the only issue was “it’s difficult to learn how to draw a new person” then, well, there’s been time to practice.

again i accept no arguments that so many people are refusing to draw will roland jeremy In Good Faith. this isn’t about individual artists; the Trend or Pattern inherently requires looking at a whole group to be discernible

like, i don’t really search out bmc fanart, so what i come across is a pretty random selection of recent-er works, and i’ve very very rarely seen Only 1.0 Cast fanart, yet i’ve also very rarely seen Clearly Roland Jeremy fanart. people are willing to learn to draw characters in a new / multiple ways, but there is this unwillingness to imagine jeremy the way he looks as played by will roland because yknow. god forbid you compromise the mental image of a willowy conventionally prettier jeremy

honestly and it also feels like a rare occasion when i see a jared that looks all that much like will roland in particular. obviously there’s a lot more options re: people who’ve played the role and so like, okay. but at the same time it’s wild that like, the Collectively Imagined Usual Depiction Of Jared does not share that much in common with will roland besides being a white short-haired brunette in glasses. it’s like, wonder of wonders when someone’s fanart of jared is clearly based on Either of the two principle broadway actors for the role. stuck between a rock (non conventionally attractive white guy) and a hard place (he’s totally skinny! but he’s black, too!) on that one i guess

also i have one resounding complaint to make about people drawing Ostensibly-Will-Roland

the roles he’s played which receive the most fanart are obv jared kleinman and jeremy heere………….these are both canonically jewish characters……..would it absolutely kill people to ever ever ever draw a nose like how will roland’s nose actually looks Especially in these cases. sometimes we Do get examples of people drawing not-will-connolly jeremy but The Nose Looks Nothing Like Will Roland’s and it’s like oh. well that’s fantastic. we’re just defaulting to generic white brunette with “acceptably Cute small narrow upturned nose” some more then, okay, i cannot condone this

gods sake when i see a would-be 2.0 / 3.0 jeremy like

that honestly hurt me to make btw…..look noses are a challenge to draw and basically all of us simplify them but if your Shorthand Nose For Absolutely Everyone looks like the above please think about this. noses that are deemed Too Wide / Flat / Big / Hooked / Downturned are also deemed bad / ugly and like, get over that and don’t subscribe to it or propagate it. there’s no such real thing as ugliness or Objective Attractiveness and the concepts are Not at all apolitical liiiike

please everyone be conscious and analytical towards how you draw people and whether you think you have to “censor” certain physical traits and don’t use the justification of “it’s hard to learn how to depict ____” like yeah it’s hard drawing is always hard we’re all trapped in hell together, learning how to be better drawing something that we didn’t use to have any practice drawing is how anyone ever draws anything at all ever so like. it’s not an argument about why someone Can’t draw something. you only Won’t draw something and you can have good / neutral reasons behind this or terrible reasons and plenty of people won’t draw will roland looking like will roland because they think don’t think he looks cute and that’s it.

#Anonymous #god this is like months old #also thanks lmao

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vespertine-legacy · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2019 Day 11

Prompt #2. “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Fandom: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Game)

Rating: General

Warnings: none?

Characters: Female (Cognizant) Revan (OC: Ariadne “Ria” Khandar), Bastila Shan

Tags: angst and fluff, bisexual Revan, Revan & Bastila relationship (or at least some of the build-up to it), reference to past Revan & Malak relationship

(same universe as all of my other Revan/Bastila fics, but they all stand alone I think)

Revan blinked against the setting sun as she and Bastila emerged from the ruins. The datapad in her hands with the first piece of the map to the Star Forge still felt warm, almost alive. Looking over at Bastila, she expected to see a mirror of her own excitement. Instead, Bastila’s face was set in a look of frustrated contemplation. Revan bumped their shoulders together, causing Bastila’s frown to deepen further.

“We should get back to the Council and tell them what we found.” Bastila met Revan’s eyes briefly, allowing her face to relax into a more neutral state, before she turned her gaze back to the path ahead.

They walked in relative silence, avoiding small groups of kinrath and kath hounds. When they approached the path that would take them to the Enclave though, Revan stopped short, looking contemplatively at Bastila. Where a slight left turn would take them over a bridge and into the Enclave grounds, Revan instead doubled back into the open field they had just crossed. She stood at the center of it, scanning the short cliffs that lined the meadow.

Bastila joined Revan, mild irritation showing on her face, but concern seeping through their Force bond. “Ria? What is it?”

In lieu of an answer, Revan grasped Bastila’s hand and took off at a jog toward a small gap in the cliff wall that she had spotted.

“Ria, where are we going?” Bastila tried to sound displeased, but it came out more flustered than anything.

“Just follow me.” Revan released Bastila’s hand as they reached the gap in the natural wall and she started to squeeze between the rocks and find footholds to climb. “I want to show you something. I promise you, I know where I’m going.”

Bastila’s face betrayed her piqued interest, and she almost smiled. Revan felt a flash of needling anxiety through their bond and tried to think if the memory of this place was something the Council had agreed to let “Ria” keep or not. She shook the thought from her head as she turned to scale the rest of the distance up onto a flat grassy expanse overlooking the Enclave. When Revan helped Bastila over the edge and stepped back to let her take it in, Bastila gasped quietly.

“Oh, Force, it’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”

Revan marvelled at Bastila, finally relaxed enough to smile, hair limned in sunlight. She croaked out a quiet noise of agreement. Before Bastila could sense her growing embarrassment, Revan walked forward to sit on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the Enclave. After a moment, Bastila sat beside her, not quite near enough to touch. Two brith drifted lazily past them, their mossy-colored fins iridescent in the fading light.

The longer she sat in such close proximity to Bastila, the more Revan felt like a youngling with a schoolgirl-crush again. Between them, their hands were nearly centimeters apart, and on the soft breeze Revan could smell Bastila’s hair. She wanted to touch it, to tuck away the strands that seemed to always fly loose from the ties that held it back. Without realizing it, Revan leaned closer to Bastila, watching her lips, considering turning Bastila’s chin to kiss her.

Under Revan’s scrutiny, Bastila turned to face her of her own accord, startling Revan with their closeness. Bastila’s eyes flicked between Revan’s lips and her eyes before settling on her mouth, and a warm blush crept up Bastila’s neck and covered her cheeks.

Suddenly struck by the memory of kissing Malak on the same bluffs, back before he was Malak, Revan sat back, the moment soured. “We should head back.”

Their walk back to the Enclave was silent, but Revan noticed that Bastila kept a small smile for the entire walk. More than that, Revan could feel--and almost see--their bond in the Force, a bright string wrapped around both of their hearts, comfortably taut between them.

(Characters except Ria belong to EA/BioWare/LucasArts/the StarWars folks. Y’all finally get to learn the name of one of my many, many Revans! PS brith are the big manta ray looking things that fly around on Dantooine.)

#fictober19 #fanfiction #short fanfiction #kotor #swtor adjacent #bastila shan #baby's first fictober #no beta we die like men

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scarletwidowaf · 5 years

Text

Sorry For Your Loss

Pairing: ScarletWidow, but honestly its like a really small interaction of them and idk i just felt like writing this. Its not fluff or coupley.

Words: 548

Warning: none? Maybe grammer and shit.

Its short, but I honestly barley written anything in the last 4 years so that was a challenge for me. Also i tried a new way of writing that I haven't used so it was a bit challenging too. Hopefully you'd like it.

Summary: After the fight with ultron Natasha heard about Pietro's death and decided to pay Wanda a visit.

You guys asked for it, I really hope youll like it and that ill get to take it to the next levels and give scarletwidow what they deserve. This one is for you!

@flowercrownedalien

@saintbuckyb

@exlosers

@lokisterminatrix

@what-if-i-imagine

Ps. Let me know if you want me to write part 2.

-------

"Wanda Maximoff" she said and got into the room that seemed to be my temporarily bedroom.

"Natasha Romanoff" I said back , not catching her eye, too tired to even try to hide the thick accent.

"How are you?" she asked, she wasn't seem to be cold towards me yet she was distant, probably trying to decide how to adress the elephant in the room.

"You heard?" I asked, already knowing the answer

"I heard" she admited, "clint told me" she admitted and i could see her tensed shoulders dropping. she didn't seem to be a person who normally comfort others, or ask for pity herself.

"well it wasn't much of a secret, i guess it was only a mattar or time" I admitted and she nodded.

"Still, Im sorry for you loss" she continued "your brother seemed like a nice guy"

I tried my hardest to hold my tears inside, i didn't need her pity, I wasn't planning on breaking down in front of her, as it wasn't awkward enough.

"he was" I admitted and tugged my hands into my hoodie, trying my best not to catch her eye.

She seemed to notice my discomfort and smiled a small smile.

"I know its not the same, but you're one of us now. We got you" she said "you're not alone"

When I didn't answered or gave a sign that i even heard her she gave up, she tugged her hands into her skinny jeans pockets before turning to the bedroom door.

"I knew he died before they told me," I admitted before she got to the elevator, making her stop in her tracks, turn around again to face me.

I felt a few tears running down my face. "I felt a part of me dying with him" I continued.

"I guess thats the funny thing about soulmate, you just know" she said and i looked up at her, catching her green eyes.

"I didn't take you as the one to believe in soulmates" i said with a small sad smile, she smiled back.

"Well, i guess that at least some things you're going to need and learn in the hard way." She smiled at me a small smile, like she was scared to break the wall she built between us "maybe your powers didn't gave you a full look on some things" she said

"Id like to learn than" I admitted, a part of me didn't want her to leave yet i didnt want to push the subject, a part if me tried to believe her words, she seem to try to be nice towards me, i dare to say even friendly. its not easy forgiving someone that made you go trough your darkest moments and fears, I couldn't blame her for being distant- and consider the reason she got to my room she doesn't seem to blame my distant neither.

"Give it some time, red." She said and i laughed at the random nickname. "You should rest" she cut the neutral area we got into.

"And again, i am very sorry for your loss" she continued.

"sleep tight, red" she finished.

"Good night, Natasha Romanoff" i coyly said, not sure why.

"Good night, Wanda Maximoff" she smiled at me before leaving the room and leaving me to think about the random interaction.

#scarletwidow #scarlet widow #scarlet witch #black widow #natasha x wanda #wanda x nat #wandanat #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #pietro maximoff #avengers age of ultron

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iwritefanficsometimes · 5 years

Note

For WinterIron: When Tony finds Out Bucky can cook he is surprised. He get's James to cook from him (not that this is difficult since Bucky wants Tony to eat more anyway) and is fascinated. Like Bucky likes to watch Tony in the workshop sometimes, when the mechanic is in his element, Tony develops a habit of watching Bucky in the kitchen. 🙈🙊

AO3 Link - For formatting reason I highly recommend reading on AO3

(Soooo,,, I’m a sucker for dual personality Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier and I can’t personally imagine Bucky not being personally involved in tech and wanting to get hands on with everything, but I can definitely imagine Soldier paying a lot of attention to Tony. And then this happened. I hope you still like it! PS. I am a vegan and I wrote some of this stuff while gagging, so… that’s it, I just wanted to share that. PPS. I copy pasted this from a Google Doc so I had to add back in some formatting things. Let me know if there are still issues)

Bucky didn’t tell people that Winter was still there. He was cold, calculating, violent, in ways that would have made the Avengers, and the public, wary. It was a decision they made together, like they make most major decisions since Bucky started coming back to himself when they were sent after Steve. It was a hard won truce between the two of them, but fighting amongst themselves left them vulnerable, and neither of them wanted that. They couldn’t afford to be vulnerable. They were stronger working together to keep their independence than they were working against each other for control. So they came to this tentative compromise

They told Bucky’s therapist, now their therapist, Dr. Koning. She was a nice woman and she burned all her session notes right in front of Bucky once the session was done, so he trusted her. Winter was wary, after the incident with the not-therapist pulling him to the surface and taking control of him again, but with time he became used to the idea of spending time with this woman to help them heal. She was a good mediator.

“Have you ever considered finding your own interests, Winter?”

The question caught both Bucky and Winter off guard. Bucky because they’d just been talking about his interests, and Winter because he hadn’t been paying attention, since they’d been talking about Bucky.

“What?” Bucky asked, mimicking Winter’s confusion.

“I asked if Winter had ever considered finding his own interests, separate from yours.”

“We have the same interests,” Bucky told her, and Winter had to agree. Sure, there were some things Bucky did that Winter found boring, like spending time with Steve, but the things that Winter enjoyed Bucky also enjoyed, and got to do vicariously through him when he wasn’t “fronting,” one of their new words, himself to do them.

“Well, that may be the case now, but you’ve said that you do things that Winter doesn’t have any interest in, right?”

“Yes,” Bucky nods, and Winter starts to tune out again, because they’re talking about Bucky.

“And that means that he’s capable of liking things outside of what you like. Since you have your interests in technology and science fiction-”

Bucky snorts, but it’s not Bucky, it’s Winter. Dr. Koning smiles and greets him, “Hello, Winter. Did you have anything to say?”

“I didn’t choose to front.” He leans back in the chair and crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring Bucky’s internal order to “be nice.”

“Well, the question still stands. I know that you don’t front often for your safety, which I understand, but when you do front, have you considered looking for things outside of what you both do together to occupy your time?” Her face is carefully neutral, but Winter can how much she needs him to agree to this experiment. Bucky tries to correct him, that it’s not an experiment, but that is certainly what it sounds like. Attempt to find a new interest to establish personality outside of shared interests.

“She just wants you to be happy. I can hear how lonely you get rattling around back there, and you don’t like any of my friends.”

“Your friends are idiots, but they’d know immediately if I were to try and spend time with them instead of you.” He tells Bucky out loud.

Dr. Koning chimes in. “That’s why I think it would be good for you to go outside of your shared interests, that way you’re meeting new people and you don’t have to pretend to be Bucky Barnes, you can just be yourself.”

“Myself murders people.”

“Winter,” Dr. Koning sighs, “Do you want to go over this again?”

“No, you’re not gonna fix me in one session. I’ll do your experiment. I’ll find a hobby.” He says the last word like it’s a slight and Barnes is inside his head giggling. Idiot.

“I’m glad to hear it. When we meet again we can discuss how it’s going.”

Winter gets up and leaves without saying goodbye.

—–

“Um, what are you doing?”

Winter isn’t startled by the question, because he heard bare feet padding on the floor long before Tony Stark deigned to speak.

“Cooking.” Winter tells his gruffly, as he continues to stir the risotto.

“Oh, well, it smells good. Must mean you’re doing a good job.” Tony is tense, not quite comfortable around Bucky yet. Winter lets him maintain the illusion that it’s Bucky he’s talking to.

“If you stop talking you can have some.” The recipe Winter found was for four people, and Winter could have eaten it all, but he didn’t really want to.

“It’s 3am.” Tony countered and Winter looked over his shoulder at him.

“So?”

Tony took a seat at the island and didn’t say another word.

Winter could feel Tony’s eyes on him, but even a genius probably wouldn’t be able to figure them out from just one meeting. Bucky stirs from where he’s been dormant and is caught off guard by Tony’s presence.

“You don’t think he’ll notice? I’m down in the lab a lot.”

“We’ll tell him you sleep walk. Now be quiet, you’re distracting me.”

“You need to add more stock.”

“I know!”

“Everything okay over there?” Tony asked from the island, and Winter tensed and then forced himself to untense, muscle by muscle.

“It’s all fine.” He says, trying for Bucky’s accent and failing miserably.

Tony stays quiet again, and Winter stirs, adding stock to the risotto before he burns it. Barnes is laughing at him. Winter resolves to distract him the next time they’re sparring with Captain America.

When the risotto is finally done he spoons some onto two plates, giving himself a normal sized helping and resolving to go back for more one Tony was taken care of. “Here.” He says and sets the plate down in front of Tony.

Tony takes it and fishes a fork out from a nearby drawer, handing the other to Winter, before digging in himself.

Winter eats, analyzing the dish to see what he could have done better. The rice is not as well cooked as he would have liked, and the mushrooms are too thick for his taste. He resolves to try a different stock and thinner mushrooms next time when he realizes Bucky is trying to get his attention.

“Tony’s thanking you.”

Winter looks up at Tony and sure enough, he’s looking at Winter like he’s waiting for some kind of response. When one doesn’t seem forthcoming he either repeats himself or continues. “This is really good.”

“It could be better.”

“You’re supposed to say thank you.”

“But thank you.” He wishes that he could kick Barnes.

“Hey, everyone’s their own worst critic. I didn’t even know you cooked.” Tony is very obviously trying to be comfortable. Exposure therapy, like they did with Winter and Steve.

“It’s new.” Winter tells him. Just then, thankfully, the oven goes off, and the baked chicken is finished. Winter gets up and grabs potholders from beside the stove, Tony watches him the whole time until a tray of breaded and perfectly baked chicken is sitting on a wooden cutting board on the counter resting.

When Winter goes back to his food Tony is staring at him. “You made risotto.”

“Yes.”

“And you breaded and baked chicken.”

“Yes.”

“At 3am.”

“Yes.”

Tony blinks, “You are full of surprises, Barnes.”

Winter says, “Don’t call me that,” instinctively, but realizes his mistake as soon as he’s said it.

“What else would I call you?” Tony asks, probably thinking this is going to be one of those cheesy invitations to call Bucky by his first name. It’s not. He’s not Bucky. But as per their agreement, he’s not allowed to tell him that.

“James.”

Bucky groans inside their head, because he hates that, name, but Winter isn’t left with many other options.

“I thought you hated that name.”

“It’s my chef name. Deal with it.”

Tony looks at him, then looks at the risotto and the chicken. “You know what, I can live with that. Happy to make your acquaintance chef James.”

Bucky is irritated. Winter is pleased that he got around their rules and now has two people who won’t call him Bucky.

——

Three nights later Tony Stark find himself in the communal kitchen with “Chef James,” and there’s gotta be a story there Tony’s missing, but the food is too good to ask too many questions, and he tries to make a little bit more conversation. Talking to regular not-cooking Bucky is difficult and some days even impossible for reasons Tony can’t explain, but cooking Bucky, “Chef James” is less intimidating. Sure, Tony has seen him wield a knife with such deadly accuracy that he should be scared of the man chopping vegetables in front of him, but he’s not. He doesn’t remind Tony anything of the man he fought in Siberia or the man who killed his parents. He’s a completely separate entity from either of them, and he’s easier to be around, because he doesn’t talk much. It’s a great start, in Tony’s opinion.

“You just gonna sit there?” James asks when Tony has been nursing the same cooling cup of coffee for twenty minutes.

“I was planning on it. I learned from experience not to step into a kitchen I wasn’t asked in. I burn water.”

“That’s impossible.” James looks over his shoulder at Tony, skeptical, and maybe the teeniest bit amused, but that might be Tony’s imagination.

“Not for me.” Tony gives him his brightest smile and Bucky turns back to the grilled cheese he’s making. It’s less complicated than the risotto, and faster. Winter is actually hungry, and wanted to make himself something rather than warming up one of the many cartons of left overs in their fridge. He will try and make his own stir fry soon, now that he’s mastered pastas, but he didn’t have the time to figure that out right now. He was hungry.

“So, is this a nightly ritual, James in the kitchen at midnight?”

“No.”

The short answer doesn’t deter Tony in the slightest.

“Okay, so how long have you been cooking for yourself?”

“A month.”

“Cool, cool. Nothing fancy this time around. After your last meal I almost expect you to be making tomato soup from scratch.”

“I don’t like tomato soup.”

“Have you ever had it from scratch?”

“No.” Winter has had canned tomato soup, however, while on liquid nutrition, and it wasn’t pleasant. It was not an experience he or Bucky was eager to repeat.

“Well, to each his own. Why don’t you want to be called Bucky while you’re cooking.”

He nearly says why. He nearly says it. But he bites his tongue and flips the sandwich he’s making, because if he lets Barnes front and deal with this then he’s failed and he won’t get to have his grilled cheese.

“I don’t feel like Bucky when I cook.” Not a lie, but not the secret he’s been forbidden to tell. Barnes isn’t happy, but he doesn’t make any move to try and take control.

“Oh.” Tony says, with a sincere sort of understanding that makes Winter uneasy. Because Tony does understand, on some level. Maybe he never took a stage name, or whatever Barnes is doing, but he definitely remembers not wanting to be himself, and using building, and at a darker point in his life, drinking, to accomplish that. “That makes sense.”

Winter doesn’t say anything to that, just sets down a grilled cheese in front of Tony before continuing to make his own.

“Oh my god.” Tony says around food and Bucky turns to check on him. “This is amazing, what did you put in this?”

“Three cheeses, black pepper, paprika,” Winter lists off, annoyed at having thought something was wrong. “It’s just a grilled cheese.”

“No, it’s amazing. You need to shut up.” Tony took another bite and then another.

“You eat like you’re starving,” Winter tells him, and it’s supposed to be an insult. Tony nods and swallows.

“It’s only been like,” he checks his watch, “36 hours. Friday would force me to eat way before I starved. Wow, this is amazing.”

Winter blinks, then glares at Tony.

“Unacceptable.”

Tony stops mid chew and asks, “What?”

“Unacceptable,” He repeats and sets down the sandwich he’d been saving for himself in front of Tony as well. “Eat.”

“Um, whoa, I can feed myself.”

“Apparently not. Eat.”

Tony knows better than to question someone with Russian Murder Eyes, so he pulls the sandwich onto his plate and then goes back to eating his own. Winter nods and Bucky rolls the idea around in the back of his head.

“You’re concerned for him.”

“Someone has to be. Friday isn’t physical. She can’t force him to eat.”

“Great observation, buddy, just remember that we’re trying to maintain a secret here.”

“Yes.”

Winter finishes the grilled cheese that he’s making and then he goes to his Pinterest board for high-calorie, high-protein meals.

“Um, what are you doing there, chef James?”

Winter looks up and glares at Tony again. Tony raises his hands in mock surrender and continues eating. “Forget I asked.”

Winter did.

—–

The next afternoon there was a fresh baked lasagna sitting on the counter in Tony’s workshop, cooling, with a plate and a set of utensils sitting docile beside it. Bucky had been the one to bring it up, but the notes was signed “James.” All it said was, “Eat.”

Tony did, then asked Friday to discreetly invite their resident former assassin to join him. Friday asked which one and Tony sighed at her.

“The one who made me this frankly delicious lasagna. Feels weird to be eating without him.”

“James is not currently in residence. Would you like me to contact Bucky to ask when he may be available?”

“Hey, look, Fri, I know he’s doing the whole, ‘I’m not Bucky when I cook’ thing, but I don’t think it’s literal.”

“Handwriting analysis as well as behavioral pattern analysis says otherwise, boss.”

“What do you mean handwriting analysis?” Tony asks, turning to one of the many screens he was using for stats that now had a side by side picture of James and Bucky’s handwriting. James’ was a messy scrawl where Bucky’s was all neat loops of early thirties cursive. Okay…

“Okay. Yeah, let’s just… “ Tony sighed, looking at the lasagna on his plate and then at the handwriting. “Just ask if James wants to come and eat with me, and pretend we didn’t just figure out… whatever this is.”

“Of course, boss.”

——

“No,” Winter said firmly when Bucky relayed the message to him.

“Oh come on, you took the time to make it, we should at least get a taste.”

“It is for Tony. He doesn’t eat.”

“Yes he does, you see him walking around with those protein shakes. When he said he hadn’t eaten he just meant solid food. He’s not in danger of collapsing. Come on, this is your chance to make some friends.”

“I killed his parents.”

“If he’s willing to try and look past that you should too.”

Winter does not reply, and instead allows himself to front and go and see Tony. He feels distinctly uncomfortable with the gesture, but Tony was kind to them when he didn’t have to be, was under no obligation to, and after Winter got over his distrust of such kindness it had become… welcoming. He had only wanted to give Tony something in return.

“You called.” Winter’s face is as blank as it can possibly be, and Tony smiles when he sees him.

“Chef James,” he says, using James without prompting, which Winter is glad for, “I saw that you left me this, and I just wanted to make sure you got some too. I had Dummy get an extra plate, here.” He served a second helping for Winter and set it on the counter beside where Tony was sitting. “It’s amazing.” He says it like Winter didn’t make it himself. Of course it was good. Maybe it could be better with certain alterations, but for now it was good.

“Yes.” Winter began to eat, taking in all the components as one and then picking a part his next bite into individual components to taste them.

“You are a man of very few words, James.” It sounds like an observation made aloud for Tony’s benefit, rather than the beginning of some kind of discussion, so Winter says nothing.

They eat mostly in silence, with Tony making comments occasionally that are all along the lines of compliments. James thinks the meat sauce has too much meat in it and the cheese is a little heavier than he would have liked. Next time he’ll-

“So, you just started cooking a month ago? Really?”

“Yes.” Winter is a little bit irritated at having been interrupted, but he is learning to deal with irritation by not lashing out. Dr. Koning would be proud.

“What made you decide to choose cooking?”

“Nourishment is important. Learning to make it was an acceptable pastime.”

Tony nods, “Okay… right. Do you bring lasagnas to all your friends then?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“Steve would probably beg to differ.”

“Steve doesn’t know that I cook.”

“Oh, I see, this is more chef James distinctions. Gotcha. So, do you bring lasagnas to all of the people in the compound?”

Bucky is smirking inside their head. “It’s a fair question.”

“No.” Winter replies to both Bucky and Tony.

“Just me then.” Tony fidgets in his seat and continues eating. “Is there anything else I should now about chef James and how he’s different from Bucky.”

“I don’t fight.” He says, and Bucky is starting to sound too intrigued in their head.

“Maybe this will be good for you.”

“Really? Well okay then. I won’t ask you to fight. Anything else?”

“I don’t like those stupid sci-fi books.”

“Hey!”

“Interesting. Do you want some cookbooks?”

“The internet provides me with all the information I need.”

“Right, so you’ve come into the age of modern technology. Cool. Well then…” He rolls his chair back to where he keeps spare tablets, because he breaks them a lot down here. “Why don’t you take one of these. Friday can get you any book you want, and you can read to your heart’s content, or throw it in a box and forget about it like Bucky did to the last one. Whatever works.”

“If you already gave me one, then why are you giving me another?” Winter asks and Tony just holds his gaze.

“Because you’re not Bucky when you’re cooking.”

Winter and Bucky both know in that instant that Tony has figured it out, but he’s not saying anything. Winter nods and takes the tablet from him before getting up to leave. “Finish that,” he points to Tony’s plate, “And eat at least one more.”

“Yes sir.” He mock salutes and Winter leaves the room.

“Shit.” Bucky says feeling enough panic that it starts to sink into Winter.

“Yes.” He replies, but he doesn’t really feel it. Aside from Dr. Koning, Tony is the first person to acknowledge Winter’s presence, even if he is calling him by the ridiculous name, “James.” And he’s the first person to ever give him something that was just for him.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Winter asks angrily as he calls the elevator.

“You’ve got it bad, man.”

“No.” Winter was fine. He didn’t have anything.

——TBC—–

(I needed to get something out today, but I’ll continue tomorrow. AO3 Link Above)

#oops forgot to tag #winteriron #winteriron fanfic #winteriron fanfiction #winteriron fic #tony stark #winter soldier #bucky barnes #winter soldier as a separate personality #fanfiction #lysa writes #lysadoessomethingstupid

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