#(she is also still wielding Steadfast. it's a Thing)

[taylor-titmouse]

so we know that gender for dwarves is mainly divided between rock and jewel (for the sake of keeping it simple to explain. there are definitely genders outside that binary) and that rocks map closer to masculine, and that jewels map closer to feminine, but it has nothing at all to do with genitals and everything to do with presentation. in dwarven terms, tourmaline and angre are both crafters, in that they're capable of childbirth, but this is considered a sort of natural skill rather than tied to their value. outside of the aristocracy and royal lines and half-things, dwarves do not generally care about bloodlines. children are raised by the community. you keep track of your crafter and getter for the sake of good health, but outside of that, it's not a big deal what you have down there.

of course tourmaline and angre are both exceptions to the bloodline concern, given she's royalty and he's half human. but this post is for dissecting presentation, rather than social dynamics.

TOURMALINE AS A ROCK

so the richer you are, the more you want to show that off. we know that having smooth skin is indicative of free time/money to spend on achieving it. that doesn't change for rocks. the one difference is that rich rocks (and sometimes jewels!) may, instead of shaving their faces, engage in elaborate beard braiding and decoration. this is more common among the older generations, who by the time they reach those ages, are either too wrinkled or simply too tired of dealing with shaving and wax. tourmaline, being a strapping young stone, would shave completely. long hair would also still be considered the fashion for a young rock of his station. however, luxurious thickness is for jewels. a tight, sober braid is preferred for rocks for everyday wear. he also doesn't wear makeup. makeup is entirely the realm of jewels. foundation to hide blemishes at the very most, but otherwise it is not expected of him.

gemstones are incredibly important to dwarves, with a lot of coding regarding how much you can wear and what styles/stones you can wear. as a jewel, tourmaline would be expected to wear a Lot. earrings, hairpieces, bracelets, anklets, everything and anything. rocks are a bit more limited, because the presentation is about strength and steadfastness rather than beauty... but if you're rich, you still have to show it. so in practice, rich rocks and jewels can both be totally decked out, but rocks will favor chunkier, less delicate pieces. notably: rocks will also have more piercings than jewels, because it signals toughness against pain. thus, rock tourmaline has pierced his nipples and belly button. and of course he's not covering his chest to show that off (and wearing anything heavy would be uncomfortable)

the slitted trousers are of course to show off the hot smooth leg. it would be perfectly acceptable for him to wear a skirt or skirt-like piece, but for the sake of making him more readably masculine, he gets pants. his shoes would also have a slight heel or platform to them. there's a sweet spot of height that dwarves find attractive, and he's otherwise fairly average/short. angre would be just on the upper edge of it.

ANGRE AS A JEWEL

so while rock tourmaline is fairly unchanged, angre as a jewel would be a very different person with a very different life path. as a jewel, she cannot become a knight or soldier. she can be taught self defense and how to wield a weapon, but being employed in the defense of another is Not Done with jewels. remember: this has nothing to do with childcraft, entirely with presentation. if she wanted to become a knight, she would have to transition to rock, which isn't an uncommon occurrence. switching genders based on occupation is very normal. but then we'd just have original flavor angre. so this is an angre who took a different path.

this angre would be a lady in waiting, and, if we want to give her the equivalent job to captain of the guard, she would be tourmaline's royal barber. she would be in charge of the care and keeping of his body, a role that requires significant training and trust. she would have command over a team, but she would be the only one permitted to touch and tend to his neck, and would be a close confidante.

as for her presentation, she would be considered a very conservative jewel. nothing in her hair (which she wears long) and very few actual gemstones in her jewelry. this is partially about expectation--she is a commoner, and it would be very inappropriate for her to be ostentatious in the service of royals--but it would also be her own choice. she does not want to be attractive to the young prince [undecided on the actual term]. rock angre did not want to be perceived as a sexual threat to jewel tourmaline, and so jewel angre would not want to be perceived as a sexual option (but would be just as in love with him). so she wears simple patterns, little jewelry, and very light makeup. showing skin is something she can't really avoid, because it also represents her work. you wouldn't really trust a barber if they had a bad haircut.

phew. that's a lot.

[eyecan02]

Possible Future Payoffs for Charlastor

This post is meant to hopefully raise the spirits of Charlastors. As we all know, Chaggie is supposed to get a "sexy song" in season 2. It's honestly not surprising but I'll be honest. They could show 20-25 minutes of Charlie and Vaggie having the raunchiest, freakish, loudest sex and I would still rather watch another 3 minute Charlastor touch-a-thon similar to episode 7.

Chaggie getting a sexy song or them being all over each other will not convince me that there's chemistry until Vaggie fixes her co-dependency issues. To me, Charlastor has the more natural chemistry and they'll definitely be getting more scenes together too judging by the line, "She's filled with potential I could guide.:

It's clear they'll be spending more time together as mentor and student. Also, since Alastor needs to maintain Charlie's trust, I'm willing to bet that Charlie is the one that Alastor confides in with his Vox falling out story, and maybe even with his human back story as well.

They don't need to be having sex or have a "sexy duet" in order to show they have chemistry/are intimate. Trust can be a very intimate thing too- literally baring their soul to someone, especially to someone who has been described before as Alastor's "mirror".

Charlastor doesn't have to be endgame in order to have a payoff. A payoff can take on many forms. Here's a few good ones I can see happening. Alastor standing up to Eve/Lilith (after Charlie frees him) by saying the only one he has loyalty for is Charlie, before kneeling before Charlie and calling her his Queen!

A different payoff could be a mutual Charlastor hug where Alastor tells Charlie, "You don't know how dear you are to me." One hand is shown cradling the back of Charlie's head, lying his cheek on the crown of her head while his other arm is wrapped around her waist.

Another payoff could even be one brief kiss. Call me delulu but I think one kiss for the fans could actually happen. Picture it being at a time where Chaggie is briefly broken up and there's a moment before a seemingly hopeless battle where Alastor briefly pecks Charlie's lips to bring her out of a worried/depressed rambling and says, "Forgive me, dear. I've always wanted to try that...with you in particular." -cups her cheek- "Even if all seems lost, I've taught you how to properly wield a smile so let's go forth and turn the tides in this battle. Together."

Be as delulu as you want or keep your expectations very low. I kept mine extremely low for season 1, and look how much we feasted in two episodes plus the hug we got in the finale.

I still can't help but get excited for season 2, though, especially if we keep Amir's interview in mind where an interviewer asked him, "Who is the one person Alastor would do anything for?" Amir of course said that he couldn't answer.

Someone on Twitter (will never call it X) replied with, "He can't say because he knows the fans will go nuts." Amir replied with, "Yes." The first people that come to mind would be his mother and Niffty, but Alastor being a momma's boy and him being "charmed" by Niffty are public knowledge so it can't be referring to either of them. If it were one of them, Amir wouldn't be so cryptic. He would just admit it's one of them if it were one of them but I highly doubt it.

It's an answer that would make fans go "nuts". I'm detecting a note of shippiness. I'm willing to bet that the answer is Charlie. I think Alastor really loves Charlie in his own way and he's determined to prove himself as her friend, mentor, confidante, possibly future advisor and as her "steadfast chum hotelier" for reasons that are more complicated than it simply being that it's because he's leashed and following someone else's orders.

[wondwaeland]

Eden’s Court: Spawn Point

an AU of Eden’s Court even though this AU JUST started

It's rare for children to arrive in Eden's Court, especially those that resemble members so closely.

Much like the other members, they arrived at the front gate with questions and confusion. All they knew is that they were looking for their parents.

Shout out to @spyderlondon (again) for helping develop these digital spawns

Click “Keep Reading” to see more about each addition.

Showtime - Nestor and Zoya

The Heir and The Jester didn't know how to react when they were presented with two children. Caine took an instant liking to them, welcoming them into the family quickly. Pomni was a little more hesitant since she had yet to address her feelings about him.

[design above is the initial sketch version]

Though their parents are the Heir and the Jester, Nestor and Zoya are known commonly as the Prince and Princess. They were the first of the children to arrive at the court.

While both take after their mother in terms of looks, Nestor takes after his father in terms of heart. He wants what is best for his sister and wants her to enjoy the world around them. He is curious but steadfast. When he has a goal, he will pursue it to the end. He developed a knack for magic like his father, using the ability to entertain the younger members of the court while their parents worked away. He is also quite a skilled fighter, becoming fiercely protective at the drop of a hat should someone threaten the ladies of his family.

Zoya is very close to her brother, trusting him more than the man meant to be her father. Though she is wary of the world, she is willing to explore as long as her brother and mom are there to be with her. Once she is comfortable, she will speak her mind and be more active in scenarios. Much like her mother, Zoya took to the trapeze with an almost practiced ease, even though neither of them had ever swung before. Her brother may be a fighter, but Zoya is a runner. At the first sight of danger, she is on her way in the opposite direction.

Caine easily fell into the role of mentor and did his best to be a father to Nestor and Zoya. With his son being gifted in the magical arts as well, the two would spend time outside of Court duties honing on what type Nestor possessed and how he should wield it. He would be the one to read Zoya to bed and the one to take her around the land for entertainment. In the end, he’s trying his best to b a good father in the absence of having an example himself.

Pomni, on the other hand, was bit more wary in accepting that these two were supposed to be her kids. Though she joined in on the mini-family adventures, she still felt like this wasn’t real. It wasn’t until Zoya tried to get to know her that Pomni realized that they were all learning together. Caine, Nestor, Zoya, and herself were all learning how to be a family.

Now if only the kids can get their parents to talk through their emotions…

Bunnydoll - Judy, Lola, and Briar

The triplets were an unexpected addition to the household since their supposed parents had no inkling of even enjoying each other's company.

Ragatha easily fell into her role as their mom, making sure each of them were comfortable and settled in before her and Jax had a talk. Though Jax may not show it, he cares for each of these little buggers. Right now, the two have a great co-parent routine going on.

[design above is the initial sketch version]

While Ragatha may be a Housekeeper and Jax may be a Fighter, the children toe the line of assistance. Judy and Briar seem to lean more towards the household side while Lola wants to take after her father and fight things.

Don’t let these sweet faces fool you. Each of the girls know how to get what they want. Judy has quite the control of her crocodile tears. Ragatha usually gives in immediately while Jax takes about 10 minutes to fully react and give in. Lola likes to play the reversal game on her mom, saying/doing something opposite to get the reaction she wants. Briar just does things and asks for forgiveness later. With how quiet she can be, it can take a little before anyone notices.

When it comes to interacting with the court, results may vary. Judy does her best to help out wherever she can, even if she may be too small to do so. Lola is a natural source of chaos, having been the only one ON RECORD to bite Caine while unprovoked. Briar is known to be quiet but when she does speak, it’s blunt and to the point.

The three girls love their parents equally, but would love them more if they could be a full family. Let’s just say that they are experts at manipulating situations in their favor.

Kinger - Petrov, Lopez, Alek, Alba, Balto, Catalina, Benoni, and Sicilia

Kinger's little gaggle of children showed up outside of his room. Seeing the little ones made his heart grow and accept his pawns with open arms.

Unlike the other kids, these eight don’t have titles or roles just yet since they are quite young and shouldn’t have heavy responsibilities just yet.

It was somewhat of comfort to have the kids in his company, said it reminded him of days before. He was a natural with them, easily balancing the needs of each of them without making another feel left out.

[design above is the initial sketch version]

Since they all arrived together, no one is quite sure who the oldest of the bunch is. With how they interact with each other, Kinger suspects it to be the girls. No specifics, just the girls.

Much like their dad, their personalities are on a wide range. While some are timid and shy, the others tend to get into trouble easily - acting much like the Gloink infestation of 'XX.

The pawns are a little bit harder to keep entertained than the others, especially because they seem to act around the younger end of the age range - around maybe five or six. For now, Gangle and Zooble take turns babysitting the squadron of pawns while Kinger attends to training his soldiers and attending meetings with Caine.

[vyoongi]

“she shall never take your place”

Summary: When Caracalla finds solace in his beloved monkey, Dondus, Geta struggles with his growing jealousy and the shifting dynamic between them. Pairing/relationship: Marcus Aurelius Antoninus | Emperor Caracalla/Publius Septimius Geta | Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) Warnings: complicated family relationships. emotional tension and jealousy. historically inaccurate. Words: 855 Requested by anonymous! A/N: I didn't know if anon wanted something more romantic, so this was left as a platonic story. If you're reading this, I hope you like it. Also, I only know how to write sad things so I'm sorry.

It was one of those rare interludes when Caracalla’s turbulent thoughts calmed, the fever that often consumed him seemed subdued. His skin, still marked by the pallor of illness, was momentarily free from the signs of his deeper decay. His blue eyes, the troubled inheritance of a lineage steeped in power and legacy, regarded the small creature in his hands with an unusual serenity: Dondus, the always lively capuchin monkey with dark fur.

As Caracalla gently ran his fingers—habituated to the wielding of swords and the signing of death warrants—over Dondus’s back, an inconceivable tenderness emerged. Since childhood, animals had provided him with a solace that humans had never offered: a steadfast presence free from demands, judgments, or the treachery of whispered conspiracies. His father had instilled in him a deepseated mistrust, while his mother’s love had come wrapped in silk, yet sharp as a needle. Only Geta had served as a constant in his life, a safe harbor amid the storms of chaos. But Dondus was different—a small and delicate being that reminded him he could still hold something precious without crushing it.

From the entrance, Geta observed the scene, arms crossed over his tunic, his gaze filled with a mix of fascination and a darker sentiment that felt like a stone lodged in his sandal.

"It seems your new companion has driven me from your side," he finally spoke, his tone attempting levity, yet weighed with unspoken tension.

Caracalla looked up, a crooked smile playing on his pale lips. “Oh, brother, do not be foolish. Dondus does not scold me, nor does she regard me with eyes that see me as a martyr every time I act in a manner you deem improper. ”

Geta took several steps into the room, the evening light casting golden and shadowed hues upon him. "I do not see you as a martyr, but as a brother who has endured enough nights of fever and madness to feel concern when you cling to something so delicate."

At that moment, Dondus expertly climbed onto Caracalla’s shoulder, then scampered to one of the nearby columns, leaving the emperor’s hands empty. Caracalla watched the monkey wander away before turning his gaze back to Geta.

"Dondus does not expect me to be a god, a hero, or even a virtuous man. You, however… you expect this of me, even if you try to cloak it with words."

Geta let out a deep sigh and pressed his fingers to his forehead in exasperation. "I expect nothing from you, Caracalla, that is beyond your reach. But you cannot seek shelter in a creature to escape the darkness inside you"

"Why should I not?" Caracalla retorted, his voice thick with bitterness. "Men fear me, women despise me, and the senators murmur of my ruin over watered wine. Dondus knows naught of this. She cares not in the least."

A heavy silence descended between them, a weight born of unspoken words and the years wrapped in a tangled web of love and resentment. Over time, Caracalla's distrust had only deepened.

At last, Caracalla rose, his movements deliberate yet graceful, the fabric of his robes cascading over his thin frame. He approached Geta and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You and she occupy different places in my life, brother," he said, his voice quieter, yet still heavy with meaning. "You are the root that keeps this ailing tree standing, while she... she is but a breath, a fleeting respite amidst the poison that runs through my veins. ”

Geta lowered his head slightly, absorbing the words with a hint of reluctance. He knew well that loving Caracalla was no easy task, not even for him, who had cherished and loved him since childhood, sharing not only their blood but also whispered secrets under the vast, starlit Roman sky. It wasn't that he had always been a flawed person; rather, his inherently sweet and childlike nature had been warped over the years. Caracalla underwent such drastic changes that, at some point in his life, he unwittingly broke Geta's heart.

Just then, little Dondus reappeared, dangling from a rope that hung from the ceiling. She squeaked softly, as if aware that their conversation had drawn to a close.

Caracalla let out a soft laugh, a sound rare for a man accustomed to wielding power and issuing commands with chilling ease.

“Come, Geta. Join me. For tonight, at least, let Rome burn without us. ”

Geta nodded and followed his brother as the sun dipped below the hills, painting the sky a deep crimson—an echo of the blood that bound the two sons of Septimius Severus.

The two figures slipped into the shadows of the palace, merging like spectres as their footsteps echoed in the quiet corridors. The Palace, with its grand mosaics depicting gods who seemed to silently observe the brothers, remained indifferent to the choices they made. For the first time in years, Geta felt a glimmer of hope—that his place in his brother’s life might be more significant than he had ever realized. Yet that hope was tinged with a pain he couldn't ignore.

[wistfuul]

𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗹 "𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲" 𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗻𝗲𝗿

❝ I feel very small. I don't understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by small things. ❞

B A S I C S –

Name: Bonnibel Buckner. Nicknames: Bonnie (most commonly known as), Bunny (good friends), Knob (sisters only). Birthday: March 16, 1997. Pronouns: She/Her. Gender/Sex: Cis female. Sexuality: Femme Lesbian. Occupation: Freelance clothing maker/fashion designer/artist, currently part-time nail tech at Stunning Styles Salon.

P E R S O N A L I T Y —

+ Idealistic, steadfast, hospitable. - Reserved, over-sensitive, gullible. She is a LOVER!! She believes that people are innately good and she'll make excuses for anybody's behavior even if they're hurting her. It's very easy to pull tricks on her because she just straight up trusts easily, and she spends a lot of time in her head imagining all of the beautiful possibilities. Very romance forward as well, despite her hesitation to act on it. Being her friend RULES because you will always get a Valentine's/St. Patrick's/Easter/Halloween/President's Day/ETC basket.

A R R I V A L — ( SUMMER 2003 )

Moved to Aurora Bay when she was six and has been here ever since, minus a brief stint at FIT in New York from 2015-2019.

E X T R A B I T S —

– Ideal Friday night is staying in her apartment on her big, comfy couch with a bowl of blackberry gelato, a bowl of microwave popcorn, and a beloved rom-com on the TV. She does it every week (with ice cream flavor subject to change). – Huge on making mood boards and collages. Does at least one manifestation board at the beginning of every month, alongside any of the junk journaling she does throughout the following weeks. She has an instagram where she posts all of her collage art/mood boards. – Extensive MASH player as a kid. Like, obsessively thought about who she'd marry and when she'd marry them and what her life might look like after getting married. She still has a couple of her old MASH sheets, which she's saved for posterity and also to collage with. – Created one of the looks for Sabrina Carpenter on her most recent tour. Absolutely the coolest thing Bonnie's ever done and she CAN'T stop talking about it on her private story (which consists of some friends and her sisters).

C O N N E C T I O N S —

TBA.

B A C K G R O U N D —

tw: brief brief brief mention of paternal illness - grew up in the bay area, though her parents are both from texas so she has visited the south a lot, and a heavy portion of her family wield texan accents. bonnie and her immediate family moved to aurora bay when she was six after her maternal grandmother died and left her huge ass house to the buckners. - comes from a hugely loving and supportive family. she is sooo lucky and often expresses how grateful she is to have not only a great direct family but a decently sized (and fun) extended family as well. - her dad has always been her best friend first and foremost. they often did all the grocery shopping together (and sometimes one of her sisters would tag along too if they felt like coming along) and would spend the whole ride there and back taking the long routes just so they could listen to music with the windows down. - her mom is also a great mom but sometimes there is tension... mother/daughter relationships are like that you know - has three sisters: babs (barbara) who is ten months older, bea (beatrice) who is 1 year younger, and indy (FKA bells aka belinda but she has to be DIFFERENT..) who is 2 years younger and #thebaby. her and her sisters are close and fight like cats but when it comes to her family vs anyone else, bonnie will go down swinging for any of her relatives - bonnie's mother is the breadwinner: she works in stem doing <stem stuff> and her work has her home-base in aurora bay - father has been a tailor since forever - it was a skill his mother taught him and he later taught all of his girls the basics. bonnie took to it the best and had the strongest connection to the craft. in middle school she began experimenting with her own clothes and style, often upgrading the clothes that were bought for her or straight up making her own pieces. eventually, once she was good enough (and once her sisters trusted her) she was often dressing/helping dress all of them. - in high school, bonnie helped with costuming for the school plays/musicals, eventually designing the entire wardrobe for all the shows her senior year. - bonnie of course went to FIT for her schooling. she fit right in to the nyc way of life, and though she came back to california excited to return to her family, she knows she'll return someday - bonnie's father's connections to the upper-middle class of both the san francisco and san diego area gave her access to a network of possibilities. combined with her education at FIT, bonnie was quick to find a pathway to showing the stars her designs and looks. - bonnie took a part time job as a nail tech so that she could work with her sister and keep herself busy with consistent income (even though her solo work funds her plenty). she's not as good at nail art as her sister but she's good and it's fun to spend the days that she's not working on an intricate beaded jumpsuit hanging out with her sister and giggling with customers. - bonnie chooses to stay in AB because her father seems to be getting sick and she knows that she needs to suck up all the family time possible. the idea that something could change is crushing - so the full potential of her career will simply have to wait

PENNED BY MIGZ. ( @ aurorabayaesthetic )

[qwannon]

i am in full bloom / * a private & selective personal interpretation of kwannon from the marvel universe. canon divergent. told by paige, she/her, black, 28. information can be found below the cut.

rules.

mutuals only. no racism, godmodding, sexism, glorification of horrendous things, or any dehumanizing -phobias will be tolerated here. i reserve the right to softblock at any time.

basic rp etiquette applies. i don't claim to know everything about kwannon or her canon timeline ( as i'm still sifting through comics here and there ) so feel free to message me any insights or questions.

if i follow you, that means i want to write with you. always feel free to send me memes as i generally rely on them to get interactions going. triggers, usfw content and the like will be tagged accordingly.

otherwise, i'm low maintenance and pretty chill. i'm just here to write and have fun. sporadic activity = #hobbynotjobby!

details.

birth name. ( unknown ). given name. kwannon ( after the japanese goddess of mercy ). aliases. psylocke. previously revanche & nothing. age. late 30s. place of birth. tokyo, japan. descent. east asian ( japanese ). occupation. assassin. adventurer. species. mutant. hair color. black, deep violet highlights. eye color. cocoa, deep violet undertones. height. 5'11". alignment. neutral. affiliates. the hand. x-men. hellions. relatives. sora ( estranged daughter ). sexuality. bisexual. powers. telepathy, empathy, telekinesis, astral projection, flight. ( psychic knives & psychic katanas: she is able to produce psionic energy over her fists as weapons. if she penetrates her opponent while using them, she is able to render a psychic attack that instantaneously stuns or confuses or leads to a fatality ). abilities. master martial artist & combatant, expert swordswoman ( can be seen wielding a pair of traditional japanese katanas from time to time ).

origin.

this is not elisabeth 'betsy' braddock. this is kwannon. the once orphaned little girl who was taken in by an elderly agent of the hand to become an assassin ninja, a weapon against all lies, an enemy of peace. love found & love lost : concepts of reality that were used as weapons against her, and ultimately a twisted lesson from her clan. her boyfriend was murdered, her daughter was taken away from her. undergoing so much psychological torment flicks a switch and after a couple years pass, she turns against her mentors and kills them one by one, becoming what they always knew she was going to be. after, she freelances on a for-hire basis before becoming a bodyguard and elite assassin for the japanese crimelord, nyoirin. she falls in love with matsu’o tsurayaba who works for the hand ( & adversary to nyoirin ) - in which their work lives eventually collide and kwannon is mortally injured. this is the part where an amnesiac betsy braddock is found washed up ashore and matsu'o takes her body in hopes that a sorceress, spiral, can put kwannon's consciousness in betsy's body. it was successful, essentially fusing the two together physically, mentally, and spiritually, and it was also the day where kwannon's strenuous battle of recollecting her self-identity began.

enter revanche : a confused woman who believes she's someone else, but knows she is the true kwannon. months later, she gets infected with the legacy virus ( a plague to mutantkind ) and travels back to japan, requesting matsu'o to mercy kill her. in death, her psychic energy was released, reanimated, and restored right around the time betsy was also simultaneously attacked, thus returning kwannon's sole consciousness back into her refreshed body after three years. the rest plays out as anyone else could expect from a woman who lost years worth of time beyond her own reflection. kwannon is observant, calculated, brutal and often distant / but also loyal, compassionate and steadfast. some would say these seesaw qualities are what makes her lethal, and she very well knows it. currently, she's taken on the mantle of psylocke, working alongside whoever requests her skills when they find themselves in need.

verses.

tbd.

[roegadynroost]

FFXIVwrite 2023 - 23 Suit

Marjorie Viskle.

When Thyn'a thought of her most steadfast companion, a lot of things came to mind. 

The Highlander woman has been a Bard when their journeys brought them together, and to say that she were most talented at it would still be an understatement. In recent times however she'd set aside her harp and bow and joined Thyn'a on the frontlines, sword in hand has the Roegadyn wielded her spear.

They're traveled Gyr Abania together and sailed the seas to the far reaches of Othard. They'd been plucked from the source to the sister shard, the First, and even walked the ends of the universe together. 

When Scion duty called, they would be the first two on the frontlines risking it all for kith and kin, and of course for the thrill of the adventure. To say that their partnership transcended time and space would not really be much of an understatement. 

She to Thyn'a was one of the most amazing warriors on the star. 

But there was another thing that she also thought of that might surprise those that were less acquainted with her fellow Warrior of Light.

Marjorie was of the most stylish people that lived.

Their work didn't allow for much free time, when one problem was solved, another soon called. And somehow through all of that, the Hyuran woman managed to keep her gear in both fashionable and functional accord. 

Thyn'a was no slouch, but the attention to detail in Marjorie's outfits was never subpar, and she's proudly show off her gear and point out how different colors matched different parts of the sit. Thyn'a could listen for hours, and today was one such moment.

"I think it suits you." Thyn'a said warmly to Marjorie, admiring the detailing on her new sword and shield.

"Thanks!" Marjorie excitedly said in return before continuing to point out little quirks of the look.

[teaonastro]

Niya being so comfortable with telling you all to kill yourselves over a blog tells me everything I need to know about her and Pluto's entire group.

People (+ @astrotroll) keep demanding evidence of these accusations. Which is understandable, but even when proof is given, this group gaslights everyone as if the rest of us don't have eyes or says "Wellll that's not really what they meant."

This is precisely why screaming about "Where is the proof!!! Where is the evidence!!!!!" is meaningless. They just twist objective evidence to paint themselves as victims.

Niya admitted it was her in those conversations. She also admitted in those conversations that Pluto instructed her and others to harass innocent people. Now, she wants to say "uwu I was so young", which makes things worse because it means Pluto went about manipulating a minor to do her dirty work.

Dearest gentle reader, Indeed, we are most inclined to agree. It is rather telling, is it not, how Miss Niya- so quick to unsheath her venomous words in defence of her ilk- has now vanished from view, deleting the very rants that betrayed her true sentiments. A most convenient retreat, one might say, now that the evidence she once so brazenly presented has begun to speak volumes.

What Miss Niya so freely uttered in her now-vanished tirades speaks far more to the character of herself and that circle she defends than it ever could about us. To so carelessly wield threats of such a vile nature over a mere blog? That is not passion, dear reader- it is cruelty masked as righteousness. And let us be frank: such conduct betrays not just poor judgement, but an utter lack of the compassion and dignity one might expect from those who parade themselves as spiritual guides. It is becoming increasingly clear that this cohort ought not be trusted. Their fabrications, their evasions, their coordinated attempts to silence dissent- all paint the portrait of a group more concerned with power and preservation than with truth or healing. Let it be said plainly: we are not fooled, and we know we are not alone. Those who see with clear eyes will recognise the rot beneath the florals, and those who fear them today may yet find their voice tomorrow. As ever, we remain steadfast.

And yet, even with confessions laid bare and patterns so plainly drawn, there are those who continue to twist the truth like ribbon in a lady’s hair, insisting that all is mere conjecture. Alas, when the objective is to preserve image rather than pursue integrity, no measure of evidence will ever suffice for those unwilling to see! As for the matter of @astrotroll, we cannot feign surprise. The familiar cadence of those who dwell behind it is unmistakable - the very same voices who have sought to silence us time and time again. Their alliances are thinly veiled, and their aims transparent to anyone paying heed. What we find most curious, however, is that Miss Niya herself confirmed the inner workings of Pluto’s Discord domain- a place where manipulation flourished, even upon the vulnerable shoulders of the young. And still, many choose silence. Out of fear, no doubt. But let it be known: we are not afraid. We shall continue to speak, as ever, with clarity and purpose. Yours, The Whistledown Ladies

[corishadowfang]

#these are so cool to think about!!#im curious what headcanons you have for specific characters’ keyblades 👀

(tags via @starlightwayfinder)

Oh, man--I have a few, haha.

Kingdom Key was actually the initial Keyblade I was thinking about with that last bullet point, because like--it wasn't supposed to be Sora's at first! It was supposed to be Riku's! It just decided to choose Sora instead when Riku used darkness to get off Destiny Islands! So like--going back to the "Keyblades are reflections of their wielders, but they may not be consciously aware of how" idea, I like to think that like--there was a subconscious part of Riku that knew this wasn't a good idea, and Kingdom Key reacted to that by going to someone that he trusts pretty implicitly. It's also interesting that Kingdom Key...jumps back and forth a bit more often than most Keyblades, so it gives me the impression that it's a little bit fickle? At least at first, haha.

I imagine Master's Defender isn't Brain's actual Keyblade--just one that was passed down to him from Ava. Because of that, it doesn't reflect Brain quite as much as a normal Keyblade would. I imagine that it's a very...steadfast and stern sort of Keyblade? Over the years, I think it ends up accumulating a lot of stored knowledge just from how many wielders have used it. While I don't think it's quite as fickle as Kingdom Key, I do imagine that it's probably had favorites.

(Kind of a sidenote, but now that I'm thinking about it, there are actually several Keyblades that are just kind of...there? Like, Riku and Mickey go to Yen Sid to ask for new Keyblades in KH3; Riku just...has Destiny's Embrace to give to Kairi; Kingdom Key D is just kind of...there. So I imagine there must be some way to forge "true" Keyblades somehow?)

Ven's is interesting, because I imagine that when his heart got split, his Keyblade also got split/damaged in a way. Wayward Wind is very...well, flighty, haha. I kind of imagine its "song" sometimes wavers a bit, and gets mixed up with strange sounds/images that aren't really typical for it, like it's trying to reach for something its forgotten. I also imagine that it's a bit more fragile and easier to break than normal Keyblades. (100% drawn from KH2's secret ending, haha.)

While Ephemer and Skuld both wield Starlight Keyblades, I imagine there are some notable differences between them, haha. Like--I'd imagine their "songs" are different, first off? Ephemer's would be like--kind of like the sound of the woods at night? Like--there's a certain peace to it, but there are also promises of Other Things to find, if you go looking for it. Skuld's would have some of that, too, though like--given that she's associated with stars, I imagine hers really leans into the "starlight" thing, with a kind of almost-icy crackling fire.

Just to round out the Union Leaders, Lauriam's Divine Rose is like...deceptively calm most of the time, but is really comes alive in a fight. Like--"Lauriam had to struggle a lot to keep it under control" kind of alive. It's a little bit alarming to him, and while he and Divine Rose have come to a sort of "understanding," he still feels like he has to keep something of a tight leash on it.

Eraqus I don't think ever summoned a Keyblade of his own! Much like Brain, he was given Master's Defender, and, well...that was that. (I'd like to imagine he ends up bonding pretty well with the Keyblade, though--and that it probably shapes who he ends up becoming.)

...Do you mind if I ramble about hypothetical worldbuilding around Keyblades in these trying times.

Keyblades are semi-living weapons.  They’re forged from a piece of a person’s heart, and so act as an extension of the individual.  They have ‘personalities,’ in a way; some are mischievous and won’t always come when called, others are almost battle-hungry, others are gentle and may be harder to get to use offensive magic.  These personalities are all reflections of their wielders, in some way—though they might reflect parts of them they aren’t aware of at all.  Wielders are responsible for listening to their weapons and becoming more in-tune with them so that they can use the blades properly.

Keyblades all of their own ‘voices,’ too—a collection of sounds and impressions that vary in intensity depending on the situation.  (ex. A Starlight Keyblade might have a “voice” that sounds like crackling fire and crickets chirping and a cool night breeze.)  Most wielders would describe these voices as “singing” or “humming,” even if that’s not exactly what it’s like.

Becoming a wielder and becoming more in-tune with your Keyblade can be very daunting, which is why most young wielders are started off with training blades.  These blades are crafted by Keyblade Masters who’ve had years of experience both with wielding the actual weapon and with forging items.  The training blades aren’t “alive” in the same way that true Keyblades are, but they still have many of the same functions as one, allowing wielders to begin getting used to wielding one before they officially summon their own.

Wielders generally first summon their “true” Keyblade in their final year of training, before they take their Mark of Mastery exam.  This gives the apprentices a chance to learn some of the finer details of being a wielder under the watchful eyes of their Masters.

“Living” Keyblades tend to hum with energy, and even people who aren’t wielders can sometimes catch the sound of their voice.  “Dead” Keyblades are almost eerily silent.

A Keyblade may “live” longer than its owner, though the length of time varies.  Essentially, the Keyblade retains a piece of its wielder—memories, an impression of the wielders heart—which will slowly deteriorate.  These memories may occasionally manifest as “ghosts.”

Occasionally, a wielder may inherit an existing Keyblade, rather than summon their own.  Generally, this only occurs with very old Keyblades with a lot of symbolic meaning, which have been kept alive generation after generation by bonding to new wielders.  (As such, these Keyblades have also continued to grow in power, as they continue to collect pieces of the new wielders they bond to.)  Usually these wielders are meant to take up positions of power, and the Keyblade is bequeathed to them in a special ceremony.  Their own Keyblades will often (though not always) remain dormant because of this.

(On even rarer occasions, wielders will pick up the still-living Keyblades of recently deceased loved ones and claim them as their own.  The effects are not always positive.)

[wedreamedlove]

Hello! What couple in light and night has the best chemistry in your opinion? And which couple is your favorite? Sorry for my English, and thanks in advance!

not sure if you also sent in this earlier ask, but since they're about the same thing i'll just put them together.

i mentioned in a past post that it feels like light and night has multiple genre universes under the umbrella of its main universe (the one we players play) and i still stand by this opinion. it means that every male lead feels like the “otp” when we’re in their “universe” and so all couples have strong chemistry and it just depends on what you personally like.

Sariel = xianxia

Evan = gothic romance

Osborn = wuxia

Jesse = greek tragedy

Charlie = modern drama

SARIEL. this pair can be summed up as the immortal nonhuman + mortal human couple. there are even xianxia tropes here like past lives (still waiting to be confirmed but there’s too many hints), sealed or wiped memories, punishments for defying fate and crossing the interspecies line. these two really give off the feeling of star-crossed soulmates.

EVAN. not only is he a vampire, but also a byronic hero. think of the atmosphere from charlotte bronte, emily bronte, and jane austen but then crank up the gothic romance vibes to something like crimson peak. there is not enough space here—and i’m not eloquent enough—to talk about what vampires represent in classic literature (sexual taboo, transgressions, etc) but just know that light and night writers are well aware of the savagery, inhumanity, and hedonism behind classic vampires and lean into that hard. this is peak monstrous vampire + human couple.

OSBORN. he was a punk, she did ballet. what more can i say? sorry, sorry, but he really attracts good girls who have a rebellious streak. the way this works in a wuxia universe is to think of him as a wandering swordsman who has his own moral code that protects the weak and innocent, not necessarily upholding justice because he kills people but overall doing good. the heroine is the sheltered princess or noble who longs for freedom and adventure and joins this wanderer. meanwhile, the swordsman learns to love and be loved by the innocent girl and has a home that tethers him to the world. they can be summed up as the rogue and noble or, as Osborn would say, it’s the big bad dragon who kidnaps the sword-wielding princess.

JESSE. they’re childhood friend to lovers so there’s no way they don’t have chemistry. what i really like about them (because i normally don’t like this trope) is that they roughhouse more than other childhood friend pairings i’ve seen. they do so much playful ribbing to each other; makes me feel like they’re a college couple. his genre universe comes into play here—and, admittedly the example sounds bad—by forcing a path onto Jesse because of his very nature and the heroine can do nothing but maintain her love for him and pray for his safety, like penelope in odysseus.

CHARLIE. pick any dog blood drama currently playing right now and this is their chemistry, haha, except they’re really steadfast and supportive of each other. but i mean we have evil relatives and conspiracies surrounding them and Charlie is under crushing parental expectations. these two have really sweet soulmate vibes and a fairy tale atmosphere like cinderella and rapunzel, with both of them being princes and princesses for each other.

as for myself, i thought my bias was obvious here but my favorite couple is Osborn and his heroine. i share a lot of her reactions to him so i’m just constantly being flustered and teased by this man. i also really, really admire his untamable and unbreakable spirit. my friends joke all the time about me having a thing for "freedom” men (it’s all in the yearning) but i also adore men who crave to love and be loved and Osborn covers both of these so well.

It turned out that the desire for freedom was just because there were no attachments. — [SSR The 400 Blows]

O: I think it’s precisely because there’s nostalgia and attachments that a long journey becomes a trip. O: Otherwise it can only be called “wandering”. — [SSR Within Reach]

[wearepaladin]

I’m running a campaign with a Paladin - oath of the ancients. Though we are still relatively near the beginning I’m working on building a narrative around the Paladin that his goddess in fact *fears* him. She has feared what he will do once he has both the knowledge of her origin and the power she has slowly granted him over time. He is steadfast in his faith and devotions and believes that the challenges and quests and things she has placed before him are his chance to do good. While this isn’t necessarily untrue - she has also been setting him on the path of correcting imbalances of the natural world she intends for him to die to. He has survived and succeeded where she expected him to fail, to quit, to be killed.

Millennia ago this goddess along with six others, were born as reflections of seven incredibly powerful individuals who ruled over an arcane society known as the Veilborn. That society fell in a thousand year long apocalyptic event brought on by the foremost among the Veilborn choosing to bring an old one from the depths of the dark tapestry (EXU calamity has been giving me an ulcer as more details get revealed). And from that time of chaos the Paladins Goddess and Six others rose. She fears him learning the details of her ascension as he is the mortal reincarnation of the Septarch she is a reflection of. She fears him coming into his own power, what he will do with his knowledge and his connection to her, but he is steadfast and good and devoted and is trying his best- she views him as one of her champions, one of those most worthy of wielding her power.

I guess my question is, does this sound interesting? Do you have ideas or thoughts I should consider in making this narrative a satisfying arc for my pally player?

It does sound interesting, and no matter what direction the Paladin goes, they have a story worth exploring. One of cycles or of them breaking, Of the weight of our choices and how we might see our descendants or even other versions of ourselves rise where we fell. Do we help them, even if it exposes our failings to the point of their anger, or do we choose trust and forgiveness, for ourselves as much as them.

Stories like these tend to have those themes, even if on the surface it’s about paladins and their gods.

[vipier-a]

" AND DISTRACT MYSELF FROM MY RESPONSIBILITIES BY SEEKING TO SATE MY EGO WITH THE PRINCESS'S PERSONAL APPROVAL? " tristan gives a single huff, as though his response should be obvious. were he another, perhaps he would take offense. and if he were another even still, perhaps he would provide another answer entirely : that he did, in fact, endeavor to impress zelda instead. but he is tristan and the opinion of the princess is of little value to him – not as a mark against her, not remotely, but rather because his own assignment has little – if anything, really – to do with her. it does not move him that some of kenneth's humor has clearly been extinguished by his words ; if anything, it motivates him to elaborate, even though he is not typically one for much elaboration. " whether or not she deserves it is hardly the relevant question. your sister is not my charge, highness, and it would do naught but distract me to concern myself with her specific opinion of me. " his shoulders twitch in the very shadow of a shrug and his brow quirks, only momentarily. " or would you wish for me to direct my attention away from you for such self indulgent endeavors? somehow, I doubt that very much. "

his true meaning goes unspoken : don't you wish for somebody to think of you first, my prince? half the time, tris cannot guess exactly what the prince thinks of him. he catches his curious glances, those unblinking eyes ever bright and active, as if perpetually attempting to solve some riddle that only kenneth knows. yet often, there remains a dismissiveness in his manner like this, a bite of sarcasm, a spit of flame beneath the prince's typically quiet overlay. everyone possesses layers, tristan knows that well enough, but the prince's make him somehow both curious and suspicious, teasing at his natural curiosity while also presenting further reason to keep his distance.

the knight's gaze narrows as the prince approaches, wielding his ornate dagger. he supposes it stands to reason that, at some point, it was expected he would participate in a tourney or two as the prince's guard, whether anonymously or not. it has never been his preference, raised as he was in the shadows and so naturally adverse to the concept of glory. eagerness might prove a better disguise, but there are limits to his motivation to act. it seems, however, that it will make little difference in light of the prince's preferences. tris lifts his eyes as he's offered the dagger's handle, gazing at kenneth, unreadable, if only because one thought presses brutally against the forefront of his mind. are you handing me the blade with which I will one day slit your throat? hastily, violently, he shoves the taunting question to the back of his mind, unwilling to consider why it so unsettles him with the prince's bright eyes so fixed upon him. no sense considering the future until the command has come to pass.

" a new champion? " he echoes the prince doubtfully, as if still considering whether to compete even as he reaches to take the dagger's handle, an act which unquestionably confirms his acceptance. " and who but me would you choose? " try as he may to avoid it, the slightest hint of an offended edge creeps into his tone, although the pretense disappears just as quickly as he turns his attention to examining the gift in his hand. the weight of it confirms its impressive utility, deadly as it is beautiful, and the guard hesitates for a few moments, which feel in his own mind much longer than they actually are. to thank the prince seems like the wrong thing, and yet, how else to respond to such favor?

finally, his gaze once again lifts to kenneth's, his dark eyes unyielding, steadfast, as he inclines his head in a single nod, pulling the dagger to his chest over his very beating heart. he does not mean for the gesture to be duplicitous, and yet it feels that way regardless. a creature like he is not meant to feel something as pedestrian as guilt. " if it be his highness's wish to see me compete, " he says, fingers still tight against the weapon's fine hilt, eyes still locked to the prince's, " then it is to the will of my prince that I submit. " a spark passes his expression as he tilts his head just so to the side, suddenly curious. ( whether or not it is to push aside his internal conflict isn't relevant, he decides. ) " is it that you wish to show me off? "

he stood quietly, fingers steepled behind his back, as the guard took to lecturing him with the speed and efficiency normally employed by impa, who, unlike tristan, had both the boldness and the authority to pull his ear while she was at it too. the reminder brought a wistful sigh to his lips, though he tried egregiously and nobly to not tune the guard out, or remind him he was speaking to the prince. that ceremonial title would not suit a walking corpse at any rate, and though his father the king was not prone to dispensing important life lessons on his only son, he had once told him the story of a king, who barked too far and too wide about his status, and therefore, was no king at all. the dagger in his hand was a comfort; while few saw the worth in him in the castle, he had made his mark elsewhere, by the hylians who had taught him war and battle, lent him his scars.

he doubted the sheikah standing proudly before him knew of that, but perhaps it was for the better that he did not as of yet: a prince too quick and clever on fighting and winning wars would not befit the image of his spare-ness.

❛❛ and you know more than me about royal etiquettes too,   ❜❜ he said, and any sarcasm that might have been, was difficult to suspend with the wide eyed brightness he bore. he clasped his hands together and tucked them beneath his chin, as if utterly focused. ❛❛ that is good, i rarely listened in twenty one years. now, i shouldn't dare disappoint the court.   ❜❜

he said this bit more seriously, his mouth twitching. of course, the prince would never cross the court! not even for the sheikah, apparently. it would have been within his jurisdiction and right then to retort more viciously for insolence, but he held his tongue, not for the matter of mercy but for fact: the guard, for all his ramblings, seemed to have not forgotten his task at all. that was good enough for a start. the mention of the prince's sisters slowed his thoughts and movements; though he does not let go of the knife, he presses its tip to his index, his face contorting into a soft sort of thoughtfulness as he set his back to the guard. must it always be about her? but that was a weak and faded complaint. of a child perhaps. and even young, he might have hated her for all of it, if he did not love her as earnestly as she loved him. it was why when he rounded on the guard, some of his humour had faded with calculation.

            ❛❛ yes. do you not?   ❜❜ and with the way that he had said it, it was apparent there was only one right answer to this lest heresy be proclaimed: yes. ❛❛ she would deserve it, and a moment of reprieve.   ❜❜ the knight retorts back, and he cannot help but be reminded, that the perceptions of the castle must have slithered into the minds of the sheikah too. for this one spoke to him as one would speak to an unknowing simpleton, and he restrained his irritation and hurt, there was no point to it at all. ❛❛ the second,   ❜❜ he answered simply, as if he sought merely entertainment and whim. ❛❛ i should like to see how you fare. besides, you would be adorned in a helmet, and you need now say your name. here.   ❜❜ he flipped the dagger over, handle to the knight while the blade sat between his skin, refusing to slice it open.

his smile was careful and light, but those who knew him better would find the mischief just beneath. ❛❛ a gift, and my token. you will fight for me if you choose, or i should select a new champion.   ❜❜

[professorthaddeus]

Mother, Father. This will be my final letter.

You know, I used to find the two of you everywhere. I would see the love I betrayed in the faces of families who are whole. I would hear your terrified screams in laughter. I would see your bodies twisted in agony in the flickering of a campfire. I would feel your blood on my hands every time I cast a spell.

I would find you everywhere, and so I held fast to the possibility that I would bring you back.

Today, I relinquished the chance of it ever becoming a reality.

I could have gone back and saved you. It would have worked. There were puzzle pieces in that chamber that I would have clicked into place; there was magic buried in those relics that I would have unlocked and unleashed.

I would have joined the ranks of mages of myth. I could have unraveled everything.

The chamber is nothing but ashes now.

I still find the two of you everywhere. Your dreams for my potential are in the spells I learned from Essek. Your hope for the Empire is in Beauregard’s pen as she fights for our people, stroke by stroke. Your love is in the grin that Veth shines on her son when he fires a toy crossbow at the ass of a local shopkeeper.

I miss you. I love you. I am sorry.

I hope I can still make you proud.

~

Caleb closes that worn, leather-bound book for the last time. Tucks it back beneath his arm, stands, walks to the entryway of his tower. His hand shakes as he reaches for the handle.

Well, you and the Nein got me to the door. Now I have to walk through it.

He takes a deep breath, then takes his first step outside.

He arrives in Blumenthal alone, visits their graves, leaves his letters in the ground.

And he gets to work. But in this, he is not alone.

Beauregard is there, matching every armload of books he carries with two of her own. They spend their days compiling records and narratives, wielding the truth both in court and behind the scenes—children of the Empire leaving their home better than they found it for the children who will come after them, just as they always vowed.

What wasn’t planned is this: a couple times every week, Beauregard drags Caleb out of the library. They teleport to a remote cottage in a location that few are privy to, where Yasha will have started preparing the ingredients for a new recipe from Caduceus. The instructions are often passed through a jumbled chain of Jester’s messages, and there always seem to be a suspicious number of bugs included for supposedly vegetarian dishes, but they make it work all the same. On more than a few occasions, Caleb plays referee while Beauregard and Yasha spar, safe in the knowledge that their attacks are of their own free will and they will never truly harm each other again.

Jester and Fjord spend much of their time on the open sea, but Jester’s voice is never far from Caleb’s ear. She tells him of everything from her newest tattoo victim to an encounter with a dragon turtle with a grudge, from a shanty about dicks she came up with on the fly to an update on a young half-orc girl Fjord has taken under his wing. Every once in a while, Jester will demand a reunion, too. Some of them are out of necessity—such as when Uk’otoa finally comes knocking and Fjord can no longer sail the other away—but many are not. They meet in Nicodranas when the Nein Heroez docks for a pastry run, they meet in Hupperdook for a night packed with drinking contests and celebone sticks and hugs for Kiri, they meet on Rumblecusp when life becomes too much and the nine of them sorely need to fuck off to a vacation. Soon, even Darktow is open to them, once Kingsley has unseated the Plank King and lifted their ban from the island. His reign is long, and it is magnificent. Until he grows bored.

Caduceus joins them for every mandated reunion, but for the most part, he tends to his garden or explores the world on his own. But he is never out of reach, and when he does not come to the rest of them, they go to him. It is not uncommon for Caleb to arrive in the Blooming Grove to see Beauregard already meditating by the pond. Other times, Fjord will be there drinking tea with Caduceus, and the three of them will share a quiet conversation, each far more secure in their words than they’d been over fish and chips all those years ago. Often it is just Caduceus and his parents and siblings, and Caleb will be invited to a family dinner in a home that Ikithon could not burn down.

Veth remains a constant in Caleb’s life. Of course she does. Sometimes, when the two of them are teaching the neighborhood kids how to point a copper wire, or reminiscing over a glass of sherry, or simply talking while she weaves flowers into his hair on the beaches of Nicodranas, he’ll think back to his old fears of losing her to her family and laugh. After all, how could such a thing be possible when he is a part of her family himself?

There are others, too.

Countless students who pass under his tutelage and grow into young mages who know that power should be used to protect, not to manipulate. A cat—well, there are many cats, but there is one in particular that Caleb does not own, a snowy white fey cat who slinks in and out of his classroom as he pleases, whose eyes seem to flash when the Martinet arrives to have a word, who settles into place around Caleb’s shoulders with a purr when the rare nightmare returns.

An unexpected kinship with Yeza, forged at first through mutual respect and an understanding in their love for Veth, but eventually growing into a friendship in its own right. It is one that unfolds in quiet nights by stacks of books, in gleeful debates when comparing notes on magic and alchemy, in exhausted evenings watching over Luc together while Veth takes a girls’ night out to cause some chaos with Jester, Beauregard, and Yasha.

His old friends, who, try as they might, never seem able to sever the threads that have always tangled their fates together. It is Eadwulf who comes around first, with the silent offering of a bottle and a grim smile as he and Caleb crumble the bricks of Vergesson to dust. Astrid takes time. It makes sense—she has always been a fantastic dancer, and for a while, it appears they will be trapped in a precarious political tango forever, stepping around each other in their roles as the Archmage of Civil Influence and a simple teacher who may or may not be practicing treason in his classroom. But in the shadows, Astrid pulls a few strings to keep Caleb out of prison. Caleb hears a rumor and sends the might of the Cobalt Soul after a colleague who wants Astrid dead. And eventually, she begins joining him and Wulf on their evening walks through the streets of Rexxentrum. They return to the dance hall. They get lunch. They share memories, relearn each other’s old scars, and discover that solace can still be found in each other the way it was when they were children. It will always be complicated. It starts to become beautiful.

And of course, floating by Caleb’s side every step of the way is Essek, a drow who has learned to curb his ambition and care for others, who has decided to make his own amends. The former Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, who now spends his days picking up cupcakes for Jester in Uthodurn, planting seeds in the Blooming Grove. Sitting in on Caleb’s lessons with a different face each week, sketching runes into the floor of Caleb’s home amongst scattered papers and spell components, curling up on a couch beside Caleb and begrudgingly getting through Tusk Love because he promised. A traitor, a hero, a lifelong friend. A steadfast love.

So when Caleb Widogast arrives at the final page of his story, he is no longer shrouded in guilt, or grief, or regret. No, he is surrounded by the warmth of his chosen family when he takes his last breath, when time has run its course and he is finally ready to meet his parents again.

(And even before he sees their faces, he knows. He knows he made them proud.)

—————

also on ao3 | my other cr fics

[foxymoxynoona]

the one shot made me cry. thank you so much for writing it. i was the one requesting it.

it was so beautiful. you captured perfectly how *i think* yoongi would behave as a parent. his steadfastness and bottomless pit of patience was so on point, but even more realistic was when he could feel himself get overwhelmed when his two babies started crying. joo was so adorable, the way you could totally see how she adored her big brother and thought the world of him.

but most of all, i felt for kija. it was so heartbreaking to see him feel like he was behind in school, that he wasn’t good enough. (those stupid smiley faces… i’ve always thought shit like “rewarding the best by adding special shit and flaunting it in class for all to see” was so unnecessary for younger kids, but that’s just me. im not a parent).

and im really happy how yoongi patiently set it straight that you didnt always have to be good academically because school was not the only way to achieve success, and that kija was still six and so still had a lot of time to learn, and that YOU DIDNT ALWAYS HAVE TO BE THE BEST AT THINGS!!! this is so important!!!! i WISH my parents had told me these things when i was little instead of expecting me to excel at everything and getting severely mad when i didnt!!!

and how yoongi assured kija that he had so much to offer than counting and reading. that he was good at memorizing, that he was good at storytelling… like kija couldn’t see how his own baby sister looked at him with awe. it broke my heart but also warmed it at the same time.

and the last lines here:

“He didn’t make it through the emails. Instead he sent you an email with nothing but a heart emoji in it. It was simple, but it would make you smile. You never seemed to mind when his affection was simple.”

and

“You had now been gone for thirty-two of the fifty-four hours.

Yoongi had never missed you more.

But at least he had two little pieces of you to sleep sprawled across him, just like you would have if you were here.”

i completely bawled.

you’re such a phenomenal writer. the way you string words into these beautiful sentences and phrases that always hit right in the solar plexus. you wield these words like a paintbrush. every stroke is beautiful. im so honored and privileged to be able to experience your writing. im so so so glad i found you.

Waaaaah your comment made ME cry! I'm so relieved you liked it even though I complicated such a simple little sweet scene you had asked for haha. Your description of my writing really made me tear up, you have such a way with words and it made me feel so nice! I'm glad we found each other too and I hope I write many more things you enjoy <3

[casualreader1234]

Reunion

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

An: Part two of the random story idea I had. I think I'm just going to keep the same summary each time because I'm too bad at writing them. I tried to make this gender-neutral, and I don't think I wrote anything that would imply a particular sex, but let me know.

Summary: What if you weren't the hero of the story? What if you were the villain meant to burn the world down?

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Morally gray protagonist, violence

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1], [Part 2]

This gif is so funny to me.

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When you had first arrived in the U.S, you had been intrigued by tales of the infamous Black Widow, a former Russian assassin turned good, that was enough to catch anyone's attention. To satisfy your curiosity, you had tracked her down, wanting to see her for yourself. Watching her from afar, you understood why she was considered one of the best in her field: her movements always flowed into the next like she was performing a dance.

She easily disposed of her targets, strapping her weapons back onto herself. Seeing the completion of her job, you left the ledge of the building you had been standing of before she could see you. Slipping into the shadow, you had to admit that your interests had been piqued by the assassin.

///

You had always known that your girlfriend had been hiding secrets, but this one was far more exciting than you had thought. Never had it crossed your mind that Natasha might also be involve in the assassin industry. For such a planet, what were the chances of two assassins meeting and starting a relationship without either being the wiser. You weren't sure if that made her exceptionally good at her job, or you exceptionally bad at yours.

Asking around to some of your other contacts, you learned more about the KGB and the Red Room program that had trained Natasha, wanting a glimpse into her childhood. Disgust and rage filled you when you learned about the operation. They had hurt her, so you had made sure they all suffered for their crimes. Then, you returned back to America.

It was the reason you had stayed all these years. She was the reason. Though you've known where she's been all this time, you never revealed yourself. Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was out of shame.

It hadn't surprised you that Natasha decided to work for SHIELD. You've also known that she had a good heart, but it did make things more complicated.

She was one of the good guys now. If she ever crossed paths with you, she would be forced to face you as an enemy. So, for both of your sakes, you avoided doing things that would get SHIELD attention, carefully selecting jobs that would run under the radar. You had been careful, erasing most of your tracks, yet here you were, chained down to a table in a SHIELD facility.

Natalia-no-Natasha stared down at you. You unconsciously cringed under her intense gaze.

" How are you darling?" You asked, breaking the thick silence and giving her a small smile. "I must say, you look as stunning as always. Did you do something to your hair? It seems to be shorter."

Natasha didn't reply, instead shaking her head angrily. " What the hell, (Y/n). What are you doing in the U.S?"

Her harsh tone almost made you flinch. “ Here to visit my beautiful girlfriend? I've really missed you.” You tried, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your neck. Natasha may not have any powers but damn was this woman scary when she was mad. Flattery wasn't going to work on Nat though, her face stone cold as she looked down at you.

"That doesn't answer the question, milyy (darling)." She replied with a strained smile.

Tony watched the exchange with a slack jaw, eyes looking like they were going to pop out of his sockets from shock. “ I’m sorry? You know this criminal Nat?”

Your head snapped to the man, jaw clenching. “ Nat?" You sputtered at the intimate nickname. "Who gave you permission to call her Nat?” You swiveled back to look at Natasha. “What is your relationship with him?” You asked accusingly.

Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Tony. “ Don’t call me Nat, Stark. And this idiot here is (Y/N).”

"Yeah, her [girlfriend/boyfriend] ! " You added helpfully.

The look Natasha gave you was deadly enough to silence you again. She turned her attention back to Tony, " Do you want to fill me on what's happening Stark? I return from a mission and hear from Steve that we had caught a mutant, but I wasn't even aware that we were after one." You frowned at the fact that had she referred to you as a mutant, but chose to ignore it.

Tony shrugged, acting like a bratty overgrown child," No, I don't want to." Natasha's jaw clenched and you decided to lend a helping hand.

Tendrils of black suddenly snaked around Tony, pining him hard against the wall behind him. His eyes widened, shooting to the origin of the magic, seeing you now unbounded and smiling widely at him, the handcuff hanging loosely off the table. Standing up, you rubbed at the red marks on your wrist left by the binds.

"Better answer her, Mr. Stark, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side." You threatened, eyes turning pure black for a split second.

Tony desperately looked at Natasha for help, but she stayed steadfast, unmoved and patiently waiting for him to answer. Realizing that no help was coming, he relented. "Fury got tipped off about some assassin that had been piling up bodies all across the U.S and North America. At first we dismissed them as the work of sporadic killers, not linking the deaths together until we got another tip about them being a mutant. We had Wanda examine a few of the bodies and she confirmed that magic was the cause of death. Since then, we've had our eye set on a contracted killer who went by the alias Reaper. A few weeks ago, we got a hit on their last location, and from there, we planned our trap."

Realization dawned onto you, " You put a bounty over yourself!" You exclaimed with a chuckle, thoroughly impressed by their commitment. It was a good plan, one that you hadn't even considered. Of course, if it had been any other week, the plan would've failed.

Every time you used magic, there was a backlash. The magic was deep inside you, a part of your very being, but it didn't stay that way willingly. The black flames were a dark and ancient form of magic, one that could only be wielded by a select few. Long ago, many groups had tried to master the arts, but most failed. The magic was powerful, more than anyone really knew, and only grew more so as it consumed more energy. Magicians didn't as much wield the magic, as they did subjugate it.

Candidates trained for years in preparation for the infusion, getting their body ready to handle massive amount of energy. When they were deemed ready, they would be exposed to a pure form of the magic. The flames would consume them and their screams could be heard for miles. Most people who entered the last trial end up dead, completely consumed by the magic. A few though, came out stronger. Instead of being consumed by the flames, they had somehow consumed the flames, magic now flowing through their veins.

Even then, the magic inside of wielders fought against their vessels, constantly trying to escape. The ring you wore helped you control the magic inside, absorbing some of the power and trapping the rest of the flames within you, where it couldn't escape and grow any stronger. But every time you took off the ring, you unintentionally let the magic grow, and when it finally returns back to you, the fight inside gets a little tougher.

Normally, it didn't affect you much. You had been trained since childhood to control the magic, so you could go hours with continuous magic use without any major repercussion. But the past month, you had really tested your bounds, toeing the limits of your control. This inevitably degraded your mental state, leaving your mind a little hazy. This meant you were a lot more impulsive and less observant, something that played in favor to SHIELD's trap. You knew you shouldn't have taken the hit on Tony, especially due to your exhaustion, but you had let your excitement of possibly seeing Natasha blind you. Nevertheless, the current situation didn't really worry you anyways, although you made a note to deal with a problem later.

"And why wasn't I informed of this?" Natasha pressed on.

"Don't take it personally. You're area of skills weren't required for the job, so you weren't informed. Simple as that." Tony plainly stated, clearly sensing the Russian's agitation.

You had to stifle your laughter at the irony. If Natasha had been assigned to the case earlier, you probably would've been captured much sooner.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, obviously deep in thought as well. " Release him, (Y/N)." She finally said and you happily obliged, but not sliding you ring back on, letting the flames surround you in a hazy aura incase you needed to react to any threats. Tony let out of breathe of relief as your magic retreated, but you could see that he was still a bit shaken up, the effects not fully wearing off.

"Hey are you alright darling?" You asked concernedly, ignoring the wobbling man when you caught Natasha looking a little pale. Walking over to where she was, you reached out a hand to lightly caress her cheek, the flames retreating as it reached her. You hesitated for a split second, unsure of how she would react, but Natasha leaned into your touch. Her eyes met yours. It was the same bright green that you dreamt about, and they looked even more dazzling up close. She smiled up at you and it was like all the years you've spent apart hadn't happened.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She whispered reassuringly and you smiled too in relief. “ What does Fury want with the (Y/N)?” She asked Tony, but her eyes didn't leave you.

“ The same thing we do to all threats. We either eliminate or imprison them .” He answered, voice indifferent.

Natasha turned to him, much to your dismay, “Why can’t we accept them into SHIELD?” she offered instead.

Tony, who had thought your weird relationship with Natasha was the strangest thing that could happen, couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You want to let an assassin into our ranks? Are you crazy?! Did you already get your hands on the vodka shelf?” He stammered.

Natasha gave him a dark look, one that sent a chill of excitement down your spine, “I was an assassin too Tony.”

Tony didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, but he didn’t need to. The door to the room swung opened again, this time a larger blonde man marching in. You recognized him from your intel: Steve Rogers-Captain America. Behind him, you saw several heavily armed agents behind him, their guns trained on you.

Natasha whipped around at the sudden intrusion, surprise flashing across her face. " Steve." She said warningly, noticing the same things you did, but Steve didn't let her finish, already throwing out his shield in attack. The metal was launched at you, cutting through the air faster than the eyes could follow.

You easily caught it, magic stopping it mid-flight.

You sighed at his pathetic attempt, " Mr. Rogers, don't you know it's rude to interrupt? You can't just come in here, guns blazing, and shield flying." You reprimanded, lazily throwing the shield back to the man. Steve tried to catch the shield, but was knocked back by the sheer force of your throw. The men immediately behind him stumbled back in shock as the 6'1 super solider crashed into them. Those who were left standing quickly recovered and upon realizing that their first line of attack had been beaten, prepared to shoot. They found themselves unable to. Fear had crept up on them during the ruckus and now they were unable to move as your magic seeped through them. With a simple wave of your hand, the black flames around you attacked and within seconds, all the agents, including Cap, dropped to the floor.

"What?" Tony gasped in horror, and for the first time, he seemed to truly understand the extent of your power.

"Relax, they're not dead. I just knocked them out for-" You pretended to check your wrist for a watch, " -a while. I don't know, I usually don't wait around for the people I knock out to wake back up."

Natasha was staring in shock at the pile of bodies by the door and you saw something indistinguishable in her eyes. A distinct chime echoed off the walls of the room, drawing your attention to your phone in the corner. You walked over to it, Tony looking like he wanted to stop you but was too terrified to. Picking it up, you read the message silently. Shouting could be heard getting louder, footsteps pounding towards you as alarms blared.

"Looks like that's my cue to leave." You announced to Natasha and Tony. " Sorry to cut our reunion short Talia."

Natasha stepped forward, blinking out of her shock. "(Y/N) wait-!" She began.

"Don't worry, I think I'll be staying a little bit longer in New York. We'll see each other soon my love." You promised, picking up one of the fallen agent's guns and shooting out the lights until you were enveloped in pitch darkness. Then, before the backup agents could arrive, you melted away into the shadows.

///

You emerged from a dark alleyway in some shifty part of the Bronx. Pulling out your phone, you replied to Matt, your associate, declining the new job he had sent over, informing him that you would be taking a vacation for a while.

Seeing Natasha had reminded you of how much you actually missed her, and you didn't want to just leave New York yet, not when you barely had the chance to catch up with your lover.

But first, you had a snitch to catch. Someone had tipped off SHIELD about you. Someone who knew you about your power at that. You couldn't let someone so dangerous live.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Powers of Reader [Will be updated as more information is learned about Reader]

-Ability to set fear in opponents

-Ability to melt into shadows (teleportation like: goes into one shadow, pops up somewhere else)

-Magic flames that kill people(?) and knocks them out(?)

-Major simp for Natasha (special skill)

[spooky-z]

Bombshell AU

The Bombshell Dupain-Cheng plot that shouldn't exist. But I have no chill, so...

Long post!

Marinette appears totally different in Paris, after 3 months gone and everyone is shocked.

We have seen all of this in the one-shot/prequel (HERE), so we’re understood so far.

But what happens to make this drastic change in Marinette's look?

Well, let's go back to when Fu makes Mari a guardian for good and loses the memories of the miraculous, in addition to finally meeting his love.

And here the canon dies. RIP

(Going to the current plot.)

Mari is losing her shit, having lost the only adult person who supported her in heroin life and who helped (poorly) in the most complicated situations.

So here it is: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 13, collège student, part-time heroine, aspiring designer, class representative and now guardian of very powerful magical jewels.

AH! And a nanny. We can't forget that!

The poor girl doesn't have a minute's peace in this house.

She won't even talk about ugh, Lila, because at that moment the Italian was just a fly on the pile of garbage she had to deal with.

So, she turns to the only possible person in this situation, even though she is afraid of previous behavior.

Chat Noir. Yeee

And she's like, "chat, we need to talk." And he: “omg she will confess”

In the end Ladybug tears up Chat Noir and manages to make the hero understand her side, promising to help.

Marinette spends a few months testing the cat, to see if he slips, but to her relief (because she loved that kitty, even if she didn't say it) he remains steadfast.

They reveal the identities and awkward moment omg

Adrien may have screamed a little like a fan with his idol

Mari may have passed out.

(not that any of them will confess that)

They have a heart for a heart.

Mari no longer in love with Adrien and Adrien trying to overcome Ladybug at that point.

When hawkbeetch decides to attack harder, the two agree that they needed help permanently.

Alya was cut off as soon as the idea was put on the table.

The first ones chosen are Alix, Luka and Kagami

Over time Max and Kim also came back

There was uncertainty in choosing who had been chosen before, but magic was able to supply the uncertainties, since when transformed they were no longer the unmasked heroes

The situation with Lila and because of Alya, Nino is also cut.

So, Chloe makes a 160, apologizes to Marinette looking really sorry and wanting to change

Félix also returns to study at Dupont, after Adrien complains to him about Gabriel forcing Lila into the teenager

With that, the team closes on 9 permanent heroes, but that not all of them always appeared in the fights.

They manage to deal with akumas-hawkdude for a while, but when mayura appears more and more in fights things get worse

It was Max's idea to contact JL for help and so they get batfamily's attention

Batman sends Robin and Red Robin to help closely, while the rest were helping from Gotham

There were some disagreements between Ladybug and Robin, since the vigilante was very... annoying. Not to say worse, she had no patience to put up with the boy's arrogant ass.

As for Red Robin, everyone loved him.

(Max may have had some personal discoveries after meeting the guy)

Time passed, Robin became Reynard

And even with the help of the batboys, finding out who the mothman was became increasingly frustrating.

Everyone came to the conclusion that the magic was much greater in camouflage than they thought before

In that they reach half of the Lycée without any advantage over the villain

Alix and Chloe dating since 14

Marinette and Luka started dating when the girl turned 15, Damian joining the relationship a few months later after pining (of the three)

Félix and Kagami only started to see themselves as something more than friends after they turned 16

Kim and Max being the youngest to start dating, at 13

Adrien only met Jon after identities were shared between the team, he was 16 years old

The identities being shared were entirely accidental. All of them having used their powers and without time to hide from each other, the transformations fell

Finding out who the batfamily was, was easy after that.

Things continued at an impasse until Marinette found Diana Prince on one of the galas in Gotham.

And worlds were opened for the little guardian.

"Oh." The woman murmured; her eyes fixed on Marinette.

Bruce had introduced them both after Diana showed curiosity about the two people with Damian.

"Guardian."

Marinette released the woman's hand as if she had been shocked. Panic running through her veins. Damian and Luka stood up alert.

"What- No. My name is Marinette." She replied nervously.

Diana noticed the girl's behavior, as well as that of the other two boys, and relaxed her posture in a more friendly one.

“My apologies, Marinette. I didn't mean to scare you like that.” The woman took the girl's hand again in hers. A kind smile on her face. "I could feel the power in you since my mother was the former bearer of the goddess Tikki."

The three teenagers gasped in surprise.

"Rreally?" Marinette sighed; her eyes wide.

Diana laughed softly, finding the girl cute. "Yes." But the smile gave way to a confused expression. "But you shouldn't be surprised, since you're the guardian."

"Ah..." Marinette was suddenly shy. The eyes across the room, except for the woman. “I didn't get to finish my training. Master F- the former guardian was obliged to pass on his duty before training me.”

Diana's face contorted in regret before her eyes lit up with an idea. A wonderful one.

"Marinette, I believe I have the perfect solution for this."

And the girl felt her heart race with hope.

With that, Diana offered training to her and the other miraculous heroines in Themyscira and Mari accepted after talking to her friends.

Arthur Curry, at Diana's request, also appeared offering training for the boys and a plan was formed.

They just needed a little more luck... or money.

Bruce, managed to put Dupont as a priority on the Parisian government's reform list

And with more help, Zatanna agreed to stay in Paris to stop Hawkmoth from attacking.

I'm not going to explain this part much here because I'm writing a fanfiction about it. So let's go to some headcanons about this plot.

In this AU I will be working with the hypothesis that the miraculous have limitations, because the heroes have not yet matured. Whether in age or mentality. They are still "children".

That wielding jewelry has side effects like: slow aging. Too slow. Which ends up affecting teenagers, since most were children/pre-teens when they became heroes.

Kwamis are, in fact, the first gods in the world. They are the origin of the universe.

Each miraculous has a true owner in each generation.

Jewelry, kwami and suits can change forms according to the holder. For example: if Plagg wants to, he can take the form of a normal black cat.

In the case of jewelry, I had this idea because of the monkey's miraculous. It is impossible to use without drawing attention, so here the jewels can change shape at any time. If the holder wants to.

As soon as a true holder wields the jewel, when they are in their majority, the miraculous mark is "tattooed" on the person's skin. (Between the shoulder blades, being more specific). I did a shitty editing on my cell phone. HERE.

If a person who is not a rightful holder should use the miraculous, magic corrupts the person as a form of protection.

Alya, Nathalie, Gabriel and Emilie are examples of this.

There is only one exception to this rule: if the Guardian allows use.

Speaking of Guardian, here, they (Mari) have powers over the box and jewelry.

Tag? let me know in this post.

@saays-bitch​ @xxmdsxx​ @nicknnie​ @iamablinkmarvelarmy​