#fe miranda

[thatratgo]

Always in rpgs. Straight 90% of the time.

[fataltwelves]

you can never go back! you can bite and scratch and beg but you can never go back!

[petraevesplace]

Understanding Miranda

Miranda’s conversation with Leif at the end of Thracia is one of the oddest in the game. It feels unnecessarily cruel when followed by Leif’s proposal to Nanna and the only explanation I’ve seen for why the scene exists is theorizing Kaga having a grudge against a brown haired tomboy. But an argument I’ve been hearing recently in defense of love triangles made me think of another, one that, at least to me, feels more narratively satisfying and explains a lot about Miranda as a character.

August warns Leif early in the game that he must learn from the past how not to rule. Multiple times in the game the north and south’s rulers and actions are criticized and it’s very clear if the peninsula is ever going to have peace, it needs a ruler who will take a different approach rather than follow in the footsteps of the past. But the game also gives you multiple characters who glorify and lament the loss of that past and see a return of what they had before as a good outcome, including one of Leif’s advisors. Leif is in a position where he could become a ruler like those before him if he just does as the northern nobles and knights want or he could become a new type of ruler if he approaches ruling the way he feels is right. His choice of what type of ruler he’ll become and how he handles those supporting either side has a lot of parallels with his choice between Nanna and Miranda and the girls themselves.

Miranda represents following the knights and nobles and choosing to attempt to recreate the past. She displays many of the traits associated with the previous rulers of Thracia and the Manster District; she’s proud, assertive, self-centered, quick to anger and let that blind her, and struggles to be understanding and open with others. She’s presented as a potential love interests similarly to how this path is presented to Leif, pushed forward by northern nobles. With this in mind, Leif’s nonanswer now fits into a pattern of noncommittal responses he gives to the other northern knights and nobles in game when they push for him to take their path. When Dorias tells him to never forsake his knightly pride, Leif admits he didn’t think about the battle in those terms, only concerned with trying to prevent a needless slaughter. He doesn’t disagree or take issue with Dorias’s perspective but doesn’t seem interested in switching to it either. Similarly, he doesn’t outright reject Finn’s request to unify all of Thracia, just promises to take care of the north and says what happens with the south will depend on Travant. He cares for and respects the other nobles and knights of the north too much to dismiss their perspective and wants even when they don’t align with his own, but acknowledgment and a smaller reassurance is all he’s willing to give them.

Nanna represents choosing his own approach and ruling as he feels is right. She displays more of what we see from Leif’s approach to leading; being compassionate and empathetic, gentle but able to be strong and stubborn especially when other people’s lives are concerned, a healer beloved for her sweetness and generosity. Leif and Nanna’s feelings are hinted at by the game’s mechanics with her being the only person who supports him, and that of course being a mutual support, and made blatant when he proposes to her. His proposal to her is completely honest and open, the opposite of how he and Miranda are with hers, reflecting who Leif would be if he chose either. Choosing Miranda and the nobles’ path would be him compromising and being disingenuous with himself, which is why he doesn’t. He chooses Nanna for the same reason he chooses to stand by his approach to leadership and ruling, because it feels most right and natural to him, because it’s something he genuinely wants rather than what others are trying to push upon him. He has the people’s support of it too Mareeta’s nudging for Nanna’s confession can be seen as in contrast to the noble’s advocating for Miranda.

Another place the sides each girl stands for can be seen is in their death quotes. Miranda wishes for things could go back to the way they were, referring to before Alster’s fall. But just like the Leonster Dorias and the knights long to restore was flawed, the time Miranda reminisces about wasn’t as good as she remembers. The rest of the country was in ruin from Travant’s invasion followed by Bloom’s and was still occupied by the Empire as it is now. Her life was good but Leif he’d just lost him home and the last of his family and now lived in Alster in hiding because he was wanted dead by the Empire. The carefree, simple days Miranda wants only existed for her. Meanwhile Nanna in her death quote calls out to Leif to tell him not to lose. Her last thought is wanting Leif and the rebellion to keep going, to keep fighting and liberate Northern Thracia. She wants Leif to succeed because she believes in him, both that he can win and that his liberation of the north will be best for it. Both girls dislike the state of their country but deal with it in opposite ways, Miranda turning to nostalgia while Nanna focuses on the future, just as the paths each girl represents do.

I started this out by saying I was inspired by the argument I’ve heard in favor of love triangle, that argument being that love triangles can be good when each of the choices represent a larger narrative choice the choosing character has to make. But that doesn’t quite fit this situation as Miranda v. Nanna is never really presented as a choice for Leif. But that also fits with the larger choice Leif has to make as despite everyone around him who wants him to pick up right where his father left off and be the next Quan, he never feels like he’s going to become that. He never considers changing to fit what the knights and nobles want just as he never considers being with Miranda. He knows what he wants to do and be and while he’ll try to placate those who want something else, he’s not going to compromise either.

Partially related, I also think looking at Miranda from a narrative perspective can explains the complaints I’ve heard about Miranda as a unit. Her low level and poor bases fit with her backstory of being a political prisoner since she was five. I doubt someone in her position would be allowed to train or be trained in combat so anything she learned was likely in secret and quite possibly on her own. Promoting to a Mage Knight also makes senses both with her narrative role as the representation of the knights and nobles and for her as a princess of a kingdom of Northern Thracia, a country known for its knights. It would be odder if she didn’t choose to become a knight of some kind. The promotion is a poor choice from a gameplay perspective given how many maps in the endgame are indoors but this is Thracia we’re talking about, gameplay and story are rarely not intertwined, even if that means making the game more frustrating or difficult (hello Xavier).

[theofficersacademy]

happy anniversary miranda! it's that slow period of the year so i'm hoping that giving in to the siren call and breathing new life into my roster will reignite my excitement. i'd like to drop Miranda for the time being and reserve Nel from Engage. Thank you!

Miranda has been dropped and is now available!

Nel has been reserved!

You have one week (10/27) to submit your blog and application to the Masterlist. Thank you for your reserve!

- Mod Key

[saiyan-of-fairy-tail]

@thesummonerandthehelgeneral

I had to go through a difficult thought process, but I recalled that my Summoner has so many questions for Líf, and I give you a certified "FUCK IT, WE BALL" moment!

[mayonessho]

Furret as Miranda Thracia 776 yippee!

[juanjoseojedadiaz]

Aseguró que podría llegar a ser un estado si se rescata su potencial

Barlovento: Un tesoro folklórico olvidado que clama por desarrollo y atención

Caracas 20/11/24. (PS).- Este miércoles, en el programa Termómetro Social, transmitido por Radio Fe y Alegría 1390 AM, bajo la conducción de Pablo Zambrano y Juan Luis Sosa, su invitado, Gonzalo Aragort –exdirector de Turismo de Higuerote, exdirector de Cultura de Río Chico, escritor, especialista en planificación y costumbrista– destacó la riqueza cultural de Barlovento, mientras hacía un llamado a las autoridades para rescatar el desarrollo de la región.

Aragort subrayó que una de las principales preocupaciones de los barloventeños es la falta de visibilidad nacional e internacional de su región. Aunque cuentan con recursos naturales y tradiciones culturales únicas, el abandono de las autoridades ha limitado su potencial turístico. "Lo mejor de estar bien es que seguimos esperando que las autoridades nos atiendan un poco más".

Principales tradiciones que Enriquecen a Barlovento

Aragort enumeró las festividades que hacen de Barlovento un baluarte cultural:

- Parranda Navideña en Tacarigua de Brión la noche del 30 de noviembre.

- Fiesta de los Santos Inocentes en Caucagua, el 27 y 28 de diciembre.

- Parranda de los Muertos en San José de Barlovento, el 30 de diciembre.

- Encuentros religiosos como el de los Niños Jesús de El Guapo y Tacarigua de la Laguna, cada 1º de febrero.

- La reconocida celebración de San Juan Bautista, el 24 de junio, que convierte a Barlovento en un epicentro del tambor venezolano.

"Barlovento huele a tambor, huele a San Juan", al tiempo que señaló que lleva 17 años realizando la tradición del arroz con coco en la Plaza Bolívar de Río Chico cada Miércoles Santo.

Falta de Proyectos y Apoyo Oficial

Pese a estas riquezas, Aragort enfatizó que los seis municipios que conforman la región (Acevedo, Andrés Bello, Brión, Buroz, Páez y Pedro Gual) enfrentan un abandono generalizado. "La capacidad hotelera es muy reducida, la iniciativa privada casi no existe y los servicios públicos son un desastre", lamentando además, la pérdida de los Canales de Río Chico, un atractivo turístico destruido por el desvío de aguas hace 25 años, lo que afectó gravemente la economía local.

Una Propuesta de Unidad y Desarrollo

Gonzalo Aragort planteó la necesidad de una mancomunidad entre alcaldías y la gobernación de Miranda para rescatar el turismo y el folklor como motores de desarrollo. "Barlovento puede ser una ciudad o incluso un estado, pero sin un proyecto claro eso no es factible", haciendo un llamado a las autoridades a impulsar un evento que promueva el amor propio y el orgullo regional como punto de partida para el progreso.

Urge el Rescate de Barlovento

Exhortó acerca de la necesidad de convertir a Barlovento en el destino turístico y cultural que merece ser, con la atención y el cariño que requiere, destacando que a pesar de los descuidos, “Barlovento tiene mucho que ofrecer: playas, ríos, montañas y una actividad religiosa constante y muy bonita”.

Juan José Ojeda Díaz / Prensa de Solidaridad

X (antes Twitter): @juanjoseojeda

Instagram: @juanjoseojedadiaz

[rivage-seulm]

Gustavo Gutierrez and Liberation Theology’s Critical Faith Theory

The Great Gustavo Gutierrez died this week. He transitioned as a 96-year-old giant whose A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation (1971) popularized and spurred the most important theological movement of the last 1700 years (i.e. since Constantine in the 4th century). In fact, liberation theology (LT) might well be described as responsible for the West’s most influential…

[makimusic]

My Cover of 'Paciencia Y fe' from the In the Heights Movie soundtrack. This is my assessment performance for school. I'm only 14 so I'm not perfect but I'm open to any criticism :) Also don't mind my crooked skirt lol. And yes, that gasp at the end was intentional haha.

[violetsiren90]

Under the Hunter's Moon

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; young love; autumn/harvest vibes, pure unadulterated fluff

Summary: A disappointment turns into something unexpected when Yoongi encounters you outside of your cliffside haven.

Content warnings: PG rating, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; depictions of underage smoking; allusions to divorce; school bullying; Yoongi being a scaredy cat on rides lol; mentions of eating and food; allusions to a difficult home life; cuties at a carnival 💕; brief feelings of panic; riding in the back if a truck sans safety restraints.

Word Count: ~3200

Author's note: I spent my birthday today at a little pumpkin patch by the sea. I'd been wanting to go since getting the idea for this drabble a few months back. I felt like I got to ring in the next year with them, somehow. I felt them in the salty breeze and I heard them on the crash of the waves. They are so precious to me. ❤️

If no one has told you yet today you are loved and so worthy of it! 🧜‍♀️💜

He had found you sniffling under a sprawling valley oak that had tilted its way over the aged planks and posts of the two-rail fence and stretched out toward the naked expanse of the strawberry field and the last fiery rays of the late-October sun. He and Hoseok had broken away from the pack of boys he hung around with to find a quiet nook for a smoke. When he had seen you look up at him in surprise from where your face had been buried in your drawn-up knees, nose red and cheeks stained with tears, he had shoved a cigarette into Hobi's shirt pocket and sent the freshman packing. Now Yoongi was sitting next to you in silence, his back to the trunk, stealing furtive glances at you between drags. You heaved a sigh and leaned back against the tree, your shoulder brushing his. 

"I'm okay," you murmured, drawing the back of your hand a last time over your eyes, mascara that you rarely wore smudging across your knuckles.

"Yeah?" he asked, his gaze trained over the mulched land that stretched from the tips of his Converse to where the dying light strained out to bathe his soft, porcelain features in a golden sheen. "You here with somebody?"

"I...was...I guess," you muttered despondently. "Don't really know why I ever let myself believe they would want to hang out with me. Should have just stayed home like last year."

You kept your gaze from his, your eyes instead catching the movement of his slender, athletic legs stretching out in front of him and kicking up little clouds of silt that caught here and there as they dissipated over his light-wash skinny jeans.

"What are you doing here, anyway? You hate crowds."

You felt his shoulder shrug against yours.

"It's the Fest," he remarked, "Everybody goes."

Every year on the Friday before Halloween, your high school loaded its coastal-dwelling autumnally-deprived students onto busses for a forty-five minute drive inland and into agricultural territory to attend the massive Fall Fest for which its hosting county was acclaimed. It was the highlight of the semester - more anticipated than the winter formal - and for good reason. Tickets purchased upon entry (and sold in homeroom two weeks in advance) could be traded for carnival rides and games and seasonal attractions, while a little cash could afford attendees delicious treats and festive souvenirs.

You had never really seen what all the fuss was about. But, then again, events of such a nature were infinitely more enjoyable when one had someone with which to share them - a novelty you had never been afforded until a week ago, when Miranda Dallet and another girl from her posse had asked you to sit with them at lunch. When they asked you to attend the Fest with them you had been surprised, a feeling which had given way to one much less pleasantly anticipatory when Miranda had begun asking you about your newly-divorced father's house - the one just a few miles into town from the Fest grounds, and the one he had apparently told Jacqueline Peters' mother had a hot tub and a 50-inch flat screen TV.

When your father had agreed to let the lot of you stay over at his after the big bash, the reaction of your new acquaintances had you feeling the tiniest bit proud, even if you knew you were being used...you had never really had girlfriends before. Their squeals of excitement and insistent vows that you were the best had lit a little candle in your heart you hadn't even realized existed. Its flame had grown brighter over the days that followed as you planned outfits and borrowed lip gloss and let the others style your hair. And then, half an hour ago, it had been snuffed out when your father had called to cancel last minute, and the news had seen Miranda call you a liar and a poser, thereby revoking her friendship, her crew, and the white puffer jacket she had insisted you borrow, to leave you crushed and alone beside a candy-apple cart.

Your heart sank at the prospect of recounting your pathetic tale to Yoongi...but, he never asked. He merely finished his cigarette, tossing the butt into the upturned soil, and then standing and brushing off his jeans, shoved one hand in the pocket of his bomber jacket and extended the other down to you. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. As you swiped away the smudges your tears had made of the supposedly waterproof eye makeup, you felt Yoongi's gaze drift over you. You blinked up at him questioningly.

"You look...different," he offered, shoving his other hand into its corresponding jacket pocket.

You wrapped your arms self-consciously around the bare inches of your midriff. A trip to the local mall with Miranda and company after school the previous day had resulted in the purchase of your current attire: a light-pink spaghetti-strap tank that hugged your torso, ruched sides pulling it well above the studded waistband of your snugly fitting lowrider jeans, accompanied by a pair of hoop earrings larger than you had ever worn and which were nearly as shiny as your lip gloss. Temperatures remaining in the low seventies well into the late days of fall allowed teenage girls across your county to continue their relentless pursuit of getting dress-coded in the name of Brittany Spears. At events like these, however, the chaperoning staff were wise enough to let it be, as such efforts would likely result in wasted funds and totally empty busses. You had decided to take the plunge and wear something rather decidedly out of character.

"Well," you huffed, "I couldn't come the way I usually dress..."

Yoongi's brow creased.

"What's wrong with how you dress?"

"Ah...I don't know...I just wanted to look nice, I guess."

He nodded, eyes on his shoes.

"Do I look...bad?" You asked quietly, smoothing your hands down over the denim of your pants.

Yoongi looked a bit surprised when his eyes flicked up to yours again, and then they softened as he answered.

"No...no, of course not."

You smiled gratefully and his dark eyes went wide like a baby's as he tilted his head down, glancing about as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth and raised a hand to scratch behind his ear. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought he looked a bit shy. Was he shy? Something inside you preened a bit at the thought. Your bashfulness having dissipated, you moved your hands to clasp behind your back. Yoongi cocked a brow, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stripped of his jacket and held it out to you.

"Looks a little cold though," he remarked, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"I'm fine, thank you," you huffed, feeling a bit caught, and crossed your arms in indignation.

He shrugged, still smirking, and tossed the jacket over his shoulder.

"Suit yourself," he remarked, "But it's gonna be a lot chillier when it's dark."

"I'm leaving anyway," you sulked, trudging toward the low fence and clambering over it.

"Why?" Yoongi asked quickly as he followed, nimbly vaulting the wooden structure and coming to land beside you.

"Because I got ditched. I'm not gonna wander around here alone like a loser."

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and watched him physically swallow the joke that had formulated on his tongue about it being too late for you in that regard. Instead he reached up and poked you on the cheek.

"So don't go alone. Come with me."

You blinked at him. You had never once hung out with him outside the ledge. There had been the occasional brief wave of a hand across a parking lot or small affectionate smile when passing in a hall, but never so much as a word between you when at school. It had been an unspoken mutual agreement, keeping the worlds of your lives and the ledge separate. It kept your shared hiding place a haven from the rest of it all - one that you both desperately needed. So, his proposition caught you off guard and feeling a little uncertain. Yoongi must have realized your quandary, because he draped his jacket gently around your shoulders and gave you that little hopeful raise of his brows you'd have moved mountains for, and before you knew it, he was ambling alongside you as you trotted towards the lights and laughter of the rides.

It was strange and new, being with him like this, and you began to realize that even though you could read his face like the pages of a book and stood gatekeeper to many of the secrets of his gentle, burning heart, you'd never seen the sweet little smile that cotton candy caused to bloom on his lips, or how quickly it could vanish at the prospect of riding the slingshot. This being so, you couldn't help but take him in like some lovely unknown creature as you sat beside him on the Ferriss wheel and watched him glance nervously toward the ground growing further and further below.

"You okay?" you asked in amusement, glancing at his whitened knuckles where they clutched the safety bar across his lap.

He hummed in assent, now peering down over the tips of his shoes. You followed his gaze, leaning forward and consequently causing the little bucket seat to rock as it climbed toward the peak of the structure.

"Yah, yah, yah, yah!" Yoongi hollered, eyes wide as saucers as he yanked you back upright and only succeeded in rocking your seat more violently.

You didn't understand what he said next - he had slipped into Korean - but you were laughing too hard at his terrified and exasperated expression and how he clutched your arm to pay any mind to what he had to say.

The Ferris wheel proved to be the sole ride of the evening, as Yoongi flatly refused to endure another, and you made your way into the stretch of grounds that smelled like cinnamon and grilled meats and sounded with booth attendants enticing festivalgoers to try a hand at winning their wares. You stopped to toss a few coins onto dishes, coming infuriatingly close with your third penny to winning a giant Pikachu plushie.

You then proceeded to toss and toss until you had nearly exhausted your change purse without luck - only pausing when Yoongi appeared at your elbow with a two corndogs, slipping one into your hand. You protested at him spending his money on food you knew, though simple, could not have been cheap. He ignored your indignation, however, leading you back into the bustle and sermonizing over the rigged nature of the coin-toss game.

You looked down with a small plaintive smile at the paper boat encasing the deep-fried fare in your hands. Yoongi, though sharp and driven, wasn't a good student. He had a reputation for slacking off on assignments and cutting classes that won no favors with teachers who would never know that he had been working two jobs under the table since he was thirteen. That without his help his family would likely lose their home. That he had bought his mother nearly every single earthly possession she had. That the dinner you were holding meant a hell of a lot more than just a few bucks for some carnival food.

He was still chatting on in an endearing, self-satisfied drone, eyes half-lidded and head tilted back pedantically, when you suddenly slipped your arm under his, squeezing his bicep affectionately.

"What?" he looked down at you, interrupting his own stream of thought.

You shook your head as you took a bite of your corndog and grinned up at him through full cheeks. He let out a chuckle, taking a bite of his own.

"Were you listening to anything I said?" he grumbled in lighthearted accusation over his own mouthful. 

"Of course not," you hummed, bumping his hip, and causing him to stumble beside you.

He grunted, the corner of his mouth pulling up just ever so slightly. 

"Fright walk!" you crooned, pointing at a structure decked out in campy cobwebs with a lopsided grim reaper standing wobbly attendance at the door.

"Nope," Yoongi shook his head, tugging you suddenly in the opposite direction.

"Chicken!" You whined.

"Korean. Fried." He deadpanned with a straight-lipped smile and you nearly choked on the last of your corndog as you snorted with laughter.

Yoongi grinned down at you. There it was on your pretty lips again, that smile that lit up his world like a beacon in the night. If someone had asked him if it was more important for the sun to rise in the east each day or for that smile to reach your eyes, he would have plunged the very earth into darkness every time, deny it as he might.

"Come on," Yoongi murmured.

Weaving through the booths, stray leaves crunching underfoot, he led you to a long line of festival goers queuing up to pile into the beds of big trucks loaded down snuggly with bales of hay.

You had only been in line a few minutes when you heard their voices behind you. You recognized Miranda's snicker and your stomach twisted into a knot. The brisk breeze suddenly tripping over you from behind carried with it their mirthless laughter, and you froze in place as your body and mind waged a war of priority over delaying your tears and moving your feet.

A victor was never decided.

Your swimming eyes blinked and saw him, his little smile and soft, determined eyes, as he moved in front of you, pulling up the collar of his jacket on either side of your face. He held it there, steady hands, the fabric brushing your hot ears as his eyes locked yours and silently told you to breathe, wordlessly promised it would all be alright. The sights and sounds of the festival faded and all you could hear was the soothing, rhythmic crash of the sea.

"Want to get out of here?" Yoongi asked lowly, after a long moment, gaze still holding your own.

You nodded and he took your hand.

Yoongi borrowed your cell phone to make a call and walked with you down the dirt road that opened into a rural highway from the mouth of the festival grounds. As you walked you told him about the girls. About your father's broken promise. About the not being needed, and not so not being wanted. He let you pour out and sift through your anger and hurt in the company of his gentle and receptive silence.

Half a mile's trek brought you to a tiny gas station, its aged, yellowing sign flickering to life as the sun finally yielded the dim glow of its last strains to the darkness beyond the strawberry fields.

Yoongi bought two cans of cola from a buzzing old vending machine, handing one to you as he sat beside you on the iron bench chained to the side of the building. The stars began to peep out and speckle the sky as the full moon tipped over the eastern horizon to find you, much to its surprise, quite far from your little ledge, though still side by side. It watched you curiously until its flaxen beams were joined by a pair of bobbing headlights as a truck rumbled up off the road.

"Thanks, hyung," Yoongi clapped the driver, a handsome older boy who glanced between the two of you with a sly smile, on the shoulder before gripping the edge of the bed and bracing a foot against the tire to hop into the back of the truck. He turned and held a hand out for you.

"We're riding back there?" You asked skeptically, glancing over the dusty plastic ridges of the bed.

"We never got that hayride," Yoongi said with a shrug, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you grabbed his hand and let him pull you in.

You scootched against the back of the cab, pulling your knees up to your chest. The warmth was quickly dispelling in the darkness, and cool air whipping around your body as it dipped through the bed made you shiver. Your eyes flicked to Yoongi's bare arms.

"Here, thanks for the loan..." you murmured, shrugging the jacket off and holding it toward him.

Before he could refuse to take it, your ride jostled on the unpaved road, tossing you across his lap. His arms caught you, and after a moment's hesitation, pulled you to his chest and over his right leg, fanning the jacket out over your bodies. Your back to his chest and his arms around your waist, he held you, as he had a dozen times before. A dozen times and your heart still fluttered - fluttered and then settled into safety as you settled into him.

An hour or so later, Yoongi reached up to lift you down onto the sidewalk. You didn't notice as your eyes caught his - sweeter and rounder - how his hands lingered a moment too long at your waist. The driver asked if Yoongi wanted a ride back to his place and he declined, thanking him again. The older boy said Yoongi owed him a fishing trip and Yoongi chuckled, waving him off as the truck rolled down the street.

Your house was dark, and Yoongi walked you to the front door, hands stuffed in his pockets. You turned the key in the lock, and then you turned to him.
You took him in as he looked down at you, his pretty, soft features concealing none of his affection. He swallowed, shifting on his feet.

"What?" he asked.

"Thank you," you murmured earnestly.

"For what...?" and he began to scoff gently, but your answer came too quickly and sincerely for him to protest.

"For tonight. For every night," you sighed a little breath full of aching gratitude. "For being my friend."

His lovely dark eyes widened and his lips parted and suddenly you found yourself raising up on your tip toes to press your mouth to his cheek.

You did it before you could stop yourself and you turned before you could look at him, and you slipped into the quiet house, closing the door behind you just a bit too quickly - so that he wouldn't see, so that your eyes wouldn't give you away.

In doing so, you had missed it.

But the yellow hunter's moon gazing fondly down through the dark, wispy clouds had seen.

It had watched you kiss the boy's cheek. It had watched you hurriedly take your leave. And while you sighed wistfully on the other side of the door, it had watched the boy raise his hand to touch his face, walk back down to the street, and quietly lose the battle he had been fighting all night - every night, in fact, since that first on the cliffside. 

It had watched him fall in love with you.

-Fin-

[yourdarlingness]

✦ Our Life: Beginning & Always ~ themed　NPT

╰　DAY 5 of @rumblepumm ' s event !

NAMES ︙　cove . seashell . shoal . shoaliette . sholiene . ocean . oceanide . lake . river . riverine . aqua . aqua(mu)rette . aquamarine . coralle . coralette . creek . everett . evelyn . eve . teary . tearie . tweary . tearfall(e) . teardrop . poppy . popp(i)ette . poppeine . lee . lily . leslie / lesley . lynn . francine . jackie . ari . aria . arielle . claire . elizabeth . liz / lizzy / lizzie . lizette . elyssa . elysia . reagan . noe . lain . macy . baxter . bax . baxley . barley . oakley . alexander . oliver . ollie . spade . mono . vince . victor . vincent . vinny . chester . derek . darren . dylan . daryl . darcy . darlene . devon . jaime . jamie . james . jay . taylor . harper . ash(e) . paula . pamela . pauline . miranda . randy . marissa . margot . sage . faith . melissa . terry . alex . robin . radley . marshall . max . chase . jeremy . archie . jayden . jonathan . misery . miserine . miser(i)ette . kyra . kyla . kylie . kyrelle . kier . sydney . chantel(le) . eleanor . shiloh . scout . asher . willow . adam . scott . jude . jade

PRNS ︙　sea . wa / wave . sea / shell / seashell . sea / foam / seafoam . sea / bun / seabun . wae / water / waterfall . pud / puddle . su / surf . ae / aqua . tea / tear(y) . shy . cry . fi / fish . swi / swim . co / cor / coral . pop / poppy . li / lily . da / dance . ste / steps . rhy / rhythm . mo(e) / mono . wa / waltz . fe / fetch . fri / friends . mie / mis / misery . si / silly . lo / love . ado / adore . he(a) / heart . 💧 . 🌊 . 🐚 . 🦈 . 🦑 . 🦞 . ⛴️ . 🚢 . ⛵ . 🎹 . ♠️ . ♣️ . 🖤 . 🎧 . 🎵 . 🎶 . 🎼 . ⚽ . 🏈

TITLES ︙　the alluring mermaid/merman/merperson . the heart of the sea . the [x] / prn who was washed ashore . prns graceful/tidal wave . prn whose soul is pure . the [x] with a peaceful life . prn who surfs . the lady / maiden / [x] of the deep sea . the one who sets sail . the [x] in the sea of stars . prns aquatic adventure . the [x] in coral reefs . prn who swims with fishes/sharks/etc (any aquatic animals) . the [x] of the blue waves . the seashell collector . the master of waltz . the born dancer / prn who is a born dancer . the ballroom dancer . the divine dancer . the charming dancer . the Victorian-era emo man . the one of all smiles . prn who is monochromatic . prn who moves flawlessly . the dancer of arts . the one with conflicting feelings . the [x] whose story begins . prns prologue . prns beginnings . prns start of dreams . prns opening acts/chapter . the [x]'s new beginnings . prns new chapter . prns divine plot twist

[x] — any nouns　;　examples below

the angel who was washed ashore

the ghost whose story begins

the boy of the blue waves

sorry that its long :3

[queersrus]

astronomy witch theme

(nick)names:

astra, astro, astre, astera, astel/astelle, astella, ariel, aura, aurora, aurore, aure, aurelie/auralie, auralia/aurelia, atlas, aristar, aries, altair, astreaus, aether, apollo, apolla, artemis bila, boreals, boreal comet, cosma, cosmic, cosmo, celest/celeste, celestia, celestio, callisto, calypso, Cassiopeia, claudius, caelum, caelus, cassio dusk, dawn estel/estell/estelle, estella, elera, elio, esther, eclipse, eclipsa, eclipso, eostre, eos galaxy, galactica, galactico, galactix, galactic, galacta, galaxius hecate/hekate, helios, hemera, hera iris, ira juno, jupiter, janus kepler, keyra/kayra lune, luna/loona, lunar, luno, lunette, lyra moon, moona, mars/marz, miranda, meno nova, nix/nyx, nox, nuit pandora, pallas, pulsar, pollux rhea stel/stell/stelle, stella, steller/stellar, star, stella, stary/starie, sol, soleil, solar, solette, solina, solana, solace, solstice tian vesper, vega xian zorya

surnames:

astra, ayla, airy, array, aquila, antlia estrela/estrella, eddington, eridanus kepler, kuiper herschel, halley, hale, hypatia, hevelius drake starcatcher, starwatch, stargaze(r), starlight, scorpius, spellman Cassiopeia orion ursa delphi, delphius pictor fortune le fay/fe/faye nightingale, nighwatch, nightmoon moon brightmoon gloom, gloam

titles:

the witch of the stars, the witch who studies the stars, the star watch, the astronomer, the witch, the astronomer witch, the stellar witch, the witch who knows the sky, the witch of the night sky

(prn) who knows the stars, (prn) who studdies the stars, (prn) who knows the magic of the stars, (prn) who practices witchcraft in starligh, (prn) who studdies magic by starlight

1st p: i/me/my/mine/myself

si/star/stars/starself sti/stell/stellars/stellarself ai/astre/astros/astroself ai/astronome/astronomy/astronomine/astronomyself wi/witch/witches/witch's/witchself wy/witch/witchs/witchself ci/conste/consteli/constellations/constellationself mi/magi/magics/magicself

2nd p: you/your/yours/yourself

sto/star/stars/starself sto/steller/stellers/stellerself astro/astr/astrs/astrself astro/astronomer/astronomers/astronomerself wo/witcher/witchers/witcherself co/consteller/constellers/constellerself mo/magicr/magicrs/magicrself

3rd p: they/them/theirs/themself

star/stars, sta/ar, star/stary, stary/sky, stary/night, star/light stell/stella, stell/a, stel/la, stell/steller, steller/stellers, stellar/stellars astro/astros, astro/astronomy, astro/nomy, astro/nomer, astro/astronomer, astronomy/astronomys, astronomy/astronomer constellation/constellations, constell/constellation, constell/ation wit/ch, witch/witches, wit/witch, wi/witch, witch/witchy, witch/craft, witchcraft/witchcrafts magic/magics, ma/gic, magic/magical

[notbadforafailedvessel]

Batcina AU - Part III

Part I, Part II, Part IV

This is technically the last part I've planned for this AU since I want to write others. However, if you want to see a particular scenario for this universe, you are free to request it!

It takes months for Alcina to have the possibility to go and do what she actually wants instead of following an agenda that isn't hers.

She had been surpised when, at her return, didn't find the castle in shambles. It felt too good to be truth so just to be on the safe side she had made her way to the other Lord's home. Thankfully with her abilities, she didn't need to interact with them directly to find out if they were alive.

Nevertheless, Alcina decided that the best thing to do is to tell Mother Miranda what had transpired in the last weeks. The only thing that Alcina doesn't mention during her tale is you.

She doesn't want Mother Miranda to know about you for some reason, even when she usually tells her everything.

Mother Miranda comes to the conclusion that Alcina must have killed a decent amount of humans to cause an impact into their plan, big enough to make them retract for the time being.

However, not risking it, Mother Miranda still decides to warn the other Lords about a possible future attack. She knows how humans can be and she doesn't want to lose any of her pawns before she achieves her goal.

Alcina tries to focus on her daily tasks, to go on with her life, but she finds herself lost in thought often, thinking of you, wondering how are you, if you remember her from time to time.

Whenever she realizes what she's doing, she gets annoyed, scolding herself for such weakness.

She might have forgive you and grant you an amnesty so you wouldn't face your demise anytime soon, but that was it. You aren't anything especial, just a human that apparently isn't as awful as the ones she was used to.

Even so, the only thing that is able to distract her from you entirely arrives a few days later, when Mother Miranda gifts her with three corpses and the free card to experiment with them.

It's not unusual for her to experiment, very early on Mother Miranda told her it was going to be one of her duties, but Alcina is the one who looks out for the specimens for it.

Alcina achieves something different this time, and the day she brings them back to life, as mutant humans and not the monsters she usually creates, and her eyes met three pairs, you come back to her mind.

"Is this how it feels caring for someone? It is what they felt while I was under their care?"

She has a purpose now though, so she dedicates enough time to nurture the girls she now calls her daughters, to teach them they were a family and always protect each other and their home before finally giving up to whatever she's feeling instead of trying to ignore it.

And the only way to get the answers to her questions is forcing them out of you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

In retrospect your life has not changed and nothing bad has happened to you but you simply can't get rid of the unhappy veil that has fallen on you.

There's nothing you can do about it though. Aware it's a mourning period that would pass with time and you simply have to try to be patient with yourself.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, causing you to frown because it's not as if you received visits. You don't have friends nor family and whenever a knock was heard, it rarely meant anything good for you.

You stand up to open the door though, knowing it could be worse if you don't, depending who was on the other side.

You face an off-white wall that is shifting softly, and shamefully, it takes you until the clear of a throat to realize it's a person.

You know right away who is after that, and such knowledge speeds up your heartbeat.

Living in this village, you are not a stranger to Mother Miranda and the Lords. You know villagers revere them though you have never being a devouted.

You are aware is mainly out of fear not because they respect or accept what they practice, though there were some exceptions.

But the first and only time you've seen Lady Dimitrescu on the town (before your isolation), your first thought had been "I can understand why some villagers are so devoted, I wouldn't mind worship her."

Her unique height was what draw your attention and fascinated you, but you weren't blind, she was an incredible attractive woman.

Despite the admiration you feel for her, you are apprehensive for the visit. What could you have done wrong for her to come look at you in person?

You have heard what people said about her and the other Lords, the comments whenever you had to go down to the village and even tough you weren't fond of believing rumours just because, you did notice the disappearance of some people over time.

You never actively cared though. Why would you feel bad for the people who never show any kindness to you after they labelled you as a freak?

Deep down, you even considered it like the Universe has sent you a dark guardian angel to punish them for the way they treated you.

"L-Lady Dimitrescu." You bow shakingly. When you straighten up, you look up to make eye contact, not wanting to offend the lady in any way though perhaps what you were doing is much riskier.

Golden eyes are already waiting for yours, and when they lock, you feel a shiver while a familiar sensation washes you over, which confuses you because you two have never had eye contact.

Alcina is convinced that this time when you look at her, your eyes won't reflect the tenderness and affection she had gotten used to. The prospect bothers her but she knows what to expect from a human. So she's is totally taken aback when it doesn't happen.

There's caution in your eyes but not fear, and a glow that makes her feel warm.

You swallow slowly. "It's an honor to have you here, my Lady." You have no idea what's the reason for it, but you are sincere.

Alcina's lips part slightly but she holds back the gasp in the last second. That was different. In her bat form, when you referred to her like that, playfulness covered your words. Now, your voice was full of awe.

All her plans for how this encounter was going to occur suddenly vanished from her head.

She frows. Maybe she should go back to consider your dismiss, it would definitely make things simpler. But the simple idea of killing you, upsets her. "What's your name?"

You blink with bewilderment. Why is she looking out for you if she doesn't know who you are? "[Y/N], my Lady."

Lady Dimitrescu nods once sharply, looking at the surroundings as she tilts her head up regally. "I'm here to thank you for taking care of me a few months ago."

The words don't make any sense to you at first, but when the Lady makes eye contact with you again and the sensation of familiarity repeats itself, your eyes widen with realization.

Alcina smirks, pleased to finally have the upper hand in your interactions instead of the other way around.

When you are capable of react from your shock, you notice Lady Dimitrescu is walking away and without thinking, you head into her direction, doing the most stupid thing you've ever done in your entire life when you are close enough.

You don't count with the strength to make her stop but Alcina stops when your fingers wraps around her wrist, most likely taken aback by your gall.

Torn between amaze and annoyance, she regards you questioningly.

Aware that you are pushing your luck, you let her go, fidgeting with your hands. "Are you okay, my Lady? There is not any aftermath after the attack, is it?"

Alcina's stance softens and she wonders if you are ever going to stop surpising her. "I healed perfectly. Thanks to you."

The words make you blush and it's a sight Alcina relishes so she reaches out to brush your cheek with her thumb, deepening your redness.

"I just did what anyone would have done, my Lady," you whisper.

"We both know that's not true."

You know she's right. For most people it's easier to 'put a creature out of their misery' than taking the trouble and time of look after someone in need.

"Yes well, many humans suffer from a lack of brains." You normally keep your thoughts about people to yourself, so you cover your mouth with both hands when you realize you spoke out loud.

Lady Dimitrescu blinks once, twice and then laughs.

It's a miracle you remain standing when you feel your legs tremble due to the heavenly sound.

The Lady's reaction gives your the courage to ask, "Would you like some tea, my Lady?"

Alcina caresses you other cheek with an amused smile. "All right."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A routine develops between you two where Alcina comes to visit you at least once a week.

Since your cabin is too small for her to enter, you keep your meetings in the garden just like the first time. Reason why you started to give more attention to it, wanting to look adequate for your Lady, even though she had never mentioned anything to make you think she wasn't pleased with the place.

Lady Dimitrescu asks you questions to know you better and you are pleasently surprised that she allows you to ask too. But there's a line that's unspeakable even though you have never put a boundary ─ she never questions about why you live so far from everything and you never ask about the rumors.

In your case it was because you were certain having a confirmation or a negative wouldn't change things in any way.

You never know the day Lady Dimitrescu will come, but by now, any sound you heard from outside, you expect it's her.

Unfortunately, when you step outside, you encounter a group of men. You are able to recognize some of them but not others.

"Ah, none other than the freak. I should have imagine we wouldn't be so lucky to get rid of you definitely."

A man breaks through among the others but you don't need to see him to know who it is. You'll recognize that voice anywhere since it was the person who started the verbal attacks against you.

It only took a wrongful accusation from his daughter's part for him to start some sort of vendetta.

"You know her?" The man that seems to be the leader since he's at the front of the group asks him without looking away from you.

You grimace which makes your bully laugh. "Every town has a freak, though it seems we were blessed with more than one," he said sarcastically.

"A freak?" He scrutinizes you up and down. "Does she has any connection with her?"

"I think we all agree that that woman is an abomination but at least she has enough class to not get involved with this tasteless thing." He spits on the floor towards your direction.

Are they talking about your Lady? The words they are using are the last you'd use to describe her but it's more than clear that you don't have anything in common with these people.

"There might be a solidarity between freaks," a new voice from the group adds, followed by hoots of support.

"Lady Dimitrescu is not a freak." You know it's stupid to intervene. It's you alone versus at least ten men who only needed the label from one of their group to consider you unnatural and therefore an enemy. But you can't stand there listening them talk about the woman who has showed more interest and caring in you than your own race without doing anything about it.

If you die, at least there's going to be a reason for it.

And by the wrathful looks you receive, you know that's the only possible outcome. There's no opportunity to escape. Even if you are fast enough to go back to your house, it'll be easy for them to break in with the weapons they carried.

The only thing you lament is that you won't spend more time with your Lady.

Alcina is halfway from your house when she focus her hearing on you.

It has become almost instinctively for her to jump from hearing her daughters to you during her days to reassure herself everything's okay with each of you.

It amuses her the contrast between her daughters and you ─ where they are chaotic and loud, you are quiet and calm. Two very different spectrums with the power to soothe her.

However, she notices there's something wrong in an instant, noticing your apprehensive heartbeat followed by a scream that puts her on edge.

She turns into a bat to shorten the distance faster and she's back into her human once she visualizes the cabin, arriving at the moment you are struck on the cheek, hard enough to make you fall onto the ground.

She sees red.

Whenever Alcina fights, she's focused and centered, almost looking like she's involved in a violent dance. Not this time. She's nothing but walking wrath who slashes whatever comes in her way. Her only goal is to get rid of the filth who was foolish enough to come bother you and put a hand on you.

She doesn't want to stop and ask questions, people like that don't deserve a chance. And even though she would have preffered to take her time and make them regret what they did and beg for forgiveness, she wants this over as quickly as possible to make sure you are okay.

After the first hit, you were expecting the next one. There's a graze that makes you shrink on yourself but it doesn't go further.

You remain motionless until the screams startle you and make you look around anxiously.

The commotion only lasts a couple of minutes but it's tricky for you to understand what's happening since you can only see a white blur and the men falling, one by one, to the ground in pieces.

Only when silence falls and Lady Dimitrescu stops moving, her extended claws dripping blood and even a bit of human remains, you finally understand.

Your dark guardian angel indeed.

You don't care she's covered in blood, not bothered what you had just witnessed. You stand up shakingly, the sound drawing Alcina's attention in your direction, who retracts her claws, hoping she hasn't traumatized you for life.

There's a brief moment of hesitation and concern from Alcina's part while you two make eye contact before you run towards her, throwing yourself at her and your Lady is swift to catch you in her arms, pulling you against her body.

Your arms wrap around her neck and you bury your face in the crook of her neck.

You are safe. You know it, and not only of this dangerous situation. You know that now there is someone in your life who cares for you. Someone who is willing to kill for you if necessary. For the first time in years, your body is able to recognize it too, relaxing entirely, which brings tears to your eyes that you are not able to hold back for so long.

"You are safe now, dragă. I'll keep you safe now." She reassures you, closing her eyes as she hugs you and nuzzles the side of your face, needing the comfort of your presence.

You sniff, tightening your arms around her while you nod. You suddenly chuckle. "I saved you first and now you saved me." You pull back to look at her but without breaking the hug. Not that Alcina would have allowed it since her hold doesn't falters.

She smiles amused. "Indeed we did." She turns serious. "Though I would definitely prefer if we can avoid these situations as much as possible." You remember the terror your felt when you saw your Lady about to be devoured by an owl and you nod. You don't want her to feel that way again, imagining that's what she felt. "Which is why I want you to come live in the Castle with me and my daughters."

Even though your eyes widen, you are not surprised. You know Lady Dimitrescu is proprietorial, you have noticed it in her bat form and it wasn't any different in the human one.

She sees you as hers. You don't know her what exactly but you are okay with the idea of being hers.

You look at your cabin, expecting to feel some sort of dread at the idea of leaving but it doesn't happen. The truth is that after today's invasion, the place feels stained and the idea of staying here alone doesn't thrills you.

Looking back at Alcina, you remove one arm from her neck to caress her jaw softly. Your eyes showing your adoration.

You have never initiate any contact with her, even when you were desperate to do it. She's always the one doing it, prompted by the way you blush whenever she does it. Now that she has allowed it and it looked she was okay with it, you don't want to stop touching her.

"Of course, my Lady. It will be an honor." You smile at her before burying your face back in the crook of her neck.

[theofficersacademy]

Miranda has arrived!

Welcome back to the Officers Academy!

Please make sure to refollow the Masterlist and all your fellow colleagues. All of your previous possessions have been returned to you so that you may continue to grow towards your true potential.

May the Goddess light your path.

- Mod Ree

[saiyan-of-fairy-tail]

Part 3

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