#adults are encouraged to not wear these braids

[hdawg1995]

had a thought about my D&D party and how everyone goes about their grooming/self care routines and the end result is my new headcanon for elves in fantasy settings.

the reason why elves have long hair is because its a social status- not of good breeding or anything, but because braids and styles of braid indicate status.

are they married? are they in the military? are they single and looking to mingle? are they single and NOT looking to mingle? are they a noble? are they a baker?

a military man who is single will wear hair totally different from a man who is a baker and married.

anyway cute idea of the party's former military elf braiding a "married" braid into his crush's hair only to panic and want to unbraid it when they come to his home town.

"did you hear? while he was on leave he got married!" "No, really? how do you know?" "the teifling girl- look at her braids!" "oh... my.... and he didn't invite his own mother!"

"Mother, its not what you think-" "it looks like it! she is a lovely lady, very polite, if only i could have braided your hair! indeed who DID braid it for the ceremony?" "no one, mother, listen-" "YOU DIDN'T BRAID YOUR HAIR FOR YOUR OWN WEDDING???"

"Lady vantis, if I may ask, who died?" "I am mourning my son's love for me!" "Mother the wedding hasn't happened!" "I can still hear him some times! which reminds me i must teach his widow the mourning braid!"

"I don't see what the problem is, we practically are married." "The problem is there is a "to be married" braid and that would have been more accurate." "but THIS is accurate." "Please don't say that around my mother, there is also a braid for "betrayed by child" and i don't wants the neighbors talking."

[blush-bblushing]

Uhh first time writing for tumblr in awhile

Blush blush guys headcanons! (Pt1)

Cw: none. All fluff!

Characters: nimh, volks, kelby, eli

Hc's under the cut

Nimh

Due to his heart condition I think he grew up afraid to do anything fun. By that I mean he avoided scary movies, rollerblading, most theme park rides, etc. He still had fun in his own way. But as an adult, he tries to test what he can/cannot do. For example: going rollerblading with marshmallow/mc. Sure, he may need to rest every 5 or so minutes. And that's ok. He still gets to experience something new. All while doing it with someone he trusts.

He has a habit of holding his hands when nervous. Like when he's feeling anxious, he'll rub his thumb on his palm. It became a habit because his family did that for him as a kid. Sometimes he'll do it to marshmallow to when they hold hands. Regardless of if they're nervous or not.

When shopping for clothes, blankets, or anything with fabric, he has to check the fabrics texture. Nimh can be jumpy at times. And sometimes certain fabrics feel like a spider touching him if he forgets the texture. So to avoid that scare, he'll lean towards softer fabrics. Obviously, not everything he has is soft. It's just the majority for his sake

This is a lot more simple- I firmly believe he watched shows like strawberry shortcake, Teddy ruxpin, bear in the big blue house, etc. All of these shows are still a comfort to this day. If he feels particularly anxious he'll watch an episode or two to calm down.

Volks

Volks is pretty good at braiding hair. During childhood, he would play with his mom's hair. Mainly stemming from boredom. This eventually led to his mother showing him how to braid. To this day, he can do multiple braid styles. His personal favorite is a fish tail braid.

Obviously he isn't a touchy person. However, if the stars align, he'll rest his head on marshmallows' shoulder. Or even rarer: he'll hug marshmallow from behind. Just don't bring attention to it. Or else he'll quickly jump up and stop. It's not an issue he has with his partner. Simply Volks trying to be more affectionate.

When he first became a wolf, Volks accepted his fate. He didn't ignore the existential horror of the situation. He just didn't care too much about it. It gave him the freedom to act in ways he couldn't before. To elaborate on this: he has a lot of self enforced "rules" for himself. Like societal expectations but with stuff he made up. After the whole wolf & marshmallow thing, he has far less of these. (Men will literally become an animal instead of going to therapy/j)

With it being revealed in his coffee date that he sometimes sings: he likes laufey. Her music makes him feel comfortable with the idea of being soft. If one were to catch him washing the dishes alone (and with his phone on), he'll be singing "from the start". He knows most of her songs by heart.

Kelby

Ugh. He's underrated. So these are to give his fans some food.

As a result of his active lifestyle, Kelby doesn't play videogames. He's tried them a few times. He sadly doesn't see the appeal.... except for one. Marshmallow showed him animal crossing. And if you've played it, you'd know there's a whole subset of characters who work out. Since he first played it, he'll occasionally ask Marshmallow to check on them. He wants to encourage his digital workout buddies :]

He doesn't have nuch of a wardrobe. It's mainly sport uniforms and hoodies. As a joke I like to think that any exceptions to this wardrobe were either 1) "forced" (asked him to try the clothes on) upon by marshmallow or 2) he realized that the event he's going to wouldn't appreciate him wearing a basketball uniform.

Kelby didn't always work out. In early childhood he did typical kid stuff. Eat a bunch of candy, watch TV, etc. Until he got around 8 years old. When he thought it'd be fun to try out his dads workout equipment. After a few days, he was caught lifting his dad's 5lbs weights. Since then his parents encouraged his efforts. And he's been athletic ever since! He still appreciates dessert or binge watching a TV show about once or twice a week. To treat himself after some hard work.

There's memes about guys using 10 in one shower products. One would think Kelby is the same. Surprisingly enough, he isn't. He takes special care of his hygiene. Hair thickening shampoo & conditioner and fancy shower gels are only a couple of examples. He doesn't like the assumption that he only cares about working out. Self care involves everything about the body. Not only the aesthetics of it.

Eli

Had a massive vocaloid phase. (They call it a phase but he literally has a couple miku figures in his room. They bought the newest figure only a year before marshmallow came) he and Marshmallow have already planned on visiting miku Expo. So long as they bring back the holograms.

Because of how varied Eli's fashion sense is, he will occasionally chose to wear something nobody expects. One day, they wore an outfit similar to poe's. Most of the other guys' reactions consisted of "who are you and what have you done with Eli?!" (Poor guy only wanted to dress up :[ ) luckily, since then, the others have gotten used to it. Some of them even encourage it if it helps them express themselves better.

As most know, he doesn't I love you much. That doesn't mean he can't show genuine affection. Say hypothetically marshmallow were to have a bad day. They'd come home to not only some new clothes in their room, but also their favorite food and a comfort movie/show/videogame on the TV. From experience, Eli finds gestures like this to be more meaningful. Proof that someone does genuinely care. And that all their words aren't superficial.

And for the final headcanon of this post: Eli always has some sort of makeup product or accessory to share. You never know when a style emergency may happen! Someone who cares for their looks (like he does) is bound to worry about others. You need a hairtie? Gotchu. Never wore makeup before but wanna try? Already have the bag out. A seam tripped in your favorite shirt? Somehow a sewing kit is ready??? They have your back in nearly anything your style may struggle with

That's all for now. If I remember to do so later, I'll share the ones I have for the other guys. Hope this was at least entertaining to read

[lexytoga]

Headcanons for Loki :

 They don't really smoke, just think it's gross and weird for humans to do

Loki prefers wine than beer, he likes sweeter drinks in general

Loki really can't sleep half the time  cause of the darkness most of the time he doesn't sleep (mobius might have gotten them a light lamp)

  Loki half the time goes to buy outfits from thrift stores he would go to places like Gucci but I feel like he would be offended by the prices 

Loki braids his hair hair before he sleeps mainly to get natural waves 

Loki likes candies a lot, mainly the sour and sweet ones but he didn't like the key lime pie and mostly ate the frosting until mobius gave him a pumpkin pie which Loki loved 

He wears eyeliner and carries eyeliner to fix it

Loki's Jontun form has gloves on cause he can't touch people since he would burn them

Loki mainly crafts his own weapon and powers them with his magic (like a poison knife)

Loki listens to Lana del Rey and sometimes Taylor Swift mainly cause he likes the sad and romantic vibes of it 

Loki weighs like a Frost giant even in his Asgardian form even though he is small the illusion doesn't change his weight (from what I know he is like 500 pounds) so mobius really has a hard time dragging Loki away

On a sunny day, Loki really has sun allergies but it's very light but worse in his jotunn form, it's one of his weaknesses, that the burns really don't heal that fast 

Loki has every birthday gift he was given because it is the only time he feels loved in a way, especially by Thor who would just get Loki a plushie

Speaking of plushies Loki has a bit of separation anxiety, it is not that bad but he does panic when someone he loves doesn't text back, like when mobius goes somewhere unannounced, as kids Thor and Loki would share a room cause of it, sometimes thor had to hold Loki when he sleeps, as an adult thor taught plushies would remind him that he is always with Loki

Loki's grave (the Infinity War Loki) would be visited by Thor every day, he would clean it and put plushies and flowers on the grave

Loki has a lot of pets some of them are Thori (a hellhound from Hel) Ikol (a nod to comic, and a magpie) a snake, and a cat named Clementine 

(This is more like a modern Loki au) Loki would have used his magic to make himself an apartment to stay on earth, Loki would come home to Clementine and hang out with her when he gets home

not really a headcanon but he does have all-speak, speaking all languages (again in the comics)

Loki sometimes wears high heels, but he would conjure shoes if they got uncomfortable

Loki sometimes bakes pies since he really isn't good at cooking, but he learned to bake a pie for mobius so he didn't have to eat from the TVA

Loki would conjiur a blanket on mobius when he would overwork and fall asleep on his desk

Mobius doesn't know how to fight so Loki uses his magic to protect mobius and help him heal

Loki has BPD (borderline personality disorder) but mobius tries to help him and calm him down when he gets angry

Loki usually scoops mobius up and hugs him random moments taking advantage of there height difference

Mobius would give Loki candy or a star after they complete a mission to encourage Loki to be more less violent

Loki doesn't curse at all but he uses more older words like quim and all or he would just mumble in asgardain, he has a habit of going back to old English using "thy" "aye"

Both Loki and mobius love language is touch and glares, Loki would telepathically talk to mobius when they are around people

Mobius loves how Loki would explain in a Shakespeare

As a kid Loki mainly pranked thor to cope with his insecurity, he still does but it was getting better with mobius comforting him

Mobius sometimes feels like he is lesser to loki and thinks he isn't good enough since Loki was a god

Loki would visit a variant of frigga who ofc knew it wasn't her Loki but yet treated him like no other

When frigga met mobius she was noting but happy and knew Loki was happy with mobius and other way around, she was glad her son found some he can be real with

Mobius always treated him equal to everyone and sees him as a lover and a friend, and never used the god title unless Loki wasn't sure of a mission being successful

(please note my version of loki is like a combo of MCU loki and comic loki! Most of these are not cannon in the MCU but it might in comics! and I keep using he/they prounce cause i am confused as hell-)

[skullsandp0tions]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 <𝟑|sfw blurb.

SFW, Pure loving tbh😭 A BUNCH OF FLUFF ! PS. This is after the Gang split up and everyone is alive and happy :D (and for Joel the apocalypse is still going)

———————————

𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧:

Young Arthur is the kind of boyfriend who’d sneak you out of your house with his horse and ride off, no matter the time, up some mountain or into a field just so the two of you could be alone. Far away from other people.

⌗He’d sit with you how long you’d want, whether you’d have a picnic, or just stargazing didn’t matter. He’d love spending time with you alone.

⌗I feel like Arthur is the kind of guy to want to do big gestures, but get embarrassed or think he’s doing too much. So he instead goes for small notes, or flowers he’d picked during his travels with the gang.

⌗He’d fight off so many people no matter how much it bruised him up, as long as it meant protecting you. Even when you’d scold him while treating his wounds. It makes his heart flutter.

Adult Arthur is the kind of husband to still bring you handpicked flowers because he knows how much you love them, even though he could buy you big bouquets.

⌗He’s the kind of husband to wake you up with kisses on your neck, arms around you holding you to his chest.

⌗After leaving the gang, and the two of you got your ranch, he’s stayed with you every day. Only leaving once in a while to go hunting or go to work. But in reality he does it so he can find more flowers for you.

⌗He’s the kind of husband who still gets into fights to protect his wife, no matter how big. And he still gets scolded by you every time he comes home.

⌗If you have kids, he’s the dad he could never be. The dad he wanted but didn’t get. He takes your kid out on walks, shows them the ropes around the ranch, and teaches them to respect their momma/papa.

⌗He’s the kind of husband to doubt he’s still attractive when he starts growing gray hairs, :(

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡:

Young Charles is the kind of boyfriend to bring you things he finds in the woods, like pretty flowers that reminds him of you, or pretty rocks and shells.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend to make you handmade jewelry off of things he finds in the nature that remind him of you. Like shells from the beach, or rocks from the woods.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend that takes you out of nightly rides, just calmly riding through the woods and admiring the nature as it comes.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend that your parents like, the boyfriend they’d never expect to be in a gang of outlaws.

Adult Charles is practically the same.

⌗He’s the kind of husband to get you breakfast in bed with soft kisses to wake you up.

⌗He’s the kind of husband who still goes out to gather things he can make into jewelry for you whenever he goes hunting.

⌗He’s the kind of husband that knows exactly what you like and what you don’t, food, drinks, textures or colors. He knows them off of the top of his head. (Weirdly but also sweetly enough he also knows all your clothes sizes)

⌗He’s the kind of husband to spoil you. As if you are the most rare thing he’ll ever come across. And maybe you are?

⌗He’d still go out to help people, but he always made sure he came back to your cabin in the woods.

⌗He’s the kind of husband to let your kid play with his hair, considering it’s so long, he doesn’t mind them wanting to braid or play with it. And it’s kind of cute.

𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫:

Young Joel (pre outbreak) Is the kind of boyfriend to yell at your parents for you, when they’re being judgemental or rude.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend to fight anyone for you. someone tries to hit on you at school? they’re going to the hospital. No questions asked.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend to always drive you home, and walk you to the door before saying goodbye with a kiss.

⌗He’d encourage you in everything you wear. You send him pictures of your outfit? You best believe he is spamming your phone quicker than lightning. He loves his girl/boy.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend to buy you gifts whenever he gets even a slick of cash. No matter hie many times you tell him to save, he buys you things anyways.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend to talk about marriage with you always. ‘I’m gonna marry you one day’.

Adult Joel is the kind of Boyfriend who protects you with his life, while also watching over Ellie.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend who doesn’t believe in marriage, not in an apocalypse when theres so many things that could go wrong.

⌗He’s the kind of Boyfriend to hold you as close as possible when you sleep, not wanting to risk losing you for a second.

⌗He’d see Ellie as your child. Caring for her as his own, and expecting you to do the same. Which you do.

⌗He wants to marry you, but he doesn’t know how, not anymore.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend to bring you handpicked items he’d found stashed away, or to wrap your wounds in gauze, not letting you lift a finger.

⌗He’s the kind of boyfriend who when he finds tommy, introduces you as his wife. Even without a ring.

[proffesionalalpaca]

So I saw Avatar 2: The Way of Water. 10/10 visuals and 6.5/10 for story. But I’m looking forward to #3 in a few years which is supposedly going to feature a tribe or clan(s) of fire Na’vi/ ‘ash people’. There is next to nothing on these guys in terms of info at the moment besides the fact that they are gonna be the bad guys of the Na’vi.

So everything after this point is basically my head-cannon/speculation/fanfic. Enjoy :)

So I interpreted them as having a nomadic warrior society, not like other Na’vi but far more bloodthirsty in fighting other Na’vi tribes, who live near and around volcanoes.

They have a greyish-purple skin tone with sharp, dark stripes that sometimes form crude spiral shapes with darkened fingertips that end in sharpened claws, filing their nails to needle sharpness with volcanic rock. Their muscular and powerful tails have armoured plates, heavily clustered around the end of the tail and evolved from hair, which can be used as a bludgeoning weapon that can easily crush a human rib cage and femur whilst inflicted deep wounds (picture ancient Aztec obsidian clubs or ankylosaurus). The fire Na’vi tend to have amber to red eyes with dark grey/ black sclera. Compared to other Na’vi sub-species and variants, the fire Na’vi have a larger set of double fangs, a large pair of canines on their upper jaw and a smaller but pronounced set on their lower jaw, they also possess larger pointed ears that are often pierced when they pass the trials of adulthood.

The ash people prefer to keep their hair loose with typically only a few beaded braids and chunky plaits to stylise and manage, each bead has a significance to the person wearing it usually marking a hunt or battle, but sometimes can mark other things like the birth of a child or death of a loved one. When going to battle they will tie their hair into tight styles like braided buns, some even braid their hair around their tswins/queues an extra layer of protection due to inter-clan disputes involving the decapitation of queues as a savage battle tactic or prisoner of war’s punishment. The gesture is more symbolic than practical, even though some swear by the practice. When a person is exiled from the clan their hair is cut short to the scalp as a sign of dishonour, marking them as outcast. (Shorter styles are okay but anything above the ears is an exiles mark).

The fire Na’vi often choose to ride upon large creatures that resemble earth salamanders and some dare to ride upon a rare species of feathered Ikran. Many tribes are almost always accompanied by several large tortoise-like animals, twice the size of the direhorse/ Pa’li, these creatures are much slower but are great beats of burden as the clans often has to pack up their sites to avoid the ever shifting lava flows that litter the region they call home. In times of great hardship ones of these animals will sustain an entire clan for over a week. Moving great distances isn’t common but will happen in the event of larger eruptions which occurs once every few generations so the clans make a habit of moving semi-regularly in order to avoid overusing the lands which would incur Eywa’s wrath.

The ‘ash people’ decorate themselves in fiery colours that reflect the lava that spews from Pandora like blood, using a mixture of glass beads, gems and feathers, an amber like mineral being particularly popular among them.

Due to their warring nature, the warriors of these Na’vi take to wearing the bones of slain enemies as trophies, jewellery and sometimes even fashioned/ incorporated into weapons and tools. Nearly every adult fire Na’vi has scars from hunting or fighting and it is encouraged to have wounds from battle scar over, a member’s first scar from a conflict or life & death struggle is often celebrated by close family and friends as an unofficial first step into adulthood (Their first literal steps being a walk over hot lava rocks).

The ash Na’vi also create their signature red war paint using volcanic ash mixed with blood from a kill, either a great beast they hunted or an enemy Na’vi.

Contrary to popular belief from other Na’vi groups, the ash people do not practice cannibalism though they do use their very sharp double fanged bites to tear out throats should their hands be otherwise occupied.

Their interpretation of Eywa differs greatly from most other Na’vi as they feel that they are subject to her true fury and are thus stronger for it, they believe that all life must be preceded and followed by destruction and death for there to be rebirth or renewal. The fire Na’vi believe that they must always adapt or die, as their way of life requires for them to never be complacent or set too heavily in their ways, though strong cultural traditions have remained for thousands of millennia such as their weaving and culinary techniques.

Hope you enjoyed that little bit of cultural speculation of a fictional alien cat species.

[evenhisfacewasanalias]

Fragments of Eros (Part 3)

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

The last of the embers turned to ash, and something brushed her hand. She let out a small cry at the brief touch, the anticipation of claws or teeth that followed. But none did.

Only the feel of a warm circlet of gold slipped around her ring finger by human hands. The sound of a man’s voice, gentle, and not a beast’s.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

A Cupid and Psyche/(Beauty and the Beast) AU, inspired by and encouraged by schokoleibniz.

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Chapter 3: The Castle

The next morning, Jane woke to find herself alone in her bed, only the slight tenderness between her thighs to prove the last evening hadn’t been a dream. Beside her, on the vacant pillow, lay the blindfold she had worn. The dark, silken fabric had been carefully folded, with a slip of parchment set across the top reminding her of the need to wear it each night if she wished for a visit from her husband. She was puzzled at this missive, the idea that her ghostly lover wouldn’t return to her until nightfall. She still had a great deal she wished to ask of him. His sudden disappearance was strange, but it was no stranger than anything else that had happened to her since she had crossed the threshold into Kent.

Jane considered how she might fill her day in this new prison. Her bridegroom had told her she would be safe in the castle, and that she would have some freedom here. Jane decided she would use this day to explore the realm of her captivity, and perhaps to consider some new means of escape.

She took stock of the room around her. The furnishings were nearly as sparse as she glimpsed the night before - the small fireplace, the canopied bed she was still nestled in, and the wardrobe, with the addition of a small table and two wooden chairs that had been hidden in shadow the night before. Atop the table lay a small breakfast of toast and two boiled eggs. A cup of tea beside it, still half warm, made her wonder how recently her husband had left her, or whether someone else might have slipped into the room in the meantime. Though she saw no evidence of the presence of another human last night, she suspected she was far from alone in the castle.

Jane wolfed down her small breakfast, realizing just how hungry she had been after all that had happened. Once finished, her stomach still growled for more. She resolved herself to go in search of a kitchen, or some other source of food, as soon as she was able. 

Looking down, however, she realized she could not leave this room in naught but her thin chemise. Her wedding gown still hung by the fire, but it was far too cumbersome to put on herself. Was there anyone here who might help her? Or perhaps some other garment was left in the room - something of her bridegroom’s? Though she had not seen him, she had known he was clothed last night, and presumably left in the same state this morning. But if this were his room, perhaps the wardrobe was his as well.

Jane went to carefully unlatch the two artfully carved doors of the ancient wardrobe, expecting to find little but hoping there might be a robe or some linens to drape over herself. Instead she found hanging within several gowns of antique make. Dresses like those she had seen only in the palace tapestries and in books - slim and soft-bodiced with draping sleeves and swirling skirts. The fabrics were simple but beautifully trimmed - one even in soft fur. Jane hesitantly chose a gown of pale blue wool, with a delicate silver ribbon lining the low rounded neckline and banded around the upper sleeves. Folded ribbons of the same make she found in the drawers below, using one to tie low on her waist as she had seen in her book. The other she made use of to braid back her hair.

The simple frock had no boning, no lacings - none of the restrictions of the courtly gowns she was accustomed to, leaving her to feel almost naked within it. Her fine silk stockings, the pearled slippers of her wedding attire seemed a modern extravagance when matched with the simplicity of the archaic gown, so Jane delved deeper into the cupboard to find a pair of woolen stockings and simple leather boots. But the boots, when she tried them on, were a size too small for her feet. For a moment, she had been nearly convinced that the clothing had appeared here by magic, but here lies the proof of their reality. Jane hid her own ill-matched slippers beneath the hem of the borrowed gown before steeling herself to step outside the small room. Finding no lock, no guard to bar her way, she stepped through the doorway to the hallway outside. 

In the light of day, the castle appeared in a state of great ruin. The towering stone archways had crumbled and wooden supports and doors had nearly rotted away with time and the absence of human hands. By contrast, the courtyard had grown thick and sprawling, and within the stone walls small tendrils of green emerged from any crevice where even the faintest sunbeam could reach them. Sometimes, even when they could not. It had lent the castle a wild and ancient appearance - uncivilized but beautiful all the same.

Jane descended the spiral staircase she had climbed before, making sure she remembered the pathway to the outside door. It was closed now, the torches of the front hallway unlit but for the sunlight that streamed through. Still, down this way appeared the first real signs of life in the castle. Jane heard the faint echo of both animal sounds and human voices in the distance, and followed their trail.

Despite this, she was still taken aback by the sudden appearance of two extravagantly dressed men before her - one older, one younger, with a clear family resemblance between them. They introduce themselves as the Lords John and Stanley Dudley, the Duke of Northumberland and his son. 

Jane recoiled at the sound of the infamous name. 

She straightened to accuse the man before her - “I was told it was you who was responsible for poisoning King Edward.”

King Edward’s death had left to The Lady Jane Grey an ill-fated and ultimately short-lived reign. It had also taken from her a most beloved cousin. She had hated the very name of his purported murderer.  

The elder Lord Dudley appeared only slightly ruffled at the accusation. “I heard you were quite clever, but clever people can also be quite foolish. Tell me this, my Lady - why would I kill our poor invalid King when I was his most trusted Counselor, and nigh ruled the Kingdom in his stead?” 

Jane was forced to concede there was no obvious rationality to this, though men did not often behave rationally. “What reasons had they to falsely accuse you of such a crime?”

If there were no motive for Lord Dudley to have killed the King, what motive was there in accusing him?

At this, the man looked more sheepish. “It was I who suggested to Edward that you succeed him.”

She gasped. Then the man was, in fact, guilty - if not of killing her cousin, then of sealing her own fate.

“So you are the reason Queen Mary has condemned me.” 

“I am only guilty of trying to keep a bloodthirsty tyrant from the throne,” he confessed.

“So then you are a beast as well,” Jane suggested.

“How preposterous!” The Lord Dudley exclaimed.

“My brother - ” The Lord Stan Dudley unintentionally revealed, and was rudely elbowed by his father in retribution.

Jane began to piece this mistaken admission together with what she knew so far - the nobility of her husband’s education, his courtly airs, his arrogance. 

“You are Guildford’s father.”

Lord Dudley reluctantly answered in the affirmative, though he refused to answer any further questions about his progeny, or what manner of beast he might be - if indeed he was one at all.  

“Then will you tell me where I might find him?” If her husband’s relatives would not answer her questions, perhaps the man himself still might.

“You won’t find him unless he wishes to be found.” The Lord Dudley rebuffed her with yet another riddle.

Jane realized the two men would be no further help, and hoped instead they might at least show her where she might find some food.

They pointed her down another staircase and swiftly took their leave, the father clearly admonishing his son for his accidental slip. The kitchens were simple enough for her to find, led by the sounds of many voices at work within. The people - for they did appear in human form - paid her very little mind as she slipped into the large room, handing her a small apple and some hard cheese before they shooed her from the work at hand. She retreated to the scullery, where she surreptitiously slid a small knife into her sleeve. The castle itself had seemed as safe as promised, but she had no intentions of staying trapped within its walls. She only needed to find a way out.

****

Jane had not expected to find so easy an exit. Though the outer doorways were barred, and likely guarded, the doors to the castle yards were left unbolted. No one troubled her as she made her way across the overgrown grounds, studying the castle’s barriers. She eventually happened upon a tall apple tree growing just near the outer walls. Jane had not climbed one’s branches since she was a small child, but she found she remembered it well enough - though her pearled slippers suffered in the ascent, leaving a scattering of small white beads on the ground below her. Far more difficult was getting down from the wall, which stood several meters high even where it had suffered some previous bombardment. 

But, not wishing to be caught atop the wall, she risked a tumble to the soft earth below. Jane winced a little as old hurts resurfaced in the fall, her bruised ankle worst of all. Still, she was able to walk, and she set about to find the woods from the night before. She wished to retrace her steps back to the White Horse Stone where she had been made a sacrifice. If she were able to find it, she could then easily find the road she had been brought in on. Though returning to London would be dangerous, it was the only place she could hope to find any ally - her previously sheltered life and the brevity of her reign greatly limited the number of friends she might seek to aid her. But perhaps if she traveled some small distance away from the road, she could re-enter the city unobserved. She had just had to remain out of sight.

A hawk circled overhead - was it the one from the evening before? Jane hurried towards a copse of trees, hoping to hide herself beneath its canopy. She quickly lost sight of the bird, and hoped that it had lost sight of her as well. She pressed on, trying to discern which direction she might have come from last night. Jane vividly remembers the view of the castle she had first had as they emerged from the trees, and she can see the same view now in the daylight, but how had they gotten here? Which way had they traveled in the dark?

Jane understood quickly that she was woefully unprepared for the journey ahead, not having truly expected to make it this far on her first try. She did not recognize her way in these woods, and she had only her small rations of food and no water or warm cloak. The sound of a branch snapping in the distance reminded her she also had no real weapon but for the small knife she had stolen from the kitchen. She held it more tightly within her grasp, hoping that she would not need to make use of it. She moved more swiftly through the copse now, looking back every few steps to assure herself she wasn’t followed. She did not see the hunter’s snare until it was wrapped around her neck. 

Jane was trapped, the unseen snare tightening around her throat the more she tried to free herself. She reached up to cut at the rope with her knife, but the anchoring wire was placed behind her where she could not see or reach so readily. With each attempt, her breath was cut short by the tightening of the rope. She clawed at the noose, trying everything she could think of to loosen it but to no avail.

Just then, she felt the presence of a gentle hand at the back of her neck, another taking the knife from her hand. Jane had no more breath to fight, and she was forced to submit to her fate. But instead of pain, she felt the slight wriggling of the rope at her throat, heard the sounds of coarse threads being cut. Within moments she was free. She turned to face her savior.

A young woman, only a little older than herself, with curling red hair and familiar eyes.

“Susannah?” Jane wondered aloud. Could it really have been her friend from so long ago? 

The woman’s eyes brightened slightly which Jane took as confirmation, and she rushed to embrace the companion of her youth.

“The hawk - it was you, wasn’t it?” Jane asked, a muffled ‘yes’ was breathed into her neck.

“Why didn’t you show yourself to me before, when I saw you last night?” Jane stepped back to look upon her friend, so different and yet the same as she had remembered.

“I wasn’t sure if you would remember me,” Susannah half smiled.

“How could I have forgotten you?” 

Susannah’s smile widened further, and then she grinned. “Last night you seemed rather distracted by your new husband.”

Jane blushed to realize her old friend, and perhaps some of the other residents of the castle, may have overheard them last night. 

“There’s no need for that,” her friend assured her, brushing her knuckles across Jane’s burning cheek. “It’s only us birds who spend much time on the upper floors, the other beasties prefer to stay below. There’s almost no one on the third floor, but Rabbit offered up her room when she heard bonny Queen Jane was coming to stay with us.”

“I’m a Queen no more,” Jane lamented. She thinks back to the night before, the small grey bunny that had led her to the room. “Is Rabbit a…?”

“Of course,” Susannah laughed. “She’s been out here so long she stopped going by her human name. I’ve heard she used to be the royal dressmaker, half a century ago. Still has the hands for it, and always says how she misses the old styles.”

Jane looked down at her dress, the style of it having gone out of fashion far more than a century ago.

“Just how old is Rabbit?”

“Not so old as you’re thinking - we’re no conjurers. But out here there’s nothing to stop her indulging her fancies, though the rest of us prefer our modern clothes.”

Susannah herself was dressed much as Jane remembers her, in a brown overdress that ties at the front and cinches at the waist, with a green vest atop it. Her hair was only loosely tied back and left untamed, missing the cap and apron of her former station. Jane could see the work of many delicate repairs to the garment, and imagined this too was Rabbit’s doing. 

“I’m the lookout, of course, which is how I spotted you trying to make a run for it.”

A small sadness filled her that her old friend had now become her jailer. Susannah immediately sensed the change in her companion.

“These woods are dangerous, Jane. The Kingsland guard know better than to try to attack us here, but they’ve littered the woods with traps. They think of us as no more than ignorant beasts.” 

Jane rubbed at her neck and considered how easily she fell into such a trap - despite her human intelligence.

“Where can I go that would be safe?”

“The safest place for any of us is the castle, your husband makes sure of that. But before you go asking me any questions about him, it’s not my place to tell.”

“Can you tell me why I was brought here?”

“For that you’ll have to ask Archer, when he returns.”

Jane remembered hearing the name Archer years ago, the absent noble son of Baron Hundson. The name was often maligned as the terrible leader of the beastly hordes, but less had been heard of him as rumors of a more monstrous King had taken hold.

“When might I meet him?”

“You already have. But he’ll return in a few days time, you’ll see.”

Jane puzzled over the claim that she had already met with him, she had no recollection of meeting any man called Archer. But then it came to her - perhaps she had not met him as a man. 

“The bear from last night?” Jane had been certain the beast that had carried her to the castle could not have been a natural creature. 

“You catch on quick,” Susannah faintly praised.

Jane wondered at why he did not simply introduce himself to her last night, but none of the castle residents had then appeared to her in human form. Perhaps they had merely tried to avoid her questions, as Susannah and the Dudleys also had. Was whatever Guildford was truly so horrible? 

The question occupied most of her thoughts even as Susannah led her back to the castle. Jane was given a tour of the fortress, and some additional food, as she caught up with her old friend. She was introduced to many of the previously unseen residents of the castle - including Rabbit, who seemed pleased to have even a former Queen wear the garments that she had made herself again. Jane had hoped to discover more about why she had been brought here, perhaps from another accidental slip from another of the beasts.  But as night fell she had learned no more of substance about her phantom husband.

**** 

When she finally returned to her room, she considered whether or not to forgo the blindfold that night. She had no reason to obey his request, other than for the small chance he might return and answer some of her questions. This seemed unlikely, as he had avoided so many of her questions on the previous night.

There was also the other possibility that he might again take her into his arms and enjoin them. Jane shivered at the memory of his touch - his body pressed deep inside her, filling her senses so completely in a way she had never imagined possible. She had not expected his desire for her, or that she might match it with her own.

Equally unexpected to her was the way she already craved the stranger’s presence once more. It was this, as much as any hope of attaining her answers, that convinced her to do as she was bid. Jane dressed for bed, tying the blindfold around her own eyes, and waited in the darkness for her bridegroom.

Jane was made to wait for many hours, until she was nearly asleep. She had just begun to drift off when she felt the bed dip behind her, and a familiar form pressed against her back. Her lover’s lips touched the nape of her neck, and his fingers traced along the evidence of her encounter with the snare.  

“Where were you?” She inquired of her stranger.

“I could not be sure you would oblige my request for the blindfold,” his words ghosted over her ear, breath warm and tingling against her skin. “You certainly did not heed my advice to stay within the castle walls.”

“You did not heed my words that I would not be made prisoner again,” she remonstrated, even as her body pressed back into his touch.

“I am not the one holding you captive here - I hope that you can believe me now.” His fingers trailed down to tease at her clavicle.

“How can I believe you when you tell me so little?” She turned her body to face him, though she could not see his face.

He pulled her into his arms. “I have told you as much as I can for now, can’t you accept that?”  

“What if not knowing is more frightening than knowing?” She asked.

“What if it isn't?” He answers back. “I will tell you all you wish to know soon enough. But let me enjoy my bride one more night.”

Jane felt her pulse quicken at his words, and nodded her assent even though a large part of her still wished to argue further. She could wait a little while longer for her answers, at least, there would be plenty of time to talk after their bodies were sated. 

But her lover was in no hurry to slake their shared desire. He took his time to work her hair loose from its braid, combing his fingers through her long chestnut curls in a way that sent a delightful tingle across her scalp. She relaxed into his touch, allowed herself to be guided back against the pillows of their bridal bed.

Once her tresses were freed to his liking, she felt his lips dip down to gently map along her features - her smooth forehead, her blindfolded eyes, her flushing cheeks and elfin chin, even the soft tip of her nose. This drew an unexpected laugh from the former Queen, a sound that was quickly swallowed up as his lips finally pressed to hers. 

Again he seemed to bask in the leisure of the gesture, lips moving slowly against hers, learning their shape and their taste by heart. With his tongue he traced across the seam of her lips, dipping in to curl against her own. Jane felt herself grow dizzy from the indulgent kiss, nearly forgetting to breathe as his hands cradled her face to his, hers drawing him deeper into her. 

When he broke from their kiss it was only to then taste the skin of her throat, lips trailing along the line of her jaw, the arch of her neck. A gentle scrape of his teeth drew a sharp gasp from her, as did a soft bite to her collarbone. He kissed across the pale skin of her chest and shoulders that lay bared by her chemise, but trailed down no further. Instead, he set to work on her hands, pressing a kiss to each of her fingertips, her palms, and biting gently at her knuckles. Jane could practically feel the beat of her heart thrumming against his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to the inside of each wrist. Her arms were treated with similar relish, and Jane laughed as his lips dragged along the ticklish skin just above her elbow. 

Jane mirrored his actions, drawing his free hand to her lips and mapping its shape. His hands were broader than her own, strong, though equally gentle and agile - as he had shown her. His fingers and palms were lightly callused, used to labor but not only to this. She could imagine his fingers tracing lines of Greek and Latin text - though perhaps only in translation, as his Odýsseia had been. But they were warm and real and he chuckled when she bit at his fingers, less gently than he had done to her. Another, softer bite to the meat of his palm drew a pleased sound from her unseen lover.

This night, he again removed his own clothing before attempting to draw off her chemise - perhaps having already learned she desired fairness in all things. For this she was glad. Jane pulled her unclad husband against her own naked form, savoring the warmth and weight of his body against hers. 

Though her husband was not yet done with his explorations. Strong fingers traced the outline of her breasts, the softness of her belly, before his lips joined them to bring the tips of her breasts to stiffened peaks. His fingers cupped at the soft underside while his teeth tugged gently at the sensitive tips. It was as though each point were directly connected to the ache building between her thighs, and Jane writhed beneath him. Her fingers tugged none too gently at his hair as she tried to hold him more tightly to her breasts.  

But his lips continued their trail down further, tracing across her ribs and down to the soft skin of her belly, broad hands holding her hips in place as he leisurely explored her. His tongue dipped teasingly into her navel, halting her breath. With each touch she felt her something rolling and warm uncurl in her stomach. His teeth bit gently into the jut of each hip, and she arched into the sharp sensation of it. His tongue swept across the crease of her pelvis, and Jane was lost in the thought that he might bring his lips and tongue to where she ached for him.

Instead, he drew away, and made his way to the end of the bed where he pressed a small kiss to each ankle. Despite Jane’s pleas, and attempts to draw him back up to her, her phantom lover continued this exquisite torture, trailing lips and teeth along the lines of her bared legs. He discovered the ticklish spot on the inside of her knee, and the sound of her moan as his teeth bit into the softness of her inner thigh. Jane felt as though she would shake apart before he ever even reached her the apex of her thighs.

The first lave of his tongue against her sex has her nearly arching off the bed, but strong hands held her steady as she reveled in his touch. Jane could feel the soft hum of his mouth against her, proof that he too was savoring her taste, her scent. Each broad stroke and every delicate flick of his tongue coiled the desire tighter within her belly, her eyes pressed shut against the onslaught. Her lover brought her to new heights of pleasure with the work of his mouth against her, inside her - until she could handle no more, shuddering apart on his tongue. Any shame at the thought of being overhead by the castle’s other residents was quickly forgotten as Jane cried out her pleasure.

Her lover held her gently through it, soothing her trembling limbs and leaning up to press a tender kiss to her lips. She savored the taste of herself on his lips, and deepened their kiss.

When she had recovered, Jane attempted to repeat the slow mapping of her husband’s body. Though she found it more difficult with her blindfold, as well as her own impatience. Still, she delighted in the sounds she could draw from him with teeth and tongue along his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest and belly until he was panting beneath her. She sought to map the shape of his unfamiliar sex with fingers and tongue, feeling her husband trembling below with the effort to stay still for her. Her lips wrapped around him and she heard a deep, rumbling groan in response. A hand threaded through her hair, not pushing but rather making sure she did not attempt too much. Jane’s own contrary nature nearly reared its awful head at the gesture, but she quickly understood the good sense of not taking on too much this first time.

It was with shuddering breath that her lover drew her away, and led her to lie back once more beneath him. She could feel the hard length of him pressed in anticipation against her hips, and her own readiness to meet him. Any soreness from their previous lovemaking was long forgotten, as he pressed deeply inside her once more. The slow, easy rhythm of his hips against her own brought her steadily once again toward the precipice of her pleasure, until she was near exhausted with the efforts of her trembling limbs to pull him deeper, force him to move more quickly against her. Though he would not succumb to her pleas - breathed hotly into the space between their lips - the steady pace of him brought her almost inexorably over the edge, the slow waves of pleasure washing over her in near endless succession. He withdrew sharply before he was pulled under by her own pleasure, spending against the tender crease of her hip.

Jane felt her husband leave the bed briefly, only to come back with a damp cloth to run over heated skin and clear away the mess that lay between them. After, he drew her back into his arms and pressed his lips again to her face, and ran his fingers through her hair. Jane found herself drifting off to sleep before she could again ask the question she both dreaded and longed for the answer to.

****

Each morning she met again with her old friend, becoming reacquainted with the Susannah who no longer needed to hide her true nature. The outer walls of the castle were newly fortified where she had once made her escape, but she was allowed to freely roam the rest of the grounds within the stone barrier. Jane was even given over the care of a small medicinal herb garden, and allowed what supplies could be spared from the kitchens to start the beginnings of a small apothecary. Jane had never been one to remain idle for long, and she longed to be useful to those whom she now regarded as her fellow prisoners.

Every night she asked her husband the same question - what manner of creature was he? - and every night he put off answering. He distracted her with long, slow hours of lovemaking, with questions about her life before she came here, even with some small admissions about his own life - but he never answered the one question that gnawed mostly heavily at her mind. Jane decided to try a new question tonight.

“Tell me then - something about yourself, something this blindfold hides from me.”

He laughed at her newest form of interrogation. “Such as?”

Jane struggled to come up with a meaningful question. She settled on, “what color are your eyes?”

“A very dull brown,” he teased.

“Don’t say that - tell me they’re golden in the sunlight, or that they’re flecked with emerald hue.”

“Do you wish for poetry or the truth?”

“Poetry is nearer to vital truth…” She quoted.

“If it’s a poem you wish for, then I’ll oblige:

Pluto, Venus from her Mount survey'd 

Now fearless, and her son embracing, said. 

O thou, my arms, my glory, and my pow'r,

My son, whom men, and deathless Gods adore;

Bend thy sure bow, whose arrows never miss'd,

No longer let Hell's king thy sway resist;”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat at the words. What was he telling her?

“Is that why I’m here, were you so struck by Cupid’s arrows?”

He laughed again. “Perhaps I am Eros himself, here to save a mortal girl from a more beastly fate by taking her as my bride.”

“What more beastly fate is there than that?” She attempted to mock him back.

But her husband’s words became more serious. “The fate that awaited you had you stayed in your own world - the fate you took on when you tried to help us.” 

Lady Jane knows the truth of this. She had been accused of treason for promoting unity with the beasts, and had been held in the Tower for nearly a year by Queen Mary. It would have only been a matter of time before Jane’s own supporters drove her ruthless cousin to send her to the executioner’s block. Her marriage had spared her that cruel end, at least.

And so she did not fight it when her ephemeral lover pulled her tight into his embrace, hands stroking at her hair and once again lulling her questioning mind to sleep.

****

Jane awakened in the darkness, alone, to the terrible clashing steel, the growling of beasts and men at the walls below her window. But above it all, she heard a noise far more frightening to her ears. 

The sound of a monstrous roar.

“Poetry is nearer to vital truth” is a quote by Plato

The poem was taken from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Book V, translated by George Sandys/John Dryden and modified.

[high-fantasy-sw]

Worldbuilding Wednesdays

Part One: Jedi Clothing

Welcome to Worldbuilding Wednesdays, the weekly post that expands on an aspect of the AU! This week's edition is focusing on the clothing of the Jedi Order.

Younglings and Young Padawans have the lightest sentence in terms of clothing. That sounds like a bad thing but I have no better way to phrase it. What this means is that they can pretty much wear whatever they want, but there are a few rules that need to be obeyed.

All younglings wear comfortable, loose-fitting tunics and breeches in warm shades, with soft turnstyle shoes made of felt with leather soles (they don’t leave the monastery much, so heavier-duty shoes are not usually needed). They also wear their distinguishing article- their wide-brimmed caps (for boys) or bonnets (for girls); these are based on the helmet-hats seen in Attack of the Clones.

When a Youngling becomes a Padawan, the dress code remains very light: he or she is allowed to wear almost anything of his or her choosing, but it must be modest and not overly distracting- so no eye-searing colors. Boots are preferred but not required, made of soft but sturdy leather, and almost every Padawan wears a belt that matches. Additionally, they each wear a colorful sash that denotes their apprenticeship. Often, these sashes match the color of the young Jedi’s lightsaber, though this is not always the case. (For example, while Obi-Wan’s sash was light blue, and Anakin’s was dark blue, which match the colors of their Kyber Crystals, Ahsoka’s sash was purple while her lightsabers were green.) These sashes can be worn in a variety of fashions, and the style will vary depending on the Padawan’s discretion. (To use the disaster trio for an example again: Obi-Wan’s sash wrapped over his left shoulder and across his chest, Anakin’s draped over both of his shoulders like a vest or stole, and Ahsoka’s wrapped around her waist and hung down the front of her skirt). And, obviously, we can’t talk about Padawans without talking about Padawan hair. All Padawans wear their hair short, but the style can vary based on the Padawan in question. And obviously there’s the Padawan Braid. Head accessories are permitted as long as they aren’t too distracting, and ethnic headgear is allowed and encouraged (Togruta headscarves and horn montrals, Twi’lek lekku headwraps, Mirialan veils, Kel Dor and Cerean helmets, et cetera). 

Senior Padawans are Padawans eighteen years of age or older. When a Padawan becomes a Senior Padawan, he or she begins to be fully integrated into the Order, so at a ceremony called the Rite of Seniority, Padawans actually get to design the habit they will wear, within the ground rules laid out by the Order, as an adult Jedi. Many Jedi wear robes influenced by their birth cultures, and this is a practice both allowed and actively encouraged. As Senior Padawans are still Padawans, however, they continue to wear their colored sashes until their knighting, even if they do begin to wear their adult habit.

During the Clone Wars, Jedi assigned to command troops wear a somewhat standardized uniform instead of their usual habit (however, their individual habit is still worn when at the Temple). This uniform consists of a simple tunic (in various shades of brown), a chainmail undertunic, splint-armor pants, upper-chest plate armor, pauldrons, and some form of boots and gloves. (For a better picture of what this looks like in practice, please reference the Jedi Edition of my Heroforge Series.) However, elements such as color, cut, and of course, cultural aspects like headgear, may be personalized by the individual Jedi.

Thanks for tuning in! If you have any questions, feel free to ask them and I’d be more than happy to answer them! See you next week for part two!

[pbandjesse]

I had a shockingly long and busy day. I was not expecting that. But I ended up teaching essentially two workshops between camp and creative alliance. But now that's its done I actually feel great mentally. Physically I'm very excited that I don't have to leave the house tomorrow.

I slept fine. But I did not want to get up. And since I knew I didn't have my first workshop until 1230 I knew I could get away with sleeping a little late. I set my alarm for an extra hour. James came in to give me a kiss and say goodbye but they said something about boxes and I was half asleep and couldn't figure out what they meant so then my brain wouldn't turn back off and I didn't end up falling back asleep.

So I just stayed in bed an extra half hour before getting up. I got dressed and had cereal. My hair is driving my a little crazy. It looks so nice when I first wake up but then just looks crazy throughout the day. I also think the top layer is breaking which is frustrating because I don't really know how to fix that. I may start wearing braids more especially since it's getting so long. I don't actually want to cut it shoulder length again right now but we will see if I stick to that.

I left here and got to camp around 830. I went straight to art to load up my wagon with all my painting supplies. But I was not feeling good. I think I've figured out that if I'm standing or laying the nausea is not terrible. But sitting down kills me. But then I am tired from standing and want to sit. It's a lose lose.

Once I was ready to go I would set up my hammock and just chill in it for an hour. My car blanket was still in the laundry so I wasn't as cozy as I wanted but it was nice to just lay there. I really need to figure out how I can hang a hammock at our house. There isn't an amazing space for it. But I think it would really make me feel better to have that somewhere. I'll investigate that soon.

Around 930 I went down to the office. It was a pretty quiet morning. I would find some step by step guides for drawing turtles and snakes and salamanders. I thought that this would be the most helpful for having the adults paint. It's like hey maybe you don't have an idea but you could follow this or you can do whatever you want I'm not your mom. And I thought that since those were the animals they got to meet yesterday they would enjoy them.

And I was very right! But that wouldn't be for hours.

In the mean time I would play around online. Sent some emails. Watched TikToks. I would have my lunch at 11 even though I wasn't actually hungry. It was just soup and it was really nice.

Heather had me scan some stuff for the land trust and construction projects. I was eavesdropping on their meeting a little. Not on purpose but the walls are pretty thin. It seems like there is issue moving forward with the rising ring because of the new building in the woodlands village. I don't 100% understand why but it sucks and I hope the are able to solve it.

Finally though I could head over to the lodge. The ground was really really muddy so getting my wagon over there was precarious. But I made it. And when I did get over there the group also asked me to bring a mop over to one of the cabins and to help turn on the heat. Can do!

So I helped with those tasks first before I set up a table for my painting materials. And then I would draw out a tortoise for me to paint. I like to teach by example. And in this case (and many cases) my example is just working along side them.

And this worked out well. They are adults and there were 3 other stations they could chose. Horsemanship, Zipline, and bb guns. I would end up with 4 people over the two hours but honestly it was so nice. Everyone was just doing their own thing. Sometimes coming over for advice. I would go around and encourage and point out things I thought was nice about their techniques. The one guy had brought his own canvases so his was much larger then everyone else. But it was honestly just such a lovely afternoon. I painted my tortoise. I chatted. I laughed with them when the staff was singing and being so silly. It was a good day. Even if it was shockingly gross outside.

Which made getting my wagon back to art horrible. Getting it through the mud and then up the hill was not fun at all. But thankfully I did not fall and the wagon didn't tip over. It just made me a bit exhausted.

So after I put everything away I had to take a half hour to sit at the office. Joe let me know they a neighbor is going to adopt Bobbi cat. I'm so thrilled. They deserve a good home. I hope they are gentle with them.

When I got back to the office after talking to Joe about the cat, Sarah gave me a really nice pumpkin muffin. Which was so kind of her. I would sit at my desk and enjoy that. Talked to Alexi and Heather about my pregnancy symptoms. And after checking in about next week's field trip I would head out.

I decided I wanted Burger King. I just thought that a veggie burger would be nice. And I was mostly right. It was a weirdly long wait at the drive through when they didn't seem to have any other customers. But it was fine.

I ate in the empty parking lot. And while the food was very good I would feel a lot of stomach pain half way through and I was sure I was going to throw up. I would breathe through it and be okay but it was upsetting that that keeps happening. I should be able toe at a single burger without getting so sick!!

But I had a plan. I needed to get home by 4 so I could sleep for a little before my workshop. I needed to do that to make it through. I was very anxious about the workshop. Like I always am. So sleep was important.

And I would sleep. I got home and changed into a sweatshirt and laid down and was out pretty quick. And it was a good little power nap. I woke up at 5 and James was home. I wasn't feeling amazing but I had to shake that off.

I got redressed. And spent a little time cutting out canvas because I realized I didn't have a great plan for how they were going to practice stitching. I would lay on the couch for a few minutes with James talking about our days. But then I had to go.

I would honestly feel a lot better by the time I got there. Still nervous but some teens would let me in the building and I would go set up. We were doing the workshop in the kitchen because the dance class was stomping so loudly again. And it was still loud in the kitchen but not as bad. I got all set up and waited for people to come in. We did t have a desk person tonight so it was a little tough getting people in the building but we managed and all 8 showed up which was awesome.

And these guys were new new new to sewing. So we absolutely started with the basics. Here are all the materials. What types of fabrics. How to use different materials for different applications. And I'm so glad I brought the canvases. I drew on each one so they could follow guides for the 5 stitches we learned. And we would talk about how each one can be used, both for making it for mending. And it was just a really awesome evening.

We had a lot of laughing and chatting. I worked on my own sampler so they could see what they needed to do. The hardest part for them was tying the knot at the end of a row but I think they the end they understood my trick or just tied it like a shoelace. Either way was fine with me. I was being as encouraging as possible and problem solving. We talked about how to see a button. How to find the needle through the back of the fabric. A running stitch, little x's, a back stitch, a whip stitch, and a blanket stitch. And once we got to the blanket stitch I had them cut out little felt pieces to make a pin. Which was very cute and they all did so good. I was super proud of them.

Slowly people started leaving. To go to dinner or trivia. The last two ladies were chatting with me and helping me pack up. And then it was goodbye and see you next time.

I have two more workshops on the calendar. I didn't realize that the class catalog had my workshops on the first page! And my face/part of my face with a project on the 4th page. It was really cool to see. Made me feel really excited.

I carried my basket of materials to the car. And headed home. I was excited to see James at their desk when I walked it. It's the best part of them moving their office to share my studio. They are usually right there and it makes me happy.

We would sit on the floor and talk. Played with sweetp. Mostly just poked and pet him. But eventually we came upstairs. James went to shower and I worked on this.

But it is time for me to wind down now. Tomorrow I am hoping to have a productive morning at home. I want to move out cleaning products to the basement. And do some organizing in the bathroom. And then in the afternoon we are getting out new backdoor and I'm so excited to get a door with a window. Game changer for sure.

I hope that it all goes smoothly. And that I don't feel so sick. Fingers crossed.

Goodnight everyone. Sleep well. Until tomorrow.

[foxsquadffxiv]

From Tephain'a to Poema

I've done a lot of imagining and writing about Tephain'a's transition into Poema, and I've finally taken the time to make a few gposes to illustrate this evolution ! (In my characters' lore, fantasia doesn't exist, and a transition is pretty close to an IRL transition.)

Tephain'a was raised as a girl from an early age. Entrusted to a clan whose Nunh didn't like him, raising him as a girl must have been a humiliation. But at a very young age, Tephain'a found that this life suited him. The clothes, the activities, the other women who cuddled him because he was "as soft and adorable as a plush toy". But in his early teens, Tephain'a fell in love with a boy, Nunh's son, and the scandal swept his life away.

As an adult, he repressed his femininity for a long time, but without rejecting it completely. He feared he would be mocked or betrayed again, as he no longer trusted anyone. He never talked about it.

Then he met Fox, his squad leader, who gradually tamed him. Trust grew between them, and one day Tephain'a dared to tell Fox what he'd been hiding for so long. Fox simply offered to experiment and find out who he was, who he wanted to be. It was the little things, undoing the braids so tightly tied to hide his long hair. Doing his hair differently…

Next it was a matter of letting the fur on his tail grow and wander around without trying to hide it, for fear of people staring at it…

Afterwards, Tephain'a wanted to wear make-up, to hide her manly marks for a more feminine look. She realized that her face was androgynous enough to give her the illusion of a woman's look, and this made her smile.

She then set about changing her body, using alchemy, to make it as feminine as possible. Supported by her squad, from her boss who offers her many outfits and encourages her to express herself as she wishes, to the other members who help and support her in whatever way they can. She has even been given her new name, Poema, by Josevalain, the most uptight member of the squad, who protects her as if she were his daughter at heart (and sometimes scolds her accordingly when she forgets that she can trust the squad not to put herself in danger).

After a while, she plucked up the courage to start a career as a dancer. She quickly blossomed, and despite the nastiness of some bullies, she gained enough self-confidence to stand up for herself or seek help, which is always forthcoming.

Her body changes slowly but she feels better every new day ♥ She even tries more private stuff. She likes it !

[alterwriting]

trial - any planet - au possible - he / him

* // blade headcanons

Please note that there may be mentions of mental instability, wounds, murder, and death.

I write Blade as an adult, around 33 to 35 years old in human years regarding his appearance since has body was restored upon being mara struck. He has lived for several hundred years, though.

When Baiheng noticed him as a young child, she became one of the most influential and supporting people in his life. Even when people like Jingliu or the other craftsmanship masters would look down upon him, he was able to count on Baiheng to encourage and comfort him. As she had taken an older sister role in his life, someone who had been there for him since his childhood days until his older days, he was willing to abandon his morals and partake in the ritual.

(I know his body is regenerating, I know, but hear me out:) Whenever he receives a new wound, it heals fast, but leaves a scar for a while. The deeper the wound, the longer it takes for the scar to heal. The more often a similar spot is wounded while still healing, the longer it takes to heal. Blade does not necessarily care about his body being damaged as long as he can finish the mission, but the other Stellaron Hunters always urge him to be more careful. He tries to tend to his wounds properly to appease them and gain some silence. It isn't unusual that his body is frequently covered in scars, but the most striking ones are an accumulation of old wounds from his time with Jingliu. For a visual reference, refer to this post.

Underneath his clothes, his entire torso is wrapped in bandages

Since his body is constantly regenerting, his hair and nails grow at a faster rate. He used to tie up or braid his hair at first during his isolation before joining the Stellaron Hunters - until it became too much of a nuisance and he simply began cutting it. Not caring much for his appearance, he did look less human and more like a monster when Kafka and Sam encountered him. It is only thanks to Kafka that he has returned to a more civilized appearance. She also is the one to gently remind him of taking care of his appearance.

Due to overstimulation triggering his mara, he usually wears a pair of dark shades, a face mask, and gloves to prevent his senses from becoming overwhelmed. Silver Wolf may or may not have made a couple of jokes about his appearance on missions.

He may not be the most stealthy one on missions, but he does get the job done at a very successful rate. He doesn't have to question or think for his own - he simply follows Elio's instructions, leaving him with a clear mind.

At first, Blade did not care to become more familiar with the other Stellaron Hunters. He was there for his reward, not for their sympathy. Over time, however, he grew to learn about their habits, their likes and dislikes, their thoughts and fears. Claimng that they are friends would be an exaggeration, yet he seems to have learned how to rely on them.

He has picked up a habit of drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes whenever he wants to numb his senses. It is far from a dependency and more of a convenience. If Kafka is not with him to suppress his mara, he can still rely on other sources to further postpone his outbreak.

As someone who has become numb to the joys of life, he doesn't have any hobbies as others may have. Whenever he has time on his hands, he would simply spend it taking care of his wounds and scars, or waiting for the next mission. Unless Silver Wolf wants to show him a new game or Kafka tries to show him a new outfit, he really doesn't leave his quarters much.

linked to my own Kafka, not necessary for others: He is most comfortable around Kafka since she is the one who can grant him a moment of silence from his thoughts when being close to an episode of mara resurfacing. Whenever he is restless, he would approach her without a word, and she would know. They share a bond of reliance that doesn't require words.

up for discussion: In my portrayal, Blade used to have romantic feelings towards Dan Feng, but has forgotten about the positive memories he has had with him. Due to him being filled with hatred for such a long time, it is unlikely for him to rediscover any feelings for Dan Feng or his reincarnation.

[totally-not-deacon]

A Late WIP Wednesday For You!

Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire!! And I'm pretty sure most of y'all have been tagged already, so consider this an open invite to anyone who hasn't yet! Lemme see yo stuff!

So, writing's going slow, but it IS there. Not gonna share from AR this week, cause most of what I have down is really plor-centric. BUT. I've been having a blast goofing off with this silly, self-indulgent epilogue of sorts and getting to write and flesh out Marasa's family. I've also discovered writing kids is really fun. So y'all can have that instead!

Fluff time ahead, baybee!

Chaos erupted as the door swung open, the sound of two small pairs of feet stormed through the entryway, alongside a cacophony of high-pitched shrieks and giggles. Nebarra glanced at her with a mixture of confusion and alarm. She responded with a knowing smirk.

The sources of the noise skid to a halt across the room, two pairs of eyes peering at the strangers in the house. A third, older and taller mer – though still a good head below Nebarra – stopped behind them, a bright smile on his face. The resemblance was uncanny; this must be one of her brothers. Baeren, going by the children in tow.

“Took you long enough! C’mere!”

“Oof–” She was drawn into another bone-crushing hug. This was going to be a common occurrence, wasn’t it? Marasa swatted him away, still grinning. “Ouch, you ghul!”

Baeren laughed, waving the two children over. They both approached cautiously, not sure what to make of all this. “This is your aunt Mar – remember I told you about her?” They nodded, eyeing her. “And this is… er, I’m not sure if I ever caught your name?”

Nebarra introduced himself once again, the name slowly becoming familiar again. Marasa likely never mentioned it in her letters, keeping it to herself as she’d promised years ago. He jumped, feeling something tugging on the leg of his trousers. One of the little ones gawked up at him. A little girl, sandy hair pulled into two long braids and the tiniest nubs of Bosmeri antlers just beginning to show, looked at him in wonder. Should he… say something?

“Wow, you’re really, really tall!” she chirped before standing up proudly, puffing out her chest. “My name is Lorne and I’m almost five years old! Papa says I’m a big girl now. Right Papa?”

The other, a small boy with a mop of wild auburn hair and dark eyes not unlike both Marasa and her brother, stood behind his sister, looking a bit more suspicious of the strange mer. He took the pair of them in for a moment before he spoke up.

“Why are you yellow?” Nebarra blinked.

Marasa burst into laughter, doubling over with her hands on her knees and tears in her eyes. Each time she thought she’d contained herself, his dumbfounded expression just set her off once again. The small boy watched her for a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles as well, clearly pleased with himself. So much for not encouraging bad behavior.

“Oh, by Y’ffre – I’m sorry about that. They’ve never met an Altmer before.” Baeren crouched down, gently scolding the boy. “You can’t just ask something like that, Faedon.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s impolite.”

“Why?”

“Ohoho, we are not doing this again – not after last time,” he shook his head. “Took an hour to wear him out, I swear.”

The front door slammed open once again and another pair of footfalls stormed in, however these were much heavier than the ones belonging to the tiny mer in front of them. They, too, were accompanied by raucous laughter, this time distinctly adult – though one wouldn’t guess as such listening to the… colorful story one was telling the other.

“Oh, boy.” Marasa chuckled under her breath.

“What do you mean oh, boy? I don’t think I like tha –”

“Sis!!” called a pair of not-quite-identical twins in unison, each with autumn orange eyes and small antlers, though only one sported the auburn hair most of the family had, the other matched his niece and father. Other than that, however, there was very little difference between them. They were tall for Bosmer – not that it was saying much, in Nebarra’s opinion – made all the more evident when they lifted Marasa off the ground, squishing her between them in a massive hug. She squirmed, getting her hands over her head to yank both of them by the antlers to get them to let her go. Nebarra had to admit it was amusing to watch.

“Ugh, you two smell like a kollopi’s ass! Did you even bathe when you got back into town?”

“Papa!” Lorne yelped, scandalized. “Papa, auntie Mar said a bad word!”

[bloodsuckingfiends]

Of Stars & Blood- Chapter 2

Summary: Elendil's slumber is abruptly awoken, and an important conversation is needed.

Pairing: Astarion x Elendil (named Tav)

Note: Tav is a high-elf whose adult, chosen name is now Elendil

Warnings: brief blood drinking

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: So just to note! Some of the canon dialogue is changed to accomodate the story, as well as 2 unnamed characters being named!

Series Masterlist

AO3 Link

~233 years prior~

In the lower city of Baldur’s Gate, Algar and Eirwen Linseed had rooted their family in a beautiful home that doubled as an art studio and gallery. Their two children, Tavriel and Tirion, both took after their parents in their creativity. Tirion had strummed a lute for the first time at the early age of just 4 years old, while Tavriel favored the paintbrush, much like her father. Her little hands painted and drew with the grace of a much older elf than herself, and the Linseeds encouraged Tavriel’s talent with enthusiasm. Algar had worked across Baldur’s Gate, painting portraits for some of the most prestigious residents, and nobility, often working in the Upper City in his evenings. Tavriel had dreamed of joining alongside her father on one of his portrait days, of watching her father paint and learn from a master of his craft. It wasn’t until Tavriel was around 7 years old, that Algar surprised her one morning by telling her to grab her sketchbook and charcoals, they had a long evening ahead of them. Eirwen helped Tavriel dress in one of her finest dresses, and intricately braided the top half of her daughter’s dark hair.

The two strolled down the streets of the Upper City, Tav holding onto her father’s hand as he gently told her to behave herself while at his client’s home.

“Wow… Papa, are they nobles?” Tavriel whispered as her big hazel eyes took in the splendor of the Upper City. Algar chuckled, and squeezed his daughter's hand.

“They certainly are, that’s why you must be on your very best behavior. Make sure to keep your charcoal to parchment, and use your manners.”

“I promise, papa.” Tavriel nodded, as she skipped along.

The family that Algar had been painting for, had been a client for years, and were more than happy to let him bring his daughter along when he had asked. 

Before long, the two elves came upon the doorstep of a large, beautiful manor. Tavriel thought it looked like it might belong to the princes and princesses in the fairytales that her mother would tell her before bed. Then again, she had yet to see any of the truly large and magnificent buildings in the Upper City.

When Algar had knocked upon the door, a beautiful elven female answered. “This must be the Queen.” Tavriel thought with certainty. The elf was tall and slender, her hair the color of moonlight, and her eyes jade. When she spoke, her voice was soft, gentle.

“Algar! It’s so lovely to see you.” The woman glanced down at the young girl, “And this must be Tavriel! Darling, I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you from your papa.” 

Tavriel’s long ears turned pink with embarrassment at the praise, and murmured, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Please, come in. Alverior is already in the parlor. I’ll be in in just a moment.” The elven female, who Tavriel would later learn was named Rinnaneth, elegantly swept off down the corridor.

Algar led them into a large room with a fireplace, and a sofa. The walls are decorated with paintings that Tavriel stands still to take in, recognizing them as her father’s work, each brushstroke done with careful precision. They were all so beautiful,one depicting an elven family, another depicting the manor, a couple showing just the couple over the years.

“Algar!” an older male elf steps forward to shake her father’s hand. The doublet he was wearing was adorned with intricate, embroidered flowers, petals and vines snaking up the cuffs and along the chest. His hair, though light, was not near as light as his wife’s, and was meticulously coiffed.

“Alverior, this is Tavriel.” Algar introduced the young girl, a hand on her shoulder. All of the grown-up talk was tiring Tavriel out.

“Evening sir, it’s nice to meet you.” she muttered, looking down at her shoes. Alverior was quite tall, and though he seemed nice, he also seemed a pinch haughty and a bit talkative.

“Now, did you have any poses in mind for the portrait today, or did you just want to work as we go?” Algar asked Alverior. When he had work to do, there was little else he had room to think about.

“Rinnaneth and I were thinking that we would do just the two of us for this one. It’s already been half a century since you painted our last one.” Alverior flourished his hand about the air as he talked.

From the hallway, Tavriel could hear Rinnaneth speaking in a hushed tone to someone, nosily, she peered around her father’s legs towards the source of the voice. She promptly turned back around when she glimpsed Rinnaneth rounding the corner.

“Tavriel darling, I’d like you to meet our son!” 

Tavriel turned back around, her eyes meeting a pair of jade green ones.

“This is Astarion. Astarion, this is Tavriel.”

The boy looked from his mother, back to the girl in front of him, “Hello Tavri- Tav…” The name got caught on his tongue as he tried to pronounce the name.

“You can call me just Tav.” Tavriel interrupted him, giving him a smile, which he returned.

“Would you like to play, Tav?” Astarion asked a bit shyly. Tav looked up at her father, who she was supposed to shadow. 

“Oh, go on. Have a little fun.” Algar grinned at the girl.

The boy stepped forward and grabbed Tavriel’s hand, “Come on! I’ve just got new blocks! We can build a castle!” Tav giggled, and chased after him.

“Well, I think they’ll be busy for a little while at least.” Alverior laughed, settling into the sofa beside Rinnaneth, while Algar began to prepare his palette.

~present day~

Elendil woke with a start, her heart pounding out of her chest. Her eyes meet crimson, and she props herself up on her elbows.

“Shit.” Astarion mutters, backing away from Tav who was sleeping just moments before.

“Astarion, what are you doing?” he can hear the slight tremble in her voice, the fear of the implication.

“It’s not what it looks like. I swear it. I was just… I needed a meal.” His words are unsure, scrambling for purchase, to get Tav to understand.

“This is making less and less sense by the minute.” she leans forward, elbows on her knees and pinches the bridge of her nose, “what do you mean you ‘needed a meal’? You were hovering over me while I slept!! You couldn’t just make something yourself then?” she whisper-yells in exasperation. 

“Ta- Elendil,” he closes his eyes a moment to catch his bearings, “I need to tell you something, if you’ll let me.”

Her heart skips a beat, perhaps he would be able to talk about things.

“I was turned, I’m what one would call a vampire spawn.” Astarion slips his mask back on. He needs to make this a convincing argument. Needs to ensure that he won’t leave this conversation to pack his things, or worse; with a stake in his chest.

“Okay.” her eyes are unblinking, the expression on her face neutral.

“‘Okay’? That’s all you have to say is ‘okay’?” It was his turn to be exasperated.

“Astarion, it wasn’t too hard to piece together that something was different.” Elendil looked at him as though it were that simple. “I mean, most folk’s skin isn’t the color of milk, nor are their eyes the shade of blood.” she gestured a hand over Astarion’s form.

“Speaking of which darling, I haven’t fed in some time. I’ve noticed I’m not performing as well in combat as I might, were I to have a well balanced meal.” his voice lilts at the end.

“All you had to do was ask.” Elendil yawns a bit as she brushes her hair onto one shoulder, the expanse of her neck on display to Astarion’s hungry eyes. He could see the gentle thump of her pulse beneath her skin, and could smell the sweet scent of her blood. He took a deep breath before kneeling beside her. “I’d hate to make things uncomfortable, but it’s easiest if you lie down.” Elendil obliged immediately, looking up at him with her big eyes. Something flipped in the pit of his stomach at the sight. He must have been starving to get such a reaction from himself.

“Like this?”

“Perfect, darling.” Astarion crouched lower, gently cradling her head in the palm of his hand. It was soft, and spilled between his lithe fingers. She closed her eyes as he leaned in towards her neck, his fangs bared.

When his teeth break her tender skin, and her hot blood floods his mouth, a shiver wracks his body. 

She tasted immaculate. 

Better than anything he had tasted. Though he hadn’t much to compare to, he was certain that it couldn’t get much better than this. Her blood tasted like euphoria, like the strongest drug one might find back in the city. He couldn’t get enough.

Her small whimper brings him back to reality.

Astarion pulls away from Elendil’s neck, and his eyes scan over her face. Her hazel eyes flutter between shutting and staying open.

“Are you alright?” He tried to ignore that flipping in his gut again.

“Mmhm.” Elendil mumbled, “Just sleepy now s’all.”

“Thank you.” Astarion whispers, his hand instinctively brushes an errant strand of hair from her face before he quickly pulls away.

“This is a gift you know. I won’t forget it.” He stands and makes his way back to his bedroll when he’s certain that she’s just sleeping and not passed out or worse, from blood loss.

As he settles into trance, he can’t help but feel at ease, and restless at the same time. At ease from being properly fed for the first time in centuries, but restless as the ache in his chest and flutter in his stomach when interacting with someone he hadn’t known for 200 years.

Tags: @thexhostess @roguishcat

[casspurrjoybell-28]

The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 14

*Warning Adult Content*

Intentions - Kao

I head over to my training with Morgan after dropping Oliver at school, since it's the Beta's day off and he insisted on bringing some baked goods for Xavier.

I'm proud of him for being so forward about his interest in the Alpha, though it took a lot of encouragement from me.

We find the two Alphas we seek out on the field as usual, unfortunately accompanied by their flirty friend.

"Oh, boy. Raf is here," Morgan sighs, running a hand through his long hair that he wears down today.

It reminds me of spun silk, pouring down his back as a few small braids with silver beads woven in them accompany the loose strands.

He's stunning.

Xavier must see it.

"Does he hit on you too?" I ask, remembering the other day when the alpha tried to make a pass at me right in front of Cyrus.

"So you've already been a victim," Morgan muses.

"I'm surprised he even tried considering you and Cyrus are..." he stops himself, shooting me an apologetic smile.

He knows by now that I'm sensitive to the topic of us being mates.

"Morgan," Rafael calls out, looking delighted to see us as we approach.

I take note that when he registers me his face goes pale for a second and he gulps, looking to Cyrus who gives him a stern glare.

"Hi, Raf," Morgan clutches the basket of food he brought nervously once he sees Xavier.

"Well don't you look gorgeous today."

Rafael doesn't even bother to hide his obvious pass toward my friend, opening his arms to draw Morgan in for a hug when a dark brown hand closes around his collar to restrain him.

"Control yourself, for once," Xavier growls, pulling him back from the Beta.

His orange eyes flash in what I decide has to be protectiveness and I can barely hide my smile.

Maybe Rafael being here isn't so bad after all.

It's certainly putting on a show.

Rafael pouts as he's pushed aside for Xavier and Cyrus to greet us.

I steal a glance at Cyrus, come to find he's already staring intensely at me and not making any effort to be subtle.

I feel my cheeks burn, so I instead turn my attention to Xavier and Morgan's interaction.

"I... I baked these for you. Didn't want you to run out of energy today. I know how hard you've been pushing yourself lately," Morgan looks sweetly up at Xavier, pushing his hair behind his ear.

Okay, he's pulling out all the stops.

If Xavier doesn't melt for this...

"Thank... you," the Alpha says, taking the basket into his hands, sounding unsure of himself.

His face is blank, excerpt for a furrowed brow.

Oh, come on.

Is he always so... un-expressive?

"Ooh nice, can I have some?" Rafael reaches for the basket but Xavier harshly swats him away from it.

"They're for me, not you."

He clutches the basket to his chest like it's precious treasure.

I glance at Morgan, who's looking rather pleased with himself.

I'll take this as a success.

*

"Cyrus. I want to practice combat already," I beg him once we're alone.

For a week or so, all we've been doing is basic exercises and my worst enemy, running.

It's only gotten a minuscule bit less agonizing.

"You are not ready," Cyrus shakes his head.

"How do you know that? You haven't even seen what I can do yet."

He stops, a devilish smirk coming to his face as his eyes lower to look at me.

I stand my ground, stubbornly holding his gaze as I cross my arms.

"What?"

"It is just, I have seen what you can do. Do you forget how we met, little wolf?"

I bite my lip, the embarrassment of the memory overcoming me.

How easily he had rendered me harmless, un-arming and pinning me down in seconds.

"That's not fair,"

"Do not get me wrong. I admire your fighting spirit. But if it had not been me..."

"Cyrus, you have no idea why I did that. I thought... I thought you were..."

I stop myself before I can continue.

I was going to say I thought he was one of Zacan's Alphas.

How did I almost slip up?

I can't afford to.

My past must stay hidden.

Always.

"You were running from someone, Koa. I do not know why you will not tell me who."

I shake my head.

"That's... besides the point. What I'm trying to say is you're not testing me. I want to try at it already."

He surveys me with a stern look, slightly furrowing his brows.

"Alright. Try. Give it your best shot,"

"R-right now?"

"Yes," he says, nodding.

Moon Goddess, being put on the spot like this is intimidating.

Especially in front of him.

I already know I'm going to humiliate myself.

But I did want this, so I have to follow through.

Aiming to take him by surprise, my fist shoots out and collides with his firm chest.

Pain emanates from my knuckles and I wince but I look up at him in surprise that he didn't block my hit.

And that's when I realize.

He didn't block it because it had absolutely no effect on him.

He hasn't budged whatsoever, I don't think he even blinked.

He only keeps looking at me expectantly.

I scowl, trying again but this time he catches my fist fast as lighting, whipping me around with ease so my back is pressed to his abdomen and I'm caged in by his arms.

I'm not hurt in the slightest but I'm winded by the sudden movement becoming overly aware of the position he's pulled me in.

I feel his abdominal muscles tense against me, so solid and built.

My stomach feels like it's doing somersaults and I swallow.

"Let me go," I exclaim, trying to wriggle out of his arms.

"Why should I? If I was a real opponent, you'd be stuck like this," his deep rumble of a voice is too close to my ear and I feel his breath against my curls as he holds me firm against him.

He's so strong, holy hell.

Then a sudden thought strikes me, bringing with it a sinking, icy feeling.

'I would never be able to get away if he didn't let me'.

Panic overcomes me as I forget where I am.

I can't see his face in this position and I quickly feel my breathing pick up as he continues to restrain me.

I try to tell myself it's Cyrus but the feel of him is so Alpha... so large in comparison to myself and the thought sparks fear into my very soul.

He could hurt me. He could snap my neck.

My wolf doesn't even care that he's our mate right now, too ensnared by the haunting memories of our past.

Of what was done to us.

"C-Cyrus, please," I whimper out, my voice shaking against my will.

He releases me immediately, as if I were hot iron.

"My moon. Have I harmed you?" he exclaims, eyes alight with concern as he takes in my state.

I'm trembling and I know he can tell.

I can only hope I was able to blink away the tears of distress in my eyes before he saw those too.

I feel so stupid.

I'm the one who asked for this and now I'm getting all sensitive.

I wrap my arms around myself, turning away.

"I'm fine, thanks. I think I'm done for today."

"Tell me what I have done, Koa. I cannot bear to see that I have made you like this and not know why," he begs, his long stride enabling him to quickly catch up with my walk toward the edge of the field.

God, why does he keep pushing?

I'm mortified enough as it is.

"I said that I'm fine," I snap, whirling on him suddenly.

"It's just as you said, I wasn't ready."

"It was more than that," he growls lowly in response to the raising of my voice.

"It shouldn't matter to you."

"How can it not? Koa, do you hate that I care for you?"

"You don't even know me."

"Because you will not let me in. Do you know how it is for me, having you so close but so far at the same time?"

The anguish in his eyes causes a stab of pain in my chest but I brush it off.

I give him a steely glare, snarling.

"Don't pull that shit on me. And, what? So you want me to let you have me? You want to fuck me, Cyrus? Get it out of your system? I guarantee once you get what all the others did you won't care less about me."

His pale cheeks bloom with color as he registers my vulgar accusation.

"That is not what I intend at all."

"So you don't want to fuck me? You don't have any of those kinds of desires?"

I raise a brow, my tone dry as sand.

The flush to his face intensifies by tenfold as he struggles to answer, opening his mouth to say something than deciding better of it, closing it again.

Hah. So he can't lie. And what did I expect, anyway?

All Alphas are the same.

"I'm just saying, don't confuse your heart with your cock. Your desire to 'know' me is purely that. 'Physical.' I'm not special, Cyrus. When are you going to see that?"

I shake my head with a sigh.

I know I've hit him where it hurts, I can see it in the pained expression on his handsome face.

My wolf whines, urging me to apologize for the outburst but I know better.

Making him hate me is the easiest way out of this.

He'll realize sooner or later I'm not worth it and stop trying.

It's better this way.

His wolf's desire to claim me is probably overwhelming right now.

That's why I called out his sexual intentions.

Once he sees that it's just the bond talking, he'll understand that we could never have real love.

I don't know how to love.

I don't know what it feels like, except for the familial love between my child and I.

Real, deep, passionate love... well, I don't believe something like that exists.

An alpha could never truly love an Omega and I will never fall for one of their kind, either.

That is just the way it is.

[mypetmycat1]

Paws and Play: Exploring the Best Cat Toys for Chewing and Dental Health

Cats are not just playful companions; they are also natural predators with a primal instinct to hunt, pounce, and chew. Providing your feline friend with appropriate cat toys for chewing not only satisfies their hunting instincts but can also promote dental health and keep them engaged and happy. In this article, we will explore the best cat toys designed for chewing, their benefits, and how they contribute to your cat's overall well-being.

Understanding Your Cat's Chewing Instinct:

Cats have an innate need to chew and gnaw, which serves several purposes:

Oral Health: Chewing can help reduce plaque and tartar buildup on your cat's teeth, preventing dental issues. It also stimulates saliva production, which aids in oral hygiene.

Mental Stimulation: Chewing is a mentally engaging activity for cats. It provides an outlet for their natural curiosity and can help reduce boredom and anxiety.

Relief from Teething and Stress: Kittens often chew to relieve teething discomfort, while adult cats may chew when they are stressed or anxious.

Play and Exercise: Chewing on toys allows cats to exercise their jaw muscles and helps burn off excess energy.

Choosing the Right Cat Toys for Chewing:

When selecting cat toys for chewing, consider the following factors:

Material: Choose toys made from cat-safe materials like rubber, natural rubber, silicone, or fabric. Ensure they are free from toxic substances and small parts that could be ingested.

Size: The size of the toy should be appropriate for your cat. Avoid small toys that could be swallowed or become choking hazards.

Durability: Look for toys designed to withstand a cat's sharp teeth. Cats can be quite persistent when it comes to chewing.

Variety: Cats have individual preferences, so offer a variety of textures, shapes, and sizes to see what your cat enjoys most.

Safety: Always prioritize safety. Inspect toys regularly for signs of wear and tear, and replace them if they are damaged.

Top Cat Toys for Chewing:

Catnip Toys: Catnip-filled toys are not only great for play but also for chewing. The scent of catnip can be enticing for cats, encouraging them to engage with the toy for longer periods.

Rubber Chew Toys: Durable rubber toys like Kong are designed to withstand tough chewing. They come in various shapes and can be stuffed with treats to make them even more appealing.

Dental Toys: Some toys are explicitly designed to promote dental health. They have textured surfaces that help remove plaque and tartar as your cat chews.

Interactive Treat Toys: Toys that dispense treats as your cat plays and chews provide mental stimulation and reward them for their efforts.

Rope Toys: These toys are not only for dogs. Some cats enjoy chewing on rope toys, which can help clean their teeth and provide a safe outlet for chewing.

Chew Sticks: Natural wood or compressed catnip sticks are designed for chewing. They satisfy your cat's need to gnaw and come in various flavors and textures.

Fabric Toys: Some fabric toys are designed for both play and chewing. Look for toys with reinforced stitching to ensure durability.

Homemade Toys: You can create DIY cat toys for chewing, such as braided fleece ropes, by using cat-safe materials and ensuring they are securely assembled.

The Benefits of Cat Toys for Chewing:

Dental Health: Chewing on textured toys helps remove plaque and tartar, reducing the risk of dental issues and promoting good oral health.

Mental Stimulation: Chewing is a mentally engaging activity that can help alleviate boredom and reduce anxiety in cats, particularly those that spend a lot of time indoors.

Physical Exercise: Chewing on toys provides exercise for your cat's jaw muscles and can help keep them physically active.

Stress Relief: Chewing can be a soothing and stress-relieving activity for cats. It can help them unwind and relax, especially during times of anxiety.

Entertainment: Chewing on toys can keep your cat entertained for extended periods, making it an excellent choice for solo play.

Maintaining and Cleaning Cat Chewing Toys:

Proper maintenance and hygiene are crucial for your cat's toys. Here are some tips for keeping them clean and safe:

Regular Inspection: Examine your cat's toys regularly for signs of wear and tear. Discard any toys that are damaged or have loose parts.

Cleaning Routine: Some cat toys are machine washable, while others can be wiped clean. Follow the manufacturer's instructions for cleaning.

Replace When Necessary: Cat toys have a lifespan, and they will eventually wear out. Be prepared to replace toys as needed to ensure your cat always has safe and engaging options.

Rotation: Rotate your cat's toys to keep them fresh and exciting. This can help maintain your cat's interest in their toys.

Storage: Store your cat's toys in a clean, dry place to prevent them from accumulating dirt or dust.

Safety Considerations:

Safety is of paramount importance when selecting and using cat toys for chewing:

Supervision: When introducing a new toy, supervise your cat to ensure they play safely and do not ingest any small parts.

Age-Appropriate Toys: Ensure that the toys are appropriate for your cat's age and size.

Avoid Toxic Materials: Steer clear of toys made from materials that could be toxic if ingested, like plastic or foam.

Remove Swallowed Parts: If your cat accidentally swallows a piece of a toy, contact your veterinarian immediately.

Avoid String or Yarn: Cats can easily ingest string, which can lead to severe health issues. Be cautious with toys that have string-like attachments.

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[a-tale-of-legends]

You know I feel like I'm just giving the Legendverse rivals longer hair as time goes on. If not that then I'm cutting it.

Blue is pretty much the same as it's always been so I'm not counting him. Same hors for Hugh cause idk what the fuck to do with that hair anyway....same for Barry.

Wally ends up growing out his hair slightly, being able to put it into a tiny ponytail. Silver's hair also grew out compared to his he had it in hgss ( it was only up to his neck, now it's down his back). He switches from leaving it out or having a ponytail. He might have an undercut I have yet to decide.

Bianca cut her hair a bit. She either leaves it in a bob, puts it in a ponytail or she cuts it into a cute pixie cut. Cheren, after some encouragement, grew out his hair. He wears it in a low ponytail with an orangish red bow. N did a spur of the moment hair cut after looking in the mirror too long ( feared he looked too much like Ghetsis). Jazz( the twins mom) helped him cut it properly. He now doesn't hate his hair being long, but really likes it short so he's keeping it for now.

Hau I feel his hair stays relatively the same. Well, I can see his hair growing longer, but not super long. Gladion on the other hand grows out his hair a lot and keeps it in a ponytail or messy bun ( bun usually seen in his Aether Foundation wear). Lillie is not a rival but I'm gonna talk about her anyway. Her hair has changed s lot over the years. During her time in Kanto and for usum she actually cuts her hair with an undercut and adopts a more alt fashion akin to her brother. As they get older she probably grows it out again but keeps the blue streak in her hair. Her longer hair is in a cute braid.

....okay I'll be honest, I haven't thought that far with the XY and Swsh rivals. Shauna I can see growing it out ever so slightly, and changing the style of her hair. But Trevor and Tierno I have no clue. For the swsh rivals I haven't thought past Bede growing out his hair, wearing it in a low ponytail+ bow like Cheren but the ponytail kinda goes over his shoulders + one of his eyes being covered by the hair cause why not. Marnie and Hop are kinda difficult for me to pin down right now. I've seen lots of fanart of them as adults but I'm not 100% sure for me though. So they're a work in progress.

So yeah! Most of the Legendverse rivals end up either growing out or cutting their hair. Makes sense, time has passed so they all might want some change, but it kinda funny to me that hair growth or haircuts are the default for me it seems lol.

[rainecreatesstuff]

actually wait I’m not done

Tubbo hasn’t changed his clothes since purgatory. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Really, he does. His shirt is so dirty and rumpled that it’s becoming scratchy, and the wounds on his arms have long since healed, rendering the bands of fabric on them uncomfortable and useless.

it’s just hard. He almost changed after movie night. He was in a really good mood. Tired, but still with energy in him, actually wanting to take care of himself a bit and relax before settling down for bed. But, well, then Roier, and…

he ended up spending a few more hours tweaking stuff in the factory until he passed out beside a boiler.

it’s not that he thinks he’s undeserving of the care, or that it doesn’t matter. He knows both those things aren’t true. His friends give him worried glances every time they see him. Sunny gets scared sometimes when he snaps at his machines, or when she finds him passed out on the factory floors. Every single person he cares about keeps encouraging him to wash his clothes and take a nice shower. Build himself a house (or even just a room, or a train car), and get some sleep in a proper bed. So he knows it’s not a matter of deserving it. Knows it’s important.

He’s just… tired. So damn tired.

Purgatory was exhausting. Leading a team of adults who only listened to him when it was convenient was exhausting. Fighting his best friends was exhausting. He loved her more than life itself, but taking care of his daughter was exhausting. Mourning was exhausting, and was even more so when everybody around you kept joking about it.

Stopping to think, to let the horror and grief sink in, was downright debilitating.

It was so, so much easier to just keep going. Not let himself stop, not let himself relax. Self-care meant a relative quiet, and quiet meant thinking, and thinking meant a sword in his chest, toxic gas filling his lungs, blood under his nails. It meant doubt and fear that he was failing the most important person in his life. It meant… it meant blue flowers, and letters, and an empty casket.

So Tubbo doesn’t let himself stop for a long time. Even though part of him wants to, even though his friends are begging him to. He knows Sunny sees it too, sees him wearing himself to the bone.

it takes a long time for him too. But, eventually, maybe Sunny gets cold one night, and he goes into his storage to grab one of his sweaters for her to borrow. She asks which ones are his favourites, and he gives her one that he loves. They frown, and ask what his second favourite is.

He’s confused, but he pulls out a lovely, soft, green hoodie. Sunny seems satisfied, and puts on the hoodie he’d given her, then motions for him to put the other one on. It melts his heart a bit. At first he says no, but then Sunny gives him that pleading look she gets whenever she wants something, and he’s giving in.

Thing is, it’s a lovely sweater, and he really doesn’t want to ruin it with his gross shirt. So he puts Sunny to bed, but promises he’ll put the sweater on.

He… doesn’t quite have the energy for a shower. Doesn’t think he can sit in the quiet for that long. But what he can do is grab a new set of clothes, take a dunk in the river, and change.

Sunny smiles wider than ever when he sees her the next day.

A while later, Tubbo’s doing Sunny’s hair. It was difficult, but he’d figured out how to do some simple danish braids with it, his hands were nimble enough for it. When he’s done, Sunny asks if they can do his hair. And, well, he’d love that, but it’s greasy and gross as fuck.

And it’s tiring, and nerve-wracking, and he has to play music louder than the water to keep his brain quiet, but he showers. Gets the grime off his scalp, uses a nice shampoo he’d been gifted at some point or another. Sunny helps him brush it out after, then puts it in pigtails. They ask him to teach them how to braid, and they practice with his hair.

it’s still sporadic, and definitely not frequent enough, but he starts taking care of himself again. He wears clean clothes most days, can shower at least every couple days. His hair still gets greasy sometimes, but if he can convince himself to get in the shower, it’s only a couple more minutes to wash his hair. He brushes his teeth at least once a day now.

he can see his friends happier around him again. Sunny looks less worried, and has a lot of fun helping him pick outfits or do his hair.

it’s still tough. He still falls asleep next to the boiler, still needs the whirring of machines to quiet his mind. But Sunny and Fit get him a sleeping bag, so at least he’s off of the bricks.

ok smthn I love SO MUCH is like. First day or two, Sunny was like. I am NOT doing work. Or getting my hands dirty. None of that. I will not go near dirt.

fast forward, like. A couple days. Now she’s constantly helping her pa with the small bits and bobs he needs for his machines, helps with the building, and does all of it without even complaining.

I’m just thinking about Sunny always having a little bit of grease on her skirt or hands, and at first she’s embarrassed about it, constantly trying to make sure she fixes it as soon as she notices.

But, well… it just ends up back on her soon enough. So she starts just fixing it at the end of the day, when she’s sure her pa’s done with work. But it does mean that she’s not infrequently seen with a bit of oil or grease or dirt on her.

And I think, at first, there’s… some moments, where someone mentions it, just teasing. Fit asks her what’s up with the stain on her shirt, or Phil teases her about her hand being greasy. And I think there’s a noticeable shift in her behaviour when it happens. She gets quiet, and a little huffy, and tugs on her pa’s shirt to get his attention before asking if they can go do something (away from here).

Tubbo notices, quietly discourages the behaviour from his friends. And it takes a while, a long time, but I think eventually, Sunny takes a little bit of pride in it. Of course they still want to look their best, and do their best to stay neat and pretty, but I think there’s a bit of pride when she realizes it’s proof that she was able to help her pa with whatever cool machine he’s building.

So now every once in a while, you’ll see her around the bakery with her pa, and there’s some dirt on their skirt from the gardening they’ve been doing around the factory grounds. Sometimes Tubbo has to remind her to wash her hands before supper, sometimes they pop up from behind one of their pa’s machines and there’s a bit of oil or grease on their cheek.

I like to think this happens hand in hand with Tubbo learning to take care of himself.