#inherited firebird powers

[hitlikehammers]

Steddie Post S4: If All That's Left of Steve in the Final Battle is Ashes—

...are they REALLY JUST ashes? 🔥 

The final battle—like the last part of the very final battle—ends with shattering, and with dust.

It starts, the first bad dream and the first bloody nose and the first Code Red on the radios: well, that’s three months into something, for the first time in Eddie’s sorry-ass-but-honestly-actually-since-almost-not-having-any-life-at-all-any-more-and-miraculously-making-it-through-a-night-then-a-week-then-a-month-then-rehab-then-chronic-pain-then-more-friends-than-he’d-ever-had-before-and-frankly-in-the-beginning-more-than-he-could-count-plus-three-new-mother-figures-and-two-maybe-three-extra-maybe-father-figures-plus-one-friend-of-Dorothy-who’s-the-platonic-soulmate-of-maybe-the-love-of-Eddie’s-not-actually-still-sorry-ass-life: he’s about three months into something wild and reeling in his chest, brushing hands and lingering looks and flushed cheeks and little secret smiles ducked in toward shoulders or behind stray curls, or falling asleep pressed arm-to-arm only to wake up in one lap or another, and the whole of it’s shameless and intentional and giddy somewhere low in Eddie’s belly because it’s not uncertain, it’s honestly just fucking bashful, it’s shy and it’s the both of them wordlessly leaning into it, careful but sure, and almost all the more buoyant for it.

It’s three months in, and when they step up to that last battle—that final turn, do-or-die—maybe Steve pulls him behind a truck Eddie doesn’t even know the owner of, where it came from or why it’s there; but maybe Steve pulls him behind and draws him close without a word and kisses him relentless, drags his teeth and draws a little blood for the force and leaves them both raw, and panting, and desperate: it couldn’t really go any other way, like this—here.

Now.

“Live through this,” Steve had breathed against his angry red lips, hard enough that it stung; “so we can pick up where we left off.”

“I will if you will,” Eddie had shot back, defiant; still begging.

And Steve had kissed him again, and Eddie’d watched as Steve walked away with the lightest smear of Eddie’s blood on his lower lip as he’d spoken:

“I’ll hold you to it.”

And they’d parted, to do their fucking jobs, to play their fucking roles. They’re come back together, ready to take the final boss down as a unit, and Eddie remembers that he’d felt hopeful, he’d felt so fucking relieved because this was it. They were gonna nail it, all for one, and—

So it might be near the end, actually—they may have almost done it, finished the job and killed every last bit of this hellscape, every beast big and small, crushed what’s left of the husk of Vecna orchestrating it all: it might happen near the end. Or maybe just shy of the beginning. Somewhere in the middle.

All Eddie knows is that it happens. There’s light, and people floating in the air and then more light, dragged back down by the same lightning-spark power, and it’s back and it’s forth and when it hits anyone, Supergirl pulls them back to the ground and fights back harder, her face blood red dripping to her neck, her teeth bared all wrath and fury, and then—

Then there’s something that shoots different, hits Steve and he doesn’t float. It looks different, so it probably is different, and he doesn’t float when it hits him.

And so: Eddie holds to the bargain.

But Steve.

Steve…Steve Harrington, with the bitchiest glare and the brightest smile and the goofiest laugh and the biggest fucking heart, the bravest of all of them and the best part of Eddie’s whole soul—

Steve gets hit, and disappears from the world in nothing but a cloud of dust.

No one tries to shush Eddie, when he screams, when he wails and sobs; drops to his knees and fucking howls.

No one tries to stop him when he crawls to the space that held his whole heart, and now lies empty, save a dusting of something almost shiny, coarse to the touch but fine to the naked eye, hard to distinguish from the dirt on sight alone—is that him? Is that his Sweetheart, all that’s left of him—

Eddie thinks maybe they try to stop him halfway through the way he starts frantically sweeping, scooping up the ash and filling every pocket he has with as much as he can. He vaguely feels a hand on his shoulder, maybe the sound of his name, but it’s all white noise because Eddie’s picking up the pieces of his heart, here, Eddie’s trying like hell to hold on to something of the man he loves and anyone who doesn’t like it, or thinks he’s crazy, or wants to rush him, ask him to leave any little pouch in any layer of his clothes unfilled, less than overflowing with all that remains?

Fuck them. Fuck them all. Because Eddie kept his side of the deal.

Live through this.

I will if you will.

And now he has to live with the way his Stevie…didn’t.

——

The rest of the Party sticks together after it’s done. Dustin is inconsolable, Erica and Max scowl in each other’s direction but not really…at each other. Mike’s having a weird…frenzy response, denying Steve’s dead at all and demanding Lucas help him get El to look for him, he has to be somewhere, he has be saveable like Max, like Eddie. Robin’s fucking catatonic—the real adults take most of the burden, trying to figure out who to call, because Steve’s their only casualty, the beating heart at the center of all this and it’s gone, no wonder they’re breaking—

The Party stays together. Eddie falls back on what he knows.

He runs.

Specifically: he runs home, carefully though, he can’t jostle his pockets, and he knows exactly where he’s looking when he gets to his room, crawls to the farthest corner of his closet in this still-weird-to-be-so-big bedroom after the trailer: and he finds it.

His mom’s old little hope chest.

There are a million little fake velvet pouches inside, a couple pieces of actual jewelry kept in an empty film canister, and then a smaller jewelry box type thing meant for a dresser or something: Eddie doesn’t think he can fill the hope chest.

But the rest…

He starts with the jewelry box, since it’s already empty, carefully cups his palms to fill it with the precious dust until the lid doesn’t close.

Then he sorts the pouches, puts aside the ones that don’t pull tight enough shut for his liking. The rest…those will be temporary. He’ll find a better home for the ashes soon, but for now they’re safe, and all that’s left is…

The film canister is special.

It’s stupid and plastic and like every other fucking black-and grey tube thingy that smells like vinegar on the inside of you hold it up too close. But this one—

He’s always gotten a little teary-eyed to think that this was the one his mother kept.

Because he’d poked a hole through the rough little peak in the top of the lid with a fork, took a piece of thread from the junk drawer and made himself a necklace to match the one she had and she’d smiled at him so bright, poked another hole next to his, and threaded his string-chain through the back of the lid so it’d close up tight, to keep all your most secret prized possessions, my sugarbean and he had. For years.

Now it held what was left of her jewels, mostly cheap stuff with sentimental worth he couldn’t calculate—but now he has to take the faulty pouches and give the jewelry a new home.

Now he’s never had something more prized and precious to keep.

He finds fishing line in Wayne’s stuff, stronger than the thread worn and aged over a decade and a half, swaps it out with the string. Covers the inside with electrical tape to make sure nothing can sneak out of the holes, even so.

And then he fills it. Last of the ashes, and it all only just fits but the lid pops on perfect.

Then he pulls it over his head, and lies down on his bed.

And fucking sobs when the canister falls to settle right over his heart.

——

Some of the kids try to coax him out, argue grief is better shared or whatever, but Eddie’s deaf to the knocking, the way they try to yell at his window—not even cracked open, he won’t risk a rogue bird or a stray breeze disturbing all he has left of his, his—

The kids go away, eventually.

Wayne finds out through the grapevine what’s happened—he comes into Eddie’s room and holds him even if Eddie doesn’t want it, doesn’t ask. He’s grateful, though, even if he doesn’t say it, and Wayne sheds more than one tear; he’d been warming quick to Steve, called him son.

That wasn’t something Wayne did lightly. Not that anything Wayne did was done lightly.

However many days pass, Eddie doesn’t keep track. He wakes and runs to the little box on his dresser, just to make sure it’s safe, clutching the film tube around his neck while he does, weighing it desperately until he can be sure the bulk of the ashes are undisturbed. The rest of his time is spent lying in his bed and rolling the little canister across his fingers, taking off all his rings so he can just…touch it. Be close to whatever lifeless pieces of Steve—and likewise, then: pieces of Eddie—remain anywhere at all. He passes the hours like that, largely. Sometimes he thinks he’s hungry, like his stomach aches in that pang kind of way, but thinking of eating in a world where Steve doesn’t breathe makes him sick every time, so he doesn’t follow through. Wayne pesters him to at least drink something, so he sometimes shuffles to the bathroom, or the kitchen, drinks from the sink because glasses are for people who make plans for the future, who intend to drink things over the course of a lifetime, a life maybe with a purpose, a purpose that—

Eddie throws himself back into bed again, every time. Presses his film-canister-talisman tight to his sternum until the hurt of the pressure blurs with bigger hurts, and ultimately blurs into black.

Until one day, he opens his eyes. And after he’s done with the subtle disappointment that he had to, that morning came at all; when he gets up and checks the box?

The lid’s flipped off.

And there’s a tiny pile of dusty ash, glittering next to it, when there’s no light in the room to even catch it.

Eddie’s heart drops, then seizes in his chest.

What the fuck. What the fuck.

No one comes in but Wayne, and he just pokes his head in. Nothing can get in, either, unless…but they closed all the gates, there is no Upside Down anymore—

Eddie’s hands are shaking as he tries to brush the little pile into his hands, pulse tripping when the thinks of what it is, inside his hands, and he carefully lets it sift back into the jewelry box, tries to judge if any’s been lost, closes the top when he starts breathing too heavy, when his anxiety threatens to make the situation worse as he tries to bend down and see the furniture at surface level, find any precious speck of—

Not a speck. Not a…mote.

The escaped ashes were on top of something, though. Something Eddie’s never seen before. About the size of a notecard but, kinda like…ancient, weathered; that yellowed look you can never fake just right, traced alone with…some kind of calligraphy out of fucking Camelot or some shit, metallic gold in script:

I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.  

The…fuck?

Eddie tries to squint, because the text is weirdly positioned; it does look like something’s worn off, and some of what’s actually there is brighter, bolder than the rest, and then there’s a whole other style, almost backward, like a mirror-image of handwriting, and Eddie lifts the card up to the mirror instinctively, only to see…

There’s writing on the other side.

Eddie’s breath catches when he recognizes the handwriting. Small, and more words than should be able to fit but…it fits. It’s dried blood in color, and Eddie’s not convinced it’s just a color for how it’s a little raised and flaky, but it doesn’t come off when Eddie touches it, traces it because the cramped little letters, tall and short all mixed and mismatched, so familiar, so tight in Eddie’s chest—

It’s…Eddie…

Eddie’s eyes skim the first few lines in Steve’s handwriting, and he cannot fucking breathe—

Hey, wow, that’s some crazy shit there on the other side of this piece of paper, my gran says it’s a warning even if I don’t personally get it, but I’m pretty sure it’s enchanted? The paper, I mean. The warning’s probably about being too close to…this, without being prepared. But that’s, whatever. Point is, I don’t think I can make new enchanted paper, so here’s the deal: First, thanks for grabbing the ashes? I didn’t actually expect anyone to do that. I hope it was intentional, like that you weren’t sweeping or the ash got stuck in your shoes or something, because intentional will make the rest of this way easier (hopefully, or like, maybe), and if you’re a part of the bigger Hawkins fuckery it’ll be way easier to believe at the least so, fingers crossed I guess but: I’m kind of a phoenix? Firebird? Thing? It’s a bloodline “curse” but especially since the, umm, incidents with the Lab I’ve been thinking maybe it’s actually kinda cool? Like insurance. But the extra fucked up thing is that someone has to grab the ashes without being, like, told to. Free will or some bullshit. And apparently we’re not a very spontaneously likable bunch of dungeons-and-dipshit-type creatures, because not many of us even get to re-birth ourselves. Because of the ash…thing. But you! You did that! And now I can do the rebirth thing! Which I hope is okay. There are a lot of, like, bond-type things that go along with the person who ‘cares selflessly to gather ash unbidden’—I think that’s what makes someone more than a ‘mere human’ consumed by the Fire and they won’t get burned, they’ll be…well, if they wanted. Bond-stuff. Not important. I’m not gonna hold you to any of that shit, like, nothing you don’t want to happen will happen because of this, I 100% promise. Except maybe I’ll do some over the top gestures of gratitude—and on the off chance you already know me, at all? Over-the-top is kinda how I do most feelings, so. Should not be a surprise. Only thing I will ask, and if it’s too much no worries, the whole resurrection shebang was a gamble from the get-go but, if you can just keep this pile of ashes safe for a little bit? It takes longer to heal based on how old you are when you, y’know. Kick it. So…yeah. I never learned how to come back as a baby because that sounded weird. Quicker, but weird. I only learned the slower way so I can just…come back how I left, like no time passed. But if you can keep the ashes safe until then that’d be totally cool. Anyway, thanks, whoever you are. Kinda owe you my life, here. I’ll show you the appreciation you deserve when I’m, you know. Not-ashes. Once I have opposable thumbs again and stuff. But really. Thank you. See you soon, hopefully (if that’s cool, I mean, I can get out of your hair ASAP too if you’d rather, just say so soon as I pop up)— ~SH

Eddie…falls to the floor at some point, nearly ripping the note, no: no, actually, he should have decimated it, macerated it the with the way his hands clench and his tears have fallen and made not a single mark: enchanted paper.

Ashes that…maybe are Steve?

That maybe mean Steve could come…will come back?

Eddie really can’t breathe, now, and when the black swallows everything, he’s still on the fucking floor.

——

When next he comes-to, Eddie splashes water on his face after he checks on the jewelry box, reads the letter again, clutches the ash-filled pendant in his hand as he drinks, considers eating—no.

No, not yet. His stomach’s still unsteady. His chest is swollen, pressed with something like hope for the impossible because what the fuck, first and foremost, but then, then…

There was a horrorscape under his feet for years before it came for him personally, before he almost died at its hands once, and then again by proxy when, when it took his…

His maybe-love-of-his-life-and-also-possibly-something-like-a-phoenix-who-might-be-coming-back-to-Eddie-which-would-mean-Eddie-could-keep-breathing-and-his-heart-would-be-returned-to-his-chest-by-the-hands-of-the-man-he-loves-because-he-thinks-it-died-with-Steve-but-if-Steve-isn’t-dead—

He basically almost died again when…maybe his Steve—who Eddie fully acknowledges at this point he’s absolutely fucking gone on with his whole heart and soul, because there’s no other real explanation for his total and complete shutdown as a human for the sake of Steve’s loss—when his Stevie died, but maybe didn’t.

But then now, now maybe…

Maybe the impossible could be something that saved them, saved him, instead of something that only sought to ruin.

Eddie doesn’t think he can believe he’s that lucky.

But it’s easier to entertain the possibility, than to continue just…knowing Steve died before Eddie could acknowledge with his everything that he—certified cynic and self-deceiving dumbass Edward Elliot Munson—was ass-over-ankles in love; and more than that: before he could tell Steve as much, because of anyone Eddie’s ever met, Steve Harrington deserves to know how impossible it is not to; how ineffably much he is loved.

“Hey,” Eddie ultimately finds himself curled up back in his bed again, clutching his film canister to his chest, tight enough to leave an impression on his skin.

He wants it to. Right over the way his heart slams against his ribs. He wants a bruise. He wants a scar. He wants inviolable proof.

“Umm, so I don’t know if this is real,” Eddie’s eyes flicker to the jewelry box of ashes, the strange potentially-enchanted note on his dresser; “or if it is, how this works?”

This apparently being talking to the cobbled together film-pendant around his neck, he…he’s so fucked, isn’t he, this is insane—

But it’s not like that’s ever stopped him before.

And before never had love in the mix. So.

“If you can hear me,” Eddie runs his thumb around the circumference of the cap, over and over; “I pretty fucking sure I’m in love with you,” and it’s maybe fucked up, how it feels as nervewracking to say it to a plastic canister of ashes as he imagines it’d feel looking into those stupidly-wide amber eyes, but yep: said plastic ash-pendant’d be fucking bouncing with his heartbeat if he wasn’t holding it so tight to the furious drumming of his pulse.

“I know it’s fast? But,” and Eddie swallows, shakes his head for reasons that are maybe about dispelling the idea that anything’s too fast or too much in the life they’ve led, one where more might be possible, where a future might still exist beyond all possibilities, all hope except for the fragile frail thing in Eddie’s chest written in blood red, in Steve’s hand on Eddie’s fucking bones:

“I don’t think losing someone hurts like this if your heart’s not in it all the way,” and that’s, that is…

That’s the crux of it, isn’t it. His heart is the heart of it.

“Sorry, about that, if you,” Eddie swallows, sour around the idea that maybe, even if the impossible’s possible, this part, where he feels like this, is just…maybe not too far but in the wrong direction.

But he wants to believe. He wants to think Steve saw something pointing in this direction when he told him to survive, so they could have, so they could finish, so they—them, together—could…

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s voice is hoarse enough to hurt, now, so he lifts his little film canister to his lips and presses them hard, sure: it’s weirdly warm against his mouth, held too close to his chest for too long.

Not long enough. Not close enough.

“Be careful about taking care of yourself, about, coming back and,” Eddie grips his pendant of ashes back tight to the center of his sternum;

“I’ll watch over it, watch over you,” he promises; “long as you need.”

And he breathes, holding the canister close before he brings it back to his mouth again and whispers to it like it matters, or…just in case it matters:

“Come back to me,” his words come out in a shudder, all trembling; “I’m just a mere human, maybe less than,” and that’s true, that is so fucking true but:

“But you already consume me,” Eddie speaks it honest, and kisses the rim of the cap— if there’s any chance of getting in, it’s there:

“So burn me up, as much as you need to,” and Eddie means it, he fucking means it with everything he is; “just,” and his voice cracks, and he shoves the canister back tight to his shaking heart when the first tear falls on it, covers it with both hands and cups it safe and damn-near painful as he whispers to whatever might listen:

“If any of this is real,” he barely fucking breathes: “please come back.”

He loses the battle for consciousness to his tears, but awake or asleep: he doesn’t once let go of the pendant pressed to his heart.

——

Eddie’s warm. Like, fell asleep in the sunlight, swaddled in a blanket, embraced and held and wrapped up in pure comfort warm.

“You’re more than a mere human,” a voice exhales right behind his ear: also warm, also comfort, also fucking impossible and he turns, frantic and even more so when he feels the lack of his film canister against his chest, and he tries to scramble for it but he’s…he’s held the whole time in strong arms that he knows, same as he knew that voice, same as it’s clear that he’s warm because he’s wrapped up in a body, tangled from the legs up with, with—

“How,” Eddie barely speaks, more mouths as that chest lifts, those lungs fill, that mouth curls warm and sweet and his Steve is watching him, those eyes so alive and then those strong hands are reaching for him, cupping Eddie’s cheeks and marveling like Eddie’s the wonder, here, like Steve isn’t lying in his arms like a full-on fucking miracle.

“You offered burning, and pledged your heart unasked,” Steve says it in this…this way that is exactly that simple, and exponentially more profound.

“That is some lore shit,” Eddie breathes out almost on instinct because…that’s some lore shit.

And Steve—Steve, his Stevie, wrapped around him and moving and breathing and being and definitely one-hundred-percent naked but that is totally irrelevant right this moment because Steve—

Steve laughs at him, soft and fond and god, god but Eddie thought he’d lost it. He was so sure, and his heart was so broken but now Steve’s heart is strong against his skin and Eddie can, he can…

Eddie can fucking breathe.

“I don’t think anyone expects our kind to be…cared about, like that,” Steve shrugs a little, and Eddie wants to protest because Steve Harrington isn’t only cared about, he is adored, and fuck anyone who says different, who so much as thinks otherwise—he wants to push the point, but Steve’s eyes are so intent, so saturated with feeling.

And fuck, but Eddie missed those eyes.

“Speeds the whole re-personing thing up, apparently,” Steve’s smile is a little wider before he shakes his head with a cute little toss of that hair.

“Old magic things,” he dismisses; “for later,” and then he draws Eddie back down close to his chest and snuggles him in so, so close.

“Tired,” Steve sighs a little into Eddie’s mess of curls; “and you need taking care of.”

And it’s…out of everything, the protective certainty in those last words are maybe the most unshakable proof that settles in Eddie’s chest and reminds the still-reluctant, still-too-scared parts of Eddie’s heart to commit and start back to beating because: only Steve Harrington is protective…quite like this.

“You’re really here?” Eddie whispers, wondering and hesitant all at the same time.

“Thanks to you,” Steve kisses Eddie soft, sure: taste strangely of smoke and cinnamon but underneath—all Steve.

His Steve.

He folds into Steve’s chest and just, fucking, clings.

“So fast,” Eddie mouths against Steve’s skin, because the heartbeat under his lips is almost indecipherable, one beat to the next. “And you’re so warm, are you,” Eddie props his chin up and looks up at Steve, anxious and flooding with worry before he sees Steve’s smile, still sweet and steady.

“Bird,” Steve drums his fingers against Eddie’s forearm, lightning quick; “fire bird, so,” and the heat makes sense then, too, as Steve wraps him up again tighter and sighs, satisfied as he envelopes Eddie’s frame.

“Also extra energy, I think,” Eddie listens to Steve’s words around his heartbeat through his chest; “like, I couldn’t make it past your kitchen but, I don’t know how I know it, but I know I can give some of it to you while it’s settling.”

Magic. Steve. Can share his phoenix magic. To take care of Eddie. Immediately after coming back from the fucking grave.

On brand, Eddie guesses. Jesus fuck.

“I am pretty damn positive I’m in love you with you, too, by the way,” Steve shakes Eddie back to his body, to the moment, to the soft sure way he breathes those words and kisses Eddie’s temple like Eddie’s pulse doesn’t trip around the sentence, the sentiment.

“Also thank you, for,” Steve adds, and drops another kiss while Eddie reels, floats in the moment of hearing the words, of knowing for sure, of feeling it: “for loving me, somehow, enough to,” and Eddie can imagine where that’s headed, the way Steve says somehow like an unthinkable thing.

And there will be none of that, so he stops it and kisses hard, wet, open-mouthed at the center of Steve’s chest, over his bird-flutter heartbeat.

“It broke me,” Eddie breathes there, cracked open and still raw; “I already mostly figured but,” and his voice breaks, and Steve pulls him closer, so warm, and the bird-heart-flutter feels more like full broad wings, majestic, almost embracing and ensuring Eddie of all things is safe, and kept.

And warm.

Fuck if Eddie doesn’t fall into the feeling, full body; whole heart and soul.

“If there was any question whether I already loved you with everything, the way I fell apart,” and Eddie just moans a little because there aren’t…he doesn’t have words for it at all, he—

“Let me put you back together?” Steve murmurs low in a way that’s so soft and gentle but trembles the marrow inside Eddie’s bones.

Timeless. Endless.

Eddie kisses Steve’s chest again and hopes Steve knows that means yes, and please, and forever.

Unequivocally.

“Could we maybe talk about that, um, bond stuff, that the letter…” Eddie eventually speaks muffled into the hair on Steve’s pecs, after soaking in the heat and pulse and realness of him.

“I meant it,” Steve murmurs straight into Eddie’s skin; “I’m not holding you to—”

“I want you to.”

Eddie did not for a second think or feel otherwise, from the moment he saw the words, before he even started to believe at all: his mind was filled with possibilities by those words. His chest was…

“You…” Steve nudges Eddie’s head up from his chest and studies his face, reads something in his eyes before his breath catches, this time; before his bird-pulse skips, something light and giddy against Eddie’s weight and Steve huffs, disbelieving but…maybe happy for it.

Maybe…maybe overjoyed, even.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, and leans to kiss Eddie full on the lips again, consuming: familiar for it.

“Yeah we can talk about that. But later.”

And then he settles Eddie back against him and wraps him in his bare skin, the still-radiant warmth.

“Now you sleep, and when you wake up, I feed you, you shower, you put on new clothes,” Eddie wrinkles his nose, doesn’t even know how many days it’s been since he cared for those things; abandons any shame for it when Steve feels him recoil and presses him closer, chuckles once and nuzzles his hair;

“Then I feed you again, and then,” Steve kisses his head once, and then twice, and then three times and Eddie feels it tingle through his goddamn veins like a vow, filled up with promise when Steve whispers, so alive:

“Then, we can talk.”

For @klausinamarink, who requested '"I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.”' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST and also for @steddie-week for the Day Seven prompt 'Free Space'

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @mensch-anthropos-human @micheledawn1975 @lumoschildextra @dotdot-wierdlife @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @grtwdsmwhr @eddie-munson-addict

divider credits here

ao3 link here ✨

[lovemyromance]

So... Lucien being Helion's son is only relevant when it comes to "sunlight"? Even though only Helion is tied to sun imagery, Lucien has never been said to be "sunlight" and he doesn't have any relation to the sun outside of being Helion's son. It's only relevant that he's Helion's son and therefore he apparently is sunshine and whatnot because Elain ... needs sunlight?

Okay. Even if I could get behind that argument somehow...

Then why is it not relevant that Lucien is Helion's son and inherited his spell-cleaving/cursebreaking powers .... and he might possibly use that skillset to break Vassa's curse?

You know, Vasssa, the firebird that he literally lives with and considers a friend? The woman he spends more time with than his actual fated mate?

It is canon that Lucien broke through the KoH's spell and has been compared to "fire/flame" imagery. That's about it.

Flames from his mother. Spell-cleaving from his father. Makes sense.

There is no mention of him as it relates to sunlight in the book. Not even "his smile brightened like the sun" or some shit. Helion is the sun personified, but that does not extend to Lucien just because they're biologically related.

Just because he said "get Elain ouside she needs some sunlight" once, when she was literally a ghost doesn't mean he's suddenly going to become HL of Day Court.

I just find it hard to believe anyone can claim Lucien is sunlight just bc he's Helion's son, without also having to agree that Lucien-baby Spellcleaver-"Vanserra" could potentially also free Vassa..... only one of those things is canon, and it's not the teletubby sun "foreshadowing"

[apollos-boyfriend]

new life smp: second origins

scott: fungal mage

fwhip: hare

gem: blazeborn

joey: TBA

katherine: TBA

lizzie: TBA

sausage: phoenix

seapeekay: beach crab

shubble: TBA

joel: dullahan

jimmy: monkey

stacy: TBA

strawburry: TBA

oli: TBA

owen: copper golem

scar: human

pearl: star

pix: TBA

martyn: TBA

full origins descriptors under the cut!

scott: fungal mage [impact - •••]

an explorer keen on knowledge and adventure, fit to travel the under and overworlds.

fungal hop [+] *

you can summon clouds below you and hop on them. cost: 10 fungus mana

dash [+] **

you can enter a veil of magic, throwing you forwards and making you invulnerable, invisible, and unable to activate plates. cost: 10 fungus mana

sporous relocation [+]

you can channel and condense warped spored into a magical laser, infusing them with magic. you will be teleported where they land, or where the laser stops. cost: 10 fungus mana

fungus mana [+]

the mystic aura that all fungi contain. you can harness it and use it as magic energy, but without it, you are powerless. gain fungus mana by standing on mycelium, warped nylium, or crimson nylium.

detrimental [-]

the combination of your fungus mana and your body makes food mostly useless to you. while you can still reap the benefits of shimmering foods, your hunger bar has no effect on your health. you must instead rely on your fungus mana to heal you.

magical essence [+]

you are naturally protected from fire and poison, as long as you have fungus mana.

shroom stature [-]

you have only 8 hearts, because you care little for your physical form. you will be reduced to 6 when without fungus mana. berry bushes will not puncture your fungal skin.

bioluminescence [+]

you glow to other players when in a light level of 0.

gaia's frequency [+]

you have mastered way of the earth, allowing you to mine red and brown mushroom blocks when sneaking as if you had silk touch.

bookworm [+]

you can craft mushroom blocks and bundles, ride mooshrooms, and you can brew up a killer mushroom stew.

fungal infusion [+]

you can fuse the magi mushroom with certain item, granting them power. create the magi mushroom by right clicking blaze powder atop red mushrooms in your inventory.

* you can use similar magic to boost yourself while gliding with an elytra, and use fireworks to assist flight. cost: 20 fungus mana

* you can also stop yourself mid flight, by crouching and pressing- cost: 5 fungus mana

** you become immune to fall damage if falling from a height of 5 blocks or more. however, you must have fungus mana.

fwhip: hare [impact - •••]

a race of burrow dwelling rabbits that had attained a level of awareness akin to humans. they inherited their proficient mobility.

bunny hop [+]

you build up momentum while in the air which is added to your movement speed. you keep built up momentum momentarily while on the ground. you may also gain momentum with your active ability.

photophobia [+]

note: fwhip didn’t show all the descriptors for his origin. he has more abilities, but these are the only ones with the official description shown.

gem: blazeborn [impact - •••]

late descendants of the blaze, the blazeborn are naturally immune to the perils of the nether.

fire immunity [+]

you are immune to all types of fire damage.

nether inhabitant [-]

your natural spawn will be in the nether.

burning wrath [+]

when on fire, you deal additional damage with your attacks.

hotblooded [+]

due to your hot body, venoms burn up, making you immune to poison and hunger status effects.

hydrophobia [-]

you receive damage over time while in contact with water.

sausage: phoenix [impact - •••]

flying from the pages of mythology, the phoenix is a legendary firebird that can never truly die.

rebirth [+]

in your normal form, you have more health and can use flight and ascent. if you lose your health, you shrink to your rebirth form. this form is 1 block tall, can use glide, and has low health. you return to normal form upon rejuvenation or death.

rejuvenation [+]

if you were in your reborn form, you will slowly return to normal form provided you are directly under the sun. standing in teh rain or in water will reduce progress towards rejuvenating.

roost [+]

while sneaking and not moving, you will gain progress towards rejuvenating in reborn form, regardless of there being sunlight or not.

radiant call [+]

full heals every player and mob within a 12 block radius. triggers automatically every 2 minutes. if you are in reborn form, regain some progress towards rejuvenation when this triggers.

helios' blessing [+]

when under direct sunlight, you receive a speed boost on land and in the air.

flight [+]

you have wings. only available in normal form.

ascent [+]

you are able to launch yourself into the air. only available in normal form.

fireball [+]

launch a fireball that deals damage and ignites the first entity it hits.

gliding [+]

you gain slow falling and jump boost. only available in reborn form.

fiery death [-]

your body sets the ground on fire when you die.

golden diet [-]

all foods restore very little hunger and saturation, except for golden foods, which function like normal.

water weakness [-]

you have decreased speed in water.

brittle bones [-]

you take more damage from falling and flying into blocks.

fire immunity [+]

you are immune to all types of fire damage.

seapeekay: beach crab [impact - •••]

crustaceans who like to rave, preferably on beaches.

home! [-][+]

beach biomes provide you with immense strength and fortification. you feel weaker outside of beach biomes if you stay in them for over 15 minutes.

rave! [+]

play the song of your people, and rave for your valor!

krusty [-]

you are a bit shorter and much wider than a human. your arms are 35% shorter than a human.

legs n' chelipeds [+]

your legs move much faster when in water, and you deal additional damage when wet.

crawler [+]

you descend down to the water until you stand on and walk on its floor, but move quite fast while walking. you can occasionally muster the strength to swim for a brief period of time.

pincers [-]

melee weaopns are half as effective because of your pincers. you deal more damage with your pincers.

shell [+]

you have a natural layer of armor.

crustacean gills [+][-]

you have a much higher oxygen capacity, but you require moisture to breathe. you lose your breath in very hot climates, including the nether. four levels of fire protection will allow you to remain cool and maintain moisture.

kelpomaniac [+]

you can eat kelp, which empowers your underwater vision, and oxygen capacity.

aqua affinity [+]

you may break blocks underwater as others do on land.

unwieldy [-]

the way your hands are formed provide no way of holding a shield upright.

joel: dullahan [impact - •••]

an accursed headless horseman, who uses their nightmarish powers to trap the souls of their prey in lanterns.

binding chain [+]

you can impale a target with a barbed chain, immobilising them and inflicting wither.

behold a pale horse [+] *

conjure a speedy nightmare steed that will remain for 2 minutes in the mortal world. this has a 5 minute cooldown.

spectre’s dismay [+]

shoot an explosive wither skull projectile at your prey.

cower, run [+] *

even your presence is scary, making enemies blinded with fear.

death’s tools [+] *

you always carry items with you gathered on your journeys as a horsemen.

the pact [+][-]

your contract to hunt souls empowers you under the light of the moon, but during the day you are weskened, making your thirst for souls insatiable.

soul devourer [-] *

food does not satiate your wretched form. as a horsemen, you can't eat anything - only being able to absorb the souls in soul lanterns to give you nutrients.

boned [+] *

when hit, you have a chance of dropping bones.

cursed [-] *

any items imbued with a curse can seal you inside the weapon and kill you.

note: joel didn’t show all the descriptors for his origin. the rest were taken from the wiki here, although the wording of the descriptions he did show differ from the wiki. they're all the same core abilities, just with different wordings, although it's possible there could've been some tweaks done as well. wiki-based descriptors are labeled with a *.

jimmy: monkey [impact - •••]

rulers of the jungle and cousins of the humans, these mammals have a great mobility but not a big brain.

vine hook [+]

you can throw a vine to move around the trees.

master climber [+]

you can climb everywhere by shifting at the cost of stamina. you can also hang up from ceilings

small but agile [+]

you are 1 block and a half tall in order to move swiftly through the jungle.

tailwind [+]

you are a little bit quicker on foot than others.

stamina [-]

you have a stamina bar that runs down whenever you are climbing.

strong body [+]

you take 80% less velocity based damage.

not a good swimmer [-]

no monkey has ever been able to swim.

monkey jump [+]

you can lunge at the cost of stamina.

monkey brain [-]

you are unable to use either a bow, crossbow, or shield.

owen: copper golem [impact - •••]

the copper golems are a curious automaton, designed to improve the lives of others. since they were initially prototyped, they have gained a greater knowledge of redstone components and ways to utilise them.

repairs available [-]

your body cannot be naturally or magically mended. you instead repair by consuming copper ingots.

oxidation [-]

your copper body makes you susceptible to the elements, oxidising you over time. oxidation can be removed with an axe.

galvanise [+]

honeycombs allow you to wax yourself, staving off the effects of oxidation for several minutes.

lightning rod [+]

while in thunderstorms, you’re much more likely to get struck by lightning. you are immune to lighting, and de-oxidize when struck.

copper plating [+]

your chassis is made out of copper. as a result, you passively have resistance.

local area networking* [+]

you have modified an antenna to fit to your head permanently to recieve radio signals.

micro machine [-]

you are only one block tall, and your maximum health is reduced.

automaton [+][-]

your body doesn’t experience hunger, and you don’t benefit from natural regeneration.

button masher [+]

your programming gives you an overwhelming urge to press buttons. every time you press a button, redstone dust will drop.

tinkerer [+]

you can quickly convert a redstone component into its similar counterpart.

transmute [+]

you are able to transmute copper into other metals, allowing you to craft more metal items.

toolsmith [+]

you can also use this skill to create various metal tools.

circuit corrosion [-]

being submerged in water will damage your internal circuitry. your plating will protect you from rain, however.

heavy metal [+][-]

you don’t need to breathe underwater, but your dense body holds you down.

* active ability. when standing within 5 blocks of unwaxed copper, emerald, or diamond ore and blocks, you will beep. you oxidise faster while this is active.

scar: human [impact - •••]

a regular human. your ordinary minecraft experience awaits.

pearl: star [impact - •••]

you are absolutely glowing!

luminant glide [+]

you are able to launch up into the air, and will slowly glide until you reach the ground.

luminant [+]

you light up the area around you.

starlight [-][+]

you’re smaller during the day, but larger at night.

gravitation [+]

the gravity of the earth is less taxing upon you at night.

immaterial [-]

you have 2 less hearts.

[black-rose-writings]

Okay, grishaverse people, I have plotbunnies and need these questions answered:

So, Mal's supernatural tracking abilities come from the fact that he's a Morozova's amplifier. Something which he inherited from his ancestors.

So, it only makes sense that if he had a bio child prior to losing his amplifier status, that child would also be an amplifier.

So, here come the questions:

A) Is there only ever one "Firebird amplifier" at a time, or B do all of descendants of the Younger Daughter have a piece of it?

If option A is true, at what point would Mal lose his amplifier staus and would he lose his tracking abilities along with it? (I am assuming he would)

If option B is true, could the reason Mal actually works as well as he does as an amplifier be because he's the last remaining descendant of her (the power is equally divided between all descendants and since he's the only one left, all the poweris concentrated in him. Which would require some kind of metaphysical way of sharing that power, but it is Merzost, so it's not out of question)

If the power is equally divided between the descendants, would that mean that Mal's tracking abilities would weaken if/when he had children?

If the power is equally divided between all descendants, does Mal only work as the third amplifier BECAUSE he's the last remaining member of that line

Is the amplifier lost or could Mal's child post-R&R still be an amplifier? (This is not as important for the plotbunny, but it feels relevant to the discussion as a whole)

Both headcanon and canon-supported answers welcome.

Please, no discourse on Mal's quality of character(from writing or personal perspective), we're objectifying today :-D

No, seriously, I just want to discuss the lore and mechanics around him and his amplifier status, take your arguing about who's a better character or who Alina should bang somewhere else. If you do like him, be warned that I don't and normally post a lot of critical stuff, so probably don't venture onto the rest of my blog.

[kaliade]

KHRxTwisted Wonderland Idea

Why will my brain not stop with the ideas?!  Why?!

*Sigh*  Ok, so I need to get this down on something so I can go back to ignoring it because I have one too many irons in the fire already.  I do not need another.  So here, have an idea that is free to anyone.  I’m not going to be writing more of it most likely.

The MC in this idea is Tsuna’s daughter, his 3rd or 4th child.  She knows she likely not going to inherit, not with her siblings in front of her and her father being very, very protective of them all.  That’s fine with her.  More time to explore her own interests. 

Now, this MC, who I’m going to call Miku, gets yeeted into Twisted Wonderland as per canon.  But, the Dark Mirror doesn’t say she’s magic-less.

Miku:  I’m Miku.

Dark Mirror: The nature of your soul is....unclear to me.

Crowley:  What did you say?

DM: The magical power in this one...it both is and is not of color or shape that matches any of the dorms for it fits all in some ways.  Therefor, no dorm would be appropriate.

There is an uproar over this announcement.  Someone who cold fit ALL the dorms?

To explain, because a Sky (that is the Flame Type I’m giving Miku) is harmony, her soul would automatically fall into harmony with those around her.  Thus the mirror cannot pick one dorm to suit as they would technically suit all of them.  This means Miku still gets shunted to Ramshackle but Crowley, and the campus as a whole, is a lot more interested in just what this young woman (and wasn’t  that a kicker.  The first female student in over a century) can do.

And then the reveal that she uses Soul Fire (TWST term for Dying Will Flames).  And they are at a usable level for combat!  Most other Soul Fire mages can barely make their Soul Flame visible, let alone fight with them.  Just...what is this woman?

Further, I can see Miku developing a trick for Dying Will Mode that gives her fiery wings to fly on.  She looks like a firebird!  (Just to tie Ramshackle further into Fantasia as its inspiration)

Just think of the shenengans that can come up.  Like her critique of how the Monstro Lounge in run and how the tweels are not subtle at all.  Jamil reacting to her because she gives off assassin vibes from having been around the Varia when she was younger. Idia being fascinated with how Blot reacts to Soul Fire (I headcanon Soul Fire destroys it fast because Flames are about surviving but it could go the other way).  Ace and Deuce and Jack...actually, ALL the freshman squad, even Sebek(boy is a Lightning, obviously), bonding to her as Elements and the angst that gives Sebek.  Malleus being fascinated with her “firebird” wings and abilities Lilia has only heard of in stories. 

Someone, please take this child.  Please.

[richincolor]

Most Anticipated Reads in April

It’s almost but not quite April yet, which means it’s time for me to totally ignore the books I should be reading from March and look ahead to my most anticipated April reads. Here’s what’s on my list...

A Whole Song and Dance by Sarvenaz Tash [Out 4/4/23!]

Nasrin Mahdavi is a Broadway triple threat—but she’s living a double life. A freshman in NYU’s prestigious musical theater program, Nasrin spends her days prepping for auditions, sweating through dance classes, and belting her heart out for the viral streaming show she’s been cast in. But on calls with her maman and baba, she’s their jigar talah, the golden child who put her theater dreams aside to follow in their entrepreneurial footsteps as a business major. At least her whole life isn’t a lie—she is taking a single business course. Except she’s kind of failing it. Cue jazz hands? Nasrin needs to bring her grade up fast if she’s going to keep her parents in the dark, so she grudgingly signs up for tutoring with the infuriatingly smug and annoyingly attractive Max. And yet...as the semester rushes by, the sparks of anger that first flew between them start to turn into a very different kind of spark. The kind she definitely does not have time for. Except when Nasrin’s charming though devious cousin takes an interest in Max too, Nasrin has to figure out exactly what has been an act—and what’s for real. Can Nasrin decide what—and who—is truly worth fighting for, and find a way to step into the spotlight as her full self?

Firebird by Sunmi [Out 4/4/23!]

Sunmi's gorgeous two-color teen graphic novel debut examines the power of resilience and reinvention, following the lives of Caroline and Kim, two queer, Asian American teenagers growing up in the suburbs of the San Francisco Bay Area, as they forge an unexpected connection. Caroline Kim is feeling the weight of sophomore year. When she starts tutoring infamous senior Kimberly Park-Ocampo--a charismatic lesbian, friend to rich kids and punks alike--Caroline is flustered... but intrigued. Their friendship kindles and before they know it, the two are sneaking out for late-night drives, bonding beneath the stars over music, dreams, and a shared desire of getting away from it all. A connection begins to smolder... but will feelings of guilt and the mounting pressure of life outside of these adventures extinguish their spark before it catches fire?

Throwback by Maurene Goo [Out 4/11/2023!]

Back to the Future meets The Joy Luck Club in this YA contemporary romance about a Korean American girl sent back to the ’90s to (reluctantly) help her teenage mom win Homecoming Queen. Being a first-generation Asian American immigrant is hard. You know what’s harder? Being the daughter of one. Samantha Kang has never gotten along with her mother, Priscilla—and has never understood her bougie-nightmare, John Hughes high school expectations. After a huge fight between them, Sam is desperate to move forward—but instead, finds herself thrown back. Way back. To her shock, Sam finds herself back in high school . . . in the ’90s . . . with a 17-year-old Priscilla. Now this Gen Z girl must try to fit into an analog world. She’s got the fashion down, but everything else is baffling. What is “microfiche”? What’s with the casual racism and misogyny? And why does it feel like Priscilla is someone she could actually be . . . friends with? Sam's blast to the past has her finding the right romance in the wrong time while questioning everything she thought she knew about her mom . . . and herself. Will Sam figure out what she needs to do to fix things for her mom so that she can go back to a time she understands? Brimming with heart and humor, Maurene Goo’s time-travel romance asks big questions about what exactly one inherits and loses in the immigrant experience.

[marvelgirltm]

“Dreams are sometimes windows…to other realities. And waking doesn’t always make things better.”

Abilities: Rachel is what is known as a “Class Omega“ mutant, according to The Avengers. Since she is the daughter of the Phoenix, Rachel inherited a great deal of psionic powers from Jean, but has limited control over them; she is still learning. Her biggest issues lie with her telepathy and telekinesis, sometimes the developments of her attempting to control them result in piercing headaches, migraines, that are so overpowering she can gather a nosebleed or worse. She could begin convulsing in a slight seizure. Currently, when she utilizes her powers, since merging with the Phoenix force, a bright blue Phoenix symbol appears over her left eye. She has learned lock-picking from Logan {Wolverine} and Storm, as well as hand-to-hand combat from Nightcrawler, her father, and a smattering of other sources/mutants. Strength - Rachel is otherwise a normal human female. But her physical shape is petite and fit, with regular exercise and physical training. She loves to run and often goes on long jogs to clear her head, quite literally, and tune the world out. She uses physical fitness as a way to steady her powers and keep the rambling thoughts at bay. When possessing the Phoenix Force, however, she contains superhuman strength with an unknown limit. Weaknesses - Even with the power of the Phoenix, magic and magical objects prove to be an enigma among Rachel’s capabilities. If her abilities become too overwhelming, she has a tendency to have a complete mental shock, creating migraines and an extensive nose bleed and potentially a seizure. 

Mutant Powers/Capabilities:       Telepathy - Rachel can read minds and project her thoughts into them. She can do so within a vast, potentially limitless radius, much like Xavier can when utilizing Cerebro. Though, Rachel has continual difficulty honing her craft with continuing mental blocks. However, even when she utilizes her telepathic abilities the residual energy provided is neigh indestructible.  

Astral Projection  - In an “astral plane” Rachel can project her ‘astral form’ from her body. She can also do so on physical planes, however, she can only do so over short distances, whereas in the ‘astral plane’ she not only harbors no limitations but she can create psionic objects and manipulate her surroundings. 

Mind Alteration  -  Ability to alter the minds of others by force of will, whether changing their personality entirely, partially or altering their perception.

Mental Amnesia  - Rachel can erase any particular memory, or provide full-on amnesia, wiping the brain entirely. 

Mental Paralysis -  Ability to produce/induce temporary mental or physical paralysis. {Which is, an involuntary loss of function/movement. In other words: if she is not careful, she could induce brain damage}.

Mind Control - With a purer form and great deal of concentration, Rachel can control the mind of another. 

Mind Detection - Ability to detect when another superhuman/mutant is present or nearby, or headed in her general direction. She can sense and decipher the distinct mental radiations emitted by the other being.

Mind Possession - Ability to mentally posses another, and use their body in a controlling manner. In essence, she can use their body as if it were her very own.

Mind Transferal - If for some reason her physical form were to die {her body}, she could then transfer her mind into another living being. She is able to transfer both her mind and powers and abilities into another host body.

Psionic Blasts - Rachel can project a psionic bolt which really has no physical effects, but can render a victim’s mind slightly hindered, causing them great anguish/pain or sending them into unconsciousness, or otherwise causing them to become brain-dead. These blasts can be as mild or lethal as she so desires. 

Psionic Firebird - Rachel harnesses the ability to manifest her telepathy in the form of a psionic firebird, like a Phoenix, whose claws and beak can inflict both physical and mental damage. 

Psychic Shield - The ability to create a psychic shield for protection of herself, her mind, and the mind of others. 

Telepathic Cloak & Shadow - Rachel can mask her presence, and the presence of others if so desired, from being detected by others — even telepaths. Her abilities can at times go undetected or be counteracted by other powerful telepaths depending upon their level of skill in using their own psi capabilities. So far, the only two people who are genuinely well educated at this would be Xavier and her mother since they know her well and have helped her hone her craft {But even unto them, she can cast said shadow}. Rachel can also mask herself and others around her from those near or far by telepathically disguising them/making them disappear or appear as a shadow.

Telepathic Illusions - The ability to create illusions to make herself seem to be invisible, look like someone else entirely, or make others experience events that are not truly happening — in essence to create a world full of emotions and render someone’s reality void, and make them see something that is not actually there. 

     Telekinesis - Rachel possess telekinetic power that allows her to exercise control over objects, including herself. The exact measurements of her limitations as far as weight and mass with respect to her telekinetic capability have yet to be defined or discovered.

Concussive Blasts  - Rachel can project telekinetic energy as a powerful blast that beams directly from her brain, and can affect any given matter with concussive force {much like her mother/Phoenix}. Think of it as a big shockwave of energy, almost like an atomic bomb but of course not nearly as lethal. 

Force Fields - Rachel harnesses the ability to create protective force shields that could deflect even the most powerful of attacks. This power can even go into the depth of filtering bacteria from the air and repel nuclear weapons. Rachel has displayed a capability of being able to shape the fields perfectly and precisely, even to conform very closely to the shape and form of her body. 

Intuitive Aptitude - The ability to disassemble complex devices, explosive or otherwise, explosively or otherwise {separating and severing every last component, such as screws, bolts, nuts, wires, components of a circuit board, etc. etc. etc.} She can dissolve them just as quickly as she can re-assemble or assemble them. This particular skill has created Rachel’s awareness and control over very tiny objects such as individual electrons in an atom. For example, Rachel was able to detect whether or not a seal was hermetic by checking for the presence of penetrating oxygen molecules. She can even discern particular oxygen molecules and determine the atomic weight of said molecules by the amount of atoms that are present.  

Matter Alteration - Since Rachel has merged with the Phoenix force, her capability spans beyond that of a generic telepath. She can alter molecular and atomic structures, even alter the molecular valences or rewrite her own genome. At one point as the Phoenix, she was capable of creating a micro black hole. This power is particularly disturbing to those who can control matter such as metal {particularly for Magneto} as it gives her the ability to melt said metal, and utilize it against him.

Psionic Spikes - The ability to create destructive psionic spikes that can destroy the physical object that the spike comes into contact with.

Telekinetic Flight - By using her telekinetic abilities she can levitate and “fly” at various speeds and lengths/heights.

Time Travel - Rachel possess the unnatural ability to displace herself and others at almost any specific point in the timestream and then reemerge back into the physical world from as much as a few minutes to years by generating chronal energies. She can travel in astral form as well, and can travel to points well into the future; hence Days of Future Past.  In conjunction with other her other powers, Rachel can combine her telepathy with her abilities to manipulate time. She can temporarily transplan a person’s mind and send it through time into a younger/older version of their self, or a close ancestor/descendant or disembodied astral form. {This is accomplished when combining her telepathy and chronokinesis; this is also referred to as “chrono-skimming”}. Rachel combines her telepathy, telekinesis and varied effects to create other abilities such as a “chrono-shield” which is an unconscious emanation of a fourth dimensional pulse which creates a “chrono-shield” protecting her from changes in the timeline. As well as “psychometric projections” in which she encapsulates the ability to mentally project past events.

[rhysanoodle]

Between Light and Shadow

(Banner by the lovely @sncinder​ 💕)

Elriel’s story after ACOSF

Word Count: 1841

AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26

Chapter 27

The next morning, Elain found herself sitting across from Rhys in his office, Lucien occupying the seat next to her as the Scythe lay ominously on the desk in front of them.

“Mind telling me what exactly happened in Lake Orel?” Thankfully, they had all been left in peace last night, but when Elain had emerged with a grumbling stomach after bathing this morning, she had seen the worry in their eyes and hadn’t objected when Rhys asked if she and Lucien would mind debriefing him.

Azriel could survive another few minutes without food. She had already given him one potion and changed his bandages this morning, so he likely would be napping for a while longer. She was sure everyone was aware that she had spent the night in his room—in his bed—but no one was mentioning it, so she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up.

Elain and Lucien shared a glance, and at his continued silence, Elain launched into the tale, elaborating on how Koschei had trapped them, had lured her and forced her to break her own mating bond, had used her to begin to weaken his own curse’s hold on him.

“It’s truly broken?” Rhys’s eyes flitted between the two of them, as if inspecting them for any remnants of the bond they had shared for the past couple of years.

Lucien nodded. “Whatever it did … worked.” Elain could still feel the tatters of the bond inside her, like a missing limb she didn’t even realize she’d had.

“And it worked on Vassa too?” Rhys wondered aloud. Elain’s head whipped to Lucien. She hadn’t done anything to Vassa. The firebird had arrived too late in the battle, and Elain hadn’t even gotten the chance to consider using the Scythe to free Vassa from her captor.

“I think … I think that was me,” Lucien admitted. “I have no idea how, but when he was reeling her in, I just snapped. Something happened to my fire, and I could just … feel the moment her bonds broke.”

“Ah, that,” Rhys nodded knowingly. “I think we owe you an explanation.”

Feyre entered the room, smiling sheepishly at Lucien. “We think you’re Helion’s son,” she admitted, wincing as her blow landed, Lucien’s good eye widening in shock.

“But I can wield fire magic,” Lucien said disbelievingly, summoning a bit of fire in his palm for a split second as if to prove it to himself.

“So can your mother. You inherited it from her line.”

“But … This power …”

“Surely, you’ve noticed your powers growing stronger as of late, signs that you might in fact be the heir. But we’ve also noted this change with Eris as he prepares to take the Autumn throne. How can there be two heirs to Autumn? Unless …”

 “Shit,” Lucien cursed, his face falling into his hands. “How is this possible?”

“You’d have to ask your mother for the specifics, but before she was sold to Beron as his bride, we believe she was in a relationship with Helion. Perhaps those feelings never faded, and—”

Lucien growled, and Feyre had the presence of mind to blanche. “I’m really sorry for keeping this from you, Lucien. It was never the right time, and we weren’t even one hundred percent certain until now.”

“Cauldron dammit, Feyre. All this time, you’ve let me keep thinking I was related to him? You’ve left me in danger in the case that any of my brothers noticed this shift?”

“We haven’t suspected for long, and would it have been worth knowing if it turned out not to be true? To give you that hope and snatch it away?”

He stood, pacing back and forth. “I don’t know, but it’s better than being blindsided like this. If I had known, I could have figured out how to use these powers. Cauldron, I could’ve freed Vassa ages ago, and none of this would’ve happened.”

“Well, that’s not what happened, is it?” Rhys countered. “So you need to decide how you’re going to live with it now. Even Helion struggled to figure out how to free Vassa from Koschei. I’m not sure it would have been that easy.”

“What are you going to do?” Feyre probed, voice cautious.

“I have to go back home. To Vassa. I don’t know what comes next.”

Elain stood, taking his arm as he stood, unhinged in the doorway, laying a calming palm on his bicep. “I know a bit about learning some things about yourself which are difficult to accept,” she murmured, low enough that only he could hear. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

If someone had told her even mere months ago that she would be comforting him so, she would’ve accused them of lying, but in the past few weeks she had grown a soft spot for the male who had the misfortune of being tethered to her. He wasn’t so bad after all, especially after he had made the difficult decision to let her go.

“Thank you, Elain. I won’t be a stranger.” With a soft pat on her hand, he extricated himself, strolling out of the office.

“You’re really in the interest of keeping secrets about others’ lives, aren’t you?” Elain could feel her original anger at Rhys flaring up as she turned back to her sister and her sister’s mate.

“Perhaps it wasn’t in my best interest,” Rhys admitted sheepishly.

“It wasn’t in anyone’s best interest,” Elain countered, folding her arms across her chest and staring him down.

“I’ve already said I’m sorry, Ellie, but I truly mean it.”

“And he’s never going to do anything that is controlling and invasive which affects other people’s personal lives without their consent again,” Feyre added, cutting a glare at her mate, who affirmed her.

“You made me think he couldn’t ever love me. Do you know how much that hurt?” Now that the initial shock of the revelation had worn off, her anger had stepped aside in favor of the sadness of what she and Azriel could have had. “I’d already gone through that once, and it almost killed me.”

Elain could see the moment that Rhys’s heart broke. “I didn’t mean to cause that. I thought … I thought he was merely lusting after you, using you for some reason to distract himself from whatever was bothering him. And I couldn’t afford him invoking Lucien’s wrath—or Beron’s wrath, if he chose to invoke the Blood Duel on Lucien’s behalf.”

“But you didn’t take into account my feelings either.”

“I was trying to protect them.”

“I am no one’s to protect but my own. I can handle the shadowsinger. If we were just having sex, it still would be none of your business.” She knew that the hardness in her eyes could cut through him like a knife, as intended.

“Please forgive me. I promise. Never again.” And Elain could feel the defeat resonating from the High Lord. He had made many mistakes, but at least he did feel some remorse for what it had cost her.

“In that case,” she murmured, eyeing the Scythe, laying on the desk. “I would like to see something.”

Rhys tensed as she reached for the piece of the Trove, but Elain didn’t falter. She gripped the handle tightly with both hands, allowing the otherworldly power to come over her, as she heard the gasps from Feyre and Rhys as they beheld her. Powerful. Unearthly. And … beautiful, she somehow knew. Perhaps it was the omniscience of the Cauldron flowing through her.

The room became flooded with color and light as she took in all the magic surrounding them. All the invisible lines which tied the universe and their fates together.

There was no mistaking their mating bond, a brilliant sapphire, thicker and more vivid than any other bond she had ever witnessed, but that wasn’t what Elain was interested in. She let herself look past it, at a much smaller thread, tying Feyre’s left hand to Rhys’s. Their bargain.

“I can break it,” she told them. “I can break the bargain which troubles you.”

“I was wondering,” Rhys murmured. “Are you ready, darling?” He turned to his mate. “I’ll still mean it in spirit, but maybe next time one of us is on death’s door we won’t be so frantic about leaving this world—leaving our son—so abruptly.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Feyre admitted, but Elain saw the gleam of a tear in her eye. As ill-advised as binding their lives together was, there was still something reassuring about knowing they would go together and never leave the other behind.

She couldn’t help but feel the same way about Azriel. She had been willing to sacrifice herself for him. Perhaps Koschei might not mean her mortal harm, but she was still offering up her life as she knew it to be owned by him. And considering how many of her choices had been taken away from her in her life—how she had struggled and suffered because of them—it was the ultimate sacrifice for her. But he was worth it.

Just then, a glimmer struck her from the corner of her eye. That bond which had appeared a dim gold between herself and Azriel last night pulsed—lighting up and letting off a burnished glow. Even more radiant than her severed bond with Lucien. She could feel him—a dull whisper as he slept on another floor—but she could feel him deep within her.

She froze, unable to proceed, as she attempted to process what this could mean. Because that bond with him, it had been there, lying dormant while she had been bonded to Lucien. Could it be?

“Elain, dear?” Rhys cocked his head, a glimmer of worry shining in those sapphire eyes.

Right. She owed them a broken bargain, and being very careful not to touch any of the other many magical threads running rampant through the room, she cleaved through the problematic one.

The other two stumbled, appearing to have blacked out for a split second before they regained their bearings. “It’s done,” Feyre murmured, looking at her bare left arm with a hint of regret.

“If it’s the ink you’re missing, I can certainly help you there,” Rhys crooned, and Elain knew that it was time to leave as Feyre ran into his arms. She set the Scythe quietly back on the desk, but not before feeling a familiar itch running along her shoulder blades from her own tattoo.

She could sever it if she wished to, be free of her duty, but …

No, this was not just for Elspeth. She could free everyone in that cursed mountain, send them all to a peaceful afterlife and spare so many. Just as she had once been trapped in a prison—in a life—not of her choosing, these souls did not deserve their fate.

But that was a problem for another day, as she made her way back to Azriel’s room and all the uncertainty that lay waiting for her there.

***************

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[houseofhurricane]

Unpacking the Vassien Dynamic

(Vassien Week | Day 1 | Dynamic)

The Vassien dynamic, to me, is all about easy love in difficult circumstances. From the first time we see them together, Vassa and Lucien seem smitten. They’re laughing, a hallmark of all the ACOTAR OTPs, and they both express their admiration and respect for each other as quickly as they can. Unlike many other ships in this series, there’s no struggle for either Vassa or Lucien to recognize how incredible the other person is.

Their personalities complement each other beautifully. Vassa is strong, willful, and courageous, already a rightful queen. When she meets Feyre and the other High Fae, she does not show the smallest hint of fear, but instead demands her freedom. Despite this bold and memorable request, the High Fae’s inability to break Vassa’s curse keeps her from her court, and Vassa remains a firebird by day, trapped in Prythian in order to stay out of Koschei’s clutches. However, between his golden eye and the abilities he’s inherited from Helion Spellcleaver, Lucien is well positioned to help break the curse on Vassa. By acting as her emissary, he can help Vassa reclaim her rightful throne in Scythia if all the other human queens initially refuse. Lucien can make it possible for Vassa to reclaim what is rightfully hers.

Meanwhile, Lucien is an observant schemer and strategist, seemingly unaware of the fact that he could be the heir to at least two different courts. He is wracked by guilt over betrayals that are not his fault (the death of Jesaminda, much of what happened with Tamlin). While Lucien takes ownership of his misdeeds in a way that nobody else does in ACOTAR, a testament to his strong character, he also gets locked into second-guessing and guilt. Vassa’s strong will is bound to show Lucien that there is nothing wrong about claiming an earned position of power. And no matter what happens within the courts of Prythian, Vassa has already changed Lucien for the better: transforming his disdain for humans at the beginning of the series into a deep respect and admiration.

While I love the way both Lucien and Vassa can impact each other’s stories, I think my favorite thing is imagining their dynamic as a couple. Think about it: there’s plenty of mutual pining and mutual snark.

The mutual snark, because can’t you imagine the joy Lucien takes in getting a rise out of the Queen of Scythia? I’m imagining Vassa taking the time to come up with her own witty comebacks, practicing raising her own quizzical eyebrow. We know she is argumentative and that Lucien can hold his own, so can you imagine their back and forth? Although Lucien mentions that Vassa and Jurian are at each other’s throats, I can see Vassa and Lucien having “discussions” that get awfully heated but always remain just this side of constructive and respectful.

The mutual pining for Vassien will be epic. There are all kinds of external reasons why this couple should not get together. Lucien has a mate. His great love was killed because she was not a High Fae and therefore “beneath him”. Vassa, a young queen, should use her marriage to make a strategic alliance and cement her rule, and that’s not even getting into the fact that she’s a cursed human queen and that Lucien ostensibly has all kinds of obligations in Prythian. She’s a human with a limited lifespan, and Lucien has already lived for centuries.

But if in the face of these shoulds, they still love each other? Then this love story is about choosing each other, respecting each other, helping each other grow, laughing and arguing and loving each other in spite of all the obstacles arrayed against them. It’s about them realizing that even if they only have a little time together, it is worth it to both of them to make the most of each moment.

And because of what Lucien and Vassa are to each other, who they could be to each other, I will be rooting for them to overcome everything that stands in their way, and cheering for every second of what I think will be a truly gorgeous love story.

@vassienweek

[demifiendrsa]

Final Fantasy XVI details the world and characters

■ Key Visual

—Protagonist, Clive Rosfield, on a dark and dangerous road to revenge.

Final Fantasy XVI brings players into a world where Eikons are powerful and deadly creatures that reside within Dominants—a single man or woman who is blessed with the ability to call upon their dreaded power. The story follows Clive Rosfield, a young man dedicated to mastering the blade, who is dubbed the First Shield of Rosaria and tasked to guard his younger brother Joshua—the Dominant of the Phoenix. Unexpected events set Clive on a dark and dangerous road to revenge.

■ World

Valisthea―A Land Blessed in the Light of the Mothercrystals

The land of Valisthea is studded with Mothercrystals—glittering mountains of crystal that tower over the realms around them, blessing them with aether. For generations, people have flocked to these beacons to take advantage of their blessing, using the aether to conjure magicks that let them live lives of comfort and plenty. Great powers have grown up around each Mothercrystal, and an uneasy peace has long reigned between them. Yet now the peace falters as the spread of the Blight threatens to destroy their dominions.

Eikons and Their Dominants

The Eikons are the most powerful and deadly creatures in Valisthea. Each resides within a Dominant—a single man or woman who is blessed with the ability to call upon their dread power. In some nations these Dominants are treated as royalty in admiration of this strength—in others they are bound in fear of it, and forced to serve as weapons of war. Those who are born as Dominants cannot escape their fate, however cruel it may be.

The Realms of Valisthea

—The Grand Duchy of Rosaria

Long ago, a group of small independent provinces in western Valisthea found strength in unity, and formed the Grand Duchy of Rosaria. After years of relative prosperity, the duchy now finds itself threatened by the spread of the Blight—a threat that, left unchecked, would doubtless usher the realm to ruin. Rosaria draws its aether from Drake’s Breath, a Mothercrystal situated on a volcanic island off the coast. The Dominant of the Phoenix, Eikon of Fire, is enthroned as Archduke when they come of age.

—The Holy Empire of Sanbreque

Sanbreque is the largest theocratic force in Valisthea. The Empire’s holy capital Oriflamme is built around Drake’s Head, the Mothercrystal that blesses the surrounding provinces with abundant aether. The people happily take advantage of this, living in comfort and security under the watchful gaze of the Holy Emperor, whom they worship as the living incarnation of the one true deity. The Dominant of serves as the empire’s champion, taking to the field in times of war to rout its enemies.

—The Kingdom of Waloed

Waloed claims the entirety of Ash, the eastern half of Valisthea, as its dominion. The kingdom’s control of the continent has oft been tested by the orcs and other beastmen who make their home there, but the current ruler of the realm—Dominant of —has succeeded in quelling their rebellions. Using the power of the kingdom’s Mothercrystal, Drake’s Spine, this new king has built up a mighty army, with which he now seeks to test the borders of his neighbors.

—The Dhalmekian Republic

The Dhalmekian Republic is made up of five states, from which the members of its ruling parliament are drawn. Its Mothercrystal, Drake’s Fang, is half-hidden in the heart of a mountain range—the republic’s control over it, and its aether, securing the obedience of the large part of southern Valisthea. The Dominant of Titan, Eikon of Earth, is installed as a special advisor to parliament and has a significant say in its decision-making.

—The Iron Kingdom

A small group of islands off the coast of Storm, the western half of Valisthea’s twin realms. Here the Crystalline Orthodox, an extreme faith that worships crystals, reigns supreme. The Iron Kingdom controls Drake’s Breath, the Mothercrystal that sits at the heart of one of their islands—long a source of contention with neighboring Rosaria. Isolated and aloof from the mainland nations, the Ironblood speak their own language. Orthodox doctrine judges Dominants to be unholy abominations, and any unlucky enough to be born on the islands are executed.

—The Crystalline Dominion

The Crystalline Dominion sits at the heart of Valisthea, built around the tallest of all the Mothercrystals, Drake’s Tail. Many bloody battles were fought for control of this small plot of land due to its strategic importance, till the warring realms finally agreed to an armistice. As part of the peace treaty, the islands around Drake’s Tail became an autonomous dominion led by a council of representatives from the surrounding nations—each realm enjoying equal claim to the Mothercrystal’s blessing. No Dominant makes their home there.

■ Characters 

character artwork by Kazuya Takahashi

Clive Rosfield (age 15)

The firstborn son of the Archduke of Rosaria. Though all expected him to inherit the Phoenix’s flames and awaken as its Dominant, destiny instead chose his younger brother Joshua to bear this burden. In search of a role of his own, Clive dedicated himself to mastering the blade. His practice pays off when, at just fifteen years of age, he wins the ducal tournament and is dubbed the First Shield of Rosaria—tasked to guard the Phoenix and blessed with the ability to wield a part of his fire. Alas, Clive’s promising career is to end in tragedy at the hands of a mysterious dark Eikon, Ifrit, setting him on a dangerous road to revenge.

Joshua Rosfield (age 10)

The second son of the Archduke of Rosaria and Clive’s younger brother by five years. Joshua awoke as the Dominant of the Phoenix soon after his birth. Despite his noble upbringing, Joshua treats all his father’s subjects with warmth and affection—none more so than Clive, whom he deeply admires. Joshua often laments that it was he, the frail and bookish younger son, who was granted command of the firebird’s flames, and not his stronger, braver brother. While Clive will gladly throw himself into any danger, Joshua quails at the sight of a carrot on his dinner plate. But carrots become the least of his concern when he, too, is swept up into the tragic events that change Clive’s life forever.

Jill Warrick (age 12)

Born in the fallen Northern Territories, Jill was taken from her homeland at a tender age to become a ward of Rosaria, securing peace between the two warring nations. The Archduke insisted that she be raised alongside his sons, and now, at twelve years of age, she is as much a part of the Rosfield household as Clive and Joshua. Ever kind, gracious, and unassuming, Jill has become a trusted confidant to the brothers.

Final Fantasy XVI is in development for PlayStation 5.

[satoshi-mochida]

Square Enix has launched the teaser website for Final Fantasy XVI, which features the key artwork and information on the game’s setting and main characters.

Get the details below.

■ Key Visual

—Protagonist, Clive Rosfield, on a dark and dangerous road to revenge.

Final Fantasy XVI brings players into a world where Eikons are powerful and deadly creatures that reside within Dominants—a single man or woman who is blessed with the ability to call upon their dreaded power. The story follows Clive Rosfield, a young man dedicated to mastering the blade, who is dubbed the First Shield of Rosaria and tasked to guard his younger brother Joshua—the Dominant of the Phoenix. Unexpected events set Clive on a dark and dangerous road to revenge.

■ World

Valisthea―A Land Blessed in the Light of the Mothercrystals

The land of Valisthea is studded with Mothercrystals—glittering mountains of crystal that tower over the realms around them, blessing them with aether. For generations, people have flocked to these beacons to take advantage of their blessing, using the aether to conjure magicks that let them live lives of comfort and plenty. Great powers have grown up around each Mothercrystal, and an uneasy peace has long reigned between them. Yet now the peace falters as the spread of the Blight threatens to destroy their dominions.

Eikons and Their Dominants

The Eikons are the most powerful and deadly creatures in Valisthea. Each resides within a Dominant—a single man or woman who is blessed with the ability to call upon their dread power. In some nations these Dominants are treated as royalty in admiration of this strength—in others they are bound in fear of it, and forced to serve as weapons of war. Those who are born as Dominants cannot escape their fate, however cruel it may be.

The Realms of Valisthea

—The Grand Duchy of Rosaria

Long ago, a group of small independent provinces in western Valisthea found strength in unity, and formed the Grand Duchy of Rosaria. After years of relative prosperity, the duchy now finds itself threatened by the spread of the Blight—a threat that, left unchecked, would doubtless usher the realm to ruin. Rosaria draws its aether from Drake’s Breath, a Mothercrystal situated on a volcanic island off the coast. The Dominant of the Phoenix, Eikon of Fire, is enthroned as Archduke when they come of age.

—The Holy Empire of Sanbreque

Sanbreque is the largest theocratic force in Valisthea. The Empire’s holy capital Oriflamme is built around Drake’s Head, the Mothercrystal that blesses the surrounding provinces with abundant aether. The people happily take advantage of this, living in comfort and security under the watchful gaze of the Holy Emperor, whom they worship as the living incarnation of the one true deity. The Dominant of serves as the empire’s champion, taking to the field in times of war to rout its enemies.

—The Kingdom of Waloed

Waloed claims the entirety of Ash, the eastern half of Valisthea, as its dominion. The kingdom’s control of the continent has oft been tested by the orcs and other beastmen who make their home there, but the current ruler of the realm—Dominant of —has succeeded in quelling their rebellions. Using the power of the kingdom’s Mothercrystal, Drake’s Spine, this new king has built up a mighty army, with which he now seeks to test the borders of his neighbors.

—The Dhalmekian Republic

The Dhalmekian Republic is made up of five states, from which the members of its ruling parliament are drawn. Its Mothercrystal, Drake’s Fang, is half-hidden in the heart of a mountain range—the republic’s control over it, and its aether, securing the obedience of the large part of southern Valisthea. The Dominant of Titan, Eikon of Earth, is installed as a special advisor to parliament and has a significant say in its decision-making.

—The Iron Kingdom

A small group of islands off the coast of Storm, the western half of Valisthea’s twin realms. Here the Crystalline Orthodox, an extreme faith that worships crystals, reigns supreme. The Iron Kingdom controls Drake’s Breath, the Mothercrystal that sits at the heart of one of their islands—long a source of contention with neighboring Rosaria. Isolated and aloof from the mainland nations, the Ironblood speak their own language. Orthodox doctrine judges Dominants to be unholy abominations, and any unlucky enough to be born on the islands are executed.

—The Crystalline Dominion

The Crystalline Dominion sits at the heart of Valisthea, built around the tallest of all the Mothercrystals, Drake’s Tail. Many bloody battles were fought for control of this small plot of land due to its strategic importance, till the warring realms finally agreed to an armistice. As part of the peace treaty, the islands around Drake’s Tail became an autonomous dominion led by a council of representatives from the surrounding nations—each realm enjoying equal claim to the Mothercrystal’s blessing. No Dominant makes their home there.

■ Characters

Clive Rosfield

The firstborn son of the Archduke of Rosaria. Though all expected him to inherit the Phoenix’s flames and awaken as its Dominant, destiny instead chose his younger brother Joshua to bear this burden. In search of a role of his own, Clive dedicated himself to mastering the blade. His practice pays off when, at just fifteen years of age, he wins the ducal tournament and is dubbed the First Shield of Rosaria—tasked to guard the Phoenix and blessed with the ability to wield a part of his fire. Alas, Clive’s promising career is to end in tragedy at the hands of a mysterious dark Eikon, Ifrit, setting him on a dangerous road to revenge.

Joshua Rosfield

The second son of the Archduke of Rosaria and Clive’s younger brother by five years. Joshua awoke as the Dominant of the Phoenix soon after his birth. Despite his noble upbringing, Joshua treats all his father’s subjects with warmth and affection—none more so than Clive, whom he deeply admires. Joshua often laments that it was he, the frail and bookish younger son, who was granted command of the firebird’s flames, and not his stronger, braver brother. While Clive will gladly throw himself into any danger, Joshua quails at the sight of a carrot on his dinner plate. But carrots become the least of his concern when he, too, is swept up into the tragic events that change Clive’s life forever.

Jill Warrick

Born in the fallen Northern Territories, Jill was taken from her homeland at a tender age to become a ward of Rosaria, securing peace between the two warring nations. The Archduke insisted that she be raised alongside his sons, and now, at twelve years of age, she is as much a part of the Rosfield household as Clive and Joshua. Ever kind, gracious, and unassuming, Jill has become a trusted confidant to the brothers.

Final Fantasy XVI is in development for PlayStation 5.

View the artwork above in high-resolution at the gallery.

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

I wanna hear abt ur ocs owo 👉👈🥺

AAAA omg bless u you’re a peach <3

I would love to tell you about my OCs I’m like Charlie It’salwayssunny over here I’ve got boxes full of OC stuff I’m just dying to talk about. I’ll put everything under a read more so anyone that’s not interested can just skip past here cause I’m about to get RAMBLY okay let me tell you about my beloveds

Okay so by far my favorite creative project right now is my novel that I’ve been planning on & off since January of 2019, the working title is Villainous, it’s like the most refined and likely to actually go somewhere of all my story ideas and I swear this thing holds my entire soul

The actual story is a play on the classic Career Woman RomCom setup except her name is ~Magnate~ and her big city career that never gives her time for love is ~Supervillain~

unfortunately I don’t have any art of her or any of the other characters yet because good super designs are difficult to nail down, but I’m working on it!

Anyway Magnate is amazing and a bit of an ass and I like her so much <3 She’s a big time supervillain that uses the high tech gadgets she creates for your standard robberies heists kidnapping the mayor the usual. Her parents were shitty white collar criminals that on top of being totally uninvolved in their daughter’s life embezzled from their numerous charity organizations, leading her to be suspicious of anyone that calls themselves a hero + giving her a whopping case of trust issues and a loose grasp on ethics, cuz hey, morality may be a ruse but the power and prestige sure aren’t. She's worked hard and climbed the ladder and made a name for herself as a kickass supervillain, and she plays cool and dramatic but underneath all the bravado she’s just an endearingly awkward nerd who wants a friend, which is where the next character comes in~

So for plot reasons Magnate joins up with another even more infamous supervillain to get a spot as his right hand woman in his plan for world domination, and she’s fine and everything’s business as usual until she’s told that she has to work with another person he’s recruited for her part of the plan to do biochemistry stuff synthesizing the compounds they need while she engineers the tech components, and so enters best boy Dr. Bodhi Bright who crashes into her carefully curated life and ruins everything in the nicest way :)

listen, I LOVE this guy he’s weird he’s a weirdo, just a chill funky lil dude with the most incomprehensible moral compass on Earth. Because of their job he and Magnate have to spend a lot of time together forcing Magnate to actually socialize for once beyond hurling quips at her nemesis, and right of the bat Bodhi completely throws her off her game vis a vis her supervillain image with just his whole deal. He’s this sweet polite guy who’ll talk about a death ray in the same casual tone as the minutiae of city parking, he’s new to the villainy thing and he just thinks Magnate is cool. Bodhi thinks he’s just good at reading people but he actually has minor latent empathic abilities which let him pick up on Magnate’s bravado and so he’s just...not intimidated by her at all. He completely circumvents the whole ‘big evil supervillain’ thing and just talks to her like they’re normal coworkers. And it’s not like they can just find somebody else to replace him so Magnate’s forced to respond and build an actual relationship and rapport with someone for the first time in ever. So they get closer and become actual friends, Bodhi starts calling her ‘Meg’ because Magnate kind of sounds like Margaret, and she lets him. Meg shows him the ropes of villainy, and just sort of learns to be a person again through working & developing this friendship with him, remembering what it’s like to be genuinely happy and excited about her everyday life and care about more than just her job, to open herself up to care about other people at all, and this is a romantic comedy so of course as the story progresses they fall in love and just—GAH I love their relationship so much they're so good for each other I could talk about them forever and I’m literally writing a book about it so like yeah they’re great. my darlings <3.

Here I’ve got some memes to give a better impression of their dynamic

I've only really got one other important character left to talk about aside from Meg & Bodhi's boss (he's literally the worst & the major antagonist for the book that's all that needs going into for now otherwise this thing is just going to reach unwieldingly more rambly and specific heights) and she's the secondary antagonist, superhero extraordinaire and Meg's nemesis AmaZing (get it? like amazing? except it sounds like amazon? cuz she's a lady superhero—) in a shocking turn of events this woman is the best person out of any of the people here and also the most well adjusted, she is also a very interesting character to me and I could probably pull a whole other book out of her character if I wanted to. AmaZing’s real name is Zoe Amison, before she was a hero she was a professional ballerina with a kickboxing hobby that she used to keep in shape, her first night out I think she was just straight up dressed in her costume for Firebird or something. She has superhuman strength and agility, her powers manifest with these bursts of golden sparks and arcs of electricity which she can direct as a close range weapon, basically she’s very good at the big punchy aesthetics. She’s known as one of the best superheroes in terms of like who they are as people, she tries to help rehabilitate the supervillains she fights, including Magnate, even though most of them have none of it, any money she gets from her hero work she donates back to the community so she can contribute more than just punching muggers, and she does a lot of activism and charity events on the side. She makes most of the money she needs to eat and whatnot in the cornerstore she inherited that her family’s owned for generations, and she lives in the apartment above the store with her girlfriend because YES she’s a lesbian YES her girlfriend is trans YES they are disgustingly in love and YES they own a cat named Petal together. (Her girlfriend’s name is Callie (short for Calliope) she’s a nurse and patches Zoe up when she gets hurt on the job)

And there is so much more I could say about this thing but that’s about all I can muster right now in terms of like a basic overview of these characters. Thank you so much for this ask dude this was so fun to do!!

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 13//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd *bold tags don’t work)

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XXX

It didn't take much longer for Viviane and I to fully recover after Rhys and I arrived. The sentry who had led Rhys, and Kallias, to the lounging chamber had also informed his High Lord of our arrival. Thesan, always the gracious host at these summits, sent a handful of servants to attend Viviane and I—much to our mates' chagrin. The first time a maid had tried to bring us some tea, the males had bared their teeth and nearly sent the poor female running. Viviane and I quickly quelled their hostile mated instincts and after a full hour of rest, we were ready to join the other High Lords, as well as our allies in the Mortal Lands, in the meeting chamber.

Kallias and Viviane insisted they go ahead of us, instead of the four of us entering together; since Rhys and I had been the ones to call the summit early, they believed we should be the last to enter—so that we may announce our news, accept congratulations, and transition into the more solemn proceedings of our dispatch.

Rhys and I walked to the meeting chamber without the need of an escort; after a decade of summit's every spring, we knew our way around the High Lord of Dawn's palace. I chewed on my lip as we walked through the sun-stone halls, but as we grew closer Rhys stopped me in our path.

"You bow to no one." He reminded me, his violet eyes fierce as he adjusted the crown atop my head, and then cupped my face in his hands.

I nodded with a warm smile, taking a steadying breath as my hands came to rest on my stomach, covered by another maternity gown that Rhys had pulled from the collection his mother had made for me. This time it was made of multiple layers of a sparkling royal blue sheer voile fabric with capped lace sleeves, the skirts brushing along the floor delicately and a beautifully pleated sash resting just above the apex of my new rounded belly. There would certainly be no second guessing my condition, if my scent wasn't already indication enough.

After a couple more calming breaths, I threw my shoulders back and met Rhys's gaze, "I'm ready."

He grinned mischievously and placed a hand on the small of my back before leading me through the chamber doors, which was opened for us by sentries on the other side. I didn't falter as we entered the room, holding my chin up as everyone's eyes turned to me and Rhys. Before I could take in anyone's stare, I heard an excited gasp and turned to meet the striking blue eyes of Vassa, who rushed over to me and took my hands in hers.

"I knew it, I knew it!" She declared excitedly before moving a hand to my stomach, cooing at it happily.

I felt Rhys tense beside me, a low growl coming from deep in his throat, but the Mortal Queen didn't blunder. She had been around us long enough to learn that fae males were solicitous with their mates—in fact, being in a room surrounded by powerful beings had never intimidated her. She alone was just as powerful a being in her firebird form; a spell left unbroken, despite mine and Helion's best efforts.

"Oh congratulations! I'm so happy for you, and I can't believe it! There are two pregnant faeries in this room," she said proudly. "That is a rarity, isn't it?"

"Apparently not rare enough," came a gruff scoff.

It was then that I noticed Beron in the room, standing with his usual entourage of sons, and Eris off to the side—who quickly chided his father in the next breath.

"Certainly, you don't mean that Father. Afterall, Mother gave you plenty of sons." He said smoothly, serving Rhys and I a meaningful look as my mate moved closer to me.

He only scoffed again with a roll of his eyes, throwing back whatever drink he had in his hand.

"Well it looks like we all won this bet," came Helion's honeyed voice as he drifted over to Rhys and me.

I was grateful for the quick shift in conversation but had to send Rhys words of reassurance down the bond as his incensed gaze lingered on the High Lord of Autumn. He calmed as Helion approached his side, knowing that would be wiser than drawing up to his pregnant mate first.

"Though I'll admit, it wasn't much of a bet since no one offered any opposition," he said as he shook Rhys's hand in congratulations.

"I was on the fence for a bit, until Kallias and Viviane entered the room and informed us that you two would be along," Tarquin admitted, Cressida—his cousin and Princess of Adriata, trailing at his side as they met with the rest of us.

He shook Rhys's hand next and turned to me, nodding with a warm smile. "You have my congratulations," he said.

Cressida grinned as she chimed in. "A youngling is indeed a blessing, I'm so excited for you both." She threw her arms around me in an embrace, causing Rhys to stiffen again as he made room for her, but he easily relaxed a beat later.

"Thank you both," I said before pulling back and nodding in acknowledgement at Helion as well.

"Thank you too, Helion, though I can't believe you were the one to come up with the bet."

"It was Mor's idea," Cassian jumped in. He, Azriel, Mor and Nesta had silently made their way over to us during the brief exchange with Beron; all placing themselves at a safe distance, just in case.

"Only because Helion wouldn't stop prodding me for information," Mor said with a roll of her eyes.

I saw Helion waggle a mischievous brow at her. "To be fair, I tried asking our host first, but he wouldn't budge," he said, throwing a look at Thesan.

The High Lord of Dawn shrugged, "Rhysand wrote to me in confidence, and I was already providing a space for Viviane to recover as well."

"Thank you for that," Kallias said, his hand also placed on his mate's back. Though with her center of gravity skewed thanks to her enormous belly, it seemed he was helping hold her up.

"Yes, I haven't had the chance to thank you yet. I went unconscious after we got here, and Kallias had to carry me to the room," Viviane offered sheepishly.

"I heard you weren't the only one," Thesan said, glancing at me.

I shrugged, "Creating a life takes its toll."

"Indeed, it does, though I'm glad you two are both okay now." He said, more so looking for reassurance that we were in fact faring better than we had upon our initial arrival.

I nodded, but before I could thank him, Beron huffed in exasperation. We all turned our attention to him as he crossed his arms over his chest. I also took note of Tamlin standing with one of his sentries—Hart, I remembered, on the other end of the reflection pool in the center of the room.

"Let's drop the niceties, shall we, and get to the root of this meeting?" the older male scowled, his terse gaze fixed on me. Rhys, along with Azriel and Cassian, shifted on his feet.

"You called us all here to announce a pregnancy? Well let me be the first of the rest of these fools to offer my objection," Beron growled.

I put a hand on my stomach protectively, "What a relief that we aren't seeking anyone's approval, Beron." I interjected, returning his glare with my own.

"You should be, considering the child you bear has the potential to inherit a kernel of my power. Of all our powers," He snarled.

My blood ran cold as he voiced my exact fears; the anxiety that the other High Lords wouldn't welcome the news of my child once they realized a drop of their abilities could pass onto him. I couldn't look at their reaction as Rhys pulled me closer to his side; his hand returning to the small of my back, bolstering me.

"We have no way of knowing if our child will inherit Feyre's powers," Rhys said smoothly, though his violet eyes simmered with a cool rage—those stars that normally sparkled now smoldered.

"Just like I had no way of knowing I would pass any of my power over during her resurrection. I won't make that mistake again," Beron spat.

"May I remind you, again, that you offered that kernel of power? I didn't take it by force, they are mine, and if my child should inherit them, then I will teach him to wield them as I see fit." I said fiercely, my voice as unwavering as I hoped my eyes were.

Though the words were directed at the High Lord of Autumn, I made sure to emphasize them enough for the others, in case there were any doubts on their end as well.

"We've been through this before," Thesan said, coming to stand at my other side, "When we all agreed to fight alongside them in the war. Surely, you can get past the chance of a youngling inheriting some of your powers?"

I nodded gratefully at Thesan, who returned it and took another step forward as my heart pounded at the approval in his words.

"I certainly can," Tarquin offered, and I saw Cressida nod as well, both aligning themselves with where Thesan stood.

Helion casually strolled over, an apathetic shrug to his shoulders. "I would be impressed to see if the child inherits any healing abilities. Perhaps the youngling could be the one to break the Mortal Queen's curse, since its mother nor I can seem to," he said with a wink at me and then at Vassa, who had fallen in step beside Mor—flanked behind Rhysand and I, along with the others.

It was then that I realized they had formed a line in front of me, standing in the space between Beron and me. A show of their allegiance, and my heart swelled as my eyes burned in gratitude.

Like I said, my love, you are very well-liked. Perhaps even loved. Rhys said through the bond, squeezing my hip lightly.

Kallias moved to stand beside Rhys and me, holding onto Viviane's hand. "It would be interesting to see if our children would wield the same power. Perhaps there would be some healthy competition between them," he said.

Viviane smirked, "You mean a rivalry."

"You're all mad!" Beron snapped. He turned to Tamlin, who remained quiet, keeping his distance from the rest of us.

"You approve of all this?" he asked him.

I held my breath as Tamlin met my gaze, his eyes glancing between Rhys and me, then to my stomach. He was quiet for a few beats before turning back to Beron.

"I agreed to come and hear them out, not to hold some kind of debate over their child," He said simply.

Not necessarily a show of allegiance, but I was glad he wasn't snarling at me as he had when I confronted him at the Spring Court.

"I will not stand for it," Beron said, pure fury laced in his acrid tone. "It was one thing to agree to fight alongside one another in the war, but I never came to terms with you possessing my power," A sneer over at the other High Lords, "Nor will I. And neither will I accept some kind of Night Court abomination to-" his words were cut off as the tether that held back Azriel and Cassian snapped.

In a flash of wings, shadows and siphons flickering, the two Illyrians appeared before him—Cassian's fist landing on Beron's jaw as Azriel then caught him by his collar, snatching him up to meet his snarl.

"You will watch how you talk to my High Lady and how you refer to the youngling she carries, the heir to the Night Court." Azriel growled, his face inches from Beron's menacingly before he let go, causing the older male to land straight on his ass.

I squared my shoulders as Rhys's own preternatural darkness swirled in his shadows, our shadows, advancing a step forward while Beron shot back onto his feet—the other sons he brought along with him flanking at his sides. Eris then interjected, subtly moving between his father and Rhys.

"Father, we've had over a decade of peace since the war. Surely, we shouldn't break our alliance now over the chance that this youngling might inherit some of our courts power," He suggested.

"And what do you propose we do then, if he does inherit my power?" Beron snarled in reply.

Eris merely shrugged, eyes briefly glancing over to where Lucien stood before meeting his father again. "He wouldn't be the first one not of our bloodline to do so."

Before I could stop it, my jaw dropped, but I quickly covered my mouth—Rhys stiffened.

Did he just say what I think he said? Rhys asked through the bond.

How did he know? I questioned back, my eyes meeting his as the atmosphere in the room thickened.

Beron went rigid at his son's words, a confused look exchanged by his sons standing behind him.

"W-What...what are you talking about?" Lucien asked, breaking the silence that had befallen us.

My heart squeezed at Lucien's bewildered tone. He must have noticed Eris's look before he said the cursed words. I quickly scanned the room and noticed the Lady of the Autumn Court wasn't present—perhaps Eris's doing, and I wondered if he had actually planned to reveal his mother's centuries old secret. I hesitated as I turned my gaze over to the High Lord of Day and saw that the look on his face was that of confusion, though I saw the silent contention simmering in his eyes.

Don't say a word. Please. Rhys warned, subtly returning to my side—shielding me, and I saw Kallias do the same with Viviane. I wanted to protest, but with my condition hindering my powers, I knew there wasn't much I could do should things take a true turn for the worse.

"What are you talking about?" Lucien asked again, his voice brusque as he approached his eldest brother.

"Don't you say another word, Eris." Beron barked, finally snapping out of his shock.

Eris shrugged again, offering Lucien a half-hearted empathetic look. "Haven't you ever wondered why you stood apart from the rest of us?" He asked, unsympathetic.

"That's enough!" Beron growled again, drawing closer.

His movement caused Rhys and Kallias both to step in front of me and Viviane, their mated instincts calling them into action at the rising tension in the room. I stepped beside Viviane, who was far more vulnerable in her condition than my own.

Thesan cleared his throat, "Perhaps we should call it for the day and adjourn tomorrow morning," he offered.

"No," Beron spat, turning to Thesan and addressing the other High Lords, "If none of you will side with me, then perhaps I should take my power back on my own." He turned a vicious gaze to me, causing a feral and deep snarl from Rhysand's throat; his wings flaring wide as Cassian and Azriel appeared at his side—siphons glowing.

But it was Kallias who intervened on our behalf before Rhys could move. "Go back to the Autumn Court, Beron. If you're this adamantly opposed, then cut your ties and return to your homeland. While you still can," he said this with narrowed iced eyes.

"You dare threaten me?" Beron growled, baring his teeth.

Kallias's own menacing scowl matched the elder male, resolute. "You threaten our tenure of peace now and seeing as the rest of us will continue to ally with the Night Court, you are no longer welcome here."

Beron only continued to glare at the High Lord of Winter, unyielding as his eyes raked over the others. "You're all idiots. That child will be the very downfall of our courts, possessing each of our powers will only empower the Night Court," he threw a fervent snarl at me. "What's stopping them from using her and the child's power to their advantage? They could very well incite a new war, demolishing us-"

His speech was cut short as Azriel lunged once again. I saw truth-teller flash in his hands a second later and before I could open my mouth to protest, Beron froze as Cassian hauled him up—about to strike. Everyone turned to Rhysand, knowing he had a vice on the male's mind. His formidable gaze was honed on said male, violet eyes clouded as darkness seeped from his shadow and into the corners of the room.

I placed a gentle hand on his tense shoulder and saw the tightness in his jaw. I could see the struggle to hold himself back, fighting hard not to unleash himself on Beron. I caressed his mental shields, begging him to let me in—to soothe him and the instincts he wrestled with.

We're safe. I reminded him when he wouldn't let his guard down for me. No one is going to let him hurt me. You won't let him hurt me, or the baby. We're safe, Rhysand.

I saw the muscle in his jaw twitch as he eased whatever grip he held over Beron, though not entirely. The elder male gulped in air, breathing heavily as I realized Rhys had been choking the breath from within him. Cassian and Azriel each had an arm seized in their hands, waiting for a command from either me or Rhys.

"Let him go," I said.

They obeyed, but Rhys kept him detained. Eris cleared his throat, "I'll take my father and brothers back to the Autumn Court. If you'll still have me, I'll return alone tomorrow for the remainder of this summit. I've been attending these meetings for the last decade, and unlike my father," a grim glance at him, "I would like to uphold my end of the alliance."

I was initially surprised at his words, but a moment later I realized that this would be the start of his campaign to take over as High Lord of the Autumn Court.

We'll support it. We have to. Rhys said down the bond, and though his shoulders were still taut, and voice laced with anger, I knew he was right. I squeezed the hand I had on his shoulder in silent agreement.

I looked at the other High Lords, their entourages; at Vassa—with Jurian at her side, and at Lucien. All except him and Tamlin were poised at our sides, and it was then I realized they were waiting for our approval. This was our battle, and although they were ready to defend us; pounce if need be, they knew it was ultimately our decision.

I met Eris's amber eyes, narrowing mine as I stepped forward; standing opposite of him and looked over to where Beron stood, still fixed to his spot, his eyes raging.

"We'll allow it, but if you end up sharing your father's ideas, then the rest of us won't hesitate to convene and plot your downfall." I met Beron's stare again as I said the last of my sentence, making it clear who the threat was aimed at.

Rhys, Thesan, Tarquin, Helion, Kallias, and now even Tamlin stepped in behind me—Viviane and Cressida coming to stand at either side of me. All of us representing our courts, our commitment to one another.

"We are heralding in a new era, Beron," Viviane said as she faced the High Lord with me. "These younglings are being born into Prythian courts standing in alliance with one another, something that it hasn't been in centuries. We all urge you to reconsider."

My heart squeezed at her effort to appeal to Beron, knowing that he was already a pawn in the coup against our court. His actions thus far confirmed our earlier suspicions, but once he was gone then Rhys and I would be able to warn them all.

I felt Rhys's hand come to rest on my hip, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Kallias approach Viviane's side as well. The other High Lords, our mortal allies, and all of our entourages flanking behind us. I reached down to squeeze Rhys's hand, Viviane doing the same with Kallias, but I didn't get the chance to fully notice their exchange. In the second Rhys had released his hold on Beron's mind, I heard him mutter under his breath, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he shot out an arm—summoning a ball of fire directed straight for me and Viviane.

He was quick; too quick for anyone to register. All I could manage was a gasp, my eyes wide with terror as my surroundings seemed to slow, and that ball of fire hit an invisible force only inches away from our faces. It wasn't until after the last of the flames dissipated that I realized my hand had shot out in front of me as well—creating a shield of hardened air I hadn't summoned in years. My other hand trembled at my side, just shy of touching Viviane's large belly.

I was gasping for air, trembling and my ears roared with the sound of my blood rushing to my head. I barely noticed that the room around me had exploded into some kind of action as I dropped my guard. My ears continued ringing, my eyes stung, and the only thing I could hear was the muffled sound of my own panicked breathing—chaos continuing to erupt around me. I briefly saw wings, siphons, and Rhys's face before I noticed Beron hit the ground. No one had rushed to his aide.

He tried to kill me. Us. My baby. Viviane and her baby girl. My baby boy. My son.

I'm not safe.I'm not safe.I'm not safe.

I hadn't realized my eyes were closed until I felt gentle hands on either side of my face. Warm hands. Safe hands.

You are safe. You're okay, Feyre. Rhys pleaded with me, whether through the bond or aloud, or both.

Then, I heard the sound of sobbing, gulping breaths. My ears slowly stopped ringing and I realized it was my own panicked sobs I heard.

"Look at me, Feyre." A gentle command, Rhysand.

I finally opened my eyes, meeting the silver-lined violet eyes of my mate. Breathing became easier and I managed to stop whimpering; instead gripping his arms, his hands still holding either side of my face. I still couldn't register my surroundings, nor the others, but I heard their voices. The harsh timbre of the males seemed to be giving commands, checking in with one another; the females sounding more soothing as they did the same. Still, I never tore my eyes from Rhys's—not until I could breathe again.

Slowly, the room returned, and I dropped my head to Rhys's shoulder—overwhelmed and exhausted at the effort it took to summon my shield. I let him scoop me up as he crossed over to a lounge, but my eyes slipped shut as I allowed myself to fall unconscious in his arms.

[adrenalineguide]

Jeep Wrangler Sport S and Mustang 2.3L Convertible: Two Fours for Summer Fun

Words and Photos By Michael Hozjan

No I’m not talking about cases of beer. I’m referring to the number of cylinders found under the hood of two American icons in the automotive landscape – the Jeep Wrangler and Mustang. Don’t scoff, four cylinders have been making a huge come back in recent years and no, these are not your grand dad’s four cylinders. Both the Jeep and the Mustang rely on turbocharging to get the extra oomph when needed all while delivering below average thirst numbers compared to their V6 and V8 counterparts. Let’s face it do we really need all that horsepower all the time and isn’t it nice to save some bucks at the pump.

Jeep Wrangler Sport: Back to its roots

“There’s something amiss here.” I tell myself as the engine comes to life. I hit the off button and check for the glow plug light, there isn’t one. For some reason the engine doesn’t sound the same, and yet there’s something eerily familiar about the sound.  I mistakenly expected the Wrangler to be diesel powered, which it was not. The diesel mill is offered in the Gladiator that I was due to drive, but at a later date. Blame it on old age or just on my eagerness to get behind the wheel of one of my favorite rides.    

Well one thing lead to another and another and before I knew it, it was several days later that I popped the hood to gaze upon the turbocharged inline 2.0L four cylinder. THAT’S what the sound was… somehow, the engineers at Jeep have managed to get the sound of the old familiar World War II era four cylinder Jeep into this modern, 80th anniversary edition Wrangler…or maybe it’s just me. One thing is certain, it doesn’t sound like the Wrangler I’ve been accustomed to.

Maybe it’s just coincidence, maybe it’s good corporate planning, with Jeep’s closest off-road capable rival, the Ford Bronco making its debut this year, Jeep has stepped up the ante, not only have they launched the Wrangler Xtreme Recon equipped with the first ever 35-inch rubber straight out of the factory, but are also offering a slew of powerplants to make any competitor nervous: beginning with this week’s tester, there’s the 2.0 L turbocharged four cylinder mated to the 8-speed TorqueFlite automatic, the trusty old 285 horsepower Pentastar 3.6L V6s remain and come with either a manual or automatic trans, there’s also a mild hybrid version mated to the 3.6L tagged the eTorque, a 3.0L EcoDiesel V6 with 442 lb-ft of torque and 260 horses and for the first time in four decades, the Wrangler gets a V8. Available exclusively (dare I say for the time being) in the Rubicon 392 trim, the 6.4L throws out 470 horses and the like amount of torque through the eight-speed TorqueFlite automatic transmission and Selec-Trac full-time active transfer case.  It blasts the Rubicon 392 to 100 km/h in less than five seconds making it the quickest Wrangler in history!

Well it appears the Jeep has come full circle with their mills, reverting back to four cylinder power to move their off roaders about. But don’t think for a minute that these are the old WWII flatheads. No sir, and not one but two count them, two four cylinders are offered. Aside from my Snazzyberry Pearl colored 2.0L turbocharged tester which pumps out 270 horses and 295 lb-ft of torque, capable of towing 2,000 lbs (907 kilos), that’s 35 more lb-ft of torque than its V6 counterpart, there’s also an electrified four cylinder that adds an electric motor. The plug in hybrid 4xe delivers 375 horses!  Stay tuned for more on this one.

Above and below: There’s nothing missing in the four that you wouldn’t find in the six.

If you’re a regular reader of my posts you’ll know that I do NOT check performance numbers or price tags before I get a feel for what the vehicle feels like. Does it feel like 300 horses, does it feel like 400 lb-ft of torque? I tend to reserve looking at the stats until after my first, second and third impression. That said, despite having 270 horses, it still seemed a bit anemic from my previous Wrangler encounters (with the V6). There’s a noticeable difference at half throttle when leaving a red light or stop sign, but that quickly disappears as you build up speed. Punch the go pedal however to wake up the turbo boost and grab on to the steering wheel. The torque kicks in and bites the tarmac like a banshee. Suddenly Jeeps decision to go with this combo makes perfect sense.

On the highway the four delivers smooth, linear power and actually feels better mated to the 8-speed automatic than the six. Passing semis or climbing grades isn’t a problem and while I didn’t get the chance to go off-roading I suspect that the added torque would be able to let this Wrangler do some serious climbing prowess without hesitation.

Of course one of the other main attributes is that the Wrangler can shed its top when the weather turns warm. With two tops available it still remains the only convertible SUV in the market.

Above: A hidden cubby hole under the trunk floor comes in handy

One of the Wrangler’s Achilles’ heals has always been it’s thirst for fuel. My best has usually been around 12L/100 kms even when feathering my foot. Well the 2.0L netted me a 9.75L/100 average, on top of which a $200 saving over the automatic trannied V6 makes getting into a Wrangler a lot easier. The Sport S starts at $45,465, my fully loaded tester came in at a substantial premium, which leads me to want to see this mill in the 2-door Wrangler variant with a manual transmission. Now that would truly be full circle. If you’ve always wanted a Wrangler but weren’t crazy about their fuel consumption Jeep has just given you several reasons why you should reconsider.

Price as tested: $62,030 *

*Includes excise tax and destination fees

Mustang 2.3L Convertible: Is this the best Mustang ever?

It’s a balmy July afternoon, the kind we wait all year long for and fantasize about from December through to March. I’m in the left lane of the 401 heading west, passing semi after semi. The sun is beaming down on me and I get to thinking how nice this thing would be for a cross-country run. Indeed it doesn’t get much better than this. There are so many semis it reminds me of the rocking chair scene in The Bandit, only I’m not driving a T-top black Firebird with a roaring V8 and Sheriff Buford T Justice chasing me, but a drop top Antimatter Blue (yes that’s the hue) Mustang with a turbocharged 2.3L four cylinder.  

For decades Ford has been grappling with the notion of having both a high performance Mustang and an economy Mustang, and yes when it first debuted there were trims that encompassed both. But over the years that concept got lost with muscle cars taking the limelight. It wasn’t until the gas crisis of ’73 that the economy car resurrected itself in the Mustang II, but in the process lost the muscle slice of the pie.

Well guess what, the 2.3L fits both bills easily. Yes diehard muscle heads may pooh pooh the thought of another four cylinder in a Mustang but they have no idea what they’re missing out on.

Pillaged from the darling all-wheel-drive Ford, the Focus RS, the 2.3L mill has been turned longitudinally to fit into the pony car. Although Ford has given the Mustang a larger twin scroll turbo, there are 18 fewer horses pulling the pony car over the RS. Torque however has been retained.  

With 310 horses and 350 lb-ft of torque on tap mated to an optional 10-speed automatic my tester galloped along without so much as missing a breadth. Thankfully Ford has retained the 6-speed manual. My unofficial timing showed zero to a hundred kilometers shot in at 4.6 seconds!  I have to say that as sweet as the four cylinder is, the exhaust note just tries to hard and gets annoying after a while.  It’s like look at me, look at me. Oh shut up! Thankfully there is a shut off switch.

My ‘stang came with the High Performance Package, a $6,500 option inherited from the Mustang GT, which meant stickier 19” Pirelli rubber over the base car’s 17” units, larger brake rotors with four piston calipers, stiffer springs, a beefier rear sway bar, strut tower brace, a larger rad, a 3.55:1 limited slip diff. In other words, all the right stuff to make this a serious tourer.    

Above and below: Top up or top down the Mustang looks great. Front spoiler is part of the High  Performance Package.

Another plus for the four-cylinder argument is better balanced shedding 147kilos (auto trans) off its front axle. The result is a crisper handling ride with a nominal amount of body roll, less nosedive under hard braking. Switching driving modes from Normal to Sport mode for attacking the lakeside twisties shows the car’s true potential with the engine’s responsiveness hitting the sweet spot over 2,500 rpm and the fun factor sans V8.  

This would make an interesting track car.

Inside you get all the usual fan fare of goodies including cooling and heated power leather seats.  The hi-po package adds an oil pressure and turbo boost gauge and engine spun aluminum instrument panel. Fit and finish is spot on with comfortable buckets making the drive that much more enjoyable.

Above: Despite what it looks like my 6’ frame spent several hours back there in a friend’s convert for a three-hour trip to the Syracuse Nationals a few years back without a single complaint.

Like the Jeep the Mustang doesn’t come cheap. While the base price is a very reasonable $43,370, my tester’s option list added another $11,800 to the price tag. Stepping up to the $6,500 high performance package is a no brainer, especially if you’re a serious driver, but while the 10-speed is perfectly matched to the engine and responds wonderfully to throttle inputs I’d go with the 6-speed manual and trim $1,750 off the tag. Other options included $1,000 AM/FM/CD/HD radio, $2,300 for adaptive cruise, voice activated touch screen navigation and the Ford Safe & Smart package.

In a move I just don’t understand is the spare tire/wheel has been relegated to option status! In its place is a compressor - just the ticket for a bent rim, blow out or flat in the middle of nowhere on a dark rainy night. Come on Ford!

Yes the Mustang buyer has a number of trims and powerplants to opt for all the way to the 100 grand Shelby GT500 but really, wouldn’t you rather have a car that hits all the right fun buttons without breaking the bank while still passing a gas station or two ( I averaged 10.7L/100 km). Oh and let’s not forget the savings on the insurance premium on the four cylinder So shrug the V8 monkey off your back and hit the road in a four.

Price as tested:  $56,970*

*Includes destination charges

[elsanna-shenanigans]

December Contest Submission #14: The Queen Of Fire And Her Sister’s Warmth

Words: ca. 4300 Setting: Canon AU Lemon: No CW: Angst, Burns, Traumatic Experiences, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety

It was a cold winter’s night in the kingdom of Arendelle, at a time when everyone should have been in bed… except for one young girl, Princess Elsa of Arendelle. The young girl was sitting up on her bed, holding a book to her chest. She loved to read, always fascinated by the stories written on the pages before her.

Yes, she knew she really should have been sleeping, but this story had been very engrossing, loving the romance between the two princesses that was unfolding before her eyes. As she turned the page, she looked down at the small stuffed penguin at her side. Sir Jorgenbjorgen, her constant companion from when she was a baby.

Though, he wasn’t her only company that night. On the bed opposite her, Elsa knew her baby sister Anna was fast asleep. The young girl had hopefully been tired out after their father had read her a bedtime story, but Anna had a natural… fire to her that couldn’t easily have been put out.

Anna wasn’t like most girls her age as she had something that set her apart from the other children. Did this make Elsa jealous? No, she loved Anna and the wonderful gift she had. She was her best friend after all and even if they were different in some aspects, they both still got along.

However, just as Elsa was about to finish the chapter she was on… a voice called out to her.

“Psst Elsa!” Little Anna called out to her sister.

The older girl put down her book, seeing Anna sat up in her bed, wide awake. “What is it, Anna?”

“I’m bored and can’t sleep,” Anna groaned. “The sky’s awake, so I’m awake… so can you play with me?”

Elsa sighed. “It’s a bit late for playtime Anna… maybe tomorrow okay?” The older girl pulled her cuddly penguin close to her and went back to her reading.

Anna just pouted for a moment, really wanting to have fun with her sister. And then in her mind, she remembered the one thing that would always be able to wrap her sister around her finger.

“Do you wanna see some magic?” the little girl teased.

And then, Elsa gave in. The book could wait for another night. It wasn’t like it was going anywhere. She placed the book on her bedside table, sighing. “Fine, Anna, you win.”

“Yayyyy!” the little girl cheered. Anna then hopped off her bed, grabbing some pillows and sitting down on them. Elsa joined her, bringing her own pillows and Sir Jorgenbjorgen.

Anna chuckled, holding out her hands. She concentrated and focused for a few seconds, as a spark of flame formed in her palms. With her will alone, Anna morphed the spark into a shape, a small bird that then flew into the air, obeying Anna’s command.

“Behold, my firebird!” Anna cheered.

Sitting forward, Elsa stared in awe at Anna’s creature. She didn’t know what divine being had blessed Anna with this gift, the power to create fire and flame… but she thought it truly was a blessing. She only wondered how those powers would grow as they got older.

The firebird flew around the room a few times, before landing back into Anna’s hand, the younger princess reabsorbing it into herself.

“Ta-da!” She chirped.

Elsa giggled. She had to admit… Anna’s little magic show was much more interesting than her novel. She watched as Anna danced on, making other shapes and displays with her mastery of fire. There didn’t seem to be any limit to what Anna could do.

Their parents had forbidden Anna from using her powers in public, however. Arendelle was a kingdom that had long held a prejudice against magic, a stigma that sadly wasn’t going to be broken anytime soon. There hadn’t really been an explanation of how Anna came to be born with her gifts.

But did that really matter? The flames Anna produced were beautiful and Elsa adored them. The shapes and patterns Anna could display with her flames… she was wonderful and Elsa couldn’t have had a better little sister.

After finishing dancing with her flames, Anna grinned at her sister. “Okay, Elsa! Anything you wanna see?”

“Me?” Elsa wondered. “I thought this was all you, Anna.”

The younger girl giggled. “Yeah, but I wanna make you happy! Just tell me what you want and I’ll make it with my fire!”

Elsa chuckled. “Okay…” She thought for a moment. “Can you make a snowman?”

“A snowman?” Anna wondered.

“Yeah, a snowman.”

“Oooh! A snowman made out of fire!” Anna chirped. “That sounds awesome!” She thought for a moment and quickly, began to manipulate the sparks of flames in her hands to conjure up a shape above her head. There the image formed, into the shape of a short, chubby snowman with twigs for arms and a pointed nose. Anna grinned, running around in awe of her own creation.

“Wow!” Elsa exclaimed. “You did it!”

“I made Olaf!” Anna responded.

“Olaf?”

Anna giggled. “Well he needed a name… and he seems a bit lonely, so I’ll make him some friends too!” She then started to manipulate her flames again, creating more images of various creatures to be Olaf’s friends. A reindeer, a large bulky snow monster, a small little lizard and even a mighty horse that she even animated, Elsa watching the steed gallop through the air of the room.

However, Elsa then noticed how large and complex the shapes were. They were getting too large to fit in the room… and she wasn’t sure if Anna could make any more. She could see how exhausted and tired Anna was starting to get. She needed to stop this before she hurt herself.

“Hey, Anna,” Elsa stated. “I think we can end it there for tonight… can you put out your flames now?”

“Uh… okay,” Anna replied nervously. She tried to hold out her hands… to her despair, she couldn’t reabsorb the flames back into herself. Her eyes widened the panic as the fiery shapes started to grow larger, their images distorting. What were once cute animals and snowmen were now twisted, infernal creatures.

“Anna shut it off!” Elsa exclaimed.

“I can’t… they’re out of my-”

KABOOOM!!!!

The enormous mass of fiery energy exploded right in front of Anna and Elsa’s faces, flame enveloping not just their room, but a good chunk of the castle as well. The wooden roof came down on top of them, pinning Anna down under a pillar as the room was ablaze.

Elsa was knocked back, surrounded by the burning flames. The older girl panicked, seeing her sister pinned down under the rubble. “Anna!”

“Elsa… help!” Anna pleaded, too weak to try and pull herself free.

“I’m coming!” Elsa called to her, grabbing Sir Jorgenbjorgen and rushing towards Anna.

However, unbeknownst to Elsa, another wooden beam above their heads was about to give way. Anna looked up and stared in horror as Elsa rushed towards her, knowing the beam was going to come down on her sister’s head.

And then, with a mighty CRACK, the beam came loose, tumbling down towards Elsa.

“Elsa look out!” Anna shouted. In that moment of panic, she fired a blast of flame that managed to knock her sister out of the way… and hit her in the face. her sister landed on the ground, the beam missing her by only a few inches. But as she lay unconscious, Anna saw a part of her blonde hair turn a charred grey.

“No!” Anna cried out. “NOOOOOO!!!”

xXx

Anna gasped, recoiling from the memory of the accident. She looked around in panic for a moment, almost thinking that Elsa was in danger. To her relief, however, Elsa was nowhere to be found and in the mirror, she saw that she was no longer that little girl, but a beautiful young woman.

A woman who today… was going to be crowned Queen of her kingdom.

For Anna, she had secretly been dreading this day. Mainly because of how anxious it made her feel and when her anxiety flared up, all that trauma she’d had over the years came bubbling to the service. It had all started several years earlier, when her parents admitted to Anna the truth about her birth… or rather Elsa’s birth.

Elsa had apparently been born of an affair from before Anna’s father had met her mother. As such, she and Elsa were actually half-siblings and only an heir of pure blood would inherit the throne. That meant Anna was the one who would be Queen, instead of Elsa like she’d always expected.

Though she had accepted the responsibility and had gladly gone through with all the years of study and preparation to become Arendelle’s monarch… she hadn’t expected to take the throne so young. The tender age of twenty-one. Even her father hadn’t become king nearly as young. But she couldn’t have predicted the future, that hers and Elsa’s parents had died tragically at sea six years ago.

Since then, Elsa had been the only family Anna had, but the soon to be Queen had shut her out a little, not wanting her to get too close. Though she hadn’t thankfully killed Elsa all those years ago, the incident had left its scars, in the form of the grey streak in Elsa’s perfect platinum blonde locks. And Anna was scared of hurting her still. Although all these years, she did long for her sister’s warmth…

Her magic had also grown stronger over the years, meaning Anna had to better control her powers. The incident all those years ago had practically burned half the castle down, though again, thankfully no one had been killed. While the castle was being rebuilt, mainly with stone and brick replacing the flimsy flammable wood, Anna and Elsa stayed with relatives from the north who understood magic and helped to train Anna to control her gifts.

And yet, even with all this control, after all this time, Anna felt like her powers were one step away from breaking loose and burning the whole kingdom down. She felt a deep shiver course through her veins as she merely thought about her magic losing control. Her hands started to warm up frantically, a sort of subconscious reaction to whenever these cold spells overcame her.

But Anna soon cooled her hands down, as she knew she wasn’t really cold. Just her anxious thoughts playing a trick on her. She sighed, knowing that today she’d likely have to put up with quite a few more cold spells.

She walked to the window, gazing at the courtyard and all the guests and foreign dignitaries that were arriving. Anna was happy to see so many new faces, all to cheer her on as Queen… and there was also the nagging thought of her becoming so overwhelmed that she would lose control.

No, Anna silenced her thoughts. I can handle this. I’m not afraid of my powers and I’m not afraid of being cold again.

As she looked out into the courtyard, she caught a glimpse of the massive ice sculpture in the yard. It depicted a massive beautiful dragon with wide transparent wings and a figure of Anna riding on its back. Elsa had so many hobbies, quite a lot of them artistic in nature. Her ice sculptures were among the most famous.

Seeing the sculpture made Anna relax as she thought of Elsa, how caring and sweet the older girl was. Over the years, she had grown to love Elsa, to be so grateful for her kindness. She didn’t deserve it… which made her feel rotten about the fact that she had developed feelings for her.

She hadn’t known when the feelings started, maybe while they were alone together following their parents’ deaths or perhaps when they were younger and discovering themselves.

But whenever it had happened, it had happened… and Anna was hopelessly in love with her sister. Which made her aversion to her warmth even more tragic. She adored Elsa deeply, despite them being sisters, and yet sometimes she was too scared to even hug her.

And it wasn’t exactly a secret. For the past few years, she’d been rejecting possible suitors… though there had been this young man who was the heir of the local ice harvester’s guild named Kristoff. She had tried something with him at least and while he had been sweet, Anna realised that in the end, she only had eyes for Elsa.

She looked at her gown, black and green, fit for a Queen. It fit her figure snugly and there was a long cape trailing behind her. She truly did look the part of being a Queen and hopefully… Anna could be the Queen Arendelle needed in these uncertain times.

Just then, Anna heard a knocking on her door.

“Your highness!” a servant called to her. “It’s time for the ceremony!”

Nodding Anna walked towards the door. “I’ll be right there,” she called back.

And so, a few moments later, Anna was walking down the aisle for her coronation ceremony, surrounded by the attended guests. As the choir sang our their hymns and all the guests gazed upon the soon-to-be crowned Queen, Anna meanwhile had only eyes for one person in particular.

It was Elsa, standing at the altar and watching her with a smile on her face. Anna looked at her again and beamed back, before her expression faltered once she saw the grey hairs on Elsa’s brow. Again, a reminder of her failure and her pain. Elsa would often tell people she’d been kissed by a fiery imp as a child as a way of explaining her hair, but Anna hated admitting the truth, that she was the cause.

Elsa stood in the chapel, watching Anna being walked to the altar for the ceremony. While she knew her sister looked gorgeous in her gown, she could see the intense regret and doubt on her younger sister’s face.

If she could do anything, it would be to relieve Anna of this burden and take the throne herself… but Elsa was a bastard. She had no right to the throne… but that didn’t mean it had to be forced on Anna. She knew how full of life the young girl was and didn’t want to see it wasted by being stuck inside with royal duties.

Yes, Anna would be a great Queen, but she had her whole life ahead of her… and that wasn’t counting the magical powers she’d been concealing all these years.

At least the pair of them looked completely gorgeous. The teal dress Elsa was wearing fitted her gloriously as well as the gloves, though of course, all the attention was on Anna and her stunning regal attire. She looked the part of a Queen perfectly.

As the Queen arrived at the altar, she shot Elsa a quick smile before the ceremony proceeded. Elsa knew she was trying her best and in her heart, she was proud of her. And yet, she still wished it was her taking the throne and not Anna. But Elsa was powerless, even if she was the eldest of the two sisters. Well, half-sisters, but did it really matter?

As Anna went and accepted the vows and promises of her birthright, kneeling before the altar as the bishop spoke, Elsa noticed the confidence in Anna’s voice. She was trying her best, bless her.

But Elsa just hoped Anna could hold it in until the end of the ceremony. This was all so much pressure on her, but she was proud of her baby sister for holding it this long. And then, the crown was finally placed on the Queen’s head.

It was beautiful, gold with several emerald jewels encrusted in it. As Anna took the orb and sceptre that were presented to her, she faced the crowd as the applauded rang out. For she was now Queen Anna of Arendelle, Sovereign of the north, worthy monarch of greatness.

But all Elsa could notice was the anxious expression of Anna’s face, as parts of her two objects started to glow red with heat. It took all of Anna’s effort not to melt the two objects in her hands. Quickly, Anna placed the orb and sceptre down, smiling at the gathered crowd.

At that, Anna and Elsa breathed a sigh of relief.

xXx

Later that evening, there was a grand ball held in Queen Anna’s honour, celebrating her ascension to the throne. It was truly a wonderful affair, with laughter and music and dancing, not to mention the food. As Anna walked out onto the stage after her name was called, she waved politely and beamed at her guests.

The most stressful part of the day was over and now she could enjoy herself. Eventually, Elsa was summoned to her side, the older woman waving at the crowd before striding to Anna’s side elegantly. Both sisters waved at the applauding crowd, Anna beaming with queenly radiance.

As the crowd went back to their festivities, there was a silence between the two sisters. Anna wasn’t exactly sure what to say, so it was Elsa who eventually broke the awkward pause.

“You look beautiful,” she whispered. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Anna replied. “You’re not so bad yourself. A new dress?”

“One of Mother’s old ones,” Elsa told her. “So… how does it feel to be Queen?”

“It feels… different,” Anna admitted. “Not sure if I’m gonna get used to people calling me "your majesty.”

“You will, and I’ll be there for you,” Elsa replied. She smelled the air, sensing a familiar aroma filling her nostrils. “Is that… chocolate?”

“Mmmm yeah, smells amazing!” Anna chirped. “I can’t wait to gorge myself on it later.”

“Oh you and your appetite,” Elsa responded. “But… don’t you think you should dance a little first?”

“Who with?” Anna wondered, as she then saw Elsa holding out her hand. “Oh….”

The blonde woman smiled at her younger sister. “Would do me the honour of having your first dance as Queen with me, your majesty?”

Anna felt nervous for a moment. She was still wary of touching her sister, but she knew that as Queen, it would be rude to refuse such a dance. Besides… she had longed to dance with Elsa like this. She’d even dreamed of it. She just had to be careful when it came to actually touching Elsa.

“I would,” Anna replied. “Gladly.”

Elsa then took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. Placing her hand around her waist, Elsa started to waltz with Anna, smiling at her. For a moment, all of Anna’s fears simply washed away as she was lost in Elsa’s embrace. But she shook her head, trying to remain in control.

The last thing she wanted was for her powers to flare up and her hands to burn that dress off Elsa… not that she wasn’t already doing that with her eyes. Anna felt ashamed to think of Elsa in such a manner, especially at that moment. But Elsa was clearly the more beautiful of the pair. Beautifuller? Was that even a word?

Her sister twirled with her, grinning at her as they danced. The eyes of the crowd watched them, and Anna was still desperate to remain in control. She was feeling the chill again, the horrible sensation rising up within her. But she kept staring at Elsa, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Bet you’re glad I took those lessons,” Elsa chimed in.

“Y-Yes,” Anna nervously replied. “Can we… go somewhere for a moment? I think I need some space.”

“Are you alright?” Elsa asked her.

“Fine!” Anna chimed in. “Just need some… air.”

Elsa nodded, and then they parted. The two sisters made their way off the dance floor and quickly into a side corridor from the room, the crowd completely unaware of their departure.

Heading through the hallways, they soon arrived at the balcony overlooking the gardens.

No one would disturb them there.

“Finally, we’re alone,” Anna admitted, the Queen standing on the balcony overlooking the castle’s beautiful gardens. While she had loved being at the party, not to mention dancing with Elsa, she needed this moment to just calm down.

Fortunately now, the chill inside of her was gone and there were no worries of any flareups.

Elsa sat with her, smiling at her. Anna truly was beautiful… but Elsa felt that at the moment Anna was still carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Are you alright?” Elsa asked her.

“Yes…. I’m feeling much better,” Anna replied. “Sorry that I cut our dance short.”

“It’s fine,” Elsa assured her. “I… could sense you were feeling a little stressed. Your powers aren’t flaring up, are they?”

“No, thankfully,” Anna admitted. “Look… can we just talk about something else?”

“Okay..” Elsa replied. “Do you… have any idea what your first act as Queen will be?”

"Oh, I’m not sure yet,” Anna admitted. “There’s just… so much I have to do now. I don’t even know where I’m supposed to start with all this ruling the kingdom stuff.” “You’ll have me,” Elsa said assuredly. “I didn’t spend my life studying to just sit around doing nothing all day.”

“There are your ice sculptures,” Anna remarked. “The one you made in the courtyard of that dragon is gorgeous.”

“You know what I mean,” Elsa told her sister. “Remember how we promised? When you’re Queen, I’d be your right hand… and I’m offering that hand to you.”

A cold shiver ran down Anna’s spine again, the all too familiar sensation. Yes, she wanted to take Elsa’s hand again, to accept her warmth… but even after all these years, she was scared of letting go of her powers again, of hurting Elsa again. The sight of the charred hairs on Elsa’s forehead reminded her of it all.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Anna insisted, but she could already feel the fire inside starting to get loose again.

Elsa could see that Anna was starting to get worked up. “No, you’re stressing yourself out, again, Anna. I can see it from here.”

“Elsa, I’m alright!” Anna argued. “I will be able to handle this! You don’t need to worry about me! I’m not a little girl any more, I’m Queen and-”

“And what? Only you can do this by yourself?” Elsa finished.

Anna stopped, hugging herself. She exhaled, trying to mentally warm herself up, to feel in control of her powers again. Even after gaining much better control of them after all these years, she was still frustrated that she was vulnerable to her own insecurities.

Elsa stared at her sister. “You’re… You’re still worried about hurting me again, aren’t you?”

Anna nodded. “I… I’m sorry… It’s stupid. It was so many years ago and I should have overcome it. I mean, I got my powers under control, I should be capable of this. I shouldn’t have freaked out on the dance floor.”

"Yes, you did get your powers under control,” Elsa stated. “But Anna… are you under control?”

Anna wasn’t sure how to answer that. Or rather, she did know how to answer that , but just didn’t want to say it. She was the Queen, she was meant to be under control. She hated feeling so vulnerable, so insecure. That wasn’t what a Queen was… but right now, she wasn’t a queen.

She was just a scared, stressed out young woman… who deeply wanted her sister’s warmth.

Elsa opened her arms, smiling kindly at Anna. “Come here,” she said softly. “Just let me hold you. I’ll take your pain away. Just let it go.”

“No!… I’m not in a good way right now,” Anna argued.

“All the more reason for you to be cared for, and shown love and warmth,” Elsa insisted.

“I could hurt you again!” the queen shouted.

“No you won’t,” Elsa stated. “I know you, Anna. I knew you from the moment you were born. You would never hurt a fly.” And then Elsa pulled the Queen into an embrace, hugging her tightly. Anna panicked for a moment… and then, it all stopped. The pain, the anguish, the anxiety… for one brief moment, it vanished.

Holding onto Elsa tighter, Anna shed a few tears, feeling her sister’s gloved hand stroke her. She felt warmth, love, compassion from her sister… and she didn’t feel scared about hurting her. She did have everything under control, she did feel at peace… and it was thanks to her sister.

As they pulled away, Anna stared into Elsa’s eyes. She was lost in her beauty, her warmth, that smile. Even those charred hairs in her perfect blonde locks didn’t detract from her gorgeous appearance. And in place of the anxiety she’d felt, Anna felt her attraction grow for her sister.

And then on impulse… she kissed her. Her hands cupped Elsa’s cheeks and letting out a passionate moan, Anna kissed her sister deeply, holding her close. Elsa panicked, quickly pushing Anna away. Both women stared at one another with flushed faces.

“I’m so sorry,” Anna whispered. “I didn’t…”

“You… You kissed me,” Elsa stated. “But, Anna… we’re….”

“I don’t care if we’re sisters,” Anna admitted. “You give me warmth and love… and I want that love. I need that love. I need your love if I’m going to be a good queen. I want you to keep me warm again… just like when we were kids.”

Elsa didn’t know what to say. She just stared at Anna completely dumbfounded. It felt wrong, that kiss had felt wrong but she knew that Anna needed this. She did feel guilty… but if she would be Anna’s lover, if she could be her warmth then Anna would be at ease again.

“You want me to be your warmth?” Elsa asked.

Anna nodded. “Please.”

Then, Elsa smiled. “I’ll do it, your majesty. I’ll keep you warm.” And then, she cupped Anna’s cheeks and kissed her passionately, Anna holding her as the kiss filled the Queen with warmth and love.

[thefightingbull]

Changes!

@thebaccararose​

Lisa’s eyes widened at the sight before her. Her big brother and his alpha partner were in the process of pulling a sleeping child from the back seat of the firebird. It was a tiny pup, skinny with baggy jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that was at least two sizes too big. She stepped forward from the grass to the concrete pad in front of the garage to get a closer look. 

She’d never seen her brother so gentle with a child before. Well, other than herself of course. Lenny practically raised her, and he’d always been warm and affectionate, but even so, there was a softness in his movements that she was certain hadn’t been there during her early years. 

Lisa watched as her brother carefully handed the boy to Mick. “You can put him in our nest for the night. I’ll be right in.” 

Mick didn’t argue or question anything Lenny asked of him. Or ordered for that matter. The alpha of their small pack was as loyal and devoted as anyone could possibly be. Mick rarely voiced concerns, trusting his mate knew what was best for all three of them. She’d always been impressed by that. Lisa had been told that it was supposed to be the opposite. Omegas falling in line with their alpha’s orders. She’d likely never fully understand the dynamic, being a beta herself. 

“Since when do you pick up strays?” Lisa asked casually, careful to keep any hint of accusation or malice from her tone. 

Lenny smirked. He always smirked. She wasn’t even sure he knew how to smile anymore. She’d rarely seen one from him when they were kids, but now? Leonard Snart never smiled. Not even when she knew he wanted to. Doing so might mean his guard was down. Or so she assumed was his theory. 

 “He needed me,” Leonard shrugged. 

 “That’s it?”

 “What more does there need to be, Sis?”

 She rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip irritably. “Why did he need you? Where’d you get him? Anyone gonna come for him? You gonna keep him for a few months or is this forever?” 

 Leonard scowled at her, but she was immune to it by now. “His guardian wasn’t doing a good enough job. We found him on our job in Gotham. No one’s alive to come for him. And this is forever.” 

 “He’s not a dog or cat, Lenny,” she warned with a severe frown. “You can’t change your mind later.” 

 “Never gave you up.” he said with a sneer, clearly insulted by her comment. 

 “True, but we’re blood.” 

 She watched as a sharp anger filled his expression briefly before it was taken over by a look of indifference. Leonard was too controlled to lose his temper; especially with her. Lisa knew she never needed to doubt or feat her big brother. But she could be just as cruel and cold as he was and his temporary loss of control that purposely triggered told her all she needed to know.

 “You and Mick are serious about this? You’re claiming him as your own, as part of our pack?” She realized aloud. 

 Leonard nodded. “The pup needs a pack, Lis.” 

 “But you never wanted kids,” she frowned. 

 “Never got much of a choice in the matter,” he corrected, and she felt bad for even saying it. “Besides, I connected with him Lis, in a way I’ve never felt before. 

 “He ran to me first. He was in danger and instead of running to the man who had raised him or the two alphas in the room, he ran to me and hid behind me. I knew the moment I looked down at him that I wouldn’t leave him to that shithole that Gotham has become.

 “So yeah, Jason is ours now. Mine and Mick’s son and your nephew,” he was silent a moment as he grabbed a worn and damaged backpack from the car before locking it up. “Don’t spoil him with garbage food. He’s in need of some home cooked meals and plate loads of vegetables.” 

 “Then somebody had better learn to cook in this pack,” Lisa smirked as she followed her big brother into the small bungalow, they called home. “You realize the majority of our food is take out, right?” 

 “Maybe I should hire someone,” Lenny frowned. 

 “You know that’s a terrible idea,” she said. 

 “Can’t really trust Mick with cooking,” her brother pointed out. “He gets distracted by the flames.” 

 “Maybe convert to an oven and stove that doesn’t run on gas?” She suggested. 

 Her brother was thoughtful but Not about kitchen appliances. She could see the way his eyes kept wandering back to his bedroom. She knew he wanted to be in that room with his alpha and his new pup. It was a new sensation for Lisa, being jealous of Mick and a little boy. They were two people that didn’t share blood with her and were unlikely to ever see her as their whole world. At least, not the way Lenny has throughout their childhood. 

 “It’s okay, Lis,” Lenny stepped forward and pulled her into a strong, warm hug. “You’re always going to be my baby sister and I’ll never stop taking care of you.” 

 She nodded and enjoyed the feeling. They both had a reputation for being cold as ice but never with each other. He saved all his humanity for his pack of three, now four and she silently berated herself for forgetting that. She had nothing to fear. 

 “I’ll go clean up the office and make sure it’s suitable for your new pup,” she offered. “You should go lie down with them; you look exhausted.” 

 He did exactly as she asked, and she did what she said she would. The office of their small home was never used for heists. As a matter of fact, no one brought “work” to this home. All three kept jobs and plans and plots out of the house that she and Lenny inherited from their grandfather, Detective Dillon Snart. 

 It wasn’t just a safety issue or a way to keep nosy neighbors or super powered young adults off their tail, but a way to honor the man they both dearly loved. Their childhoods had been awful, but Grandpa Dillon has been the best part of it before he died unexpectedly. 

 She was still convinced of Lewis Snart’s involvement. 

 As she finished up, she looked around the space and frowned. It wasn’t at all suitable for a child. She’d need Mick’s help getting the large desk out. Lenny would need to pack up a lot of the books on the shelves and that rutty old couch would not replace a bed. But for a night or two, it would have to do. 

 She creeped down the hall toward her bedroom and the master that her brother and his partner used and stopped at their door. It was open just a touch and she could help but peak inside. 

 Mick was spooning Len on the king-sized bed while Leonard had the child in his arms, spooning him. The boy with cherubic black curls and pale skin that was speckled with fine brown and black freckles touched her heart. He wasn’t just some boy. 

 Jason was her nephew.

 She felt a thrill at the thought and grinned to herself. No matter what Mick or Lenny said, she was going to spoil her nephew. As a matter of fact, the moment he was acclimated to her, she was taking him on a shopping spree.