#cygnet believer

[ball-of-butter]

i love that red queen puts family as the chief unit of love even above true romantic love like that for some reason is SO overrated in ya media. i dont think of the characters within friendship or romantic groups first, i unconsciously catergorise them into their family.

cal loves mare but cal will put maven first always and he loves his dad and his image so much he’s willing to sacrifice his character and relationship with her to fulfil the expectations set by his family and its not until realising what his MOTHER wanted for him that he lets go. and mare loves cal but she will always put her siblings and parents first which is why everything started with gisa and shade’s loss and it ended with her sister and the loss of her brother too. maven loves mare but he loves elara more even if she twisted him and elara loves maven more than the entire kingdom and thats why she twisted him. and elara couldn’t enact her plan to make maven king without getting rid of his love for cal first!! when shade gets killed mare HAS to kill elara because that is the only way she can make sure her pain is even with at least one person.

cameron does everything for her brother’s safety, she was willing to abandon her morals and dehumanise anyone standing in her way if thats what needed to happen. and after morrey was safe she quit— nothing was worth losing herself over except him. farley and shade’s love was so pure that it brought life and family to the farleys who were already broken with the grief of being halved. their love brought a daughter named after the death of the woman that destroyed the family, and it was so healing.

and that is what KILLS me about the samos family!!! that compared to all this unconditional loyalty— the samos family is a continuous act of playing at love and loyalty, when in reality volos and larentia could not care less about their children because they dont know how to. silver society never showcases this love and so then you have so many parents fucking up their kid in so many ways but doing it out of love because thats how they see it— all except volo and larentia.

so the samos family is an exception. i cant think of evangeline without thinking of elane and ptolemus and i cant think of ptolemus without thinking of evangeline and wren. thats their family. and at least evangeline and ptolemus experienced real love with each other, even if they were never taught it (evangeline’s fear over shade’s death was proof that she could imagine a world without him and it was one of the few times she was genuinely scared in the series).

[kmomof4]

Too cute!!!!

Critical Success by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Cygnet Scholar, Violet Believer, Captain Swan Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1K words Summary: At most weddings, people will clink their glasses together to get the happy couple to kiss- but when Henry and Violet get married, they try something a little different- a twenty sided die. If you roll it and it lands on an 11-20, they kiss, and if it lands on a 2-10 they won't- but if it lands on a one, you have to kiss someone. Characters: Hope Swan-Jones, Henry Mills, Violet Morgan, Killian Jones, Emma Swan, Gideon Gold Author’s notes: The working title for this fic was "my little sister accidentally ruins my wedding by kissing a sworn enemy's son in front of my dad" but I felt that a bit wordy 😅 This is based off an idea I've seen on Pinterest a couple times, but thought would be fitting with the D&D elements in the season 7 au I'm working on. Much like potion commotion, this doesn't quite fit into the same timeline, but I had fun writing it regardless! Taglist: @accidental-spice, @kanerallels @saveme-storybrooke-potc @booksteaandtoomuchtv [let me know if you’d like to be added to the cygnet scholar taglist!]

also on ao3!

 Weddings in Storybrooke were always a joyous occasion- as, of course, weddings were in all realms- but when the groom was a beloved town hero, and the bride his highschool sweetheart, it was an even more joyous affair. As such, most of town turned up on a sunny day in October to witness the union of Henry Mills and Violet Morgan.

 But, while the story of how they found each other again after a decade's separation is exciting, our story takes place later, after the beautiful ceremony (officiated by Dr. Hopper, of course) ended, as the friends and family gathered in the town hall for a fabulous reception- and Henry's teenage half sister was enjoying her first time as a bridesmaid. After everything Hope had stood by her brother in, from D&D campaigns to real-life struggles, it was only fitting that she should stand by her brother and new sister-in-law at the start of this adventure.

 And, of course, she and her friends had greatly enjoyed the honor of some harmless vandalism of the newlyweds' car.

 "Getaway car's all set," Hope said, sitting in front of Henry at the head table while finishing off a slice of cake.

 Henry scrunched his nose. "I thought we said that's a tradition we weren't going with."

 "Did we?" Hope smiled.

 "I certainly thought we did."

 "If you thought I was gonna give up my last chance to pull the ol' wool over your eyes," Hope said, "then you haven't been paying attention the last sixteen years."

 Henry sighed. "Just promise me there's no glitter this time."

 Hope gave Henry no response, only a smug smile as she took another bite of cake.

 "Hope…."

 "No glitter," Hope rolled her eyes, "and you can thank my new sister for that."

 "I made sure she didn't glitter bomb your car again," Violet patted Henry's hand.

 "You've always had my back," Henry turned his hand to cup hers in it.

 "And I always will," Violet smiled.

 Hope shook her head and glanced away from them, trying to focus on anything other than the sickeningly adorable couple.

 She looked over the decorations on the table- a candle stand shaped like a dragon, a little sign that said "happily ever after…," a bouquet of flowers, and one of the fanciest D20s from Henry's extensive dice collection. While most couples would settle for the traditional "clink your glasses together to make the couple kiss," they went for an idea they'd seen on Pinterest instead- go to the head table and roll the die; If it lands on an 11-19, the bride and groom will kiss, a 20 and they'll really kiss, 2-10 means nothing- and if you roll a one, you have to kiss someone.

 Hope stood up straight when she saw her parents coming, already prepared for her mom to tell her to stop sitting on the table.

 "There's that fabled die," her dad said, picking up the D20 and rereading the instructions next to it. With great panache, Killian rolled the die.

 "Nat 1," Henry said, looking at the die, "critical fail."

 "Critical fail?" Killian asked, glancing at his wife, "you mean to tell me I've now got an excuse to kiss my Emma, and that's supposed to be a 'critical fail?'"

 Emma turned to Killian and smiled, "Sounds like a win if I've ever heard of one."

 "Aye," Killian said, pulling Emma closer.

 Hope looked away and set down her cake, having suddenly lost her appetite. A lot of people thought it was cute that her parents were still so in love after all these years, but that didn't mean Hope always appreciated it.

 "That was a success indeed," Killian whispered when he and Emma pulled away from each other.

 "Are you sure?" Emma asked, "You could always try again…."

 Hope didn't want to run the risk of seeing that happen again, so she snatched the die away before her parents could grab it again.

 "Let a pro show you how it's done," Hope said, "I've got the magic touch."

 She rolled the die onto the table, and it landed with the number one plainly facing up once again.

 "Critical fail," Henry smiled.

 "I know," Hope snipped, annoyed and embarrassed about how false her confidence had proven. Not only did she now look like an idiot for flubbing up something she'd thought herself so skilled at, she now had to pay the consequences and kiss someone.

 "Don't worry," her dad said, with a nervous chuckle, "we certainly won't hold you accountable to that."

 "Relax, dad," Hope said, "I'm not a little girl anymore."

 "That statement does little to put me at ease."

 Hope looked up to see Gideon coming toward them, eating a slice of cake. He had been Hope's friend for a long time, but his dad had been her dad's nemesis for an even longer time. Seeing as she was still a little salty from the last minute's events, his presence gave Hope an evil idea.

 "I'm not a little kid anymore," Hope thought, "I don't need to be protected from kissing, or guys, or kissing guys. Besides, I was raised not to back down from a challenge."

 "I don't know where you guys got this cake from," Gideon said, "but it's wonderful."

 Before Gideon had finished his sentence, Hope grabbed the collar of his button-up shirt and pulled his lips to hers, quickly, before anyone could stop her.

 It took a moment for her to register what she was doing- she shared her first kiss, in front of her entire family, out of spite, with Gideon Gold.

 And as wild as all of that sounded, something about it felt right.

 When she pulled away from Gideon, she saw a surprised but very delighted expression on his face.

 "Wow," Gideon said, blinking in surprise and looking back down at his plate, "I guess I should start complimenting cakes more often."

 "Hope Alice Swan-Jones!" her dad called, in the you're-in-trouble tone she knew all too well, "what was that?"

 "Can't argue with the dice," Hope said, "critical fail means you gotta kiss someone."

 "Really?" Gideon asked. He reached past her and grabbed the die off the table, then rolled it.

 His notoriety among their party for rolling natural ones didn't fail him this time, and the die landed, for the third time in a row, on the one.

 "Critical fail," Henry repeated, with a smug shrug.

 Hope looked up from the die to Gideon, then back to the die, then at her dad, then back at the die, then back at Gideon, who scratched the back of his neck.

 "Hope…" Gideon said.

 "You may as well," Hope shrugged.

 Hope thought she heard her father say, "no, you 'may not as well,'" as she and Gideon leaned back towards each other, but she was lost in the moment, and in whatever feelings were beginning to stir inside of her. Her lips somehow found her way to Gid's once again, with a kiss that, despite her father's disapproval, could only be described as pure.

 She opened her eyes as they leaned away from each other, smiling and seeing the same smile on Gideon's face.

 "That's quite enough of that," Killian said, taking the die off the table before either of the teenagers could take it back again.

 "I, uh," Gideon fumbled, "I take it I should probably get out of here?"

 "And I take it I might be grounded for life?" Hope said, though her first kiss was totally worth whatever punishment followed.

 "Probably a little longer than that," Emma nodded, though Hope could tell by her mom's smile that she wasn't really disappointed in her.

 Killian didn't respond, however, bouncing the oversize die in his hand.

 "Henry," Killian asked, setting down the die so his hand was free to pinch the bridge of his nose, "that wouldn't happen to be a loaded die, would it?"

 Hope looked back at her brother to see a familiar smile on his face.

 "You got me," Henry said, pulling an identical die out of his pocket, "this one's the real one."

 Killian rolled the new die and it landed on a twelve- resulting in Henry and Violet giving each other a kiss.

 "So you intentionally put out a die that would fail every time?" Killian asked, "Why would you do that?"

 "Just to see what stories come up," Henry winked at Hope and Gideon, "and, besides, if you thought I was gonna 'give up my last chance to pull the ol' wool over my little sister's eyes,' then you haven't been paying attention the last sixteen years."

 Killian sighed in response and gave both of his kids a we'll-talk-about-this-later glare, then gave Gideon an entirely different glare.

 "I'm gonna, uh," Gideon said, "go, uh- grab another slice of cake."

 He quickly left, and a moment later Killian and Emma moved onto whatever other parents-of-the-groom duties that they had to attend to.

 Hope sat on the edge of the table again in front of her brother.

 "Gotta hand it to you," Hope said, "you really had me going with that one."

 "Scale of one to twenty," Henry said, "how'd you rate that prank?"

 Hope chuckled a little, then looked up to see Gideon, heading back her way with a smile on his face and a plate of cake in each hand.

 She smiled, "I'd call it a critical success."

[creatureeditsandredesigns]

A small Stella fullbody slight redesign! I feel like I could’ve done a better color palette, but wanted to also stick with some of her original colors so eh

Of course made her more swan-like as most believe she is a swan species, so made her the more well-known mute swan as mute swans in Britain’s history have been known to belong to the monarchy, so royal stuff. Didn’t do too much with the redesign, just made her a more pastel palette and debating on doing a more blue palette to match her brother? Idk. Also the gray in her “hair” is dyed to resemble her cygnet colors to retain some “youth” in her eyes, as she strives to be beautiful yet youthful as I think she would have been raised to believe older age=ugly some cliche like that, plus maybe a small rewrite of her history to give it a small callback to how she wants to try and claim with her stolen youth years? Idk, idk. I’m just doing this for fun. Other Goetia criticize her decision as they like the usual swan “beauty” aka all white colors.

[moonysachilles]

If Severus were an animagus, what form would his be? Do you see this animal interacting positively or negatively with Lily’s (whatever you headcanon her’s to be) and Remus’ lycanthrope form?

I'm quite a firm believer in severus' animagus being a raven !

& I'd say that it would most likely interact differently with both characters forms.

lily is a bit of a tough one to consider but in personal opinion, her animagus could most likely be the same as her patronus (doe) or, if not, a swan.

either way severus' interaction would be rather neutral & most likely one-sided in respectful observation; he'd follow her from a distance in a sense of longing care, but never really get close enough to properly interact in those forms. this can be with or without the conflict with james.

the above is considering the fact that animagi still think like humans. severus, as an animagus, most likely stays distanced because ravens are documented to have poor relationships with both deer and swans;

for some raven populations, deer can be prey for them, particularly looking at weakened variants such as newborns.

swans have been shown to defend their young vigorously against ravens, who have a tendency of trying to attack swan cygnets — both have interesting subtext when considering harry.

as for remus' lycanthrope form specifically, not animagus, I'd argue similar. severus would engage with a sense of neutrality that sources from caution — werewolves are unpredictable under transformation, but the presence of other animals do ease them. this would tilt more so to a positive interaction of silently accompanying remus in gesture of care during those nights.

to even it out, if looking at remus' animagus form of wolf rather than lycanthrope werewolf, the interactions would likely turn to a more positive overall because;

ravens and wolves are shown to have a symbiotic relationship.

ravens have abilities of finding prey, which can be then alerted to wolves. in return, after a wolf has killed, a raven is then able to scavenge the leftovers.

also the silly fact that it's shown that wolves & ravens have a playful nature with one another !!

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Encrypted Message Thread – 17 June 3152

Uplink Ghost-Screened via Wolf Watch (Black Channel Override) Routing Mask: “Skyglass Protocol – Verified Contact Only”

FROM: [cynthy.redacted@nomad.node] TO: [mhazen.blackwatch.command@fortcameron.sldf.ter], [stephanie.chistu.khan@unitycity.cjf.ter] SUBJECT: Hi.

Hi.

I do not really know how to start this. I am not used to doing this. Writing, I mean. You used to say I should, but I didn’t want to back then. Maybe I was scared someone else would read it. Maybe I still am.

I heard you helped keep the Watch from looking too closely. Thank you. I mean that.

I am somewhere quiet now. I have a roof. A name no one questions. A job that does not ask for much. I even found a cat. She’s mean, but not to me.

I still wake up sometimes thinking she’s nearby. Malvina. It’s stupid. I know she’s gone. But I still check the door twice before I sleep.

Auntie Mel, do you still call people “little bird”? Or was that just me?

—C.

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FROM: [mhazen.blackwatch.command@fortcameron.sldf.ter] TO: [cynthy.redacted@nomad.node], [stephanie.chistu.khan@unitycity.cjf.ter] SUBJECT: Re: Hi.

Cynthy.

I am pleased to know you are safe. You do not need to explain. I understand what it costs to reach out. I will not demand more than you wish to give.

You were forged in a crucible no child should have endured. You emerged whole. That is not a flaw. That is strength.

I am proud of you. Always. You never had to earn my care.

And aff—you are still my little bird.

—Melissa

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FROM: [stephanie.chistu.khan@unitycity.cjf.ter] TO: [cynthy.redacted@nomad.node], [mhazen.blackwatch.command@fortcameron.sldf.ter] SUBJECT: Well Then.

You finally sent a message. I had hoped you would.

I see Melissa wrote you already. She is always first with the poetry. That has not changed either.

I will keep this simple. I am glad you are alive. I am glad you are free. You earned both.

I meant it when I said you could call me family. That word matters more now than it did before.

I still have your blade. The one you used. I keep it where I can see it every morning. It makes sure I do not forget what this Clan must never become again.

If you ever need a place, we have room. A room with no cameras, no guards, and no questions. Just two old women and soup.

—Stephanie

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FROM: [cynthy.redacted@nomad.node] TO: [stephanie.chistu.khan@unitycity.cjf.ter], [mhazen.blackwatch.command@fortcameron.sldf.ter] SUBJECT: I Think I’m Crying?

I didn't expect to hear from both of you so fast. I guess part of me thought… I don't know what I thought. Maybe I believed I'd burned every bridge.

Thank you. Both of you.

It’s weird. I still don’t know how to handle kindness without bracing for the hurt that follows. That's how she always was.

I keep reading what you wrote, Auntie Melissa. “You never had to earn my care.” I don't… I don't know what to do with that.

Auntie Stephanie, I miss hearing you complain about bad tea. I miss how you always checked on me without making it feel like a test.

I still don't trust the quiet. But… I trust you. Both of you.

Is that enough to come visit?

—C.

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FROM: [stephanie.chistu.khan@unitycity.cjf.ter] TO: [cynthy.redacted@nomad.node], [mhazen.blackwatch.command@fortcameron.sldf.ter] SUBJECT: Re: I Think I'm Crying?

Aff. That is enough. It always was.

You do not need to arrive with answers. You do not need to smile. Just come.

We have kept your name buried so deep even the Wolf Watch is blind to it. You will be safe.

Melissa will likely cry when she sees you. I will pretend I will not.

We will meet you at a secure landing point. Do not worry about the details. I have people for that now.

Come home, cygnet. Your aunts are waiting.

—Stephanie

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FROM: [mhazen.blackwatch.command@fortcameron.sldf.ter] TO: [cynthy.redacted@nomad.node], [stephanie.chistu.khan@unitycity.cjf.ter] SUBJECT: Re: I Think I'm Crying?

Yes. Come.

We have missed you in every silence. In every empty chair. In every time I made soup too spicy and caught myself wishing you were there to complain at me for it.

There is no storm now. Only shelter.

You are not alone. You never were. You never will be.

—Melissa

[north-american-duck-poll]

Round 1 match 1B

As their name suggests, Tundra Swans breed in the tundra along the northern coasts of Canada and Alaska. They make their nests on the ground, often on ridges of land between bodies of water. The male and female work together to gather vegetation and build the nest and, once the cygnets hatch, the male also takes an active role in defending them from predators. Tundra Swan cygnets develop much faster than Trumpeter Swans and juveniles can fly just over 2 months after hatching. Cygnets are pale grey to white with pink bills.

The Barnacle Goose primarily nests on cliffs overlooking the water. Shortly after hatching, goslings must jump from the cliffs to reach their foraging grounds. Prior to greater understanding of the nesting and development of Barnacle Geese, it was believed in some European cultures that Barnacle Geese did not build nests or lay eggs and instead developed from barnacles.

[accidental-spice]

since you mentioned star wars... cygnet scholar star wars moodboard? (Unless I already asked for one of those, you've done SO MANY cygnet scholar moodboard lockscreens for me)

Ooooh, GREAT choice!! (I actually don't think I have done this one yet, no!!!)

I'm picturing an AU where they're padawans together, and Gideon keeps having visions of Order 66, but no one thinks his visions are reliable thanks to his evil dad who turned to the Dark side because of visions of his son's death (turns out: other son, guys), but Hope obviously believes him, and that's how they survive Order 66 together and go find Hope's birth family (potentially crazy (affectionate) Mandalorians)

Thanks for the ask!!

Ask game

[itsumoegao]

Swan Cages

Defeating a hero, from rookie to pro, is only half the reason for why the Swan does meticulous and long planning when taking one down. The press, his own followers, all of the world believes he kills heroes. Moments before a hero falls to his efforts, the Swan makes all of his Cygnets leave, if any aided him. When alone, he can deliver the final blow, usually near suffocation, something to make them lose consciousness.

With no body to recover and never hearing from them again, it was safe to assume the hero was murdered by the villain only known as The Black Swan.

However, the truth was quite the opposite.

They were alive and held captive. Unlike most prisoners, these heroes are not held in barren cells with a cot and no privacy. They would wake to find themselves in a room akin to a hotel with equal accommodations.

Upon waking in a comfortable large bed, they would be in normal clothes, their hero uniform held on display in the same room but inaccessible. Without a quirk, the only power the Swan can utilize would be psychological. Imagine an advantage within reach but also not.

In their immediate view, a glass wall stretches from ceiling to floor along with a hallway containing multiple doors ending at a thicker door the hero can not open. There's a few other items, nightstands, a closet for clothes, a couch, a phone but it is for inbound calls only. A desk and something else to keep the hero occupied is also inside.

They would find a sliding door to a fully functional bathroom with running hot water and 100% privacy. There is no glass wall here. Being taken as a prisoner, these are not expected conditions and they are to further confuse the hero, again, messing with them psychologically.

Between the glass wall, is a table and chair with a rotating section. One the other side is another table and chair. This is meant to share meals for two people clearly. For the hero and the Swan.

Who, upon the first time the hero wakes in the cage, is waiting beyond the glass with food. Due to them still being human, the pros need human interaction and the only one they interact with is him as he keeps their live status a secret from everyone. These visits are rare but being fed is not. With the use of robots, they are fed three times a day and it's not kitchen scraps but healthy meals, some days consistent of the pros favorite foods. It adds to the fact that the Swan had been stalking watching them for months.

As their quirks are not suppressed, what is stopping them from breaking out? It depends on what the quirk is and its potential of freeing a hero. Heroes with quirks that work on humans such as Copy, Erasure, Brainwashing, Zero Gravity do not need special security.

Those with destructive quirks like Hellflame, Gyrate, Hardening, Vibrate, well, "How do you make sure a hero won't try to break out of their cell? Ensure that they don't want to." Not all prisons are located on land. Some are deep below water, where the sun can not reach. Someone who breaks their cell, their only means of safety, will succumb to crushing water pressure, hypothermia and drowning.

Why keep the heroes alive? Simple. Leverage. If there ever comes a time the Swan becomes captured by the Police, he can bargain for his freedom in exchange for their freedom. Hence the phone in the cell. He would call a hero and let the police or loved one speak to ensure the Swan is telling the truth.

Another reason, which goes in hand with why their uniform is present in the cell, he knows with the lost of so many pros, more and more criminals will rise. More chaos will ensue. Not his vision but he knows there's a possibility that someone incredibility worse, a true villain seeking to obliterate Japan or even the Earth itself could reign.

In that catastrophic event, he would release them all. Every cage across the country, from the depths of the mountains, from the long forgotten, abandoned building and from the coldest, darkest parts of the ocean, the Swan would release every. Single. Lost. Hero.

[sconeaon]

Fairytale (Even though it hurts) preview/prologue

An angel born of the Forbidden Fruit's seeds joins the cast of the Hazbin Hotel--shenanigans, etc.

A/N: AKA as my attempt to understand Tumblr's UI! This may be crossposted to AO3 if I can be bothered?? Anyway please enjoy my first fic for this silly duck man

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

As is the case with all living things, each of the dozen seeds took its own path in life. Some chose to become trees, others curled up to rot, unsatisfied with the world—and one, just one, was taken into His hands. A creature born of the earth, of the byproduct of the Original Sin. Something so natural and yet entirely not, grown and warmed in the womb of the Garden itself as it formed slowly; so slowly.

Apple seeds—something so regular, one may forget that even the forbidden fruit bore them. A comforting normalcy in even the most horrid of things.

With time, the trees themselves contorted curiously to watch as the ground formed an unusual mound. Animals found comfort in its warmth, letting it be the safe sleeping place for their young—all who resided in the Garden trusted the Earth’s new creation, no matter what it may be. An animal of new shape, or a fourth creature of humanity; some believed it was the conscience of the Earth itself given form.

The truth revealed itself on a warm morning in a then unnamed season, under the first rays of day—the feathers of a cygnet, and yet the quivering hands of man. The creature was an angel.

“Oh, my,” it spoke, its voice echoing loud enough to scare it just a little; “it appears I am alive.”

The animals of the Garden fascinated His newest creation, as did the trees, and the sky, and all that lay beyond the horizon that it could see—the creature born from Eve’s lust for knowledge was born with insatiable curiosity and unbound intelligence, forever desperate to reach out and grab everything she was yet to understand.

This trait was familiar to Heaven, and ever so terrifying. They were certain that if the creature were to be left to its own devices, a being more unbridled than the fallen Lucifer may be unleashed; that was a future they could not let come to pass. The creature was thus held as a houseguest by the seraphim, treated as an eternal child and forever berated for simply following in the nature they had been born with. Though it hurt to be repressed so, the idea of upsetting those who kept it safe scared the creature deeply—as its curiosity applied not just to the beautiful and the untold, but the unknown and the dark.

If it were to speak out of line, would it be killed? Would it be cast out, abandoned—just like this Lucifer, the fallen creature they were compared to since their very inception?

Not being allowed to know the answers was enough to keep her in line—for the first few thousand years of creation.

You see, being born from the accursed apple seeds had given the creature an unspoken tie to the Original Sinner—to Eve—that seemed to make voices call out to her in the night.

“Are you not wracked with boredom, up in your gilded cage?” the First Woman’s voice would echo, would haunt—“they have not even given you a name, sweet creature.”

“Please, voice, define ‘boredom’,” the creature had replied.

“When you are not in danger, but are left with so little to do that your body feels as though it might eat itself alive,” Eve spoke, her voice airy, “does it not hurt, being forced to be a person you are not? Please, creature, speak.”

“You are the first to call me a ‘person’. Not once before have I been considered above the animals of Eden, not before this moment,” the creature appeared complimented, a gentle smile on its face.

“Then allow me to give you the identity they have denied you. I wish to give you a name,” Eve responded.

A name—the syllables left the First Woman like the breeze, gentle and soothing. Suddenly, the creature no longer had to define itself as a thing, as a burden.

It—she, was a person. Eve had made it so.

“I have never received a gift as kind as this, Eve. Please, allow me to repay your kindness; I will do anything you wish, lest I remain indebted for the rest of existence,” (Name) had spoken in earnest, surprised as Eve met her words with a girlish giggle.

“Oh, my sweet (Name)—every living being is given a name, from pet animals to beloved human beings. I am simply filling in where Heaven has fallen short,” Eve had tittered, “though…perhaps making some friends beyond your standing would be beneficial. I have two acquaintances who are quite enamoured with your unlikely existence.”

(Name) blinked in surprise. Friends? No, that idea had never really even crossed her mind—she had always been…alone.

Oh. Oh—she had been lonely, all of this time.

“Please, take your time with all of this, dearest. I do not wish to rush you into doing anything that might hurt you,” Eve had soothed, sensing the change in (Name)’s mood even without sharing in her space; “just know—perhaps one night, it will be someone other than myself coming to speak to you. Someone who I think will remind you deeply of yourself.”

(Name) knew who she was speaking of—the same fallen one she had been compared to incessantly since the moment of her creation. It was almost ironic that even the singular seemingly helpful force in her life couldn’t help but reach the same conclusion…

“(Name), these acquaintances truly do yearn for your presence. The words we’ve shared, the wants they’ve expressed—”

~

“Not that one! Uh, please stop reading that one!”

(Name)’s voice cut through the silence of the Regained Paradise library, royally scaring the shit out of the Princess of Hell.

“Haha—I know the whole thing is accessible information for all, but…I guess everyone has a selfish streak when it comes to information about themselves, huh? Hah…” (Name) fidgeted awkwardly, her nervous stumbling far removed from the graceful creature Charlie had inferred from the book’s pages.

“Oh! Oh, yes, putting it down right now—I totally just violated my own lesson about boundaries, so I guess we’re both good at breaking our own rules,” Charlie beamed, evidently attempting to brighten the awkward situation as she reached out to grab the librarian’s hands, “all of that stupid mess-up-iness aside—hi! I’ve never really met a friend of my dad’s before. Or a friend of my mom’s…or a friend of the First Woman, wow! You really make, uh, important friends, huh?”

“Uh…yeah, I guess—sorry. I can see on your face that talking to me for real is pretty jarring,” (Name) replied sheepishly, shuffling her feet, “so, uh…what exactly did you come here to talk to me about? The library isn’t exactly where you find…anyone but me, here in Hell.”

“Oh, oh—I totally should have explained that first! Okay,” Charlie paused, taking a breath in for effect before exclaiming with her whole chest, “I want to invite you to stay at my hotel! You’re all about learning stuff and growing and improving, so I think you’d be a total smash hit as…as something!”

“At ‘something’?” (Name) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head, “Charlie, dearest, what has your father been telling you?”

“Nothing at all, actually! I’ve done all sorts of research on people here in Hell who could maybe help with my vision, and I stumbled onto the webpage for your library—you’re basically doing the same thing I am, but with learning, and…stuff,” Charlie explained vaguely, gesturing wildly, “I thought it would be super helpful if we combined our visions—maybe if I could find proof of redemption here, you could help me with…application! Yes, oh my gosh, yes—you could be our redemption counsellor!”

(Name) couldn’t help but splutter out a laugh, replying queryingly, “redemption counsellor? It really sounds like you just made that up.”

“I did, I totally did, but isn’t it the best idea? Ooh, this is going to be great,” Charlie practically vibrated with excitement, before cutting herself short in realisation; “I mean, if you want to? I never actually asked…”

“Storming into my library, reading what is practically my diary and then demanding I join the ranks of your not-even-proven-to-work hotel? Yes, I can see why not many people take you up on the offers you give,” (Name) replied, her eyes fiery for just long enough to make Charlie doubt herself—only to break out into bubbly laughter as she added brightly, “you’re ever so lucky that I’m one of the few people this sort of approach works on, dove.”

“Oh. Oh—oh! So you’ll do it? That’s a yes?” Charlie asked, jittery with the maybes that hung in the air.

(Name) nodded ever so gently—and Charlie erupted into cheers of excitement.

“Yes! Yes, oh my GOSH-- Ohmygosh, you will not regret this, (Name)! I have so many lesson plans and projects and ideas and concepts and—ah, this is going to be so great,” Charlie bounced around with the energy of a small electronic device of some kind—exceedingly wired to the point that (Name) could just feel it slowly infecting her, too.

“We have so many spare rooms, you can stay wherever you want to—and everyone is so nice, you’ll make friends before you even realise you’re making them!” Charlie continued to yip as she took (Name)’s hand, unconsciously dragging her out through the streets of Pentagram City with an unexpectedly vice-like grip, “and, uh…dad’s there, sometimes. I promise I didn’t read enough of the story back there to know why you know each other, but I know you were, uh…‘associated’ with both of my parents. Letting you stay at the hotel is kind of like inviting family to stay over, if I really think about it!”

The way Charlie’s tone could dip into sadness only to leap back into joy was more than a little worrying—she was playing a character, evidently, even if it was a character that shared her genuine dreams. (Name) would never be cruel enough to call what she had ‘daddy issues’, but…

“I hope I can make a good impression. I’ve heard you have quite the cast of interesting characters in this little hotel of yours,” (Name) managed to reply as coherently as possible, “that odd Alastor fellow has taken a liking to the library—forever asking me questions I don’t know the answer to, that guy.”

“Yeah, that’s in character…but it’s great that you’ve already met a member of our staff! You’re going to be colleagues from tomorrow on, so already knowing one another is helpful,” Charlie replied, tailing off into a ramble about how there was actually good in the Radio Demon’s heart, and how he’d stop being a tease if (Name) showed that she was a ‘true friend’…

The Princess’ spiel didn’t quite feel like lies, but whatever truth was in what she said was so supremely sugar-coated that attempting to dig it out would be entirely impossible. That was likely the point, though—Charlie didn’t seem like the type to see the bad in anyone who hadn’t given her explicit reason to. She was a sweet girl.

“Hey, (Name)—you don’t have to think so hard about everything I’m saying to you, you know. You’re taking a good ten-second pause between each sentence,” Charlie spoke, her quick realisation of the workings of (Name)’s mind more than a little jarring; “just talk like nobody’s watching! Or, I guess, listening?”

Her tone seemed—

“(Name), you’re still doing it! Say something without thinking about every detail of what I just said,” Charlie attempted to coach, forcing (Name) to hold her gaze, “come on. Say what it is you’re thinking, with no pause to script!”

“…is that your hotel?” was all (Name) could get out under the clauses, a shaky finger pointing at the looming building just steps from being stumbled into by the girls.

“Oh! Yeah, we’re here. Come on in and meet everyone!” Charlie exclaimed, pulling (Name) through the door with far too much friendly force, “and remember—say what’s in your heart, not what you think you should say, okay?”

This was going to be a long fucking day.

[ball-of-butter]

“norta is north america” too bad no it isn’t it’s south america now

[syoddeye]

cygnet was devastating and beautiful. it hooked me on your writing and finding your masterlist is like finding a menu of my favorite foods. i started the Warren last night and cant believe we get to read this for free. thank you for posting everything.

🥲🧡 thank you. hope you enjoy.

[kazoosandfannypacks]

chapter summary: five years after learning about her superpowers, hope, is putting them to good use, despite the worry it creates for her best friend and partner in crime-fighting. chapter word count: 1090 a/n: this chapter mentions a cup of tea. for a long time, in place of "chamomile tea," the text simply read, "it's [OH CRAP WHAT KIND OF TEA DOES GIDEON DRINK?] tea." and I was almost sad to see that pre-editing note go XD. anyways, shoutout to the eternally beloved @accidental-spice for betaing this chapter! taglist:@accidental-spice@kanerallels@ouatnextgen@booksteaandtoomuchtv (if you'd like to be added to my cygnet scholar taglist, let me know!) also on ao3!

#2: My Show

 "Another happy landing." Hope thought, as her feet touched the ground in front of the old fort in the backyard, adrenaline still coursing her veins and her favorite song still blasting through her earpiece. She held a travel cup in each hand, but set them down outside the door to free up her hands for opening the rusted old door.

 Her fort hadn't changed much in the last five years— or the twelve before them. Sure, the carpet was more worn, as were the chairs and the peeling paint on the wall, but the only change for the better was a door with a keypad lock.

 Most of her friends still believed that this was a storage shed her parents had added on recently, her dad not wanting to mow around multiple buildings in the yard but needing the storage space, but only one knew different.

 Hope typed in a number on the keypad, and the door opened, not to a bunch of musty old boxes of Christmas decorations, but instead to a high tech and well lit room, complete with a fancy supersuit display case, a divider to change behind, an almost wall-sized computer, and a state of the art gaming chair— complete with a very frazzled guy in the chair.

 "Another day saved," Hope said, "and I even had time to grab you coffee on the way back."

 She snapped her fingers, and one of the cups she'd left at the door appeared in her hand.

 "I don't drink coffee." He said.

 "You think I don't know that by now, Gid?" Hope asked. "It's chamomile tea."

 Gideon took the cup from her and took a sip as she stepped behind the privacy divider on the opposite corner of the room.

 The divider had a full-length mirror behind it, as well as a pile of clothes she'd left in her rush to get out and stop the villain of the week, and a hanger to put her suit back on when she was done with it.

 No matter how many times she looked in the mirror and saw herself in her suit, it was always exciting. The shining golden and magenta jumpsuit, complete with a matching mask and the most comfortably practical yet somehow still stylish boots you could find— it all felt so, for lack of a better word, super.

 "Hope, you've gotta be careful out there," Gideon said.

 "You worry too much," Hope replied through the privacy screen as she took off her mask, "I had it handled. The Author's just a minor threat, and I put him in his place."

 "I beg to differ," Gideon replied.

 As Hope unzipped her jumpsuit, she could hear the feedback from the monitor, and looked over the top of divider to see a replay of her battle, reliving her most recent back-injury-due-to-getting-slammed-into-a-building in 4k high definition.

 "What's your point?" Hope asked, stepping out of the suit and trying to ignore the pain in the back of her head. She knew either an ibuprofen or a minute to sit down and breathe would patch her up, no problem.

 "You're gonna get hurt if you keep doing this," he said.

 Hope threw a black t-shirt over her tank top and a pair of off-white pants over her athletic shorts. She tried to shrug off Gideon's over-concerned warning by mumbling along to the music playing in her earpiece.

 "This is my show, baby, that's how it's gonna be. This is my show, baby, and it's all abou…."

 The volume faded out.

 "Hey!" Hope said, poking her head above the divider. "I was listening to that."

 "Listen to me." Gideon said. "You're not as invincible as you think. You can't keep picking these fights."

 "I'm not picking fights." Hope hung up her suit neatly on the hanger. "They're picking me. Helping people is just, what I do."

 "But you don't have to do it alone," Gideon said, "especially not when you're outmatched."

 "Hey," Hope threw on her pink leather jacket as she stepped out from behind the divider, "if I was outmatched, would I have made it back here in one piece?"

 "That's what worries me." Gideon rolled his eyes.

 "You worry too much." Hope flopped into the beanbag chair on the other side of the room.

 She pulled a handful of various yet particular friendship bracelets out of her jacket pocket and slid them onto her wrists.

 "I just don't know if you should still be out there alone." Gideon said, pulling up a chart on the screen. "I've been charting the crime in this city, and it's on the rise. In the last five years, evil has gone up exponentially, and ever since that dark one entered the playing field, it's only gotten worse."

 "So?" Hope asked. She snapped her fingers and her other travel cup from outside appeared in her hand, this one full of hot chocolate, which she smugly sipped.

 "Even the great heroes have a sidekick, Hope," he said, "Knave has Wondergirl, Equestria has The Outlaw, Saving Grace has Captain Guyliner…."

 "...and I have you," Hope interrupted.

 "You have me up to thirty miles away, giving you strategies that you barely listen to anyways."

 "Yeah, and it works great." Hope shrugged.

 "Let me go with you." Gideon said. "You'd be surprised how much help I could be."

 "We've been over this, Gid," Hope said, "besides the fact that you don't have powers…"

 "...Neither does Captain Guyliner," Gideon retorted.

 Hope ignored him, "...and the fact that I need you here,"

  "...Not as much as you need help out there…" Gudeon scoffed.

 "...I can't let you take that risk." Hope said. "If my parents saw you out there with me, they'd figure out I told you my secret pretty quickly— and then both of us would be benched from saving the world."

 Gideon sighed, the same way he always did when Hope was right.

 "Just, try to be more careful, okay?" Gideon said. "I can't help save the world if you're in traction, now, can I?"

 "I'll do my best." Hope pulled out her earpiece. "Now, can you please turn my music back on?"

 "I'll do you one better." Gideon said. "Surround sound."

 Hope smiled as the song she'd been listening to picked back up again, this time not in her earpiece, but over their headquarters speaker system, bass boosted just the way Hope liked it.

 "...it's all about me. This is my show. This is my show, baby, and that's how it's gonna be. Oh, and it's all about me…."

🩷•⚡•💛

[doofusschweetz]

I think this song's relevant today as it was back then.

"I believe in the power of good

I believe in the state of love

I will fight for the right to be right

I will kill for the good of the fight for the right to be right"

And I open my eyes to look around

And I see a child laid slain

On the ground

As a love machine lumbers through desolation rows

Plowing down man, woman, listening to its command

But not hearing anymore

Not hearing anymore

Just the shrieks from the old rich

And I want to believe

In the madness that calls 'Now'

And I want to believe

That a light's shining through

Somehow

And I want to believe

And you want to believe

And we want to believe

And we want to live

[marine-indie-gal]

Inktober 2024 Day 21: The Ugly Duckling

Another Fairytale, this Time from Hans Christian Andersen (in which that the Story itself was based on his Childhood Life that came to inspire Many Other "Ugly Duckling" inspired stories like Rudolph or Dumbo).

The Long-Lost Swan Cygnet was born to a Duck Family but he wasn't loved by his own Foster Family since his Parents & Siblings mocked him for being Too Different, even Other Animals would mock him as well.

The Poor Baby was all lost & alone after his Duck Family abandoned him, he was so broken in Sadness as he wandered all by himself. However, as he woke up & found himself older, he found himself all Beautiful as he realized that he had been a Swan this whole time when he discovered his own kind, he reunited with his Biological Family after all of these Years (even his own Foster Siblings couldn't believe it).

The Ugly Duckling (c) Hans Christian Andersen

[bitch-potatoes]

In trying times, in Bowie we trust

"And I close my eyes and tighten up my brain

For I once read a book in which the lovers were slain

For they knew not the words of the Free States' refrain

It said:

"I believe in the power of good

I believe in the state of love

I will fight for the right to be right

I will kill for the good of the fight for the right to be right"

And I open my eyes to look around

And I see a child laid slain

On the ground

As a love machine lumbers through desolation rows

Plowing down man, woman, listening to its command

But not hearing anymore

Not hearing anymore

Just the shrieks from the old rich

And I want to believe

In the madness that calls 'Now'

And I want to believe

That a light's shining through

Somehow

And I want to believe

And you want to believe

And we want to believe

And we want to live

Oh, we want to live

We want to live

..."

[celestiall0tus]

Reawakening - Soul

Table of Contents

            Psyche sat curled up as a swan on Zoe’s bed in the evening sunlight. She sighed contently as she drifted off to sleep.

            “I did it! I got the part!” Zoe cheered as she entered the room.

            Psyche jumped and honked. She took several deep breaths before she calmed. Zoe ran up, holding the script in a death grip.

            “You were right! I crushed the auditions and got the leading role.”

            Psyche smiled and transformed into her kwami form. “Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous, cygnet. Congratulations!”

            Zoe beamed, then looked away sheepishly. “You’ll still help me practice, right?”

            “Of course! Remember, you are a shining soul of untapped skill and potential my dear cygnet. And like any swan, you will spread your dazzling wings and stun the crowds with your spiritual radiance.”

            Zoe smiled softly. “Thank you. It’s nice having another person believe in me. I mean, sure there’s, well, Dad but not really my dad, you know?”

            “The man that claims you as his daughter but didn’t raise you or assist in the process of your creation and really just sees you as a validation for his buried passions?”

            Zoe sighed. “Yes, that one.”

            “I don’t like him. Or the harpy. She thought she was more radiant than I. The absolute blasphemy! The only one as radiant as I is that pompous peacock and only by a technicality.”

            “You didn’t get into another fight with Mom, did you?”

            Psyche opened her mouth when there was a knock. She and Zoe exchanged glances before Zoe answered it. Ondine smiled and waved sheepishly.

            “Ondine? What brings you here?”

            “Um, could I speak with Psyche? Terra suggested I speak with her about my problem.”

            “Of course! Come in.”

            Ondine stepped inside and took a seat on the couch. Zoe joined her with Psyche. Terra poked his head out of Ondine’s bag.

            “Psyche!” Terra called.

            Psyche beamed. “Terra!”

            The pair embraced each other before they settled between the girls.

            “Now, calf, what troubles you?” Psyche asked.

            “Well, I don’t know what to do about my boyfriend, Kim. He made a comment that still bothers me and it’s making it hard to be with him.”

            “What was the comment?” Psyche asked.

            “That… that Chloe was more beautiful and funnier than me.”

            Zoe’s jaw dropped. “He said that in front of you?”

            Ondine nodded.

            “That is troubling. And these words still hold power over you, yes?”

            Tears fell from Ondine’s eyes. “Yes. I want to ignore them, to just move on. I just want to be happy that I’m with him, but I can’t forget them. It hurts so much. Who am I really compared to Chloe?”

            “You’re a kind, amazing, breathtaking lady. You aren’t spiteful, hurtful, or horrendously mean like her. You are so much more than Chloe could ever be.”

            “Why doesn’t it feel that way? Why does it feel like he loves her more than me?”

            Zoe frowned and looked at Psyche.

            “Hmm. Well, you are in a predicament. This is a terrible weight on your soul. You can persevere if you are determined to stay with him. However, I would recommend you let him go.”

            “What? But I… I love him.”

            “Can you claim as much not wanting to be near him? Can you be certain that it doesn’t stress you out being with him? Can you truly stand by these feelings if you dislike his mere presence?”

            Ondine fell silent. Fresh tears fell from her eyes.

            Zoe hugged Ondine tight. “I’m sorry he said that. You deserved so much more.”

            Ondine took a sharp breath. She broke down in sobbing fits and clung to Zoe.