#even with healing magic they are not going to be in great shape after all that

[squidaped-oyt]

Astarion's incredibly insincere and obvious Act 1 flattery comes off even worse in the case of the Dark Urge lmao

[lurkingshan]

Shan's Favorite Dramas of 2024

The year is wrapping up and I have forced myself to narrow down to a list of 15 (I tried 10 but the choices were too hard!) of my favorite 2024 dramas across genres and countries of origin. This is not every drama I liked this year (that list would be incredibly long), but these are the ones that inspired the most brain rot and really stuck with me.

At 25:00 in Akasaka (Japan, Gaga)

The mood and tone of this drama was just perfect, and I loved the way it explored the blurred lines and confusion that can result when the real and fake aspects of a professional relationship get all mixed up. Hayama was a great character and I loved his arc, in particular.

Cherry Magic (Thailand, Viu)

I still can't believe how much I loved this adaptation. A fantastic example of taking a work from another culture and translating it to a new context while not only retaining the core narrative, but even enhancing it. This show gave us what the Japanese version didn't--the resolution to the physical intimacy arc at the core of the premise--and retained all the charm of the original while adding new humor. And delivered one of the best romances of the year while it was at it!

Don't Care for an Old Man's Underwear (Japan, fansub)

Oppan, my beloved. Easily the best family drama of the year, loaded with excellent messages while (mostly) avoiding feeling like an after-school special. Makoto's journey to update his thinking with Daichi's help, and the mutual friendship that developed between them, is one of my favorite relationships of the year. I loved every character's story; there is something for everyone to connect with in this show.

Fangs of Fortune (China, iQIYI)

This drama was just so much FUN. A gorgeous feast for the eyes, a wealth of fascinating characters and relationship dynamics, and a fast-moving plot that you don't need to try too hard to understand. It was a great binge and Li Lun was easily my favorite villain of the year.

Gyeongseong Creature (South Korea, Netflix)

A gorgeous period piece set during one of the darkest chapters of Korean history, this one took me by surprise (I am usually not a horror girlie). The writing for this show had surprising depth and I loved its themes around family and loyalty and survival under fascism.

Knock Knock Boys (Thailand, Gaga)

My boys! I loved this show about a group of four queer men living together in a shared house, getting into mischief and supporting each other through school and work and relationship struggles. The show is funny and breezy but also manages to tackle some serious issues with grace while delivering two strong romances and my favorite coming out narrative of the year.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (South Korea, iQIYI)

Winner for best QL of the year, and a romance that will be sticking with me for a long time. Dohoe is one of the most honest and unflinching depictions of a an adult psyche shaped by childhood abuse that I have ever seen on my screen. It was healing to see him treated with such compassion and to see him and Juyoung find their way to a happy life together. An absolute must watch for all you angst with a happy ending fans.

Love for Love’s Sake (South Korea, iQIYI)

It's so hard to get a high concept premise like this right, but this drama did an amazing job with it. It's one of those shows where you can go back over everything that happened in retrospect and it all adds up, and I loved that the ending lent itself to so many different interpretations. One of the best watch experiences of the year.

Love in the Big City (South Korea, Viki)

Go Young, my beloved. This drama adaptation of the internationally successful novel exceeded my wildest expectations, and I am still a little stunned that we got the privilege of seeing it. It is, bar none, the most authentically queer show on this list, and a beautiful depiction of all the significant relationships in one young man's life. I will be rewatching it many times and keeping it close to my heart.

Love is Like a Poison (Japan, fansub)

A masterful blend of comedy, action, and romance, this drama about a lawyer with delusions of grandeur and the scam artist who decides to become his partner was a constant delight and gave us my favorite battle couple of the year.

Marahuyo Project (Philippines, YouTube)

I can't tell you the joy and relief I felt to get another high quality queer drama from the Philippines this year. And this one had such a great cast of characters, anchored by one of my favorite protagonists of the year in King. It's funny, it's romantic, it's touching, and as always for a JP Haboc production, it has an amazing soundtrack.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (Japan, fansub)

My girls! I'm still amazed by how much this drama gave us in its second season by expanding the world of the show beyond our two main characters to include so many other women whose stories were just as fascinating. This is the season where Nomoto and Kasuga really came into themselves and started building the life they want to have together, and it was a real joy to watch.

Tender Light (China, YouKu)

The way this show had me in a chokehold while it was airing! Visually stunning, incredibly well-constructed, and featuring one of the best performances of the year from Zhang Xin Cheng, it's an exhilarating mystery and a very touching story of the unusual bond between a student and the older woman who fascinates and terrifies him.

The Midnight Romance in Hagwon (South Korea, Viki)

You know a drama is good when it has you deeply invested in a random topic you never thought you were interested in. In this case, that's the intense debate on pedagogical methods between the public schools and hagwons in Korea. Alongside delivering a great romance, this drama was passionate about teaching and it sucked me right in to the Korean literature lessons at the heart of the story.

Unknown (Taiwan)

No other drama inspired more brain rot in me this year than this story of a family rocked by changing feelings as the chosen siblings grow up. The loyalty and love and complex desire between Wei Qian and Wei Yuan is the heart of this story, and the drama did an incredible job of taking us along for the journey as things shifted and changed between them. I still think about them all the time.

Bonus: Favorite Classic Dramas Watched for the First Time in 2024

I am always catching up on an endless backlog of dramas alongside my live watches. Here are the best gems I finally watched this year.

Lost (South Korea, Viki)

I loved this deeply melancholy drama about two lost souls who connect unexpectedly. I finally pulled it up from my to be watched list because it shares director Hur Jin Ho with Love in the Big City (he did part 2 with Go Young's mom) and it sure feels like it! The characters are deep and complicated, the relationships are complex and carefully built, and it is hands down the best encapsulation of a failed marriage between two good people who truly loved each other that I have ever seen. It's heavy and not for everyone--mining the depths of human despair is kind of its thing--but if you like this sort of story it's world class.

Mouse (South Korea, Viki)

I was recently in the market for a good mystery thriller, so I finally watched this apparently very divisive 2021 drama--and if there's a divide I am firmly on the HELL YEAH side of the line. This drama had an interesting concept (that I will not describe bc holy shit spoilers, you should go in knowing nothing) that it unwound with remarkable patience and precision over 20 episodes. Its themes were strong and consistent, the lead characters were super compelling, the plotting and pacing and editing were unbelievably tight, the performances were incredible, and it made a lot of provocative points and ended well, feeling coherent and complete. It sustained my full interest and attention without any stumbles for ~25 incredible hours.

Mr. Sunshine (South Korea, Netflix)

Another one that's been on my watch list forever and finally got its moment when I was in the mood for a historical where ladies got to wield weapons alongside the men. And unsurprisingly, I loved it. Writer Kim Eun Sook is known for her big, glossy, epic dramas, and her style made a good pairing with a story about a rebel faction during the Japanese occupation of Korea. I really loved all the main characters in this show, and was moved by the complicated exploration of their loyalty (or lack thereof) to their homeland. This drama also has a very strong class analysis baked into its themes, which I very much appreciated. It was a traumatic watch, but in a way that felt right given the setting and the choices characters made.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (Thailand, YouTube)

I watched this one on a mission and it was worth every moment. Nut is one of my favorite protagonists in any queer drama, and I thought the show made great use of its fantasy concept to explore some very real human experiences with depth and compassion. This show feels like an especially important counterpoint to the Thal BL bubble, and I recommend it highly for anyone who enjoys those dramas.

When I Fly Towards You (China, Netflix)

And we end on a light and sweet note, with my favorite coming of age romance that I watched all year. This drama was just lovely, and it will be a go-to rewatch for me for years to come. There’s something so comforting about a story where you start with the happy ending before jumping to the beginning, and just get to sit back and see how they get there. I loved all the characters in this and marveled at how it was never boring despite being decidedly low angst.

[tired-truffle]

Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 6.9k

Part 17/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

“You have me. Until every last star in the galaxy dies. You have me.” - Amie Kaufman

Masterlist

Burning and shredding, you felt yourself being torn apart and remade, your mind split and shattered only to be pieced back together again.

You were everywhere and everywhen at once. Threads, intersecting and glimmering spread out before you, like a hundred violins smashed together, strings overlapping as they cried a haunting tune. Your hand reached out, brushing against the gossamer strands, and visions unlike any other flooded your mind.

You stood atop the ruins of Piltover, your hand intertwined with Viktor's. His mask was gone, revealing a face covered in glowing Hextech augmentations. You wore a crown of twisted metal and crackling energy, your eyes ablaze with power. The city below was a spectacle of gleaming chrome and pulsing light, every citizen augmented and connected to a vast network. You had remade the world in Viktor’s image, free from the tyranny of emotion and human frailty. But as you looked upon your perfect creation, a hollowness echoed within your chest where your heart used to be.

Another thread pulled you in, and you were beset by rage and grief. Piltover burned around you, great plumes of smoke rising into the blood-red sky. Your magic, fueled by anguish, tore through the city like a hurricane. Buildings crumbled, bridges collapsed, and the screams of the dying filled the air. You kneeled at the epicentre of the destruction, tears streaming down your ash-covered face as you cradled Viktor's broken body. Sobs heaved from your chest, strings of spit strung between your teeth as you cried, open-mouthed and feral. He had died trying to stop you, and in your madness, you had struck him down. As the last remnants of the city fell, you realized too late the cost of your vengeance.

Tossed again like a doll held by a rambunctious little girl, you were thrown into a jarringly different scene. Piltover was saved, but at a terrible price. You stood before a cheering crowd, hailed as part of the city's saviours. Jayce stood beside you, his face grim but grateful. But Viktor was gone. You had stopped his plan, prevented the destruction he would have wrought, but in doing so, you had lost him forever. As the crowd's adulation washed over you, you felt nothing but a numbing emptiness, a black hole in your chest that sucked in everything that made you, you.

You pulled back, gasping, overwhelmed by the intensity of the visions. But they kept coming, each one more vivid than the last.

In one, you and Viktor worked together, using your combined powers to heal the rift between Piltover and Zaun. You saw yourself mediating disputes, your empathy tempering Viktor's logic, your magic able to give him his emotions back and keep him level. The two cities flourished, technology and humanity in perfect balance. But the constant struggle wore on you both, and you saw the light in Viktor's eyes dim with each passing year, slowly becoming more machine than human, going too far for even your magic to reach.

Another showed you alone, wandering the world as an immortal being of pure magic. You had absorbed so much power that your human form had burned away entirely. Centuries passed in the blink of an eye as you drifted, searching for meaning, for connection, for anything to fill the Viktor-shaped void in your heart.

Thread after thread, timeline after timeline unfolded before you - for that was what they were, all possible futures. In some, you ruled. In others, you destroyed. In a few, you saved the world. But in none of them did you truly have Viktor - the man you loved, whole and happy and by your side.

Ethereal and serene as freshly fallen snow, Soraka's voice echoed through the swirling chaos of timelines, gentle yet insistent. "You must choose a path," she urged.

You hadn’t expected to hear her again, and though you couldn’t see her through the haze of the shimmering strands, you found an odd comfort that she was there with you, at the end. She had made this all possible in the first place, hadn’t she? It seemed only fitting.

But you had suffered enough and you refused to accept a future without Viktor, without the love and happiness you both deserved. With grim determination, you reached out, not to grasp a single thread, but to gather them all in your hands. The timelines thrummed with power, vibrating against your skin like living things.

"I will make my own path," you declared, your voice resonating with newfound purpose and the lost dreams of those who should have lived to see them come to fruition. "I'll carve it from the bedrock and brimstone if I have to."

The how was yet to make itself clear, but you could feel the immense power that ran through the threads, magic calling to magic, begging to be used.

Soraka appeared by your side, but she was no longer the same as when you last saw her. Her once violet skin and warrior's attire had been replaced with an otherworldly form, one that radiated with divine power - one that befitted a goddess.

Her skin, pale as the morning sky, glowed with soft moonlight from within. Robes of the finest silks in shades of gold, azure, and white adorned her slender frame, her large sleeves giving her a royal air. A horn crafted from emerald stone sat atop her forehead, framed by an ornate crown and the soft tresses of pure white hair. Her gown cascaded down to cover her legs, the skirt shimmering as though it was made of gently flowing water.

Her eyes, filled with infinite compassion, met yours. "You walk a dangerous path, little one," she said softly. "But I cannot deny the strength of your love."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, glowing with celestial light. As it fell, she caught it, holding it out to you. "You will need this," she said, her voice tinged with both sorrow and hope. "A fragment of divine essence, freely given. May it provide the last piece that you require."

You took the tear, feeling its warmth pulse against your palm. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick and trembling.

Soraka smiled. "Good luck," she said simply, before fading away, leaving you alone with your monumental task.

You clutched the threads and the tear, feeling their power buzzing against your skin like a heartbeat. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let yourself fall into the cosmic tapestry.

The threads wrapped around you, a story of infinite possibilities. Soraka's tear dissolved, seeping into your soul. Power surged through you, raw and primal. It was like swallowing a star, your body incandescent with energy.

You were the eye of a hurricane, the calm center as madness swirled around you. Memories and futures crashed together like tectonic plates, grinding and reshaping reality. Your mind expanded, consciousness stretching across time and space.

You were the stars, the inky vast expanse of nothingness that cradled them in its hands. You were the sun, the moon, the wishes that children made when light streaked across the sky. Your hair blended with the cosmos, your eyes alight with their eternal shine. Hope and love and dreams made real. 

This was what you were meant to be; a bringer of comfort, a being of protection. 

Colours you'd never seen before painted your vision. Sounds beyond human comprehension filled your ears. You tasted stardust and felt the birth of galaxies in your bones.

Souls burned like small golden balls of flame all around you. Everywhere you looked you saw them, drifting, floating, winking out as others took their space. Your teeth rattled with their rage, their terror, your lips tingling with their joy and love and laughter. Curiosity plucked at your ribs, grief squeezed at your heart. It was chaos and confusion, a little boy lost in a bustling city, crying for his father, a young woman navigating her new school campus, afraid of being away from home for the first time in her life. It was the warmth of putting one’s feet up by the fire after a long day out in the snow, a cat curling up in their owner's lap, digging their nails into soft flesh as they purred their satisfaction - even as it hurt. 

It was everything, and by the gods it was beautiful. 

Like floating down a trickling stream, you turned, seeking, searching, reaching out with the love that tangled like vines around your heart, grown into the steady beat until it became one. 

And the flow of your love was met with its reflection, the love that was given so freely to you - once lost, but found again. You would have sobbed your relief, made rivers form from mountains as you eroded the weathered rock with your salty tears, but contentment took its place. 

Swooping towards the pull of your mirrored heart like a bird fluttering in a gentle breeze, you came upon the ethereal golden glow of the two souls that belonged to those you held dear. 

“—must go, Jayce, and take Milá with you.” The unmistakable accent of Viktor’s voice floated through the stars, through your fingers and up to your ears. 

“We finish this together, and you know she would never abandon you either.” Jayce, firm in his conviction, his soul pulsing with the strength of his belief. 

You chuckled, the sound reverberating through the emptiness as the souls turned their attention to you. As swift as the wind at the front of a storm head, you closed the remaining distance, and blinked, the souls glowing softly in one moment, and in the next, floated the two men on the precipice of ending this war. 

Jayce, with his flowing locks and scruffy beard, watched you with awe in his dark eyes.

And Viktor, your lovely, sweet Viktor, looking just as you remembered before the changes - his hair shining a startling white, but beneath you knew the waves of chestnut remained - reached towards you, hand outstretched and curious. But you were much too large, your form stretched across the night sky, and his palm took up no more space than a freckle upon your cheek. Still, you leaned into his touch, into the soft curves of his fingers, his calluses.

“Milácku,” he whispered with reverence, eyes wide and lips parted.

“He’s right,” you said, your voice falling over them like a rain. “I’m not going anywhere. You do your work, and I’ll do mine. Deal?” 

“A team, like always,” Jayce agreed, holding his hand out for Viktor, arcane stone in his palm. 

There was nothing left for you to say, and as Viktor reached for his partner, you stretched and grew until they sat in the palm of your hands, glowing souls that collided in a blinding array of sparks. 

You wove your magic around them, a shimmering cocoon of starlight and dreams made real. As they burned brighter, you felt their souls pulsing with power, their essences intertwining. Your cosmic fingers gently cradled them, keeping them safe as the energy built to a new height.

You watched, breathless, as streams of magic curled around Viktor and Jayce, binding them together in a dance of light and shadow. Their forms blurred, becoming indistinct as they merged with the arcane energy.

Colours exploded outward, each hue carrying a memory, an emotion. You saw flashes of their shared past - late nights in the lab, heated arguments that turned to laughter, quiet moments of understanding. Love, frustration, hope, and determination. It was all there, and it was stunning.

The light grew blinding, forcing you to squint even with your cosmic eyes. You felt the surge building and your heart raced, a staccato rhythm that echoed through the vastness of space.

With a soundless roar, Viktor and Jayce's combined energy erupted. The force of it threatened to tear reality apart, to scatter their souls. But you were ready.

You tightened your web of magic, wrapping it around them like a net. The threads of your power, woven from galaxies and divine tears, held firm. You poured every ounce of your love, your hope, your unwavering belief in them into that protective barrier.

When the explosion finally subsided, you were left holding two softly glowing orbs - Viktor and Jayce's souls, preserved and protected, shining with the same light blue hue as your magic.

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your cheeks, each droplet a newborn star. You had done it. They were safe, plucked from the edge of extinction and held in your palms like the most precious of pearls. 

You breathed deeply, your inhale rippling across reality like a stone cast into still waters. You needed somewhere to go, somewhere where you could all finally get the rest you were owed.

"Go forth my child,” Soraka had whispered to you as you’d fallen through the void for the first time. “Like a blazing comet streaking through the darkened sky. Your mission is clear: to mend their broken bodies and souls, to rescue them from certain death. You hold the key to their salvation, the only hope for a future free from destruction."

You had thought you’d failed, had allowed death and destruction to reign, but perhaps you’d been looking at it wrong. Death would happen no matter what you did, it was the cycle of life. But after life…nothing but oblivion. That was, until you.

With a gentle exhale, you willed a new reality into existence, fuelled by your magic. The cosmos shimmered and parted like a curtain, revealing a realm of breathtaking beauty. Rolling hills of soft, luminescent grass stretched as far as the eye could see, each blade swaying in a breeze that carried the whispers of a thousand lifetimes. The sky above was an ever-changing background of colours, auroras dancing in mesmerizing patterns.

Crystal-clear streams meandered through the landscape, their waters gleaming with memories of joy and laughter. Trees with silver bark and leaves of spun starlight dotted the hills, their branches reaching towards the heavens - though, you supposed, this was as close to heaven as one could get. Beneath their canopies, shimmering flowers bloomed, each petal a fragment of a cherished moment.

You felt a stirring in your chest. The three souls you had gathered - the warmth of a friend, the love of a father, and the curiosity of a child - began to float towards this new paradise. They drifted from your heart like dandelion seeds on the wind, each carrying a piece of your essence with them. They would be the first to enjoy the afterlife you had created, but they would not be the last.

Opening your hands, you freed both Jayce and Viktor from your pull, letting them fall like leaves in autumn towards the haven that awaited them. It would all be over soon, you could rest, be free from pain and suffering at long last, and—

Viktor’s soul remained unmoving, his brilliant light dim and pulsing, the taste of rain on a gloomy day hitting the back of your tongue. You returned your hands to holding him, but where he’d once felt like determination and fear, he now felt like the screaming anguish of someone who’d lost everything at their own hands. And with all your power, the magic that flowed over and through you like a dying star given rebirth, you couldn’t cure his self-blame. But you were still you, even made of starlight and the memories of millions, and perhaps, that was what Viktor needed most; not the goddess, but simply you, his miláčku. 

You inhaled, deep and expansive, your lungs filling with the nothingness around you, and when you exhaled, you released pieces of yourself into the galaxy, shrinking down until you’d returned to your human height. Were you still human? 

Existential questions could wait, what was most important was Viktor, his soul, tinged in your protective blue glue, floating before you. With a wave of your hand, you returned his form back to him, channeling your magic. He could communicate - you think - in his soul-form, but whether he knew how, or could express as much was not clear. 

He was exactly how you remembered him on the day of the council explosion; his hair swept back and curled around his ears, devoid of any metal, thin, but entirely himself. The only difference being the press of guilt sitting heavy on his shoulders, curling them in, and the dullness of his once brilliant eyes. 

Without thinking, you reached for him, hand outstretched, needing to feel him, to know he was real. But you came to an abrupt stop when he flinched, not meeting your gaze, head hung. 

Silence stretched between you, the distance becoming a gaping canyon. You wanted to hold him, to offer him comforting words, but not before he was ready. 

And maybe your own anger over your own loss had you hesitating to try. 

“They’re gone, aren’t they?” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, your form of starlight and the darkness of space shimmering at the edges. 

You didn’t need to confirm it, he already knew, had felt their souls disintegrate when he took over their bodies. 

He sucked his teeth, shaking his head. “They came to me for healing, they were vulnerable and desperate and I-I used them,” he spat. “I burned their souls out of their bodies and they are lost forever because of me.”

“Viktor—“ you started, but he was quick to cut you off. 

“I do not deserve what you have made,” he turned towards the space you’d carved out of nothing, where you’d laid the foundations for something better than non-existence. “It…radiates goodness and purity, I cannot go there.”

It was simple to keep your face carefully blank when it wasn’t a face at all, and merely a collection of constellations. “Sulking out here won’t bring them back.”

His head turned to you with a sharp twist of his neck, incredulous disbelief in the curve of his brows. “How do you not despise me? Charlotte, you loved her, and I destroyed her.”

Your chest bloomed with a swirl of blue and violet stars, your grief laid bare. “Yes, you did,” your voice wavered, “I…am angry and hurt but it’s not directly solely at you - there were many factors that led to Charlotte’s death and the destruction of her soul. I blame myself too, I blame Piltover and their lack of care for the citizens of Zaun, I blame Jayce for killing that last piece of your humanity you had left, and yes, I blame you, though it is unfair to say there were no other circumstances that led to this ending. Your mind was corrupted, and I do have some experience with what that’s like. With time, I will heal, but you will have to exist with that guilt forever. There is nothing you can do, no one left to pardon you.” 

It was harsh, but honest, and you did not have the energy to shield the truth from him, nor did you believe it would help. Still, the agonized grimace that twisted his lips, the tears gathering in his eyes, had your limbs tingling with the need to hold him tight, to soothe your hand down his hair and tell him everything would be okay.

“I don’t want that.” He pulled back his upper lip in a sneer, his teeth clenched. 

“Too bad,” you shot back. “You don’t get to shy away from the things you’ve done, to drift off into nothingness because it would be easier than facing it. I have never known you to be such a coward.” He flinched again and you stopped yourself, your hands clenched into fists. Taking out your anger and grief on him while he was already in such a vulnerable state would not benefit anyone.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the stars. “Viktor, I…do you remember what I said to you on top of the Hexgate?”

His eyes swam with sorrow, deep pools of molten gold. “Every word,” he whispered like a promise. 

Your heart ached to see him like this, a shell of his former self. “We all played a part in this; if I hadn’t used the Hexcore to heal you, none of this would have happened. If we had died when we were supposed to, maybe we could have saved a lot of people from suffering. But there are too many ifs and buts and frankly, I don’t care enough to catalogue them all, nor would it change anything. I meant what I said, that I don’t regret a second of our time together, even through it all. I can’t bring myself to wish I could change it.”

Viktor’s eyes darted between yours as though he was searching for your sanity and could find no traces. “You absorbed thirty Gemstones, surely you have lost your mind and you do not truly mean that.”

You giggled, unable to hold yourself back. “It was closer to forty, but I think I’ve always been a little crazy when it comes to you.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to persuade you to leave him to rot with those tactics, he changed his approach. “Milá, you made an afterlife, such a feat…it boggles the mind. You are…” he sighed, heavy and tired, affection swirling with the sorrow in his eyes. “You are a goddess, radiant and powerful and the most magnificent being in all of creation. And I…what good have I done?”

The answer was simple, it came to your tongue like breath to your lungs. “You loved me, for starters, and without you I never would have made it this far.” 

He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand. “Wait, I’m not finished.” And when he reluctantly crossed his arms over his chest, you continued, “You were a kind and loving friend, you taught others the value of science and how to apply it which I’m sure will lead to all sorts of wonderful advances. You made me laugh when no one else could, and even though you hurt them in the end, you healed so many, provided them relief for the first times in many of their lives. But your value isn’t only what you can provide to others. You fought for yourself, for your right to live. You pursued goals others could only dream of, and you did what you had to survive. You couldn’t have known how it would end, neither of us did, not fully.”

He twisted his lips, his shoulders tightening, unable to meet your gaze. “I essentially killed you—“

“And I essentially killed you,” you countered, watching as his mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he failed to come up with a rebuttal. 

“If you had never met me, you would still be alive,” he managed at last. 

You smiled then, sad and gentle. “Not without you, not in any ways that matter.”

His eyes widened, jaw slack in disbelief. Silence settled between you once more, but this time, you felt peace. The anger was still there, your grief simmering beneath the surface. Charlotte had been…like a mother, in the short time you’d known her. Losing her so completely had torn your heart in two. But you would have time to sort through that pain, right now, Viktor needed to get to a place where he could begin mending. You’d both been through enough, you deserved a happy ending. 

“I-I used a whole commune, I tore out their souls.”

“You did,” you floated forwards, stopping when he pulled back. “And that does not change how much I love you.”

Panic, fleeting and sharp crossed his angular face. “I aligned with a military, invasive force that killed hundreds.”

“And I love you,” you countered, moving closer again, only a few feet between you.

“I was going to subjugate the entire world, to remove their ability to choose in the pursuit of perfection!” His voice had raised an octave, but he no longer pulled away when you continued to float closer. 

“And I love you.” A few inches now, and you stopped, hand raised to cup his cheek in your stardust palm.

“But I…” his breath came in sharp pants, tears shining in his red-rimmed eyes. “I hurt you.”

“Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but love isn’t about never making mistakes, it’s about how we handle them when they happen. Even the big ones.” Charlotte’s words of wisdom floated from you with ease. You tilted your head, running your fingers through his hair and watching with rapt attention as he shivered. “Viktor, I have loved you through life and death and rebirth. I will love you for eternity. So please, let yourself be loved.”

Like the breaking of a dam, Viktor crumbled. He fell into your arms, his body colliding with yours, two celestial bodies drawn together by gravity. You enveloped him, your cosmic form moulding around his. He curled into you, face buried against your chest as he wept. You held him tight, one hand cradling the back of his head while the other traced soothing patterns along his spine.

As you comforted him, comets streaked from your eyes instead of tears. They blazed brilliant trails across the inky void, each one carrying a fragment of your shared grief. The comets sailed past distant nebulae and newborn stars, their fiery tails painting the darkness with your sorrow.

Viktor's fingers dug into your shoulders, clinging to you as if you were the only solid thing in a universe gone mad. His tears soaked into your starlight skin, creating ripples of iridescent colour that spread outward like rings in a pond. You felt every shuddering breath, every choked sob as if they were your own.

Time lost all meaning as you floated there, two souls intertwined amidst the nothingness of space. Galaxies spun lazily around you, their spiralling arms seeming to cradle you like those of a loving parent.

Ever so slowly, his sobs began to subside. His grip on you loosened, though he made no move to pull away. You felt the tension gradually leave his body as exhaustion took hold. His breathing evened out, punctuated only by the occasional hiccup or sniffle.

You continued to hold him, one hand stroking his hair while murmuring soft words of love. The comets falling from your eyes grew fewer and farther between, until at last they ceased altogether. A sense of peace settled over you both, as delicate as spun sugar but no less real for its fragility.

“I want to take you home,” you whispered into the shell of his ear - though home had always been anywhere with him.

Viktor slowly pulled back, his amber eyes rimmed with red but no longer overflowing with tears. He gazed at you, wonder and hesitation warring on his face. You cupped his cheek, your celestial flesh warm against his skin.

"I would like that," he whispered, barely audible even in the vast silence of space.

Relief flooded through you, setting off a cascade of shooting stars across your form. You took his hand, intertwining your fingers, and gently tugged him towards the paradise you'd created. As you descended, the universe seemed to contract around you. Stars rushed past in streaks of light, galaxies blurred into swirls of colour.

Your feet touched down on soft grass that glowed with a gentle inner light. The blades bent beneath your weight, releasing a sweet scent that reminded you of summer evenings and childhood laughter. Viktor stumbled slightly as he landed, unused to having a physical form again. You steadied him, your hand on his shoulder.

For a moment, you both stood still, taking in the breathtaking beauty of your creation. The ever-changing sky painted everything in soft, ethereal hues. A warm breeze caressed your skin, carrying whispers of joy and contentment.

You closed your eyes, focusing inward. Your cosmic form buzzed with energy, too vast and powerful to be contained in a human shape. Slowly, you began to compress that power, folding it inward like origami. Stars collapsed into neutron-dense points within your chest. Galaxies spiraled down into the marrow of your bones. The vast emptiness between celestial bodies became the spaces between your atoms.

It was an odd sensation, like trying to pour an ocean into a teacup. Your skin tingled and stretched as it struggled to contain your new nature. You felt simultaneously infinite and impossibly small. Memories of countless lives flickered through your mind - births and deaths, triumphs and failures, love and loss - before settling into the background hum of your subconscious.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing on solid ground, in a form that was both familiar and strange. Your hair floated around you as if suspended in water, each strand containing a glimmering nebula. Your skin shimmered, constellations mapping themselves across your body in ever-shifting patterns. When you breathed, stardust escaped your lips in glittering clouds. And as always - your constant companions - the blue balls of light that belonged to your sparks floated lazily around you.

You turned to Viktor, but before you could take in his wide-eyed expression, a blur of motion caught your eye. Without warning, someone launched themselves at you with a delighted squeal, wrapping you in a tight hug, arms around your neck. The sudden impact sent you staggering back a step, your body rippling with surprise.

For a moment, confusion reigned. Your mind, still adjusting to its new vastness, struggled to process this unexpected development. But familiar sensations washed over you - the tickle of dark curls against your cheek, the scent of sunlight and tender friendship that could only belong to one person.

"Sky," you breathed, your voice cracking around the syllable of her name.

As if your recognition had unlocked something within you, your legs gave out, and you sank to the luminescent grass. She went down with you, refusing to let go even for a moment.

Sobs pulled from your chest in painful tears, your body shaking and weak. Sky held you through it all, her small frame surprisingly strong. Her hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, leaving trails of warmth that felt like home.

"I've got you," she murmured, her voice thick with her own tears. "I've got you, and I'm never letting go again."

How had you not recognized her soul when it had sat so snuggly in your chest?

You clung to her, your fingers digging into the fabric of her sundress as if she might disappear if you loosened your grip even slightly. Flowers sprouted and bloomed around you in a rapid cycle, their petals opening and closing like a visual representation of your racing heartbeat.

You cried for everything you'd lost, for the agony you'd endured, for the impossible choices you'd been forced to make. But you also cried with relief and joy at this unexpected reunion, at the miracle of having your dearest friend back in your arms.

Gradually, your sobs subsided, replaced by hiccupping breaths and the occasional sniffle. You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Sky's face. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but her smile was as bright and warm as ever. Her eyes, filled with love and understanding, met yours without flinching from your new, otherworldly appearance.

“The whole time,” you whispered, your bottom lip quivering. “You were with me the whole time.”

“You kept me safe. Even when I didn’t know that I was, well, me, you held my soul until I could come back to myself.” She laughed, breathy and tear-strained. “You are amazing, Milá. I can’t wait to hear about everything I missed.”

You laughed through your tears, the sound tinkling like broken glass. "I've missed you so much."

A gentle cough drew your attention. Viktor stood awkwardly nearby, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes darted between you and Sky, a mix of emotions playing across his face - relief, guilt, uncertainty. Gone was the glowing blue aura of your magic. He was simply Viktor, no Hexcore metal, no sickness lingering in his lungs, cane held lightly over his forearm.

Sky noticed him too. Her grip on you loosened slightly as she turned to face him. For a moment, tension crackled in the air like static electricity.

Then Sky smiled, warm and welcoming. "Hello, Viktor. It's good to see you again."

Viktor's eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I…I'm sorry, Sky. For everything."

Sky's expression softened. "I know. And I don’t blame you."

Those simple words seemed to lift a great weight from Viktor's shoulders. He sagged visibly, exhaling a shaky breath.

Pushing yourself up to stand, you took Viktor’s hand in yours. His skin was plush and warm beneath your touch, and his fingers intertwined with yours as he gave you a small smile.

As you drank in the sight of him whole and unburdened, movement over his shoulder caught your eye. In the distance, beneath the boughs of a tree with silver bark and twinkling leaves, stood a figure you had only ever seen in your dreams. Vander, his face creased in a gentle smile, knelt beside a little girl, dyed blue hair lovingly tied back in twin braids. Isha, you realized with a start, her round features lit by the soft glow emanating from the grass beneath her feet.

Vander placed a comforting hand on Isha's shoulder, and you watched as she smiled shyly up at him. The sight tugged at your heart, a bittersweet ache of recognition flooding through you. These were the other two souls you'd carried with you, nestled safely within you until you could bring them to this place of peace.

Your moment of reflection was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Hey! Wait for me!"

You looked up to see Jayce jogging towards you, his gait slightly uneven but determined. He was cleaned up, his beard neatly trimmed and his hair combed back. The only evidence of his past ordeals was the leg brace he still wore.

Jayce slowed as he approached, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry I'm late. Got a bit turned around in this place." His eyes widened as he took in your new look. "Wow, Mila. You look��different."

You couldn't help but laugh, genuine and relieved to see him in one piece - and back to himself. "It's been quite a journey."

Jayce nodded, his lips pursing. "I can imagine." He turned to Viktor, extending his hand. "Partner. It's good to see you back to yourself again without the imminent threat of arcane destruction."

Viktor hesitated for a moment before clasping Jayce's hand. "And you, Jayce. We have much to discuss after…all that.”

“We do,” Jayce agreed, “but I’d like a minute just to, uh, process it, if that’s alright with you.”

Viktor inclined his head. “Of course.”

"So," Sky said, antsy as the tension pulled taut between the two men. She turned to you. "What's it like being a goddess?"

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction to take the pressure off of Jayce and Viktor. They had plenty of time to work through their issues, jumping in right away would only lead to further strife. You’d all had more than your fair share of that. "Overwhelming. Beautiful. Terrifying." You paused, considering. "I'm not sure I'd call myself a goddess, exactly. More like…a cosmic caretaker?"

Viktor's hand tightened in yours. "You created an afterlife," he pointed out, awe colouring his tone. "If that's not goddess-like, I do not know what is."

You leaned into him, savouring his warmth. How close you’d come to losing him…you didn’t want to think about it. "I couldn't have done it without you. Any of you. Your love, your friendship, it gave me the strength to reshape reality. Thank you."

Sky beamed at you, her eyes sparkling. "Well, I for one think you've done a wonderful job. This place is beautiful."

As if in response to her words, the sky above you erupted in bright aurora-like waves of light that danced across the heavens.

"It's incredible," Viktor breathed. He turned to you, a hint of his old curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "How does it work?”

"I'm not entirely sure yet," you admitted. "It's all still so new. But I think…" You paused, reaching out with your newfound senses.

The realm pulsed around you, alive in ways you were only beginning to understand. You could feel the ebb and flow of energy, the intricate webs of connection between all things. It was gorgeous and frightening, like holding a living star in your hands.

"I think it's responsive," you said slowly, "to emotions, needs, and desires. It's not just a static place, but something that can grow and change."

As if to demonstrate your point, a cluster of flowers suddenly bloomed at Viktor’s feet. Their petals were translucent, catching the light in rainbow hues.

"Fascinating," Viktor muttered to himself, releasing your hand to kneel and examine the flowers more closely. "The potential significance is staggering. An infinitely adaptable environment, capable of providing for any need."

Even in the face of the miraculous, Viktor's scientific mind never stopped working.

"Well," Jayce said, clapping his hands together, "as amazing as all this is, I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink and a very long nap."

Sky laughed, her dress swishing in the breeze. "I second that motion."

You looked around at the faces of those you loved most - Sky's bright smile, Jayce's easy grin, Viktor's intense gaze softened by wonder. For the first time in what felt like eons, you felt truly at peace.

"I think I can arrange that," you said with a wink, and with a wave of your hand, a cozy-looking cottage shimmered into existence nearby. It was nothing fancy - just a simple structure with a thatched roof and climbing roses around the door. But it radiated warmth and safety.

"Shall we?" you asked, gesturing towards the cottage.

As your little group made their way towards the house, Viktor began to trail behind. You matched his pace, watching as Jayce and Sky chatted animatedly ahead.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly. "About me?"

You linked your arm in his, resting your head on his shoulder. "More sure than I've ever been about anything," you replied. "We've been through hell and back, Viktor. We deserve some happiness together without the threat of death looming over us. You know, since we’re already dead."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As you walked, you noticed the grass beneath his feet sprouting tiny blue flowers - forget-me-nots. Had that been your doing or his? Either way, you couldn’t imagine forgetting even a second of your time with him.

Sky and Jayce entered the cottage, their laughter drifting back to you on the gentle breeze. As they disappeared inside, you pulled Viktor to a stop, your fingers curling around his wrist.

"Viktor, I…" The words caught in your throat, a supernova of emotion ready to burst from your chest. You bit your lip. How could mere language possibly encompass the depth of what you felt?

To hell with words, you thought. I'll show him instead.

You pulled Viktor close, your hands cupping his face as you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss. The contact sent shockwaves through you, ripples of energy cascading across your skin like the surface of a disturbed pond. Viktor stiffened for a moment, surprised, before melting into your kiss.

The grass beneath your feet erupted in a riot of wildflowers, their petals unfurling in rapid time-lapse. The sky above blazed with shooting stars and you tasted stardust on Viktor's lips, felt the heat of a thousand suns in the press of his body against yours.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, you found that your feet were no longer touching the ground. You and Viktor floated several inches above the flower-strewn grass, held by your magic as it glowed around you.

A smile tugged at his lips, boyish and carefree in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

"I love you," you whispered. "We made it, Viktor. We're here, together. Our friends are safe, and when the rest are ready, they will have a place here too."

In response, Viktor pulled you close again, resting his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, basking in his affection, in the simple miracle of his presence. The universe may have been vast and unknowable, but in that moment, your entire world was contained in the circle of Viktor's arms.

Lowering yourself, you made your way towards the cottage once more. Viktor entered first, but you paused at the doorway, looking back at the vast expanse of your creation. It felt surreal to be there, like a dream come true. In time, you’d figure out how to usher other souls to this place, to make it a true beacon of rest and safety. And maybe, just maybe, you could find the shards of Charlotte’s soul and piece her back together. Anything was possible when you had the power of infinite universes at your fingertips.

You stepped into the cottage, leaving the door open for Vander and Isha if they decided to make their way over, and were greeted by the smiling faces of your friends as they settled into the new space. Jayce, Sky, Viktor, and soon-to-be countless others are at your side. You knew in the depths of your never-ending soul, that this was where you were meant to be.

Epilogue

(Click on the picture for full resolution)

A/N: I can't believe its over!! It's crazy to think that its been three years since I posted the first part, and the entire time in between I was thinking and brainstorming about how I wanted it to end, only for Arcane to give us such a beautiful ending I couldn't bring myself to change much of it. But now they get to all be happy together in the afterlife for eternity, no more fighting or pain, just getting to be together in all the ways that matter ❤️

Thank you x1000000 for coming on this journey with me, its been a blast!! I'd love to hear what you think, even if you're reading this months or years later, I'm always looking for more inspiration to write more!

I may at some point post a very short epilogue so let me know if you still have any questions and I will try to provide answers. (Jinx isn't here because I think she's still alive)

Love you all!!!!

Spotify playlist

[ielectrica]

Twisted Wonderland Zombie Overblot AU

So I've been thinking about this for years now. Ever since 2021, a year after I had entered the fandom of Twisted Wonderland (which, by the way, saved me from my suicidal ideation and my deteriorating mental health back in 2020. But that's not the focus of this post, soooo....). And honestly, if Malleus couldn't fight OB!Grim until after he was fully healed or forced to fight him alongside the others when he isn't at full health, it's gonna fuck up the entire school, staff included! So, the plot summary is a bit messy on my end because it's written as a letter, but here it is!: "The catalyst of our desperate and demoralizing situation had only been the beginning when some kind of monster had transformed into a being worthy of a curse being plagued upon us.. Everyone and everything was slowly being destroyed one by one. It’s unnaturally bright blue eyes, it’s marred and patchy gray fur with claws almost like talons…

"It shook us all to the core. This monster just couldn’t be stopped.. How could something have become so powerful that not even the great Malleus Draconia could put an end to this fearsome beast? Not even its master could muster up enough power despite their leadership and gathering the best of magicians in order to face it. Even as I had written in fervent need to communicate this to someone, to anyone, the screaming and the fall of human, beastman, fish person…

"I didn’t know if we, the students of Night Raven College, could hold it together anymore. Nothing seemed to work on this hideous Overblot beast..

"Every magical spell, everything in the books that the teachers have taught us… This hopeless situation was just getting worse and worse… The sky turned gray, almost resembling the bottomless pit of dismay and despair. The clouds a murky, blackened hue of darkness, an abyss of seemingly never ending night…

"At this point, it was meaningless to focus on taking down the beast. Everyone had to run for cover, go back to their homelands to be with their families. But not everyone had the fortune or good luck to be back in loving arms.. Not all of us made it.

"Now seven years later, the resources like food and water have become scarce, people are resorting to inhumane means just to survive another dreadful day in this apocalypse. Nobody’s found a single thing that could lead to the cure yet and people are dying off more and more each and every day. This winter is a bitter, frigid cold that may be the end of Twisted Wonderland..."

The details that I have outlined and the updates:

Involves a battle between OB!Grim whom we see at the beginning and Malleus along with the other housewardens and the rest of the student body.

But what happens is that the accumulation of blot that comes from the usage of magic and the fact that Malleus isn't in tip top shape after he semi-recovers from his overblot (since he didn't get to fully recover), OB!Grim wipes the floor with them and basically creates these OB phantoms and shadows that act as zombies.

Non-magical humans could treat this as a normal zombie apocalypse and magical humans have to treat it as it is, being extra careful of their blot accumulation unless they want to overblot and turn into an OB zombie either by that or by being bitten, scratched, or attacked in some way by the OB zombies.

Because of Malleus's magic, the weather has morphed into black clouds in the sky so that the sun is nearly blocked out on Sage's Island.

So, the Fae (Malleus, Lilia, and the other Fae around the world, plus Briar Valley) are safe and immune from being turned into OB zombies via being attacked in any way. Although they still have to be careful with blot accumulation, they won't likely turn into zombies. Half-Fae are more likely to be infected by blot, but the Fae blood makes it so that it slows down the infection rate, making it so that they can save themselves. Silver, however, is not safe from this since he's a human. A Fae's blessing, however, does provide protection, albeit limited.

Adding more to this: Magic is much more primal and wild and in tune with nature again since most of what is left of technology has been wiped out thanks to Grim overblotting and destroying everything in his path. No, not even Malleus Draconia can stop Grim since that little bastard had to go and eat the last blot stone.

But thanks to magic being more primal and wild again like it was back in the time of the Middle Ages, the Old Gods (such as Altaria, the Goddess of Light, Healing and Resurrection. She is a human Goddess while Zakros is a Fae God and is the God of Destruction, Darkness, and War. Yes, EVEN SWORDS that were forged by the Fae have been named after them and yes, Silver wields Altaria while Sebek wields Zakros since those swords have selected them as being worthy to wield them) are being worshipped again.

The zombie apocalypse is what brings Fae, human, beastmen, merfolk, and all other intelligent species together, all united under one common cause. To rid the world of the zombie overblots and start the world anew.

What started it all was Grim eating Malleus's overblot stone and self-destructing since Malleus's overblot stone combined with the blot already in Grim's system accumulating and overflowing without an outlet to keep it steady, balanced, and stable. In order to get rid of the zombie overblots that are overwhelming the world, the Dorm Leaders and their families will have to join forces in order to beat down Grim and deplete his magical reserves. But I want some character arcs like character redemption arcs, changes that are somewhat in character. Things that'll really shake up their foundational roots and make them rethink the choices that were made up until now. For example: Lilia rethinks all of the choices that he made while in his youth due to him having magic again thanks to this amulet that the spirits of Meleanor and Revan helped him find. This is a second chance to make things right by them, Malleus, Silver, and by association, Sebek. So, he would go about it in a more strategic, calculated, and methodical way in order to make sure that his magical reserves won't get depleted this time. Yes, Yuu is suspicious in the eyes of the main cast since they were the last ones seen with Grim before they disappeared during his overblot.

It'll depend on the composition of their DNA, but Half-Fae have a possibility of getting infected, the same with many other intelligent species.

Please, please, please tell me what you think about this! Hell, you can even DM me about it so that I can organize some ideas for it!

[fallow-hollow]

Aaa! Your Kabru x reader was really nice! May I request a Holm x Reader where the reader helps him when he freezes up in rapid situations?

pick-me-up

…ft! holm kranom x gn! reader

…tags! pre-relationship, fluff, a little banter, reader knows some magic, some magic lore i may or may not have made up

…word count! 1167

…notes! people who are madly in love with side characters are truly god’s strongest soldiers. i hope i characterized your man correctly!!

As close as you and Holm were, neither of you really seemed to idealize one another too much. Being in the dungeon, you had to be aware of all your teammates’ strengths and flaws, regardless of personal opinion. When it came to the gnome you called your closest friend, even he didn’t deny it — he did not operate well under pressure.

Considering that you were in a place where foes could ambush you at any moment, anybody could see why this wasn’t a great quality to have. From being unable to save your friends to even being unable to save yourself, there were a lot of potential consequences to locking in place during the middle of combat. Something had to be done about it sooner rather than later, and if he had to ask someone, he’d rather it be you than anybody else.

The plan was formulated during some downtime the party had — something to stop Holm from going stock still whenever he felt overwhelmed. Luckily, your companion already had an idea for you.

“I figure the easiest way to deal with this’ll be using magic.”

You nodded. Not much of an obstacle, since you already had at least a few spells under your belt.

“As long as you have a rudimentary understanding of magic, it’s not gonna be too hard to get down.” For a moment, the gnome deliberated, wondering how to explain the concept to you. “You know how healing magic can hurt sometimes?”

With a grimace, you shook your head in understanding. Rin and Holm were pretty good about that sort of thing, but there had been more than a few occasions in past parties where healing and injury hurt even more than obtaining it. Seeing that you were familiar with what he was saying, the man continued.

“Well, that’s actually how healing magic is by default. When it doesn’t hurt, that’s because the caster is using a separate spell to numb your sensations.” As you listened, your mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape to show your interest. “Naturally, you can alter people’s sensations with magic in other ways, too.”

“Oh,” you would interject, “so I could use magic to make you more….focused?”

“Not quite, but yes.” At your approximation, he held up his index finger. “I was thinking you could use just a little bit of mana to sort of perk me up, almost like a spike of adrenaline to set me back in motion again.” His hand then lowered, turning over so his palm faced upward. “It’s pretty simple, just transferring mana through touch like you would with a healing spell.”

“I can do that, no problem!”

Ah, he was still looking at you, even after you said that… was there still more he wanted to share? When your eyes wandered down to the hand he held out, embarrassment that you hadn’t realized sooner quickly washed over you.

“Ah, you wanted to practice?” At first, you feared that your slow uptake had caused Holm some annoyance, but the relaxed smile on his face didn’t give way in the slightest. He seemed almost amused, really.

“Guess I should have been more clear about that, huh?”

The smirk on his face let you know that the question was most certainly rhetorical. Answering it would have been a moot point anyway, so instead you pouted and mumbled, “You’re always so snarky with me… not fair.”

Transferring mana was something you were fairly familiar with doing, so you were able to take the gnome’s hand into two of your own with little hesitation. Back when you’d just joined the party, the act of touching him made your cheeks heat up, but exposure to it over time had made the experience far from unfamiliar.

Just remember to envision the flow of the mana, you reminded yourself. Truly feel it, from your head to your toes, through your veins and bones, and out the tips of your fingers. Feel the current connecting you to him…

With your eyes trained on your joined hands, half lidded while you chanted the spell as instructed, you hardly noticed the way your companion’s ears actually twitched and perked up when the incantation was completed. Only when his whole body jolted did you shoot up in turn, concern pooling in your irises.

Said concern seemed to be unneeded, judging from the pleased look on his face. It was one that brought you relief, not just from the knowledge that you’d done well, but from the sight of him alone.

“That’s good, I think you’ve got it.” Even his voice seemed cheerier than before, and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the magic, your success, or both. Nonetheless, it was kind of nice to see his usually laid back demeanor become more enthusiastic from time to time. “So remember, the next time I get stunned in an overwhelming situation, use that if you’re near.”

“Of course!” You grinned, knowing you’d always be neat if you could help it.

That little practice session with Holm had been a few days ago by now. It took quite a while for a situation to actually arise that called for your little backup plan, but you most certainly kept your word.

Perhaps if it was just one stray suit of living armor, Rin or even Daya would’ve been able to dispatch it just fine. But in a whole hallway full of them with no way around, you could only tiptoe past them in hopes that maybe they’d ignore you, or even end up just being normal suits of armor. You should’ve known, of course, that the dungeon is no place for wishful thinking.

When the intimidating armored figures inevitably sprung to life, the first thing you did was look to Holm. Unsurprisingly, he was completely still by your side, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open while he didn’t even shake or quiver.

Just do what you talked about. Transfer the mana as quickly as you can. You may have taken the latter half of that a bit too seriously judging by how, instead of taking his hand like you had during practice, you immediately reached for his face instead.

Only halfway through chanting the spell did you notice the slight tint on his cheeks, likely from embarrassment, and it took everything you had in you to continue the spell without stuttering from your own flustered state. After all, restarting the spell would take even longer, and that was pretty much the exact opposite of what was needed right now.

The second the spell had been completed, the both of you pulled away from one another, invigorated by both magic and embarrassment respectively. You heard Holm utter a quick thanks to you, but you were too busy feeling completely mortified by the way Kabru had just glanced at the two of you, seemingly more entranced by your interaction than the imminent peril you were dealing with.

You’d never hear the end of this, would you?

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton is hiking in the forest when he accidentally walks in a bear trap. Their ankle is clearly broken, but there's no phone signal and no one to help them. How do they get out of there?

Undertale Sans - He's taking deep breaths, trying to stay calm. He immobilizes his leg with blue magic so it hurts less, and then he slowly tries to open the bear trap. It hurts like hell, and everytime he manages to open it a little, he has to let go which hurts himself more. He decides to tear the trap from the floor, then focus the best he can to teleport to Toriel's place, as it's the closest. He falls in the couch in a scream of agony and has to bite the pillow to not pass out. Toriel is quite horrified, but thank god she's a healer and he's finally allowed to pass out in her arms now that she is handling things.

Undertale Papyrus - He stays calm despite his mind screaming that it hurts, and concentrates to glitch his legs out of the trap. Turns out that the trap is not holding his ankle in place anymore and now it's hurting even more. Papyrus uses his magic to stabilize the bone the best he can, then uses some wood pieces to keep it straight. He then limps all the way back home despite the agonizing pain, collapsing the second he has a phone signal to call the rescuers. Everyone is impressed he managed to walk this long like this.

Underswap Sans - He hisses in pain, trying to open the bear trap. He's strong enough to do it by himself, but the fracture is too bad to work. Blue drags his body towards the city, crawling on the floor, hoping his phone will find a signal so he can call someone for help. It takes him two days to get there, but he's getting there. Everyone was worried about him, but Blue simply shook it off like it's nothing once someone came to heal him.

Underswap Papyrus - He's not getting out of here by himself, lol. First, he passes out from pain. Then he wakes up, looks at his broken ankle, can't take the sight, and passes out again, lol. He simply lies there, crying and whining, until Blue gets too worried and sends a helicopter to find him. He's so relieved when he sees the rescuers. Give him painkillers. He's begging you.

Underfell Sans - After trashing around for a solid ten minutes and making his injury a lot worse, Red finally remembers he has magic and uses it to break the trap in half. But now his leg is such in a bad shape he can't use it anymore. He's still going to try though. He uses a tree branch to stand up, being careful to not put weight on his injured leg, and he bounces towards the city little by little, cursing that forest for the next thirty generations. Edge is worried after he doesn't come home and finds him soon after, carrying him home as Red passes out in his arms, exhausted. Hell, he's not waking up before three days.

Underfell Papyrus - Stupid stubborn idiot acts like it's nothing, breaks the trap, and walks home, in agonizing pain at every step, but refusing to call for help. He collapses on his couch, doesn't tell anyone he has a fracture, and just goes to sleep, hoping the pain will stop magically. Guess what, it didn't. Now he has an aggravated fracture, a fever and he can't stand up at all. Great job. Red won't stop calling him an idiot after he finds him half dead on the couch, still pretending he's fine. Edge is actually even mad Red forces him to go to the hospital.

Horrortale Sans - Welp. Not his first time. Still not a good experience. Oak sighs and uses his strength to open the trap. He then simply walks on three limbs back home to show Willow what he did. Willow is not even surprised, and that's probably worrying it doesn't seem weird.

Horrortale Papyrus - He fell on his back because of the surprise pain and he's now completely paralyzed. Luckily, Oak knows it's not normal he's not back home and goes to fetch him, using his extraordinary sense of smell to find him. Oak simply makes him levitate with his magic, the trap still lock on his ankle and he's bringing him straight to Toriel for help. Oak is a bit stressed and tired after that, but that's fine, as his quick thinking literally saved his brother's back.

Swapfell Sans - He tries to stay calm and tells himself he went through way worse than that. It still hurts, but feeling pain means you're still alive so that could be worse. Nox tears the trap from the ground and then uses a bone to open it. Thankfully, he's experienced enough in healing to stabilize his leg with magic and prevent it from hurting too much. He then limps out of the forest, telling himself that he's fine and not dying until he reaches a zone where he can call an ambulance. He then sits on a rock and waits patiently, focusing on his breathing. He's still glad when the rescuers come to take him away.

Swapfell Papyrus - He whimpers and whines, slowly panicking as he realizes he doesn't have enough strength to open the trap. Rus tries to keep his mind clear, but after an hour, he's just crying on the floor, certain he's going to die here all alone and that no one will find him. That's actually because he's so loud and dramatic that a couple of hikers find him a few minutes later. Rus clings to them, so relieved, as they help to break the trap and immobilize his legs. They even have painkillers. As a helicopter comes to rescue him, Rus might have call one of them Mommy lol. He can't think too straight with the drugs.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He screams in rage, tears the trap open, throws it far away, and blasts it. That doesn't help his leg to stop hurting, but that helps him to calm down a little. He's so pissed off. That's not a good time to break a leg! He bandages his leg and comes home to heal it properly, limping miserably. If a monster or a human dares to stare at him a little too much, he's throwing bones angrily. The hell you're looking at? That's not because he's on one leg that he can't defend himself anymore.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - That's ok. If he's not looking, surely the pain will disappear and he will be alright. ... It's still hurting though. Why did he leave his room again? What if he dies here? What if a bear comes and eats him? What if he dusts him and no one finds his dust? Coffee starts to hyperventilate, and doing so, instinctively teleports in his closet to comfort himself. As he keeps telling himself he's going to die, he looks around him and... Oh. He's home. Still with the beartrap though. Coffee screams his brother's name like he's getting murdered, which for sure convinces Wine to act fast.

[saintsenara]

do you go with word of god about how tom would have been better off if merope lived and raised him or that it would have been even worse for him and merope would have become infatuated because of his resemblance to tom riddle sr? (Similar to how part of the fandom believes snape would be if harry resembled lily lmao) which of do you think its more interesting route?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i go for the first of the two options - that merope living would have been so much better for wee tom riddle jr. - not because it's what jkr says, but because i tend to loathe any interpretation of merope's character which undermines the fact that so much of her life could have been changed at numerous crucial moments by anyone connected to the wizarding state giving a fuck.

merope is a teenage girl who lives in abject poverty, has a treatable medical condition [exotropia - eyes which stare in different directions] for which she clearly hasn't received any medical care, is denied an education, is subjected to physical violence by her father right there on the canon page, and is implied in canon to be subjected to incestuous sexual violence by her father and/or brother. the state has numerous opportunities to remove her from this experience - when marvolo fails to respond to her hogwarts letter, when bob ogden visits the gaunts - and yet doesn't, and while i don't think that just being taken away from morfin and marvolo would have solved everything, it would have given her the safety to start healing...

i get why the idea of merope as this sinister, unhinged, devouring, unchangeable bundle of malevolence, who would destroy her own son by becoming infatuated with him, is compelling when the genre demands it to be - i've written her as a folk-horror villain myself, and she was perfect for the role - but in fics which aren't intentionally going for that sort of supernatural, dark fairytale, horror-story vibe... i don't think it hits.

merope's great tragedy - much like her son's - is that she is someone capable of and longing for a normal life, but who is denied this by the corrosive forces of grief, poverty, abuse, and indifference and who goes on to perpetuate harm in turn.

as i've said elsewhere, her rape [and we should call it what it is] of tom riddle sr. doesn't actually need to have any undercurrent of sadistic, unhinged infatuation to be both morally abhorrent and canon-coherent - her treatment at her father and brother's hands would hardly have given her an understanding of consent or bodily autonomy [and might also have made her believe that drugging a man until you can totally control him is the only way to prevent him hurting you], while the fact that the state just leaves her on her own after marvolo and morfin are arrested [with - presumably - no income to speak of] means that she can be understood as seeing tom sr. as her only escape from sliding ever further down the ladder of destitution.

does that mean that she didn't also - selfishly - desire tom sr.? absolutely not. it just means that i find it much more interesting when the idea of her wanting him for herself is given equal weight with all the other things in her life which shape her character - and that i also find it much more interesting when these forces are recognised as commonplace, human, and having pretty much nothing to do with magic.

[the state would not - after all - have had to raise a wand in order to unravel the abuse to which she is subjected... since it does this all the time in the real world - and i am definitely a sucker for stories which acknowledge that the greatest flaws in the wizarding world don't depend in the slightest on magic, but on human corruption.]

if she'd survived childbirth - while i'm certainly not suggesting that i think she'd have been a flawless mother, nor that the absence of a wizarding welfare state wouldn't have made their lives incredibly difficult - i think it's legitimately implausible to suggest that she'd have done anything other than love her son as her son [so, without any incestuous vibe].

[her comment - "i hope he looks like his papa" - is, i think, meant as mrs cole takes it - that she recognises that she's someone who isn't conventionally attractive by any means, and that she knows that tom riddle sr. is.]

[yellowmagicalgirl]

hot day in summer (hot iron touching skin)

Douxie takes his shirt off in front of his boyfriend and accidentally reveals a scar.

CW: references to historical branding and anti-Romani sentiments

AO3

FFN

Krel didn't understand why Douxie refused to use magic or technology instead of physical labor. Why work harder when they could work smarter? They didn't have to drag this table up the stairs to Douxie's apartment. They could have used Krel's wormhole generator. Alternatively, Douxie had already known about this table for a few days. It wouldn't have taken that much more time for Claire to use a shadow portal to transport the table to the apartment before she, Nari, and Archie set out on their quest to leave a few red herrings across South America and Europe.

The air conditioning wasn't working in the halls of Douxie's apartment building, either, which meant that Krel was sweating. He was spending way too much time in his human transduction to be producing this many fluids. Maybe if he drank less water, he wouldn't sweat this much.

Or maybe he'd get another stern talking to from Coach Lawrence and Principal Uhl for fainting from dehydration and lack of sleep. Again. Stupid human bodies.

"Please tell me the air conditioning works in your apartment," Krel said as he readjusted his grip so the table wouldn't slip out of his sweaty hands.

"It's out for the whole building," Douxie replied. "I'll turn the fan on when we get inside."

"Why don't you run the fan all the time in this heat?"

"And spend that much on electricity?"

Krel fought the urge to let go of the table and smack his forehead. Right now would be a great time to have four arms so he could facepalm without dropping the table. He was stronger in his Akiridion form, anyways, but no one wanted any random New Yorkers to learn the truth about space. "Zoe is your best friend. I'm a tech genius. We could easily build you a near-perpetual generator!"

"Near-perpetual?"

"I still can't fully reverse the second law of thermodynamics. Entropy will one day come for all of us."

Well, maybe not for Bellroc, not unless Skrael turned on them.

Maybe Douxie sensed the change in Krel's mood. Maybe he had merely come to his senses after all this unneeded hard labor. Douxie used his magic to unlock the door. The two of them set it down just inside the entryway of Douxie's apartment. As Krel closed and locked the door, Douxie took off his shirt.

Maybe all this hard labor hadn't been a bad thing. Maybe Krel could be grateful to the heat. Maybe -

Krel's blood ran cold. "Who did this to you?"

There was a brand on Douxie's chest in the shape of an angry, red V. Based on how much the burn had healed, it couldn't have been more than a few weeks ago. How hadn't Krel noticed it before? Why hadn't Douxie said anything?

Why hadn't Archie and Nari said anything?

Who did Krel need to hurt?

"Did wha-" Douxie followed Krel's gaze down to the brand. "Oh. That. Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks."

"Someone branded you."

"Yes. It was about five-hundred years ago, though. One of the King Edwards passed a law against vagabonds. I'm still not sure why I was targeted and not the other poor people of the town - maybe I look too much like my mum? She was Romani, and considering the wording of the law..."

"It doesn't even look five weeks old, much less five centuries."

"That I get from my da. He was part fairy. The brand was made of iron, so it didn't heal correctly. I normally use magic or makeup to make the brand disappear when I take my shirt off; I forgot to today. Sorry for worrying you. Now, let's get this table in the dining area."

You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry for bringing it up, Krel wanted to say, but he could tell that Douxie wanted to drop the subject. "Can we please use magic to finish the job?"

~

Author's Note: Edward VI established the Statute of Vagabonds in 1547. If you were a vagabond or Romani, you were supposed to have been branded with a large V on the chest under this law. Vagabonds also could've been enslaved for two years, although historians were unsure whether this law was actually enforced due to the impracticality of implementing it, and the law was repealed three years later.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi, I'm writing a book with a lot of characters who have facial differences for various reasons, and there are two I was hoping to ask you about because I'm afraid they may be too trope-y due to how they are when the reader meets them.

One is a girl who had a traumatic injury as a baby that caused the forced removal of around half of her face, including the skull, meaning she's missing one eye, around a third of her jaw, one cheekbone- the scar goes from right next to her nose back to just in front of her right ear, up to just a touch above her hairline (where her face meets the crown of her head) to halfway down her neck, as if someone took a upward swing at her head with some kind of blade. This girl has a magical healing ability, which is how she survived the injury, and has received a few surgeries years after the fact to try and give her face a more normal shape, but cosmetics aren't something she's extremely interested in. It's her face and she's pretty used to it, she likes it, and if people want to freak out at the sight of her scar then that's on them and she'll laugh. Still, when the reader first meets her, she is covering her face, though not because of her facial difference. She has a noticeably nonhuman skin tone, indigo, that marks her as someone with strong magic and thus puts her in a lot of danger, so she covers her skin to keep people from trying to kill her. This mask also includes a kind of plastic face shield under the cloth part that gives her face a slightly more normal shape. She ditches both pretty quickly once she's in a safe situation where she won't be killed over her skin colour, but I'm still really worried she falls into the mask trope.

The other character has Williams Syndrome, a scar from a clef lip, a major scar that covers around 70% of her body, including part of her face, and her pupils are kind of foggy from her glaucoma, eyes not usually focusing which makes it kind of obvious she's nearly completely blind (retinopathy of prematurity and recurring glaucoma.) The thing about her is that, when she reader first meets her, she's used her shapeshifting to hide most of her facial difference (all except the features from her Williams Syndrome) because there's an emergency going on and she would rather not be interrogated about her face while trying to save someone's life. She loses control of her shapeshifting and goes back to her normal form, with her scars and all of that, while extremely angry at someone, which does shock the two people in the room who don't see her day-to-day and who don't know that this is what she usually looks like. As far as this character is concerned, her scars are something she takes pride in. Her Williams Syndrome is a fact of her life, as is her blindness, her cleft lip scar has been there for as long as she can remember, it's as unremarkable to her as her eyebrows, and the big scar is from the time she fought what was basically a god a few years back and won, and she takes pride in that one. She usually doesn't shapeshift this stuff away (other than changing her eyes just a bit, just enough to make it so that she isn't obviously blind because that puts a target on her back,) because she doesn't see a point in it.

There are several other characters with facial differences, both congenital and from injuries, including the main character who has Williams Syndrome, I just want to know if there's anything I need to change about these two. Thank you

Hi!

First things first - great to see you have multiple characters with FD! That makes a lot of difference for tropes. Even better to hear that they're diverse among themselves! Love to see that.

For the first character, it sounds fine! She doesn't use it for her scarring - I enjoy that you make it clear - and doesn't wear it all the time, or even the majority of it. If you want to be very safe, you can have a character who is also indigo and hides it, but without a facial difference - could be referenced only in passing, or even just a mention that it was a some other, FD-less character in the same situation as her that gave her the idea on how to hide it. But again, it sounds good - I think of it in the same way as a character with FD who is a knight or a surgeon who covers their face when necessary because that's what needed at the moment.

The second one is a bit more complicated but it's okay as well! First thing I thought of is to make sure what type (open, closed, congenital, etc.) of glaucoma she has, as not all of them change the outward appearance of the eye! Just something to keep in mind to not accidentally mix the congenital appearance with open-angle onset. But back to the question. It's nice that when she transforms she still keeps some of her disability's features! As for the "hiding" I think it can be okay if done occasionally/not constantly, and especially if it's actually somewhat addressed in the story - with how, for example, people pay way too much attention to people with FDs and that can be awkward and uncomfortable. Of course it doesn't have to be said like that, but the sentiment is real for a ton of visibly disabled people - sometimes you just want others to stop staring and mind their business. That's real. Just pay attention to not make it seem like it's the disability's fault, but it doesn't seem like you need that remainder. For the "reveal", this is the slightly complicated part. It's not bad, but I would just advise you to use words carefully. I would consider it an interesting scenario that could be possibly written in a pejorative way. Make sure to put the shock on the change in her appearance, not the fact that it's a scar (or, if that is what the other characters focus on, narrate it in a way that shows it's a reaction that this specific person has, not a reasonable reaction to that information). Having someone you know shape-shift into someone else in front of you is the horrifying part, not the fact that they have a scar! Last thing, in regard to her shapeshifting her eyes' appearance - most people are extremely bad at telling when someone is blind. I suppose that it depends on the culture and knowledge of the environment she's in, but just something to keep in mind.

I will admit that I was rather nitpicky in this answer because I still wanted to give some suggestions and input, and there just isn't anything major to critique. In most questions I get about FD there are usually many glaring issues that I try to help with, but your story... doesn't really have those. You seem to be careful and cautious in your writing of characters with facial differences and I appreciate this a lot! Consider my answer a suggestion on how to expand on your characters or story, not "fix" them.

I'm very pleasantly surprised and I hope I get to read more things like this! :) (smile emoji)

Mod Sasza

[ink-flavored]

Anthology Blast Prompt 10: Surprise Guest

for the Athendroyln After Dark Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: magical disease, awkward conversations

The sun shimmered through the half-open curtains and onto Morgan’s sleeping face. He wrinkled his freckled nose as the light drew him from his slumber. He didn’t know what time it was yet, but he knew it was too early.

Though the daylight started the work, his body finished it. After a minute of burying his face in the pillow again, Morgan resigned himself to being awake. He rolled onto his back and stretched, cracking his blurry eyes open to the waking world. His thin pajamas rubbed over a sore spot.

He winced, reaching down to adjust the fabric away from directly touching his crotch. He’d been out most of the afternoon with his bed-friend, and they may have gotten a little overzealous. Thaira had been excited to incorporate magic to their scenes, and it was one of the most intense things they’d ever done—not that he was complaining. It was a great night, and he even made it home in time for dinner.

Morgan rolled over to face his wife, Violet, still asleep in their bed. He’d left the house in the first place to give her privacy with her bed-friend, so really, it all worked out. He brushed her straw-blonde, messy hair out of her face. She didn’t so much as twitch. Their “activities” must have been intense, too. He made a mental note to ask her about it.

His body submitted a note for him to get up and go to the bathroom. Morgan took a moment to pout about having to leave the warmth of the blankets, but scooted out from under them eventually. The edge of the mattress sank under his weight where he sat, plucking his glasses off the nightstand. The world came into focus, and so did an annoying ache across his backside.

Morgan grunted to his feet and shuffled across the carpet. The sore feeling spread into more unfortunate places, twinging with every step. He was itchy, too, like someone had dumped a bunch of sand into his pants. He grimaced, but brushed it out of his mind. It was nothing a pain killer couldn’t fix, and if he really had to, he’d call Thaira and ask for a healing spell.

The bathroom tile was a cool shock to his bare feet. Morgan shivered, kicking the door shut lightly and blinding himself by flicking the light on. Squinting through the glare, he lifted the toilet seat, gingerly tugged his waistband down…

And screamed.

Several loud thumps came from the other room. Violet burst through the bathroom door, eyes wide and frantic. “What’s wrong, what happened?” she blurted, gravelly voice the only evidence she’d been asleep mere seconds ago.

Morgan couldn’t respond. He stood aghast, dick in his hand, but it looked frighteningly different than the last time he’d seen it. The normally peachy skin was green—then blue, purple, cycling through a dozen colors. It covered his entire crotch, crossing to the inside of his thighs, lighting him up like an art project. What was worse, it itched and burned like a rash, not that he was lucid enough to scratch at it. Every so often, runes would fade onto the spectrum in bright white, then burst into sparkles.

Violet followed his gaze and gasped. “Oh—my Gods, what is that?” she asked.

“What the fuck?” he croaked. “What the fuck is this?”

She guided him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Stay here, hon, I’ll call Thaira.”

Violet bolted out of the room as quick as she’d entered it, leaving Morgan alone with his… situation. He couldn’t take his eyes off the shifting rainbow, a strange mix of mesmerized and horrified.

A few more runes burst along his shaft. It took a second for him to process the shapes in his brain, but they looked eerily familiar. Like the ones Thaira had drawn on him the previous day. His stomach dropped—was this some kind of magic STD? Did he catch something contagious? Was Thaira infected too, or had he passed in on to her when they did their scene? Morgan had so many questions, and exactly zero answers.

His bladder didn’t seem to understand the severity of the situation. He rolled his eyes and stood up again. If he was going to panic, he didn’t want to piss himself. He took care of his business and winced the whole time—it burned.

Morgan washed his hands twice before plopping back down on the edge of the tub. This was definitely some kind of magical infection, right? Could magic do that? He regretted not doing more research before agreeing to Thaira’s suggestions. He was just so excited—and she was a certified wizard and everything!

“—glad I didn’t wake you up or anything,” Violet’s voice said, outside the bathroom but quickly approaching. “I think we would have gone to the ER next, honestly, I have no idea what’s going on.”

She returned with her phone pressed up against her ear and the entire first-aid kid in hand. Morgan’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. Was it that bad?

“Sure, sure, he’s right here. I’ll put you on speaker.” Violet sat down next to him and held her phone between them.

“Hey, Morgan,” Thaira said, accompanied by the greeting hisses of her head full of snakes. “I’m told you had a bit of a surprise this morning?”

“Hi,” he said. “Yes, although surprise is an understatement.”

“What’s going on?”

“Well. A rainbow?”

“A rainbow.”

“Yeah, on my crotch region. And it’s itchy, and runes keep appearing? I’m sore, but that might be unrelated.”

“Hmm. Can you send me a picture or video or…?”

“Yeah, we can turn on the video call or something, right?”

Violet nodded and tapped the button for a video call. Thaira appeared a second later, chin-length hair of western hognoses and sandy-brown face contorted with concern. It was one of the few times either of them ever got to see her eyes—slit-pupiled and bright yellow—since her paralysis didn’t work through a camera. It made blindfolded scenes way more exciting, but was likely a part of Morgan’s problem. He took the phone from Violet.

“Here’s what I woke up to,” he said, and tilted the front-facing camera down. He left it there for a few seconds, the itchy rainbow cycling through several full spectrums and a few runes.

“Yep, that’s what I thought,” Thaira concluded, without any degree of severity. “You’ve got enchanter’s burn.”

“Enchanter’s burn,” he repeated. He tilted the phone back up and found her completely casual.

“Is it serious?” Violet asked.

“Nah, it happens all the time. It’s a normal reaction from your skin coming into close contact with runes for too long.”

Violet raised a brow at him, but Morgan didn’t have time to explain his kinks at the moment. “So what do I do about it, then? Is it contagious, is this a—a sex thing?”

Thaira laughed, snake hair hissing along with her. “It’s not just a sex thing, and it’s not contagious. It happened to basically everyone in my freshman class for rune mechanics, just because we were around them all the time. Just slap a little magic suppressant cream on it and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh.” That didn’t sound too bad. He glanced at Violet, who was already rummaging around in the first-aid kit. “Anything else we should know about it?”

“Uhh, let’s see.” She counted on her fingers. “Some people call it ‘creeping runes’ but it’s the same thing. Try not to scratch, if you can help it, the runes might spread to your fingers. Don’t get any other runes close to your skin until it’s fully healed.”

He nodded. “Easy enough.”

“Which means we won’t be doing that type of scene for a little while.”

It made sense, but he was still disappointed. “Probably for the best.”

“If I think of anything else, I’ll text you.”

“Alright, thanks Thaira.”

She waved, and her snakes wiggled. “Bye-bye!”

Morgan ended the call and handed the phone back to Violet. She snapped the first-aid kit shut and took it back.

“Well, I guess we’re going to the drug store,” she said. “No magic suppressing anything in there.”

“To be fair,” he replied, “we’ve never needed it.”

“Guess we should keep it stocked now, huh?”

“Probably, yeah.” Morgan sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

Violet put an arm around his shoulders. “Hey, it’s not so bad. Like Thaira said, it’s not serious, and now we know what it is. It’s not even in a huge spot.” She glanced down, trying to smile. “It’s in an unfortunate spot, but, you know.”

Wordlessly, Morgan stood up. He shuffled his pajama pants the rest of the way down, exposing his ass to the world. He didn’t need a mirror to know why Violet sucked in a harsh breath.

“Okay. A slightly larger area.” She leaned around his hips. “What did you even do yesterday?”

Morgan stared mournfully up at the ceiling. “I’ll tell you later.”

--

Events Taglist: @foxys-fantasy-tales @thelaughingstag @ceph-the-ghost-writer @auntdarth @srjacksin @alesseia @monstrify

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[lagncx]

Ch 1 ghosts of past

It was an invasion in the camp as soon as everyone was ready to rest. They've been caught off guard.

Astarion looked at his friends Gale ,Tav , and Shadowheart, hells even La'zel was on the ground. Where were the others? By now Astarion would've had a flaming arrow explode the fuckers, but something was wrong. Familiar and soon he realized what made his stomach turn, Vampire spawn. Some new faces some familiar. Tav pulled themselves up their great sword in hand as they shook off the wobbliness "Run Astarion! They want you not us. they won't have you." Tav spit a wad of blood on one of the spawn's shoes that charged at them with a mace. "They won't take you; we won't let them." Gale held his shoulder seething casting a magic missle on the spawn that was feasting on him. Why did Astarion feel so sick? So paralyzed. No, he can't let his freinds do all the dirt for him Astarion shot a bow of thunder at the spawn that had already taken a bite of Lazel and when she recomposed herself, she slashed at the enemies.

Everyone was giving it their all, but Astarion noticed Shadowheart was still very hurt he rushed over to her side "What is it? where are you hurt?" He turned shadowheart on her side looking for a wound seeing a bite on her neck for sure a vampire, but it wasn't normal. Almost like a vampire with three sets of fangs. Astarion laid a hand on it and started to heal her, but he felt the hairs on his neck stand a chill his ears twitched something was coming right towards him. Before he could react, he felt his cape pulled launching him back into the chest of someone and pushed right back agaisnt a rock his jaw hitting it making his eyes water and teeth vibrate. The person leaned against him lips next to his ear "This cape suits you, little star" Astarion let out a pained sob when the stranger pushed him harder into the rock "You've strayed too far away from the nest. Now Cazador wants you home. His runaway pet~" Astarion pulled his hands away and kicked the stomach of the person sending them back pulling a dagger out of his shoe "Tell Cazador. To Fuck! Off! I'm not going back. Unless it's to Slaughter him, I'll die before I go back!" The person stood laughing pulling off the cloak the campfire showing their features and it was like the world slowed and closed around Astarion his breathing uneven and he lowered his dagger "Killing you, would be my honor. But it will have to wait." Astarion gasped "y-y/n?" He shook his head It was you; you were the same even after a century just pale and cold. But you're supposed to be dead...actually dead left in a ditch after being feasted on by Cazador but here you are, The gorgeous monk from that night. He was in a daze his mind racing with questions and his throat was in pain growing a lump in the back his eyes watering. You grabbed him by the throat bringing him back to reality throwing him on the ground knocking the wind out of him his body him wheezing trying to take in a breath your knee pushing on his stomach your hand squeezing his throat hearing him yell when your nails dug into his skin. "Ive waited so long to have you here, crush your pretty throat where you regurgitate those loving meaningless words and rip out that damn vile tonuge of yours. i want you fucking dead...but lucky for you Cazador wants you alive. Seems ill have to wait." You said through gritted teeth You raised your right fist ready to knock him out but you got sent to his side with a punch, Astarion felt an arm pull him up for only a second, Karlach pushed Astarion behind her as she looked at you your jaw hanging out of place drool falling on the dirt but you just touched it pushing it into place your cheek was marked in the shape of Karlachs fist it was smoking the burn was intense but you just stood up un bothered "Keep your fucking hands off my freinds! Unless you want another sizzle on your cheek to take home with you!" Karlach yelled obviously raging and breathing heavy "Back off or ill tear you to pieces." Karlach warned. Astarion watched the way you smiled your fangs shining

You had three fangs they looked out of place but that wasn't important. Astarion whispered too himself "They should be dead..." Karlach looked back at him "You know them??" He stayed silent. Karlach turned to him "Astarion answer me-" In a flash you had Karlach impaled on a tree a branch through her leg she screamed your hands holding her down, but she was flaming how were you so calm your hands were being roasted skin dissolving away muscles exposed and it bubbled like gales boiling soup flesh popping and you kept a straight face looking over her your eyes glowed an orange "Hm, Karlach how much time do you have left? That infernal machinery seems like it won't last long." Karlach struggled "How do you know that?!" She was cut off when you pushed the branch with your leg the bark tearing into Karlachs muscle making her sob. "Has star told you about me? No? hm, and here I thought I was special"

Tav had cast a sunbeam with the blood of lathander a young spawn was the target so blood-hungry he neglected his surroundings being caught in the beam making him scream and the other spawn called for you "Y/N!" Your head turned to the scream seeing the boy shielding himself best he could "Help!" Some spawn tried grabbing him the pain being too much their fingers smoking. You hurried over to La'zel dragging you back "Tsk! No you don't!"you spun yourself punching her with multiple blows making her fall on her ass before misty stepping to the boy pulling him out of the beam with no harm done to you. Astarion and everyone watched in horror "The hells?!" Said shadowheart How could you go in the light unharmed, it was supposed to be impossible. You handed the young boy over to the archer spawn who thanked you before facing the group in front of you being immediately met with a blade to your throat by Wyll "Don't move." He warned blade against your jaw you just laughed "Oh come on don't embarrass yourself you're not stronger than me" you laughed looking back at the spawn who stood far behind "Told master not to have them with me...they weren't ready, but he insisted." You sighed "Just hand over the snake and I'll be on my way." Gale scoffed "Hes not going anywhere with you!" Tav stepped up "If you touch him on my life ill fuck you up!" Wyll looked at you stepping back lowering his blade "Enjoy your breaths while you can still take them...leave!" Astarion helped karlach off the tree the best he could without being burned seeing the protective arch his freinds made and the way Halsin in his bear form stood in front of Astarion big and fuzzy foaming at the mouth ready to swallow you whole he felt himself grateful that he ran into these people and for only a second he smiled but he felt deep down begging you to leave not to get yourself hurt even more. But Wyll looked at Tav who nodded and used concentrated blast to blast you into a tree you falling face first into a rock knocking you unconscious.

----------------------

Yippie yippie yippie so i have more its ready to be posted but please be patient i have to type it all out again...so yea i love you all so much thank you and this is what i was scared to post

@beepersteeper @chaoticgoodstuff and others who were supposed to be waiting for this im so sorry i hope this finds you. sorry it isnt fancy with font and theme dividers. im not a writer - Lagncx

[brideofbriar]

Kyuubi "Yumna" Kitsunezaki

The Grandfather clock stood grandly at the end of her room, reading 11:59. In a few hours, she would awake but not yet. She laid there curled on herself, her breathing gentle. She was completely unaware of the world around her and what the Fates wove into her future. A crow sat on the window sill, its yellow eyes glowing, watching her curiously as she slept. Suddenly, the clouds parted, revealing the moon in all its glory. The bell tolled with all its might, welcoming midnight. Yet her slumber remained undisturbed.

🕯️ Home:: ???

🕯️ Species:: Zenko (good kitsune)

🕯️ VA:: Yuuki Takada (Tingyun's jp va)

🕯️ Height:: 178 cm

🕯️ Birthday:: September 30th

🕯️ Age:: 16 going on 17 (current age), 283 (total age)

🕯️ Dominant hand:: Right

🕯️ Hobbies:: Photography

🕯️ Likes:: Music, fashion and hanging out with friends

🕯️ Dislikes:: "Psychopaths", the color orange and ants

🕯️ Favorite food:: Spicy chicken tenders

🕯️ Least favorite food:: Seafood

🕯️ Floyd's nickname:: Foxfish (Kitsunezaru-chan)

🕯️ Rook's nickname:: Dame renard épicée (Spicy fox lady)

🕯️ Personality:: She can appear intimidating at first, but once you know her for even a millisecond, she reveals herself to be a friendly yet mischievous character. She is very protective over those she calls friends, as she didn't have many of those back home. Despite her amnesia, she still carries on traits of her fellow kitsune, even if she is unaware of being one. It is hard for her to properly hate someone as she is open-minded and understanding and believes in second chances yet she only harbors true resentment towards those who purposefully harm others for "selfish" reasons (Azul, Jamil and Rollo) and those who neglect things until they go wrong and refuse to learn from their mistakes (Crowley).

🕯️ Appearance:: She has slightly tanned skin with several moles scattered all over her body and her build is tall. Her hair is a warm chestnut brown with hime bangs that frame her thin face with a simple light brown streaks, her hair straight and reaching to her lower-back. Her eyes are slanted, her irises a great blazing amber that fade to red with slit pupils. She wears a frilled collared white blouse with baggy sleeves along with a light beige vest and a black choker. For the bottom, she wears a black skirt with gold stripes at the sides and black heels.

Trivia::

🕯️ She is the only member of the photography club and is the one who pictured all the cards and their groovies

🕯️ She is inspired by Tingyun/Fugue

🕯️ Her and Malleus are soulmates

🕯️ Vil reminds her of her older sister

🕯️ If she was sorted into a dorm, it would be either Savanaclaw or Diasomnia

🕯️ In her beta design, she had maroon hair, dark skin and was a nbc student

🕯️ Her real name is Kyuubi but she goes by the name Grim gave her, Yumna

🕯️ Her scent makes people either follow, trust or obey her, but its faint, making the effect overcomeable

🕯️ In her kitsune form she has three tails that are the same color as the streak in her hair and red markings

🕯️ She awakens her true form and regains her memories after an accident that occurs after Grim's overblot

🕯️ As a Zenko, she has active magic but it can only be triggered when she's highly distressed and she has passive magic that occurs on its own as a part of being a Kitsune

🕯️ Her active magic is possession, generating fire or lightning, flight, invisibility, creating illusions, bend time and space, drive people mad, and take incomprehensible shapes but she can never summon it by will

🕯️ Her passive magic is her immortality, increased speed and intelligence, hypnotic smell, manifestation in dreams and faster natural healing

🕯️ Her active magic can only be summoned when her will is broken, she is near death and there are no living beings around

🕯 Her passive magic is incredibly weak in comparison with one-tailed kitsunes

🕯 She isn't immortal like other kitsunes, but had the regular life span of a mortal yet reincarnates everytime she dies and everytime reincarnates she forgets everything from her last life until she turns 16

🕯 She had an older sister and younger brother who both died by being hunted down by humans

[skogenraev]

Getting Back into Witchcraft After a Break

Acknowledge the Break

Before jumping back in, take a moment to reflect on why you stepped away. This isn’t about judgment but understanding.

Were you overwhelmed or burned out?

Did life demand more of your time and energy?

Were you questioning your beliefs or struggling with doubt? → Write in your journal or meditate or draw how your time away has shaped you. This can help you clarify what you want to bring back into your practice and what you’re ready to let go of.

Start with Self-Compassion Your craft doesn’t require perfection. You’re not “behind” or “out of touch.” The beauty of witchcraft is its adaptability. Be kind to yourself and resist the urge to compare your journey to others’. Recognize that even mundane experiences can be a form of magic. Reconnect with Your Why

Ask yourself what drew you to witchcraft in the first place.

Was it a love of nature?

A connection to something greater?

A desire for empowerment, healing, or self-discovery?

Rekindling your “why” can reignite your passion and help you determine what aspects of the craft to focus on first.

Start Small and Simple

Don’t overwhelm yourself by trying to do all the things right away. Start with bite-sized practices:

Daily grounding: Take a few deep breaths while visualizing roots connecting you to the earth.

Light a candle: Focus on the flame as a symbol of your rekindled practice.

Morning or evening affirmations: Speak simple, empowering phrases to set your intentions for the day or night.

Observe the natural world: Notice the moon’s phase, the weather, or seasonal changes.

Small acts of magic build momentum over time.

Reassess Your Tools and Space

If you have a magical space, tools, or supplies, take stock:

Cleanse your tools: Use smoke, sound, or sunlight to refresh them.

Declutter: Let go of items that no longer resonate.

Reorganize: Arrange your space to reflect your current energy and intentions. → If your tools feel unfamiliar or you’re starting from scratch, remember you don’t need anything fancy. A notebook, a candle, and your intuition are enough.

Rebuild Your Foundations

Returning after a break is an opportunity to revisit the basics (just some options - no need or have to)

Meditation and visualization: Strengthen your focus and inner awareness.

Energy work: Practice grounding, centering, and shielding.

Correspondences: Relearn the meanings of herbs, crystals, colors, or elements that resonate with your practice.

Lunar and seasonal cycles: Reconnect with the moon phases, solstices, or festivals.

Explore What Feels Fresh

Your interests may have shifted during your break. Explore new areas of magic:

Divination: Experiment with tarot, runes, pendulums, or scrying.

Spellcraft: Try simple spells for protection, abundance, or self-love.

Nature magic: Work with seasonal energies, local plants, or animal spirits.

Deity work or spirit communication: If you work with deities, reintroduce yourself and reestablish your connection.

Follow your curiosity rather than forcing yourself to do things the “right” way.

Journal or Document Your Practice

Keeping track of your practice can help you stay engaged and reflective:

Daily reflections: Write down small magical moments or rituals.

Dream journaling: Explore messages or symbols in your dreams.

Grimoire: Update old entries or create new ones with fresh insights.

Embrace Seasonal and Cyclical Magic

The seasonal shifts are a great way to align yourself with natural energies.

Winter: Focus on rest, introspection, and shadow work.

Spring: Plant seeds of intention and engage in renewal rituals.

Summer: Embrace creativity, passion, and abundance.

Autumn: Release what no longer serves you and prepare for the darker half of the year.

Seek Community (If Desired)

If you feel isolated, reconnecting with others can inspire and motivate you:

Join online groups or forums.

Attend local witchy events, workshops, or festivals.

Share your journey with trusted friends or like-minded individuals.

Reminder: Community can be supportive, but your practice is deeply personal and doesn’t require external validation.

[druidessgeek]

Doric x female Druid reader

I know it sounds silly to have Druid with another Druid but hear me out. Doric played a more martial and offensive role in combat. The way I’m imagining a Druid reader is more in the support role that you have the option to be in game. Definitely Keyleth vibes but not outright. She hangs back, preferring to use her healing and buffing spells to help the party win the fight. Anyway, I originally wrote this really angsty but didn’t want my first fanfic posted for others to possibly read to be angst. No shade on angst writers I just didn’t want that to be my start

- [ ] Takes her a bit to warm up to you. She is worried she’ll say something stupid or sound like the inexperienced Druid she is.

- [ ] You catch her staring at you a lot though, and she tries to look away from you when you catch the tiefling’s gaze so after a long fight with a warlock trying to sacrifice innocents to his god, you finally sit next to her in front of the camp fire after catching her gaze on you.

- [ ] She is internally screaming when you start inspecting her injuries and casting a quick cure wounds on her scrapes.

- [ ] She confides in you after this. “I never learned much magic. You must think me a bad Druid.”

- [ ] You tell her that it doesn’t make her any less a Druid. That everyone has a role to play. Just because you chose the path of the healer, the nurturer, the caretaker, doesn’t make her path less valid

- [ ] “Any Druid who can take out a red mage while wild shaped is doing great at her vocation, love. Trust the process. Your time on this plane is far from over.”

- [ ] This makes the tiefling blush. You then make it a goal to see her blush at least once a day

- [ ] She asks you to teach her what the rangers couldn’t. Their knowledge of magic is respectable but no formal ritual, she knows even being good with wild shaping and a quick polymorph has left her behind in her Druidic knowledge.

- [ ] Her first lesson begins that night. She learns her first healing spell, which she then uses on a black eye you hadn’t noticed on yourself, touching it tenderly as tendrils of light soothe the inflamed bruise.

- [ ] You two are as thick as thieves after that. She comes with you when you go foraging on your travels. She can already identify most plants in the woods but some of them aren’t for food.

- [ ] You show her how to turn poisonous plants and fungus into potions to coat rocks for her sling. And you teach her how to make healing potions.

- [ ] You start noticing little flowers being left upon your things. Flowers she notices you cooing at gently under the canopy. Daffodils and bee balm in the spring. Goldenrod in the summer

- [ ] You weave them into little crowns and wreaths that you wear on your head and as bracelets, much to your fellow Druid’s poorly concealed excitement. She has to keep herself from picking every flower in the woods.

- [ ] The best part are the bees and butterflies that seem to surround you in almost a halo, sampling the nectars of the flowers, landing on your nose, and Doric, staring at you like you’re the goddess of nature herself.

- [ ] She has to keep herself from kissing you when you tell off an ignorant duke for assuming Doric evil. You even shield her from his judging gaze, returning it upon him and shaming him in front of the whole court for his willful ignorance.

- [ ] “If she’s evil for having horns and a tail, what’s that make you, my lord, for having none of this? Do they not have mirrors in your kingdom?”

- [ ] No one’s ever defended her like this. And it gives her hope. Maybe not all humans are awful. At least, not her human.

- [ ] She stays up with you on watches staring up at the stars while the others rest. She gives herself so little credit in her Druidic abilities but the way she looks up at the stars captivates you. Each constellation a unique personality, each star a close friend.

- [ ] You share your first kiss beneath those stars. She just can’t help it when she looks back down to earth and sees the most beautiful woman staring back at her like nothing else on the planet matters. She cradles your face in her hands and kisses you so gently, so tenderly that the sound of moth’s wings could have been louder.

- [ ] You’re both startled from your romance when you hear Edgin, wide awake and sarcastic as always. “It’s about time.”

[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 9. Cinnamon girl

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Why is arguing so fun to write?

The next chapter will be Pietro and Nadia's very first mission together, we are also rapidly approaching... a milestone in their relationship :^*

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: Canon-typical violence, lots and lots of tension, soft Pietro, Nadia totally isn't in denial.

A month had passed, and I was long free of the bandages, Dr. Cho had worked her magic on my wound and it was mostly healed, allowing me to train more fully and get Natasha and Cap off my back. The next step was to whip Pietro into shape so I could rub their faces in it and be free of him.

We hadn’t spoken about the incident in the hallway since it happened, I was more than happy to keep it that way.

I wandered back into the training room as I sipped water from my bottle, patting the sweat from my face after an intense cardio session. Pietro and I were scheduled to train later today but until then we’d been working out separately. I surveyed the surrounding area as I placed my drink bottle down beside my gym bag, Cap was sparring with Sam whilst Vision did… something bizarre in the corner on his own. I ignored the peculiar red man, looking around for the annoying Sokovian I was supposed to be training with. When my eyes found him, he was positioned before one of the punching bags, hitting it again and again. There was a sheen of sweat gleaming across his forehead and focus was written across his features. I swallowed heavily as my eyes trailed over his form, telling myself I was just ensuring he was using the correct fighting stance that I’d taught him; he was. I certainly did not notice the way his back muscles rippled when he threw his fist toward the bag, nor did I notice how his dark blue shirt clung to his toned body from the sweat. His stance was good, much better than when we’d begun training. He took hold of the bottom of his shirt, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow and exposing the pale skin beneath, defined muscles and sharp lines all visible to me when it rode up his stomach. Yes, his stance was really good. Great form.

“Morning.” The voice startled me slightly, pulling me from my thoughts.

I narrowed my eyes at Cap, he hadn’t quite snuck up on me, but I had certainly been engrossed in what I was doing. “Morning,” I mumbled.

“He seems like he’s improving, you’re doing a good job getting him into shape.”

“He’s progressing well.” I nodded, not daring a glance back at the silver-haired man. “He does, however, have an attitude problem. Which is problematic.”

Steve chuckled at my words, glancing at me with mirth in his eyes. “You know, I used to say the same thing about you.” I glared at him. “Still do actually.” He added. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I huffed exasperatedly.

“I never had an attitude; I just knew better than you.” I taunted. He raised an eyebrow at me then. “Still do,” I added, imitating him. He offered me an unimpressed look, though, I did not miss the way his lips upturned as he walked away. Unwittingly, I glanced back at Pietro who was now gulping down water from his drink bottle. For a long moment I watched the way his throat moved as he swallowed the water, Adam’s apple bobbing rhythmically. Forcing myself to look away, I turned back to my gym bag using my towel to wipe my face once more, even though the sweat was all gone. I felt a gust of air around me and when I pulled the towel away from my face Pietro stood across from me. “Can I help you?”

The corner of his lips quirked up as he watched me. “Are we going to spar, Prinţesă?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Do not call me that.” His smile grew at my tone. “What is it, idiot? Just spit it out.”

He put his hands up in defense as he began walking back over to the punching bag. “I was just going to say that maybe you should stare at me every time I work out, I think I perform better when you watch.”

I rolled my eyes, scoffing at him. “Good god, you are delusional. I was watching to find flaws in your stance.”

He grinned back at me, coming to a stop so abruptly that I almost ran straight into him. “And did you find any?” I did not dignify him with a response. “Don’t worry, Nadia, I do not blame you for looking, I do offer the best view around here.”

God he was infuriating, I circled him on the mat, feeling even more excited than usual to put him on his ass. “Less talking, more fighting.”

“Interesting, nothing to say huh?” He walked opposite me on the mat, an air of arrogance to him that irked me more than usual. “I didn’t think it’d be so easy to render you speechless.” I jabbed him but he blocked it easily, I almost smiled. He blocked two more attacks after that. “See I do listen.”

“So, miracles really do happen.”

He smirked at me. “Well, it’s not hard to listen to you when you talk so sweet. Although your pretty face is a little distracting, I’ll admit.”

I swept his feet from beneath him, causing him to fall to the ground. “I think you ought to start paying less attention to my pretty face, lest you continue to fail miserably in your mission to best me in a round of sparring.” When he was on his feet once more, he moved quickly, throwing a hit which I quickly dodged, but in favor of pinning me he chose to simply lunge for me and pull me to the ground. “That was really stupid,” I muttered as I lay beneath him.

“Says the one who’s pinned to the mat.”

“Pinned? You sure about that?” Within a single maneuver, I’d flipped us, and he was on his back beneath me.

I looked down at him triumphantly, however, the look faltered as I saw his smirking face. “Maybe I was wrong about being the best view around here, this is so much better.” With a huff I pushed myself off of him, standing and dusting myself off.

“Get up, and this time try harder, this is getting a little sad for you.”

He chuckled. “Wow, you certainly have a way with words.”

Almost two hours later we sat side by side, sweaty and worn out from the vigorous training we’d just undertaken. Pietro took a large few gulps from his water bottle.

“You know… I have been meaning to apologize to you.”

“For what.”

“That day in the corridor, I touched you without asking.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I was really worried, and I didn’t know how to bring you out of it without touching you, but I know you don’t like it and I should have asked, so I am sorry.”

A few beats of silence passed between us. He continued unwrapping his hands, seemingly unphased by the tension in the air. His words had taken me completely by surprise. I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that, I had been prepared to pretend that what occurred that day hadn’t happened. “Okay.” I breathed, it was quiet and simple, but I didn’t know what else to say. There were words on the tip of my tongue, but they felt too heavy to speak. I closed my eyes tightly and swallowed heavily. “Thank you, Pietro.” It felt odd to say, uncomfortable, but he needed to hear it.

I could feel his gaze on me, prompting me to open my eyes and look over at him. His clear blue eyes danced across my features. He nodded at me slowly, his focus on my so unwavering that it made my skin prickle. “Anytime.” He mumbled earnestly. That single word had so much weight to it that it felt like a punch to the chest.

“Okay enough chit-chat, get off your ass, and let’s try again.”

He glanced at me in disbelief, shaking his head as a laugh tumbled from his lips.

…

“Good morning, good morning, my friends.” Came a sing-song tone. I glanced over my shoulder to see Tony Stark wandering into the kitchen tapping away at an iPad screen. Steve greeted him from his spot at the table. “Nads, how are you, jaded as ever?”

I turned toward him so he could see my exaggerated eye roll. “Only when you’re around.”

“Ha ha...” He sat down across from Cap at the table. “The good doctor says the wounds healing up well.”

I chose not to respond, simply humming and piling spinach into the blender along with a whole bunch of fruits.

“Mr. Stark.” Pietro’s voice greeted. “I-”

The loud whir of the blender filling the room cut him off.  When I turned back around, I saw Tony smirking into his coffee, whilst Pietro watched me with raised eyebrows. Cap seemed none the wiser.

“Oh, hey Tony, miss us already?” Nat spoke as she entered the room, dropping into a seat at the island, before glancing between Pietro and me. I ignored his gaze and the way his lips upturned at the corners as he watched me.

“Good morning, Nadia.” He drawled. My eyes darted up to him momentarily, expression blank before I looked back down to the green smoothie that was filling my glass. He reached across the island and plucked up one of the uncut apples that sat before me, taking a large bite from it. I could still feel his gaze on me. “Can I ask you something?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “I suspect that you will no matter what I say?”

“You tend to be quite a bitch to me, why is that?”

Suddenly all eyes were on us. I raised an eyebrow at his crude words, I’d admit to being mildly surprised he’d had the nerve to confront me. What I wouldn’t admit was how pleased I was to find him willing to bite. “Is that what I am? A bitch?”

“It certainly seems that way to me.” He had that smart-ass smirk on his lips as he gazed at me, leaning against the opposite side of the island bench chewing his apple. I studied him for a long moment, deadly still and equally as silent. There was a palpable tension in the room from our onlookers as Pietro remained in place, unflinching. I sipped from my drink, reveling in the uncomfortable atmosphere. There was not a single sound in the room, save for Pietro’s chewing. Cap looked as though he wanted to intervene though I saw Tony put a hand on his shoulder from my peripheral. I was unable to stop my lips from curving upwards as Pietro refused to give.

“It’s a disease,” I responded, turning on my heel and exiting the kitchen with my smoothie in hand.

Before I could get far, I overheard Tony saying to Pietro, “I mean she must like you at least a little, kid, considering she didn’t bite your goddamn head off for saying something as stupid as that to her.”

The blue and silver streak whooshed past me in the hallway, stopping before me. “I’m sure they have something for that.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you blathering about now?”

“Your disease…” He grinned at me. I sent him a glare in response. He plucked my glass out of my hand and took a large sip of my smoothie, beaming at me as my eyes narrowed even further. He hummed in contentment, glancing down at the drink and nodding. “That is delicious.”

“Oh, I am so glad you approve. Get out of my way now.”

He rolled his head on his shoulders, chuckling at me. “We are going to be friends; you know this right?”

“You are telling me this?”

He smiled. “Just wait and see, Prinţesă.”

I yelled at him not to call me that as he began speeding off down the hall. “Oh,” he stopped momentarily, glancing at me over his shoulder. “They are going to send us on an assignment together you know. I overheard Cap talking to Stark.” With that, he was gone.

The moment his words processed in my mind I was turning quickly on my heel and re-entering the kitchen where Sam had now joined the table with a bowl of cheerios. “You cannot put me on assignment with that, moronic, bumbling, idiot!” Tony dropped his iPad onto the table.

“I told you that little shit, Pietro, was eavesdropping.”

“Nothing is decided yet, Nadia. There is a job, but we’re still figuring out the logistics.” Steve spoke, continuing to eat calmly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest and moving further into the room. “Great, I’ll do it myself, no need to assign a second body.”

Stark snorted. “Yeah, no-can-do kid, as scary good as you are in the field… seriously it’s a little frightening… this is a two-person job.” I glanced to Nat who immediately shook her head.

“You agreed to play nice, Nads, that means working with him, not cutting him out of missions.”

Without responding to her words, I turned immediately to Sam, with raised eyebrows. He looked between Cap and me. “No way, I’m not getting involved in this.” He said, jamming a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

I groaned, throwing my arms in the air theatrically. “He isn’t ready for the field. He’ll get himself killed.”

“Aw, so you do care?” Tony taunted.

“I care about having backup I can rely on. Pietro is not that.”

Steve bit back a smile, glancing up at me as his fork clattered down onto his plate. “You know what, Nads, I think you’ve just made the decision for us. You and Pietro will be going on this mission together, it’s both of you or neither of you.”

I glared at him so sharply that I was almost sure that he’d burst into flames if I looked any longer. “Hey, you know what, why don’t we start this beautiful partnership off right and you and Speedy can go ahead and cook dinner for all of us,” Tony added, adjusting his glasses, a look of pure amusement on his face.

…

I punched harder at the bag before me, ignoring the sweat that beaded on my forehead and the way hair clung to the nape of my neck. Bouncing on my feet, endorphins pumped through my system, prompting me to keep hitting. Occasionally, I’d throw a kick in to change my rhythm. It came easily to me now, like breathing.

The red had not returned since the day in the hallway, there was no tinge or hint at the corner of my vision that taunted me and when I blinked it never came back. I had, however, dreamt of that strange woman every night since we’d returned from Sokovia. It was as though she had infected my mind, her essence clung to me, and I could not shake it. I did not know who she was, nor did I understand the bizarre, blurry moments that my mind showed me each night when I closed my eyes.

A voice cut through my thoughts and prompted me to punch harder. “Do you ever rest?”

“Fuck off.”

“Charming,” Pietro responded, not put off in the slightest by my bad mood. He stood off to the side, watching me. “You’re good at that.”

“How kind of you.”

At this, he sighed. “I am trying to be nice to you. You know that, right?”

I stopped, tightening the wraps around my hands, and rolling my neck on my shoulders. Moving forward a couple of steps, I put a hand to the bag to steady it, glancing over my shoulder at Pietro briefly. “I’ve been training since I was a child,” I admitted, looking straight ahead.

“In the Red Room?” I tensed at his words. “You mentioned it… in the hallway that day, sorry if I’m overstepping.”

Tightening my fists, I began to strike the bag again. “Yes. In the Red Room.” It was quiet, he didn’t push further. “I was 5 years old when they started training me, I didn’t know any different.” Each time my fists slammed into the punching bag it felt like a bundle of nerves unraveled slightly, letting me breathe a little easier. “I am good at this, because we had to be.” There was a long silence between us, the only sound that filled the room was my fists against the synthetic material. He didn’t speak for a while, though I knew he was still there, I could feel his gaze lingering on me.

“Will you teach me?” He, eventually, asked.

I stopped again. “You don’t know how to hit a punching bag?”

“I think we both know that I do…” I rolled my eyes at his words, though a small smile tugged at my lips, a soft breath coming from me; almost a laugh. “…But you do it better than me.” The urge to offer a taunting retort in response was strong, though, I decided against it. Instead, I turned to grab the roll of black hand wraps and toss them toward Pietro. “No gloves?”

“Punching with wraps makes you stronger.” It was snarky the way I’d responded, and irrespective of the way his lips quirked I regretted it. The thought startled me, God was I seriously getting soft in the face of this idiot? “Punching with wraps will help your wrists get stronger, it will improve you’re punching in the field… You can wear gloves if you prefer though.” His eyes met mine as my tone turned slightly gentler. His blue eyes held me in their gaze for a long while, there was something unreadable in them, a slight furrow to his brow as he watched me. The look he was giving me made my skin prickle with goosebumps. I cleared my throat quickly, shaking my head as if to rid myself of the thoughts. “Okay, come on, I’ll show you.” I moved into the fighting stance I’d shown him many times. “It’s Muay Thai,” I told him. I threw a punch at the bag and asked him to replicate it. He did but it lacked the power mine had held. There was strength there, but he wasn’t throwing a skillful punch, rather relying on brute strength. I shook my head at him.

“That was shit?” He asked, a self-deprecatingly chuckle coming from him.

“Not shit, you just need to adjust the way you throw the punch.” I circled him to stand directly in front of him. “It’s like I say to you when we spar, don’t just use your upper body, you’re strong, but it lacks power.”

“You think I’m strong, Prinţesă?”

I rolled my eyes but chose not to respond to his baiting words. “Put your whole body behind an attack. That’s a rule to live by when you throw a punch or kick.” I move toward the bag again. “Get in your position, open the foot in front to create a center for you to rotate on, then push off your back foot and follow through.” I threw a hard jab at the bag to demonstrate again.” He took my place at the bag, mirroring the position I had stood in and throwing another punch. “Good.” I nodded. When I took his place, I began walking him through the kick, it was the same principle.

He attempted to kick the bag, but it was a little weak, and he stumbled slightly. When he caught himself, he glanced at me, smiling sheepishly. “I’m guessing that’s wrong.”

I bit back a laugh, stepping closer to him and pointing to his foot. “You turned it back in, where should it be?” He glanced down and immediately righted the position. “Okay now move your other foot back and push off it to kick.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is,” I responded. He huffed, trying again, he did not stumble this time, but the kick still needed a lot of work. “That was better, but you need to follow through like I said.”

He groaned, putting his hands on his hips. “Follow through? I do not understand what this means.”

“It means, follow through.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You said you’d teach me, not bully me.”

I was sure if I rolled my eyes anymore, they’d end up permanently stuck in my head. “I am teaching you; you’re just not listening.” He took a step toward me, eyebrows raised on his forehead.

“Oh, I heard you just fine, Prinţesă. The problem isn’t my hearing, it’s your teaching?”

I arched an eyebrow at him, taking a step forward just as he had. “Stop calling me that. Open your front fucking foot. Kick off with your back foot, swing that very same back foot, and hit the fucking bag. Clear enough for you that time?” His jaw clenched, and without saying anything else he turned and kicked the bag again. “Jesus Christ hit the bag with your shin, not your foot!”

“I’ll hit the fucking bag with whatever I want to.”

“Okay fine, break your damn foot then, honestly it’ll be the most fun I’ve had since I started training you.”

The glare he sent me would’ve made me shiver if I weren’t… well me. “You told me to hit the bag with my foot.”

“Oh, I told you to act like an idiot, did I? You sure that’s what you want to go with.”

“Well, you certainly did not tell me to hit it with my shin.”

I clenched my fists at my side, God, he made me so mad. Every muscle in my body was strung tightly as I exhaled deeply. “Pietro, your shin bone is stronger than the bones in your feet, use your shin to hit the bag, not your foot.” He took a deep breath as well, turning back to the bag and throwing another kick. This one was much better, not perfect but far more powerful, he followed through, and he used his shin. “I suppose that will do.” He scoffed at my words, watching as I circled around him once again.

“That was very attractive, you can tell me the truth, I won’t judge you.”

“That was mediocre at best, now show me the kick in the context of a real fight.”

He turned to face me fully, eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“Well, Pietro, because apparently, Steve Rogers is making it his personal mission to make my life a living hell. We will in fact be completing an assignment together and I’d prefer not to work with a mission partner who cannot fight for shit.” I moved into the correct fighting stance. “Now throw the kick again.” He huffed but did as I said, kicking weakly toward me, I dodged it and shook my head. “Properly.” I scolded. Using the side of my fist as a guide I showed him where to aim.

He asked me why, once again.

I swiftly threw the kick I’d been telling him to, hitting him perfectly. He crumpled to the ground. “There is a nerve there that does not particularly enjoy being hit by solid bone… and because I told you to.” I stepped away from him so he could practice. After a few tries and he was kicking it accurately, hitting the bag at the height of where my upper leg would be. I almost smiled at the kick he threw next, it was powerful and solid. “Yes, just like that, Pietro!” He visibly tensed, pausing momentarily. “Now add the kick into the cycle of your punches. Jab jab, kick. Show me.” He did, it was beautiful. He was sweating and a little red in the face when he turned to me again. I smiled at him, a rare and sincere smile. “Good job. Now do that in the field and we may survive the mission yet.”

Hours later, Pietro and I stood side by side staring blankly into the refrigerator that was open before us. I glanced over at him. “After you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “What do you want me to do? I don’t even know what we’re making.” I huffed at him. “And by the look of it you don’t either.”

“Uh, yes I do.” My tone was petulant, and I wasn’t entirely sure what made it so impossible not to bite back when it came to him.

“Oh really? Then please, by all means after you.” I stepped toward the fridge, eyes darting from item to item.

With a sigh of exasperation, I slammed the door shut. “F.R.I.D.A.Y are you there.” I chose to ignore Pietro’s smug expression.

“Yes, Nadia, how can I help?”

I asked the AI to tell us what we should cook for dinner.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark has informed me that I’m not allowed to help you with this.”

That bastard. Pietro laughed as I cursed in Russian. “Oh, this is funny to you? I don’t see you offering suggestions as to what we can cook.”

“Hey, it’s your fault we’re here in the first place.” He spoke, walking past me to reopen the fridge. He began grabbing beef, potatoes, onions and a few other items as well.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction. “How is it my fault?!”

“If you weren’t so grumpy at me all the time, the others would get off your back.” He washed his hands and then began to unpackage and season the beef. “See I know that you like me, I can just tell, something in the blind rage you consistently direct at me… the others, they don’t see this.” I gritted my teeth as he spoke.

“See even more proof that you should not be my mission partner, I cannot get anything done with your delusional ass.”

“I am not delusional.”

“Well, you must be if you think that what I feel for you is anything other than complete and utter hatred.”

“Hate is a lot like love.” I gaped at his egregious audacity. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?”

“What are you even making?”

“Goulash.” He said before telling me to grab a pot. “We used to eat it as children, it was the first dish my mother taught me to make.” I remained quiet at he spoke, the sound of his voice accompanied by the knife hitting the chopping board beneath. A loud crash cut through the peaceful silence when the pot I pulled from the cupboard knocked another onto the ground. The knife Pietro had been holding clattered onto the chopping board and he flinched, his hands immediately going to his ears. “Careful!” He almost shouted.

I stood immediately, straight as a board and tense at his sudden shift in demeanor. It wasn’t anger; it was fear that was potent in his tone. “I…” Carefully I picked one pot up, put it on the stove, and stowed the other back in the cabinet. He’d dropped his hands from his ears and had turned away from me, hands fisted at his sides. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to frighten you…”

“You didn’t.” He muttered quietly.

I wrung my hands, unsure how to proceed, but feeling that I should. “Pietro.” It was gentle, more so than I’d probably ever been with him. I took a step toward him, and he continued to face the opposite direction. “You cannot control the reaction your brain tells you to have. It is just trying to protect you.”

“From a falling pot?”

“It wasn’t the pot, it was the sound, wasn’t it?”  He scrubbed a hand over his face. I swallowed heavily, rubbing a hand over the nape of my neck. “I left the Red Room 9 years ago, almost an entire decade away from that place, and yet I still see those walls almost every time I close my eyes. I mean I lost my mind at Wanda even mentioning it. These things, the ones that haunt our minds, they don’t leave just because we want them to.” He turned his head slightly in my direction, still not facing me but it was better. “You shouldn’t punish yourself for it, Pietro.”

He turned to face me fully then, an unreadable expression on his face. “But you do.” I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “You punish yourself.”

I shook my head, turning back to the pot and turning the heat on. “It’s different,” I murmured. The sound of chopping continued then, rhythmic and calming.

Warmth radiated from him as he stepped beside me, adding the ingredients to the pot. “I don’t think it’s different.” He said, and then he looked at me and there weren’t any words that I could come up with in that moment. So, for once, I chose not to seek his buttons out. We continue to prepare dinner together, speaking occasionally, mostly teasing remarks. It was not lost on me that in the kitchen that night none of our taunts held any real bite.

When the other Avengers joined us that evening, they seemed pleasantly surprised to find us both intact and a meal waiting for them. The table filled up quickly, Natasha, Steve, Tony, Vision, and Sam all watched as Pietro brought over the steaming hot dish and placed it in the center of the table. Placing the last warm bread roll into the basket before following the silver-haired man to the table. Tony and Natasha were getting themselves drinks so there were a few options of seats open around the table. However, I silently selected the one beside Pietro, ignoring the looks that were given to me and selecting the crunchiest-looking roll from the basket. When the table was full, I met Tony’s eyes from across the table, his gaze had been settled on me for a long while when I finally gave in and looked up, raising a single eyebrow at him. He was no longer able to contain his amused grin as it erupted across his features. I rolled my eyes as he began wiggling his eyebrows childishly at me.

“What now?” I huffed, watching the steam pour from the bread I’d just torn into. The sound of a glass hitting the table and water splashing caught my attention. Yet, when I looked up from my plate, I was not surrounded by the people I knew. It was blurry and warm and there was an unfamiliar boy across the table from me.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, I guess.” Tony was speaking but it was not him before me. I narrowed my eyes at the dark-haired boy who patted frantically at the spillage before it started dripping onto his lap.

I blinked and it was Tony again, mopping up the water from the glass he’d knocked over. “What, haven’t you invented a gadget to prevent your clumsiness?” Pietro asked, raising an eyebrow at the bemused man before him. I shook the strange moment from my mind, snickering slightly. All eyes seemed to turn to me for just a second. One scathing look from me had all but one looking away. I glanced, hesitantly, to the man beside me. A crooked grin stretched across his face as he gazed at me, eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. His gleeful expression had me rolling my eyes yet again and turning back to the food before me.

[its-callum-everybody]

I CANNOT DRAW. Thats how I’ve started every single part of this series and it’s how I’m going to end it. Hi. I’m Cal. In case you’ve never seen this before lemme explain. I can’t draw. But I really wanna show off my twst OC. So, I decided to make a 4 part series of me making her in-depth character analysis.

Part 1 — Basic Character Information / Relationships

Part 2 — Everything about her Unique Magic

Part 3 — Lore

Part 4 — Appearance

Part 4 ➤

Appearance!

A character’s appearance is incredibly important, even if their like invisible and you can see straight through them because there’s some type of reason or lore as to why they’re invisible!

It’s a whole bunch of things to consider; how are they built? What are their facial features? How is their hair styled? Is it clean? What color is their eyes? Is there any reason they dress a certain style?

All important questions, all things I had to ask while trying to curate Cyrielle. So let’s break down on what I decided to do with her appearance, shall we?

Hair

A characters hair is often used to symbolize their development. One great example of this in ATLA where Zuko’s hair gradually gets longer and longer the more he heals from his trauma as well as his growth as a person. It’s also symbolic in Sokka’s sides growing out and Katara’s hair getting fuller, softer. You’ve also probably seem the trope of a girl cutting her hair to make a statement, maybe she’s running away or trying to prove herself.

Well, for Cyrielle’s hair I wanted to play on the phrase ‘hair holds memories’ because she has amnesia. Cyrielle’s hair is going to start out short but as each Book and Chapter goes by it gets gradually longer to symbolize her getting back her memories. It also will help because, just like with Zuko, I want it to symbolize her growth.

NRC is a place full of villain kids, most of which have their own traumatic past or quells their trying to deal with like Cyrielle who is trying to break away from the villainous past of her grandfather entirely. So as Cyrielle’s hair grows she’s coming to realize the world is less black and white. Yes. These kids are messed up, but so is she in some context and if anything she should help them try to move on with her. It symbolizes passion for the future, for moving forward.

But for now, in book one, it’s short.

Eyes

Eyes. There almost a whole different story from hair. Almost. Eye colors can mostly be framed around genetics, but if your characters have special colored eyes theres usually a reason for it. Something which can easily be tied into their lore. Same with abnormal pupil shapes like stars or hearts.

Luckily, I’m not doing anything crazy for Cyrielle’s eye color. We’re sticking with gray. However, I will be focusing on eye shape.

For Cyrielle’s eyes I want them to sort of narrow, kind of almond shaped. As most characters with those type of eyes can be perceived as calm natured. Perhaps even stoic. Also, it gives her a masculine touch. As its to be noted maturer, mainly masculine presenting characteristics in most media. Especially anime. Have narrower eye shapes. While girls have bigger, rounder eyes.

They also need to be narrow to represent something I just mentioned; maturity. Most Kids have small, but usually bright and rounder eyes in media representation because it helps give them a feel of childhood innocence and whimsy. Something which Cyrielle never really got the chance of having. Go read the lore part to understand why.

Body

Body shape and type! These are very important, especially if you want diverse characters. After all, you can represent someone with different backgrounds and cultures but those people will look different. Say if they didn’t eat a lot growing up, have some medical disabilities, had or have a healthy diet, maybe they were encouraged to work out, experienced or are experiencing a change in their body.

It’s all very natural and it’s awesome when properly represented so make sure to research first kids!

Now, lets examine what Cyrielle is right? Well she stands at 5 foot 8 inches tall and weighs 146 lbs. I want most of that weight to come from muscle but she of course is still going to have a little bit of fat because girl is not a work out monster. She is more like a pilates princess who occasionally lifts weights.

So thats going to give her a thicker, rounder structure. Which will be good because if she was all skin and bones she wouldn’t have much muscle, so she would be physically weaker which isn’t something she wants.

Her Scar

Now, given her unique magic she can’t really get or sustain injury as 99.9 percent of the time she’ll be able to just heal it herself without leaving behind a scar at all.

So whats so special about this one? Well, it’s the one scar she’ll never be able to get rid of. The one where it seemed as though she had been pierced through the heart with a sword.

Outfits

Character outfits! Now, in most shows and such characters will be primarily seen in the same outfits except for maybe the occasional change. These are often true for most anime and cartoons especially. Something which I don’t want. But its best for practically in this sense.

And TWST and other games like it do it so well. Especially with special cards and events. Plus, we’re also given, dorm outfits, school outfits, gym outfits. Its *chefs kiss* perfect. Sadly, we won’t be talking about any of her event outfits for today. Just the basic ones plus a few extra just for funsies.

Dorm Uniform —

The dorm uniform is fun because Ramshackle doesn’t have one so you can do whatever you want with it! Of course, I’m going to tie in on the ghostly, victorian sort of vibe. Because who would I be if I didn’t?

For starters! I think it is well established that Ramshackle is inspired by the Haunted Mansion. Something which I already liked to incorporate into Cyrielle’s fashion alongside academia and fantasia sort of themes.

Now, once more, I can’t draw. So I had two options, Pinterest until I can Pinterest no longer. Or Picrew.

So you can obviously tell which I chose. Credits to @seep_999 of course. Now. None of her main features were featured in this picture. Just the outfit.

School Uniform —

Her school uniform is fully black as Ramshackle isn’t given much of an official school color. Though later on it would be established as a sort of Blue Yonder shade.

Which would change the color of her vest.

The actual component of her uniform consist of the regular vest; regular over coat; a white shirt with a ruffle neck; a black & white striped bow tie; black tights; and low black heels.

Sprite

Now, as I mentioned I cannot draw. So. I have resorted to a common method I’ve found, which is this lovely picrew made by @lxnya728.

And here she is! Cyrielle is completed at long last. Of course, I’ll be doing more works and drabbles with her later on. Maybe even dive into some event lore and outfits, but for now here she is!