#Trade Winds verse

[coldteaxspilledink]

The Mermaid & The Albatross

Trade Winds Verse: Bruce Miller x Colleen Murphy

"B...Bruce! Pull. Up! I SEE TREES! We almost HIT THAT EAGLE!"

Was all he heard from his terrified flight companion turned in flight entertainment. Her long dark hair was spilling down from it's plastic hair clip and her aviators were sliding down her nose as her hands waved wildly at the clear blue sky that matched her eyes.  He couldn't help but grin a slow easy grin at her. She was truly his fish out of water today. 

"Man...you're a mermaid, huh?"

"If I'm a mermaid then you're an albatross!"

The belly of the plane was mere inches from the pristine tree line as they roared along with the flight path of the local geese. He had to admit her hometown was a pretty little place. Pulling up they had a better view of some cozy houses along the coastline. In fact they buzzed Minnie's place as they spotted her in the back yard having a cigarette. He decided to show off a smidge and loop a hello before continuing on. The neighbor's grandson now things the Murphy house is the coolest place on earth.

He'd been born in Chicago, moved around to Indiana as a kid and then joined up to the Army on his 18th birthday. He'd been in Florida ever since after he'd come home from his three tours. The woman to his right was about ten years his junior, an internationally licensed boat captain named Mary Colleen Murphy, or Col as she preferred to be called. Currently marveling at the view her face lit up like a kid at Christmas.  He could count the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the fact that her eyes were now tinged a little spring green meant she's calmed down enough to enjoy herself. The fact that they could simply pack a bag and fly out to her hometown from their place in the Hatcher Keys blew her mind. To Bruce it was just another two hour flight that went smoothly. 

"I can deal with being a bird. Here's the part you hate..."

He figured ample warning would help settle her stomach. She knew that the most critical time was during take off and landing, it still didn't help her body to know not to gag at an angle normally not achieved. 

"I doubt I'll ever get my license. I've a feeling that's not looked kindly on during the final exam?"

Her dry reassurance to him that she was fine. They were traveling light this time, just some luggage and gifts for the family and friends she had to introduce him to. There had been talk to merging her mother's bar, The Gull's Nest and their place The Trade Winds but they had yet to put anything into writing. Minnie was setting to retire and move closer to her own mother in Miami so it only made sense to keep it in the family...unless Harvey Starling, Col's god father wanted first dibs at a turn key operation. Bruce knew Colleen would gladly do that over taking it over. Even though she lived down south nearly 1500 miles away she still cared about the town where she'd grown up. 

"BVY tower, N2789 5 miles west, inbound for landing."

The crackle of the controller picking up filled his head. Whoever it was had a hell of a head cold. 

"N2789 you're clear for landing. Welcome to Massachusetts."

"I can't just take it from them, Bruce. The Gull's Nest was built by my great grandfather when the town was founded. Second on the waterfront besides the old butcher and green grocer. Did you know the Starling's used to own that? That's how far back our families go...oh my god Harvey! Hel's florist shop is right there...perfect!"

He'd heard her last night as she'd packed for them both. He'd admitted to her that he didn't have a clue about packing for cold weather anymore so she had delighted in walking him through her process and parts of her family's backstory came out as she carefully rolled his shirts and pants up. She'd learned the military packing style. Bulky sweaters went on top to act as a cushion if you were bringing back souvenirs, or in Col's case, if you were bringing a stash of homegrown herb to share with your mother and best friends. Deep down his wife really was a pirate, even if she didn't realize it. 

"Who taught you how to pack?"

"Chief Petty Officer James Murphy Sr."

Bruce caught a glimpse of a pirate smile ghost across his companion's face. All he could picture for a moment was his wife in a plumed buccaneers hat with a dainty silver dagger between her teeth. Perhaps he'd just given himself a new tattoo idea. 

"He was a Navy man...then he came home became a cop and met my mom."

"All American boy."

"Guess you could say that. My mother was almost a nun until she met him."

"Damn beats Mel and Rita's story. She was a barmaid and he was bootlegger."

"Two sides of the same coin, Miller."

The tidy landing strip was fast approaching as the landing gear came out. Wheels touched down and all was well. Another one down in the flight logs. 

In their combined down time from the bar they did flight and boat charters together under the Trade Wind Tours name for the tourists. They weren't above doing a favor to a friend or two with flying in goods. Colleen was going to be needed if his buddy Whit ever gave up his wings. She had also expressed an interest in doing angel flights for sick and needy children. 

"You'd be surprised. My first time I puked out of a bird just straight up didn't care about anything except not wearing it. Bulls eye on an enemy from above. I can still see his face...I still feel bad about that."

"You were under heavy fire in a military war plane. Vastly different as I'm not open and exposed."

Reaching out to pat his jean clad thigh she sighed. 

"You'd be amazed at people can forgive. I'm sure you were the least of his worries back then. You both just wanted to get home."

He'd forgotten she'd been a nurse and just how deeply her compassion ran. He smirked and patted her back as they pulled upwards 

"If it makes you feel better I get sea sick."

A deep chortle sounded in his head that warmed him. 

"Always keep above deck where you can see the horizon and get fresh air or keep to the middle of the boat."

He heard the snicking flick of her lighter.

"You forget we're still in an airspace?"

"Nope. But I figured out my window. Until they come out with a flameless option I'm sticking with hand rolls. Helps my stomach and in all honesty I think you may need some when we're on solid ground. You're wide eyed and your eyebrows are touching your hairline. I love you, Minnie loves you...my Grandmother loves you, Harvey and Helene are going to adore you too."

Directing towards the hangar Bruce shook his head. 

"The last thing I need to do is meet the town chief of police smelling like your home grown, Col."

Wide innocent eyes met his as she held out the joint with a smile. Her next sentence made his face fall momentarily.

"But he's my god father...and I know the perfect spot."

Nimble tanned hands rolled two more joints as they were directed into the proper hangar by the ground crew, a rather an elderly portly white haired fellow wearing safety orange muffs with 'Willy' stitched into his green coveralls. Waving his sticks he looked almost like a Yankee blue collar ballerina.  A thankful two finger wave and they had some privacy.  

"Thanks Willy!"

Colleen called as she hopped out earning a Roebucker smile her way, Willy's teeth matched his shocking white hair before he hobbled back into the warmth of the hangar office. Col had grabbed her small shoulder bag and her flash light before taking off out of sight. Giving him a bird whistle he saw her crook her finger from inside what looked like a solid tree line. 

"Join me on a side quest brave traveller."

Snow crunched under their feet as he followed Colleen. She evidently knew exactly where they were going to end up. A twisting path lead to a rough stone walking path the lead to a rumbling sound. 

"Watch your step here..."

Her left hand reached out to touch a large pine tree with 'HS + JL' carved into the bark and it made him smile to see her reconnect with a tangible object from her past. The initials were newly carved into the bark, especially the JL. From the look on Col's face HS finally found a love well deserved. 

"Where...what...wow."

Looming overhead was a weather beaten lighthouse sitting at the mouth of the harbor. It's light cutting through the fog that was setting in. Between the two of them they'd planned the timing perfectly.  

"This is Tortoise Harbor light...or Turtle Point. I've mentioned it a few times in my stories of home but well...this used to be our secret spot. Me and Helene Starling. A little birdie told me that there's still heat in it."

Knocking the snow from their boots they ventured into and up to the top of the ancient lighthouse on the point. Outside the winds had picked up and the sound of rain was almost indistinguishable against the sound of the surf hitting the rocky coastline. 

"We used to come up here all the time watching for our Dads when they sailed away or came back in. I guess it was our clubhouse...in some way it still is."

The very top held a battered fold out couch upholstered in a rather interesting shade of pea soup green and outfitted with numerous blankets and throw pillows. A handmade three tier shelf held ancient paperbacks along with a wire spool coffee table with bar ashtray advertising 'the regal taste of Reinhardt beer'. tucked to the left hand side by the railing away from the light. The floor below still held a snug little alcove with a lamp and a few layered feather beds for the nights that were especially tough going home. 

"We used to have a working kitchen and bathroom downstairs but that's been boarded up since we were in our 20's. That's the past though."

Settling herself down onto the couch she sighed before inviting him to sit down as she lit the joint. He'd have wondered what she looked like young and carefree and unscarred but she seemed to bloom before him. Healed and restored. The smell of her homegrown hit him right between the eyes and he smiled as curled in next to him. The storm raging outside as they flew higher together allowing their inner teenagers to bond for the first time.

#Trade Winds verse#Colleen Murphy x Bruce Miller#The Mermaid & The Albatross

[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Story #2

I remember asking my mom once, if her dad had gotten ornerier as he'd gotten old. I'd heard about that happening, and it would've made sense for him. He was already the orneriest old cuss I'd ever met. Couldn't even imagine him being grumpier than he was.

Instead of answering the question directly, she told me about what it was like going to church with him as a kid. Their church was a small Mormon ward out in the sticks of Colorado, and he served as their Bishop - mostly by virtue of being the only one willing to do that much unpaid work. He was also the ward pianist. He actually liked playing piano, and he liked having an audience, so it was more or less understood that he was willing to be the bishop in exchange for being the pianist. 

Which could've been a good trade, but there were a few problems.

The first problem was that Grandpa Dale played every song at about triple speed. He was a deeply impatient person, and that extended to how he played music. The second problem was that he had a bad habit of cursing under his breath. That would've been a scandalous  enough habit for a Mormon bishop, but was made much worse (and also much funnier)  by him being pretty damn deaf. So what he thought of as "quiet" cursing under his breath was more of just a verse hoarse way of yelling. I only visited him for a week or two every summer, and I still learned most of my bad words from him. 

So every Sunday would start with a quiet prayer, and then Bishop Grandpa Dale would go to the piano, sit down, and play the nightcore version of Praise to the Man. He would occasionally play other hymns, but he really, really liked that one. This would continue until he hit a wrong note, which was basically inevitable because his music philosophy was that if he could play a song flawlessly, it was time to play it faster. So he'd play until he hit that wrong note, at which point he would scream-whisper SHIIIIIT and, because he did not actually read music so much as memorize it, the only way he'd be able to get his rhythm back was by going back to the start. 

If it was a good Sunday, he could get it in two tries. Some Sundays took as many as five. 

I learned two things about Grandpa Dale from this story. The first was that he could play piano. I'd never actually seen him do that before. Still haven't, come to think of it. Second was that the man that I visited once a year, who always seemed on the verge of exploding, who scared the absolute dickens out of me, was actually the chilled out version of the man my mom grew up with.

And it helped knowing that, actually. I'm actually a pretty anxious person, and my mom is, also, a pretty anxious person, and as a teenager we'd sometimes get in these doom loops where we'd wind each other up until our springs cracked. She'd be worried about me growing up to be happy, and I'd be worried about letting her down, and my worrying would make me unhappy, and my unhappiness would make her unhappy, and we'd just kind of dissolve into these anxieties like cotton candy in the sea and become totally unbearable to be around for a bit. Then my dad would sit us both down and very politely tell us that we were being crazy. He had this quote how being sad that someone else is sad that you're sad is the emotional equivalent of being a Klein flask and that at some point you have to just say I am allowed one (1) single layer of emotional recursion, at most, and ideally zero. 

And it was always kind of embarrassing and silly, but when I was tempted to be more upset with my mom about it, I could remember the piano story and go: Sheesh. She has more of a right to be anxious that I do. For me it's really just genetics, but she grew up with the Cactus-Killing Gopher-Smasher. A whole 18 years of that. I spent two weeks every summer with that guy, and I love him, but I always came home feeling like I'd survived something. She's a trooper.

[merlucide]

BLLK BOYS X SHORT READER!

notes: ayeeee self indulgent this time 🥹 short girlies wya [requested!]

characters: Isagi, Nagi, Rin, Shidou

warnings: cursing, cringe, not proofread

ISAGI YOICHI

He’s not the type to openly say smth about another’s appearance, but he thinks your shortness is so freaking cute!! 🥹

Doesn’t comment on your height like ever— he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries or make you feel uncomfortable!!

Isagi isn’t the tallest guy around— but he isn’t short!!! so he feels extra manly when you need his help grabbing things from the top shelf hehe

he loves how easy it is just to ‘mwah! mwah!’ On your forehead :)

if anyone wants to talk shit about you being funsized they’ll have a personal meeting with Isagi Yoichi’s filthy mouth

Which ofc no one will bc you’re to much of a cutie to be shat on 😌 and you got slursagi and Writer-Kira on your back, WE GOT YOU COVERED BOO 🗣️🗣️

Thinks that ?? Cus you’re short ?? You’re fragile ??

which Yoichi honey- 😭 thanks

hes always holding your hands anyways but will YANK you closer to him when he thinks your going to fall/hit smth

and while you appreciate the loving gesture— ITS A BIT EXCESSIVE NO?

’Yoichi I’m not going to fall over in the wind y’know’

’I mean you did that one time tho?— But anyways!!’

hes a big cutie ugh

NAGI SEISHIRO

hes so tall anyways everybody is short af to him lmao 😭 so when you first meet him he just kinda stares at you

’oh, they’re rlly rlly small, pocket size? yeah that makes sense’ is his thought process LMAOO

he doesn’t poke fun at your height to much— oh who am I kidding yes he freakin does

first thing bro said to you was ‘wow, you’re so little’

If your ignoring him bc you’re on your phone/wtv he will take it and hold it above his head and only give it back when you give him attention and affection (sounds like a good trade tbh)

When he hugs you it looks like a big-overgrown baby hugging its stuffed animal HA

Lmao when you cant reach smth he just picks you up under your arms and lets you grab it yourself 😭

Just kinda like- flooooooaaaaaaat up 😭🙏

okay back to the stuff animal thing- when yall snuggle n cuddle that’s how it is 😭 just sorta, traps you 😭

Or he just plops on top of you. No matter the position, you will be trapped

Temple kisser!!!! :3

RIN ITOSHI

Doesn’t pay much attention to your height, he don’t gaf

— Is the mindset he had until you couldn’t find your shoes and just borrowed Rins.

But Rins feet and humongous

and your feet as small af

so you just looked like a clown LMAO

’Y/n have you seen my—‘

He actually laughed, it was an ugly wheeze, which lasted about 5 seconds before asked you ‘wtf are you doing’

He realized just how freaking smaller than him you were!!

He thought it was so cuuuuuteee (not that he’d ever admit that smh)

now feels the need to protect you from the dangers of the world LMAO (omega verse type shit 🗣️)

when Rins feeling pissy he’ll put all— ALL of your things in places you can’t reach

for two reasons:

1. He’s petty

2. You’ll have to ask for him help

A perfect plan tbh

which crumbles when you screech over the chair just to get your pants

*cue glaring rin*

SHIDOU RYUSEI

is the biggest shit out of all of these hoes

Like bro checks ALL OF THE BOXES

1) Puts stuff in top shelf. 2) Teases you RELENTLESSLY. 3) Tackles you onto the bed with his body. 4) will go ham on anyone who teases you

shidou 🤤

Alwqys offers to give you piggy-back rides!

even if you don’t want it he’s like, already crouched down signaling his hands like ‘hurry up—get on’

Like he will just *pick* you up 😭 when the feels like it

Going to the store? Might as well take Y/N on his back! Standing in line? Y/N on his shoulders! Walking around the house? Y/N is already thrown over his shoulder! The list goes on you could imagine

Thinks you’re so cute being smaller than him

And When you try to show him how ‘not cute you are’ he just smiles and pinches your cheeks like ‘aweeeee! Sure ya aren’t!’

He loves, loves, loves, LOVES, when you have to get on your tippy toes to kiss him

HES JUST LIKE ‘🤭+😏+😈’

’You struggling there sweets?’ ;} like YES. Now nvm😒

then picks you up and forces you to wrap you legs around him and give him that kiss he deserves 😌

ALSO HE LOVES SPINNING YOU AROUND RAAAAAAAA

not proofread, rushed af, I’m tired BUT I WAS HAPPY I GOT AN ASK SO WE PUSH THROUGH!! 🥹 thanks for reading!!!!

made December 19th 2024

[frut1ger-aero]

medieval inspired purecacao au

had a brainwave while listening to cocteau twins and golden brown (someone ban me from writing aus)

In synchrony with the natural orchestra of the woods, were the pants of a man upon his steed, cantering through the undergrowth. He longed to strip off his steel and chainmail armour and bask in the dappled sunlight, but on the orders of the Vanillian King, he was to remain in the attire of a man his status—a knight. A higher ranking knight, as displayed by his sleek black horse, but a knight nevertheless, who had to bend to the orders of the king.

As of now, he was barely a few yards from his station, so he gently reined his horse in and they slowed to a trot. His sheathed sword clunked uncomfortably, and the urge to discard it amongst the leaves was profound. However, he stayed loyal to his orders and continued on through the woods, where spring was primitive and native creatures bounded out of the way. Insects clicked and clacked, and with the ever-present hum of bees, the area seemed to be pulsing with nature.

Though he preferred the harsh bitter of winter, with its swirling snowstorms and biting winds, watching summer unfold was undeniably beautiful.

He was beginning to sweat, however, and the distressed whinnies of the animal beneath him told him that she too, was suffering.

They had both hailed from lands where the cold was consistent, never divided into seasons like the Vanilla Kingdom was. The Dark Cacao Kingdom endured blizzards and high amounts of snow regularly. In fact, if it was warm, that would become an issue discussed at the Citadel.

It was foolish, but he found himself missing his home. He rarely gave himself time to pine, yet he could not stop himself from reminiscing. Four years ago, due to a political disagreement, he and four other of the best Cacaoian warriors were sent over to the Vanilla Kingdom to compensate for whatever the Vanilla King was angry about. A lowly knight like him would never be versed in political affairs, only a pawn to be traded.

He had seen and endured many gruelling summers, and revelled in winters that almost felt like home, but nothing could ever top the feeling of satisfaction that returning home would bring.

“Dark Cacao!” an anonymous voice rang out. He nearly jumped off his horse when he heard it.

Who had followed him into the woods? A messenger, probably. As was the custom, he bowed his head and waited for the person to catch up to him.

“Dark Cacao, it’s me,” the voice called, even louder this time.

Yielding, Dark Cacao turned around, and through the slits of his helmet, saw who was approaching him.

Instantly, he felt calmer as he watched the Vanilla prince, Pure Vanilla hurry over to him, casting wary glances around.

“What are you doing here? Where is your attendant?”

It was No secret that the prince was visually impaired, and due to this, he always had an assistant by his side. For some reason, he always found a way to escape them and tail Dark Cacao.

“I wanted to see you,” Pure Vanilla said, like it was perfectly acceptable to evade the person who was employed to assist his every move. “I overheard Crunchy Chip at the gate discussing where you were put to guard.”

“You have to get back,” he replied, looking around in a paranoid manner. It was only them in the woods, but he shuddered at the thought of the consequences if they were caught.

“I don’t want to. I missed you. Can’t you take your armour off for once?” Pure Vanilla muttered, in the petulant manner only a pampered prince could master.

“Absolutely not,” he refused.

“Why,” Pure Vanilla whined.

“Just because you’re a prince, that doesn’t mean you always get what you want. How am I supposed to explain you being here?” From atop his horse, Dark Cacao could see the way Pure Vanilla shifted at that.

“I’ll tell them the truth—that I ran off.”

“You’ll get into trouble and your father will monitor you even more closely.”

“I don’t care. Will you take your armour off now?” Pure Vanilla pleaded.

In truth, Dark Cacao deeply wanted to. It had been so long since he had embraced his lover without the weight of his armour. But he still held fear of the authorities.

“I promise you can put it back on when I’m done.”

“That sounds lewd.”

Pure Vanilla snorted in a very unprince-like manner. “It does, but you know you want to.”

He was right, actually. Somehow, an aristocrat like him managed to see past the layers of metal and muteness and understood the being that lay beneath awfully well. Pure Vanilla knew of his most raw, vulnerable feelings, and never once treated him as less or mocked him, though technically he was. So, to satiate Pure Vanilla and take advantage of moment of solitude they had, Dark Cacao swung himself off his mount, where he was still taller than Pure Vanilla.

“Fine,” he conceded.

The armour was silent as it hit the woodland floor, and he stripped, piece by piece until he could actually feel a soft breeze washing between the folds of his thin clothing.

“Finally,” cried Pure Vanilla, bouncing on the balls of his feet and landing a kiss to Dark Cacao’s lips.

As he was pulling away, Dark Cacao caught his face in his hands and pressed their lips together in a longer, more urgent kiss. He slipped his arm around Pure Vanilla’s waist, pulling him closer.

“I bet you’re grateful I ran off,” Pure Vanilla murmured into his lips, pushing Dark Cacao’s hair back and sliding a hand onto his cheek.

He pulled back, stroking the area beneath his bi-coloured eyes.

“I’m always happy to see your demanding little face.”

Pure Vanilla hummed, searching Dark Cacao’s face. He lifted a hand, and gently prodded a cut on his jaw.

“Is that new?”

“Probably. It’ll heal.”

“Well of course it will—“

“It might get infected.”

Pure Vanilla fought the urge to smile. “I know, but how do you even get one,” he wondered aloud, pursing his lips in concern.

Dark Cacao uttered something unintelligible in return, and continued to thumb the space underneath his eyes. He was focused, and though it seemed as though he was focused on Pure Vanilla, yet he didn’t register his words.

“Dark Cacao?”

His heavily-lashed eyes fluttered a little, and he sighed, leaning his forehead against Pure Vanilla’s. “I’m sorry my love. Your eyes are simply captivating.”

“Even though they can barely see,” he said bitterly. His voice took on a softer tone. “At least I can see you.”

“Half the time I’m wearing my armour,” Dark Cacao said.

“I can still distinguish you. Something about your demeanour and the way you hold yourself, the way you walk, makes you so much more distinctive. Everyone else fades away into a blur of colours. You really are the only one I have eyes for.”

It was times like these, when Dark Cacao wanted to unravel completely before him.

“I live for you only; I serve you only,” Dark Cacao whispered.

Pure Vanilla ran yet another hand through Dark Cacao’s hair, and pressed down on his broad shoulders, guiding him down towards the floor. He kissed his bare neck, his collarbone, his jaw, littering Dark Cacao with kisses as he gently pushed him to lie on the floor, and moved to lie atop him, sliding his hands beneath Dark Cacao’s head, lifting it to kiss him even more. He responded by wrapping his arms around Pure Vanilla’s back.

“I hate my stupid royale clothing,” he breathed, reaching around to loosen his sash and dispose of it somewhere in the foliage.

“Is there any kind of clothing you actually like,” Dark Cacao teased.

“Probably not. But armour hardly counts as clothing,” Pure Vanilla said, before he dove back into the kiss. This time, Dark Cacao felt his smile when their lips reconnected.

Pure Vanilla was warm, but it was a warmth he tolerated. No, more than tolerated. A warmth he craved, one he would forsake the cold of his homeland for. Strangely, he found it much more comforting than the conditions he normally loved, when it came from Pure Vanilla.

The prince sat back, disentangling himself from his lover, who also sat up, crossing his legs, Pure Vanilla leaned against his shoulder, resting his hand on Dark Cacao’s knee.

Behind them, Dark Cacao’s horse whinnied, flicking her tail.

That was a painful reminder to Dark Cacao: kissing the prince’s sun-soaked lips would not make his duties go away.

As if he could read his mind, Pure Vanilla spoke softly: “I wish I wasn’t a prince, and I wish you weren’t a knight.”

Often, Pure Vanilla would begin to talk of his inner wishes, fanciful dreams of a life they could lead where expectations wore neither of them down, and they could love as freely and as openly as they desired.

Dark Cacao understood those feelings. As a matter of fact, he shared in them a great deal, the desperate wishing that things were different. But he also knew, once he began to dwell on them, they would begin to grow, larger and larger until they consumed him and he would feel nothing else. So he less than encouraged it when Pure Vanilla got like this.

“Pure Vanilla,” Dark Cacao said gently.

“I know. Believe me, I know. But I can’t help wanting a quiet life with you.”

“This is all we have, you know that.”

“But I love you,” he burst out. “I love you so much and I hate that we’re so far apart all the time. I want to sit in sunlit fields with you for as long as I want, kiss you and hold you without a care in the world. Why is it that I have to bend to these ridiculous norms?”

Pure Vanilla turned to Dark Cacao, looking on the verge of tears. His eyes were glossy and he drove his teeth into his bottom lip with all the strength he could muster.

“I can’t even dream in peace. You’re everything to me, yet I can’t even have you, not fully,” he said, his voice cracking and his bottom lip trembling.

“I am always yours, my prince. All of me,” Dark Cacao said quietly. And he lifted Pure Vanilla’s hand from his knee, and kissed it.

A sob escaped him.

Dark Cacao lifted him, setting him down into his lap, whereupon he lay down, curling up and began to weep freely.

Twirling golden hair between his fingers, Dark Cacao stroked Pure Vanilla’s back. If his face was in view, he would have wiped the tears away.

“I wish it were different.”

As he looked down at the sobbing prince, Dark Cacao felt an ache begin to dull his senses, a fog born of love and desire and sorrow descending over him.

Distantly, calls and cries sounded. They were far, but seemed to be getting closer. Dark Cacao came to the realisation that they must be searching for the prince, and were on their way to the post—one he hadn’t even reached—where Dark Cacao should have been stationed, presumably to ask him if he had seen the prince.

“Pure Vanilla,” Dark Cacao urged. He shook his leg gently until Pure Vanilla lifted his head.

“I know it is ironic, but people are coming.”

He sniffed, wiping a hand over his eyes. “It’s not your fault. I’ll tell them you were taking me back, if you let me get on your horse.”

Dark Cacao wasted No time and immediately started pulling his armour back on, not fumbling once in his haste. He was accustomed to this, scrambling in and out of armour, going from a loving, affectionate man to a stoic, silent knight.

Right before he pulled his helmet on, Pure Vanilla stood on his tiptoes and clumsily planted a kiss on Dark Cacao’s lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied. He meant it.

Then, he donned the last part of his armour, and his walls were back up. He mounted his horse, holding out a hand to help Pure Vanilla’s swing up and sit in front of him.

Having had its reins snapped, the horse sped into a gallop, carrying them through the forest.

Pure Vanilla leaned against Dark Cacao’s firm, armoured frame. To him, he was still the beautiful man he had kissed not even two minutes before.

He held onto that thought. The thought that, though he was forced to hide behind welded steel and metal all the time, Pure Vanilla knew what lay within.

And oh, how he cherished it.

[popatochisssp]

Wait what do you mean carmen and vi can't shortcut this is news to me— :0c

Is it because they haven't known they could do it or it's cause their souls got tampered to hell and back that they cant do it anymore?

The missing piece in this one is actually Gaster!

In (nearly) every other universe, Gaster ceases to exist, scattering everything he ever was or could be like dust in the wind, into the Void.

Which puts the things (and people) he left behind in an odd position of 'not supposed to exist.' But they do, and as load-bearing elements of the world--the CORE, Sans, Papyrus--they must continue to exist, even though the monster that made them is gone, both proactively and retroactively.

The universe abhors a vacuum.

So does the Void.

When Gaster ceased to exist, it left one such vacuum and the Void flowed in to fill in the cracks, like a kintsugi vase.

Most people lost memories, or found them altered to simply warp around the empty space Gaster left behind.

The skeleton brothers…discovered some new abilities.

But in the Fruition 'verses, none of that happened!

So Carmine (Underfell Fruition Sans) and Vi (Swapfell Fruition Sans) can't cut through time and space in the blink of an eye, and Tank (Underfell Fruition Papyrus) and Hunter (Swapfell Fruition Papyrus) can't look sideways at the world around them and perceive its building blocks to no-clip right through them.

Don't worry, they're still pretty, they have plenty of other stuff going for them!

Carmine, due to his…adjustments, generates magic at a ridiculous pace, to the point of being able to fire off bone-bullets and blasters seemingly bottomlessly.

He makes so much, in fact, that his extrasensory perception is through the roof and if he tunes into it just right, he can skim surface thoughts right out of peoples' heads--which you'd think would be why he seems to be so wholly, near-comically lucky, like he's just operating around the thoughts and intentions he's subconsciously gleaning from the people around him.

But no, that supernatural luck seems to be a separate Boon entirely, gut feelings and weird, off vibes that Just seem to come and go, steering him through and around trouble he'd otherwise walk into without that strange auspice. Eh, he doesn't question it much…

Tank is, of course, extremely strong, with more physical power at his disposal than any other monster he's ever heard of--even stronger than Asgore, and he's a Boss Monster.

His grasp on and control of magic is admittedly much weaker than it should be, but as a trade-off he's entirely immune to damage from intent, which is huge. A hate-filled blow that would dust another monster would only glance off of him, doing only as much damage as the physical power of the strike contains.

Not that he FIGHTs much anymore, but Underground he was an absolute powerhouse, reflective of his nickname. He never once lost an Encounter or let himself (or anyone with him) get hurt, moving through battles like he'd fought them a dozen times before, like he just knew exactly what to do and when. Oddly enough, Frisk had the same way about them, when they eventually fell down… Huh.

Vi, after Gaster's focus shifted to the stronger sibling, actually didn't undergo much Adjustment. He wasn't the central project, only a peripheral asset, so he wasn't much invested in. Still, he was practically born with a keen eye for detail, almost hyperattentive to outliers and discrepancies in data presented to him, making him an excellent analyst.

And even without enhancement, his ability to stealth and slip beneath peoples' notice is impressive, only more and more finely honed over the years. He can cross nearly any room without making a sound, utterly silent, and unless you're already looking for him, you'd never notice him in a crowd--whether it was a crowd of monsters or a crowd of humans.

And naturally, he has the patience of a god, a seemingly limitless ability to sit by and accept even the worst of circumstances quietly while he waits (read: arranges the circumstances) for it to change. Doesn't seem like a super-power at first, and technically isn't, but to actually see it in action, how calmly he can just wait…it's impressive.

By comparison, Hunter is a good bit flashier. He has been enhanced--stronger, faster, more durable, heightened senses and reflexes--nothing shocking for a monster, but certainly more than anyone else of his build and breeding would be capable of without significant training.

He even has a built-in poison resistance, shrugging off toxins that would knock out anyone else and walking away from poisons that could fell a Boss Monster with little more than a headache or a queasy feeling to show for it. Needless to say, even hard drugs and alcohol tend to barely make a dent in him.

But he wouldn't be much of a spy-slash-assassin if he couldn't also be stealthy, so he ended up learning how to suppress his LV. It's not something most monsters in a 'fell verse would even think to bother with--letting other people feel the strength of your magic and your willingness to kill is a great deterrent to being messed with, so why hide it? Why seem weaker than you are and let other monsters think they're stronger than you?

Obvious answer: when that's what you want them to think, so they'll let you get close, and so they won't think twice about being alone with you. :)

[quitealotofsodapop]

Hi! It's me again :3, I don't know (and remember) if anyone has asked this before but I would like to know:

How did OG!MK feel when he found out that SW is his father in another dimension (I feel like Mei would say something like "See? I told you he was your dad" or something)

If it happens before S4, I feel like Mk would be a little jealous of his other self seeing that he doesn't have the problem of not knowing who his biological parents.

(The idea occurred to me when I remembered a tiktok that said MK used any type of editing app to get an idea of ​​what his parents would look like 🥲)

omg if you have that tiktok I'd love a link XD

Think i did do a post like that ages ago, but only with an earlier draft of TMKATI and canon. Now I have like three more verses to torment MK with >:)

When the Canon verse and the other verses collide, the quickest thing the MKs would notice is their appearances.

OG!MK: "Whoa!! These me's are monkey demons!" TMKATI!MK: "And you guys are... human???" SlowBoiled!MK: "Yeah, why wouldn't him- I mean me be?" CenturyEgg!MK: "I don't know about you guys - but my parents are monkey demons. Then again my gūtā [dad's gender neutral older sibling] is human, I think???" JTTWEgg!MK: "My parents are monkey demons! The coolest monkey demons ever I may brag." TMKATI!MK: "Oh no way! My parents are monkey demons too! i have a bunch of adopted siblings though. Does your dad work with Bóbo[dad's older brother] Pigsy too?" CenturyEgg!MK: "No cus Uncle Pigsy and Tang lives in the city. We all live on Flower Fruit Mountain - but we visit as often as possible! Uncle Sandy ferries us across all the time." :3 OG!MK: "Wow!! You two live on the mountain!? What's it like?" JTTWEgg!MK, shrugging: "It's cool." CenturyEgg!MK: "Sometimes feel pressured by my role as Heir to the Stone Throne - but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I really don't like having to visit the Celestial Realm though. The nobles are kinda mean about my dad cus he caused a bunch of havoc a long time ago." The Other MKs: "wut" OG!MK: "Uh... Please explain who your parents are?" CenturyEgg!MK, confused by their confusion: "Sun Wukong the Monkey King, and Liu'er Mihou the Sage of Wind??? I thought you guys were too???" JTTWEgg!MK: "Yeah, mine are too. I thought you guys knew??" SlowBoiled!MK: "No- well kind- it's complicated! Ok!?" TMKATI!MK: "Not me. My parents are normal monkey demons, dude." OG!MK: "Oh my gods the Monkey King *is* our dad in another universe! Mei is never gonna let me forget this!" CenturyEgg!MK: "Well techinically he's my mom too so..." The Other MKs: "lol wat?" JTTWEgg!MK: "lol same."

The different MKs collaborate to tell stories about themselves (and get a solid PSA on Stone Eggs) while their respective Meis are snapping photos with eachother.

The different monkeys watch on nervously. The different monkey kings are sitting politely as their Macaques hiss at eachother from across the room.

OG!SWK: "So uh... did you tell him yet?" Other Monkeys: "Tell him what?" SlowBoiled!SWK: "About him being made by Nuwa, or the fact that we were forced to abandon him?" The CenturyEgg and TMKATI monkeys: "What." TMKATI!SWK, laughing nervously: "What? Oh gods no. I thought you guys meant telling him who we are!" The Other Monkeys: "Wut" CenturyEgg!SWK: "Your MK doesn't know that you guys are... Us?" TMKATI!LEM: "Nah, we've sorta been off-the-grid ever since genius here [thumb-points at his SWK] got me pregnant with our MK." The Stone Egg au SWKs: "Hah!" "Uno reverse card, plums!" Stone Egg LEMs: *all three have varying looks of horror, indignance, and bashfulness* SlowBoiled!LEM: "I said I was sorry!" OG!LEM: "Wait... what do you mean by sorry?" SlowBoiled!LEM, looking uncomfortable: "Cus of our uh... fight under the Mountain, and me not returning to feed him, I sorta caused Wukong's body to create a Stone Egg... and then I sorta died before I found out so..." JTTWEgg!LEM: "Ooof. Glad I learned early then." CenturyEgg!SWK, to his SlowBoiled counterpart: "Oh bummer, you got left with Stone Egg all the way back then? I started up the process willingly after I had to seal away DBK. When was the little guy born?" SlowBoiled!SWK: "Little lady actually. Yuebei was born about six months ago. Our MK was crafted by Nuwa - then again I did raise him the first year until I became too weak to care for him..." *looks sad* TMKATI and CenturyEgg monkeys: "Oh no..." :( "Stone eggs are super dangerous to the people around them. I don't blame you." JTTWEgg!SWK: "Odd. I got an Egg from the mountain too - but mine was born shortly after I completed the Journey. And mine was our MK. Did losing Mihou make the process longer??" OG Monkeys: "What?" "How many of you have MK as your kid!?" (*Cue them having to make a Venn Diagram of Whos' MK is What to Whom*) OG!SWK: "Ok so! Mine and the guy with the super-adorbs baby got our MKs dumped on us." SlowBoiled Monkeys: *proudly showing photos of their Yuebei* OG!LEM: "The me in sweatpants had him cus of a comet /slash/ stone egg soul mishap." TMKATI!LEM: "Oh, my Wukong was still responsible there. He sealed the Harbringer's soul inside me after using a sealing spell. TMKATI!SWK: "I panicked, ok!" OG!SWK, pointing at the remaining universes: "Annnd you two literally birthed him yourselves." CenturyEgg and JttwEgg SWKs: "Yup." "Stone shell and all." OG!SWK: "...is there anything else I'm missing?" The other universes: (*scratching their chins in thought*) SlowBoiled!LEM, slyly: "So are you guys back together yet, or what?" OG Monkeys: "What!?" "As if!"

Laughter just erupts around the room as the canon shadowpeach pairing realises that they're the odd ones out as *not* being together.

Complete and utter chaos reigns when the parent and MK groups reunite, and they recognise some sort of connection...

[sirludox]

please tell me all about your zosan pony verse i love them!

Oh my god it would be an honour! I'll start off by mentioning that the reason I chose Sanji as a pegasus was I see his more flamboyant personality fitting that better and i just could not imagine a horse wielding 3 swords without some sort of help so I tinkered how unicorn magic works slightly with it being more closely related to mental and physical strength rather than just being a sort of cheat code haha! Also it was fun imagining a more brutish unicorn compared to the usual elegance of one! Zoro did in fact lose his horn with his first meeting of Mihawk! I was debating making him lose it when he lost his eye but I felt like him dedicating himself even more to training and meditation to make up for what he's lost fit better with it occurring much earlier on than randomly off screen like his eye. Sanji also witnessing him lose his horn yet still declare his loyalty and never losing a fight again would push Sanji to join the crew since he cant fly Sanji, like I said, can't fly mostly related to a) the deformed genes from the poison and b) his wings were bound down when he was a kid by Judge while he was imprisoned much like how he had the helmet on. While their growth wasn't affected, having no prior training on top of the messed up genes means as much as he can do with "flying" is gliding off of tall places or high up but even then that's limited. His "sky walk" is still done with his legs like in the original, so while he can technically "fly", he can't feel the wind between his wings like he normally should for having wings and so he often enjoys spreading his wings out on windy days to ease the desire of "freedom"! He uses his wings primarily as he would hands now, using them to carry food and dishes out and express emotions with them, and absolutely hates having them constricted (it begins to freak him out slightly). Sanji then learnt to use his legs (mostly his back ones) for fighting from Zeff (whom im still debating lost a leg or a wing) and the rest is history! These two still bicker and are the exact same as they are in the original, just with the bonus addition of them bonding over them missing their core "features" of their kind, a broken horn and useless wings. They never ever bring these aspects up in a way to offend/insult the other, as they know they're both rather sensitive topics, but they both use what they've lost to their advantage and dont let any of it hold them back Some more unique quirks they have now are:

Sanji preens/grooms his feathers a LOT and takes a lot of care with them. These days (20's), he's allowed Zoro to preen him when he can't from injuries, and Zoro is good with it/surprisingly gentle after learning from Kuina

Unicorns usually rub/touch horns gently in a comforting manner between family or extremely close (wink wink) others, and butting heads/clashing is more aggressive (which is why zosan often bump heads when arguing). As a trade off for the preening Sanji will often gently touch his head to Zoro's as thanks, or when he's in a particularly bad spot (be it physically or mentally) as a way to comfort him without words being needed to be said. Sanji doesn't know the more romantic connotations of it <3

Sanji tends to "fluff up" during preening as subconsciously finding it extremely relaxing and pleasing and Zoro pokes fun at him for it a little but not too much to avoid scaring him away

40 year old Zosan here has Sanji much more comfortable asking Zoro for a preen or "demanding for it" and Zoro finds it "so annoying" but does it anyway (theyre grossly in love)

Sanji will tease Zoro for being so "brute" as a unicorn, and Zoro teases Sanji for being a "dumb peacock"

Sorry for so much of a ramble haha they're just so much fun to work with, and included a couple sketches to kind of go along with things and explore other characters! If you (or anyone) has any other questions I'll be happy to answer ❤️ (sorry if some of this doesnt make sense haha)

[resident-quilt]

Shrue’s descent into radicalism and what the Silt Verses says about our world today

(also, regarding the giant poem that the episode titles make) ITS A TUMBLR ESSAY BABYYYYYYYYY

Kill your gods. Starve them out, topple their statues, forsake their comfort— Kill the stories that gave birth to them. Tear away your flesh that bears their marks.  Adjudicator Shrue, Ep. 43

The Silt Verses is a story born of its time, to a 21st century world which is slowly decaying—and everyone in it is doing their part to help it decay just a little bit faster. It speaks of capitalism, of corruption, of power and belief and environmental destruction and the rift between generations. When Charles tells Val he can’t really stand behind the idea of a family (“You wonder about what kind of world we’re bringing children into, y’know?”) I had to pause and gather myself; it’s something we hear from so many Gen Z’ers today.

But then Shrue’s speech came, and it made no sense.

Shrue calls for an end in any form it can be given. They call for the loss of all faith and love and community in the world; they call for us to kill the stories of our history, to kill the figures we believe in and the ones that give us hope. Anything, everything, all we can give to stop the decay and degradation of the world. They demand us to defeat the corrupt system we have built by trading our lives to do so.

If our words and stories sustain them, let us fall silent. If our communities rely on them, let us drift apart and die, lonely, in the polluted wilds amongst the howling winds of long forgotten deities.

It made no sense because TSV, most simplistically, embodies “no ethical consumption under capitalism”—and this solidly did not fit. So I cast about for an answer to what it all meant, because TSV had grown to be more than the “folks, look where capitalism got us” which I thought it to be. And Shrue's “we can’t do anything to escape the system but die” was just too flat a conclusion. 

Then I fell upon the poem compiled from each episode’s title.

It begins with the start of humanity: a story of things that have happened, things people have believed, things which have roamed the land from then til now. 

Let me speak first of revelations, and next of dark deceit. Then I’ll speak of champions, of lovers, gods and beasts.

And so the poem continues in a description of this story, until it eventually twists to become entirely self-destructive around Chapters 18-24. It's a reference to how everything in the TSV universe seems to eat itself: their system of gods, sacrifices, even the characters themselves.

If I could trace with bloodless fingers, if my hands could shape the flow, I’d bear this song to the precipice and rend us both to dust below.  We’d both go plunging downwards, one final fall from grace— I’d howl, I’d scream, in victory, and we’d be gone without a trace. 

At Chapter 25, we get a respite from the story. We get a short poetic break which concludes that yes, we’re doomed to die—but we continue as we are despite it, and write our story even if it’ll be lost in the end. It’s a classic conclusion that a lot of literature and poetry fall to, because it’s so very human. It’s a cliche, and it’s a cliche for a reason. 

But we’ll never be rid of each other, my song, my sorrow, and I,  So I’ll bear it trembling onwards: to drift on, to dream, to die.

With that, the poem progresses forward until it starts addressing our end and what happens when we face that. It screams of last-ditch efforts keep on believing, even as we plunge down and down and the world just gets worse and worse. Shrue’s speech takes place in “One Last Song of Revelations” (the title is so fitting!), where they vocalize their realization that their pacifist attitude isn’t doing shit to change anything. 

But when they switch towards radicalism because it’s, evidently, the only way anything will ever get done—the only way anything will get the exposure to maybe make an impact—they speak of the destruction of society as a whole. Not the eradication of capitalism, nor the installation of kinder gods, nor the lowering of sacrifice ceilings. They speak of true destruction. Utter destruction.

Shrue’s speech isn’t some call to action, nor does it embody any concrete ideology which the writers are trying to convey. It’s just an expression of desperation. Nothing is working; no one is listening. 

What this poem sounds like is a story of how our world goes. It's its birth, its self-destruction, its philosophical revelations, its finale.

When we began following Carpenter and Faulkner in the reeds of the White Gull River, we were consuming a commentary on capitalism. Now, it’s more. It’s a commentary, yes, but it’s not only that—it’s an exploration. The Silt Verses is a tragic exploration of our world as it connects to theirs, of how we’ve been driven so far and been corrupted so deeply that only radicalism makes a difference because only radicalism is what gets the notice and attention to spark moderate change. And that same radicalism is going to destroy the society we have left.

But it’s all the same in the end, because society's collapse was going to happen anyways. So at least someone had it in them to fight for something.

GAHHHH I LOVE THIS SHOW

[nosenipped]

⁎   ݁  ུ    ┈┈   🏰 〝 REGAL .ᐟ JACK.

＊ ノ　thematics﹕ your body becoming your home, hearts of gold, breaking prophecies, the anatomy of melancholy, grief deep—embedded.

　౿ i * blossom of snow, background. ꫂ ၴႅၴ

▸ 　prince jack's kingdom had flourished once﹔ in what we've called the golden age, where the royal family and their subjects were close knitted and trades would come to ﹠ fro from all outlets of the world.

▸ 　this would be when jack was still really young, but he was noticed as the kingdom's crown prince. most notions of the golden age could only be experienced through tapestries and stories from those who lived through it.

▸ 　ofc happiness doesn't last long because i enjoy making my muses suffer, their kingdom's general at the time﹔ kozomotis pitchiner had been infected with some sort of dark force while capturing magic users that were trying to tarnish the peace. ( parallel to what we'd call the fearlings in canon. )

▸ 　war was waged within castle walls and kozomotis had fully succumbed to dark magic, he cursed the entire kingdom before being sealed away within the castle's vault. kozomotis pitchiner would be later known as pitch black.

▸ 　the curse would be as followed﹔ let this kingdom's throne never know a ruler's reign, nor a sovereign's claim. all those who seek the crown, shall perish in flames.

▸ 　to protect their people from this evil, and to keep the peace, the royal family shifted themselves up onto mountains, separating their connections to the village completely.

▸ 　time passes and jack became a brother to two sisters﹔ sarah ﹠ mary. still destined to ascend the throne, but foreign to the curse prophesized years back. even then, the things pitch had promised was starting to shape with their father falling ill and no longer fit to seize the throne.

▸ 　jack, sarah ﹠ mary were well known for sneaking out of castle walls to venture around the village, children shouldn't be stopped from following their curiosities﹗ but soon unearthed the village's resentment for the royals shunning them away when they needed them the most.

▸ 　it became clear that their kingdom had to set foot out of their land to expand their trades once more, jack attempted bargaining this with the admirals and even with the queen but was written off as a naive prince.

▸ 　eventually he decided to take matters into his own hands, and set a course out with his sisters to explore neighboring lands, much against his mother's wishes.

▸ 　all was well for the time being, unfortunately being incredibly sheltered ﹠ cautious, had led them to be prime targets for thievery and scams. ( this becomes important later on. ) but they've always prevailed as a team.

▸ 　one night while the trio were camping out after a long day's work of spreading their trade, jack was eventually led astray by frustration ﹠ bitterness against his family's secrets.

▸ 　hearing how determined he was to uncover truths, his anger had gained the attention of a winter deity. they've promised him to reveal all the truths, at the cost of his life no longer his own.

▸ 　the deal was negotiated ─┄┄ but inaudible, but jack soon rejoined his sisters with snow white hair and blue eyes. he looked afraid, and oddly matured. the siblings then returned back home.

▸ 　jack immediately retreats into his room, which was now colder than the rest of the castle. he's also developed an odd tendency to wander about the mountain's woods, as if following an invisible string in a trance.

　౿ ii * winter's own, headcanons. ꫂ ၴႅၴ

▸ 　often by his lonesome, revered as not much of a talker. quite broody as well, an air of icy indifference. in truth, he'd been listening to the sonnet of winds, and they beckon them forth.

▸ 　his flesh is ice cold, not unlike his canon verse ( ... ) but only for mere moments.

▸ 　faraway, blurred gaze. pupils are often clouded with a fog, he's easily distracted, though he forces smiles for the masses.

▸ 　his kingdom is that of a winter wonderland﹗ the deal made with a deity wounded in safer snowfall﹗ joy brought onto his kingdom through snowflakes.

▸ 　apart from a crown prince's duty, jack's quite fond of hunting ﹠ traveling through trades. ever since the deal he's shown slight aversion to stepping outside the castle walls.

▸ 　great with children, as he should be﹗ whenever he visits the village, he bears gifts / trinkets from the trades.

[itsluckylolita]

Saviour Of Dragons | CHAPTER SIX

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The early morning air of training grounds never got old to Y/n, no matter where she was. She shuffled a wooden sword into place on one of the training mannequins, the Training Master, Corwyn, adjusting the others. Rhaenyra had charged her with overseeing the young princes’ battle training after Jacaerys was caught being too rough with his younger brother. It was not Lucerys’ fault, he was not born to wield a sword as his brother was.

“Nightwolf!” Y/n turned at that, raising her brow although no one could see past her helmet. Jacaerys walked towards her, trailed quickly by his younger brother.

“That is what they have begun to call you, the Nightwolf of Dragonstone who saved the Princess’ life.” Jacaerys grinned, Corwyn falling into place beside Y/n.

“‘Tis an honour to be perceived as such a valiant animal, your highness.” She bowed, hand planted firmly on the hilt of her blade. Jacaerys clapped his hand on her shoulder before turning to Corwyn.

“So, what shall we begin with today?” He asked, and before long the three soon fell into a familiar routine; switching between the two fighting Corwyn, each other, or the training dummies. Y/n stood watch silently, observing the different fighting styles Corwyn had them practice. She had been trained in the sword of every kingdom before her knight-ship. First she trained alongside a sellsword from Dorne, then a knight of the Crownlands, and as she left Kingslanding she was enamored by the techniques of a knight from the Vale. Two knights, one from the Westerlands and one from the Reach, trained her as she made her way up the King’s Road. Within the isle of Dragonstone a simple man of the Riverlands offered his help, and when a man of the Stormlands saw him he stepped in to help as well. Then finally Harlik had taught her all she knew of Northern battle.

Y/n was well versed in all, to be sure, but the swift way the Dornish fought intrigued her the most. They rarely wore steel armor, the sellsword had said, because their enemy never got close enough to land a hit.

“Ser,” Corwyn called, Y/n turning her head in his direction, “would you care to take over?” Y/n nodded, approaching the two boys who huffed out hot breaths of air.

“What style of fighting have you two focused on?” She questioned, flexing her hands within her leather gloves.

“Swords for the most part, sometimes Lucerys likes the bow.” Jacaerys snickered, his younger brother elbowing him in turn.

“No, I mean, what kingdom style. Are you most comfortable with the techniques of the Crownlands or the Reach? The North or the Riverlands?” Y/n trailed off, expecting their answer.

“I suppose the Crownlands?” Lucerys shrugged.

“It is to be expected. I myself favour the Dornish way, would you two like to see a demonstration?” The two boys nodded vigorously, curious to what the Dornish would have to offer them. Y/n shed the majority of her armor, swiftly raising her sword against the two before nodding at them to brandish their weapons. She goaded them to attack, Jacaerys lunging first. He swung his sword with great power but it was no use; Y/n dodged it quickly, hopping behind the prince and knocking him to the ground with the butt of her blade. Lucerys was quieter with his approach, yet still he did not succeed. He took too long holding his sword up to gain momentum in his swing, Y/n using his momentary pause to her advantage. She kicked him backwards, a winded gasp coming from the boy as he fell to the ground.

“W-what the hell was that?” Lucerys coughed, his elder brother helping him up.

“That, my young princes, was the way of the Dornish.” Y/n chuckled, putting away her weapon, “Would you like me to teach you?”

*

The evening was brisk, Y/n stretching out her neck as she read a book before bed. The boys had done a number on her, unrelenting in their pursuit of a new trade. They were quick learners—eager. By the time Y/n was finished with them she was breathing as hard as they were. Fire crackled in the pit across from her, sending sweet smelling smoke her way. It was familiar, the burn of ash in her throat, reminiscent of a place she had been long ago yet no longer had any recollection of. Y/n shut her book and blew out the candle by her bedside, throwing the covers over her face and settling into the night of dreams.

Y/n awoke groggily, looking around her with bleary eyes. She sat underneath a weirwood tree but oddly enough she was not in the North. By the way the sun beat upon her she was south as south could be, lush southern plants encasing the weirwood in every direction.

“You are new.” A girl’s voice spoke, Y/n shutting up straight as her eyes locked onto a young girl sitting across from her on a bench. Within her hands crawled a spider large enough to encase them, the creature moving back and forth between the girls grasp.

“I am new?” Y/n groaned, still getting used to the new setting she was in, no longer asleep in her chambers.

“Yes, you are new to this dream. Why are you here? What have you to tell me?” The girl lifted her periwinkle gaze towards Y/n, silken strands of waved silver hair tied back into a long braid. Now Y/n recognized her, she was a Targaryen; which one she couldn't say.

“I don't know, I suppose nothing. What do you wish to know?” Y/n sighed, rubbing the back of her head.

“Why are you here?” The silver haired girl asked, her eyes diverting back to the spider.

“I am here because this is my dream, and I am asleep, and apparently I fantasize about speaking to spider-loving Targaryen’s.” Y/n chuckled, the girl raising her brow.

“This cannot be your dream, as it is mine.” The girl scoffed.

“I can bet your arse it's my dream, but there’s no use in convincing you, I’ll wake up soon enough and go back to my duties.” Y/n shrugged.

“And so shall I.” The girl grinned, putting down the spider and allowing it to venture back into the gardens.

“What are your duties?” The girl questioned, leaning forward.

“I am going to make sure Rhaenyra Targaryen sits the Iron Throne no matter what.” Y/n’s answer was darker than she meant it to sound, not attempting to lie to this figment of her imagination.

“I see…and how will you do that?” The girl hummed, looking Y/n up and down.

“With my three dragons.” Y/n laughed, hoping to wake up soon as the line of questioning was beginning to get boring.

“You have three dragons? How? You are not a Targaryen.” The girl gasped, shocked that the other girl in front of her could possess such powers.

“The gods just love me.” Y/n jested, closing her eyes once more.

“The gods do not love you, Y/n,” The girl suddenly used her name, “they have faith in you.”

Y/n sighed, keeping her eyes closed. Soon she would wake up and resume her regular life without loopy Targaryen’s to worry about running around in her dreams.

“See you soon, cousin.”

That gave Y/n pause, the girl going to open her eyes. When she did, however, she was met with the canopy of her bed. She had returned to her room, the early morning sun streaming in through her window.

Damn, Y/n cursed, maybe I should care more about my dreams.

[colleenmurphy]

"I dunno about you Helene but when I opted for the all inclusive package I didn't know that meant our husbands were piloting our private plane. Is he still dancing with the captain's hat on?"

Colleen cast a side long look her husband's way and then shook her head laughing before letting out a startled squawk as a tiny denim speedo hit her square between the eyes and landed in her lap. Her cheek flamed a shade of red usually reserved for fire trucks or city hydrants.

"I hope you have a room 'cause you're not rooming with me!"

"Already booked the presidential! I'll leave a key at the desk for you my lovely lady."

A fumbling stumble and then a hushed hurried discussion.

"It's not funny gimme my pants, Joey. Did they pay you to do this?"

A tanned weathered face popped up from behind the cockpit curtain an embarrassed smile spreading as a pitchy voice requested his speedo as well as the remains of his dignity back.

"I seem to be having some technical difficulties in the clothing department so I'm going to have to ask for you to return the Captain's drawers back...please."

From somewhere in the cockpit next to a snickering copilot Joey Larsson saw a sight he never thought he'd have to. His wife's best friend's husband, virtually his brother in law for God's sake was try color. A deep tan from the outdoor work he did, white from the covered bits, and whatever wasn't tan or white was a deep scarlet shade of red.

"Hey Bruce...anyone ever tell you about a full body blush?"

[coldteaxspilledink]

Tied With a Silver Chain: Trade Winds verse

Bruce Miller x Colleen Murphy

"I plan on doing a lot of beach combing and crying at night under the stars smoking a shit ton of weed…and I know now that I'll be ok.."

Not once did she mention Dave. She didn't have to, she already knew how it was going down around their tiny town. He was probably holed up in his mother's basement only going out at night and taking a job over in Annis Island, looking for a place in Maine up near Derry. He's thinking of taking that care taker position for a writer's summer place on Dark Score Lake but he's waiting on a call back. He's regretting every second of it now and she's not. She was done a long time ago and now the excuses had run out. They were two completely different people then when they'd first met, Colleen had carried their relationship the entire time while he had Peter Pan-ned his way through life. She'd let him go about three years ago when she found out about Kelly, the dancer over at the Razzle Dazzle Room over the county line off the highway. Her time away from home became more and more frequent as she traveled for work, slowly building her family's fishing company around the trip state area then over to her family in Ireland. Jimmy would have been proud.

'You gotta tell the folks back home you're ok, Colly. They love you even though he didn't. David Sullivan's getting what he's got coming. Don't you worry. Just call Helene.'

Anchoring herself off in Bermuda nearly a month since she'd stormed out away from home waters. She'd left long detailed notes for each of them, trying her very best to explain why she needed time to herself. She hoped they understood.

Except Sully. Fuck Sully.

Sighing she stared at the empty co captain's seat in the wheel room. Plopping down in the opposite one she lit her hand rolled cigarette and inhaled deeply. Cradling the satellite phone on her shoulder she double checked the windows to make sure she was completely enclosed. She wasn't about to give herself away by the smell to a curious local looking for the good stuff.

"It'll be just me and the boat and water. It's time for a change but I don't want you or your Dad or my mother to worry. I love you Helene and please don't worry, I'll be ok. Pinky promise and this joint's for you."

Leaving a noisy smacking childish kiss into the phone she hung up and cackled to herself. She was pretty much stocked for dry goods and the perishables were in cold storage and deep freeze in the galley. She hadn't had much of an appetite for food at the moment and good grief, she'd opened the her parents liquor cabinet and found a treasure trove of mixers and booze. She was set for a bit to get herself straight. Sully be damned. Gone was the Black Velvet and Diet Coke with a cherry, that was Sully's mother's Doreen's favorite drink. Not hers. Right now called for something different. Ice in a tall glass with light rum and ginger beer with an orange wheel. Out on the deck she sighed as she sat in a fisherman's chair. She was set for deep sea fishing and the poles weren't much these days, especially on an island like this. Perhaps she's offer her bartending services at some local dive for cash. Maybe she'd go back to Florida? She'd had a hell of a good time out there and she'd learned about herself. Something about how open it was had surprised and delighted her.

That bartender was a sweetheart, Bruce.. and you still owe him a fishing trip.

"Whatever I decide to do I'm going to do it and I'm going to be happy."

Somewhere overhead the stars twinkled as a large one streaked across the evening sky. Her favorite shade of red painted the sky, a true sailor's delight as her Dad used to say. The universe was giving her a sign to allow herself some happiness, some peace.

Raising up her drink she cranked the radio and smiled.

'Talk about perfect timing…'

Dave had gifted her a locket on their second Christmas together after they, or rather he, had decided to finally tell other people they were officially together. A Spanish sterling chain with a heavy locket containing a photo of them together posed for her nursing school graduation. He looked smug even back the and she looked like a ghost in her traditional nurse's uniform. All of that changed her and yet here she was, still bobbing along.

And my love is an anchor tied to you Tied with a silver chain

The necklace had begun to feel like an anchor around her neck, but at this moment it had never felt so heavy until right now. She hadn't had the heart to sell it and put that energy back out into the world. It felt unbearable now. Especially after feeling so alive after meeting Bruce. It was time for another change, she'd decided. Yanking off the chain with one good solid pull it gave with a satisfying snap as she hurled it overboard with a sigh. Her neck no longer ached and her shoulders felt loose for the first time in a decade.

"FUCK YOU, SULLY!"

Downing the rest of her drink she curled up below deck and fell asleep to the sound of the ocean lapping against the hull.

[carionto]

It's smaller on the Inside

I find myself going down the Warhammer 40'000 route of scale for this verse I'm apparently building. It's silly, and I like it that way. I don't want to give myself a ceiling for anything I might throw in here :p Continuation of this

__________________________________________

From the outside, the Human ships are astronomically massive. Most, we guessed, doubled as population centers, something akin to a floating colony fleet. With their planet as hostile as they come, we had no doubt most of Humanity had moved into orbit.

"Hmm? Oh, no. The colony ships aren't ready yet. They'll be bigger than even the Dreadnoughts. I'd say the entire Space Force has around 300'000 active members. The Space Teamsters Union has about 8'000 members, and us science ships house just under 2'500 employees. There's maybe a few thousand unlicensed folk out and about, no doubt that number will skyrocket once we get some trade routes going with you guys, or, err... you know. Sorry, just a common expression."

Captain Knoslark explained. This didn't make sense. The Coalition delegates were informed Earth was home to 12,3 billion Humans. By reasonable estimates, their current fleet should easily be able to accommodate at least half that.

Okay, fine. The revelation their reactors were stupidly massive would drop that to around 3,8 billion, but still! What were they using all this room for?

Perplexed, the Captain itemized:

"Well for one, armor plating accounts for between 20 and 45 percent of the total mass, depending on the ship. For that you need sufficiently strong engines, plus reactors to power them, so there goes another 15 to 35 percent of mass and upwards of 50% of space. Military ships tend to go for extra everything minus luxuries, so taking that and all their additional weapon systems, a Dreadnought has maybe 0.7% of its displacement left for personnel."

The delegates just couldn't. What? Why? Nobody is even pretending that Human ships aren't vastly superior to everything in known space. Even halving all their bulk and power, no-one could take them on.

Sheepishly, the Captain answered:

"Well, yeah... I guess I can't disagree since you're saying it yourselves. But what about the unknown space? What if someone comes up with something better? We're doing that constantly. I mean, that's some of the reason why we have the science ships like the one we're on."

"But I can see your point. If safety protocols didn't demand all these winding bulkhead hallways and modular room structure and all that other stuff, something like a standard issue 3km Cruiser could house a crew of 45'000 instead of a maximum of 1'400."

(continued)

[zibahyi]

⊹ VERSE POST. spanning through pre origins, origins, inquisition and veilguard. in this verse, the warden / player character is @greyswarden's ariel surana as this verse is heavily affiliated with him. while i am willing to tweak a few things for any other player characters, ariel remains an important part of this verse.

centuries prior to the existence of shams, in -3200 ancient, people fled from thedas to the eastern deserts and fertile river valleys of a different continent. in the harsh environment, several tribes formed alliances to survive against the darkspawn, roaming bandits and harsh natural conditions. shah - eshandar, the future king of the nation, united them and received the ability to purify corrupted lands and bring forth water from barren deserts. esmandar declared the newly unified territory zarnesha, meaning "land of the golden light." the monarchy was established with him as the first ruler, claiming divine mandate from one of the gods herself. zarnesha survived quietly, unknown to most of thedas for a long time.

it is said that the land was a chaotic and untamed wilderness, fractured by forces and ruled by warring spirits. according to legend, the world was shaped by the struggle between two primordial beings: zurvasha, the spirit of boundless time and varghat, the spirit of endless chaos. to bring balance to this war - ravaged land, zurvasha created the avahran, six divine stewards, each governing a natural element. these stewards forged the foundation of the land. however, varghat's remnants seeped into the earth, creating places of corruption and spawning creatures of darkness that sought to undo the stewards' work. the avahran, unable to deal with varghat's lingering power, imbued their essence into a mortal champion, a visionary leader who would come to be eshandar, whom they tasked with uniting the warring tribes and protecting the land from chaos.

and thus, the area got divided into three main districts:

the golden plains (dasht-e - zar), which were expansive deserts with golden sand dunes. oases dotted throughout serve as hubs for trade and agriculture.

the riverlands (abshahr), which were fertile lands fed by the twin rivers, believed to be gifts from ahryvaun.

the azure mountains (kuh - e - lazvard), which were towering peaks rich in precious gems like lapis lazuli, believed to house spirits and dragons.

one of the most important locations in zarnesha is the temple of the sixfold flame, an ancient site where the rivers met. it is said that this is where eshandar made a sacred pact with the avahran and received what would now be two of the infamous royal objects given to each new generation. the first is the shamshir - e - borhan (the sword of clarity), a blade imbued with mehrathar's light, capable of dispelling corruption. then comes the farvanaar mantle, a shimmering cloak woven with the winds of vayoran, granting eshandar the voice to unite people. it was through eshandar that future warriors were able to fight the darkspawn.

the nation thrives on trade, exporting silk, spices, gems and intricately designed weapons to distant lands, including thedas. the rivers varan and mazand allow for advanced irrigation systems that support agriculture. the caravan serai, an ancient trade route connecting them to other continents, ensures a steady influx of wealth and culture.

IMPORTANT HISTOICAL EVENTS.

zarnesha is founded around -3200 ancient by eshandar the first shahanshah, chosen by the avahran spirits.

early zarnesha thrives, rivers varan and mazand bring life and the people develop a magical system rooted in balance, not domination.

the fade is thin here too, so spirits often cross into the mortal world but are carefully bound and honored through the six pillars of balance.

as tevinter rises and arlathan falls, zarnesha remains distant and self - contained.

early explorers from tevinter vanish mysteriously trying to reach zarnesha, leaving behind myths of a "golden river kingdom" untouched by blood magic.

when the darkspawn rise in thedas, zarnesha feels a ripple in the fade, like a sickness infecting the spirit realm.

darkspawn emerge in zarnesha too, but differently. instead of pouring from the deep roads, they manifest in the mortal world through corrupted spirits. spirit wells become tainted pools. infected spirits, called "varzhan" (meaning "twisted echoes") fuse with beasts, dead things and even rocks, forming grotesque but semi - sentient horrors.

unlike thedas, zarnesha’s darkspawn are not endless armies. they are isolated outbreaks, tied to specific corrupted spirit wells. most of the country remains untouched, but wherever a well falls, the land becomes barren, cursed and dangerous.

the shahanshah at the time creates the order of the verdant spear, warrior - mystics trained to purify wells and destroy varzhan before they spread.

chantry envoys arrive much later, around 1 divine to 5:00 exalted.

zarnesha accepts their traders but bans chantry missionaries.

inquisition agents once tried to make contact during the chaos of corypheus’ uprising, but found a closed, heavily - guarded empire.

around 9:30 dragon, news of the fifth blight reaches zarnesha.

their scholars quickly note the difference: in thedas, darkspawn corrupt and conquer physically. in zarnesha, they corrupt spiritually, poisoning fade touchpoints.

some suspect that if zarnesha’s spirit - wells all fall, the nation would collapse from within, not through invasion, but through spiritual death.

as the veil weakens everywhere in 9:52 dragon, the number of corrupted spirit wells is rising alarmingly.

even strongholds once protected by the verdant spears are now faltering.

civil war is brewing between:

the order of the verdant spear (traditionalists who want to strengthen old spirit pacts) and the glass lotus circle (reformers who seek new magic, even blood magic, to fight the spreading corruption).

now, shahanshah ali rules a land on the brink. his court is split between advisors who believe they must awaken old powers and those who believe they must renew their pact with the avahran. in secret, ali sends a group of people to thedas, hoping to learn about the grey wardens and their knowledge of darkspawn taint before it's too late. this is where shams, a mage here, comes in. two years before the events of origins, at the border of zarnesha, a secretive cult from thedas known as the crimson altar found a hidden passage by shipwreck along the coast. this cult had forsaken the maker, worshiping the ancient dragons and believed that consuming dragon's blood granted them "ascension". during a ceremonial march between two holy cities, they abducted shams under the cover of a sandstorm, spiriting her to a hidden cavern. she is, then, forcefully fed a dragon's blood and is innately transformed.

her magic mutates overnight. upon her return, the zarneshan court was horrified. blood magic was strictly forbidden as it was seen as a violation of natural balance, a path to demonic possession. shams voluntarily submitted herself to isolation in the sacred shrines of avanisha, ancient places used for healing and spiritual testing. there, over months, she mastered her blood magic, reshaping it into something defensive, self - sacrificial and non - corrupting. instead of sacrificing others for power, she sacrificed her own blood to shield soldiers, cleanse wounds or ward off darkspawn taint. she invented spells like blood ward (sacrificing health to create protective barriers) and sanguine bond (linking to allies to absorb their pain). at the age of twenty, she is being trained to rise as the next commander in chief and one final task awaits her: uniting the forces between thedas and her own continent.

ORIGINS. shams arrives in ferelden before the events of the battle of ostagar and can be found in the camp when the player character first meets the wardens. she is there beside duncan, gently encouraging the recruits who are having second thoughts about the joining. she is surprised by ariel's appearance, as they have been friends since a young age, there and after she finds out how he is no longer in the circle, she is found conversing with him about it. in her specific tent, one can meet the forces she brought with her. they entail the verdant spears, the sapphire host (swift scouts and outriders), the azure shields (frontline defenders), the glass lotus circle (spirit healers) and the oathbearers (shams' personal guards). before the joining shams can optionally talk to the player character, giving them the chance to ask questions about zarnesha or get encouragement before facing the joining. regarding her quest, it can be divided into a few categories.

after ostagar’s fall, shams is among the few who survive, but she is wounded and separated from her army. the warden has to find her and reunite the scattered forces, bringing them together to rebuild strength against the blight. this quest will also determine whether shams and her soldiers will fight alongside the warden later or not. after ostagar’s destruction, the player character is traveling with morrigan and alistair. at night, around their second or third campfire, a dream - vision comes. the character sees shams surrounded by a broken battlefield, clutching a bloodstained standard and calling their name. this could be interpreted as a “pull of fate”, suggesting shams might still be alive.

THE FIELDS OF RUIN:

the characters will return to the outskirts of ostagar (now a haunted ruin overrun with darkspawn) and search for markers left by the surviving zarneshan soldiers: sunburst carvings etched into trees and rocks.

eventually, they find a small collapsed shrine, where shams has been hiding and tending to the wounded, injured but alive, her armor battered. when she is found, she is kneeling over a dying soldier, quietly praying.

she insists on standing and fighting, despite her wounds and explains what had happened. many of her forces scattered during the chaos. others tried to protect civilians fleeing the battlefield. a few are trapped or held prisoner by darkspawn or sheltering in abandoned villages nearby.

and as thus, a new objective is formed: track down the five scattered divisions of the zarneshan army.

each division is its own mini - mission: the verdant spears are trapped in a ruined tower south of ostagar, besieged by darkspawn and blood mages. the sapphire host are caught in a swamp where the fade leaks into reality, suffering hallucinations. the azure shields are fortifying a collapsed bridge and one must defend their position in a desperate siege event. the glass lotus circle are hiding in a desecrated chantry, so the pc must cleanse the area of corrupted spirits before they can move. lastly, the oathbearers were tasked with defending the retreat routes but were betrayed by a local bann seeking to curry favor with loghain. the player must track them to a small, fortified estate where the bann has imprisoned the surviving oathbearers as leverage.

once all divisions are found, shams calls a final gathering at her camp. in return for their help, shams and her forces promise to aid the warden at key battles, including redcliffe, denerim and even the landsmeet if they survive that long. a few special side options can be unlocked:

summoning zarneshan healers during sieges

calling zarneshan honor guards as temporary party members for certain large battles

AWAKENING. after the events of origins, shams kept her oath to remain loyal to ferelden until its lands were stable. now working with the warden - commander, ariel, she is elevated to commander in chief of zarnesha's military and has created the lion guard, elite warriors with lion emblems representing courage and the immortal warriors, a separate regiment, hand - picked from childhood by her generals and trained in the arts of combat, magic and diplomacy. while she remains with her current forces in thedas, she has put trust in her soldiers to train those two new factions until they are needed, whether that is in thedas or zarnesha. shams establishes a fortified outpost at the ruins of an ancient tevinter watchtower near amaranthine, now called sarn thaen. her forces back roaming darkspawn hordes outside of warden control and protect local villages.

while they were offered lands by the surviving ferelden nobles, she refused any official lordship, choosing to live as protectors and friends to the people instead. she can be easily found due to her connection to ariel. if allied with, zarnesha becomes a critical support force for the grey wardens, especially defending amaranthine or vigil’s keep. if virgil's keep survives, she builds a small permanent settlement, a blend of ferelden and zarneshan culture, teaching new grey wardens desert tactics. she returns to zarnesha, but remains in contact with the grey wardens through ariel as they exchange letters throughout the years.

INQUISITION. by 9:41 dragon, shams has officially become sardar - ahura (supreme commander in ancient zarneshan tongue), head of zarnesha's military and a powerful figure in the royal court. her experience with blood magic and darkspawn in thedas caused her to advocate for opening limited diplomacy between zarnesha and distant nations, quite a controversial stance. when the breach tears open the sky, zarnesha already suspects something darker is stirring. the council of twelve (zarnesha's ruling court) sends a formal delegation to the inquisition once it stabilizes at skyhold and shams is among them, this time as ambassador - general and military attaché. her official purpose is to offer assistance against the rifts and tevinter incursions in the south, observe the inquisiton's strength and judge whether a formal alliance would benefit her homeland and seek knowledge about red lyrium and ancient blood magic artifacts.

she can usually be found overlooking the training grounds where soldiers spar, often advising trainers and helping mages in the undercroft research how to better contain or close rifts without relying on raw destruction. during her time in thedas, there are two side quests relating to her. the first is where she asks the inquisitor to help her destroy an ancient artifact tied to forbidden dragon blood rituals hidden in orlais. the second one is a simpler quest: she proposes a joint training mission where inquisition forces and zarneshan soldiers working together to close minor rifts. during her time with the inquisition, she struggles with the use of red lyrium, as it only reminds her of what happened years ago. she does questions, quietly, whether there is truly any safe blood magic or if she is just living on borrowed time.

if the inquisition leans toward diplomacy and healing, she might suggest forming a permanent alliance between zarnesha and the rebuilt southern kingdoms.

if the inquisition abuses magic, she quietly withdraws, taking her forces with her to protect her homeland from a world spiraling into madness.

VEILGUARD. during the events of the game, shams is more of an npc than an actual companion. she returns immediately to her homeland after trespasser because the fractures in the veil are affecting her homeland too. zarnesha is at a crossroads: do they remain isolationist or finally engage fully with the world beyond? she leads a new diplomatic mission called the sapphire concord, a council of zarneshan generals, mages and scholars who now try to build relationships beyond their borders, starting with tevinter, nevarra and orlais. she helps train new blood mages, but under strict codes of discipline, drawing on both zarneshan traditions and modern magical theory from the college of enchanters.

around act two the party will learn that she voluntarily entered a massive unstable rift in the anderfels to seal a growing veil tear. she's trapped inside a part of the fade, a mirrored image of her home, where spirits recreate her memories, fears and ideals, trying to convince her to stay forever. the quest will involve getting her out of said fade pocket, where the party will meet mirrored versions of her generals, parents and even a twisted version of herself that represents her blood magic corruption. they will have to face a high demon of regret that has bound shams' mind in chains of illusion. her own blood magic is used against the player unless they can invoke her humanity through dialogue. in the end, she offers to either return to her homeland for recovery reasons or stays with the veilguard as a blood warden of some sorts.

my preferred playthrough is the tragic end, in which shams will sacrifice herself as the fade corruption worsens, so she anchors the veil around zarnesha permanently, becoming a living spirit tied to her homeland. if a happy ending is preferred, however, she will then she founds a new school for blood and spirit mages called the sedaresh academy, promoting balance between flesh, spirit and magic.

[kassil]

The world is big, and we are so so tiny

A world that was tidally locked, facing an orange dwarf star; forever wrapped in howling winds, the eternal shade of the terminator line the only place easily habitable. And yet - nomads versed in magic of wind and ice roamed the sunward side, sifting the sands for rare elements provided by the solar blaze; cities on the night side, drawing fire magic from the high winds blowing from the sunlit side to keep warm and thaw the eternal ice to drink, and between them trade cities forever in twilight.