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kauriart · 8 days ago

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Hero

An NSFW Dragon Age fic for kaijuburgers as part of the 2020 @black-emporium-exchange | m!Cousland x Loghain | Read it on A03

Oren Cousland is drunk.

But not drunk enough.

There’s a serenity, surely, waiting at the bottom of a bottle that he hasn’t found yet. And he is nothing if not determined to find it.

Stubborn determination has carried him this far, after all.

He’s in the kitchens — second kitchens? Some over-stuffed yet tidy room near the wine cellar. It smells comfortingly of food and flame, and is as much a balm to his frazzled senses as the drink. Moreso perhaps.

There are oil lamps strung along the walls, but the fire in the room is smokey-low and dim, flickering erratically as though uncertain if it ought to go out. He lifts his latest bottle and pours. The glass fills so quickly some of the wine spills out over the rim and over his fingers. A puddle of deep burgundy forms on the table, glossy as velvet.

The first time they kissed, Loghain wore a burgundy tunic.

But that was years ago.

And he is not nearly drunk enough to go wandering into those memories, no matter how close they press to the surface.

Oren lowers his mouth to the glass, carefully slurping up the excess wine as the door to the room slides open, wood creaking and shifting heavily. Alastair blinks. “Sorry. Didn’t think anyone would be here. What are you doing up at this hour?”

The drunken detritus on the table should be obvious enough.

Oren lifts his wine glass carefully. It’s still rather full. “Celebrating.”

Alastair raises a single auburn brow, but makes no comment. Instead he crosses the room, boots dragging heavily across the polished floors and sits in the chair opposite his fellow Warden.

Or, ex- fellow Warden. No one has bothered to explain if Kings get to be Wardens after all.

“We won, didn’t we?” Oren says, voice rough from the wine. “Successful landsmeet and all.”

Only it doesn't feel that way. Not really.

Surely victory ought to carry with it some semblance of satisfaction. Of accomplishment.

Alistair is quiet and still. Brow furrowed. Everything about him has changed to a striking degree. So much at odds with the half-giddy, nervous energy he usually displays. “What do you intend to do with him?”

Loghain.

Strong hands and broad shoulders. Eyes like grey steel in the candlelight. A hard mouth, and hard kisses. Each one sweet, and salty, and stolen.

Oren dips his fingertip into the puddle of spilled wine, and tries not to frown. “You’re the King now. I should think that deciding the fate of prisoners to the crown falls to you.”

For the barest moment, Alistair looks old. Then he reaches across the table and snags Oren’s wineglass, draining what’s left in three long swallows. “Loghain’s crimes were foremost against the Order. You’ve been our Warden Commander for the better part of a year. Doesn’t matter that you were never officially promoted.”

“Weisshaupt might disagree.” Oren says drily, and pours Alistair another glass of wine.

“Weisshaupt can go bugger itself, for all the help they’ve been.” Alistair mutters. He swirls the wine in the glass, but doesn’t drink. “It’s your call. I’ll stand by you, whatever you decide. I owe you that, at least.”

“Poor thanks, if you ask me.” Oren’s mouth twists into something that is almost a smile. “Couldn’t you just shower me with riches and titles? Half-naked noble women?”

“I hear Gwaren needs a new Teryn.”

He gives Alistair a startled look even as his insides twist, unsure if it’s a joke or not. Alistair is rarely cruel, but…

… things have changed.

Alistair holds his eyes for a moment, copper gaze unreadable before he grimaces and heaves a tired sigh. “Sorry. It’s… it’s been a day.”

“I know,” Oren swallows hard. “ For what it’s worth, I’m… sorry too.”

“I’m sorry… your Majesty.” Alistair’s brow quirks up, and the line of his mouth eases, just a little. Just for a moment.

Oren snorts, and clinks his wine bottle against Alistair’s wine glass. “I’m sorry, your Majesty.”

Alistair takes a drink, and the line of his mouth twists. “In war, victory.” he says so quietly, it is almost to himself.

In the morning, when Oren wakes, it isn’t really morning. The sun is already climbing down from his peak, and he has the grain of the table etched into his left cheek, a monstrous headache thundering through his right temple, and a deep sense of regret for that last bottle of wine.

Or bottles. Plural.

He’s not even sure how many he regrets, because he’s not sure how many he had — some industrious soul has already dispatched the remains of the celebration. But it had been an expensive evening.

And for all his excess he had never quite reached that floaty place where he could forget about Loghain, their past, and the decision laid out before him.

Loghain had been found guilty of treason, and had been summarily stripped of his titles and position. Even his daughter had failed to speak in his defense.

Fereldan judgement is swift. Fereldan punishment, even swifter. The nobility may have backed them in the Landsmeet, but it would not go well for the new King were he to falter in the dispatch of justice.

But Loghain’s crimes carried a particularly personal sting for Oren.

So he bathes, and changes into his cleanest uniform, donning a warrior’s full plate. Even strapping steel to his hips. He doesn’t shave. His hands shake too badly to manage a blade, but the quarter-inch of stubble makes him feel unkempt — and the bloodshot eyes don’t help – too much like a year-old Warden who sleeps in a muddy tent, and too little like a man fit to judge the Hero of River Dane.

He tugs a hand through his dark curls feeling suddenly as though he were fifteen again, half in love with a man he’d known since boyhood, watching him cross the length of his father’s hall, and silently begging to be noticed.

He hadn’t been — not then.

But then, one year, there had been a kiss. And then another. And then it was more than just kisses. And Loghain’s yearly visits had become twice a year, and then, every few months, and then every month.

And Oren had thought—

But then Loghain’s visits had ceased abruptly, and without explanation.

That had hurt.

But what came next hurt even worse.

Rendon Howe, Loghain’s right hand, had swept in and murdered Oren’s entire family.

And everything that had happened from then until now had been a blur of grief and betrayal and bloodshed.

He frowns at himself in the mirror.

This will be the first time in two years that he has spoken to Loghain alone.

He remembers the last time, though they’d barely spoken then. Loghain had kissed him breathless in the hall outside his room. And inside…

Oren shakes his head as hard as he can to stop the memories from coming. Even so they punch through, bright bursts of starlight behind his eyelids. The drag of Loghain’s fingertips across bare skin. The feel of his mouth curling into a smile. The taste of him. The mass of dark hair in Oren’s hands. The rumbling sounds of pleasure Loghain always kept locked tight in his chest.

It feels like a thousand years ago.

Everything has changed.

Everything.

And yet as he takes the long way to the part of the castle where Loghain is being held, he has to pause, and lean against the wall, hand against his face to still his breathing. There’s a sick sort of unease in his belly. Giddiness and dread and enough wine that he’s still halfway to drunk.

Maybe he just needs a good vomit.

There are a pair of guards stationed outside the door, but he orders them away. Whatever he means to say is for Loghain’s ears only.

Oren takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open.

It is not what he had expected of a prison.

The room is large and richly furnished, with polished wood, and jewel-toned tapestries, and furs flung across every bare surface. There are no windows, but a fireplace is lit and well-stocked, casting the room in a warm, dramatic light.

There are benefits to being the Queen’s father, it seems, no matter one’s crimes.

Loghain is sitting near the fireplace, with a large book open on his lap, dark hair pulled back into a neat tail. He’s unarmed and unarmored, but Gwaren’s heraldic crest, a wyvern, done in gold thread, still winds down one of his shoulders.

Figures.

“Loghain.”

Loghain looks up slowly, supremely unconcerned. One finger presses to the page, marking his place in his book. “Has Maric’s bastard decided what’s to be done with me?”

Oren glares, hands curling into fists at his sides, though he refuses to rise to Loghain’s insult. “Your King,” he says instead, leaning heavily on the word, “has sent me.”

“You,” Loghain says, voice expressionless. He looks Oren up and down with a calm sort of intensity. And if he recognizes him — or remembers what they once shared — he doesn’t acknowledge it. He tilts his head, inviting an answer. But the shadows shift along the sharp planes of his face, and all at once he’s too hard to look at — too imperious, and starkly beautiful, even in his defeat.

Oren looks away.

The silence between them stretches before Loghain speaks again. “Do you know they call you the Hero of Ferelden?”

Oren clenches his jaw. “No one calls me that.”

“They will.” He snaps the book on his lap shut. The sound is startling enough that Oren looks back at him. “That should please you. You always did love… heroes.”

Oren’s heart gives a small, painful jolt.

“So you do remember me.”

Loghain looks at him for a long time. And the world spins and spins, flickering between what was and what is.

“At Ostagar you didn’t… you didn’t even…”

“What would you have had me do?” Loghain’s words are sharp, and his eyes even sharper.

Oren has no answer. Nothing that isn’t childish or petulant. Thousands died at Ostagar.

Duncan died at Ostagar.

Half of all living Wardens died at Ostagar.

He shakes his head, breathing heavily through his nose. He can still remember the stink of the battlefield, even before it began. An army is all noise and sweat and shit even before it is broken into pieces. And he and Alistair had watched it all from their tower. The tidal wave of Darkspawn crawling over the men below, and Loghain’s banners turning round, leaving them all to their fate. There’d been no sound –– they were up too high. But Alistair’s screams filled his ears, drowning out the tiny crack that splintered across his heart.

He really is a fucking child.

Loghain stands and moves closer, and Oren shifts from foot to foot. He won't back away, he won't. But having Loghain so close makes him uneasy.

The table at the center of the room is laden with food, mostly untouched. Loghain uncorks a bottle and begins to pour. “Wine?”

Oren makes a sound of disbelief. “No.”

“Ori—”

“Don’t call me that!” Oren roars. Rage rises up so fast it nearly chokes him. “My family called me that. Before Rendon Howe had them slaughtered!”

He doesn’t even realize he has his sword in his hand until Loghain moves to take it from him, grasping his wrist and twisting so sharply that for a moment everything goes numb from his elbow down. There’s a burst of pain, sharp and sweet, and Loghain has his sword.

This close his armor will make little difference. Loghain is well known for his unholy strength and brutality on the battlefield. And he has already tried to kill Oren. More than once.

More than twice.

A question burns his mouth. “Did you know?”

Loghain doesn’t answer, but his head tilts back slightly.

“Did. you. know.” Each word is as sharp as a slap, but it’s Oren who feels it. A bright broad sting across his heart. But he has to know. He has to.

“I did.”

Without hesitating, Oren smashes his forehead against the bridge of Loghain’s nose. Everything whites out in a starburst of pain. The two men stagger away from each other swearing breathlessly. Oren holds himself up one handed as the room tilts wildly before righting itself with a nauseating jolt.

Loghain is glaring at him, blood all down his upper lip and down his chin. His nose doesn’t look broken, but it’s already beginning to swell. “Idiot,” he says stiffly and uses the hem of his tunic to stem the blood-flow.

Oren chuckles, thinking he is definitely, certainly, still at least a little drunk.

And maybe brain-damaged now.

Loghain tosses the sword aside, still glaring.

Maybe they’re both brain-damaged.

“Ori,” Loghain starts.

“Fuck you,” he says.

Loghain sighs. “Why do you ask questions when you don’t want the answer?”

“That’s fucking retorical too.” Oren mutters. The bottle has tipped over, spilling a stream of wine onto the carpet below.

The first time they kissed, Loghain wore a burgundy tunic.

Loghain still has the tunic clamped over his nose. Fine linen spotted with blood. He pinches down a few more times, but the bleeding is already beginning to slow.

“Is it broken?” Oren asks.

“Probably.”

“Good.”

Loghain narrows his eyes and Oren nearly laughs again, still a little dizzy. “You don’t headbutt someone in a fight.”

“I didn’t realize we were fighting. I thought you were admitting to your part in the slaughter of my family.”

“No,” Loghain says, making a face at the splotches of blood all down his tunic. He peels it off, wads it into a ball and casts it into the fire. “You were asking questions you didn’t want answered.”

Oren wishes they hadn’t spilled the wine. It would give him something to do besides trying not to look at Loghain’s bare chest.

“Alistair gave you the choice, didn’t he?”

Oren grunts, and picks at the grapes on the table. “Why? Trying to seduce me into sparing your life?”

Loghain’s mouth twists into something too dangerous to be a smile. “Never had to seduce you before.”

Now it’s Oren’s turn to glare even as his cock gives a jolt in response. It never took much from Loghain to get him hard. But he’s older now, and hopefully not so easily baited.

But —

“Your birthday was two days ago,” Loghain says softly.

Oren freezes. Even his heart stops beating, if only for a moment.

“Every year I came you asked me for a kiss.” Loghain takes a step forward, then pauses, brows knitted into a frown. His hand twitches at his side, fingers clenching and unclenching in tiny, measured movements. “I never understood why. But I gave it to you.”

“You never understood why you kissed me?”

“I never understood why you wanted to be kissed.”

Despite everything, Oren’s chest feels tight with a sudden longing. “I was raised on stories of you. The Hero of River Dane. The right hand of the King. You,” he says carefully, “were like the sun.”

“Maric was the sun. He was the golden boy. I was only ever his shadow.”

“Not to me,” Oren breathes. “You were my first.”

“I assumed,” Loghain says dryly.

Oren bites back a dozen sarcastic replies in an instant, but he’s tired, and his head hurts. And all that is left to him is honesty. “I was in love with you.”

The sudden flare of anger in Loghain's eyes isn’t bright, but cold and bitter. He reaches out, almost calmly, and grasps Oren by the throat.

It’s so still and deliberate that Oren doesn’t jerk away, not until Loghain begins to squeeze. He tries to claw Loghain’s fingers off his neck, but Loghain barrels him backward, until the back of his legs hit the bed and they both tip over. Oren writhes trying to break away, but Loghain is monstrously strong, and has all the leverage.

He folds his hand into a fist and drives it into Loghain’s mid-section, but he uses the arm that’s still mostly numb, so Loghain grunts, but doesn’t let go.

“Murderer!” Oren hisses, thrashing ineffectually. “Fucking coward!”

Loghain has an extraordinary voice. Low, and rough and impeccably expressive. It could be bright, or thunderous, or sharply brittle as ice. But now it is so thin and thready it is difficult to hear. “You were never in love, Ori. You mistook hero worship for love, and now that you’ve finally grown up and realized the world isn’t made up of fairy tales, and happy endings, you want to blame me. Well go ahead.”

Oren grunts and tries to kick out, but Loghain’s weight is across his shins.

“One day there will be a boy who looks at you the way you looked at me. And you will have to explain to him that you became a hero because there was nothing, and no one that you weren’t willing to shatter to do what must be done.” His fingers tighten, mercilessly. “Heroes aren’t kind. Heroes aren’t just. They don’t have that luxury.”

Oren makes a choked sound as his breath falters. Tears run into his ears.

“And then he’ll look at you the way you are looking at me now,” Loghain says quietly.

Oren manages to get a couple of fingers wedged beneath Loghain’s grip, and sucks in a thready breath. “That’s... because you’re choking me, you fuck.”

“Or maybe all you ever wanted was a hand on your cock that wasn’t your own.”

Loghain leans in, the thumb of his free hand sweeping against Oren’s bottom lip and for a brief moment Oren thinks he might try to bite Loghain. But all he does is take a single, strained breath.

And wait.

His eyes flutter closed.

The grip on his neck relaxes a little.

And Loghain shifts closer, breath warm and unsteady. “Ori...”

The sound of his name in Loghain’s mouth twists inside him. He makes a tiny sound, dismay and distress and a bright streak of shame at his own inexplicable arousal. But then Loghain is kissing him, and the tumult of emotions dissolves into pure shock.

Loghain smells the same. Feels the same. Tastes the same.

And Oren cannot help but press deeper into the kiss, even as his hand comes up to the broad expanse of Loghain’s chest, hovering, certain at any moment that he’ll push Loghain away.

But then he feels Loghain fumbling first at his belt, and then at the laces of his breeches, and then Loghain’s hand is cupping his bare cock.

Oren’s head spins. He makes a sound that's a sob and a prayer, all harsh and broken and begging.

But his hand slips down Loghain’s chest, and starts working his trousers open. Loghain’s nearly entirely hard, and the shape of him in Oren’s hand is familiar and strange and overwhelming.

What is he doing?

He ought to squeeze the fucker’s balls until they pop.

Loghain slots their bare cocks together, wraps them in his large hand.

And Oren makes a shuddery sound through his nose. Maker, it’s been so long...

“Did Maric’s boy not do this for you?”

“No,” he manages. “Fuck you.”

Loghain chuckles, the sound a low rumble. And Oren realizes he’s never heard him laugh.

And he wants…

Maker what does he want?

Loghain’s grip on his throat eases deliberately. “Take a breath,” he says.

Oren does. A full, sweet lungful, even though it hurts, and it hurts when Loghain grips his neck once again, clamping down.

It goes quick after that. They’re both too riled up to savor anything. Loghain twists his hand around the pair of them as Oren tries to thrust up. There isn’t enough slick, but the sensation is still dizzying — sharp and insistent and demanding. Waves of pleasure rocket up Oren’s spine and radiate through his core. He grabs a handful of Loghain’s hair tugging him down for another kiss, until he’s thoroughly breathless and quite literally seeing stars.

Their cocks slide together, Loghain’s thumb brushing over the wet tips and the hand at his throat is like a vice, anchoring him, even as he drifts higher and higher and far far away. And Loghain growls something, rhythm suddenly jerky and harsh, and there’s a sudden slick of heat between them, and yes yes—

He bows off the bed as he comes, thrusting hard into Loghain’s fist. Any sound he might make is choked out of him, and there’s only a strangled silence and the quick sure sound of Loghain’s hand, as he guides Oren through his orgasm.

Then all at once the hand at Oren’s throat is gone, and Loghain shifts, bending, taking his spent cock in his mouth, sucking hard enough it feels like he may bruise.

Oren makes a startled cry, jerking bonelessly as the sensation rises, so sharp it’s almost painful.

But it’s gone nearly at once, and then Loghain is kissing him again, mouth tasting of copper and salt and sin.

A goodbye kiss.

They both know it.

“Loghain…” Oren’s voice cracks. Broken, ragged thing. “For the crimes you have committed against Fereldan, you will be put to death.”

The room is perfectly quiet. As is Loghain’s expression. But he reaches down and brushes the backs of his knuckles across the faint stubble on Oren’s cheek. The only bit of tenderness he has shown the entire night.

His eyes shine faintly with approval.

Oren slides a hand across his own abdomen, half expecting to find himself gutted and bleeding though Loghain had tossed away the sword. It hurts just as much.

More, even.

He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, as much to stop the ragged sounds of his breathing as to scrub away the feeling of the kiss, of the taste of himself and Loghain in his mouth.

It is a small group who gathers in the early morning for the execution. The weather in the courtyard is properly morose. The sky, a solid sheet of grey, dark with the threat of rain. It is wet everywhere, the trees droop, heavy with dew, and the ground is scattered with silver-brown puddles.

It is a rather peaceful place to die.

None of Loghain’s supporters are present. Neither is the Queen. But Alistair is there, dressed in his Warden armor, and hefting a great, two-handed sword. He has a wide silver band upon his brow, not precisely a crown, but a clear mark of his new status. With his hair slicked back, and his expression dark and severe, he looks nothing at all like the young man he’d been — and every inch a King.

In turn, Loghain looks like the man he’s always been. Straight backed and severe, head to toe in black doeskin and velvet, with his hair loose upon his shoulders. He looks like the whole affair is beneath him. The spectacular bruising across the bridge of his nose and beneath both eyes is all that is out of place.

“Loghain Mac Tir,” Alistair’s voice cuts through the silence. “For crimes against Ferelden and her people, and for grievous harm done to the Order during a blight; the Ferelden Wardens sentence you to death. Kneel.”

Nothing shifts in Loghain’s expression as he drops silently to his knees. He obeys, but concedes nothing.

Alistair raises his sword, the weight of it dragging against time itself. Slowly slowly the world stills.

A drop of rain suspended in the sky.

It might be blood. It ought to be blood.

Red. Crimson. Burgundy.

The first time they kissed, Loghain wore a burgundy tunic.

Oren closes his eyes. Hears his own breath begin to splinter apart.

He knows what happens next. The slice of the sword. The thunk and squish of finality. The silence. Long, dark hair spilling across the flagstones, still and wet. Grey-blue eyes unseeing, slowly filling with rain.

Oren gags.

“L-Loghain…” His voice is weak. Scratchy and half-broken from the bruises from Loghain’s hands that ring his throat. He coughs, nearly retching, and steps forward. “Loghain…” He takes another, and then another, and then his feet carry him, tripping over himself, stumbling as he rushes forward faster than the blade can fall. “I conscript you to the Wardens!” It feels like something tears, and he clutches at his throat, coughs again, and spits out blood. “Loghain Mac Tir, I conscript you to the Wardens.” This time at least, his voice is clear.

Stillness.

Silence.

No matter how long he lives he’ll never forget the look on Alistair’s face.

A raw thing, torn open and bleeding for the world to see. Then Alistair swallows it all behind a mask of utter blankness. He lowers the sword slowly. “Out.”

No one moves.

“Everyone, out!” Alistair bellows.

It takes a moment. Long, shocked moments of silence and shuffling feet before the courtyard is cleared. Only the Wardens, and the new Warden conscript remain.

It begins to rain.

Loghain turns to Oren, still kneeling. “Have you gone mad?” he asks mildly.

“The Wardens need men.” He answers Loghain, but looks at Alistair, pleading. “Whatever they’ve done... their crimes are erased once they are conscripted and take the joining.”

Alistair’s shoulder’s shift, a nervous sort of twitch like he wants to shake his head, but can’t.

“I’m sorry,” Oren tells Alistair raggedly.

“I told you it was your decision, so I’ll stand by it.” A breath, and Alastair flings the sword to the ground in a clatter of steel, expression stony. “But I won’t make that mistake again.”

He stalks away just as the skies spill in earnest. The rain becomes a downpour, a rush of sound that swallows even the broken sounds of Oren’s breathing. A single flicker of lighting arcs across the sky.

Oren closes his eyes, thunder in his ears. Rain sting the back of his neck, and slide beneath his collar. He doesn’t realize he’s tipping over until he feels his knees slam into the wet cobblestones.

He feels Loghain’s arms come up around him, fingers at the collar of his uniform, undoing the buttons, easing the constriction against his throat. It takes a few moments kneeling together in the rain, but Oren’s breath comes easier.

“He hates me now,” Oren says hoarsely.

“It’s me he hates.”

Oren shakes his head wearily. “I’ve married him to a woman who doesn’t love him. Bedded him to a woman who can’t stand him. And now this.”

Loghain snorts. “If keeping his favor was so important, you should not have spared me.”

Oren feels something slide down the bridge of his nose. Tears, or rain. “Why is throwing people away so easy for you?”

“You mistake what is easy, for what is necessary,” Loghain sighs. “I’m not sure you’ll make a very good hero.”

“Unlike you?”

Loghain takes a deep breath. “I am not so concerned with being good.”

“Well that’s a fucking revelation.” Oren mutters.

Unbelievably, Loghain laughs. It isn’t a cruel sound. Or a bright one. It is soft and strangely warm.

It is still raining heavily.

And Loghain’s arms are still around him.

Oren swallows hard. “Why is it so easy to fall in love, and so hard to fall out of it?”

Loghain doesn’t reply.

And he doesn’t let go.

“I didn’t spare you,” Oren elaborates after a moment. “You may die in the joining. Or get promptly eaten by an archdemon if you don’t. And the uniforms are itchy.”

“I consider myself unspared.” Loghain says solemnly.

And together they sit in the rain, not speaking. Not moving.

And for a brief moment, Oren thinks he feels the touch of a feather-light kiss upon his brow, but he can’t be sure.

1/1 my tumblr writing masterpost

#dragon age orgins #m!Cousland x Loghain #cousland x loghain #my fic

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bunieluv · 5 months ago

Text

ᰔ minecraft story mode deaf jesse au ᰔ

pairing || male jesse x lukas (jesskas)

content warnings || inspiration somewhat taken from a silent voice, this au has themes of bullying, child abuse, self worth issues, and the general undertones of the ‘perfect child�� syndrome.

summary || a love story about independence vs interdependence, and battling self-worth issues as the top student is framed for bullying his deaf classmate, and must find a way to overcome his flaws in order to prove that he is not a bad person. based off of the hc that jesse lost some of his hearing after the formidi-bombs explosion.

information under the cut!

World

Beacon High School is a school filled with students of all different ability and culture. The students of Beacon High School are full of life and believe that everyone should be given equal opportunity, regardless of their backstory.

In this AU, characters from Minecraft: Story Mode take the roles of teachers and students attending this school. Romeo is the headmaster, Xara is the deputy head, Gordon/The Warden is the school secretary, and the Old Order of the Stone are teachers of the different subjects. The new Order of the Stone, the Blaze Rods, the Beacontown townsfolk will be taking the role of the students. The main cast are in Year 12/11th grade, making them 16-17 years old.

In this AU, female Jesse and male Jesse are twin siblings rather than gendered counterparts. Female Jesse is referred to as ‘Jessica’ while male Jesse keeps his name. Ivor and Harper serve as the twins’ father and step mother respectively. Additionally, Jack and Nurm serve as Petra’s adoptive fathers and Soren is a father figure to the Jesse twins, as the ex-husband of their father and one of their primary carers during their childhood.

The plot of this AU focusses on the undertones of the perfect child, Lukas, and how the maltreatment of a child detriments them in their later lives. In the beginning of their academic year these unlikely group of students are sardined together into Mr. Soren’s form group, and then Jesse becomes the target of the Ocelot’s bullying. Lukas’ reputation, despite being the only one who spited the idea of bullying Jesse and abstained, takes the hit for it, and Lukas resolves to regain the trust of Jesse, who had captured his attention. However, now people are standing in his way, and he must face all the worst things about himself for Jesse’s sake.

Jesse’s information

Aged 16. When Jesse was a child, he was involved in a freak accident which damaged his ears and is now medically recognised as deaf, meaning that he has little hearing ability. Jesse was left with some residual hearing after his accident, however this is not a lot and is severely muffled by white noise and tinnitus. It has to be a pretty loud sound in order for Jesse to interpret it, which is why Jesse uses hearing aids to amplify these sound waves to interpret them easier. As a statement yes these hearing aids are worn on his own volition, and in no way a refusal of his right to exist as a deaf person.

Jesse has the ability to speak, as he had learnt how to speak fluently prior to the accident. However, he often prefers non-verbal communication in sign language (most likely to be ASL considering MC:SM would probably be produced somewhere near the USA) as reading lips is only about 30% successful and with the amount of straining he has to do to hear often leaves him feeling fatigued. He feels he is only able to hold conversations with two people max, ergo he tends to hang out in small groups. When Jesse does speak, it is comprehensible and near perfect, though very soft and uncertain.

Jesse’s deafness is not exclusively limited to his hearing loss. There are other side effect that come with his deafness due to the injury in his middle and inner ear. Jesse is constantly seen tripping over, and this is for two reasons; the first reason being that the inner ear damage has caused problems with his balance, and the second is that having to focus so intently on the sounds around him interfered with his ability to walk around carefully. He is also more prone to headaches as a result of his chronic tinnitus, which makes getting rest significantly harder for him than for others.

Jesse reacts more violently to his other senses as a result of losing his sense of hearing. This is why Jesse is often more uncomfortable to scents, and responds to touch more than the average person might.

Jesse’s auditorial challenge posed him some troubles in his life, as it interfered with his way to communicate with a hearing world. Because of this, Jesse was frequently misinterpreted by his classmates and became a victim of ostracism and bullying. Despite this, Jesse has always kept a positive outlook on life, happy to be alive and accepting that his deafness is a part of who he is, and it’s other people that are the problem. Even if his immediate family does not agree with this way of thinking, and are very protective of him and how others treat him.

Jesse is a sweet and compassionate person with an easy going attitude. He is shown to be very forgiving even if it other people would have refused their apology, if they are expressing sincere regret towards their actions. He doesn’t feel that it is necessary for people to treat him differently to others because of his auditorial challenge since he is just as well off as everyone else- his grades are decent and he is able to fluently understand 3 languages (English, Spanish and ASL), so he is quick to dismiss any feelings of pity or concern towards him by projecting the more positive parts of his personality.

Lukas’ information

Aged 16.

Lukas is the concept of a perfect child. He is polite, respectful and selfless, and is often relied on by students and teachers with his willing he is to help them in his own free time. Additionally, he is academically smart and athletic (notably strong considering he practices archery) which emphasises the positive traits about himself. He is very diplomatic and does not hold people to their old selves, believing that everyone deserves a chance to be happy.

Because of these high expectations placed upon him by other people, Lukas often does not think he is good enough. In his eyes, he is inadequate, and thus he often does not do good things for himself and busies himself with the wellbeing of others, making him very generous. Much unlike Jesse, he internalises and blames himself for the things that happen to himself, rationalising it saying ‘if I had done…instead’. Lukas does not hold grudges towards people, most notably his mother, who he loves quite dearly despite Petra’s family thinking she is cruel. His perfect façade seems to hide his deep insecurities, and it means he treats people politely even if they don’t deserve it.

Lukas was born into a wealthy family, and he really didn’t enjoy it. His father was frequently working and so his mother was the primary carer of him, and she had her twisted beliefs on life. Despite being supportive and nurturing his academic life, Lukas’ mother is manipulative and controlling, and Lukas often feels guilted into abiding by what she wants for him, micromanaging his life and being told that some harmless things he wants to do are way worse comparatively given who he is. This conditioning meant that Lukas had felt powerless and without a sense of self, following what his family wanted for him.

Throughout his life, Lukas has always been academically gifted. He had been moulded into a perfectionistic child, which is why his feelings of inadequacy hit so much harder. Lukas had began to push himself beyond his limits just because his mother was compelling him to, even if she had a pretence of worry towards his health. For a while he had been feeling completely isolated, even if he was the boy that everyone wished they could be.

Lukas didn’t want any of that. He didn’t care about being popular or desirable, he wanted to be a writer. But other plans had been put in place for his future.

Lukas had befriended the Ocelots after saving them from their bullies. He had been surprised when they had looked up to him like a leader— in the most sense, he wanted to be their equal and he wanted to be their friend. Although he did take on a lot of leader like qualities, teaching them alternatives to coping with their stress which are not harmful to themselves. Despite Lukas convincing his mother that the Ocelots were good people, she was still hesitant and suspicious of them, wanting rid of them but having no reason to remove them from Lukas’ life at that moment.

#jesskas #mcsm jesse #mcsm lukas #mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm au #deaf jesse au

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crowtaclysm · 5 months ago

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I also got into pressure and made a Pressure self insert sort of!

Meet Rivet Stitch!

He got yoinked by UrbanShade because he along with a coulple of friends were tryin to gather intel on the company to expose all the horrible things they had done, plan didn't go as accordin though when the hacker of the group accidentally triggered security, Rivet and his friends had to make a run for it but in their desperation to escape they threw him under the bus, leavin him to get caught. As punishment he was used for experimentation and kept in the site, forced to comply and work as "The Warden" via various control devices they had on him.

He seemed to get along with Sebastian and tolerated anyone he considered innocent working at the site(like janitorial staff and such), when the lockdown happened the control devices he had on went off, leavin him paralyzed and in pain, with no hope to escape, it was Sebastian who found him first and removed them for him.

Nowadays he stays in the site as he knows he has no chance at returnin to society while lookin like this. He resents his ex-friends, not only for usin him to save their asses but because he knows(and it's true) that they never again tried to get in, hack or even contact him to see if he was still alive.

After years of knowin Sebastian as well as spendin time with him after the lockdown, they grew close together, started datin and are currently "married". Rivet is not a big fan of marriage and would rather avoid it, but he went along with Sebastian because he seemed happy with the idea, he likes matching marriage rings with him and loves bein called husband/hubby by Sebastian.

Rivet has the DNAs of a Leopard Seal, a Lion Fish, a Lancetfish, a Shortfin Mako Shark, an Inland Taipan, a Flashlight Fish and [REDACTED]

Size wise he's not as long as Sebastian but he's larger than him, Seb reaches at about Rivet's shoulders. The redacted creature in his DNA is what gives him his size. Rivet is also both venomous due to the Inland Taipan as well as poisonous due to the Lion Fish. His bite as well as anything green and sharp are to be avoided if you want to survive.

His game mechanic has him stalkin the player most of the times, he always spawns in thouse rooms with windows that have Naval Mines outside, he'll be hidin behind thouse, makin constant eye contact. He only becomes a threat whenever the player is underwater, be it crossin a big openin on the site followin the beacons or in flooded rooms. His tell will be the loud scratchin of his claws against the floor and walls as well as his hissin and growlin as he rushes towards the player. If he doesn't see you he very much acts like an Angler(will rush in and out at least twice and at most five times), minus takin the lights out. If he does see you however you'll have to hide in a locker and will get a minigame similar to Pandemonium's or you can avoid him by hidin somewhere out of reach like a vent or a small crevice, he'll claw at it for a bit before givin up and leavin.

Lastly he also has a mechanic in which he will use his natural glow to make the player think it's a beacon and lure them into a hole in the wall that leads to water before swipin at them and draggin them in, if you have another player close by you'll be able to be rescued by them at the cost of 50 points of damage that continuously drain overtime due to his poison unless you use a medkit or pay Sebastian to remove the poison out of you(if you pay him you'll get an easter egg of Rivet laughin and lookin at you from the hole on the ceilin of Seb's shop, Sebastian will also let out a small amused chuckle at Rivet's mockery), if you're solo or your friends are too far it's an instant kill, the tell is easy however as real beacons also have smoke comin out of them while Rivet's fakeout only has the green glow.

And now, a WIP of the gays under the cut:

Lord this sketch is so messy, I'll try to finish it tomorrow.

#Crow's art #Crow's OCs #Rivet's tag #pressure #pressure roblox #pressure oc #pressure self-insert #sebastian solace #sebastian solace pressure #pressure sebastian #pressure sebastian solace #digital art #deep sea #deep sea creatures #urbanshade #hadal blacksite #artists on tumblr

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choochooboss · 11 months ago

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Introducing your station master & Magma event host!

Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!

I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!

This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!

How did I get into submas in the first place?

PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!

I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)

However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...

My other interests besides submas?

Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!

Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!

Other things I do:

Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!

Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!

I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!

Where can you meet me?

I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.

I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)

Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.

With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!

About my social battery:

I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!

Which pronouns do I go with?

I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!

I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.

More about my AD(H)D:

I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.

How do I manage to keep myself on track?

I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:

I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!

How to catch me?

Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.

What am I working on at the moment?

Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.

I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!

The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!

The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!

This train has reached the terminal!

Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!

ALL ABOARD!!

#Personal #Introduction

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tobiasdrake · 13 days ago

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Final Origin: the Mage origin, which is the only origin available to two races but only one class, rather than two classes and one race.

The Circle of Magi exists as a response to the Tevinter Imperium. Indeed, sustaining its existence is a core function of the Chantry. Arguably its main function.

"Magic exists to serve man and not to rule over him." They speak these words as a mantra. It's unclear when exactly Andraste allegedly said this, given that she'd been super dead for over 150 years before the Chantry even formed.

According to Knight-Commander Greagoir here, she said this while she was casting down the Tevinter Imperium. This is not a thing that happened. Andraste's husband Maferath famously sold her out to the Tevinter Magisterium, who took her into custody and put her to death.

So that's. Just. A lie. The Chantry is lying. There was no big action hero moment where Andraste struck down Tevinter forever, ended all magical oppression, and delivered a badass one-liner about keeping the mages in line as she did it. This never happened.

Andraste, Maferath, and Shartan's revolution reshaped the map of Thedas for centuries to come. The end of the war was messy in the way that wars often are. Neither Andraste nor Maferath lived to see the formation of the Chantry in a country neither of them were even from.

And all of this is the foundation for why mages live in bondage. It's collective punishment for the unresolved hostility that still exists to this day between Tevinter and the Alamarri and Ciriane tribes.

It also doesn't actually mean shit.

The codex entry History of the Circle tells a very different and... depressingly realistic story of how the Circle of Magi truly came to be.

During the Divine Age, the first century of the Chantry, mages were originally just... workforce laborers. They were employed to light candles and dust rafters and other mundane tasks.

The mages in Val Royeaux staged a sit-in protest. They snuffed all the sacred flames, barricaded the cathedral, and refused to leave. Naturally, upon realizing the mages' discontent, Chantry leadership saw reason and--

No, I'm kidding. The Templars had to talk Divine Ambrosia down from declaring an Exalted March against her own cathedral and slaughtering every last protesting mage on the premises.

The protest lasted for 21 days and the end-result was the Circle of Magi.

That is the origin story of the Circle. It's a tense compromise between a group of mages who didn't want to work as serfs and an unhinged leader who wanted them all dead for defying her. Everything else is just rhetoric to justify a violent response to labor force unionization that's become normalized and perpetuated to this day.

Like the Grey Wardens, the Circle of Magi has its own top-secret initiation trial that no one must ever know. They feed mages to demons and then hire whoever survives.

Ostensibly, the Circle exists to minimize the risk of demon influence and possession over mages. In practice, every single Circle mage - every single one, no exceptions - has spent at least some time in an unmonitored space directly engaging in some way with a demon. By design.

So, dragged from your room and thrust unprepared into the Fade, the Mage origin begins. The Fade is populated by demons and by spirits.

The Mage is sent into the Fade for their Harrowing and the goal is to face down a demon and come back unpossessed.

It's kind of a shitshow, for the purpose that it's meant to fulfill.

Mouse is a character who introduces himself to the Mage pretty early into the Fade journey. He alleges to be an ex-mage who was killed by the Templars because his Harrowing took too long. He's actually a Pride Demon and so any personal anecdote he has to share is automatically unreliable since he was never there.

Weirdly, he's not the test? The Mage slays a Rage Demon and the Harrowing successfully ends shortly thereafter. Mouse just makes pithy comments about the perils of pride for... I guess educational purposes?

Does he--

Jowan, tell Elf Jowan to stop walking in front of my bunk. I'm trying to sort my thoughts.

Anyway, what was I saying? Right. Does he work here? Does the Circle keep a Pride Demon on staff to trick mages into trusting him and then harmlessly finger-wag at them and let them go? Because that violates so much of what the Harrowing is supposed to be about if so.

Though not nearly as much as the fact that you can chitchat with a Sloth Demon during the Harrowing and it works out great. They teach Mouse to become a bear and then Bear Form Mouse helps you defeat the Rage Demon with no drawbacks or downsides!

I persuaded a Sloth Demon to power up my best buddy Pride Demon and together we passed my Harrowing with flying colors! Communing with demons is fucking rad and I'm glad the Circle dragged me out of bed at night and forced me to learn that or I'd have never known.

And, again, this is the trial that every single mage in the Circle with no exceptions undergoes. Kinda explains a lot, don't it?

Of course, there's also the mages that get made Tranquil instead.

Tranquility was always an alarming concept. They break your connection to the Fade, ripping out your emotions and your dreams.

The context of Veilguard makes it all the more horrifying, when you realize that it's effectively the same thing as what the Evanuris did to the Titans. That shit created the Blight, and the Rite of Tranquility is cut from the same cloth.

I'm so glad we've managed to independently reinvent and mass-distribute one of the Dread Wolf's greatest shames.

Politics within the Circles are generally divided between four and a half factions.

Loyalists follow Chantry law to the letter.

Libertarians seek liberation from the Chantry, whatever that entails.

Isolationists want to live far, far away from civilization and never interact with anyone, which is basically what the Circle already is except without the murderous police state around every corner.

Lucrosians just wanna make bank, a concept that is... honestly confusing within the context of the Circle. We're confined to a tower; What are we supposed to spend the money on?

Those are the four key factions: Chantry Apologists, Revolutionaries, Aspiring Wildmen, and Inexplicable Capitalists.

Then there's the Aequitarians, whose political position is to make nice between the parties and not take any political positions. They're the Insufferable Centrist party.

Cullen is trying to flirt with me by telling me he would have stabbed me to death and then felt miserable about it if the Chantry ordered him to.

This is what passes for romance in the Circle Tower. In the Orzammar Palace, it was, "Want me to have that guy killed, dearest? My life for yours." In the Brecilian Forest, it was, "Let's go find ancient secrets and fuck up some humans, but as a couple!"

Here it's, "Apropos of nothing, that ritual we dragged you out of bed and forced you into against your will could have ended with my blade sticking out of your ribs. Want to go to dinner and discuss more pleasant ways you can be impaled?"

No thank you, Cullen. I don't date my would-be executioners. And by that I mean all Templars, not just the guy assigned to Guillotine Duty.

Jowan is sort of the payoff for the Pride Demon's inexplicable lesson. Like Mouse, Jowan is actually playing the Mage from the get-go. He fears that they intend to make him Tranquil due to rumors of him practicing blood magic.

The rumors are correct. Jowan is practicing blood magic.

In fact, he's phenomenal at it.

According to Greagoir, what Jowan pulls off here is a remarkably impressive feat of blood magic. They came here ready to counter a blood mage but weren't expecting a top-tier blood magister. Jowan's got a gift.

What makes this fun is that there are two ways this quest can go down. In either version, the Pride Demon's warning rings true. Either the Mage was a fool for trusting Jowan, or Jowan was a fool for trusting the Mage. One of these two made a mistake no matter how you slice it.

What we have with the Circle of Magi is a ticking time bomb, no matter what country you're in. The tension and hostility that exists between mages and their captors is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

Greagoir and Irving are probably the most civil that a Knight-Commander and a First Enchanter can be. And yet the tension is still there. Irving is under no illusions about the power dynamic at play and he fucking hates that he has to be all pretty smiles and civil decorum.

He has a spiteful loathing of the Chantry that comes out if you warn him about Jowan and Lily's conspiracy.

He knows they're gonna hang Jowan for this, metaphorically speaking, and he wants to hang Lily right next to Jowan.

Irving learns that one of his mages is so desperate to avoid being made Tranquil that he's going to try to escape. That Jowan and Lily are planning to run away together because they're in love.

And his response is, "The Chantry's going to take one of mine so I'm going to take one of theirs in return. The priestess bleeds too."

This kind of resentment, this bitterness, fear, and hopelessness, is what the Circle of Magi cultivates. Even their leaders are chomping at the bit to strike back at their captors in whatever ways they can.

It's manufacturing plant for mass-producing desperation in the very people the Chantry fears most.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #revisiting dragon age #veilguard spoilers

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sepublic · 7 months ago

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From Pilot to Canon, Luz and Eda

With my belief that No Tree Left Behind was boarded as part of the pilot continuity (hence Lilith's depiction), I want to bring up that I think there's kind of a subtle difference between Luz in that episode, or 'Pilot Luz', and Canon Luz as we got in the actual animated show.

With Canon Luz, she's a more brash, confident individual, who can get in over her head; King mentions that she smells of overconfidence, plus there's Luz recklessly getting into stuff like in Covention or Enchanting Grom Fright in the heat of the moment. She has this overwhelming energy and enthusiasm that's unstoppable, but as a result she can sometimes forget about the people around her, hence Wing it like Witches.

And a lot of that has to do with Luz's relationship with The Good Witch Azura in canon, because it means that the Boiling Isles is her fantasy!!! It's her chance, it's her adventure, it's what Manny would push her to go for! So she gives it her all. And in the latter half of the show, Luz's willingness to go at any cost, even to her own detriment, borders on self-sacrifice. In a way she's secretly atoning for her own existence, it's like... 'Socially acceptable' self-harm by risking herself.

So there's a difference in Pilot Luz during NTLB, who is much more averse to the martyr idea; She's a lot more scared and reluctant to fight for Arborgeist, and in a moment of crisis admits she doesn't quite get what Eda is so worked up about. And this makes me think of how the in the pilot continuity, there isn't that same relationship with Azura; The pitch bible reveals we would've had an episode where it's revealed to be written by an ex of Eda's about her, so you can guess that Luz drops it afterwards.

And as the pilot even shows us, Luz didn't choose to be in the Boiling Isles! And in lieu of my latest reblog, that feels relevant because Dana mentioned how in the final show, Luz choosing that was so incredibly important; It was a foundational change to the character's storyline. Luz wants to be here, she wants to risk it, this is the adventure and if she gets bruised up, it's okay. Us weirdoes have to stick together, she declares passionately as she rallies a bunch of strangers against Warden Wrath in the first episode. She becomes in canon the kind of passionate, righteous person who will talk your ear off about a thing and she's right about it.

So looking at the difference between first episodes, it tracks that Pilot Luz is much more reluctant and just trying to survive, hence her not 'getting' Arborgeist, in the sense that she doesn't see what's worth potentially dying over. Whereas with Canon Luz, I think she'd be more than willing to deep dive into this culture and play the hero, she's a social activist.

This isn't to trash on Pilot Luz btw, nor canon Luz; I just find it fascinating to consider how her character has changed and developed, how the story has, and how the difference in first episodes alludes to this. First episodes are very important, they can establish a lot of the core themes and ideas and Dana herself confirmed the significance of certain differences from the initial pilot. So it's fascinating seeing that difference in action, shown to us, rather than having to be told, since normally we couldn't watch the pilot storyboards to see for ourselves. Pilot Luz and Canon Luz are different characters with different flaws and circumstances, and they're both beautiful in their own ways for it.

I'd even argue that in a canon episode like WilW, Luz ends up playing the role Eda has in NTLB! And her stepping down after realizing she (might) hurt a loved one who was dragged into this, only for them to understand how much they care and come back to help for that reason... The story beats live on. Canon Luz would probably be thrilled to see Pilot Eda show so much care about something when she normally doesn't; Whereas Canon Eda becomes more of a practical guardian who's reining her kid in out of experience, because she's been hurt herself and is worried, and a tad pessimistic.

It's like the dynamics between Luz and Eda reversed from pilot to canon, with a scared and reluctant kid and her mentor who can push her too much sometimes; And now it's this overconfident, excited kid who wants to try everything and thinks she's invincible, with her jaded mentor who's a realist but also she cares more than you realize and wants to provide a safety net, being surprisingly thoughtful at times.

It makes sense, because again going back to my last reblog, Luz being more enthusiastic about the isles was to also help her foil other characters better, including Eda, and vice-versa. So it's possible Eda was changed to lean more into her pragmatic mentor role -Not that she doesn't still have her irresponsible, reckless moments- while bouncing off of Luz's new enthusiasm, which can lead to conflict like Luz wanting to try the newest magic and Eda not being in the mood, which leads to Luz being a bit reckless (take for example The Intruder).

Eda being more tired and jaded could also tie to the development of her curse as a disability that exhausts her, since in the pilot continuity the curse only made her age more; In canon, it does that AND messes with her magic stores, which leads to more exhaustion! In addition to becoming a beast. And with Eda becoming disillusioned with the isles due to her traumatic experiences, Luz acts as the light in her life to reignite her passion, which leads to Eda taking a more proactive role against Belos in S2!

She believes in her efficacy more because of how Luz changes the isles because of Eda, which makes Eda become more of an agent for social change as she starts to believe she can make a difference again, just as she did as a teen in IFWOT. Maybe Eda's curse isn't something to feel shame over anymore, maybe she shouldn't let it stop her from rallying everyone...!

Thus, there's not just a difference between Pilot and Canon Luz, but also Pilot and Canon Eda in NWLB. Though I imagine Canon Eda would still help to defend the Arborgeist tree, I'm not as sure about her confidence in attempting to rally others to do the same; She's got that loner vibe who assumes she has to do everything on her own because her own family and lover wouldn't support Eda in her defiance to the coven... But now she does have support in Luz. And King. And some of those loved ones are turning around too, no thanks to Luz's arrival inspiring some!

All this helps culminate in the S1 finale with Eda being used as a rallying cry against Belos, signaling the beginning of the end for his regime as she inspires not just a kid like Luz but other youths like Gus and Willow, and even helps chaperone Grom after avoiding Hexside for years; Eda’s really starting to believe again and she admits that Luz has gotten into her head as the cause.

#the owl house #the owl house pilot #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #meta #analysis #character analysis

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somerandomcryptid · 3 months ago

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These sketches are an absolute mess but I want to talk about AiE!Sam so I'm afraid you aren't getting anything better right now :)

Now if you remember anything about the previous sketches I've done for a much more snakey Sam then you might be slightly confused but don't worry. That Sam is still intact. In fact much more intact then this one!

This is just the Sam that the character of Sam, warden of Pandora's vault was based on. But for the purposes of least confusion we will refer to the real Sam as Sam and the character as Awesam from now on.

Warning for mentions of murder and very vague descriptions of the state Sam's body was in when it was found.

Sam Isenberg was one of the early developers on Adventures in Esempi before his mysterious murder in early 2011 The killer is completely unknown as of now. But Sam's body was found in his apartment. Rather disfigured as well. But despite the torn up state of the apartment and victim, no traces of evidence for police to follow were left. Sam's life before his tragic end was quite full though. And he was a well accomplished person. Beloved by many despite how XD, his ex-wife and fellow developer on Adventures in Esempi describes him as quote "One of the biggest snakes I've ever met. He was the kind of guy who works with you for years and then turns without any notice or reason." This may have been referring to the fact that shortly before Sam's death he was filing for divorce and attempting to get full custody of his and XD's two children, a case left unresolved after the fact.-A telling of his life was supposed to be written out and published by Sam's son Dream. But Dream also went missing only 2 months after the announcement and the book never came out. XD still seeming to hold animosity for his ex-husband and never picking up the project despite being asked to by the public and allegedly his teenage daughter. But we do have some things about Sam's early life and feel it's important to share what we know. Sam was born in 1972 to two loving parents and lived most of his early childhood in Texas before moving to Florida when he was 14. This is where he would meet XD and live the rest of his life.-From our information he was a kid that got sick pretty often -a trait that passed onto his son-resulting in him tending to wear a face mask for much of his childhood and through his teenage years, though his immune system would improve in his 20s The first murder/missing case that would happen around Sam would happen in 1988 when he was 16, being a very close friend who formed a friendship trio with him and XD. The next missing cases that would pop up around him would be in his college years, a classmate and professor respectively His life would not all be dreary though! In 1994 Sam would announce his engagement with XD and they would get married the following year. And the following year after that, 1996 their first child would be born, Dream. From what we know the time of Dream's childhood and early teen years seems to have been a happy time for the family. Untill their second child, Drista was born in 2010 and well we've mostly covered Sam's short life after that.

And there's my man! He's actually so chill compared to Awesam. Too bad he's dead.

I do love how I am creating ships that absolutely no one will understand. Because I mean really.. Sam/XD is not something even I predicted.

I do love them though, just a guy/an extremely unhinged guy is a very fun dynamic

Plus I just love how much of an unreliable narrator XD is about the situation

Also I like their kids a lot.

I should really talk properly about ai!AiE!Sam/awesam though at some point. Because he's an absolute mess! There's just a plot point he features heavily in that idk if I want to spoil.

But I guess I've already spoiled a lot of stuff by even just talking about real!AiE!Sam soooooo oops

Anyway thas about it :)

@calamari-minecraft-corner

#Adventures in Esempi au #AiE!Sam #AiE!XD #AiE!Dream #c!awesamdude #c!sam #c!sam fanart #c!awesamdude fanart #dream smp au #cw murder #cw mentions of death

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probably-iron-deficiency · 1 year ago

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TWST x Kingdom Keepers #1

Idia Shroud

Welcome to my first official twst x kingdom keepers AU post!! I have,,, m a n y,,, thoughts for this AU, but my storyline for Idia is the most fleshed out right now. This is my VERY (very) rough sketch for him!!

AU/Character Notes below!!

Firstly…

What IS kingdom keepers?

It’s a book series from the early 2000s set in Disney World, but eventually expands to other disney locations as well. Following a group of middle schoolers, Disney has kids auditon to be part of their new “DHI” program (Disney Host Interactive), in which the kids will be motion captured and projected into the parks as holograms to act as virtual tour guides. However, the kids who become DHIs wake up in the parks in their hologram form after they sleep, and realize that all the rides/characters/animatronics/etc are REAL and come to life. Oh yeah also the disney villains have formed a coalition group called the Overtakers and they want to take over the world.

Obviously this series has some connections to TWST, so I think it’d be fun to explore the characters there! (Plus I make a TWST au for everything so-)

general au notes:

Scroll to next section if you just want AU Idia Lore!

these will be compiled in a master post later, but for some context here:

All characters are aged down in this AU!! First years are ages 11-12, second years are 13-14, and third years are around 15-16 (Leona being the oldest). There are some exceptions to this, though!

➡️➡️Ortho is 9 (truly a little baby😭😭). Lilia is 17, making him the oldest (ancient) member of the DHI kids.

Rather than just one area, the DHI gang were scouted/auditioned from all over the world. By chance, some of the characters already know eachother or are aware of eachother (similar to canon). When they all showed up for audiovisual recording to be done, it was a little chaotic.

In order to theme their hosts in accordance with the parks, these DHIs were assigned to different units that correspond to different disney properties.

Each unit acts as the hosts for different areas of the magic kingdom, corresponding to their theming. (Ex. Ignihyde/Tomorrowland) however, in later updates to these DHIs, and due to their popularity, guests can choose which DHI to interact with in ANY area of the park through their smartphones.

Unlike the original book, some DHIs were given altered appearances in order to better suit the theming (I.E, Heartslabyul members having card suit face paint, Ignihyde members having blue flame hair).

Each unit also has a unit leader, who serves as the default host selection in their respective regions. These are the house wardens in canon.

notes about Idia:

He is 15 in this AU! Still a gamer though.

His parents are pretty high and mighty in the tech industry, leading him and Ortho to be interested in pursuing it as well.

He’s always wearing the same exact pajamas, barring his constantly rotating armada of cringe 2010s hot topic anime tshirts. (Vil has tried to convince him to get some other clothes. This does not go well).

Him and Ortho made matching friendship bracelets for eachother when they were young, and haven’t taken them off since!

The yellow around his (and ortho’s) iris’ are almost neon, and will shine in the dark like an animals. This gives them a vaguely cat like appearance.

Him and Ortho were homeschooled through very expensive tutors, for better or worse (definitely worse)

Once they begin meeting the other DHI units, Idia begins sleeping with his noise cancelling headphones so they spawn in with him. These people are just too loud.

some Idia origin story notes (not everything!! I wanna write some fics detailing the events more):

The Shroud bros decided to audition to be DHIs out of their mutual want to “become heroes” like in their favorite games and Disney movies (and because they were interested in the new tech)

They both passed the audition, and recorded their lines and mocap stuff smoothly! Unfortunately, soon after the brothers were in an accident that left Ortho near death.

He survived, but has since been comatose, with the doctors projecting an extremely low chance of survival. Although Idia’s parents aren’t hopeful about the circumstances, they agree to keep him on life support because of Idia’s mental state.

(despite the tragic event, the Shroud bros DHIs roll out anyways, and Idia uses the money to pay off the hospital bills. His parents could afford it, but Idia feels responsible)

Since then, Idia has been staying with Ortho in the hospital, never once leaving his side. With his parent’s weight in medical tech, it was pretty easy to allow him to stay there.

When Idia wakes up in the park, the first thing he notices is that his DHI’s flaming blue hair seems to have carried to him. Naturally, he assumes he’s dreaming.

Not long after waking in the park, he felt a familiar tug on the back of his hoodie. Turning, he was face to face with Ortho. Notably, Ortho was completely inhabiting his holographic form, not wearing pajamas but dressed in the style of his DHI.

OK THATS ALL FOR NOW BYE FEEL FREE TO SHARE ANY THOUGHTS OR WHATEVER (scuttles away)

#twisted wonderland #twst au #idia shroud #ortho shroud #kingdom keepers #twst fanart #twst fic #twisted keepers AU #I feel insane for making this but I’m in too deep now

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dr-malice · 7 months ago

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I honestly believe that superjail is purgatory

Warden has several different routes on what he could be, and I still need to do more research when it comes to that, but the best thing I've found so far is Abaddon the angel of the abyss, though as said I need to do more research

Here is a tiny tid bit of research, which would fit well for jailbot and the description of superjail

So while the evidence is loose, I could definitely see the creators loosely inspiring superjail off of purgatory

Another character role, that I'm still unsure of who it fits with but I'm more leaning towards the doctor with this role Primarily due to his ties to being an ex nazi scientist, since a lot unalived themselves during this time period, though, wouldn't work due to the lives lost during his work, but same could apply to the fact Cato was a military general, so either way lives were lost Though, this wouldn't work if the doctor was inspired off of Joseph Mengele, since he faked his death Which would make sense to a degree to the both of them looking (somewhat) similar, although Mengele was also called the angel of death, so who knows it could go both ways and I may just be looking too deep into it

But, there still leaves alice, and Jared, and then the flip side so ultraprison, but that's the same just for afabs just depends on who represents what. Though, they would more than likely represent a demon rather than a middle man

The doctor I think would be Cato due to being a middle man, and not really a prominent character, besides the couple of episodes, such as when he has certain words of advice which is a lot more than the rest of the characters are able to give (even if morally skewed at times, such as mayhem doner)

So imma update this thread when I have more evidence I just wanted to share this publically and get peoples ideas (also, I'm thinking that the twins may be fallen angels of some sort)

long story short, its not THE purgatory, but definitely a varient

#superjail #superjail puragatory #superjail theory #superjail theories #superjail is purgatory

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queenofzan · 1 year ago

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Playersexuality

It is super annoying when people use the excuse of "playersexual" video game characters to claim characters in video games aren't actually bi/pan, because there is a difference, and it's honestly not that hard to distinguish them!

For an example of a game that is doing playersexual characters who are not textually bisexual, look at Stardew Valley. I love Stardew Valley, but the way it handles sexuality bugs the shit out of me, and always has. If you romance Abigail with a female farmer, she actually mentions having never felt this way about another girl before, so clearly she is not intended to be bisexual. One of the first male romances I did (Sebastian or Elliot?) had a similar line. If you romance Leah, the gender of her ex will always match the farmer's gender, implying that Leah is into that specific gender. (I actually don't mind the Leah implementation of a playersexual character nearly as much as I do the "no homo" in the Abigail romance.)

To contrast that, I think of Dragon Age 2, where all characters are romanceable by any gender Hawke, and they express attraction to a variety of other characters. Anders hits on Hawke the same way regardless of Hawke's gender, and his ex Karl is always a man, while he references having sexual experiences alongside Isabela. Isabela expresses attraction to women (and was willing to have sex with female Wardens in Dragon Age: Origins) as well as men, and will end up in a physical relationship with Fenris if neither character is romanced by Hawke. These feel less like playersexual characters and more like a group of bisexuals hanging out, whether or not that's improbable.

There is a clear difference between a history and textual attraction to multiple genders and the Schroedinger's Ex Leah has. Schroedinger's Ex is less jarring to a player than a line from a character who otherwise reads as queer to a player suddenly saying "I've never had a gay feeling before", but it almost can't be bisexual representation, whereas a character who "no homo"s the player character could reflect or change their mind, representing a more complicated sexuality journey that, while not a particularly common one outside of romance-focused games, is not inherently homo- or bi-phobic.

So seeing people (presumably monosexuals, although it is possible these are bisexuals with internalized shit to work through) look at textually bisexual characters and deride them as playersexual pandering is both confusing and upsetting. There is nothing in the text of, for instance, Baldur's Gate 3, that implies Astarion has any particular surprise or confusion about being attracted to a woman, but some fans will argue that he's too effete to be anything but gay. That's not a gay character turned playersexual for mechanical or marketing convenience, that's fans being homophobic, biphobic, and arguably misogynist and claiming it's the fault of the game developers.

As a gamer who tries to be thoughtfully critical of games, I do think playersexual romances make sense from a marketing and gameplay perspective. I think locking content behind genders or species is a silly thing to do, particularly in a large game that takes a long time to play and is not specifically designed to be played through multiple times like many visual novels and dating sims. I would not count those characters as meaningfully bi or pansexual, even if (as a greedy bisexual) I want to count them as such in my heart. If there's nothing in the text to contradict it, they would really be bi or pan only in headcanon. The playersexual approach of "they're straight except for the very special PC" is problematic, if understandable. It would be less obnoxious in a setting that isn't mired in heteronormativity, because then at least I could believe this is an individual having revelations and new experiences rather than a game dev assuming all people are heterosexual until proven otherwise.

As a bisexual who is very tired of being marginalized by monosexuals, especially queer monosexuals who should know better, I wish people would stop trying to sound progressive and supportive of bisexuals when they are actively erasing and denying the existence of textual bisexuality that they don't understand or which makes them confused or uncomfortable. Even when playersexuality is transparently the reason everyone in the game is bi or pan, singling out the most effeminate men or masculine women and claiming they're "really" monosexuals reveals that the problem is not, in fact, playersexuality, but bisexuality, because it's apparently fine for the straighter-seeming romance options to be bi, but somehow problematic for the obviously queer ones to be.

It's possible some people doing this legitimately think they're helping bisexuals. But critiquing playersexuality should not mean policing the way queer characters act. If the problem is really playersexuality, or the specific implementation of it, then say that, instead of making arguments that are indistinguishable from those a Fox News anchor would make.

#video games #bisexuality #playersexual #i don't mean to pick on concernedApe i'm just very familiar with the game and it's a good example #and notably not every romance does the no homo thing! which is cool!#but it makes the ones that do stand out

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iambutmortal · 2 years ago

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Chapter 4 for @elucienweekofficial Day 5: Sunshine

Summary: When Elain signs the divorce papers she’s sure she’s done with Lucien Vanserra. Until they’re offered the chance to recreate their honeymoon as a part of her job. For free. But reliving all those memories with Lucien proves leaving may be more difficult than she thought.

Word Count: 2.8k

Authors Note: I had a bit of a brain crash yesterday, so this was supposed to be for day four. I'm either going to post three chapters in the next two days, or two longer chapters to make up for it, sorry.

Read on Ao3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

True to Lucien’s word, Elain was confined to the bed for overnight, while he ran around actin as a dutiful nursemaid and she grumbled and complained.

“I don’t think laying under an umbrella outside is going to change anything,” Elain moaned, for what felt like the thousandth time. “And I’m sick of this room.”

“Too bad,” Lucien said, handing her a mug of tea. “Interview is in three hours and you’re not stepping foot outside until then.”

“But—”

“Nope,” Lucien said. “And both Nesta and Cassian agreed before you start complaining about how mean I am. You need rest.”

Elain pouted, but took a sip of her tea. She felt the warmth work its way down her throat, and was relieved to find the sip didn’t leave her running to the bathroom. After a night of sleep her stomach had settled considerably, but she would much rather play it safe than sorry.

“Can I at least start to get ready?”

Lucien huffed and glanced down at his phone. “Give it another twenty minutes. I’ll get you a piece of toast to gnaw on.”

Elain muttered something rude at him, but grabbed the kindle from where she’d discarded it across the bed. She was still only halfway through the book she’d started on the plane, and the heroine had ended up in a small town. With her ex. Really it was getting far too realistic for her tastes.

Lucien, cruel warden, did relent when he came back and saw Elain was managed to keep the bread down.

“Go take a shower.”

Elain practically bounded out of bed, slamming the door on him.

“But sit down when you blow dry your hair,” he shouted at the wood.

Elain opened the door a crack, just enough to show him her middle finger.

Lucien’s laughter followed her, something warm burning in her chest. She did concede to sit on the bed to do her hair, definitely for Lucien and not because she felt a little light headed after standing on her feet for too long.

“Ready,” Lucien asked, when the clock hit four. He’d thrown on a pale yellow polo shirt and stiff tan pants, to match the white and yellow flowered sundress Elain had pulled out to wear. His hair was back in a neat ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame his face.

“Do we look home and garden approved?” Elain asked, sticking the last bobby pin in her hair. She’d done her best appropriation of beach waves, pinning the front sections gracefully behind her ears.

Cassian wasn’t officially on the job as photographer, but image had more power than anything in an interview.

“We’d fit right in Cassian’s magazine,” Lucien said, offering her a hand.

Elain took it, letting him pull her to her feet. And then held it as they walked through the resorts, savoring the feeling of calluses earned from the gym against her fingertips. Outside the air was so humid she could feel her hair curling in rebellion, frizzing around her temples. She cursed herself for not bringing anything to tame it with.

She reached up a hand to try and smooth it down.

“Your hair looks fine,” Lucien whispered, before throwing open the door to the conference room they’d be using.

Elain was almost instantly wrapped in a hug. “Oh my gosh it’s been so long,” gushed Mor, giving Elain a squeeze before pulling back to embrace Lucien.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Elain said. She had met Rhys’ cousin a handful of times, at the wedding and a few dinners around the holidays, whenever she could come from New York and had always liked the blonde woman. They’d had several long conversations over coffee on the latest fashion trends, or whatever celebrity was currently acting like a fool.

“I wasn’t,” Mor said. “But when I heard Viviane had you as an assignment I made her switch. She’s currently in Brazil covering fashion week.”

“That’s a hell of a trade on her part,” Lucien said, lacing his fingers with Elain’s and leading them over to the makeshift interview space set up. Three chairs, for Elain, Lucien, and Cassian, who was joining them later, stood across from the one Mor had already draped her red purse across.

“But I get to see you guys,” Mor replied, sweeping elegantly into her seat. “So I think I got the better deal.” She reached into her purse to pull out a small notebook and pen, both matching red, and flipped to an open page. “So,” she said, clicking the pen. “How are things going?”

“Good,” Elain squeaked.

Mor’s eyebrows arched dangerously close to her hairline. “Just good? A sharp decline from Christmas then.”

Elain could feel her face burning under the scrutiny.

Lucien tightened his grip on her hand, placing it on top of his thigh. “We’re in paradise, all expenses paid, with each other. What could be wrong?” His voice was innocently neutral, a perfect deflection of the question. God he would make such a good politician.

Mor tilted her head, golden blonde hair sliding over her shoulder in a silky sheet. “Alright, so what makes here paradise?”

“It was the first place we went while being married,” Elain said, meeting Mor’s brown eyes. “So it’s always going to have good memories associated with it.”

Mor tapped her pen against the notepad. “Bad answer. You could have stayed anywhere after your wedding. Why here?”

“Because I’ve always loved the beach,” Elain admitted. “We only got to go twice growing up because of money and both times it was magical seeing that much open water. Lucien took me to Santa Monica for our second date, so it only made sense to come to a beach for our honeymoon.”

Mor was nodding along to her story, scribbling furiously with her pen. “And Lucien? Why this resort?”

He cleared his throat. “I like to see Elain happy. And she never stopped smiling on our honeymoon.”

Mor gave a disapproving hum and Elain was reminded of why Mor was the top of the top in the industry. Every other interviewer would have gushed over that answer, and how romantic it was.

“And I didn’t get the chance to make a lot of good memories as a child,” Lucien continued after a moment. Because he’d grown up with his step father, Beron, who was by all accounts horrible. “So anytime I get to see someone I love happy I get a strong attachment to the place.”

“And how do you feel being back now?”

“It’s…different,” Elain said. Mor gestured for her to go on. “After three years we’re in a new place in our relationship retreading someplace old.”

“New good or new bad?” Mor asked.

“Just new,” Lucien answered quickly.

“So bad.” Mor underlined something on her notepad. “Elaborate.”

“It’s called a honeymoon period for, I don’t think people can be expected to stay in it forever,” Elain said defensively. “Not three years after the actual honeymoon.”

“Feyre and Rhys are still in theirs.”

“They’re the exception,” Elain said. “The rest of us don’t live in a fairytale.”

“Hard truth for a story about a fairytale honeymoon,” Mor said softly.

Elain was saved from responding by a knock on the door.

“Just a minute,” Mor called.

Cassian walked in anyway. “You’d leave me in the hall like a dog? I’m wounded.”

Mor rolled her eyes, but stood to press a kiss to his cheeks. “I missed you, you big oaf,” she said.

“Move back to LA then,” Cassian begged, taking the third seat. “Then I’ll never leave you alone.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Mor flipped to a fresh page. “We’ll come back to that conversation later.” She gave Elain a pointed look. “For now, Cassian, what’s the best part of working here?”

Cassian launched into a spirited discussion about the lighting and angles the resort offered, how he framed his shots, and what he was planning tomorrow when they went into the jungle.

“A lot of houses today are sharp angles,” he finished, “which is interesting, how do you make set shapes look dynamic, but this is just so different and it’s really pushing me to the limits.”

“Amazing,” Mor muttered. She looked up. “Anything to add, Nesta?”

Elain turned around to see her sister standing in the doorway. She’d been so engrossed in Cassian’s explanation about his work she hadn’t noticed her arrival.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I hadn’t quite realized how much work Cassian put into this, it’s nice to know I can trust my sister to him. I always thought this was just some blow off beach job for him.”

Cassian shook his head. “It was never a blow off job, Nes. None of them were.”

Nesta looked the most regretful Elain had ever seen her.

“So,” Mor said, “then what is it like to work with Cassian?”

Lucien was nice enough to take that question, gushing about how good of a director Cassian was while Cassian looked sheepishly pleased with himself.

Elain watched over his shoulder as Nesta slipped out of the doorway and back into the hall, with one final look towards Cassian, and made a mental note to talk to her about it later.

Mor worked her way through several more questions, teasing answers out of Elain, Lucien, and Cassian, until Cassian’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with a frown, scanning the message before quickly typing out a response.

“Is there a problem?” Mor asked.

“Sorry,” Cassian said apologetically, setting the phone down face first on the chair arm. Only to pick it right back up when it buzzed again. “I sent some concept photos in and they’re just now getting back to me.”

Mor nodded, waving for him to carry on, and turned back to Lucien to discuss what his possible political career held. Cassian was still typing, his frown deepening.

Elain leaned towards him. “What’s wrong,” she hissed.

Cassian startled. “It’s nothing.”

“Is it about what happened yesterday?” Elain asked, feeling guilty all over again.

Cassian shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not. It’s something I’ll handle.”

His phone rang and he sighed deeply. “I have to take this,” he whispered, sliding out of the room.

Mor and Lucien were still deep in conversation, and Elain made the split second decision to follow Cassian out. She had no doubt it was about yesterday, and had every intention of begging for forgiveness to the producers.

She made sure to shut the door behind her, lest Lucien find out and chastise her for making it her responsibility.

Cassian was pacing the hall, agitated. “I’m not doing it,” Cassian snarled at whoever was on the other end of the line. “So tell them to shove it.” A long pause. “What do you want me to say? Sorry your face looks like that, I'm only photographing the other side from now on?”

White hot anger shot through Elain at the words. She’d never quite understood the concept of seeing red before now, but her body felt like it was on fire. She cleared her throat, catching Cassian’s attention, and motioned for him to mute the phone.

“Tell them I’ll walk,” Elain said. “I’ll walk and they’ll have none of their photos then if they want to say a single thing about Lucien.”

“Elain—”

“And tell them that I’ll also make sure everyone knows what ablest assholes they are.”

“I can’t—”

“Tell them,” Elain ground out.

Cassian unmuted the phone and put it on speaker. “It’s going to be a no from Ms. Vanserra on retaking from a different angle.”

“Tell Ms. Vanserra she’s not the one in charge of this shoot.”

Elain cleared her throat. “Well Ms. Vanserra would like to remind everyone that her brother in law is Rhysand Night, and I’m sure he has a magazine that would love to cover what Cosmopolitan had to say about people with facial scarring.”

Elain could almost hear silent panic on the other end of the line. Because Rhys’ dad had given him full control over their media empire, and he was currently trying to expand into the fashion space. Something Elain was sure had the executives on the line very, very worried.

“I think there’s been a miscommunication,” said a voice through the speakers after a pregnant pause. “We just wanted to make sure Cassian was capturing a full range photos from all perspectives. To make sure he wasn’t missing something special”

“I think Cassian’s photos are very special,” Elain countered. “Especially with the framing he chose to use.”

Another long pause. “Looking at them again, I think you might be right, Ms. Vanserra.”

“I know,” Elain said, her tone far too prissy for any model. There went her reputation for being easy to work with. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding.”

Cassian took the phone off speaker to say a few farewell remarks and then hung up.

“This is a new side of you, El,” he said.

Elain flushed. “Sorry.”

“No, no, I like it.” Cassian swung open the door. “Besides, knowing your sisters I shouldn’t be shocked.”

They both took their seats. Mor didn’t miss a beat, shifting her attention back onto Cassian to ask about the logistics of planning a shoot like this.

“All good?” Lucien whispered as soon as Elain sat down.

Elain smiled weakly. “Peachy.”

“Okay,” Mor said, slamming her notebook shut. “That’s all I need for now.”

“Really?” Elain asked.

“No, but I have a dinner reservation with Cassian in twenty minutes,” she said with a wink. “And I have both your emails if you need anything else.”

“Plus you two also have a dinner to get to,” Cassian added.

“Do we?” Lucien asked slyly.

“A little treat from us,” Mor said. “For putting up with my questions. And yes, what you have on is fine.”

“Now go,” Cassian said, shooing them off. “Do something fun that’s not photographed.”

“Roger,” Lucien said, taking Elain’s hand and pulling her out of the room. Elain had a sneaking suspicion Lucien was in on it as he led her straight to the beachside restaurant in the resort and to a table overlooking the sea, candles already lit. The same one they’d sat at on the second night of their honeymoon.

“You know,” he said after they sat, “you’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Elain said, mortified.

Lucien shrugged. “You don’t need to spare me. I already knew they were thinking it.”

“They shouldn’t have been,” Elain muttered. “Assholes.”

“See,” Lucien leaned back in his chair. “Sexy.”

“And it’s not sparing you it’s—” Elain searched for the word.

“Sparing.”

Elain sighed. “Okay maybe a little.”

“You can tell me things,” Lucien said, eyes imploring.

Elain smiled at him weakly. “It’s just hard for me sometimes,” she admitted. “I don’t want to rock the boat.”

“Calm waters are boring. Speaking of which,” Lucien’s eyes gleamed, “how long after dinner will it take for Nesta to find Cassian alone somewhere.”

Elain choked. “Oh god, you don’t think—” Lucien raised an eyebrow. “An hour, max.”

He snorted. “Ten dollars says he leaves halfway through dinner.”

“Twenty says he tries and Mor makes him wait.”

Lucien held out his hand. “Deal.” They shook on it. Their hands hung suspended, neither willing to let go. Lucien’s thumb ran down Elain’s skin, causing her to shiver slightly. It felt like middle school all over again, with how agitated she was getting by mere contact with Lucien. My romantic life has reverted to hand holding. Perfect.

“Dinner menu?” asked the waiter, appearing with copies in arm.

Elain went to drop Lucien’s hand but he tightened his grip, resting their hands atop the table. Another stroke of his thumb.

“We’ll take whatever you recommend,” he said, not looking at the waiter. His gaze was focused entirely on Elain, with an intensity that made her feel like she was burning.

“Of course sir,” said the waiter before disappearing.

“Your stomach feel okay?” Lucien asked.

Elain nodded. “I’m starving honestly. I think I could eat anything you put in front of me.”

“Good,” Lucien admitted. “Because I have no clue what I just asked for.”

Elain feigned shock. “And I thought you were so smooth too.”

“I aim to impress.”

Thankfully, the waiter had an excellent pallet, and the evening passed quickly, the two of them talking so easily Elain could almost convince herself the last couple months weren’t real. That this was their relationship.

And on the way out of the restaurant Lucien slid an arm around Elain’s shoulders. She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. “You don’t have to set the pillow wall up tonight if you don’t want to.”

“Trust us to behave ourselves then?”

Elain hummed. “We’re both adults aren’t we.”

“I do want to do very adult things to you, yes,” Lucien said.

“That’s not what I meant,” Elain protested, smacking his chest.

Lucien pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know. But let me have my fun.”

Elain rolled her eyes, but didn’t pull away.

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