#i hope to retain what i can. to grow even more. to live on.. with. everything n everyone. yeah. i'll do my best

[soulren]

Go spend some time on male pattern baldness or male(AMAB) balding forums/subreddits and such. I did after realizing it is happening to me and the ammount of people who truly don't realize how BRUTALLY it tanks people's confidence and mental health is insane.

There's no cure to baldness by the way, and it can start at any time and there's no way to predict how fast or slow it will go. The only real working option is a daily pill that usually just halts it, but it can stop working or just slow it down or cause major side effects. To regrow you have to use a daily topical solution, or use a roller to wound your scalp. None of these are surefire by the way, and if you stop them you'll just lose your hair and whatever you regained. It's a daily involved thing that might not work and often at best just retains. The best drug, the one that occasionaly gives regrowth, also causes shedding at the start, and can have side effects from growing breasts to brain fog to EDsyfunction(sorry, censoring cause tumblr). Now, those are INCREDIBLY rare and almost never happen but it weighs heavily on the mind of those already spiraling.

But that's just background. What I'm here to talk about is the pure woe you'll see on those forums. People speak as though their lives are over, as though they've lost every chance of finding a woman(predominantly, there's a running idea in such places that women don't like bald men or like them less) or doing anything. You can read countless stories of people who describe that they no longer go outside, are now filled with anxiety and self-hate, have gone from extroverted to never showing their face. And some of these people are kids who lost their hair in high school or even before, or are holding as best they can to a very receded hairline and feel like there is nothing they can do.

And then there's something touched upon far less in those communities, but is important to bring up here; baldness and masculinity. There's the horror of knowing so much of society sees a bald guy as a very masculine guy, at seeing that the best advice for being hot and bald is "grow and beard and big muscles bro". Imagine now you're AMAB balding and nonbinary, or a trans woman who doesn't want to be on hormones.

Just genuinely take the time to look at those forums no matter who you are. Understand what these people go through, what I am currently going through. It is soul-crushing, spiraling, brutal. I have the dream of one day being like Brennan Lee Mulligan or Matt Mercer and starting to lose my hair made me feel like I could never. I felt like and still feel like I would have to be masculine, have to be a bro-y dude, have to look older than I was(I'm fuckin 22). It was the feeling that I could never dress feminine again, never present as a woman when I wanted to again, that I'd always be viewed as a bald guy before anything else.

This is an incredibly vulnerable post for me, and I hope it reaches you all as well in a kind and understanding mood. There's a tendency online for people to joke about baldness, to make fun of it, to treat it as a playfull silly thing but it fucking ruins lives, and it shouldn't. It happens to half the population's sort of bodies and very often. It should just be a neutral thing. You don't need long hair to be feminine, you don't need hair to be feminine. You don't need hair for anything. I guess I'm just saying in general that everyone should be kinder about balding, more understanding, and view it with as much import as they'd view the pixels between this sentence and the next. None at all, I mean.

And for those like me, very feminine guys who wanna keep that and don't want a beard and are terrified of balding, here's some names and I do hope others that see this will add more; Mr. Bruce (also in The Correspondents(band) Alex Ward in LA By Night Jason Carl in LA By Night Cecil Baldwin of Welcome To Night Vale Bob The Drag Queen RuPaul(in looks alone, I know about the whole fracking stuff but this post is about looks) tananasho on instagram Also your mannerisms and style of dress will convey femininity far more than your hair. Yea sure a front-on neutral shot of you may not and maybe you need makeup and stuff, and hell maybe a lot of people might reject you more but it'll just filter down to the people for you.

And to all you artists and writers and creatives; make more bald characters. Try it out. Feminine ones, masculine ones, all sorts. None of the copout nonhuman sort, just dudes and girls and mates and individuals who are all sorts of things and also bald. It might make a few of the people going through the various vortexes of pain that balding causes feel a bit better.

And to those noticing I did not adress female hair loss much here, that was intentional. I am AMAB and currently a nonbinary guy who goes by any pronouns but often likes to present as fem. I learned I was possibly losing my hair and lost two months of my life, no work or going or anything, to male hair loss forums and research and spiraling. Checking my hair twenty times a day, unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think. And my situation was NOT unique, but it also did not give me any experience or understanding of female hair loss and what AFAB people may go through with that, so I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak on it. Also living with baldness WILL get easier and you will find something that works for it, by virtue of simply living with it. Things get easier with time.

[yuri-is-online]

Ooohhh any head cannons with malleus! Yutu and how diasomnia reacts to them?

Ah yes the banished Prince.  I was wondering when I was going to get an ask about him, and I admit I am a bit surprised it was only the one unlike a certain other prince. It's rather fitting to come back to Yutu posts with him though, there's a great deal of tragedy to be had with Malleus in this ayuu.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FROM BOOK 7 ON HOW DRAGON FAE REPRODUCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

I've mentioned it before but Malleus! Yutu plays by half elf rules.  He's very young looking, he's around the same age that Yuu is, whatever you think that is, but he looks around 15 at most and shares his father's eyes and teeth.  Even in your world he had a reputation for being quite baby faced, this annoys him quite a lot, though he keeps his outrage to a brief pout if the person talking about it is Yuu.

Yuu remembers Malleus being their best friend, someone who was socially awkward due to isolation and came off as intense and scary because of it.  They go to great lengths to try and encourage Yutu to make friends, but the public opinion of them as weirdos really hinders this and is only increased as Yutu matures.  This Yutu doesn't like people very much, he grows up assuming everyone is mean and overly judgemental and that he will never be truly accepted for who he is no matter how hard he tries.

Being born in a different world does not make him any less of a Draconia, though unlike his father he is less prone to rage and more to long periods of melancholy; he is very much that sensitive goth kid with reams of bad poetry he will want to burn when he gets older and a love for rainy days. He has a deep love for classical poetry, music, and old clothes. If the area where Yuu lived had a ren faire then you can best bet Yuu took him there as a special treat more than once, he loves seeing all the medieval outfits and activities. He's explored every cemetery your town has, knows all of it's weird rumors, and any fun history stuff that might have happened in and around it, something he retains when transported to Twisted Wonderland. There are few people who know more about the history of Night Raven College than Yutu Draconia, for better or worse.

His interest in the macabre effects how he sees his parent's situation. While other Yutus might have needed time to adjust to the idea of magic and curses, Malleus! Yutu always firmly believed in it and assumed that was exactly what had happened to his parent. He went back and forth on his beliefs about his father, as a small child he thought of his father as a wonderful person who loved his parent so much that he must be searching for them surely, and that any day now he would swoop in and fly Yuu and him away to where they really belonged. When that never happened he began to wonder if maybe his father saw his relationship with Yuu as a mistake and that their memories had been altered purposefully to hide his identity. Whatever the truth, Yutu has decided that his loyalty is to Yuu, and that no matter who is trying to harm them he will hunt them down and have his revenge.

He announces as much to Crewel after he arrives in the mirror chamber, magic sparking at his finger tips as he roars it with a force he didn't know he had and immediately starts hacking at how dry his throat has become. It's very cute and not as intimidating as he might have wanted, but his point comes across well enough. Diasomnia is extremely pleased to have a Draconia back in the Housewarden's seat, though Yutu is less than pleased with this new position of authority.

The transition of being a hated outcast to the rightful King of a literal fallen kingdom is jarring. Learning of his father's controversial marriage to Yuu, of the uproar caused by their disappearance and his father's outright refusal to ever give up hope that his child and spouse would return is heartbreaking. Silver and Sebek had standing orders to go to them when not if they did, that's how badly his father wanted to believe he would be back. He was barely able to live with himself without them, but he had to. He had a kingdom relying on him, and someone else too.

We have gone back and forth in these posts about giving Yutu a sibling, but Malleus! Yutu absolutely has one. Dragon fae create eggs from magic and their partner's love, so in this scenario Malleus and Yuu decided to have two children, one that Mal would nourish and one that Yuu would. Technically, the Crown Princess is older than Yutu, but since she hatched from an egg she matures even slower than he does. She did grow faster than her father, the ability to transform into a human came much more naturally to her because of Yuu's love, but she doesn't look or sound much older than six. You are insane if you think this means she thinks of herself as the younger sibling though, her egg was older by two whole years so there! That means she is in charge! So Yutu absolutely has to stop learning boring "political smience" or whatever and play with her RIGHT NOW. She's wanted to meet him for so long TᴖT how dare her little brother deny her TᴖT look at her she's so cute how could he even think of scolding her TᴖT oh jail for brother jail for 1000 years TᴖT

Yutu might hate socializing and have a negative view of people but he absolutely adores his sister and thinks of himself as the big brother. He lets her claim to be in charge in the same way Malleus let Sebek do whatever he wanted because he finds it amusing. It is not uncommon to see the King in Exile holding court with the Crown Princess on his lap, rocking her softly as she naps. It helps solidify his control over what remains of Briar Valley, they might have been skeptical about having a half human King who cannot even transform into a dragon, but his professed dedication to his father's legacy of sacrifice and the clear adoration of his sister make his authority tough to deny.

Speaking of sacrifice, going back in time was hard for Malleus! Yutu. He felt there was absolutely no way he could bring his sister back with him because of how young she was and he was skeptical of whether or not it would even work. If it didn't he would be depriving Briar Valley of a king again, but if it did well. Then he would never need to be king in the first place, which Yutu finds reliving. While he did step up to the task, all he ever really wanted was to live with his father, Yuu, and now his sister in whatever way would have been normal for them. Sure, that normal turns out to have been quite abnormal, but that doesn't mean he still does not want it.

When the Once and Never King sees his father he has maybe more information than any of the other Yutus, even those who had met their dads. He conducted lengthy interviews with both Silver and Sebek, compiling a great pile of notes that he went through over and over again trying to come up with a strategy. All of that planning goes out the window when they actually meet, Yuu asks for permission from Tsunotarou to introduce the two of them, thinking it would be nice for both him and Yutu to have more friends and Malleus is just intrigued enough to say yes.

So this is a dragon fae. It's the only thing Yutu can bring himself to think when he sees Malleus, the other, more intense thoughts and emotions are distracted by the fireflies that accompany his father's arrival. They're beautiful, he can't remember having seen anything like them before, certainly not in his future. His father looks at him in brief surprise, and magic tingles up Yutu's spine. It's similar to the feeling he had when he first saw his sister, like recognizing like and seeking to form a connection. It hurts to shut himself off, but he smiles and focuses on his humanity as he puts forward his hand. "Hello Mr. Tsunotarou, I'm Yutu." The smile that stretches its way across Malleus's face is pure amusement, he must have really liked this ruse. What did Yuu think about that when they learned?

"My the humans of your world are certainly brave." He shakes his hand proudly, clearly pleased at the normalcy of Yutu's treatment but still painfully unaware how to be normal about it. "I am deeply pleased to make your acquaintance."

Malleus adores Yutu. There's just something about him that activates a part of him that he wasn't aware of before, and while he doesn't understand what those emotions are he recognizes his increased need to be protective of Yuu for exactly what it is. His mind thinks of Yuu as his mate, in body and soul, and that does terrify him slightly. Yuu is so tragically human, they'll die if he takes them home. They'll die if he lets them go to their home. They'll die if he never says anything at all and lets his love rot out his heart alone in his tower while they freely move through the world without ever having known of his emotions-

I haven't given much thought as to how I would want a Malleyuu confession to go down, but I could see them starting a sort of awkward courting process where Malleus takes them for long, late night walks in the forest to slow dance alone, brings them roses and handcrafted jewels he silently begs for them to wear to show just how close they are getting- but however it happens there is at least an understanding that there is something between them by the time Yutu's disguise is knocked off and he's forced to come clean.

It's a reveal Malleus does not take well. Oh not that he hates his son, he is overwhelmed with such a powerful love and joy at the mere concept of his existence he could never- no it's the fact that his future. His happy ending, that he fucking deserves after everything that his family has been through, was robbed from him and he wasn't able to do anything about it other than go to sleep? Him? The most powerful mage (fifth actually but he doesn't care about that) in existence couldn't stop that? Unacceptable.

After Yuu gets him to calm down and soothes the brewing thunderstorm they both are very focused on the well being of their child. I feel like both Yuu and Malleus would want Yutu to have a chance to just enjoy himself, for him to take off the crown he was never meant to have and just. Breathe for a moment. That's part of Malleus's motivation for introducing him as his son to the Diasomnia gang, he wants his child to have a chance to have some fun with his Uncles and Pee Paw Lilia.

Sebek bursts into tears when he learns of Waka Sama jr's existence. I think he feels a sort of kinship with Yutu, they're both half fae and they both have a deep respect for Malleus. He's very shy when he sees how much respect Yutu has for him. He's surprisingly humble when Yutu thanks him for protecting him in the future, insisting that he was just doing his job. He likes listening to Yutu play the piano, I could see Yutu trying to teach Sebek how to play an instrument, partially to spend time with him and partially just because he is curious as to how tone deaf Sebek can be.

Silver is deeply concerned about Yuu and Yutu's safety. He organizes with Sebek and Lilia to change up their patrols to include defending the new members of the royal family . He is a bit confused as to why Yutu wants to just hang out with him when all he really does is train, but he also is glad that the little prince is willing to train with him and take Silver's concerns about his safety seriously. I could see Silver apologizing for not being able to defend his parent, genuinely distressed about his situation and Yutu being a bit awkward about it. He never thought to blame Silver ever, why would he? Yutu is not unused to Silver's kindness, but it still overwhelms him. It's a pure sort of love that challenges what Yutu thinks about the world, and he doesn't know what to do with that.

Now. Mr. Pee Paw. Lilia is probably the most excited out of the entire group, look at this kid. You see him? Living physical proof that humans and fae can get along! If a Draconia did it then you can too, Grandpa Leven would be so proud! The future is concerning sure, but now that he knows about it he can plan for it. Lilia might be old, but he is still has some fight left in him, and he is very happy to use it on securing Malleus's family's future.

Yes, he does try to cook for Yutu. He wants to make him a birthday cake because he insists that they should throw him a party even if it isn't his birthday so he can have one with his Pee Paw and Dad. Yes everyone forces Yutu to distract him so they can make sure they've got something edible. He's so sad about it, how could they, jail for the little prince, jail for 1000 years.

Malleus is overly confident about his ability to change the future. Failure isn't an option as far as he is concerned, he will find the person who dared to corrupt his perfect future and he will have his due. His son will never have to live in a world without him, and he will never have to live in a world that rejected Yuu. Someone clearly needs to be reminded of just who Malleus Draconia is, and that memory will not be pretty.

Bonus

So the little crown princess. She learns that her idiot younger brother is planning to go back in time without her and she is very angry about this. How dare he, she knows he can't do anything without her so she makes sure to tag along anyway.

I toyed with the future kid reveal coming from her just marching up to Yutu and giving him orders, but I also like the idea of the Draconia family finding her lost in the woods crying because of how distressed she is that she can't find her little brother. Either way she doesn't understand the need for secrecy and wants to spend every single second she can with her parents. She causes a lot of rain when she finally gets to meet Yuu in person, she had so many dreams about meeting them and now they're real and she can hug them- she's just got too many emotions in her little body send help.

The Draconia family has pretty easy to follow naming theme, but I wasn't too certain about what names to give Yutu and his sister. I like the idea of Princess Draconia being named Mallia after Lilia but I am less certain about Yutu. In my notes Miss Princes was just called Princess Tamago because she hatched out of an egg. That's not her name but I could see that being something Yutu calls her.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Plastic Hearts - (13)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

Sometimes you have to choose love.

---

He was upset as he turned away from you and it plummeted you into the depths of anxiety. All that free flight that you were enjoying, died, like the wind stopped blowing your way.

“I need you to come with me.”, he said, knowing well that it had the real possibility of killing whatever it was that was growing between you both. But as he took your hand, he was certain of one thing. He could sacrifice being with you but he could not stand by and watch as he lost you again.

“Ok.”, you said as you fetched your bag and turned off the lights. All this could be cleared later, the worry in his eyes were so palpable that you began to wonder what the issue was.

“Is everything alright?”, you asked as you got up, his distant eyes found yours and brought him back to the moment.

“Yeah.”, he said it but it wasn’t believable and he knew how that could have scared you.

“I had a lovely night.”, he drew closer, to cover you with his leather jacket, to give your hand a gentle squeeze as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He didn’t want that truth to be lost in everything he was about to say.

Actually, as he felt your hand in his and with the sudden awareness setting in, that danger was imminent to this world around him, it began to scare him all the more.

Was he going to have to give you up too?

But he put on a smile and began to head back to his apartment. He had to show you the doomsday meter and tell you about the skates. So he set his mind to it, if he thought about the various other outcomes, he was never going to have the courage to do it.

He walked beside you and held your hand as though it was an anchor, that the gesture was meant more for him, while you were trying to figure out what had spooked him.

Maybe it was you.

Maybe it was something else.

You focused on the concrete in the pavement to stop the nervous thinking from eating you away. His jacket feeling like an extension of him trying it’s best to help you retain your calm.

You got into the elevator that was wide enough to fit two people. He pressed the button to his floor and the doors closed. He was on the tenth floor, but you couldn’t put a handle on the worry you felt.

Was he going to leave?

As he stood there in front of you, watching the numbers change on the dial, you wanted to step forth and loop your arms around him. To hug him like before but instead you just wanted to stay there, in the hopes he might stay longer too.

But the dial chimed and the doors opened, he held out his hand for you to walk out first as he followed you, the sound of keys jiggling in his hand as though it was an ode to the tension in the air. He came to a stop before his unit and unlocked the door.

He went ahead to turn on the lights but somehow seeing him move around in a domestic space was amping the stress all the more, because with every second that passed you were falling in love again and you were scared he wasn’t.

His home was different to what you had thought, it had a lot of horse related artefacts but it was enhanced well with good interior design. The windows from his living room had a wonderful view of the neighborhood. His space had a lot of scented candles that made it smell like a mix of cinnamon and leather.

“I hope you don’t mind the mess.”, he put away his shoes as he waved his hand around even when there was no mess to be found.

“I had to relearn the aspects of housekeeping.”, he chuckled as he made you feel comfortable, asking if you wanted to put away his jacket but you held onto it.

He popped open the double door fridge to get you a drink as he helped himself to a soda too.

You took a seat on the sofa with the cold soda can giving you hope that what it was he wanted to say could not be as catastrophic as you were thinking. But he sat across you instead of by your side and that smile of his was no where to be found. He took a quick sip before he turned to you.

“The skates that brought you here.”, he began and you could feel cold needles of ice pierce through your heart.

“How do you know –

“Brie, those were doomsday skates.”, he continued as though he needed to get this off his chest.

“It's slowly destroying Barbie land and along with it the imagination of all the girls and women on this planet.”, he narrated and your gradual onset of sleepless nights and the lack of dreams fell into place.

“You need to get those skates back to Barbie land as soon as possible, if you wish to save it.”, he held his hands together as his eyes grew distant again.

"If I wish?", you questioned. The news was a shell shock. Your selfish desire has caused the worst disaster.

"What happens if it don’t?", you leaned forward, trying to keep panic at bay

"It fades away forever, erased from history.", he continued.

"No, what happens to you?", you stopped him to ask more precise details.

"I disappear along with it.", he shrugged his shoulders as though he had made peace with the concept.

The panic you wished to keep away flooded your system.

"Without Barbie land, I don’t exist.", he found your eyes, his blue waning to a grey almost as if he believed it.

"But you can.", he said with a fervent tone.

"The skates grant you one wish.", he took another sip and sat back.

"You can choose to be human and start a new life.", he said it to you as though he was relaying new strategy.

"How can you say that?", you grew angry but the sadness was causing tears to flood your eyes.

"I’m just being realistic.", he met your steely gaze with resistance of his own

"About what?", you sniffled throwing your hands around in frustration.

"About how you have a life here.", he said it seriously.

"And you don’t?", you reached out to him but he got up to pace around.

"Brie, I was sent to get you.", He placed the cold can on the side of his forehead to ease the stress.

"That was all this was?", you asked in shock. Unable to believe you had become a fool yet again.

"God, no.", he furrowed his brows.

"No.", he said more calmly.

"I fell in love with the version I was here.", he replied.

"My job, my home and my car.", he had a small smile on his lips.

"The kids, the school ...", He paused his steps but didn't look at you.

"You.", he said softly before he resumed to his walk.

"I want to be here.", he said like it was his dream.

"But I can’t.", the melancholy in his voice was breaking you down.

"I'm not of this place.", he shook his head as he stared out the window.

"That doesn’t make sense.", you challenged his argument and his logic.

"The tunnel plays you an advertisement.", he stated and you could understand where all these thoughts were coming from.

"That garbage.", you began to push it away but he shook his head.

"No, Brie.", he caught your attention again.

"I didn’t have one. Just a line, stating if a Barbie chooses to exist then a Ken can.", he found your eyes for a second before looking away defeated.

"So without a Barbie back in Barbie land, I’m a goner anyway.", he downed the contents of his can and chucked it in a Bin with a frustration. Because it wasn't fair.

"I will fade away all the same.", he pursed his lips

"And I know.", he glanced back at you. The very sight of you giving him a few extra minutes in life.

"You love it here.", he smiled.

"Do you now?", you answered with sarcasm because how was he to know how it actually was.

"Yeah, Brie. That glow from within you. That’s something Barbieland could never give you.", he pointed his hand at you, his eyes glimmering as he drew closer to you.

"No that's became of you, Ken.", you held his gaze as you said it.

"With you, I feel like the sun. For five years, I lived a life of hopelessness. Struggling to find worth in my work, to discover myself when I’ve been so blind. That the best version of me is the version that exists now.", you explained the truth behind why you truly felt alive.

"Then you take my world by storm only to take it away again?", you couldn't look at him anymore as it stung you.

"You can’t do that to me.", you shook your head.

"What do you want me to do?", he raised his voice in anger, out of hopelessness because this was a dead end. He wasn't the hero of this story. Getting a good ending wasn't in his hands.

"I lose you all the same. All I have are seconds with you when I want it all. Brie, I won’t force you to come back. I know what it’s like to have found an identity to then lose it.", he shook his head with vehemence.

"So this is it?", you looked at him, utterly broken.

"I guess so.", he said it half heartedly.

"So these past few days have all been a lie?", you couldn't believe it, you didn't want to believe it. Not when it felt so true and real.

But He found your gaze and eyes flicked like blue flame.

"No. I craved the real thing, Brie. I had fallen in love with you the moment I knew I had lost you. And for the next five years, I hated myself for not choosing you sooner. I spent every day and night scourging the streets of this city in search of you.", he held on to the sides of the kitchen island because he needed the strength to say the next few words

"Because I love you Brie. That’s all there is to it. I love you. I have loved you and I will continue to. But the choice to save Barbieland is in your hands. And only you can determine if it was worth saving.", he said it as though that was the most purest form of truth he had ever held.

"If I’m worth saving.", you heard him and his eyes pierced your soul.

He wiped out a watch that had a meter on it and placed it in front of him. The needle now at the start of the red zone, it was true.

But it was all too much, all at once, the heavy decision to save Barbieland, to leave this life behind and go back all while getting know that he had loved you all this while.

You needed some time away, cause if you continued to sit here you were going to be sick.

So as he stood by the kitchen, bracing himself, you put away his coat and took your purse. You walked past him, unable to look him in the eye cause if you did you were going to breakdown. He didn't try to stop you and somehow that made it all the more worse.

You walked away and stomped down the corridor, upset and angry, pressing the elevator button to call it to the floor you were in. But the truth of his words sunk in. That you stood to lose him forever this time.

To continue to live in a world that will never have a trace of him.

The elevator chimed it's arrival but you turned away from it. You ran down the corridor, this time, you weren’t going to run away. That here you could own up to your feelings, that you could have everything you wished for. So you didn’t have to chose between yourself and love. You could have both.

You stood in front of his door, you held your fist up to knock but the door opened on his own.

He had his jacket on halfway as though he was coming to chase after you. His eyes widened with surprise as you stood there.

---

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[kyriefae]

Being a Whovian is sincerely so much fun.

This show is so many different things to so many people but what I think truly makes it special is not just the change it forces on us as an audience but the way it pushes us subconsciously to give up on purism.

"Your Doctor" was <insert amiable character traits> but the current one doesn't represent that same persona? Pity. Almost like we can be different people all throughout our lives...

You ever hear someone say like..."it's fine it's just not for me"?

I wonder how many people who say that about the newest Doccy Who seasons genuinely think in their heart of hearts "actually this is garbage and you should agree with me that it is garbage" because those two are not the same thing at all! 🤭 Ugh, I can't help my incredulity sometimes. Maybe the internet adds to the expectation of toxicity. ...or I just spent a lot of time growing up around cynical assholes that hated fun. *shrug*

More to the point! 😅

Pick an era of this show; pick a doctor and you'll be transported to a world more or less unique to them. That's pretty cool if you ask me. They still have that silly multidimensional blue box; they still have two hearts (even if it didn't become canon until their 3rd incarnation)...and yes they still pick up stray humans (...usually young, petite British women from whatever decade said Doctor conveniently and sequentially visits).

But maybe to really hit home on what I mean about this show tackling purism in its audience's mind...it's always been a silly sci-fi show meant to elicit joy and wonder out of children. Additionally so, to help adults retain that same joy and wonder in their own lives by reflecting on the excitement that comes from infinite possibilities only possible when traveling with a genderfluid space alien that wears extraordinary clothes and hands out candy like it's already gone out of style. Oh and you become the universe's only hope the moment you step into another time or location lol.

Sometimes when we love something, we take it very seriously no matter how absurd it truly is at its core. We may not even notice we're doing it but any criticism of Doctor Who really ought to be taken with a grain of salt (and spread out at the very edge of creation...just for good measure). No need to get all salty over a television show. 🧂

So yeah. Being a Whovian, for me, is having the freedom to dive head first into an ocean of lore whenever I desire and really explore storytelling from several perspectives. Albeit many of the early years were written and directed and produced from the perspectives of white, straight men in the U.K. and stories with misogynist stances that heavily limited the functional roles of women in the context of said stories and were also affirmed by narratives and protagonists that failed to question any of it. *clearing throat* Oof, there was a frog back there!

All the same, our heroes of yesterday battled styrofoam monsters breaking through plywood walls built on cardboard sets represented by painted miniatures dangling on strings over a starlit portrait meant to look like space. Even when they couldn't help but be a bit cringe, they were still a silly lil sci-fi show playing at games of the imagination. Like children at play.

Now, we have this beautiful and talented man standing at center stage:

He is all the play; all the heart(s); all the joy we have known in this character but decorated in his own unique way.

My love for this show has evolved and I intend to allow it to continue doing just that. Hopefully we can continue to see the Whoniverse do just the same...instead of getting too caught up in the past. 🫣

Anywho, that's all for now.

Kisses 😘

[precious-little-bhaalbabe]

You called us to send asks about mindflayer karlach 🙇 I am here to learn. What are your Thoughts

I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

Basically most of my points have been made before in the tags of other posts but she deserves her own post.

The jist of it is explained in this post and the accompanying image

Basically, Illithid transformation does destroy the host. Our Karlach isn’t Mindflayer Karlach, it’s her tadpole all grown up. Having absorbed all her memories. Because of this, lots of people say that the Mindflayer ending is Karlach’s bad ending. Personally, I don’t see it as her best ending (going back to Avernus and getting her heart repaired is her best ending for me) but I don’t see it as any worse than her ending where she chooses to burn up on the docks surrounded by her friends as a free woman. In both endings (burning up and Illithid transformation), Karlach dies.

But for her Illithid transformation, Karlach’s little tadpole stowaway takes over, consuming her body and her memories. With no Elder Brain influence (given she’s FIGHTING the Absolute) and only Karlach’s memories to build herself off of, the Tadpole decides to make herself a 1:1 copy of Karlach. She retains her name and maintains Karlach’s relationships and does what Karlach would have wanted (at least what she interprets as Karlach wanting, given she has access to all her memories).

I’ve seen people mad about this, how Mindflayer Karlach isn’t Karlach, Illithid transformation kills the host and this mindflayer is just pretending to be Karlach to manipulate us. And I don’t think that’s quite true. Cause without an Elder Brain to serve, what purpose would manipulating the party have? The tadpoles only memories are Karlach’s. Mindflayer Karlach isn’t a sort of devious trick and lie, it’s more of an “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” situation.

My belief is that as Squidlach continues to live her life, absorbing the memories of the terminally ill she helps leave the world on their own terms, and having her own experiences as a mindflayer and an individual, she will come to view herself less as BEING Karlach and more as FROM Karlach. Viewing Karlach as a predecessor or even a mother. Thus “Karlach III” (she can’t be “Karlach Jr.” because OUR Karlach is already Karlach Jr. if you visit her parents grave in Baldur’s Gate, you see her mother was also named Karlach.)

My hopes and dreams for Karlach III is she gets to meet Omeluum and he can help her figure out what it is to be A Mindflayer but also they can live healthily with their own kind without an Elder Brain, free to pursue their own goals and be good people. And also he can teach her how to wear normal clothes so she can get out of the awful Illithid fleshy horror outfit the transformation left her in. She deserves to wear normal clothes. It’ll help her be less scary.

Maybe the two of them together can start a little colony of peaceful mindflayers together! Not as like, a couple (Omeluum is already clearly married. To Blurg) but like. Idk. Maybe they find a way to grow new mindflayers without being parasitic. Or they take in other runaways from other Elder Brains like Omeluum and the Emperor. Or maybe idk some people are like Karlach and want to choose to give rise to an Illithid for whatever reason. I just think it would be neat.

And even if they don’t, I think it would still be good for the two of them to be friends. It’ll really help Karlach III come into herself as her own person, as a successor to Karlach rather than a copy. It’ll be good for her.

[spiribia]

i'm looking at old school documents i have saved through my email, and here was a letter i wrote to myself in middle school as part of an English class assignment. the intent was it would be redelivered to us when we were graduating high school

It is very awkward to begin a letter to yourself. You don’t know where you are in x number of years – graduation from high school is not even really something that you think about as of now. You don’t know what to say because it’s weird to think about changing, and you don’t want to say anything that will make you sound the same.

So here’s a compromise: if you respect me, then I will not embarrass you.

It is actually more of a psychological thing going on and I am just trying to sound really smart, which should be pointless enough to prove that I don’t have any ill intentions.

I honestly don’t know what could be said to you; apparently when we grow up we are suddenly wiser and therefore any piece of knowledge I can impart to you is rendered– quote unquote – useless. But remember that I am older than you think, and you are younger than you think, and we are not that far apart in terms of years, seeing as time is a concept that humans created, and without that we are just floating in the void, and then I become you.

Middle school is a deeply unhappy part of life. It is two out of five stars. Would not recommend. Seeing as you have already gone through, it I find little necessity in reiterating any points about it; you had teachers, they tried to teach you things; the American schooling system, as refined as it tries to be at times, is flawed; you learned things for the sake of doing well on tests instead of retaining information, and largely succeeded in doing so. Middle school, among other things, made you a deeply unhappy person. I don’t know how you feel, because I suffered from nostalgia and the general ache of living three years ago, and I thought it would be over with by now. But it is now quite evident that the human brain is prone to only holding onto things that the body wants to dispose of. If you are still very much a sad, lonely person that I am now (I bet that you are) and even if you are not – I hate to say this, but you are loved. And if that in itself does not suffice, some stores sell cheap candy, and there are books in the world that you have not read and movies in the world that you have not watched, and by now you may or may not have a cat or something (congratulations prematurely), and even if you do not you have managed to live through high school, and you are off to college now, and you are about to grow up and experience all the parentless freedoms of living in a dorm and having people not tell you what to do. Is that not absolutely terrifying?

But it will be fun.

So, yes – I hope that you are happy. I cannot guarantee that you will be, but maybe something changes in your life, and you are, and maybe you have a cat or a dog or a horse, but a bird or two will do. Maybe those little baby turtles that can both fit comfortably in the palm of my hand, have grown up by now. There’s a book I’m writing, and the protagonist is a girl named Valerie, and I don’t know if I ever finish the book or if I start a new one, and if it sounds terribly juvenile to you now then I apologize, but it is the best that I can do. If you’re still working on it then you are most profoundly a slowpoke. Go get something done.

And maybe you’re not a writer. Maybe you end up in engineering or marine biology or zoo keeping, of all things; maybe you find your roots in mathematics, if you want a plot twist. What I’m trying to say is that this is totally strange and I have absolutely no idea what happens in the future – it’s all up to you while you still have the choice. It’s strange that you grow up and it’s strange that one of these days I will be old, possibly older than you. And maybe this letter never gets to you; maybe something happens and it ends up lost or read by someone who never was meant to read it (if that is the case, hello) and maybe you burn it as soon as you get it because you can’t stand my little childish voice because perhaps you’ve developed so much that you are suddenly beyond these things. Bear with me for a moment.

I am fascinated with the little things that could have happened and might have changed a lot of things: if I said one sentence off in a conversation, which way it would have gone. Maybe these things are the little parts that make up life, because it’s choked with more choices than you or I even realize, and I hope you’ve chosen the right ones, or at least the ones that make you happier. Instead of sitting on the right side of the bus all of the time, try the left. Of course you don’t take the bus and have not taken it in years, but it was something that took up a massive part of your academic life, little did you know; I have not even stopped taking them by the time I am writing this, but tomorrow is Friday, and then I will never ride a school bus to school again.

People tell you to live life to its fullest. That does not mean you live it to the standards of other people. You do not have to live through action and travel to every town in the world. You can sit in your room, and eat an apple, and like its taste and really, that is all. I wrote this as a bet into the future. I feel like I am talking – it’s strange to describe – to someone that I desperately want to impress. I was so disappointed in past reincarnations of myself that I am afraid that I will disappoint a future Self, and I feel inclined to make these last ties while I still can.

That is actually partially a lie. The real reason I wrote this was because my English teacher made me. It was a homework grade and I have likely already written a letter addressed to a future self in other parts of the year, so you are most likely about to see a good bit of me around. I am not completely dead. I will be with you always, whether you like it or not, so you might as well.

But once you get these letters, I’ll establish first: I am not dead. I am gone. You have taken my place. I don’t know in which direction you’ve taken it, but you’ve taken it nevertheless. Perhaps there’s still a part of me left, but really, only time can tell; there are always haphazard, oddly collected parts of people, and who knows if I am one of them.

Personally, I’m really excited to see where this goes.

Sincerely, You / Me / Us

[theprinceofmycologia]

How I find mushrooms and fungi

Note : I do not eat any of the fungi I find, so I will not give any advice on how to find edible mushrooms or on how to identify edible mushrooms. Also, English is not my first language so if anything is unclear in this post, let me know and I will try to explain better :)

@writingraccoon I hope this helps :)

1. Location

Firstly the location, if I am actively searching for fungi I go to the woods during the autumn and early winter (where I live the winters are not very cold). If I am looking for fungi passively I just glance and have a look if I see any muhsrooms by the trees in the city.

2. Why the woods?

Well, the woods are a huge area of earth and trees, basically it is nature. Fungi's mycelium can grow very well in moist earth and some have symbiotic relationships with trees, so the woods are a perfect place for fungi to grow.

Fungi flourish especially in the autumn because of the rainfall and windy weather, because those two factors can help spores to spread and therefore to help grow more fungi.

Also, in the autumn there are a lot of leaves covering the canopy and because of the moisture wood is more likely to rot, which means there is a lot of dead or rotting organic material for saprobic mushrooms to decompose. The rainfall also offers an oppurtunity for moss to flourish; the moss can retain a lot of moisture which makes it attractive for fungi to grow near.

So basically the woods in the autumn offer fungi two things: a cozy home and tons of food (especially for saprobic mushrooms).

3. So where in the woods should I look?

I would recommend looking for rotting wood, such as rotting tree stumps or timber or whatever, just rotting wood. Sometimes you will find wood covered in a fuzzy white patch, this is most likely mycelium which means you are on the right track. Moss is also a great place to look because it retains so much moisture.

There is a huge chance you will find some kind of fungus if you search in these places.

4. Look closely

Often the case is if you find one there are more, so once you find a mushroom / fungus I would take a close look around you to see if you can spot more of them. Some mushrooms can be really small like just a single centimetre / half an inch tall, or even tinier, so it is definietely important to look closely.

What should I bring with me?

This really depends on what your plans are.

If you are going to photograph fungi, you could bring a trash bag to lie down on so your clothes do not get dirty.

If you are going for research purposes, I would bring a basket to put some fungi in. So they do not get squashed and mushy, it is kind of unpractical when you are going to take samples or make spore prints.

If you are going to touch the fungi in any capacity I would bring a cloth to clean your hands a bit afterwards.

Note : remember you can touch mushrooms and fungi even if they are poisonous, but WASH YOUR HANDS when you get home or before you eat just to be sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mutuals

@squidsandthings @fungus-gnats @fairy-tales-of-yesterday @flamingears @lameotello @lovelyalicorn @writingraccoon @edukincon @emmakapla @jasontoddlovr

[terror-billie]

Glimmers in the Penumbra

I assembled this zine to collect drabbles written for my D&D group, and I'm sharing it with you all today.

This is for you, @tofucasserole , @varethinsilico , @nautilusopus , @rosemochi , and @fury-brand

Special thanks to @fury-brand for drawing the illustrations used in this zine and for buying my drabble commission slots on behalf of the group. She has made a lot of really cool art for our group and for her character Dia especially, so you should check it out if you like this!

This was a really fun project. It was great to play in the 100 word limit with different styles and character voices to make something tailored for each character.

I assembled this zine so that I could make a special and unique home for all of the pieces together. It was put together in Scribus, a free and open source layout tool.

If you enjoyed this zine, please consider a donation to Crips for eSims for Gaza or at Gaza Funds.

Full Text Transcript Below the Cut

Full Text Transcript

Glimmers in the Penumbra A Tabletop Roleplay OC Drabble Collection

--

Embodied

The snow feels wrong. It mushes against the strange pliant dough stretched across her soles, shoots her through with a kind of pain she's never felt before. It bites, metallic, as though she can feel the pinprick of each shard of each snow flake. The air, too, grips her. All of this, wrong. Never before had the winds caused her pain, nor had snow felt anything but pleasant on even her tenderest scales. Winter has abandoned her. It was in her very weft and now all she has is this naked pink putty. No way for a dragon to live.

Dia Istehar

[Includes an illustration of Dia holding herself in a gust of snow and wind.]

--

L’Enfer

Fire's heat. Warms, tickles, crisps. Pleasure becomes pain. Sears, destroys, consumes. Ashes to ashes.

Vous qui entrez, abandonnez toute espérance.

No way to snuff a forest fire once it's caught hot and tall, naught but to let the blaze run out. A heart is like that. A little fire you can throw water over, but the burn in him grows fast. All you can do is get out the way.

Watch for smoke.

What's a flame want? Nothing but to burn. Bright and hot, alive until it's out. Doesn't care what's burning, where or how. But a man's heart? Well.

L’Enfer - The Inferno Vous qui entrez, abandonnez toute espérance. - Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

Ozias DeVir

[Includes an illustration of Ozias lighting a cigarette.]

--

Song of the Princess

She is come from a castle in a far away land, from a lineage ruling for generations.

Hath traveled the lands in great odyssey, and suffered many a hardship and poverty.

O Princess, Sweetest Briar with thorns sharp, stand strong against despair. Nobility is not in gold but in heart and deed and bearing. Retain thy grace and thy dignity. Fear not the dark and the wicked, for thou art puissant. Magic courseth through thy veins as fish in a stream.

Know that one day thou wilt reclaim thy birthright. So sayeth this poem, written in serenade of a princess.

Briar Allaire

[Includes an illustration of Briar, regal in a crown.]

--

Idle Musing

Life should be fun. Things would be far too boring without a bit of mischief to keep it interesting, ya know? Just a dash like spice in the stew. Nothing serious, maybe swipe a shiny here or snack there.

Things can change pretty fast out on the road though. It gets scary out there, with monsters and bad guys. Sometimes I think I should have just stayed home.

But hey, one minute you're strumming along up and down the strings of a bouzouki, tickling the melody to and fro, and bam! Out comes the zouka. Didn't expect that, didja spookies?

Kaapro

[Includes an illustration of Kaapro, a Kenku, smiling and playing a bouzouki.]

--

Sacrament

"Go and sin no more."

The other man, the one on the other side of the wooden screen, knows what a joke it is. He says it anyway, and manages not to laugh. It's procedure after all.

A rosary and an extra Our Father. A man's life snuffed out, his blood on the stone, and all Lucere needs to do is mumble some words.

Done in God's name, isn't it a Holy act?

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Deliverance won't come, but so too will he sin again. He always has and always will.

Lucere Crough

[Includes an illustration of Lucere holding a rosary in his hand, covering half of his face.]

--

Just World Fallacy

Let us consider the situation rationally. Which situation is more likely?

The first, that I was conceived by two emotionally stunted people unprepared for the maturity, care, and mundane sacrifices of parenthood? That I lived at the whims of a man who took out rage and fear on his vulnerable son? That my mother could bring me into the world but shrink my existence so small in her heart that she could ignore it? That suffering is largely beyond our control and the world is fundamentally unfair?

Or that I am unloveable and it's my fault?

The answer is obvious.

Pinion Andolus

[Includes an illustration of Pinion where you cannot see his face, gazing at unbalanced scales.]

--

Knight in Shining Armor

My face mirrored in a gleaming scale. I chased it like the glint of oasis after days walking parched sands. Was it a mirage? I follow its path and come no closer, but the image does not fade. Still there, out of reach, ever on the horizon.

What is she really like? I've imagined her on the highest pedestal, with every sublime virtue, and in the deepest depravity, with every foul cruelty. Perhaps she is simply a well-meaning fool, doing her best.

Do I truly want to know? Would the mirage dissolve, and would that be for good or ill?

Okaara Justa

[Includes an illustration of Okaara, a half-orc, gazing at her own reflection in a piece of plate armor.]

--

寝袋詰め 心の準備 と出かける

「一緒に」

romaji reading: shurafuzume kokoro no junbi to dekakeru

「issho ni」

The bedrolls are wrapped. Ready for what awaits them, the party sets forth.

[Together]

[No illustration]

[archivist-the-knight]

hi. xiv analysis. i'm putting some stuff under the cut because that's all things relating to spoilers for the later half of the video jic.

firstly, xiv is a tiefling, but the exact tiefling subrace isn't specified in the video. i'd assume they're a Mephistopheles tiefling, given their appearance in game and the fact that meph tieflings are proficient in arcane magic. they're also known for being in more colder climates. i'll bring this up later.

they're a wild magic sorcerer, which is, in my opinion, super important to know to understand about their character. there's a multitude of ways I can describe it, but I think dnd 5e does a good job as it corresponds with Xiv's story. (link)

[Your innate magic comes from the wild forces of chaos that underlie the order of creation. You might have endured exposure to some form of raw magic, perhaps through a planar portal leading to Limbo, the Elemental Planes, or the mysterious Far Realm. Perhaps you were blessed by a powerful fey creature or marked by a demon. Or your magic could be a fluke of your birth, with no apparent cause or reason. However it came to be, this chaotic magic churns within you, waiting for any outlet.]

now. the spoilery content ^_^. also because this post is going to be like so long every kid with autism. [also very big warning for in-depth discussion of child abuse, particularly from a father, and the affects that has on said child. if you don't wanna read that part you don't have to]

xiv's father, even with the 13 other arcane batteries, is a very powerful man. he's a meph tiefling, giving him proficiency with arcane magic, and is probably a sorcerer like xiv. so, given that... the most logical explanation of xiv gaining the wild aspect of their magic is through enduring exposure to raw magic. Sure, it could potentially be "marked by a demon" given the fact they're a tiefling, but... Xiv's father isn't the best person.

bringing back the meph tieflings living in cold climates thing!! xiv mentioned they lived in a tower of sorts, far enough away where their father could keep them secluded. judging by the usage of negative space and scene layouts in their background animatic, we can retain the information that besides their father, they basically knew very little about the outside world growing up.

^^ tldr abt that. the animatic noticably gets more detailed as xiv both gets older and starts to doubt their father, and has its most detail when they have the wild magic explosion, and when they're escaping only to be put on the mindflayer ship ^_^.

anyway. with all of this to say, xiv's father is not a good man at all. he's done this 13 other times before getting to xiv, and didn't even give them an actual name. just the roman designation of it. he gave xiv a false, hopeful promise about how if they "honed their power, they could leave the tower", but fully intended to keep them there. it is slightly implied that their father got more abusive, more impatient and violent towards Xiv the more they messed up the more their magic lashed out even though it was wild by nature.

this is not good fatherly behavior!! telling them something that would never come true, especially basing it on their skill, they must have the worst damned imposter syndrome known to man!! second guessing themselves, thinking they're never good enough or having to check with the man who made that rule to see if anything they do is good... that isn't healthy!! that isn't a good thing to teach to your child!!

now back to xiv. that one "sex book" throwaway thing is brief but it says. so much about how xiv's father raised them?? i do not care if im looking too much into it but it literally implies that xiv just. doesn't know a lot about things beyond what their father's told them or what were in the books he probably gave them as a kid. combine that with the fact that they immeadily "push out" the mournful thoughts about rai's death to deal with "more important matters"... oh my god... they call me mx head of the xiv emotional support group... the ceo if you will...

and now... another important stepping stone to understanding xiv... rai's death.

first off xiv shapeshifting in the middle of the fight and going "no, not now, goddamnit-" its said in such a tone thats just so... not only is it because it's during such an important moment while they're fighting someone they consider a friend. it's almost as if they've been conditioned to believe that aspect of them isn't good. even though its what helps distract Rai so Tal can attack him. it's like they view it as something that needs to stop instead of something they can't control. which is. probably what their father saw it as! something that xiv needed to stop doing instead of honing to their abilities!

secondly... xiv is a sorcerer. you might be asking "eden!! weren't we just over this?" yeah but. rai... is also a sorcerer. he has the power to harness the storm. the first thing xiv says to rai during the fight is "you see, this is exactly why sorcerers shouldn't learn how to read! you always acted like you're so much better than me; we never should have trusted you!"

and that line in general. it's so. it's the last thing xiv says before rai dies. how did rai act like he was better than xiv? did they tell him this beforehand? is it something they kept locked up, never expressing until this moment? was it on purpose, or was it accidental? was it xiv, seeing rai do things they never learned how to do, and feeling jealous, angry, that he had a chance and they didn't? that rai got the joy of not knowing his parents, while xiv knew their father all too well?

and the sorcerer part... it's not only a dig at rai but themselves. they should've never learned how to read. they shouldn'tve been forced to spend ages in that library, learning spells and incantations instead of just trying to be a little kid. its so subtle yet it speaks so much about how xiv views themselves.

okay. that is basically it for canon stuff. this next part is headcanons/theories that i think are important for the discussion but aren't canon but. i still wanna yap <3

I think the tower/castle xiv grew up in is like, in a snowy mountain close to baldur's gate. it's quite the hike to get there and back but you can kind of see it through certain higher areas of the city. the tower is either positioned behind or to the side of the mountain. the side would be so evil because xiv seeing only a glimpse of the city...

i have this theory that xiv's father was a general or colonel for a war that tal was involved in, with tal's mother being a general as well. thus, i think xiv's only contact with people is either the other generals of this war, or their potential children that were brought over during the occasional meeting or dinner party. very vauge but regardless. smirks.

finally i think xiv was allowed out only on very slim occasions, usually when they begged their father hands and knees or when they did good on training. they were allowed to go with their father into the town of baldur's gate, but if they strayed from him they would be punished. severely. xiv usually went to bed that night hungry, in pain, but happy^_^

ok thats it for real. love peace and joy have a wonderful day <333

[cervicrazed]

Redoing @the-goblin-cat 's Whole Hog Request bc I answered the wrong set of questions 🤦🏽

OC Lore for Dead Wood's resident "Goat" Boy Below:

^ This is Kennedy Leeds! ((& Devil Form))

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Kennedy was originally designed by @psygull and given to me as a gift!!

He was The Jersey Devil reimagined as a high School athlete so I named him Kennedy (jock name) Leeds (name of the family from Jersey Devil folklore)

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

He meets Bambi (aka enters the story) at 18

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

He's got a small crush on Jak L., but is trying to find the right way to ask her out. He's seemingly oblivious to her flirtations with Bambi

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Growing up with 12 other siblings kinda turned mealtime into a Battle Royale, so he'd visit the local food market in the evenings after school. His favorite dish comes from Ms. Hayes' stand; a bowl of fried rice topped with grilled catfish and garnished with Devil's Fruit (a sweet red fruit with two stems that look like little devil horns. Needs to be De-Hexed before eaten, otherwise it'll taste bitter & you could end up w/ a magical foodbourne illness)

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Was a student until very recently - helps Bambi on fetch quests for The Lich Doctor in exchange for magical items to resell on the side.

Also runs a pest contol hustle but strangely only books appointments for the 13th of every month.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Meditation! He got into it hoping it would better help him retain control when in his Devil Form; he's able to stay conscious and aware for a full 30 seconds now!

🎯 -What do they do best?

His first and only answer would be Hockey; he's ingrained it so deeply into his identity he's not sure who he'd be without it. In reality, he's a natural leader when thrust into stressful situations (which happens a lot!)

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Kennedy loves opportunities to show off his strength; be it knocking through walls or deadlifting a horse, he can't help but feel a sense of pride from the admiration. It's one of the few positives his curse affords him

He has a zero tolerance policy for anyone who threatens his family, Found or Biological! (Minus his dad though, he hates that guy)

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

His first time ice skating! When he was about 13 or so, the lake froze over and he was dared by Siblings 10, 9, & 7 to go skating across the thinnest part. Not one to shy away from a challenge, Kennedy went for it - just narrowly avoiding falling into the freezing water. He did still trip and chip a tooth on the ice, but the thrill and joy of skating never left him.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Coming home from school one day to find his mother bed ridden with blisters blooming into flower shaped scabs all across her body; Hexed by unclean food. The potion that could cure her required 'The Blood of the Beloved', but when Kennedy volunteered she told him point blank; "I don't love you enough for that to work."

He quit school to hunt down his dad shortly after.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Yes & No -> his current design is technically my take on Psygull's original one, but the major beats are still there; slightly shaved head, letterman jacket, cocky grin, etc

I keep changing his Devil Form but I think I'll end up just keeping it the way she originally had it (maybe w/ a few more goat features)

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

I don't know! He was a gift 😌🎁

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

Whatever genre combines a Disney Channel Sports Movie with a Brother's Grimm fairy tale

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Cis + Bisexual! 🩷💜💙

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

12! (That poor woman)

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Tentative.

He tries to do right by his mother, but he can sense she kind of blames him for his dad skipping town. There's a certain bitterness she has for him that he can never seem to alleviate. He feels like nothing he does will ever make her proud.

He resents his father with his entire being. He passed down The Devil Curse onto him and instead of sticking around to help him learn how to deal with it, he left as soon as he was born. Kennedy doesn't understand what was so wrong with him that his dad couldn't be bothered to stay.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

The family dynamics & his own Big Brother persona he adopts when w/ Bambi & co.

He pretends to be a bastard but he's got such an obvious soft spot for the people he cares about it never really sticks - it's a really fun trait to play with

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

On and off, but a little more so recently bc I gotta update his ref sheet

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

No!!!!!!! Inconceivable

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Monophobia -> fear of being alone or abandoned 💔

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

The OG Jersey Devil

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Since January 2019!

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

I was 17 when Roz handed me this fun little guy

[teecupangel]

I am so sorry, I just now realized I sent my rant to you via an ask, I don't know if that is the correct way or if a dm would have been more appropriate. I don't know if I even made a whole lot of sense in the last 'ask' but I hope you will understand what I mean.

So that this one will be a ask/request, I wanted to ask you if you have still the ideas for the HZD AltDes Au? I scrolled through your notes ideas post and that one immediately catched my eyes. Like I can kind of imagine that either one would have a similar plot like Aloy? Maybe someone who worked either alongside Elisabeth Sobeck or would replace her(and therefore Aloy) and then it could follow a similar route like base HZD and Forbidden west. Maybe Desmond would be the genetical clone to the scientist working alongside Elisabeth like Aloy is to her but instead of just having the genetic necessary code he would retain the memory's or regain them to fight the rogue AI (I don't know the name anymore, I really have to play the games again, love them). If Desmond/Altaïr would replace Aloy or have similar plot like her, maybe the other one could either be like a childhood friend/stepbrother like in your fic Old Mentor or another 'clone' (with the explanation why there are two clones, so that it is guaranteed that at least one will see the light of day and potentially save the world from further destruction with the right genetic code (Hehe)). OR to connect it to the AC universe (and I kind of just got the idea from your Old Mentor fic) like, Desmond survives the solar flare, Altaïr is for whatever reason with him in the 21th century, helps him survive the eye etc. From some Isu crap or whatever they have a like a vision or something from the future (HZD, more like the war with the machines who absorb biomatter), they work on it to not really prevent it but like ensure that humanity will live through the catasrophe and put their DNA like Elisabeth Sobeck into the project for the future.

I just scrolled up and realized I might have just grabbed the plot bunny and ran like a mad man, ups

Nah, you’re good. I like reading rants hahahaha

I can’t find the HZD AltDes AU idea post so I’m not sure what I’ve already written and what I didn’t include in the post itself sooooo…

Let’s just make this a separate idea where AltDes happens during HZD lollol.

We’ll borrow a bit from my HFW x AC crossover oneshot Falconry for this one.

In this one, Altaïr would be Aloy’s twin although they look nothing alike. The real reason for this is that they were both born at the same time with Aloy being born from Sobek’s DNA but Altaïr is a bit of an anomaly.

The plan had been for Desmond to be cloned using Sample 17 but Sobek only had a small sample of an already small sample.

Not to mention, due to Ted Faro’s actions, the sample wasn’t in its best state but it did manage to create an imperfect clone unlike Aloy.

The two of them were raised together and Aloy acts more like an older sister to Altaïr who preferred to be quiet and seemed to see things that others cannot see.

Many things he’s weird and Aloy always try to beat them up because of this.

Aloy is pretty good with figuring how machines work while Altaïr likes to make new things based on the scraps and metal they get.

They were a constant headache to Rost, that was for sure.

The thing about Altaïr is… he has a friend.

A friend that only he could see.

Someone who grows with him and talks to him and play with him whenever Aloy was busy or Rost wasn’t looking.

The boy’s name is ‘Desmond Miles’.

Desmond thinks he’s a ghost. A person who had died and was now haunting Altaïr.

And he knows a lot of things. Not the machines but the much older tech.

Desmond likes to say that they were living in a distant future after humanity probably ‘fucked up so badly’.

It took years for Altaïr to understand everything that Desmond was saying.

To Desmond, his life ended when the world was just ‘starting’ to bring what he liked to call ‘sci-fi-esque’ technology to life.

The machines they hunt are part of that sci-fi-esque future that Desmond never saw.

But the really older artifacts that Desmond liked to call ‘technology’, those he knows or can guess what they do.

He’s ramblings are what give Altaïr an idea of how he can make new inventions using those parts.

At the very least, the parts that Rost didn’t take away because he didn’t want them messing with machines and stuff.

Altaïr knows that Desmond knows more than he’s letting on but it was fine if Desmond doesn’t want to share them yet.

Sooner or later, he will.

That was the kind of person Desmond was, after all.

.

Unorganized Notes:

Yes, in this one, Desmond is the ‘Bleed’ XD

To be more exact, because of the botched cloning, Altaïr is like Aloy, his own person who shared the DNA of their source (Sobek/Sample 17)

Unfortunately, because of both Sample 17’s current state when it was used and the genetic makeup of Desmond himself, Altaïr gets a ‘genetic ghost’ for the ride.

Desmond remembers everything. He does think that Altaïr is not really Altaïr but a person who just coincidentally got Altaïr’s name. He acts as a friend and companion to Altaïr growing up and he does see Aloy as a younger sister.

Which is funny because Aloy thinks she’s older than Altaïr and Altaïr never tried to complain about that and went along with it.

HZD and HFW plot go along with Altaïr for the ride as Aloy’s tagalong brother. Aloy gets a lot of sweet tools and weapons because the two of them together… well… Desmond is just glad they don’t have the drive and time to try and figure out how to make nuclear weapons

Altaïr (and Desmond) learned the truth behind his birth at the same time as Aloy and it doesn’t change the fact that Aloy sees Altaïr as her brother and Altaïr sees her as his sister.

(Rost lives because I say so)

Towards the start of HFW, Altaïr (with GAIA’s help) managed to create a small eagle machine that can show Desmond as a hologram by staying connected to Altaïr’s focus so Aloy and the others can finally see him. Before that, towards the end of HZD, they can hear Desmond if they connect with Altaïr’s focus with their own focus

Now the twist of HFW connected to Beta and Far Zenith also happens but this is where we get a few more plot points from Falconry

Far Zenith has a puppet by the name of Seventeen

And after GAIA talked to Beta, she believed she can use Seventeen to give Desmond his own body

[yuukei-yikes]

i extended on something i wrote months ago in the subject of shinene codependency (and shinaya breakup) but its hidden in a Much longer post under a read more so i wanted to make it into its own post for my kagenalysis tag❤️:

to rant a bit abt the "personal narrative" of shintaro. i think it's interesting that shintaro is essentially a very self centered character and kagepro is very meta in the way it treats him as a main character. because inside of kagepro, he really gets as much focus as any other character, they're all "main" character to us. its rather inside the story he plays a very important role therefore he is the protagonist and as the protagonist he puts an end to the story itself too. i think this is all interesting together and fun to dissect shintaro's character as inherently self centered because that's what the story is. the initial premise is that he's a depressed guy living in regret he used to be "such a bad person" to someone he cared deeply about.

his self centeredness shows not only in the way he acts even without retaining activated, but he is really in the center of it. shintaro IS the protagonist and deep down even if he hasn't remembered yet, he knows that. so does everyone else. they all know they depend on him, sooner or later.

and i like to think of all this in a post str context thinking that the way he handles all that in everyday life once this story is over and theyre free from a narrative in the first place, is self destructive because its not compatible to being a normal person. he's a protagonist but there's nothing to be a protagonist OF anymore

so it IS taking him a bit to really LOOK at his friends and stop looking only for himself. technically he's lived a hundred doomed lives and now he's here trying out this one and again it is scary and new and... ene, who's been the most dedicated to centering her life around shintaro, is a clear safe place while navigating this.

he takes takane totally for granted because of this. in the narrative she has always been his sidekick. she has been the second main character to him. she has always lived and served him in all timelines, in all the time theyve known each other that she can't remember and he can, takane has been more ene than she's been takane to him, and ene has always been his annoying lap dog he hates as much as he needs in order for the story to move forward. takane of course reciprocrates the dynamic because it's also all she's known for a year. but... it's a year, vs. shintaro's God Knows How Many resets.

so eventually... as she is free from the narrative and very much her own person outside of him, capable of finding love and priorities somewhere else away from him and OUT LOUD tackling issues like hey we have a codependent dynamic going on we should work on, bc she does normal people stuff like going to therapy, takane moves on. which is mind blowing for shintaro AND HE DOESNT LIKE IT

he shuns it completely whenever takane brings it up, which she does a lot as time goes on. because time keeps going on. it keeps passing by. and everyone around him seems to be growing up and that's so infuriating and so terrifying and then stuff like ayano dating him and dumping him is as much of a reality check as ayano being alive in the first place, and he doesn't know what to do with it other than cry and thrive off the attention takane gives him again upon seeing him broken again.

he's in PAIN but it's familiar. it's comfortable. it's classic. it works. because the story he was a protagonist of was a tragedy, so he doesn't know how to behave when there is hope in the future. ❤️

[agentplutonium]

i’m having thoughts so have these porter/william scene depicting what I think went down during the whole “hey, can you kill this guy for me? thx” conversation:

Porter knew he never was shunned from the Solaire House officially. However, intentions and impact were two different things.

Because he had no official house he belonged to, others were more willing to interact with him. He was able to find out information he never would have been able to under William, just as they intended. The difference was William didn't ask for information anymore. He was radio silent for years now, only getting what Porter sent over. Never responding. Never any kind of follow-up. Never a thank you. Porter was sick of the man.

But then his phone rang, and William's contact came up. Porter just about didn't answer it.

"William," Porter said curtly.

"Porter, it's nice to hear your voice again," William said, in that airy tone he typically had.

"What is it that you want?" Porter asked, expecting him to want intel or give him a new person to keep an eye on. Anything that retained to his current situation. He was not expecting-

"Is there a time we can meet up, talk face to face? There's something we need to discuss that is best done in person."

Porter couldn't stop himself from agreeing, even if his stomach twisted at the thought of seeing him after so long.

And that was how Porter ended up with King Solaire on the living room couch as if he belonged there. He looked so at ease like they do this every weekend. Porter handed the wine over, sitting on the far end of the couch.

"Thank you, Porter," William said with a genuine smile. "How have you been recently?"

"You'd know if you actually called every once in a while," Porter quipped without thinking.

William's demeanour deflated a little. "I know. I am sorry for not keeping up with you. I should have tried harder. I did miss you these past few years."

Porter wasn't sure how to respond. Did he mean that? Or was he just saying that? Instead, he opted to move on. "Let's not waste time with small talk."

"Can I not catch up with an old friend?" William questioned, his mood back to where it was before.

Porter's heart gave a twinge at the term. "You said you had something to discuss," he reminded William.

William sighed, placing his glass down. "I suppose so," he said, sounding genuinely upset that the small talk was ending. Porter could never even begin to understand William's moods. "It is concerning the House of Bennett and what you told me recently."

Porter was well aware. He threw that information at William in hopes he would actually respond to him for once. It was met with the same silence he had been getting. "What do you need me to do?"

William chuckled, "always so eager to help me," he muttered, "you don't change, Porter Solaire."

Porter ignored how his stomach and heart did a flip at the words.

"What I'm about to ask of you is a lot, even by our standards," William prefaced, tone growing serious. "The House of Bennett, as you know, is funding the group Close Knit. We have found evidence that Close Knit was in on the Inversion, and where the Bennett's were supporting them they, too, are at fault."

Porter knew this, and he didn't understand why William was mentioning it again. "Yeah, and what about it?"

William took a moment before he answered, regarding Porter carefully. "I need your help in... taking out King and Prince Bennett."

Porter floundered for a few moments, the words sinking in. "You want me to kill them?!"

"One of them," William corrected. "If things go according to plan, and I have little doubt in it, the other will be executed for murdering his King."

Porter scoffed, rubbing his hands along his face. "This is insane, even for you, WIll," he said after a moment. "You want us to play God?"

"I want those responsible for the death of thousands of people to be held responsible. If we let this one slide under the rug, it is as if we are excusing the actions of Close Knit," William said, voice resolute. "Don't you trust me, Porter?" he continued, voice softening.

Porter looked at William for a long time, those kind eyes he knew so well looking back. The worst part was he did. He'd trust William with his life. He'd trust him with his very essence. William would tell him to jump and he'd ask how high. If William said he needed Porter's help, then who was he to say no?

However, this was different. William was asking Porter to kill for him.

"I don't know, Will," Porter said quietly. "I'd do anything for you, you know that, but something like this is..."

William moved closer to Porter, hand reaching out to rest against his knee. Again, Porter ignored how it made his heart flip. "It has to be you," William said earnestly, leaning close. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with this. You're the best man for the job."

The more William talked, the more that Porter's, very minimal, resolve was wavering. The way that William looked at him, as if Porter was his whole world. As if he genuinely did need him for this.

"If you're not going to do this for them, then do it for me," William continued, "do it for an old friend."

Porter couldn't take it any longer. "Okay. Okay, I will. For you, I will."

William broke out into a huge grin, sitting upright again but still staying close. He gave Porter's knee a small squeeze as he said, "That's my boy. Thank you. This means a lot to me."

Porter didn't say anything, revelling in how William looked at him. His eyes warm, regarding him in a way that Porter hasn't seen in so long. He learned today that his devotion to William ran deeper than he thought, and yet he found himself unafraid of this revelation.

He loved William. For better, or for worse.

[exoticalmonde]

Part III. Hortus de Escapismo Dr. Evealia's Reaction

Transcribed: [The executor suddenly points.

Federico: Come out.

Lively Child: Ah... he found us.]

They are so cute but god do I need Executor with his gun pointed at the little kids and their reaction being... 0. Like, absolutely not impressed and simply disappointed he did find them so quickly.

---

READ MORE to find out what happens to the cute little blue-haired child with the adorable duck sock puppet by clicking this funky little button.

(But WARNING, the following post contains spoilers about the entire Hortus de Escapismo event, including the story, art and my commentary. I think this part is covering HE-4 to the first half of HE-6)

THEY ALMOST FREAKING EXPLODE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS HOLY MOLY STOP TRYING TO GIVE ME HEART ATTACKS ONE OF THOSE WILL BE REAL!!!

---

No... My heart, oh no, not the flowers...

Transcribed: [Gerald once said the Sakraz have no home, only war that follows them wherever they go. They swore to their lord in the hope of finding a home of their own.]

---

Oh Clément I am so sorry... Stupid wench was she the one who set the chapel on fire? Is she even capable of using that kind of arts? Or is this an illusion? I am actually really heartbroken, I like Clément and I was really happy that he existed as a fellow Felafia, but... Why is it just not working out for this guy?

I'll get you a greenhouse with all you need it in babo, stay strong.

---

Yeah, my heart is.

---

Transcribed: [Race is not proof of innocence. I would not hesitate to destroy the sacrarium if I thought it necessary.]

*Hands Federico the 'best not racist' award*

Or ultimately

*Hands Federico the 'most racist' award*

At this point I don't know, but you do what you're doing.

---

Hey, the baby ducks found a new mom.

---

Transcribed: [

Lemuen: Quiet. This is a resedential area. You'll bother the others.

Twisted Monster: (Growls)]

You know what, forget the whole 'amazing strong character' trope that Arknights has going on for everybody, can we just sit and enjoy the fact they always talk to themselves, or to something that is supposedly incapable of understanding them the same way every person speaks to their pets. They don't expect a reaction, and in moments where it FEELS like it was a reaction they have a kick out of it, but otherwise they're... so sweet to watch. In a horrendeous and terribly traumatic way.

---

Transcribed: [The Executor kneels down. No one pays attention to the dirt on the edge of his robe, and the adornments that represent his status.

Federico Giallo gazes straight into the children's eyes.

Federico: The disappearence of an inhabitant is within the scope of my mission.

Federico: Yes, I will find your mother.]

What a wonderful, wonderful, amazing scene. To watch Federico retain his personality but also grow as a character after being introduced to his tasks in the new role he carries is so refreshing. Reading the story feels so short, the levels are hell, but the way he is growing is GOOD and well-paced.

---

Honestly, bast scene. I don't care what terrors and sadness or how cool they will be, this is peak interaction.

---

[Quite the lady's man, aren't you?]

GERALD YOU TEASE!

---

Shots fired, yet no guns were raised.

---

What do I feel about Aulus apart from the fact he kind of reminds me of a taller Pantalone (Genshin Impact)? He fed the creature, he protects it and then just shows up here and there to talk to people and refuses to elaborate. What is your plan? What are you even doing with your life, Father Aulus?

Though guys, I think he found the coolest stick...

---

SHE STOOD! SHE STOOD UP!! LEMUEN???? STOOD UP??? FROM HER WHEELCHAIR????

---

[You may not set foot in Paradise.]

LOOK AT HER GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

---

[The thin door plank is pushed open from the outside.]

I want to die.

ANYTHING BUT THAT PLEASE

[The unsuspected visitors do not disturb their soft breathing.]

[It falls into the soft, meek little 'prison'.]

Wait a second...?

[Twisted Monster: Eren... Sara...]

Oh thank GOODNESS, my heart was about to leap out from my chest. What a rollercoaster. I am so glad they're safe, thank you.

[sitp-recs]

hi lovely 🤍

can you please rec me some gardener!harry or gardener!draco drarry fics, please! it's a new fixation of mine :)

thank you!!🤍

Hi anon, of course! That’s such a darling trope. I hope you enjoy these 🪴

Love Flies Delighted by Omi_Ohmy (T, 2.4k)

A summer's day, bees, stings, magic and honey: basically this fic is fluff on little wings.

Harry, Harry, Quite Contrary by @maesterchill (T, 3.8k)

It's almost Midsummer, and that can only mean one thing! Time for Upper Itchington's annual Tidy Streets contest. Draco Malfoy is supremely confident his street will retain the title. It just takes one contrary neighbour to bollocks things up: a certain Mr Harry Potter.

Garden War by @cibeewastaken (T, 4.8k)

Harry and Draco are quarantined in their houses, a lake across from one another. What better ways to spend this time than to annoy each other with letters and attempts to prove that their garden is better ?

Service Bell by @shiftylinguini (E, 8k)

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

Deadheading the Odd Dahlia by @peachpety (E, 8.7k)

Harry is content to spend his days at Draco’s flower stall at the farmers market, burying his true feelings in artisanal coffee and rose bouquets. When forced to find new lodgings, he accepts Draco’s offer to live in a cottage at Malfoy Manor, and his long-hidden crush blossoms out of control. Turns out, proximity makes the heart grow fonder.

This Delicious Solitude by Omi_Ohmy (M, 17k)

Draco is sent to investigate Harry’s extraordinary carrots for the Prophet after whispers of cheating rock the world of competitive vegetable cultivation. But how’s he meant to get anywhere when Harry won’t even let him past the garden gate?

Orbit by HenryMercury (E, 52k)

They don't like each other. They're not friends. There's not even a ceasefire of any sort because they're fighting as much as ever—but there's definitely something different about it. An added layer of self-awareness they don't dare identify, but which colours every Scared, Potter? and Do your worst; each You wouldn't dare and Then prove it.

along each garden wall by @oflights (E, 61k)

Draco has to have a baby (or have one on the way) at the time of his fast-approaching 35th birthday, or he's going to lose his home to his vile cousin. Harry offers to help, but their complex past—even beyond Hogwarts—prompts Draco to set out on a long journey of friendship, kittens, gardens, motorbike rides, and more.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Bonus: Drarry art + Dronarry fics

Charlie Weasley's Home for Very Nice Dragons by dustmouth (M)

Harry keeps waking up in bed with his worst enemy. Obviously they still don't like each other, not even a little bit.

Trillium by @wolfpants (E, 13k)

Harry and Draco are shagging. Ron’s got a hunch, and the only way to find out is to volunteer his services alongside Harry’s in the Big Malfoy Manor Cleanup of 2010. What could possibly go wrong? The one where Harry owns a gardening business, Draco is an aspiring National Trust property owner, and Ron is far too invested in the fit of Draco’s lovely clothes and the smell of Harry’s hair. But he doesn’t fancy them or anything like that.

Silhouettes by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 16.7k)

Draco's trying to fix the Burrow, Ron's trying to grieve, and Harry... well, just what is Harry actually doing, anyway? A tale of grief, gardening, and ghouls, bad memories, bad puns, and bad flirting, and nudity both accidental and very, very deliberate.

[hesthermay]

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 (𝐏𝐓 𝟏)

PAIRING: obi-wan kenobi x fem!oc reader

SUMMARY: the shrill sound of blaster fire, red and blue shots of light cutting through the deep fog. the call of a trooper to his general, voice almost blending in with the chaos filling her ears. a blue lightsaber, illuminating the form of a quick and nimble jedi. copper hair, soft and somehow still shiny, as her fingers carded through the strands in the dead of night. flashes, these were—visions and dreams plaguing the goddess of the sun; the sun witch; whatever she may be called. viarruh finnall, the queen of orret, knew she was meant to do more for the galaxy, meant to be out there and meant to be with someone, and with the help of a dear friend that is exactly what will happen.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, slight angst? female oc, use of she/her, mentions of death, soulmate trope, eventual fix it fic. the clone wars time period.

NOTES: this oc and story has been living in my head for actual months. i love viarruh, and i sincerely hope you all do too! her and obi <3 ugh <3 there will be more to this story, i can’t say how many parts bc i’m honestly just winging it but it will follow the clone wars timeline, but it should be alright if you haven’t seen the show. also! i am planning on posting this story to my wattpad! if there are any inaccuracies or things that aren’t quite right, i’m doing my best! but i’m also flying by the seat of my pants so! oops! anyways feedback is always appreciated love u pookies

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

It was quiet in the Jedi Temple, the long corridor leading to the council room almost deserted; save for the four occupants huddled together.

Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala stood side by side as they attempted to offer small comforts to the pair before them. Time seemed to drag on as they all waited, tucked away next to a large column to retain as much privacy as possible, and nerves were understandably growing stronger.

“Just don’t look at him,” the Jedi Knight offered, holding his hands up as if the answer was so simple. He could not be faulted much, however, because he stuck around even when he had no reason to.

“Don’t look at him? I dream about him every night and you expect me not to look at him?” The woman across from him questioned, incredulous words filling the small space of their circle as her sculpted brows furrowed.

“Ani,” Padme sighed, shooting him a small smile nonetheless.

“I think what the General means,” the last member of the group interjected, his low voice easing his companion’s nerves ever so slightly. “Is that when you give your speech, do not focus on him too much. It will only distract you, and…” he drawled, words sounding like a question.

“...it’s something we can unpack later,” the woman finished with a nod, filling her lungs with air before exhaling.

“Good, very good, my dear.” Aged hands squeezed her shoulders before her attention was drawn elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the form approaching them from afar, and it was familiar to her, but it was not the man she was stressing over.

It was a Kel Dorian, a Jedi the woman had seen more than once in her visions. When he was within earshot, the woman hesitated before she opened her mouth. “Koh-to-yah, Master,” she greeted, attempting a small smile. A small effort, a metaphorical hand outstretched to make a good impression, and the man stopped in his tracks upon hearing her. It was difficult to read him due to the mask covering his face, but he bowed his head in return. A choice, to accept the hand.

“Koh-to-yah, Your Majesty,” his deep voice replied, before he continued the short trek to the council room.

“Okay, it shouldn’t be too long now that Master Plo is here,” Anakin explained. “I promise, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

There was no time to reply to him, for the doors opened and the Jedi from before, Master Plo, stepped out. “You may enter, Your Majesty. I do apologize for the wait.” He held out one arm clad in armor, and the woman detached herself from her support group with one last glance.

“Oh, no apology needed, Master,” she assured, voice soft as she passed him and crossed the threshold into the large room. Before her sat every member of the Jedi Council, some in person, some over holocall, but they all gazed upon her in a daunting semi-circle.

Her eyes zeroed in on him immediately, breath catching in her throat and heart freezing in her chest. Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his copper hair that shone in the sunlight that streamed through the many windows, was somehow even more perfect in person than in her dreams, and she did not know how that was possible.

She hoped that her face didn’t give her away, cursing herself for the falter in her stride when they made eye contact. She dismissed it, told herself to give no thought to the way it looked as if the man struggled just as much upon seeing her. That was impossible, a trick of the mind; for she was only human after all.

The young woman was suddenly aware of every aspect of herself, from the way her dress lay as she stood in the middle of the room to how heavy the crown she often wore felt on that day.

“A pleasure to see you, it is, Viarruh Finnall,” came the croaky voice of Master Yoda, and so that was where she chose to focus her eyes as she forced herself to remain calm.  

“The pleasure is all mine, I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to hear me out,” she smiled, as polite as ever in a formal meeting. She did not have much experience with Jedi, but she did have some when it came to being a Queen.

“Of course,” the man sat next to Yoda replied, his hands clasped before him. “What can we help you with, Your Majesty?”

Viarruh took another deep breath, gathering her bearings before she dove into the explanation she could only hope she delivered in a clear and concise way. Her hands reached down and fluffed her dress slightly as her lips parted, nerves shoved to the back of her mind. “How much do you know of my planet’s culture?”

A moment passed in silence, her eyes flitting from one Jedi to the next, before she continued. “Or, more specifically, how much do you know about my family?” Another beat of silence, and she began her little walk around the circle she stood in, movement helping to disperse the nerves buzzing throughout her. “In my family, the crown is passed down from Queen to Queen, traditionally mother to daughter; and that is because we possess something that I understand to be somewhat similar to the Force,” she paused, eyes landing on Obi-Wan subconsciously. He was stoic as ever, hand raised to cover his chin as he listened, and was little comfort in the moment.

“It’s ancient, older than old, and it’s…” she laughed slightly, arms moving about as she spoke. “It’s magic. That’s the only word for it. Some have called us goddesses of the sun, others have called us sun witches; regardless of that, we are capable of things normal humans cannot do. We have a connection to the sun and possess abilities that aid us in protecting our planet, our people. Traditionally,” she sighed, “mother would teach daughter how to use and strengthen these abilities, but I have been without my teacher for quite some time. I haven’t had my master to help me, I’ve been on my own with only the light to guide me in the right direction, and I will not lie to you all. There are things I still don’t know about myself, things I’m still learning. This magic, it only grows stronger as time passes, just as I do, and I have not mastered much yet.”

“Magic?” Someone questioned from behind Viarruh, and she twirled around to face the man. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but magic is not real.”

This reaction was not one Viarruh was unfamiliar with. The condescending tone in the Cerean’s voice did nothing but roll off her back like water. Just as she was about to respond, someone beat her to it. A few seats away, a Togrutan woman illuminated in blue as she called from wherever she resided, addressed her colleague. “Master Mundi, perhaps we should keep an open mind, this galaxy is bigger than you might think.”

The man, Mundi, as it turned out, grumbled to himself but settled into his seat nonetheless. A small smile stretched across the queen’s face, and she lit up with an idea. “On the contrary, Master Mundi,” she raised a finger, and spun around to find the beams of light trickling into the circular room. “Magic is real, and I can show you.”

She stepped forward, hand outstretched before it was enveloped in the streams of warmth. Not a moment later, the light began to shimmer around her hand, golden sparkles covering her skin even after she pulled away. She held it up to show everyone, eyes flitting down the line of people before they settled on Master Plo. The grin she shot him was, all things considered, tame compared to her usual mischievous smirk, but the man did not know that. As the woman floated towards him, all he could think of was Ahsoka Tano, and how she must be a copycat for she looked almost the same when a plan formed in her mind.  

When she finally stood before him, slender fingers were placed on his forehead and the still glittering light showered down and covered his entire body. Warmth filled him to the brim, as if the sun itself was beating down on a summer’s afternoon, and his eyes shut momentarily. When they opened again, Viarruh was still standing before him, hands at her sides but giving him a hopeful look. “Fascinating,” he mused, and the woman chuckled before bowing her head and returning to her spot. Behind her back, Plo made eye contact with Yoda before he nodded just once.

“That,” Viarruh began again, “was only a simple trick, but I feel a good example of how real my connection with the sun is. Recently, it seems I have…unlocked something. A new ability, something I had seen my mother deal with but not something she ever had the chance to help me with. I have been having visions and dreams,” she explained, face serious as she grew closer to the heart of her speech, the real reason she had called upon the Council.

“And they are only getting stronger and more persistent. Every day, now multiple times each, my mind is taken over and my eyes glow golden and all I can see is this war. I have seen it all,” she stressed, nodding her head a few times at the disbelief on some of the master’s faces. “The assassination attempts on Senator Amidala’s life, the Battle on Geonosis,” she listed, eyes wide. “I’ve seen a handful of you fight in battles, seen you risk your lives against swarms of droids. And I see myself, too; fighting with you, helping you and your men bring this closer to an end one day at a time.”

The room was so silent, one could’ve heard a pin drop, if anyone dared to move a muscle, that is. Every Jedi sat frozen in their seats, eyes all trained on the woman in the center of the room, and for a moment she felt like prey being stalked by predators. But she could not afford to let that get to her, let it throw her off her game because she was in too deep now to back out, to lose.

“I know, I know it sounds absurd, but it’s the truth. I have never been so certain about anything in my entire life, as I am about the fact that I am meant to do something in this war. I can feel it in my bones,” her fists clenched to emphasize her words, eyes boring into each and every person they landed on. “I believe that every person in this galaxy has a purpose, something they are meant to do, either for themselves or someone else; and I know in my heart of hearts, in every crevice of my mind, that I am meant to fight with you. My entire life, I have always had an intuition that rivaled anyone around me; sometimes I just know things and I am seldom wrong. I have never been led to believe I cannot trust my emotions, and that is how I know these visions mean something. I see with more than eyes.”

Her feet stopped moving, planting themselves in the dead center of the circle she had been pacing with toes pointed right at Master Kenobi. “Please,” she breathed. “You have to believe me, have to trust me that this is meant to happen.” His blue eyes bore into her, and she could not find it in herself to look away from them. If anyone in this room believed her, it had to be Obi-Wan. He had to know that she saw things beyond herself, that she thought of him every day and maybe, just maybe, she could tell him that she also dreamt of him every night. During the day, it was battles and clones, lightsabers and blaster fire; but at night, it was him. Moments of sneaking affection, fingertips brushing fingertips, late night conversations where no prying eyes could catch them, kisses, soft and sweet and sacred in their secrecy.

When she finally did break contact, flashes of his laughing face being pushed to the side, she looked to Master Yoda. “I love my job, and I love my people, but it eats away at me sitting in that castle instead of being out there.” Her voice shook under the severity of her emotions, the weight of her words and what they meant too heavy to hold steady in front of the audience. “I am absolutely riddled with guilt every time I see a clone fall, or a Jedi get cut down, and I know I can’t save everyone but I know I could do something.”

It had been a long while of Viarruh being the only one speaking, everyone else sitting in silence as she spilled everything that had been occupying her mind for months, so when she finally concluded her speech there was a pregnant pause, a swallowing quiet that left a pit in her stomach. This was it, she had nothing left to add to change their minds, should they send her away with her insane claims and delirious visions. She knew full well how crazy her request was, to want to fight in a war when her days consisted of royalty and sunshine, but it was about doing what was right, not what was easy.

A croaky voice broke the silence, bringing all eyes to a green Jedi huddled in his chair. “Thank you, I do, for coming forward with your visions. Frightening, it is, to share something unknown.” His head bowed slightly, ears moving with him. “Some time, we will need, to discuss things. From the temple, stray not, please.”

Relief, in its purest form, washed over her when his words registered. She was not being sent away with no thought to what she had to say, she was not laughed at for the emotion she showed.

“Of course,” she answered, bowing her head as well. “Thank you for your time. I shall be with General Skywalker in the meantime.” With that, she turned to make her exit, eyes lingering on a copper haired Jedi just a moment longer than they should have before her feet carried her across the room and over the threshold. Behind her, the doors shut and her shoulders slumped, closing her eyes while the sounds of shuffling feet filled her ears.

“Well?” Padme urged, unsatisfied with the lack of information being given.

“They listened to you, didn’t they?” Anakin fired immediately after, and Viarruh was struck with how similar they could be. Two peas in a pod, they were.

The young woman nodded her head, careful to mind the headpiece she wore once it bumped on the wall behind her. “Yes, they listened. No, Obi-Wan didn’t speak to me,” she answered, already knowing those were the two hot questions burning on everyone's minds. “Master Yoda said they would need time to discuss things, and not to stray from the temple.”

“Well, that’s good,” the eldest member of the group pointed out, aged face displaying a hopeful expression. “They could have said no and sent you home, but they’re considering.”

“Ellman’s right,” Padme interjected, face serious now that the first step of their plan was completed. It was only just a day ago that they wondered if they would even be able to do it, and here they were with one foot out the door already. “Now, should they say yes we need to have all of our points laid out for when we speak to the Chancellor. I have everything in my office in the Senate building.”

“I shall accompany you,” Ellman offered, his role as the queen’s main advisor ever present.

“Perfect. Ani, you stay here with Vi while we’re gone, and comm me when they bring her back in.”

“You got it,” he grinned down at her, and her business face melted for just a moment before she had to look away.

“And don’t get into any trouble, you two,” she warned, finger pointed at her husband before going to her best friend.

“Pads, we’re in a sacred temple, what kind of trouble could we possibly find?”

-: ✧

“Is that all you’ve got, Your Majesty?”

Although Viarruh had seen him in her visions, she had never met the young man who had captured her friend’s heart, and so she was not yet prepared for how arrogantly taunting Anakin Skywalker could be. He was caring, that much she could see; he had done his best to help with her pre-meeting jitters and now, was occupying her during her wait at the Jedi Temple. And yet, his voice carried across the sparring room with a challenging lilt curling around the words, solely meant to egg her on.  

“Be careful what you wish for, General,” she warned, eyes bright and sharp and lips pulled into a smirk that only screamed trouble. Her hand shot out and in it formed a staff, appearing in a flash of light right before Anakin’s very eyes, though he still blinked a couple times as his mind attempted to catch up with what had happened. When he finally brought his attention back to the present, he only had moments to duck before the staff made contact with his face. Whatever it was made of, it did not appear to weigh her down as she moved with a frightening grace; and it stood up against a sword meant to cut through anything. She was capable, challenging, even, but she would need more training if she wanted to join them in battle. This was made clear to them both when the match ended with Viarruh’s staff on the ground some feet away from her and the blue blade of a lightsaber pointed right at her throat.

“I suppose you win this round, Skywalker,” she conceded, hands raising in surrender. Just as her opponent went to reply, most likely another boast, he was interrupted by the sound of clapping. Their heads turned in unison, and their eyes widened together just the same. The blade disappeared into the hilt of the saber and the heat fled from her neck, though it returned not a moment later as she registered who she was looking at.

Stood by the entrance was Obi-Wan Kenobi, hands coming down to clasp behind his back. “Impressive,” he mused, and the sound of his voice meeting her ears in person nearly knocked her over, but she remained steady as he started moving towards them. “It seems I taught my padawan well.”

“Yes,” she replied after realizing that Anakin’s silence was a push for her to speak up. “It seems so.” Her eyes cut to the man beside her, and he knew he would be in trouble later.

“And you, Your Majesty, are quite the fighter. I didn’t realize how frightening you could be.” By now, Obi-Wan was in front of the pair, looking at them with crystalline eyes. Viarruh tried not to think about how she looked at the moment; their fight had been long and was easy by no means, and she could feel the sweat gathered on her brow all the more under his gaze. She knew her hair was a mess on her head, having been knotted when she hastily removed the crown, and she didn’t dare look down to see if her dress was crumpled and crooked. She only prayed to Maker that it wasn’t as she stared right back at him.

“It comes in handy,” she quipped, heart skipping a beat in her chest when his smile widened.

The moment, if it could even be called that, was shattered when Anakin finally decided to make his presence known once again. “So, Master, what can we do for you?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t seem to want to leave the woman before him, but they eventually flicked to his former student, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. “Ah, yes, the Council wishes to speak with you again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, just let me grab my things and we’ll be on our way,” she smiled, before turning to her new friend. “General, would you please comm Senator Amidala and Advisor Ellman while I speak with the Council?” She had already started to walk away from the men when the answer came, and she did not have to look at him to know he was grinning at her.

“Yes, yes, I can do that, Your Majesty.” She turned to squint at him, hands running through her long strands when, to her horror, he started to walk towards the exit. “I will go do that right now.”

Her fingers forced themselves to resume their movements as she turned away again. She found herself alone with the man she believed to be her soulmate, as if her nerves needed anything else to buzz over. When she did spin around to face him, he was already looking at her. Her cheeks burned even more, but in spite of it she held her hands out, gesturing vaguely to the crown now on her head as she made her way back to him. “Look good?”

Once again, words seemed to stick in Obi-Wan’s throat when her eyes were on him. He stuttered slightly in his reply, and cursed himself silently. “Yes. Looks good,” he nodded, suddenly shy in front of the queen. “To the council room?”

Viarruh was intuitive, and on top of this particularly beneficial trait, she also read people for what they were. Not much got past the Queen of Orret, and so she dared to let herself believe that what she saw was, indeed, true.

Obi-Wan was nervous.

“Lead the way, Master,” she smiled, swallowing her chuckle when she noticed the shade of pink dusting over his cheeks as he led her out of the room.

The corridor was long and dimly lit, the evening sun casting a golden hue across the walls and floors, and though her shoes were the only noise for the beginning of their walk, Viarruh had started to settle into herself; muscles relaxing and mind easing as she felt the warmth of the man next to her. They were not touching, not even close enough to brush arms, but she still felt him. For a moment she wondered if this would only make her miss him more when he was no longer around her, but a small voice in the back of her mind told her she was a fool to think it wouldn’t.

“Your Majesty?”

Her heart still skipped a beat when his accent rang in her ears, but she was no longer fighting for breath and composure. He was comfortable to be around, she had decided.

“Oh, please, Viarruh is fine,” she assured, smiling at him in an attempt to prove to him that it really was fine.

He hesitated for a moment, but not a second later did he nod his head before flicking his eyes over to meet hers. “Viarruh,” he corrected, and oh, Maker, her name had never sounded so pretty. “May I ask you something about your visions? I know you are to speak with the Council about them, but I was wondering if you could tell me when they started?”

“Uhm,” she stalled, remembering back to the first vision she ever had.

She had just settled down in the plush and intricate chair sat at her desk, fully intending to complete some work in the late hours of the night, for something had been nagging her though she could not figure it out. It had kept her awake when she laid down to sleep, and so she had eventually wandered her way around the castle and ended up in her office. But as she reached for the holopad she felt…funny. A feeling washed over her, starting at the crown of her head and showering down to the tips of her toes, and it had happened so fast she hadn’t had any time to react before breath stuck to the back of her throat and eyes glowed bright like the sun that hung in the sky. Her lips were parted but only quiet choking sounds escaped her as her head fell backwards, face pointed to the high ceiling but she was not really looking.

No, her mind was taken over and it was like she wasn’t even in her office anymore. Instead, she was on Coruscant, stood in the darkened bedroom of her best friend. She could not move, she could not speak, only watch as insect-like creatures crawled towards Padme’s sleeping figure. Could only watch as two Jedi burst into the room, blue blade illuminating the darkness as one of them cut the creatures in half.

It ended there, whatever it was that had happened to her. Her eyes slammed shut before snapping open, air rushing into her lungs as she gasped, almost falling forward onto the desk in front of her. With a heaving chest she did her best to push herself up from her seat on shaky arms before she dashed out of the room. Bare feet carried her to the meeting room where she punched in Padme’s comm code, and she anxiously waited for her face to appear in blue, but cried out in frustration when there was no answer.

Worry prickled at every nerve and dread had settled in her feet, making it hard to even move her legs as she rushed to the only room she could think of; Ellman’s. She couldn’t move fast enough, tripping on the ends of her sleep gown numerous times, and she practically flew into his door. She was gasping, mind racing over every possibility as her fists bangs on the door, and she didn’t know how she was still standing by the time the man answered the door.

His eyes were squinted as he tried to make out who was in front of him, and in her frenzy Viarruh almost yelled at him, but there was no time to raise her voice as words spilled out with no end. They were frantic and jumbled together, and it was the alarm bells it set off in his mind that fully awoke him. “Viarruh? Viarruh! What is it?”

His questions fell on deaf ears, and strong hands tightly grasped her shoulders. “Viarruh, calm down! I need you to breathe!” He shook her a few good times, successfully putting an end to the stream of panic falling from the woman’s lips. Her eyes were wide as they finally focused on him, and she was slightly trembling in his hold.

It was a rarity for the queen to get so startled, handling her nerves well on any other day despite the horrors of her childhood, but that was not the case on this particular night. “Vi, what happened?”

“It’s Padme, I—I saw something and when I commed her, she didn’t answer, and—”

“Slow down,” he urged. “What do you mean you saw something?”

“I was in my office, and s—something happened, it was,” she stuttered, shaking her head as she struggled for words. “Do you remember when I told you I had a weird feeling earlier today? I couldn’t sleep, so I went to my office.”

“Was someone in there with you?” He interjected, but she shook her head again.

“No, no, it was just me; but I did see something. It was like…like a vision. I got this funny feeling and then I couldn’t breathe, it was like I was choking on nothing and then I couldn’t see.” Her hands fisted the front of his shirt, words speeding up again the more she spoke.

“You couldn’t see, but you saw something?”

“I’m being serious! It was like—like a vision! I was staring at the ceiling and then something happened to me and it was all gone, all I could see was the vision and I saw Padme!”

Viarruh did not catch on in the moment, perceptiveness dialed down in her vulnerable state, but Ellman seemed to be paying more attention now that she had revealed what she had experienced. His brows were furrowed as her words bounced around in his head, thoughts zooming this way and that as he thought back to when he was working for her mother, and all the things he’d witnessed her do and he remembered visions being one of them.

“What happened to her in this vision?” His voice was low and as serious as could be, no longer high pitched in worry, and in the darkness of the corridor his face was almost grave.

“There was something in her room, and it was crawling towards her while she slept and then two Jedi burst into the room! I tried to comm her when it ended but she didn’t answer, and that only  makes me think something bad really did happen to her! Ellman, what if she’s in trouble? What’s happening?”

“Listen, listen,” he soothed, taking a half step closer. “This is because of your powers. Your mother had visions, but I can only imagine how frightening it was when so unexpected.”

“My mom had them?” she mumbled, wide eyes staring up at the closest thing to a parent she had.

“She did. I don’t know much, unfortunately, but I do know that this was going to happen eventually; you’re far too perceptive and just plain lucky to have it skip you. What it is, well, to my understanding it could be a number of things. The past, things that have already happened revealed to you; the present, seeing things as they happen in real life; and the future, though that is never a certainty. Things change, but you can see these things. Now, what you saw with Padme could be any of those things, I’m afraid I have no answers to give with that, but we will investigate more in the morning. More people are likely to answer our calls, and we will be of sound minds,” he assured, one hand coming up to smooth over the back of her head. “Please, My Lady, let me escort you back to bed.”

“With the assassination attempt on Padme’s life. The one you and Anakin were around for,” she answered, keeping it short and sweet.

“You saw it?”

“I did,” she nodded, fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he dismissed, looking away from her and she had a creeping suspicion that he was not telling the truth. Nonetheless, she nodded her head before allowing herself a moment to take him in. He wore the plastoid armor similar to that of the clone troopers over the top half of his robes, and his lightsaber hung off his waist, shining and magnificent. He was more handsome than any man she’d ever seen in all her life of travels and meetings, negotiations and balls. Stuffy princes didn’t hold a candle to him.

“I see,” she mused, voice verging on playfulness. It was nice speaking to him, actual conversations instead of snippets of exchanges captured in dreams. “Well, let me ask you, do you ever see things?” She glanced over him, brows raised and lips curling upwards.

Her question settled into Obi-Wan’s mind and debated how truthful he wanted to be with his response. All his time and energy went into the Jedi Order, and fighting this war. He was strong with the force and worked to keep his balance, and he was a clever and impressive General in the GAR; but from time to time he saw her. Not often, not as often as she had visions, it seemed, but when he got the rare moment of rest, he could hear her voice and almost make out her face. When in battle, surrounded by blaster fire and chaos, he sometimes felt her presence next to him, swearing he saw her and a warm glow in his peripheral, yet when he risked a glance she was nowhere to be seen. It had started when he overheard her speaking to Padme the morning after the attempt on the senator’s life, voice slightly distorted over the holocall but still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

But was this something he wanted to admit to? Something he wanted to reveal in the corridor of a Temple that frowned upon attachments? But to lie to her, the thought of it made his stomach churn for some reason.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he settled, voice almost far away. Viarruh tilted her head slightly, contemplating the thoughts behind his eyes before he cleared his throat, seeming to come back to her. “The Force works in mysterious ways,” he nodded, grinning when the woman chuckled.

“That, I can understand. Perhaps you see with more than eyes, just as I do, Master Kenobi.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, looking straight ahead as he prepared himself for his next comment. “Though I don’t think there is anyone quite like you out there.”

Obi-Wan, while pleasant to be around, was becoming almost flirty. His voice was smooth and his accent curled his words nicely, as sweet as honey. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she could not stop it, could not prevent a full on, toothy smile growing on her face. The doors to the council room were in sight, just up ahead, and she looked as unserious as she could possibly be.

“I think you’re right,” she whispered, turning to face him when they were only a few feet before the doors. “But the same could be said about you.” She cleared her throat, wiggling her arms a little to reset, now looking at her companion with determination. “Wish me luck, I’ve got to speak with the Jedi Council.”

“Now that you mention it, I have a meeting to attend. Good luck, Your Majesty.”

With that, the doors slid open and Viarruh made her way inside the large room once again, the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi following her. When she reached the middle of the circle, he passed her and settled into his seat, and the added distance between them lessened the ease she had previously felt. Nerves began to settle into her again, as even Obi-Wan’s demeanor changed to that of a more stoic man, a Jedi wise beyond his years sitting amongst the council.

“Your Majesty, we’d like to thank you again for coming to us to speak,” the bald man sat next to Master Yoda began, voice just as serious as it was before. It was difficult to read him as he spoke and she found little comfort in the way his face remained stoney. “The information you presented to us is much appreciated, and has caused lots of discussion within the Council. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all, Master…?”

“Windu, Your Majesty,” he answered, bowing his head.

“Master Windu,” she repeated, nodding her head at him with a small smile. “Ask away.”

“What is your goal?”

Vague. A broad question asked simply and to the point, and it caused the woman to tilt her head ever so slightly. “My goal?”

“Yes. What is your goal in all of this?”

“Well,” she sighed. “Short term, I suppose it’s to convince you all to help me do what I can to join the war,” she gestured vaguely with one arm, holding the other out as she spoke again. “Long term, to do what’s right. To make a difference. To help people. Is that not everyone in this room's goal?”

“We are bound by oath,” came the voice of Master Mundi, interjecting and almost cold. “We are warriors of peace and fight to bring balance back to the galaxy, per our oath to the Jedi Order.”

“I am also bound by oath,” she countered lowly. “I was born into a position of power. I’ve held it all my life, and when I was just fourteen standard years old I obtained the highest rank you could possibly get on most planets. The responsibility may not be the same as yours, but it is a great one nonetheless; to keep people safe, to represent them, to protect them, that is what I do. And the oath I made was to always do what is right, what I need to do regardless of whether it is easy or not, whether it makes sense or not. And the Clone Wars are hurting people, and the Republic’s enemy stands for things that I would rather die fighting than let become the status quo in our galaxy. We may live different lives, Master Mundi, but our goals are very much the same.”

“You are very dedicated to this,” a male Nautolan observed, and all eyes turned to him. “It’s easy to see that this means something to you. I believe you when you say that our goals are the same, but this is still a very unusual situation, Your Majesty,” he explained, frowning slightly towards the end of his sentence.

“It is, I know that,” Viarruh assured sincerely. “But as unusual as it is for you, it is the same for me.”

“Your visions, hear more about them, may we?” Yoda questioned, pointing a clawed finger in her direction.

“What would you like to know?”

“Are they of the future?” Someone else questioned.

“Not entirely,” she answered, shaking her head. “My understanding is that they are things revealed to me because they need to be. It could be something from the past, I can see things as they are happening, and sometimes I do see the future, but you all know as well as I do that the future is never set in stone. Prophecies and destinies aside, seeing a vision of something that should happen doesn’t always mean it will happen.”

“What is the extent of your powers? What can you do, exactly?”

“I can do lots of things,” she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “But I already told you that they’re still developing, I still don’t know what the extent is.”

“I saw a demonstration of Her Majesty’s abilities in the sparring room, and it was most impressive,” a familiar voice entered the conversation, backing her up as she stood under the eyes of the disbelieving. Her chest warmed as she caught his eye before they flicked to the next person to speak.

“Sparring room?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered smugly. “Her Majesty sparred with Anakin, and held her own for quite some time. I could only imagine what she would be like with just some formal training.”

Murmurs filled the room, soft and blended together, but she gathered that Anakin being her opponent was the hot topic. “Impressive, that is,” Yoda confirmed. “Needed, a demonstration is, perhaps.”

“I can give you a demonstration,” she promised, hand already coming up to point at the copper haired Jedi. Her palm faced upward, slender fingers curling slightly as she made miniscule movements. At first, no one was aware of what was happening, Obi-Wan being most confused of all, but then he felt a little tug at his belt. He looked down to see his lightsaber moving here and there, before it eventually lifted off his thigh and unhooked from his waist.

His mouth opened in shock, and he didn’t need to look to know he was not the only one, as they all watched his lightsaber float through the air, right into the hand of Viarruh Finnall. She ignited the weapon, blue blade shooting out from the hilt and bathing her in the cool hue. And because she lived for the dramatics, she twirled it around, a move that was like muscle memory to her, the whirring sounds of the energy blade filling the room. When she finished, she retracted the blade and her hand fell to her side.

“While I did lose my fight with Anakin Skywalker, I have won many more. I am not helpless, and I do not give up easily.” Her eyes bore into the council members one by one. “And I am not afraid, I was not built to be and cannot afford to be.” She continued to spin around, intending to make an impression on every person she looked at, and she knew it was successful from the look in each of their eyes. “Sometimes it is not enough to just be against darkness. If you have the ability to, should you not use the light?”

The severity of her tone and words had lodged itself in the chest’s of the Jedi Council, and before them stood not the naive queen they thought was coming to their planet. No, stood before them was Viarruh Finnall, Goddess of the Sun, the Sun Witch, Queen of Orret, in all her wisdom and confidence. She was passionate and unyielding, she was caring, and she was strong. This young woman, whatever she had gone through in her lifetime had made her tough enough to bear the weight of leadership, to dive head first into a war that she was never obligated to join, to look an evil in the face and stand steady against it.  

“If we were to say yes,” Master Windu broke the silence, sharing glances with those around him. “What would be your next course of action?”

It took her a moment to calm herself, dispelling some of the intensity in her words as she turned to look at the man. “Well, should you say yes, I would need to speak with Chancellor Palpatine next. I chose to meet with you first because, although the Chancellor makes the final decisions, having you all to back me up would speak louder to him than I ever could on my own. You, of course, are not obligated to, but it would be most appreciated if I had someone to accompany me to speak with him; and depending on his answer, I will head home,” she explained with a note of finality, clasping her hands in front of her.

“Home?” Master Mundi interjected, leaning forward in his seat.

“Yes,” she answered simply, looking right at him.

“And what do you plan to do about your status as Queen while you fight in this war? You cannot do both.”

“I would give it up.” She stated, in such a way that it seemed the answer was obvious. It did not weigh heavy on her tongue as she spoke matter of factly, though it did put pressure on her chest, bones feeling as if they could cave in. “My birthday is in a matter of weeks, and though it may seem frivolous, celebrations are quite the talk back home,” she explained, flicking some hair over her shoulder as she resumed her movements around the center of the room. “I will use it as my opportunity to announce my retirement from the throne, and present who I have chosen to replace me; her coronation will come only days after. Then,” she shrugged. “I’ll go wherever you tell me to, and I’ll do whatever I can.”

It seemed, for a frightening moment, that she was unable to get through to them. They all stared at her, mouths closed with no intention of opening to speak to her, and her shoulders grew heavy, fighting to slouch forward as the feeling of defeat tickled at her bones. She held her breath, eyes flickering between the men in front of her. Obi-Wan held contact before he looked away, seemingly speaking to Master Yoda without using words, and she clutched the hilt of his lightsaber a little tighter, the metal warm from her hold on it throughout her speech.

As she glanced towards Master Plo, a frown almost dipping the corner of her lips downwards, she missed the nod Obi-Wan sent his elder, and the one following from Mace Windu. Her attention snapped back as a throat was cleared, and eyes had returned to her, though the tone had shifted ever so slightly. Almost indiscernible, it was, but she saw it and dared to let hope bloom in her chest.

“Speak to the Chancellor, we will. Tomorrow,” Master Yoda decided, sliding down from his chair, beginning to make his way towards the woman. “To your home, I will go with you. Train you, I will.” When he stood before her, large eyes gazing into hers, he placed one hand over the other on top of his staff as it stood in front of him and he was the picture of wisdom.

For a moment, she did not have any words. She had said so much since she’d arrived at the Jedi Temple, but now that she finally had an answer from them, she had nothing to offer the Council. She was frozen in her stare with the green Jedi, lips parting ever so slightly as his words rang in her ears. “Thank you,” she breathed, relief making her feel so light it almost lifted her off the ground below. She blinked a few times, gathering her bearings as reality began to set in that she had done it.

“Easy, it will not be, Viarruh Finnall,” he promised, shaking his head.

“The things worth doing usually aren’t, Master,” she replied, when the hole burning into her became too much and she looked up, meeting blue eyes already looking. Obi-Wan smiled at her, blowing his head in a silent congratulations, and she smiled. It was similar to the one he had managed to get from her in the corridor, and her success coupled with just knowing him now made it impossible to stop it.

Master Windu was the next to rise, the others following suit, and the tall man joined them in the middle of the room. “When we speak to the Chancellor tomorrow, you will have our full support. All we ask in return, is that you follow through with your word,” he explained, holding his hand out for her to shake.

When her hand slipped into his, enveloped by the gloved and armored one, a familiar feeling washed over her quicker than ever, and she gasped loudly, drawing the attention of everyone else in the room. Obi-Wan pushed his way to the front, almost overwhelmed from how loud everyone’s voices were once they blended together in panic, before standing beside the woman but she was not seeing him. Her muscles tensed and her back straightened as she went rigid, fingers clamping around Windu’s hand tightly, and he attempted to pull away in alarm; it was a struggle, but he was eventually able to pry himself out of her hold as her eyes glowed brightly. Her brows were furrowed and breath was stuck in her throat and she looked almost pained, and it made Obi-wan’s heart clench in his chest. It alarmed him, how seeing her like this affected him, but there was no time to think about it as his hands grasped her shoulders.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” he called, shaking her slightly but she remained frozen, golden eyes staring past him. Even when he grasped her face in his large hands because the choking sounds escaping her as air tried to fight its way to her lungs were scaring him more, she didn’t see him. His thumbs pressed into her cheeks as he turned her head to face him, almost yelling at her. “Viarruh! Breathe!”

When this very thing happened at home, no one could get through to the woman after her eyes lit up and she stopped breathing; screams and yells falling on deaf ears as her mind was taken over, but as she watched herself creep through the forest with a squad of clones and Mace Windu at her side, a voice echoed from somewhere. Who it belonged to, she could not tell, but it was comforting in its familiarity and lifted the pressure from her chest; everything became clearer as if a layer of dirt and grime had been wiped away, the plastoid armor glinting in the sunlight of the trooper who passed her. Outside of the vision, the blockage was removed from her throat, ripped away as oxygen rushed into her, and light burst out of her.

It was as if they were no longer in the council room, the group of people huddled together now standing in the same forest of her vision. She did not know they were there, could not feel them still, but they saw everything she did as it projected from her. They watched as everyone trekked on, the only sounds being the crunching and rustling of foliage and the sounds of wildlife in the distance; as Viarruh faltered in her step, causing the soldier behind her to bump into her, pushing her forward a few steps. Though, it looked as if she had paid it no mind, instead holding her hands out as if to steady herself, eyes flickering around before landing on the Jedi ahead of her.

And they could only stare as Windu continued on, having not noticed the absence to his left, and Viarruh lurched forward to reach him quicker. “Mace, no!” she yelled, grasping his shoulder to throw his body backwards, pushing him and their squad away from the pressure bomb cleverly disguised; but that also meant she was the closest to the explosion. The onlookers flinched as they were surrounded by heat and light and the deafening blow, watching in horror as the queen flew through the air, rolling backwards when she collided with the ground. She didn’t move much after her body settled, but Obi-Wan could see the way her eyes were blown wide, not seeming to focus on anything as she blinked. She didn’t respond to the calls of her name, not even noticing the people slowly searching for her, the ringing in her ears blocking out everything around her.

It was Windu who found her, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes as he walked up to her. “Viarruh,” he called, and it wasn’t until he saw movement to the side, and turned to see her leg poking through the tall grass. When he stood over her, he cringed slightly at the injuries he could see, and so did everyone else. Blood covered her face, dripping down from her hairline and smearing across her cheeks; parts of her shirt and vest were singed, still smoking, telling them she had burns as well. “Viarruh,” he tried again, and she only looked at him with wide eyes, giving him no indication that she heard him. He reached down with both hands, placing a couple fingers on her cheeks to move her head side to side, inspecting for anything else, and Obi-Wan was relieved to see nothing.

“Come on,” Windu grunted, picking her up and placing her on her feet, slinging an arm over his shoulder as he supported most of her weight. Then, the scene shifted, the same light as before filling the room before it all zapped into Viarruh, hitting her with a force strong enough to push her back a few steps when it collided with her chest, causing her to gasp loudly. Hands reached out to keep her upright, holding her steady on her feet as her eyes snapped shut before reopening, back to normal.

She was panting, gulping air down like she had been drowning, and the first thing she heard when she returned to the present was the worried voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his hands on her arms, having been the one to reach out to catch her. “Viarruh, are you alright?”

“That one was different,” she responded, shaking her head as her mind ran a mile a minute.

“Was that a vision?” Windu questioned, leaning closer to the woman.

“Yes,” she nodded, eyes finally raising to meet those of the man that still cradled her. “But it was different, this one wasn’t the same as others.”

“Viarruh,” Obi-Wan called softly. “What do you mean by ‘it was different’?”

“Stronger, it was stronger,” she answered as the group of Jedi began to back away from her, giving her space now that she was back with them. “And I…could hear someone.” It confused her, left her wondering, because she had never heard anyone in her visions like that, never felt anything but alone as she lost control of herself.

“We didn’t hear anyone,” Mundi noted, looking around at the others. “Other than yourself and Master Windu.”

“Wait,” she jerked around, confusion growing more and more by the second. “Did you…did you all see that too?” She was met with nods from everyone, and she could only stand there in a stunned silence as her thoughts ran a mile a minute.

“Viarruh?” Obi-Wan questioned softly after there was still no response from the queen, and turned back around to face him.

“It…projected?” Her face was still twisted in disbelief, the events taking place sprouting question after question in her mind. The man nodded his head to answer her, raising his brows at her tone.

“Is that also newly unlocked?”

She had again looked away from him, eyes staring down at the floor as the dots began to connect, as the answers became clearer. “Yes,” she answered in a dazed voice. “It is.” It was the only reaction she could give him as realization dawned on her, showering over her as her gaze shifted upwards; it focused on the busy planet on the other side of the large windows, the sky turning a pleasant rosy orange as the day settled and plans were now in motion.

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