#life is so worth living when amongst such individuals

[johannestevans]

favourite thing i heard tonight was a queen i was chatting to seeing some random beefcake with dark hair and sunglasses walk into the bar, stare at him for several moments, and say, "you know, i don't normally like it. but i think that i should let him bum me"

and he was right!

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Many, many thanks to all of you who participated in Elder Cats Appreciation Week! I cannot express the extent of my appreciation for those of you who participated, both big and small, every day or just one or two. It was wonderful to see a variety of new content and positivity for the older cats, and look at all the different ways you all contributed. This was so much fun and I hope to do this again sometime in the future!

I do encourage you that, in spite of the appreciation week being over, to continue playing with these characters and including them in your stories and HCs and fun - to reflect on why they are often left out/reduced to singular and otherwise flat roles/antagonized either due to their inherent age, or argued younger because they’re more “well liked” over others.  At the end of the day, the goal of this week was to shed some light and appreciation on characters that are often neglected in fandom, and the best way to continue that work is to open yourself further to those you may not otherwise consider. Even just a little bit. That’s how we continue to broaden our horizons.

Happy days to all <3

[quasi-normalcy]

I know that this is the "Turning social problems into matters of individual virtue" website, but here's one change that you can make to yourself as an individual that I honestly think will have beneficial collective effects:

Stop Thinking You're Better Than Other People.

Do I mean that you should go through life thinking that you're the lowliest and most wretched scum who's ever lived? No. I mean that there exists no meaningful criterion by which one human being can be said to be absolutely 'better' than another. And even if there was, you don't know enough about other people's circumstances and interior thoughts to meaningfully judge them in these absolute terms. So don't even try! It's a futile endeavour.

"But what about fascists? Surely I'm better than them!"

Okay, so let me preface this by saying that fascists are dangerous, they're misguided, their acts and intentions are evil, and they need to be stopped, including through physical violence. But you're not better than them. I know that this is a difficult pill to swallow; I myself used to pat myself used to pat myself on the back because, well, at least I wouldn't have been a Nazi. But you know what? If the circumstances were right, I could have been. We all could have been, just as we all could have joined a cult at some point.

Looking at myself, for example: there was never any serious possibility that I could have been swept up into the alt-right movement. Why? Because I'm transgender, and I was raised to be a socialist. How easy it is to *not* become a fascist when you're one of their scapegoats! How much harder it would be to avoid if you're one of the people they flatter and groom, if you're raised by people who are sympathetic to fascist ideals, if you grow up in a community where such ideals are common! The fact that fascist movements can seemingly emerge amongst every nation and people--including those who have historically been victims of fascism--confirms this. What if I had lived a hundred years later, at a time when transgenderism was a complete non-issue, and they'd moved on to some new scapegoat? What if they had approached me on my absolute worst day and told me that all of my problems were caused by moochers and parasites, and that I could fight back and claim my birth right by joining them? Can I really say that I wouldn't? Can anyone?

But even beyond that, what is a fascist but the ultimate example of someone who needs to feel superior to others? What is scapegoating but the act of selecting an entire group of people and declaring them to be inferior to you? And if you just refuse to believe these things; if you refuse to accept the premise that some people are better than others, and call it out whenever it comes up; then you're cutting these movements off at knees! The ideological force of fascism comes from imagining humanity as a strict hierarchy, with the master race on top and the degenerates on the bottom. Simply refuse to believe in such a hierarchy! Refuse to even entertain it!

"But then how can I feel self-esteem? How can I feel that I matter and have value?"

You have value just by existing as a person! But if that's not enough for you, then try this: instead of trying to increase your sense of self-worth by finding people to feel superior to, increase it by being of value to others. Help them! Make their lives better! Contribute to society! Not even in a way that you can (necessarily) put a dollar value on, but in any way you can! Create art! Plant a pollinator garden! Tell a joke! Make someone happy! If nothing else, you can at least give someone love, and I guarantee you that that will be of value to them. The universe is so vast and we're all so small that any value we can ever have will only ever be to each other. And surely it beats spending your life trying to be king of the microbes.

[just-some-user-hunny]

Vampire hunter D

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ . 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒎 𝒂 𝒅𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 ✧ vampire hunter D x reader

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚D is a lonesome creature. His existence a barren sand-timer. Nothing lost and nothing gained. He's not keen to capture the eyes of humans- his years of existence proving to him over and over again that attachments are sentimental and brief. It's not worth the ache. However he finds himself contemplating whenever his eyes find your figure.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚He's very quiet and contemplative. He seems to be in his head a lot, often caught in a spiral of overthinking. His company is often silent- always playing the part of the listener, and not the talker. It's a role he's always found himself slipping into with ease- and with you, it's more than natural. Hes guilty of admitting he likes the sound of your voice. He'd listen to it for eternity if he could. You never know though, often missing the softness in his eyes and how gently he treats you.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚D is a rather nonchalant and solemn individual. He keeps his head lowered and eyes ahead focused on his job, and has very strong opinions and ethics around vampires and humans (including himself). His loathe and distrust for the immortal creatures always keep him on edge- and trapped within himself when it comes to you. He couldn't turn you. That would be out of the question- he'd have you for eternity, yes, but at such a cost? There is no way he'd allow that. He'd never want you to bear the suffering of becoming a no-life creature. Always cold...always hungry. The least he can do is ensure you live a long happy life where you are loved and safe- even if it means the cost of becoming alone again, it's something he'd risk.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚Very very lonely. Keeps the world at an arms length, he seldom sticks around because he's not keen on making attachments to people. He keeps himself lonely to save himself from the inevitable pain of being left behind. So when he comes across something precious like you who manages to stir these troublesome emotions within him, it's an internal battle for him. The parasite is always the one to air out his dirty laundry- you can't stand being in love with her, can't you D? Oh this is tearing you up inside huh pretty boy? Can't look away, but can't bear to watch either. Tut tut.

.‧ ₊ ⊹˚Pushes and overworks himself a lot. (His odd parasite thingy is always scolding him to take care of his body better). You'll probably find yourself reminding him to take a break and rest now and then, just to save him from overexerting himself again and collapsing. The first time you saw him smile was when you stood upon your toes to shield him beneath your parasol during a walk together. It was faint- subtle and gentle, but it was there. He's secretly very thankful that you are so caring towards him. He doesn't feel so deserving.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚ He's very respectful and gentle with you. It's rather unbelievable to see such a mysterious and ethereal creature that seemed to teeter upon the blade's edge of beauty and horror be so careful with you. Opening doors, shielding you from the rain with his cape, holding your things for you if you were to ever ask, walking you home to ensure your safety- even carry you upon his back or lifting you upon his horse if you are ever injured are all friendly and helpful things he'd probably not bother to follow through with anyone else. He's not cruel or unkind- just distant. So him allowing himself to do such intimate things in his eyes is a big deal. His voice is so so soft and solemn when he speaks to you- sharing whispered secrets and oaths late at night amongst the crackle of fire and chirping of crickets. Things he's never uttered before, not that you know of course.

.‧ ₊ ⊹˚He's a gentle creature to you. Soft gazes that linger too long for his own comfort, and yet he cannot bear to look away. You're haunting him, day and night. Often every waking moment is occupied with your existence, the constant leering and scolding of the parasite hissing and whispering into his ear. Worming into his consciousness, seeing everything.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚You best believe him and the parasite are always bickering. Poor D is often the ongoing victim of teasing and berating. Hissing and muttering under his breath, casting his gaze away from yours.

."Here you go again D, wanting something you can't have- mpfth!"

. He'll clench his fist tight, till his knuckles ached and turned bone white. Troubled... And irked.

. "You are to be kept out of this". He'll warn, his tone soft yet final. Unwavering as the parasite utters a muffled croaky crackle. Oh he does enjoy getting under his skin like this- and it seems he's found a sensitive spot. You.

.‧ ₊ ⊹˚He's unfamiliar with the attachment taking him this strongly. So... Latching. Surely he's come and gone from the delicate mortal loves that he's come across throughout his existence, and although their faded memories still linger like mist- he can't seem to unlatch himself off you. He needs you he can't have you.

Whenever he looks at you, his eyes are always full of melancholy. Like you have already left his life, his heart guarding itself from the inevitable occurrence of your loss. He's trying to confront these feelings early on to numb the pain later on. Please don't bring up the times where he has ever so softly stroked your face whilst you were supposedly fast asleep, or how you do notice his constant stares. He hides his embarrassment well but please spare him. Let him have this little thing for himself whilst he can.

‧ ₊ ⊹˚Overall, you'll have a very broody yet gentle dhampir looking after you for a while yet. He cares for you deeply, so deeply you may not even be able to fathom it with your mortal soul- regardless of his cool sullen gazes and soft slow actions, but you are precious to him. Enjoy your mysterious bodyguard for life!

[schoenht]

↳ dust of the stars in their eyes

character: lilia vanrouge

synopsis: cinderella au (the musical version)

a/n: TO MY BELOVEDEST @linabirb I HAVE FINISHED PART ONE OF YOUR LATE BDAY PRESENT </3 ILY LOTS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY !!! I'LL BE WRITING PART TWO VERY SOON I'VE BEEN SUPER EXCITED TO WRITE THIS SINCE I'VE BEEN OVER THERE

No one truly understood the woes of being the prince with pressures of becoming the next king. All the kingly duties and having to uphold the kingly stature when Lilia Vanrouge only wanted to slide across halls in his socks with his advisors, who joined a lot of the time. The loss of himself when he thought too much about who he was. On the surface, he was the prince, but deep down? He couldn't fathom understanding himself past the fun times that he granted himself. Slaying dragons, sliding across the halls, that was what created a life supposedly worth living for him.

Today, however, did not follow the usual exciting schedule.

Kalim walked in with a scroll in his hand. "Your Majesticness, we have to fulfill your father's wishes!"

Lilia smiled, an elfish grin that made him look so innocent when it was not-so-secretly full of mischief. "Which wish? The one where you and Cater dangle me from the ceiling as we pretend to be thieves taking the crown?"

The white haired male knew exactly what he was talking about. Their plans were jubilant, if not occasionally lethal at times. But Lilia seemed to always get back up after falling from several feet high. After all, he was a fae and fae were known for their antics. Kalim shook his head, unfurling a ridiculously long scroll that only said a few words in bright green ink and outrageously enormous letters. "Lilia, get married NOW."

What a bunch of poppycock, Lilia thought. His father had always been protective of him since he was young, and somehow, he had also been trying to set him up with several princesses. The princess he used to be betrothed to when he was a small fae had escaped when she was just 10, deciding to be raised by nuns. He was stunned to find out that when he was born, he was already engaged for some sort of power. Afterwards, his father believed he could court someone on his own.

He could not.

Kalim scrambled to pick the long scroll up and made it into a pile as he glanced at the prince. "My lord? You must find someone."

The prince knew it was time. "What do you suggest?"

"I have an idea~!" The singsong voice of his other advisor came through the halls as he took a singular selfie of himself and made his phone disappear into his pocket. Lord Cater, who was somehow the wisest one amongst the three of them when it came to a situation such as this one, had one of those signature Cater beams, the ones that could relax anyone because he had a plan.

Curious, Lilia slightly leaned forward. "What is your idea?"

"We host a ball! And if you meet the person you like there, we did it, you can get married!"

"That seems a bit unorthodox--"

Cater didn't want to hear it and refused to. "Just think about it, Your Gracefulness, a romantic night sky, candles...maybe even some flames."

"Flames?"

"Of love, of course! Not pyrotechnics." Cater glanced at Kalim, shaking his head. "That means no fireworks, Kalim."

"Awww."

Lilia tilted his head a little. Perhaps it was a good idea to receive guests into his castle, to see who could potentially be the next person at his side to hold a crown on their head. It did not have to be something so overly dramatic as Cater was implying, yet Lilia liked to have that dramatic flair. And a ball was as dramatic one can get. Not to mention, it would slowly quell the murmurs of an uprising advocated by the impoverished individuals in his kingdom. He would feed them and ensure that they got a pleasant night. And so, he agreed.

With his permission, Cater was sent to the kingdom to make an announcement. The day was blistering hot, and yet the town was bustling. He could see people hurrying to get the best purchases in the market; children laughing as they kicked a bright green ball around on the gray cobblestones; couples occasionally stopping at the old and unstable fountain in the middle of the square to share the toss of a coin, hushed wishes made about their relationship lasting until the finality of time; vendors shouting at the top of their lungs their best offers on their wares, hoping to outdo their fellow sellers and perhaps obtain a bit more money this time around.

A flash of excitement came over him and he slowly rose on a barrel full of old clothes, according to the label. The bell in his hand commanded for attention from the people and sure enough, the eyes of the public were on him. "The prince is giving a ball! The prince is giving a ball! Hear ye, hear ye, a ball and that's not all! His Royal Highness, Lilia Vanrouge, is giving a ball!"

The repetition of his words quickly got the attention of several individuals, murmuring and as if Cater was a magnet, they were drawn to him to listen further. "He's giving a ball?" "Impossible, the prince has never given a ball in his lifetime." "Oh, shut it, I want to hear!" "I can't see!"

The ginger grinned, knowing he had the attention of more people and as a crowd formed, he knew he had one shot at this. For Lilia and above all, for his paycheck. And his friendship with Lilia, of course. Clearing his throat, he spoke with regality as he brought out shiny, crisp cream envelopes with the famous wax seal on it. Everyone knew it was the royal seal. "His Royal Highness, Lilia Vanrouge, has this decree: To attend the ball, all one requires is an invitation and suitably fashionable attire, and the prince will choose someone from the ball to be his future partner. That means anyone can be the next royal."

In the crowd, swallowed up by other excited people, you listened with intent, eyes filled with a wistfulness to be able to join such a celebration with high stakes. Living in your position was not easy and perhaps, with luck, you could be the one chosen for the place at Prince Lilia's side. Your thoughts been filled with wishes and wants that had replaced your previous ones. Now there was one that was at the center of it all: you wished you were one of the lucky people with an invitation to the ball.

The crowd dispersed and it left you alone in the square as the vendors packed up to go home after a long day of work. You sat on the fountain, careful not to sit in the one crack that made it more unstable, daydreaming about what it would be like to be in the royal palace. You sigh softly as you talk out loud, dreaming up scenarios of what would happen. But you know it wouldn't and your voice trails off.

Out of nowhere comes the old man that listens to you speak all the time, speaking his gibberish. "All the wishes in the world are poppycock and twaddle!"

"Oh, Crazy Sam, are you mocking me with your gibberish?"

"Yes. All the dreamers in the world are dizzy in the noodle!" The man grinned, his magenta eyes hiding a secret as he listens to your wish about wanting to see the prince in person, to talk to him about what life in his kingdom was really like. With a hum, he teases, "And then to have him fall in love with you?"

You shake your head. No. You didn't want that for you, you wanted the prince to realize that his kingdom was a place that needed to be fixed as efficiently as possible. "Why did you come to visit me?"

"I just knew I would find in the same fountain, in the same part, on the cliff of a foolish dream."

For once, Crazy Sam wasn't crazy. He was right and you agreed begrudgingly. "Maybe I am being foolish."

"Then be foolish with me. What would you dream of?" His smile was reminiscent to that of someone who was the messenger for a surprise party. When he heard your dream of getting an invitation to the ball, he pulled out a cream colored envelope. It was a bit ripped from being run over in the stampede of the crowd as they left. "Here. There's an invitation. It isn't perfect, just go. What else would you dream of?"

Your heart lifted in hope as you spoke about silks and such for your outfit that you so desired for. But then you got realistic. "How would I get to the ball?"

He smiled. "See that pumpkin over there? I'll turn it into a golden carriage."

"And horses?"

"Those mice in that cage." He nodded at the mice trapped in a cage, almost a metaphor for your life was. "And a fox as a footman and a raccoon as a driver."

You could almost burst out laughing. This was so ridiculous and improbable. "In order to do that, you'd have to be a fairy godmother. Or godfather."

Crazy Sam raised an eyebrow and suddenly it felt as if the energy shifted between you both. In the same way a magical girl transformation would happen, it seemed like Sam glowed for a second and he changed from an old man with a hunched back to a man with a top hat that could stand up straight and dance. He had a cane in his hand, markings all around him and eyes that no longer hid their mischief and whimsy. Sam had hidden this secret from you all along. He laughed, doing a small turn. "Much better, don't you think?"

Your jaw was on the floor. You had just seen one of your only friends go from an old person into what seemed to be a magical being. "Sam! Are you...really my fairy godfother?"

Sam kept a beam on his face. "But of course! Actually, I'm everyone's fairy godfather, but you're the only one who has treated me with kindness and generosity. Now, I must make all the dreams we talked about come true."

"But that's so improbable, implausible! You could even say that it's impossible!"

With a regal huff, Sam shook his head, spinning his cane in his hand as he led you away from the town square into the edge of the woods. "Impossible? For a pumpkin to become a carriage? Four white mice becoming horses! Ha! The world is full of fools, who believe too much in their strict, invulnerable rules. Impossible things keep happening every day."

Truly, your eyes were deceiving you. You stared at Sam, thinking that he was out of his mind completely. "That's out of the question!"

"Is it?"

You nodded your head, your hands moving in front of you as if trying to emphasize your point. "Unattainable."

"Hmm, do you believe that?"

"Unimaginable..."

"Unimaginable..." Sam grinned as he parroted what you said.

You sputtered, "But you were just a beggar man a couple of moments ago and now you're my fairy godfather? Does that mean that anything is obtainable?"

"Of course." The man listened to you as you spoke, elated at the fact that maybe, just maybe, he could fix everything. He could fix all that caused you troubles. "No, but you can. You can make it all happen."

"I couldn't!" At your words, Sam mocked you a bit, "I couldn't, it's all so impossible--No, it isn't. Look at me, look at your invitation. I'll even give you proof."

His cane glowed as transformations began, suitable for that of a princess. The silliness of earlier became a reality as your dreams seemed to be closer and closer in your grasp. The pumpkin became a gorgeous white carriage, made out of a material that seemed to be made out of porcelain. It was ornate, decorated with gold linings and shining jewels on the swirling wheels. Under the sunset, it shimmered in the dazzling lotus pinks and poppy oranges of the sky.

Next were the raccoon and fox. They turned into grown men, with no idea as to how they could only walk on their hind feet and had fingers with actual human skin. They slowly stumbled to their positions by the carriage as commanded by the person who made them into something else. Another tap of the floor by Sam's cane and out popped the mice into horses, snuffling at the floor.

Finally, he turned to you. He caused you to float and spin and soon, you were transformed into the most gorgeous attire that you could ever even think of wearing. A gasp fell from your lips. "It's the most beautiful outfit I've ever seen in the land!"

He smiled not unkindly. "I will have to warn you, however, this spell only lasts until midnight. By that time, everything will go back to its normal state of being and so will you. Now go, go with the promise of possibility!"

With your heart beating faster and faster at the prospect of going to the ball that seemed as though any laws abiding by the fabric of the universe could now be ripped to shreds, your carriage raced through the night. The world seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for you to finally step out and complete the puzzle of the idyllic night that was to come. Perhaps it was the joy of the moment that made you forget the midnight rule for now. After all, the plush fabric beneath you was more luxurious than any material belonging to your household. It was a dream that one would never wish to wake up from.

Arriving at the palace, it seemed as though you had stepped into another universe entirely. The palace was looming over you with its bright white ivory walls, shiny glass windows that prohibited a speck of dust to even land on it, perfectly polished doors with guards in armor, checking every guest for invitations as they walked in. Your carriage pulled itself aside, allowing you to step down from it. As the last person to arrive, it would be quite difficult to not notice you.

And that is exactly what happened to Lilia when he merely glimpsed at you, only to do a double take. In all his years of living, he had never seen a star up close, and yet here you were, dazzling without even attempting. It was a bit cute to him to see that you were standoffish, perhaps a bit shy. He made a choice to introduce himself as he walked over, bowing. "Good evening. I am Prince Lilia. How do you do?"

You couldn't believe your ears. The prince himself had walked over to you, even though you were late and completely alone. You also bowed as you introduced yourself to him. You studied him for a second and you saw that for a prince, he did not appear like one. Black hair with pink highlights in an asymmetrical haircut with tiny wisps on the sides of his head, reminding you of bat wings. Those red eyes full of roguery and the smile that showed who he was beyond being a prince.

"May I have this dance?" Lilia asked as a new soft ballad was being played in the background.

Taking his extended hand, you began to dance with him. It was awkward at first since you were not a professional in ballroom dancing and it was not something that was taught to you in your household. Waltzing through the ballroom quietly, but it was somehow a comfortable silence as you swayed back and forth with him. He didn't mind when you stepped on his shoes at all, he was fond of your inexperience. Oh, the thrill of possibly finding someone that he would adore, that made him refuse to come down to Earth again.

The waltz transformed into something slightly more upbeat, involving everyone. You did not know any of this synchronized dancing, only following through the motions. It was certainly overwhelming. Lilia saw that and he swiftly weaved through the other dancers to get to you, taking you away from everyone else. You may be in the center, but no one else would lay a hand on you as long as the prince decided that he would dance with you and you alone. The melody began to slow down slightly and began once again.

Time seemed to move slowly with him before you were matching the pace of the upbeat melody. It was quickening with every note until it reached its crescendo and suddenly it felt like you were floating. You were floating when you looked down at the floor. Lilia winked a bit. "I decided to switch it up this time instead of me floating."

He twirled with you around the room, everyone else enjoying their similar dances with their own partners as the music blared loudly from the area where the musicians remained. It began to quiet down before rising up again in its notes. As Lilia stared at you, he only thought that angels had to be real, for they lived in your eyes. He shook his head, getting that out of his head and smiling once more at you. "I would love to continue dancing with you, if you'd allow it."

"Oh, I would love to--"

Suddenly, everything snapped to reality as you took a brief look at the massive clock behind him. With a gasp, you realized it was late. You needed to go. "I am so sorry, but I have to go."

His surprise made you land on the floor as you ran through the crowd, a good amount of them a bit outraged and peeved at this inconvenience. "Wait! Please!"

You didn't listen. You made it up the stairs, breathing heavily and then moved to run downstairs. Your shoe fell from you but you ignored it. It was 3 minutes to midnight. If you didn't race out of there, everyone would find out who you were, especially your stepmother. It would not be a pretty sight to see.

As you hurried and pushed past Lilia's cries for you to stop in your tracks, the footman opened the door instantly and when you dove in, the carriage was off. What once seemed like a smooth ride on the way to the castle only seemed like a bumpy, hectic ride back home.

Meanwhile, Lilia was at the top of the stairs, watching you go. "How will I find you?!"

Then, there was the answer: the shoe.

He stared down at it and back up at the sky. The stars seemed to dim without you serving as their foreground.

The prince moved inside to his office, where Kalim and Cater were. "We need to find this person, immediately!"

They looked at each other before Cater spoke up, "Sir, that is a shoe."

"It will guide me to them!"

Kalim tilted his head but believed it. "Okay. Well, we can hold a banquet next!"

Lilia's eyes went wide. "Yes. Yes! That is what we will do tomorrow night. I will find them as soon as possible and we will do what my father said so that he can stop spinning in his grave. I am positive he has burrowed his way halfway to the inner core of the planet."

With a plan in mind, he knew what he would have to do next. He wouldn't stop until he found a satisfying ending. And it helped that Kalim and Cater were most definitely encouraging his delusions of grandeur, even if they were not delusions to him. They would become a reality.

[midnight-bay-if]

im thirsting for angst right now.. if mc were to die, how long would it take for the ros to get over it (if they ever would)? would they still keep living their lives as it is?

(Oh, my heart... okay, let's give this a try.)

S: S would throw themselves even more readily into their work, to the detriment of all else. Especially themselves. Rain and Taj had better stick close because that connection will be all that saves them from themselves. S hadn't been very interested in romance before you. So now you are gone, absolutely not. Eventually, they will find a healthier balance again. For Rain and Taj's sake, if nothing else. They still rely on S, after all. But they will never forget.

Rain: Rain would be devastated over the loss, but it's a pain they know well. They have already carried it with them for so long. They didn't believe that if it happened again, they would survive under its crushing weight. But S and Taj help carry some of the weight so they can at least breathe. It would take many, many years for Rain to consider opening their heart once more, but pixies live a long time. Eventually, it would be possible for them to heal.

Taj: Those that stand in Taj's way had better watch out. If people believed Taj unpleasant before, it was unmistakable now. Taj pulls away from everybody. Even S and Rain cannot get a word in edgeways. But how is anybody supposed to experience such a loss and continue with their day? You made life worth living. What is left?

It would take an eventual intervention from S and Rain to forcibly pull them out of this hole, and it would take quite some time. S might suggest Taj retire from their dangerous lifestyle, however. Taj's anger isn't inductive to a life of putting away dangerous individuals.

N: If revenge is to be had, it will be met. N would not rest until they saw it so. But if the death was peaceful, if it was something outside of their control, they would ensure peace. Letting you go was a battle in which they were well prepared. It was inevitable. Death amongst demons is rare indeed. And yet, when it happens, it feels wrong. They feel wrong.

N will eventually dispel their newfound bitterness, but it will be no simple journey. They find themselves adopting your stance, mannerisms, and cadence—they all bleed into who they are. It helps numb the silence in their own heads.

Umbra: Umbra wouldn't survive the loss. So, they have to fight to make sure you do. It's their only option. Umbra may know a thing or two about certain forbidden magics... And the cost of it. But any price is worth paying if it means you come back. There isn't anything Umbra wouldn't do to see it happen because the moment hope is lost, so are they.

[yallemagne]

Meet Hematite and Jasper, a gem power couple and both halves of the fusion Bloodstone [design not yet made].

Yes, this is a Steven Universe/Dracula AU. Am I the first to ever do it? I doubt so, but I definitely am the best to ever do it.

I have all the gems lined up though I have not yet designed any. Pray for me if/when I try. A few of the gems are simple variations of the types we see in the show (like Green Jasper), though there are some that I had to conceptualize a place in gem society for (like Hematite). None of the main characters are human, though if I were to make any character human, it would be Arthur. That would change the story, dramatically, so I won't.

She/her pronouns for all the characters because I am not forcing a system as archaic as gender on a genderless society like that of Homeworld. We have the Gem Caste System to make the characters suffer under anyhow.

Character backstory and individual images under the cut.

Also, I have a Ko-fi.

Hematite is part of a class of gems whose role in gem society is most akin to human property lawyers. You might notice the resemblance to Zircons, which serve as attorneys in gem society. They deal in the management of transferring ownership of gem colonies. Gem colonies are most often given to high-ranking gems as proof of valour. As such, Hematites are few in number and they rarely if ever face combat.

(Green) Jasper is a Quartz soldier that was formed slightly offcolour. Instead of being broad and muscular, she formed thin and tall. Despite this, she retains much of the same strength of a regular Quartz and strives to prove her worth to her peers and her commander, Onyx.

Hematite was working with Onyx when she met Jasper, and something indescribable pulled them toward each other. Onyx, noticing their interest in each other, offered to let Jasper act as a bodyguard on Hematite's missions. It was on one of these missions that they met their friend Padparadscha, a noble gem with the power to see the future.

The day they fused, Jasper knew that she could not return to her life as a Quartz soldier, and Hematite no longer wanted to push papers to divvy out colonies. All they wanted was to find a place where they would be safe to be together. So, they turned to Padparadscha, who greeted their fusion with giddiness as she had known all along that they would fuse. With her foresight, she named the fusion Bloodstone, and with her influence, protected Bloodstone from Homeworld.

Bloodstone was uninvolved in the conflict on Earth, but when Steven Universe established Little Homeworld, she took the opportunity to live freely amongst other gems like her.

One day, she came upon the concept of human marriage and was enchanted. Hematite and Jasper unfused in preparation for the wedding. At that time, Hematite was to go on a mission to a faraway moon colony owned by a militant Andradite to inform her that the war was over and invite her to Little Homeworld... but what lies in store for her there?

In case it's not clear, I know I've been sitting with this for a while, so I am painfully familiar with all the inner workings, and y'all ain't:

Hematite: Jonathan Harker

(Green) Jasper: Mina Murray

Onyx: Peter Hawkins

(Star) Padparadscha: Lucy Westenra

Andradite: Count Dracula

[tteokdoroki]

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — be better, rookie + katsuki bakugou.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou, he’s all scarred up so…manga spoilers? reader looks up to and has a huge crush on bakugou, small age gap sort of implied !! wrote this in an hour so sorry for any typos !! not beta read <3

happy new year everyone!! first little ficlet of 2023!! thank you all for sticking by me this last year, i hope this next one is full of positive vibes for you all 🫶🏾☁️

aside from christmas, the new year has always been a time where crime was at its peak – whether it be pitpockets sneaking through crowds at Japan’s famed festivals or cruel individuals breaking into quaint little family homes while the occupants are out for the fireworks; crime always rears it ugly head during the dawn of a new year. for pro-heroes, working the patrol on new years eve is almost as bad as it gets, no one wanting to stick around for long hours amongst rowdy groups of fans, pranksters, and evil-doers amongst other archetypes of the general public. getting stuck with the new years patrol was prfobably the closet thing to bad luck, but this time around, you didn’t mind.

“what? got no plans for the new year, rookie?’

from your place crouched on a roof above the warm glow of the festivals below, you spare a glance up at your patrol partner for the evening and wet the swell of your lower lip, as if to warm it up from the onslaught of cold air drifting over it. “uh, n-no, not this year dynamight,” you stammer out, unsure as to why – is it because you’re cold? or because you’re spending the last day of the year working with a living legend? “all my friends are busy – not that i have many, and um…i kinda need the extra wages? so i volunteered for the patrol this year…”

his sturdy and intimidating presence looming over you while you hug your knees to your chest only serves to make you ramble on about the finer details you’re sure the older, more explosive hero could careless about. it all just…flies out of you, admitting your truth to someone you’ve admired for so long. katsuki bakugou was just shy of twenty-three when he started his own agency, shooting through the ranks for not only his zero casualties, zero failures work in the hero field but because of his brash, take-no-shit approach to life and obviously soul-damaging goodlooks. the first time you’d met the great and powerful dynamight, you were just a little ways away from completing your final year in the hero course at U.A, he’d come in for one of those alumni talks along with a few of his other succeszsful classmates from the iconic class 1-A. you remember nothing else from that day aside from bakugou’s words. 

‘havin’ a flashy quirk ain’t worth shit if yer not willin’ to push yourself past what you already know,’ he’d said, commanding your attention as you listened on with baited breath. ‘believe in what you can do, but don’t ever get comfortable, knowin’ that you can always be somethin’ more.’

now, seven, about to be eight years on – you still hold his words close to your heart, using it as motivation to strive to become a better hero…even if you are just a sidekick for now. you’re pulled from your thoughts when bakugou lets out a grunt while he flops down to sit next you, hot-blood red and silver-moon grey eyes focused on the buzzing celebrations below, his nose tucked into the collar of his winter-costume to keep warm. “got no partner t’kiss when the clock strikes twelve, hah?”  there’s not an ounce of care for how scandalous his question might be hidden in the blonde’s voice, in fact, he smirks from under his collar ( you can tell by the way his eyes crinkle ) when you squeak in response.

“n-no! nothing like that,” your voice shakes and rises in pitch as you vehemently deny katsuki’s claims – only making him laugh a little more, the timbre sound bristling right through you like the chill of an icy winter’s breeze. “i’m not dating anyone. i don’t really have the time to, i’ve just been focusing on becoming a good pro-hero…being the best i can be.”

bakugou knows those words like the back of his scarred hands, he knows the loneliness that comes with them too. they’re what’s gotten him this far, what got his face fucked up and his life hanging in the balance on multiple occasions. he knows them well, he wonders if you’re the same too.

“s-so…uh, dynamight–”

‘bakugou…bakugou’s fine,”

“bakugou,” you correct yourself quickly, daring to look at the man, your idol. “d-do you have any plans for new years eve tonight?”

your nervous squeals remind the aging blonde of someone he used to know, someone he’ll never dmit that he’s fond of, and bakugou decides then and there, that he likes you. this meek little rookie. he shakes his head. “don’ really care for this time’a year,” he explains simply. “but a couple of my old…friends are expecting me at a party by midnight.”

there’s a beat of silence, pocketed by your brief and meek sigh. “i-it’s almost midnight, sir.”

katsuki bakugou’s had a hard time accepting a lot of his feelings, not knowing when or why he should care…but tonight, he finds that he does. if he leaves now, with almost a few minutes to spare before the dawn of a new age, this rooke, the one that he hardly knows and only just met…will be alone. “s’bakugou to you, rookie.” and for some reason, his aching and turbulent soul just can’t handle that. “and i know, didn’t say i was goin’ to the stupid party, did i?”

the countdown below beings, with only a minute to go before another gruellling year will be upon you– your heartbeat is louder than the simmering excitement beneath you, the echoes of blood rushing through your ears deafening the anticipating crowd below. you want this next year to count, you want all of your hard work to mean something, you want the man that lead you here to know how much you owe him – so your body moves without thinking, racing ahead of the sixty-second timer that the whole world is running on as jumbled words tumble from your lips and you latch onto the dynamight’s right arm, desperatly, tearily.

“t-thank you!” you blurt out quickly, before you can even stop yourself. forty-five seconds left on the clock. “for everything, for being my hero, for going on when others can’t. for being the reason that i want to do better next year, b-be better!” you expect katsuki to recoil, to shove you off and when he doesn’t, you keep going. “even when the years would hurt you, you’ve never stopped. s-so thank you dynamight, f-for everything.”

the pro hero hates the way he almost gets choked up, nearly hates the way you remind him so much of the person who drives him to become better too. he blinks back the water lining his mismatched eyes, coughing to cover up the emotion in his voice. “did that idiot–” less than thirty seconds now. better, kacchan, be better. “did deku put you up to this?’ 

bakugou’s heart seizes in his chest when he realises – you’re just good, a little like deku, but good in your own way, in your own time. it makes sense why the number one had chosen you to be his sidekick. ten seconds. “no,” you whisper so sweetly, almost too quiet to be heard underneath the shouts of ‘five, four three two–!’ “that was all me. t-thank you, bakugou.”

one.

the smile you give him is bright, further illuminated by the pops of colour from fireworks in the sky.

you’re pretty, both inside and out, showing katsuki an appreciation he’s only ever felt once, before. 

speaking again, you give his arm a squeeze. “happy new year, bakugou.” 

“happy new year,” katsuki parrots, constarstingly soft to his rough, bumped and bruised exterior. here’s to being better, rookie.”

[always-is-always]

.....a little ramble.....

The infighting that is happening in the fandom is so unnecessary. Do people just not have anything positive in their lives to focus on? Do people not understand the nature of energy, and how they add to the negativity when they fight amongst themselves?

Hate perpetuates hate.

Every time someone speaks the word, writes the word, or thinks the word, they are adding to the collective creation of hate.

I've just typed it out more than I have spoken it in months. It is a thing.... Responsibility for what is added to the world's collective energy field. Yeah. Every single Human Being that is alive right now is contributing, with every thought, word, and action. Add in the emotion connected to that thought, word, and action and multiply it by 8 billion, and you get the situation..... Yeah.

What individual ARMYs do and think matters. What they put out into the world via SM matters. The quality of energy and the emotions that they are putting out there matters.

None of the hatred that is spewed into the collective that ARMY has created is worth the damage it is doing to Humanity. Fighting over things that are completely out of the control of individual ARMYs is not worth the damage done. It isn't worth it.

If a person has nothing better to do than pick fights with total strangers on SM, then that person needs to take a deep and long look at themselves in the mirror. They need to be honest with themselves and figure out what it is that they get out of fighting with strangers, on social media. And, they need to stop the insanity. Yeah. To freely pick fights with other people that they will never meet in person makes absolutely no sense. It is a complete and total waste of energy and time. It is a bottomless pit that one can never climb out of, after a certain point.

The only way that the fandom will overcome the crazy infighting is if it begins with individuals. Just stop. Stop responding to it, block the sources, and get on with life. Eventually the toxic people who thrive on discord will go elsewhere.

I can't even read it anymore. It's too convoluted and completely out of resonance with my energy. It is almost painful, from an empath's view. Yeah.

Not that this is going to change anything, but I feel a tinsy bit better now. lol... It's either write this or step away from this platform. Sometimes, I wonder if the discord will ever go away, within this platform and in the fandom... a perfect world... maybe someday.

Peace out, ya'll. Shine some Bright Light and Love today. Do a little something to help make this world a better place, okay? Do something to make someone smile! 😘

[seelestia]

◇ A Blessed Imperfection ◇

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

LIA'S NOTE: aaaaa, thank you sm for submitting and writing this masterpiece, ☆ starlight anon! i'm so sorry that i wasn't able to post this asap but now, i'm sobbing as i read this. (/pos) do give this a read if you have the time and show ☆ starlight anon (@/hermosacolibri) some support for their godly writing 💐 this work does not belong to me, all credits go to ☆ starlight anon!

+ tagging @zhongrin — ehe! rin jie, you gotta take a look at this <3

CW: fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth (in zhongli's part), reader has a vision (geo for zhongli and electro for ayato).

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.

CHARACTERS: Zhongli, Kamisato Ayato

NOTE: I have decided to just submit the excerpts for these two and dedicated them to Rin and you respectively lol. I kept getting ideas and suddenly there were more characters to write, which made the entry too long. If you or the others wish to read more, I have an account on Quotev (a writing platform) that compiled all these sorts of literary works. People can also request there. I will provide the link if anyone is interested once I get everything cleaned up :)

•

•

•

ZHONGLI is a god whom has lived for eons, and has yet to begin his life at the same time. After his six millennia of existence, he has been known by many names and bestowed countless titles. Some are hearsay, and some are legitimate—all are bonded through his contracts. As the Prime Adeptus, he is the warrior god named Morax who subdued the rage of oceans and monsters by rain of spears. To all of Liyue, he is the mighty Rex Lapis whom stood as the overseer of contracts, history, and commerce. By the word of Celestia, he is the Geo Archon whom holds dominion over the Gnosis; and in the eyes of Teyvat, that made him god amongst gods even if he felt otherwise under the divine gaze.

Alas, when he finally stepped down from the lonely throne, his words to the Traveler omitted a particular truth from him—

—that is, his reason of retirement.

Zhongli spoke of erosion, and even the merchant whom made him realize that his job was done.

However, he did not speak of you.

Of course, with two Harbingers present, his secrecy is understandably sound judgment. Nevertheless, even when he attained privacy to speak personally, he finds it hard to disclose about you. Perhaps, it is a draconic instinct to hoard and protect what he has claimed to be his.

The only other individual just as protective over any knowledge of your existence is Ningguang.

After all, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing is also known as your dear older sister.

Ningguang raised you since the beginning, even if she had been a mere child herself. Your parents are never spoken, and you never asked. Even when you find yourself in comparison to other children with mothers and fathers, your older sister was always all you needed and wanted. Tirelessly, she carried you on her back while her arms were occupied by a basket of wares to be sold. Barefoot, she journeyed from the sands of Yaoguang Shoal to the main capital of Liyue Harbor to make ends meet. Every weekend, you will both scavenge anything that can be sold.

The first gift she ever bought you was an intricate erhu of the best craftsmanship.

It had been your smiles that told her everything will be worth the effort. It had been your songs that soothed the ache of muscles and the weariness of mind. It had been your words that invigorated her ambition to become something more.

“I love you, jiejie!”

“…I love you too, meimei.”

Nothing would stop Ningguang from rising to the top and giving you the life you deserve.

Time is cruel to mortals and always issues a test of faith to see them thrive. In one such incident, it has been proven that you and Ningguang are true sisters in every sense of the word. Her determination can only be rivalled by yours, and the resolve which shine like stars in your eyes is unconquerable.

Your older sister had once fallen to sickness. She refused to tell you where she kept the money, not wanting to waste it to buy medicine. You furiously argued with her about it but nothing could change her mind. Thus, at the dark of night, you treaded the path towards Jueyun Karst. The entire map of Liyue has been engraved in your mind since you could walk. Even when nothing but black greets your blank eyes, it would have been child’s play to travel into the abode of adepti.

That is, of course, if not for the adepti’s indignant anger at your trespassing.

Fortunately, you stole a Sigil of Permission.

“My sister is ill,” you told them, “and I require your aid to concoct a medicine.”

You will never know that what eventually convinced them is how gold illuminated your form. It channels your soul, and then solidifies into a circlet. At its center, a Geo Vision proudly sparkled.

Mountain Shaper thus led you to collect herbs that you would need. Moon Carver carried you on his back while Cloud Retainer flew towards Yaoguang Shoal with Ganyu on hers to check on your sister. In the distance, the Conqueror of Demons obliterated all other threats that may come your way.

By morning, Ningguang was on a road to recovery and you thanked the adepti by playing your erhu for them every day.

Amongst these private performances, you ended up in Guili Plains alone.

A melody has been haunting your dreams. It is very melancholic yet profoundly moving, like a promise between lovers. The composition began to write itself in the abyssal void of your sight. Then, it played smoothly by your delicate hands on the strings. Your voice echoed across the plains, bequeathing a sense of serenity that mortals rarely have talent to supply.

Once again, the Lord of Geo has been enchanted as he listened to your lullaby.

“Milord, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Your inquiry was met with silence, but you can still feel his piercing eyes on you. Thankfully, you are patient as you are resilient.

The sound of footsteps made your ears perk up. You could not stop yourself from tilting your head to the direction of its origin. The omnipotence of adeptal energy dominated the air, making you dazed for a few seconds. However, there was a charming scent that you recognize. It belongs to a wild glaze lily, one especially helped to bloom by music.

Morax paused before where you sat, staring into your curious gaze looking up at him. The blindness clouded them yet your earnest intrigue made them shimmer glamorously. Autumn ginkgo leaves rain upon you whom sat beneath the shade of its tree, and he whom loomed over your mortal form. He lifts the glaze lily in his hand to bless its petals with a chaste kiss. Then, he slowly presents it to you.

A steady hand tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, planting the flower as an ornament. Your sensitive skin felt the callouses that must be from a lifetime of battle and slaughter. Alas, your cheeks only flush brightly at their tender caress. His fingertips glide through your tresses very subtly, giving you agency to pull away from his touch.

Morax pulls a lock of hair towards his lips, giving it the same attention as he did the glaze lily.

Then, with a promising smile, he lets go—

—and then vanishes in a blink.

That encounter was the first of many secrets you kept from your older sister.

A week later, a gentleman named Zhongli introduces himself to you. You narrow your eyes in suspicion and confusion. His presence, the aura of Rex Lapis, is unmistakable to you. Nevertheless, you respond with quiet acceptance while listening to his pulse settle down in relief.

It was not your place to question an archon anyway, nor is it your responsibility.

Aside from music, you always held fascination for botany. After refusing your sister’s offer to live with her in the Jade Chamber, she built you an estate with a large garden and a quaint greenhouse. From here, you have invented a unique art known as Geo Crystalline Preservation. You use the flowers in your garden to crystallize them with your Vision, but retain their scent like a real flower. By this method, you manage to pluck wild glaze lilies and preserve their natural fragrance after cultivation.

Your first specimen was the glaze lily gifted by your archon, now a part of your circlet.

Suddenly, wild glaze lilies were being revived to its former vast numbers in your garden.

Your artform can be applied to anything too. It can become a stained glass decor, a clothing design, an unwilting bouquet, and even a way to preserve food ingredients. For this reason, your fresh business had immediately made connections with all sorts of exchange across Liyue Harbor. In turn, you have developed a very reliable information network that answers to nobody but yourself. Twice, a visit from Yelan made your heart swell with pride to know you have information that eludes her.

Zhongli was more of a consultant or an advisor who directs you to the most beneficial proposals. It can be most helpful whenever you felt lost in making critical decisions that require more tact. He even made it possible for you to create a strong alliance with the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A part of you is still uncertain if that was worth the hassle that the esteemed Young Master Xingqiu tends to bring to your doorstep.

By the words of Rex Lapis, the core foundation of contracts is fairness. Thus, you asked Zhongli what he wants in exchange for his hard work.

“I only wish for your company,” Zhongli replied, “and—if you would allow it—a chance to court you.”

A gentle kiss lands upon your forehead. It brought back flashes of your first meeting under the ginkgo tree, when he was a god rather than a mortal. You used names to keep them separate, yet this moment has proven that Zhongli is Rex Lapis and Morax.

A cor lapis by any other name would nonetheless be as resplendent.

Then, two years later, he proposed and you said yes.

That resulted to an interesting private discussion between Zhongli and Ningguang. Neither of them disclosed any details other than the fact your sister gave her sincere blessings for the marriage. The wedding was reserved yet was also nothing short of extravagant. The collaboration of your sister and husband had you expecting nothing less, if you were being honest.

Another year later, the final Rite of Descension turns into a Rite of Parting.

You knew of Zhongli’s plan. He had to confide the details to you, excluding the Tsaritsa’s contract. It was the only way to persuade you into staying in Wangshu Inn for a few weeks, to make sure you do not get caught in the crossfire. He promises his intervention if all goes awry, if it endangers your sister as well as the rest of Liyue Harbor.

Then, it was all over.

Zhongli came home to kiss you with fervor you have never felt from him since your wedding night.

Later, the geo lines on his arms pulse with luminous glow in your marital bedroom. It reflected upon his amber eyes, pupils alternating between slits and dilation as his instincts purred. He closed his eyes with an inaudible sigh before projecting himself into your dreamscape.

As a blind person, you have an odd way of dreaming.

You only hear amidst the abyss and a composition always reverberates. When visited by him, everything gets reconstructed to a meadow of glaze lilies. At its heart is a Statue of the Seven. He had learnt that the imagery of stars twinkling above your heads is a sign that his own dreamscape had begun to merge with yours. A golden aurora borealis emanated pure geo energy, representing elemental resonance.

Always, the Geo Archon finds himself replacing his own self on the statue when he visits. He opens his eyes to the perspective of the statue. The illusionary Memory of Dust remains afloat beside him with a few geo crystalflies. He shall always find you fast asleep, wearing a hanfu composed of his colors. At times, your head is only resting on the armrest or his lap; and other times you are already in his arms.

Then, he cradles you closely while he listens to the tunes you dream. He has grown familiar with most of them through your erhu. A few would puzzle him, and he would then realize they are your unfinished compositions.

There was also one other reason he strictly kept you far from the events in the harbor.

You are with child.

Zhongli recalls the time you discussed the concept of illumination with him. It is the method of possibly enlightening a mortal to become an adeptus. The topic of you becoming immortal was only broached once and never again. Your own perspective in the matter was irrelevant, mostly because you were incompatible for the procedure. Although far from being an invalid, your constitution is far from ideal for such arduous illumination.

The Lord of Geo was overjoyed when you relayed the news of your pregnancy the first time. Alas, when the celebratory mood had gone, the slap of reality finally registered.

This will be a difficult ordeal for you, carrying a child that is half-adeptus.

Yanfei was conceived and born by a human mother, delivered through a complicated pregnancy. The health concerns never seemed to end, and her mother’s miraculous survival was only thanks to her tenacity according to her father. Even then, she is a mortal woman in perfectly good health.

If you were not capable of undergoing illumination, can you even survive this pregnancy?

No matter the answer though, Zhongli knows you are determined to persevere. For the sake of the life within your womb, you will endure all the hardships that will be thrown your way.

That fact is why he fell in love with you.

Perhaps, there was one thing he could do to help you even if it was not a full illumination.

As he once did for Azhdaha, the Lord of Geo can bless you the gift of sight.

You can see your child when they are born.

Zhongli lifts his head from where it rested on your crown. He tilts your chin up to gaze upon your visage and feel your breath against his skin. His fingertips grazed your eyelids, and the golden light of his geo energy engulfs the dreamscape. As everything fades into white, he leans down so his lips meet yours…

…and then, you both awaken.

However, for the first time, the haunting darkness that usually welcomed you has been replaced with color.

You saw a man hovering over you, lips millimeters apart from yours. Dark brown hair is embellished with honey gold, long strands gliding over his toned shoulders. Sharp amber eyes glared into yours, an unreadable sheen making them glow. Your hand reaches up to touch his pale cheek, thumb tracing the red outlining his gaze.

You realize. This is your husband.

“Zhongli…!” You gasped, tears in your eyes.

He smiles like a breathtaking work of art, a godly beauty that blessed you to be his wife.

“Hello, tian xin.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him into an ecstatic embrace and blissful kiss. He obliges, taking all you have and giving you all that is his.

Someday, you will no longer stay by his side.

Nevertheless, the proof of your existence will live through your child—and so will the love, the miracle that conceived them, which you shared with him. As such, you will continue to shine like gold in his memories forevermore.

This is not a mere contract, but a solemn promise that even Celestia can never break—

“My memories of you are treasures not even erosion can steal away.”

•~•~•

KAMISATO AYATO is a man whose heart seeks an equally capable partner. The idea of one day having to choose another half is something to consider as part of his duty. After all, the head of a noble clan is responsible for ensuring that its bloodline continues to prosper. To sire an heir, he must someday select a bride. His choice will lead to the rise of a matriarch within the Kamisato Clan. It must be a woman with the caliber to lead as the gentle hand of the Yashiro Commission to his iron fist. A fierce yet kind soul is necessary to command the Shuumatsuban in his place should the need ever arise. Furthermore, if he must eventually settle for a loveless marriage, his desire is to at least gain a lifelong friend. They must have the same depth of loyalty to his family, and the same steadfast resolve to uphold their principles.

Otherwise, he is very certain any other whom wishes to stand by his side will only break. With how he acts and carries himself, the people of Inazuma are more inclined to agree. Indeed, a wife less than up to par would be nothing short of disappointing.

Be that as it may, the Yashiro Commissioner can be a complicated man to love.

Ayato is a man who lives his life wearing a thousand masks, with little to no distinction between his true self and facades. At the early deaths of his parents, he was a young boy that had been forced into the lethal grind of political battles. To protect his little sister, he took up the blade to eliminate those who threaten them amidst the power struggle.

Just like that, his heart became a closely guarded vault privy to a trusted few.

Loving Ayato is likened to water, the same element he wields as weapon and shield. In calm days, he is transparent and clear to see. In chaotic nights, his own motives are harder to understand. There are times he can be as volatile as rapids, and others be as nurturing as a cool spring.

The most dangerous thing about loving Ayato is if you allow yourself to drown in him.

Alas, all of Inazuma is left dumbfounded when he abruptly announces his marriage to you.

The Yashiro Commissioner had gone missing for a week. A note with his penmanship claims he has a personal errand to run. Then, he returns to the estate—holding your hand while another clenches a scroll, sealed by the wax insignia of the Narukami Shrine and the Raiden Shogun. A glance at your respective hands reveal the glint of silver wedding bands, with camellia flower engravement filled by white jade.

Kamisato Ayato eloped with you.

“From here onwards,” Ayato declared, “[Name] shall be living in the Kamisato Estate as my wife. Please treat her with the same respect you do for me.”

The idea seems to intimidate you, a frown tugging your lips. Your husband, however, squeezed your hand in reassurance. Pacified, you end up snuggling your cheek onto his arm. The action is successful in grounding your senses, focusing on Ayato’s scent and body heat. He obliges this by gently pulling you closer, practically trapping your own arm to his side.

Ayaka hid a smile of amusement behind her fan, as her eyes softened in endearment.

“Of course, brother.” She replied.

Thoma nodded, beaming in welcome as you peeked at him and the young miss. Despite their slightest reservation upon this rushed turn of events, they trust Ayato.

Although, the Shirasagi Himegimi cannot help but feel you looked somewhat familiar.

You are a very peculiar woman, especially in a nation as conservative and traditional as Inazuma. In fact, some believe you seem more like an antithesis to your husband. Whereas he is always poised and very composed, there is always an untamed ferocity in you that refuses to comply to social norms. You can nevertheless dress as elegantly as any other noble aristocrat, speak as eloquently as any well-educated lady. If not for your infamous eccentricities, nobody would have doubted why Ayato chose you. It is quite renowned that you shamelessly stroll Inazuma’s main city in a commoner’s yukata—a messy bun for a hairstyle, and sometimes going barefoot. You despise social events and acted more elusive than your mysterious husband.

The servants were initially wary yet none of them can deny your positive influence. The household has never been so efficient and organized until you took on managing its affairs. Thoma was astonished to realize that he ended up with more free time under your authority. The meticulous way you stick to a form of schedule and your quick wit to adapt have enabled the Kamisato Estate to operate smoothly, with or without the siblings present. In fact, some unique tasks you assign to Thoma aided him into securing businesses in Ritou. As equal exchange for your patronage, you have flawlessly expanded the Shuumatsuban’s spy network.

Ayaka also found respite in her endeavors as face of the clan. She initially had a difficult time with being your mentor of sorts in the life of nobility. However, your creativity in problem solving and quick wit has been such help in balancing her own matters.

Thoma began to understand your ways when he has become in charge of all your meals. There is a set routine for every day of the week, and then a specific assortment of snacks with tea expected at certain hours. Each ingredient is meticulously picked and every dish is carefully prepared. If even one thing is out of place, you will notice with a single bite/sip and you would refuse to eat—which results to a very moody mistress for the rest of the estate.

It was only thanks to how well Ayato knew you that everyone else was able to keep up. He is aware of all factors to your behavior and how to aptly respond to them. His stern yet precise instructions left no room for mistakes if it meant taking care of you properly in his absence. It was as if he grew up with you due to the sheer amount of experience he has in how to deal with your odd patterns.

As months passed, Ayaka finally realized.

That is because her brother did grow up with you.

Ayato met you long ago when he was a mere lonely boy, burdened with the title of clan heir. He found you digging around the beach near his estate, an Electro Vision on your waist. A line of seashells were set on a flat rock beside you, all arranged by type as rows and by size as columns.

You glanced up at him. Your Vision flickers, making him tense—

—and then lightning struck the sands.

As a boy, Ayato watched in awe as the grains turned into glass. You manipulated the temperature of the element, heating the sand in quick seconds to create multiple pieces. He ended up getting closer, and it was enough to spook you. After you were finished, you hastily stood up and collected your things before sprinting away.

“Wait…!” Ayato exclaimed.

You did not listen.

The young master pouted, thinking he would never see you again. It was a shame since he found you so fascinating. He looked down and saw some strange hollow tubes in the shores, resembling coral.

That day, he went home a little despondent.

Ayato was pleasantly surprised to see you again the next day—same place, same hour. You are polishing the shells this time, and occasionally refining them to the shape you want. Small pots of paint surround you, and the Electro Vision is pulsing to be used at any given notice.

This time, you did not run when he got close.

“Fulgurite.”

He flinches as you suddenly spoke. Your eyes were focused on the glass tubes he picked up. They hung from the string of his obi now, which got odd looks from his parents a while ago.

“These…?”

You nodded, “They are fulgurites. You can use them to make jewelry. Want to see?”

That was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Ayato figures out your schedule and how you like sticking to it, so he never misses out when to visit you. It was something you never minded as long as he remained consistent. The times when he did not get the memo, you got annoyed and told him harshly to stop showing up. At first, he felt hurt since he misunderstood. Thankfully, he was mature enough to clarify it with you. Since then, he promised his arrival only on particular days wherein he can assure his free time. At his words, you acted less bothered by his presence and worked on your craft.

The two of you grew up together in those constant stolen moments. He finds out you have a younger brother, and he tells you he has a younger sister. On weekends, you are not on the beach. That is the only time your brother is able to spend time with you instead of honing his swordsmanship.

In stormy days, he had to struggle pulling you into the estate. Every time, he braced himself for your ire but patiently coaxes you over it. The most effective method is to occupy your mind with something else, and let your hands be busy crafting. Once you are fixated, Ayato can be allowed into your safe space again and he is able to take care of you. Henceforth, rainy days are spent in his estate and that became the new norm for your daily routine. Ayato adapts into creating amendments for your unhealthy habits.

You still persistently argue that storms are perfect for making petrified lightning glass.

Nevertheless, you express gratitude for his sincere care and affection. No one has ever been so doting on you aside from your brother. In turn, Ayato felt touched that you treat him as one of the only two people you explicitly trust. You even adjust yourself to be considerate of his own needs, despite the clear discomfort it sometimes caused you.

When his parents died, you were his greatest pillar of support.

Ayato has always known to never underestimate you in any way. What made you different did not make you dumb. In fact, it is revealed in that dark period that you were more brilliant than your peers. It was only thanks to your guidance that he found direction how to proceed. It was due to your judgment that he knew who to trust, which ties needed to be severed for safety. Every critical decision was consulted by you, and he was awed when the results you predict come to fruition. When his demons made him lose sleep, you provided relief by playing with his hair.

When he finally triumphed in the succession, you gave him a precious gift.

You smiled. Of utmost sincerity, you smiled ever so sweetly and so warmly.

That is the day Ayato knew you were the one.

Unfortunately, he had taken too long to confess that to you. Too many years slipped past his fingers due to his obligations.

Then, the Vision Hunt Decree happened—

—and you went missing.

A young man named Kaedehara Kazuha barged into his estate, panicked and distressed. He called for Ayato, kneeling as he pleaded for help in finding his older sister—you. The wind has gone silent regarding your whereabouts, and he feared the worst due to the recent decree.

Of course, the Yashiro Commissioner wasted no time in utilizing his power to be of aid.

It was for naught.

Soon, he could not even protect your brother when the young man was branded as a wanted criminal.

Kazuha witnessed the love Ayato holds for you—a passion he deems worthy of his kin. He knew of the bond you shared with him, which is why he came to the man for help. Meeting the man personally, the winds crooned in approval—to which the ronin only smiled, a little resigned yet mostly relieved.

Someone else can take care of you now.

“Aneue spoke of you fondly.” He said, “If anyone can find her, it’s you.”

The younger male presents him a box.

“She called it a tassel chime,” Kazuha explained, “and referred to that piece as Rainmaker.”

It contains a small windchime in the size and design of a tassel, thus the name. A single clamshell ties the knot for the top noose. Camellias on rippling waters is carved onto the blue glass, painted with glittering golden lacquer. Rather than a striker, a ball of glowing white jade is inside the spherical glass with a cowrie shell at its base. The tail is a familiar indigo satin ribbon, his gift to you on the last Irodori Festival. His name is embroidered in your favorite fulgurite threads, and yours on the other side:

Kaedehara [Name].

Ayato knew this is the equivalent of a blessing. He ties it to his sword, aware by use of elemental sight that the energy within it will prevent the glass from breaking even in a skirmish. He makes a promise to your brother that he will stop at nothing to find you, and then ask for your hand.

Eventually, he did.

You stood in an abandoned temple amidst the call of summer. The crystalflies illuminated your form, and the water shimmered like liquid diamonds. The tinkling sounds echoed in Chinju Forest, as the sails of windchimes blew with the nightly breeze.

“[Name]…”

At the call of your name, you turned to face him and Ayato embraces you immediately.

“I want to go home.” You murmur.

The broken tone of your voice devastated him, and he nods while tightening his arms. You hugged him back, hiding your face on his chest while his nuzzled your shoulder.

“Yes, let’s go home now.” He whispered.

The Yashiro Commissioner spared nothing at your expense. He used the name of Kamisato to protect you. As his wife, you are an integral part of the Tri-Commission and one with the Raiden Shogun’s faction. You cannot be touched by the decree like your brother feared. Although you desire no riches, Ayato sought to provide something that will soothe your unease at the drastic changes in your life.

Thus, in an isolated wing of the estate, there was your personal workshop.

A safe haven. All for you.

Ayato leaned back with you in his arms, cuddling by the veranda. You were sorting through your brother’s letters, worried, and missing him dearly. Looking up at your husband, he smiles and kisses you fervently.

“I’m here.” He reassures.

You wrap your arms around his neck in response, snuggling his chest to nap. He adjusts you on his lap and rewraps the blanket around you. His long fingers comb through your hair, humming contently.

Heartbound lullabies in hiraeth, ever so mellifluous—

“You are my clarity amidst sullied waters, a wish to forever keep.”

[justpoliteconversations]

The Pinks [Linked Universe Hyrule]

There's a family in every era. Hyrule's about to learn about this one.

Masterlist

TW: None. Maybe.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

Hyrule was nervous. No, that's not nearly a strong enough word for what he was feeling. He was downright terrified of what he was about to do (what the rest of his brothers had convinced him to do). What he was currently doing.

In his time, the land of Hyrule was an inhospitable place to all life not born of darkness. To plant, animal and other with equal viciousness, equal cruelty, with few exceptions. An unhabitable wasteland in some areas, so damaged and tainted by Ganon's many years of dominion the air itself had become poisonous to anything that entered it.

Except, of course, for the monsters that dominated such places even several years after the fall of Ganon. Kept strong by the residual malice that seeped through the land like groundwater, often unseen, but prevalent in its impact upon the land. Whole legions of dark creatures living, planning, breeding, growing in the dark places of the world, just waiting for Hyrule to stumble upon their decrepit nests.

Hyrule made it a point to stay far away from such places, entering only when absolutely necessary. Understanding that sometimes the most heroic thing one can do is to not get involved, to stand back and let the timer run out even as your heart twists and rebels at the very thought of doing nothing. Such was the nature of his blessing, his curse, his burden. The magic that runs deep within the thick of his lifeblood.

And, there was another reason he stayed away from such places.

This is the type of land the largest mercenary guild (militia, for there can be no other word for the size and scale of such an organization) in the entirety of his Hyrule had claimed as their own long before Hyrule even drew breath. Generations upon generations of warriors and hunters all clustered together in great legions of bloodthirsty unity. An extended family of killers, near 700 strong and counting in ever rapid growth. With a bloodline so extensive, so ancient, so persevering, the very beginning of their origin was shrouded in legend.

The Pinks. The Mercenary family of the wastelands.

Their name was known throughout the land, and yet rarely ever uttered from the lips of the common folk. Because while this family was known for their strength and power and the service they gave as the unofficial keepers of the deadly wastelands they stood guard over. They were also known to be unsociable and far removed from the people of Hyrule as a whole. Often displaying fits of temper unbecoming of anything resembling their near knightly standing amongst the public (sparse though that public may be).

Because they weren't knights (and never claimed to be). The weren't palace soldiers (whom they openly regarded with distrust). They weren't even bound by the niceties of social convention. They were a family of mercenaries and hunters, completely uninterested in the politics nor social governing of the land they shepherded (because that's what they did, whether they owned up to it or not). By their own admission, in one of the few addresses they'd ever made to the greater masses, they thought the idea of playing nice to save face was a joke.

They really were a strange bunch. Strange, but powerful nonetheless.

Still, despite their oddities, Hyrule had never had it easy with mercenaries. With such value put on his blood, and the lengths (and money) pro-Ganon factions were willing to go to obtain it, he had never met one that didn't know his face on sight.

He couldn't even imagine what would happen if he wandered into their territory and they got it into their heads that his head was worth whatever inflated price the latest dark affiliated cult had put on his bounty. He didn't want to think of how quickly he'd have fallen had these powerful individuals with their influential family and damn near limitless resources had ever sought to take his blood for their own.

He prayed to the Golden Three every time he heard even a whisper of their name on the wind, in the dark of a tavern rafter, in the shadow of an alleyway. Thanked them for the fact that he was not the kind of prey these people sought. That they were not known for hunting fellow hyrulians for profit or sport (Hyrule shivered at the memories, so many memories, of sadistic grins and leering eyes). That they had a strict code of ethics they were bound to.

But he would never tempt fate. He would never put himself in a position to see how deep that moral code ran through their blood (to see if the Blood Cursed Hero of Hyrule was exempt from their decree). He had never stepped foot into any of their dead-land border towns. Had never taken that risk. Not until now, that is.

It felt almost surreal, to gaze upon a village pushed right up against the suffocating dark of a tainted forest edge, separated by nothing but a flimsy wooden fence and a scant few meters. Truly, these people were as brazen as rumor tells.

"The Pinks? What a dumbass name for a merc guild." Legend huffed, taking in the small splattering of buildings clustered in half-hazard formation around one decently sized Mercenary Hall in the center of the makeshift village. His thin brows had quirked in judgement, clearly unimpressed by the (as one could guess) pink banners hung from nearly every building.

No one said anything directly to contradict him (because really, they were having the exact same thoughts), but one look from Time kept Hyrule's predecessor from further comment as they moved further into the village. Hyrule was grateful for it, because he really did not want to find out if these people were just as quick-tempered as rumor said.

He sent up another prayer. Begging for things to go smoothly just this once. For them all to leave fully intact and without the fabled legendary grudge of The Pinks following in their wakes.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Or, more accurately, he should have realized the world had a sense of humor. And he was the subject of it.

'On second thought.' Hyrule's mind stuttered numbly with disbelief, stunned silent (as was the rest of the Chain, eyes wide and floundering in the face of this unexpected revelation). 'Perhaps it wasn't me who was the butt of it this time.'

"You deaf or stupid, Side Bangs? I asked what region you hail from?" A young woman with dull pink hair and a frightfully familiar face stared down their very own Legend, who was looking rather pale around the face.

"Back up, Rina. Yer ugly mug's throwin' him off." Came another pink haired (but only on one side, the other blonde as a wheat field) girl's cool quip.

Rina swirled around with a thunderous snarl, thin, expressive brows hiked into an ominously pink hairline. "Shut yo mouth, Halfie bitch! No one asked you!"

"Girls." Came the firm, even reprimand of a tall man with long pink-blonde braids cascading down his bow-laden back. "Yer gonna be late if you keep wastin' time runnin' yer mouths."

The full pink one looked about ready to snap something back, but the arrival of a dark-haired woman (with the same damned face. the same damned nose) stopped her cold.

"Move." The woman said, voice low and rasping with cold command. And the girls fled, but not before full pink cast a defiant glare over her shoulder at the woman.

No more words were exchanged after. The woman merely nodded to the group, cast a considering eye over Legend, and left. The braided man in toe, casting his own apologetic grin over his shoulder and a small wave of farewell.

As one, the chain all turned to Legend, waiting for him to explain.

"The fuck would I know!" Legend snarled defensively, not appreciating being the center of attention while he was still reeling from having met his (probable) descendents so unexpectedly.

"So it's real?" Wind asked, wide eyed, as he eyed Legend's single pink bang.

Instead of answering, Legend turned heel and stormed off towards the Mercenary Hall, determined now to get this over with and forget the whole experience had ever happened. And the chain scrambled to follow behind, wanting answers, but understanding Legend couldn't have known regardless of their curiosity.

Hyrule prayed once more to the Three. Prayed that no one thought to ask him if he knew anything about the whole spectacle. Because he most certainly didn't and was still reeling himself from such a chance encounter.

The Chain caught up to Legend just as he threw the doors open.

Only to be greeted by a sea of pink. And a sea of equally unimpressed glares staring them all down with varying levels of judgment. And Legend stood before it all, looking like the foot of Hylia itself had come to kick him between the legs.

"Who popped another kid without tellin' no one!? Amanda!?"

"Fuck you! That ain't my problem!"

And then. Chaos. Sheer, unbridled chaos.

And amidst that chaos.

"Oh! Look at the freckled one! Isn't that Link?"

"What a cutie! I call dibs on courting rights!"

"I outrank you!"

"And I'm better than you, Streaks-freak!"

"Fuck you!"

"No! You!"

"The tall one's pretty cute too, though. Wait a minute."

And the only thing to run through the Chain's collective heads in that single, unified moment of befuddlement as they stared at Legend's back was...

'A rabbit indeed.'

---

Back to the deepest of shadows for rest.

[ereana]

Alhaitham X Cyno - If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to flirt by giving me books.

The first book arrives on Alhaitham’s desk two weeks after he finally steps down from the role of Acting Grand Sage. There is the possibility that it was left there earlier as he’s been on leave the past two weeks and it’s the first time he’s set foot in his old office. However, a quick glance shows no sign of dust, the pages are crisp leading him to conclude that the book has been dropped off in the past few hours.

Unfortunately, it is his first day back so he can’t spare the mystery too much thought; merely noting the title as one he’d been interested in purchasing for himself before turning his attention to other matters. Namely, untangling the bureaucratic mess his replacement had left for him. Alhaiham clicks his tongue in irritation, his handover file had been very clear and he’d even put aside a few hours to walk through some of the more difficult tasks of the job. 

He sets the apparent gift aside and gets to work, making a mental note to complete an evaluation of Bandi’s performance for Human Resources. Despite his annoyance it is a welcome relief to submerge himself in the dull, easy duties of the Grand Scribe after nearly eight months as the temporary head of Sumeru’s government. As he starts to restore order to his office Alhaitham can only think of three benefits to his tenure as Acting Grand Sage.

One, his opinion that becoming a sage would not contribute to a peaceful life has been proven true. There will be no need to wonder over what ifs in his old age.

Two, the increase to his salary.

Three, it had afforded him the rare opportunity to work with two individuals whose company he enjoyed. Lord Kusanali was fair, knowledgeable and ambitious in her plans to change Sumeru into a better country for all of its people, even the ones who did know accept her as their god. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for in her drive and wisdom.

Then there was Cyno.

Alhaitham flicks a glance over to the book sitting innocently amongst the stacks of paper. It’s a nonfiction text about the history of Watatsumi Island.

Cyno, he thinks with a degree of exasperation, is a conundrum. One which Alhaitham has yet to fully solve despite devoting many hours contemplating the subject.

The second book appears three days after the first.

This one is wrapped in plain brown paper and left on his doorstep. Alhaitham nearly steps on it in his sleepy early morning haze, but luckily he spots it in time to prevent such a travesty. There is no tag or other indication who it is for but as Kaveh is still trying to keep his current living situation secret Alhaitham assumes it is for him. Peeling off the wrapping reveals a collection of essays penned by several of Fontaine’s leading engineers centered on the subject of airship design.

The familiar pulse of intrigue makes him open it and, without sparing a glance to his surroundings, Alhaitham makes his way to work with his head buried in his new acquisition. If his headphones pick up the slight rustle of leaves as he walks down the street he gives no sign of it beyond the smallest curl to his mouth.

The third book takes longer to appear. Three weeks in fact.

Alhaitham is in a sour mood when he finds it. Despite his best attempts scholars are still tracking him down with an eagerness that matches some of the matra. They barge into his office, book up any and all appointment slots and accost him in the halls to plead their cases. No matter how firmly or how often he reiterates that the power of the Grand Sage now lies with someone else they still come to him. Complaints, please for advice, unsubtle offers of influence that he makes a record of to file a report on later; he can’t get away from them.

Even the replacement sages seek him out on the excuse that as one of Lord Kusanali’s trusted people his opinions are worth listening to. When he dry points out they could contact Lord Kusanali herself for such things they protest about bothering the archon with such minor issues. Privately Alhaitham thinks that Lord Kusanali would be happy to speak to her council of sages considering she hand-picked them herself but refrains from mentioning it. The last time he voiced a criticism to one of the new sages the woman had nearly resigned in a show of penance.

As a result it takes him a few moments to find the offering. Once again wrapped in brown paper it sits on a high shelf in a tucked away corner of the House of Daena, a little known spot that Alhaitham flees to when he needs some peace and quiet.

The book is a lengthy poem written in one of the lesser known languages of Liyue.

Alhaitham runs a finger over the title but does not open it. Instead he leaves his sanctuary, striding purposefully towards the exit.

He finds Cyno in the Razan Garden. The General is perched on one of the thick branches of the Divine Tree staring out across the first and Alhaitham uses his vision to teleport next to him. He drops the book in Cyno’s lap before sitting down beside him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to flirt by giving me books.” He states calmly as though his heart hasn’t been racing from the moment he found the newest gift.

Cyno peers up at him through thick white lashes feigning confusion for a second — a second which causes ice to form in Alhaitham’s veins at the thought that he’d miscalculated — before it melts into a grin. 

“When did you realize it was me?” 

“I had suspicions from the first and was sure after the second. You were one of few people with access to my office who would also be aware of when I was returning from leave. There aren’t many people in the Akademiya who could move about so stealthily that I wouldn’t be able to find any trace of them. That number becomes even smaller when it comes to knowing what I would enjoy and what books I don’t already have in my personal library or in the House of Daena. You were also away on a mission for three weeks which is the gap between the last book and this one.” Alhaitham lists off, neglecting to mention that he had counted every day of those three weeks until Cyno was back in the city. “And you let me hear you outside my house so if this was meant to be a surprise then you’ve failed.”

Cyno doesn’t deny it. If anything he looks satisfied about being caught.

“An impressive display of deduction.” He says and Alhaitham is helpless against the spark of warmth in his chest at the honest praise. “But of course since the scribe claims to know better than other mere mortals will he please enlighten me as to why he thinks I did this?” 

Alhaitham is not an idiot. He sees the mirth in ruby red eyes and hears the teasing note in Cyno’s voice as he leans forward, intruding on Alhaitham’s personal space. There has never been a more welcome invader.

“Undecided. There are several options and I need more evidence before settling on a definite answer.” He narrows his eyes and closes the distance between them even more, until he can see the wet sheen on Cyno’s lips. “But I would say if flirting had been the intention I would have expected the General to be more upfront about his intentions given his propensity for decisive action.”

A challenge. As it always is with them.

And Cyno rises to it beautifully, reaching out to pull Alhaitham into a kiss that steals the breath from his lungs.

The third book drops to the ground with a thud as Alhaitham’s hands are much too busy to catch it as it slides off Cyno’s lap.

[missglittersmiles]

Noble To The Core

Descendants × Fem! Reader Summary: y/n didn't fit the mold that was given to her as a villain kid. She liked bright colors, cute things, and was hopeless romantic. Though the worst thing was that she was hopeful. The isle squashed anything hopeful and good, yet it didn't squash y/n. It was very close to until hope came to her in the form of a letter. She would be one of the lucky 5 to leave the horrid isle.

•| ⊱ Prologue ⊰ |•

The Eviction of Vices was a campaign against depraved individuals who were labeled villains. It was the King of Auradon who had convinced the other kingdoms to put their past discretions aside to focus on the real problem. His passionate speeches ignited a fire. He spearheaded the campaign and is very proud of being able to instigate a better tomorrow.

It's been almost two decades since then. The world isn't a peaceful paradise by any means, but compared to what it was like before the Eviction of Vices it might as well be. This was an age of contentment and healing.

So it was ironic that Ben, Prince of Auradon, wanted to give the villains' next kin a chance to be free. The king would be very against the idea naturally. How could he, with a sound mind, let juveniles that are no doubt influenced by their parents prowl the land? Who says that they won't act on the villainess behavior that was ingrained into them?

Ben wouldn't give up even after his father's vocal denial. He couldn't let the children of villains be denied opportunities for a better life and everyone knows the island isn't a thriving place to be. It was not only unfair but cruel to have the children pay for the sins of their parents.

Surprisingly or maybe not, Ben's mother was very supportive of the idea. And very proud that her son was displaying such empathy for those who might not receive any. It was a trait most forgot about when thinking of a good leader.

They'd work together on how the program would look and what would be the most beneficial approach. His mother organized most of not everything while Ben looked into the residents of the Isle. In his mind, he believed that going big or going home would be the best way to show that this wasn't just an ignorant dream. That someone from the island can live alongside others. That evil isn't born from nothing.

He needed to invite ones that are associated with the most notorious villains.

When he handed the files of who he believed to be the best candidates to his mother, she raised an eyebrow. She thought that he'd pick out some tamer people. Not Maleficent's daughter or the son of Jafar. Not only was this controversial, any topic of taking or putting someone on the island was taboo, but taking out people who are associated with highly known villains would lead to trouble. The other kingdoms would be outraged and victims of the villains would be offended. It just wasn't a good idea.

Yet Ben wouldn't compromise. The controversy was going to bring more eyes to the idea of reforming the people of the island. It would cost a lot, but this was worth it. Giving others a chance was worth it.

Long-winded discussions that turned into debates would go on for months between the family. Until one day the king yielded. Five invitations would be handed out.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Name: y/n, m/n, Vainira

Sex: F Age: 16

Eyes: [eye color] Hair: [hair color]

Skin: [skin tone]

Family: She is the middle child and only daughter of Codrin the 3rd and Penelope. The oldest's name is Nikola and the youngest's name is Kronid.

°˖✧ BONUS INFO ✧˖°

❥Has a natural talent for fencing. It's debatable if she inherited it from her dad or because her Ex trained her a little.

❥Since she's not very villain-like, she's not very popular amongst her peers. She has various nicknames regarding her "goodness".

❥She is an artist. As in she doesn't like being called an artist. Peers see her falling into the stereotype of being eccentric and being too sensitive.

Love Interests and their relationship with y/n before the story…

『　Carlos　』

They've always been good friends. Maybe not bound to each other by the hip, but they were close enough for most to mislabel them as a couple until she started dating Hook. Wasn't as upset by her being with one of Uma's lackeys just that she started orbiting Hook. They're just close friends who like to hold each other's hands, that's all.

『　Evie　』

They talked and hung out before, but not that close. Though whenever y/n complained about not knowing what to draw, Evie always offered to be her muse. Every time y/n declined the offer Evie rolled her eyes while saying something snarky. She'd never admit that it hurts when y/n rejects her as a model.

『　Harry　』

They were such a cute couple. Both of their families approve of their relationship to an extent, but he puts Uma and her group above their relationship. They'd never fought before, but he believed that she needed to cool off and she'd come crawling back sooner or later. Imagine his surprise when he learns she was one of the kids invited to go to Auradon and that she actually went.

『　Mal　』

She doesn't like y/n that much and ignores her. There was something about her attitude or rather lack thereof one that Mal hated. Not only that she mingled with Shrimpy's gang and even dated the lackeys. Gross. Even after she stopped hanging out with them, Mal still doesn't like her. y/n was more of Carlos' friend and everyone's doormat anyways.

『　???　』

They haven't met yet.

『　¿¿¿　』

They haven't met yet.

Next Chapter

Noble To The Core Masterlist

I might add more to the love interests. Have thought of adding Ben/Audrey/Uma, though I'm not sure. If anyone asks for them to be added or any other charters, I'll consider it. I haven't watched the movies since it first came out, so I'm going off memory. Though just writing scene to scene with some varying differences is boring. There will be OC as love Interests. Before reading the next chapter I'd like to mention that there will be mature language and violence.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE CHARACTER SONG Vol.10 Strawberry Jam by Sakamaki Reiji Mini Drama “Determining the Value”

Original title: 価値の見極め

Source: Diabolik Lovers CHARACTER SONG Vol. 10 Mini Drama

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Katsuyuki Konishi

Translator’s note: This track was...hard. :’’) Honestly, it might be the most I have struggled with translating a CD in a long time, and it wasn’t even 10 minutes long in total. I get that Reiji is very passionate about this antique lamp but he starts throwing around a bunch of niche vocabularly which I had never heard of in my whole life so I had to keep on pausing and rewinding the track to look up all the words. (and even now there’s some parts I’m uncertain about whether or not I understood them correctly)

*Rustle*

*Thud*

“Hm...The exquisit cloudiness of this fibreglass is truly superb...”

You approach Reiji and reach out to him.

“Oh dear. What a surprise, it’s you.”

You note that he seems very pleased.

“I look happy? ...Fufu, well, yes. I do happen to feel quite content right now. The antique lamp I have been eagerly awaiting has arrived at last.”

He walks over to the lamp.

“I could tell at first glance. This item is worth much more than what it was listed as at the antiques store. ...You should have a look at it as well.”

You move closer.

“Just as I thought, it does not stick out too much amongst the living room’s overall aesthetic, blending it perfectly with the rest of the furniture. It is truly wonderful.”

*Rustle*

“On top of that, this strong impression it exerts...Just as I thought, something of value leaves nothing to be desired. It is only very rarely that you can come across a find like this on the market. I suppose it was worth all of the time I invested into looking for it.”

*Rustle*

“The state of the item is one of the most important factors when buying antique, so it is truly fortunate that there do not appear to be any visible scars on the surface. It is truly a shame when the value of an otherwise exquisite item drops because it has not been preserved well. I am truly glad that this lamp’s previous owner was a sensible individual.”

Reiji runs his fingers across the lamp.

“The paintwork is almost reminiscent of the art produced in Eastern Europe during the medieval period, masking the fact that fibreglass was used. ...What do you think? Isn’t it wonderful?”

You nod awkwardly.

“...Were you actually listening to me just now?”

You try to make up an excuse. 

“Haah...I knew it. No point in trying to deny it. I can tell by looking at that dumbfounded look on your face.”

You frown.

“When someone is talking to you, you do not simply listen, but you are expected to make an effort to try and understand what exactly they are trying to tell you.”

You look down.

“So can you claim that you have grasped the value of this lamp...after listening to me talk about it?”

You shake your head.

“See? ...Good grief. What am I going to have to do with you?”

You apologize.

“You can save me your apologies. This is hardly anything new after all. If anything, I suppose you could say I am at fault here for trying to talk about an antique lamp...”

He starts walking away.

“...to someone like you.”

You grab hold of his arm.

*Rustle*

“ーーHm? Could you let go of my arm? You will wrinkle the fabric of my sleeve.”

You let go.

“I am not upset with you, truly. If anything, I am reflecting upon my own decisions. You were never the right person to try and have a conversation about the value of a precious piece of artwork with. That is all.”

You frown.

“Oh dear? Are you feeling down? No need. It was never my intention to call you a complete failure. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

*Rustle*

“So why not focus on trying to play out your strengths?”

Reiji corners you.

“In the end...This is the only thing someone like you can hope for, right? ...However, there is no need to feel pessimistic about that. After all, it is undeniably the truth...that your blood is of the finest quality.”

You flinch.

“Well then...Let me suck your blood.”

*Rustle*

Reiji bites you.

“Gulp gulp gulp*

“Haah...Just as I thought, your blood truly is special...Nnh...”

“Gulp gulp gulp*

“Hah...Even more so than that lamp over that...”

*Gulp*

“Its value is priceless...Hahn...”

*Gulp gulp*

“Mm...”

*Rustle*

“Hah...Next...”

*Rustle*

“I’ll suck from here...”

*Rustle*

“Oh dear? This must be from the other day...Even though it had been concealed underneath your clothes so far, my fangs left a clear mark on your skin. Fufu...However, no need to worry about it. After all, I have no intention of handing you over to anyone else. ...No matter how valuable of an item they might offer in return...You see?”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Hah...”

You seem disappointed.

“What’s the matter? You seem rather displeased despite the fact that I clearly recognized your worth just now.”

You explain.

“I only praised your blood, you say? Well, yes, that is true. What else should I compliment?”

You frown.

“...Have you perhaps put it in your head that you might have other noteworthy features besides your blood?”

You nod.

“Haah...I am at a loss for words. I think this to myself every time, but where exactly does that confidence come from? But well...Right. I suppose your strong spirit which has allowed you to remain by my side despite the harsh treatment you have received is somewhat admirable, I suppose.”

You seem surprised by his words.

“Although any attempts to escape from me would be pointless either way.”

*Rustle*

“Did I not tell you? I cannot imagine...I would ever let go of you.”

*Smooch*

*Rustle*

“Well then. I have finished installing the lamp, so I suppose I should head back to my room now.”

He moves away.

“What are you dawdling for? Come on, hurry up and make your way over here.”

You join him.

ーー THE END ーー

[clanborn]

More about Alaska clans?? 👀👀

Currently trying to make little infographic posts/comics about them but progress has slowed since school started. I’ll give an overview about them for now though thats hopefully not too long winded lol.

The clans are located in a fictionalized version of the area around Seward, AK and Resurrection Bay.

This map is a bit of an unpolished rough draft, but gives a general idea of the area. I believe the distance between the Iceclan and Oceanclan camps (via traveling around the mountains) is around 13 miles, might have to double check.

Unlike the book clans, the cats in these clans aren’t really in a battle cult and refer to themselves as “denizens” rather than “warriors”, and infighting amongst themselves is rare. The existence of separate groups mainly serves to prevent resource draining and diversify the food sources available to the cats, along with religious reasons (I’m still refining the details of their religion so I’ll probably elaborate on it in a later post). Though separate physically, the four groups essentially function as one large “clan” and coordinate resources and cats accordingly. Cats are able to change between clans with ease if they find their talents are suited elsewhere, and this usually is not a source of drama or conflict. However, though the clans do work as one unit, they do differ slightly in culture, and some clans are more accepting and flexible than others. For example, Oceanclan sees the lowest retention rate in denizens, and few cats switch to this clan, due to their specialized hunting methods and a sort of “hazing” culture for cats who seek to live there. The largest clan is Brookclan, followed closely by Stoneclan, since these clans live in less extreme environments with more opportunities for cats of differing skillsets. Iceclan is the smallest clan, but is the most tight-knit—very few cats born there choose to leave it.

The roles in these clans differ from their book counterparts. Medicine cats are simply referred to as doctors, and their sole job is to heal. Instead, leaders serve as both political and religious leaders, and are responsible for reading signs and attending half-moon meetings. Deputies perform similar duties as in the books, but are chosen differently. I’ll go over these positions later on in more detail.

Communication between the groups is important for the well-being of the clans, in order to be aware of threats and transport food and medicine, and is also important to individuals who may wish to have contact with friends and family in different clans. To facilitate this communication, there exists a Courier role. Clans will have at least two couriers (often more), usually the fastest cats in the clan with the endurance to travel long distances over rough terrain. These cats duties include reporting weather and animal sightings, delivering herbs from other clans, and transporting news and messages between various parties.

Though the clans’ culture doesn’t revolve around battle and aggressive defense of territory like those in the books, they still possess their own set of flawed beliefs. Generally, these clans see survival as a game, a challenge from nature and from their gods. They feel called to prove their worth by thriving in the harshest conditions possible, even when it isn’t necessary. Death is common, and though these cats grieve for those they’ve lost, it is viewed less as a tragedy and more of an unfortunate gamble. Living is a game of chance, and some cats—inevitably—are unable to beat the odds. To live as long as possible, to take whatever hardships the stars throw next, is the ability to gaze at them in defiance and ask: “Is that all you’ve got?”

Some cats can’t handle living this way, and choose to live the risk-defying, danger-seeking life of a clan cat. Cats who leave are sent off with honor, but are unable to return as a denizen. They forfeited the game—and there are no rematches. Some clans are respectful of those who leave (such as Stoneclan), but some tend to look upon them with permanent disdain (such as Oceanclan).

[talisidekick]

Why Signs Showing Safe Binding for Children/Teens Is A Good Thing

Yes, this is going to stir some TERF's, gender criticals, rad-fems, and other transphobes into a bit of a frothing and angry mess, but good, because it needs to be said.

First off, no one is trying to tell your cisgender kid to bind. Signs that give steps for careful binding for under age teens or children just entering puberty aren't for cisgender kids.

What they are is informational posters for transgender and questioning kids that do bind and may be looking at binding products without a lot of information because of a lack of social support from their family or community. To re-state: No-one wants to encourage your cisgender kid to try binding.

Ideally, the solution that is the best is puberty blockers until the child or teenager has had time to consider how they feel about life. Puberty blockers are harmless, and allow any person on them to either pursue HRT at a later date (when they can sufficiently make an informed decision themself, or get approval earlier after lengthy psychological evaluation), or resume natural puberty later on in life. Whichever the individual lands on. Base point of this paragraph: easy access to transgender medical care via informed consent is necessary and the best solution, not bureaucratic hoops.

However, since many countries, and parts of other countries have decided the high rate of suicide amongst transgender and queer kids is an acceptable loss for the 'protection of cisgender children' in a situation (or situations) where cisgender children have never been at any sizeable risk, many transgender children and adults will take up the practice of binding. Why? Because they've been given no other option either by family, society, or due to a financial barrier.

So back to: why are these signs good? Because it means those binding who are unaware of the long term effects of it can be informed ideally bind a little more safely in a situation where it's their only option to be themselves. It's not propaganda for cisgender children or adults to be turned or fooled into being transgender, but rather to stop trans children and adults from causing extreme long term damage to themselves. Ideally, the best solution is to eliminate the need to bind at all; by providing sufficient medical care for a documented issue with literally decades of study behind it, and a satisfaction rate (99%~) higher than that of knee surgery (85%~); a practice that despite the amount of surgery's performed that end up leaving dissatisfaction in the resulting situation of the patient, no one seems to have a single issue about.

But I can already hear the argument coming of "what about those cisgender few that DO end up thinking they're transgender but aren't, that would bind or try transitioning?" And I'll give you three answers to that:

What about the transgender adults and children that commit suicide when sufficient medical and social care isn't provided? Are their lives worth less?

This also isn't a question that actually supports NOT having transgender care or information on it publicly available, but one that supports having more knowledge and psychological study being done on transgender care, the overlap of other medical conditions, and the easy access and publication of that information for the education of children and adults. Why? So adults, parents, and their children can understand more about transition and transgender peoples situation and make informed decisions with the aid of well trained and knowledgeable medical professionals who are supportive in helping the child make the right decision for them.

The number of cisgender folk that do unfortunately get lead to believe they are transgender and attempt transition is exceptionally small, and can be further reduced with the accurate publication and easy access to education on transition, transgender experiences, and possibly overlapping medical conditions as discussed in answer two (2) above. This doesn't mean stricter psychological requirements, but rather, more easily obtainable factual public information.

The end point to this: binding posters help transgender kids and adults reduce the level of harm to themselves in situations where the ideal options aren't available to them/have been deliberately removed to harm them.

If you are against these kinds of posters, that means you're for the deliberate harm of transgender and queer children and adults, not the protection of cisgender people.

You're just out to cause harm, and if you dislike that fact, perhaps consider what you could be doing instead to HELP without harming other people in the process.

Every person on earth is capable of good, but the line between doing good by causing evil for others, and doing good for all is a thin one. Make sure you're on the right side of it. Always double check. Transgender people need help being themselves, and ideally if we can eliminate any chance of cisgender folk thinking they too might be transgender, that's the goal. But one should never be at the cost of anothers life. Cisgender people aren't 'first' and transgender 'second', we're equal, we're all just people. Denying transgender people the care they need causes deaths. Lets all do better. Let us make sure transgender adults can live long productive lives in society as their true selves, and transgender children can make it past graduation.

Bind safely. The signs are there to help.