#its onyx's fault
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virgil-isnt-a-lee · 9 months ago
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The lee mood is making me think of being wrecked so irl storytime that I haven't told you gremlins about!
Okay so I was wearing a crop top, and one of my close friends looks at me (she's behind me) and she kinda giggled and came up behind me amd went "holy shit vee, you've got back dimples" and ngl I'm like 99% sure everyone does and she just never sees people's backs but whatever. Anyway she grabs my hips from behind and starts pressing and rubbing her thumbs into my back and I JUST- I fucking lost it. It was SO TICKLY LIKE DAMN?? And one of my other friends was sitting behind me later, and I'm sitting at a table, and he's sitting behind me, and he just starts fucking clawing at my ribs and HELLO I LITERALLY COULDN'T SQUIRM ANYWHERE?? HOLY SHIT I laughed so hard o fucking snorted. And I've done that like a grand total of three times in my entire life. Mortifying.
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virgil-isnt-a-lee · 2 months ago
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Lowk me
ler: you good?
me, giggle drunk after being tickled within an inch of my life: pfff i LOVE beeschurgerzzz
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matchamilk60212 · 2 months ago
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sparring practice gone wrong oop
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sarawritestories · 8 months ago
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Hi! Can I request a xaden riorson X reader angst ?
Ask and you shall receive!
A Dragon Without its Rider is a Tragedy
Xaden Riorson X Reader
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1000 Followers Celebration Post!
Summary: Xaden and you are on a mission where everything goes wrong.
Content Warning: Blood, Poisioning Main Character Death, Angst.
This is a short one but packed with Angst.
Word count 731
1000 follower Celebration Masterlist
Tags: @garricks4thwingqueen
My blood begins to burn as the poison, from the dagger currently residing in my abdomen, courses through my veins. Liam is hovering over me, his face in and out of my focus, but I’m glad it’s his face and not of the venin’s snarling face that sunk his dagger in me. When my eyes focus on the blonde’s handsome face is riddled with guilt.
I watch as a venin sneaks up behind Liam. Dagger at the ready, my feet were moving before my mind could properly think through all the options. Liam will not die today. I shoulder Liam knocking him over as the blade pierces through my flesh. I scream out in pain as I watch Venin’s grin turn into something sinister as she sinks the blade deeper into my stomach. The venin flees before Liam can kill her.
“Why would you do that for me?” He asks as I begin cough harshly. The sounds of battle erupting behind us.
The agonizing roar of my dragon floods my ears. I whimper as Liam loops his arms under mine and begins to drag me over. My limbs start to feel numb unaware of the rocks digging into my skin. Breathing is becoming difficult with every inhale, “Sloane needs you, Liam.” I wheezed. Liam gently leaning me against a tree trunk. My eyes begin to grow heavy. “Tell Xaden-“
Liam shakes his head, “Tell him yourself, he is on his way. Just stay with me.” He grips my hand lacing his fingers between mine. “You will not let go of my hand; help is coming.”
The ground shakes, as two dragons land on the ground in front of us. my Red clubtail laid her head so her nose brushed my foot.  Hang on, Little one. I groan. Glancing at the second dragon, my vision blurs, but I know that shade of blue anywhere, “Sgaeyl.” Sharp pain overtakes my body as I cry out squeezing Liam’s hand. My eyes feel extremely heavy, I allow them to close and lean my head back.
I feel a hand cup my face, fingers lightly tapping my face. “Hey, stay with me, sweetheart.” Xaden’s voice breaks through though his voice sounds like we are underwater.  My eyes creak open and for a brief moment I meet his gold fleck Onyx eyes.
“Xaden.” I whisper utilizing my vocal cords becoming a strenuous act.
He wipes my damp hair from my forehead. “Shhh, we will get you to a healer, love, I just need you to stay with me.”
“I’m …so …tired.” I whimper, “I…Need…to…tell you…” I cough and Xaden rubs my back.
“No. No goodbyes.” Xaden whispers, “We will get you help,” I note that his voice cracks. Another wave of pain causes me to wince.
“Stop…Lying…” I give him a weak smile, trying to blink.  “We…don’t…have... a lot of…Time…” I try to reach for him, but my arm won’t move. As if sensing what I want he lifts my hand and places my palm on his tan cheek.
“As your Wing Leader, I command you to live.”
“When…have… I…ever…Listened…to…you...” He laughs as tears stream down his cheeks, and he presses his forehead to mine. “I…Lo” I try to take a deep breath as chills overtake my body. “I…love…You…”
“I love you too.” Xaden presses his lips to mine. “Fuck, don’t leave me.” He sniffles.  My dragon gave a low whine...
“I’m…Sorry…” I wince once more. “Liam.” Xaden moves, so the blonde can be in my line of site. “No…Regrets…”
Liam kiss my forehead, “It’s been an honor being your friend.”
“No…The…Honor…is…mine.
Another whine from my dragon as she nudges my foot.  Hey you.
Hello, Little One. I’m sorry I could not protect you.
It’s not your…fault… I …loved…being…your..rider..
And I loved being your dragon. Close Your eyes, Little one. Don’t fight it anymore. We’ll be okay.
I lean back my head against the wall. “Hold Me.” I whisper, closing my eyes as I do. I feel a pair of arms wrap around me the burning no longer there replaced by a cool numbness, the chills.
“I don’t want to do this without you.”
I can’t even bring myself to smile. “Try…Live… Love…”
He presses his head to mine as Liam still grips my hand. Darkness consumes me, the sounds of a dragon roaring the last thing I hear before walking into the welcoming arms of Malek.
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reallyhatethiswebsite · 3 months ago
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This is also me shamelessly submitting another request alongside my very NSFW one: could we get Raphael being there while Tav gives birth?
Read on AO3
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Tav paced back and forth, hands resting on her swollen belly. Each time a contraction tore through her she would grimace, bend forward as much as possible, and bear it with whatever dignity she scrounged up. When the pain passed, she’d resume pacing.
“Mistress,” said the Infernal physician, “perhaps you should lay down -”
“No,” barked Tav. “I don’t want to lay down.”
“So you intend to wear a trench into my floors instead?” Drawled Raphael.
“Yes,” replied Tav, glaring daggers at him.
“Mistress,” the physician tried again, “it would be easier for both you and the child if you -”
“I’m not bloody laying down,” growled Tav. “I’ve been laying down for the last three months of pregnancy. I need to move around or I’m going to cut this baby out of my stomach myself.”
“You won’t change her mind,” Raphael said lightly, “she’s a stubborn creature. She’ll do things her way until she simply cannot any longer.”
The physician sighed, rubbing her eyes.
Tav’s waters had broken several hours ago – much to poor Haarlep’s horror. Raphael was away on business at the time, but as soon as word reached him that his first offspring was about to be born, he’d burst back into the house, physician in tow. The birthing room had been ready for a few days, Tav slightly exceeding her due date, so the three had sequestered inside. Now it was simply a waiting game. The physician hovered nearby. Raphael sat in a plush, comfy chair, seeming to all the world as indifferent and relaxed as usual. Only the occasional twitch of his tail gave away his potential anxiety.
It felt like the entire House of Hope, even every wailing soul within the walls, were holding their breaths. Teetering on the edge of anticipation for the ushering in of a new era: the birth of a prince.
“Ah…!” Tav stopped in her tracks. Hissed as fresh, furious pain wracked her. Different, sharper than before. It didn’t fade. “I think…argh, I think he’s coming…!”
The physician touched Tav’s belly, felt lower, between her thighs. “Yes. You’re open enough. I feel his head. You need to get into the water.”
The physician helped Tav out of her sweat-soaked nightdress and in to the bathing pool of hot water. Raphael watched intently, his onyx and ember eyes never blinking, as Tav – teeth gritted – eased herself into a sitting position, knees up and apart. The water and its soothing magic helped, but the baby wanted out, now. Demanding, just like his father, and damn was she feeling it.
“Gods…he finally decides he’s ready and he’s just going to…to rip right through me…” Tav panted. Curled her fists. Cried out as a violent contraction signalled the end, and the beginning.
“Start pushing,” instructed the physician. Tav groaned, a sound that morphed into a dull scream. Raphael stood up, crossed the room, standing close. His tail thrashed wildly but his expression remained neutral. Tav gave him a foul, pained look.
“This is your fault,” she snarled, slapping her palms on the sides of the bath. “I’ll kill you for this, I swear it.”
“Of course you will, darling,” purred Raphael.
He was not indifferent to her suffering, she knew. Part of him enjoyed it. That she was agonising to bring their – his – son into life only made her pain taste sweeter. It was the simple truth of Raphael’s nature. Something Tav had accepted long ago. Birthing this baby was the scariest thing she’d ever done, scarier than coming to terms with how she felt for a diabolical devil, that she was willing to give him her soul and her heart. Even facing down the Netherbrain didn’t compare. She was hurting and she was frightened, but Raphael was there, strong and assured and steady, and Tav knew she could get through it.
Not without one Hell of a fuss, however.
“GET THIS DAMN THING OUT OF ME!” She bellowed between screams.
“Keep pushing!” Yelled the physician.
“What do you think I’m doing?!” Tav roared back.
“Push, Tav,” Raphael intoned. Commanded. “Let our son’s life begin.”
Eventually, amidst the blood and pain and chaos, it did. A wrinkled, wet and wailing infant was placed on Tav’s chest and she, exhausted and delirious, loved him instantly and irrevocably.
“Healthy,” declared the physician, “and strong. Very strong.”
Tav tiredly adjusted her baby, who latched onto her nipple and began to suckle. His thin, ropey little tail curled. Raphael looked down at them, smug and preening with pride. He would never be the type to offer her his hand to squeeze for comfort, or become overly emotional and adoring of his new son, but he was there. He stayed. And those things mattered more to Tav than her pride would ever let her admit.
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sonicasura · 9 months ago
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Kaijuformers, Kaiju Transformers, is what you get when one side of the war decides to ramp things and the other follows suit to survive. Should it start on the Autobot side then mostly blame the Matrix of Leadership for its decision to turn Optimus into a giant monstrous titan at some random point. The reason why or whether its permanent depends on you handle the eldritch Spark containing pacemaker.
If it occurred on the Decepticon side first, then it's fucking Shockwave whose at fault. He did make actual Predacon clones in Aligned and took over Onyx Prime's body in the comics. There's a reason why the phrase "There's Satan and then there is Shockwave" exists. Megatron just approves the idea.
Either way it would be pretty fucking scary when you think about this iteration of their war on Earth. Literal giant monster fights that is just as destructive like in actual monster movies. There would be new technology created to make this new style of war more unpredictable.
Battleground Generators that form a temporary alternate pocket dimension to avoid massive unnecessary damage or unwanted casualties. Stealth Fields to make attacks undetectable unless intercepted in time.(You know the cases where entire towns or colonies of people disappear with no explanation on their whereabouts. It's like that but as a hunting ground based attack.)
A species known for adaptation potentially taking things a step too far. Decisions that could ultimately change Cybertronians into something unrecognizable from their original forms. War is terrifying for many reasons as morals barely matter and there are no lines left to cross.
Is it really worth it when the only way forward is to discard what you once were for the power of a monster?
Edit: There's nothing Godzilla related here. I just put the GIF here cause I thought it would fit. Lol
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she-whatshername · 6 months ago
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Drifted
Y'all Its here. The first chapter of 'Drifted'. I really cannot believe I am posting this. Whew. I also posted this on Ao3. Once I figure out how to link stuff in this magical world wide web, I'll get on it.
Series Summary: In the space between the cadets arrival to Riorson House and the battle at Basgiath, Bodhi is navigating his heart against the trails of the revolution and the blissful torment of unexpected love. For a man who has spent his life shouldering the emotions of others, he finds his own at mercy of a flier with a wounded heart and mind more dangerous than the creatures lurking beyond the boarders. Though, its hard to surrender his own heart to someone who has no desire to find her own. And for Cree, A drifter from the east and newest member to the revolution who, despite her father's warning to "Never Trust A Tyr" ends up falling for one.
Drifted, Chapter 1: Riorson? 
“It’s a lost magic…maybe there’s a reason this stone never worked. It might be broken.” 
It was all Bodhi could think of at the moment. Kindness and a bit of wit. What else was he supposed to say? Violent was standing next to him, nodding as if she was  present but he could tell behind her vacant eyes her mind was running through every scenario that led to this moment of what he knew she perceived as failure. A bloodied hand and no wards.
Xaden, his cousin, was trying his best to console her in his own way. But, as quickly as he whispers his words, he’s back to being stoic, unemotional and negotiating back up plans with Kylynn and The Assembly. His onyx eyes flashing up momentarily to meet Bodhi’s brown. It was a fraction of glance but the silent request rang loudly in Bodhi’s mind. 
Comfort Violet. 
And so, Bodhi did as was asked. To comfort and to care. 
It was natural for him to do it. Even at a young age he found himself in situations he didn’t have to be in, but wanted to because he had an unwavering desire to care.
 As a child he snuck nightly deserts into Xaden’s room after he and Garrick took his uncles prized stallion out for a ride when they absolutely weren’t supposed to; resulting Garrick getting thrown off and Xaden getting no sweets for that entire summer. Or, the time he stepped in and fought a kid who picked on Imogen, which resulted in him getting his ass kicked in the process. But, at least they left Imogen alone after that. He sat with his mother, holding her hand in both of his on the nights he found her crying and unable to sleep. He didn’t know what to say then, but felt that his presence was the least he could do. 
And then there was the 24 hours after their parents’ executions before they were all displaced. He did not shed a tear, but was the shoulder everyone needed for them to shed their own.
Even Xaden.
He didn’t have to be there for everyone. But, to Bodhi, he had to be there for everyone. 
And, he truly did care for Violet. This wasn’t her fault or her failure. Ever since Resson, everything she knew to be true was either a lie or a cover up of a lie; from  knowing every part of history, to getting all of it wrong. He has never been someone so tied to the truth as she was, but he absolutely could understand that feeling of your world being upended on you without any warning. And, if gentle humor and comfort from a friend could heal her spiraling mind and bruised ego, so be it. He’s had far worse to work with in the past. 
But, gods, couldn’t he be a little angry too? Hope was a fickle feeling he’d try to abandon all those years ago during the apostasy. It didn’t save him, his mother, his home or country then. But in moments like these, the promise of the safeguarding of his home and friends are hanging in front of him by hope, only to be stolen away moments later. It fucking sucked to say the least. 
But, as he heard Xaden whisper to Violet, they would try again. It seemed to be the new Tyrrish way of life. 
A dash of silver crossed his eyes as Violet stormed off with Brennon following quickly behind. Another quick glance from his cousin. He could tell the two of them had one of their weird, mind arguments and he assumed as much that it didn’t go well. By the grace of Amari, could those two ever put their egos aside and just talk to eachother?
Now Xaden’s glowering at him. What, was he supposed to chase after her now too?
“Leave the rider be. Let her lick her wounds in peace.” Cuir had spoken through their bond. She was right, as she always is.
“Tell Xaden that.” Bodhi responded.
“And insert myself into that mess of a mating? Absolutely not. I hear enough about it on my end.” 
He knew she was mentioning Sgaeyl. Apparently when Xaden and Violet are arguing and not taking the appropriate measure to shield their emotions the blue dragon becomes even more volatile and scarier to be around. Which Bodhi found hard to believe due to Sgaeyl already being scary to be around as is.
“I bet you’re glad to have chosen me.” He commented, his eyes brightening a bit 
He could feel the pride in her tone as she echoed across his mind, “I refuse to feed that ego of yours anymore than I should but I suppose I am…fortunate to have chosen you. You’re also much more intelligent than the rest of your little companions when you do decide to indulge in your little pleasures. Though after that one tryst with that obnoxiously loud rider-” 
Speaking of shield, he decided to do just that, cutting off their communication for now. He was not in the mood to discuss his love life with his dragon, especially when he had to fix everyone else's relationships. 
The rest of the assembly began to file out of the cavern, Kylynn and Xaden having shared one last remark before she exited, her face seemingly not pleased with whatever words were exchanged. That left Xaden and Bodhi alone. 
Before Bodhi could step towards him, the entire cavern was surrounding by shadows, making the room an endless shade of black. It stayed like that for a moment, echoing the sounds of his cousin’s frustrated groan before the light of the night sky slowly began to creep into the darkness; the shadows receding back to their natural places amongst the walls. 
Bodhi had been caught in Xaden’s shadows a few times, and though he was familiar with the sensation, it was still fucking unsettling.
“Cousin? Shit.” Xadens rough voice cut through the silence, “Didn’t know you were still here.” 
Humor and kindness, Bodhi.“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to sulk alone but…maybe I should have. Are you - “ 
“We’re fucked.” Xaden answered bluntly. His hands wrapped around the back of his neck and he glanced upwards to the open ceiling above him. “It’s not her fault.”
He wasn’t sure if it was reckless courage or the reckless desire to comfort but Bodhi stepped forward towards his cousin, speaking softly, ”Of course not. She’s given us more information on taking down venin and wyvern than The Assembly. She got it wrong this time, and that's rare for her. She’ll try again. We’ll try again.” He decided to use his own words against him, which got him a side eyeing glare.
“I take it from the wallowing family gathering, it didn’t work?” Garricks voice filled the room as the young man stepped into view. He strode down the stairs, a roll of churam in his left and lit match in his right. “I was saving this for our victory party tonight but considering no one is celebrating, it can also help in lifting the mood.” 
He passed it to Xaden and held up the match. He took a deep drag which caused a low whistle from Garrick who mumbled something along the lines of saving some for the rest of them. Eventually Garrick got his turn and pretty much did the same. Bodhi took it next, much to his friends' surprise, but hells, this called for it. If he couldn’t be openly pissed he could at least take something to dull the anger.
“Fuck” Xaden exhaled, a cloud of smoke leaving his lips.
“Double fuck.” Agreed Garrick.
Bodhi nodded, mentally cursing the situation alongside the two.
The three of them stood in silence, watching the warm clouds of churam hover in the air around them before the dissipated into the open ceiling above them.
Garricks’s voice eventually broke the silence while he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You know, I was really hoping I could use the whole raising the wards celebration to my advantage tonight. Safety for Aretia of course but now that Nyra’s back in the fold, my chances were looking pretty good.”
Xaden gave his friend a look that boarded both amusement and concern, “Voldaren? Really. Our senior wingleader Voldaren?” 
“Former senior wing leader..” Garrick corrected. “If Bodhi and I are your left and right hand of this revolution doesn’t that make me outrank her?” 
“You really need to sort your shit out with Imogen. For all of our sanities.” 
A dangerously sly smirk crossed Garrick’s lips as he rubbed shoulders with the dark haired man, “You’re one to talk about ‘sorting your shit out’. And besides, I know what Nyra likes. And if we were all celebrating tonight I could have had her and Im-”
“If we can’t raise the wards now, what is the back up plan?” Bodhi asked, desperate to change the subject. He did not want to hear about the two people he’d often refer to as his siblings in any explicit manner; not this evening. 
Xaden gave Bodhi a look that he could have sworn was a non-verbal thank you before his usual, broody facade took over again. “Same thing it always was. But I’m not taking her to Cordyn. I’ll go myself after we finish our usual route for defactors and-” Before he could finish Xaden paused, his body posture becoming more upright than it normally is. He must be talking to Syagel. Then, he started walking out of the chamber in long strides. 
Garrick and Bodhi shared a confused glance before hearing Xaden’s booming voice to follow him. Garrick huffed in annoyance and pressed the blunt against the strap of leather on his shoulder, snuffing out the flame. “You heard the boss.” He grumbled before beginning walking. 
And, as if they were young again, Bodhi started moving as well, a step behind Garrick. 
Bodhi moved quickly taking the steps down the mountain in sets of twos and threes, reaching out to Cuir in the process. “What’s going on? Wyvern? How many?” 
“No,” Cuir responded, the tone questioning as if he could see her seeking out into the darkness of the night to find the answer, “Something else. Something familiar but - Oh.” 
Bodhi could have sworn he heard a chuckle in her voice. And hearing Sgaeyl’s roar echo from the mountainside didn’t sound funny at all.
“What? Are you and the others coming?” 
“Follow your brethren and keep calm. Do not act on impulse. I’ll alert the others to stand down.” 
Well that wasn’t comforting or reassuring at all. But, he trusted Cuir; as ominous as she tends to be sometimes. So he followed along tried to keep as calmly as possible. They Were now going around the fortress, to the front gates. It was the same path they took as kids when they were trying to sneak around the place without getting noticed, or cut through the grounds to the front  without actually going through the palace. Bodhi took a few glances at ahead at Xaden and Garrick who both conversed quietly with eachother. But, they didn’t look ready for battle or as confused as he was. 
What did they know that he didn’t? 
After a few twists and turns in the grounds they made their way to the front wall, towards the main iron doors and stopped as if they were waiting for someone. And, sure enough a pair of footsteps were heard rounding the winding path up to the fortress.  
“...So, whats going on?” Bodhi questioned. And seriously, why were neither of them drawing their weapons? 
“The scout we sent out has returned.” Xaden answered, his shadows were slowly swirling at his feet. 
“With riders?” Bodhi pressed. 
Xaden was still staring at the pathway “Not quite.”
As if on cue, two figures appeared. The scout, one of the riders from Xaden and Garricks year stepped forward followed by a cloaked individual in a dark brown hood. Both illuminated by a floating mage light in the scouts hand.  
A hooded creature, were they a venin? 
“Here we are Riorson. Crazy you’ve lived here your whole life and forgot where to find this place. It is a pretty big fortress afterall…” 
Bodhi blinked, his brows furrowing with confusion. The scout, Leeson, was talking to the hooded rider, not his cousin. Was he confused? 
Glancing around, Neither Garrick or Xaden were confused either. It was like they were expecting this to happen. In fact, his cousin looked like he was smirking. Bodhi felt like slapping his face; was he high?
“Ah yes,” the voice responded from behind the fabric of their cloak, “Thanks for bringing me back, Grant.” 
“Need anything else before I…wait, Rirson?” His eyes widened as he gazed upon Xaden and then back to the hooded figure, and to Xaden again.
Two hands appeared from the cloak, pulling at the hood over her head to reveal the exact opposite of his cousin. She was a young woman with brown skin, darker than his own but with a complexion Bodhi matched to the warm color of chestnuts that grew outside of his former family home. 
The sides of her head were shaved, stopping at the long thick braided twists of hair that were bundled together to flow down her back, much like the mane of a wild horse, save for one singular loc that was kept free next to her right eye. That hair, he’d never seen a style like that here in Aretia or all of Navarre for that matter. Her smile pressed against her cheeks, highlighting what he could perceive to be two small dimples. Bodhi wasn’t sure why that was a feature worth taking note of. 
“Riorson?” Xaden finally asked, his voice calm and stoic. 
“Riorson!” She responded her voice was oddly warm, her cocky smile once again gracing her features. 
“Wait-” Leeson’s voice was starting to panic while glancing between the obvious Riorson and the impostor who looked absolutely nothing like his cousin, “...R-Riorson?”
Her dark brown eyes glanced in Bodhi’s direction, causing the young man’s breath to hitch in his throat. She tilted her head, studying him, “Riorson?”
“Durran.” Xaden corrected.
“Ah.” 
“Can someone tell me what the hells is going on?!” Bodhi couldn’t believe his own outburst. 
The woman snapped at her fingers on her left hand, and Leeson’s body suddenly perked upright, his eyes blinking a few times before stuttering, “What��where am I? What’s going on here?” He turned to the dark haired woman, “Who are you?”
He really shouldn't have taken that many hits of churam. Whatever was happening, it needed to stop. His own hand began to stretch forward, drawing power to his fingertips. He hadn’t seen this type of signet before. And no matter how friendly this woman was acting towards everyone, Bodhi should keep her in check, maybe if he blocks her mind work for a bit he could actually get some answers. 
“Remember,” Cuir reminded him, “do not act on impulse.” 
“It's alright, Grant. Get inside.” Xaden ordered. Lesson nodded once, placing a hand on his head as he walked past them towards the main doors to Riorson House. 
“He’s gonna be freaked out for weeks.” Garrick sighed. 
Bodhi understood. It finally connected in his mind. “Mind work.” He declared. Xaden nodded once. 
“If you’re Riorson then where’s your…what was her name…well your Sgaeyl, er whatever?” Garrick asked awkwardly. Clearly the churman started to effect him as well.  
She motioned towards the south, “The cliffs, keeping watch. She didn’t really approve of this idea.” 
“Then cut the bullshit Cree. Why are you here?” 
“Business as always, Riorson.” Cree chastised, “Fine, to the order of my business then.” She dropped her rucksack to the ground where it landed with a rather loud thud. Crouching down she flipped open the bag and reached inside, her whole arm entering the back up to her shoulder while she fished around for whatever she was searching for until she pulled out a rather large black object.
Bodhi stared at it with a small hint of wonder as it came into view under the mage light. Aside from the fake eggs used during war games, he’d never seen a real one before. “A dragon’s egg?” 
Cree nodded, “So observant, not-Riorson.I found it two weeks ago up north in the Esben mountains. Scorched earth and a fallen dragon and its rider. A couple of nights later I’m awakened to the sound of thunder and winds on a clear night. So I followed it, found a friend along the way and persuaded him to take me to where I’d find you. So here I am, in fucking Tyrrendor of all places.”
Bodhi assumed she must have sensed the hundred dragon riot that flew south of Basgiath a week ago. 
“And now that my business is concluded here. Goodbye.” She set the egg on the ground and began packing up her rucksack.  
“You came all this way to deliver an egg?” Garrick questioned. “That’s highly unlike you, Cree.”
“Don’t act like you know me. I don't care what you do with it, but if it's meant to survive it has better odds here than with me. And, I’m not really the dragon-liking type, remember?”
“Well since you showed up unannounced on a rather shit day for me, I guess I’ll invoke my favor now.” Xaden’s word stopped Cree who locked eyes with the tall man.
“A favor? I don't owe you shit, Riorson.” The words barely leaving Cree’s clenched teeth. 
“Teorann.” Was all Xaden had to say. He spoke with such authority. And seeing the slight wideness of Cree’s eyes and her face slacking slightly led Bodhi to believe there was a deeper meaning behind the word.
She relented with a angered sigh, “What’s the fucking favor?”
“Join us - ” 
“Absolutely not. This isn’t my war. Pick another favor.”
“Six months. That’s all I’ll need.” 
“Not happening.” Cree motioned to leave, however she could barely take a step backwards towards the winding path as the thrumming beat of Sgaeyl’s wing’s surrounded the air around them, pushing it towards the hard earth with such force it almost knocked the woman over. The dragon crouched low once her claws touched the ground, her neck snaking down to hover over Cree, a huff of hot steam casting down on her, surely sending a shiver down her spine. It had to be only about 10 feet separating the top of Cree’s head and the blue dragon’s glistening fangs. 
Cree kept her fear filled eyes forward to Xaden. Bodhi knew she knew better not to look up at the clearly pissed off dragon. “If I knew you’d be bringing your girlfriend I would’ve brought my own backup!” She yelled.
“Trust me.” Garrick laughed, “You wouldn’t have wanted Xaden to bring his other girlfriend either.” 
Bodhi watched Xaden cross his arms, knowing he had Cree cornered. With a smug look he said, “She doesn’t really take no for an answer. And she's not too pleased with your little impersonation from earlier.”
Cree slowly began to move from side to side as if she was literally weighing her options; though she didn't have many. “3 months.” 
“Six.” Xaden countered.
“Four and a fortnight”
“Six.”
“Five months, and twenty eight nights.” 
“That’s basically six-”
Sgaeyl opened her mouth and roared down upon Cree. It was loud enough to cause chatter from within the fortress as some people began to gather outside to see what was going on.
Cree finally gave in, “Fine! Fine, six months!”
Xaden closed his eyes momentarily in victory, “Glad you could come to an agreement.” 
A high pitched cry echoed in the mountains, turning Sgaeyl’s attention upwards and she reached over Cree to snatch the egg into her talon and launched in the air towards the noise. 
Cree closed her eyes with an exhale, muttering some sort of thanks to the gods before glaring over at Xaden again. 
“Let’s get inside, you need to meet some people.” Xaden ordered while turning towards the fortress. Garrick smirked at Cree and motioned that she follow as well before turning towards Cree, “You too Bodhi.” 
Cree huffed and threw up her hood before walking inside. And once again, Bodhi found himself following behind the others. 
The Assembly was not pleased with Xaden’s new recruit when they did find out and haul them all into the large assembly room for questioning. They spent the next 10 minutes taking turns chaisting Xaden, which wasn’t too out of the norm for them. Felix for not calling a proper vote. Ulices for his recklessness, even Brennan for not thinking through how Riorson house has grown 5 times its size in occupants over the past two days and with the addition of rider deserters adding on an additional house guest wasn’t as easy as it used to be. 
Bodhi was sure other words were being said but now that Cree was standing next to Xaden in the light of the assembly room, he was able to truly lay eyes on her. She was tall, not as tall as he or Xaden but much taller than the other female cadets in the fortress. She had freckles dotted across her face mimicking that of a night skies constellation, and he saw what he could visualize to be a scar that cut her skin from the end of her brow to right past her left ear.
And her hair, gods her hair. He’d never seen braids like that before. They were much more intricate than the ones Matthias, Violet or even Cat wore; each strand layered and woven into the other and looped over the other to mimic a mohawk. 
She was…something.
He couldn’t tell if it was the lingering buzz of the churam or if he really could hear Cuir chortling in his head. 
Eventually, his attention drew back to the matter at hand, The Assembly. Apparently Xaden made his word final and didn’t give any room for argument, stating something along the lines of ‘Needed every chance they had since the wards weren’t ready to be raised yet.’ 
Suri was next to speak; this wasn’t going to go well, “And why should we trust this Poromish-”
“Cygni.” Cree interjected loudly. It was the first time she actually spoke since she walked into Riorson house with everyone. “I’m Cygni. Not Poromish. And yeah, there's a fucking difference.” 
Suri pressed on, “If you’re going to be trusted to join our cause and be part of our command, aside from unhatched eggs, what can you offer us for our trust and protection?” 
“Well for starters I can bake a mean pie.” Cree began sarcastically, “And I’m a great shot. I could show you-” 
“Or don't.” Garrick’s tone was even but his eyes almost looked like they were panicking. “We’re still rebuilding the place.”
Bodhi felt like he was just standing there on the sidelines of this whole conversation, so he supplied a small, “You did mind work, don’t you?” 
Cree snapped her head in his direction before eyeing the rest of the assembly who seemed to be intrigued by Bodhi’s words.
Taking the cue from the assembly he continued, “you forced a scout to think you were Xaden Riorson.” 
“I prefer the term persuasion.” Cree answered.
Suri raised a brow, “So you can manipulate anyone to your whim?” 
“Show us what you can do.” It was Brennan’s voice who now joined the conversation. 
Cree shugged her shoulders from beneath her cloak, “Okay.” Her eyes scanned the room, making contact with each member of the Assembly before her eyes locked on Garricks. Garrick let out a squeak of surprise as Cree stepped forward. He was able to block the first to swipes she took at him with her hands, but eventually she sidestepped to the left and quickly grazed her fingers over his temple. Garrick had a jerked back quickly, before he closed his eyes, probably in an attempt to shield is mind from her probing gaze. It had only lasted a few moments, but Cree eventually blinked, an exhale leaving her lips.
A smug look grew on Garricks face, “Nice try. Best shields in all of Aretia.” 
That was absolutely not true. But Bodhi didn’t want to press the matter. 
“Getting a little rusty there, Cree?” Xaden said with an irritated gravel in his tone.
“How…unamusing.” Suri mused while leaning back in her chair.
Suddenly, Garrick’s body jerked, his wide shoulders shaking as a large laugh left his lips. Both Bodhi, Xaden, and most of the Assembly in the room gave the lieutenant a confused look.
“Have some composure Tavis,” Suri began only to be met with another roar of laughter, this time his hand slapping on his brother’s shoulder while he leaned into him. 
“Impressed yet?” Cree asked innocently. 
“What did you do?” Brennan asked, clearly impressed and intrigued by the display of power. 
“Not much really, I told his mind to believe that everything that one said was the funnest thing he’s ever heard. Because you’re a joke.” 
“How dare you-” Garricks laughter cut her off. The poor thing doubled over now, clutching his ribs. 
With a snap of Cree’s fingers it was over, Garrick finally gaining his composure, only to yell at Cree for never touching his mind again. Suri was pissed, but clearly did not approve of Cree in any way. Brennan told Xaden to get Cree on the front lines as quickly as tomorrow. And, with that, the Assembly left.
Once again it was Bodhi, Xaden, a still pissed Garrick, and the new member of the revolution, Cree.
Xaden started to head for the door, giving his final orders of the evening, “We take flight at sunrise. Meet us by the cliffs. Find her somewhere to stay, cousin. And Garrick, work on your shields.” 
“Yes sir.” Cree gave a rather lewd salute with her middle finger. 
Garrick let out a groan before he too made his way to the door, “I need a drink. See you in formation, Bodhi. And don’t do that shit to me again, Cree. S’felt weird as fuck.” 
And that left Bodhi and Cree. 
“So,” He began slowly, “Barracks are on the third floor and upwards. Pretty sure I could find you a room by yourself-”
“I may be stuck here for the next six months but I am not sleeping with a bunch of riders, dragons and Tyrs. Gods, my father is rolling in the next life cursing me for this.” 
Och. So much for casual conversation. She rivals Xaden as the meanest houseguest. Time to default, humor and kindness. “Well, there’s the town below…but that’s also full of riders, and the valley above us is full of dragons. I guess there’s the abandoned stables if you really want to be alone and away from all dragon and rider folk.” 
Her eyes perked up, “Not a bad idea, not-Xaden.” 
“Durran. But call me Bodhi.” He found himself saying rather quickly, almost pleadingly, “And, I was just kidding, you know.”
“You need to work on that humor, Bodhi.” 
“Wait, how do you know Xaden and-” And…she’s gone. 
Bodhi let out the longest exhale of the evening, his mind spinning as it recalled the past two hours. He made himself two promises that night. One, he’s never ever smoking that much Churam again. And two, come sunrise he’s going to track down Garrick in the morning and get answers about Cree.
And, perhaps three, maybe he should work on his humor.
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fablesuntold · 2 months ago
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@musingmemories sent in: ❝ i’ve been having nightmares... ❞ — from Max Mayfield to Lucas Sinclair ✨
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‘I’ve been having nightmares..” Never had Max’s tone sounded more vulnerable.
Nightmares. Lucas was no stranger to them either— and since that fateful night at the Creel house which had almost claimed Max’s life? They’d only become more frequently intense. Funny how things could change in the blink of an eye. Once a deep sleeper, even the loudest crash of thunder that rumbled through their small town wouldn’t have been enough to drag him from his slumber? Now, though? A pin dropping was all it took for Lucas to startle awake in the middle of the night. Insomnia. Something his therapist had concluded— a result of trauma after having watched his ex-girlfriend friend almost die in the massive earthquake that had rocked Hawkins and almost tore the town in two. Oh if only people knew the real extent of just of how deeply his trauma lay— and that the suspected natural disaster Hawkins had suffered through wasn’t so natural after all.. rather the Upside Down attempting to fight its way up to the surface.
In this instance, his guilt ridden conscience hadn’t been what had his eyelids fluttering open at the first crack of dawn. It was the rustling of sheets coming from Max’s bedroom, paired with distressed grunts that had Lucas springing into action in order to carefully coax her awake with a few gentle shakes. Which lead to where they currently were now— him perched on the edge of her bed.. a place he’d spent most of his nights and early mornings since Max had been discharged from the hospital and he’d opted to sleep on the couch of her dingy trailer until her mother returned from her well-needed stay at rehab.
That’s what friends did, didn’t they? They looked out for each other during hard times. And with Vecna still lurking in the shadows somewhere, waiting for another perfectly timed opportunity to strike again.. there wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving Max’s side until their ‘Zoomer’ was back on her feet properly. And even after, whether she liked it or not.
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“Are these nightmares about him..?” Not daring to utter Vecna’s name out loud as if the mere mention of him would somehow cause him to magically appear right before their very eyes, Lucas allowed his fingers to gingerly stroke along the rough texture of the only cast that still remained on her healing arm— due to be removed tomorrow if things went according to plan and her x-ray gave the all clear.
They weren’t back together. Not by a long shot. Skin on skin contact was still a no-no he assumed, and so this would have to suffice. “You know he’s not around anymore, right? He can’t hurt you. Plus, El’s back. We’re all gonna make sure nothing happens to you.” Could he actually follow through on that promise this time though? He’d failed her. Unsuccessful in pulling her out in time before Vecna got his ghastly claws on her. And it was all his fault. His fault that she’d ended up in this whole mess to begin with— ‘do you accept the risk?’ A question he so desperately wished he could take back. Even the attempts at consolation from the rest of the party couldn’t quell the festering shame he felt whenever he looked at Max. Useless. That’s what he was to her. What he would always be.
Eyebrows furrowing in frustration, Lucas allowed his head to drop slightly, lips thinning into a straight line as onyx orbs focused down on the patterns his fingers traced. “Things are gonna get better. So don’t give up, okay? I know that’s easier said than done, but..” Trailing off with a shake of his head, it was hard to determine whether those words were meant to soothe her or himself.
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mysticstarlightduck · 5 months ago
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New Tag Game! OC's 'Most Important' Tag!
Rules: Make a list (detailed or not!) of the most important people, events/moments, places, and anything else that shaped your characters into who they are now, describing how/why.
DISCLAIMER: The "most important" here means "most impactful" - the people, places, and events that had the biggest impact on the character's life. And that impact can be both POSITIVE or NEGATIVE!
I'll go first with the protagonist of Supernova Initiative!
Jack Tithus:
Most Important People
(Positive)
Cassiopeia Tithus (younger sister): Cassie is, by far, one of the, if not The most important person in Jack's life. Not that he consciously picks favorites, but he has devoted his entire life to keeping her safe and happy after their parents were killed by the Junction because she's the only family he has left and he promised he would protect her On another note, she is also the "heart" of the group - she's always happy, seeing the best in every situation no matter how bleak - and that optimism makes living in the bleak galaxy they live in more bearable for everyone around her.
Deimos Soll (adoptive brother): Deimos has been Jack's best friend and adoptive brother ever since the day they met when they were teens. Their bond, despite all their differences and arguments in the present, is still just as strong as it used to be in the past - as much as it is a bit awkward at times due to the time they've spent together. Deimos was the only friend his age (Jack is 25, Deimos is 26, they were 15 and 16 when they met) that Jack had for a long time, which on its own was something he was glad to have - but he legitimately became family to both Jack and Cassie. For all his stubborn faults, Deimos is fiercely loyal, and he cares a lot for the people he loves, a trait he shares with Jack as well.
Florian & Lauriel Tithus (parents): Though they were only alive for a small portion of his lifetime - mostly his childhood - they did have some considerably formative influence on his morality and good-hearted nature, as they taught him to always fight against injustice and stand up for those who need help, as well as reminded him that family is the most important thing in his life. He had a very close bond with their mother, Lauriel, who was a pilot and taught him how to fly a spaceship expertly, while Cassie bonded more with their father, who was an aspiring inventor.
(Negative)
Cethea III's mob bosses: Those guys were part of the reason why Jack's teenage years and overall life in Cethea III were so dangerous. Since Jack and his siblings were pretty much destitute after their life as they knew it came crashing down because of the Junction, they - and especially him - had to get resourceful. Jack became an errand boy and messenger for some of the low-ranking crime factions of the moon (most notably the faction known as the Onyx Strikers), in exchange for a pitiful amount of units, which - as little as it was - was still better than nothing. That's also how he got the skills he would later hone and use to become the renowned intergalactic thief, but that 'talent' came with a hefty toll.
The Director: The head of the Junctions Sciences and Bioengineering department and overall a very respected and influential politician, businessman, and public figure, the Director isn't just Jack's archnemesis throughout this story - he's also, directly, Jack's torturer, as - while the crew was begrudgingly working for the Junction- he subjected the young thief to many unethical scientific experiments. This is a source of considerable torment, distress, and overall inner conflict for Jack, as he not only has to find a way to free himself and his crew and fight against the Junction but also has to grapple with the fear that the experiments may be already changing him somehow.
Most Important Places (to his story)(:
The Junction
Cethea III
The Khosmonian Galaxies
Most Important Moments/Events:
The death of his parents, killed by the Junction after joining a local rebel effort against it;
Growing up on the crime-ridden streets of Cethea III with his siblings, and getting involved in the moon's criminal underworld;
Developing a considerable reputation and becoming an influential intergalactic thief in his early 20s;
The argument with Deimos, after which the duo (Jack & Cassie) and Deimos parted ways due to different opinions on the recently started civil war;
Being captured by the Junction along with his crew (Inciting Incident of the series!), which led him to accept a shady deal with the Director (make one final heist, this time for the Junction, not against it, in exchange for their lives);
Being forced to become one of the Director's test subjects after the man threatened to do the same to Cassie;
Freeing himself and his crew from the Junction and joining a rebel effort to stop the civil war from escalating and ending the corruption of both the Junction and the Khosmonian sides.
Anything Else That's Important:
His Crew/Friends: Jack is, first and foremost, a natural leader and a protector, who cares deeply for the people he trusts and loves. His team/crew, which is composed of his closest friends, is like a family to him - and though that friendship can at times be chaotic and strained, they're still always going to be there for each other no matter what. And that friendship is also a factor for character growth to pretty much every member of the main cast as well, including him.
Freedom: Jack values freedom in life almost more than anything - it's a close second in his list of priorities for sure - and has a very fiery personality. He despises being told what to do by people who want to control him or by those who think they're better than him or than others, and this causes him to have a very relentlessly rebellious spirit.
Tagging (gently): @littleladymab, @winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @amaiguri
@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart,
@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers
@i-can-even-burn-salad,
@lassiesandiego, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG
Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,
@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea
@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child
@thepeculiarbird
@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star
Let me know if you'd like to be added!
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virgil-isnt-a-lee · 3 months ago
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Man.. I know it's been a minute since I've done anything but occasionally reblog shit but OH. MY. STARS. it's been a very long time since I've had a lee mood this bad. AND IT'S NOT EVEN MY FAULT HOLY SHIT
Send help the lee mood absolutely melted my brain
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imbadatparking · 2 years ago
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my mother's eyes used to change color. 
as a kid, i was obsessed with them, jealous of the way the way they could be foliage green in the sun, but then change to tree trunk brown when indoors. sometimes, when the sun was setting and tangerine and peach painted the sky, they looked blue – cerulean overlapped with navy overlapped with onyx in the dark. i imagined them an ocean, a safe place to get away when it all became too much. 
i don't remember a time when she wasn't slipping away, her mind frayed at the edges the way the hem of my t-shirts did when i was younger. she seemed in a constant state of unawareness, a sort of disconnect with reality. i never understood it – maybe i was too young or too naive – but i remember feeling bitter resentment at the universe and its cruelty. the disease that took my mother away would've never shown itself if there was a god, i was convinced. i hated everything when she left us, though i was careful not to show it. i knew i was looking for a scapegoat; i knew it wasn't my grandparent's blind faith or the way my father couldn't love my mother the same way she did him, or even her biological parent's that we're at fault. i just didn't have anything else to blame. 
there was a glass ball in my chest that grew every time i thought about my mother's ashes in a cardboard box because we couldn't afford an urn. everytime i thought about my younger sister i didn't – and still don't – know even though it's been nearly five years. everytime i remember my mother laying in a hospital bed, the beeping of the breathing machine the only thing keeping her tied to earth, the only noise in that suffocating quiet. it was the only time in my memory she'd been completely still when she was alive. 
i knew what it was too, because even then, with my father's eyes and my mother dead and a faith i'd never believed in in the first place shattered, i knew. i knew she'd never be proud of what i'd done. she wasn't looking down on me because angels didn't exist, but if she was, i knew she'd be disappointed in what she saw. the glass in me shattered; it cut me up inside and tore me open and left no room for mercy. 
i thought, how unfair it is that legacies aren't chosen. i thought, how unfair it is that i might be subjected to the same fate my mother was because of genetics. i thought, me and my mother and the generations before her and the generations after me deserved better than a disease that took everything that made my mother my mother away. 
now, i am sitting on the edge of a tin roof. the night is filled with empty space and the stale sort of quiet you get when the world is quiet. the moon is out tonight, pearlescent and luminous and bathed in pale oyster light. my mother would've called it a yareakh, and i would've looked at her as she pronounced it for me carefully, like she did every full moon, because i could never quite say it right. i wish i would've known then that time was so limited and there were only so many nights i'd get to see my mother. i would've memorized her ever changing eyes – the foliage green and tree trunk brown and cerulean and navy and onyx. i would've thought of how the blues of her pupils reminded me so much of a lake and i would've thrown an anchor into them to tether her to me.
see: this post
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shvdwscng · 5 months ago
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STATUS : CLOSED ⟳ @n1ghtsongs ;; morgana
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as  the  emissary  expected,  their  guests  continued  to  avoid  those  of  her  court,  but  not  something  she  faulted  them  for  entirely.  unlike  the  rest  of  her  court,  aurora  felt  a  sense  of  compassion  for  the  rest.  it  was  unlikely  she  would  ever  forget  all  that  the  dragons  had  shown  them  of  sights  in  the  capital,  what  it  appeared  their  own  mother  had  unleashed  upon  them.  all  this  time  the  dusk  court  had  followed  their  mother,  who  had  kept  their  court  safe,  a  court  that  while  being  isolated  thrived.  the  tales  she  had  read  and  heard  of  as  a  child  lof  the  other  courts,  all  the  scriptures  their  mother  had  left  for  them,  aurora  had  entirely  devoured.  not  everything  contained  in  the  records  painted  the  rest  of  prythian  in  a  flattering  right  and  the  question  the  rang  in  her  mind  was  why  had  their  mother  not  aided  the  rest?
aurora  had  always  wished  to  travel,  to  see  what  else  was  outside  of  their  court,  the  tales  of  the  seasons  and  the  other  solar  courts  only  had  her  desire  build,  but  it  seemed  for  now,  she  would  only  have  her  fill  from  their  guests,  if  they  would  allow  her  a  chance  to  speak  to  them.  as  the  emissary,  she  had  one  sole  duty,  to  keep  the  relations  across  the  courts  well.  however,  aurora  also  desired  far  more  than  that.  it  was  just  an  hour  or  so  before  sunset,  and  she  took  vala  out  for  a  walk,  due  to  keeping  her  during  day  while  the  emissary  continued  her  task.  the  faint  sounds  of  foot  steps  that  were  not  hers  had  her  pause,  vala  pausing,  too  and  turning  its  head  in  the  direction  until  her  own  azure  gaze  landed  on  the  striking  liege  of  summer.  "easy,  vala,  they're  our  guest.  we  don't  wish  to  frighten  them."  she  murmured  top  her  winged  companion,  her  onyx dragon  continued  to  huff  but  did  settle  behind  their  master.  a  charming  smile  curved  the  emissary's  lips  as  she  look  a  steps  forward  towards  liege  morgana,  "fear  not,  she  will  not  hurt  you,  not  unless  you  pose  a  danger  to  me.  liege  morgana,  yes?"  aurora  bowed  to  the  high  liege,  "i  am,  aurora,  the  emissary  who  has  been  quite  eager  so  speak  to  many  of  you."
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laurelsofhighever · 2 years ago
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Fandom: Dragon Age: Origins Characters/pairings: Alistair x Cousland Chapter: 3/? Rating: T Warnings: None Fic Summary: The story of the Fifth Blight, in a world where Alistair was raised to royalty instead of joining the Grey Wardens.
Read it on AO3
--
Cloudreach, 9:29 Dragon
The Couslands ate breakfast together every morning, by tradition. Compared to the dinners in the great hall it was an informal event taken in the library, at a round, walnut table draped with embroidered linen, with the morning light streaming through windows that looked north over the sea. After setting the places, the servants retreated to have their own meal, and, left to the privacy of each other’s company, the family helped each other to platters of eggs, cooked meat, and fruit. The dogs – Bryce’s Mallard and Rosslyn’s Cuno, still with the gangliness of puppyhood – also had their place, tucking into their own breakfasts on leather mats laid out to save the priceless Rivaini carpets from the ravages of slobber and grease.
If not for their grand surroundings, the Laurel motifs decorating the furniture and the rich weave of their clothes, they might have been any ordinary family, with ordinary squabbles. The battle on this particular morning raged around Oren, who had inherited the strong Cousland jaw and his mother’s onyx-dark eyes. He sat high in his cushioned chair, digging through his bowl of porridge for the dried apple slices hidden in its depths and ignoring the entreaties from both his parents to behave.
“I’m three-and-a-half,” he insisted, when Oriana dipped her own spoon into the bowl to try and coax at least one proper mouthful.
Across the table, Eleanor levelled a disapproving stare at her grandson. “When your father was three-and-a-half he knew the benefit of eating everything on his plate,” she told him. “How do you think he got to be so tall?”
Oren’s eyes went wide, turning on his mother. “Is it true?”
“Yes, pequeño,” Oriana replied, ever-patient. “We want you to grow big and strong.”
“And Aunt Rosslyn too?”
Rosslyn glanced up from her book. She had taken to bringing one to breakfast in recent months to keep her own company while the rest of the family got on with their business – there was no one else to talk to, after all, and if she kept herself occupied with such volumes as The Travels of Ebullient Ser Claremore of Stannis it distracted her from the reason why misery gnawed at her like a mouse, stopped her dwelling on the fact that it was her own bloody fault no letters had come from Denerim since the Landsmeet.
“All Couslands eat their porridge,” she replied mildly. “Haelia and Mather started the tradition when they drove the werewolves out of the North.”  
A white lie, but the renowned twins, heroes even among the famed and fabled ranks of Cousland ancestors, had held Oren’s imagination like little else could since he heard the story, the illuminations in the family book weaving him tales of wild chases through the forest and daring battles waged against fang and claw.
“I wish you wouldn’t read at the table,” her mother chided, as if she had only just noticed.
“Aldous wants me to broaden my horizons.”
Her father’s eyebrow lifted, amused. “I doubt Aldous meant for your studies to get in the way of your table manners, Pup.”
“It’s not like anyone’s here,” Rosslyn pointed out. “And besides –”
The door to the library opened, cutting off the rest of her protest to admit a human page in a woollen surcoat of deep Laurel blue.
“Calmett?” Bryce turned at the intrusion.
Calmett bowed. “Forgive me, Your Lordship, but a letter just arrived by courier. I thought you’d want to read it.” He offered over a square envelope of thick, cream-coloured paper on a silver tray and Rosslyn saw the flash of a scarlet seal on the back when her father took it.
“‘To His Lordship, Bryce Cousland’,” he read.
Fergus, who was closer, peered at the direction. “That’s rather formal for Alistair.”
The air squeezed from her lungs. She did not miss the curious glance her brother sent her across the table, nor how Oriana’s brow furrowed; it would be one thing for the king to write to the teyrn himself, formal and aloof, but Alistair knew them as well as family and had long since grown out of the shrinking need to call his foster-father by his title.
Cheeks warming, she dropped her gaze to her plate of half-eaten jam toast, though not quite fast enough to avoid catching her mother’s eye. It was a steady look, a shared confidence; it reminded her of the noble’s mask she had been taught, the blank face required to stare down your worst enemy and make them flinch first. She straightened her shoulders. As her father read the letter she watched with a face of mild, polite interest, taking in the downward pull of his brows as he went on, the way the corner of his mouth flattened into the greying edges of his beard.
“Well? What does it say?” Fergus asked.
Startled, Bryce looked up. “He’s being sent to Starkhaven. From Denerim. King Cailan wishes him to be an aide to the ambassador.”
Fergus clicked his tongue. “Surely Cailan would have allowed him to travel from Highever if he had asked.”
“It isn’t for you to second-guess the king,” Bryce chided, his voice unusually severe. “There might be any number of reasons why the ship left berth at Denerim.”
For a moment, the table stewed in the tension chafing between the teyrn and his eldest child, until Fergus turned his head away with a nod and a sigh and picked up his spoon again. Unnoticed by either of them, Rosslyn frowned at the paper in her father’s hands, the guilt that churned in her stomach for driving Alistair away aclash with a growing anger at his lack of loyalty, his cowardice. Ever since he had first gone to Denerim, no correspondence had ever come back to Highever without at least a small note addressed to her. Did he think no one would notice the change? Did he fear her so much, or put such value on his injured pride that he would shield himself behind the king’s will to neglect his duty to her family?
“May I see the letter?” she asked.
Her father gave her a long look, but passed it to her all the same, as gently as if the paper itself might bite. Curbing her annoyance, she unfolded it and scanned the lines. The unmistakeable scrawl that Aldous had tried so hard to smooth out in their lessons was unchanged, the words short, signed at the bottom with a formality out of place for the person she knew. Despite this, glimmers of humour shone through the stiff, careful style, pulling a traitorous twitch from her lips as she read:
Your Lordship –
I hope you’ll forgive me for bringing you this news in a letter instead of coming to tell you in person. King Cailan has requested that I go to Starkhaven to assist the ambassador there, and since he requires no delay, I’ll be sailing from Denerim as soon as the ship is loaded and the tide is with us. It’s likely I’ll pass by Highever at the same time this letter reaches you – just in case, I’ll wave from my cabin and keep my eyes towards the castle.
If all goes well and I don’t make a complete fool of myself stepping off the ship at journey’s end, it may be some time before I can return to Ferelden, and so this is – for now – a farewell. This is a great opportunity for me to ‘cut my diplomatic teeth’, as my brother keeps on telling me, but I could not leave without at least writing to thank you for everything you have done for me. Without your kindness I don’t know where I would have been by now, but it certainly wouldn’t be here, and I will be forever grateful for that. I hope in return I’ll be able to do you proud.
In my own hand,
Alistair Theirin
It took two days for a courier to take a message from Denerim along the coast, maybe less if the relay used good horses, but half a day less still to cover the distance by water. He would be out on the open sea by now, with Ferelden a smudge of green on a distant horizon.
Starkhaven. It was a place she knew by reputation and court gossip more than anything else. Nate had spoken of it well enough since leaving to become a squire to one of the knights there, and in his own quiet way had painted a picture of exotic markets and gilded palaces merry with the splash of fountains. At least he would be a familiar face to help Alistair orient himself, such a long way away from home.
She wished he had written to her.
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aidanchaser · 1 year ago
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Read on Ao3
Song Fic set to The Butterfly Effect by FJØRA
Chapter 1/8 - Verse 1 - cocooned in your own fear
cocooned in your own fear Adrien doesn’t think this is his fault. He’s home all day and he isn’t allowed out. Of course he’s going to explore. Of course he’s going to stick his nose into places that he shouldn’t. Of course he’s going to find things that were meant to be hidden away.
If anything, it’s his father’s fault for leaving the office empty and unlocked. Adrien knows he isn’t allowed in here, but how is he supposed to resist? How is he supposed to ignore his mother’s portrait? Why wouldn’t he reach out and touch her, as if he might be able to touch some memory of her. Adrien keeps her on the background of his computer, but his father keeps a larger-than-life shrine. Of course he would be drawn to it.
The golden splendor of the portrait is cool beneath Adrien’s fingers. He feels the catch between tiles and he tilts his head in surprise. He didn’t realize this was a mosaic, didn’t realize the colors are their own pieces of glass, pieces that shift beneath his fingers.
It isn’t his fault that he finds the ones that move, that give beneath the weight of his touch.
you never were here It’s warm in the basement beneath the house. His heart pounds and his ears ring as he crosses from the elevator to the illuminated platform. The lilies grow well in the artificial light and the carefully controlled heat and humidity, and they aren’t the only life form down here.
Adrien knows, somewhere deep in his gut, what he’s going to find before he reaches the glass case at the end of the walkway. Even then, when he finally gets close enough that the white lights no longer cast a glare on the glass, when he finally catches a glimpse of her face, his breath catches in his chest.
She looks asleep. He can see no breath in her lungs nor flutter in her eyes, but her smile is soft and her skin perfectly preserved. There’s no evidence of illness, no signs of decomposition.
Adrien presses his hand to the glass. He smudges dust and dew. Breath and sobs alike catch in his chest.
His mother is here. And if he understands the purpose of the green light indicator on her glass cocoon, she’s alive.
“Maman?” he manages, voice weak and eyes burning with tears. He pushes on the glass and it gives as easily as the hidden buttons of the portrait had. With a soft hiss of pressure released, there is now nothing between him and his mother.
He holds her to his chest and his tears flow freely. “Maman, it’s me,” he whispers. “Maman, it’s me,” he cries. “Maman, it’s me,” he begs with all he has, but she is still and unmoving. As if she were dead.
Though it feels like he is breaking every bone in his body, he sets her back down in her coffin-like bed. His tears persist, even as he tries to scrub his face dry.
“Maman,” he tries again, in a final desperate whisper, but his prayer goes unheard.
He can’t bring himself to close the glass again. His vision blurs with tears until he blinks them away.
In the overhead light, something glints on her black blouse. Adrien rubs his eyes again, but the glimmer does not resolve itself into a familiar shape. It’s a brooch, he thinks, but not one he’s ever seen before. Carefully, he unpins the fan-shaped brooch from her blouse and turns it over in his hands.
The metal is cool, and the pale blue enamel is threaded with a spider web of cracks. Adrien isn’t entirely sure how the pin manages to hold itself together. It glints again, even though he isn’t tilting it in the light. The five onyx gems that rest along the edge of the brooch glimmer with an internal light, like the eyes of a peacock come alive, and a creature, painted in the deepest indigo with brilliant red eyes both on its face and on its fan-shaped tail, appears before Adrien.
you always were somewhere else As the creature spins its tale, grief gives way to anger. A new agony settles into Adrien’s chest.
When his father returns, Adrien is waiting for him in his office. He has left the golden portrait wide open and wears the peacock proudly on his breast. He crosses his arms so that his father is sure to see that Adrien now wears his mother’s wedding ring. He wants no illusions about what he knows. He will not give his father an opportunity to lie.
“Adrien, what is this?”
Adrien watches the way his father’s eyes flick around the room, putting the pieces together. “I wanted to ask you that.”
Gabriel’s voice trembles low in his throat. “Where did you find that brooch?”
“Where do you think?”
“Take it off, now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Adrien, I am only protecting you—”
But his father’s hand reaches for the wedding band he still has not removed since Emilie’s memorial service and Adrien knows he’ll never be able to believe anything Gabriel says from here on.
“Duusu,” Adrien hisses before his father can attempt to command him, “spread my feathers.”
“Adrien, don’t!”
you lose you lose all the time It’s the spare second Gabriel gives him, warning him against activating the peacock miraculous that gives Adrien the upper hand.
Adrien did not expect his father to have a miraculous of his own, did not expect Gabriel to shout, “Nooroo, dark wings, rise!” but he’s unconcerned.
While Gabriel is donning his power, Adrien has already plucked a feather from his blue and black fan, just as Duusu had instructed him, and said, “Bring my my creation to life.”
The feather falls into a sheet of paper on Gabriel’s desk. As Adrien snatches the paper in his hand, a full ream springs to life and take a human-esque shape. It rushes at Gabriel, ignorant of the violet suit he is now cloaked in and the black cane with an amethyst head. Gabriel swipes the cane at the animated papers, but it only distorts the sentimonster’s form for a moment.
The paper leaps at Gabriel, lunging into him, smothering him the way Adrien has always felt smothered in this house.
Though the blue double-breasted suit of his transformation ought to be tight and restricting, it moves with Adrien as smoothly as liquid. He steps forward, and the paper parts for him. Adrien reaches for his father’s hand, even as Gabriel attempts to claw the paper from his face. Adrien’s focus is solely on the silver wedding band, and he fails to see the lavender butterfly that flits through the gaps between the animated papers and lands on the fan in Adrien’s hand.
“Listen to me,” his father’s voice echoes in his head, and all of Adrien’s grief and anguish seems to double.
“I’ve done nothing but listen! For fourteen years I’ve had no choice but to listen,” Adrien snarls back. His grief feels powerful. He clutches at it desperately, drawing it deeper into his chest.
“We can bring her back. With the power of the cat and ladybug miraculouses, we can bring her back. If you’d just listen—”
But Adrien is done listening. His head pounds as he tries to both claim this new power and reject his father’s offer. The magic does not seem interested in helping him without his father’s consent, but Adrien doesn’t care about what his father wants. It’s Adrien’s turn to decide what he wants.
With a shout, he reaches through the monstrous ream of papers, unbothered by the papercuts that tear through his magically constructed gloves. He grabs the butterfly-shaped brooch at his father’s throat. Gabriel grabs Adrien’s wrist. Adrien casts aside his fan and wrestles both brooch and ring from his father.
you never could shine you wish you could fly away Gabriel falls to the floor as the magic falls from his body. The paper continues to smother him, and its thin edges tear at his hands and cheeks.
“Adrien, stop this,” he says, voice as desperate as Adrien’s had been at his mother’s bedside.
But Adrien pins the butterfly brooch to his chest beside the peacock and studies the lavender kwami that appears before him. The butterfly that had flown into him, still charged with his father’s magic, flits around the room in search of a host. It seems undecided between Adrien’s grief and Gabriel’s desperation, something Adrien can now feel for himself, the way he knows the mind of his sentimonster, the way he can sense the feather split between his parents’ wedding rings.
He slides his father’s wedding band on top of his mother’s. He feels whole for a brief moment before something in his chest cracks. He grimaces through gritted teeth and sinks to one knee. The paper flutters weakly and swirls, but seems directionless, without target.
Gabriel takes the opportunity to sit up. “Adrien—”
But Adrien picks up the fan and holds it out at his father in a warning. The paper reforms with intention, even as Adrien clutches his chest.
“Adrien, this will kill you.”
Adrien’s upper lip curls, revealing his clenched teeth. “It can’t kill me,” he spits out, “if I’m not alive to begin with.”
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ilbound · 7 months ago
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@drippingheart has requested a story : The flower crown was long tossed to the ground; the pollinators would treat it with more kindness than Megumi ever could. Hands busied themselves with the lint inside the pockets of the oversized hoodie he donned. It was strange that a such a stupid little action was both a comfort call-back to childhood while being completely annoying. The teenager already began the process of picking the onyx fibres from beneath cracked fingernails.   ❛ Do you ever cry . . seeing so many people you talk to and make friends with die?  ❜  
Would Kaen even feel the slightest hint of melancholy when Megumi died? Megumi barely mattered when it came to the sorcerers he interacted on a regular basis; why would he matter to an entity who lived countless lives? He never could understand why people wanted to live forever. Naturally, the irrational desire was born out of the fear of the death, of the unknown, yet eternal life sounded absolutely dreadful to him. Lonely. Pointless.
𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.
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Ah , what insolent youth ( woe , gone are the days ) .  There was a time , once , when the offense of casting off an offering from THE IMMACULATE itself would have dropped jaws , raised brows , clutched pearls ; altogether considered b l a s p h e m o u s in nature to dismiss a god-given gift , no matter how insulting to own existence.  But that was many ages ago , and Kaëltyr was notorious for making exceptions ( perhaps one too many in recent years ) .  Megumi was just such someone whom held their favor , so his disregard did not wound them anymore than did his usual abrasive disposition.  If anything , it made for an a m u s i n g occasion ( & he did humor them for all of a few moments , indulging them just long enough to appease the great entity’s childish whims ) .  No doubt there shall come others , this creature may be virtuous in nature but such did not stop them from being QUITE A MENACE to those they liked ( never ill-intentioned , of course , it may be a curse but kaëltyr’s mischief was simply thus ; a play , a whimsy ) .
Besides , now they had EVIDENCE of the whole debacle !  They held claim to a silly little photo on their phone ( one they swore never to show anyone else ) .  It was , in truth , more of keep-sake for themself than for another anyhow ; the curse oft’ made for a selfish sort when it came to m e m o r i e s .
As they sit together there in the wood , Kaen reclines back against the rough-hewn bend of a tree trunk , relaxed in the teen’s presence and unconcerned for the rest of the world continuing to turn around them in all its ever-miserable chaos.  But amid it , stands Megumi – their friend , their so-called big brother – in all his own harrowed glory.  Kaen is not at all oblivious to the energy he possesses ( & never has been ) ; the shadows which so become him , the immense negativity he exudes harkening them like open wound to starving predator in waiting.  Lucky that he has managed to earn t h e i r company and not that of a curse less controlled , less stable.
His question is warranted , and not one unfamiliar ( but it remains as one they loathe to answer ) .  Kaen sighs heavily , dropping pretense as they speak , their tone taking on a more mannered , more r e s o n a t e quality which seizes the wood to still and silence , ❝ Would y'doubt that I do ? ❞  They ask in return , ❝ Since the beginning , I’ve always felt so deeply rooted with others. I didn't lie about that.  I sought the company of humanity for thousands of lifetimes over , and even more did I experience what it was like t'see friends and lovers die. ❞  A beat.  Kaen turns , looking over at the teen , expression somber.  ❝ Every loss , Megumi , I remember.  Every loss , I’ve been wounded by , even if not my own fault.  M'heart breaks each time.  Sorrow , death , destruction – these , all bedfellows to me.  And yes , I’ve c r i e d over people before.  And will likely do so again.  I hold no shame for that.  Jus' as I’ll hold no shame for grieving the loss of your life when it inevitably comes. ❞
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heyitslapis · 2 years ago
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what sort of gemsona would you assign me 🙈
HULLO! OMG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS OPPORTUNITY *cracks knuckles*
***Long post warning, lots of info-dumping ahead. TL;DR answers at the bottom
I have SEVERAL ideas, so at least you have plenty of options/inspiration! I'll include both the gem itself along with any appearances that are canon to SU to give you reference. We'll start where I feel like a lot of people (myself included) start: with your birthstone(s), Ruby & Onyx!
July birthstones are traditionally Ruby, but these days most months have a 2nd stone. So you could choose traditional Ruby or the newer Onyx! (unfortunately there are no canon Onyxes in SU that I'm aware of) Rubies in-show are common soldiers used as a lighter personal guard or for quick low-level missions. They're short, coming in at around 4ft tall. Their personalities vary, but some traits we see repeatedly in the show are that Rubies get distracted easy, are often forgetful, fairly naive/easily deceived, stubborn, rowdy, goofy, a bit hot-headed & loyal to a fault! The Rubies below are all wearing similar/same Homeworld uniforms, but even so you can tell all of them apart, either by gem placement, certain accessories, variants in their outfits/hair color/skin color, or by their personalities!
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Next are gems that have canon concepts/appearances that fit your vibe: Starting out strong with Sapphire!
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Sapphires are what we would consider Royalty & closely resemble Princesses. They're one of Homeworld's Aristocratic Gem types, used mainly for diplomatic affairs or for their Future Vision, an ability that allows them to see the most probable outcome of a situation. As far as I know, its assumed that all Sapphires have this foresight, but it can vary, like how Padparadscha can only see what was, not what will be (though her variance is caused by being off-color, a term used to describe Gems that differ from the Mould Homeworld has for them). Sapphires are the same height as Rubies (around 4ft) & personality-wise tend to be more reserved, quiet, thoughtful, introspective & have a diplomatic way of looking at things. They tend to be more compassionate than most Gems of their status & their Future Vision helps them easily draw conclusions or make plans/decisions.
Morganite:
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Not much is know about Morganite in-universe, since she never had a canon appearance beside her concepts in the art book. The little bit we do know about Morganite is that she was the Owner of the Ruby & Pearl that make Rhodonite, & her role on Homeworld is being a designer for the Diamonds' palanquins. Morganites are assumed to be high status Gems, like Sapphires & Aquamarines, on account of the Morganite above owning a Pearl & having her own personal guard (both signs of high status on Homeworld). Based on the concept art, her height would be just above that of a Ruby or Sapphire ( probably around 4'6"-5'0" ft). Fun fact: irl Morganites, Aquamarines & Emeralds are just a few of the handful of gems that are part of the Beryl family!
Speaking of, the next Gem on my list for you is: Pearls!
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Pearls are considered status symbols on Homeworld. Only Gems of a high Aristocratic status own Pearls, like Morganites & Diamonds. Though it's assumed that Pearls may also be gifted to a Gem that performs exceptionally well or accomplishes great feats for the Diamonds. The Pearl will typically be customized by or for the Gem she's being made for, either mirroring her owner's appearance or matching their aesthetic in some way. This is done in the Reef, a Pearl production center owned by White Diamond. Pearls are known to entertain by either singing or dancing for other Gems, and will typically hold items for their master by storing said items in the pocket dimension inside their gemstone, as well as provide other forms of utility or assistance for their owners (like if unpaid interns were immortal). It's assumed Pearls stand at around 6'0"-6'6" feet tall & are always portrayed with a slender or lanky body type. Pearls are refined, elegant, graceful (usually), intelligent, determined, dedicated, handy & can almost easily pick up any skill/hobby. Pearls all seem to have distinct personalities, but share many of the same traits listed above.
Lapis Lazuli (one of my personal faves):
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Lapis Lazulis are used as terraformers sent from planet to planet by Homeworld during early stages of colonization to rebuild planets to be ideal for Gems to inhabit. Not much is know about their societal status, but they're very powerful Gems for how small their frame is. Lazulis are shown as shorter than Pearls but taller than Rubies, so they're presumable around 5'5"-6'0" tall. Personalities vary, but the few that we've seen have consistent traits of; stubbornness, being somewhat reserved, self-assured/confident, determination, fighting spirits, no-nonsense (at least at first impression) & can be judgy, but are also whimsical & friendly once they warm up. Their main abilities are flying with water wings that they make, hydrokinesis, & the ability to make ice.
An honorable mention of this category: Moonstone
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Very little is known about Moonstones- even less than we know about Morganites -as all we have to reference her is the two photos above. The one thing we do know is that Moonstones have invisibility. These Gems are smaller in stature, but approximate height is unknown. This one makes me think of you based on the irl stone more than the SU version, but its in this category since there is visual canon references.
Lastly, there are a few stones that I associate with you just based on your personality & overall vibe. When I think of stones that are "you", these also come to mind! We have;
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Opal (left)! Fascinating, colorful, a unique stone that is dazzling, stands out from most other stones & gives a fantasy/otherworldly vibe. The only canon Opal is a fusion, but we've learned that in-universe there are stand-alone Gems as well as the fusions (since fusions name themselves, they're not actually related to the stand-alone Gems)
Moldavite (right)! Gets a bad rap, is actually a really nice stone! Very unique in formation & the earthy dark green reminds me of you! To me, instead of cottage-core earthy vibes, Moldavite is more witchy, forest sorceress vibes.
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Moss Agate/Tree Agate (respectively). Agates in-universe are typically big buff Gems, standing between 7-9ft tall. They're typically soldiers, guards, protective escorts or sent on missions that require lots of muscle. The SU Agate body type/personality may not fit you, but the stones above remind me of you because of the earthy/foresty aesthetic!
Lastly, one that I think of when I think of Gemsonas for you is Angelite! Mostly because of the angelic, ethereal feminine vibe I get from this stone.
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As promised, the TL;DR: If you were to ask my humble & professional opinion as someone who loves rocks & loves Steven Universe, my personal opinions on stones that would suit you best for a potential Gemsona (out of the 13 I listed) are; Moonstone, Pearl, Morganite, Angelite, Lapis Lazuli, or Opal.
Don't let my opinion sway you on what you want the most though! And don't let the canon designs deter you from choosing one that really speaks to you! Many people's FanGems look completely different from the canon versions. Same goes for what the Gem's job is or what their personality is like. At the end of the day, a Gemsona/Gem OC is yours to play around with, & with that you have the freedom to do whatever you want with them forever!
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