#oc: sister luster

[dongwoter]

Never trust a chaos-corrupted Repentia.

[k1ttygam3r]

FUCK CRINGE!!! Alicorn OC ATTACK!! *sends her at you like a Minecraft wolf*

[nyankootaku]

Emily: There is no i in happyness

Olivia: There is if you fucking spell it right

[readychilledwine]

Till Death Do Us Part

SJM Villains Week - Day One - Origin Story

"Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness cast upon them?" -Wicked the Musical

Summary - Beron had known love once in his life, and even that was ripped from him

Warnings- This fic has some heavy topics. A whole species of fae is hunted for their wings until extinction. While it is not done in great detail, if that will potentially trigger you, please consider skipping this.

Other warnings- reader Death, spousal abuse, domestic, and child abuse inferred, loss of a spouse, death of a mate, in summary, just not my normal happy love story. Edited and formated on my cellphone, long story, if you see errors, you definitely didn't 👀

A/n - Happy @sjmvillainweek day one. I was sent a request about Beron losing the love of his life being his villain Origin story. I bounced between doing this as a mini series or as a one shot, but landed on the one shot due to mini series that end with reader Death not being a personal favorite of mine, plus, writing reader's death after writing 3 parts of her and Beron falling in love was rough. If you all want it, though, let me know I guess? Today is very out of my box, as you all will see with my Maeve fic queued for later, so to those of you who frequently write reader/oc deaths, I truly admire you. This was hard.

🪽Peep the Wings of Prythian headcanons Here 🪽

🗡Villains Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The stake set in the middle of the grounds was the seal on the impact of Beron's actions. 100 years, 100 happy years of keeping her safe, and now he was locked in his own room, trapped as her execution was set up. 

He should have known better, should have hid her better. Her kind was already rare and in the last 100 years, she was finally the last one. One last trophy to hunt and he had led his father right to her. 

Lifeless wings hung high on his wall, still fresh with the scent of her blood.  The luster they carried was fading, the vibrant burnt orange now a muted tone of its former glory. 

Beron put his head in his hands, the faebane chains around his wrists clanging with laughter as he did. He forced his mind back to a happier time. 

Fire Festival had you running around the small market near where the Leaf Folk lived. Mother needed flour. Father needed wine. Your sisters wanted candy. The first of October was special to you all. To your whole race. It was the start of a 31 day process where the females of your race were courted, married, and the hopes of young offspring came. .

Fire Festival was for lovers. It was for passion. It would be your first year to partake, and while you knew it took some females 3 attempts to meet their match, your wings couldn't help but flutter in hope you would meet yours this year. 

As you day dreamed, supplies in a basket, you were blind to the male watching you. An outsider that had vendors closing their doors and windows with customer's inside, mamas rushing their children into their homes.

A voice cleared behind you, pulling you from your daze, “My lady.” It was instant, that snap of the mating bond tugging and tying you two together into a cursed string. ..

The dark-haired male put his hand to his heart, blindly stepping closer to you. Dark hair sat on top of his head, styled and brushed into perfection despite the evidence he had arrived on horseback. His slender face was handsome. Sharper cheekbones, full lips, a nose reminding you of a hawk beak. His clothing was high end, hugging his body as if he was poured into the material. “Beron,” he spoke to you, ripping you from your study of his figure.

“Y/n,” you whispered back, wings moving slightly to be out of sight.

“I have no interest in those,” he motioned towards them. “Only in the rumors of elder flowers in this area.”

You blinked at him, the olive branch you were about to offer him was dangerous, “I can show you if you vow to never speak of this place.”

Beron fought against his father as he was pulled to the temple. He knew the female he was being forced to marry was nice enough, beautiful, wealthy. He was forced to stand at the altar, a knife held to his little sister's back as he did. Aurelia entered either her normal grace, her own face solemn as the fae stood and she was escorted to him by her own proud father. 

Her dress reminded him of a princess from tales of old. Far too large, puffy, and in a shade of white that did not compliment her porcelain skin and hair like fire. 

They were both silent as they took their vows and the count down to your execution began. 2 hours. 2 hours he'd be forced to spend drinking and all that did was encourage more memories of you.

The pull of the bond became too much the following October, and the letters written on oak leaves could no longer be enough for either of you.

You were taking a huge risk, using the first feast and bonfires to sneak to his hunting cabin just a few miles away from the hidden edge village you'd spent your life in.

Beron was waiting on the porch, eyes coming alive as he heard the sound of your leaf-like wings crinkling as you flew over to him. ..

He caught you quickly, arms going around your waist, pulling your head to his chest. .

The first hug of many.

The first night filled with laughter and stolen kisses that'd come with the next 99 years.

He carried your one bag, frowning at your lack of possessions.

"Is this all you have, my love?”

”All I need,” Your tone was confused. “Did you expect more?”

He had. He had expected more than just the 7 dresses he pulled out. More than the one necklace he had given you. More than one more pair of leather shoes.

Beron glanced at you, chocolate eyes slightly sad, “I'm going to give you the world.”

Beron and Aurelia watched in silence as people drank and danced. “You said you were running,” he whispered under his breath to her. “You said you were leaving to prevent this.”

Aurelia looked at him, her whiskey colored eyes narrowing, “Do you think I didn't try to get him to come grab me? Do you think I sat and did nothing despite our deal?”

He rolled his own eyes, “Careful with your tone, wife,” the word felt like ash. 

“Am I your wife? Or is she locked in the fox holes waiting to be the final show for our wedding? Who else has their marriage start with the burning of their husband's who-”

The slap that came before she could finish that sentence made the room fall into silence. Another beginning. Another drastic change. Beron knew Aurelia had sold out the location he kept you in. Her father had been the one to drag you in, bleeding and crying, dress torn. 

Beron's father motioned for the night to continue like nothing had happened, as if he was beaming with pride at his son striking his wife. 

“Just because he didn't want you after you willingly handed him your cunt, doesn't mean I didn't want y/n. I hope you enjoy both of us being as miserable as you clearly are.” 

She sat wordlessly next to him, holding her cheek. She'd been warning of the heavy hands the Vanserra males carried, but Beron had never been aggressive. He'd always been kind to her. But she knew she was you and clearly Aurelia had gotten herself into dangerous territory. 

Beron watched the clock as it ticked an hour. An hour to day dreamed about you.

The wedding of the Leaf Folk were not performed in a temple, an odd thing for Beron as he stood under the oldest apple tree in the groove. Its twisted trunk and tangled branches were almost menacing as you followed his eye. 

You took his hands, whispering in the old tongue and making the tree light up with runes and stories of lovers wed under its branches. You were the last of your kind. The village somehow found and pillaged in one night. The groove of apples around you both was struggling, dying off slowly as its caretakers became a lost memory. “What do we do now?”

"We close our eyes and feel. We will know if the land blesses our union,” you smiled as you answered, closing your eyes. Fireflies began to fill the area, a slight breeze carrying the sounds of gentle music. You both opened your eyes to the deer to the fireflies.

“What the hell,” he paused. “What is this?”

"Approval from the Mother. She has blessed and signed off on our union,” Your hand went to the new rune in the tree, eyes watering as you followed the curves and slopes. “We're married.”

Beron was forced to stand, shackled again as guards made him and Aurelia walk to where he'd be forced to watch you burn. His family and Aurelia's father too spots near them, the other High fae in attendance whispering as they also took places. Public execution in Autumn was a favorite pastime for the rich high fae. They loved watching the poor, the criminals, the low fae burn or be gifts to the trees, consumed root by root. 

His father had known that wasn't an option with you. Had he given you to the trees, the trees would free you. No true crime was committed, and on top of that, your kind was so closely linked to the trees, your life forces depending on each other. 

Beron had tried to warn his father what killing you would do, how his family would lose control of the trees and the forest, how that was a magic given to his family by the Leaf Folks elders hundreds of years ago. A promise not to hunt them, yet every Nobel here had a pair of those wings on their walls. Fresh ones. 

Beron pulled against his chains as he heard you fighting and screaming in the tongue of your people. He watched as you spit on the male dragging you, watched as you spit on his father. 

You had, in many ways, made Beron's life easier. You had killed two of his brothers during your capture, making him the clear heir. You had stabbed his father with something rumors from the healers say wasn't closing, festering in his skin and muscles like an infection. The look of pride as you looked down from your nose towards his father made Beron smirk. You'd die a warrior. Die with not an ounce of fear but instead a river of rage. 

His wife. His powerful fearless wife.

That sneer didn't change as you were tied to the stake. It didn't change as your so-called charges were read. It didn't change as you waited to be given the ability to speak one last time. 

“The last of your kind, yet you won't beg for your life?”

“No,” you answered his father plainly. 

The High Lord seemed surprised as he spoke again, “So you will curse my son to a life of madness?”

“I've cursed your son and court to so much more than that already,” you glared

It was then that Beron noticed the runes carved into your body in captivity. He held his breath as he read each one. As he read the fate your death would seal for this court and for him.

You had been lied to, told he gave away your location, that he handed you away willingly in exchange for the bride sitting next to him. All lies he would never be able to change.

It looked as if you were praying, but Beron knew the signs of Leaf Folk magic now. He knew what was happening as the wind picked up and lightning struck as your pyre was lit. 

Beron shot out of bed, shaking his head as the nightmare replaying her death was fresh in his mind. He still blamed himself, still blamed Aurelia. 700 years later and he wasn't over her. 

But how could he have been? Her curse was a plague on Autumn. A deep rot that settled into the remaining signs of her village first. Then that grove he had married her in. Then the surrounding forest and villages. It was choking off life in his court. Illness, famine, and death followed in its path.

Her curse had not just taken the forest, though, it had taken him. The lifeless mating bond was doubled by what she had down. Beron lost all sense of emotion and Humanity once she was gone. He lost himself. That much was clear by the scars littering his wife and children. By what he had done to Lucien. 

He had no one to blame but himself.

He knew she was forbidden. A female considered low fae with wings like the rustling leaves of this very court, but Beron couldn't stop himself. He couldn't resist the feel of her soft skin, her scent of spun sugar and apples, her soft hair. Her eyes were his favorite thing, so light and bright. Full of life. 

As he held his chest in bed, his sleeping wife was next to him. It was those eyes that haunted him. Those last words whispered before an execution.

“A plague on your houses, a plague on your court, until a son brave enough to kill for what's right comes forth.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[karticatyt]

Next gen AU character roster!! This is mostly just an attempt to practice formatting posts and figure out how to use this app um ANYWAY

(heads up, this won’t be extremely in depth about lore or backstories, just simple introductions!)

This is the main roster in a row next to each other, along with their ages. Some of the art here is older than others… I’ll explain them in some more detail.

This here is Amber Gleam and her sister, Comet Trail! Long story short, Amber’s ‘real’ name is Cicada, and she is actually an adopted changeling, raised by Princess Twilight and later on her stepdad, Sunburst. Comet is her younger sister. Comet is competing with their cousin, Flurry Heart for royal guard status. I’ll talk more about Flurry later. Amber has been raised in the shadows for most of her life to hide her identity, which has led to issues socializing as well as a harsh reputation among the public as opposed to her sister.

Racing Heart isn’t actually the offspring of any canon characters, but she is an old OC that I love too much to remove, so she’s a part of my AU because she can. She’s a hopeless romantic lesbian who constantly crushes on all kinds of characters, but her eye is primarily set on Cotton Bow, who I’ll talk about next. I accidentally made her with lesbian colors back in 5th grade… I didn’t even know the word lesbian… wow…

Cotton Bow is the daughter of Mayor Diamond Tiara and Pipsqueak. She is best friends with Amber and they both bond over the issues that come from being the daughters of well known political figures and just wanting to be average, normal ponies. Although, Cotton doesn’t know about Cicada’s secret. Cotton’s special talent is knitting/crocheting (to her parents’ dismay) and she’s an introvert who doesn’t want to follow her family’s legacy.

Koi Concord is the son of Discord and Fluttershy. He has some powers from his father but they mainly remain limited to nature. He obtained his mother’s ability to speak to animals, but his favorites are sea creatures. He spends majority of his time swimming in rivers and creeks with little fishy friends, and keeps to himself for the most part. (Amber doesn’t like him very much as she deems his introversion as a waste of his ability to coexist with ponies as a mix breed/foreign species unbothered, unlike her who has to stay a secret)

Marigold Peaberry! The daughter of Rarity and Joe, she actually was really difficult to make a solid design for because I made her before picking her parents and then I had to redesign her to make her look related… it was a whole mess. She still doesn’t really have any personality or official role in the story.

Now we’re getting into old art territory… Startrix have 2 kids! Epitome Dusk and her brother Jinx Nightfall. Jinx is magically disabled and cannot use his horn without causing any accidents.This made his family incredibly heartbroken, but they all love him nonetheless. I imagine that these two hang out with Concord the most, since he’s the youngest of my next gen main characters.

Now time for Flurry! In my next gen AU, they are actually nonbinary and are dating Luster Dawn! I had a little bit of a poll/vote among my friends over if Luster should have been with Flutty or Comet and Flurry won! They don’t have a large role.

You might be wondering why that purple one at the end of the roster hasn’t appeared, and that’s because they aren’t canon. at least, I haven’t decided if they should be or not. Sunrise is a next gen for pinkiedash, but they’re merely a design concept for now. I’ll probably answer any questions people have about these guys if i have any answers. i doubt i’ll be getting any for a WHILE.

[pessimisticshapewithablog]

Lamb OC: 'Woolhelmina' masterpost

Wilhelmina (english Guillaumine (lol))

"will helmet" or "willing to protect"

Woolhelmina's cult is one of safety and protection, the protection that her people never received.

Current design, it's changed a lot but I've slowed down iterating it. Her character is pretty cemented at this point.

Learn more about her below!

Backstory

 Woollamina is the twin sister of the canon lamb, Lambert. She was taken as a baby and raised Ratau on TOWWs command. Because she was a twin, is wasn't certain which of them was the prophesied Lamb, so TOWW ordered her to be taken and kept hidden. 'If she was not then at least she would be able to bear more lambs' was his reasoning. 

Lambert was left to their fate as decoy for the bishops to believe they'd killed the last lamb and prevented the prophecy from happening. Thus giving Woollamine time to grow and develop as TOWW's chosen vessel.

Mina's story revolves around her keeping her status as the God of Death hidden. She spent entire life serving TOWW but she never got to be a regular person. When he's "gone" she can actually start living her life. But then another thing stopped her. She's a god now, with new responsibilities and obligations.

Some magic stave designs

Vessel of Red Crown

 Mina saw TOWW as a secondary father figure rather than a god and sought his approval constantly. The reason she wears her wool in ringlets is because it's what she thought he would like. Having that much wool is actually dangerous for irl sheep and is a fire and drowning hazard. She's risking her safety and wellbeing for a crumb of his approval.

TOWW and the dynamic with his followers is one big unhealthy family lol. Ratau is the useful disappointment

Aym and Baal are the golden children who are sorta useless but TOWW favors them because they look the most like him.

Mina is the scapegoat only daughter who bears the brunt of the responsibility for freeing TOWW but gets none of the accolades. 

TOWW is the overbearing patriarch that everyone tries to please but he's too far up his own ass to see that they actually do care about him. He has a new 'family' of sorts that actually loves him to some degree but is too emotionally unavailable to acknowledge that. His failed sibling relationship caused him to keep his new 'found family' at an emotional distance.

Woolhelmina's Wool

The reason Woollamina grows her 'hair' and 'skirt' long is because she believed TOWW liked the way it looked on her. Specifically because he commented on it once when visiting him. It was during a particularly bad winter and Mina decided it was best to keep her wool long for extra insulation. Mina is a wensleydale sheep so her wool grew long already but she never kept it because wool is hot and heavy. TOWW rarely if ever made comments about anything not related to his goals of attaining freedom so his little remark meant alot to Mina.

 The thing is, having such long wool all the time is very dangerous for a sheep because it makes it hard for them to cool down and is a drowning hazard. Even though she can swim, her wool will weigh her down. I like to think of this as a reflection of her devotion to TOWW.

Wool Care

Because Woollamina's is a longwool breed, her wool requires special care to maintain its crimp and luster. She can't use soaps or shampoo on her wool as they would strip her skin and wool of its natural lanolin. She does use it sparingly to maintain proper hygiene, though.

Because of the extensive care that goes into her long, white wool and hairstyle, Mina is *very* hesitant to get dirty. Bathing excessively runs the risk of ruining her wool and drying completely, with all her wool takes days with magical assistance.

It's cold and damp, she has to dry it asap or risk fungas and unwanted plant growth. ( Seeds will readily sprouts on sufficiently moist wool, whether it's attached to a sheep or not lol.)

Most of, if not all, of Mina's clothes and bedsheets are made with silk to protect her wool from friction damage. (I'm thinking about adding silk bloomers to her wardrobe and fit. They are awesome for chub rub lol)

[bananadrinkxxx]

The BLOOD CROWN

[Aemond Fanfiction ] reposted on wattpad

Pairing:  Aemond Targaryen x OC female!

Warning:  Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers.

Summary

"𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗤𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹."

Queen Alicent had spoken the truth when these words had left her mouth, the moment the King decided not to punish Princess Rhaenyra's son for taking the eye of her child. In the night, in the safe place of her chambers, she gave the order to have Lucery's Velaryon taken and sold into slavery. But a regrettable misunderstanding causes Larys Strong's men to take, not the culprit, but Aemma Velaryon, Rhaenyra's youngest child, and banish her to a life of suffering and loneliness.

Aemma Velaryon had not been seen since then but the gods do not forget and sometimes fate strikes back harder than you would have expected.

- PART 1 -

Then they say every end (...) ...

PRESENT - KING'S LANDING. RED KEEP.

"How does it feel, brother?"

Aemond looked up. He hadn' noticed how Aegon had entered his chambers.

He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard his brother approach him. A shame, considering his years of training with Ser Criston Cole.

The smell of alcohol hit him.

A wine bag in his hand and eye rings as dark as night and eyes as red as fire. He looked pathetic, but Aemond was sure he looked more pathetic. He smelled his own stench and he knew that his condition was unsightly. Greasy hair that fell into his face. Silver hair that had lost its luster and an unshaven face that could not hide his pale skin.

"...knowing you've killed the woman you loved?"

Aegon had always been very direct.

That was probably the only good quality about him.

Otherwise, he was just a boozy, sickly looking man, plagued by his injuries, who by the luck of his birth, had become king. Aemond wondered if Aegon was the most pathetic king the seven kingdoms had ever had. He was definitely a candidate for it.

"And how does it feel to you?" rasped Aemond. His voice was rough. He hadn't spoken in days, and hadn't intended to, but Aegon had always known how to make him do things he didn't want to do.

"Me?" Aegon asked mockingly with a raised eyebrow as he dropped into the vacant chair next to Aemond.

Aemond looked at Aegon snidely. "Who gave the order to attack King's Landing?"

"Since when do you follow my orders, brother?"

Good question. Never, actually.

"That was your own decision, wasn't it?"

"She wasn't supposed to be there." Aemond didn't know why he was defending himself.

But she was there. Right where he had burned everything to the ground. Right there where she wasn't supposed to be.

"To be precise, I got the information from you, Aegon, which is why I wonder-," he turned directly to his brother for the first time. He leaned forward a bit, and he watched Aegon's eyes grow wide, almost fearful. "-was it you? Did you want me to kill her? That I would be the one and not you?"

Aegon made a pained, indignant sound. Anger came into his eyes.

"I would never have killed her."

"No? She would never have accepted you as king. Never bent the knee. After everything our family did to her. She would have been always an danger to you, to us, to this reign."

"I would have exiled her. Somewhere, Pentos or some other place where she would have been safe and she couldn't have been a threat."

"Ridiculous. She was the threat. Do you really think she would have stayed there?"

"I would have made sure of it."

"You couldn't even make sure she wasn't there when I attacked. "

For a moment, her eyes appeared in front of his inner eye. Her beautiful eyes filled with love and hate.

A painful twinge made him wince.

The memory of her had tormented him for days.

"It's not my fault. I would rather have seen her locked up than in ashes."

"And her freedom?"

"That is something she lost the moment she decided to help our sister."

"I am surprised, Aegon. You're even crueler than I thought."

Aegon jumped to his feet.

The alcohol wafted up and his chair fell over backwards. His whole body shook with anger and the veins in his eyes stood out. It was an unsightly sight.

"I didn't want her dead. I gave her a way out."

"Well now she is dead, so in the end you really gave her a way out."

"It wasn't my dragon who burned her alive."

Arrogant Bastard.

Now Aemond stood up as well. His brother's arrogance and self-promotion pissed him off.

He stepped toward Aegon and reached for his shirt.

"It was your order, Aegon. Your fucking order, you pathetic excuse of a king. Don't play the victim when it was your words that sealed her death."

Aegon made a sound filled with pain. Anger gave way to pain and pain gave way to sorrow. Tears came to his eyes and it was not long before the first tear ran down his cheek. He collapsed and it was only Aemond who held him up. He had never reacted like this when his son or Helaena had died.

Never had his brother seemed so pathetic.

Aemond let go of him and watched as his brother slumped.

"I didn't want it," he affirmed, crying bitterly. He propped his elbows on his shaking knees while supporting his head with his hands. "I loved her."

"Well, your love will be remembered forever."

"They told me to order it."

They? Who was 'they'?

"Who did what?" Aemond's voice was hard.

Silence.

"Damn, Aegon. Who is 'they'? Talk to me, you miserable bastard!" He grabbed Aegon's hair and pulled his brother's head back so that he had to face him.

Aegon looked at him in irritation. "You don't know? They said she was at dragonstone when I gave the order."

"I wouldn't ask if I knew. I swear to you, if you don't tell me right now who-"

"Mother. The council."

For a second, everything felt numb. A static went through his ears and Aegon's words rang out over and over. It suddenly felt hard to breathe.

"You're lying," Aemond pressed out. This could not be the truth. "You're lying," he repeated. Never. No way. No fucking way.

They wouldn't.

She wouldn't.

Aegon smiled. It was a tired, exhausted smile. It was completely out of place, and yet it couldn't have been more fitting.

"If it makes you sleep better, little brother."

"Mother would never have lied to you."

"Of course not."

"She would never have lied to me."

"Probably."

Aemond let go of his brother. Aegon sank back, while Aemond stumbled backward and held on convulsively to the table beside him. His knuckles stood out white.

He knew that look Aegon gave him.

He had looked at him like that before.

Back when he had begged him not to force him to become king.

Aemond wondered if she would still be alive if he hadn't followed his cursed sense of honor then. If he had resisted and let his brother escape.

Perhaps then many things would have been different.

Yes, they had won this battle.

But they lost the most valuable thing.

... (...) had an beginning.

[suranastair]

@14dayscirclemages

This is Part 2 of a writing challenge for my Dragon Age Origins OC Selph Surana.

Tumblr Links: | 1 | 2 |

~ Prompt 2: Upbringing ~

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62724109/chapters/160899159

Rating: Teen & Mature

Warnings/Tags: Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Neglect, Good ol' Racism against elves/mages in Thedas.

Word Count: 1,894

Summary: The road ahead leaves Selph in a place of defeat as First Enchanter Irving awaits the arrival of fledgling mages.

It hurts…

Waves of hot and cold waxed and waned in time with the uneven bobs of the wagon. Numerous bandages, stinging with globs of ointment and elfroot, were layered on Selph’s back.

The wagon was crowded with three children, Selph included. In addition were two Chantry sisters and two templars. Outside, two more templars on horseback trotted vigilant on either side of the wagon. Even the jockey was a trained soldier, clad in leathers that were enchanted to resist magic.

Another surge of pain surfaced and Selph bit her lip. She learned quickly to keep quiet, to follow any and all orders issued. Their escorts “wouldn’t suffer disobedience of any kind”, words that came from a templar as they wiped blood off their longsword. Selph whimpered, didn’t want to remember what happened, pushed the thoughts away.

She didn’t sleep, and if she did, it wasn’t for long. Worst of all, her nightmares were back. The warm presence that once brought her comfort was gone. Its warmth had changed, morphed into something��different. It had burned brighter, had become too hot. So hot it burned itself up, burned her up.

It had shown her things. Terrible things. Things that she refused to acknowledge right then.

Bits and pieces fell into place in the days that passed, but it was all a cold comfort. Every time she opened her eyes, the pain was there as a reminder of all she lost.

Rations were being passed out by one of the sisters, indicating alongside the sun’s current position that it was noon. Selph took hers with her unoccupied hand, nodding in artificial thanks. She adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, glancing in her other palm. Within was Eira’s favorite hair piece. It was a tarnished thing, and its pearls had lost their luster, but it was the only thing of her old life she had left. She refused to let the templars or sisters take it from her.

Selph shuffled back into place, clutched the barrette, and tried not to agitate her dressings. It was difficult; the blanket was itchy and thick, and she suffered more than minor cuts and bruises. She quickly finished her rations—a softened apple with some dry bread and stinky cheese—satiating her growling stomach.

She feared even that would be too much noise for the templars, was thankful for the food no matter how stale or rotten. Afterward, she went to brush her fingers through her hair to calm herself, but found it shorter than she remembered, frayed at the ends. Her lip quivered, but she didn’t make a peep.

Noon turned to eve, the sky went from a bright and brilliant orange to the deep, starry blue of night. Soon, the wagon rounded a hill with a steep slope, one leading toward a rocky shoreline.

Far out on the waters, a great silhouette came into view. Selph’s eyes couldn’t help but widen in awe. Even the other children had little noises and whispers pop up among themselves.

Kinloch Hold. The Circle Tower of Ferelden.

Selph read about it in some history books she borrowed in the village. She read about those who housed themselves there, about the mages gaining an education and harnessing their magics.

Mages. Magic. It was still hard to accept. She had magic, and this was to be her new home.

“If the little knife-eared witch survives,” the mayor spat during her departure, his bulbous face red with fury. The first impression of that despicable man faded long ago for Selph.

Still, it hurt. It hurt down to her core. They all wanted her dead, but it was ultimately Eira who paid the price for Selph’s secrecy and ignorance.

And yet, Eira had secrets of her own. “Sticky fingers for the mayor’s coffers,” Halwen had said with pride as she ratted Eira out. Bit by bit for years in order to save outside of her meager salary. All so she could keep her promise to Selph and Selph’s father.

But Eira was her stepmother second, and a servant first. The consolation for the village was that a thief was stopped and received the highest penalty for her actions, and her ‘conspirator’ was on death’s doorstep, leaving their village one way or another. Forever.

***

Irving stood at the heavy entrance doors of the tower. His hands were behind his back, correcting his posture that was only getting worse with age. It didn’t help that it was already late, but this meeting couldn’t wait. As First Enchanter of Kinloch Hold, his presence was mandatory for this procedure.

Though he was apprehensive, and exhausted from his daily duties, Irving wasn’t as on-edge as his colleague, Greagoir. The latter stood next to him in full plate with his skeptical glower and tightened jaw. Of the two, Irving seemed more unassuming, but of the two, Irving was a mage. Irving would call himself mediocre at best, enjoying his administrative duties in the tower more than the upkeep of his magics, but Greagoir didn’t become the Knight-Commander by allowing anyone or anything to prove him incompetent or careless. They were equals on opposite sides of a spectrum, meeting as respectfully as possible in the middle.

“How many are we to expect again, Greagoir?” Irving asked in his scratchy and throaty tone, one hand beginning to stroke his lengthy beard.

Greagoir stared ahead. “The last message we received estimated four or five for this route.”

“Ah. More than I recall.”

“Three days have passed since, however.”

“True, true.”

Greagoir gave a noncommittal response and wrung one of his gauntleted hands on the pommel of his sword. Irving continued to remain visibly calm, their contrasting dispositions surfacing once again.

It didn’t take long for the group’s arrival, the double doors rumbling with a loud thrum that echoed off the high ceiling. They swung open, their enchantment momentarily disabled. The first to enter were the two Chantry sisters, stepping forward to deliver the specifics of the new arrivals while the templars decompressed. Only to Greagoir were they to speak; Irving would talk to the others himself and hear the short version later from Greagoir.

Several templars then guided in the new wards with Greagoir’s command, and the doors to the tower clanged shut once again. All of them were children—as expected, and all of them were despondent and downtrodden—also expected. Irving’s expression and stance remained still and serene, but inward he felt that pang of kinship he could never fully banish when seeing their faces.

Two girls and one boy. One of the girls was an elf. Irving could tell she was more harrowed than the others. That wasn’t unexpected, considering the stature of most elves in Ferelden, but…

Irving felt himself pulled to the hunched girl. His robes shuffled along the floor, the sound drowned out with the conversing of templars and sisters. He tried to get a better look at her as he knelt to her level.

Her blonde hair was short, uneven, and frazzled, unnaturally so. Glancing down, Irving saw her hands were clasped so hard together that her knuckles were white. There were small lacerations on them and her face, nothing too serious. However, her shirt had a wide, open neckline, revealing the bandages beneath. And, though the shirt was oversized, he could see the unevenness and bulk of them. She also had a sheen of sweat retained from fever.

Irving grumbled and stood. “Pardon my interruption,” he addressed the sisters and Greagoir. “Does this girl need a healer?”

“Once things were finished here, yes,” one of the sisters chimed in nonchalance.

Pursing his lips, Irving further pressed. “I trust that Wynne would be up to such a task while we finish.”

The tension in the air made itself known, and the sisters frowned. One of the templars from the journey stepped forward to address Greagoir.

 “This one’s trouble, Knight-Commander. Head of her village warned us that—”

“What sort of trouble, Cerand?” Greagoir cut in.

“The combustion sort, Knight-Commander.”

Greagoir shot a glance at the elven girl with a curt sigh. “Any casualties?”

“Along the way or from the pickups?”

“Both.” Greagoir said, his voice demanding.

“One,” said a sister, the disgust and impatience in her voice clear, “and she was almost beyond recognition when her body was recovered.”

“I see.” The Knight-Commander paused for a moment. “Burn injuries then?”

Before either the sister or Cerand could answer, Irving once again inserted his own question. “When were her dressings applied?”

“When we left the settlement,” answered the sister with a tsk.

Irving nodded and furrowed his brows. “Nearly a fortnight ago?”

A long silence then fell over the group, one that wasn’t addressed as Cerand finished what the sister started.

“There was also one casualty along the route. A boy from Denerim. He was a runner. Tried to use ice on us as he escaped and nearly killed Sister Edith. Bran took care of him.”

Irving felt his jaw clench, probably as tight as Greagoir’s then. News as such was normal, but never any easier to hear. And he wasn’t giving up so easily.

“Did this girl attempt any such violence or escape attempts? Were there any further issues of the ‘combustion sort’? If this girl is as much trouble as you claim, then why didn’t Bran ‘take care’ of her as well?

“I…” Cerand was at a loss for words.

In his place, Sister Edith stepped in. “You dare to—!”

“Enough,” Greagoir said with another longer sigh. “Cerand, retrieve Senior Enchanter Wynne from her quarters. The others will stay until our discussions have ended. Agreed?”

Edith and the other sister exchanged looks of annoyance, but they didn’t argue any further. The late hour surely dictated their cooperation, and Irving used that to his advantage. Cerand was sent off to start his climb to the senior mage quarters with several mutterings under his breath, and Greagoir returned to his discussions with his knights and the sisters.

Irving turned to kneel once more to the elven girl. “What’s your name, child?”

The girl, as well as the other children, looked at the elder man with awe. Flickers of renewed hope showed in their eyes. Irving smiled, glad to have given them that, at the very least.

“I-I’m Selph,” said the elven girl, tilting her freckled nose upwards for proper eye contact.

“And how old are you, Selph?”

“N-nine.” Her green eyes darted to her clasped hands again before back to Irving. “I’m nine.”

Irving then turned to another child, the boy of the group. “And you?”

“Uh, Devon. Devon Willard, ser. I’m eleven.”

The other girl then jumped in. “I’m Elowyn! I’m nine, too!” She gave a momentary grin to Selph with a missing top tooth.

Chuckling at the latter’s enthusiasm, Irving extended his hand and took them all one at a time in a light shake. “Well met. My name is Irving, but you’ll all come to know me as First Enchanter. Despite the harrowing circumstances you must have faced along your journey, allow me to be the first to welcome you all to the Circle of Magi.”

There, in the cold and stony halls of the tower, for the first time in what felt like forever, Selph felt a different kind of warmth—not like that of the bygone spirit, but one of kindred acceptance.

[sarahsmi13s]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics 💞

oh star, darn you! making me be nice to myself... but also how can i just pick three? i love all of my brain babies 😭

my three (in no particular order):

'Tell Them' Universe: after nearly losing someone very important to him, jake decides it's finally time to reveal his secret to the dagger squad

i feel like it would be a disservice to not include one of the first pieces i've done. and the only series i've finished so far. i have pieces in the works for this, fun things that go along with it. so i hope i can get a resurgence going 😂

'J and S' Universe: jake seresin met sarah grant in one of the least likely circumstances... moving his younger sister into her dorm room. a year after meeting, they confess to each other in the front seat of a truck. and the rest is history

this series is my baby. i love jake and sugar to no end. it is another one of my early babies, stimming from a fic i fell in love with that the author gave me a character in ( his little girl ). this series is entirely self indulgent with the main oc essentially being the fanfic version of myself. i haven't updated it in a while, sugar has been pregnant for a minute... maybe i can get back to them when my ideas slowdown 😅

'Duckie' Universe: as the daughter of goose and carole and twin sister to bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, y/n bradshaw also got her papers pulled when she tried to enlist in the Navy. which turned out to not be as bad as she thought.

and this wouldn't be complete without duckie. this summary is a little lack-luster and rushed, i really need to update it LOL but duckie and nicky hold a very important place in my heart.

these three are only scratching the surface. i adore the pieces i've made, whether they've done well or not. they're all important to me, but these three are what brought me back to posting my writing and have lead me on a path of maturity in my writing that i don't know if i would have reached otherwise.

[stolasbuckzo]

🎸 Crymini 🎸

VA: TBA

Basics:

Date of Death: 1990s

Sex: Female

Age: 19 years old

Sexuality: TBA

Species:

Human (formerly)

Sinner Demon (hyena-like)

Occupation:

TBA

<> Possibly patron (or employee) of the Hazbin Hotel

Likes:

Rock music

Family (surrogate):

Father: Husk

Sister: Niffty

RP:

Sister 1#: Kat Dust (OC)

Sister 2#: Luster Dust (OC)

Brother: Frank (one of the Egg Boiz)

Abilities:

TBA

Appearance & Personality

Crymini is a short anthropomorphic demon that resembles a spotted hyena, with spotted fur and a striped mane. She has fluffy cheeks and red freckles under her eyes, and her sclera are light orange with a hot pink iris.

Crymini's fur is white with red spots, and the inner parts of her ears are bright red. Her right leg, nose, ears and left forearm are dark brown. She has thick, messy hair and a bushy tail. Her hair is white; the lower parts and ends are striped bright red. The same palette is mirrored in her tail.

She wears a short, red dress with a white skull, a black spiked choker and a black, long sleeved jacket with a shorter, torn left sleeve as well as a short, black glove.

How to describe Crymini’s personality

• Rebellious

• Hooligan

Trivia:

• Vivziepop describes Crymini as "the young one of the hotel", as the other characters are all much older than her.

[izzibreezi]

Just wanna introduce these characters again if they haven't already been introduced. I'll be brief cuz it's late and I'm tired.

Y'all already know Flan and Luster so (yes I updated their designs a bit. The first ones I did looked so ugly)

Sister Ramona raised both Luster and Piccolo. The two are kind of like siblings but also childhood friends??? If that makes any sense.

Helena and Brim were old OCs of mine and I really wanted to bring them back. They're just a demon and undead person living in a cottage, being very gay and living the sapphic cottage core dream.

I haven't really decided how they'll fit into the story, but I'm working on it :)

[friesian]

Marwyd, Tirynan and Wakeland fooooor 💌🧠🥵💦

OH LORDY. OKAY. GOD SPEED EVERYONE. MARWYD:

💌 : How would they plan a romantic evening for a significant other? HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT ROMANTIC IS. I'M SORRY. HE'S TOO AUTISTIC FOR THIS. i think he'd be like. do you want to firebomb some billionaire's manor? yes? no? that's romantic to him. thank you for your time. we bond over the downfall of the rich or not at all. 🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute? will not stop at ANYTHING for you. NOTHING. if you want something he will find a way to get it. if you need something he will make it for you. if you are in trouble he WILL save you. if you died i think he'd go to hell to get you back. this guy is a rampaging bull and he'll stop at nothing to make sure that you're happy if he wants it. [COPY PASTING THIS ONE] 🥵 : Is your OC perceived as physically attractive to others? Is it at first glance or is it something that takes more time to reach fruition? HONESTLY no. he's not. i think he looks unkempt scruffy and doesn't have good posture. he's loud and doesn't give a shit about anyone except his sister and closest friends. i think he's a very specific flavor. not for everyone. 💦 : Is your OC’s attractiveness based on looks or a more intangible aura? aura i think. some stupid idiot motherfucking cowboy with a bad attitude, bullheaded, but literally saved the world without a question. whatever. love that guy. TIYRNAN: 💌 : How would they plan a romantic evening for a significant other?

i think this speaks for itself. 🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute? knows everything. literally everything. especially relating to sickness. if you're sick this guy would know how to fix you in less than a day probably. dude just makes you a whole new medication and then does nothing else with it except for going back to work. however! getting him to care is the hard part. 🥵 : Is your OC perceived as physically attractive to others? Is it at first glance or is it something that takes more time to reach fruition? ABSOLUTELY NOT. tiyrnan under the mask is FUCKED (no one knows what he looks like under there except marwyd, and marwyd doesn't give two shits). and i think you'd only find him attractive if you like Cool Dark Mysterious Types only to get disappointed by some stick-like fucked up thing. Sorry. 💦 : Is your OC’s attractiveness based on looks or a more intangible aura? i think this goes with the above that if you like the Cool Dark Mysterious Type thing then you will probably find him attractive. or someone who is just completely batshit insane. i don't know. i wouldn't trust him. i'm telling you this as his creator. if you trust him or want to kiss that man i'm telling you to please DO NOT DO THAT. WAKELAND: 💌 : How would they plan a romantic evening for a significant other? oh she's very classic about it. very cooks you something in his own home and just makes it nice. wakeland despite being a minister is NOT well off so the food would probably be lack luster-- and i don't think they're a good cook. mid tier at best. poor thing was never taught really how to do basic things like that for herself so it's ???? to him. but he still would try. she's got a good heart. 🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute? INCREDIBLY COMPASSIONATE. i think he cares about the smallest bug sometimes. she's been on record for giving spare rooms to in her big ass manor for people to stay in if they need it. he's currently housing some people who are trying to get away from a cult in our group RP. that guy would drop everything if he saw someone in need. he's got a heart of pure gold i think. 🥵 : Is your OC perceived as physically attractive to others? Is it at first glance or is it something that takes more time to reach fruition? NOW THIS ONE? ABSOLUTELY YES. i INTENTIONALLY made wakeland to be a generic pretty boy. she's INCREDIBLY attractive i think. i think he has a lot of people who have wanted to marry him and he's very scared and reluctant. well. he did really like gyael but. WHOOPSIE DAISY ON THAT ONE!!! anyways, no she's literally the most gorgeous girl on earth. he was blessed by lyssa Very Much. 💦 : Is your OC’s attractiveness based on looks or a more intangible aura? looks, but i think the aura is also an addition. he's still really mysterious, and especially being a Secret Vampire who's also a tired noble who has a heart of gold it's just. there's a lot going on there. either way i think she's literally The Best Looking Person Of All Time (LIE)

[a-tale-of-legends]

Hello there, R! I just recently discovered your blog and I adore reading your posts about your AU & OCs!

I did want to ask you a question about Nemona if you want to answer it (Nemona is my favorite SV character).

Do you think Nemona would be a horse girl / equestrian? I asked this because I actually headcanon her as one and I think she deserves to have a Legendary, so I thought that Nemona should catch a Spectrier (who can spawn in Glaseado Mountain). Nemona would love to ride & race astride Spectrier against Florian/Juliana and their Raidons. Also, Nemona would brush/braid Spectrier's mane too.

Any thoughts? Keep up the good work and thank you!

Hello anon! Gosh y'all are so sweet ^^

As for your question I'm not suuuuuuper familiar with....horse girl culture? Is that how you would describe it? My take though is a yeah, I can see it. We already have Furry Penny, so why not Horse Girl Nemona? Hehe. I think it would be cute if it was her older sister that got her into it. Recently I've been changing my mindset of how Nemona and her sister dynamic is: used to be really close but over time kinda lost its luster. Not bad by any means, but nothing compared to what they used to have. I can see Nemona latching into horses as relic on what her and her sister used to share.

Also Nemona would 100% tame a legendary like Spectier are you kidding me? Have you SEEN this girl during mochi mayhem, she is a BEAST! Her brushing it's hair is very cute. She would even put it in a lil braid too :3

Thanks for the ask anon!

[hopefulstarfire]

For the OC emoji meme: 🌌 for everyone?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Kat: I think for Kat it came from the dynamics that I could see play out. I thought it'd be interesting for both her and Maddox for Max to have had someone looking out in his corner and know how much he loved Cecelia but still hold the mirror up in front of him and say "What are you doing?" I think some inspiration definitely also came with I love the ideas of past lives and connections between characters and also let's be honest the lines "I know my sister like I know my own mind, you will never find anyone as trusting or as kind / I love my sister more than anything in this life, I will choose her happiness over mine every time" was a big inspiration and that song is what I hear in Kat later confronting Max and finding out why he set up Duelist Kingdom. The first thing I know I decided about her was "She's SOUTHERN" bc look at Cecelia.

Maddox: Maddox came from a similar place but I think I also pulled inspiration from another oc I've kinda had to put to rest in a sense. He was my favorite oc for a long time and he had so much of my heart invested into his story but there was also a lot of Trauma surrounding when I wrote him and just. In trying to write him in recent years it would require me to go back to that place and I can't do it. So Maddox definitely takes some influence as a spiritual successor. I think the first thing I decided about him was the connection to the Magician of Black Chaos, bc it bugged me there wasn't a past life connected to him bc Atem really only used the God cards and also is more connected to like Black Luster Soldier.

Iris: I think Iris takes a lot of inspiration from some of my favorite snarky kinda goth resting bitch face characters 😂. I also wanted her to be the big sister and look after everyone. The fact that she's a nurse is probably the first thing I thought of on top of her connection to the Big 5.

Nana: So Nana very much started as a My Hero Academia oc. I crested her...God I wanna say 2019? Somewhere in there? And then over the pandemic my friends and I developed our my hero ocs together and fell in love with them. And then we got the fuck outta dodge with that series and none of us really feel like reading or watching the dumpster fire anymore it's too much. But we wanted to keep these ocs bc we literally invested so much work into them. So, Nana, my immediate thought there was "She's got the hair to be a Mutou and also it'd be so funny bc she's fucking 6'3 like fucking Legolas standing next to Frodo". The original inspiration with her was how I weaved her into that my hero fic and also like the sun and light and warmth.

The extended family members of my ocs all kinda just developed naturally as I developed Kat, Iris and Maddox. Though I will say Wes's inspiration is definitely Sam Elliot. I still picture him whenever I write Wes. I hear his voice. It's just Sam Elliot. And Chelsea was very much "I want a badass mom character".

There's also a running joke bw me and Kohaku that Mason is just "What if Valon was southern" and that happened on pure accident BUT

Thank you for the ask!!!! 💖

[insomniac-jay]

{Hime Takarano}

Hime Takarano, or the Luxuriant Hero: Queen Midas as she's known as, is a character in the unnamed BNHA OC universe. She is a student at U.A. University and a member of its Class 3-B. She is also the younger sister of the Hero Splendor, thus making her the aunt of her three children (Hiko, Fuyuhito, and Hiroko) and the sister-in-law to InkStain. She is also related to another student: Class 3-A's Seisai Hoshokura via her aunt Queen Jewel.

During the Life After the Fall Arc, she becomes the CEO of the Dutch branch of Takarano Inc and becomes pregnant with her first child, Kinsei Takarano, around this time as well.

Much like her sister, she is a member of the Renaissance Club.

{Appearance}

Hime is a beautiful, fair skinned young woman. Her curly/wavy blonde hair comes from her mother (via her Dutch grandfather) and her lilac eyes come from her father. Like other women in the Takarano family, she has two beauty marks: one near her eye and one by her lips. Her build is mostly average save for her muscular arms.

Three years after Commissiongate, her appearance has changed drastically. She now wears a pair of black cat eye glasses and her bang is styled off to the side. Her build has also become slightly more softer.

The tips of her fingers are gold, another trait among the family.

One thing that Hime is very fond of is pearl jewelry and continues to wear it even as she ages.

[Hime Takarano, age 26]

{Personality}

Hime has exuberant taste when it comes to her personal life. Her motto is go big or go home. She's been raised with the philosophy of never settling for second best, after all.

Full of ambition, Hime is someone who will do whatever it takes to make it to the top and knows how to be well connected to those who can help her do so. She's not above persuasion, either. And she doesn't give up easily, either. But at the same time, if she doesn't feel like engaging in a power struggle, she'll find a different way to reach the top.

She's quite charismatic as she has many admirers and many fans throughout the school. Her colorful persona and flashy ways captivate many and draw attention to her.

Being that she is a rich kid, her privilege sometimes blinds her worldview and she is sometimes ignorant to the struggles those of a lower class than her go through.

When Hime becomes bored of someone or they can no longer be of use to her, she discards them and forgets about them and acts like they never existed. An example of this is how she discarded her life at U.A. shortly before and during Commissiongate as they were no longer of use to her. When asked about her time as a student at the school, she replied with, "Huh? U.A.? What's that?"

When it comes to business, she becomes serious and calculated. She doesn't like being compromised when there's an opportunity set in front of her. Hime doesn't get distracted easily when working, so one would have to be a real pain in her ass to get her to look away from her work.

{Overall Abilities}

Charisma: Hime prides herself on her charisma as it has helped her in many situations. Having been on the cover of several magazines over the span of her career has increased her effect on others.

Skilled Armed Combatant: Due to the nature of her Quirk, she has had to be trained in armed combat. She is a master at fencing and is proficient in using a bo staff.

Trilingual: Hime and her sister can speak three languages, which include Japanese, Dutch, and Mandarin.

Statistics

Power: 4/5

Speed: 4/5

Technique: 5/5

Intelligence: 5/5

Cooperativeness: 5/5

{Quirk}

Primary Quirk: Princess - The user can turn jewelry into weapons based on the material they are made of via touch. For example, if she were to touch her beloved pearl necklace, it would turn into a chain and ball flail.

Secondary Quirk: Jewelry Box - The user can manipulate the properties of jewelry such as luster, hardness, etc and can even create them to some extent.

{Trivia}

Her and Blood Widow, another OC, share the same birthday.

Her inspirations are Emma Frost (X-Men), Stella (Winx Club), and Rarity (My Little Pony).

While she is proud of her Dutch heritage, she is not fond of the food as it tastes bland (at least to her).

{Taglist}

@floof-ghostie

@calciumcryptid

@eggb

@peachyblkdemonslayer

@opalofoctober

@elflynns-horde-of-stuff

@pizzolisnacks

[musekicker]

I was going to hold back on posting this until October because it was for the flufftober 2022 prompt list thing. However two things I realized.

1. I have no patience to wait to post the drabbles I have finished.

2. I remembered I’ll kind of be busy at least a week in October, so better to focus on that then fic stuff.

Anyways, this Sing drabble all oc based. Bryce is my oc and Marcy belongs to @halloweennut

Marcy enjoyed a good bed time story before bed. This was just fact. They could be books or they could be stories made up on the fly. As long as she got a good bed time story, Marcy would go to sleep without argument.

Most of the time it was June or Buster who would be the one to read the bed time story. Sometimes thought the parents were busy. So often that Marcy's older brother would take up the story reading. Bryce didn't mind being the one to read a bed time story to his little sister.  He didn't even mind it when she asked him some questions about the story or asked him to do voices.

The only real problem was when a story that Marcy had been excited about had a lack luster ending.

"That's it!?" Marcy exclaimed after the words "The end" had been uttered by Bryce and the book closed.

The little part fox and part koala was clearly not pleased. 

"Yeah, that ending did kind of stink." Bryce , part koala himself but unlike Marcy part wolf, said.

Marcy took the book from Bryce to glare at the cover, as if it would make the story any better.

"We need a different ending." Marcy said.

"I can't change the ending of the book, Marcy." Bryce said.

Bryce took the book back. Marcy huffed and crossed her arms. Bryce was moving to put the book away. Then he paused.

"Actually... now that I think about it.. maybe I can do something about that ending." Bryce said.

Marcy glanced up at Bryce.

"Are you going to make up a new ending?" Marcy asked.

"Yes of course." Bryce said.

Bryce sat back down, looking down at the pages of the book before coming up with a start to the new ending.

"Okay, so first the dragon does not get slayed by the knight that we agreed already was kind of a snob. But instead the dragon tricks the knight into thinking he's dead!" Bryce said.

"Is the dragon a actor?" Marcy asked.

"The BEST actor. Where he's from he's a dragon theater star. So he's able to fool the knight very easily-" Bryce said.

There was more to the story. The princess in the story eventually joining the dragon, wanting to become a stage star as well. Adventures away from the castle that would be for further stories. By time Bryce finished the new story, Marcy looked like she was on the edge of falling asleep.

"Better ending?" Bryce asked.

"Better ending." Marcy agreed sleepily.

Hugging a plush rainbow, Marcy turned over and went to sleep. Bryce left the room, turning off the light and making sure the nightlight was still on before leaving the room.

Buster found Marcy at the table later on the next afternoon, writing a letter in crayon to the author of the book. It was a simple letter. One that said

"Dear author, your book was bad. My brother made it better."