#it's the equivalent of reuniting with an old friend

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

RIBS- J. TODD

day eighteen of the june bug masterlist

pairing: boyfriend! jason x fem reader

word count: 1k

summary: you and jason are thrilled to be spending some time back home with your family for summer holiday, until you realize you're forced to cram into your childhood bed

warnings: PURE FLUFF!!

 “you're the only friend i need (you're the only friend i need) sharing beds like little kids (sharing beds like little kids) and laughing 'til our ribs get tough (laughing 'til our ribs get tough) but that will never be enough (but that will never be enough)" - ribs, lorde

You had practically dragged Jason Todd up the stairs by his fingers.

Moving the hunk of muscle you called your boyfriend was no easy task. He towered over you, and was equivalent to a bolder. But somehow you found the strength to tug him upstairs as soon as your mother asked him if he wanted to look through photo albums.

It was then, you decided,  time for bed.

Despite his and your mothers protests, you tugged him by his fingers up the stairs, after draining your tea mug and kissing your mother goodnight.

You were spending some of your summer vacation with your family- and the two of you had arrived earlier than the rest of the distant family.

It was good, you had wanted to get there earlier to get settled in without younger cousins yelling and running around, and great grandmothers saying how much you’ve grown (you stopped growing when you were fourteen).

Jason seemed to enjoy not only your family, but your childhood home as well.

All the memories were so prominent between the walls, whether it be the pencil marks of your height on the doorframe, or frames of childhood pets. It smelt like apple pie and beeswax candles, and you couldn’t help but smile as soon as you stepped inside, wrapping your mother in a big hug before she fussed and gushed over Jason.

Oh Y/N you’ve lucked out! Such a handsome young man.

Jason just smiled. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m the one who lucked out. Your daughter is an angel.  

Those words rang through your head as you passed the little angel she had perched on a shelf as you trudged up the creaking old wooden steps.

“I wanted to see your baby photos.” he teased, making you roll your eyes.

“And I want a million dollars. Get me drunk enough on moonshine and wine one night and maybe I’ll budge.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you say princess.”

You grabbed bags set outside your room, hands instantly freed of their weight as Jason took them. He never let you carry anything, no matter how light it was. There was no use trying to argue with him.

Nudging your bedroom door open, you let him step inside, observing the little space. Your quilt was still on your tiny double bed, with your stuffed bear seated against the pillows.

“That’s Mr. Mittens. You’ve been my replacement for him and his cuddles.”

“Am I booted out now that you’re reunited?”

You shrugged, laughing. “Maybe. I’ll see how cold I get tonight.”

He walked over to your vanity, peering down to look at the polaroids you had taped on the mirror, near your brushes and ballerina music box. A staple from your childhood.

“You’re room is so fuckin cute. Though I knew it would be. Look attcha.” he looked at you through the reflection, a smile on his face as he admired you.

“Cutest girl I ever saw.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks and you shrugged, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. He made butterflies flutter in your stomach whenever he complimented you- and he found it fucking adorable. It was always cute to get a rise out of you. You crinkle your nose like a baby bunnies as you turned, flickering on your lamp.

A poster of Paul McCartney was illuminated, and he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Go get ready for bed you. I’m being nice and letting you have first dibs at the bathroom.”

“I’m shocked. Have you smacked your head?”

You grabbed a pillow and it hurled it at him before plopping on the blankets. “Don’t make me regret it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

By the time he was done, you had managed to unpack your bags, laying out extra towels you had found in the closet. You wasted no time slipping into the shower, wanting to scrub away the grime of travel and exhaustion that hung over your body.

Humming a little tune, you scrubbed away with the soap your mom had left for you- your favourite, strawberry rhubarb. Once you were certain you smelt only of strawberries, you slipped on a little lace nightgown and began to braid your hair, wrapping little bows around the ends like your mother did to you when you were little.

You had missed home.

It was wonderful to be away and to travel with Jason, but it was nice to settle down too. It appeared that Jason had the same idea- to settle down, as you found him in bed, his glasses on as he read his book.

He looked like he was sprawled out in a doll bed.

“Jay.”

He looked up, adjusting the thin rimmed glasses up on his nose. “Yeah sweetheart?”

“You’re kinda taking up the whole bed.”

He frowned, trying to readjust himself moreover, but he couldn’t. “Sorry sweetheart, I’m not trying to.”

“I know baby, you can’t help it. I just… I don’t know where I’m gonna sleep.”

He shrugged, setting down his book and slipping off his glasses. “Suppose you’ll just have to get realll close to me then huh?”

You giggled as he reached over and grabbed your waist, tossing you onto the bed- or what was left of it, and his side. You cuddled in close, hiking a leg up as you wrapped around him like a koala bear.

“You’re so warm. N soft.” you hummed, purring like a cat as his hand came to stroke little circles on your back, holding you close to him.

“Mm. Am I better than Mr. Mittens?”

You shook your head. “No one is better than Mr. Mittens.”

“A close second then?”

You nodded. “Close second.”

He hummed, running his hand up and down your back, giving you little scratches and gentle massages while he resumed his book, letting you drift in and out of consciousness. Wrapping you up under your quilt, he kissed the top of your head as you sleepily murmured something along the lines of I love you so much before you were out again.

And when he turned out the light, all that was left was the little night light flickering softly in the corner of your room, and the sound of cicadas chirping away outside, near the opened window.

“Goodnight my sweet angel.” he whispered, draping you on top of him so you both could fit in the little bed.

Surprisingly, it was the best sleep you had in a while. 

[tmnt-ocxcanon-comp]

TMNT OCxCanon Comp Round 2

Learn more under the cut!

Esmeralda ‘Emmy’ Pawikan

@honeylief

Rise TMNT Raphael Hamato, Status: Dating

Surf ‘N Turf Blurb

Emmy’s a free spirit, always on the lookout for new experiences and largely unafraid of challenging the unknown. Her interests range from earth sciences, to history, and a bit of dabbling in old medicine. Her usual personality is bubbly, carefree and a little wild as the ocean that runs in her veins. With how she wants to explore, her ambitions and dreams shift daily, but always ever optimistic no matter where the whims take her.

Her and Raph could be equated as the beauty and brawn equivalent to turtles everywhere, but they’re a lot more than that! His smiles make her heart flutter. Her laughter makes him feel giddy. They love to eat good food, have good play dates, dress up and promise to always have each other’s backs no matter how tough things get.

https://artfight.net/character/3196272.emmy-the-turtle

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Ana

@mrabubu

Rise Leo. Dating.

A young girl, Ana, once a friend to the turtles, had feelings towards Leo. She showed him the care and acceptance he long needed, which, in the end, melted his heart. During the Kraang invasion, she was taken away and turned into Kraang zombie, after which was presumed dead. But 10 years later, she still had feelings for the blue turtle, and those feelings were strong enough to retain her consciousness and humanity, helping her to find Leo after all these years. Now reunited, Ana’s living in the resistance’s base, struggling with being half Kraang, and now being the one in need of care. But Leo is determined to do anything in his power not to lose his loved one ever again.

https://www.tumblr.com/mrabubu/755268260842373120/so-i-did-kinda-sketch-ref-for-my-kraang-character?source=share6.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[ghibli-collector]

For anyone who’s already seen Boy and the Heron i found this really interesting article where Ghibli Boss/Producer Suzuki was interviewed recently by indie wire and explains the background of the characters from the new Ghibli film, I’ve copied the full article below or you can click the link to go to the interview but once again it contains so many spoilers

‘The Boy and the Heron’ Is So Personal, Hayao Miyazaki Needed a Year to Grieve Before Pivoting in a New Direction

Miyazaki came out of retirement for his first film in a decade, about his friendships at Ghibli with the late co-founder/director Takahata and co-founder/producer Suzuki.

When Hayao Miyazaki pitched “The Boy and the Heron” (GKids, now in select L.A. and NYC theaters) to Studio Ghibli co-founder/producer Toshio Suzuki in 2016, he asked permission to make the story about himself. This took Suzuki — his friend of nearly 40 years at the time — by surprise; the legendary anime director isn’t known for getting so personal. And yet this aligned perfectly with the notion that Ghibli films are devoted to reliving memories.

“I agree that it is Miyazaki’s most personal film because he actually told me,” Suzuki told IndieWire over Zoom through an interpreter. Not only is “The Boy and the Heron” inspired by Miyazaki’s childhood (he endured the firebombing of Japan during World War II and his father was director of the family’s aircraft manufacturing factory), but also his career at Ghibli with his two closest friends: the late studio co-founder/director Isao Takahata (“Grave of the Fireflies”) and Suzuki.

“Miyazaki is Mahito [the 12-year-old protagonist voiced by Luca Padovan in the English-language version], Takahata is the great uncle [voiced by Mark Hamill], and the gray heron [voiced by Robert Pattinson] is me,” Suzuki added. “So I asked him why. He said [Takahata] discovered his talent and added him to the staff. I think Takahata san was the one who helped him develop his ability. On the other hand, the relationship between the boy and the [heron] is a relationship where they don’t give in to each other, push and pull.”

Collectively, it’s a lot to unpack: Miyazaki came out of retirement for the second time after “The Wind Rises” (2013) to make his 12th feature — the semi-autobiographical, hand-drawn fantasy for his grandchildren. It’s about destruction, loss, and rebuilding a better future through imagination, inspired by the novel he adored as a child (“How Do You Live?”).

Mahito loses his mother in the firebombing of Japan and relocates to the countryside, where his father (voiced by Christian Bale), who runs an air munitions factory, marries his sister-in-law, Natsuko (voiced by Gemma Chan). Traumatized, angry, and confused, the boy encounters a talking heron (part bird, part man), who tells him that his mother is still alive and guides him to an alternate world in a magical tower shared by the living and the dead. There he encounters his great uncle, the architect of the tower, and reunites with both his mother (voiced by Karen Fukuhara) and Natsuko.

At first, Suzuki resisted green-lighting “The Boy and the Heron” because of Miyazaki’s age (he’s 82) and the great expense (it is arguably Japan’s most expensive film but has made the equivalent of nearly $80 million at the country’s box office). Yet Miyazaki wore down his resistance with his enthusiasm and impressive storyboarding. The film took seven years to complete, and Suzuki needed to hire some of Japan’s most talented animators outside of Ghibli to handle the task (including supervising animator Takeshi Honda of “Neon Genesis Evangelion” fame). With diminished stamina and failing eyesight, Miyazaki was unable to oversee the production in the same manner as when he was at the height of his creative powers and relied on Honda to draw, redraw, and review under close advisement.

But with the death of Takahata in 20018, a grief-stricken Miyazaki was forced to scale back the role of the great uncle in the story, who had previously been more central to the boy’s life. “After Takahata passed away, he wasn’t able to continue with that story, so he changed the narrative and it became the relationship between the boy and the Heron,” Suzuki continued. “And in his mind, initially, the Heron was something that symbolizes the eeriness of the mansion and that tower, even ominous, that he goes to during war time. But he changed it to this sort of budding friendship between the boy and the Heron.”

Miyazaki first toyed with the idea of exploring the theme of friendship in “The Wind Rises” (inspired by real-life fighter design engineer Jiro Horikoshi during World War II) before abandoning it. “So this time around, when the Heron became the centerpiece of the story, and he came with the storyboards, I was careful for him to not portray me in a bad way,” Suzuki said. “Having said that, I’ve known Miyazaki for 45 years. I remember everything about him. There are things that only I know. There are things that only the two of us know. And he remembers all these small details, which I was very impressed with.”

For example, when Mahito and the Heron sit and chat at the house of Kiriko (voiced by Florence Pugh), a younger, seafaring version of one of the old maids, it is a recreation of the way Miyazaki and Suzuki would meet. “The place that we do our meetings, where we have our conversation is at his studio, his atelier,” he added. “And he has this like large table, but we don’t sit facing each other, we sit next to each other, and we never look at each other when we talk. And what we discussed was very similar.”

During production, Suzuki became impatient to see the new storyboards with the great uncle. It seemed Miyazaki was intentionally stalling while grieving about Takahata. “My question was: ‘So when is the great uncle going to appear?'” said Suzuki. “He built this great character, but he never appears in the storyboards that he would bring me. But it took him actually about a year after the passing of Takahata that he was able to draw that character into the storyboards in the second half of the story.

“And the most surprising thing for me was when I saw the storyboard where Mahito was asked by his great uncle to carry on with this work, this legacy, and he says no — he declines the offer. Miyazaki was someone who followed the path of Takahata for so many years, and I thought it was a huge thing for him [to follow a different path].”

Meanwhile, Suzuki confirmed that Miyazaki has not retired. The film has given the director renewed confidence to keep working on other stories. However, Miyazaki can’t focus on new ideas while “The Boy and the Heron” remains in theaters. “He needs to empty his mind again,” Suzuki said, “and then when he’s emptied his mind with a blank canvas, he usually comes up with new ideas. So we have to wait a little more.”

[redfountainpostin]

HOW EVERYONE DIES

One day, of course, all of them will be just pages in the history book, and I am honestly wondering how they'll go. I am craving the bitter sweet cinematic montages to "I know the end" by Phoebe Bridgers. Now, I think Sky goes last. Even after Bloom. He really dies an old man, white hair, hell maybe even white eyes that no longer see the world around him, just the memories of it, of how he changed it, and of the friends and love he lost. After his death, he's given a kingly ceremony and a dragonlord's burial- aka his dragon burns the body, and after a few days, his granddaughter claims him. Stella is second to last, Brandon having been third, and it honestly broke something in her when he died. She barely moved from his crypt where the ashes are, and after a week Sky had to carry her out, telling her Brandon would not want her rotting under the ground for him, she needs to be outside where it is light, with sun shining down upon her. Stella was a ruling queen until then, but after months passed and she did not yet recover from her beloved husband's death (Brandon died of a heart attack) she abdicated in favor of her oldest daughter, Adorea, (credit for the name @cyliarys-starlight) because she no longer felt fit to rule. She removed herself from the title of The Queen and is merely Queen mother until she died ten years later, on the same day Brandon died. She died in her sleep, but honestly, many will say it was broken heart, that she was only holding on for her children, especially the young Queen that would still need her advice at times. Layla, I think, was fourth to last, and she died in battle. Idk which battle, something that should have been minor but someone managed a sneak attack. Nabu died minutes later, as he was no longer fighting but clutching her dead body, screaming for his wife to open her eyes, crying his heart out :) They were found on the battlefield, her in his arms, pierced by the same spear (since Nabu was holding her when he was speared through the back). (Still a better love story than twilight death than what season 4 gave him) They were, by human standards, in their early sixties and they were holding up GREAT, btw. You have no idea how hard I am working not to kill any of the winx in childbirth, btw- you're welcome. The only reason why I am not doing it is because the lifespan's in Winx are crazy old and who the fuck would still be having kids in their 1000s/2000s. Then we have Timmy, who in a riding accident just a few years before Nabu and Layla- he fell of a horse and broke his neck, dead on impact. Million ways to die in the west, people! He lived a great life, even managed to still find light in after Tecna's death. But he didn't die right after Tecna, no- I can't kill the couples all together. Before him, it was... Flora. No dramatics here, she just fell asleep and did not wake up. Which is much better than Musa, who, I want to be brutal, got throat cancer and refused treatment because she'd never be able to sing again. She died in her studio, with a half written song still on her desk. The instrumentals were all done, though, so the song still gets performed, the lyrics just cut off halfway through. No one finished it out of respect. I think... Ohhhhhh, the song was about coming home to Riven, who died first- their equivalent of forties. So the song is literally about her dying and reuniting with her husband. Because Riven died first, and Musa lived for centuries longer, she did date after him, but she did not marry again. She was single when she got her diagnosis though, and that's when she started wearing her wedding ring again. Her boyfriends were lovely and she did love them, in a way, it is just that Riven was always going to be the love of her life. Her friends understood that too, and had great sympathies for her for being left a widow so young.

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x femreader)

>

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

I’ve written like 5 other parts so do let me know if more is wanted

—-❥-----------

“Hello and good morning listeners!” The radio in every household beamed with that familiar Louisiana accent. Brightening up their breakfast and drowning out the commotion from out in the busy streets. “Today’s broadcast is brought to you by your one and only Alastor. Of course it is! When isn’t it” he finished his sentence with a friendly chuckle. 

“Today should be expecting dry weather and a muggy air! Oh what wonders this country brings us, right y/n?” he beams over to a presence that lingers next to his. “ it sure does Alastor!” The second voice replied.

”silly me! Listeners, today I am joined by my new co-host, Miss y/n l/n! Get used to that name folks, she will be involved in your morning routine as much as I am. I’m sure of it” The radio was interfered with cracks and breaks in between words. Old piece of junk, never lasted long in hell. Especially when you buy it second hand from a drug dealer. The channel was lost, y/n desperately tried to get it back but was instead surprised with the voice of Jack from Jack the Ripper of bad news. His broadcast about sharing only bad news of hell. Which was basically everything that happened.

Y/n clutched at her radio, frustrated. It was the only piece of property they owned since falling into this shit hole.  What makes it worse is she remembers everything. There was no peace after dying, there was an eternity of falling and waiting. Wondering what the afterlife may bring you, wondering if heaven and hell really exist. Then comes the spiraling questions of, what if i end up in hell? No i couldn't, i lived a good life. But if i do end up in hell, i will never see my family again. What if this is the end, what if just fall forever. Then, just as you think this is your life now, you hit the floor. But there is no warm welcome of friends, happy to see you and inviting you home again. Instead, cold glances, threatening gestures and a crowd of unfamiliar faces watching you from every direction. 

Y/n had used her life experience to their advantage, struggles in life made their struggles in hell easier. It was almost the same, just without the morals, and friendly faces. She managed to land a job in a club for a while, that was enough to pay for hells equivalent of a studio apartment. Pay check to pay check was the new normal, which wasn't necessarily unfamiliar.  The main difference now was, no one knew her name. But not for long.

The club she worked in was like any other club, just with less shits to give and more fucked up to get. It was a strange change from a loved media presence. But you gotta do what you gotta do.  Over time, though, you make friends with the regulars. Especially when you're the one pouring the drinks. This particular day was just like the rest, except for a certain, unknown and unwanted guest to be welcomed into the establishment. Y/N spent her shifts pouring drink after drink, cleaning the glasses that were downed and then pouring more drinks. Occasionally having a conversation with a customer, few of them being pleasant or remotely normal. 

"Gimmie a drink love" a slurred voice yelled from the other side of the counter top, his body slumped over like he'd been shot and arms wailing about like he needed to be. 

"The usual?" Y/n offered a smile, before turning her back to him to grab a glass from the counter. 

"You know me" His wrinkled face made an attempt at a wink, while the rest of his body fought for him to stay vertical.  The drink was in his grasp in just seconds of asking. You learn to get quick in this line of work. "Hey, y/n, you noticed that creeper staring acha?" He gestured his head towards the booth in the very corner of the bar. 

"No, but then again, all of you are creepers" She turned again, trying to get back to organizing the shelves but he was persistent. "if i'm not mistaken, that is the sin of the wraith ring"

"You probably are mistaken considering you're drunk as an old pimp, Travis." The mans attention span for Y/N quickly faded, and he found himself back on the dance floor. Spilling his new drink over everyone while he popped his head up and down in the crowd. He was bound to be back soon. Music was rattling the glass counters behind the bar, making it hard to hear anyone without having to shout. So when the man from the boot appeared behind y/n, she couldn't hide the fact she was startled. His professional demeanor was a contradiction to his chilling appearance. What could only be described as a Goats skull was in place of a human face, wearing an old red top hat that was supported by a pair of curvy horns. He carried a finely carved stick, complimented with a gold crows head on the top which perfectly fit the curvature of his hand. And his eyes, were just cesspits of nothingness. Y/n was trying their best to find some sort of life in this moving entity, but it felt as if there was none. Till he spoke.

"I'm aware you have been waiting for this encounter to take place, Miss L/N" Nothing could have prepared her for the breeze that his cold tone brushed over her.

"I don't know who you are, sir" If she wasn't careful, he might be able to hear the fear building up in her throat. If her suspicions were correct, though, then it would be even harder to contain. 

"Yes you do, don't play games with me. I'm not here for that, I'm here for what i am owed." He paused, tapping his long nails on the wood countertop. The only barrier separating the two of them. "Your soul belongs to me".

An upbeat tune played in the background of the radio tower, accompanied by a soft voice humming along to it. Cleaning after hours wasn't a hard job, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She wanted more. More money of course, that was an issue during the depression, but also a name. For people to hear her talking and to be entranced and want to listen, just like how Alastor drew in so many people. 

"Oh, sorry dear. I didn't realize anyone was here." His voice startled her for a brief second, before her eyes focused on the man in the doorway. 

"It's ok, i didn't even notice you where there to be honest sir." She responded with a smile, continuing to sweep the floor of the confined space. "What are you doing here? I thought the tower was locked till 6am for broadcasts."

"Yes, it is. But i enjoy the solitude from time to time." he still lingered in the door way, now hesitant to come any further and ruin the newly cleaned floor. "Y/N, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I apologize, I'm usually finished sooner than this but i guess i was day dreaming" She laughed nervously under their breath. Now moving to the station to turn off the music.

"Leave it on" He stepped in the the room. "I like this song", encouraging you not to turn the music off as he sat down at the booth Infront of you. "And call me Alastor, dear, we are technically collogues."

She smiled agreeably, sitting down in the chair opposite. "Thank you, Alastor." she sighed as the seat melted into them, feeling as if they hadn't taken a break in years. There was a brief silence between the two, letting the music carry their unspoken conversation. 

"Your voice" he began again, pausing while she hummed in acknowledgement. "You have a voice for radio. Your pronunciation, your tone, the way you present yourself. Is that why you got a job here?"

Their conversations lasted until the early hours of the morning. Laughing, chatting, listening and then yawning when they realized how long they had been up for. Y/n reminisced, missing the simple and easiness of Alastor's companionship. The familiarity and comfort of those times she had with him. 

"your sole belongs to me" His voice echoed again, waking y/n up from their trance. Music from the club came beaming back into her head. "The running is over now. I'm calling my favor. Don't worry, you'll benefit from it, but you wont like it"

[vaultnewt]

Venture Bros AU where Rusty didn’t absorb JJ in the womb and the two were raised in different households, with Jonas Sr. taking care of JJ and their biological mom taking care of Rusty. The two knew each other during childhood but were separated when their mom moved, then reunited during their courses at State University and got along pretty well, but it’s not until a decade or two later that they meet once more at a science conference and eventually find out that they’re two parts of a divided set of twins.

Rusty is way WAY more well-adjusted emotionally, whereas JJ is…well, as you probably guessed, a bit more fucked up. He’s able to deal with the trauma he got from dear old dad a little better than Rusty does in canon, but he still has some major issues that he has chosen to either seek help for or just swept under the rug entirely.

((SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR THE ENTIRE VENTURE BROS SERIES + MOVIE))

Hank & Dean still exist cause Bobbi is actually a good friend of Rusty’s mom in this AU and, as a result, was able to rely on her and Rusty for help transferring her invisibility powers to Debra.

Now, you might be wondering, “What about The Monarch?!” Worry not, friends! He still exists and is still a clone of Rusty. Jonas Sr. was naturally curious about how his other son was turning out, so he remained in touch and on good terms with Rusty’s mom. Even had the two have some playdates together. He decided Rusty would be the perfect genetic template for the Fitzcarraldos’ son because he passed off better as their son than JJ would.

So, Jonas covertly got some genetic material from Rusty after his mom allowed him to do a medical checkup on him, noodled around with the extracted DNA a bit, and boom- tiny baby Malcolm was soon brought into the world for Don and his wife to raise, wildly scruffy eyebrows and all!

NOTE: My version of Rusty & JJ’s mom (and Malcolm’s biological mother) is a scientist as well. Her name is Dr. Janet “Janey” Wilson and her main role models during her girlhood were Marie Curie & Jonas Venture Sr- the latter of whom she was an intern for in her later years of college. Of course, you know how Jonas is around women, and after months of gradually increasing sexual tension between the two and an intoxicated night of festivities following a scientific breakthrough they made together…well. Let’s just say, JJ & Rusty were a direct consequence of that night…whoopsies!

Anyways, Dr. Wilson is a very joyous woman that’s basically the VBros equivalent of Ms. Frizzle from The Magic School Bus. Despite wanting to be childfree, she’s a good mama to Rusty and is the person who inspired him to pursue science in this AU. The two share a very sweet bond to this day and have collaborated on many projects together. :]

[accio-victuuri]

Wang Yibo’s May 2025 issue cover story 📝🪴

The stars in the night sky and the plants in the garden flourish and flicker, or wither and die, just like the cycle of life. A young man stands at the junction of day and night. In the space-time dimension he created, everything is given new meaning. The grand and the small, the reality and the imagination, the conventions and the meaning... collide and reconstruct in his inner sea. Just like the stars and the plants, he feels the deep blue wind and feels alive.

disclaimer: this a short story and not an interview.

At this moment, the protagonist created by the writer Ban Yu and Wang Yibo under the lens of VOGUE quietly reunited in a chapter of imagination.

THE PROMISED LAND

Like all people who have thrown all the good times in their lives on the surface of the sea, I learned the ability to arbitrarily divide the day and night early on. I lay on my back, toothpick on my mouth, slightly raising my head. If the storm bred by the ocean current and the subtropical high pressure has not yet been born, and the deck still retains its horizon attribute, I can order the sun to rise from any end of it, or translate it down, so that I can hide safely in the shadow and get a moment of longer sleep; like all people who waste all the good weather in their lives on love events that will sooner or later disappoint people.

I have never encountered any clear days on the sea. Gray fog floats, waves are fierce, and our ship is like being chased by a team of rats, always getting narrower and narrower, with strong winds and reefs everywhere. The Germans, wrapped in the hurricane, stood like solidified black shadows, circling around, chanting low spells, much like some hypnotic rituals I encountered in South America.

They taught everyone devoutly and lovingly: sleep is almost equivalent to death, but being awake does not mean being alive. For a moment, facing this scene, I thought of the wolves that lingered in the wilderness, patrolling all night without forming a team. A blue jack who lost everything in the tavern encountered these red-eyed beasts on his way home.

When the strong wind flattened everything, the two sides met each other in sincerity. How should we deal with it? Why did he have to cross the wilderness? Often before we could come up with an answer, the sound of a sinking net would reverberate from the inside of the ship, as if something had entered our internal organs, making us not know whether to scream or vomit first. In short, it only takes one lightning-like collision, our boat shakes a few times, as if swallowing up a gust of hot sea breeze, and then it is like an old man with a violent illness, rushing to the shore to rest, so that he can listen to his heartbeat quietly and make sure that his limited life will continue. The generally damaged fetus longs to see the shore, just like a strong man longs for his regrets.

During those days when I was stranded, I lived a dark life. I went to many places and made many friends. Of course, I also had enemies. Sometimes the difference between the two was not so obvious, depending on the situation.

Once, in a tavern on the island, a long-haired Indian told me the origin of the word hurricane. The pronunciation was a bit strange and ambiguous, and it was difficult to imitate. It turned out that it belonged to their language, and they were the first to return this name to this constantly flowing world.

Another wanderer singer who was born in the Caribbean region immediately objected. He said that this word clearly came from his hometown. It refers to one of the gods of creation and can also be extended to a metaphor for an invisible demon. The former was very disdainful of this. He raised half an eyebrow, patted the singer on the shoulder, and told him that the last time he talked about this allusion, one of the listeners around was Christopher Columbus, which was probably a few hundred years ago. I hope you can also become such a great conductor of ocean currents. The singer was silent for a while, drank a glass of wine, and then he sensed the irony in the words. He tapped the table with his fingers, took out the short knife he carried with him, turned around and rushed towards the Indian. His movements were so fast that the afterimage on the ground looked like a hungry leopard. I saw that the situation was not good, so I jumped up and hugged him tightly from behind.

The singer couldn't break free from me, and he shouted and cursed loudly, refusing to give up. The speed of waving the knife in the air reminded me of how sailors waved the white flag when they met a strong opponent. Although the Indian had experienced many storms, he was also shocked. The afterimage of cold sweat dripping on the ground flashed with a faint light, resembling the stripes of a leopard. Afterwards, he lowered his head, showed a cunning smile, apologized to the singer, and said, yes, you may have encountered the hurricane earlier, the words belong to you, but the last time I talked about it, the great Columbus was indeed present, there is no doubt about that.

Perhaps out of respect for this pioneer explorer, the singer's breathing gradually calmed down, and he took the embroidered short knife into his arms. In just a moment, the sun set. The Indian bought three glasses of good wine. After we toasted, we drank it all.

The singer walked to the center of the tavern, shook the bell on his wrist, and sang a sad ballad that none of us had heard before. It tells the story of a young gardener who worked hard in the flowers, waiting for dawn and sunset, and many flowers bloomed gorgeously, but his lover never appeared.

The flowers talked to him every day, but he always said nothing, neither comforted nor sad. Little gardener, little gardener, can you also listen to my dream. It's a good song, but it's a pity that I only remember this sentence now. After the song, the singer retreated to the door, bowed and greeted, and then left.

When I saw him again, it was another story many years later. But before singing, he gave me the short knife and told me that we would meet again. If you recognize me and no longer need it, please return it to me. Of course, as the price of keeping it, I will also keep something for you at that time, in this long world, in our long and humble life. Then, he went to hug the Indian tightly, like a pair of close old friends who were about to part, and it was completely unimaginable that they had drawn their knives against each other before. While the two whispered, I put the short knife between my boots.

The winter chill rushed from bottom to top towards my head. I suddenly felt that I had become a brave person, wanting to defend something, for the song, or a word, a person, for the great direction, or a basket of flowers.

The tavern closed, and the Indian took me to the garden on the island. On the way, he told me that the singer had just told him quietly that he let him go not because of an apology or an obstruction, but because he saw the yellow flower pinned on his chest. The singer recognized it at a glance and said that it was planted by his friend and there would be no other origin. The Indian was very excited. The gardener was also his close friend and might become yours, he said to me.

Let me put it this way, he said again, if there really is the ship you mentioned, and it was indeed hit by something, then, I think it could only be this night that may not exist. I was puzzled by this, and he didn't say anything more. What I didn't tell him was that this night was fleeting, and there would be no other one.

My ship and I have rested. At sunrise, I will set sail again, for the song, the great direction, or a good person who makes me sad, and also towards the next round of stranding. But at this time, I just said to him, the night has one advantage, which means we always have the same amount of time. The Indian laughed and laughed until midnight.

Then, like a magic trick, the ruins of a large ship appeared beside him, which was very inconsistent with the color of this quiet and monotonous night. I stopped and looked for a long time. How to describe such a small and rich plant paradise? It seems to be parasitic in the body: all the branches are trembling, as if writing stories in the air; all the leaves extend to different directions, sparse and dense, like frozen ancient ice, and all the flower keys fully display complex patterns under the moonlight, which reminds me of the deep whirlpool in the sea or the sky in the evening always opposes the moment when the universe keeps blinking with root red or dark blue.

Perhaps I have been at sea for too long. Before this, I had never thought that plants were such vivid beings. I could even sense their breathing, appearing and disappearing. Under the denser night, the plants were whispering, forming waves of gentle noises like waves, transmitting to the distance. When I was shocked, the Indian rang the door knocker and called the owner's name.

Now I think his name does not seem to belong to this century, and has a similar origin to words such as hurricane, comet, and continent. Not long after, an elegant figure stood up from among the plants, responded to the Indian's call with a sharp whistle, then shook his shoulders and walked towards us. I looked over and saw that many flowers made way for it, like the desert rising and the sea water pouring in, and a proud swimmer with a slender figure floating on the waves.

I think the Indian was really tired after such an incident and talking for almost an entire night. Soon, he fell asleep on the grass, and a handful of banana leaves automatically covered him like a swaddling cloth, trying to protect his sweet dreams.

Next to the honeysuckle, our gardener friend, yes, at this moment, looking at our common sleeping Indian friend, I think we are close friends, and a natural trust has enveloped our hearts - like talking to ourselves, we began to talk about the names and habits of the plants. The starry garden, he said to me. Every plant is equivalent to a star in the sky, flourishing and shining, or withering and extinguishing, all like the cycle of life. You know, I have spent too much time at sea and read a lot of books, from ancient times to the present, so this argument does not seem special to me.

After that, he continued to talk about the origins of these plants. For example, the bunch of white geraniums did not come from South Asia, but from West Africa. There was only one piece of land there that produced flowers of this color. They covered the tropical back like snow and never melted.

A friend brought them back for him from afar. The red and yellow Lantana grew on the beach by the sea and was moved here. It is poisonous and has a well-developed root system. It must be carefully cleaned to prevent invasion and expansion. As for the half-human-high thorns on the side of the column, they are named because the leaf gum has thorns. They stand upright like swords. They are the loyal guards and brave warriors here, guarding all the noise and silence. No one can easily bypass them. The more he talked, the more confused I became, because here I could not feel the time and season at all.

The plants that are usually seen always show different appearances: the flowers that overwinter bloom on the same branch with the fruits of midsummer, and the leaves that stretch towards the day are curling up at night.

It covered the back of the tropics like snow, and it never melted. A friend brought it back from afar. The red and yellow Lantana grew on the beach by the sea. It was moved here. It is poisonous and has a well-developed root system. It must be carefully cleaned to prevent invasion and expansion.

As for the half-man-high thorns on the side of the porch, they are named because of the thorns in the leaf axils. They stand upright like swords. They are the loyal guards and brave warriors here, guarding all the noise and silence. No one can easily bypass them. The more he talked, the more confused I became, because here I could not feel the time and season at all.

Those plants that are usually seen always show different appearances: the flowers that overwinter bloom on the same branch with the fruits of midsummer, and the leaves that stretch towards the day are spending the time curling up at night. After I asked my question, the gardener did not answer, but fetched a bucket of water, bent down to water, and stared at the watch.

He turned the wheel repeatedly to calibrate it, then another plant, and repeated the process. I bent down with him and thought for a long time before I realized that it was like a secret hint of magic or hypnosis. He used this method to make the plants recognize the era and time they were in. The banana leaves covering the Indians belonged to the Age of Exploration, representing a new and strange distant place.

The people sleeping on the ground seemed to be resting on the seashore. The trees with new leaves belonged to the 19th century, like solemn saints, giving great comfort to the suffering people after the wind and snow. The Scutellaria baicalensis at my feet belonged to my hometown. In the meadows and swamps, every July and August, it would bloom with crystal purple flowers, like gems or fireflies. Even at night, it would point out the direction of the water for the lost stars.

I missed everything there. It was also my only dream. As I was thinking, the gardener gestured to me, and I followed him.

When we reached the empty land, I found that during the long period of stranding, the ship had obviously outperformed the mud and sandbanks. At this time, most of the water had penetrated, making the whole ship look like it had grown out of the soil, similar to some ancient plant, huge and silent, with a strong and sturdy root system and lush branches and leaves that covered the sky.

When the few moonlights shone down from above our heads, I finally saw the gardener's clothes and appearance. He looked like someone I knew, but because I drank too much or too many years had passed, I couldn't remember it for a while.

The gardener looked at me, his expression as if he had seen through some mystery. Well, well, I thought at that time, he knew it a long time ago, and he knew that I would always carry some private seeds and leaves with me. Every time I reach land after a sad moment, I will talk to a plant about my worries for half a day, and then I will take its leaves, or sometimes its fruits, and carefully place them on my body, close to my heart.

This is the method a South Asian wandering poet told me - tell your story to those flourishing unknown things, and it will keep it for you for a long time, until some end. Now, they seem to have arrived at their promised land. The gardener, my friend and my guide at this time, has been cleaning the dirt and debris on the ground for me. Of course, the short knife on my boot also came in handy. I used it to dig down and split the warm soil.

After the work, I left it to the gardener, and he didn't thank me. The posture of putting away the knife was like putting away an object that belonged to him. In short, with his help, almost all the memories that were retrieved were distributed here in sequence.

I leaned down, whispered to the plants, and turned the wheel on the watch, with a serious and meticulous expression, as if checking every tiny vibration.

The sky became brighter, my eyes gradually moistened, and everything became almost transparent. At this time, at the bottom of the cabin, I heard some sounds of sea water, which I was very familiar with. Every time we left the shore, the waves always made such a beautiful invitation to us travelers.

Looking at the busy gardener, I thought to myself, so time passed like this, and at the same time, it also went backwards, the shuttle wheel went forward and backward, towards the four seasons, and towards the century that had just passed and had not yet come.

The gardener and the plants stayed in the same moment, forever here and there. Just like the prophecy that has not yet disappeared, a precise collision at night; just like the oath that was made, as a price, it will always keep something for us, such as those people and things that have been forgotten now.

Anyway, before I had time to say goodbye to this mysterious gardener, the long whistle sounded, getting closer and closer, the compass and the ocean were calling me. This gardener friend was still listening to other people's dreams, selflessly calibrating the seasons, memories and essence of life.

I thought, maybe I should leave quietly, without blessing or saying goodbye, there will always be a part of me that stays here, stranded, decaying, born, wandering, rotating back and forth between flowers and leaves, and our big ship has already set sail.

source

[icedragonlizard]

My interpretation for Hyness after HiAD, as well as his dynamics with Kirby and all the dream friends

In my verse, Hyness became very slothful after he was freed from the Jamba Heart's influence. He doesn't do much with his life afterwards, and is basically the equivalent of an old man in retirement.

The reason why he's become so slothful is because he's incredibly overwhelmed and worn down by the combination of all the stress that he went under during his corrupted phase and all the guilt that he bears over his actions.

Even though he's exceptionally grateful to Kirby and the star allies team for rescuing him and the Mage Sisters at the end of HiAD, he's not exactly a happy person. If anything, he's actually a little miserable by virtue of all the stress and guilt he has over everything that happened. He does not feel good about any of it. He definitely has some relief that the bad stuff is done, but he's really messed up by all the regret he has over it.

He went through a bunch of pain and suffering while he was corrupted, enough to where it's been having some long-term lingering even after he's better. And he feels awful about what he did to the Mage Sisters. He hurt them really bad, didn't he? It haunts him that he sacrificed them to Void Termina. One of them is still unbreakably devoted to him, but the other two have hang-ups. They're all ultimately a reunited family, but their relationship just simply isn't the same as it once was. They have some complications even after they've been saved in HiAD.

All of these complexities have led to Hyness becoming inactive and lethargic. After being purified, he spends about 95% of his time at his home in the Jambandran Base. He's just chilling out at home and taking it easy. He's basically having a permanent mental break. The Mage Sisters love to commonly go out, have fun and cause chaos, and their dad is just relaxing at home while they do that.

And because Hyness spends the vast majority of his time at home, most of the dream friends very seldom see him after HiAD. The only times they see him post-HiAD is when the Mage Sisters take him with them for a Popstar vacation once every blue moon (and I mean literally once every blue moon). That does happen, and it's why I say 95% as opposed to 100% for Hyness staying home, but most of the Mage Sisters' visits to Popstar and other planets are done without bringing him with them.

This is the reason why Hyness is not in the list of characters that are present in my Google Doc for Kirby Character Dynamics. He barely has much of anything to do with a good chunk of them by virtue of rarely seeing them post-HiAD. That being said, however, I will post his dynamics with Kirby and all the dream friends in this post further down below. Again, many of them very seldom see him. There are exceptions, however. You'll see which ones see him more often than others.

Hyness acts very nice and polite to people that visit the Jambandran Base. However, he can get stressed out easily and is still capable of talking at a million miles an hour if he resorts to starting a rant, so probably not a good idea to set him off. One of the dream friends has ended up causing him to do it once, though.

And now, finally, to his dynamics with a lot of the Kirby cast. Let's start with his daughters.

Zan Partizanne: Zan, being the Mage Sister that's the most devoted to Hyness, is also the most forgiving one. She doesn't hold his actions against him at all, really. She's literally just happy to have him back. It warms his heart. He feels like he doesn't deserve his daughters anymore, but it makes him touched to see that Zan is still unwaveringly indebted to him. She acts as his main caretaker, and thus she's the least outgoing of the Mage Sisters, because she stays home more often than the other two do as she takes more care of Hyness than they do.

Flamberge: This is rather complicated. Flamberge has many hang-ups with Hyness. Early on after HiAD, she was actually pretty uncomfortable around him and didn't have a lot of trust in him. She openly expressed this discomfort to him, and there were even a few instances where she angrily yelled at him because of the baggage over the things he did. However, things do get better later on. They eventually make amends. Flamberge does still care about Hyness as she slowly warms up to him again, but what happened has permanently affected her feelings about him. He completely understands and just feels absolutely horrible about it.

Francisca: Like Flamberge, Francisca also has hang-ups with Hyness, as she was also uncomfortable around him early on after HiAD. Although she hasn't been nearly as argumentative, nor as she ever yelled at him as her fiery sister did that for her, but she still made her hang-ups with him clear. That being said, they do make amends later on. Francisca is more or less on the same stance as her fiery sister when it comes to her feelings about Hyness, as she still cares about him but it's more complicated than before. He understands and doesn't blame her. He's heartbroken that he hurt her.

*Despite the hang-ups that Francisca and Flamberge have with Hyness, there are still moments where they hug him. There's also just some serious baggage involved, as his actions have permanently changed things.

To see Hyness' dynamics with Kirby and all the other dream friends in my verse, click on the 'Keep reading' tag down below. This post is already getting very long as is, so I'm gonna put a tag for you to click on in order to read the rest of it.

Hyness, in a general sense, has gratitude for everyone in the star allies team for saving him, although some of them still have uneasy opinions about him. Honestly, they were more happy about saving the Mage Sisters than they were about saving him.

Here's how he interacts with them individually:

Kirby: Kirby forgives every villain that stops their evil deeds, and Hyness is no exception. The pink puff is very happy to have saved his life and purified him back to his regular self. He considers Hyness to be a friend. And just like Kirby does with all of his friends, he visits him at the Jambandran Base on occasion. Hyness has unbridled gratitude for Kirby. Part of him feels like he didn't really deserve to be saved, but it makes him so emotional that this little guy went out of his way to save him anyways. Quite frankly, Kirby has made Hyness cry happy tears over this more than once. He can't thank him enough. He's hugely indebted to Kirby as a result.

King Dedede: One of the many star allies members that Hyness seldom crosses paths with after HiAD. During the rare instances they do meet, their interactions are polite, but Hyness makes Dedede very uncomfortable deep down. Watching the Mage Sisters get rag-dolled hit way too close to home for Dedede, as it reminded him that he could've done similar things to his waddle dees if Kirby didn't humble him. He's glad that Hyness is purified now, but he can't shake off the discomfort. He wishes him well, though, and vice versa.

Meta Knight: Meta Knight feels discomfort about Hyness for similar reasons as Dedede. He'd never treat his crewmates like what Hyness did to the Mage Sisters. Meta Knight doesn't often express being horrified, but he did so over the things Hyness did in his corruption. After HiAD, these two very seldom see each other, although they do mutually wish each other well.

Bandana Waddle Dee: Another one that Hyness very rarely sees after HiAD, and so there's not much of a relationship between these two. Bandee was terrified of Hyness back in his evil phase, and although he's glad the man is better now, he'd still prefer to keep a distance. Not much else to say here, really.

Magolor: One of the dream friends that Hyness actually sees sometimes outside of his super rare Popstar vacations! This is because Magolor, by virtue of being decent friends with the Mage Sisters, sometimes visits the Jambandran Base. He and Hyness get along very well, enough to even consider each other to be friends. They have informative talks about the Ancients, as well as ancient technology. Hyness thinks that Magolor is a bright-minded and humorous young man, always appreciating his company. Magolor thinks he's an interesting individual and forgives him for what he did.

Marx: Like Magolor, Marx also sometimes shows up at the Jambandran Base due to being good friends with the Mage Sisters, and thus he crosses paths with Hyness more often than many of the other dream friends do. He likes Hyness. They had some not-so-positive interactions early on after HiAD, though, when at one point Marx tried to provoke Hyness into performing another super-fast rant, to which Hyness then snapped and attacked him. They got along better after that, though. Nowadays, Marx just says things to make Hyness laugh. Hyness likes Marx and doesn't grudge about that one instance.

Taranza: Taranza is another one that visits the Jambandran Base sometimes because he's good friends with the Mage Sisters, and so he actually sees Hyness at not an infrequent rate! They're on good and amiable terms. It helps that Taranza is close friends with Zan, and considering his devotion to Sectonia is of similar levels to Zan's devotion of Hyness, Taranza can effectively see Sectonia in him. It makes him sympathize with him and is glad to see he's purified. Hyness really likes Taranza and thinks he's a nice young man.

Susie: Like the three right above her, Susie also sometimes visits the Jambandran Base because she's a close friend of the Mage Sisters, meaning that Hyness sees her more often than many other dream friends. They get along well, although Susie quietly felt awkward around him at first because she's very close friends with Francisca and they both have daddy issues. Susie stays out of the Jamba family's drama, though, and her awkwardness about Hyness reduces once Francisca works things out with him. Hyness likes Susie and is pleased that she's friends with his daughters, especially his icy one.

Gooey: Gooey generally stays in Popstar, and thus it's seldom for him and Hyness to see each other after HiAD. However, during the rare instances where they do meet, they actually get along very well. Gooey is very forgiving like Kirby is, and he likes Hyness! Hyness respects Gooey a lot after learning about his origins. He thinks he's a very sweet and fascinating little guy. He wishes he could see him more often than he does. Gooey would also like that.

Rick & Kine & Coo: They also generally stay in Popstar, and so they rarely ever see Hyness after HiAD. And while they're not grudge-holders, they still feel pretty uneasy about him after witnessing the things he did in front of them and the rest of the star allies team. They're glad he's at least better now and wish him the best, but yeah they barely have a relationship with him at all.

Daroach: Daroach actually visits the Jambandran Base on occasion, and so he and Hyness see each other every once in a while at least. They get along pretty well. Daroach steals from the Jambandran Base, but that doesn't actually upset Hyness. It would, but the Mage Sisters are actually thrilled when Daroach robs the place, because they enjoy chasing after him for it, and they like him. Hyness acknowledges they're all just having fun, and so he likes Daroach. Daroach likes him back and forgives him for what he did.

Adeleine: Adeleine rarely ever sees Hyness after HiAD, and honestly she's not bothered by that. She thought he was really scary during his corrupted phase, and although she's relieved that he's now better, she still considers him to be unnerving. She has no ill-will towards him, though. Not really much else to say for this one.

Ribbon: Another one that Hyness seldom sees after HiAD. That being said, Ribbon doesn't actually mind him now that he's purified, as she's generally braver than Adeleine. The rare instances where she and Hyness interact are generally amiable. There's still not much of a relationship here, though, due to how rarely they meet.

Dark Meta Knight: Even though DMK does have a friendship with Flamberge, he never visits the Jambandran Base as he's not up to travelling all the way there, and thus he and Hyness barely ever see each other again after HiAD. And honestly, DMK doesn't give a crud about Hyness, so he's not upset to hardly ever encounter him.

Nago, ChuChu, Pitch and Shadow Kirby have all also met Hyness during one of his once-every-blue-moon Popstar vacations. Can't say there's much going on there, really. They were all spooked when they learned he was the big villain during the adventure that Kirby and all the star allies partook in, and are glad he's not evil anymore, but other than that they hardly ever see him. Although Nago did let Hyness pet him during their first meet.

Hyness did go with the Mage Sisters to a vacation in the New World because he was curious to check out it, and so he did meet Elfilin, but not much there either aside from Elfilin thinking he's scary. Elfilin is not a fan of the Mage Sisters as he thinks they're scary, and their dad isn't any less scary. They almost never interact after their first meet, though. Doesn't help that Elfilin was informed by some of the dream friends about the events of Star Allies, freaking him the heck out upon learning about Hyness' actions.

That's basically it for this post. As you can see, a lot of the dream friends barely see Hyness again after he's been purified, and truthfully he's still rather controversial in the general opinion of the team. They were all utterly horrified by what he did in his evil phase, and although they're all ultimately glad he's better now, many of them still have uneasy opinions about him.

Thanks for reading if you did.

[multi-oc-tourney]

Free For All: ROUND 1

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Andrea

(She/they/it)

oc by: @mizuthe-cat

Propaganda:

Andrea used to be a human who separated from her body when she slept, taking the form of a shadowy rabbit. She used this power to her advantage during The Fall, an event equivalent to a zombie apocalypse. She ended up joining a secure group as one of their few doctors and reuniting with her girlfriend. She ended up dying of old age but due to her being a shadow rabbit she stayed stuck unable to move on.

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Zemin

(she/he)

oc by: @tibialtybalt

Propaganda:

A knight that was one of three chosen to champion the gods! - (name pronounced zeh-MEEN) - joy and whimsy in his heart - a tried and true wife guy - tends to find the meanest people around and scoop them up into her friend group. A chill big dog surrounded by hissing cats - lost her hand at the end of her god quest - thought that she would be fine with that - getting hurt is part of her area of expertise ! She can handle it ^^ - then he realized that he wouldn't be IN his area of expertise anymore bc he can't wield a sword anymore - oh my god I don't know who I am if I'm not a knight OH GODDDD

[hexbians]

Okay so hear me out. Bizarre Jayvik au…

Subnautica. (Spoilers for both the game and Arcane season 2)

Piltover is kind of the equivalent of Alterra, big greedy-for-progress science corporation that runs a lot of earth and intergalactic travel and junk. (Other nations of runeterra are probably like- competing corporations idk.)

Jayce and Viktor are renowned research partners who contributed a lot of scientific knowledge to the invention of the phase gates (space hexgates) and they’re sent on the Aurora to go scope out planet 4546B. It’s their first field mission they’ve done together. Viktor did some private missions on his own through Singed before he got scouted into Piltover by Heimerdinger, and Jayce and his mother used to live on a colony planet before a natural disaster drove them out and he’s done lots of separate missions once he’d joined Piltover, but they’ve never gotten to run their research on a planet together before. It’s a very exciting prospect.

What they aren’t expecting is for the ship to get shot down by a mysterious alien canon and to crash land on 4546B. They get separated due to a tear in the ship and have to take separate lifepods to escape. Viktor lands in the reefy shallows (where the player lands in the game), while Jayce’s pod winds up landing on the floating island because he’s a lucky fucking duck. Viktor’s resourceful as hell, though, so as soon as he’s able to scrap together a seaglide, his leg isn’t much of an issue.

The plot details are a bit fuzzy, but eventually they do reunite, Jayce has got a whole garden going on the island, Viktor’s gathered tons of resources and has a pretty solid base, and they both are slowly learning more and more about not only the intelligent lives who once inhabited this planet, but also Piltover’s corruption and dubious plans for the planet. (Cue environmentalism win as Jayce and Viktor plot to stop them) also they both get sick and do the whole sea empress cure plot.

The plot definitely bleeds into Below Zero because I want something to set them apart, like maybe Jayce thinks they can go change Piltover for the better, but Viktor recognizes their corruption for what it is and leaves Jayce. Also he definitely gets severely injured either before or after that and Jayce revives him using the decoded research of the aliens who once lived there, and utilizes their tech, and can you IMAGINE Machine Herald but alien? The hexclaw being one of Al-An’s cool levitating arms? And Jayce going lowkey feral and being like Maida with the battle suit and pet snow stalker?

They make amends at some point, cure the virus once and for all in the big old iced leviathan, and stay on the planet together, warding away visitors who might harm it.

Anyway alien machine herald and feral Jayce with his massive dog and maybe Viktor finds a Rio-adjacent critter friend as well? I need it. They guard 4546B and Viktor lowkey formed that mental connection with Jayce like Al-An so they can mind text. They’re also husbands. Win for environmentalism AND the gays.

That’s all, I’m sleep-deprived at an airport, the end.

[bloodycyrano]

I come bearing dragon age trivia and headcannons for this spooky season!

So, the equivalent of Halloween in the realm of Thedas would probably be "All souls day", or "Funalis"

It was named Funalis originally, and dedicated to the old god, Dumat, God of silence. Yet, when Dumat fell victim to the blight and rose as the first archdemon, the vast majority turned a blind eye to any remainder of what it once was for the old god. Thus renaming it "All Soul's Day", to be celebrated as a day in somber remembrance of the dead.

In northern parts of Thedas, All Soul's Day is spent dressed as spirits for parades after dark. And the Chantry uses the day to honor the death of Andraste, with public fires that mark her own burning, and plays that depict her death.- Creepy.

Now for the headcannons.

Zevran- Zev is from Antiva, which is up north. I have full confidence that our favorite assassin dresses in full costume on All Soul's Day and tries to start drinking games with the rest of the party.

Alistair- He.. takes time to himself. He's quieter than usual, and you realize why when you find him at the edge of camp. He's having a drink by the river and practically cradling Duncan's blade. He's carved the names of the Wardens lost at Ostagar into a tree. He pours one out for his fallen friends and spends the rest of the day trying to crack jokes like usual - but you can tell he's just thinking about the battle again.

- Zevran takes extra care to try and cheer up Alistair. Perhaps begrudgingly; it works.

Oghren- takes any and all opportunities to get drunk. He's interested somewhat in learning about the Parades in Antiva and Orlais and such, but mostly just because "Whatever it is the elf is doing" looks fun. I do believe he'd take the time to sit and think about Branka.. She was his wife, and he did care for her all things considered.

Sten- the Qunari prayers for the dead. He's quiet, he's by himself. He doesn't speak a word to anyone, but if you get close enough when he doesn't realize you're there, you can hear him praying. He looks sad, beneath the stoic exterior. But there is solace in his practice all the same.

Leliana- She has her prayers for her mother and for Andraste, but she's also fairly lighthearted about things. She probably wears a mask for the occasion, and is more than happy to tell tales and sing songs about the holiday. She will take time on her own, however. To pray and pick her mother's flowers.. Andrastes Grace.

Wynne- Wynne prays. She's probably fairly quiet, all things considered. She wonders when she'll finally pass.. If the spirit will leave her on a day like this one. She isn't afraid, but she is.. contemplative. She likes to observe the practices of everyone else on the holiday, quietly from her own tent. Perhaps she judges quietly, but she also finds amusement from some of the antics from Zevran, and Oghren. She's even delighted to find that Alistair is able to cheer up a bit.

Morrigan- She isn't going to be bothered with odd practices from her odd party members. Morrigan finds the culture to be interesting, but aside from that, she sees no need for strange beliefs. She doesn't care for Leliana's tales or songs of Andraste, and she certainly isn't going to dress up. This being said, she does secretly enjoy watching and observing from her tent, off at the edge of camp. She probably goes off on her own for some sort of magical practice, or even changes shape to frolic in the woods with the spirits.

Shayle- Shayle doesn't know what to do with the holiday.. But they have a list of names. Names from the Cadash thaig, and bitter memories of being reunited with Caridin. They think they will pray for Caridin, and maybe even the family they do not remember.

The warden- My warden is Dalish.. I believe she covered her mirror with a black cloth and got up early that morning to hunt. She doesn't like using bows, but Tamlen always did. He insisted upon it, even. And with his absence, she still felt the pull to do so. Who was she to argue with a spirit? She felt a particular guilt this time, knowing what he had become. Knowing she might've been able to save him. But the show must go on, and the mask must remain. She doesn't let the others see her suffer. Instead, she pushes herself to partake in whatever her companions wish of her. The only one who seems to see past it is Sten, but he will not disrespect her by calling attention to it. What would the need be, anyways? And he has his own prayers to attend to.

- When given the opportunity, the warden dresses up as the archdemon.. Perhaps in poor taste.

Barkspawn- The best pupper has a costume. Barkspawn has been dressed up as a Griffon! He tried to eat the fake beak..

[jkj-digital]

Saw your reblog and mate if you got queer visual novel recs I got spare time that needs eating.

If you´ve come for gay furry visual novels, this is certainly a place with recommendations

Assume NSFW, Unfinished, and free unless otherwise specified

Adastra – get kidnapped by handsome space wolf and become involved in political shenanigans. The one that least needs an introduction – COMPLETE!

Astatos – A pair of mages (kind of) lose their home, summon a god and a devil, and help solve various political issues using card game mechanics. The queerness of this one is pretty heavily constrained to subtext, but there’s no doubt that all major characters are hot men in various states of undress – PAID, SFW

Chardonnay Romancia – Innkeeper who hates heroes discovers an amnesiac hero who quickly becomes obsessed with him, among many other subplots. The characters find themselves in many explicit scenarios, often enough against their will – PAID

Deers and Deckards – As a college student, get into a relationship with either your best friend, his dad, or both. Also, at some point the game decides it becomes tired of its light-hearted tone and takes a dip into a more supernatural setting. Currently, only the polygamy route is complete.

Demons Within – You play a demon of lust influencing the emotions of a soldier and those around him, attempting to assist your host while also growing your own power and keeping them ignorant of your existence.

Devil’s Gambit – A doctor reunites with an old friend, uncovering a supernatural mystery and kicking off a strange romance.

Glory Hounds – A young man finds himself with an unexpected employment opportunity: becoming a sidekick to a superhero.

The Human Heart – Wake up as the only human in a familiar world and find yourself adopted by a colorful group of friends – SFW

In Case of Emergency – Find yourself as the last of the chosen ones in gay furry Narnia and awkwardly ingratiate yourself into the longstanding group of heroes – COMPLETE!

Kingsguard – When things go to hell at your royal birthday how will you reclaim your throne from the magical forces trying to take it from you and, more importantly, which of your kingsguard will you fall in love with

Minotaur Hotel – Discover the true story of (and also fall in love with) the Minotaur of legends and turn his crumbling home into a home for the lost. Even among visual novels, this one is a slow burn, but it’s absolutely worth it

My Pirate Husbandos – Get rescued from drowning at sea by a crew of rowdy, and very gay, pirates, and help them until you earn yourself a place among their ranks

Nekojishi – Become forced to face an uncertain future when you suddenly awaken the ability to see spirits and find yourself fought over by three handsome cat men who each want you to become the priest of their shrine (or equivalent) – SFW, COMPLETE!

Orveia – Awaken in an unfamiliar and horny world along with your best friend (who somehow arrived about a decade before you did) and several handsome men to become an adventurer. This game contain heavy RPG mechanics

Pervader – Discover your kindly DILF of an employer is a wizard and get infected with “becomes a wizard” disease along with the heir to an order of knights whose primary goal is to stamp out all magic

Shelter – Become enraptured in a strange world of medieval fantasy dogs, and protect your home in a world that wants to take that away from you

The Smoke Room – Learn to trust again in the wild west in 1915 after a man you though loved you tried to kill you, while the world itself seems to want to drown you in your guilt

Temptation´s Ballad – A young rogue trying to live up to his father, a commoner with an obsession with adventuring, and a sheltered chosen one looking to broaden their horizons form an adventuring party by happenstance and find themselves with a quest far larger than any of them believed

[that-one-i-think]

vylad in the hunger games :3

Okay, so this will play into some of my semi-existing AU but I will do both how I believe he would be as a victor and within my existing crackship Au cause why not.

Tribute and Victor Vylad

In this, the Ro'Meaves are the Snow family with O'khasis and the capital being one in the same. Vylad is still a bastard but is actually the product of Zianna reuniting with an old covey friend during one of Garte's bout of game obsession. Garte found out about the pregnancy very early but too late for a safe abortion, so they worked very hard to hide the pregnancy and once Vylad was born, he was sent off to live with his father Visher in district 12(Phoenix Drop). (Zianna and Garte will be the equivalent to Snow and Lucy, except Snow was able to keep his bird caged)

From there, Zianna and Garte struck a deal, Vylad wouldn't be reaped and they will never talk about him again nor were Zianna to ever contact Visher or Vylad again. Zianna breaks that promise when Vylad is 13 after receiving news that he is sick and unfortunately, Garte does find out and the very next reaping, Vylad, now 14 is chosen. This breaks Zianna, truly breaks the woman leaving Garroth (17) and Zane(16) to pick up the pieces.

Garte will do everything in his power to make sure Vylad doesn't make it through the games while also ensuring to prolong his suffering. He will ensure that Vylad makes it surprisingly long before sending everything at the boy, from sandstorms, to toxic plants, to finding subtle ways to alert the other tributes to his location. Realistically, Vylad would not survive the hunger games, but sometimes life doesn't fit reality.

Vylad would survive due to being able to out manuver every single person on the map and this will be due to the fact that Visher had been training him since he was young, for the man never believed that Garte would let his biggest shame live. Vylad is an archer by trade, using the dense forest and rocky plains of this arena to his advatage, hiding and picking people off one by one. It would result in a final stand off between Vylad and one other tribute, most likely one from a career district. Vylad would rule them up the mountain, one that has been specifically designed to cause avalanches and cave ins for any district 12 member looking for safety within familiar stones. Using the system designed to specifically kill him, Vylad would leap out of the way of falling rocks just in time for the career to be crushed in turn, thus winning him the game.

Vylad's win would be extremely unexpected, as it will be the first win for District 12/Phoenix Drop in a loooong time, but one of the first victories for one so young, only 14. That would create a spectacle that Garte will be completely unable to quell as he is labeled a 'prodigy'. Between being a bastard and a covey, Garte looses the battle of wills against Zianna and it isn't before long that every capital event Garte attends he sees the boy playing the ocarina and enchanting those of the capital.

Despite the win, Vylad himself will never truly be okay after, in fact he actually becomes selectively mute, which is why he chooses to play the ocarina. A distraction that allows him to not have to speak but still be entertainment, still be useful. He will also have an incredibly difficult time going back to District 12, as the arena had been specifically designed to lure him into a false sense of security as to pick him off. The only true good thing about it is occasionally being in the same room as his mother, and though they will never be able to talk, it is enough for them, truly enough.

Within My Au :]

Within my existing AU, the same thing as previous happens except Zianna wasn't able to hide the pregnancy from the capital. In order to prevent scandal, Garte let Zianna keep the baby and claim that Zianna's grandmother had green eyes and brown hair. Vylad and Zianna unfortunately die due to an "accidental" generator explosion while the family was opening a new weapon manufacturing plant in District 2 (Falconclaw), which buries them under the rumble making their bodies impossible to find.

In actuality, they had been taken into Canada/Enchanted forest where they will remain with Hyria, until Vylad is lured in to join District 13 (Nether ish, it's complicated).

That's all I have for right now but if you want any specific ships for him, I will fully be willing to make a part 2! Just gotta ask!

[burningcheese-merchant]

Ok fuck it. Fuck it I need to rant. I'm disappointed to the high heavens. This just looks like X and Y again. It just looks like they finally bothered to get off their asses and make Pokémon Z like everyone begged for 10+ years ago and they're trying to relabel it as a Legends game. You know what the word "legend" means? It means OLD!!! It's a fantastical tale of days long past! PAST! NOT FUTURE! Why are we in the future!!! There are no legends about the damn future, only the past!!!

How cool would it have been if we were in the Pokémon equivalent of Napoleonic France? If the protagonist was from a lower-middle-class family (maybe even lower, a genuinely struggling protagonist would be interesting, especially within this time period), who set out with their Pokémon to earn money to help out, only to end up caught in the middle of a nationwide shitstorm? What if you ventured throughout the region, through the beaches and mountains and beautiful French/Kalosian countryside, all the way to Paris/Lumiose, where the societal rot is at its most obvious and damning? What if the "evil team" wasn't evil at first, just a band of revolutionaries with their hearts in the right place, seeking change and justice for the broke and starving public against the laziness and corruption of the self-absorbed elite? What if the villain was the king at first, because he and the other royals really are as awful as they're stated to be? What if there were (optional, because not everyone was against the French monarchy) side quests to help spread revolutionary propaganda or help the rebels earn money, gather resources, toughen up their Pokémon in preparation for future battles against the royals? Hell, what if there was a rival group of royalists who acted as the rebels' foil, whom you can also help and hinder as much or as little as you liked?

What if there was an honest-to-God violent coup where people and Pokémon stormed the royal palace and destroy everything in sight (and you could be there, battling guards or something)? What if the king was challenged to a battle and lost miserably, proving once and for all how weak and pathetic he is, and thus overthrown and exiled (can't execute him, this franchise is too cowardly to evolve past being milquetoast kiddie shit)? What if the rebel leader, with his dear Empoleon beside him, took his place and crowned himself emperor right then and there, to the overwhelming joy of his followers and sympathizers, dismay of his opponents, and whatever it is the player chooses to feel, because there should be a genuine undercurrent of historical, political and philosophical discussion about all of this throughout the story that encourages us to form our own thoughts and opinions about the situation?

Only for the rebel leader, the Napoleon figure, to turn out worse than the king ever was, and his close subordinates immediately going mad with their newfound power and practically destroying the country. Then they really ARE the evil team for real this time, because they became the tyrants they sought to destroy, and depending on the player's past actions, it might partially be their fault that they succeeded. Imagine the Pokémon equivalent of the fucking Reign of Terror. People and Pokémon being attacked, imprisoned, exiled (again, they're too chickenshit to kill people. Tens of thousands died during the REAL Reign of Terror). Imagine your new mission going from trying to flee Lumiose and go home (only to fail, because they won't let anyone leave outside of being formally exiled out of fear/paranoia about uncontrolled dissidents) to taking an active role against the new regime, battling police to bust innocents out of jail, reuniting families and friends torn apart by fear and force? Imagine a heated battle against the stand-in for Maximilien Robespierre to help put an end to the madness!!! What if you went to libraries and picked up newspapers and listened to the telegraph and discovered everything has been censored in some way? What if you went into houses and found depressed wives and mothers and sisters and daughters, and opened letters from the men in their families (and their Pokémon, too) who were conscripted into the Kalosian army because the Emperor is trying to wage wars against neighboring regions to fulfill territorial ambitions (which actually did happen, Napoleon's France was constantly at war, which majorly tanked the economy because all the men were sent off to die or be horrifically injured. Remember when they tried to invade Russia? Over half a million troops went, barely 1/6 of them came back)? The climax of the story + defeat of the Emperor in battle can be a nod to the Battle of Waterloo!!! The post-game can have the player looking for runaway rebels like how you hunted for the Sages in post-game Black and White! What if there was a limited time mystery gift event where you could win a ferry ticket to the island the former Emperor is imprisoned on, JUST LIKE THE ACTUAL NAPOLEON, and there was a final cutscene between you and him where you discuss everything that happened and he asserts that he did what he had to and he still believes that he was acting in Kalos's best interest!!! Because many of the revolutionaries really did think that way, they believed they were doing right by France!!! Even when they jailed and murdered thousands of innocent people!!!

But no, we don't get cool shit like that, we get AZ running a fucking inn for whatever reason and an "urban redevelopment plan" that's literally just "let the Pokémon trash half the city with zero repercussions or any consideration for the homes and businesses in the areas they overrun". What the fuck man

[bberry005]

no one makes a long complex au like someone procrastinating on writing thousands of words in final papers i guess!! so here's some concept art for an mha star wars au i've been thinking up

this is like such a new au and still in progress but i have a solid story idea and some designs for a lot of the characters. i love star wars and mha so so much so mixing the two together was honestly inevitable. lore dump about these characters below the cut because it's really long and lowkey really star wars lore heavy LOL. if anyone has questions i'm happy to answer but like a true star wars fan i'm a hater and there's a lot of things i don't know

The galaxy is deep into the Paranormal Liberation War (which is basically a clone wars equivalent for this au). As the war becomes more and more widespread, the isolated planet of Mandalore starts to come under threat as the mysterious All For One realizes he can exploit the current political turmoil on Mandalore for this own gain. He allies with an elusive figured named Overhaul, the leader of the terrorist group Death Watch that seeks to return Mandalore to the old ways.

Enter Shinsou and Aizawa. The pair are both members of the Death Watch, but once the war reaches Mandalore and Overhaul stages his takeover, they realize that this isn't what they want. The pair remain members of the Death Watch, but they have their own motives. While most in the system believe that the heir to Mandalore was executed during the takeover, Shinsou and Aizawa aren't quite sure. Their goal is to find Monoma Neito, the heir to the throne of Mandalore and potentially their only hope at restoring peace to the planet. But before they're able to put their plan in motion, civil war explodes on Mandalore between the PLF backed Death Watch and a Republic backed fighting force led by another group of Mandalorians vying for power on the planet. During this battle, Shinsou and Aizawa face down Overhaul and manage to escape, but not unscathed. Aizawa lost his eye and his leg, and Shinsou lost a few of the fingers on his left hand. The pair go into hiding, desperately hopping from planet to planet and searching for real medical attention. Eventually they land on Pantora and meet Uraraka Ochako, a Jedi girl around Shinsou's age (which would be like 15/16 ish) who escaped Order 66 and started running a smuggling operation on Pantora that focuses on relocating enemies of the Empire to new places around the galaxy. Uraraka recently reunited with two of her closest friends from before Order 66, Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto. Together, the group forms a little rebel cell that eventually attracts the attention of a high ranking official on Coruscant, Admiral Tsukauchi. He recruits the team into his budding rebellion against the Empire.

Fast forwards to about ten years after Order 66 went out (so that makes shinsou and the other characters his age about 25/26 now). The Rebellion is still very small and relatively unorganized and less focused on fighting and more focused on other initiatives (think middle of rebels era rebellion). Shinsou managed to get permission to go to Concord Dawn and scope out what's happening in the Mandalore system, where he runs into the long lost heir to the throne, Monoma Neito. But Monoma isn't alone. With him is a teenage girl named Eri that Shinsou and Aizawa helped free from Overhaul's control years ago. She got adopted by the royal family and escaped with Monoma in the aftermath of the Imperial takeover. After some convincing, Shinsou manages to get Monoma and Eri to come with him and meet Aizawa and hopes they can put their plan to free Mandalore in motion sooner rather than later.

However, things get complicated when Monoma finds out that Shinsou has the Darksaber. Shinsou didn't find it on purpose, in fact he'd probably get rid of it if he didn't know how important finding it was to his people. Monoma wants Shinsou to use the Darksaber to unite Mandalore. The person who posesses the Darksaber has a lot of sway with all Mandalorians, but especially the ones in House Chisaki, or the clans that make up the Death Watch since the sword originally belonged to a member of their house (think the role House Vizsla plays in Star Wars. They're the ones in charge but there's other clans within the house, like how Clan Wren is within House Vizsla). If Shinsou were to return to Mandalore with the Darksaber, he could unite all the clans against the Empire and give them a fighting chance. But Shinsou doesn't want the responsibility, instead wanting to stand back and be a knight in (somewhat) shining armor instead of the new leader of Mandalore.

Monoma and Eri have been on the run since the fall of Mandalore. They hopped from planet to planet to avoid detection since the Empire has a hit out for them since they're the next in line for Mandalore and finding them is the fastest way to get stronger control over the population. Monoma wants to go back to Mandalore and free his people, but he doesn't know if he's capable of the acts required. He was raised to rule Mandalore and the surrounding planets, but he was also raised in the pacifist ideas his mother had and he wants to continue them. He's having like a really strong ideological crisis that Shinsou thinks is stupid at first but then understands because character growth and friendship and falling in love. Monoma wants to force the responsibility of saving Mandalore onto Shinsou and Aizawa, but he also knows he needs to play a role despite the fact it might not be the one he originally wanted it to be. He has some other goals too, like finding his friends Kendo and Tetsutetsu (and the rest of the 1-B students) where they're scattered throughout the galaxy.

Throughout all of this craziness in their story, there's also a lot of other stuff going on with the Rebellion and the Empire and the fact the two of them are getting A LOT closer to each other than either of them ever wanted to.

Shinsou's entire story throughout the AU is reckoning with the fact he is the one who must unite Mandalore, not Monoma. Monoma's story is related to somewhat accepting he can't force Shinsou to have this responsibility because subconsiously he doesn't want it either. There's a lot of other details and stuff going on that has to do with personal character arcs and Mandalorian politics and uh...the Rebellion and the Empire, but this is the gist of it. okay that's all for this info dump. more lore dumps to come and we'll see if the fic itself happens or just ends up being a series of drawings.

[calebly]

Starry Night

Pairing: Tyril x f!human!MC (Reyna) Book: Blades of Light and Shadow 2, chapter 3 Word count: 4000 Rating: T Warnings: emotional hurt Category: hurt/comfort Synopsis: Having reunited with most of her party, Reyna discovers the true extent of the traumatic events of the previous months. A/n: special thanks to @starlight-starfury for encouraging me to include Tyril speaking elven 🫰🏻 × Calanín - my light: elven word of affection, the elven equivalent of the Common language's "my love;" the elves believe that love is often fleeting, but the Light is constant, and the most precious resource they possess. Tag list: @starlight-starfury @cashweasel @watatsumi-island @lilyoffandoms @sophie-summer @lazypartridge @brycesgirl @agattthaa @secret-fungi @megas-choices (if anyone wishes to be added/removed pls let me know!) @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Nia, Mal, and the children had developed a routine, thanks to which the kids changed into their pyjamas, brushed their teeth, and were tucked in under thirty minutes. If one would take Nia at her word, developing the schedule took weeks, but due to eager cooperation the group managed to reduce the time from two hours to just thirty minutes, saving the guardians a considerable amount of time—time that they would spend reading, searching, and discussing the possible methods of rescuing Reyna. After ten minutes, Nia and Mal returned downstairs, having wished the kids a good night and slumped in the chairs, exhausted. Soon, the giggles and banter upstairs quietened down, and Mal breathed out a sigh of relief while Nia smiled at her friends, her features softened by the warm candlelight. 

“Can I offer you anything? Water, tea? We don’t have much, but I’d love to host you properly,” the Priestess chirped, already rising from her seat, but Tyril held out his hand to stop her. 

“It’s alright, thank you, Nia. Save what you have for the children.”

Nia nodded, while the elf rested his left hand on Reyna’s thigh, gently squeezing it in a poorly disguised display of affection. Her lips curved in a soft smile, and she vaguely covered his hand with her own before addressing the rogue before her.

“Lord Weasley of Riverbend, huh?” 

Mal smiled sheepishly and scratched his neck, blushing faintly as if he had been caught in a lie. “I had to improvise, and Riverbend just happened to occupy my mind an awful lot lately.”

“Gotta admit, you really nailed the accent. If I hadn’t known better, I’d think you were a native,” she winked, drawing a laugh from Mal.

“What can I say? I had spent an awful lot of time with you, kit.”

Nia joined the conversation. “How is Kade? I’ve been meaning to visit him, but there was always something urgent to attend to, and…”

“He’s doing just fine, cooped up in the library or in the royal gardens with Loola and Threep. He’s made the Master Librarian his archenemy, though.”

The Priestess chuckled. As Mal rested his arm on the back of her seat, a quiet yawn escaped Reyna’s lips and her eyes watered uncontrollably. She rested her head against Tyril’s shoulder, continuing to smile at her friends. Although she did not feel the true length of her absence, she had missed them, and at that moment she felt at peace. 

The idyllic atmosphere was disrupted by a quiet childish giggle coming from the top of the stairs, and the group's heads turned simultaneously in that direction. Mal sighed exhaustedly and rubbed his tired eyes before addressing the children.

“Guys, we talked about staying up past bedtime!”

The grave silence that followed his remark was soon interrupted by barefoot steps and the creaking of the old wooden floor. A frail, pale blonde girl stood next to Mal and whispered in his ear, her big eyes glued to Reyna. In response, Mal smiled at the child and nodded. “Do you want me to introduce you?”

The girl nodded her head excitedly, and he addressed his friend. 

“Kit, this is Nyra, she's a big fan of yours.” 

Reyna's brows furrowed. "Fan?"

“Mal and Nia often told us stories of your adventures! My favourite is the one when you ran after Duchess Xenia and fought her! I want to be as brave as you when I grow up!” the girl chattered reedily. “Can I ask you a question?”

"Ask away, Nyra," she sent the girl an encouraging smile, squeezing Tyril's hand under the table. 

"Weren't you afraid?"

"I'd be crazy not to be afraid,” she smiled. “Bravery isn't about not being afraid, it's about doing the right thing despite fear."

The girl nodded, drinking the words off Reyna’s lips, staring at her heroine in awe. 

“Now go to sleep, Nyra,” Mal rubbed the girl’s arm, softly pushing her towards the stairs. Before disappearing in the darkness, Nyra waved at the couple, and Reyna sighed.

“Said like a true hero,” Nia concluded while the men agreed silently. 

“It’s good to see you, guys. I just wish Imtura was with us.”

“We’ll find her, don’t fret, Rey-Rey,�� Mal assured. The nickname made Reyna groan.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“How about Rey of Sunshine?”

Reyna glowered at him. “Mal, I’m warning you.”

“Reiny?”

“Oh, I like Rey!” Nia joined in the conversation, grinning. 

“What do you think of “Reine”? I think it suits your personality,” the thief continued. “What do you think, elf boy?”

Tyril, smiling softly at the course the conversation took, looked to his left at his partner, his eyes glistening with the reflection of a nearby candlelight. “I believe my answer falls under a public display of affection.”

Nia brightened up. “Aw! It’s so nice seeing you two together again. Tyril had been so miserable without you, Reyna.”

“Tyril, my man, I’d like to remind you that we were direct neighbours at the Palace and their walls are surprisingly thin, so you really shouldn’t be em—”

Tyril cut in, blushing. “Stop talking.”

Grinning, the rogue continued teasing, pointing to Reyna with a nod of his head, while Nia and Tyril grew considerably more abashed. “I see you already had a chance to celebrate.”

Reyna touched her neck, remembering the necklace of red love bites that her lover bestowed upon her the previous night, and bit her lip, slightly embarrassed. She forgot to cover the bruises in the morning as she was in a hurry. The Priestess intervened.

“Stop teasing them, Mal. They’re young and in love, of course they celebrated their reunion.”

In love. The couple looked away, uncomfortable with the subject, but Nia continued, oblivious to their discomfort.

“I’ve been meaning to ask before—” she bit her tongue, cleared her throat, and continued. “Who said it first? Was it romantic? I bet it was! Tyril always had a way with words and—”

“Oh, Priestess, read the room!” Mal chuckled. The redhead’s smile faltered as she raised her eyebrows in question, tilting her head slightly. The rogue explained. “Look at them! Elf boy’s about to turn dark purple, they obviously haven’t said that yet.”

Nia’s lips shaped into the letter “o” as the realisation dawned on her, but before she had a chance to apologise, Reyna intervened. “Alright! It was great to see you, but we should go. It’s getting late, and we need to rest.”

“True,” Mal agreed. “No offence, but you look terrible, lordling.”

“It takes one to know one, thief.”

“You don’t like my haircut? You wound me,” with feigned offence, Mal placed a hand over his heart, making Tyril roll his eyes. Reyna smiled at the exchange, but agreed with Tyril. Mal looked exhausted, the dark spots under his eyes and slouched posture explicit evidence of that. “Let me walk you to the door.”

Hugging Reyna goodbye, Nia whispered, squeezing her eyelids tight. “Please, don’t disappear again.”

Reyna rubbed her friend’s back reassuringly before moving away from the warm embrace. “I’ll do my best.”

“Your disappearance wreaked havoc, kit,” Mal admitted quietly, patting her back. “I know it may look like we just moved on, but there wasn’t a day Nia didn’t stay up late sifting through the Temple’s scrolls in search of rescue. Whenever I got a promising lead, it turned out to be just an urban legend. We—” his voice broke. In no hurry, Mal took a deep breath and moved away, his hands resting on Reyna’s shoulders. “We really tried, kit. I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.”

Reyna smiled comfortingly. “Don’t beat yourself up, Mal. I’m here, in one piece, am I not?”

He smiled. “I suppose.”

“Thank you for trying.”

Unpersuaded by her assurance, Mal nodded weakly, and before the couple took their leave, he patted Tyril’s arm. “Don’t let her out of your sight. See you in the morning.”

Strolling through the streets of the capital, slowly climbing towards the Whitetower castle, Tyril and Reyna grudgingly discussed the following day’s plan, in the meantime looking around for a seamstress. Despite the late hour, one of the very last vendors was still folding clothes in the town square, and being in desperate need of a more appropriate gear, Reyna left Tyril waiting outside. Patiently pacing around the ornate fountain, the elf studied a nearby florist when his gaze stopped at a bouquet of familiar flowers in the man’s hands. It took a bit of haggling and bragging about his title for Tyril to purchase the flowers imported from his homeland—black-petaled frilly sunflowers with luminescent red stamen—but he purchased them, and he could not suppress the proud smile on his face when Reyna emerged from the building with a paper package in her hands. He handed her the gift wordlessly.

“Oh! What’s the occasion?” 

“There is no occasion. These flowers are native to Undermount, we call them melissë anar’insil. They were my mother’s favourite, she grew them in our garden, and…” he bit his lip, blushing slightly. “And they remind me of you.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said quietly, awestruck. “Thank you, Tyril. But you shouldn't have, they look like they have cost a fortune."

"There's a possibility that the saviour got a discount."

A hearty laugh escaped her lips upon hearing the word saviour yet another time the same day. "Admit it, you like being the hero."

Tyril bit his lip, trying to contain his smile. "I suppose the title carries some benefits."

Chuckling, she climbed on the tip of her toes and pressed her lips to his for a short, sweet kiss. She could still faintly taste the sour lime lemonade with mint on his lips, the drink he claimed his favourite, the memory bringing a smile to her face. She thought of their first, and at the same time last, date—the day they partook in festival activities, roamed the streets of Whitetower holding hands, made love in a secluded tower, and ended up intoxicating themselves at a local tavern with Riverbendian drinks. As if reading her mind, Tyril’s lips curved in a knowing smile.

“Does the name of the flower mean anything in Common?” she asked, interlacing their fingers. Resuming their lazy stroll back to the castle, the elf nodded, yet he took his time with the answer, eventually smiling sheepishly. 

“It translates to ‘the lovers’ sunflower.’ These sunflowers are considered the flower of royalty in Undermount as due to their rarity only the wealthiest can afford them, and they symbolise devotion, loyalty, and adoration.”

Nodding, Reyna brought the bouquet closer to her face and took a deep breath. The smell was sweet but not overpowering, reminding her of the first days of summer, and the exact smell of Tyril’s bedchamber in Undermount. She remembered walking out to the balcony when he fell asleep and seeing the luminescent stamen in the darkness, thinking how otherworldly they made the garden look. 

“I can see why these were your mother’s favourites.”

“Their appearance is but a fraction of the reason for her admiration. Mother adored them because father asked for her hand in marriage with half a dozen bouquets of these flowers and had showered her with grandiose bouquets ever since on the most important occasions. She always said it’s a perfect addition to any confessions and talked very fondly of the day Adrina was born as father had the Manor’s ballroom filled with flowers,” Tyril reminisced, his gaze distant but a smile was playing on his lips.  

“I’d love to hear more about your mom, she sounds like a very kind soul.”

Tyril nodded. “She was. However, that is a story for another day. We should hurry, it will rain soon.”

The moment Tyril locked their chamber's door, the toller announced the clock struck eleven and Reyna plopped down on the mattress exhausted. 

"You don't have to buy me flowers if you want to propose, I'm a simple girl, Tyril," she teased, yawning. The elf flushed purple, realising how inauspiciously he crafted his words back in the town square, and smiled at her. "Duly noted."

"And if you want to fool around, just stay the word," she winked, unlacing the corset of her dress. "Not today, though, I'm dead on my feet."

"Ever the romantic," he smiled. As he helped her out of her clothes and into a loose nightgown, Tyril made sure she was tightly tucked in, and soon joined her, stroking her back until she fell asleep.  

People have a saying, one that Tyril overheard while patrolling the streets of Port Parnassus, just minutes before he first bumped into Reyna. They say that what does not kill will make you stronger, and during the year she was gone he prayed it was true. He hoped all this suffering was not in vain.

Yet now she was here with him and he felt everything but stronger. He felt weak, broken, undeserving. He couldn't protect her. It should've happened to him. 

He hadn't slept the night before—after he lulled his beloved to sleep, he stayed guard in case of the worst. It gave him plenty of time to look at her, admire the features that he had prayed to see again, to assess the damage she had suffered at the hands of… Of who exactly? She didn't want to talk about it, and he didn't push her. Overwhelming her was the very last thing he wanted to make her feel so soon after returning; alas, because of that choice, his imagination was running wild. His mind was painting the pictures of Reyna running through the obsidian desert, fighting the remaining Shadow soldiers, battered, aghast, and disappointed she had to save herself because the people closest to her had failed. 

Studying the fresh horizontal scar on her inner arm, Tyril ventured into a dangerous territory of fear-fueled theories as to what lay ahead. The Shadow Realm was an unexplored area, where unlike Morella they were on a hiding to nothing. Tyril did not doubt the loyalty and capability of their group, but they managed to win the fight against the Dreadlord by a stroke of fortune—had it not been for the Priestess’ sacrifice, the party would have lost at least two members, himself included. If the new enemy was indeed a competition to the Shadow Court, they needed allies. 

Tyril noticed that upon her return, Reyna not only possessed new wounds and scars, but also lacked that mesmerising glint in her eye, her movements were slower, and body weaker, not to any sudden or loud noises paralysed her with fear. Reyna came back different. Tyril would even risk saying that it was not Reyna who came back. Not the one he knew. It was someone new entirely.

The woman next to him took in a shuddering breath, her fingers gripping the duvet tightly. Restless even in her sleep, Reyna was indisputably facing the consequences of living through numerous traumatic events within a short time period without respite. Reaching forward, Tyril smoothed out the worried crease between her brows with his thumb, deluding himself that with this simple gesture he was able to transfer all her worries onto himself. 

Take the utmost care of her and relay that Father and I rejoice at the news of Reyna’s return! 

Against his will, Tyril’s mind replayed the moment of reading Adrina's letter. Could he truly protect Reyna? Without demur, he would give his life trying to ensure her safety, albeit such sacrifice seemed pointless from his current standpoint. If he was gone, who would protect her?

“I suppose sleep is not my ally tonight,” she sighed to herself, having woken up from a nightmare-filled sleep. Wrapped in their sheets, Reyna observed Tyril, carefully studying his back, the hair that cascaded over his muscles, the way the moonlight reflected on his skin and how utterly ethereal he looked against the starry night sky. He was sitting on his legs on the balcony, facing the city, unnaturally still. As concern gripped her heart, Reyna cautiously walked over and touched his shoulder. 

"Tyril, are you alright?"

The elf looked up, snapped out of his reverie, and his hand covered hers mechanically. "I was meditating. I'm alright."

As it dawned on her, she covered her lips with a hand, doused with a wave of embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's— that makes much more sense than what I feared," she blubbered. She did not intend to reveal the exact reason of her concern, he did not need to hear that her initial thought was that he had been petrified the same way Kaya was. "I won't bother you any longer, I'll just—"

Tyril slowly rose to his feet and rubbed her arm. "It's alright, Reyna, I was supposed to finish a long time ago anyway. Let's get you back to bed."

As his hand rested on the small of her back, he noticed the dampness of her skin. 

"Do you do that often? Meditate?"

He nodded. "It's supposed to be only thirty minutes a day, but…" he sighed. "Once the feasible solutions were depleted, I started praying for a miracle. There was nothing more that I could do but pray, so I prayed for hours on end."

Reyna bit her bit as an impulsive thought emerged in her mind. "Would you pray with me?"

As the look of surprise flowered on his face, his brows furrowed, but his expression changed into a kind, encouraging smile within seconds.

"Absolutely. Is there anything in particular you'd wish to pray for?" 

Her answer was affirmative. "Do you mind telling me a bit more about your prayers first? I'm not exactly religious, and I don't know much about your gods, but I feel like it's the right thing to do."

"Anyone is welcome to seek comfort and guidance from the gods, you needn't be religious for that," he reassured. "We do not have many prayers per se as we'd rather engage in a silent conversation with the gods during meditation, but should one need a prayer there is a universal formula. I can't know for certain, but I believe the gods would look kindly on prayers for blessing or good fortune," he explained, gently rubbing her back as he guided her inside. As they made themselves comfortable on the silk carpet, assuming the exact position Reyna found him in, the elf interlaced their fingers and rested their hands on his lap. "I suppose one could also pray to nature, as do orcs, although I haven't heard of my kind practising that."

"I'd like to pray for Kaya, to put in a good word for her, so she can rest easily," she breathed out quickly, almost cutting him short. When his expression fell, she rapidly added: "Unless that's not how it works, then—"

"No, it's just— it's very thoughtful of you," he smiled, and Reyna breathed a sigh of relief. "If you wish, you may repeat after me, but it’s not necessary since you may find it challenging to pronounce certain words.”

“I’ll try,” she nodded and took a deep breath. As soon as Tyril noticed her shoulders relax, he began reciting the prayer, slowly, pronouncing the words clearly, giving her time to repeat. 

“Alcarvalda nostar, varyando o in nór nosyë, iqulmë lissë an vilissë o Kaya Duskraven. Cé pataro imbi eleni, nínion ‘nin gwannad lîn. Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath.”

As he finished, the elf stroked her knuckles softly, observing her carefully. Reyna was on edge, that was clear, although he could not figure out the exact reason—however, as tears spilled from her tightly shut eyes, he intervened, closing her in an embrace.

"Do you think she rests in peace? That Xenia's deed hadn't influenced her eternal rest?"

"I believe our Gods are omniscient and just, and as they welcomed Kaya, they saw her for the wonderful person she was before her life was stolen from her."

She hummed in response. They stayed like this for several minutes until Reyna’s breath evened out, and a yawn slipped past her lips. Tyril helped her climb onto the mattress and lulled her to sleep, just the night before, telling her a story of Undermount society’s attempts to open the city to the world. "Thank you," she whispered. “I— The prayer did bring me some comfort.”

Two hours. It took only two hours for Reyna to wake up again. She sat up straight, her skin blanketed with sweat. Tyril stroked her back through the damp gown as she took deep breaths to compose herself. 

"It's alright," he comforted repeatedly, allowing her to rest on his chest and cry out all the emotions bothering her at that moment. 

But it wasn't alright. At that moment, Reyna could not remember the nightmare that caused her to wake up drenched in sweat and with a plea on her lips, but she felt utterly devastated and powerless, and no amount of consolation was able to calm her down. Her heart would not stop pounding against her ribcage as tears would not stop flowing down her cheeks, and the terror she awakened to deftly transfigured into suffocating panic that immediately alerted the elf. 

Fixing their position so that they were sitting facing each other, Tyril's palms cradled her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Reyna, focus on me, alright? Breathe with me, take as long and deep breaths as you can, and hold it in for five seconds," he instructed, feeling his equilibrium wane as the woman before him struggled to settle her nerves. The calming spell was ready to roll from the tip of his tongue when at last Reyna took a deep, shaky breath. 

He counted down the seconds out loud for her, time after time, until her muscles relaxed, and the body became heavy in his hands. The back of his hand wiped the drops of sweat off her forehead as he laid her down, back to the same position she woke up in, and kissed her cold temple, pressing his lips for several long seconds.

She hadn't slept well the night before, and that night would probably be no different. Rubbing her back up and down, he proposed to tell her another story, in a poor attempt to help her fall asleep. 

"Just hold me, please,” she pleaded. And as a devout worshipper, Tyril held her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, although his heart ached seeing his partner in pain. 

"Are you asleep?" 

Startled, Tyril blinked repeatedly to rid his eyes of the remainder of sleep. "No." 

“I want to cut my hair.”

The elf’s brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze focusing on the pendulum clock on the far side of the room. “Now? It’s three in the morning.”

“I need a change, and my hair reminds me of what—” she held her tongue. “Will you help me or not?”

Rubbing off the blur in his eyes, Tyril rolled off the bed and approached the mirror she was sitting in front of.

"Are you certain?"

"Just do it."

Visibly unstrung and beaded with sweat, Reyna sat facing the vanity mirror, holding back tears. Unconvinced, he took his own sword from her hand and gripped the hilt tightly. Several seconds and one skilful swish of the sword later, inches of her dark locks hit the floor silently. Holding her blurry gaze in the reflection, Tyril inquired further.

“Calanín, what’s troubling you?”

Reyna dismissed his worry with a shake of her head and made her way to the en-suite bathroom. “Sorry for waking you up,” she added before disappearing into the dimly lit room. The last sound he had heard before drifting off to a turbulent sleep was that of Reyna climbing into the ornate bath. 

As the full moon gave way to the sun, coolness to sparkling dew and thin fog, the couple set out to meet their friends, shyly setting out on a new adventure, leaving the turbulent night but a memory.