#also off duty swords and their outfits!!!!!!

[immamapletreekid]

really enjoying it so far ;w;

AJSJFKDHAJSFJDHAHSKGLDLAINANDKEKQJNCLEJQJCLWIQJCMSKAJZLF

[deathbxnny]

may i request a Yanqing x magical girl s/o head canon or one-shot please and you can decide which one you what to do also i got this idea from watching Madoka magica and magica record

Hey there, moot! I decided to make this into a longer headcanon thing with the ideas you gave me, so I hope you'll like this and thank you for your request!!<3

Content: Magical girls reader, slight angst, mentions of injuries, near death, Jing Yuan is considering retiring, fluff, sfw

Reader is asked to be female but no pronouns are mentioned!

((Not fully proofread))

You met Kyubey on a casual, normal day. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and for a moment, you thought you were dreaming when you saw the odd white cat creature happily speak to you. It asked you if you'd like to be a magical girl, and whilst the appeal of it did excite you at first, something deep down told you to decline Kyubey's offer. But unfortunately, that didn't make him go away.

Instead, he simply followed you around as you went about your duties as a healer and medic in the Xianzhou. Your abilities weren't really special nor good enough to be notable, but they got the job done for any minor injuries your boyfriend Yanqing got during training. You didn't really pay Kyubey any mind and continued to reiterate that you weren't interested, even when he claimed it could make you stronger and everyone finally appreciate and notice you the way you always secretly wanted! But alas, you weren't sure if the secret consequences that came with that were worth it.

Things changed, however, when Yanqing showed up at your doorstep gravely injured. He had been patrolling alone and got surprise attacked by a mara struck soldier. He was pierced with his sword before he could deflect the hit, and that left him with a large wound on the side of his body. You were the first and only person he thought of going to for help.

You panicked, knowing that such a massive injury was way out of your scope of fixing. But you knew it would be too late for him if you ran off to get help now. This left you with one option in your mind as you turned to Kyubey, who was calmly resting behind you, waiting. Yanqing was panting heavily and bleeding out on the floor of your home. You had no other choice. You had to make a wish and become a magical girl to save him.

And so, you wished for a strong enough healing ability to save his life.

Kyubey granted your wish happily, and after transforming into your new magical girl form, you found yourself holding a blue soul gem and spear, which seemed to be your weapon of choice from now on. You had no time to ponder either, however, as you went right to work and healed Yanqing right back to normal. He was weak and about to fall asleep by the end of it, but the confusion on his face was clear. Since when were you able to do all that?

The general was just as confused and asking the same thing when you stepped into his office with Yanqing practically being carried on your back. Your new magical girl outfit and soul gem left the man speechless, yet he decided not to question anything anymore and just be happy that Yanqing was okay.

Once said boy woke up, he definitely asked you a million questions about your new abilities and just in general how you even got to this point. He was definitely worried about the soul gem and the issues that may come with it... but he wasn't against it and instead just felt guilty that he had to make you choose such an option in the first place. He'll make it up to you by protecting you and keeping a good eye on that sly Kyubey.

[honestlyboringperson]

This alliance dissolved faster than sugar in hot water. (Persona 5 AU)

Also I know Bigb and Lizzie have similar outfits and themes and Ren is more red than Pearl, who’s codename is literally just another word for “red”. Eh, oh well.

Southlanders

Team B.E.S.T.

The Scottage + Gem

Magic Mountain + Cub

More under the cut!

Lizzie - “Flora” - The Tower Arcana - Carabosse/Persephone

Once the leader of a sorority and with sky-high academics, Lizzie has since fallen from grace after allegations of foul play were revealed. Even if Lizzie didn’t commit such actions, the label stuck and she has since been outcasted from the student body and now spends her days in the shadows, taking care of quite a few stray cats. Despite these setbacks, she still retains her gleam of authority and tries to help lead the phantom thieves, using some of her old connections & IOUs from her days as an honour student. She’s in an active and loving relationship with a certain former delinquent.

Within the metaverse, Lizzie uses Carabosse. Carabosse is more well known as “Maleficent” or the thirteenth fairy from sleeping beauty. As revenge for not being invited to a party, she curses the newborn princess to prick her finger and die, which another fairy changes to simply falling asleep after pricking her finger. I wanted to combine the two aesthetics and themes Lizzie finds herself in; cutesy fairy and supervillain mastermind.

Her Ultimate persona is Persephone. Persephone is the wife of Hades, and queen of the underworld and goddess of spring. Persephone is often equated and conflated with Despoina, who’s real name isn’t revealed to anyone but those who initiate her mysteries. She is noted to be so terrifying, one must never utter her by name out loud unless they want to catch her attention. This is heavily contrasted by the later interpretations of Persephone as a simple spring goddess.

Ren - “King” - The Emperor Arcana - Arthur/Fenrir

Ren is a prodigy actor at a local theatre, with his acting skills being matched by no one in the theatre. He specializes in dramatic characters with flowery speech and theatrical monologues, to the point whenever he’s in the metaverse, he LARPs as an Evil King. He helps hook the Phantom Thieves up with a weapons expert, who for some reason wears a goat mask 24/7. Upbeat and Loud, he and Skizz helps keep morale high in the phantom thieves. He’s very close with Martyn, despite Martyn insisting he’s just using them as pawns. Whether or not this is true or not is yet to be determined.

His persona is Arthur, namely King Arthur. He is a famed king, known for his sword Excalibur and his large entourage of knights. His story lives on through media, be it through simple books to as grand as whole stage plays. He is often portrayed as a well meaning king who defends the land from both human and supernatural threats. Although his legend has changed throughout history, his story is one bedecked by both tragedy and grandeur.

His Ultimate Persona is Fenrir, a key figure in Ragnarok and killer of Odin. A child of Loki, he and his siblings were foretold to bring the end of the universe and in Odin’s attempt to escape this prophecy, he ends up giving them the power and motives needed to enact the tragedy. In Fenrir’s case, he was brought up the wolf in their home where only Tyr had the courage to approach him to give him food, which sparked a friendship between the two. However, due to his rapid growth everyday the gods made three leg cuffs and had Tyr helped trick Fenrir into putting the cuffs on. When he realizes the trick, he bites Tyr’s hand off. In Ragnarok,he breaks free of his chains and swallow Odin whole, killing him.

BigB - “Spectre” - The Temperance Arcana - Winchester/Eshu

A velvet room attendant who is currently abandoning his duties as an Attendant in the first place. Since the new velvet room manifested, he has since been shirking his duties to explore the outside world, never really returning to the Velvet Room. He still speaks in a somewhat strange manner but is polite and charismatic, making him well liked by the people around him. He initially joins the Phantom Thieves to keep Watch of Grian, as he is aware of his true nature, but eventually finds more reasons he desires to stay. He is especially gifted with persuasive speech and helps come up with alibis for the Phantom Thieves whenever they get into shady business. He has an odd habit of exiting rooms through doors that weren’t originally there.

His persona is Winchester, both the person and the mansion. Sarah Winchester was the wife of the inventor of the Winchester rifle. After she was widowed, she was told she would be haunted by those whose lives were stolen by the rifle her husband created. In order to prevent the ghosts from harming her as well as to possibly contact the ghosts of her lost loved ones, she turned her farmhouse into a strange, maze like mansion with doors and windows that lead to nowhere, stairs that end in ceilings, trapdoors, and barred windows.

His Ultimate Persona is Eshu or Èṣù, a Yoruba Orisha who specializes in divination and acts as a messenger between heaven and earth. He was known to have tricked Ifa out of his secrets of divination, and another where he frees Ifa from his imprisonment within a palm tree and casts him as a founder of the Ifa religion.

[mango-bango-bby]

For your fantasy 🌺 with platonic prince todoroki. Like your Guard Izuku baby sister and you want to be just like your older brother and protect the royal family. Todoroki Shoto just sees you, such a little girl that so determined that he can’t just not love you as a little sister. Prince Shoto won’t lie, your his favorite guard(even though you are only like 6 and can’t fight yet but he doesn’t care) , and he will protect you at all costs. You carry around a mini sword and he just melts at your cuteness.

♡ Small Guard ♡

(A/N: Ahhh writing all these fantasy au’s makes me want to be a fantasy princess so bad 😭 I’ve actually loved writing all of them though, it’s really fun 💘💞)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, prince!Shoto, Big brother Izuku, platonic yandere, this isn’t the best but I tried I wasn’t really to inspired 😭😭

Summary: Shoto finds you crying after being told you’re to young to be a guard (Platonic!Yan!Todoroki x GN!child!reader)

Prompt List ➸ ♡

Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You wanted to a guard so bad. Your older brother was a higher up guard in the castle, and you wanted to be just like him, you wanted to protect the kingdom!

Your older brother, Izuku, didn’t exactly approve of being a guard but he knew that you were just a child and wanted to play as if you were a real guard. The royal family knew that as well, often letting you pretend that you ere a guard. Especially Prince Shoto.

You absolutely loved him, he was definitely your favorite member of the royal family. You often went out to find him, pretending to guard him while he was doing something as simple as reading in the library or sitting in his throne. He didn’t mind it though, seeing you as a little sister.

Although, strangely enough he hasn’t seen you today. Shoto couldn’t lie, he was a little worried. Not seeing you for a full day was uncommon and it was only natural for him to worry a bit. You were his favorite guard after all. Shoto stops at the sound of small sniffles. He turns the corner, seeing you barely as you’re hiding behind a throne in the empty throne room.

Shoto is going to talk but is cut off by the sight of you softly crying behind the throne. You wore a fake guard outfit made of materials you could easily find, pots and pans on your shoulders and a basket on your head to mimic a guard’s uniform. “Y/n, why are you back here?” Shoto asks simply, watching you get startled a bit from his sudden appearance.

You look back, bringing your knees up to your chest. “One of the new guards told me I wasn’t a real guard and that couldn’t be one” you mumble. The castle had had a couple of new guards in training in the building recently.

It seems one of these new guards didn’t get the memo not to mess with you. Izuku was one of the highest trained guards and the leader of many of the armies. And Shoto was incredibly protective over you, which the new guard also didn’t exactly know.

Shoto sighs before sitting down on the marble floor next to you. “You are a real guard, don’t worry about what another guard says. I’m the prince and I say, you’re a real guard” He’s says, knowing he’s saying that just to make you feel better. He would never let you do any actual guard duties. But he would never want to hurt your feelings or make you upset.

You nod your head, still keeping your knees to your chest. “What if I get you a specially made uniform? Then you won’t be told that again” Shoto asks, seeing you finally look up, that sparkle back in your eye. “Really? A real uniform?” You ask, Shoto nodding at you to your bright smile.

“Can I have a sword too?!” You say, anxiously waiting to know because you really want a sword. Shoto smiles a bit, knowing that he would never allow to have a real sword.

Shoto would never put you in danger.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

[missveryvery]

I want to know wtf is going to happen with the dub of ep 4 *_* in the meantime, while I wait to know how high to turn my anger dial, Ep 5 thoughts under cut.

So many tiny things!

I yelled when Shi Qingxuan landed and his arms were so jacked, holy shit, what?!??!?! He's so BIG.

I thought Hua Cheng swinging his sword around looked awkward ;0; but all the other weapon usage looked good?! Why was e'ming animated at 2 frames a second ;0;?! That's e'ming secret power, lowering the frame rate.

The little twitch in Ming Yi's hand really made it seem like Shi Qingxuan started fighting because he was mad Ming-xiong was hurt instead of just practicality. LOVE THAT.

Xie Lian gripping Shi Qingxuan so hard it left marks ;0;?!?! Xie Lian loves Shi Qingxuan? Must protecc him? ;0;?!?? They're such cute little friends.

Feng Xin being the god on duty and coming before merits were even used. Immediately dropping his hesitation about speaking to him when Xie Lian is hurt.

Mu Qing rolling in like a huge bitch "so what if he's hurt, we all get hurt on patrol >:V" like he's NOT WRONG. Probably, if Xie Lian was any other god Feng Xin would be less freaked out. Mu Qing continually gets pissed off when Feng Xin falls into loyal dog mode. Which is actually him being pissed off at himself for falling back into loyal dog (cat) mode. He loves bitching at people for doing something stupid and then doing it himself right afterwards. Which is exactly what he's going to do in the next episode (assuming it follows the book, the manhua left that part out). "What are you looking so concerned for? >:V *is there, also being concerned*"

We finally got real dialogue out of these two, jfc.

Mu Qing healing Ming Yi!!! And picking him up!! Touching his chest!! A++++!!! Were those 4 dudes who carried Ming Yi away supposed to be his? I wouldn't think so except they made Mu Qing get so handsy there and their outfits reminded me of his blueberry boys from season 1.

Mu Qing looking manic about the idea of Xie Lian killing the royal family! in the book, I thought maybe this was the narrator misunderstanding his facial expression but they really did make him look fucking excited about it. So if he IS thrilled, I'm guessing this is "oh sweet, he got revenge!"? On the other hand, when Xie Lian fesses up to it, he seems as shocked and horrified as Shi Qingxuan and Feng Xin?

So:

He's pleased he got revenge then changed his mind about being pleased once they got the details and then was freaked out

He's pleased Xie Lian is being accused of something fucked up but doesn't think he'd actually do it so he's freaked out that he did

He's pleased he did it, loves that for him, and is freaked out Xie Lian admitted it because he'd prefer he get away with it

He wasn't pleased in the first place and that was just his fucked up facial expressions

(Ohhh he has eyeliner now!!!)

Shi Qingxuan catching Taihua's sword with his whisk, why is he so rad. I love that he thinks in practical, social terms, he considers consequences. "If Hua Cheng hassles you about this, make sure you blame me, it's all my fault" "throwing out merits is way more effective" "you two weren't going to do anything so let me be the bad guy".

[bladiegfs]

Hii!!! May i request how it feels like getting in a relationship with fu xuan or just anything that includes her? i just read ur fics that had fu xuan in it and im literally in love shsjssj🫶🫶🫶 theres not much fu xuan x reader and im craving for people to write it more huhu😿

thank YOU for reading!!! i love love love fu xuan too and have been closely following news about her since beta last year :sob: u will be reading more about her in my blog in the future

close to you

➵ hcs of what it's like to be in a relationship with fu xuan!

➵ warning(s) applicable: none

⇢ Fu Xuan is a busy woman— she’s a so-called bigshot of the Loufu, admired and feared by many.

⇢ But when it comes to you, Fu Xuan is much more lax and even borderlining on soft. While she can be quite authoritative, she find it quite difficult to say no when you ask for just ‘one more kiss, please?’ when she’s supposed to be on a rush back to her office.

⇢ Fu Xuan’s not that used to verbally expression her affection towards you. She finds herself turning into an embarrassing shade of red as she stammers out compliments.

⇢ Oh, but the same thing happens when you openly declaring your love for her; she’s unable to meet your eyes and be at a loss for words.

⇢ She tries to make up for her lack of ability of being vocal through actions and gifts. When she finds some items that remind her of you, she quickly whips out her wallet to buy it and would look forward to giving it to you by the end of the day.

⇢ She’s also the type to leave you some notes– which she likes to call tips– that vaguely hint what could be happening in the day. It’ll read something like “avoid the emerald starskiff this morning. A child will wail the entire trip,” or “avoid the general’s retainer lest you want to be whisked into talking about swords for half an hour.”

⇢ Dates with her are simple most of the time; she’s used to fancy settings due to her position, and they tend to remind her of tiring formal diners frequently.

⇢ That isn’t to say that she never brings you to fancy dinners. She’d sometimes surprise you by booking a table on anniversaries. Oh, but what about your outfit, you ask? Well, she’s taken care of that as well. She loves to spoil you as much as she can, of course.

⇢ Whenever she gets her leave, she spends her days with you. She’d talk (and complain) about her work, the things she’s recently seen, her plans, her subordinate who ‘loves to slack off’, and the general whose retirement she anxiously prays over.

⇢ She can sometimes end up talking your ear off— she’s used to people reacting to her words with stifled yawns or bored expressions, but when you show keen interest in her words, it makes her all the more happier. 

⇢ There’s nothing she loves more than simply being able to be in your presence. Duty calls urgently and frequently most of the time, and so she savors every second spent with you.

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Eight: A Murder Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 11.9k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, talks of death, nosey birds, Moland is a lot of fun to write about, (sorta) theft, home sickness, magic, crying, reader is lonely, new character introduced, creepy monsters, talk of death, nightmares, very tame A/N: Our adventure has officially begun. I'm so excited to show off some of Lustra outside of Bangtan! Be prepared for a lot of angst from here on out. Thanks for reading :)

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I blinked, trying to shield my eyes from the invasive sunlight slicing through the room. My body felt like it was made of lead, each muscle protesting as I forced myself upright. The sun had just begun its ascent, painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. Soon, the others would wake, and Moland's hunters would pick up my trail. Time was my enemy.

Thelma's house, usually a sanctuary, now felt like a trap. Would I be able to return after this was all over? Would they hate me for leaving? Questions with no answers haunted me as I rose, wincing at the crack of my joints. Sleeping on floor cots was a necessity in the swamp; anything else invited mold and worse. I stretched, my back groaning in protest, and went in search of sustenance. Thelma always had food stashed somewhere.

The fridge was stocked with cured meats, a testament to Thelma's culinary prowess. But my stomach churned at the thought. I wasn't about to change my vegetarian ways, not now. Mi-Jeong’s noodles danced in my memory, a comforting reminder. I found some grapes, hidden away like treasures in the cold box. Perfect.

I ate the grapes slowly, savoring each bite as I prepared my bag. The weight of Moland's proximity pressed on me; I needed to put distance between us quickly. The swamp's cacophony was a welcome distraction, louder than the forest's oppressive silence. Most predators were still asleep, granting me a temporary reprieve. I charmed my items, readying myself for the journey ahead.

Flying would be faster, but daylight was a double-edged sword. I had no choice. I needed to move. The grapes, now warm and less appealing, were still a better option than hunger. I knew Moland well enough to navigate its treacherous paths, but beyond lay the unknown. Quietus territory promised fewer encounters with elves, but there were other dangers.

Shifting form, I felt the discomfort of my bag's straps against my wings, my trousers rubbing irritatingly against my feathers. I needed to find a more practical outfit for flying. My mind wandered to Jimin. By now, he would be awake, brooding over his tea. Would he come looking for me? Doubtful. The village would soon realize my absence. Sol and Bo would be the first to panic, their reactions predictable.

After a few hours of flying, I decided to get some rest and spotted a massive tree with large leaves protecting me from the sun.

It was an old oak tree, its branches thick and twisting around one another, and its roots so large and strong I could only guess how far they stretched. I hated being a bird more than I thought I would. All of my senses were elevated and I spooked easily. The way my clothes fit was uncomfortable. The way the wind felt against my feathers was starting to annoy me, and that had always been my favorite part of flying. Still, I did not want to risk shifting unless absolutely necessary. I could not fight a group of elves alone.

Growing hungry I spared a few minutes to look for berries. I had always been a great forager and Jin had been a wonderful teacher. On days Yoongi was too busy at home and could not come out to play, I found myself playing survivor with the older boy deeper in the forest. He pointed out poison ivy, showed me how to spot poisonous leaves and berries, and how to make a fire from rocks and sticks. Back then, I thought Jin was much cooler than Yoongi, and I liked his humor a lot more. That faded with time and in just a year’s time Yoongi was back to being my favorite. When Wendy joined our trio it only drew the kitchen witch and I closer together. Whenever the sea witch was around Jin was more insufferable than normal.

Finding a large line of chokeberry shrubs, I landed on the ground and decided to take a risk and shift. I never liked eating when I was a bird. It felt uncivilized and I could use the break to stretch a bit. Body growing, I sighed in relief and stretched. My shoulder blades cracked making me groan.

They were slightly sweet, tart berries that I adored. Jin and I would typically have to sneak away to find them since they only grew in Moland. Back in Bangtan, it was far more common to see strawberries, blueberries, and mulberries. Around the Bagtan-Moland border we would get lucky and find cloudberry bushes, but they were so rare to get our hands on that we never picked enough to bring home. They were the most delicious wildberries in the area, so sweet and tart, a mixture of a raspberry and a red currant, but with a slight floral aftertaste that made them addicting. The chokeberries paled in comparison, but I still enjoyed myself.

Taking off my bag, I pulled out a bunch of grapes and popped a few in my mouth. I savored their flavor. Thelma always had the most delicious grapes at her house and I wanted to save them in case I found myself in a pinch. Placing the bunch back in the bag, I went back to eating the chokeberries and humming to myself. I needed to find a stream and get rehydrated. A good bath would also do me some good. I was already covered in a thin layer of dirt from the flight.

Fingers stained red, I sucked the juice from my fingertips and swiped the moisture off on my top. Cupping my mouth, I sang a bird song and waited. I was confident enough that I was alone. I had already been here for fifteen minutes and had yet to hear a peep. A few moments later I heard the gentle warble of a marsh bird calling back to me.

“Can you help me find a stream?” I asked, my song much sweeter and gentler in my human form. It had always struck me as odd how differently I sounded as a woman. “I’m on a trip and feeling quite nasty.”

The yellow-rumped marsh bird came into sight. He was a male, his size and the brightness of his yellow belly giving it away, and I smiled at him. It was hard to know if we had met before but I guessed not. They would have recognized my call.

“Hello stranger,” The bird greeted. “Are you lost?”

I shook my head, “Not really. I have a general idea but I’ve not been this far north before.”

The bird regarded me for a moment before speaking.

“What’s your name?”

Taking a deep breath, I hesitated answering. If, by any chance, the others were looking for me and stumbled across the bird already he could easily bring them to me. However, I was never a fan of lying to the animals. It could come back to bite me later and I liked keeping as many options open as possible.

“Y/N,” I replied, not adding in my title. It was of no importance and could make him feel awkward. It was a big deal, after all. “And you are?”

“Hmm,” He cocked his head to the side and I could see his mind working. “I’m Dash, my master’s name is Marie. She said someone is looking for you, girl.”

Flushing, I was taken aback by the news. If word has managed to travel this far up that would mean the entire forest was on the lookout for me. I would have to proceed with caution from now on. I could not afford a slip up.

“Don’t worry,” Dash fluttered his wings to take flight once more. “I have no interest in giving you away. We northerners quite like to mind our own business. Just thought you should know word’s going ‘round.”

Nodding, I stood and dusted off my trousers.

“Thank you, Dash. I appreciate the help.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” The bird flew around my head. “In exchange for my silence I would like a bunch of those grapes. My master is fond of them.”

So much for minding their own business. With great sadness, I gave away my other bunch of grapes. With a final nod in the direction he wanted me to go, Dash flew off the grapes weighing him down.

“Well,” I sighed. “Should probably pick some of these berries.”

Digging through my bag, I pulled out one of my spare shirts and used it to wrap the berries so they would not get too squished. I would have to deal with the stains whenever I had better options. After stripping the rest of the shrub I had been eating from, I carefully placed the shirt back into my bag and started off toward the water Dash promised me.

I would have to manage my expectations. I was in a swamp, afterall, and they were not known for crystal clear and clean water. In fact, I would have to be on the lookout for alligators. Enver was a fan of wrestling with the reptiles out in the marsh, but I was always creeped out by cold, wet things. I would have to be on even higher alert than I had been before.

I walked twenty minutes east before I finally found myself at a treeline surrounding a huge marsh. I would not be able to walk anymore without fearing I would simply slip through the grass. The further I got, the less likely I would be able to walk. After that it was tall grasses and water. Taking in the view, I was happy to see birds and small rodents all around me. At least I would not be alone.

Stepping out of the trees, I caught the attention of a small family of rabbits who quickly scattered. Up above, a few birds spoke to one another about me. It would seem that they, much like Dash, were unaware of who I was. No one suspected that I was a shifter, or that I would be able to understand a word they said. With the hot sun beating down on my face, I quickly started to strip my clothes.

“Where do you think she’s from?” One of the birds asked.

“Looks like one of those witches,” Another answered. “Only a witch would be foolish enough to go swimming in snake infested waters.”

“Ha,” Someone else squawked. “Pot calling the kettle black!”

“Poor thing,” Said the only girl in their little group. “Pretty as a peach, I reckon. I wonder what’s happened to her.”

Deciding that I have heard enough of their gossiping, I pointed my face to the sky and sighed dramatically.

“Don’t you lot have anything better to do?”

A silence fell over the birds. All four of them paused their playing to look at me, and I could feel the nervousness radiating off of the female. Looking between one another and then back at me, one-by-one each of them slowly made their way out of the sky and perched onto a nearby tree. I rolled my eyes and started to fold my clothes. The sun felt nice against my skin but I wanted to get in the water all ready. The birds seemed to gather their thoughts just as my feet hit the shoreline.

“What are you?” one of the birds asked, breaking the spell.

Ignoring them, I continued to wash, the water murky but refreshing. My thoughts drifted to the journey ahead. Danger lurked in every shadow, but I had no choice. I had to keep moving, keep surviving.

As I finished, I looked around, the swamp's noise a constant reminder of the world I was leaving behind. With one last glance at Thelma's house, I took to the sky, determined to outfly the shadows of Moland.

“Hey!” Pip’s voice sliced through the swamp’s murmur, harsh and grating. I turned, annoyance simmering beneath my skin. “You didn’t answer my question.

“Maggie, lay off,” Pip shot back, his tone defiant. Maggie’s scolding fluttered away like a discarded leaf.

Scrubbing the muck from my skin, I figured a brief answer might quiet the incessant crows. The last thing I needed was more attention drawn to me. The swamp was quiet, but not so quiet as to hide the lurking dangers. The thought of oversized snakes slithering in the murky waters made my skin crawl.

“I’m a shifter,” I said, my voice flat and edged with impatience.

“Oh,” Earl’s laugh rumbled, deep and unsettling. “Should’ve guessed. I’m Earl.”

“Margeret,” Maggie chimed in, bowing her head with an air of exaggerated politeness, as if she’d just stepped out of a Northorn court. “This is Floyd, my beloved, and Price, his brother.”

I hummed a noncommittal response, eager to escape the swamp's oppressive humidity and the crows’ probing questions. The longer I lingered, the greater the risk of a snake bite or worse. I debated whether to get my hair wet, the thought making me shiver.

Pip wasn’t done. “What’s your name, shifter?”

“Nixie,” I said, the name slipping out before I could stop it. I winced, relieved that my face remained hidden. Why Wendy’s sister’s name surfaced, I didn’t know, but it was too late to change course. I had to make it work.

Maggie’s shrill laugh grated on my nerves. “From the shore, are ya? Named after water nymphs, I suppose?”

I was taken aback. These birds were sharper than they let on. The sea coven named their girls after water spirits, and Nixie fit the bill. I hadn’t expected crows to be so knowledgeable about such things.

“Yes,” I said, relieved they were building my backstory for me.

“What brings you out here?” Pip’s question broke through my thoughts.

I trudged out of the water, feet sinking into the sticky mud, feeling the cloying discomfort with every step. I glanced at the crows, considering how best to craft a story that would satisfy their curiosity without revealing too much. The swamp’s whispers seemed to echo the urgency of my situation.

“The elves destroyed my home,” I said, grabbing my damp clothes. “I’ve been wandering and hoping to find my way to Whopping to warn my sister.”

“Bless your heart,” Maggie cooed, her accent thick with the same twang as Thelma’s. “We heard about the raids. Foxglove Village nearly burned down, they said.”

“A friend mentioned the guardian witch broke her curse,” Floyd added.

I kept my face impassive, hiding my surprise. The crows were more in the know than I’d anticipated. I was uncomfortable with their conversation but tried to remain polite.

“Watch yourself,” Earl advised, peering eastward. “Seen a lot of camps ‘round here.”

“If I were you,” Pip added, “I’d ditch that bag. It’ll make you stand out.”

Maggie scrutinized my bag with a critical eye. “Big thing must weigh a ton. Don’t know how you manage.”

I forced a weary smile. “I’ll leave it behind when I find a safe place to stash my stuff.”

Floyd’s excitement was palpable. “Stop by Mama Jean’s in Magnolia. She can help with directions and maybe feed you.”

“Don’t risk it,” Earl interjected quickly. “Mama Jean’s deep in the bayou. There’s dangers beyond just elves.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said, her tone dripping with condescension. “Some witches aren’t fond of newcomers. You’ll be defenseless.”

“She’d probably figure out a way to kill you twice if you lied,” Pip joked, a smirk in his voice. “Best to fly straight through. Sleep in a tree and keep moving.”

I nodded, absorbing their advice. I didn’t want to draw any more attention, but their insights were useful. I glanced at the setting sun, knowing I’d need to find a place to camp.

Maggie offered a final gesture. “If you need us to pass on any messages, just say so. We’re headed south to escape the violence.”

Touched by their willingness to help, I decided to part with my last bunch of grapes. Maggie and Floyd protested, but Earl, ever the opportunist, accepted them with glee.

“If you can,” I said, “find someone named Kim Seokjin in Foxglove. He’s a witch who talks to animals. If not, his mother and aunt, Hoji and Heji.”

“What’s a witch doing with wolves?” Pip asked.

“Safety,” I replied briefly. “After the attack, we sought refuge.”

“Let her finish,” Floyd scolded.

“Tell him, ‘Birdie is fine,’” I said, “and what you know about the elf camps.”

“‘Birdie’? Sounds juvenile,” Maggie complained.

I laughed, a bittersweet sound. There was a time when those names were a part of me, when magic and laughter were constants. Now, nostalgia mingled with the ache of loss. I missed them all—Yoongi, Jimin, my old life.

I missed them terribly.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” I said, my voice cracking with the weight of old memories. “No one knows I’ve left. I just want them to know I’m okay and to be careful.”

“Brave girl,” Earl commented, his beak dripping with grape juice. “We’ll head that way tonight. Should reach there by morning. We need to swing by a friend’s place first. Elves have been causing all sorts of trouble for witches.”

“Of course,” I agreed quickly, a hidden surge of relief flooding me. The extra time to escape the swamp was a gift. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Pip grunted, snagging a grape for himself.

“We birds stick together,” Earl added, his tone more solemn.

I chuckled, their camaraderie starting to grow on me. As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, I knew it was time for me to move. The river was still a distant hope, and the thought of hauling the bag any longer made me ache. The bag’s weight seemed to bear down on me more than I’d anticipated. My fear of exposure gnawed at me. If the elves knew I was out here, alone and vulnerable, they could use it against me. I could almost hear the whispers of my enemies in the dark corners of my mind.

“I should get going,” I sighed, bracing myself to carry the burden again. “Thanks again for everything.”

“Thanks for the grapes, honey,” Maggie said with a grin. “Stay safe. Hope we cross paths again someday.”

I smiled at her. “I’m sure I can find you.”

Taking a deep breath, I set the bag down and began to shift. My clothes fell away in a heap, and it took some fumbling to extricate myself from the pile of fabric. The crows watched, their beady eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and awe. I used my beak to open my sack and stuffed the clothes inside. I’d only shift to ease the burden of the bag, so the clothes wouldn’t be needed for a while.

“We’re kin,” Pip joked, “Glad to see something besides a wolf pull that off.”

“Too bad I’m the bigger cousin,” I teased, gripping the bag’s strap with my talons.

“Probably older, too,” Earl cracked. “Too bad we could kick your tail if we really tried.”

“Safety in numbers,” I agreed, though I couldn’t help feeling a pang of envy for their flock. “Too bad I don’t have my own. Where’s the rest of your murder?”

“Leeside,” Maggie replied. “You might run into some of them. They’re usually not friendly, so if you mention us, they might back off.”

After a few more pleasantries and warnings, along with detailed directions to the Syrena River, I took off. The bag’s weight made flying awkward, and I grimaced as it jostled against my back. Maggie and Earl’s kindness was a balm, while Pip and Floyd continued to devour the grapes. I had managed to get rid of them, even if it was a bit more effort than I’d planned. Cordelia would have scolded me for being so sentimental.

Lost in thought, I nearly crashed into a tree, barely swerving in time. The memory of Cordelia struck me like a blow. Her eyes, cold and distant, haunted me. The weight of her small body, the dirt-streaked hair clinging to her face, and the fire’s consuming heat pressed on me like a physical force. The acrid smell of soot and ash filled my senses, forcing me to the ground in frustration.

Dropping the bag, I landed with a heavy thud. Shifting back, I panted, my grief and despair overwhelming me. The forest around me was eerily silent. The cicadas’ electric hum and the songbirds’ melodies were replaced by a stifling quiet, more oppressive than the Bangtan forests. The absence of sound was a stark reminder of my isolation. I wrapped my arms around my bare shoulders, letting the tears flow freely. I knew I had no time for this—elves could be nearby at any moment—but the weight of my sorrow was too heavy to bear alone.

The silence pressed in on me, the only hope for solace lying in the distant promise of the frogs’ crooning when night fell. But that was a long way off. The darkness would come soon, and I had miles to fly before I’d be near another body of water.

I wiped my face, telling myself that at least the crows would keep the worry at bay for now. It was the only consolation I could muster. Never had I felt such foolishness for leaving so impulsively. I was so wrapped up in everyone else’s troubles that I hadn’t stopped to think about the chaos I’d wrought on myself, or how it would hurt them. Jimin’s words echoed in my mind, a relentless whisper that made me crumble to my knees. He was right. I was tangled in my own self-pity, blind to how my actions were tearing him apart. This wasn’t an act of love; it was selfishness.

I could barely stand myself. My tears came hot and relentless, leaving wet trails on my cheeks. My frustration boiled over into anger. I slammed my hands against the dirt, the force of my rage almost feeling like a physical entity. I wanted to fight something, anything. My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms, I bit down on my tongue until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I swung at a nearby tree, feeling the sting as my knuckles collided with the rough bark. The pain was a dull roar but enough to snap me out of my spiral.

Trembling, I took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to steady myself. My hands shook uncontrollably, the knuckles already darkening with bruises, blood oozing from the small cracks in the skin. The anger ebbed away, replaced by guttural sobs that shook my entire body.

I wanted to go home, but where was home now? My cottage was a ruin, the palace felt like an empty shell, and Mi-Jeong’s house was no refuge with Ji-Hyun there. Even Jimin’s place, once a haven, now seemed tainted by the knowledge of how he saw me. I was adrift, unmoored, with no place to return to.

As I struggled to breathe, memories of the past came crashing back with startling clarity. I remembered a night filled with regret and anger. Aldara and I had a screaming match the day before. I couldn’t even recall the cause—defensive magic, or some petty argument we often had. When I showed up for breakfast the next morning, she had prepared a feast, an olive branch I refused to acknowledge. I had been too stubborn to listen, too angry to see her genuine attempt to make amends. I stormed out, leaving the food untouched, the cold plate a symbol of my petulance.

Yoongi was my refuge that day. We sat in the forest as I vented my frustrations. He’d called me melodramatic, and I’d insisted I was standing up for myself. Jin and Wendy found us later, and together we walked to Syrena. On the beach outside Wendy's house, I let my anger manifest in bursts of flames that danced across the sea. Jin’s jealousy as he asked to see my fire was a vivid memory, his voice tinged with awe.

Fire had always been my domain. I wielded it like an artist, creating flames that burned blue with heat. It was the one thing I excelled at, praised by Aldara with a spark of pride in her eye. But now, the furnace within me lay cold. The joy and mastery I once felt had been extinguished by the wolves’ attack.

I lifted my hands and inspected them, feeling a strange disconnect. Fire had never harmed my skin before. I took a deep breath and pressed my palms into the dirt, my voice a soft murmur as I wove a spell. The earth responded, encasing my hands and arms in a protective layer. It sought out the blisters, cooling them as it climbed up my body. The spell ended, and the dirt fell away, leaving no trace behind. I wiped my face and stood, relieved to see that my old magic still worked, if imperfectly. The burns were less noticeable, a small victory.

“Egnis,” I commanded, raising my hand. A small, lackluster flame appeared above my fingers. It was nothing like the vibrant, dancing fire I once controlled. It flickered weakly, a poor shadow of what it had been. I felt ashamed.

“Hello,” I greeted the ember. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you.”

The flame offered no response, its silence a stark reminder of how distant I had become from my own power.

“I’ll try to do better,” I promised. “I think we’ll need each other again. I’m not great at fighting without you, and these spells drain me too much.”

The flame remained still. With a sigh, I let it extinguish. The sun was low, casting long shadows, and night was approaching fast. I enchanted my bag and slung it over my shoulder, shifting into my other form. It was easier to bear the transformation without clothes.

I kept low, weaving through the trees. I was out of my element, and the dense forest made navigation treacherous. Flying higher would risk losing my way. Speeding through the thick foliage, I knew I wouldn’t outrun the setting sun. I’d have to stop sooner than I hoped. At least, I thought, I’d be far enough from home. No one would be coming for me.

It was a bitter thought, but I reminded myself they’d probably searched for me all day. They wouldn’t come this far north because of the elves, but they would have looked. My foolishness had put me in this predicament. I should have waited, stayed, understood better. But I hadn’t. Now I was alone in a darkening forest, surrounded by the threat of elves, and feeling more lost than ever.

The one silver lining was that I was alone. The hymns of the ielfen wouldn’t do me any good now; they were mere noise against the cold reality of my predicament. But their songs weren’t their only weapon. They had numbers, and if fatigue got the better of me, I was done for. I needed to bolster my endurance and overcome my aversion to fire. There was no room for melodrama or sentiment in the face of such raw, unrelenting danger.

As night draped itself over the forest like a thick, suffocating blanket, I began my search for a suitable tree to crash in. It wasn’t the first time I’d slept as a bird or perched on a branch, but it was the first time I’d attempted both at once. Back in my younger days, I had reveled in sleeping outside. But then, I hadn’t yet learned the art of shifting, and even when I did, I’d never allowed myself to sleep in that form.

Exhaustion clawed at me as I fought to keep my eyes open. I needed to find a place to land soon. I was lost, but I kept northeast as Earl had instructed. Once I was clear of the tree line, I’d know if I’d followed his directions properly. Ancola, with its red mud and sparse life, would be my guide. A small desert marked the northern border, the only one in Lustra, and would signal if I was on track. If I veered off course, the snow would alert me, and if I went too far north, the tall, thick grass would ensnare me like a labyrinth. I was confident I’d find my way back if I got lost.

When I finally landed on a branch, the pain was immediate and unforgiving. It was an uncomfortable necessity on the road to Ozryn. Complaining wouldn’t change anything. I wrestled my now-tiny bag from my back and secured it on a smaller branch that jutted out from my perch. Once it was steady, I closed my eyes and let myself drift into a fitful sleep.

Morning came with the sun’s harsh rays stabbing at my eyes. I didn’t feel too stiff yet, but I knew that would change once I shifted back. Digging my nose into my bag, still hanging nearby, I fished out a berry, contemplating whether it was safe to shift in this strange place.

“Comfortable, little firefly?”

The voice startled me, and I let out a loud, panicked caw. My feathers fluffed up, my throat hackles extended, and I scanned the area for the source of the voice. Nothing. Not even a bug. Frustration turned into fear as I clicked my tongue, a sharp, echoing sound that ricocheted through the forest. By the twelfth click, the voice came again, and I snapped my bill shut, fluffing my feathers more.

“No need for that, child. You’re sitting on me, after all.”

That gave me pause. I was sure I’d fallen asleep in a tree. Yet here I was, confronted with the impossible. In Bangtan, it was rare for the ielfen to grant permission for someone to rest on them, but it was the only explanation I could come up with. Curious and apprehensive, I slipped my bag onto my back and took flight.

“It’s not every day I have a visitor,” the tree spoke again, “especially a little hybrid like yourself.”

It was an ordinary oak tree—or so it appeared. There was no reason it should know I was a hybrid or understand my language. Yet, here it was, talking without a mouth. I blinked, incredulous.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” I said, weary and confused. “I didn’t realize you were… animated.”

The tree laughed, its leaves rustling with the force. “Offended? Oh, my dear, quite the opposite!”

Suddenly, the tree began to move. Its branches twisted and shed their leaves, the trunk splitting down the middle to reveal a pair of long, spindly legs. I flapped away in terror as the once-normal tree transformed into a towering, humanoid figure. It loomed above the treetops, its face now visible.

“I can’t remember the last time I had such a delightful morning,” the tree-man boomed, his voice echoing through the forest.

I winced and flew up to meet him. His body was covered in moss and leaves, his skin dark and bark-like, with fungi sprouting from his feet. He was lanky and rough, with no discernible joints. He resembled a Ghillie Dhu, but I needed to see his face to be certain.

“Ah,” he sighed, stretching his enormous arms skyward. “It feels so wonderful to stretch out again. Been like this for years!”

The Ghillie Dhu’s loud voice would attract every living creature in the forest if he kept it up. I broke through the canopy to face him directly. His bright green eyes were kind, his face rugged yet strangely beautiful, with a nose that was slightly too long and pointed. Satisfied with my assessment, I tried to figure out how to shrink him back to a manageable size. After all, he was a fairy.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ghillie Dhu,” I said softly, “but could you lower your voice? There are elves nearby.”

The Ghillie Dhu’s eyes darkened, his grin fading. In an instant, I was enveloped in darkness. I flew, colliding with something cold and wooden. The scent of mildew was comforting. The creature was holding me.

The space around me shrank until I was set down. Disoriented, I shook my head and flew around a few times. I heard the Ghillie Dhu creaking and groaning nearby. At least we were now better hidden. I couldn’t believe any elf patrols hadn’t already discovered us.

“And you are?” the ielfen asked, the creaking stopping.

“I’m the Bridd,” I introduced myself, flying closer.

In his current form, he looked much more beautiful, his skin smooth and free of imperfections. His nose was still long and pointed, his eyes green, but the fungi had vanished. His hair was an odd dark green, spiked like leaves, and patches of moss covered his body. He almost looked familiar.

“I know,” he said with a smile, his bubbly personality returning. “It’s wonderful to see you again. I don’t recall you being a bird last time we spoke.”

I recognized him now. He was the fairy who had helped us when we thought Jin was trapped in a fairy circle. Elated to see a familiar face, my heavy heart lightened.

“My name is Isylwin,” he said with a courteous nod. “Forest guide. What brings you here, little firefly?”

“I’m on an adventure,” I replied. “Elves have started attacking Lustra, and I’m trying to get aid back to Bangtan. Flight is the fastest way out of Moland.”

The darkness returned to his features. The long-standing feud between elves and ielfen was well-known, a bitter conflict dating back over forty thousand years. No one knew the exact cause, but legends spoke of an elven king’s vengeful act against a water nymph. Isylwin seemed unaware of the current elf presence until now.

“That’s troubling,” he said thoughtfully. “We must warn my brothers immediately. They need to prepare for a fight.”

He gestured to my small form with a kind smile. “You may shift. I’ll ensure no harm comes to you, firefly.”

Embarrassed by the nickname, I ducked my head and put some distance between us. Landing on the forest floor, I removed my bag and fished out some clothes. I wasn’t keen on being naked in front of the fairy. Seemingly unaware of my discomfort, Isylwin waited expectantly.

“Would you mind looking away?” I asked, feeling self-conscious.

“Oh,” Isylwin chuckled and turned his back. His thick moss and leaf covering meant he had no need for clothes, which eased my nerves slightly. “My apologies. I haven’t been around many women.”

Trusting his word, I shifted and quickly dressed. My bag and its contents grew in size, and I slung it over my shoulder. With another body nearby, my confidence was bolstered. Two were better than one in a fight.

“I’m decent,” I said, clearing my throat. “You can turn around.”

Isylwin was immense, towering even over the wolves. He looked slender and fragile, but I knew better. Ielfen were formidable fighters, their cunning and tricks making them difficult to gauge. I was certain Isylwin was using glamor to appear more human, but it could vanish in an instant. Ghillie Dhus were among the most gentle fairies, but stories of their power were legendary. My friend could easily dispatch an elf if provoked.

“So interesting,” he mused to himself. “Humans age so differently from us.”

“I’m sorry?” I raised an eyebrow.

“You look like a woman now,” he said, “when I was expecting a child. Is that normal for your kind?”

Baffled, I shrugged. “We mature faster than you do, if that’s what you’re asking. It slows once we reach adulthood. I’m not human, so I can’t say if there’s a difference.”

“Fascinating,” he said as if I had unveiled some cosmic truth. “Forget that—” he waved dismissively, “—we must find my brothers and alert them about these elves.”

He grabbed my hand, twirled around, and started walking. I pulled away, confused and alarmed. Isylwin looked at me, his head cocked. I wasn’t sure how to explain my hesitation without seeming selfish. I almost felt guilty for stopping him. Almost.

"I can’t afford to go off track," I stammered, nerves fraying at the edges. "I've got a family waiting for me, counting on me to get to Naida."

The moment I mentioned Naida, the tension eased in Isylwin’s eyes, replaced by a kind of understanding that made his earlier confusion vanish. There was a shared mission here, a common goal, and I had to trust in his capacity for empathy. He'd helped me before, and if he was as reliable as I hoped, he’d help me again. At the very least, he’d make a formidable ally if things turned nasty.

"Don’t be afraid," Isylwin’s voice was soft, almost soothing as he regarded me. "I’ll help you reach Clarcton. The rest will have to wait."

"Will they be angry with me?" I asked, my voice tinged with anxiety. The last thing I needed was to be blacklisted by his kin. I would follow Isylwin’s lead if it came to that, but it wasn’t my preferred option.

"No," he shook his head emphatically. "We’re fair, if nothing else. Mother would be more upset with me if I didn’t offer my aid."

I had no idea who ‘Mother’ was, but I didn’t care to ask. Whoever she was, as long as she didn’t get in my way, that was enough. I cringed inwardly at my own self-centeredness. I sounded just like Ahn. Trying to shift the focus, I nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it." Turning my back to him, I adjusted my bag and set off. "We should get moving. The elves might be curious about what’s woken a fairy from its slumber."

Isylwin walked beside me, the silence stretching between us. I used the quiet to gather my thoughts. We’d been lucky so far, but that luck could run out. It wouldn’t shock me if a group of elves leaped from the shadows to ambush us at any moment. Stealing a glance at my companion, I finally broke the silence.

"Do elf songs have any effect on your kind?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

He smiled, his face a curious blend of youthful softness and grown man’s frame—a combination that struck an odd chord. Looking at him for too long felt unsettling, like staring at a mask that was just a little too real. His glamor seemed to be wearing thin.

"No," he said, his voice carrying a tinkling quality that was almost otherworldly. "They won’t work on me, and by extension, they won’t work on you."

That was a relief. I was still grappling with the idea of defensive magic, and despite my resolve from last night, I knew the prospect of fire would only push my already strained emotions to the brink. I couldn’t afford to fight with the same blind rage that had served me before. It would be a disaster for me and anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire.

"That’s comforting," I said, and we lapsed into silence.

Then, out of the blue, Isylwin’s tone shifted, taking on a gravity I hadn’t heard before.

"The forest is in awe of you," he said, more serious than I’d ever heard him.

"Pardon?"

"We communicate with one another, the trees and I," he said wistfully. "Word reached us about your death and rebirth a few days ago. That’s why I decided to help you. It’s not often I get the chance to bring peace to someone enduring such hardship. Fairies live such pampered lives in our world; finding empathy for those in your position is rare."

"Why are you telling me this?" I demanded, my defensive edge sharpening.

"Because," he shrugged, his gesture so disarmingly human it made me uneasy. "It’s only fair you receive the same respect one of my kind would if they were in your place."

"My people," he continued, "generally have little interest in others. But your involvement, your bloodline, changes that. Mother holds great respect for your ancestors and the principles you stand for. She pities you and the losses you’ve suffered. That’s why I don’t see this as a favor."

I’d forgotten about the debt I owed him from years ago. He hadn’t called it in, yet he chose to help me anyway. He could have asked for anything in return, even if it meant I’d have to divert my path. But he didn’t. Confused, I asked him why.

"Your debt was settled when you informed me about the elves," he said, running a hand through his hair. I took a step back, uneasy. "My people weren’t aware of their presence in Lustra. The trees sensed a looming darkness, but your loss made them shut their eyes again. We thought the great Bridd had abandoned her place in the spirit realm."

"I won’t pry into what’s happened unless you’re comfortable sharing. Your eyes reveal enough—your fear, your pain. It doesn’t matter to us. Whatever the case, we’ll join the fight, not for Bangtan, but for ourselves. Lustra is as much our home as it is anyone else’s."

I felt a glimmer of hope. With the ielfen fighting alongside us, the burden of the conflict might shift off my shoulders. Fewer battles would mean less risk for my family. I knew they wouldn’t extend their aid beyond this, but that was a concern for another day. Their involvement was all that mattered.

"Regardless," I said quietly, "I still want to thank you. It means more to me than you know."

We fell silent again, neither speaking during our rest stops or when we reached the Syrena River, where I drank deeply. As the miles passed, Isylwin’s glamor unraveled further, a casualty of our distance from his kin. By the time we neared the border of Ancola, night had cloaked the world, and it was time for Isylwin to part ways.

"I can’t leave these woods," he said, genuine sorrow etching his features. "If I could join you, I would. But I’d wither away outside of Moland."

"It’s not your fault, Isylwin," I said, trying to soothe him.

He went rigid, his eyes widening with fear. That’s when I realized he’d given me not just a name, but his true name—a sacred gift among the ielfen. It touched me deeply, though it left me puzzled. Once he saw my reaction, he relaxed. I apologized profusely, guilt twisting in my stomach. The idea of him revealing his real name had seemed so absurd, I hadn’t even considered it.

“No need to apologize,” he said, a grin creeping across his face. The smile cracked his earlier facade, revealing something far more primal and beastly beneath. Instead of sending me into a fresh bout of panic, it brought a strange sense of relief. I preferred this raw, monstrous form over the humanoid mask he wore earlier.

“I hadn’t realized the power you’ve handed me,” I said, my voice steadying with resolve. “I promise not to misuse it.” I glanced at him, noting how his glamor had faded, revealing the unease etched into his features. “You should head back to the forest. You’re starting to look restless.”

“Take care,” he warned, his eyes pleading now. “If you find yourself in dire need, call for me. It won’t be pretty, and my glamor won’t hold up outside the swamps, but I’ll do my best to be of use, even if only briefly.”

His kindness threw me off balance. Ghillie Dus was known for helping children, a role he saw me fit into, but this level of reassurance was beyond anything I’d expected. I shivered as I stepped into the frigid desert. The emptiness stretched out before me, a stark contrast to the forest’s sheltering embrace.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice cracking as I sought reassurance. This was the point of no return, and I needed a reason to keep moving forward. “I understand the need to fight, but this kindness seems so out of character for your kind.”

His face was now an impenetrable black sphere, with two glowing circles where his eyes should have been. Dark moss covered his form, a tangled mess that defied human solidity. He was otherworldly, struggling to maintain his composure. I felt the discomfort creep back in.

“Your bloodline has safeguarded the forest for ages,” Isylwin said, his voice resonating with an eerie calm. “I’m a man of the trees, as we all are beings of the forests and swamps in Lustra. We’ve always respected your kind, but the Bridd before you held a special place in our world.”

“Mother adored her,” he continued. “She saw her strength and spirit as something extraordinary. Her death saddened her deeply. Your actions the night she burned earned you great respect in the spirit realm. We see you as a legend in your own right. Once they learn where you’re headed, there will be no question that your name will be remembered as the most remarkable witch ever.”

I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. The notion that the ielfen saw me as they did their mythical heroes seemed almost laughable. I wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, but I knew better than to doubt his sincerity. Fairies couldn’t lie. Overwhelmed, I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the hysterical laughter bubbling up inside me.

“What does that have to do with you?” I finally managed, regaining my composure.

“Naida is a difficult challenge,” Isylwin said, his voice tinged with a genuine sense of purpose. “I’m helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. Like the rest of us, I seek to be seen as useful. By aiding you, I hope to earn Mother’s pride. Your debt to me will be settled once that happens and never mentioned again.”

“And if I succeed?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. I knew fairies could be bound by their word, and his promise of help might be ironclad.

“You’ll have my help,” he said, bowing with a gravity that made me uneasy. “Indefinitely.”

I wasn’t entirely satisfied with his answer, but I didn’t press further. I needed to keep moving. I managed a final smile and bid him goodnight. As Isylwin vanished, leaving only a whisper of his presence behind, I knew he had returned to his realm. I sighed, feeling the weight of solitude settle over me once more.

Alone, I pushed past the gnawing ache of loneliness and forced myself to continue. The desert stretched ahead, cold and unforgiving. I found a tree to rest in, climbing up to perch on a branch where I could make myself comfortable. Tonight, I would sleep among the woods. Tomorrow, I would reach Clarcton, evade detection, and plan the next leg of my journey.

That night, sleep came in fragments, haunted by dreams of Jimin and me lying in the meadow by my house. Wildflowers danced around us as he kissed my hand and smiled. But then the scene shattered into flames, the flowers screamed, and the trees wept. Jimin’s eyes turned cold and lifeless as he accused me, his voice echoing with the blame. It was my fault. I woke in tears, the dark sky above, knowing I had only been asleep for a short while. I woke four times, each time more distressed, until I gave up on sleep entirely.

I reached Clarcton while it was still dark, slipping behind a local inn’s shadows. The darkness concealed me from view as I entered the small, quiet building. A young woman stood behind the desk, offering a warm, if weary, greeting.

“Where are you coming from?” she whispered as I scrawled my alias, Nixie, on the sign-in sheet.

“Syrena,” I replied, lowering my voice to match hers.

Her eyes, pools of melancholy, betrayed a deep well of pity. It twisted my heart, thinking of those back in Northorn and the lands beyond. They hadn't made it this far south yet, but the capital's fate was uncertain. I had to get out quickly to avoid being caught in the chaos.

“Where are you headed?” Her gaze lingered on the name tag pinned to her chest—Hannah. A plain name for a plain girl. “Not west, I hope?”

“No,” I shook my head. “East. Whopping.”

Hannah’s eyes sharpened with a warning, and I caught the subtle shift. We were about to converse in code. “Stay south,” she advised. “Azamar Pass is sweltering this year.”

I offered her a small, grateful smile. She mirrored it, a silent connection formed in that brief exchange. When I paid for my room, I added a little extra as thanks. Hannah accepted the cash with a knowing wink before returning to the book she’d been absorbed in when I walked in. Our shared moment had ended, and we were both retreating to our separate worlds.

“It’s upstairs,” she said, her attention fixed on her book. “Second floor, all the way down the hall to the left. Blankets and pillows are in the closet, and towels are hanging in the bathroom. Rest up. You look like you need it.”

Dismissed, I thanked her again and headed to my room. The inn exuded a cozy warmth, decorated in rich woods and deep reds reminiscent of Jin’s house. The solar witch had a penchant for yellows and oranges, but the cinnamon scent lingering in the air was strikingly similar to my friend’s cologne.

The room was modest, with a single bed tucked into the far-right corner. Across from it, a fireplace crackled, flanked by a large blue chair and a small table. A garish paisley rug sprawled across the floor, and a cobweb dangled from the ceiling fan. The room had a musty smell, dust clinging to every surface.

Clarcton was supposed to be bustling, but I’d ended up on the outskirts, a forgotten corner where travelers seldom ventured. I threw my bag on the blue chair and set out to find the bathroom. A rickety coat rack stood awkwardly between the fireplace and the bathroom door. The knob was sticky, and I had to turn it with a rough twist to open the latch. The bathroom, though in need of a simple dusting, was otherwise clean—a small relief.

I made the mistake of taking a deep breath as I stretched and was immediately struck by a coughing fit. I slammed the door shut and wiped my watery eyes. Lesson learned: breathe carefully. I fluffed the pillows and wafted the sheets to air them out. The knitted quilt was beyond salvaging, so I folded it and set it aside. The thin sheets would suffice for a summer night. I turned off the lights, used a flicker of magic to guide me to the bed, and crawled under the covers.

Exhaustion clung to me, yet my mind remained restless. I missed my friends, my home, and the warmth of my love. Alone at last, I allowed myself to cry softly. It wasn’t the same explosive outburst from yesterday or the tearful departure from Jimin’s house. It was a quiet sorrow, a deep loneliness. I was weary and overwhelmed, haunted by regret.

I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I knew that much. But turning back wasn’t an option—pride, or perhaps shame, kept me from reversing course. I wouldn’t return home empty-handed.

My heart ached at the thought. I longed to know if Jimin and I would be okay, and I wanted that knowledge sooner rather than later. I regretted our argument, regretted not giving him a chance to apologize. I had not even given myself that chance. Instead, I had stormed off and fled like a petulant child. His hurtful words were understandable; he had been through so much, dealing with my injuries and the news of my reckless behavior. I groaned in frustration.

I was angry with Sol but struggled to hold a grudge. She likely thought she was acting in my best interest. Jimin was her friend, and her fear for me might have clouded her judgment. Taehyung would undoubtedly be furious with her, which helped temper my irritation. I would confront her when I saw her again, but it was infuriating to think she had time to gossip while her people struggled.

Ji-Hyun, on the other hand, had no decency. Just the mention of his name soured my mood. The boy who used to throw rocks at his crush’s window had transformed into someone unrecognizable. I had been eager to meet him and Callisto, but his hostility had ruined that excitement. I couldn’t fathom why he hated me so much or why his disdain seemed so intense.

Anger and outrage were to be expected, but his relentless judgment, even after everyone else had calmed down, was baffling. What had transpired between my sleep and waking to inspire such loathing?

I tossed and turned, frustration mounting as sleep eluded me. Tomorrow would be a day of planning and preparation, shopping and strategizing. I needed to navigate this unfamiliar terrain with precision. My heart yearned for home, wherever that might be.

It took a long time for my body to unwind, and even longer for my tears to subside. I didn’t drift into sleep until the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. My eyes were swollen, my cheeks stained. I dreamt of Jimin again, of us kissing in my bed at the end of spring, a bittersweet reminder of what I had left behind.

Here's your real gift: An extra update this month!

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @yunki-yunki-yunki

© chimcess, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[meepinmeat]

Magister Celestino in His Celestial Drip

Was meant to post this awhile back but life got me caught up and shi. Now here, I wanna ramble about Celestino's lore as an Archon before he became Magister Merlin. That time period before the events of the AFKJ where he was more well-known for what he actually is, a Celestial.

This is his Archon outfit, based off of Dionel's:

Titles/Monikers:

☆ Venus of Dusk (official, still in-use)

☆ Guardian of Esperia/Esperia's Protector (in-offical but recognised)

☆ God of Enlightenment (unofficial but recognised)

☆ The Gods' Most Favored (unofficial but recognised)

☆ Sweet Prince of Heaven (Official title present in the Temple Codex)

~~~~~~~~

Here's some nuggies for ya:

• With Merlin essentially being made out to be an omnipotent being with immense power that has done revolutionary things and many a good deed in Esperia, I figured- Might as well put more truth to him being a 'godly' figure and make him a literal Celestial.

• So even at base powers with what his father had passed down, he's already pretty OP before. Being able to conduct the divine light and smite foes with seering lightening. That blue sword you see in the game's intro? I hc that sword has been with him from the start, something Dura gifted to him once he was old enough to begin training in combat. The sword was also able to turn into a spear, making him something of a pro in bladework:

[Credits: Gamer's Lighthouse on YouTube 🔼 he has all cutscenes from the game including the intro so thank goodness for rewatch-ability]

• Venus of Dusk. A title soon decided for him after his creation to signify his heritage as the Venus of Dawn's offspring, and that he was birthed during a romantic time of the sun setting as evening arises with the darkness of the night just looming ahead. From then to now, Cel always has a strong affinity for the afterhours. One can say it is that time of day where he flourishes the most.

• He is that light in the dark who guides others as a beacon of hope amidst the shadows to the right path. Having a knack for knowledge and an innate sense of curiosity, he would be deemed a god of enlightenment. A Venus who not only relishes in the revelry of pleasure and desires, but also the ecstasy that comes with clarity from being knowledgeable [bro is the Messiah atp]

• He is the youngest of the Celestial pantheon. While everyone including his dad be millenias old, he's only like.. plenty of decades, centuries and possibly 1-2 millenias old. They have all right to call him 'child', 'boy', 'lad' and endearing nicknames that ensure he remembers he'll always be their baby. Even the Hypogeans but moreso on the negative part- 'brat', 'punk', 'twat' and other demeaning ways that address his youth to them.

• The other Celestials have become aunts and uncles to him ever since. Dura even took much interest in the boy, becoming his grandmother figure and helping to care and mentor the Celestial prodigy. (thus earning Cel the privy to call her 'Nana') Besides, what perfect timing of his conception. The Age of Arcana was at its rise, and the Gods of Esperia are soon to fall. Thus she had chosen Celestino as the upcoming Guardian of the entirety of Esperia, and that he is the one to bestow upon their powers once they fell.

• Once he reached his teen years, the dark side of the moon would arise once the stress amd pressure of his duties start to toll on him. Especially when the years were approaching for a great battle against the Hypogeans and other foes. He ended up twistedly coping by uh, enjoying his job of vanquishing the Hypos and other dark forces a little too much. Toying with them before giving them the sweet release of death. Didn't take long for Dionel and Scarlita to catch on, and that's prolly the one and only time his father was ever most infuriated with him for taking on the mindset of the very beings they swore to destroy. While callous, they are not to be sadistically cruel to prolong the suffering of their enemies and finish them off as swiftly.

• Ofc that lead Celestino to have his most major breakdown, venting to them about how he's cracking under the pressure of carrying his duties out the best he can and the insecurity building within of not knowing if he's been doing things right. Especially when everyone is becoming more locked in with the upcoming battle, they already know and figured that Cel does his best but he doesn't hear their approval. They've forgotten that he's still a fledgling and not yet as steeled and honed as they are.

• From there, Dionel and the others did what they can to support Cel as they exterminate and fight against the Hypos. Verbalising their validation and allowing to make time for Cel when he needs further advice and guidance. Reminding him not to go astray and to fight with valor and mercy. From his father additionally he also gets pats on the head and back. It helped to boost morale and in the end, they emerged victorious by the time Cel is a young adult. Ready to spread his (metaphorical) wings and fly.

• By the time he's a full-fledged Archon, he's become that stoic and aloof Celestial. A man of remarkable composure and elegance. While he's a quiet and mild-mannered one, he carries himself with a confident flare and a regalious yet amicable air to him. He can be quite bold when when gets real comfortable and isn't completely standoffish. The beginning to his prime as a grown Venus of Dusk.

• With him being of-age, Dionel would start encouraging/inviting or outright just bring Cel to his many parties and banquets. Maybe reluctant at first when he rather prefers being in the comforts of the library sipping tea. But once he got to mingling with a couple of people, he would soon become the life of party- during the afterhours. That's where he shone the brightest.

• If Dionel is the one to host and guest the parties, Cel is a guest and the entertainment. He found joy in singing and dancing (not just ballroom dances, I'm talkin' exotic ones too) able to captivate the audience and sway them to his voice and movements. Slowly becoming more charismatic and charming. Becoming like his old man in the rizz department and getting suave asf but also more bold with his flirting as well. You know he's a honest person cuz those hips don't lie.

• Sometime couple hundred more years, after yet another war that was victorious on their end but also the time where Dura and the other Gods had fallen. Cel had walked away from the victory feast his father was hosting to get some fresh air. Still needing time to process everything that's happened and what's to come of Esperia (and also cuz he misses nana Dura 😢) walking through the battlefield. Basking in the devastation left behind as the raindrops pour, not that it ever bothered him. Suddenly, he'd feel the powers/essences of the fallen gods embrace and flow through his being.

On that fateful night, he learned he could harness their powers that would come to be known as 'magic'.

[cinderswife]

currently rotating rose red around in my brain so here's some outfits i designed for her (this is pre-meeting cinders btw)! bonus design notes under the cut :3

nude

i knew immediately that i wanted rose to be short and built like a brick shithouse. she is dense and compact and impossible to knock over. also, she gets to be a bear girl because everyone in my ouatis au is an animal eared person. its a fun concept i saw trawling the tumblr tag and i have decided it is very canon.

absolutely covered in freckles

yes those are top surgery scars. very recent in fact! its a cross between unrealized gender things and the pain of breasts that are just. too big. always.

her tail is usually too small to be seen from this angle but i wanted to show off her tiny red puff

most of her scars are from military combat with the exception of the top surgery scars and the one on her left hand which came from when she punched a window at the age of 15 defending snow from one of their dads getting super duper upset b/c snow was starting to date

she is 4'10" and so proud of it. will kick your ass if you're a dick about it

pajamas

nothing much to say here, she just. doesn't care all that much. tank top and sweat pants are the perfect combo of temperatures for her.

also she wears heart patterned boxers and we love her for that

military work uniform

do you know how hard it is to design a military uniform when you don't usually give a shit about the military. i spend so many hours going down worldbuilding subreddits and forums before i figured out something i was happy with. anyways! this is a non-combative officer's work uniform (aka the uniform rose wore when she was commander of the prison cinders was in). i picked red because it's the color most strongly associated with cole's army, but i figure that soldiers in combat would have better camouflage built into their uniforms.

the patch on her left shoulder (the one with the deer) is the symbol for colonel. it's also mirrored on a smaller scale on her breast. cole's army uses animals to mark higher ranks

the other shoulder patch marks her current assignment

i liked white as an accent color because of its prevalence in the album. also it looks nice!

the sleeve stripes and the chevrons both indicate that she is a very important officer

the other patches on her breast are the simplified coat of arms for her noble house (the house of grimm) and all of the medals she has earned in her 11 years of service

military dress uniform

the fancy version of her uniform for Events and Public Appearances. it's a bit darker in tone for the sake of visual interest and has a lot more accessories. this one was a nightmare to color i stg but i'm super happy with the way it turned out.

you get to see all her medals! she has complicated feelings on them but they are shiny and look very nice so.

the stripes, chevrons, and deer are all the same as the work uniform for some easy visual shorthand of her rank

the only time rose will ever wear a tie or any other neck decoration because it's regulation.

i liked the way a black undershirt looked over a white one, no other reason lol

the bear medal is because the bear is a symbol of her noble family. most people have a cougar of some sort instead.

the sword and the lion are both special awards granted specifically by cole. the lion in particular came from her first deployment where she accidentally changed the tides on the invasion of the perrault (cinders' planet) and became a war hero/propaganda piece at 19

the boots have buckles. they are never quite tight enough and its annoying.

casual dress

off duty, rose wears crisp, well tailored masc outfits. she knows how to dress herself to look effortlessly important due to being raised noble but she doesn't think too hard about it.

she wears shorts instead of full pants whenever she can get away with it. snow hates this.

no she is not buttoning up all the way. why would you make her put this much effort into it. she's hotter with it undone

fun fact: i initially made her vest and shorts green but i decided that blue looked nicer

fancy dress

i've elected to go with a 1700s inspired look for the nobility. it's very fairytale-esque and also allows me to have fun with it! i wanted to do more embroidery, but i wound up not having the patience for such a thing. ah well, what i've got looks nice enough.

rose usually wears cool colors in her formal outfits. this purple is a particular favorite of hers because it goes really nicely with her hair and ears without being obnoxious

once again, rose out here avoiding any sort of neck accessory or hat. accessories that annoy her for $10,000

the lilac undershirt is not connected to the off-white trousers it's two separate pieces.

the gold accents cut a very striking figure and also look very pretty <3

the boots are supposed to be longer and pointier but idk how well i pulled that off aha

she's very handsome and i love her

[estelian-01]

Gimme your thoughts on the symbolism of the silent princess in BOTW pls and thank yyoouu

ooooooo a symbolism ask. I haven’t seen a prompt like that since high school😂 let’s see if I’ve still got it:

I believe that the silent princess represents Zelda. I mean first off it’s got the same color scheme as her usual outfits. Second, the name. Third, Zelda has one growing in her study. I think we can assume that zelda has been studying these plants and that she may have had something to do with their recovery as a species. In the game, Zelda explains that they haven’t been able to grow them domestically, yet we find one in her study, so I’m going to guess that Zelda eventually figured out how to do it. But I’m getting off track here.

back to the symbolism, Zelda also explains that the silent princess can’t grow domestically and only thrives out in the wilds. Again we see a strong parallelism with Zelda herself. She is stifled by her duties as a princess and the expectations of her father. The few times we see her happy are when she’s out exploring the wilds as a scientist. This is where she thrives. This also implies that after the calamity, Zelda will also flourish in the wilderness, free from her previous burdens.

another point I would like to analyze here is the name: Silent Princess. I believe it strongly represent everything Zelda is expected to be. She is meant to fulfill her duties, and isn’t really allowed to pursue her own opinions, dreams, or wishes before the calamity.

We know that Link became selectively mute sometime before the shrine of resurrection because of the burden he bore as the wielder of the sword that seals the darkness and his role as Zelda’s guard. So we can also argue that the silent princess may also represent Link. Again the color scheme matches his. Again, he is stifled by the expectations of others and his role. Again, he too seems much happier after the shrine in the wilds. Again I think we can assume that he will also thrive in the wilderness and his newfound freedom.

and there you have it. How’d I do?😉

[dhwty-writes]

New arc, new art!

I have had the absolute pleasure of drawing my awesome girlfriend @flowercrown-bard's character she is playing in my Pathfinder campaign for the new arc we are kicking off.

For more infos/close-ups look under the cut!

For a bit of context: this character's name is Nadya and she is an oracle on the run from her duties to her home country. While over the course of the last few months she has come to accept her oracular powers, she is now at odds with a lot of the gods that send her dreams. Mainly because they did not intervene as her crush (@parttime-creative's character) died in front of her. Instead she has chose to embrace four of her Banished Deities that are widely regarded as evil. So, a while ago I asked flower if she tought that warranted a costume change and this is what we cooked up as we are about to head into the Shadow Plane.

One thought that I had was that every one of the Banished Gods should be reflected in the outfit somehow. The first is the Prince of Chains with the chain pattern on the bodysuit. The second is the Iron Maiden, represented by the sword earring and the chain connecting it to the cuff. Thirdly, the corset represents the Flowerbringer with the black thorns and orange (burning) and blue (frozen) roses. Last is Fools' Mirror with little pieces of mirror on the jacket as well as the button in the form of an owl's head.

I also tried to show each of her magic items. The staff is the Staff of Radiance (very useful in the Shadow Plane). The two necklaces are an Amulet of Natural Armor (the scaly one) and a Necklace of Fireballs with one charge left. Lastly, the green shawl is a Shawl of Lifekeeping, courtesy of partttime-creative's late character Kira. The only items missing are rings you wouldn't see as well as gloves I was too lazy to draw.

[satiatedcards]

(Marluke art down below)

"You're asking me to teach you how to fight?"

“Please, Luke? I can’t just sit by and watch you fight by yourself. You nearly got killed in that ambush the other day.”

“It’s my job to protect you, my liege. It's only natural that I risk my life for your safety.”

“Luke, I’m nearly 22, I should at least be able to defend myself so you don't have to worry about covering me during a fight. I don't want to be a burden to you. And if more people are going to keep coming after me, that’s all I’m ever going to be.”

“My liege, I'll say this again. I am your sworn protector. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. It is an honor to protect you, not a burden."

“That still doesn't change the fact that you have to keep watching over your shoulder to ensure my safety, when you should be keeping your eyes on the people trying to kill you! At least teach me to defend myself with a sword.”

“Fine. I can see you've made up your mind on this. However, just cause you're new to this doesn't mean I'll be easy on you. And learning how to use the sword will be no simple task.”

“So I've been told. But I'm a fast learner so you won't have to worry about me."

“In that case, we’ll start as soon as I’m off-duty."

“Thanks Luke."

“You don’t need to thank me, Marius."

——

True to his word, Marius took to the sword rather quickly, and became quite capable of defending himself should he and Luke be ambushed again. In just a few short years under Luke’s tutelage, his skill with the sword was almost comparable to his mentor, and he went from simply defending himself to actively fighting alongside Luke. Eventually, the two of them garnered quite the reputation as a formidable duo in combat. And during normal, less exciting days, Marius’s subjects noted with no small amount of interest on the suspiciously close nature of the relationship between the king and his supposed bodyguard. Rumor among them had it that they were courting each other, since he never accepted any of the marriage proposals he received. Everyone knew he didn't actually need a bodyguard.

——

“Okay, Rosa. We’re ready when you are.”

“Try not to hurt each other too badly, I would rather not spend all day patching you guys up again. With that said, you may begin."

——

One last MarLuke before the year ends! I wanted to get this out during Luke's birthday but commissions take time so instead this is coming out during Christmas time. (Happy belated birthday Luke!) Also I know that Luke has an actual knight outfit but I like this one better and it's criminally underused since it only appears in one artwork.

Art:@beewo_ (Instagram)

thanks for feeding my marluke addiction^

[arcandoria]

13, 24, 30?

thank you harps!

50 QUESTIONS FOR ROOK

13. Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse? (also asked by @thefrostyshepard!)

Not at first aside from the few decorations we see in canon (the shaving mirror, the combat manual, things they could carry in their pack).

After they visit the Necropolis to recruit Emmrich, Yorath takes the opportunity to grab a couple of items that reminded a little more of home such as their off-duty outfit and some expensive Watcher tools that they didn't bring on the road for obvious reasons. It's not too deeply sentimental but it does give them a little more feel of 'home'.

24. Does Rook have any nightly rituals before bed?

Because Yori isn't a morning person, they like to do all their stretches before bed, usually alongside some sort of meditation. With the whole Veilguard situation the stretches become spotty and the meditation almost non-existent and they start going stiff.

30. What is Rook’s class? Did they choose it? (also asked by @icescrabblerjerky!)

Yori is a Sword and Shield Warrior, and they did choose it! Of course the Watchers first inclination was to see if they had any gift for spell casting, but as Yorath grew with more interest on physical activities than magic, they were put on the way of the Reapers to make best use of their talents. They've been particularly useful to deal with conflicts within the necropolis where an actual necromancer should not be within range of undead, and to enforce some peacekeeping with Necropolis visitors.

Ultimately Yori does deal a lot with Spirits and manipulation of life/death forces, but they can't raise undead or control them at all.

[llondonfog]

✨Twst Chapter 7 Misery✨

No theories here, just Lettie's overall rambling reaction because I am PROCESSING!! (keeping it just to the new chapter update, not lilia's ssr)

gets this one out of the way first SILVER CRYING, SILVER SOBBING AND WEEPING, MY HEART??????? KICKS LILIA VICIOUSLY IN HIS OLD MAN ANKLES, YOUR FUCKING SON LOVES YOU MORE THAN HIMSELF, MORE THAN HIS DUTIES, HE'D WALK OFF THE END OF THE EARTH WITH YOU AND YOU TRIED TO LEAVE BEFORE HE COULD SAY GOODBYE?????

I don't think I was even as angry at Lilia in the first part of ch7 as I am now. Like I GET IT, I get that he's trying to avoid the pain of goodbye (fun fact, that's a double-edged sword) and it's most likely a product of not just his personality but also of his war days. BUT SURPRISE you HAVE created meaningful family bonds and while it's a fact of life that yes, you should encourage your children to be independent and rely on themselves, YOU DON'T ROB THEM OF THE OPPORTUNITY TO SAY GOODBYE TO YOU NOR DO YOU DROP THE IDEA OF YOUR DEATH ON THEM AND TELL THEM TO WRAP UP THEIR GRIEF IN A WEEK AHHHHHH

Malleus' OB was everything that I wanted and I am still reeling. THE OUTFIT, THE GLOWING HORNS, THE SINISTER HUMMING?? THE FACT HE HAD A PURPOSEFULLY UNBEATABLE BATTLE WITH 300,000 POINTS AHHHHHH I'm SO glad they're keeping true to the fact that he IS one of the world's most powerful mages and I WANT THESE BATTLES TO BE EPIC.

My mouth fully dropped at the end scene though, what masterful storytelling?? It felt like a genuine horror game for a minute, the slow fade to black and the reveal of the logo in the empty space while Malleus' hums so creepily in the background LOVE IT, THE VOICE ACTING IN THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER WENT OFF!!!!

And speaking of the VAs, Silver's crying and Lilia's horrified screaming will haunt my dreams tonight :) well done jp team, just well fucking done. THIS IS EVERYTHING WE NEEDED. The family bonds are buckling and being so deliciously tested, I AM HERE FOR IT DESPITE MY BLEEDING HEART.

other notes; Lilia is 700 years old?? I genuinely expected him to be at least 1000, but then they gave the reasoning of how he used up his magic quickly (most likely in support of the war) and that impacted his lifespan and my heart just fucking br oke. love it twst, you thought of everything.

ALSO LOVE BEING CORRECT THAT IT WAS SEBEK'S GRANDFATHER THAT CONTRIBUTED HEAVILY TO HIS VIEWS OF HUMANS. I'm SO here for seeing how Sebek will deal in the coming parts with Malleus' OB and coming to terms with his own identity ahhhhhhhhhh

[dramatic-squirrel]

Daminette December Day 12- Feather

@maribat-calendar-events

It was too late for Damian to dodge the sword that was bearing down on his temple. Normally he wouldn’t have been caught off guard but, he felt like the circumstances exonerated him of his lapse in judgment. The mission was a simple reconnaissance job, see what the situation was like in Paris then reported back his findings to the Justice League. And it would have been simple, if his father and Grayson and Jon hadn’t instill this stupid sense of heroic duty into his instinctual response.

If he hadn’t seen that child in danger he never would have run out to protect the child and find himself caught up in the middle of the Parisian’s fight against what he believed was called an akuma. The mistake that got him into trouble however was the lack of knowledge about the opponent. He was not expecting for multiple arms to suddenly grow out of the akuma, nor was he expecting swords to come with those arms. Just as he braced himself for the blow, hoping it wouldn’t be a deep wound, a feather flew past his face, and down from the sky, a blue and green clad figure landed on the akuma. 

It was another super, hero or villain Damian wasn’t sure yet. The new individual wore an teal, asymmetrical skirt, that back of which turned into what looked like tail figures. Up top she wore a tailcoat jacket in dark blue, and a high neck shirt in dark green. Her dark hair was done up in a complicated braided updo and lastly, her face was covered by a feathered mask. Damian was baffled with how this miraculous user could fight in an outfit like that.

While he was taking stock of the situation, the green and blue hero turned to him. “Monsieur, you should run now. Find somewhere safe to hide until this is over.” Her concern for him as a citizen confirmed his suspicions, she was definitely a hero. Not waiting any longer he left, and tried to find a spot to observe from. In his head, he ran through the list of super powered individuals he managed to research before coming to Paris. There was the main duo of Cat Noir and Lady Luck. They were there from the beginning. Then there was Hawkmoth, the villain terrorizing Paris. Other than that, he recalled Vipereon, Carapace, Ryuko, the disaster of Queen Bee, but not this blue and green hero. 

Finally, Damian made it to the top of a building and turned to watch the ensuing battle. He saw the akuma, Chat Noir, and Lady Luck, but not the other one. Scanning the area, he looked for her figure, wondering where she went but couldn’t find her, she disappeared. Cursing his bad luck, he resolved to return later that night as Robin to scout.

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That night, Robin didn’t find anyone, it was the mysterious heroine that found him. Again she dropped by out of nowhere and landed right behind him, quietly and effortlessly. 

“You’re Robin, right?” She held out a hand to shake, the other hand holding her fan. “You can call me Azure.” When Robin continued to stare at her, not taking the offered hand, Azure shrugged and lowered it. “I assume you are looking for information about what’s going on in Paris. I’m here to answer your questions.”

He gazed at her suspiciously but he saw enough to know that she wasn’t evil. “Why are you here and not one of the other main heroes?”

“Ah… Well, that’s because I know more than them. They are the main heroes but I am the current Guardian of the miraculouses.”

“Guardian?”

“Yes. I take care of the miraculouses and hand them out to the temporary heroes to aid Lady Luck and Chat Noir. I don’t fight myself because if I an akuma gained control of me or if Hawkmoth discovered too much about me, it would compromise everyone else.” That did explain why he hadn’t heard of the name Azure before but raised larger issues.

“Then I assume you're the one who irresponsibly gave the miraculouses to children.” She scoffed at his accusation, offended by not only his assumption based on ignorance but also his insinuation that she would be that stupid.

“Let me correct you on three accounts, Robin.” She held up one finger. “First, I didn’t choose the first heroes of Paris. I did choose Lady Luck as a successor to Ladybug. But Chat Noir and the original Ladybug were chosen by the previous guardian. Second, miraculouses do not go out to those with the most experience, they go to those with the greatest compatibility. Those children,” she used air quotes, “were the best choices based on affinity. The only exceptions are the villain Hawkmoth and Lady Luck, who is the second most compatible with her miraculous. And lastly, you are a damn hypocrite for making that accusation yourself, when you appear no older than any of the Parisian heroes.”

Robin rolled his eyes at that, not that Azure could see. He ignored the jab at his own hypocrisy. “What else can you inform me about the situation?”

She disregarded his question and stared at her fingernails. “Apologize for insulting me and my judgment. And I’ll tell you.” 

It was Robin’s turn to scoff. “I don’t need you to tell me anything, I can find out information on my own.”

“And Paris doesn’t need the Justice League. I offered to answer questions because I saw no need to hide information from them. We don’t need or want help from heroes that could cause more damage than help if they were akumatized.” She made a valid point and Robin had difficulty rebutting her. “And regardless of what you find on your own, it’s nowhere near to the amount of information I could give you for a lot less hassle.”

He weighed the pros and cons of the current predicament. Waste months in Paris looking for information he could easily be told, or give up his pride and apologize. It took him far longer to decide than he would ever admit to his family. “I…” he swallowed down the knot of humiliation “...I shall repent on my words in the future.”

Azure sighed, knowing that was the best she would get out of Robin. “Well I suppose it would be best to start at the beginning. The miraculouses are jewelry that allow tiny gods that embody abstract ideas to interact with the world.”

“What?”

“What? That’s as simple as that will get. The specifics are unnecessary for anyone other than a guardian so let’s skip that. There are nineteen of these beings that belong to the miraculous box in my possession but more exist in the world. The miraculous Hawkmoth has, was lost by the previous guardian when that guardian used the peacock miraculous to summon a perpetually hungry amok to keep himself company because the monks were starving him alone in a room.”

“What?!”

“If you do that every time, we will be here all night. I’m trying to keep it concise so we can get to the more important details.”

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That night, they parted ways, Robin slightly confused but impressed with the accomplishments Azure made. Not only was she the former hero Ladybug, but she also was the de facto team leader for the heroes, investigating the identity of Hawkmoth and even took kung fu lessons. The last bit of info she shared when he insisted that she needed to learn to fight. As dawn broke across the sky, he wondered if she’d allow him to assist her in finding Hawkmoth.

[poppysmc]

-

Crown Princess Morgan walked down the aisle toward her place, all eyes were on her. Her military uniform was a deep shade of blue that seemed to complement her skin and piercing blue eyes.

Morgan waited for her betrothed to walk down the aisle to her. Morgan's royal military uniform was adorned with intricate gold embroidery that caught the light in a dazzling display. The deep blue of the fabric was set off by the shimmering gold, giving the outfit an air of regality and power.

The buttons down the front were also made of gold, with each one bearing the crest of the imperial family. Beneath the jacket, Morgan wore a crisp white shirt with a high collar, a nod to the traditional military dress of the empire.

Her trousers were sharply tailored, tapering at the ankle to show off her polished black boots. Completing the outfit was a gleaming sword, its hilt encrusted with jewels, glinting in the light. The sword was a symbol of Morgan's rank and position as a member of the imperial family, and it added to the grandeur of the occasion.

As Morgan stood at the front of the aisle, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and responsibility. She was not only the crown princess, but also a respected member of the military, entrusted with the protection and leadership of her people. She knew that her role carried great significance, and she was determined to fulfill her duties with honor and grace.

As the wedding march began to play, all eyes turned toward the entrance of the cathedral. Morgan held her breath in anticipation. And then, there she was. Poppy, her bride, walked down the aisle, resplendent in a gown that matched the regality of Morgan's uniform.

Poppy's gown was made of pure white silk, adorned with delicate lace and shimmering beads that caught the light of the cathedral as she moved. The gown hugged her figure, accentuating her curves and flowing into a sweeping train behind her. Her long, strawberry-blonde hair was styled in loose curls, cascading down her back, and she wore a jeweled tiara that sparkled atop her head. Her eyes were bright with emotion, and her smile was radiant as she made her way toward Morgan.

Poppy's heart stopped as an arrow whizzed from above and found its mark, striking Morgan in the chest. Morgan crumpled to her knees on the altar, blood pouring from the wound. She coughed, struggling to breathe as the pain seared through her body. Her uniform growing darker with her blood, and her hand instinctively went to her chest where the arrow had struck her.

"Morgan!" Poppy cried out, her voice choked with fear as she ran to Morgan's side.

The wedding hall that was once filled with joyous laughter and celebration now fell into stunned silence as the arrow pierced Morgan's chest, causing her to collapse onto her knees at the altar. Poppy's heart clenched in shock and horror as she rushed to Morgan's side, her pristine white dress instantly stained crimson with blood as she caught her almost lifeless bride in her arms.

Poppy's hands were trembling as she caught Morgan, her eyes filled with horror and disbelief. She could feel the warmth of Morgan's blood on her skin as she held her close, trying to support her faltering form. Tears streamed down her face as she looked into Morgan's eyes, which were clouded with pain but still filled with love.

Poppy cradled Morgan in her arms, desperately trying to staunch the bleeding with her hands, but the blood still seeped through her fingers. Poppy's own heart was pounding in her chest as she looked into Morgan's eyes, filled with pain and struggle. "Please, Morgan, stay with me. Don't leave me."

Morgan's breathing was ragged, and blood pooled around her. Her eyes were barely open, but she managed to lift a shaky hand to touch Poppy's face, her fingers trembling with weakness. She tried to speak, but her words came out in a hoarse whisper.

"I... love... you..."

Morgan's voice was barely audible, and her strength was fading rapidly. Her vision blurred, and she felt herself slipping into darkness. But she fought to stay conscious, to hold on for Poppy.

Morgan coughed, blood spilling from her lips, her breaths ragged and shallow. Poppy's hands were slick with Morgan's blood as she tried to apply pressure to the wound, her tears mixing with the crimson stains on her dress.

"Don't you dare leave me, Morgan." Poppy pleaded, her voice trembling. "You have to fight! Please, don't give up!"

Morgan's eyes fluttered, her breathing becoming weaker. Her once vibrant face was now pale, and her grip on Poppy's hand slackened. Poppy could feel her heart breaking as she watched the love of her life slip away, unable to do anything.

With a last gasp, Morgan's eyes rolled back, and she lost consciousness in Poppy's arms. Panic surged through Poppy as she realized Morgan had passed out from the blood loss. Desperation filled her as she continued to apply pressure to the wound, calling for help, hoping against hope that Morgan would survive.

Poppy's once pristine wedding dress was now marred with Morgan's blood, a stark reminder of the harrowing turn of events. Poppy held Morgan close, tears streaming down her face, her heart heavy with fear and grief. She refused to let go, determined to keep Morgan alive until help arrived, praying that their love would be enough to pull Morgan back from the brink of death.