#harsh mentors in fantasy

[joncronshawauthor]

The Dark Mentor: How Tough Teachers Shape Fantasy Heroes

The wise, benevolent mentor figure is a fantasy staple. Think Gandalf or Dumbledore. But modern fantasy increasingly embraces darker mentors, those who shape protagonists through trauma rather than wisdom. These harsh teachers don’t guide heroes toward the light. They push them into darkness to forge them into something new. Dark Mentorship in Guild of Assassins My novel Guild of Assassins…

[lettersfromaphrodite]

[11.11]

― pairing : Chris x Fem! Reader ― content warnings : wolf AU, Chris is a wolf, reader is a witch, soulmates, medieval settings, unprotected sex (wrap it up y’all), fantasy au ― word count : 3.939

― notes : this fic looks familiar?it is! I’m reposting ALL my works on this brand new blog and therefore please, bear with me! as always, askbox is always open and feedbacks are always welcome 💌

🐺🔮 WOLVES! STRAY KIDS SERIES

Chris part one | part two // Changbin // Jisung // Hyunjin // Seungmin // Minho part one | part two // Felix // Jeongin

Quickly spinning on your heels, you hastily hid yourself behind an oak tree, your heavy cape hugging your frame and its cape successfully hiding your face from the woods' prying eyes. “Damn King going on a hunt when I need to gather herbs,” you thought, annoyed. With a harsh tug, you freed the part of your dress that was stuck in a lump of roots near your feet, an annoyed whiff escaping your lips.

«Gowns are impractical.» your witch Mentor told you, many years ago. «Unpractical but stylish.» you justified yourself, back then.

“I should have listened to that old lady,” you thought to yourself, as you quietly started to make your way back home; truth was, you only considered a dramatic change of style as occasions like this happened. After all, you were a powerful witch, you could wander anywhere without fearing anyone; you only needed to be quick and stealth during those few times where you roamed in the King’s territory to gather few of the herbs you needed for your spells. Sharpening your ears, you took the hint to move once again, trying to be as quick as possible to finish your task. Your basket was almost completely full of everything you needed, and haste suddenly became your best friend, since you knew that the King and his men would be back soon and you needed to get back home quickly. You were not banned from the King’s territories, in fact, you have been requested many times to work as a medic for the Castle, but you always refused, answering that you did not want to be part of the King’s domain. You were a witch, and your Mentor had always taught you that witches only belonged to the Moon and answered to the laws of nature. Witches could never belong to a King, trapped inside a Castle.

Small, pained whines caught your attention, and you froze in your steps, trying to identify where those noises were coming from; those complaints definitely seemed not human. Drawn by a strange force, you changed your original direction, your feet walking towards those little cries almost as if something was steadily pushing you towards that way.

«Oh, no.» you whispered, catching the attention of the creature –a large grey wolf, which immediately sapped its head towards you, big and inquisitive red eyes staring back at you with a wary snarl.

Your brows furrowed, wondering what to do. Wolves and witches had never been on good terms, but how could you leave it to die? Your eyes shifted on its form, laying on its side, grey fur covered with blood, which slightly pooled around its frame.

“Screw that,” you thought as you swallowed loudly, slowly placing your basket on the floor, and taking a hesitant step closer. The wolf growled at you, still wary of your presence, and you halted your steps once again. You knew it could not attack you due to the amount of blood staining its side – you deduced that it was a quite big wound, but nothing guaranteed you that the wolf would not try to bite you as soon as you were within its reach. You were enemies, after all.

«Okay, I-I’m not trying to hurt you,» you lift your hands, taking off the hood on your head, so that the wolf could see that you were not challenging him, in fact, your eyes never once tried to hold its gaze, «I know you don’t understand human language, but I want to help you.» you said, sincerity transpired through your voice, and since his growl momentarily stopped, you took it as a sign to get closer.

For a single second, you thought that maybe, just maybe, the wolf understood what you said, but that thought disappeared from your mind as soon as, kneeling next to its side, you hesitantly touched its grey and bloody fur, drawing your hand back as the wolf whined again, painfully. To your dismay, it was indeed a large wound, and judging by the look of it, it must have been pretty deep, too. Your shoulders fell in dejection, you could not heal the wolf using a spell, it would take too much time and neither of you were safe out in the open; you needed to take him to your house to treat him back to health.

“It must have been the King and his men,” you concluded, “may Artemis curse them.”   You were never particularly fond of wolves – you basically grew up both fearing and despising them due to your mutual and unmotivated hatred, but you couldn’t stand how humans decided to make a ricreative activity out of something like hunt.

«I’ll take you to my house to heal you. However… I fear the way back won’t be comfortable for you.» you mumbled the last part, getting back on your feet and untying your cape by the small, neat ribbon in the middle of your collarbones. The wolf was still cautiously looking at your every move, and you ignored him, carefully spreading your dark green cloak on the ground. The wolf was far too big and far too heavy for you to lift it up and carry it all the way to your cottage, so you decided to move it on your cape – with extreme difficulty, so that you could at least half drag, half carry it. Your eyes flashed golden as you casted a spell on the both of you, making the wolf’s weight partially non-existent and also, that any human that crossed your way back would not have seen you. It took you a lot of effort and all the strength you had in your body to walk back – your basket full of herbs obediently floating in the air and following the both of you.

You made sure to be as careful and attentive as you could, trying not to worsen the wolf’s wound and stopping as soon as its whines seemed more painful. A part of you wanted to wonder why the wolf seemed so obedient and less wary of you, but the part of you focused on getting home unharmed had the upper hand.

Your cottage was not particularly big; in fact, it was quite humble to belong to a powerful witch. You could have had any house you wanted and yet, you decided to settle there: two floors, grey and uneven bricks, a large garden around the perimeter of your house – part of it served as a small vegetable garden, everything surrounded by a wooden fence.

It was humble, but it was fairly distant from both the woods and the closest village, and you loved it.

You dragged the wolf’s still whining frame – which you found out being a he, all the way to your house. Your forehead was sweaty, your body completely ached, you most definitely needed a bath, and you were sure that your cape was definitely damaged, but still your main thought was to check his wounds, since the fear of them being infected made way into your brain.

Your eyes flashed golden once again, and some pillows and blankets re-arranged themselves on the floor near your small sofa, in order to create a bed large enough for him to be comfortable.

Carefully, you laid the wolf on the makeshift bed, taking a deep breath and slowly stretching your arms in the vain attempt to get rid of the ache and soreness on your limbs. Absently, you kicked the bloodstained cape out of your reach, and quickly knelt next to him. You took another deep breath, aware of the wolf’s red eyes plastered on your face, watching your eyes flashing golden once again as you casted spells, once after the others. Next to you, immediately made their appearance a small basin full of steaming water with a white cotton cloth immersed in it, you reached out to the tools in mid-air, focusing on the wolf’s wound.

«This is going to hurt, please don’t bite me.» you mumbled, barely above a whisper, unaware that he heard you loud and clear. You carefully began to wash his wound with slow but firm strokes, your heart skipping several beats anytime he whined and writhed in pain. Trying to be as delicate as you could, you meticulously wiped away all the blood, the steamy water in the basin now of a reddish colour, and once the wound was clean enough, you quickly stood up and walked towards you small kitchen, hastily creating an herbal compress using your marble mortar and pestle.

What you feared the most ended up being the truth: the wound was infected. You massaged a side of your temple; you have never felt so stressed in your whole life. The wolf’s life at this point was completely in your hands. The wound was too big and infected to heal by itself.

«Okay, big boy. It’s gonna hurt – like, a lot.» you dared to look at him in the eyes, feeling a random sensation in your stomach, but didn’t gave it any importance as you kneeled once again next to his side and coated your fingers with the herbs, slowly spreading the medicine on his would while casting a healing spell. Although you were completely focused on what you were doing, the wolf’s painful whines raised goosebumps on your skin.

You closed your eyes, running a hand through your hair and trying to ignore the sensation of exhaustion spreading around your body, and as you also tried to ignore the headache you got anytime you used too much magic in so little time, you felt a tentative bump against your skin. Your eyes shot open, and your gaze locked with the wolf’s big, red eyes. He repeated the action, nudging his nose against your knee, noticing how the emotions behind his eyes definitely shifted from wary to gentle, almost as to say “thank you”, and you let out a short, breathless laugh as you erupted into a wide smile.

«It’s still infected,» you hesitantly reached towards the cotton bandages floating next to your head, «But at least, you won’t die.» you muttered to yourself as you proceeded to create a tight bandage around his side.

Once you finished, your brain finally took notice about the huge grey wolf now asleep in your living room, and you decided to take a hot bath and get a nice change of clothes. Your new provisory bed became the small sofa right next to the peacefully sleeping wolf, so that you could check up on him every now and then.

A week passed pretty quickly, and you most definitely ended up giving up the majority of your sleeping schedule in order to watch over the wolf – not like the strained howls coming from the woods nearby would have let you sleep anyways. The fact that he was not conscious most of the day worried you more and more, not to mention that the infection had not yet gave any sign of healing despite the herbs compresses and the continuous use of magic.

What surprised you, was that anytime the wolf was conscious, he seemed to somehow search for your presence. If you were kneeling on the ground, busy with his bandages, he would place his large and fluffy head on your legs, making you giggle because, «don't be silly, how am I supposed to heal you like this?» Therefore, he would just nuzzle his nose against your thigh and settle for placing his paw above one of your legs. It was not an unpleasant feeling, instead, something about it made you feel warm, somewhere among all the concern you were feeling.

You’d still spend your days with your nose buried in all the books in your house, some of them scattered on the floor in a disordered way, desperately looking for a way to definitely help him.

As your Mentor always taught you, infections irredeemably lead to fever, and the wolf’s fever irredeemably led you to one of the biggest scare in your life.

You woke up around the middle of the morning due to a loud noise of bones cracking right next to you, and you opened your eyes just in time to see the big and grey wolf you have been treating for over a week, shifting into a brown haired boy around your age.

Needless to say, the loud and shocked scream that instinctively left your lips woke him up, and to your surprise, instead of threatening red eyes, your gaze was met big, brown and confused eyes.

«Y-You!» you shrieked, unable to move due to his head still on your lap. The boy, which you just realized being stark naked, groaned, reaching over to rub his face with his hand.

«Chris.» now, you didn’t expect his voice to be so… Beautiful.

«What? Who is that now?!» you tried to keep a calm voice, frantically moving your gaze around the room and trying to look anywhere but the boys’ toned and pale body.

You felt him chuckle, «It’s my name, witch.» he mumbled, his voice strained due to him still being in pain. «My body shifted back due to the fever, I’m sorry.»

You stared at his face as he slowly shifted around, laying on his back and turning his head so that now, his nose was almost pressing against your navel.

Before you could even think about a proper answer, he doze back to sleep, mumbling a soft, almost inaudible «thank you.» before falling back into unconsciousness.

Mindlessly, your right hand reached out to gently caress the other’s brown hair – a gesture that you did quite often with his wolf form since his grey fur was so incredibly fluffy and relaxing to caress, as you stared into the void for several minutes.

«He’s a werewolf,» you mumbled with a frown, the fingertips of your left hand carefully hovering above his features, «and he’s hot.»

Chris eventually shifted back into his wolf form within the next hours, and you tried to ignore the loud noise of bones cracking, since it seemed really painful.

The routine fell back into normal, even after the shocking news. A blush would sometimes cover your cheeks anytime the random thought of him having a human form crossed your mind, but you focused on his infected wound, which luckily started to heal.

Chris managed to spend at least half of the day awake now, and your spells were finally more effective than they were before. Your magic mixed to wolves being able to heal faster, resulted in Chris spending a bit of the day in his human form, and you being incredibly flustered about it.

You grew up with your mentor witch, who was a woman; the only boys and men you have ever met were the villagers, but you have never been alone with a boy, let alone having one inside your house and, well, completely naked. You resolved the matter quickly, giving him a blanket and excusing yourself for not having clothes that suited his body. Chris just shrugged, thankful for being alive in the first place.

«I’m not going to lie, witch.» he spoke in a soft, tender voice as you helped him sitting on the wooden chairs of your kitchen. «I literally owe you my life.» You laughed loudly at his statement, sitting down in front of him on your small wooden table, after placing two plates full of food in front of the both of you.

«Indeed you do, wolf.» you answered with the same tone, playfully pointing a wooden fork towards him. «I hope I didn’t grow white hair due to all the pent up stress and lack of sleep.» You mumbled, more to yourself. «Even if I could definitely embrace the title of “scary, lunatic witch”, now.»

An unexpected and melodious sound naturally drew your eyes back to his face, making you almost drop your spoon. Chris was chuckling, his eyes closed in two crescent moons and his mouth tightly closed as he kept chewing his food, but yet his smile was incredibly cute and the dimples that framed it contributed to make him even more handsome.

«How did you manage to end up like that?» you asked, clearing your voice, secretly hoping that by changing the topic the blush covering your cheeks would have faded, and your quickened heartbeat would have slowed down.

Chris sighed, heavily, «Me and my pack were on a hunt, we stumbled upon some hunters which had… Enchanted weapons.»

«And they just left you there on your own?» You asked, incredulous, watching as Chris nonchalantly shrugged before answering you.

«Alpha’s orders are pretty absolute, you know.» he explained, politely smiling as you got up from your chair, collecting both your plates and spoons and casting a quick spell so that they’d wash, clean and set back into their place by themselves. You noticed Chris watching in awe your eyes flash golden once again, and questionably raised an eyebrow at him.

«It’s cool,» he immediately explained, «Your magic, I mean, it’s pretty cool.»

You smiled at him, before shaking your head. «You can shift into a wolf, I believe you’re the cool one.»

Butterflies erupted into your stomach as Chris’ dimples showed up again, beautifully framing his wide smile.

Even if Chris’ wound was healing, you still did not move back to your bed upstairs. Instead, you would rather spend your days talking to him, both of you occasionally sitting on your sofa facing each other. You tried to confront Chris about why even if you were supposed to dislike each other due to centuries of mutual hatred, you got along pretty well and anytime, Chris would brush it off, adverting his gaze with a nervous laugh and saying that he really had no idea. He did not convince you at all, but you let it go.

«Do you think they’ll come looking for you?» your hands brushed against Chris’ ribs, as you changed cleaned and disinfected the wound once again. You were both sitting on his makeshift bed, a blanket covering his crossed legs as he obediently kept his arm in the air, so that you could easily finish.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him nod. «They most definitely will. We recently started living nearby, so it won’t be too hard for them.» the goosebumps on Chris’ skin anytime your hands brushed against his skin definitely didn’t go unnoticed.  «I could still come visit you, sometimes.» he added, tentatively.

Hearing his words, you felt once again that familiar sensation of unexplainable warmth, wondering why in the world could seven words even made you happy, your heartbeat soaring because “Yes, I’d love to see you again”.

«The feeling of falling in love is very like the feeling of fear. Your heart beats fast. Your senses are heightened. You grow light-headed, maybe even dizzy. Be wary of it, young witch. It might make you immensely powerful, it’s true. But, it might also mark your downfall.» you briefly lost yourself in thought, as you recalled what your Mentor had once told you. You did not notice how the arm that Chris was obediently keeping in the air eventually lowered, until he took your hand in his.

With hesitant, gentle movements, he silently kept his hand on top of yours, guiding it above his heart, your wide eyes meeting his soft gaze. His heartbeat was matching yours: rapid, wild, fearless.

Chris’ soft gaze was locked with yours, his gentle and warm eyes giving you the confirmation that he knew you were falling for him, and he was falling for you, too.

You breathed out a sigh, your eyes glued together and shy smiles plastered on your faces. As if you were magnets, your lips eventually met, slowly, tentatively. Chris firmly kept your hand above his heart as he other snaked around your neck, weakly gripping your nape. You and Chris kissed like two distant lovers meeting after painful lives spent looking for each other. You could feel his soft breath against your cheek, helping you realize that it was real, and you balanced yourself, placing your hand on Chris’ naked shoulder as if it was your only anchor to reality. The kiss was soft, almost shy. Chris would giggle against your lips anytime your noses brushed together a bit too roughly, and you would giggle along with him, before kissing each other again, feeling already intoxicated and addicted to his soft lips and warm skin. Chris pecked your lips once, twice, before placing your foreheads together, your fingers now interlocked above his heart.

«I don’t want to sound cheesy or anything, but,» Chris unexpectedly raspy whisper broke the silence. «I knew you were the one as soon as you found me in the woods.» he smiled, rubbing your foreheads together as he was met with your confused expression «Wolves just know who they are supposed to spend their life with.» he mumbled. You lips met, parted, and met again for countless times that night.

Sunny spring days were your favourite. The weather was not too hot, the wind would gently blow and most importantly: laundry would dry quickly. The amount of covers and blanket you have been using to create Chris bed was insane – you did not even know why you owned so many blankets in the first place.

Lost in thoughts – wondering if using your magic to collect the blankets instead of doing it manually, you definitely did not realize that a pack of wolves made their way towards your house, not until, as you collected one of the blankets from the clotheshorse in your garden, you suddenly faced a large, black and threatening wolf.

You instinctively shrieked, the wolf’s deep red eyes staring into your soul. It was like a deja-vu, but now the wolf had a black fur and by his side appeared another black wolf out of nowhere, but its eyes were mismatched: one was deep blue, and one was yellow.

The more you walked backwards, the more they followed you while growling menaciously, as if they were on a hunt and you were their prey. With the corner of your eyes, you saw more of them, and as you were about to cast a spell to stop them, you heard Chris’ authoritative voice.

«Oi! Why don’t you stop scaring my mate?» Chris was leaning on the doorway, a blanket hanging loose around his hip and white bandages hugging his stomach. «Changbin, Hyunjin, back off. Now.» You were still hugging the blanket close to your chest, as you saw them obey immediately, lowering their heads and putting a reasonable distance between you and them.

Chris’ arm draped around your shoulders. «I hope you have seven spare blankets.» he told you, an amused giggle on his lips.

«Why would I need more blankets-» the question died in your mouth, as they began shifting in front of you. Seven naked boys took place of the seven threatening wolves, and your gaze immediately shifted to Chris’, as your eyes flashed yellow and immediately made blankets fall over their heads.

Chris laughed loudly, kissing your forehead. «Do you want to meet them?» as you answered with a shy nod, he raised his voice, «Come on, boys, let’s go inside. Family meeting.»

“I’m gonna have to do the laundry again.” You sighed, and let Chris walk you back inside.

As your eyes met, you both erupted into shy giggles, and Chris pressed your body closer to his, affectionately kissing your temple.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

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[canmom]

Animation Night 188: Gisaburo Sugii and his cat films

Let me introduce you to a fellow.

Gisaburō Sugii, born 1940, is one of the oldest school animators still working in the industry. His early filmography is something like a history of anime, or at least MushiPro: he started on Hakujaden [AN149] (where he did inbetweens), but he was one of the leaders of the Toei exodus over the rubbish working conditions and union busting (Sugii's close friend Rintarō was among the first to follow him), especially when Tezuka appeared on the animation scene with a place to land.

So from the earliest days of Astro Boy/Tetsuwan Atom, Sugii was a core Tezuka guy. (Thanks as ever to Matteo Watzky for presenting such detailed histories in English!) He helped clean up Tezuka's rough animations in an early form of the layout system, moving to his own satellite studio, worked on all sorts of projects. In fact, we saw a number of them when we watched Tezuka's short fims on Animation Night 83. For example, Sugii animated the moth in Tales of a Street Corner.

Before too long, Astro Boy was wrapping up, and the time came for Sugii to direct his own series: this was Goku no Daibōken and in the words of Matteo Watzky, it represented "a complete and unconditional rejection of everything Mushi - or rather Tezuka - had done so far" - gags over story, extremely limited animation. Adapting Tezuka's manga version of Journey to the West, the project had some rather grand ambitions:

It was rather in the writing and direction. Sugii was extremely ambitious: not only did he want to do a complete break with what Mushi had done before, he wanted to broaden the general “animation culture” in Japan [14]. He therefore focused entirely on the gags, trying to make them all as absurd as possible and breaking all sense of narrative continuity. This was the reason he had chosen Boku no Songoku in the first place: the road trip structure made it possible to completely change the setting each episode and make things different each time [15]. He refused to compromise on anything and was an extremely harsh director: he himself admitted how many conflicts he had with scriptwriters and storyboarders, whose work he kept rejecting until it had lost any semblance of sense or continuity [16].

Goku no Daibōken's story touches on another major figure of anime history: Osamu Dezaki (AN95) appears here as an episode director, though you'd likely not recognise his work - he closely followed his mentor Sugii's wacky style. Unfortunately, the show did not really do much to broaden anything, and was pretty roundly rejected by audiences, and even Tezuka himself publicly said it was too avant-garde and needed to change and the show ended up a sore memory for everyone involved.

But Sugii did not quit, and continued to work with the increasingly ailing Mushi Pro up through Belladonna of Sadness (AN69). This last-ditch effort was not enough to save the troubled studio (a story told elsewhere, check Watzky's articles for a very detailed version) and MushiPro went under. So, coming into the 70s, Sugii left the anime industry to go travelling.

But not forever.

Now, let me introduce you to a book.

Night on the Galactic Railroad (銀河鉄道の夜, Ginga Tetsudō no Yoru) - written in 1927, and published posthumously in 1934 - is a classic Japanese fantasy novel by Kenji Miyazawa in which two boys go on a strange journey across the galaxy. It soon becomes apparent that the train that the boys ride on is kind of a psychopomp train. It has that fascinating blend of early science and odd religious overtones you often get in novels from the early 20th Century, with such themes as the difference between Buddhist and Christian ideas of heaven, as well as all sorts of odd adventures.

It does not star anthropomorphic cats. But then again, it doesn't say anywhere that its characters aren't anthropomorphic cats, right? If you're Gisaburō Sugii, that's enough!

In the early 80s, Sugii returned to Group TAC, a studio largely consisting of former MushiPro staff, full of memories of travel. He started out directing adaptations of the baseball manga Nine, but soon he ended up directing an cataptation of Night on the Galactic Railroad, which came out in 1985.

Jokes aside, the book is deliberately ambiguous about what its characters look like, so Sugii came up with the cat thing as a way to preserve Miyazawa's intent. His approach to direction heavily emphasises the landscape, embedding the characters in dark spaces that reflect their feelings and build the generally omnious mood as they journey into death. And it works! The result is a film widely regarded as a classic by those who've seen it.

One notable feature is the film's fascination with the constructed language Esperanto, among the earliest aspiring universal languages. The film features all kinds of Esperanto text and an esperanto subtitle track, and even has an alternative Esperanto title, Nokto de la Galaksia Fervojo. This was a fascination of Miyazawa's, though I don't believe it features in the novel particularly prominently, but Sugii evidently wanted that to be part of the tribute...

In the wake of that, Sugii... went back to directing sports anime, this time the series Touch about Tennis, as well as a number of other projects including a Street Fighter film in 1994. He didn't abandon literary subjects though, adapting the Genji Monogatari, a foundational work of Japanese lit, in 1987 - though I can find little more about this adaptation. He even directed a Lupin III film! But none of those films are about cats, so we're gonna skip right over them.

In 2012, Sugii - now 72! - returned to books and cats with The Life of Budori Gusuko, adapting another novel by Miyazawa - this time at MushiPro successor Tezuka Productions. The animation is certainly more elaborate...

The film follows abandoned child Budori Gusuko in a world frozen by strange storms. Left to fend for himself, Budori's problems mulitply as his sister his kidnapped, leading him on a journey into dreams as he tries to get to the bottom of all of it.

The story is notable for anticipating the idea of the greenhouse effect, albeit in a way that rings rather odd in the context of present climate change. It generally doesn't seem to be viewed quite as favourably as Galactic Railroad but it's too good a thematic pairing not to do, so tonight the plan is to watch both films! Elaborate old weird anime, we're so back. And not a boob in sight, so twitch should chill out.

All being well, Animation Night 188 will be starting at 22:00 UK time, which is about two hours from this post - we're back on twitch.tv/canmom, thankfully they didn't ban me for long. Hope to see you there!

[bionicle-ramblings]

Writing a little something for @crystaltoa for their fantasy AU. It's also been on my head a lot😅

Matau was not the type to exactly go to other regions, as his own was perfectly fine. He only ever left it because something he needed for trading or work was there. Being outside of his region and traveling was also benefit he enjoyed.

What he did not particularly enjoy were the knights, both in and out of Le-Metru.

By all means, Matau could outrun a knight; they wore their heavy armor and sometimes ran slowly to stay in groups. He wore no armor, or at least armor that slowed him down, and he was a gnome. One of the smaller beings that existed in the land, but that only made him harder to catch.

He reasoned as such when he vaulted off a wall before a knight could grab him, leaping upward until he was racing across rooftop after rooftop.

"Ha!" He proclaimed. "Nice work-try, pesky knights!"

One of the knights growled. "Follow him! Don't let that thief get away!"

Matau climbed onto a chimney to catch his breath. "Thief? Sneak-thief? ME!?"

While it was true Matau had a precious stone in his satchel, he didn't think it was stolen.

How could I steal something if no one was around to claim it?

An arrow flew past him, barely grazing his ear.

As more knights reloaded their bows and crossbows, Matau sprang off the chimney and leapt from building to building, ducking and dodging arrows as they were fired at him.

Matau looked over his shoulder to see if any more knights were around him, if they were either behind him or rounding buildings to try cutting him off.

It cost him when his foot slipped off of the roof and sent him tumbling downward and into a large chimney.

Smoke and heat met him as he fell.

It was followed by a harsh landing on cold charcoals and a scream, and then the clattering of metal falling to the floor.

And the man who screamed, a blacksmith, remained where he stood, only picking up the tools he dropped even as Matau pushed himself up and cringed at the dust he was covered in.

"Ugh. Gross-nasty." Matau saw the human and cleared his throat. "Someone forgot to brush-clean that."

The man's brow furrowed, either from confusion or from finally processing what was happening in the moment.

The door to the shop was banged on, making both Matau and the human jump.

"Royal guards! We need to search your shop!"

"Stupid, pesky knights," Matau hissed under his breath.

The human looked around the shop and quickly scooped Matau off of the ground.

"Hey!"

"Stay quiet!" The human murmured before practically throwing Matau into a large vase that held bars and rods of metal. "Stay down."

Matau glanced at the door and nodded, shimmying to hide himself more.

The human quickly tidied up his shop and took a breath before opening the door.

The knights stood on the other side, along with the dwarf he had been the apprentice to.

"Sirs," he greeted with a nod. "Nuhrii."

"Good day," one of the knights greeted back. "So sorry to you and your mentor, but we need to check your shop."

Hopefully just for rats and not a gnome.

He gave the knights a confused, albeit cautious nod as he stepped out of the way and opened the door wider.

The knights filed in and began searching the shop, alarmingly careful in their search so nothing would be damaged.

Many simply pulled open any drawers that they could, opened cabinets, boxes, even looked up the chimney Matau had fallen down, taking note of the scattered coals and dust.

One of them stood by Nuhrii, examining one of the swords that needed a guard and hilt. "Impressive work," he noted. "Yours?"

"My apprentice's, actually," the dwarf said grudgingly.

One of the knights searched behind a shelf of tools and gear, close to the vase.

Nuhrii nudged him. "Show some manners. Introduce yourself."

One of the knights turned their attention to the vase.

"Vakama," the human said, trying to remain calm. "My name is Vakama."

The knight examined the blade closely, checking for any warping or damage- not that he would find any. "You've learned well from your mentor."

Vakama bit his tongue as he saw the knight dig through the vase, waiting for the moment they would find and drag out the gnome hiding inside, and then arrest Vakama with him for "harboring a criminal."

Instead, the knight stood straight. "Nothing," they reported.

Around the room, the other knights echoed, "Nothing."

The knight standing by Nuhrii huffed. "Damn."

Vakama hid a sigh.

"Thank you, both, for your time," the knight said as his group marched out of the shop. "If either of you see anything, be sure to report it to us."

"Yes, sir," Nuhrii replied.

"What were you looking for?" Vakama asked, feigning ignorance.

Nuhrii glared at him as the knight answered, "That's none of your concern. Just a thief we've been having trouble with."

"We'll keep an eye out," Nuhrii said before Vakama could think of responding.

"Much obliged. Good day, you two." With a nod, the knight turned and left the shop.

Nuhrii wheeled around to face Vakama. "Do you know anything of this thief?"

Vakama shook his head. "No, sir."

"Are you lying to me?" The dwarf asked sharply. "I'll know of you are, and having your apprenticeship stripped would be the least of your worries, boy!"

"Of course I'm not!" Vakama protested. "What reason would I have for lying to you or knights?"

Nuhrii glared at him for a long moment before sighing. "Fine. I'll take your word for it." He turned to the door of the shop. "Get back to work," he said, opening the door to let himself out, and then slamming it shut behind him.

Vakama took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "That went well."

"It went sure-fine."

The human jumped and quickly turned.

There was Matau, sitting on the mantle above the fireplace and examining a dagger.

Did he teleport there? Turn himself invisible?

Vakama only picked up the sword he'd been working on, now cooled from being out of the forge, and a hammer. "I wouldn't stay long, if I was in your place. They might come back."

The gnome gave him a doubtful look. "Might. I'll be far-gone by the time those stupid knights look here again."

"Let's hope you are, when that happens, Matau."

Matau blinked before standing, beaming with pride. "My reputation precedes me! Yes, I am Matau! Have you heard of me thanks to talk-stories from Le-Metru?"

"Not exactly," Vakama admitted. "You wouldn't believe me, if I told you."

"Try me." Matau vaulted off the mantle and landed in Vakama's shoulder. "I've been far and wide on ever-great adventures! I would believe anything you say."

"Even if I was lying?"

Matau froze, smile gone for a moment before he smirked, sitting down.

"I think I like you, human," he said, eyes narrow and on Vakama's face.

Vakama carefully moved Matau off of him. "What were they after you for anyway?"

"I'm not sure," Matau said with a shrug. "But they're not cheer-happy that I have this."

The gnome reached into the satchel he wore and pulled out a stone, one that glowed green from within and was translucent as if it was carved from glass or a gem.

Vakama crouched down to get a closer look, brow furrowed. "Where did you get this?"

"The street."

Vakama eyed him dubious.

"What? I did!" Matau barked. "Someone must've dropped it and they didn't come back for it!"

"And you didn't think to try and return it?"

"I didn't see who dropped it."

Vakama stood and walked to one of the drawer sets in the shop. "You wouldn't happen to know someone named Lhikan, would you?"

Matau screwed his face for a moment. "I know OF him, but I don't KNOW him. Why?"

Vakama turned back to him, holding something in his hand:

A stone, similar to the one Matau had in his possession, only it glowed red from within.

"He gave this to me and told me to keep it safe."

[wyldblunt]

It is I, the previous anon unmasked. I have questions about the Mordrem Daimhin post: what caused them to give in to Mordy :0c

(the mordrem dav post in question, since i'm answering this late!) OKAY SO.... i initially intended for this to be a quick doodle answer but then as i started chewing on it i realized to answer this question i have to talk about. basically dav's entire life story. and i'm incapable of brevity. so oops, here's an illustrated essay about daimhin's entire life story?

let's talk it out. let's start with this.

let's say you awake a valiant of the wyld hunt, entwined with another -- same day, different cycle. you wake up promptly at midnight, go straight to his pod and sit outside it. he takes his sweet fucking time, sleeping WAY in, and only finally ambles his way out a few scant seconds before daybreak, yawning.

you've seen the same things, and neither of you know what any of it means; none of the images in your entwined dreams seem to actually crystallize into a task. but you glimpse a symbol that matches one day on a banner, find out it's the emblem of the order of whispers, and know that must be where you need to go. so you start training.

he trains half as hard for twice the results. he cares half as much and gets twice the rewards. there was an assumption, when you first woke, that the two of you would stay in lockstep forever -- you must be absolutely equal, if you share a destiny -- but it doesn't hold true for even a moment.

(of course, you don't know he feels the same exact way about you; you don't know about the gnawing bitterness, the envy, that you can learn anything by trying hard enough, while he feels hopeless about anything that doesn't fall within his raw talent. he hides it well, and you never ask.)

he makes it into the order on his first try. but they don't want you.

you're devastated. he's not. "there's no time limit," he says, breezy as always. and it's not like he'd leave you behind.

but it takes two more years. two years, for you to hone yourself into something the order of whispers wants. as little as donner ever seems to care about the hunt, how can he suppress the itching it when it comes, the agitation? how can he outrun the resentment, when you're holding him in place?

you don't talk about it. you just keep your head down and work harder. the fear of his impatience morphing into contempt is a stronger motivator than anything else you've tried so far.

when you get through, you get through, and then, finally, it feels like you'll be rewarded -- because almost immediately, you run into the next symbol from your dreams. the dark and terrible thief, towering, wreathed in smoke, and FINALLY things are going right because he takes a professional interest in you immediately, mentors you, assigns you to his own personal task squad (and this, alone, is enough to make up for everything you've suffered so far). but.

holding the lightbringer's attention is difficult; pleasing him is impossible. to impress him? a complete fantasy, one you can't even daydream about for too long without hurting your own feelings.

this is when everything was meant to even out, and instead you're competing again. not just with donner, either; even with the stupid necromancer he already had, the one who can barely keep herself alive and seems to have NO formal training whatsoever.

worst of all -- as humiliating as it is to put this particular juvenile grievance into words -- he doesn't even seem to like you.

you keep your head down. you work harder. if anything, that makes it worse; the squeaky wheel gets the oil, after all, and you never make a sound.

then he replaces you.

("no, he didn't," donner insists, one night shortly after merrit's introduction, when you're complaining about it; "replacing you would be if you were kicked out of the squad. there's just a second mesmer now, that's all.")

but that's not all. you're watching.

it's not even that glyndwr is any less strict with the new mesmer, any less harsh towards her; but he's attentive. at times, he even seems concerned about her. you hear him call them his "charge," once, to one of his contacts at the vigil; he has only ever called the rest of you his "agents." the first time he slips up and calls them his son, you realize the enormity of the gap between you.

and it's incomprehensible. you have learned, quickly, that merrit is cowardly and self-absorbed. his mesmerism is disorganized, improvised, unflattering, concerned only with survival. he takes the easy way out in missions, over and over, always without hesitation and seemingly without shame; worse than that, he seems baffled by your disapproval when you confront him about it.

donner can tell how unhappy they make you. maybe that's why he's always so cruel to them. you're selfish enough not to do anything about it, to even be a little pleased by these scraps of locker room vengeance.

you keep your head down. you work harder. acceptance of your position grows around your ribs and down your throat like a strangling vine.

eventually, you're all dispatched to maguuma.

it's horrible, but so was orr. it's lonely, but so is everything else in your life. but the commander is twitchy, agitated, scattered. he jumps at shadows. he lashes out at comrades. is he thinking about what his behavior brings on all your heads, when he acts like this?

is he thinking about you when rytlock brimstone calls him a liability, and he snaps entirely?

obviously not. because after brimstone bests him and spits in the dirt, calling this outburst just another piece of evidence --

he leaves.

he leaves you here.

he leaves you to die in the fucking jungle.

("no he hasn't," merrit insists, even though she's been crying and panicking just like the rest of you. he goes on and on about how it's not fair to call it abandonment, about how it must be part of some greater plan, all that bullshit, and now even damage can't stand him and there has to be some scrap of satisfaction in that, that you're not the only one who's sick to death of the commander's precious favorite, but there isn't, there's just--)

this can't be him. this person cannot be the one who took up so much of your dream, the one who's supposed to be your destiny. unless that's all your dream was ever meant to be. can a wyld hunt be so awful? can your purpose be to die horribly, thousands of miles from home?

(until now, you have been very, very good at ignoring the call.)

(it hasn't known you well enough to tempt you.)

but... couldn't it be, that the commander's role in your story is now complete?

maybe this is exactly where you need to be. and if so, he brought you this far, safe and sound.

you can forgive him for this. after all, how could he have known...? how important it was, how vital, to bring--

[burnorgetburned]

recent image reminded me again of something I noticed from Rebellion: how isolated Homura is.

This is her own fantasy world. It’s what she, in her deepest heart and dying moment, wants the most. Here she can make herself into the version that she wants to be: she can be Madoka’s best friend! The senior magical girl! The wise mentor figure that everyone finally listens to!

Homura can’t imagine herself being that, though.

Instead, she makes herself the transfer student - again. An outsider. The girls are already an experienced, established team by the time she even “arrives” in Mitakihara. They kindly invite this new magical girl into it. And she’s not the centerpiece of the team. She’s an extra power, useful to the other girls, but easily excluded if they feel like it.

That’s not the only time she secludes herself from them too. In the opening I can recall her doing this three times: once in that scene where it starts with Madoka and then adds the other girls, and they run around each other in dresses. She’s there standing at the end, waiting for all of them. The screen cuts away before any of them reach her in a way it doesn’t for the other girls, even though they do start to try and greet her. And then again while they’re all dancing and she’s kneeling on the ground.

Finally, there’s that long shot starting with the water and the drowned buildings, presumably from Walpurgisnacht. Mami and Sayaka are in a boat, and they smile at the “camera”. The camera rushes through them, and Kyoko turns around and smiles at the camera too. And, of course, it ends at Madoka, who reaches her hand towards the camera with a kind expression on her face.

We immediately cut to Madoka and Homura standing in an empty space, and it becomes apparent that Homura is the “camera”, not pausing to look at her friends smiling at her, but stopping to try and take Madoka’s hand. Only for Madoka to turn into dust. Because the person who is most kind to her, who again and again chooses to trust and care about her as we see in the series no matter how she acts - she’s not there anymore. She’s as good as dead. The other girls are kind, but they don’t reach out to her the same way Madoka does.

This is of course not their fault, because god knows their lives get harsh, but it doesn’t change the fact that Homura is just. Too traumatized and socially maladjusted to reach out first. Madoka gets through to her so easily because Madoka tries to see the best in her, so she gets past Homura’s awkward hairflips of anxiety that look really freaking arrogant to people who can’t read her and don’t have the motivation to try. She gets past Homura trying to use intimidation and Homura going quiet because she doesn’t know what to say, which, again, makes her look inscrutable and. just bad.

In the end of Rebellion, we see her going full throttle on the exclude herself part again. This time, consciously and intentionally. We see Mami walking to school, and Homura shattering a teacup. We see Kyoko try to share an apple with her Clara Dolls, and the apple dropping into the water, wasted. What do Mami and Kyoko use to befriend people in the series? Tea parties and sharing food. Homura has surely befriended/been befriended by those two plenty of times, since we see her achieve it with Kyoko and know immediately that she should eat the pocky given to her. So this is her, consciously, rejecting their friendship.

What hurts even more is the part with Kyoko. Why does Kyoko drop the apple? She sees the Clara Dolls waving at her, asking for one. Parts of Homura’s subconscious, asking for resources. She smiles and gives one over. Even before this, Kyoko was feeding some of Homura’s bird Familiars. When she drops the apple, though, we cut to a clear shot of Homura shaking her head while the apple floats.

The apple drops - into the water. The Clara Dolls are gone. Kyoko looks shocked. She couldn’t even keep feeding Homura’s birds. All of them fly away.

Homura’s subconscious asks for help. Homura sees help and shakes her head, rejecting it. Homura doesn’t let herself ask for help even when she desperately wants it (wanting it so desperately that her Familiars act it out even when she consciously tries to stop them). She’s already learned that asking for help doesn’t result in receiving help. After all, what has trying gotten her in other timelines? Disbelief. Anger. Confusion and hurt. Sometimes she gains allies (like in Kyoko), but most of the time even allies become unreliable. So she’s learned that she doesn’t know how to properly ask for help, and if she gets it, people will turn on her.

In the end, she finally has the power to address the root cause of their distrust. The Incubator, who primed other people to dislike her (something something “maybe she doesn’t want Madoka to contract because she’d be too powerful as a magical girl and she wants this territory :3”) and their resource shortage of the limited Grief Seeds, which made people fight by its own nature and eventually introduced the truth of Witches. But when others try to help her, she can’t accept it because she’s so primed to be afraid of it.

It’s part of the tragedy of Homura Akemi. She didn’t have the tools. She didn’t have the background to make connections without Madoka first reaching out to her in the 1st timeline. She didn’t have the social skills for convincing the other girls of hard truths of magical girl life. She could never make a support system strong enough to stop Mami from killing people in her despair (and I’d argue that even great social skills wouldn’t solve their resource shortage, so the best she could ever do is stop Mami from killing people. We see in other materials that Mami would often kill herself). She relied on Madoka for help with forging connections with other people, and when she got that help, she’d get so attached to everyone that it hurt her badly whenever they died. Whenever they learned the truth and it broke their hearts (she says explicitly that it hurt when Mami learned too much). It also must have hurt whenever she had to reset and then the other girls stopped caring about her.

The really awful part about the magical girl system is that grief - mundane, everyday emotional pain - starts to darken their Soul Gems. So when Homura makes friends and loses them, either to death or the loops, it darkens the Gem. Whenever she may try to learn social skills and inevitably fumbles, and the other girls interpret this as intentional, it also darkens the Gem. When she makes them her enemy. When she tries to drive Madoka away. When she’s isolated by the truth of everything. When Madoka Wishes to help other people - especially her. I would say that she can’t treat any loop as a practice ground because she’s too invested in Madoka, meaning that treating any one loop as disposable means treating that Madoka as disposable too, something that she obviously can’t accept. So she invests her all into every loop and loses, and it damages her even further.

On top of that, there’s a malicious immortal unending alien chucking everyone into deadly situations. There’s other magical girls who occasionally butt in (Oriko…). There’s timeline variance. There’s Walpurgisnacht. It becomes an unending tide of resource management except the resources are souls, friends, and her own emotional wellbeing. The failure state is a fate worse than death. The holding pattern is the endless loops, which does chip damage to her Soul Gem and already abysmal social skills by way of trauma anyway. She learns to keep this at bay by distancing herself. But in doing so, she does long-term damage and makes the other girls distrust her even more.

I honestly think there was no way in hell she was ever going to survive. Either she lost in the loops or she would lose afterwards. There was so, so much stacked against her. She learned all the reasonable ways to survive her loops which are absolutely the wrong things for her long-term health, but how could she think of the long term when the danger is right now? She learns to never rely on people (who by the way are fucking primed to oppose her… another post on that later) and all the wrong lessons for continuing on after the loops. When her crutches for surviving are knocked from under her, she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t freaking ask for a therapist, she’s a magical girl! She can’t rely on Kyoko and Mami when she has no evidence of what she went through! She seemed actually suicidal by the time of Rebellion, and I don’t think that it was her Witch talking. Or the needles puncturing her Soul Gem(?!?! Which more people should talk about? Holy shit).

This is why I genuinely think that both the anime ending and Rebellion’s ending are necessary for Homura’s story. A lot of people seem to think that Rebellion makes the anime ending useless, but I don’t think that at all. First, Witches are gone. This is a big one. Witches are genuinely the most isolating thing in the Incubator’s system, because the girls who know have to step on eggshells around girls who don’t know. Homura keeps this “Witches are gone” thing and only switches the Grief-collection system to using Incubators, which remove two of the many obstacles preventing the Quintet from wanting to help Homura. I doubt that Homura has the omnipresence to respond to every magical girl ever as they turn into a Witch because she is said to use her Familiars for gathering information, and her Familiars can’t be literally everywhere. That’s what Madoka’s Law of Cycles is for, and it’s something that Homura keeps. We also see that it’s possible for people (Madoka and Sayaka) to fully remember all of the timelines, and those shared experiences lead to understanding. Sympathy. Most importantly, less isolation.

If everyone regains all of their memories, could they see what Homura suffered through? Could they convince her that they can help? The resource shortage is gone. Witches are mostly gone. The Rebellion’s system is a system that allows all of them to grow. They stop being so utterly isolated. They can stop hurting each other. They can help.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to improve people's lives?

I've been told that it is possible to make an entirely anonymous inquiry on this blog. I do hope that is true.

I have been entrusted with a position of great responsibility on my planet. I try my very best to remain attuned to my people's suffering, wants, needs, grievances, and regrets. I hold in my heart only the purest of hopes for them; all I wish is to grant them eternal, unshakable, everlasting happiness and joy.

Unfortunately, the harsh reality is that there is no such thing as a harmonious, peaceful life. Not within the confines of reality itself. Resources are scarce, suffering and struggle is all too common, and one cannot even consent to the conditions under which one is born. As such, I have concluded that it is cruel, harsh, and unreasonable to expect the people of this world to live under these conditions.

I have meticulously maintained a truly safe space, away from the pains of reality, under the guidance of my mentor, whom I see almost as a father. In this space, there is no suffering nor illness, no poverty nor worries— only satisfaction and safety.

...Or, that's how it should be. Even now, the bitter resentments of reality manage to leech their way into this beautiful space. No matter how dutifully I work to stamp it out, there will always be such things brewing in the shadows. Even here, in this beautiful land of dreams, there remains those who would trick and abuse the weak, those who would exploit and oppress those with nowhere else to go. I have heard many accounts of this... and nothing I have done seems to resolve this filth. The only conclusion I can come to at this point is that it is purely human nature, human ego, which is propagating this need to induce the suffering of others.

As such, I have come to a conclusion with my master. Together, we shall ensure that this beautiful world is able to flourish and prosper for eternity. I shall sacrifice myself, personally, to the role of maintaining this sweet fantasy for everyone else. Under my gaze, there shall be no more suffering, no more misery or oppression, no more vile acts under the name of human will. Only the perfect image of peace and order. Everything, and everyone, in perfect equality and bliss.

My only hesitation... is that my sister does not agree with me. She seems rather horrified by the idea, clinging to naive ideals of "freedom" and the meaninglessness of a "false reality." But what she falls to understand is that not everyone is granted the privelige to thrive in reality. There are the disabled, the impoverished, those without friend or family, those who are hunted by their past. For the terminally ill who only have but a few days of life remaining, can you really say it would be better spent in "reality," where they will merely die slowly and painfully in near isolation, instead of a sweet dream in which they can do all they ever wished?

My dream is to grant a safe haven, a pleasant and worthwhile existence, to those who suffer endlessly due to "reality" itself. A benevolent refuge, away from the oppressive nature of free will. There is a difference between a meaningful existence and the distasteful tragedy of anarchy— the lack of order and regulation cannot be what gives life its "meaning," for what then of those that are trampled by this anarchy itself? A lack of order is an order in and of itself: it is simply a hierarchy founded on strength and brute force, in place of benevolence, kindness, or compassion for others.

But... I do waver somewhat, knowing that my sister holds such distain for my ideals. My hope is that one of you kind voters may be able to explain her frustration to me better than she could. She is incredibly dear to me, and I would like to resolve this as soon as possible, such that we can remain on good terms once my New World is established, and we can see one another's point of view more clearly.

Many thanks for your time.

[- submission by @spaaaaaaaark-uwu ]

[bookreviewcoffee]

Review of the book "Ninth House" by Leigh Bardugo

*Ninth House* is a dark, captivating, and intriguing story by Leigh Bardugo, known for her fantasy novels. But this time, she offers something entirely new—a grim thriller filled with secrets, occultism, and magic, set against the backdrop of one of the world's most prestigious universities, Yale. This book immerses the reader in a world where ancient secret societies coexist with modern student life, creating an atmosphere that sends shivers down your spine.

The main character, Galaxy "Alex" Stern, is a girl with a troubled past who has been given a second chance at life. After tragic events that nearly cost her her life, she unexpectedly receives an invitation from the mysterious "Ninth House." This house is not just an ordinary student organization but a secret society tasked with overseeing the magical rituals conducted by the eight other Yale societies. Becoming a member, Alex dives into a world of secrets, dangers, and the supernatural, where magic is not just fantasy but a real force that shouldn't be taken lightly. But when a mysterious murder takes place on campus, Alex realizes that her role here is far more dangerous than she could have imagined.

Bardugo raises serious questions about power, corruption, and the price people are willing to pay for their ambitions. The book explores the darker sides of human nature, unafraid to showcase them through the lens of magic and the supernatural.

Alex Stern is one of the most memorable characters I've encountered recently. She is far from a perfect heroine: rough, sarcastic, and stubborn, yet incredibly vivid and real. Her inner struggle and attempts to reconcile with her past make her especially engaging. Darlington, her enigmatic mentor, adds a special charm to the story with his old-fashioned gallantry and deep knowledge of magic.

Leigh Bardugo masterfully creates a tense and dense atmosphere. Her descriptions of the Yale campus come to life on the pages—from dark libraries to mysterious basements where sinister rituals take place. At times, the text is rich with details and flashbacks, making the reading experience engaging but demanding of concentration. Bardugo has managed to create an incredibly convincing world where ancient rituals intertwine with modern reality. Yale’s secret societies, with their dangerous rituals and hidden secrets, come alive on the pages, turning the university into a labyrinth of mysteries and intrigue.

"Ninth House" is a book that pulls you into its dark yet mesmerizing world. I found myself reading late into the night, unable to put down the mystery that surrounds every page. Alex is a character who stays with you even after you've finished reading. Her struggle to find her place in this harsh world evokes genuine empathy. At the same time, the book doesn't shy away from showcasing cruelty and darkness, making it more mature and serious than typical fantasy.

"Ninth House" is a dark and gripping journey that will appeal to those looking for something more than just fantasy. It's a story of magic, power, and secrets that can cost you your life. Leigh Bardugo has crafted a book that holds you captive until the very last page, leaving you eagerly awaiting the sequel.

[detective-inspector-her]

You said you wanted prompts, so 57? [dragon riders]

Dragon Riders AU

I hope you realise that I'm spiraling and making a fantasy AU next to Mer AU and Fae AU now. I need an off button.

Stephanie watched in awe as dragons flew over her head. One dragon, larger than the rest and adorned with a striking skeletal pattern across its gleaming hide, locked eyes with her. It beat its wings with such force that a gust of wind swept her off her feet, sending her stumbling back from the cliff’s edge. She scowled and tried to give chase, only for Fergus to pull her back.

“Don’t even think about it.” He said with a growl. 

Stephanie frowned at him, “I wasn’t actually going to do anything.”

“You were going to jump on a dragon’s back.”

“What? Noooo…” Her uncle threw the hunting gear at her and walked back into the forest, expecting her to follow close behind. 

He was right.

Just this one time.

Later that evening, she proposed an idea to her parents. “I want to travel.”

Her father stopped eating and looked up at her, “What?”

Stephanie nodded. “I want to travel. Be an adventurer, you know—fight monsters, explore ruins, the whole deal.” She grabbed a weathered notebook from the table and slid it toward her parents. “I’ve taken notes and everything. Totally prepared.”

Her mother put her spoon down and seemed to go into deep thought. “You are defenceless.”

“I’ve been training!”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have any companions.”

“I’ll bring a chicken or something,” Stephanie replied with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

Her mother didn’t smile. “Stephanie, you’re twelve.”

Stephanie scoffed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “That didn’t stop anyone else.”

Her mother frowned, “Stephanie I understand why you want to leave. We know you don’t feel like you belong here. But this village is safer than wherever you want to go. I promise you that is the truth.” Stephanie clenched her fists on the table, but before she could argue, her mother picked up her spoon again, a gentle finality in her movements. “Why don’t you enrol in the training camp? They teach you how to defend yourself, how to survive.”

“Because, Mum,” Stephanie said, her voice tinged with exasperation. “The camp teaches things like how to build a house, how to hunt, how to sell stuff in the market. I already know that! I’ve been joining the camp every year since I was six. I’m more of a mentor than the mentors are!” She turned to her father for support, but he merely inclined his head in reluctant acknowledgement, as though conceding to her point. “Please,” she added.

Her parents exchanged a look and sighed.

“Stephanie,” he began, his voice steady but lined with something that hinted at a hidden worry, “you’re right about one thing. Children leave the village all the time. It’s... what’s expected. But you need to understand something.”

Her mother leaned forward, still firm. “Once you leave, there’s no guarantee you’ll come back. It’s not like the stories in the books or the songs. The world outside the village is harsh. Dangerous. We don’t have magic, Stephanie, we’re powerless. That puts us in more danger.”

Her father’s lips twitched as if he wanted to say more but held back. He picked up his fork again, the gesture slow and deliberate. “It’s not that we don’t understand. We were once young, too.” He paused, a flicker of something far away in his eyes. “But this village has kept its promise for generations. It protects us from things we cannot even begin to understand.”

Her mother sighed, “The few children that do survive and return to the village are never the same again, they’re changed and they can’t return to the innocence they wish they still had. We’ve seen friends go through it and eventually… we never saw them again.”

Stephanie stood, “Maybe I want to change!”

Her father leaned back, a mischievous grin forming. “Well, there’s a fine line between changing and turning into a feral cat, you know. You don’t want to come back hissing at your mother and knocking over her prized flowerpots.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. “That’s not what I meant!”

“This village may seem small, but it has its own magic. You could learn about the herbs in the glade or the stories in the library. Why not explore what’s right here before venturing into the unknown?” Her mother asked.

“Because I’ve explored all of it!” Stephanie protested. “I want to discover the unknown, not just read about it. What if I find something amazing out there? What if I learn things that could help our village?”

Before she could speak, her mother stood up, her shoulders tense. “I don’t want to argue about this anymore tonight,” she said, wringing her hands as she walked toward the door. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Stephanie watched, her face going red in frustration. Her father sighed, standing up and coming to her side. He gently sat them both down on the edge of the table, leaning close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Alright, let’s say I’m okay with this little escapade of yours.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened, a flicker of excitement igniting within her. “Really?”

“Kid,” he said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder, “I know you want to go out there and see the world. You’ve got that spark in your eyes, just like Gordon, just like my granddad. But you’ve got to know... the world doesn’t always play by the rules of the stories. It’s messy and complicated, and it doesn’t always give you a happy ending.”

“But that’s what makes it worth doing. You can’t live your whole life doing something you don’t enjoy. Then there’s no point in living!”

He leaned back, shaking his head with mock disbelief. “Honestly, you might be the only one in the village whose idea of ‘adventure’ is setting the entire town on fire. Forgive me if I don’t completely trust you to handle yourself.”

A week later, Stephanie was peaking out from the bushes and watching the same dragon who’d beaten its wings at her before. Her hands tightened around the rope in her hands. She’d show it. If she could tame it, she could prove to her mum that she could travel.

She gripped the rope tighter and crept forward. The dragon lifted its head and locked eyes with her. Stephanie stopped moving and stared back. She couldn’t look away or it’d probably turn her to ash. Not the way she wanted to go. 

A hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder and she yelped, pulling away and kicking out at the attacker. Her fur boots made contact with bone and she hissed in pain before thrashing wildly. The hand left her shoulder, trying to grab her around the waist instead but she threw the rope and tightened the loop when it made contact. An arm wrapped around her waist so she bit the unarmoured hand and heard an unfamiliar curse reach her ears.

A claw pushed her to the ground, the dragon growling in her ear. Stephanie stopped thrashing.

Her attacker sat up with an amused look, “That was wholly unnecessary. But you put up more fight than some of the hatchling dragons I’ve rangled, so colour me impressed.” He unwrapped the rope and rubbed his neck, “Still pointless though.” 

Stephanie looked her attacker-turned-captor up and down. He had his red hair tied back in a low ponytail, showing forest-green eyes and dark freckles covering his face. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. No, what interested her was the full bone armour he wore and the scar across his face. A Necromancer injury from what she could tell, and powerful at that.

The dragon released her and her captor tied her in her own rope before sitting her up, “Why were you after my dragon?”

Stephanie glared at the beast, “He nearly blew me into a tree a few weeks back, I was going to try and ride him.” She paused, “It is a him right?”

The man sat across from her, “Yes, he’s a him. What’s your name?”

“Not telling.”

The man narrowed his eyes, “You realise that seeing as you tried to steal my dragon, I can take you to a guild and they’ll probably pay me for it so they can take credit and put you behind bars.”

“That’s if I have a criminal record.” She huffed, “I haven’t had a chance to do anything yet.”

“I can tell.”

“Well, there’s no need to be rude about it.”

The man shrugged, “I could still drop you off at a guild, you could start your journey there. What do you say?”

Stephanie stared at the man, “Your hat doesn't suit the rest of you.”

The man suddenly looked more offended than he’d been when she’d been attacking him, “You take that back!”

“No.”

“God, you sound like Gordon.”

“Edgley?”

The man stopped glaring, “You know him?”

“I’m his youngest niece.”

“Oh… Stephanie.” The man drawled and rubbed his face, “Of course. You haven’t changed since you were a toddler. You insulted me and tried to ride Bentley then as well. A Mortal.”

Stephanie opened and closed her mouth before rolling her eyes and scowling, “Can you untie me if you know who I am?”

“I could.” The man picked her up and placed her on the dragon’s, Bentley’s, back. “But I think I should return you to your village. Mortals aren’t supposed to leave their towns and villages for a reason.”

“I have permission from my parents to quest.”

“Your parents are idiots if they think you’ll survive on your own.”

“You’re an idiot if you think I’ll stay after you leave.”

The man patted her head and then ignored her for the rest of the trip.

[mlkydrms]

Grounded

🌙 Sorcerer!Taehyung & Paladin!Jimin 🌙 Chrysalis Moon (level 2), D&D AU (Homebrew Setting) 🌙 1900 words 🌙 Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Fantasy, Action(?) 🌙 Warnings: Universe-typical Violence (Fantasy, D&D): Minor Character Death (characters are unnamed and are bandits), Some blood and injuries (as par for this course), Light description of wounds. Panic Attack. Insecurity. NO BETA, cause I'm a silly little lad. 🌙 Notes: terrible action writing...(idk why I try), Aasimar Paladin Jimin, Tiefling Sorcerer Taehyung, Pre-Chrysalis Moon 🌙 A/n: I love this universe but damn I hate that I make myself write some semblance of action. Hope you like it.

Summary:

Close shaves with death are ever so common in such a terrifying world filled with power. If one does not focus, how far can they ever get alone?

[ Past | Master | Future ]

[Read on AO3 instead?]

"You should focus, Taehyung. This isn't a hard spell to master. There is power in your words, remember?"

The crackling in his ears grows louder. The heat in his chest grows colder. There is haze all around him. He can make out a figure in the blur. The shape is familiar to him. The colours are easily recognisable. The voice fills him with a mix of emotions. 

"Listen, my child. The world out there is not as kind, not as gentle as it is here. Now, try this again. With me."

The world is not gentle. It is filled with so much. So many things to see, and do, and experience and none of them as gentle in nature to what he was used to. Taehyung is learning quite quickly that the temple was a safety he took for granted. 

"You must stay focused. You must listen. Don't let your gentleness be a weakness, my little glass chip."

The pet name echoes in the darkening haze around him. Slowly, ever so slowly, what imprints of memory he is recalling is fading away. It is becoming much colder.

"Tae, wake up."

Heat rushes through his body in a second. The searing of his soul fills his body with an electric tingle. His eyes shoot open as a cough rips through his throat. He turns, propping up his body with weak arms. His eyes come to focus. The floor is not the cold marble of his temple. His fingers curl instinctively and dying grass fills his fist.

The absence of weight on his shoulder buzzes the area. Jimin is pulling back their hand and their attention is turned away after making sure that Taehyung is awake. They are in the middle of a fight, in the middle of preserving their lives in the wilds. 

"Stay with me now, dragon. Keep low, keep safe. You'll be alright."

They shoot him a quick smile before stepping forward towards the fight. The soft glimmer of sparkling stars momentarily remains where Jimin was. The sound of metal rings in his ears. 

Taehyung lays back down facing the dark night sky. He rolls his head to look at the action. Everything is upside down. They look like bats fighting under a hay roof. Jimin is swinging their scythe against a claymore a bandit is wielding.

Fighting. There is so much fighting in the world. It is not safe just like his late mentor had told him. It is what they have been trying to help him with. Powers that are held within him are his and for his preservation but Taehyung does not like hurting others no matter how bad they seem. And the more he adventures, the more he thinks that their actions can simply be justified by the harshness of life.

He shakes his head. No he can't think that. Some actions cannot be justified by just that. He hears Jimin's grunt as another fighter slashes at them with a dagger. They're fighting on their own. There is one of two outcomes for this. Taehyung needs to swallow the fact and decide which of the two he makes true.

People die. A daily occurrence. Taehyung will have to take life, as horrifying as the thought is. He knows that his own will be taken if he does not do it. Jimin's would be taken if he remains as he is. It still makes him sick to think this is the only way he could get out of this.

He turns back onto his belly. He raises his hand out towards them. Dry heat rises around him as his mind thinks of the spell his mentor taught him a long while ago. Words, he knows the words. 

'If not for yourself, then for me. Please.'

Taehyung swallows. The words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. His non-stretched hand digs into the grass. His fingers shift the way he remembers his mentor teaching him. He feels the crackle of electricity in his blood pulse.

Jimin swings. Their blade meets flesh. A fighter falls. A different body stands behind them, ready to strike second.

And he focuses, as if hearing their voice again nagging at the back of his mind. He focuses as they have wanted him to time and time over. The prickle travels fast through his arm to his outstretched hand. His eyes lock onto the final bandit in range. He grits his teeth.

Flash and crackle. A sickly green and bronze bolt leaves his fingers. The charge shifts carelessly towards its target. It hits, with a sudden jolt to the bandit. Stray sparks fork out uncontrollably. In a lucky turn, Jimin is untouched by the unpredictable spray.

A shout is cut short from the stop of a heart. The last bandit falls into a heap as the last crackles of electricity turn into small fires in the dry grass. Jimin stands alone beside the tiny flickering flames. They turn their head towards Taehyung. Their glowing gold eyes shift in hue like fire. They step towards the weak sorcerer on the ground.

Taehyung feels a wash of fear and panic dump over him. He watches Jimin emptily. The haggard figure of his friend in the short distance away is trying to remain tall in their posture. Jimin is limping and bleeding and bruised. His friend, his first friend is in this state because of him.

The dark voice of his own worries begin to grow. He takes the blame and accepts it as his own despite not being told that was his fault. Someone close to him is hurt. He did nothing to prevent it. He feels the twist of his stomach that tries to make him vomit. Taehyung gags despite having nothing to throw up. He coughs terribly in the attempt. What remaining magic in his hand fizzles out in a snap.

Jimin lets go of their hold on their scythe. The soft glow pouring out of their eyes stops. Their steps move faster. They are more determined to get to their travel partner that is curling up into himself. They cannot have Taehyung go through this again alone.

"I'm sorry. I should have...should've... I'm sorry." 

He repeats it like a mantra, shaking in place as he sits up. His nails scratch against his arms. A brass scale gets caught against his nail. Taehyung picks at it. 

Jimin drops to their knees and pulls the Tiefling close. They hug him tight against their chest. Taehyung's jewelry is pressed against the stained leather armor. The stench of fresh blood does not bother them.

"Hey there, it's ok. It's alright. You're fine. You're here."

Taehyung tries to shake his head but the Aasimar holds him in place. They continue to whisper in a hushed voice. Taehyung can only listen. 

"You're alright Tae. Listen to my voice. It's alright. We're alright."

Jimin slowly loosens their hold. They shift from an embrace to facing Taehyung towards them. Their hand finds his and pulls it away from picking at his scales. The one that he was scratching at is already half-way through being peeled off his skin. Jimin gives Taehyung's hands a gentle squeeze. The warmth goes through him again. His scratching feels like it never happened.

Taehyung is still mumbling through his apologies. His eyes are still unfocused. Jimin tilts his head up to make eye contact. He is looking at them but tears start to form. 

"Taehyung. I'm here. I'm here, Tae. I'm perfectly fine. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"But I didn't do anything. I didn't help you. You got hurt. I... I just got in your way. I couldn't even try."

The disappointment feels like a crashing wave. The memory of his mentor's eyes, kind yet strict, is ever present in his mind. They tried so hard and yet, their efforts remained in vain. All they have taught is seemingly so useless in his hands. How long has it been since he had seen them? How long was it since their…

The others did not have their patience. Not with Taehyung at least. Never with him. He wonders how backwards it all was. A child like him, always getting into trouble for not meeting up to their prejudices. A young Tiefling too kind, too loving to hurt even a miniscule insect. For that, casted aside not as a devil too hard to control but a child too scared and soft for potential.

If he had continued all on his own, how fast would he have perished, he wonders. All too fast, surely...

"You're never in my way, Taehyung. I know how hard it can be for you in a fight. You're gentle, you're kind. That's ok. This is what I'm here for. I am a fighter. This is not your fault."

Jimin leans forward and bumps their forehead against his. The tip of their noses touch as Jimin closes their eyes. Their hands have left Taehyung's and shifted to hold and steady his head. Caring thumbs gently smooth over the area where Taehyung's horns meet his forehead. 

"You're not alone. You have me. You did great. We'll go through this together. You and me. Now breathe."

Taehyung's breath still stutters. Jimin guides him through taking a deep breath slowly. The seconds tick by as they stay there, not quite far from the road to Echoten. Taehyung comes back to the full reality of where he is. 

Taehyung focuses on Jimin. He reaches up and holds their biceps to further cement himself into reality. He is not alone. Jimin is next to him. An angel entrusted with strength and strength that they willingly give to him. There is no wrong in having fear. There is no wrong in being weak. All he needs to do is stay true to himself. He is not alone, for better and not all worse.

He takes in another deep breath to stabilise himself. Jimin twitches when Taehyung accidentally presses a finger into a wound. 

"Sorry," he whispers. 

"You've done worse,” they try to joke but immediately backtrack their tone. “I'll patch that in a moment. How about you? Breathe a little easier?"

Taehyung nods slowly. They pull away from each other but not too far. Jimin keeps their hands on Taehyung's arms.

The Tiefling pats down his clothes in search of his special trinket given by Master Indrahi. He feels the light bump of it in the pocket of his pants where he last left it. He pulls it out and sighs. A platinum coin with the insignia of his patron encased in glass and brass detailing is still intact. There is a crack in the front of the glass but it is still in one piece. He clutches it in hands.

For me.

Jimin closes their hand over his. They smile. 

For them.

"We're okay. You're here. With me. The gods watch over us. We are protected, by them, by each other. Someday it will not hurt so much to try."

For us.

Taehyung finally takes a proper slow breath in. He feels the warmth of his companion's hands. Jimin is there for him like his mentor was. There is so much Taehyung has to learn in the world. It will be slow for him to truly begin to fight but that is alright. Jimin is right there with him. They are right here to ground him.

[starlightsuncrow]

Finally have a free momence, I was curious what your Starfall is generally about, and how it compares to your GW2 alt universe! And any character differences as well, since you mentioned a few different alts (sorry if you’ve explained this in a post before !)

- @magitechbatt

omg,,,, you want to know about Starfall? Buckle in!! It's gonna be long. I've never got the chance to explain so thank you!! Starfall is an original setting @cheddargoblin and I created, the story's premise is: "Long ago a star fell, and changed the world forever both physically and magically and even in it's current day societies across the world struggle to re-find their place in a world grown more wild and hostile around them."

Medieval-ish fantasy with themes of freedom, change, healing and bonds, a good story about found family and overcoming entirely different kinds of bias and classism.

Gw2 has some shared themes and the setting isn't too far off ! Starfall is darker,cruel though. One big difference tho is Starfall happens mainly in snowy regions! Now onto the characters!

I'll speak about my main two, since the rest are still a big WIP.

In Starfall Crow is an ex-mage hunter who escaped the Guild ( main place where hunters are trained and also big anti mage propaganda between all the things, even if they are mages themselves). In escaping he's constantly hunted, due to being an important figure and...a big weapon that was trained specifically for "purposes" by his mentor. The black arms are tattoos ! Cruel symbol of how many mages you captured/killed and so on. Has to learn to fight his own life of bias and brainwashing to live "outside". He's like a caged dog who finally tasted freedom and will fight for it to death if needed. Closed off with MANY issues, they haven't lost a small spark of naivety and hope though. Big part of the character is the revelation they're a fae ! No, they didn't know it. It's complicated. Hehe's also a "cursed" fae, courtesy of the mentor again. Describing the cursed fae as magical beings who have to survive on blood and magic, since they're made of magic. Without feeding they end being feral beasts who won't ever go back to being sane. They go through addiction and withdrawl usually. He's a fighter and adapts easily, someone give him a break please. He's the struggler but keeps going , a love for freedom keeps him going. Crow in Gw2 is a saltspray who fled from the Jade Wind, searching for a cure or something to help back home. After centuries of disguises he fell into the end of the Inquest and got basically " cursed". Vampirism about blood and magic, for a being like a lesser dragon it's...not fun i'd presume. Got saved by Dragora, lived and learned under Drago's wing and then joined the commander's gang in s2. Revealed their true identity much later during EoD<<< caused some drama. They're Starfall's Crow without the harsh environment they lived in, in gw2 he got a taste of it but not enough to compromise his whole life. Marked by it but doesn't let it control them. He's an exploration of who Crow would have been if he escaped sooner from the Guild.

So both keep that duality of self, same coin, just a little to the side in gw2. Neither of them are too different. Fun story about Cardamomo, he comes from gw2 actually! He's my commander and that's part of his core personality. Never make me think of jokes with characters and pairings because 90% of times they end up happening <<< Cromo happened this way. In Gw2 he's the sylvari commander, a naive and full of wonders sylvari who learnt fast war changes you. Forever.

Cute guy who sees the horrors and comes back angry, frustrated and not much hope and will to fight again, but that's all he knows how to do after all. That's why Gyala and part of Soto hit hard. They're tired, they don't know how to rest. Big trust issues? Or more about they can't let be seen weak and vulnereable. The important thing to know about Momo is that he wasn't Cardamomo at first. He starts as Caoimhe until the Departing. He dies, he comes back. He comes back different. I love the mirror theme so much he IS a mirror. A broken one. Caoimhe died, Cardamomo came back with less memories, some gone forever and a personality made to withstand the trauma just to fight Balthazar. Oops, Caoimhe took too much time to recover and now this commander has two pilots. They're the same guy still! Momo isn't a new different identity, he's more of...some aspects put together to give time to heal. Similar personalities to the point there's no much difference unless you know what to look for ( they have a slightly different behavior and manner of speech). It's like a fragment who learnt to be its own thing, while still following the main purpose of protector.

It's a toughie to describe I'll be honest, if I can finish that fanfic i'm writing maybe it helps understanding it (or i can simply ramble on another post <3) In Gw2 he's a dryad, beings born with a specific purpose ( in this case it's about balance). I'm still working on many details but he keeps the commmander "role" so to speak and absolutely gains the Caoimhe/Cardamomo duality again. Loss is part of his character in many ways too eheh. He's a bit more off putting and warms a bit slower than his gw2 alt though! Playing more on the fact this guy isn't human at all. I've been trying to keep both my ocs' cores for both settings with some modifications but more or less the alts end up being "what ifs" and explorations of a part of the main character that can't be explored easily in the main setting. They aren't as different as I make them sound probably.

Fun fact, dryads and fae are rivals, this didn't stop Cromo happening( one half didn't know, the other didn't care). The main alt i can explain is Dragonheart for Momo! Selkastra ( saltspray is just an appereance change and plays more on Crow being young but still... a dragon) Dragonheart is Momo's champion self? so to speak? That one transformation in EoD but what if we can access to it under circumstances and what if it follows the different aspects too? Otherwordly momo <3 Each aspect affects Momo differently and he acts as consequence too. Physically and mentally. If Aurene is the Prism Dragon, Cardamomo is the prism itself reflecting, each side something different. There's Fae Crow to explain too, but nothing too big changes apart from making him extremely ethereal and fey-like. Not to be mess with, fae are known to bend rules and twist them to their like. Even tho Starfall Fae are...a bit particular. I hope these are enough to answer your questions, which im so so happy u asked!! (it got so long he l p) I'm terrible at summaries but this made my whole day, thank you so much again !! <333

[motheatenscarf]

I keep telling myself I'm being too harsh and that other expansions must have been this slow as well, but actually, no, I'm on level 92 stuff and by this point in EW, the Tower of Zot had been done and in SHB, fucking Holminster Switch had come and gone.

This is just not economical storytelling and the pacing's off.

I was momentarily excited when Gulool Ja Ja summoned up the WoL to meet. The duel was cute and it felt like I actually got to do something, it was reminiscent of the duels with Raubahn and Zenos where the player character is given the chance to just. Have a fun fight for glory's sake and nothing else and revel in it.

I'd noticed that people had been prompting the WoL a lot for their input on how to proceed, but very little in the way of introspection and how they might feel about things or what their motives might be. Which, yeah, actually, that's been a little disappointing given how Endwalker was literally an expansion about, hey, how you feel about things matters, and how Shadowbringers was, hey, why people do things matters.

Like. I don't need the WoL to be the main character or the main focus of the story right now, I acknowledge that Dawntrail is Wuk Lamat's story and our role is, as stated in text, to guide her and mentor her. That's fun! That's new! That's different!

...

Let me do that! There's a difference between not being the main character and feeling like a non-entity in a story. And like. Kinda everybody here feels like a non-entity except for Wuk Lamat. And she's fine as a character, she's just. There's not a lot to her. There are no real flaws that aren't cute or endearing, and like, that's fine, not every character needs to be Oops! All Flaws, Aymeric is one of my favorite characters in this game, but the narrative isn't challenging her and her convictions beyond tummy hurty and alpaca's stinky. Aymeric was STABBED and spit on and had to watch people scorn his name and nearly watched children be murdered in opposition to his dream of peace. He got put through the ringer! Wuk Lamat gets motion sickness and isn't taken very seriously and she feels inadequate when comparing herself to her brothers. Cool. That's relatable, sure, but not compelling. I also get motion sickness and don't feel like I'm as smart as my brother and know that my mom likes him more than me. I'm not the protagonist of a Final Fantasy game! And if I was, I'd hope someone would make that family dynamic the FOCUS of the story at the very least.

Everyone else is like. Why are they here? The twins have nothing to do here. The WoL has nothing to do here. Krile in theory has a quest but she doesn't seem particularly driven or excited about it and we've learned almost nothing of consequence regarding it. We now know she was an orphan but she isn't interested in who her parents were or why they left, and also her earring is special, I guess.

Thancred and Urianger have more to do than this group. Koana and the other one are kinda one-note but they've at least got the advantage of like. Being withholding and letting me interpret the things they say and do sometimes, rather than telling me.

I keep thinking, god, maybe Erenville will be interesting but he's starting to feel a little one-note in his interactions with Wuk Lamat. We know a little more about him now but it's like. Trivia. He was from this village and his mother tasked him with finding the Golden City. Cool. What does that mean to him? How does he feel about it? Why did he obey her instructions to become a gleaner to search for this city? Nothing we've learned is of substance.

I'm... frustrated. We're at 3/7 of these Feats completed and I do not have any greater understanding of these characters and their reasons for being here or their roles in the narrative than we had at the start of the contest. We're still just establishing the setting 1/5 of the way through. It's frustrating. I've been pretty patient, but I don't think my continued urge to fuck off and do something else every hour or two is misplaced. I've almost finished grinding fates in the first 2 zones just because I wanted to take some time to sit and think and digest what I'm feeling about all this and why.

[jebewonmorelike]

Being Jiwoong & Jongwoo's Baby

basically a yujin & matthew pov wc: 400 warnings: as fluffy as cotton candy pronouns: none used; mentions you being a fellow trainee/contestant but we're just having fun pretending here ~bp masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ enjoy this headcanon of what it's like to be "adopted" by jongwoo & jiwoong. i'm not responsible for the deep sadness you will feel when you realize you can never live this perfectly adorable fantasy. xx

- jongwoo is mother hen and there will be no discourse surrounding that

- dotes on you 24/7; always asking if you’re hungry or thirsty or need rest

- takes tons of pictures of you making the ugliest faces and uses them as blackmail if you try to deny his cuddles

- jiwoong can seem intimidating to some, but he’s always acting like the goofy father around you

- he's even started writing down new dad jokes in his notes app so he won't forget to tell them to you

- he's always met by the loudest groan from both you and jongwoo

- but that's his favorite part

- other trainees want to recruit you for their group each week, but one parent or the other always snatches you up first

- you don’t mind

- except when jongwoo or jiwoong push you too hard during practice

- they can’t help it: they expect more of you

- it’s because they’re the only ones who really see your true potential

- sometimes they scold you or make you repeat a part of the dance so much that you can’t help but start to choke up

- but you get lots of hugs and pep talks after the sight of your tears softens them

- “you could be the best, kiddo. let’s get you to the top together”

- the perks are endless though

- you always have a place to sit (jongwoo’s lap)

- they buy you lots of food and make sure you eat well

- sometimes jongwoo spoon feeds you

- he insists he's just joking around

- (he's not)

- jiwoong gives forehead kisses like his life depends on it

- when mentors give unnecessarily harsh feedback, jiwoong and jongwoo don’t stand up for themselves or each other but…

- they always try to stand up for you

- you’re their baby

- they're willing to risk their pride on your behalf

- late nights spent filming tiktok dance covers together

- they always let you be the center of course

- constant teasing from both of them, you literally get no breaks from hearing how adorable you are

- “seriously! who made you so cute, huh?” jiwoong whines, squishing both of your cheeks together with one hand

- jongwoo squeezing you tighter and replying:

- “i’m comfortable taking the blame"

- “you would be,” jiwoong replies, rolling his eyes. “but you get your looks from your dad"

- “watch it"

[systastic]

hihi ! could we get a lvl 3 cyno fictive ? we have a cyno fragment that needs to be fleshed out ^ . ^

sure can! fun fact: we met his voice actor in person :] alejandro is a super cool guy -🌳

meow used mostly arabic and egyptian names fur him beclaws of Sumeru’s theming ~ theres some non-ethnic names aswell do be aware of that!! :3 - 🍥

name :: cyno, cyrus, silas, amun*, nassor, zafar, jabari, usi, amir, sayf, horus*, seth*

age :: 18 to 21

pronouns :: he/him, hy/hym, ty/tyr, sae/saer, se/sem, thae/thaer, thon/thons

roles :: coach, comedian, confidence holder, disciplinarian, jailer

species :: human, wielder of Hermanubis’ power

gender identity :: genderqueer, anubiagender, desertarian, electrobodiment, aesumerun, anubisic (will coin on request)

orientation :: vincian/achillean, erosian [only use if the body is poc!]

source :: genshin impact

aesthetic :: ancient egypt, fantasy, sigma (jokingly)

appearance description :: born to followers of hermanubis and the long-deceased king deshret, cyrus has all the hallmarks of a desert-dweller: deep, dark skin, earth-toned eyes, and a strong build. tyr pure white hair and severe red eyes stand out from the crowd — as it should, given that these are the hallmarks of royalty last seen several hundred years ago. it is because of amun’s oddities that thae were chosen to hold the ba fragments. in silas’ continuity, hy was given both pieces instead of just one. this further impacted his appearance: soft features like those of the deity before hym, along with much more muscle due to the intense training regimen sayf went through as a child. nassor still left the temple of silence while he was young, moving to sumeru and joining spamtamad with saer mentor. such great accomplishments and raw power saw jabari become the general mahamatra at the young age of 17. thons severe gaze and no-nonsense expression gets the criminals talking every time.

personality description :: usi’s stern demeanor and muscular build appears intimidating at first glance. indeed, thon is, making thon ruthlessly effective at capturing akademyia’s criminals and rule-breakers to bring them back to the matra for punishment. thons face usually dons a frown and narrowed eyes, sizing up the criminals who try to get away with horrendous things. in truth, cyno is not always so stern. while sae may seem strict on duty, seth is quite playful: cracking constant bad jokes and horrible puns in his deadpan voice, challenging friends and colleagues alike to tcg battles, and spending the majority of his time with his partner-in-crime tighnari & his forest ranger assistant collei.

likes :: desert views, sunlight (even if it seems harsh), warm sand under his toes, gentle wind over the dunes, buried treasure, justice for the wicked, delivering punishment, hermanubis, the matra, respect for his accomplishments, his job, absolutely awful “dad” jokes, puns, card games, trading card games, deck building, al haithem, kaveh, collei, and tighnari

dislikes :: those who break the rules, misuse of academic supplies, braggarts, complainers (this is why thon can only hang out with kaveh for so long), stuck-up students, those with superiority complexes, being cooped up for too long, negative reviews left on the akademiya public message boards (he’ll leave a witty retort back), being told his jokes suck or that he’s a terrible comedian (thon takes pride in his bad puns), and azar.

front triggers :: card games (specifically tcgs), academic misdemeanor, disrespect towards teachers, dad jokes, and bad puns

signoff :: 🐪, 🌵, 🏜️, or ☀️

image source: here!

* == names of gods, use with care !!

[whimsicaldragonette]

Blog Tour and ARC Review: By Any Other Name by Erin Cotter

Welcome to my stop on the By Any Other Name book tour with Colored Pages Blog Tours. (This blog tour is also posted on my wordpress book blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Book info:

TITLE: By Any Other Name AUTHOR: Erin Cotter PUBLISHER: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers RELEASE DATE: October 10, 2023 GENRES: Young Adult, Historical Fiction, Fantasy PAGES: 464 REPRESENTATION: Queer MCs

Goodreads StorygraphBlackwellsAmazonBarnes & NobleBookshop USOther Retailers

Synopsis:

A down-on-his-luck actor and an English lord reluctantly team up to solve the murder of Christopher Marlowe in this Shakespearean-era young adult romp perfect for fans of F.T. Lukens and Mackenzi Lee.

London, 1593. Sixteen-year-old Will Hughes is busy working on Shakespeare’s stage, stuffing his corsets with straw and pretending to be someone else. Offstage, he's playing a part, too. The son of traitors, Will is desperate to keep his identity secret—or risk being killed in the bloody queen’s imperial schemes. All he wants is to lay low until he earns enough coin to return to his family.

But when his mentor, the famous playwright Christopher Marlowe, is murdered under mysterious circumstances, Will’s plans are hopelessly dashed. What’s worse, Marlowe was a spy for the queen, tasked with stalking a killer rumored to be part of an elusive order of assassins, and his secrets and untimely death have put Will under a harsh spotlight. And so, when Will unwittingly foils an attempt on the queen’s life, she names him her next spymaster.

Now, to avoid uncomfortable questions, prison, or an even more terrible fate, Will reluctantly starts his new career, which—yes—will secure him the resources to help his family…but at what cost? Adding insult to injury is the young Lord James Bloomsbury, Will’s new comrade in arms, whose entitled demeanor and unfairly handsome looks get under Will’s skin immediately.

Together, the two hunt the cunning assassin, defend the queen’s life, and pray to keep their own...all while an unexpected connection blossoms between them.

Author Bio:

Erin Cotter writes young adult fiction. Originally from Buffalo, New York, she currently calls Austin home. When not writing she spends time with her partner and pets, eating tacos, and searching for Golden-cheeked Warblers in the Texas Hill Country.

Author Links:

Goodreads WebsiteInstagram

My Rating: ★★★★

*My Review, Favorite Quotes, and Tour Schedule below the cut.

My Review:

I can’t give this five stars because I didn’t love it and I definitely wouldn’t read it again, but it absolutely deserves four for how very much I didn’t love the setting - purely a case of personal preference - and at the same time how much I loved the characters. It takes skill to pull such a visceral response of dislike from me and at the same time endear the characters to me so strongly.

The thing I like least about this book, and the thing that makes me admire the skill of the author the most, is the rawness of life in this medieval world. These characters live in filth. They are accustomed to it. Humanity here, from the aristocrats to the peasants, is only a step away from animals. Life is unpredictable, brutal, full of disease and filth and crassness and betrayal. And no one bats an eye.

It reminds me of Catherine Called Birdy (a book I still vividly remember viscerally hating when I had to read it for school all those years ago) in the way it portrays a world of casual brutality and scrabbling in the mud for a life. Honestly it’s probably at least in part a bit of germaphobia that makes me hate this world so.

Will and his friends go through so much over the course of the novel, and there are so many plot twists, that I was constantly surprised by events and by their tenacity and determination to survive. I never saw a single thing coming in the course of the assassination and murder investigation. I could see, after each piece had fallen into place, exactly how it fit, but not how it got there.

The characters and events were melodramatic and sometimes strained credulity, but it all fits with the underlying theme of plays and players. Shakespeare and Marlowe are even characters. Will begins as an actor playing girls on stage in Marlowe's plays, and he keeps all of those actor characteristics to his personality throughout the story.

Will is likable no matter his selfishness and many faults, and i found myself continually rooting for him and his star-crossed love. And I came away loathing the nobility, especially Elizabeth. Her court was rotten and she was the worst of them all.

The way the story played out was very satisfying and wrenched a lot of feelings from me. Not least of which was the conviction that I absolutely positively never want to visit this world.

Seriously though, James' sister Catherine deserved so much better. Her part of the story is the one thing that really disappointed me.

*Thanks to NetGalley, Colored Pages Blog Tours, and Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

Goddamn it. I’ve been trying not to let these two become my friends, but they became my friends anyway.

---

Whatever lack of experience Bloomsbury claims he has, his inspired performance as the most vexing person I’ve ever met is certainly coming from somewhere.

---

To hell with Marlowe and Bloomsbury and all the other people who tug me into their dark intrigues and give me no lantern to light my way. I am tired of being left in the dark.

---

“We don’t need your coin!” Maggie snarls. “’Tis coin. We always need coin,” Inigo amends in a small voice.

---

Should I fail, the stakes are dire; impersonating a man of the noble class is a crime punishable by death. Though to be fair, most of the crimes in England are punishable by death.

---

’Tis a brave and dangerous thing to go about this world having dreams. A dream is even more fickle and fleeting than a life.

---

“So we’re not here to have fun?” I say, to be cetain I’m understanding Foxwell correctly. Because it very much appears as though we’re in the midst of fun.

---

’Tis Reamonn, the swashbuckling pirate lad. He prickles with knives like an adorable, bloodthirsty hedgehog.

Tour Schedule:

October 4th

@monikasbookblog - Review + Favorite Quotes

raavenreads - Review Post

October 5th

Yourlocalbookreader - Review + Reel

@monarchsandmyths - Review + Favorite Quotes

October 6th

_perpetualpages_ - Review Post

Whimsical Dragonette - Review + Favorite Quotes

October 7th

ofpagesandprint - Review + Reel

@moyashi_girl - Review Post

October 8th

@poatic.library - Review + Reel

@gingerly_reading - Review Post

October 9th

Readreviewcoffee - Review + Favorite Quotes

Spacey Ghost - Review Post

October 10th

​​@rubyraereads - Review Post

Bangalimeyreads - Review + Reel

[eriyu]

27 and 41 (but mostly for the motifs part) for the character development questions! Also, 13 and 15 ones from the xiv themes ask (if this isn't too much hehe) 🗣❤️

- @fourteenthz

27. What do they strongly like and dislike, in any category? Why?

hmmmm how about clothes? i've already talked more than enough about Ehryu loving hats, but to be more specific, she likes the aesthetic AND she likes that they feel soft and snug! so on that metric, she also likes things like turbans (mostly the Thavnairian turban, being as ostentatious as her BRD and RDM hats), but less so helms or tiny hats that just sit on top of your head.

other things she likes with clothing... flowy but still breathable and easy to move in. not too impractical. boots are good; shorts and tights are good; scarves are good; typically things that show skin are good. full plate armor is bad; thick, heavily padded gear is bad; long, full long skirts are bad; restrictive necklines are bad.

41. What associations do they bring to mind? Words or phrases, images, metaphors or motifs? Why?

music/singing is her big motif. she uses it to connect with people as a traveler, to inspire people as the Warrior of Light, and come Endwalker, to teach Meteion a song of hope. :') bard should have been the canon endwalker job; change my mind.

also this is super abstract but like... a contrast between soft and harsh? she is so full of love and so full of violence. radically benevolent 99% of the time but she holds grudges like no tomorrow. she favors heavy metal music but her lyrics are always, always uplifting. kisses with a bit of fang.

13. How important is formal education to your character?

Not very. She's very much the learn-by-doing type — why read about something when you can go out and see it in person, throw away the instructions and try to figure it out yourself, failure is the best teacher type. But she does recognize the value of a good mentor while you're learning by doing.

15. Is your character easily intimidated?

Absolutely not. She's very self-confident, and in most circumstances, she has the skills to back that confidence up. And if not? Again, failure is the best teacher!

That said, and relevant to the last two questions... She does get a bit intimidated in certain highly academic situations. When the she's at a table with various world leaders talking politics, or the Scions talking advanced aetherology all around her, she does start feeling a bit stupid. 8') But she's not; she just fell in with a bucketload of politicians and fantasy PhDs.