#childrens gold stud earrings

[monalisonali]

Children Gold chain | Les Petits

Elevate your jewelry collection with the exquisite gold chain necklace from Les Petits. Crafted to perfection, this timeless piece effortlessly combine elegance and sophistication. Whether for a formal event or a classy everyday look, the intricate design adds a touch of luxury. Durable and versatile, this necklace is a must-have accessory that complements any outfit. Discover the allure of fine craftsmanship- available now at Les Petits. Click here:

[thejewelryhut]

Adorn Your Little Girl with TheJewelryHut Designer Children CZ and Enamel Silver Huggie Hoop Earrings

Capture Your Little Princess Girl Heart and Smile with TheJewelryHut Designer Color cubic zirconia and Enamel set in 925 Sterling Silver Huggie Hoop Earrings Featuring Two Round Shape White diamond Color Cubic Zirconia, Bezel Set, and Pink or Blue Enamel. These earrings were designed to open easily on a hinge and snap firmly back into place, they are secure and safe for sensitive ears. Earrings ideal for young girls (age 3-10). A complimentary Jewel Gift Box included. Ready to Ship in 5-7 Days.

Shop Smart. Shop at TheJewelryHut:   https://www.thejewelryhut.com/?page=search&itemvid=D97BB7B6-E2B8-2B2A-7C6E2975A843AEBC

[piercingsystemspakistan]

A Comprehensive Look at Ear Piercing: Kits, Guns, Studs, and More | Shoaib-Jaffer-01-01-1983.Weebly.Com

Ear piercing has been a timeless and cherished form of self-expression, fashion, and tradition. Whether you're a fashion-forward individual seeking the latest trends or a parent considering ear piercings for your child, this blog post is your ultimate source of information. We'll delve into a variety of topics, including ear piercing machines, ear piercing kits, ear piercing guns, and piercing ear studs for both ears and noses. We'll also explore online shopping for fashion earrings online and gold plated earrings, as well as discuss children's studs, nose piercing studs, and nostril piercing. So, let's dive right in and discover everything you need to know about ear and nostril piercings.

Ear Piercing Machines: The Evolution of Precision

Ear piercing machines are an integral part of the piercing process. They have come a long way since their inception. Today, modern machines offer precision and safety that was unimaginable in the past. These machines are designed to minimize discomfort and reduce the risk of infection.

When choosing an ear piercing machine, it's essential to consider factors like sterilization, piercing speed, and the type of jewelry it accommodates. The latest models offer a range of benefits, such as quick healing and minimal tissue damage. This ensures a seamless and comfortable ear piercing machine experience for all ages, from children to adults.

Ear Piercing Kits: Convenience at Your Fingertips

For those who prefer the convenience of at-home piercing, ear piercing kits are an excellent choice. These kits typically include sterilized needles, earrings, and everything you need to achieve a professional-looking piercing in the comfort of your home.

Before using an ear piercing kit, it's crucial to familiarize yourself with the proper technique and hygiene practices to ensure a safe and pain-free experience. Always follow the instructions provided to minimize the risk of complications.

The Ear Piercing Gun: A Controversial Choice

While ear piercing guns were once a popular choice for quick and easy piercings, they have become a topic of debate in recent years. Many professionals in the industry caution against using piercing guns due to the potential for tissue damage and increased risk of complications.

If you decide to use an ear piercing gun, make sure it is operated by a trained and experienced professional. Ensure that the gun is properly sterilized, and you fully understand the aftercare instructions to prevent infections and complications.

Piercing Ear Studs: Your Style Statement

Piercing ear studs are the final touch to your ear piercing journey. They come in various styles, materials, and designs to suit individual preferences. From simple, classic studs to extravagant and unique options, there's a stud for every occasion and personality.

When selecting ear studs, consider factors like metal type (e.g., gold plated earrings) , gemstones, and design elements. Remember that these studs will be a part of your style, so choose ones that resonate with your personality and fashion sense.

Fashion Earrings Online: Endless Choices

In today's digital age, shopping for fashion earrings online has never been more accessible. Online retailers offer a vast selection of earrings to suit all tastes and budgets. From elegant and timeless pieces to trendy and eccentric designs, you'll find it all at the click of a button.

When shopping for fashion earrings online, pay attention to product reviews, return policies, and the retailer's reputation. This will ensure a satisfying and secure shopping experience.

Gold Plated Earrings: Affordable Luxury

Gold plated earrings offer a touch of luxury without breaking the bank. These earrings feature a layer of gold over a base metal, creating an elegant look at a fraction of the cost of solid gold jewelry.

When caring for gold plated earrings, avoid exposure to chemicals, moisture, and harsh cleaning agents. This will help maintain their luster and longevity.

Children's Studs: Safety First

For parents considering ear piercings for their children, safety is paramount. Children's studs are designed with safety and comfort in mind. They are typically made of hypoallergenic materials to reduce the risk of allergies or infections.

Before having your child's ears pierced, consult with a professional who specializes in pediatric ear piercings. Ensure that the procedure is carried out in a clean and sterile environment to minimize any potential risks.

Nose Piercing Studs: An Artistic Choice

Nose piercing studs have gained popularity as a form of self-expression and style. Just like piercing ear studs, they come in various designs and materials. Whether you opt for a subtle stud or a more elaborate design, nose piercings can enhance your facial features and add a unique flair to your appearance.

Nostril Piercing: A Trendy Option

Nostril piercing has become a trendy choice among those seeking something different. This type of piercing involves the insertion of a small stud or hoop through the nostril's cartilage. It's a versatile piercing that allows for various jewelry options, including elegant nose piercing studs and captivating hoops. Read more...

[mothtral]

sunday with a darling who wished to journey to other planets because they wanted to explore the cosmos. he was hesitant in supporting their wishes, but after robin left the nest and seemed to thrive on her freedom, sunday ultimately arranged for the best ship to take you on your journey.

you wore a necklace robin gifted you when you were children, she wore a matching one to this day. your ears were studded with gold posts that matched the ones in sunday’s wing. a grin never left your face, and confronted with your happiness, sunday felt a part of himself reluctantly relax.

a picture, you insisted on. you wrapped an arm around robin and sunday’s necks and dragged them to your level, and snapped the picture before sunday could blink. the image was immediately sent to everyone’s phones—a keepsake, you insisted—and goodbyes were shared.

it was time for you to leave. he didn’t want you to leave.

and then—

contact was lost with your ship.

you were nowhere to be found. the first planet marked for your adventure was a well-established planet known for accepting visitors. sunday had privately arranged for someone to escort you through your time there. no one ever saw you or your ship land. it was as if you disappeared like a figment of imagination.

nothing sunday did could bring you back, or make sense of what went wrong. robin tried to drag sunday and herself out of the hole that appeared under their feet, their grief threatening to drag them under. but sunday couldn’t move on, couldn’t strive forward like you did to your demise.

the plan with the festival, to revive ena and bring order to this world—to drag you back to his side because you were always meant to be there—was sunday’s last gamble. imagine his surprise and dread when sunday found a familiar figure standing with the astral express crew, and there wasn’t a signal sign of recognition in your eyes.

[xrag-dollx]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐇𝐒 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫

✧˖°𝙏𝙖𝙩𝙚:

• the snake ring on his thumb he (probably) once stole in a thrift store

• a silver ring you once gave him, so he'd always remember you

• a self-made grungy bracelet of yours with pearls of your initials in it (his absolute fav)

✧˖°𝙆𝙞𝙩:

• his biggest possession, his wedding ring ♡

• to cherish the moment he proposed to you, he wears his proposal ring as well ♥️

• occasionally a few cute self-made bracelets of his children (they basically spoil him with these)

✧˖°𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙩!𝙆𝙮𝙡𝙚:

• a decent golden necklace with the letter of your first name

• probably would get a small stud earring in gold bc you convinced him so (you'd gift him one for his birthday) and he actually likes it :)

✧˖°𝙅𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙮:

•Jimmy isn't one who likes to wear any jewellery at all (and sadly can't wear rings because of his morphed hands :/)

• but would wear a cute bracelet with a clown pendant on it you once gave him at one of your secret dates (because he'd always make you laugh ♡)

✧˖°𝙅𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨:

• would wear only two (but dearly loved) rings

• one would be his wedding ring (wears it until his death so even as a ghost he's bond to you)

• the other one is a silver ring with a red jade stone you gave him as a sign of unconditional love

✧˖°𝙍𝙤𝙧𝙮:

• has a golden wedding ring, decorated with a small green emerald gemstone

• would wear a small black stud earring on each side

✧˖°𝙆𝙖𝙞:

• would proudly wear a necklace of the devil (he thinks it gives him strength)

• is wearing coloured tape on his fingers; each symbolises a deceased cult member: white=RJ, red=Meadow, green=Harrison, in association to their clown outfits

✧˖°𝙈𝙧.𝙂𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙩:

• totally loves rings with big gemstones

• would wear a hella expensive golden watch which he got from his nana as a birthday gift

•wears a silver stud earring in the shape of a cute little scissor on his right ear (bc he's a hair stylist ♡︎) and a small golden earring on the left

• wears a leather bracelet around his left wrist

✧˖°𝘼𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣:

• this man would be nothing without his jewellery

• a silver necklace with a silver pendant in the shape of a feather (probably symbolises that he's a writer)

• short silver necklace with a small silver pendant

• a simple black necklace

• a silver ring that captures a red topaz

• a golden ring with a black onyx

• all bought in paris (except for the golden ring, he stole that one while he was 'out for dinner' in some random ass house

Tags: @fear-is-truth @trueangel420 @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @evanpeterspeter @lacucarachapisser @evanpeterswifeyyy

[notyour-valentine]

The Spirits that I summoned (Young!Tommy)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Where Arthur sees danger, Tommy sees a quick way to make some money and use people's prejudices against them.

Note: This is my participation for Chi @little-diable 's 15k celebration - what an accomplishment, and what an incredible, versatile body of work. In typical student mindset, I'm scraping the deadline, but I hope you enjoy all the same. The quote I drew was: Even as a child I felt it, and marvelled at the power of this woman who, though veiled, could electrify a room

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Warning: Stereotypes of travellers (in line with what is shown in canon)

Wordcount: 1588

He twirled the coin between his fingers. It was a habit of his he knew he better ought to shake. 

Though his hand was hidden deep in the pocket of his brown worn trousers, Tommy knew one glance would give away his restless nature, his nerves. His weakness. 

Lucky for him, his counterparts weren’t always as perceptive. 

They were young, younger than he was, but not by much. And they were playing dress up, the same way the children were doing down at the fair, picking up wooden sticks and calling themselves knights. 

Oh they had chosen well, he had to give them that - sturdy boots made for walking, weatherproof coats, and thick scarves to keep out the cold. 

But the leather was polished to a shine, the shoes free from any scratch. And the coats had never seen repairs, at least none that were visible to the eye. 

The scarves matched the boots and the boots the purse and the purse the coat. All a little too perfect to be accidental. 

Besides, the shorter one of the two had forgotten to take her earrings off. 

Pearl, he could easily tell, even in the fleeing light, with a little gold stud. 

Tommy knew money when he saw it, and he saw it now in the shape of these two newcomers. 

“Go-good evening.”, one of them said, looking from one to the other. 

Arthur only glared at them suspiciously. 

“Are, ahm, are you one of the-”, she gestured to the illuminated camp site behind them. 

“Who’s asking?”, Arthur wanted to know, building himself up to his full height. 

He had a strange look in his eye as if he wasn’t sure whether to scare them off or take them to bed. Either one. Or both. 

“We, ah, well, we-”, the one stammered again, nervously fidgeting for words. 

“We want our fortunes told.”, the other one said sharply. “They say you people know how to read palms and teacups. We want to know our future.”

Do you now?, Tommy thought, his eye-catching the reflection of the moon on those earrings, those pretty, expensive earrings. Peal and gold. 

“Yes.”, the first one, the shy one said. “Please.”

“Oh I can read palms alright.”, Arthur said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Arthur,”, Tommy said, cutting off his older brother, who glared at him as if Tommy had slapped him. 

He gestured for his brother to take a few steps away. 

“What are you on about, Tommy?”, Arthur demanded to know. “I like the look of the tall one. You stay out of it.”

“Shut up and don’t think with your cock for once.”, he sneered. 

His brother’s face hardened. 

“You can either get your end wet, or…we can make a sweet little something off of them.”

Arthur shifted on his feet, humming under his breath. 

“You think?”, he said. “Bringing them to Aunt Pol? Or Queen Boswell?”

Tommy shook his head. 

“We’re not bringing them anywhere.”

Birmingham was too far away, where Polly was haggling with the baby and Ada, and that Boswell hag would only take more than her share of a cut. 

Besides, these girls weren’t kin. They didn’t know what they were asking for. So they wouldn’t know what they would receive either. 

Arthur didn’t seem too convinced. 

“Mother said not to mess with things we didn’t understand. That if we disrespect the traditions, there’d be punishment.”

Their mother had said that. Their mother had also had most of her visions when she had drunk a gallon of rum or whisky in a single evening. 

Tommy was already thinking about how much those earrings would buy them - food, or new winter shoes for the whole lot of them. Maybe even a horse they could train to race. 

He’d like a horse, but those shoes would have to come first. 

“Just let me do the talking, eh?”, he told Arthur before turning back to the women. 

“So what made you come to us?”, Tommy asked, after bringing them into Polly's wagon and telling Arthur to stand guard. 

He could see the girls' eyes dart around it, picking up in little details. The crochet curtains, the Black Madonna, the framed pictures of the family. The countless candles. 

The girls exchanged a look, then one glanced down while the other squirmed in her seat. 

“My brother thinks it's all a hoax.”, the first told her lap. “But he wasn't there when…”

She took a deep breath. 

“Our mother used to hire a woman to tell their fortunes. A traveller woman.”, she said. 

“We weren't allowed to be there, but we saw her enter. Even as a child I felt it, and marvelled at the power of this woman who, though veiled, could electrify a room.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper. 

“Everything she said came true.”

Tommy nodded solemnly. 

“It's good to know you have a respect for these matters.”, he said. “Oftentimes those that are not learned in these arts underestimate the forces at play.”

He tried his best to choose words as ceremonious as possible. 

“Are you sure you want me to read your palms and tell your future?” 

The girls nodded eagerly. 

“We have money!”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a few coins. Tommy knew at a glance it wasn't a stingy offer, but the pearls would be worth more and so he shook his head. 

“Knowledge of the future cannot be bought with coin. It has to be a trade.”

“A trade?”, the shorter one asked. 

Tommy hummed. 

“Sometimes they'd tell the farmers the days weather and get a few apples for their worries. A fair price for something trivial. Are you asking about something trivial?”

He already knew they weren't, that was why he was telling these lies. 

It wasn't long before one urged the other and she took off one of her earrings. 

Just like he had hoped. 

“I want to ask about women.”, she said, slipping off her gloves and handing her hands to him in a show of surprising determination. 

“On the continent there are whispers of a woman's emancipation, of votes for women and equal rights to men.”

Tommy nearly laughed. 

“Will that happen here in England too?”

She looked almost eager, like a child desperate for sweets. 

Tommy took her hand in his, squinted, then ran his fingers along her palm. 

Just like he had thought, a soft hand that smelled of expensive ointment, probably lavender. 

“I can see you think highly of the value and purpose of your sex.”, he said, before contonuing. “Others will come to realise it's indispensability in a more clear, more distinct way.”

Poor brother, father or lover to deal with the consequences of his words, but Tommy wanted that earring, so he decided to add just a little more. 

He took a deep shaking breath and nodded. 

“And yes- don't let the distance to the continent discourage you. What happens there will spread.”

He lowered her hand gently. 

“Me now.”, the other one insisted. 

“A moment.”, Tommy asked, dabbing his dry brow with his sleeve. “Tis not an easy task for me, nor was it an easy question.”

He bit back his smirk at the look of sympathy in the woman's eyes. 

Finally he cleared his throat and urged the other woman to give him her hand. Gently, he stroked her palm while glaring deeply into her eyes. 

“I'm getting married soon.”, she said. “Or I may be. I'm not too sure about him.”

“Do you love him?” Tommy asked. 

“I do, but…”, she sighed. “He is a soldier, training to be an officer.”

“And?”

“I'm not sure I want to be married to a young Officer in His Majesty's army. But it's a thankless business being a soldier's wife.”

“And now you have come for insight to clear your doubts.”, he asked, before glancing at her palm. 

He took more time now, running along the lines of her palm, shifting and squinting and making a right show of it. 

“I can tell you one thing.”, he said. “It will not be thankless.”

“No?”, she asked. 

“Oh no- if you think your intended is set for a dull career in the forces, you are much mistaken.” He said. “I see service, yes, duty and courage too, but it will not be thankless. It will be celebrated and honored and remembered for generations to come.”

“My George?”, she asked surprised. “You can see that just in my hand?”

“That and more.”, Tommy promised her, picking up in the glint in her eyes. She may not like the idea of being a soldier's wife, but she seemed to enjoy the thought of being a hero's ons. 

“Medals, marches, hymns-”, he nodded, trying to piece together what little he knew of soldiery, most of it what he had picked up from pinched newspapers. 

“And the pride of our whole nation.”

Wasn't that what they said soldiers were? Those soldiers at the races certainly thought they were- as if all of England should bow before them just because they put on a sense of importance along with their uniforms.

But those words made her beam from ear to ear- both now without their earrings, as they left, clearly content with their visions of heroism and women's rise. 

Tommy let them go gladly, his fingers toying with the earrings in his pocket. They were worth a pretty penny and could stretch far. 

Easy money, for once. He didn't even pity those two for their ignorance. Of course he had never learned to read palms or cards or dreams, why should he? 

He had never shared Polly's conviction or Arthur's fear. Why should he? It was all just smoke and mirrors, nonsense, and charlatanry. Nothing to lose sleep over, he thought, as he tossed one of the earrings up in the air and caught it again.

~

Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear your thoughts

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08 @kmc1989 @trixie23

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore

[crayfurbs]

Bejewled furby resurfaces - June 2023

Hello everyone! I have been on a slight hiatus due to a myriad of personal reasons, I am back for a short post with some interesting news

a GENUINE Bejeweled furby has surfaced! 

Foreword: 

This bejeweled furby is in my opinion the only one to exist, as with much other furby information numbers of units produced is a shaky 25 year-old game of telephone. But having researched archived Tiger and FAO sites, it appears all promotional images are the same snowball furby (Notably with green eyes) and we haven’t really seen any different versions, For the information in this post I consulted several archived websites on archive.org along with the new listing 

Background info: 

The following description is transcribed from the original FAO Schwarz listing for the bejeweled furby. 

“Created by designer Sidney Mobell. The world's most exciting tay is now the world's

most precious. bedecked with 156 gleaming and glittering genuine gemstones Lovable Furby comes adorned with a tiara necklace. and earrings crafted in platinum and 18k gold and containing 63 full cut diamonds (3.7 ctw) 44 rubies (4.5 ctw) blue sapphires (5 3 ctw) and emeralds (1.O ctw). AIl 3 pieces are removable So you can wear them too!

A portion of the proceeds will benefit the word class hasbro children's hospital–”

The listing + info

So here is the description of the listing, the starting bid is 1,200.

(ill add it in later once the auction ends)

Now for those of you at home, you may be thinking... a $100,000 furby with an auction cap of $2,000. somthing must be fishy right?

but on paper... the bejweled furby isnt worth that much, and Ill explain.

For those of you who are not jewelers (I have only taken intro classes myself) this furby may appear to be absolutely studded in expensive gems… but in reality the true value is being obscured by the cwt, or Carat Total Weight, this value is in reference to the TOTAL cumulative weight of the gemstones. So for example, the 63 diamonds CWT is 3.7, so each diamond is only 0.06 ct. so in reality the QUALITY of the dimaonds used is very low, for comparison you can purchase 25 loose diamonds of the same color, carat and clarity for around $50

So after a very novice rough calculation the total value of all the metals and gemstones here dont seem to total over $800. This is why I think the piece was designed to be a symbolic representation to the person who donated the $100,000 to the hospital, rather than a truly $100,000 furby which is why the capped value of the auction is $2,000

Conclusion + opinions

I still think this is an absolute amazing piece of furby history, one that I admittedly was not to familiar with, but was aware of in my deep dives into the furby archived sites, I think that the resurfacing of this piece is a ode to the furby community, and the fact that we are STILL actively learning about undiscovered information relating to Furbys a quarter of a century later! This toy line was only produced for just under 3 years but has provided a trove of information that's out there just waiting to be discovered! 

And with that, ciao

-Cray 

[satohqbanana]

Arcanium:Magia Scrapped Prologue

A/N: This is how I planned Arcanium:Magia to open. I have since realized that it contained little context regarding the characters' current relationships and dynamics, which made their conflict pretty confusing. Most of this prologue is also all about the dialogue as this was my first attempt transitioning this story from its original RPG format to a written format. Definitely a huge learning experience for me as a primarily fanfic writer.

The sun settled between the mountains and bathed the valley city of Kaleidopolis in warm hues. Avians and dragons flew above the city, past the Great Heartwood that stood so proudly over its subjects.

Beneath the canopy of the colossal tree lay Heartwood Academy, the school of mages. Teachers dismissed classes and doors burst open. Green uniforms and flowing capes filled the halls as apprentice mages rushed to and fro, excited to go home and rest for the night. A select few students opted to stay - some out of dedication to their studies, and some due to instructions from their mentors.

One of such people was 14-year-old Grace Ardor III.

Earlier that day, a teacher told her to visit the office of the Head Spellcaster, Mistress Jewel. Assumptions swirled in Gracie's head as she took deep breaths to calm herself down. Her grades, her practicals, her relationships with her classmates - what could the matter be?

Gracie made her way to the Head Spellcaster’s office. When she knocked, the Head Spellcaster's assistant showed her inside and told her to wait. Her chest tightened in the heavy air.

The office was divided into two: a waiting area and the workroom. Gracie stayed in the waiting area while the assistant and the Head Spellcaster held their discussion behind a thin divider wall. Colorful maps, plaques, and portraits contrasted its white walls. A tall shelf with glass doors and gold embellishments stood by the corner, filled with books on high-level magic.

As Gracie stared beyond the glass, something moved in the reflection, and she jumped in her seat with a swallowed scream. A folder scurried by - now, a group of grey rats scurried by to carry and slide a folder under the door. Gracie muttered hushed complaints under her breath as the folder disappeared and the rats scampered away. She could never get used to the school's little helpers.

As she pulled her legs to the chair, knocks came, and the door swung open. Through it walked a familiar face with a mole under the eye: Ireus Maverick, one of her classmates. He announced his presence with a loud voice.

"Miss J! Ireus Maverick is... hey, what are you doing here?"

Gracie ­turned her head away. "...I'm waiting for Mistress Jewel."

"You got in trouble? Again?! Hah! What can we ever expect from you?"

She forced her gaze on the still-open door and hoped Ireus would leave. However, as he babbled away, a lithe figure with a purple hood went through the doorway. The person closed the door and turned around: Duke Desmond, another classmate.

"You're loud," he told Ireus, then turned to Gracie, "Hm? You're here too?"

Finally, Mistress Jewel's assistant opened the workroom door.

"Thank you for waiting, children. You may now go inside."

Ireus huffed. "All of us?"

"Yes. All of you."

What a twist! Though confused, Gracie followed her classmates into the workroom and sat between them.

Grey rats flitted about, moving files and objects across the room. Behind a desk, Mistress Jewel sat poised and smiling. The light from her lattice window crowned her shaved head and gleamed through her studded earrings.

"Hello, children," she greeted, "Grace Ardor III, Ireus Maverick, and Duke Desmond. Do you know why you're here?"

No, Gracie knew she'd done no wrong. Nonetheless, she threw her head down and blurted, "I'm sorry! I didn't do it!"

"Please calm down."

"I swear I didn't. I, I was just--"

"Don't worry, Gracie. It's not like that. Please lift your head."

Gracie released a soft sigh. But what could the matter be?

"How about you two?" asked Mistress Jewel.

"It's gotta be an errand," answered Ireus.

"Don't care. Just make it quick," said Desmond.

"Ever so curt, are we?" Mistress Jewel chuckled. "It is, indeed, an errand."

Gracie whined and groaned with her classmates. Mistress Jewel then reached to the floor and a cinder rat ran up her arm.

"In fact, it involves our dear cinder rats."

Gracie wailed. Compared to her initial assumptions, reality was far more detestable.

According to the head spellcaster, it was a directive from their elusive, yet-unseen Headmaster. He assigned the task to the three based not on their qualifications as mage hopefuls, but their flaws as students. The rats brought three folders and Mistress Jewel read off each file:

Grace Ardor III, princess and heir apparent of the Prisma Kingdom, often used her classmates as servants to skip on schoolwork or as scapegoats for her own mistakes.

Ireus Maverick, son of two prolific healers and a genius academic, resorted to fists when commands or insults didn't earn his classmates' respect or cooperation.

Duke Desmond, the new kid in town, though an exceptional worker on solo tasks, refused to be anything but, followed his own rules, and ignored most of his classmates.

Gracie cringed, Ireus bargained, and Desmond protested. Mistress Jewel cast a glare and the three quieted.

She then continued, "It isn’t appropriate for you three to continue acting this way. The teachers convened on your cases and the Headmaster decided to send you three to the basement for an errand."

A few days ago, large brown rats chewed their way into the basement. They claimed the place for themselves and bullied the smaller cinder rats. With the retreat of the academy's little helpers, the basement had since been in disarray.

The school staff applied remedies by sealing the intruders' passageways and employing pest control measures. However, the size of the basement posed a challenge and the problem persisted.

"This is where you three come in," explained Mistress Jewel, "Your group is to pick up where our staff and our little helpers left off. You will not only deal with the remaining thug rats, but also accomplish the cinder rats' abandoned duties. Do not worry, for in the basement, we installed a blue crystal for you to recharge with. Am I understood?"

The boys bemoaned their fate and their now-occupied after-class schedule. However, Gracie had a different concern.

"M-Mistress Jewel! If this is a group task, then who's the leader?"

The head spellcaster widened her eyes and tugged her lips upward. "Oh! Why, thank you for reminding me! To answer your question, the leader is you, Gracie!"

Ireus jumped from his seat and almost squished a cinder rat beneath his foot. "Miss J, you can't do this! Gracie can't be the leader; she's a joke!"

Though appalled by the comment, Gracie agreed with Ireus, as did Desmond. Mistress Jewel's smile however did not change.

"Until you're done with your errand, you may not leave. I'll see you by dinnertime!"

With that, Mistress Jewel called forth her magic and an ethereal glow surrounded Gracie and her teammates. Beneath them, an arcane circle appeared, and the light grew brighter and brighter...

In a flash, the young mages disappeared. The cinder rats took the folders away and brought a sealed envelope before the head spellcaster. Jewel traced the verdant green wax seal as she massaged the bridge of her nose.

The workroom door opened and in came her hooved assistant. The wide-eyed faun remarked, "How energetic! I thought the boy would run out the door when you revealed he's not the leader."

"I've no energy to deal with the kids anymore, Yara. Could you kindly ensure that those three won't get into trouble?" Her assistant grinned. "Of course."

Current Tag List: @philosophika, @amaiguri, @thecomfywriter Feel free to ask to be tagged!

[shannonsketches]

I have a headcanon I'm curious about your opinion on if you don't mind, as I've seen many differing opinions on this.

In BotW, Urbosa brings up Nabooru by name, even stating her to be the namesake of Divine Beast Vah Naboris. The Divine Beasts are also believed to be based off of the masks once worn by the ancient Sages, and to me the way the avatars wear the old sage helms when you put on the Divine Helms all but confirms it.

The Nabooru we know and love, I am not sure how likely it is her name alone survived all the way to Hyrule, especially having the ancient part of TotK being over 10,000 years before the Era of the Wilds, and OoT being even further before that (at least as I headcanon it. Hyrule has been destroyed and refounded before. Why couldn't it have happened again?)

That being said, I believe that while the tale of the Sage of Spirit may not have made it to the creation of the Divine Beasts, her name did, often being a beautiful and strong name for young Gerudo. Eventually this name landed upon the young girl who would eventually grow up to harness the very power of the skies, gaining the graces of the newborn kingdom of Hyrule and fighting against her people's corrupted, demonic king, donning a mask that would inspire a machine that embraced her power and then mothering a bloodline of strong matriarchs who would carry her command over lightning in their blood.

Therefore: I believe that the Sage of Lighting from the Era of Myth is named Nabooru, likely unknowingly sharing the name of another great Gerudo hero from a time long forgotten.

That's a great headcanon, and it works well within your framing! And I agree that there's probably been thousands of children named after the original sages. It sounds solid to me!

I haven't read much on the differing headcanons, so I'm in no place to really compare them opinion-wise, as I personally don't place the Wilds Era with the other timelines. It feels to me like a retcon/consolidation of all the games, so I don't try to place it in concurrence, but I salute those of you who do! It's hard work!

This isn't intended to debunk anyone's theory, I'm just gonna ramble about neat things in Game Design real quick lol

I do think there are very distinct and intentional design pulls from Nabooru in the SoL's design that are not (as far as I know) consistent with other Gerudo design, including Riju and Urbosa. Though her design is Completely Different from Nabooru in OoT, there are a lot of very subtle detail references:

Credit to @/sidonisms for the model pull

The most obvious to me is the color of her secret stone: Despite the color for lightning stones in both BotW and TotK being topaz (Ganondorf's favored gem and pre-triforce ability in OoT) and it becoming more of a gold on Riju, this sage's stone is specifically the color of the Spirit token from Ocarina of Time (shown more clearly below). It's also the same shape, but I've dismissed that since they're all the same shape.

She also appears to be one of the few if not the only?? Gerudo with a vertical earring, where most of them wear hoops (also true in OoT! The other Gerudo wear studs like Ganondorf did pre-timeskip -- fun fact, Ganondorf wears hoops in TotK).

While most Gerudo wear an arm band or two, most of them are solid bands. The Sage's, I suspect, is intentionally complex (albeit much more simplified than OoT's) to be reminiscent of Nabooru's. The placement and shape language in her necklace, the placement and stone pattern of her belt, the golden leg braces that only resemble Ganondorf's also imply references to me (only Nabooru and Ganondorf wore the star shaped crests in OoT), and her neon lip color! Which I take to be a reference to Nabooru's original Ganguro Girl design influence.

ALTHOUGH,

It's also very possible that they split Nabooru's aspects into two separate characters; As this woman's high ponytail in a golden cuff, distinctly shaped/colored necklace, and apparent status as Ganondorf's right hand also appear to be direct references to Nabooru:

Maybe it's like Majin Buu and they split her into Nabu and Ru.

Or OOOOH MAYBE it's the SAME character, and it IS a direct reference to OoT Nabooru, since they both have the same eyes and lips and skin tone (and nail polish!), and she just changed her look when she started doubting Ganondorf. I think I just gave myself a new hc, haha, thank you for making me think about this.

ANYWAY!!

For me and my headcanons I feel exactly the same way about the Sage of Lightning that I do about TotK Ganondorf in that -- Yep, that's Nabooru. Also, it's not Nabooru at all. It both is and isn't. It's Naboo-AU-ru.

But my personal hcs aside, I think yours work very well within your framing and make a lot of sense! My opinion is "Yes, Good."

[rwac96]

Prompt

Original Stud Crossover

Jaune gas Tifa and Lumine meet his parents. What he was hoping was that they make a good impression in his folks. He did get that, but he also got them flirting with him also. Worse part is when they both whisper into his ears at the same time, as they make sure that he knows what they want to do with him with a sultry tone.

Flirting.

Juniper Arc, the mother of eight children, opened the front door to her home to see her only son, Jaune. Her eyes brightened as the young man entered the household. She immediately wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. It has been a while since she saw her boy, only seeing him sparingly in video calls during his time in Beacon. Then, her husband, Arthur Arc, marches down the stairs to see the embrace between mother and son.

"Jaune!" The couple says to one of the fruits of their loins, who has a bashful smile on his face.

"Hey Mom," Jaune greets, "Hey Dad. It's great to see you guys," the young Huntsman says.

"It's good to see you, son," Papa Arc replies, ruffling his son's blonde hair.

"Oh, it's nice to see my baby come home," Mama Arc cooed to him, which made Jaune grimace and blush.

"Yeah," the young blonde rubs the back of his neck, and I brought company.

"Hello," a young woman, sporting blonde hair and golden eyes. She was dressed in a peculiar white, blue, and gold attire. "it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. & Mrs. Arc."

"Mom, Dad, this' Lumine," Jaune gestures to the gold-eyed woman, "she's a friend of mine."

"Friend, hmm?" The young woman arches a brow at the swordsman, placing her hands on her hips. "Funny way of saying 'someone who saved your life'," she teasingly pokes the Huntsman's shoulder.

"Aww," Mama Arc gushed, "Jaune brought home a girlfriend."

"Mom!" The young Knight groans, feeling his cheeks burning.

"You gonna introduce me too, Jaune?" a red-eyed, dark brunette spoke up as she enters the house; who sported a noticeable bust.

The swordsman sighed, scratching at the top of his hair. "Mom, Dad," he gestures to the other young woman, "this is Tifa."

"Nice to meet ya," Arthur says to the newcomer, "it's nice to see Jaune making some good friends."

"Good friends," Tifa says, then leans toward Jaune's ear. "A friend," she began to whisper to him, "who has a big, thick cazzo that pleasures me."

"And me," Lumine leans in, whispering as well. "and it hits all the right spots~."

[justminawrites]

there are no synonyms for half

AO3

Summary: For as long as Luka Couffaine could remember, he was a half. It was only when he turned fifteen, watching the dying sun set over the Seine, did he realise that the other half of him had only ever been other people’s secrets.

For as long as Luka Couffaine could remember, he was a half of something. 

It came with the territory of being a twin, his mother would tell him as much, but Luka’s melody sounded empty in a way Juleka’s never was. Every birthday, every anniversary, every time a neighbour cooed and fussed over how much of Anarka’s face her children had inherited, however infrequent that was. A houseboat rarely had anything resembling a neighbourhood, after all. 

‘Ma.. why didn’t Dad want us? 

At five, Luka had somehow gotten it into his head that his incompletion lied in the absence of a parent. His missing notes were hidden in the ever elusive tune of who his father was, and once his mother told him, he’d finally be able to complete his song. Anarka Couffaine only huffed in disbelief and switched off the Jagged Stone TV Special he’d been watching. 

Yer father was a real scallywag! Luka looked down at the acoustic guitar he’d held closer than any stuffed animal, and wondered if he too was half scallywag.

I don’t want to go.

His mother stiffened, one leg out the door of the gilded school gates. Juleka turned around in confusion as he dropped her hand and then slid off his backpack. Unzipping the blue-and-green printed fabric, Luka pulled out the ukulele he’d hidden and held it up triumphantly like it was some sort of prize. 

I want to go to music school. He panicked when Anarka crossed her arms in disbelief, and tried to find the words to promise how he’d learn every instrument and do all of his and Juleka’s chores everyday if she let him. 

Luka was only ten at the time, so he didn’t know how to tell his mother that he believed he was half music, that it was the one thing that made him feel whole. The tunes would echo off of the walls of his heart and fill up the empty parts of him until he could imagine them colliding, overflowing, and finally spilling out of him again.

His mother only sighed, ruffled his hair and picked up the discarded backpack, before turning to leave.

Luka ran after her, leaving his twin behind, a lone ship in the sea of melody. 

Jules, what’s wrong?

Even before Juleka rushed into his arms, her face already crumpled and stained with tears, Luka was half rage. 

She refused to tell him what exactly happened but clutched his fingers tightly all the way back to the Liberty. He could feel the anger bubbling under his skin as he took in her skinned knees and the bluntly chopped ends of hair she’d braided so carefully that very morning. The feeling was so all encompassing that when Anarka took his face in her hands, she pulled away almost immediately, claiming he’d contracted a fever.

Ow..

Luka was half fire the night he pierced his own ears. Juleka looked at him with wide eyes as he ran his bloody fingers under the faucet, and gave her a reassuring smile. Doesn’t it hurt?, she asked him unable to do much more than look at the black studs that would forever adorn his ears. 

Luka didn’t know how to tell her that he could simply pour whatever pain was left into the empty parts of himself until it fell so far down that he didn’t hear it anymore. So he shook his head instead. 

When he insisted on walking Juleka to François Dupont Elementary the next morning, Anarka sharply took his face in her hands again, so quickly that Luka winced. Her eyes grazed the new, round black dots on his ears that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday and met her son’s defiant blue eyes. Yer not burnin’ up anymore, was all she had to say about the matter.

Is that Juleka’s brother? He looks really scary!

Luka was half pride as he pushed through the crowd of fifth graders that had gathered around him despite themselves, their faces shining with admiration and envy, gold and green. 

It was a mixture of pride and justice, he would realise much later, that made him exaggeratedly stomp his way over to Juleka’s bullies and wave a threatening finger at their ringleader, a blonde Bourgeois who was so startled, she fell backwards into a puddle of sludge. He didn’t say anything but he hardly needed to open his mouth amidst the cruel laughter of forty kids to know his job was done. Relief shone in the corners of his sister’s eyes when she rushed out of school that evening.

Nice to meet you ma-ma-marinette.

Luka was half shame when he saw the girl’s face fall, her dollish blue eyes crinkling with tears. He hadn’t expected to feel something stirring in the empty parts of him when one of Juleka’s friends stumbled into his room, every emotion under the sun flickering on her face, and he’d been just as startled by her presence, as she was by his.

Sorry.. I tend to make more sense with this. 

Luka clutched his guitar closer even though he was the one that asked her to sit beside him, and braced himself. Sure enough, the hollowness inside him steadily filled with the flutter of a thousand beating, insect wings as Marinette carefully acquiesced, the ends of her ballet flats hovering inches above the ground. Ladybug wings. 

For once, it was the outside world that held its breath as Luka’s insides roared with a harmony he didn’t know how to play. He forced himself to remain composed as she blinked her secretive blue eyes up at him, concealing a question and a challenge of her own. 

How do you do that?

He’d hardly strummed a tune, but her face betrayed wonder as his fingers echoed the chords that clanged around in her own empty spaces, whatever he could hear over the clamour of newness in his own heart, anyway. She slipped away in the midst of his explanation, taking the white noise with her, to admire the Jagged Stone poster he’d spent hours gluing down, and the collection of guitar picks right below it. 

The silence in him returned, somehow louder than before now that he knew it could be filled.

You can have it if you like. 

He was beside her before he knew it, eyes glued to the guitar pick between her slender, calloused fingers. Marinette gasped in delight and the flutter-buzz returned, rising a notch, arresting Luka’s heart, as though the ladybugs that had overflowed his empty half had now begun to crawl into his lungs. But there, under all the white noise, when they were standing this close, he could almost taste it– one unmistakable beat, and then another and another; the morse code of her heart song.

You’re a funny girl, Marinette.

He didn’t want to go but Luka was afraid he’d completely lose his wits if he listened to the full force of the ladybug wings any longer. 

It was only when he was halfway up the stairs did he realise there was a lone buzzing bouncing off the walls of the vacant half of his heart. She’d left something behind.

Personally, I think a girl like you deserves to feel more like.. this.

Luka slipped off the deck chair to sit beside Marinette, guitar in hand. 

It had only been a week since they’d met but he’d found himself unable to enjoy sleep in its entirety. The lone ladybug she’d forgotten haunted his nights, humming a tune too faint for him to hear, and he would stay up, straining his ears to grasp a single note, as the light of dawn flooded through the portholes of the ship.

Luka liked the way Marinette always closed her eyes while she listened to him play. He pretended not to notice the slump of her shoulders, as she relaxed into the chords he strummed specially to catch her. He’d long since stopped wondering if people experienced the world the same way he did. He simply brought her peace, in exchange for a bit of her chaos.

And whoever made you feel this way, is nothing but a–

He played a slightly funky tune and she giggled, filling his chest with so much fluttering (an applause of wings) that he hardly dared to open his mouth for fear a ladybug might escape. And then how would he explain himself?

Say, are you free tomorrow..

For her? Luka was free for the rest of his life.

You should probably go over and talk to him.

The cavernous silence returned in the subway. 

Luka was half regret as he shifted on the blue polyester seat, trying his best to stare out of the window, to concentrate on something, anything, besides the bittersweet silence in his lungs. The ladybugs in his chest must’ve frozen to death hours ago, in the skating rink, where he’d watched Marinette watch Adrien with the unwavering focus of a musician bent on mastering an instrument. 

He told himself he didn’t mind, not really. Adrien filled her with wings of her own (butterflies maybe?) and he’d be too busy piecing together his new melody to do the same. It would be best to let her go, now, when the feelings were fresh enough that they’d wilt under the slightest pressure. 

It would be best to forget about the kiss. 

The quick peck. The obligatory press of Marinette’s soft lips to his cheek before she was whisked away, by the wind, by the universe. He breathed out slowly, catching a glimpse of himself on the dark glass of the of the subway car. Oh no. 

It could’ve been from the from the sudden drop in temperature in the skating rink, but the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears, and quite damningly, his cheeks– were a bright, unmistakable scarlet.

The ladybugs had found a new home.

Are ye blushing?

Luka was half mortification when he finally made it home and buried himself under ice packs and blankets, determined to be rid of the crimson flush if it killed him. 

Anarka didn’t need to take his face in her hands this time to know something was bothering him. He watched her quietly slip into his room and rob it of anything with sharp points, before gently closing the door. 

Still no news about the contest?

Luka meant it to be encouraging but when Marinette’s face fell he wished he could take it back immediately. He wished he could take everything back and never say another word again. While the blue-eyed girl fretted about wether her costumes influenced the reception Kitty Section’s audition tape received, he put an arm on her shoulder to stop her train of thought and remind her about the wonders of real-life paperwork. 

She smiled up at him gratefully but before the ladybugs under skin (he still hadn’t managed to get rid of them) sensed this opportunity, Ivan’s outraged yell from across the room, scared them back into hiding.

You’ll never have a future in this business, you’ll never make another costume, because as far as everyone’s concerned– you’ll be the ripoff artists!

Luka was half fury, a cold fire this time, as he watched Bob Roth’s sleazy grin drip with venom as he held Marinette’s hand in his vice-like grip. She shook him off quickly but his words hung in the air like a promise, threatening to choke them both permanently if they didn’t leave immediately like the good little children they were.

Hello Silencer..

He would’ve appreciated the irony if it were any other situation. Hawk moth couldn’t begin to imagine just how much the power of silence was befitting of someone like him. Luka put on the akumatised mask obediently as the supervillain’s monologue came to an end. 

He stopped fighting the darkness and for a while, Luka was half nothing.

Did you really mean those things you said when you were akumatised?

Luka knit his eyebrows in frustration, wracking his memory for some kind of indication of what he could’ve said to fluster Marinette so much. Had he said something about the ice-rink? Had he said something about the kiss? 

He took a deep breath and decided it was time for the speech he’d rehearsed over and over again in front of the mirror, since he’d returned from their not-date weeks ago. Clear as a musical note, Sincere as a melody, Luka couldn’t tear his gaze away from the pools of blue in her eyes, even as he had the sinking sensation that he’d already passed the threshold of no return. 

Luckily, the lights were so erratic, he was sure she couldn’t see the ladybugs huddled beneath his mask, but the buzzing was deafening, pop rocks in the back of his throat, leaving him so light-headed he’d promptly run from Marinette before she could figure out how to respond.

He hoped he hadn’t ruined everything by telling her.

Luka Couffaine, this is the Miraculous of the Snake.

He was half fear when The Hero of Paris held out a palm sized miracle box in her red and black-spotted hand. 

The emptiness in him leaned into the idea of using the superhero persona to fill the void but the other part of him, the only part of him worth listening to, quaked under the pressure. But Paris wasn’t his priority, saving his mother and Juleka was. So he took it. 

When the Kwami of Intuition, Sass, appeared, bowing his head formally, Luka wondered if those snake-like eyes could see right through him. From his cheeks filled with ladybugs, all the way through to his bottomless pit of emptiness that now held the aftermath of an affection, a wreckage of insect wings, wrong chords, and crumpled speeches.

The Kwami only smiled knowingly, and he felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. Still he said the words, and then Luka was half Viperion. 

What do you think?

Luka looked up from strumming the tune trying to gauge Marinette’s reaction from behind a tower of macaron boxes. Her eyes softened, but stayed open, and he immediately knew it was nowhere close to being good enough.

She was quick to praise his skill though, and he offered her a ride to Le Grand Paris for the Bourgeois’ 20th wedding Anniversary, on the back of his delivery bike. 

The ladybugs from Luka’s face swarmed back into his chest with vengeance as Marinette hugged his torso, her fingers clutching his jacket for dear life as he pedalled through Parisian traffic as quickly as he dared. 

This time, when she thanked him with a kiss, Luka was able to pinpoint the exact moment the crimson menaces overran his flushed cheeks. 

He turned away quickly, (hiding his face in her spare helmet), so quickly that he couldn’t hear the last thing she said to him over the sound of a million ladybugs taking flight.

Are you sure you want to hear it?

She knew what he was really asking her, of course. Are you sure this is what you want– that I am what you want? 

Marinette nodded, leaning into him and Luka held his breath, plucking out the perfect rhythm as the watery sunshine glinted off the slick, cobblestoned pavement across from them.

He’d listened carefully for the chords in her heart every time they’d talked, and painstakingly pieced together its melody but even though he’d double checked, triple-checked even, Luka felt the inescapable presence of doubt slither from out his stomach, curling its wicked tail around his half-empty heart. 

Marinette’s tune sounded just as incomplete as his.

Under the moonlight, by the sea– KISS ME!

He rubbed the back of his neck (where the ladybugs were gathered), embarrassed. It was the easiest question he knew, so he hadn’t counted on Marinette’s ridiculously competitive spirit when she’d yelled out the answer with her whole heart.

I mean, if you want to.

She did want to, and so did he. But even as Luka leaned in to press his lips to hers, to pray his kiss would somehow wake the sleeping butterflies in her chest, strain to hear the final note in her shrouded melody– he felt the interruption before it came.

The ceiling shook and Marinette ran off to get them something to drink, forgetting the white linoleum cup that she’d left beside him, filled to the brim with orange juice and disappointment.

He watched her go, like he’d done so often. Taking her secrets and her chaos with her.

The truth, Luka, is the only thing I can’t tell you.

He had never been half pain before, not like this. Not poisonous, acidic agony  that filled the empty parts of him so throughly that it flooded his lungs, burning the ladybugs, drowning the music out completely. 

It hurt to think, it hurt to breathe. 

Luka wasn’t surprised that the akuma found him so quickly, but he curled into himself as Marinette’s voice scrabbled for purchase in his mind, begging him to fight the temptation, fight the evil that would undoubtedly lead to more suffering. 

He couldn’t blame her. She didn’t understand how her voice was the thing that hurt him the most.

Why did you abandon me?

Jagged Stone’s lips were painted white with Truth’s compulsion power but Luka knew that whatever came out of his former hero's mouth now wouldn’t matter at all. 

The damage had already been done. He’d seen the scars it’d left on his mother’s broken melody, his sister’s quiet song.

His own silent, silent heart.

It was hard to tell which part was him and which was the akuma, when he hurled his would-be father from the terrace of a several-story building and set off towards the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. 

You know, not seeing you is a hundred times worse than seeing you, Marinette.

The familiar rush of ladybugs filled his chest when she put her forgiving hand on his shoulder, as though they were flowing out of her and into him through the lightest of touches.

Luka swallowed the confession in his throat when she asked to be friends, much to the chagrin of a hundred scarlet wings beating in his ears, and pulled her in for a hug so she wouldn’t see it on his face, plain-as-day.

The milky white moonlight caressed his cheek fondly, like a mother would, as he breathed in Marinette’s rose perfume. He knew had to let her go, it was just a matter of time. 

Foolishly, he wished he’d kept the snake miraculous he’d borrowed weeks ago, just so he could have a second chance with her. A chance to do it again, do it right this time. A chance to sweep her off her feet; to put the butterflies under her skin before Adrien, before anyone.

But Luka understood with a sinking feeling that even that wouldn’t be enough. He’d watched the way his parents clawed at one another’s sanity mere hours ago, unable to see that their fighting was turning down Juleka’s quiet symphony even further into herself.

People like them, like him, didn’t get second chances. Not when it mattered, anyway.

Awesome! I always wanted to be the Knitting Fairy in real life!

Luka was half terror when he watched Paris’ bravest superhero transform into the love of his life. 

It transcended panic, surpassed horror. The worst thing in the world that could’ve happened just happened and he had no idea what to do about it.

Marinette? He said her name like a prayer, like a wish that hovered on his tongue ever so delicately, ready to disappear into the wind. But as the girl turned around and beamed at him, the happiest smile on her face, Luka finally felt the final piece of of her melody click into place.

Second chance!

He took the dread and stuffed it down, deep, deep down inside of him; somewhere under the graveyard of ladybugs, shredded posters and scales. The shock would have to wait, he could only be one thing at a time and right now he had to be Viperion.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to be what my parents wanted me to be!

Luka wished he hadn’t turned around. 

Where Chat Noir once stood, now Adrien Agreste took his place, looking vaguely cheery despite what he’d just said moments before. He didn’t even need to use his powers to know Chat Noir had gotten hit by the akuma on purpose. 

Marinette hadn’t noticed yet, too busy talking to a man whose childhood dream was to become a stuffed animal, and the anxiety rose up like bile in the back of his throat. He’d been half pain before but this was something new.

Luka was half pity, half hope. Half defeat. 

His heart seemed to be breaking over and over in his chest, the muscle spasming so violently that everything in him was instantly ground to dust. The walls, the silence, the ladybugs. All the pain he’d carried around with him since his very first akumatisation.  

Because nothing he was going through could ever compare to Marinette and Adrien being... to them being..

Second chance!

Viperion was wholly conviction when he reassured Ladybug that he’d make sure no one would discover their secret identities. If he were still Luka he’d wonder how he hadn’t seen it before– her strength, her determination, the way Marinette’s nose crinkled when she was focused on something, all of it matched the red and black-spotted superhero to a T. 

But he, much like the rest of Paris, had only ever seen what they wanted to see. And Luka hadn’t wanted to see her in pain.

Not even me- luckily Wishmaker never hit you or Chat Noir.

He expected the lie to sour his tongue, turn his skin blue with irony, but it came easily, almost too easily for his comfort. But Marinette (because she would only ever be Marinette to him) smiled like his word was more than enough for her to trust him forever and turned to leave, like she’d done so many times before.

Now he knew why. 

The ladybugs in chest (ha!) swarmed against his rib cage as she left, tiny wings beating furiously as though they were trying to break right through his skin and follow her back home. 

Before Luka could think to question why, he was already running after her, reading the fluttering inside him like a compass, leading him further and further away from the street, down the sidewalk, all the way to the only thing that ever made him whole. All the way to her– 

Luka! Thank you for hiding me in here!

He wanted it to be a dream, a really bad dream; a really awful, terrible dream he’d wake up from any second, but when she’d opened the door, a nanosecond before he’d knocked and smiled up at him, her shoulders slumped over with the weight of the world; all he could think was how lucky he was.

Lucky to have known her, lucky to have loved her. Lucky to be empty enough to carry her secret for now, for forever.

You guys are okay!

“We’re all okay,” Luka smiled, looking between his two friends, “Thanks to Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

He’d almost meant it this time, but as he watched the Ladybug and Chat Noir in front of him look into each other’s eyes, completely unaware of all the forces of the universe that had conspired to bring them both to this moment, Luka knew he would never be whole.

For as long as Luka Couffaine could remember, he was a half. It was only when he turned fifteen, watching the dying sun set over the Seine, did he realise that the other half of him had only ever been other people’s secrets. 

-fin-

[fatehbaz]

In 1678, a Chaldean priest from Baghdad reached the Imperial Villa of Potosí, the world’s richest silver-mining camp and at the time the world’s highest city at more than 4,000 metres (13,100 feet) above sea level. A regional capital in the heart of the Bolivian Andes, Potosí remains – more than three and a half centuries later – a mining city today. [...] The great red Cerro Rico or ‘Rich Hill’ towered over the city of Potosí. It had been mined since 1545 [...]. When Don Elias arrived [...], the great boom of 1575-1635 – when Potosí alone produced nearly half the world’s silver – was over, but the mines were still yielding the precious metal. [...]

On Potosí’s main market plaza, indigenous and African women served up maize beer, hot soup and yerba mate. Shops displayed the world’s finest silk and linen fabrics, Chinese porcelain, Venetian glassware, Russian leather goods, Japanese lacquerware, Flemish paintings and bestselling books in a dozen languages. [...]

Pious or otherwise, wealthy women clicked Potosí’s cobbled streets in silver-heeled platform shoes, their gold earrings, chokers and bracelets studded with Indian diamonds and Burmese rubies. Colombian emeralds and Caribbean pearls were almost too common. Peninsular Spanish ‘foodies’ could savour imported almonds, capers, olives, arborio rice, saffron, and sweet and dry Castilian wines. Black pepper arrived from Sumatra and southwest India, cinnamon from Sri Lanka, cloves from Maluku and nutmeg from the Banda Islands. Jamaica provided allspice. Overloaded galleons spent months transporting these luxuries across the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic oceans. Plodding mule and llama trains carried them up to the lofty Imperial Villa.

---

Potosi supplied the world with silver, the lifeblood of trade and sinews of war [...]. In turn, the city consumed the world’s top commodities and manufactures. [...] The city’s dozen-plus notaries worked non-stop inventorying silver bars and sacks of pesos [...]. Mule trains returning from the Pacific brought merchandise and mercury, the essential ingredient for silver refining. [...] From Buenos Aires came slavers with captive Africans from Congo and Angola, transshipped via Rio de Janeiro. Many of the enslaved were children branded with marks mirroring those, including the royal crown, inscribed on silver bars.

Soon after its 1545 discovery, Potosí gained world renown [...]. Mexico’s many mining camps [...] peaked only after 1690. [...] Even in the Andes of South America there were other silver cities [...]. But no silver deposit in the world matched the Cerro Rico, and no other mining-refining conglomeration grew so large. Potosí was unique: a mining metropolis.

Thus Don Elias, like others, made the pilgrimage to the silver mountain. It was a divine prodigy, a hierophany. In 1580, Ottoman artists depicted Potosí as a slice of earthly paradise, the Cerro Rico lush and green, the city surrounded by crenellated walls. Potosí, as Don Quixote proclaimed, was the stuff of dreams. Another alms seeker, in 1600, declared the Cerro Rico the Eighth Wonder of the World. A [...] visitor in 1615 gushed: ‘Thanks to its mines, Castile is Castile, Rome is Rome, the pope is the pope, and the king is monarch of the world.’ [...]

---

For all its glory, Potosí was also the stuff of nightmares [...].

Almost a century before Don Elias visited Potosí, Viceroy Francisco de Toledo revolutionised world silver production. Toledo was a hard-driving bureaucrat of the Spanish empire [...]. Toledo reached Potosí in 1572, anxious to flip it into the empire’s motor of commerce and war. By 1575, the viceroy had organised a sweeping labour draft, launched a ‘high-tech’ mill-building campaign, and overseen construction of a web of dams and canals to supply the Imperial Villa with year-round hydraulic power, all in the high Andes at the nadir of the Little Ice Age. Toledo also oversaw construction of the Potosí mint, staffed full-time with enslaved Africans. [...] Toledo’s successes came with a steep price. Thanks to the viceroy’s ‘reforms’, hundreds of thousands of Andeans became virtual refugees (those who survived) and, in the search for timber and fuel, colonists denuded hundreds of miles of fragile, high-altitude land. [...] The city’s smelteries belched lead and zinc-rich smoke [...].

The Habsburg kings of Spain cared little about Potosí’s social and environmental horrors. [...] For more than a century, the Cerro Rico fuelled the world’s first global military-industrial complex, granting Spain the means to prosecute decades-long wars on a dozen fronts – on land and at sea. No one else could do all this and still afford to lose. [...]

By [...] 1909 [...], mineral rushes had helped to produce cities such as San Francisco and Johannesburg, but nothing quite compared for sheer audacity with the Imperial Villa of Potosí, a neo-medieval mining metropolis perched in the Andes of South America.

---

Text by: Kris Lane. “Potosi: the mountain of silver that was the first global city.” Aeon. 30 July 2019. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[thejewelryhut]

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[piercingsystemspakistan]

SPARKLE AND STYLE: A COMPREHENSIVE GUIDE TO EAR AND NOSE PIERCING JEWELRY | StudexPakistan.Quora.Com

In the dynamic world of fashion and self-expression, body piercings have risen to the forefront as a prominent trend. From classic earlobe piercings to the edgier nose piercings, people are utilizing piercings as a means to showcase their individuality and unique style. This comprehensive guide will take you on a journey through the captivating realm of ear and nose piercings, exploring the latest trends, popular choices, and the significance of specialized jewelry like Gold plated earrings, children's studs, ear piercing studs, and nose piercing studs. Whether you're intrigued by tragus piercing or nostril piercings, this guide will provide you with the insights needed to make informed decisions and embark on your piercing adventure.

Gold Plated Earrings: Elevating Glamour and Style: When it comes to infusing glamour and style into your piercing journey, few options rival the allure of Gold plated earrings. These exquisite pieces offer a touch of opulence without breaking the bank. Gold plated earrings combine the timeless appeal of gold with affordability, making them a versatile choice for a wide range of occasions. Whether adorning your tragus or gracing your earlobe, these earrings radiate sophistication and grace. The marriage of elegance and affordability makes Gold-plated earrings a staple in any jewelry collection, offering the perfect balance between luxury and practicality.

Children's Studs: A Playful Introduction to Elegance: The world of ear piercings extends its enchantment to the younger generation through the whimsical realm of children's studs. Designed with a focus on safety and aesthetics, these studs allow children to engage in self-expression while maintaining an air of innocence and playfulness. With delightful designs and a burst of vibrant colors, children's studs capture the essence of youth while serving as an entry point into the world of ear adornments. These studs are not only a delightful accessory for children but also a way to nurture their creativity and individuality from an early age.

Ear Piercing Machine: Revolutionizing the Piercing Experience: One of the most pivotal aspects of acquiring a new ear or nose piercing is the piercing process itself. Enter the innovative ear piercing machine, a technological marvel designed to provide a quick and precise piercing experience. Particularly for ear piercings such as tragus piercing, the selection of the right piercing studio and equipment holds immense importance. The ear piercing machine brings forth a hygienic and efficient method for achieving the desired tragus or earlobe piercing. This technology ensures accuracy while minimizing discomfort, setting the stage for a positive piercing journey.

Diving into Tragus Piercing: A Fusion of Boldness and Elegance: Among the myriad of ear piercing options, tragus piercing stands out for its distinctive placement and bold aesthetic. Nestled adjacent to the ear canal, the tragus presents a canvas for creativity and personal expression. The popularity of tragus piercing stems from their compatibility with various earring styles, including ear piercing studs and Gold plated earrings. Whether your preference leans towards a minimalist stud or a more extravagant piece, tragus piercings enable diverse styling possibilities that embody both boldness and elegance.

Ear Piercing Studs: Elevating Your Adornment: While embarking on your piercing journey, ear piercing studs emerge as the quintessential choice for adorning your newly pierced ears. These modest yet elegant pieces of jewelry come in an array of designs, materials, and finishes, catering to a wide spectrum of tastes and preferences. From timeless silver studs to intricate creations crafted from high-quality gold, the range of options is boundless. Ear piercing studs possess the unique capability to effortlessly transition from everyday casual wear to accentuating your ensemble for a special occasion.

The Allure of Gold Plated Earrings: A Touch of Glamour: For those who seek to infuse their style with opulence and charm, Gold plated earrings offer an unparalleled allure. The enchantment of gold resonates universally, and Gold plated earrings present an exquisite balance between luxury and affordability. These earrings possess the ability to exude sophistication in any context, complementing a diverse array of ear piercings. Regardless of whether they adorn your tragus or your earlobe, Gold plated earrings infuse an air of glamour and grace into your jewelry collection.

Catering to the Young: Children's Studs for Playful Elegance: The world of ear piercings extends its embrace to the younger generation through the enchanting realm of children's studs. These specially designed studs fuse safety and aesthetics, providing an opportunity for children to engage in self-expression while preserving an element of innocence and playfulness. Boasting charming designs and vibrant colors, children's studs encapsulate the joy of youth while serving as a stepping stone into the world of ear adornments.

Nose Piercing Studs: A Marriage of Tradition and Style: Transitioning from ear piercings to nose piercings introduces us to a captivating journey that marries tradition with contemporary style. Nose piercings carry a rich cultural history, transcending their origins to become a pronounced fashion statement. The spectrum of nose piercing studs spans from subtle and understated designs to elaborate, attention-commanding pieces. This diverse selection empowers individuals to weave their personal style into an age-old practice, honoring both tradition and individuality.

Navigating Nostril Piercing: A Bold Expression: Among the multifarious nose piercing options, nostril piercing claims a spotlight due to its adaptability and aesthetic appeal. Whether you opt for a delicate nose piercing stud or a hoop, the nostril area presents an eminent canvas for self-expression. Much like ear piercings, Gold plated options stand at the ready for nostril piercings, fostering a seamless blend that cohesively harmonizes your style.

Holistic Piercing Care: Nurturing Your Adornments: Beyond the selection of jewelry, nurturing your piercings through meticulous aftercare is imperative for a successful and smooth healing journey. Irrespective of whether you've embraced tragus or nostril piercings, adhering to stringent care routines helps stave off infections and complications. Employing a saline solution or specialized piercing cleanser to cleanse your piercings promotes healing while preventing bacterial intrusion. Diligently following the guidelines bestowed upon you by your piercing professional serves as a cornerstone for the durability of your piercings and the vitality of the surrounding tissue.

Creating Harmony: Mixing and Matching Jewelry: The allure of ear and nose piercings is further heightened by the creative symphony of mixing and matching jewelry pieces. The art of combining diverse jewelry types—ranging from ear piercing studs to Gold plated earrings and nose piercing studs - unleashes an array of possibilities. Imbue your tragus with a delicate stud juxtaposed against a nostril hoop for a captivating and eclectic ensemble. This artistic fusion enables you to tailor your style, revealing layers of depth and creativity that resonate with your inner aesthetic.

Beyond Conformity: Personalized and Unique Piercing Accessories: The trajectory of piercing jewelry design has ventured into the realms of customization and uniqueness. Amidst the technological marvels of 3D printing and laser engraving, custom piercing accessories have come to the fore. Envision having initials etched onto your tragus stud or an insignia of personal significance adorning your nose piercing hoop. These customized gems transcend jewelry—they metamorphose into conduits for storytelling, encapsulating fragments of your life's narrative and unearthing facets of your identity.

The Confluence of Pain and Beauty: Piercing Discomfort: Apprehensions regarding piercing pain are natural, especially for those embarking on this journey for the first time. Pain thresholds are subjective, with sensations typically likened to a brief, acute pinch. The degree of discomfort varies according to the area being pierced. While tragus and nostril piercings might elicit a bit more unease due to cartilage involvement, the apprehension tends to eclipse the actual experience. Professional piercers are adept at mitigating discomfort, ensuring a swift and minimally distressing process.

Transcending Age and Gender: Universal Appeal: The allure of piercings spans across age and gender, rendering them a universal form of self-expression. From children's studs to Gold plated earrings, these adornments transcend generational boundaries. The contemporary landscape sees a departure from traditional gender norms, welcoming all genders into the fold of piercing enthusiasts. Nose piercing studs and other jewelry pieces offer a spectrum of choices that effortlessly harmonize with individual preferences, enabling each person to manifest their authenticity.

Selecting Your Piercing Maestro: Expertise Unveiled: When embarking on your piercing journey, the significance of choosing a qualified professional cannot be overstated. An esteemed piercer is the architect of a seamless experience, ensuring the piercing process is safe, hygienic, and minimally discomforting. The selection process entails meticulous research into local studios, examining reviews, hygiene standards, and the expertise of piercers. Engaging in open conversations about sterilization protocols, jewelry options, and post-piercing care is essential. A seasoned piercer elevates the entire encounter, contributing not just to the procedure but also to the longevity of the piercing's healing trajectory.

Unveiling the Magic of Customized Piercings: Your Unique Story: As we draw the curtains on this comprehensive exploration, we encourage you to reflect on the resonance of piercings within your narrative. Each tragus stud, every nose piercing hoop, embodies a fragment of your tale—a narrative of self-expression, individuality, and aesthetic allure. Your curation of jewelry, from exquisite Gold plated earrings to delicate ear piercing studs, functions as an emblem of your style, character, and spirit. As you embark on this voyage of self-discovery and adornment, recognize that your piercings constitute a dynamic canvas awaiting your creative touch—an extension of your essence radiating magnificence to the world.

Harmonizing Materials: The Jewelry Chronicles: The materials used for piercing jewelry are pivotal for both aesthetics and safety. Whether it's tragus piercing or a nostril adornment, jewelry material selection is a decision of utmost importance. Surgical stainless steel, titanium, and niobium are the vanguards of material choices, cherished for their biocompatibility and durability. These materials are gentle on sensitive skin, minimizing the likelihood of allergic reactions or irritations. On the other hand, the allure of Gold plated earrings and solid gold options is unparalleled. However, it's paramount to ensure the gold plating is of exceptional quality, safeguarding against tarnishing and adverse reactions.

The Unseen Journey: Healing and Aftercare: Beyond the realm of selecting jewelry lies the critical realm of piercing aftercare—a voyage that's often overlooked but integral to a seamless healing process. Regardless of whether you've embraced tragus or nostril piercing, meticulous care routines are non-negotiable to prevent infections and complications. Employing a saline solution or specialized piercing cleanser for cleansing aids in the healing process while staving off bacterial intrusion. Heeding the guidance provided by your piercing professional anchors the longevity of your piercings and the health of the neighboring tissue.

Fashion Fusion: The Art of Mixing Metals: An exciting trend has emerged that adds a new layer to your piercing journey—the art of mixing metals. A marriage of  Gold plated earrings and silver studs, this trend harmonizes different metal tones to forge captivating ensembles. Pairing a Gold plated tragus stud with a delicate silver nose piercing stud creates a juxtaposition that amplifies your style. This creative amalgamation adds depth to your aesthetic, enriching your persona with an innovative fashion fusion.

From Tradition to Trendsetting: Innovative Piercing Styles: The world of piercings is ceaselessly evolving, birthing innovative styles that challenge the conventional. The concept of constellation piercings has taken flight, involving the strategic placement of studs to mirror constellations. Equally compelling is the "curated ear" trend—a meticulous selection of piercings meticulously crafted to harmonize in placement, size, and jewelry selection. By embracing these innovative styles, you embark on a dynamic journey of self-expression that showcases your daring spirit.

The Dance of Discomfort: Piercing Pain Unveiled: Anticipation of piercing pain is a common sentiment, especially for first timers. While pain tolerance varies, the sensation often equates to a fleeting, sharp pinch. The intensity of discomfort varies depending on the piercing site. Tragus and nostril piercing, owing to their involvement of cartilage, might evoke slightly more unease. However, it's essential to recognize that the anticipation often surpasses the actual sensation. Accomplished piercers are adept at mitigating discomfort, ensuring a swift and relatively painless procedure. Read More...

[wordsandrobots]

I was sorting through a few things today and realised I never actually shared the sketches I did from when I was trying to work out what grown-up Shino looked like for To Catch a Falling Star. Mostly because they are not great. But hey, let's call this back-matter for the fic!

[EDIT: OH RIGHT THAT WAS WHY I DIDN'T POST IT. Tumblr objecting to his having nipples. Right, OK, I guess we're censoring that and not the actual signs of massive injury. Cool.]

Things to note:

The scars I explicitly stated in the text are: scarring up his neck but not extending to his head, a large burn on his left flank , an oval-shaped burn around his whisker (yes, exactly the shape you're thinking), and a strip of replaced skin taking up most of his right thigh. The rest are generally covered by 'there's a fuck-ton of them'.

(I mentioned this in the fic notes but the reason there are no scars on his face is because his helmet sealed shut right before Flauros depressurised, protecting his head from all but superficial damage. This saved his life but didn't do much for the rest of him, which was injured by the explosions and the normal-suit attempting to self-repair damage.)

Shino starts out in the fic with his head shaved but when he grows his hair back, he's (at least initially) somewhat shaggier than he was as a teenager.

He is also considerably less hench than he used to be. He's still roughly the same dimensions, but not nearly as defined and is even a bit gaunt-looking in certain lights. Traumatic everything injuries will do that to a person.

His new ear-studs are all gold; unlike Kudelia's, there is no jewel.

When I was originally thinking about the prosthetic connector, you can seen that my ideas tended a bit more Trigun-esque than is perhaps warranted. That's because I hadn't yet seen this picture of Argi Mirage's arm from the manga:

The cap on the end should therefore probably be a lot smaller and flow more cleanly into the flesh, ala a whisker, and so the outline should more resemble a real-life residual limb.

His prosthetic should also be closer to the above than I drew it -- or rather, closer to Derma's, since they're made by the same person:

I imagine there being a greater amount of plastic and otherwise non-metal sections than Moon Steel shows with Argi. Certainly, from the shot above, it seems Derma's hand is inside a flexible glove instead of just being nakedly robotic (which makes sense, he works with children whereas Argi mainly hits people for a living).

Oh, yes, for those who haven't read the fic: Shino's prosthetic having five digits is *very much* significant and plot-relevant. Actually, thinking it through now, that would explain why (per my descriptions) Shino's fingers have exposed metal parts over a softer bed of tactile sensors: to better protect them given that they're more vulnerable to damage than standard three-finger manipulators.

Anyway, there we have it. Character redesign thoughts! I should probably have another go at drawing him at some point, though I would need to get back into the swing of sketching first. Maybe when I'm done writing! (On top of everything else I plan to do when the last fic in the series is finished . . .)

[aldbooks]

A Strange Melody - Chapter 11

@sunshinebingo

Read on AO3

Gwyn lay in the sand of the lagoon’s beach, half her body in the water, the waves gently washing over her as the tide moved in, and stared up at the darkening sky. She’d been laying here for hours, just as she’d done every day since she returned to the sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of leathery wings and a boyish smile.

The storm had caused a minor shipwreck not far from the mainland and the time and effort that had been required to ferry the ships cargo and passengers to shore had distracted her for nearly a full day. But every moment after that, Gwyn had felt a yawning ache inside of her that she couldn’t fully explain. As though a part of her were missing. Which was insane. She’d only been on land for less than three days. It didn’t make sense for her to be missing it or any of the people she’d met there this badly. 

Even Azriel.

And yet, she could not move on.

When the sun had truly set into full darkness and there had been no sign of dark wings in the sky, Gwyn allowed herself to be pulled under with the tide and slunk back to the little burrow in the reef she called home. Curling up in her bed, she lay her head down and stared at the blue beads encircling her wrist, hiding the black mark beneath. Denied the relief of tears beneath the surface, she let the ache wash over her as she drifted off to sleep…

The water was warmer here, flowing over her skin like an embrace, Gwyn’s eyes slowly blinked open in the shimmering cavern she lay in. Sitting up, she glanced around with frank curiosity. This was not her home, nor any she had ever seen. This cave was full of glittering gems and knick knacks, paintings in gilded frames hung on the wall or lay propped around the floor, scraps of rich colored fabrics floated in the water, along with piles of jewels, pearls, and metal coins. It looked like a dragon’s hoard.

Where was she?

“Why do you cry, my child?”

Gasping at the sound of the deep, rumbling voice, Gwyn spun in a circle, looking for it’s source. He emerged from the deep shadows of the cavern, brown skin covered in patches of blue and gold scales like his tail. Pearl studded gold jewelry adorned his wrists and ears and a crown of shells sat atop his unruly gray mane. His eyes blazed into her, a brilliant turquoise, brighter than anything she’d ever seen, as he approached.

With another shuddering gasp, Gwyn threw herself forward onto the sandy floor, supplicating. The sea god chuckled, thick fingers gently touching her cheek and guiding her up off the floor. “There’s no need for that daughter. I brought you here.”

“ Daughter?” she glanced again at his scales that were a near perfect match for hers in color, though his fins were much larger and grander made of fine teal webs. She could find no other resemblance, even in his eyes and she blushed as he laughed softly.

“It is figure of speech my dear. All of the water folk are my children- of a sort.” He smiled then, a breathtaking smile that was nearly hypnotizing in it’s beauty. She could imagine this was the basis of the luring gifts the syren and oceanid possessed. His voice was so inviting when speaking, she could only imagine how it would sound in song. The smile turned sad. 

“You, I’m afraid, are without family. But I have been watching over you, and your sister before, for quite some time. Your mother was one of my favorites, I was sorry to lose her.”

Gwyn’s chest squeezed painfully at the reminder that she was all alone in this world. Her eyes began to sting once more and the sea god reached out to stroke his thumb beneath one, though there would be no tear there, not in the sea. “Why do you cry? I known you have been sad for some time since your sister’s passing. But I have not seen you thus since then. What has happened?”

He studied her for a long moment, his head tilting as his eyes blazed into hers as though he could read her mind. The way Rhysand could… Was the sea god a daemati too? “You have been on land,” he said. She couldn’t tell if he knew this for certain or was guessing. Either way, she nodded.

“What did you see? Were you harmed?”

Gwyn shook her head emphatically. “No! Everyone I met was very kind.”

His dark brow furrowed. “Then why- ah,” his expression cleared into one of knowing. “You fell in love.” Rhys has said the same thing the first time she’d met him. This time she did not deny it. 

His eyes narrowed. “No, not love… you found your mate.”

Gwyn blinked slowly. “What?”

“Your mate is fae… you cannot live on land with him and he cannot live below with you… quite the twist of fate…” The sea god had begun drifting around her with a thoughtful expression as though solving a puzzle. Gwyn, however was stock still as she processed his words.

Mate. Azriel- was her mate? But- “how?”

“I don’t know,” the god answered the question she had not meant to ask aloud. “But, if the cauldron has deemed it so, there must be a reason…” He stopped before her and looked her over critically. “Do you wish to be with him? To live in his world?”

“I-” Gwyn’s mouth opened and closed slowly, at a loss. Could she leave these waters? For good? This was the only home she had ever known and, while she had enjoyed her time on land, would she be able to give this up for the rest of her life? The freedom of swimming, the beauty of this underwater world, the satisfaction she received from aiding those in need?

Did it matter? “He- loves another.”

The god gave her an unfathomable look. “Are you sure?”

“I saw it…”

He made a hum that was not quite agreement. “I see. Well,” he glanced around him, plucking out a large, single pearl strung on a chain of delicate silver. Soft light emitted from his hands, surrounding the pendant before fading into a gentle glow. He offered it to her. “If you ever decide this life is no longer what you wish for yourself, with or without your mate, summon me…”

Gwyn stared at the gift, too stunned to speak. He gently reached out and placed the necklace in her palm, closing her fingers over it. “It is the least I can do for Mera’s daughter… rest easy young one. There is much joy yet to be had in your life. And I will always be watching over you.” 

Gwyn’s eyes began to burn again and she closed them tightly as he leaned forward to place a kiss to her cheek. When she opened them again, she was in her cove, the pearl clutched in her hand as the bright rays of day were already to spearing through the water above her. 

She stared at that pearl, unable to believe what had transpired was not merely a dream, as time passed around her, until she felt a burning, tugging sensation in her wrist. Glancing down, she found the silver threads of the mark on her wrist glowing, urging her to follow the pull.

It seemed the bargainer had come to collect.

Azriel watched from the shadows as his brother had instructed- though his shadows took umbrage with hiding from their mate, they obeyed- and waited. Nothing happened for long time as the sun began it’s slow descent towards the horizon. Another few hours and it would be night. He was growing impatient. Rhys had kept him from seeing his mate, refusing to tell him where or how to find her, for an entire week. 

He felt like he was going mad and could only guess if she felt the same. Had she felt the bond as well? Did she know? Was she happy? Did she miss him? He needed answers.

His shadows began buzzing excitedly and Azriel looked out at the water just in time to catch a glimmer of scales before the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen burst from the surf, slinging, long wet locks of copper hair over her shoulder and pulling herself up to perch on a rock. She looked different in this form, but still like his Gwyn. Her hair was more lustrous, her skin almost shimmering, her eyes sparkling. Scales covered her breasts in her nymph form, dark blue and gold that dotted along her chest and arms, coalescing into a long tail tipped with iridescent fins. 

She was exquisite. And her voice…

“Rhysand,” she greeted the king almost cooly. To his surprise, Rhys bowed to her. This seemed to surprise Gwyn too but she merely widened her eyes slightly.

“Gwyneth, lovely to see you again.”

“What do you want,” she asked, a thumb idly tracing over the mark on her wrist. The wrist that still wore the bracelet he’d bought her at the market. His heart twisted. When he’d seen the scarf she’d left tied around the lily at his door, he’d wanted to weep. She had left him, and he was determined she would not leave him again. 

He wanted to go to her, but even now could feel Rhys in his mind urging him to wait just a little longer. 

“Have you come to collect?” she asked bitterly. His heart twisted further at the clear unhappiness. 

“Were you not satisfied with our bargain, little syren?” Gwyn bared her teeth at his smug tone and the blatantly false name. “I held up my end.”

She hissed, but did not argue, simply turned her face away. There was a slight shimmer around her eyes and as he watched, a tear fell. Damn it, Rhys. Enough of your games. Let me go to my mate. 

Very well . “I have indeed come to collect,” he said aloud to Gwyn. “A favor of my choosing was the price.”

“And what would you have me do?” she asked, not looking at him.

Rhys’ voice softened. “Speak with my brother.”

Gwyn’s head whipped around. “What?”

Azriel’s shadows cleared then and he emerged from behind his brother. He watched as some fathomless emotion crossed her face as they stared at one another. Rhys voice wound between them though neither paid attention as he disappeared in a cloud of darkness. As soon as he was gone, Gwyn and Azriel moved towards each other like magnets drawn together. He stepped forward into the surf as she lowered herself back into the water and swam closer. When she resurfaced, he was kneeling in the shallows as she pushed herself up to sitting a few feet away. 

“Gwyn,” he breathed, eyeing her head to- well fin- now that she was closer. She was even more stunning up close. “You are… beautiful.”

She stared back him, ocean eyes wide. “You’re not afraid of me?”

“Should I be?”

“No… but many fae are when they first meet my kind. They mistake us for syrens, thinking we will hurt them.”

“That’s what happened to your sister isn’t it?” he asked, putting the broken pieces of her story together.

Grief clouded her eyes momentarily. “Yes.”

Reaching out, his shadows gently took her arm and pulled her closer through the water until she was close enough for him to touch- to reach up and cup her cheek. “I am not afraid of you,” he assured her. “You saved me.”

Her fingers skimmed over his temple where he had been bleeding the last time she’d seen him, and he noticed then that the skin between them was webbed, with a smattering of scales not unlike her freckles. 

“I thought I’d-” she sucked in a shaky breath, tears shimmering in her eyes. He cupped her face fully and leaned closer. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “If you will have me, that is… I- Do you feel this?” he asked, laying a hand on his chest where the thread of the mating bond pulsed faintly. Laying another webbed hand on her own chest she nodded. “You know what it means?”

“Mate,” she whispered, laying a hand over his on his chest. 

“Yes,” he replied, leaning his forehead again hers. “You are mine- and I am yours. And I’m not going anywhere- neither are you. Do you understand?” He longed to claim her with a kiss, with his body, with every piece of his soul, but he needed to hear her agreement. Needed to know she wanted this too.

Her voice shook slightly. “But- Morrigan-”

“Means nothing to me,” he said quickly, then winced. “At least, not in that way. Not anymore. My feelings for her faded a long time ago it just took a while- too long- to see it. But all this time, all these centuries, I was waiting for you.” 

A sob escaped her and he pulled her closer until her body was nestled between his knees, her head leaning against his shoulder. “But- how? How are we to make this work?” she asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” he said. “My brothers and I have spent the last few days planning. It’s not perfect, but we can work with it as we go.”

He heard a soft sniffle as a webbed hand smoothed over his chest to his open collar, a pointed fingernail tracing the markings beneath his neck. He shivered at the touch. “I’ll build a house- here in the lagoon, or one of the other islands, whichever you prefer. When you come to shore, you can stay there with me- or I can take you back to the palace, or wherever you wish to go for those two days. And when you must go back to the water, I can still be close enough for us to see each other. Maybe I can even swim with you…”

She looked up at him, or rather at the wings over his shoulder and raised a skeptical brow. “You’ll swim?”

“If it means I can be with you- then yes.” He waited and waited for her to say something, but she just kept staring at his wings, rubbing the pearl necklace clutched in her fingers. “Gwyn-”

He cut off when a glimmer of light beneath the surface caught his attention. Holding Gwyn closer as it grew larger, his wings and shadows surrounded them both as his heart pounded, trying to assess the approaching threat. Gwyn, curiously, did not appear worried. That should have calmed him. She knew these waters far better than him. 

“What is it?”

Gwyn just smiled as she watched the ball of light emerge from the water in the form of a massive, tailed man… Was that-

“Hello, Gwyneth,” the man greeted in a rumbling voice that shook the waves around them and yet was oddly soothing. Azriel’s wings fell slack around them as he stared. The sea god smiled. “That was sooner than I expected.”