#look i know i keep coming back to this topic and harp on it a lot
Note
LWA: To expand on @robinwithay's point some more, I am thinking again about Crowley's equivalent to Aziraphale's stubbornness when it comes to rejecting Heaven. Crowley just will. not. learn. that actions have consequences, and that the responsibility lies with the agent, not some nebulous figure out there somewhere. What's striking, in fact, is that "actions have. consequences" is the closest thing the GO universe has to divine providence in action: when Crowley does something, it comes back to bite his occult arse, without fail, every single time. Shut down the cell phone network? Great, can't call Aziraphale. Make yourself look good to Hell? By golly, Hell is going to give you all the sweet assignments. (From their POV, anyway.) Turn a freeway into a demonic sigil? Whoops, it's on fire when you need to cross it, and also a lot of people are dead. Moreover, not only does the universe keep pointing this out to Crowley, but so do the other characters. In S1e1 alone, Hastur, Aziraphale, and SATAN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD all call him out on the whiny "why me?!" business, and Hell does it again in "The Resurrectionists." ("Off my head on laudanum. Not responsible for my actions!" HELL: Oh honey, no.) Arguably, "why me?" is the /one/ question to which Crowley gets a definitive answer, and he consistently refuses to listen to or learn anything from it.
Gaiman's very deliberate decision to prolong and inflate this aspect of Crowley's character is fascinating, because the Nuremberg Defense moment in the novel is there to put an /end/ to it. I keep harping on the Nuremberg Defense issue because in 1990, that was /topical/, not historical: at the time of publication, the most recent high-profile example of someone Nuremberg Defensing himself out of Nazi-era war crimes was Kurt Waldheim /in 1986/. Pratchett's and Gaiman's point in the novel is that Crowley's--and, more so than in the series, Aziraphale's--refusal to take responsibility for what they've done as Hell's and Heaven's agents leads inexorably to them thinking like, you guessed it, Nazi-era war criminals. But as of the end of S2, Crowley has still not come around to the moral epiphany about this that in the novel, Aziraphale has /first./ Instead, Gaiman's substitute for the Nuremberg Defense, the child murder subplot in S1, is averted in such a way that Crowley doesn't learn anything from it.
Further to the point that @robinwithay and others who responded made, you know who did learn something from the child murder subplot? Aziraphale. I said in an earlier ask that in S1, Aziraphale's own failure in the subplot is that he winds up deferring to Crowley's judgment, despite his own clear discomfort, because he cannot turn to Heaven for moral authority. "You can't kill kids" is not represented as a divine or infernal universal mandate--it's a /human/ mandate that transcends both. (That's entirely in keeping with the point, made in both the book and the series, that humans are capable of both far greater good than angels and far greater evil than demons.) In S2, Aziraphale does what he /should have done/ in S1, and says "no" to Crowley's proposal that Gabriel just be abandoned somewhere. I think people sometimes forget that Crowley, for all that he asks questions and nudges Aziraphale along out of his allegiance to the Heavenly party line, is not the series' moral arbiter. Aziraphale knows that Gabriel is facing "something terrible" and is not sure whether or not he's still "awful," but he does what S2 itself shows by the end to be the right thing. Doing the right thing sometimes means telling Crowley "no" and sticking to that no, just as, in S1, the moment Aziraphale hits on the right question to ask at the airfield, he moves /away/ from Crowley to stand with Adam.
good afternoon LWA!!!💕
okay so i feel some frank warning is due for anyone else reading my reply, especially if you're new around these here parts: what follows beneath the cut is going to be crowley-critical. it's not meant in bad faith, but recognising character shortcomings is important for all characters involved. there is (quite rightly) a lot of critique in relation to aziraphale in the fandom, and this is not in ignorance or denial of that - there are certainly points where aziraphale's actions throughout both seasons are called out, and i agree with a number of them - but a) that's not what im talking about here, that's a different post, and b) similar analysis of crowley is (as far as ive seen personally in the months ive been active) not as common - hence the post. if that's not your bag, fair enough, but take heed!!!✨
can't believe a fandom-specific cw for this is necessary but. here we are
(because i get asked this a fair amount - AWCW: Angel Who Crowley Was) (and just now recognising the grammatical error in this, ah well we move)
the part of crowley's character that does not accept consequences, and seemingly refuses to learn from them, is one of the most intriguing for me. as well as all of the instances that you've listed, this is something that we see as being so inherent to him that it even predates the fall; it's not a trait that is specific to crowley-as-a-demon, but to crowley-as-crowley. for all of the understandable reasons that AWCW felt he should ask questions, should challenge why his hard work and creativity was going to be put to waste as if it were nothing, he outright dismissed aziraphale's frankly prophetic advice that directly delivering criticism to the almighty, even if meant with the best of intentions, might spell for trouble... might even spell for AWCW's own personal ruin.
slightly unrelated, but another note: the mindset of, "if i were in charge", however much it might have been meant offhandedly or innocently, even connotes an incredible amount of hubris that, whilst not wholly condemnable in itself, gives an interesting insight into how crowley views himself from before the fall and going into present day.
AWCW's questions may come from a place of innocence and collaboration, and may speak to how much trust he placed in god/heaven to hear his questions with patience and understanding, but it still remains highly likely that he dismisses aziraphale's warning. and the reason he ignores it, most likely, is because it is not what he wants to hear, nor does it (in his eyes) benefit him to exercise caution. one could go a step further and suggest that this indicates a fatal "crowley knows best" mentality, which the rest of the two seasons doesn't exactly negate. and look - that's fine, ignoring advice is hardly an indictable offence, but if what you're doing goes to shit? that is on you.
shifting into speculation-mode in the absence of any confirmed account of the fall itself, we can presume that AWCW's questions fall on deaf/reticent/dismissive ears, and that will just as likely have left AWCW with a sense of frustration and resentment. i continue to be a really hopeful advocate of AWCW having had a lucifer-parallel narrative; that after what was essentially a dismissal, he may have precipitated (at least) the inception of the fall by way of knowingly or unknowingly planting the seeds of rebellion amongst the eventual-fallen... e.g. "they're not treating us fairly, all of our effort will be for nothing, all in service and deference to 'human beings', i tried to speak to god about it but they won't even hear me out."
i don't think he will have led the rebellion, that doesn't quite seem appropriate to his character, but certainly that he may have sparked the initial machinations, and then - by furfur's account - participated in the war. this, again, would fall in line with crowley's ongoing tumultuous relationship with consequences-borne-from-his-actions.
crowley's unreliable narratorship of his own fall is, by definition, untrustworthy, and as such it's not a given that he was unimpeachable in any participation of it. "i didn't mean to fall" would definitely suggest that it was not his intention, but if we return to the Dead Whale Theory, this is a dead whale that crowley has failed to fully accept, or learn from. he seems - when we consider how he inhabits the role of god (as he sees that role to be, anyway) in how he treats his plants in s1 and the goats in s2 - to be very much of the opinion that he is entirely innocent of any wrongdoing.
and in some respect, he's not wrong - asking questions is not a bad thing, it's a very good thing, and his willingness to do so is one of crowley's greatest assets - but his refusal to heed advice in favour of his own agenda, refusal to accept the answers given even (especially?) when he doesn't like them, to have potentially sparked dissent that led to a war (which he fought in), and his lack of accountability for the results, is where he falls down. im not going to go so far as to call it narcissistic behaviour, that feels a bit extreme, but there are... similarities. he doesn't learn from the whole fiasco in any manner that would indicate self-reflection, and instead seems to have walked away from the fall with his clear-cut conclusion that heaven was wrong, and are in fact The Bad Guys.
certainly, GO proposes that heaven isn't the traditional definition of truth, light, and good that aziraphale hopes that it is intrinsically... but crowley still hasn't reached the point of understanding the rest of what the narrative is saying.
heaven and hell are not always good and bad respectively, but they are not always bad and good respectively either. it's not a simple, 'we're turning this on its head' concept. it is altogether a veeeery grey system that simply exists, and it exists in the way that it always has done since the fall (possibly even before, in heaven's case). it is instead your choice whether or not to be part of that system, if you do not think it is right. if you continue be a part of that system, even if there are stakes involved that would make it difficult or compelling for you to remain and act within that system, you should at least recognise the consequences of your actions, accepting your part in it. this goes for all angels and demons, not just aziraphale and crowley. 'just following orders' may be understandable in some circumstances (e.g. threat to life of yourself or others), but does that mean that you are absolved of all responsibility?
we are, collectively, quick to point out that aziraphale has not fully learnt this, but it's clear that crowley has not either. it also suggests by extension that aziraphale is not always wrong, just as crowley is not always right. where actions-and-consequences are concerned, i'd tentatively wager that aziraphale at least demonstrates a bit more understanding of this than crowley does. aziraphale has been shown to recognise when he is wrong, accept it, and make efforts to correct himself or remedy his erroneous actions moving forward. aziraphale hides the antichrist's location from crowley and holds out hope for a higher power to see reason/do the right thing, but when aziraphale gets the confirmation that heaven isn't going to do the right thing by stopping the apocalypse, the first thing he does is call crowley to tell him about adam. you also then have, as you said, aziraphale physically and figuratively moving to stand with humanity; good and bad are just names for sides, and 'human incarnate' equally embraces both concepts (in their truest meaning) and yet similarly rises above both. this is the side to back; 'our side', to aziraphale, doesn't mean just him and crowley, but humanity too.
alternatively (really grinding at the fall thing here, sorry), even if AWCW did not willfully participate in any goings-on of the rebellion, and the fact that he fell was an incident in which he was blamelessly implicated/scapegoated... well, even then, that does not give him a free-pass for him to continuously believe that he is innocent in all matters that follow. sure, he may have been blameless in the fall, but does that mean he's therefore beyond reproach or above accountability for... everything he does/says that occurs afterwards?
setting up the perfect environment for armageddon? tempting aziraphale to kill the antichrist? giving a group of humans live firearms in order to make a point? abandoning aziraphale and retracting 'our side' when aziraphale asked him for help with hiding gabriel? withholding information from aziraphale that directly concerns him and his safety? i said it in a separate post (mainly because it would have made this one a really ungodly length), but my point remains the same; regardless of his part or not-part in the fall, crowley's character does not develop in this arena, despite incredibly formative experiences that might in fact impart an important lesson upon him*.
*and that lesson - again! - is not that he shouldn't ask questions, but instead that his actions may prove to have consequences that he does not like or want, but must accept anyway, taking accountability for his part in them.
not changing does not mean that he is perfect from (before) the beginning, but instead suggests that he is very comfortable being the same person that he's always been... and in some ways, it's commendable to remain true to oneself, but it's equally not conducive to growth... and crowley still has a lot of growing to do (he has grown since s1: his kindness for one thing absolutely has!).
crowley does not seem to recognise where his lack/refusal of development may have contributed to the breakdown in his and aziraphale's relationship by the end of s2, even if that lack/refusal is not directly referenced in the final fifteen. by this i mean: crowley appears to have a very clear expectation of how he believes aziraphale does - and perhaps should - think and behave. crowley, to crowley's mind, he has the right of it ("crowley knows best"), and that includes him thinking that aziraphale will act in the way he has come to expect as a result of his influence on him. crowley has poked and prodded aziraphale away from heaven's rhetoric and dogma* about what good and right is, which aziraphale desperately needed... but does that mean that aziraphale should replace that belief system with Morality According To Crowley? instead of developing his own ...exactly as aziraphale demonstrates in the final fifteen?
when aziraphale doesn't do what crowley thinks he ought to, instead of crowley considering that his perspective of aziraphale may not actually be reality, he takes it as a betrayal and a rejection of crowley himself. though we won't really know until s3 (and possibly not even then) what crowley was really thinking during the final fifteen, it isn't too impossible a notion that crowley now thinks that aziraphale has chosen heaven over him, and loves heaven more than him. which... after everything that he has seen aziraphale go through, battle, and come to terms with, does he truly think that little of him? that aziraphale would think that little of crowley? if he does, that's an incredibly sad and disappointing prospect. perhaps bold of me to say, but sometimes it seems that there are some specific similarities between crowley and heaven in how they individually view and treat aziraphale.
*whilst crowley encouraging aziraphale to think outside of heaven is a good thing, and aziraphale definitely needs it, it does elicit out a couple of concerning traits from them both that, whilst may be borne from respective senses of powerlessness, they manifest onto each other.
crowley has a hero/saviour complex, which aziraphale encourages. aziraphale encourages it - by his own admission - because he thinks it makes crowley happy. however, what is not clear is whether aziraphale recognises that in allowing this, not only does it potentially suggest that crowley benefits from perceiving aziraphale as incapable of protecting himself, and any ability to protect himself (or indeed crowley! 1941!) threatens what crowley thinks is his place in aziraphale's existence, but also that aziraphale himself is projecting what he doesn't get from heaven/god onto crowley.
it similarly isn't clear whether crowley realises that not only he has been - in part - substituted for god/heaven in aziraphale's eyes because he provides the love, acceptance and confirmation of worth that aziraphale has craved since time immemorial, but also that in keeping information from aziraphale that directly concerns him, crowley is nurturing an environment where aziraphale will make decisions according to the limited information he has. we even have a suggestion of this in the final fifteen: to aziraphale's mind, it won't be crowley that protected him from heaven's threat of erasure from the BOL (ie. crowley didn't tell him), it was the metatron. (and if aziraphale finds out about/puts together, in s3, the sheer amount and scale of information that crowley kept from him, there is going to be the hard conversation of whether trust between them can exist as it has before, built over thousands of years).
just as crowley has an arguably skewed perception of aziraphale, aziraphale has a skewed perception of him in return (the levels of codependency are off the charts, lads). it's not a unique observation to say that they both need this break in order to renegotiate within themselves how they view each other, but it's no less true for being repeated.
#bracing myself for impact#dont say i didnt warn you though#im gonna go make an amv now k thx bye#good omens#ask#aziraphale meta#feral domestic/final fifteen meta
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A Rose Under The Moon
Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: None mostly. Goldfish slander, some minor injuries resulting from clumsiness, mentions of events from the show. Layla is here! We stan a healthy, happy divorced couple in this house >=\
A/N: There will be multiple chapters like these in this series, mostly dialogue and filler to help facilitate plot.
Taglist: @shirukitsune @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @bad4amficideas
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Chapter 4:
Old, Unhappy, Far-Off Things
"You guys can't keep doing this." Layla said over the phone.
"I know, I know." Marc sighed, running his hands through his hair. He haphazardly sprinkled some fish flakes into the tank to feed the ever chubby goldfish; looking at the glass to see Steven's reflection staring back at him, a frown creasing his features.
(Marc, you're going to make 'em pop!) Steven scolded.
"Well, how am I supposed to know how much to feed three goldfish?" Marc groaned.
"Steven told you the fish were gonna explode, eh?" Layla laughed softly.
"Yeah. Almost exactly that. I swear, I've never met a man who needs an emotional support fish." He replied, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, screwing the lid back onto the tiny container of nasty-smelling flakes.
(How dare you! Gus and his friends are members of this family! You're going to hurt their feelings!) Steven said, absolutely aghast at Marc's summary of how the little aquatic creatures fit into their lives.
(The other two don't even have names yet, hermanito.) Jake finally piped in, coming to co-front to see what all the fuss was about.
"But seriously, Marc. You have to take it easy. Just tell Khonshu to shove off and ignore his bony ass for a few days!" Layla sighed. Though they weren't married or intimate anymore, Layla still cared deeply for "her boys"; even Jake, to a point. Even if she didn't fully trust him, he was a part of Marc and Steven. Part of their system. She knew Jake was the protector. She knew that he was only violent when he absolutely had to be.
Or when Khonshu sent him after fresh targets. She still didn't like that.
"You think I haven't tried that?" Marc flopped onto the sofa, his hand resting over his face as he sighed.
"He's a god, Layla. It's not so easy to just say no."
"Taweret doesn't seem to have a problem with boundaries." She pointed out.
"Because Taweret is a big softie, Layla. She literally mothers you." Marc retorted with a grunt.
"Well… she is the goddess of motherhood. One of them, anyway." Layla conceded.
"And Khonshu is the god of being a tall, harping asshole who refuses to let me rest." Marc leaned back, closing his eyes as the leather on the sofa softly groaned under his weight.
"You think we like working for him, still? We don't. We need the suit, and people need to be kept safe..."
"Have you considered just… giving it all up? Telling Khonshu you're done? Just hang up the cape?" Layla hummed.
Marc could feel Steven and Jake fade into the background of the headspace, leaving him alone to his conversation with Layla, not enjoying the current topic at all. And it would be smarter to prevent a possible argument between Jake and Marc, right now. They had enough headaches.
"I already tried that, remember? Khonshu just used Jake before we knew he was here and had him kill Harrow."
"Right…"
"And besides…" Marc said, conspiratorially. "...I think he already has his sights set on another person to be a Moon Knight. And I don't know who it is, but I know he's going to hold it over my head. Steven, Jake and I would rather be dead than let some poor, innocent person see the shit we have."
"Shit."
"Yeah."
"Okay… You obviously need a mental health break. Anyplace in particular you can go to get away from everything?"
"Well… there is one place. A little shop Steven found that's nearby." Marc replied.
"Is it a bookstore?" Layla laughed.
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Marc chuckled. "Some woman runs it. American, if you can believe that. Apparently the store was her aunt's or something and she inherited it from her when she died. Steven's built a bit of a rapport with her. Me too. Kinda. She also sells stuff like coffee, tea, snacks… kind of like a one-person cafe."
"She runs it alone?"
"Yeah, impressive actually. But, it's not always safe, I saw that the other day." Marc nodeed.
"Oh? What happened?" Layla asked, wholly invested now. They had a friend? She likely didn't know about their DID, but Marc, and by that extension Steven, and possibly Jake having friends was a win in Layla's book.
"Some abusive drunk ran in after his girlfriend. Apparently she hid his girlfriend in her flat upstairs when she came in covered with bruises and freaking out." Marc said, smiling a bit at remembering your tenacity and urge to protect somebody you didn't even know. Even Jake respected you after that. And Jake respects very few people.
But it proves you were a protector, like he was. Not to the same extent, but close.
"Sounds like a good person."
"She seems like one. I just hope she doesn't get herself into trouble with anymore–ah!" Marc hissed, dropping the phone and waving his hand in the air as pain whipped through his fingertips.
"Shit!" He cursed, picking up the phone again with his other hand. He glared at the red marks appearing in his palm.
"Marc? Are you okay? What happened?" Layla asked, her voice just a hair above worried.
"Yeah, just my fucking hands again. Last week it was my shins." He grunted.
"So either you're getting old," Layla teased. "Or a certain someone hurt themselves again."
"Yeah, just wish they'd quit it. It's really inconvenient."
"That's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?"
"What?" Marc asked, his brow furrowing as he watched the burning red marks blossom on his skin. Pretty, almost, if you were into that sort of messed-up body art.
"Marc, please don't tell me you haven't considered that every time you got hurt, your soulmate felt those pains, too?" Layla deadpanned with a sigh, most likely pinching the bridge of her nose. He could picture it now. She was probably pacing in the kitchen of her flat in Cairo; the sun illuminating her figure, making her curls glow in an amber light, highlighting her jaw as she frowned.
But the thought she triggered in his mind sent a stone dropping into his gullet. Had he really not considered that? He thought that maybe, being Moon Knight would… would dull the pains, or maybe negate them entirely. Or… was he just stupid and didn't put them into consideration?
If they can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs... what about when he…
But sometimes it felt redundant to think about and worry for someone he never met, but at the same time…
"Fuck." Marc hissed, wiping at his face.
"Oh, my gods! You haven't been careful at all have you?" Layla gasped.
"I…"
"Marc! You and the other two need to get it together and take it easy. You think you don't understand things? Imagine how your soulmate feels. They're probably going about their normal daily routines and feel it when you get shot! Oh gods, what about when we were in Egypt and you got impaled?" Layla murmured. "Gods, I almost forgot about… what about when you died? I don't even want to imagine what they felt."
Marc dropped back into the cushions staring blankly at the ceiling. She voiced the very thing he himself was hesitant to mention.
"I… I forgot about that, too." Marc said, his voice almost flat.
"I imagine they must have been confused when their mark reappeared."
"Fuck…" Marc groaned, feeling exhaustion suddenly creep into his body. But then, he jerked, gripping the back of his head. "Damn it!"
"Another pain?" Layla mused.
"God–yeah. Right in the back of my head." Marc grunted.
"Yikes. Your soulmate must not be having a good day." Layla chuckled.
"Whoever they are, they're accident-prone as all hell!" He grumbled, pouting as he rubbed the fresh sore spot.
"Pot callin' kettle, Maaaarc." Layla sang softly over the phone.
"Yeah, yeah. You sound like Steven."
"Good."
"Ugh, please don't say that." Marc said, a smirk cracking his mask of discomfort. "He's already nagging me."
"Okay, okay…" Layla quieted for a moment. "Hey, Marc?"
"Yeah?"
"I might take a trip to London. Maybe if I'm there, Taweret and I can run interference for you to give you a break." Layla suggested.
"Layla… You don't–"
"Already looking at plane tickets." She interrupted.
"Of course you are." Marc smiled. That was one of the things he loved about Layla when they first met. He was drawn to her. Her snark, her determination…
"Yeah. I'll pack a bag and hop the flight that leaves in a few hours."
"Wow, okay." Marc said, his eyes widening. "You're serious about this?"
"Who else is going to babysit you three and get Khonshu off your back if me and the Hippo Mama don't?" Layla jabbed playfully.
"Oh my god, you do not call her that." Marc snorted, shaking his head.
"She thinks it's a cute nickname. And she agrees with my plan, so…"
"Oh great. You two gonna just harp me and remind me to take my vitamins, too?"
"I mean, if we have to…"
"Ugh. You're impossible."
"But that's why everyone loves me!" Layla laughed.
"Sure, sure. And Layla?" Marc asked, looking at the mark on his wrist, a soft fond look in his eyes. It was blooming today, the rose.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"No problem, Marc. Go hang at that bookstore and get a coffee or something, yeah?"
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You hurried up the stairs and rushed to your oven, frantically cursing with each step as you hauled yourself up the stairs and into your flat.
You practically ripped the oven door open, coughing as smoke filled your nostrils as the burned pastries greeted you.
"Damn it!" You whine, slipping your oven mitt on and grabbing the small pan with one hand.
Your phone started ringing and you spun on your heels to glare at the offending object secured to the wall.
"Oh, shut up, you–"
You felt the pan tip when you turned, the blackened treats threatening to fall to the floor, and without thinking you reached out with you other, unprotected hand and gripped it, before making a sharp yelp and throwing the pan onto the counter with a loud bang, blowing air over your burning and blistering hand.
"Shit, shit, shit!" You hiss, turning to your sink and hitting the tap for some cold water. The stinging subsided, if only minutely.
The phone rang incessantly again.
You dropped your shoulders and rolled your eyes with a groan, and pulled away from the soothing coldness of your tap.
But, of course, as your natural "luck" would have it… You trailed water onto your floor, and slipped into it, cracking the back of your head on the tile. Not hard enough to knock you out, no, but it was just enough to hurt, and leave a rather nasty bump.
So. There you lay, flat on your back, water still flushing into the drain of your sink, smoke detector now going off, and your house telephone ringing impertinently.
"I didn't do anything! Why're you guys always giving me the short end of the stick?" You shout at nothing in particular; maybe whatever gods could hear your lamentations and rueful words.
For extra effect, you flipped the bird with your uninjured hand.
Yeah.
Fate was a funny thing, all right.
Chapter 5: Link
#my writing#A Rose Under The Moon#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#layla el faouly#moon knight
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dissociatED ch. 3
edd makes a confession
The contents of an overflowing black grocery bag poured into a pile on Ed’s paint speckled project table. Eddy gave the bag a final shake for good measure before tossing it and a lengthy receipt to the floor. The biggest perk of hanging out at Ed’s after school was that they never had to worry about cleaning up before they left- though that never stopped Edd from doing a cursory trash collection at the end of the night.
“Bon appétit, boys.” The shortest teen pronounced flatly after having first dibs at the avalanching mountain of snacks. He then flopped onto what was left of Ed’s mattress and dug a Game Boy Advance from one of his generous pockets. With a handful of sour gummies crammed into his gob, he listened for the usual jingle as the device powered on.
The lump was next in line to make his selections and went straight to work, stacking bag after crinkling bag of 2 for $1 treats in the crook of his arm. Once satisfied with his haul, he spun around daintily on his big toe, but was halted mid-pirouette by the waifish boy waiting patiently behind him. Edd toppled to the floor with a surprised yelp and flinched as packages slipped from Ed's clutches onto his face.
"Sorry, Double Dee." In one fell swoop, he was returned to his standing position by the herculean strength of Ed's free arm.
“That's quite alright, Ed- ED! What in heaven's name are those?!” he exclaimed, spotting the contraband just as it was unsubtly tucked behind Ed’s back. Lips pursed and arms crossed, he flashed The Look.
“Really, Ed. Butterscotch disks?” His skinny neck snapped toward the bed to address the one who'd surely been the mastermind. With a voice as artificially sweet as the various treats that littered the floor, he resumed his questioning. “Eddy? Why, pray tell, would you make the purchase of goods containing butterscotch knowing Ed’s allergy to the confectionery?”
After he paused his game, Eddy’s unamused glare traveled slowly from his accuser to his accomplice, then back.
“It was I, Double Dee.” Ed’s noodle head hung shamefully, a jutting bottom lip garnering little sympathy from the room. “The siren of scorched butter beckons me with her syrupy serenade!” A fake sob punctuated his surprising use of syllables.
“Ed, I only ask that if you’re planning on ingesting potentially injurious indulgences to at least provide some notice! You’re lucky mister, that I, for one, have learned from your history of impulsivity, and keep a topical antihistamine in my bag for times like these. However, there may come a day when I won’t be around to-”
The diatribe was thankfully cut off by the timely roar of a muffler-less Buick Estate approaching the house. Eddy glanced up at Edd who in turn looked at the remaining member of their trio. Ed stared a thousand yards ahead while he tore open a pouch of Pop Rocks and emptied it into his mouth. The teens waited in silence as the wagon steadied to a rumble in the driveway before sputtering out when the engine was cut. A car door was heard creaking open and slamming shut, followed by footsteps that squeaked across the floorboards overhead.
“Welp, dad’s home. May I be excused, Double Dee?” Carbonated sugar crystals exploded off his tongue as he spoke. Edd took a step back and raised a finger, but before he could offer his pardon, the perpetually sticky boy was clambering up the stairs to attend his nightly roundtable reprimand. Ed remained outwardly unaffected for being the person his family used as an emotional punching bag. It was nothing new, and as disturbing as it was to his friends, they’d learned not to harp on it. Still, Edd's chest tightened with guilt for eating into a rare moment of peace with a well-meaning but unnecessary scolding. He managed to stave off a further spiral by vowing to apologize later.
Before retreating to his usual spot on the old blue chair, he sorted through the mess of snacks on the table. To his pleasant surprise, Eddy had taken the time to locate his special request: unsalted dry roasted edamame. A giddy peek at the bed found two eyes peering back at him over the handheld console until they darted back to the tiny pixelated world on the screen.
“Thank you, Eddy.” He flashed a weak smile and sat cautiously on the decrepit recliner, wondering if this would be the night it finally collapsed. With his weight fully settled, he breathed a weary sigh of relief then sluggishly rummaged around his satchel for a source of cerebral stimulation. On quite the rebellious streak as of late, his eyes shifted scandalously as he thumbed past his homework folder and opted for a decidedly more recreational selection. He settled as comfortably as he could to begin yet another read through of Finnegans Wake.
By page five he realized he’d just been staring at the blocks of text without processing their deeply ensconced meaning. The exposed plywood digging into the small of his back was only partly to blame for his distraction. Being alone with Eddy these days was rare and resulted in an unavoidable onslaught of complex thoughts and emotions.
Three years feels like an eternity when you’re a kid. But the collective trauma caused by the events of the summer before 8th grade remained evergreen in Edd’s restive brain. Much like everyone else in the neighborhood, he’d been shell-shocked by the revelation of Eddy’s abuse at the hands of the man he misguidedly idolized. The image of his friend, unguarded and gored took months to shake. It was made all the more difficult by his own incessant replaying of the tender moment the two shared immediately after the carnage.
He wondered what Eddy felt when reflecting on the overt display of affection. Did he look back on that moment with the same warmth? Did he look back on it at all?
An eerie quiet loomed over Rethink Avenue after the incident. Since his painfully public humiliation, Eddy left his days of bunco artistry behind and seemed to be exploring his newfound individuality- or so Edd hoped.
Despite their initial outpouring of empathy, the kids struggled to maintain a tolerance for Eddy once it was clear that his riley temperament wasn’t as easily dropped. Ed and Edd didn’t mind of course; they loved Eddy for the firebrand that he always was. The trio was closer than ever, and weren’t particularly bothered by their largely unchanged status as outcasts. Some things had changed, however. It wasn’t long before Edd noticed a disparity in how he viewed his two closest friends. He and Ed were still akin to brothers, offering comfort and protection from their less than ideal home lives.
But "brother" no longer seemed an appropriate label for Eddy; thinking back, he wasn’t positive it had ever been. Eddy often teased that they were “partners in crime”, prompting Edd to roll his eyes in tepid disapproval. Now, with the so-called crime behind them, did that mean they were just... partners?
At first, this shift in perception was easy enough to shrug off as another fleeting infatuation- after all, he still had a bit of a thing for Nazz. But the passage of time did nothing to sway this new sentiment. By now he’d long given up trying to deny the dangerous appeal of Eddy’s casual insubordination, the bizarre charm in his audacity, his inexplicably endearing immaturity. Not to mention how fetched Edd was by his patchy goatee and trendy hoop earring.
Suddenly everything Eddy said or did was under scrutiny for some implicit meaning. Every indiscreet invasion of personal space and cheeky comment was taken as a hint that he might just feel the same about Edd.
Then again, Eddy wasn’t shy by any means, so if he did have similar feelings, surely he would have mentioned it by now… right? Given the boy’s turbulent upbringing, it was reasonable to assume that he was simply too afraid or embarrassed to broach the subject. Plus, the mildest affectionate gesture made his skin crawl- a fact that Edd was painfully aware of.
The concept was completely foreign to him, as years of touch starvation were starting to take its toll. So much so, that he’d recently found himself looking forward to the occasional odiferous bear hug from Ed. Nonetheless, he respected Eddy’s boundaries, ever-changing as they were.
The mixed signals were a tad frustrating, though. One moment he’s utterly unapproachable, the next he’s practically on top of you. Edd could no longer control the way his lip quivered during those moments. The way he'd turn beet red and still be utterly incapable of looking away.
“Take a picture why dontcha? Weirdo.” The croaky voice snapped Edd’s mind back to the crumbling purple walls of the basement where he’d been gawking at Eddy for the entirety of his impromptu reflection. He emitted a few indignant scoffs and squeaks while scanning the immediate area for something else to look at.
“Oh no, I-I wasn’t…W-Well I was just…”
“Relax, Sockhead, I’m just joshin’ ya .” His brow curled in genuine concern at the mortified expression on Edd’s pallid face.
“Oh, of course, a joke. Hehe. Funny.” His eyes grew large just as he shot abruptly from his seat and snatched up the discarded grocery bag from the cement floor. Spread out flat, it was just wide enough to provide a barrier between the rancid mattress and his pristine pants. With a painfully tight grip on his bony knees, he twisted rigidly to face the portly object of his affection. The unexpected proximity had Eddy slowly shrinking into the corner.
“I need to get something off my chest, Eddy, to clear the air, so to speak.”
Eddy perked up slightly. “Seriously, it was just a joke. I don’t think you’re that weird.”
“Never mind that.” Though impertinent, the clarification was some relief to Edd. He continued, “After considerable time spent deliberating, I’ve come to accept that though my selfish unburdening may well bring about unintended consequences, I simply can’t go on ruminating and rehashing hypotheticals. For my own sanity, it’s best I know exactly where I stand- where we stand. You have my word that no matter your reaction to what I have to say, I won’t be upset. I only ask that you take into consideration my sensibilities when forming your sincere response.”
“For chrissake Edd, just spit it out already! You’re makin’ me nervous.” The Game Boy was shut off and tossed aside so he could wipe his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans.
“Eddy, I-”
On cue, pounding footsteps barreled down the groaning stairs. Their newly liberated friend burst into the room sporting his trademark slaphappy grin. Eddy’s indignant glare lingered on a jolted Edd, whose attention was drawn elsewhere.
“I am back, you guys! Pass the ointment, Double Dee!” Resilient as always, Ed stomped over to the buffet of junk in search of something salty to accompany his disks of discomfort.
Eddy stood up on the bed briefly before hopping to the floor and yanking the lofty teen to eye level by a handful of his jacket collar.
“Welcome back, big guy. Hey, listen, I just remembered there’s this gargantuan bug in my bathroom and I need Double Dee here to come see if it's poisonous.”
“Oh, why Eddy, if you simply provided a description of this aberrant arthropod, I’m certain I could-” His innocent offer was snuffed by a clammy hand over his mouth. He fought the immature urge to bite one of the fingers. Like it was his fault that Eddy’s on-the-fly excuse was so easily refuted.
“You're in charge of holdin' down the fort till we get back, got it?”
“Roger Wilco, Eddy!” A ground shaking stomp and stiff salute served to drive his unclear point home.
“At ease, Lump.” He landed a few affectionate wallops on Ed’s bicep, then shot a look at the quasi-entomologist. “Let’s get this over with.”
The old table buckled when Eddy leapt onto the corner to gain access to the window and shimmied through the ever tightening port to the backyard.
“Double Dee?”
Edd stopped on Eddy’s trail to answer, “Yes, Ed?”
“If Eddy’s bug needs a place to stay, there is plenty of room in my humble commode.”
“How… considerate of you, Ed. I’ll inform, um, it of your very generous offer.” He turned to leave but was quickly sidetracked again.
“Oh, Ed!” He looked up with doe eyes and placed a gentle hand on the boy’s sinewy forearm. “I’d like to apologize for chastising you earlier. It’s not my place to dictate the decisions you make regarding your health. Though, it’s probably best to provide you with your own tube of diphenhydramine cream. Just in case.” An affiliative smile spanned his face for the few seconds he waited for a response.
“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cured meat. And I am quite partial to bologna.”
“Yes, well. I’d best be on my way if I hope to avoid an ear-splitting admonishment of my own.”
The ginger haired giant gaped, eyebrow cocked, as the boy’s spindly arms struggled to lift the weight of his equally scrawny lower half out of the basement. After spending several seconds watching his friend’s kicking legs and pained grunts, he lurched to the window and nudged Edd’s rear with just enough force to send him stumbling into the patchy footpath outside. Once somewhat stabilized on his disproportionately small feet, he hollered his appreciation.
“Thank you, Ed! Back in a jiff!”
Standing coolly at the end of the front yard, Eddy wasted no time pulling out a metal case and matching Zippo from another of his many pockets. His thumb stroked the crudely buffed out initials of the case’s previous owner as he popped it open. He pinched a slightly stale menthol cigarette between his lips and used his left hand to block the breeze, his right to light. That first fiending drag of nicotine always left him woozy. Using a light post to steady himself, he watched through heavy lidded eyes as Edd flounced into view.
The out of shape boy’s dramatic heaving stopped as soon as he whiffed the acrid aroma of tobacco.
“Eddy, I’d prefer you didn’t do that upwind of me.” He swallowed hard and watched the cherry glow red as Eddy inhaled another puff, a characteristically devious grin forming around the carcinogenic tube.
“You’re the one standin’ so damn close! C’mon, I ain't out here for my health.”
With that, the pair started down the sidewalk to Eddy’s home. Their shared lack of spatial awareness resulted in the frequent bumping of shoulders, elbows and hands as they shuffled along in silence. A gust of autumn wind on top of the awkward physical contact prompted Eddy to lip his cigarette and shove his hands in his jacket pockets.
The whimsy of marcescent leaves rustling in the nipping breeze had Edd recalling the many idyllic scenarios wherein he finally makes his long awaited confession. Planning was the one constant throughout all of his fantasies; scheduling a time that was convenient for them both, meeting at an undisclosed- and tastefully atmospheric -location, and reading from a deliberately worded billet-doux.
Instead, the rosy imagery was choked out by another miasma from Eddy’s mouth. He grimaced, watching the discarded cigarette land in a growing pile below the back window. His attention was then quickly drawn back to his prospective flame who, in a heartening display of etiquette, had stepped back and was motioning him through the bedroom’s exterior door as it whirred open with an inviting gush of warm air. It wasn’t the moss covered stone pergola hidden away in the vast secret garden of his daydreams. But the clean, well-decorated interior of the bedroom was an improvement.
Edd lingered by the door, looking on while his wheezing friend slunk off to the bathroom.
“Go on then,” The husky boy was heard a few minutes later, garbling through the foam of toothpaste in his mouth. “I’m listening.”
Edd bit his lip and took a few reluctant steps toward the middle of the room. The sound of medium bristles scrubbing properly aligned teeth echoed off the tile floor of the bathroom. He cleared his throat loudly and adjusted his hat. Feeling a bit dispirited by Eddy’s seeming indifference, he struggled to maintain focus on the task at hand.
You’ve come this far, Eddward. Turning back is no longer an option. Besides, you’ll feel better once you’ve disencumbered yourself. Go forward!
“Hello? Earth to Double Dee?” The voice was now outside the bathroom. Eddy flicked the light off on his way out, slung a retro patterned hand towel used to dab his mouth over his shoulder and zipped to his vanity. There he refreshed his CK One.
The corners of Edd’s mouth tightened. Choosing the right words from the hundreds that bounced around his brain at any given second was more challenging than expected. The wrong one could lead to a critical misunderstanding, which might cause irreparable damage to their already at-risk relationship.
Eddy managed to pry his eyes from his reflection long enough to turn around and face Edd who looked to be fighting a losing internal battle. Nothing new there.
“Forgive me. You’ll understand if I’m a bit nervous.” He faked a chuckle. A second clearing of his throat expelled the first words that came to mind.
“I’m quite fond of you, Eddy.” Dilated pupils darted to the furthest corners of his bugged out eyes. The stocky body in his periphery didn’t move.
A bit lackluster, but a good start. Elaborate.
“To put it more plainly, my indelible admiration for you has taken on a romantic hue… Hours of introspection, countless thought experiments and an economy-size box of facial tissue have all led me to this conclusion.”
His stiff neck ratcheted slightly to the right, followed by the rest of his body as he dared to close much of the space between them.
“I’ve grappled with the possibility that said feelings may be unrequited. And in the event that you do share my sentiment, less than two percent of adolescent affairs last beyond high school...”
Emboldened by adrenaline, he froze where he stood, now only a couple feet away and placed a heavy hand on Eddy’s broadened shoulder.
“That said, I’m truly hoping that for once, the odds are in my favor.”
Edd's gimlet eye and uncharacteristically forceful grip had Eddy weighing his options for an escape; if he was quick, he could slip out from Edd’s grasp and leg it back to Ed’s. No way he'd want to keep talking about this in front of Ed. Or, he could fake the sudden onset of some obscure disease- a surprisingly reliable option.
His eyes narrowed as he debated, fixed on the wisps of thin, dark hair resting against Edd’s cricked neck.
“Eddy?” The voice was so low it prompted Eddy to look around for the source.
“Why’s everyone think I’m gay, Double Dee?” There was a genuine curiosity to his question, though he dreaded every possible answer.
Edd withdrew his hand and used it to anxiously massage his bony chest. His lack of facial expression was typically an indication that he was on the verge of collapse. Eddy tried to be subtle in taking a small step back.
Now, look what you’ve done. Why would you touch him? And with unwashed hands, no less!
Feigning maturity was beyond tiresome. Edd wanted to throw himself on the ground, kicking and screaming until he got his way. He’d half a mind to inform Eddy exactly why everyone was so quick to make judgements regarding his sexuality. Figuring he’d already put enough strain on their friendship for one night, he instead played dumb.
“Um… Far be it from me to dissect the complexities of your identity, Eddy. It seems, based on your reaction, that even my perception was skewed after years of friendship.” The adenoidal quality of his voice returned once his throat was cleared a third time. His hand instinctively pressed against his burning cheek, then tugged at the zipper of his quarter zip sweater.
Eddy’s short rearward steps continued until he collided noisily into his rickety dressing table. After confirming nothing had broken, he contested.
“So a guy bathes regularly and knows how to put together an outfit. That makes him a f-” Noting Edd’s disapproving squint, he quickly found another word. “...Fruit?”
If the context weren’t so gut-wrenching, Edd would have laughed out loud at the boy’s callow reasoning.
Oh, Eddy. My obstinately oblivious abettor.
Behind the beads of perspiration on Eddy’s scrunched forehead a war raged on; a conflict between conscious and unconscious mind. To think, someone whose last name wasn’t Kanker was interested in him. And it was Double Dee of all people- the finicky genius, wise to the many skeletons in Eddy’s overloaded closet. The guy who even seemed to have the dames figured out wanted him. It was doing wonders for his recently shoddy self-worth. And he could’ve easily been carried away on that cloud had it not been for the anchor of doubt, despair, and disgust keeping him firmly on the ground. It was true, he knew Eddy like one of those tomes he read for fun. So if Edd thought he was bent… That meant he’d better keep growing out the goatee.
“Eddy, my personal interests aside, I feel I must reiterate: There is nothing nefarious about same sex attraction. It is entirely amoral, despite hegemonic messaging to the contrary.” He paused, remembering that morality wasn’t exactly topping Eddy’s list of priorities. He tried a different angle.
“Gay and bisexual men aren’t inherently less masculine than their heterosexual counterparts. Sexual orientation has no bearing on how someone may choose to express their gender identity.”
The blank look on Eddy’s face was proof enough that he remained unmoved by the attempted appeal to logic. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tapped his foot impatiently.
“Eddy, are you going to listen to me or your father, who can only be distinguished from archaic man by his ability to cajole elderly widows into the peeling leather interior of dubiously discounted daily drivers?”
The fist-clenching frustration that prompted his outburst dissipated quickly, replaced by pity when he met eyes with the confused young man before him.
Still at a loss, Eddy knew his friend was right. But as far as he was concerned, to admit that was tantamount to coming out.
“I’m sorry, Dee. It’s nothin’ personal, really. I just don’t swing that way."
#back on my bullshit with all this alliteration but its fun what can i say#some day i'll write a fic that doesn't end with a line of angsty dialogue but today ain't that day#as usual i'll probably reread and make changes but i gotta cut her loose for now#oh and in case it wasn't obvious this takes place like 2-ish yrs earlier than the main story#fic
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Idk maybe I’m stupid but can someone explain it to me like I’m 5 years old how Hannah has enabled or how her audience has pushed TERF ideas or rhetoric? Because it’s the one place the dots are not connecting for me every single time this conversation gets rehashed. I think it’s fine to disagree with how she’s acted in all of this, but it feels like taking what could just be called shitty or annoying and turning it into a moral issue when it doesn’t really NEED to be one to claim she or her audience are acting like TERFs. I just would like to hear one explicit example of how this is the case. Because I just cannot see how it’s “TERF-y” for a woman who has spent years facing immense levels of misogyny to make the decision to distance herself from friends who potentially victimized another woman which looks extremely horrible on the surface, even if her decision was made suddenly and under pressure. Whether she regrets it or not is not relevant to it; it just feels like an extreme lack of empathy to take how she reacted while under a microscope to a situation that looked horrible at first glance and claim it’s her pushing harmful ideas. Especially when she deleted most of her original tweets about it anyways and has not spoken on it since. And I don’t even mean this as hate, I am just genuinely asking. Because I don’t necessarily love her distancing herself either, I just also don’t see the reason to keep harping on her about it or making it into some huge moral issue where she is in the wrong when it does not have to be one. And especially when other women involved from the sidelines have done the same or more than her. Sometimes we can just say behaviors are shitty or nasty and leave it at that.
ehhh honestly that's not even a part of that ask that I was hard agreeing with and that's also just anons opinion, but also I myself wouldn't even go as far as to say "terf rhetoric enabler" (because I don't agree with that) but more so just concerned that she could be attracting a bad crowd in her fanbase unintentionally that some people wish she became more aware of.
last time i talked about this i was getting yelled at to hell and back and being purposefully misunderstood as claiming she was somehow creating a terf army in her fanbase which...let me be crystal fucking clear I AM NOT SAYING OR EVEN IMPLYING. Nor am I saying that her actions in response to the gogcident are somehow fueling terf ideologies. Not saying that at all and please don't think or claim I am saying that.
However, recently a decent amount of people have seen an increase in people in her fanbase (even some that she interacts pretty frequently with) start speaking using terf and specifically radfem phrases (notably during and right after the gogcident) which was raising some red flags for people who are either fans of hers or on the periphery. Now, I've said before that of course hannah probably does not know this and it's not her job to do a background check on everyone she follows on twitch and interacts with on twitter (that is just a ridiculous expectation). However, I think that when you speak a lot about feminist issues, etc. (all very important topics to discuss!) sometimes terfs and radfems just come into your community because they think you are all talking about the same things and have the same ideology. But, as your community grows and as that portion of your fanbase starts concerning people, I think it could be good for CCs to at least be aware of it. Personally, I have more issue with certain fans than with hannah herself but I do think some of her mods are shitty and she needs to stop it with the idea that "any friend of hers that makes a big mistake is no longer a friend" because that's just not going to hold up for very long in the real world.
As per her reaction to the george situation: yeah it was incredibly shitty and honestly I think she could have been fine waiting a bit before making responses because her quick jumps to conclusions (and shooting friendly fire at sylvee in the process) without talking to anyone involved first was a very foolish thing to do and disappointed a lot of people.
I feel like a broken record for constantly having to say this but I get that these female CCs want to do good by the women in the gaming space, i get it. But sometimes they make impactful mistakes and publicly react to situations poorly and I will say that about any cc who I think makes a poor call, guy or gal. I will always have empathy for people reacting badly to initial news dropping like this because I don't know what these people have gone through in their lives, but what I don't have as much empathy for is people immediately broadcasting their initial emotional thoughts all over twitter and then backpedaling when they realize they were being too extreme or emotional. I have criticized Dream for that, and I will criticize Hannah for that.
And you're right not everything needs to be a moral discussion! I don't really agree with people that are trying to heavily mix these two discussions because I honestly don't think they really coincide that much anyway.
I will never say her reaction is "terf-y" because it's just not. These are two separate discussions in my mind so to put them together in that way just isn't something I necessarily will agree with. And I've said this probably 10 times at this point, that I have never once said Hannah intentionally fueling terf/radfem rhetoric in her fanbase. I'm saying it's a somewhat inevitable byproduct of being a large female CC who speaks on feminism and misogyny on the internet. It happens to tiktokers, youtubers, other streamers, etc. This is not a hannah specific issue but people in the mcyt see it with some of her fans because she's simply just a larger female CC so of course her fans are more easy to spot. (same logic on a larger scale applies to the few bad apple dream stans that get the spotlight because of how popular dream is)
Hopefully this makes sense, it is nearly midnight for me right now so I am very tired but I wanted to answer this as thoroughly as I could because it's always an important distinction I want to make and I hate being misunderstood.
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Where in the World is the Real Professor Avalon?
Palladium x Reader
I had been keeping an eye on Avalon ever since he came to the school, especially due to his entrance. I mean really he could have just talked with Faragonda, or at least cleared the methods with her! While this had made Faragonda and the other professors wary in the beginning they had all warmed up to him rather quickly. Almost too quickly...
But no matter how much I talked to him there was always something… off about him. Something I couldn’t quite place, and I didn’t like how close Bloom was getting to him. I understand why she wanted to talk to him, she was desperate to understand herself and her powers. Something Avalon had promised to provide answers too. I would be the same in her place, but that didn’t give me any comfort when Bloom would spend time alone with him. So I had been spying on them, I know it wasn’t really the most appealing method. But after Bloom was spelled the first time (recently coming out of Avalons office I might add) I had to make sure that wouldn’t happen again. So I had been keeping an eye on her using an enchantment all of my own creation. Any dark magic that made itself known around bloom would make my ring buzz. Naturally her tight knit group of friends have done their best to keep her safe. But that isn’t enough, plus they’re teenagers. Easily trusting, and easily distractible...
Then a gentle voice pulled me from my musings.
“What are you still doing here?” Asked Athos, leaning against my desk.
The last class had just let out, but I hadn’t gotten around to leaving my classroom just yet. At least I thought the last period had let out, until I glanced at the clock. Just how long had I been sitting here lost in thought?
“Sorry Athos, I guess I just lost track of time...” I said, looking into the amber eyes of Professor Palladium.
We had known each other since I started work here a year or two after my graduation from Alfea. He ran into me during one of the faculty gatherings, spilled tea all over my skirt. But I couldn't hold a grudge, or even be angry really. Especially since he had bought me a replacement only the day after. We became fast friends after that. He asked me out my second year at the school, (after his confidence boosting change in appearance) and we had been happily dating since. Which only Stella and Flora had figured out, Flora because she often stays back to talk with Athos about nature related topics. Stella found out because she is a drama and relationship bloodhound. Thankfully Faragonda (L/n)sn't seem to know of (or mind really) our relationship.
Athos smiled knowingly, "don't worry too much about it. Let's just head out, I want to show you something in the glade."
That brought a grin to my face, the glade. Correction, our glade. Something Athos and I had found while looking for a plant for one of his classes. It's a beautiful place, a ring of ancient willows surrounding a sparkling blue lake. The grass is covered with clovers and bushy wild flowers. I still keep the four leaf clover he found for me when we found the glade. I spelled into a tiny glass pendant with a gold chain to hang around my neck.
"This isn't another 'surprise' is it?" I asked playfully.
Palladium flushed, "it was one time! I knew I shouldn't have asked that blasted pixie for help." He grumbled.
I let out a laugh, not able to witness Athos' face soften and a gentle blush return to his cheeks.
We are walking through the woods outside the school, nearly to the glade when Athos goes behind me and covers my eyes. Carefully guiding me into the glade.
"Oh, so it is a surprise~" I chortled.
"Oh hush," he said, with a chuckle.
Then with a flourish of his strong yet delicate hand, he revealed the most magical thing I had seen.
Little glowing orbs were dancing around the trees and above the flowers, clearly enchanted to glow and swaying softly to the tune being played by an unmanned harp at the waters' glittering edge. In the middle of it all was a picnic set up on a beautifully embroidered quilt. A dainty tea set with intricate china plates lay on a short wooden tray of sorts.
The gasp of awe was involuntary, Athos grabbed my hand and gently led my frozen feet to the blanket, then swiftly pulled me into him. I was ripped out of my stupor and fell with a shout.
After regaining my senses, looking a flushed Palladium in the eye. He was so adorably red, I couldn't help but laugh. He seemed as shocked by my fall as I did! Athos joined me with a chuckle of his own, then stilled.
Athos fixed me with those amber eyes, brimming with a yet unknown emotion. Those deep, warm, gentle, eyes. Just as I was about to lean in, my ring buzzed.
"Bloom!" I stood with a shout.
"What? What are you talking about?" Athos asked, confused, moving to stand.
"There's no time! Bloom's in danger!" I shouted before quickly teleporting to her location.
I looked around the room I had popped into, seeing Bloom in a yellow bubble. Avalon standing menacingly behind her, face and body glowing with red marks.
"Bloom look out!" I shouted and quickly shot a spell at Avalon.
But it bounced off the bubble they were in, Avalon letting out a wicked bark of laughter. Throwing a dark orb of magic at me and everything went black.
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Palladium was frantic, what did you sense? How were you able to teleport so quickly to Bloom? How did you know that she was even in danger? These questions and many like it flooded his thoughts as he ran back to Alfea as fast his long legs could carry him.
Athos Palladium returned to an all too silent campus… What horrible thing had (Y/n) been trying to prevent? Was Bloom alright? He only just registered his surroundings before storming into Faragonda, so consumed by his own spiraling thoughts.
"You're looking for (Y/n) aren't you?" She said solemn but matter of fact.
How had she known? But before he could say anything Faragonda beckoned him to her office. Closing the door behind her and walking gracefully to her desk.
"I know about you and (Y/n)." Faragonda started.
Athos' eyes widened with shock, but he remained silent awaiting what Faragonda was going to say next.
"But I believe Professor (L/n) has been kidnapped along with Bloom. That both of them have been taken to Shadow Haunt, I'm not sure what Lord Darkar wants with (Y/n), but I am certain he has every intention to use Bloom's dragonfire to get to the Realix realm."
That answers some of Palladiums questions, replacing his mild panic with a deep sense of dread.
"What do we do now?" Athos' mind was too bogged down with worry to think.
"There isn't much we can do I'm afraid, but the Winx Club is putting together a rescue party with some of the red fountain boys. The same ones that helped when Stella and Bloom went to save the pixies." Said Faragonda almost conspiratorially.
“What? You’re letting them storm Shadow Haunt all by themselves!?” Athos said incredulous, he knew the girls were capable but facing Darkar all by themselves?
“They certainly won’t be, the red fountain boys will be helping them. Apparently one of them has a connection with the underworlders there… But we are ready to step in if anything were to happen that our girls cannot handle.”
So that’s what they did, Palladium bid the students adieu. Then went to watch them on a scrying spell in Faragonda’s office, with the other headmasters on standby. Which honestly Athos was a little surprised at, he didn’t know that Faragonda had such a long history with them. They were talking with a familiarity only very old friends would have.
The Winx Club was doing surprisingly well against the Shadow Haunt monsters, the girls even undoing the gloomix enchantment on them. But things got serious when a particularly large monster cornered Stella and Aisha (Layla). That’s when things really got into motion.
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With the headmasters distracting Darkars lackey, Athos escorts the girls with the pixie elders. They gather the shards required to create a secondary portal to the Realix realm, but before the girls are able to make their way through, another fairy comes through the portal. A very familiar fairy.
It was (Y/n), but there was something off about her, there was a darkness in her aura. Even her clothes and hair seemed darker, and more jagged than her usual appearance. Then with a growl, she launched a plasma sphere at Aisha, who was only just able to dodge it.
“Professor (L/n)?! What happened to you?” Stella exclaimed in shock. Dodging yet another bolt of magic from the corrupted fairy.
“She must have been affected by Darkar’s magic! He most likely used a similar enchantment on bloom! Hurry girls, through the portal! I’ll hold her off…” Palladium shouted, his hands sparking to life with magic, throwing a sphere at (Y/n). Which she deflected, but the attack served its purpose, the girls were able to sneak through the portal and with (Y/n) preoccupied by Athos she didn’t even notice the portal closing. That was until it was too late…
“YOU SIMPLETON! You think those prissy fairies will be able to stop Lord Darkar and Bloom!? They’ll be destroyed!” (Y/n) screeched, then let out a wicked cackle.
Then Athos and (Y/n) went hand to hand for what felt like ages. Each landing a hit and then returning the favor, it got to the point where both of them were panting, and disheveled. Athos took a good long look at (Y/n). Her (h/c) hair was messy and almost entirely pulled from it’s usual style, giving her a deranged edge to her already twisted appearance. Her skin had a sheen of sweat, and there were several burn marks in her clothes, he was sure his appearance matched. But behind those glaring (e/c) eyes, a familiar spark was seen, one he missed so dearly in the moment. And before he could stop himself he said,
“What did Darkar do to the woman I love?”
“What?” Said (Y/n) the venom only just receding from her voice. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Athos.
Ignoring (Y/n)’s question Athos asked another question with thinly veiled hope.
“Do you love me?”
“Do I what?!” She nearly shouted, the wickedness in her voice starting to fade.
He could do nothing but smile softly, seeing that familiar spark start to grow.
“Do you love me?” He asked again, a glint of knowing twinkling in his eye.
“You’re a fool!” (Y/n) seethed, but once again the anger seemed more fabricated than the last.
Athos let out a tired laugh, “I know, but do you love me?” Then he continued, “Because, though I haven’t said it before. I’m sure of it now, however strange that may seem. That without a doubt I love you. I love your kindness, and patience. I love just how confident you are, you get along with the students so well! But they all respect you, I can see it. They admire you, and how capable you are. I love you, all of you. Do. you. love. me?”
At those words (Y/n) was bathed in a bright light, making Athos close his eyes due to its intensity. Then as quickly as it came, the light faded and before he could even blink the black spots out of his eyes he felt a soft and warm body envelop him in a hug. Feeling warm and wet tears fall on his exposed shoulder,
“I’m so sorry,” (Y/n) sobbed into his shoulder “I saw- I felt what I was doing, but-but I couldn’t stop! I’m so, so sorry Athos…”
Athos returned the embrace full force, rubbing calming circles in (Y/n)’s back, “Don’t worry about that, I knew it wasn’t really you. I’m just glad I’ve got you back now.” He said soothingly.
“Did you mean what you said?” (Y/n) asked hesitantly.
Athos paused for a moment, a blush rushing to his pale face. He just now realizes that was the first time either of them had said those life changing three words. Just then his blasted nerves decided to get the best of him, his carefully cultivated confidence flying right out the window.
“E-eh, We-well of c-cor-course I did-d” He said, face getting even redder and cursing his blasted nerves.
Not that (Y/n) seemed to mind, letting out a cute chortle and kissing him on the cheek.
“You are wonderful Athos, I love you too.” She said.
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Back with another Miko question! I know Miko is a bard but does he like to play for others or does he play mostly for himself? What's his favorite instrument to play, can he play more than one? Do you have a playlist or any certain songs that you could see him playing (or playing a FFXIV version of, e.g. replacing names of places or gods with ones from XIV?)
Okay so this one is a bit complicated for me to answer I think cuz this is kinda a topic about Miko I get a little nervous about lol music is a huge part of his character and I always get a little worried I make this part of him a little dumb. But alas I'm just gonna, as they say, yolo this so enjoy lol
But yes yes yes! Miko loves playing for people! He will play for the sheer entertainment to get people into the music and dance or he'll just play to keep someone company. He doesnt mind and he's usually pretty good on judging the situation and what is appropriate. but he does also play for himself, yes. especially if he is a bit down, but he'll mostly just play cuz he can and its something to do and he likes it. he also hums a lot which might drive some people nuts but at least its pretty lol
His best instrument is his voice, of course xD but no really his favorite is the violin! I see miko being strangely skilled at picking up just about any instrument tbh. all he needs to do is listen and watch someone play it for a moment and he can easily just fall right in and follow along. like the morin khuur from the steppe i just see him having gone big eye zoomies on the people playing those at the time cuz he'd never seen them before and was itching to give them a try lol (tbh im kinda thinking his music skill is probably something he inherited from his azem. that guy was probably coming up with insane songbird concepts and shoving them at hythlodaeus and the poor guy would have to tell him to chill out lol) but miko leans more towards string instruments like the violin, harp, guitar. something about the quickness of the fingers and the violin having a bow tickles him cuz he also wields a bow in battle lol but he's always down to playing anything given the opportunity. but yeah okay this is long winded but if miko has to pick one instrument as his go to its a violin and his voice.
which okay now as for songs im gonna drop some links here and pray they dont break. i do have a playlist for him but its a mess of inspirations and random songs that just make me think of him and i feel kinda weird linking it so im just gonna pick out a few that are big inspirations for him. which first off miko has huge celtic violin/fiddle vibes so if youre ever curious what miko would just play offhand just look up any of that xD
a song that ive always felt is very HIM since the very beginning has been Andrew's Song by End of Silence. i can just always picture him singing something like this for some reason about his journey. it also kinda sounds like a younger miko, perhaps arr time when he's just starting off, which i like lol
next i kinda find lindsey stirling's violin style to be a big inspiration for him especially Between Twilight. this one is especially something he'd play on the violin just to play. not to perform or anything but just the natural miko music, if that makes sense lol
as for when playing other instruments i basically see him being like this and this where he can just basically use the whole instrument to make any kind of song or just play anything with ease. also really love the idea of him being so quick with a lot of them like that xD
now this is where i get a little embarrassed cuz i do actually have a singing voice claim for miko and its that peter hollens guy on youtube. which has the range and very disney prince-esque sound to it. i'll link his version of Sleepsong here for quick reference cuz i do really like that song as like an example of a lullaby his real mom wouldve sang to him when he was little. also speaking of lullabies with mom i like imagining The Song from Song of the Sea as basically what baby miko singing with his mom would be like lol
now as for some songs that i just especially associate with him as a little bonus here i think this version of Into the Unknown would basically be miko's pre-shadowbringers song he'd sing at the exarch if ffxiv was a musical LOL and then for rage miko (because he does have a deep anger in him i mean what wol doesnt? lol) definitely Burn by 2WEI. and lastly, just gonna toss this one out there too, but i really like this version of The Musician as like basically something maybe his Azem and Hydaelyn would sing to him as a prayer i dunno lol
but okay *wheezes* i hope that covers enough lol now im gonna hide in the shadows again >_>;
#omg pls you dont have to listen to all those links i got kinda carried away lol#but ive thought a lot about miko and his music#and just how much its ingrained in his very being#i really hope all those links work tho and the readmore works prays!!#anyway ty again for asking ;3;#miko jinjahl
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Hey it's me 🫡, is 3:22 AM and just wanted to ask to things :3
Like always the most important, how are you feeling today? is was a good day? maybe eated something nice?
And the second one, like in every ship space, we like to see our creatures loving each other but, in relationship there's some tension/fights, maybe silly stuff or important stuff, so my question is,
How you imaginate Ibuki and Hiyoko arguing?
like, maybe Ibuki forget to wash the dishes, or Hiyoko make a heavy joke that upset Ibuki..
Also, how they manage to apologize and still loving each other.
Take care🧡🧡🧡 , Drink water and eat apples to keep Mikan away /j
Always glad to be on bad sleep schedules together <3 I've had a very long type of day! Not bad, just lots going on. I hope you're doing well in spite of the 3 AM-ness of it all
This is a really interesting thing to think about, because one of the reasons Hiyoko and Ibuki's relationship is so strong is that Ibuki sees straight past when Hiyoko is lashing out to the root of the issue. Ibuki has an exceptionally high emotional intelligence (though she doesn't always act on it, due to also having a very high "do whatever makes you happy!" They shouldn't do what makes them happy this time, Ibuki. They're committing murders), so I think she'd realize more or less the moment her free-wheeling went too far for Hiyoko and back down.
I think someone would have to go really, really far to genuinely make Ibuki mad. The fastest way would be to act snobby about music and the arts, which Hiyoko would never do. I do think that Ibuki has a bit of a "smile and repress it" issue about her own issues, even if it's not to the same extent as, say, Hina. But again, I think that Ibuki has so much emotional awareness, she would know when to step away and how to broach that topic again once she was feeling better (though Hiyoko would stew in some big guilt in the meantime!). I think Ibuki would be very cuddly and affectionate either way, and Hiyoko would do a whole tsundere routine of pretending not to cuddle up to her.
This whole ballgame changes while they're remnants. Ibuki's emotional intelligence can be a very sharp weapon when needed, as - obviously - is Hiyoko's tendency to lash out. Ibuki intentionally harping on Hiyoko's weak points, and Hiyoko taking the resulting anger out on as many innocent ants she can find? (because that is how they look, from the stage - a thousand tiny ants, traveling up and down their little hills, busy busy workers in the sand waiting to get squished -) That's some despair! And then in the aftermath they come together and have some nasty sex. Toxic yuri, babey!
#asks#zombyne#headcanons#meta#hiyobuki#sdr2#talk to the mod#hiyoko saionji#ibuki mioda#i hope you get some sleep tonight!! always love seeing you in my inbox <3
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Hi Rachel! Hope things are going well for you! I was wondering, since this is a frequent topic on your blog/channel, how do you still enjoy your work while letting go of perfectionism? Enjoying what I write is super important to my process and with keeping me going, but the constant over-worrying and embarrassment of what I put down really slows me down and leaves me feeling terrible lol... I know I need to learn to think differently of my own work but I’m a bit uncertain of where to start and what else I could try and appreciate instead. Sorry if this is too vague or broad of a question! No pressure to come up with a solid, one answer or anything. Just hearing your thoughts/experiences would be helpful!
This is a really, really good question! I wrote THIS ask that sort of addresses this too, if you haven't already seen it!
I think at the end of the day, loving your writing despite perfectionism all comes down to graceful self-compassion. Not every day is going to be perfect. Sometimes I still hate my writing (me! right! now!), and it's good to know that ahead of time. If I'm aware I'm not always going to like my work (which is realistic for me), I can then also tell myself that it doesn't make sense to harp too long on things I don't like when my opinion will inevitably change.
Some days it's really about gritting your teeth and pretending you like the work (also! me! right! now!). Find words or lines or images you like and focus your energy there!
One of the mistakes I made when first endeavoring on my writing self-love journey was making goals that were too big. I remember when I wrote Moth Work, the goal was "let's just dump all my shit writing here and see where that goes" and where that went was me developing severe perfectionism LOL. I then went alllll the way to other extreme and was like "okay well let me make all this writing perfect" which is literally an impossible task! Eventually I found the middle.
Now, I'm able to write something like Seventh Virtue and be like "ah yes, let me dump all my shit writing here" because the project also demands different things. For MW, it made no sense to ask myself of that when a HUGE part of what I enjoyed about writing that book was the actual prose itself (I mean makes sense, it's literary fiction). For SV, the prose is important, but not THE most important thing, so my goal of "don't care what happens I just want to have fun" is more feasible within those genre constraints.
So perhaps look at the project you're writing & see where you can create a realistic goal for yourself? I find asking what I like about the project helps inform those goals. So as I said, I liked the pretty prose in MW, so I wanted to retain that. The goal then became, "alright, I'll draft what I can in the moment, and I'll accept that at points, I'm not going to feel comfortable and I will feel cringe and I will feel embarrassed. But after my drafting session, I'll come back and tinker with the draft if needed" (this is actually how I'm currently writing BODY BACK haha).
For Seventh Virtue, I'm quite sensitive to the plot being causally warranted, so the goal is "okay, I'll try to draft each scene from the previous so a firmer causal chain is created, but I will miss scenes, write scenes that aren't needed, etc, and that's fine because I can address that later."
When I realized I could tailor my goal for the specific project, things really opened up for me because it showed me I didn't need to stick to one writing process. On here, y'all get basically first draft Seventh Virtue (99% of it hasn't been touched since coming out of my brain), but get a franken first draft-ish (sometimes 2nd or 3rd) of BB because I cycle through phrasings in my mind while I write (which I don't do in SV LOL). Those are two different drafting processes, so they deserve two different goals so I can better enjoy them.
Also I would say... don't be afraid of discomfort. Writing is so uncomfortable sometimes. I mean look at me in 2020--I HATEEDDD MW! And now it's like... the best thing I've ever written, IMO. We're not objective critics of our own work when we go into it hating it so much (or being embarrassed/ashamed by it, etc, whatever emotion fits your current situation). So that shows us the feelings we're having are feelings, not facts. And feelings are good to have! But they don't have to dictate everything forever. Feel them, and then *try* to accept them and move on. That might not be easy, but the more you do it, the easier it becomes.
I used to STRESS so much when a sentence/scene/paragraph wasn't working. Is that how I explain the 30-60k of each novel I cut between 2018-2020? Yep! Now I stress a little less. And I hardly cut things until I get to the actual revision process (~2k/project).
Okay finally, I've been meaning to use this analogy and this is the perfect timing for it. I've been learning the fun fingerstyle guitar in Jeff Buckley's version of Corpus Christie Carol for almost two months now. When I first started learning that song, LOL, I couldn't play ANYYYY of it. It confused me. I was frustrated. But, I genuinely knew that if I kept practicing, it'd sound 100% better a couple months from now. And now I can almost play it well haha.
It's funny how writers (me included!) forget that practice and failing and sounding bad and writing nonsense is a very important part of the process, but how in other art forms, it's just a given. My brother is an incredible musician and I would never expect him to play a riff perfectly on the first go when he's only heard it once or twice. When he makes mistakes when playing, I either don't notice at all or don't care because it's a given. I just KNOW that as a musician, if I keep practicing, I'll eventually get it (and I almost always do--in some cases, it's too hard and I quit, and that's fine to do too).
I'm actually learning a new song on guitar rn, I'll record it and put it in a video as a visual haha. The amount of times you play the exact same note over and over again... The amount of times you KNOW you're playing the wrong thing but keep playing it wrong anyway because it hasn't quite clicked... It's all part of it! I still enjoy that practice, because it's fun! We can apply that to writing too.
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When Valtor and Griffin where in a relationship, did they fight? How did a fight between them looks like? Was it over more days or just a few hours? And did the rest of the circle knew when they are argued like was it a big thing? And would Valtor apologize if he was in the wrong?
They did fight, of course. They're both very opinionated, stubborn and egotistical so there would have been no way they didn't clash over things, pretty much on the regular. They are also both very focused and driven, though, so if it was a work-related argument, they could put it aside or find a compromise for the moment until they were back to base where both could keep harping about why their own strategy would have been much more efficient than the improvisation they had to do.
I imagine that where it comes to strategy or Griffin's own magic is concerned, Valtor can see reason and concede to her from time to time. However, if they're fighting about personal stuff, I can see him humoring her if he doesn't mind super much but if the topic really ticks him off, he would shut it down immediately. That causes frustration to boil under the surface, though, and it might escalate to a physical fight but there it's pretty much the same thing. He might let her win if he's feeling generous or deems it beneficial for expelling the negativity between them that would be messing with the success of their work. Otherwise, he would just not hold back and win regardless of how much effort and power Griffin puts into it. He is way more powerful, after all.
That still leaves an underlying lingering sense of frustration, though, and boggles down the whole relationship but Valtor is just so convinced that he knows Griffin better than she knows herself and he's so good at deciding her emotions for her that he doesn't realize he's setting up the decay of their relationship and her betrayal.
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I saw a post about JK Rowling and how she's discriminatory towards trans men and nonbinary people too and it actually made a very good example of the problem i have with the "transmisandry is a thing" discourse
So JK Rowling wrote an essay about how trans men and afab nonbinary people, especially! those with autism! are like lost little lambs who are just following a trend and don't know what's best for themselves. How ironic! people decry. The terf is using misogynist arguments regarding the inability for afab people to stand up for themselves and their "inherently female" people-pleasing tendencies to argue against their self determination. Maybe the real misogynist was the terf all along. Etc
Who do you think that JK Rowling is BLAMING for this? Who do you think is the group JKR is implying is DOING the brainwashing?
To act like JKR is "also!" attacking trans men and nonbinary people because she has some kind of special hatred in her heart towards them and NOT because her transmisogyny is so deep that she believes the Evil Trans Women are brainwashing the Poor Innocent Female Children is disingenuous at best and transmisogynist at worst.
#look i know i keep coming back to this topic and harp on it a lot#i just dont see where trans men are systemically and institutionally punished for being men#like yeah we face a ton of systemic and institutional bullshit but it can all be chalked up to being trans rather than being men#and could it be a useful word to describe the alienating experience of being dismissed by the 'ew men are icky' crowd? sure#but i dont think its an actual systemic institutional axis of oppression tbqh! it stems from transphobia#or in the case of jkr and other 'trans men are my sisters' types it can even stem from transmisogyny
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Alucard and the Night (SMUT)
Alucard X F Reader Smut/NSFW
Summary: You and Alucard just cant see eye to eye on how to keep the villagers from freezing come winter.
Dust particles flew into the air creating a storm of wisps flying in front of your vision. You waved your hand in front of your face defensively as the dust swirled. Involuntarily you coughed, stepping cautiously into the room you’d finally managed to pry open.
“Wow” you said as your eyes adjusted to the dark room and the dark shapes and figures began to become real items and things. It was an instrument room. You recognized the billowing and curving figure of a bass in the corner and the stoic and graceful stance of a grand piano in the middle of the room. And oh- was that a harp you saw there towards the back of the room?
You’d been methodically entering each room in the large castle that once belonged to the feared and respected Vlad Tepes, otherwise known as Dracula. Nowadays it belonged to his son and your husband, Adrian Tepes, or Alucard. He’d have reprimanded you if you’d said the castle was his though. Now that it was the new town of Belmont, fondly named after Trevor Belmont, your brother, and it belonged to the people that lived there.
And while hutches and tents were livable sure, you didn’t quite understand why the residents of the new town couldn’t live in the castle that was just, there. Sypha seemed to agree with your assessment. In the winters it would get cold and hutches and tents were not going to do anything to fend of the freezing cold. And if it were to grow into a healthy little town surely we wouldn't want the women giving birth in unsterile grass.
Alucard had been more wary of moving residences in the great castle which had clearly more than enough room to house the people of Belmont.
“Even I haven’t scoured through all of the rooms in my father’s castle. From what I have seen this place is not meant to be a home but a stronghold.” He had said at one of the town meetings that at the moment was just you, Alucard, Sypha and Trevor.
“So are we going to build an entirely new town in front of it?” Trevor asked with an eyebrow raised. “Doesn’t seem like that’s possible before winter come.”
Sypha nodded in rare agreement with Trevor. Even though they were lovers they both seemed to have different ideas about everything. And this was the one thing they seemed to agree about. While you and Alucard hardly disagreed over anything and this was the one thing you couldn’t see eye to eye on.
“We could house the people in the castle during winter and start building once the snow has gone.” Sypha suggested with another nod to Trevor. You were annoyed, you realized by how in sync they were about this while you were feeling… out of touch with Alucard everytime the subject was broached.
Alucard seemed to ponder on this thought. “That doesn't answer the question about the danger the people might be in if we stick them in random rooms in the castle. There are many things we don’t know about the castle and any number of things could happen there.”
“I could clear it.” You spoke aloud. Perhaps your first words since the topic had come up in the meeting. You felt Alucard’s eyes on you, for the first time since the meeting had started. You didn’t want to meet his eyes, you knew what would be there, some warning or shouting for you to leave it alone, and be on his side of things. Instead you looked to Sypha and Trevor who were a little more enthusiastic to hear your plan.
“I can map out the castle. It shouldn’t be to hard.” You said. “ Go room by room and mark down whats going on in each place and note down what can be used as shelter. I can get that done before the snow starts to cap the mountains.”
Sypha looked energized. It made sense that she’d be on the same page as you. Baby Trefor, as you’d all been jokingly calling the unborn child, would be due mid winter and it wasn’t ideal to have them in the cold. And Trevor of course agreed.
“That’s a great idea!” Sypha was saying nodding happily along. You risked a glance behind you at Alucard who was, as you suspected, glancing warily at you. You didn’t like how silent he was but how loud his face could be.
“That’s dangerous as well.” He was saying now, his arms folding in defiance and looking away.
“I must think on this.” He said shortly after, shutting down anymore conversation by simply standing up and stalking away.
---
That had been a week ago, and try as they may, Sypha and Trevor couldn't strike the conversation back up with the man. You had your own plans, mainly going behind his back and mapping the castle out anyway. There was no way you were going to let the children of Belmont freeze. Least of all your nephew.
Mapping the gigantic castle though was a little more of a task than you’d originally thought. It consumed most of your day, especially when you were trying hard not to raise your husband’s suspicions. That out of sync feeling continued and plagued your sleep. And not being able to sleep is what lead you to grab your parchment and head down the hallways of the castle into the instrument room.
The rooms lamps turned on by themselves as you began to walk inside. It was a beautiful little room that other than the dust cluttering the instruments, seemed to be a room that was cared for.
Seemingly drawn in by its shape you came closer to the grand piano, gently brushing back the dust and webs from the seat and keys. It was beautiful. You pressed lightly to a key and a note rang out pure and golden to your ears. How wonderful. You had no idea how to play one, and you’d only ever heard one once before. You’d been traveling through Gresit and seen a show once with Trevor.
You pressed a few more keys, amazed at how the music came from the large instrument. It seemed to fill up the room and bounce from the walls and into your ears. Having been to wrapped up in the sounds of the piano you hadn’t realized that you were no longer alone in the room. Although you often smelled the sweet spices of Alucard before you heard him.
“Can’t sleep?” He asked. And you jumped your fingers crashing none to graceful against the keys, creating a less than beautiful sound. Your parchment had fallen from your side at your movement and fallen to the floor. Alucard was at the door, wearing a soft silken night shirt that you’d woven him and his night pants. You’d never ceased to be amazed by how beautiful he was with his long flowing blond hair. He smiled at you from the door and came into the room quietly, picking up your map.
“What’s this?” He asked, sleep scattered over his voice. You bit your lip, caught in your plans.
“Well…” You trailed off.
His face hardened some as he realized what it was. He sighed as he rolled it up and gazed at you. The candle lights along the wall casting hard shadows on his face.
“You’ve been trolling through the castle.”
“Well, you’ve hardly left me much choice.” You say looking down to the keys of the piano guiltily.
“I said I would think on it, did I not?”
“Yes but, that was a almost a fortnight ago and you haven't talked to me about it since.” You bit your lip looking away. “You’ve hardly talked to me about anything since really.”
It was Alucard’s turn to sigh and you looked back at his troubled face. There were always an array of emotions there even when he didn't speak.
“ I thought, perhaps you were angry with me.” He started. “ so I wanted to give you some space, I didnt think you were going behind my back in the castle though.”
You frowned. “Well, I was a bit angry, but just because you weren’t talking to me about it. You hold everything in and, carry so much and I…”
You paused taking a deep breath. “ I want to carry it with you. Thats what I signed up for. I want you to trust me, that I can do this with you. You don’t have to do it alone. I’m… Im sorry that I went behind your back I just thought, I could do it and show you that you can trust me.”
You regretted looking at his face this time as it was completely unreadable. Had you broken him? Said something horribly wrong ? He came forward, crossing the short distance between you. You felt his cool fingers wrap around yours as he held your hand. It was nice being this close to him again.
“My love, I do trust you.” He said a small smile cracking his face. “It's my fathers misery that I don't trust. I stumbled across a booby trapped torture chamber, while walking around one day.” He continued “ Almost got my arm cut off from a wall spear, but I narrowly missed it with my speed.”
He let go of your hand to cup your face and you almost closed your eyes, thinking of how you’d missed him and his touch. “ It would kill me knowing you got hurt combing through these rooms. Or worse yet, you stumble upon some old stone that sends you to another dimension or something.”
You couldn't help the laugh that came out at the end of his last statement and he chuckled to the warmth coming back to his face. “ Stranger things have happened, you know.”
You nodded a playful smile upon your lips. “Undoubtedly.”
“Listen,” Alucard said after a moment. “ I know we’ll have a hard time in the winter so I was thinking about something.”
“Oh?”
It was Alucard’s turn to smile. He pulled away from your but held out a hand to you. “ Let me show you something”
You took his hand and you were off. Vampire speed was something you were still getting used to but as you stopped Alucard was now holding you tightly to steady you.
“Thought I would spare you the walk.” He said, seemingly amused by how shocked you were from the speed.
“But my hair.” you said looking up at how your hair had decided to go everywhere in the wind.
“No fair, your hair is still perfect and shiny.” You said and Alucard laughed again, letting you go from his grip as he leaned over to carefully flatten down your hair again. Your breath stilled as he leaned over you, concentrating. His open shirt revealed his chest to you now and he smelled divine. Your mind was just starting to wonder as he finished, snapping you back to reality.
“There.”
You smiled and did a small bow. “ Thank you.” He rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand again. “It’s just past here.”
You followed as he opened two large double doors. They reminded you almost of the size of the front door by how large they were. But any thoughts you had slowly disappeared as the door was opened.
You gasped as Alucard led you into what you guessed would have been a ballroom. The size of the room was almost dizzying. The walls were covered in beautiful tapestry that reminded you of Alucard’s childhood room, the little you’d seen of it. And as you looked up you were stunned into silence.
Where you had just expected a ceiling you could see the night sky. The Ceiling seemed to be made of painted glass with exquisite drawings of the sky, animals and what looked like life. It was beautiful.
“My father made this, while my mother was alive.” Alucard mused. “ They would dance here all night, just the two of them. I never understood why the room was so big but.”
You looked down, expecting Alucard to be looking up still but he was gazing at you, a deep emotion in his face. “ Now I realized he needed space to fill his love for her.”
You swallowed hard, feeling more connected to Alucard now than you had in days. “That’s beautiful.” you whispered. “ This room its, beautiful.”
Alucard smiled again, tucking another hair behind your ear. He began to move and you followed him, realizing he was dancing. His feet shifted gracefully and you followed, grateful for his steady arm around your waist as you turned
“It is, and its also so large that everyone in the village could fit in it, three or even four times over.”
You beamed. “It would be perfect, Just for the winter!”
Alucard stepped back and you spun underneath his outstretched arm and then brought yourself closer to him.
“I think… it’s something that your mother would have loved.” You said softly as your swayed with the blond haired man. An emotion crossed his face before he leaned in close.
“Well then it’s settled.”
He kissed you, sweetly and deeply, bringing you impossibly closer and you felt a stirring in your gut that was familiar and full of pleasure.
“I love you.” He said huskily between kisses.
“I love you too.” your replied against his lips and daring a look in his eyes. They were on fire, much in the way you felt.
“Perhaps we should head back to bed.” you whispered after the second kiss.
“Perhaps.” He said back after the third. “ I could take us there rather quickly”
You smiled against his lips. ``As long as my hair stays in tact.”
He smiled almost wickedly this time. “ My dear, when I’m finished with you, your hair will be the last of your worries.”
You felt on fire at his words but could hardly gasp before you felt wind whipping past your face. You’d only blinked twice before your back was against the large bed that lay in the middle of your room.
“That wasn't so bad was it?.” He whispered as he hovered above you, peeling back your robe with quick fingers as he kissed you again.
As he’d gotten you naked he sat up, peeling back his own clothing and you could see the long healed gash across his chest. You sat up and traced your hand gently along it, meeting his eyes he seemed to be watch you breath baited. His eyes fell to your lips as you spoke.
“You’re so beautiful.” You blurted, heat rising to your cheeks after you’d said it. But the look in his eyes had gotten softer, he gently grabbed your hand in his and brought you in for another soft kiss. With gently movements he brought you back down onto your back again, hoving over you gently he kissed you again, and yout moan vibrated through your mouths as his fingers found their way to your core, teasing your clit and making your back arch up from the bed.
He rubbed neat circles with his fingers, your brain having trouble keeping up as he kissed down your neck and look one of your nipples into his mouth. You hissed, your hips bucking up against him, and you released a pleasure groan when he pressed down on your lower half with his free hand, pinning you to the bed.
“Fuck.” you whispered out your head pressing hard against the satin pillows below you as he circled his tongue around your sensitive breasts. His golden hair cascading down his face and coving you as he worked you closer to the edge.
“Baby” you managed to get out as he had picked up the pace, rubbing fast circles around your drenched cunt and gently bitting at your hardened nipples. It was a warning that you were going to unravel that he was choosing not to head. If anything this encouraged him on, he hummed a bit and you felt that traveling up your spine as your eyes closed, something deep within your unraveling as you came down hard.
As you opened your eyes again you both looked at each other and you couldnt control the loopy smile that graced your face and the giggle you let escape.
“Whats so funny love?” He asked softly and you sat up some, until you were eye level. You bit at the ponytail holder you had woven for yourself that rested on your wrist before leaning over and gathering up Alucards hair.
He seemed frozen in surprise as you collected it up gently but quickly and banded the hair together in a pony tail. “There.” You said.
“Do you, like it better this way ?” He asked.
“I like you every way.” you responded before shifting quickly and pushing him down on the bed. You were grateful that he went considering he was like a superhumanly strong vampire and could have resisted if he wanted.
Straddling him you leaned over his lips to kiss him, but barely ghosted your lips over his, teasing him. His hands ghosted up your outer thighs and you grabbed them pinning them down on the bed next to him.
“Mm mm” you whispered. “No touching.”
You didnt give him time to respond as slid your soaking cunt down on his throbbing cock. It was Alucard this time who moaned, a sweet sound you wanted to hear more of.
You stayed stationary for a moment, giving in to his kisses “I just want to make you feel good.” you whispered before lifting your hips and coming back down to the hilt. Eliciting those sweet groans from Alucard.
Lifting your hips you began to move at a strong pace, not bothering to hold in your moans anymore.
“Please.” He was asking underneath you, his eyes begging. “ I want to touch you.”
Well, since he asked so nice. You nodded and immediately his hands were on you, warmer than before, giving you support as your rode him, your hands pressed against his shoulders. He didnt seem to have anymore control as he bucked his hips into you, gasping at your warmth.
You could see them then, the sliding fangs that he kept sheathed most times around you. It seemed to take a lot of mental effort to keep them from showing but at times, like this when you were making love you could see the red in his eyes and the fangs peaking. Something about his vampire nature was reaching out.
Without warning, you were once again flipped onto your back, you moaned loudly as he re-entered you his pace unforgiving against your spot. You could feel his lips against your neck and could almost feel himself holding back.
He would never ask you, even though it was plain to see for you now that he craved it.
“Adrian.” You moaned out, grabbing his face to look at yours, he focused in on you his eyes still loving, even though his teeth were bared he brought his strokes down in speed, slowly sliding in and out of you.
“Its okay, you can do it, I want it.” you said softly turning your head so that your neck was more exposed.
“I - I dont want to hurt you.” He struggled out. Struggling fiercely with his vampiric need to lay claim on your neck.
“You won’t. I trust you.”
“Please.” you whimpered and you could feel the control slipping from him as his hips began to buck again, leaving you breathless. He buried his face into your neck as your gripped his back, staring at the ceiling in pleasure.
You felt the sharpness of his teeth graze your neck before he huskily whispered. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
You gasped as you felt the immediate pain of his teeth latching to your neck, but the pain was gone in an instant replaced by a pleasure you were finding hard to describe. You gripped against your chest as your panted, his hard strokes into your cunt and teeth in your neck sending you over.
“Fuck, Adrian!” you managed to cry out, your eyes smashing together as you came again, feeling him closely follow you, holding your tight as he came into you, groaning into your neck.
With a gasp he released your neck, breathing heavily above your face. For only a moment you could see a trickle of blood on his lips but with a swift move of his tongue it was gone.
You couldnt help but touch your neck where his teeth had been, feeling a tinge of pleasure at the thought of his teeth there again.
“Did I- Did I hurt you?” Concern was apparent on Alucards face, as his teeth were no longer fangs and the ponytail holder had slipped, leaving his hair down his shoulders again.
You shook your head, a smile creeping on your face again. “Quite the opposite, I think.”
It was his turn to smile as he brought himself down for a final kiss. “ I love you, Y/N”
“I love you too,- “
----------------------
#Alucard#alucard castlevania#alucard x reader#alucard x reader smut#castlevania#trevor belmont#alucard x you#im sorry i will proof read this soon lmfao#anyways missed yall
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Part of why I harp on about Last Laugh all the time is because its not just about Dick killing the Joker which is what Jason always wanted someone to do for him, to know that he mattered enough for that......but also when you erase Last Laugh or discard it because it just doesn’t fit into your perception of the characters as fanon has dictated, like.......another huge factor of the Jason-Bruce-Dick dynamic falls by the wayside as well.
And that’s how Jason’s not only always been convinced that Bruce would kill to avenge Dick’s death.....but in ADDITION, Jason has always been convinced that Bruce would be more forgiving of the kinds of actions Jason has taken, aka murder, if Dick had been the one doing it.
Because see....the other thing Last Laugh showed aside from Dick’s feelings about Jason’s death......is that Bruce very much was NOT okay with what Dick had done. Bruce always said he brought back the Joker because he knew Dick wouldn’t be able to live with having done that, but IMO it was NEVER about what Dick could or couldn’t live with, it was about what BRUCE could live with Dick having done.
Because regardless of the Joker being resuscitated.....Dick was still keenly aware of the fact that he’d still beaten him to death first. Jason’s resurrection, Dick being revived after his own death, those never erased the impact of their actual deaths, rendered them moot, and neither did resuscitating the Joker. If Jason died and it matters? Coming back doesn’t make that unmatter. If Dick only was dead for a couple minutes tops, that doesn’t mean Luthor DIDN’T kill him and he wasn’t still dead; he’d still actually died.
The same is true of the Joker’s death, no matter how short-lived it was. Dick still DID it. Dick was still very cognizant of that. Dick actually struggled with this for a number of issues, though I don’t think that really was about regretting what he’d done so much as that he’d let the Joker ‘win’.....AND it was ALSO about how Bruce saw him now.
And IMO you can’t argue that Bruce only resuscitated the Joker for DICK’S sake and because DICK couldn’t live with that.....when Bruce notably, distinctly, NEVER EVER EVER actually....engaged Dick on the topic of what he’d done there.
Ever.
He went back to Gotham and never made a single appearance to help Dick process things, even when others like Wally showed up in Bludhaven while Dick was holing himself away from the world. Bruce and Dick literally NEVER spoke of it again. Because Bruce wasn’t okay with what Dick had done. He didn’t know how to forgive him or look past it, so he basically did everything in his power to make it so it basically never happened.
And the difference with UTRH is....when Jason showed up, by the time Bruce knew it was him, pretending Jason hadn’t done the things that Jason wasn’t the least bit ashamed of was never actually even an option.
So I don’t actually think Bruce is any more inclined to forgive Dick of things like murder because its Dick.....I think Bruce had to force+quit all thoughts of Dick actually killing, in order to preserve his relationship with Dick.
(Even though his relationship with Dick still suffered, because Dick was still keenly aware that Bruce was not okay with what he’d done, and like, not trying to understand WHY Dick had done it or that he was actually maybe okay with having done it albeit outside of the context of it having played into what the Joker wanted him to do. Like, Dick after Last Laugh still very much angsted about Bruce’s assessment of him after it, and did need that reassurance that Bruce still loved him and forgave him....and what Bruce actually gave him is “I’ll agree to never reference it as having happened and look past it for the sake of our relationship” which is very much NOT the same thing. And with, as I’ve also gone into before, this no doubt being HUGELY central to why Dick was so lost and shaken by his fears of having let Bruce down AGAIN by letting Blockbuster die. These things are absolutely connected.)
The flip side of this is that......I don’t think Bruce was any LESS inclined to ‘forgive’ Jason of murder just because he was Jason and not Dick. In that case, it was just more about the fact that there was no way for Bruce to even TRY to force+quit out of his awareness of what Jason had done. Denial wasn’t going to cut it in the same way it had with Dick, because Dick’s ‘crime’ had been one and done.
But THEN, the flip side of THAT - or maybe we’re just on a tangent now, oh hell, who can keep track, let’s all just agree that flips were flipped and tangents were...tangented - like, the other interesting facet of this for me is if Bruce HADN’T been so intent on forcibly ignoring or forgetting that Dick had killed the Joker, for the sake of their relationship or whatever, or if someone else had brought it up - not only could this have improved Dick and Jason’s relationship, it also could have forced Bruce to confront the logical fallacy inherent in like...his MAIN ARGUMENT for why he was so deadset against Jason’s choices.
And that all goes back to how Bruce has a tendency to project his own worst flaws onto his children, and be paranoid that they’re going to go down the same dark paths he constantly is trying to keep himself from straying down - ironically in part due to how he uses his childrens’ similarities to him in order to build common ground and see a place and purpose for himself in their lives in the first place. He sees himself in his children, that’s what draws him to them in the first place, and makes him act to bring them into his own life and build a home for them....but there’s a double-edged sword element to this too, as Bruce I think often perceives his worst fears for HIMSELF in his childrens’ actions and choices....and acts based on that. Rather than keeping centered his awareness that for all that they are LIKE him in various ways, they are their own people. As different from him as they are alike.
See, because like....Bruce’s primary reason for why he can’t ever allow himself to kill, even someone like the Joker....is because he KNOWS himself, and knows that if he ever allowed himself to cite precedent by doing it even just once.....he’d open up the door and progress through it past a point of no return, whereupon he’d never STOP being able to come up with justifications for why he should also kill this villain and this one and this one. Its the slippery slope argument. He can’t ever start down that slope, because he doesn’t trust himself to ever stop.
And he projects this same logic onto his children, who he seems so much of himself in....the good AND the bad. And so his fears AND his judgment, for both Jason AND Dick when they kill, even just in one special case....is that it sets them both on the same slippery slope. Because they are after all just like him, right?
But also they’re not....as evidenced by the fact that Dick DOESN’T KEEP KILLING. The Last Laugh is basically an outlier (assuming we don’t count Creighton, which I don’t rate the same because while I think Dick definitely did kill him, it was a clear cut case of self-defense and thus a totally different ballgame). Its significant that Dick killed, not just because he did it, and not just because Bruce didn’t actually ever forgive him for it....but also because...despite Bruce being afraid to face or acknowledge it because of how it played into his own fears for his own worst self and choices.....Bruce facing it is exactly what needs to happen in order for Bruce to ever acknowledge that his actual fears of the slippery slope....DID NOT HAPPEN, with Dick. Dick’s never used what happened with the Joker to cite a precedent, to justify to himself the choice to do that again with another villain he had just as much reason to hate.
And from THERE....once you connect all these dots and all these parallels and contrasts and intersections......its notable not just that Jason has killed, and with intent and without regret....but also that there IS no rationale for taking it for granted that Bruce acts differently with Jason’s crimes than he would if Dick committed them, just because its Jason and not Dick.....because the key difference is not WHICH of them did it, its the CIRCUMSTANCES of them doing it....and Jason’s circumstances not affording Bruce the same luxury of denial.
And then from THERE, finally, the coup de grace at the end of it all:
Is it also makes it equally notable that....just as Dick’s lack of killing again after the Joker, like, establishes a counter argument for Bruce’s fears that such a thing is inevitable once Dick killed even once....and with this fear being WHY he comes down so hard on the topic of even his children killing villains guilty of heinous crimes....
Dick’s lack of killing others after the Joker ALSO establishes a PRECEDENT....for the fact that no, killing someone does not make it IMPOSSIBLE to ever step BACK from that ledge if one so chooses. ‘Pulling the trigger’ as it were, even just once, initially....does not doom one of Bruce’s children to a lifetime of never being anything BUT a remorseless killer who can never choose a different path.
And of course, the fact that Jason killing certain people DOESN’T mean that he can’t ever stop, like....this is actually central to the entire Batfam’s dynamics as a whole?
Because after all.....literally every canon story, continuity or fanfic that has Jason reunite with the family to ANY degree, after having killed....which is like, basically all of them.....
These all take it as a given that....Jason is absolutely fully capable of choosing not to kill. He is not LOCKED into anything, beyond the possibility of having any kind of relationship with his family whatsoever, just because he’s killed....with the proof being like....literally all the stories where he still has a relationship with his family despite having killed previously or even still killing in some circumstances in the present!
The slippery slope does not rule all, is the thing. And the proof that Bruce’s fears of the slippery slope once slipped upon, being a one way street straight the fuck to hell, like.....the proof that that’s more a HIM problem than a hard and fast rule that can only ever play out one way for everybody Bruce see himself reflected in?
That proof literally begins with Last Laugh. With Dick. Paving the way for Jason there, rather than making a case for how actually things with Jason and Bruce would look totally different if it had just been Dick and Bruce there instead.
The second you acknowledge that the comics and most fanfics ALREADY take it as a given that Bruce’s projection of his own fears of the slippery murder slope is like....NOT actually any more of an inevitable death knell for Jason’s relationship with his family than Jason’s own actual death knell meant shit about his own longterm survival.....
Then Dick’s killing of the Joker in Last Laugh becomes extremely relevant not just because of what it reveals about how Bruce’s views on murder and his sons doing the murder is NOT actually conditional, based just on which son it is that does the deed most dirty....
It also becomes extremely relevant because of the precedent it establishes in countering the very argument/view that is central to keeping Jason from having any real relationship with his family until Bruce gets the fuck out of his own and everyone else’s way on this front.
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so, you want to write a musician?
about me: i play viola and have experience in symphony orchestras, string orchestras, string quartets (+ a few other small ensembles), and solo performances. i've done some light composition, and have friends/family who play other instruments. while my musical history is extensive, by no means do i know everything or speak for everyone.
this guide will focus on classical music/how to portray classical musicians and things that aren't as easily researched.
quick overview of instruments in a typical symphony orchestra
upper strings (violin, viola), lower strings (cello, (double) bass; i've seen viola included here too, but it's more commonly classified as upper strings)
strings also technically includes harp and piano
woodwinds (flute, oboe, clarinet, bassoon)
depending on instrumentation, they may also have piccolo, english horn, bass clarinet, contrabassoon
saxophones are not traditionally in symphony orchestras due to it being a relative newer instrument! but this is changing because more contemporary composes are including sax parts
brass (trumpet, trombone, bass trombone, tuba, euphonium)
percussion (depends heavily on instrumentation, but common instruments are bass drum, timpani, snare, crash cymbal, xylophone, marimba)
some things you should research
where the hands are supposed to go!! i'd recommend you look at pictures of professionals in orchestra settings (ny phil, cso, berlin phil are all top tier). some musicians *coughs at yoyo ma* have less than perfect posture when they're performing solos (for the same reasons famous authors can break "rules")
necessary equipment including reeds, rockstops, different kinds of sticks/mallets, rosin, mouth pieces for whatever instrument you're writing
common misconceptions
loose/photocopied sheet music is not aesthetic—it's annoying and impossible to keep organized. folders and binders are fairly common especially when managing multiple ensembles.
original copies are often expensive and required to perform a piece (legally) for profit or otherwise (though i know a few people who have bent this rule)
not all performers are good composers (i myself have very little formal music theory training), but many composers have performance histories.
not all musicians can sing.
perfect pitch is both a blessing and a curse. notes can be slightly lower/higher but in tune with the context of the piece, which drives people with perfect pitch insane.
having perfect pitch does not guarantee someone will be a prodigy, and people don't need perfect pitch to be a talented musician.
drama in ensembles does exist, but it rarely gets in the way of rehearsal. same thing goes for good friends: if your characters have even a shred of common sense, they aren't going to be talking/messing around during rehearsal.
instruments (especially good ones) are extremely expensive. people very rarely store instruments on the wall or other displays for fear of falling.
instruments are very picky and require tuning every time. every time! it doesn't take long anyway. temperature and humidity can and will make instruments go out of tune or damage your instrument if not properly stored.
some people listen exclusively to classical music, but in my experience, that's definitely not the majority
like with anything, most musicians struggle with self doubt at one point or another.
musician culture
getting excited when we hear a piece we recognize
getting frustrated because we can't remember the name of the piece (after all, no lyrics to search)
being horrified when a non-musician actor is playing a musician. yes, we notice. yes, it's obvious.
if people are joking, it's likely to be about: violas (a quick search for "viola jokes" will tell you all you need to know) or trumpets (a reputation for being overly loud, playing and not)
putting stickers (places they toured, their orchestra, or just purely decorative) on cases is common, but not for everyone. same goes for pictures (of family, past concerts, or anything) on the inside.
scrambling for a pencil when the conductor says to mark something. pencils are a musicians best friend :D
asking (and forgetting) how to split double stops/two parts at the same time. sometimes one stand partner will play the top while the other plays the bottom, and sometimes this is split stand by stand.
this has NEVER resulted in a sexual top/bottom joke. please just. don't. also no g string jokes. it's just unrealistic.
awaiting the obligatory "it's one week before our concert, and you sound like this?!" lecture
not talking about music 100% of the time!!! they have lives outside of music (most of them, at least /j). especially to close friends, music is probably not going to be a conversation topic unless something is out of the ordinary (high stress, something funny from rehearsal, etc.)
bragging/talking about how often they practice is generally not welcomed. great, but other people don't need to hear it!
stages are hot and bright. there's no way a performer can see someone in the audience with the possible exception of the first row.
practicing
three words for you: love. hate. relationship.
slow practice (like really slow lots of people recommend half speed; good for focusing on the right notes, tone, phrasing, smooth transitions)
metronome practice (while playing, it's not annoying at all! it's helpful and requires a lot of focus; when NOT playing, it's annoying and loud because it needs to be heard over the playing)
drone practice (having a machine/website/another person play one note in the background; good for tuning and scales)
and too many more for me to detail
auditions
ensembles may have entrance auditions to determine who gets in and seating auditions to determine placement within the section.
adrenaline does not make us play better; it just makes us make mistakes. and then thinking about those mistakes causes more mistakes.
some instruments, especially those with less repertoire, have common excerpts that come up frequently (i can think of one in particular that i've played for three separate auditions this year).
stopping/starting over is not recommended ever, but if you do, it has to be 10x better. most audition judges aren't looking for perfection!! they want to see how your character can keep going after messing up.
sight reading (being given new music, having ~30 seconds to look at it, being asked to play) is never perfect. i don't care how talented your character is; if they think they nailed it, they aren't experienced enough to see all the phrasing/dynamics that they didn't incorporate. no one gets sight reading perfect!!!
perhaps most importantly, musicians are not all the same! they enjoy it for a number of different reasons and have diverse and interesting lives outside of music!!! more information about specific instrument groups under the cut :)
strings
callouses. with the exception of pianists, most string players (and especially professional ones) have callouses where they press down/pluck the strings. i also have one on my right thumb where i hold my bow. cellists and bassists might have them on their left thumb from playing higher notes in thumb position.
hickeys are also fairly common, though only some people get them. upper strings will get these by under their left jaw. cellists may have one from the wooden body resting on their sternum. some people (including hilary hahn and many many others) use a cloth for comfort and to prevent hickeys.
few people want a hickey, but it might suit a character who is constantly trying to prove themselves.
our fingers do not "glide" anywhere. you can get cuts/"string-burns" from pressing down too hard when shifting. cuts like those are the only reason someone's fingers will bleed, and it's rarer than you think.
upper strings are more prone to back/neck problems from the way they hold their instruments on one side. see also: shoulder pain.
finger cramps happen. they aren't too common, but most if not all strings have experienced at least one.
pianos require tuning every few years or else the chords will be out of tune. few pianists can tune their own instrument because of how complicated it is.
piano parts/accompaniments will have so. many. pages. a page turner may sit on the right of the pianist to turn the page.
woodwinds & brass
spit. so much spit. some instruments clean afterwards with a cloth; others have a spit valve which is as gross as it sounds.
proper embouchure, or how a musician uses the muscles in their face/lips, is tiring, and people actually get strong cheek muscles. they can also easily turn red, but it varies based on a person's facial complexion. see also: good lung capacity.
flute and piccolo are not dainty. piccolo requires as much air as a tuba. an old teacher of mine almost passed out playing piccolo when she was in college.
flutes and piccolos are high, but often not shrill depending on the level of the ensemble.
reeds last a few weeks (less if your character plays for hours a day) and can be expensive to buy.
keys and valves can get sticky especially on older instruments which can result in the wrong note or bad tone.
saxes, clarinets, flutes are more likely to "honk" on low notes.
oboes are more likely to feel "wispy" on high notes.
articulation comes from the tongue, especially for brass instruments, and conductors may ask for "tah" "pah" or "wah" sounds depending on the style of the piece.
percussion
callouses from the friction between hands and sticks/mallets.
there are so many types of sticks and mallets!!! make sure to take a look at what materials are good for what instruments/sounds.
cymbals, triangle, and bass drum are not easy to play, even though they look simple.
percussionists with the exception of timpani may play more than one instrument during a piece, and they're constantly moving around in the back during their rests.
percussion instruments are too expensive for most people to have everything they ever play. practice pads are very common in place of these instruments.
ability to play one instrument doesn't translate to different instruments. for example, many percussionists don't have experience playing set/drum set.
some of the things detailed here are heavily glossed over, so if you have any questions, i'd always be happy to talk about it with you; i may not have answers, but i will try to help as best i can!!!
since you read this far, have my favorite viola joke.
what's the difference between a violist and a large pizza?
a large pizza can feed a family of four :)
tagging some people who showed interest: @writing-is-a-martial-art @ashen-crest @kg-willie @owilder
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It’s been brought up to me that a lot of my content is Isekai based. However I didn’t want this to be a Ieskai HC post. Instead let me tell you all about a stupid thing I came up with as a kid that I’ve been meaning to make into a fic for so long.:
What if the characters you play actually can feel your presence and/or can hear your commentary when playing?
Fair warning I never play Hyrule Warriors and Twilight Princess so let me know if I got things wrong.
Head canons under cut!
General head canons (These are all platonic headcanons btw.):
- Let’s say that the simple reason that you are here was to help the chain. Think of it like you’re the groups companion on this journey. Who better then someone that knows about each hyrule?
- The people who dealt with a lot of magic recognize you at first. The others need a bit of a push to connect the dots but everyone gets there.
- The connection wasn’t as strong at times during their original adventures, so its not like they could always hear you or sense you.
Time:
- You saw him and it was clear he has another sibling now.
- Time knew you where telling the true, that you followed both of his adventures however he wasn’t going to be fully open to you.
- Guess who isn’t scared of Time? You.
- Literally at one point you’ve pointed at Time and with a straight face says “thats a child”.
- This is also how the chain found out that Time actually fought the moon technically.
- “You fought Majora on the moon while it was falling. That’s not the same thing.”
- You meet Malon and it was an awkward first meeting since how do you explain this in the first place.
- Yet the two of you got along amazingly.
- When you and time are alone you instantly ask Time if he knew how she got the cow in his house. He kinda just… stares at you? Like you just met his wife and thats what your asking about?!
- The answer was that he wasn’t sure how she did that but the cow isn’t in his old house anymore. Since different timelines and all.
- It’s honestly weird for him to have someone remember both of his adventures in confidence.
- All be a little awkward hearing someone go, “oh yeah! Time had to do something similar.”
- Early on Time did go over boundaries since he really doesn’t like to talk about his adventures to much.
- So instead you both agree to be as cryptic as possible or at least there is an attempt on your part. Since your the only other person that can confirm or deny his claims.
- And no. You also don’t know his true age. But your guess is the closest.
Twilight:
- Since he is one of the Link’s that is drenched in magic, he recognizes your aura instantly.
- Chaotic sibling energy.
- If he is giving Wild or any of the other Link’s a hard time you are by his side calling Twilight out. Unless if the person in question did something truly idiotic then you let him go off.
- Speaking of, you call this man out as much as you possibly can. Like hell if you’re going to let the others think he isn’t a gremlin.
- He did try to stop you by covering your mouth but you licked his hand. So…. guess what he isn’t trying again unless it’s necessary.
- Somethings are kept a secret though. Since he did live through it and even if it was stupid he still could of gotten really hurt.
- You both play good cop, bad cop to the younger Links all the time.
- Twi is surprisingly very open with you about his adventure, to finally talk to someone about it with out having it sound crazy is nice.
- He also has some questions about you and your life. Since before this adventure started you just disappeared.
- The two of you honestly get along like two best friends who haven’t seen each other in years but still can banter like its the good old days.
- Knowing only small amounts about what they all been through it’s nice to know that you’re looking after the others as well.
- That feeling makes him really push himself to protect the family he has here and luckily you are here can smack him upside the head before lecturing him.
Warriors:
- heeeeey… you know what happen the last time he met someone that was suppose to be watching over the hero’s spirit?
- Yeah, so….War’s isn’t so keen on trusting you like some of these Heroes.
- You seem nice and not obsessively crazy. If anything what makes him decide to give you a chance. It’s seeing you get along with the other Heroes post battle or around the campfire when you think no one is watching.
- The moment that he recognizes you. You were cursing out some monsters and calling Dink every name under the sun. Which he actually remembers hearing your panicked voice briefly when fighting Cia.
- Anyway, you guys are a sass duo and even a trio when you get Leg involved.
- You steal his scarf sometimes with Time and Wind’s help
- He finds you and Wind wrapped inside of it leaning on time and his heart just- clenches, he has more siblings now!
- Then Warriors realizes he has another sibling… another sibling that will prank him…
- You two can be found discussing tactical strategies. Mostly him teaching you though since depending on the person not many people will know how to lead an army. Yet he is a good teacher and you catch on pretty quickly.
- Same with Twi, Warrior’s needs someone to pull him back sometimes it seems. Who better then to remind him then the person that already saw his lowest moment when his ego got the better of him?
- Seriously speaking. He wouldn’t come to you to talk. If anything he will try to avoid you if he wasn’t his best. In his head he has a reputation to uphold. Which will lead to a heart to heart. No sass. No banter. Just you and him sitting down to remind him that he is human.
- He needs a hug. Please give him a hug.
Sky:
- Sky actually didn’t recognize you at first!
- Yes he felt your presence and hear your voice in his adventure, but that was a while ago at this point. Also he isn’t as connected to magic as the others are.
- He does slowly befriend you despite everything.
- It wasn’t until you referred to a certain demon lord as a ‘B*tch A** Clown’ and a flood gate of memories open up for him. Memories of you cursing out Ghirahim, calling the imprisoned an ‘avocado with feet’ and so on.
- Nothing really changes between you two honestly, he just accepts it.
- If anything he becomes more open to you about everything, setting clear boundaries on what he doesn’t want to bring up. He will tell everyone about the curse eventually, but just hasn’t found a good opportunity too. Things like that.
- You do have to argue with Sky that the curse wasn’t his fault since you were also there when it was put on him, also the fact that he didn’t asked to be cursed in the first place.
- Most of the time you two are together its to get away from the chaos that the group of nine heroes could bring.
- Walking or sitting in silence is how you two end up most of the time together. It may not look like you two are bonding. There are some days while Sky is wood carving you would work on your small hobby as well. Then there are days he plays the harp and your reading.
- Despite it all he really enjoys the peace you bring. There is a sense of comfort that you have.
- When you and Sun finally meet. The first thing you ask him is to be invited to the wedding and it may or may not been in front of her too…
Wild:
- The recognition was really slow for him like Sky. Since Wild just got off of his first adventure he didn’t actually notice you were gone.
- It was until he realized that he couldn’t hear your panicked voice or snarky remarks when fighting in his head. That he finally realized you where outside of his head. He was quick to connects the dots after that.
- There was a moment where he didn’t know how to react since he just figured that you were just from his imagination.
- He now has another adventuring buddy with Hyurle! Though luckily you do keep the both of them from harm. Mostly because if something happens to them you will get in trouble with like Twi and Leg and thats never fun.
- Though you have your moments. Shield surfing and paragliding are on top of that list and Wild is all up for teaching you the ropes.
- The topic of the history of hyrule gets brought up a lot with the two of you. Since his era has a lot of connections to the past era’s. He is all up for learning about what came from where. Soon theories start to fly about.
- When You, Him and Flora are finally all together. There is nothing stopping you all from bouncing off theories. With your outside knowledge mixing with what they know. Things start to fall into place.
- The answer to why the timeline is like this doesn’t get answer. But hey! At least you all are having fun!
- If you can’t cook he will teach you that too! If you can! Well buckle up your going to share your knowledge with him whether you want to or not.
- Once you know how or get used to cooking while camping, you help him out a lot and its these moments where you both talk the most.
- It’s comforting to him to know he wasn’t alone this whole time.
Legend:
- As soon as you two locked eyes he felt instant dread. Yes he knew. No he isn’t going to opening up to you.
- Playful Insults to bond? Yeah that’s literally how he talks to everyone so no special treatment.
- He keeps you at a distance but its not actually working.
- You talk about his adventures so casually like it happened a few days ago. You avoid Link’s Awakening though. If you got hurt with the plot twist then you could only imagine the pain Leg went through.
- “I’m still trying to process the fact you married a tree.” “Hey remember that one time with Yuga, you slammed face first into a wall so hard you knocked yourself out?” “God do you not wear pants because of the fish thing?”
- This relationship is literally: Only I can bully this one.
- He fears the moment you meet Ravio and Fable knowing full well you all will bond over teasing him.
- Overall though he knows you got his back no matter what, to the point he finds himself confining in you slowly.
- Guess who is also teaming up with Hyrule to get Legend to sleep. It you.
- Once you probably have forced him to sleep by getting wolfie to lay on him. It was the wolf or yourself. In the end it was both of you and he was trapped.
- A sign that he was becoming soft towards you was when he started sharing his items with you. He trusts that you know how to use them and if you don’t he is actually willing to show you.
- He regrets giving the bee badge to you.
Hyrule:
- Another person that is drenched in magic. It only took one look at you for him to realize who you were.
- The two of you were awkward as anything at first. Since to you he never really spoken in his adventure so you didn’t know how to picture his personality.
- There’s a lot of mystery in your mind about him since again there isn’t much to go off of with what your given in game. It’s weird for him to hear about how you interpret his personality from that perspective.
- Hyrule didn’t honestly expect you to try and befriend him tbh. It mostly him over thinking it.
- You do follow him sometimes when he wants to wander around and explore. Mostly because you claim he finds the coolest things when he does.
- But its just a excuse to actually get to know him.
- The two of you trade stories and questions about each of your lives. There might be things you know that he might not know of about his adventure and his hyrule.
- Of course never going into to much details since there are things you couldn’t tell him.
- Hyrule honestly was dreading the day you all would land in his Era. He loves his home but is also very aware of it not being the most…welcoming place.
- So it’s more then surprising to him that there is even more then the glint of familiarity and excitement on your face. Knowing full well what dangers where a head of you, you still were open to exploring his world to the fullest.
- It’s honestly refreshing to see someone love his era as much as he does.
- Another boy that needs hugs, please give him a hug.
- You both cheer each other on though.
- This relationship is just aggressive support between you two and the others.
Four: (I’m actively mixing the Four Sword game and manga just to be clear.)
- Not sure if he would know exactly who you where since during the second adventure your voice and presence bounce between the four of them.
- Yet I also feel like he took after you because he was a child in his first adventure, which worries you a lot. Since you did have choice words for Vaati.
- The first to realize was Vio then it went Blue, Red and Green. Despite being in the same head it was just a theory they had over all. They all had their own ways of confirming it.
- Vio noticed the small things you do around Four. Like not stepping on their shadow, and covering Four when things got chaotic in their head. Small references here and there. When the two of you are alone he almost quizzes you about things. Just to see how much you know and to see if your telling the true or not.
- Blue recognize your mannerisms being something he picked up on during the first and second adventure. Only vaguely since again he was a child / there was only a small part only with him. Your fighting banter when your in battle made you see where Blue got his colorful language from…
- Your comfort was what clued Red in. He remembers your presence more clearly then the others from the first and second adventure. It was a comforting (yet chaotic) presence in their adventures that he latched on to. More so from his first adventure since as a kid he made an imaginary friend to process the fact he could sense and hear your presence. When you came back in the second time around it felt so natural for Red to have you there and really helped make him go forward through his small journey.
- For Green? It was a lot of things but when he see’s you treating each color differently when they are in charged. It’s a refreshing sight to be honest. He just enjoys hearing and seeing that his brothers had someone to confide in. Even when they switch who is in control you some how could tell and spoke to them accordingly.
- They were all some what surprise that none of the others picked up on your treatment of him swapping so much. Yet their also glad because their not ready to reveal themselves quiet yet.
- As Four or as you nicknamed him ‘Rainbow’ the two of you tend to sick together when the world’s shift around. Since his body needs more time to recover.
- You two are another pair that cheers each other on when the moral is low.
- He introduces you to the Minish! Getting you a jabber nut so you can speak to them too. You can’t shrink down to properly talk to them so this was the next best thing.
- The four of them makes you a dagger to bring home to remember him by, there’s a kin stone imbedded where the blade meets the hilt.
Wind: (hello self projection my dear friend)
- Wind didn’t recognize you ether at first, yet he didn’t even blink when you join everyone. He was fully on board with getting a new member and is easiest the most opened.
- It was when you two are alone together that something clicked in his head. You see during the Wind Waker he was alone most of the time when he was on land. So he had to face a lot by himself.
- Having you was reassuring to him when facing some of the monsters alone, especially with the puppet ganon fight. The two of you both agree that it was creepy.
- CHAOTIC SIBLINGS PART 2… well kinda
- Wind is a lot more mature then you realized but you two still have those moments.
- You, Aryll and Grandma get along too! So he and his family basically sees you and the chain as family.
- Pranking buddies! You’re targets would never know. Mostly because your covering up for him. You two team up with Four and Wild so the pranks can get chaotic at times.
- No matter what age you are compare to him and if your ok with it he does like platonic physical affection. Your going to be trading off with Warriors a lot of the time for cuddles or it’s the three of you together.
- You teaching him our worlds sea shanties and him teaching you his? Heck yeah! Even making up songs with the others is something on the table and in the works which is nice.
- It’s another thing to bring back home thats personalized!
Honestly since I’ve written all of this down I want to write the fic more. Though I’ll probably not only because idk if people would even read it lol. So it will just be a bunch of head canons. Anyway rambling is done.
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Elain and The mother
This could be a crack theory but regardless i want to share about what i feel about this matter and i’m sorry if it sound really off or unjustifiable. Again this is just a theory and from my own interpretation.
I truly feel that somehow Elain have some sort of connection with the Mother, but not like how Nesta was. We know about the Cauldron where it determines fate from the eddies of its swirling fluid but what about the Mother? Does it truly exist and have her own power or just an idea to the faeries.
So my theory is that what if the Cauldron chose Elain as the representative of the mother. What if she was the one that whispered to Nesta and prevent all of her power taken by the Cauldron.
Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer.
I believe the rose will represent Elain’s journey in the next book. But is it coincidence that the rose eventhough hidden in shadows were place beside the mother figurine ? Nesta even feel the need to put the rose in that position.
Is this the foreshadowing sjm used that the shadows would represent Elain’s love life and the mother as the arc for her power?
We don’t know what are the whole scope of power Elain possessed and how powerful she is but the thought that the Cauldron itself BLESSED HER with such gift must have some sort of meaning and reasoning and not just because it found Elain to be lovely. There must be something beyond that.
The voice
If i’m not mistaken, Nesta started to hear this voice after Elain volunteered to search for the dread trove and reacquainted with her power.
For Nesta
The voice was female, gentle. Wise and serene.
The gentle female voice in her head pleaded, Run, run, run.
A soft, familiar voice whispered the words. As they had been whispered to her long ago. As it had warned her in Oorid’s darkness. A lovely, kind female voice, sage and warm, which had been waiting for her all this time.
For Cassian
His stomach twisted. Instinct bellowed at him to wrap himself around her, to comfort and soothe, but another voice, an ancient and wise voice, whispered to keep going. One more mountain, that voice said. Just one more mountain. He trusted that voice. “We’ll camp here tonight.”
After read the description of the voice, i couldn’t help myself to relate it with Elain. Sjm also in this case, purposely gave us a really detailed ass description about the voice.
The voice was described as Female, familiar, gentle, soft, warm, serene (calm), lovely, kind, wise and ancient.
Let’s take a look the way Elain was describe throughout the books
Gentle and sweet
Nesta hadn’t wanted any dealings with the Fae, and Elain was so gentle, so sweet … how could I bring them into this?
Elain, who had been gentle and sweet.
But Elain, the flower-grower, the gentle heart …
Warm
Nesta met her sister’s warm brown eyes.
Serene ( calm)
Elain crossed her arms and said calmly, sadly, “Feyre warned me this might happen.”
“I still wanted to come,” Elain went on with that focused calm, the quiet steel building in her voice. “I wanted to see you, to explain.”
Soft & Lovely
Beautiful—she’d always been the most beautiful of us. Soft and lovely, like a summer dawn.
Kind
Something in my chest broke at Elain’s voice from the hall behind her. At the sweetness and youth and kindness, untouched by Prythian, unaware of what I’d done, become—
To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind.
Wise and sage
“It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences.” “Wisely said,” Mor offered,
For a moment, I just stared at my sister, the wisdom she’d spoken. Not a whisper of those oracular abilities. Just clear eyes and an open expression.
Ancient
With Cassian the voice was described as ancient and wise. It remind me the time Feyre and Cassian met the bone carver in acowar and he talked about what happened in Hybern
“How lovely she is—new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen, as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.”
At first i thought the bone carver talk about Nesta but the word lovely,fawn and sunrise(dawn) really associated with Elain
“I can see so very far now. All the way to the sea.”
Elain stood by the rail, the breeze caressing her hair. “She’s not getting any better. She’s not even trying.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared toward the distant sea.
Could it made sense that Elain as a seer have knowledge that are as ancient as the sea.
The dread trove
“You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well, as Briallyn can. And because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” A glance to Elain. “Either of you.”
So, since Elain was also made by the Cauldron she will not be influenced by the power of the trove. But it strike me as odd as why does Elain froze as well when Nesta use the Harp to stop time.
Is it so to give opportunity for Elain to use her power to whisper as the voice to Nesta ?
Do you see how it might be? that soft female voice whispered, What you might do?
The voice talked about the vision of Feyre’s death and what Nesta could do to prevent it. Seer abilities??
Even the things that hurt and hunt you? Only curiosity laced the question. [...] That wise, soft voice whispered, So live, Nesta Archeron.
Pain slowly washed over Elain’s face. And understanding. “Is that what this is all about? Father?”
Other than Cassian, Elain is the only person that knew the thing that haunted and hurt Nesta was her father’s death.
The Cauldron
So, Nesta bargained to give back what was stolen in return to save Feyre’s, Nyx’s and Rhys’ lives. But somehow, someone had prevent the Cauldron to take all of the power
“But a little remains. I think something else—someone else—stopped the Cauldron from taking all of it. And I made some changes of my own.”
This person literally stopped the Cauldron. The Cauldron have every intention to take it all back but stopped because of this someone.
Remember when the Cauldron came for Nesta in Acowar but retrieved as it saw how important Nesta is to Elain and it also purr in her presence as if Elain has a certain influence towards the Cauldron.
What if Elain persuade the Cauldron to not take all of Nesta’s power. Maybe from her seer abilities, she saw that it is vital for Nesta to have some of her power for the upcoming war?
Invisible hand
And a soft, invisible hand brushed her cheek in answer.
The sun was a warm hand on her shoulder, like the one that had prevented the last of her power from vanishing, as if telling her that the apology, the begging for forgiveness … it was no longer needed.
Nesta described the hand as warm coming from the sun. Is it coincidence that Elain also often describe as sunlight🤔
Yes, they’d have to figure out what to do with the entire Dread Trove now that they possessed all three objects. How Nesta had summoned it despite the spells Helion had placed on the other two … He’d think of that another day. Along with the fact that she’d stopped Time with the Harp. And that she seemed to have some sort of connection—or understanding—with the Mother. The Mother.
Notice that Cassian mention all of this to be done in the future. Since Nessian will not be the MC in the next book, it is obvious the next book’s MC will be the one that handle it.
they’d have to figure out what to do with the entire Dread Trove now that they possessed all three objects
The 4th dread trove object is still a mystery and only the one that was Cauldron made can find it and who is the remaining Cauldron made? Elain. It’s obvious enough that the DT will still play a major role in the next book
How Nesta had summoned it despite the spells Helion had placed on the other two
“In the end, Helion created the wards and keyed them to Nesta’s blood.”
“Once we leave this room, no one shall be able to enter it. Even you, if you do not unlock my wards, cannot enter.”
We have no idea how Nesta could actually summoned the objects despite Helion’s spell. And only Rhys and Helion the one who know how to unlock the spell.
I don’t want to be too reaching but what if Elain was the one that unlock it. Nesta’s blood run through Elain’s vein and maybe her seer abilities that provide knowledge as ancient as the sea could be the reason she knew to unlock the spell. ( again this is just my interpretation)
In conclusion
Is it coincidence that Nesta connection with the mother will still be a topic in the next book and at the same time there are foreshadowing mention the wooden rose was put beside the mother figurine?
Is it coincidence that Sjm never mention about whether Elain do reacquainted back with her power? Amren whom really eager for Elain to start finding the trove could have train Elain herself especially when she frequently mentioned how Elain should not be underestimated.
Is it coincidence that Elain is mentioned to even beat Azriel in secrecy that Cassian sometimes suspected Elain early dismissal was not to tend some elderly fae garden but what if she’s on the roll to train for her power. When sjm mention ‘secret’ it was not only to reflect the forbidden love but also Elain true power.
Is it coincidence that we only knew the surface of the seer abilities and somehow sjm haven’t elaborate it much further. As an Elain stan, i admitted that i actually know little of her as sjm never provide Elain with her own pov. Its like if we enter Elain’s head, there will be a major spoiler considering she will be the next MC.
If this theory turn out to be true, do you think that the Cauldron use Elain as his messenger or a puppet by giving her vision and image? Remember when the IC were lost and suddenly Elain were given image about Vassa. When Elain could search for the Suriel with only one try.
Why was Elain captured by the Cauldron when it clearly mentioned that the Cauldron will never harm her. It was as if in order for something to happen, Elain must be captured. What was the outcome:
Trigger Feyre to fly where she only have been training for a short time.
A human girl name Briar were saved. Will she be important in the series as her character were given a name?
To alert that Tamlin was in fact on the good side
When Elain was captured, she was lured by the image of Greysen offering her safety and protection but who was the one that rescued her?Azriel. Like she was expecting Greysen to come but instead it was Azriel. Was the Cauldron use this to show Elain who will matter to her the most?
“Nothing is a fluke. The Cauldron’s power flows through Nesta, and could use her as a puppet without her knowledge. It wanted those weapons Made, and thus they were Made.
And do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here. All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.
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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 7.4
Author’s Note: I believe I’ll be doing a LIVE pulling for Xiao tonight around 7:45 PST. Join me if you want to see me cry from happiness or from not pulling him LOL. The link is in one of my previous posts. Before, during, or after this chapter, listen to this song to get a feel of what’s happening! https://youtu.be/ifQ3JRS4gqc
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The voices never truly left you alone after that. You were practically becoming unhinged by the endless whispers that plagued your ears, and the quiet of night only seemed to egg them on further. When you were blessed with their silence, you were plagued the physical pains of the karmic debt and your depression from joining the harbingers. Childe was obviously growing more and more concerned with each passing day; you were beginning to freak him out. The Tsaritsa and the other harbingers, however, found great amusement in your...condition. It was a blessing in disguise; they were manipulating you much easier now that you were exhausted from the sleepless nights.
And it wasn't like you were constantly needing medical care, though you wished they would give you some heavy pain killers. No; whatever damage your body was burdened with would be repaired by morning thanks to Xiao's blood. The pain wasn't nearly as dramatic as the first wave, but it was a constant dull aching that ate away at your bones. Slowly but surely, the pains grew over time.
Xiao made his presence known to you only twice more; he showed himself in the late evenings for brief periods of time to quell your aching heart and mind. At least when he was able to be with you, the dreadful screams would disperse if only temporarily. At least when he was with you, you were granted sleep. Small waves of peace would reclaim you as Xiao watched over your sleeping figure.
But once Liyue's festivities were underway, Xiao's visits became nonexistent and your mind was once again thrown into deeper chaos while he fought off more demons. It was the busiest time of the year for both the inhabitants and the demonic presences of Liyue; it was Xiao's task to fend the latter off since the festivities attracted their attention and strengthened their presence. He felt you slowly shattering, and it hurt him to know he couldn't be with you as often as he wanted to.
One day out of the blue, over a month after you joined the Fatui, Childe approached you with a grand smile across his face. "Ojou-chan! Why don't I show you around Snezhnaya? It's much better than sitting in your room all day."
"...Aren't you always saying we could freeze to death?" Your unamused expression failed to hinder Childe's enthusiasm. "Why would I want to go outside?" The bags under your eyes spoke volumes about your continuous sleepless nights.
"Come on, Mezzetin, it'll be good for you. You could use the exercise."
"Are you implying something?" You're eyes narrowed dangerously, but Childe's grin only widened when your normal quips shone through your broken character.
"Well, if you ever feel the need to put me in my place, I'm more than willing to oblige to a fight," he watched your expression lighten for a moment before urging you. "Come on, I'll show you around."
Sheer cold wasn't an issue for this winter wasteland like it was on Dragonspine, but it had to be at least five times colder here. Childe made sure you were bundled up in a large furry coat before guiding you out of the castle and leading you to a town square that was surprisingly bustling with people despite the frigid temperatures. Stalls lined the streets. People gathered around to buy the freshest local food that included some incredibly large seafood varieties. Others were in line to buy trinkets, house decor, and a variety of other items.
"...A farmer's market?" Your cold breath of a remark caught Childe's attention, and he turned to you.
"Of course! Go ahead and look around. If there's anything you want, I'll buy it for you."
He's trying to cheer me up? You examined Childe's earnest demeanor as he eyed the fish stall with stars in his eyes. Can he just pick a side already?! You rolled your eyes. Still, might as well bankrupt him if he insists. You broke away from him and continued down the rows of stalls for awhile, unaware that the harbinger had rejoined you.
You were busy examining a few intriguing necklaces made of materials you haven't heard of when the whispers of the damned regained their voices. You staggered a bit only to be steadied by Childe's hand on your shoulder.
Childe noted your glowing eyes. "Happening again?" His genuine concern made you relieved that he wasn't a complete monster like the other harbingers. "If you need a break, there's a café over there that we can sit in." Your strained nod prompted him to guide you with a hand at the back of your shoulders.
"Hm?" A strange sound reached your ears, and this time it wasn't from inside your head. Your feet came to a halt before the two of you reached the building, and you tilted your head towards the sound.
It was a light and effortless tune that floated through the open air from yet another building. The melody was slow to build, yet you hung onto its every note. It took you a moment to realize that it calmed the demonic voices from screams to hushed murmurs. You followed the path of the sounds until you found yourself in an extremely outdated music shop.
"Mezzetin?" Childe attempted to regain your attention as he followed after you. He caught onto the childlike wonder glistening in your teary eyes. "Care to explain?"
"The pain..." a tear fell. "It's subsiding." You continued to stare at the harpist that played her tune at the back of the shop, eyes never leaving the fingers that plucked the strings. The voices were gone, and now you were only overwhelmed with a sense of peace.
Childe watched you silently listen to the music for a long while. An idea struck him. "Have you ever played?"
"Huh?" You snapped out of your daze and wiped the tears away. "Um...Granny used to play a lot when I was little. I know a couple tunes, but--" Childe walked to the shop owner without letting you finish, pulling out a large sack of mora while he was at it. "H-hey! What're you doing?"
"If it brings you happiness, then I don't see the problem in buying it," Childe argued back after he had purchased the most expensive harp in the shop and left a considerate tip. The two of you were walking back to the palace now. He had ordered for his subordinates to take the instrument back with them.
"But I haven't played in years! And I said I only knew a few simple tunes--"
"--Then I will ensure you receive lessons." He was not going to budge on this, and he made it obvious with his firm gaze. "The rest of the harbingers made it clear that they do not care for your wellbeing, but I do. Think of this as a gift and a type of therapy. You've been down ever since Xiao left you--"
"I left him," you corrected. And I so regret my decision.
"I'm just trying to prove that you aren't in a prison anymore. If you want to see it as that, then by all means, continue to be depressed. But something tells me you want to see Xiao again and find a way with him, no?"
"...Right."
"Then at the very least accept my apology gift to you."
"Huh? Apology?" You gave him a questioning look, but he either didn't hear you or elected to ignore you.
......................................
Xiao was being as antisocial as ever, but it's not like he would ever turn down an invitation for tea from Rex Lapis himself. Here he was, sitting just outside of Wangshu Inn with his master in the bright of day. Aether probably put the archon up to the task considering how Xiao pushed him away what felt like ages ago, but the yaksha decided to give Zhongli the time of day only because of his deep respect for his savior.
"I've also brought more pain killers," Zhongli handed the yaksha a small jar of other-worldly medicines as he continued to fill him in on the upcoming Lantern Rite. He had yet to bring you into the conversation, most likely to avoid irritating the throbbing wound in Xiao's chest.
"Mm." Xiao gladly accepted the medication and set it aside. This ensured yet another lull in their conversations.
"Will you go this year?" Zhongli sipped at his tea. "To the Lantern Rite?"
"My presence would only hinder the festival. Besides, I'm not great with crowds." The yaksha had yet to meet the archon's eyes, and kept his gaze firm on the teacup in front of him. Truth be told, he would have gone this year...with you, since it was you who had asked him. But now that these circumstances have come to pass, why should he go? "It's just another excuse for humans to discard their trash into the ocean." Why should he go when it would only remind him of his failure to keep you at his side?
Zhongli narrowed his eyes as he pondered whether words of comfort would aid his yaksha. "It would be good for you to experience something new after all your years of living."
"I already have," Xiao clenched his jaw, signaling that the topic was beginning to walk on thin ice. "She--"
"--Is not dead," Zhongli reminded. "Do not mourn for a loss that has not occurred."
"But she's dying," he argued back, finally releasing the emotions he's pent up ever since they left you. Zhongli's look of confusion prompted him to continue. "She can feel the karmic debt bestowed upon me."
"When did this begin?" The archon's usual reserved composure faltered slightly while his eyes widened.
"A month ago. I visited her; she can hear the voices of the damned. She's been in physical and mental pain ever since."
"The bond..." Zhongli set his teacup down a bit abruptly as he thought to himself. "It appears these side effects grow stronger in the other's absence. How intriguing..."
"How do we discard them? Is there a way?"
"Have you not interpreted my words in Qingce Village all along? Or my words at the Dawn Winery? I've already given you the means to act, Xiao."
--Can feel your emotions...emotions cannot be permanently ignored...fall on deaf ears...early grave... Xiao scoffed and downed the rest of his tea before forcefully setting the cup back down onto the table. "You think admitting my alleged feelings for a mortal human would solve the problem?"
"She's done her part, now it is your turn," he straightened. "If you fail to do so, I fear she will perish from your karmic debt in no time at all. If what you say is true, it's a miracle she's still alive. Your admittance would seal the bond, as it would eliminate the side effects altogether."
Xiao's head whipped in the direction of the playing of an instrument note, but was only greeted with the joyful screams of children running around nearby. "Tch. How annoying," he played his mishearing off and returned to his normal sitting position. Another sound reached his ears, but he neglected to react to it. The notes are off.
Zhongli didn't question Xiao's sudden alertness, but that didn't take away from the fact that yet another side effect has revealed itself to the archon. It appeared as though the yaksha was already aware of this side effect.
And man, did this one annoy Xiao the most. He heard the most random of tunes and chords at the most random of times. It would even jolt him awake when he managed to fall asleep on rare nights. It wasn't all unpleasant though; there were times in which the melody struck all the right notes and the result was a beautiful thirty second song before it was gloriously ruined by the musician's hesitance or embarrassment.
He knew it was you. Your constant need to practice was as pestering as your old daily prayers before he revealed to you that he could hear them. At least he only sometimes heard the plucking of strings. As pesky and invasive as it was, your insistence upon playing what Xiao only assumed was a lyre somehow brought a bit of joy to his heart. It meant that you were doing better than the last time he saw you.
He just wished he could hear the end result and not your sloppy practice sessions.
........................
Only on the eve of the Lantern Rite, several days before the celebration, did he come to appreciate the hours of hard work you were putting into practicing the music.
You had locked yourself in your room again after watching the failed experiments Dottore had forced you to witness. How many did you see die today? Fifty? He clearly needed to adjust the ratio of your blood to whatever else he had in that serum he developed. What was worse was that you were beginning to become desensitized to the loss of human life; amused by it, even. Just as the Tsaritsa wanted. Sometime into the fortieth treatment, your pains grew stronger as did the voices of the slain daemons.
You retreated to your room, relieved that Childe had for once allowed you to be without his presence. You sat yourself next to the window and allowed for the evening light to illuminate the music sheets the harbinger had bought for you. Your fingers grazed lightly over the strings as the voices continued to grow louder, absently plucking one of them to ensure that you still had full control over your slightly twitching limbs. You had nearly snapped the strings last time the voices overwhelmed you--
There's no time nor need to reminisce those incidents. You pulled yourself out of your thoughts and began to play, the smooth vibrations of the harp humming against your chest and shoulder as the strings were struck. Unlike your practice sessions, your hands glided over the strings from one position to the next like you had played for a thousand years. No hesitation could be felt from the chords. Finally, it seemed as though you mastered this song.
Xiao. I miss you...your warmth...your embrace... Your infested thoughts soon cleared as your mind drifted to an image of him. I wonder if he too finds comfort in music when the voices overwhelm him? For you knew that when the voices grew louder, he too, was subject to them. The music overcame the screaming daemons, and you were relieved with a sense of peace. Your fingers continued to play through the music and repeated the song for as many times as you felt fit. Your aching limbs continued to throb, but you didn't let that stop you from playing. Your mind now clear as water, you poured your longing for Xiao into your music. You hummed the melody as you played.
One day you'll find your way back to him, or him to you. Was it okay to allow yourself to believe in the possibility that he held the same feelings for you? Did he love you? No--Could he? It was already naïve enough to think he was capable of harboring such intimate feelings after living through hell for over two thousand years. And even if he did, it's not like you'd live as long as he has. Would he push me away again? You shoved that thought out of your mind with another series of chords.
You wouldn't be able to put an end to your feelings no matter what he did. He was too admirable, too strong, too strict, too beautiful. He was too kind, even if he put up a front. You loved him too much; perhaps that would end in your own downfall just as Childe predicted and beat into your head every day, but that was alright with you. If the voices were to eat away at you until all that remained were ashes, you were okay with being true to yourself until the very end. Even if he never thought of you as something more than a companion. And as you thought of him, the longing to be reunited swelled within your chest and overflowed into your fingers.
Your song was your unspoken prayer, your love and dedication were your offerings.
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