#specifically a Star Dragon World one

[shidoukanae]

Hello to the Buddyfight fandom it's been a hot minute but god do i miss this show and have been making fanart for it in the background so i thought i'd post to tumblr too ^^

I swear every year I end up coming back to this show and wishing that it kept going, that it got rebooted, that i could just erase my memories of this show and just watch it all over again from the beginning to enjoy everything once again from Tasuku's own sense of justice twisting against him to Gao's suffering of PTSD and how heartfelt it was handled.

There's something very special about this show that I haven't been able to find replicated elsewhere. It has the most perfect world to exist (so much so that i'd love to be isekai'd into it if i could!!!) and while i have my own gripes with it (hi S3+) i honestly sometimes wish i could go back to my high school years of watching this show just to relive it all again :'D

Anyways!!! I hope there's still people out there who enjoy this show even ten years later who'll like seeing new funny artwork for it!

I wanna add too that i'm hoping to create a rewrite of FCBF (ft. seasons 1-3 + Ace) or at least create more artwork for my interpretation of it and its world!

Because, sincerely, this show is one of the few that, for all its flaws, hasn't disappointed me in the years that've followed unlike many other things i've seen and i wanna try to keep the spirit of it alive while I can thanks to that. And if there are any fans still in existence who love it, i wanna provide some food while its once again in my orbit because damn do i adore this show <3 <3 <#

[aromanticasterisms]

"this event is cute but it has nothing to do with natlan" TO YOU. i understand the themes and messages

[solxamber]

One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader

You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;

1k masterlist ; Prologue

You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”

And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.

“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”

You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”

“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.

When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.

"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"

He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”

“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.

Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”

And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.

You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”

“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.

At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.

“C’mon, try it.”

He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”

“Exactly. Now open up.”

With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”

But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.

As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.

“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.

You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.

When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”

He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”

When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”

“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.

Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”

He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.

When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”

He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”

He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”

Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”

“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”

When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.

“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.

He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”

As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.

You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.

“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”

Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”

“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”

He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”

“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”

And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.

You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.

“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.

By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.

“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.

“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”

Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.

You blink. Then blink again.

It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.

“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”

He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”

“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”

“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.

You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”

“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”

You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”

Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”

Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”

He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”

And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.

The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.

“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”

Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.

“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”

Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.

Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”

Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.

Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.

“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”

Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”

“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”

Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.

By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.

It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.

“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”

“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”

“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.

The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.

“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.

Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”

Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.

When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.

“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.

Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.

“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”

You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”

“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”

But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”

You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”

Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”

“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”

Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.

You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.

So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.

"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.

“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”

"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"

Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.

The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”

You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.

You: Cornered. Help.

The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.

"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.

All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.

He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.

"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”

The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.

"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.

Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.

"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."

The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”

Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"

They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.

One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.

“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”

The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.

Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.

“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.

Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.

“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Like you’re impressed.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”

Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."

That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.

You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”

He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”

You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.

And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.

The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.

You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?

Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.

He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.

You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.

Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”

You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.

Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."

You blink as he pulls the paper closer.

"Leona, what are you—"

"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.

You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.

"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."

"Easy for you, maybe."

“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.

You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."

Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”

And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.

You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."

He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”

You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.

For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.

You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."

"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.

The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.

And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.

It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.

But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.

“Hey, Leona?”

He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.

You clear your throat. “What are we?”

Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”

You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”

He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”

Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.

“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.

You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”

He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”

“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”

Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”

Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.

Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.

“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”

You nod, holding your breath.

“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”

Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.

Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.

“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”

He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.

“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.

You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.

When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.

And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.

Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”

Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”

You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"

He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”

Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”

Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.

Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.

Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.

“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”

Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”

You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”

Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”

Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”

“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”

You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”

Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”

Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.

“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”

His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”

You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.

“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”

You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”

You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”

He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”

And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.

The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.

“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.

“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”

“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”

“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”

“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”

Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”

Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”

“You’re definitely telling him.”

“No, you tell him!”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”

Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”

Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”

“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”

“It was allergy season!”

“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”

Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”

“Gee, thanks, Grim.”

Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.

“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”

Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.

“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.

“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”

You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”

“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.

Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”

“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.

“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.

Because deep down, you know something they don’t.

Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.

You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.

Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.

1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist

i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here

[radiance1]

Inspired by @puppetmaster13u and various dragon aus they have.

BUT! This is also a bit of a fantasy/DnD au I guess...? IDK BUT HERE WE GO-

Okay now so, I'm imagining that that Danny, Tucker, and Sam create a pocket dimension for their game via the use of reality warping (via scepter) and something given to them by Pariah Dark before he went off on that whole honey moon thing with Clockwork.

For the record, Danny isn't the ghost king here, Pariah Dark is he's just the prince.

Sam created a garden from the barren earth, that eventually grew into a great forest and spread out to the rest of the world, which technically made her the creator of life but anyways. So, she's holed up in said garden turned forest.

Tucker bestowed upon his subjects (after they were made of course) knowledge and technology and is regarded as the greatest teacher in that world's history.

Danny? Oh yea he became that one that giant dragon that everyone knows is there, is afraid of, and just sleeps all day in this one specific place. You'd have to cut him some slack though, because no one told him creating a world and its laws would be so hard even with help.

That and him, as the one with basically the most knowledge and resident fanboy of space, created the stars surrounding the place as well!

Of course, they couldn't stay there all of the time. What with work (Tucker), high-society (Sam), and studying (Why the heck did Danny decide to go to collage again?). That entire place was just made to play around in before they had to go their separate ways and be, you know, actual adults, so it was easy enough to let go of it really.

Except for Danny. Not of any great reason, really, he just needed someplace where he could quietly study in peace, nap, think or just get away from the Ghost Zone before he had to go through all that princely nonsense again. Plus, none of their creations in that pocket dimension really wanted to mess with the giant fuck off dragon who was said to created the place anyways.

For the record, Danny is more of an eastern dragon in design with a long body rather than western. So that probably just added more into his intimidation with his sheer length.

So, you know, of course he would have been none too pleased when someone actually did disturb his solitude (as stated by the dimension's residents) as soon as the world was thrown off-balance by an outside force.

Meanwhile, Klarion the Witch boy is having the time of his life coming across a whole world that somehow hasn't been affected by Order or Chaos. So he's capitalizing on that.

Then he came across a place that was said to be sacred, not that he cared, and then came across a boy who didn't look a day over his teens (which frankly doesn't say much in regards to immortals) with a frankly long tail that looked longer than he was tall and very majestic looking horns.

Danny was annoyed yet curious, Klarion was surprised yet delighted.

[comicaurora]

hi red!! i'm doing an analysis of sun wukong's (and journey to the west in general's) impact on modern culture for my world mythology final, and for some reason i'm having a hard time finding sources. is there anything you can recommend?

The fact that Journey to the West has contributed an enormous number of tropes to modern media is very clear when the media in question is examined, but I don't know of a specific secondary source that's already done that analysis for you. However, this IS a very good excuse for you to plow through a metric buttload of shonen manga, since the lineage is basically Sun Wukong -> Son Goku -> like a solid third of all shonen action heroes written in the last forty years.

Dragon Ball kicks things off:

Started in 1984 and almost unquestionably the most influential manga ever made. Its first arc features the weird super-strong monkey-kid Son Goku - which is just the japanese pronunciation of the characters of Sun Wukong's name - meeting up with a wacky crew of thinly-veiled expys of the Journey to the West crew, with teen inventor Bulma filling the role of Tripitaka, Oolong the pig-man filling Zhu Bajie's role and Yamcha the desert-based bandit as Sha Wujing.

Hijinks ensue, and while the story drifts pretty far from Journey to the West's original plot, it actually stays pretty solidly referential in weirdly unexpected ways. Several the villains of the week are JttW references, and even the later appearance of three more Saiyans lines up with the surprise reveal of three more Wukong-like mystical apes in the original story.

The connection between Dragon Ball and JttW is very unsubtle and a frequent reference in the chapter covers and supplemental art.

Not every subsequent JttW reference is the result of Dragon Ball popularizing it or anything, since it was already enormously popular, but I think it's pretty hard to extricate Dragon Ball's influence on anime and manga from the original influence of Journey to the West itself.

One way that a distinction can be drawn is in the differences in characterization between Goku and Sun Wukong himself. A lot of the next generation of shonen protagonists were kind of Goku-alikes - pure-hearted dumbasses who only care for the three Fs: Food, Fighting and Friendship.

But the original characterization of Sun Wukong is not really all that similar. He's a trickster, sure, but he's far from a young, friendship-motivated goober. He's profoundly intelligent, pretty much the most well-educated entity on the planet, and routinely brings up that he's centuries older than most of his peers. The Goku-alikes from the later decades of shonen anime are tellingly far-removed from that original characterization. So you get characters based on Goku's cheerful idiocy, but it's just a small subset of the broader influence of Journey to the West on the space of literature.

In general, Journey to the West frequently shows up in very small, bite-sized tropes in other stories. It's less "this is wholly based on Journey to the West" and more "oh, I know where they maybe got this idea/aesthetic/power/weapon/villain of the week from." There are way too many to list, but some of the ones that tend to jump out at me are-

Sneaky characters with monkey motifs:

Tricksy, highly mobile characters who fight with a staff:

Characters afflicted with a magical restraint artifact that allows a much weaker character to stop them from misbehaving:

Specific esoteric weapons, eg. magical fans, rakes, gourds, namedropping The Sword of Seven Stars, etc.

Villains with prominent ox or pig design motifs:

Characters whose primary combat strat is just making Shitloads Of Disposable Copies Of Themselves:

Honestly it just keeps going like this. It's kinda everywhere. Finding the JttW in things is my favorite conspiracy theory rabbit hole because it's 100% harmless and more often than not completely correct.

[purplealmonds]

My Mononoke and Sky: CoTL fandom wires getting crossed because I just got back from a Sky art exhibit/panel and the newly revealed Mononoke's worldbuilding lore confirms the existence of multiple medicine sellers.

So I made some Mononoke-inspired Sky kids to get it out of my system. Or would it be considered a Sky-inspired Medicine Seller? 🤔

Some design insights and lore below the cut!

Sky-Kusu's haircut and tunic are modeled after a moth's. For the uninitiated, in Sky we call new players "moths" because they fly awkwardly and are attracted to bright lights.

The gold necklace around Sky-Kusu's neck resembles both anime-Kusu's necklace and Sky's Season of Revival pendant. He probably arrived in this realm while that season was running.

Sky-Kusu's cape is shaped like a butterfly (which he has an affinity for) and emblazoned with Sky mural patterns. I made it blue as a nod to anime-Kusu's kimono and the Beta Cape, a cosmetic gifted to playtesters. Sky-Kusu's existence predates that of Sky so that's thematically appropriate.

Instead of carrying a medicine box, Sky-Kusu has a large butterfly pot. These butterflies are a silvery blue as a nod to kitsunebi- foxfire- which is said to contain the life force of a kitsune which Kusu is often associated with. Butterflies in Sky help rekindle light, which is especially crucial for Sky-Kusu because...

Sky-Kusu only has one "Winged Light" - his "Hyper" form- hence the sun dog halo around Sky-Hyper's head.

Sky-Hyper's haircut is honestly just an aesthetic choice. It's one of my favorite hairstyles in Sky, and allows for some fun patterning in the buzzcut area.

Sky-Hyper's costume design is heavily inspired by his movie counterpart's. However, because Sky doesn't allow cosmetics that reveal too much of the skin, he's also wearing what's essentially a modesty tube top and leggings lol. It has the unintended side effect of making him appear more feminine-presenting, which I'm not entirely bothered about.

The markings on Sky-Hyper's skin are inspired by his original markings and star constellations. They're colored silvery blue for kitsunebi. Coincidentally, a lot of spirits in sky are also tinted blue. Hmmm...

The Winged Light scattered throughout the Sky realms deeply unsettle Hyper. They are so much like him, yet have no personality or minds to speak of. Soulless batteries. Although it is to their detriment, their shared body subconsciously rejects these Winged Lights.

This leaves them quite vulnerable to dark creatures in the more dangerous realms. A solid blow from a dark dragon knocks 5-7 Winged Lights out of an unfortunate sky kid. If Sky-Kusu gets hit with his single winged light...

Because weapons are forbidden in Sky, I swapped Sky-Kusu's exorcism sword out with an exorcism...lantern-on-a-stick? It has a little bell and tassel attached to it too!

Since the exorcism sword is traditionally modeled after a fearsome creature, I made the lantern's color palette match that of a dark dragon. At its full power, it can "exorcise" an entire shard eruption in a single blow.

Normally, the exorcism lantern's light isn't "unleashed" unless specific conditions are met to exorcise entity. However, in the Sky realms where light is freely given and shared, the lantern can be lit by other sky kids but burns a weaker flame akin to a sky kid's candle.

Because of this perpetual fire, Hyper cannot fully fall into dormancy. This is fine. He keeps Sky-Kusu company in this strange new world.

[yuri-is-online]

Do you think the twst universe has had a moon landing? If I tell idia or ace and duece or azul that we put a bunch of shit into space and then some people on the moon in the 60s, and that they're planning on establishing a base on the moon by 2026, do you think they'll freak out?

"Damn that moon looks lit asf"

"Yeah...oh yeah I've been meaning to ask, did yall have a moon landing?"

"....a what?"

"A moon landing. You know, like some country or something put people on the moon and then brought them back home?"

"...The moon."

"Yeah-"

"The freaking moon in the sky"

I am so glad you asked this because I have unironically been thinking about this for a while now, we must be buying our brain cells from the same store.

So. Gather around kids because no. Yuri, theorist of some sort that she is, does not believe Twisted Wonderland has had a moon landing and allow me to explain why:

It would be really funny. But I guess if you want actual evidence I have that too.

In Book 6-76 we see Idia's flashback where he recreates Ortho and he mentions that one day "he'll be able to go into space unassisted. He treats this as a big deal and it is also treated as a big deal when Ortho manages to do just that in the Wish Upon a Stars event.

This might be a bit dumb but space exploration, rocket science, and astronautics aren't listed as internship possibilities by Cater when he's naming things in Book 7-4. Granted he does list IT which could maybe fall into those categories but he also specifically mentions ocean surveying, which is hyper specific and could have been replaced with astronautics.

Realistically speaking, what reason do the people of Twisted Wonderland have to go to the moon? I feel like if magic is real, as are mermaids, dragons, beastfolk, and ruins that potentially contain magical artifacts and curses... your government probably has other things they want to spend their money on, and it's not going to the moon.

As a side note I remember once reading a fantasy book about a Griffin? Whose goal was to visit the moon in a magic bubble or something but I don't remember much more about it other than that. Space travel isn't something most fantasy settings do.

I think if you told Idia that was possible he might get it into his head that he wants to be the one who puts someone on the moon, he already wanted to send Ortho to space so hey why not? Ace is actually really practical sometimes so I imagine he'd point out the bit about how Yuu's world is able to focus on things like that because they don't have magical issues to worry about while Deuce would just be impressed and as for Azul-

think he's got a new fear unlocked. The moon in the fucking sky WHY DO HUMANS INSIST ON FLYING PLACES ALL THE DAMN TIME????

[sylibane]

Pop Culture and Fandom-Themed OC Questions

I came up with some pop culture-y OC questions because I like silly OC games. Some of these are more general, while others are for a specific genre or piece of media. Go ahead and reblog to use for your own OCs!

Was your OC influenced or inspired by any particular fictional character(s) when you made them?

What genre (not counting the one they’re in) would your OC thrive in?

What genre would your OC do badly in but it would be hilarious or interesting to watch?

What media does your character enjoy? (For characters in settings that aren’t modern Earth, could be media from their home setting or what they’d like in a modern Earth AU)

What song(s) do you associate with your OC?

Alternatively, do you have any OCs you associate with the song(s) I just sent you?

If your OC had to cosplay as a fictional character, who would they choose?

Has your OC ever had a crush on a fictional (to them) character?

If your OC wrote fanfiction (or if they already do), what type? (fix fic, ship, crossovers, AUs, smut, etc.)

How would your OC do in the last book/movie/tv show/game/etc. you read/watched/played?

If your OC was a superhero, what would they be like? (powers, title, general vibe, etc.)

What animal would your OC have as their His Dark Materials daemon?

What Pokémon would be on your OC’s team and/or what would be their preferred type?

If your OC was a Dungeons and Dragons character, what would their class be? And/or: If they were playing D&D, what kind of character might they play? (these aren’t necessarily the same thing)

How well would your OC do in a standard slasher movie?

What stock character would your OC be stuck as in a sitcom?

Who would your OC main in Super Smash Bros?

Who would your OC play in Mario Kart?

If your OC was in Star Trek’s Starfleet, what would be their role/position? Or, if that doesn’t really fit your OC: why would they get kicked out of Starfleet?

What role would your OC play in a heist story?

What kind of classic horror monster (vampire, werewolf, alien, etc.) would your OC be?

What type of Avatar The Last Airbender-type bender (or non-bender) would your OC be? Any bending specialties?

Your OC gets isekai’d to a bog-standard fantasy world. What does your OC do and how badly does it go for that world?

In the Muppet version of your story, is this particular OC a Muppet or the one human?

What would be your OC’s My Little Pony cutie mark?

Your OC is stuck in a musical episode. What song(s) do they sing? (And how thrilled or annoyed are they about being stuck in a musical?)

In a murder mystery, what role would your OC play? (e.g. detective, sidekick, wacky suspect, rival investigator who gets in thew way, red herring, true culprit)

What is your OC’s Warrior Cats name?

Gun to their head, what is your OC’s fursona?

[redgoldsparks]

Hi, I just read your book gender queer and wanted to tell you that i have never felt more seen by a book in my life (or any media for that matter). Im also genderqueer and somewhere on the aro/ace spectrum and your book put into words alot of things I’ve never known how to express. Thank you for putting yourself out there!

(also do you have any other comic book recommendations?)

Hello anon! Thank you for this kind message! I very much do have comic book recs. In no particular order, here are some favorites. Not all of these are books are queer, but many are. If you want queer specific recs, here are some other asks I've previously answered- books about nonbinary identities, nonbinary mostly fiction

Memoir/Nonfiction 

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel

Relish: My Life in the Kitchen by Lucy Knisley 

March Trilogy by Senator John Lewis, Nate Powell and Andrew Aydin

The Best We Could Do by Thi Bui

Fetch: How a Bad Dog Brought Me Home by Nicole Georges 

You & a Bike & a Road by Eleanor Davis 

Tetris: The Games People Play by Box Brown

The Called Us Enemy by George Takei, Justin Eisinger, Steven Scott and Harmony Becker

Feeding Ghosts by Tessa Hulls 

Hey Kiddo by Jarrett Krosoczka 

Almost American Girl by Robin Ha 

Dragon Hoops by Gene Luen Yang 

Dancing at the Pity Party: A Dead Mom Graphic Memoir by Tyler Feder 

Banned Book Club by Kim Hyun Sook, Ryan Estrada and Ko Hyung-Ju 

Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands by Kate Beaton 

Homebody by Theo Parrish 

The High Desert by James Spooner 

Fiction

Prince of Cats by Ronald Wimberly 

This One Summer by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki

Skim by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki

Seconds by Bryan Lee O’Malley 

Nimona by ND Stevenson 

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang 

The Hard Tomorrow by Eleanor Davis

On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden

This Was Our Pact by Ryan Andrews

Grease Bats by Archie Bongiovanni

The Chromatic Fantasy by H.A. 

Salt Magic by Hope Larson and Rebecca Mock

Beetle and the Hollowbones by Aliza Layne

Kiss Number 8 by Colleen F Venable and Ellen Crenshaw 

Finder Library Vols 1 & 2 by Carla Speed McNeil

Castle Waiting: The Lucky Road by Linda Medley

The Deep and Dark Blue by Niki Smith

Across a Field of Starlight by Blue Delliquanti 

O Human Star by Blue Delliquanti 

Snapdragon by Kay Leyh

Cyclopedia Exotica by Aminder Dhaliwal 

Woman World by Aminder Dhaliwal

The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen 

A Frog in Fall by Lisa Sterte 

Thieves by Lucie Bryon 

The Great Beyond by Lea Murawiec

Short Stories

The Amazing Screw-On Head and Other Curious Objects by Mike Mignola 

Other Ever Afters: New Queer Fairy Tales by Melanie Gillman

[howtofightwrite]

I've got a world-building/combat question. I have these two warring nations in my setting, both medieval-ish tech levels. One of them figures out how to make magical flying craft that are basically WWI airplanes. The other country invents dragon riders in response. Since then, they've been at war for ~60 years. I'm trying to figure out how the heck an air force would alter medieval combat strategies. If you've any suggestions, I'd appreciate it

The first, and biggest world building problem is that magic is part of your overall tech level. Ironically, Diskworld is an excellent example of how magical technology can basically function as an alternate path for social and technical development, though, honestly, a lot of high-magic settings tend to have tech leakage from magic.

One of the more common examples that comes to mind are “magical radios.” Either it's an enchanted device that allows person to person communication, or it's direct telepathic communication, but whatever it is, it serves a fundamentally similar role to a handheld radio, or (depending on how it works) a phone. The thing is, it's functionally a magical replacement, and it would affect society in much the same way those technologies have.

This is a long way to say, if your magical combat technology has WWI-grade planes, there is a very real possibility that a lot of your warfare is also going to be at a similar magi-tech level, if not more advanced. Having written that, I'm reminded of The Red Star comic series; though, that has a heavy Soviet aesthetic, and is not-at-all medieval.

Again, it doesn't really matter if you have fully-automatic firearms, or if you have a bolt thrower that conjures and propels crystals at hyper-sonic speeds into your foes. If they have a similar rate of fire, and similar accuracy, the meaningful change is texture. Your characters might see tiny crystal fragments shattered on the floor, or embedded into walls, instead of bullet holes. There may be no smell, or conjuring the crystals might leave a different odor. A handheld lightning projector might leave scorch marks, and a scent of ozone, for instance.

Magic might also factor into armor and defenses. If you can use a magical ward to dispel conjured objects, that might be extremely useful for fortifying specific targets against incoming conjured attacks, but it would likely be wholly ineffective against the lightning projector, or some other kind of directed energy beam weapon.

“Inventing,” dragon riding as a response to someone else making a magical airship, does strike me as an odd cause-and-effect. If dragon riding was that easy, it would seem likely that someone would have militarized them long before that point. Inventing flying objects that could function as a hard counter to dragons feels a little more natural. Or, magical, AA installations. Though, this is something that could probably be finessed, if you're really committed to the setup. It's also worth remembering that air superiority is an extremely potent advantage, even if you're not sure what to do with it, meaning that if one side suddenly had fliers, and the other side couldn't come up with a counter in short order, they'd be picked apart, and the war wouldn't have this 60 year timescale.

If it seems like I went to ranged weapons very quickly, there's a simple reason. You can't joust from a plane. Your options are to either propel objects at people, or drop things on them from above. Dragons also (usually) have the option to breathe fire on them. Now, firearms did exist in the late medieval era. So, that's not that far out of range. I'm less sure of the invention of bombs. At least, of the variety you could deliver to your enemy on the battlefield. Though, it occurs to me, you could probably use a catapult or trebuchet to deliver an explosive payload, if the explosives were stable enough to survive launch, but sensitive enough to detonate on impact. (Of course, if you have some kind of magically primed explosive, that stays stable until it is ejected from the catapult, and then explodes on impact, that would work.)

Looping back to the timescale again, this would require some pretty potent defensive capabilities. A dragon, with the ability to breathe fire, and the capacity for strategic thinking, could easily starve out an entire kingdom, simply by making a habit of torching all the cropland it could find. It doesn't, particularly matter if it gets all the food, so long as it torches a meaningful percentage of the available crops. When you have farmers going hungry, you're going to see food production dipping, exacerbating the problem. When you have soldiers going hungry, they're not going to be able to fight as effectively. When you have the peasantry going hungry, you're going to see civil unrest, and probably rebellions coming for their lord's head. You can't wage a war against a hostile nation under those circumstances. (In fact, there were multiple peasant revolts during the Hundred Years War, which basically stalled out France's ability to fight. England also suffered multiple peasant uprisings at roughly the same time. Though, those were motivated by taxation, which ends in a similar place.)

A related concept that's somewhat hinted above, is that wars are expensive, and both France and England found themselves facing uprisings because of taxation needed to support the ongoing war. (The irony being that both nations encountered this at roughly the same point in history. Roughly 40 years into the war.) A war that's been going for 60 years will likely have ravaged the economies of the involved nations. This isn't necessarily something that your characters would be aware of, unless you expand the context to show non-wartime economies.

The simplest explanation for why this happens is that any money you spend prosecuting the war are products that you never see returning value from. The money itself doesn't leave the economy, but the natural resources, and labor required, are expended non-productively (from the perspective of economic growth.) So, if you have a peacetime merchant, they're moving money around, but they're paying for their goods, and then those goods are going to consumers, who may also be contributing to economic activity with those goods (this even applies for food, you can think of that as a necessary component to any productive activity.) If you're a wartime merchant, selling weapons to the military, you are contributing to economic activity when you buy the weapons, but when they're sold to the crown, that's no longer productive. Those weapons leave the economy and never return. Worse, any soldiers who are permanently wounded, or killed, are also removed from the economy. Over time, this can destroy the most prosperous of nations. (To be clear, this is more advanced economic analysis than anyone in the middle ages would have had. So, the idea that wars are expensive was understood, but the exact reasons it slowed the economy were not.) And, this kind of thinking is another form of technological advancement. Ideas for understanding complex systems have become more intricate and detailed over time. While it's not the concept of, “invention,” that you might be used to, it is a similar form of progress.

So, how would this look in your world? There's a lot of potential consequences, most of which are not contradictory.

An impoverished lower-class is very likely. Whether that includes wounded veterans or not is a little more up in the air, though after 60 years, military pensioners, and those who suffered life-altering injuries on the battlefield are likely to be a common sight, either on the street or in the poverty line. (Especially if the crown is willing to enforce drafts and conscription.) At this point, that might be a very real possibility.

A struggling aristocracy is also likely, with former major power players who've declined into poverty. This might take the form of borderline abandoned estates that have been taken over by the crown or squatters. (Probably not both at the same time.)

Serious inflation is likely (and could be why formerly stable guild members, merchants, and even some of the aristocracy might now find themselves struggling.) I realize this point isn't something most really think of when you're trying to write a fantasy world, but it's worth considering. More likely this will be seen in food prices having increased over time. So the major symptoms you'd likely see would be decaying structures that no one has the resources to maintain, rising food prices, and generalized poverty. Even in a fairly magically advanced setting, a lot of these things would, likely, still happen. Of course, if the dragons have been used to destroy the agricultural base, things would be even worse in that nation. To be clear, food and taxation riots are not off the table there.

This is sort of a non-sequitur, but if you have a setting with classic transmutation (lead, or other base metals, into gold), you would actually see inflation with every batch of transmuted gold hitting the market. It's sort of an amusing note on the fantasy of being able to produce as much money as you want, but ultimately, it's actually harmful from a macroeconomic perspective. (Basically, the same reason counterfeiting is a problem.) Though, it is a possible hook for criminal groups in one of those nations, producing counterfeit gold via transmutation.

There's also a real world example from 2020, where a jewelry company had fabricated “fake,” gold bars as collateral to secure loans. In total, they claimed to have 83 tons of gold used to obtain loans worth over 2.8 billion dollars, from 14 different creditors. Except, when they defaulted on those loans, and were forced to hand over the gold, it was discovered that these were in fact gold plated copper bars.

I realize the question was about the flying forces specifically, but so long as that advantage is dealt with quickly, and neither side is able to monopolize air superiority, that's not going to change nearly as much as having that level of magical advancement would on its own, and of course, the general consequences of having a war that's been going on for long enough that multiple generations have died on the battlefield. That's going to a bigger effect on your world as a whole.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[seongwars]

away with the wind | xiii

Pairing: dragonrider!Seonghwa x ex-dragonrider!Reader AU: dragon rider au | strangers -> lovers Summary: A spinal injury forces you to retire from dragon racing, and with it, the end of your engagement to Song Mingi. Park Seonghwa, a rising star in the world of dragon racing and heir to the prestigious House Park, seeks a new dragon after an unfortunate accident on the skyway. As the saying goes, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Word Count: 7K Warnings: violence, kidnapping, swearing, mentions of child kidnapping, descriptions of dragon body parts and anatomy

Fic Masterlist

a/n: it's back baybeeee! blame my other wips and forget me not

Kang Yeosang was born as the illegitimate son of Lord Jung Dae Han, a secret hidden beneath the grandeur of the Jung estate. From the day of his birth, Yeosang’s existence was a stain on Lord Jung's otherwise pristine reputation, a reminder of a moment of weakness. He was never publicly acknowledged, but his presence couldn’t be entirely erased either. Instead, he was raised in the shadows of the estate, caught between two worlds—neither fully accepted as a highborn, nor allowed to escape the clutches of his father's influence.

From a young age, Yeosang lived in the shadow of his half-brother, a legitimate son born from Lord Jung’s marriage to Lady Eunji. His half-brother thrived under the family’s spotlight, basking in the praise and admiration that came with his status. 

Yeosang spent most of his days confined to his small, drafty quarters in the servant’s wing of the estate, the only window to the outside world being the one overlooking the grand training grounds. He would often press his forehead against the cold glass, staring longingly at the sight of his half-brother, Wooyoung, and his dragon. 

To Yeosang, they represented everything he could never have: freedom, power, and control. But despite these differences, Wooyoung saw Yeosang as his brother, regardless of the circumstances of his birth. 

He had always had a love for dragons–the beasts were integral to Auroran culture and everyday life. Yet he was never allowed one of his own as Lord Jung’s bastard son. It wasn’t until he was out exploring the woods that he stumbled upon a wounded fledgling. The sight of the small, vulnerable creature awakened something within him—a deep instinct to help, to heal. 

Over the following weeks, he nursed it back to health, using whatever resources he could gather. With no formal training, Yeosang relied on his curiosity and keen observation, learning about the dragon’s biology and how it responded to different herbs and remedies.

He spent countless hours watching over the dragon, his mind racing with questions that no one around him could answer. Why did certain wounds heal faster with specific treatments? How did the dragon's body recover so quickly compared to other creatures? It was as if its very biology defied the natural order, and the more Yeosang observed, the more obsessed he became.

He became relentless, studying deep into the night, sketching diagrams of the dragon’s structure, its wings, the intricate patterns of its scales. He recorded every healing factor, every reaction to different stimuli. His experiments became more ambitious, as he searched for any way to unlock the secrets of the creature's rapid regeneration.

But his secret couldn’t last forever.

One evening, while he was tending to the creature in the hidden alcove where he had kept it safe, disaster struck. One of Lady Eunji’s maids stumbled upon the dragon, her scream echoing through the hallways as she fled to alert her mistress. Yeosang’s heart sank when he heard the commotion. By the time he reached the creature again, it was too late.

Lady Eunji, in her cold, calculating manner, ordered the dragon’s immediate disposal. She considered it a threat—dangerous, uncontrollable, and far too valuable to leave in the hands of someone as inexperienced as Yeosang. Her maids and guards moved quickly, hauling the weakened creature from its hiding place. Yeosang’s protests were drowned out by the commands of the estate, his words falling on deaf ears as they dragged the dragon away.

Desperate and grief-stricken, Yeosang chased after them, pleading, but Lady Eunji’s decision was final. In a last-ditch effort, he gathered what he could of the dying creature, using everything he had learned to try and resuscitate it.

But his attempts were futile.

The dragon’s breaths grew shallower, the light in its eyes fading. Yeosang could feel its life slipping away with every agonizing second. His heart broke as he knelt beside it, tears streaming down his face as he realized he was losing it. Despite all his knowledge, all his efforts, he was powerless to save the creature that had been his world for such a short period of time.

When the dragon finally stilled beneath his hands, Yeosang was left with an unbearable silence. He had failed. The weight of that failure crushed him, and something in him shifted. No longer was it mere fascination driving him—it was an insatiable hunger for control, for the kind of power that could defy death itself. In that moment of grief, Yeosang made a vow. He would never let this happen again.

And if that meant crossing boundaries others feared to cross—if that meant venturing into dark, so be it.

˖

Your limbs felt impossibly heavy, like they were shackled by invisible chains, and your vision wavered, fading in and out of focus. The sharp sting at the base of your neck pulsed in rhythm with the buzzing implant, all thanks to Yeosang’s doing. It hummed beneath your skin, sending erratic shocks through your nervous system, muddling your thoughts and sapping your strength.

A shadow moved over you, and before you could react, a strong arm slid around your waist, hoisting you up. Instinctively, you attempted to fight back, but your movements were slow, sluggish, as if your body was no longer your own. Forcing yourself to focus, you recognized the face in your haze—Mingi. 

“Stop resisting,” Mingi hissed, his grip tightening as you struggled against him. 

“Put me down, you motherfucker,” you slurred, the words barely coherent as you tried to wriggle free, your body useless and uncooperative. Every movement felt like it was happening in slow motion, your muscles heavy with the weight of the sedative still pumping through your veins.

Before you could get another word out, Mingi made a sharp turn, yanking you both into the shadows of a narrow side hallway. His hand clamped over your mouth as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. Cromer’s guards rushed past, their boots a steady thud that reverberated in your ears.

“We need to get you out of here,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, like he was trying to comfort you. All you could manage was a faint, frustrated sigh as you sagged in his arms, no longer able to fight him. 

Another set of footsteps echoed from around the corner, breaking through the fog in your mind. Mingi stiffened, then ducked into a nearby room, quickly closing the door behind you both. 

"Why are you helping me?" you whispered, pulling yourself away from Mingi. Your voice trembled, exhaustion weighing you down, but you still managed to create some distance between you. Suspicion clawed at your mind. Why him? Why now?

You watched his lips part, the hesitation so thick you could feel it, as if he were weighing every word before it left his mouth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and strained, like each word pained him to admit.

"Because Yeosang is going to blow this place up."

The revelation hit you, leaving you momentarily breathless. "Blow this place up?" you repeated, your disbelief breaking through your exhaustion. "With that thing he created?"

“He didn’t create that thing from nothing.” He paused, his gaze hardening as memories you couldn't see flitted across his face.

“He harvested it—piece by piece.”

A dragon, pieced together like a grotesque puzzle, created for destruction. Every part of it, from the scales to the bones, had once belonged to a living, breathing creature. Now, those pieces had been fused together into something far more terrifying, twisted into Yeosang’s vision of power.

“How…why would he do that?” you whispered, a sickening feeling rising in your chest. 

Mingi sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Everything he’s done—the experiments, trafficking, using a lab as a front for recruiting riders—it’s all tied to his twisted vision. And now, with the military closing in, he’s wiping everything clean.”

The breath left your lungs in a sharp gasp. "So, then what makes me any different from the kids?" The thought sent a wave of revulsion through you. "Why me? What does he need me for?"

Mingi’s expression darkened, his tone heavy with regret. He hesitated, as if the words physically pained him. 

“He needed someone who was grounded, someone who couldn’t fly anymore.”

Your chest tightened as the implications sank in. “Because of my accident,” you whispered, bile rising in your throat.

“He believes that if he can show anyone—regardless of background or limitations—can control dragons, it’ll spark a war for control over dragonkind.”

“That’s what the neural link system is for,” he continued. “It allows pilots to communicate directly with dragons without needing to mount them. Yeosang’s figured out how to create a direct connection between two entirely different nervous systems.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you processed his words. The idea that you had been that close to losing control, that close to becoming one of Yeosang’s puppets, sent a wave of nausea rolling through you. Your hand trembled as you touched the back of your neck again, fingers brushing over the skin where the implant lay beneath.

“If you knew about this, why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice rose, trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. 

Mingi’s face twisted with frustration, his voice rising defensively. “Do you think I wanted any of this to happen? I was scared, okay? Of what Yeosang could do to everyone! He’s not just one man—he’s a system. I didn’t know how to fight that!”

“Don’t you dare,” you shot back, venomously. “You weren’t scared. You could have stopped this. You could have warned everyone. But instead, you sat there and reaped the benefits while Yeosang pulled the strings. You’re not just complicit—you’re part of the problem.”

“Y/N—”

“Save it,” you spat, cutting him off. “You’re no better than he is. You let people suffer because you could care less about anyone other than yourself.”

Mingi’s face paled, his eyes wide with guilt as the weight of your words crashed over him. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his lips. He knew you were right—there was no defense, no justification for the choices he had made. 

But then, after a long, painful silence, Mingi’s voice broke through, quieter than before.

“You’re right.” His head hung low, the fight gone from him. 

“I wanted so badly to be at the top, to be someone—someone important—that I didn’t see how far I’d fallen. I know I can’t undo what’s been done, but I can try to make it right. Please, let me help now, let me get you out. I’m not asking for forgiveness—I know I don’t deserve that. But we can stop him and put an end to this.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of his admission. He was a man who had failed, who had let his own selfish ambitions cloud his judgment. But now, he was standing before you, stripped of his pride, begging for a chance to make amends.

Whether or not you could trust him again, you weren’t sure. But the thought of taking down Yeosang without Mingi’s knowledge and help seemed impossible.

“How did you find me?” you finally asked. 

Mingi paused for a moment, his expression softening as if he knew how fragile you felt. “Cirrus was all over the news,” he explained, his hands going up in a slight defensive gesture, as if to calm any panic you might feel from the mention of the dragon’s name. 

“She was out of control. I’ve never seen her like that before. That’s when I knew…something had to have happened to you. I knew I had to hurry, so I got here as fast as I could.” 

“Hey, bastard,” Mingi growled from the shadows, his voice low and dangerous.

“You better get out before the authorities shut down your little operation. Her dragon’s about to bring the whole place down.”

Yeosang froze mid-motion, irritation flickering across his face as he turned toward the voice. He wasn’t easily rattled, though. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms with deliberate calm. 

“Come to play the hero?” he sneered, mocking disdain dripping from every word. 

Mingi stepped forward, unbothered by the taunt, his voice cold and steady. “No. But I’ll need a dragon after this suspension, and you can’t afford to lose everything you’ve worked for.”

The room seemed to close in around them, tension thickening in the air. Yeosang’s sharp gaze calculated every angle, aware of how precarious his position was. Outside, the walls trembled under the pressure of Cirrus’ fury, the dragon’s roars reverberating through the lab. Time was running out.

“Where’s Wooyoung?” Yeosang asked, his voice sharp, as if he could regain control by asking the right question.

“Up top, containing the chaos,” Mingi replied with a lazy yawn, feigning disinterest.

“Look, since I’m already here, I’ll move her to where the kids are,” he offered casually, though his tone was measured and deliberate. 

“You get your dragon out. It’s a win for you.”

“I'm not negotiating with you,” Yeosang snapped, but there was a faint tremor in his voice—a hint of uncertainty that hadn’t been there before.

Mingi’s calm demeanor disappeared in an instant, replaced by a menacing intensity. He stepped closer, towering over the doctor, his eyes cold as steel. 

“I put my neck on the line by piloting one of your experiments, testifying before the Council, and even sold a dream to those kids you wanted to recruit,” he growled, each word laced with barely restrained anger.

“It cost me everything. So either you let me get her out of here, or you lose everything.”

Yeosang’s composure cracked, hesitation flashing across his features as he glanced around the lab. The walls continued to shake, cracks forming in the concrete as Cirrus grew more intense by the second. He could feel the weight of Mingi’s words, the truth that he had no time, no room for error.

Finally, with a reluctant nod, Yeosang backed down, knowing there was no other choice. “I’ll send you the coordinates,” he muttered, his voice stripped of its earlier defiance.

Mingi gave a curt nod, his victory sealed, but there was no satisfaction in it—just the bitter truth that they were both in too deep.

“Yeosang cares about that dragon more than anything,” Mingi muttered, his jaw clenched. “The other hybrid dragons, the kids—they're just a means to an end.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut. The children weren’t just pawns in Yeosang’s sick experiment—they were victims. And now, you knew, you were meant to be next. The neural dock you’d been strapped into wasn’t just some twisted trap—it was a gateway into the experiment’s mind, a bridge Yeosang intended for you to cross, whether you survived or not.

“We have to find them.”

“We will,” Mingi replied, his voice firm. “But first, we need to get you out of here.”

Without wasting another moment, you and Mingi bolted down the narrow, dimly lit corridors of the lab. Your footsteps echoed through the metallic halls, the blare of alarms and flashing emergency lights heightening the sense of danger. Every second felt like it was borrowed, the urgency of escape hanging over you both like a noose tightening with each step.

Mingi was in front, his broad frame cutting through the smoke and chaos, but suddenly he skidded to a halt, throwing his arm out to shield you. You stumbled, barely catching yourself as the corridor plunged into a chilling silence. Your heart pounded in your ears as you followed his gaze, your pulse spiking when you saw what had stopped him.

Wooyoung. 

The night thrummed with tension as the rhythmic beat of dragon wings cut through the cool air. A low rumble from the soldiers’ dragons reverberated through the ground, matching the palpable anticipation. The military had sealed off the lab, blocking every known exit, but it wasn’t enough—not for Seonghwa. His chest tightened with each passing second, knowing you were still trapped inside. Time was slipping away, and every second that passed felt like an eternity.

Behind San, his dragon Stelle let out a deep, guttural growl, the sound vibrating through the tense atmosphere like a warning. Her massive wings flexed and her glowing eyes were fixed on the steel fortress ahead. Around them, other dragons shifted, their muscles tense, nostrils flaring as they sensed the looming danger just as keenly as their riders.

Seonghwa’s fingers twitched with impatience, his eyes darting between the hologram and the lab’s doors. He wanted to move, to charge in and tear the place apart if it meant finding you. But San, experienced and methodical, stood firm. Rushing in blind would only spell disaster. Seonghwa forced himself to stay still as San explained the plan.

He stood in front of the holographic display, eyes sharp with focus as he traced the layout of the lab. “The main entrance is a trap,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. 

“It’s heavily fortified, packed with security bots and sensors. If we go in that way, we’ll be flagged immediately.”

Before anyone could respond, Yunho jogged up, phone in hand. “This might help,” he called, catching their attention. He synced his phone to the hologram, and the lab’s structure shifted, expanding as new data merged with the layout.

"Here," Yunho began, gesturing to the updated hologram. “It’s not perfect, but this gives us a clearer idea of the structure from when I was inside during the tour.”

“I don’t know how deep the lab runs underground,” he continued, his voice tense with focus, “but I know they’ve been using this loading dock.” He pointed to a spot on the hologram where large transport crates were stacked. 

“They’ve been loading and unloading juvenile dragons through here.”

San studied the hologram closely, brow furrowed in concentration. “And you’re sure this dock is still operational? Any recent activity?”

Yunho’s gaze didn’t waver from the projection, memories of his recent investigation flashing in his mind. “Possibly,” he replied, calm but urgent. 

“When Y/N and I checked the site, there were clear signs. The cargo crates were still warm from dragon fire, and the claw marks on the containers were fresh. It’s the only active entry point we know for sure.”

San nodded, his mind quickly piecing together the next steps. “We’ll send the tactical team through the dock. They’ll neutralize any immediate threats, and once we get the all-clear, the rest of us move in.”

Around them, snipers took their positions on the rooftops, while soldiers fanned out, covering every angle of the perimeter.

“We need to be smart. Medical team, be on standby,” San added, shooting a glance toward the medics stationed near the dragons. The unspoken urgency lingered in the air as he turned back to the team. 

“Prepare for breach.”

˖

"Yeosang?" Wooyoung whispered harshly as he stepped closer to where his brother sat, eyes cast downward. He could see the faint bruises along Yeosang’s arms, subtle reminders of Eunji's cruelty. A surge of anger rose in his chest, his fists clenching involuntarily. It wasn’t fair.

Yeosang shifted slightly, his voice quiet, almost broken. “Nothing.”

That was always his answer. Nothing. As if the marks on his skin weren’t evidence enough. As if Wooyoung’s mother’s cutting words didn’t wound him just as deeply.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I know what mother said.”

Yeosang’s gaze finally lifted, meeting his brother’s. His eyes were dark, swirling with emotions Wooyoung couldn’t fully grasp—anger, hurt, and something else. Resignation, maybe.

“It doesn’t matter. No one’s ever going to see me like they see you.”

"That’s not true," Wooyoung snapped, frustration sharpening his tone. "You’re amazing at science! Smarter than me, even."

A bitter laugh escaped Yeosang as he shook his head. “No, I’m not. You know it. They know it. That’s why they took Hope away.”

Hope. The fledgling dragon Wooyoung’s mother had ordered her guards to dispose of. He could still see the desperation in Yeosang’s eyes, the way his hands trembled as he tried to piece the dragon back together, ignoring the futility of it all.

Wooyoung had found him in the dark corner of the stables, kneeling over the broken remains of Hope. His brother’s face had been streaked with dirt and tears, his delicate fingers working frantically to reconnect scales, muscles, limbs, anything he could. It was impossible, hopeless. But Yeosang kept going.

Without hesitation, Wooyoung grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly. "I don’t care what mother thinks. You’re my brother, and I’ll protect you. No matter what."

From that moment on, Wooyoung had kept that promise. He shielded Yeosang from his mother, took the blame for things Yeosang didn’t do, and faced the cruelty of the world head-on, even if it meant taking the hits himself. It was the least he could do for a brother who had never known the love he deserved.

Even now, even if it meant betraying the people he cared about. Wooyoung knew that Yeosang deserved to win for once.

Wooyoung stepped forward with slow, deliberate movements, his face shrouded in an eerie calm, but it was the gun in his hand that made your stomach drop. It was aimed squarely at you and Mingi, the cold metal gleaming ominously in the flickering light.

“Jung Wooyoung, what are you doing?” you asked, your voice shaky but defiant. Every step backward felt like the edge of a cliff, and you weren’t sure how much farther you could go.

“I can’t let you leave,” Wooyoung repeated, his voice eerily calm, yet every word dripped with finality. His fingers curled tighter around the weapon, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sight of him like this—so distant, so far removed from the friend you once knew.

“Are you out of your mind?” Mingi's voice was calm, but the fury beneath was undeniable. “Move,” he demanded, low and firm, his eyes locked on Wooyoung.

But Wooyoung didn’t budge. His gaze flicked from you to Mingi, calculating, but it wasn’t the playful, mischievous look you once knew—it was cold, detached, as if the person in front of you wasn’t the same Wooyoung anymore.

“I can’t do that,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. 

You searched his face, desperately hoping to find a trace of the Wooyoung you once trusted, the one who made you laugh, who always had your back. But all you saw was a man who had made his choice—a man who was willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant betraying the people he cared about.

“Wooyoung,” you said, your voice trembling despite every effort to steady yourself. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I already told you,” he said quietly, “I can’t let you leave.”

Mingi tensed beside you, but he didn’t make a move. His gaze was locked on Wooyoung, his voice steady as he spoke. 

“You don’t want to do this, Wooyoung. Put the gun down.”

“You don’t get it,” Wooyoung snapped with frustration.

“You don’t get that Yeosang’s trying to level the playing field. He’s trying to make a better world for everyone—humans and dragons.”

“By playing god?” you cut in, your frustration rising with every word.

“He’s not fixing anything! He’s manipulating life, creating things that shouldn’t exist. This isn’t about equality or justice—it’s about power. It’s about Yeosang deciding who lives and who dies, who deserves freedom and who doesn’t.”

Wooyoung’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you saw the desperation in his eyes. “No,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“You’d understand, Y/N. You, of all people, should get it. I’m talking about giving people who can’t fly a chance.”

You froze, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. For a moment, the anger burned away, replaced by something more painful, more personal. Memories of the fall, of being told you'd never race again, flashed through your mind. It wasn’t just your body that had been broken that day—it was your dream, your freedom.

“They told you that because of one accident, you couldn’t race anymore,” Wooyoung continued, his voice soft but insistent. “That’s the kind of world we’re living in. One mistake, and you’re grounded. Forever.”

His eyes softened with something that looked like hope, a hope you hadn’t seen in him for so long. 

“But Yeosang’s the only one brave enough to change that.”

Your chest tightened painfully, the weight of his words sinking in. Wooyoung wasn’t just defending Yeosang—he was defending the dream of a world where people like you wouldn’t be cast aside, where second chances were real. But even as you understood, you couldn’t let go of the truth.

“But at what cost?” you shot back, stepping forward despite the gun in his hand. 

“You think you can fix the world by tearing it apart? By playing god with lives that aren’t yours to control? That’s not salvation, Wooyoung. That’s destruction.”

Wooyoung’s expression flickered, doubt creeping into his features. The gun wavered in his hands, lowering slightly, but he didn’t drop it. 

“You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone break,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I watched him suffer, Y/N. Every day. My mother’s abuse, the ridicule, the way people looked at him like he didn’t belong. Yeosang doesn’t have anyone else. He’s always been alone.”

His voice cracked, and you could see the guilt in his eyes, the weight of years spent watching his brother spiral deeper into darkness. 

“This dragon... it’s all he has left,” Wooyoung continued, his voice steady, uncaring. “It’s his life’s work, his way to take back control from the people who’ve always had it. I can’t let you take that from him. Not after everything.”

“But this is wrong, Wooyoung! Yeosang isn’t trying to save anyone—he’s trying to control them. And if you go through with this, you’ll be just as lost as he is.”

Wooyoung’s face remained blank, no emotion surfacing in his expression. “Then I guess I’ll be lost too,” he said flatly, his eyes dull and detached. 

He didn’t care—not about the consequences, not about you, not even about what would happen next. He was fully committed, no matter the cost.

Your stomach dropped as you realized the truth: he wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t hesitating. He would do whatever it took to protect Yeosang’s vision, even if it meant taking out you and Mingi.

Mingi’s voice was sharp with disbelief, though his body remained poised. “You’re really willing to kill us for this? For Yeosang’s delusions?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Wooyoung said simply, shrugging as if the idea didn’t bother him in the slightest. His finger twitched on the trigger, and your heart pounded in your chest as you stared into the face of someone who no longer cared.

In an instant, the corridor erupted into chaos.

Mingi lunged forward without warning, his hand shooting out to grab the gun just as Wooyoung fired. The deafening crack of the shot echoed violently in the confined space. 

Mingi tackled Wooyoung to the ground, their bodies crashing together with a brutal thud. The gun clattered across the floor, spinning out of reach, and you scrambled to move, your pulse racing as you struggled to process what had just happened.

“Y/N, get out of here!” Mingi shouted, as he pinned Wooyoung’s arm down, breathing heavily.

You ran, your feet pounding against the cold floor as you darted down the corridor. But as you fled, something flickered in the distance. A glint, subtle but unmistakable, caught your eye. You slowed, just for a heartbeat, scanning the shadows ahead. And then you saw it—a rifle’s scope, reflecting in the dim light.

“Aurora Military! Put your hands where we can see them!” The command rang out, sharp and commanding, freezing you in place. The tension in the air thickened, like a weight pressing down on your chest. Out of the darkness, soldiers materialized, their rifles trained on you with unyielding precision.

Your heart pounded in your ears, blood roaring through your veins. Mingi, battered and bruised from his confrontation with Wooyoung, slowly raised his hands. He cast you a glance—tired, but filled with relief. You could see it in his eyes, the silent understanding that the fight, for now, was over.

Despite the devastation in his eyes, Wooyoung complied, rising to his knees with a slow, deliberate motion, his hands raised in surrender. The defiance that once burned so fiercely within him was gone, leaving behind only a hollow shadow of the man you once knew. And yet, as he stared at you, something darker flickered in his gaze—something far more foreboding than the destruction surrounding you.

“You think this is over?” he asked quietly, his voice eerily calm in the face of defeat. 

The soldiers moved in, their steps precise and practiced, but the weight of Wooyoung’s words hung thick in the air, stopping you cold. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him—there was something in the way he held himself, the way his lips twitched with a bitter smile that left you paralyzed.

A deep sense of dread settled in your chest, growing heavier with each passing second. You exchanged a glance with Mingi, whose tension mirrored your own. He sensed it too—the feeling that something far worse was about to unfold.

“You think stopping me will change anything?” His voice lowered, almost a whisper now, yet it cut through the air like a blade. 

“You think you’ve won because I’m on my knees? Because Yeosang’s not here?”

He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with something terrifyingly close to pity. “You don’t understand, Y/N. This... this is only the beginning.”

Seonghwa paced back and forth, his eyes darting toward the entrance of the building every few seconds, anxiety thrumming his chest. The recon team had gone in what felt like hours ago, and still, there was no sign of you. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his heart racing with a mixture of fear and impatience.

He glanced at the soldiers standing nearby, but they offered no reassurance. The silence was unbearable, and every passing second without word from the team felt like an eternity. Seonghwa’s mind raced with worst-case scenarios, every possible outcome flashing before his eyes. What if they didn’t make it? What if you were still trapped inside? What if—

Suddenly, a commotion from the entrance caught his attention. Seonghwa’s heart leapt into his throat as the recon team emerged, and there—being guided by two soldiers and…Mingi—you appeared. Disheveled, bruised, and leaning on one of the soldiers for support, but alive.

Without thinking, Seonghwa sprinted toward you, the moment his eyes locked on you, everything else faded away. The fear, the waiting, the uncertainty—it all vanished in the face of sheer relief.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking as he reached you. His arms enveloped you before you even had a chance to fully register his presence. He pulled you close, holding you tight as though you might disappear if he let go.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and you collapsed into Seonghwa’s waiting arms, heart racing but grateful to be alive. His grip was firm, grounding you in the chaos as your breath came in ragged gasps.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice soft with emotion. You could hear the relief as his hand gently cupped the back of your head, his touch a silent reassurance that you were here, alive.

As soon as Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around you, the overwhelming relief hit you like a wave, and you buried your face against his chest. The scent of him, familiar and comforting, grounded you after the chaos. 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, though your body told a different story. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only exhaustion and pain in its wake. A sharp pain throbbed in your side, reminding you that you weren’t out of danger yet.

“My neck, Seonghwa. My neck!” your voice faltered.

Seonghwa pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any sign of injury. His brows furrowed in concern, and without hesitation, he called out over his shoulder. 

“She needs medical attention, now!”

Your breaths were ragged, and the words spilled out of you in between gasps, desperate to make them understand. “Yeosang–ow,” you winced, instinctively raising a hand to touch your neck, where a sharp sting remained, “Implanted something in my neck." 

The pain shot through you again, but you fought through it, trying to get the words out faster.

“H-He’s planning to blow up the building,” you rasped, panic creeping into your voice. You could still picture Yeosang's cold, calculating gaze as he revealed his twisted plan. 

“He has a dragon he created,” you added breathlessly, your thoughts racing in terror.

Seonghwa’s grip tightened at the revelation, his usually calm, composed face flickered with something darker—anger, fear, or maybe both. The medic worked diligently beside you, but you barely noticed the bandages being wrapped or the sting of antiseptic on your wounds.

“He’s hiding the kids...Jinsik might be with them,” you gasped, your breath growing more shallow with each word.

"But Mingi has the coordinates. You have to save the kids."

Speaking felt like an uphill battle, each word feeling heavier than the last. You could feel yourself weakening, unsure if it was from the panic, the pain, or the weight of the revelation you had just shared. Time was running out.

The medic glanced up from your wounds, her hands still working quickly but efficiently. “We need to get you to the hospital,” she said, her tone firm. “Now.”

“But—” you began, a sharp pain shooting through your side, cutting your protest short. You winced, the world around you tilting slightly as the adrenaline started to fade, leaving nothing but exhaustion and agony in its wake.

The medic’s expression softened slightly, but her urgency remained. “You’ve got that implant, and it’s dangerous to keep it inside you any longer. We have to get it out.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed, his hand still gripping yours as he knelt beside you. “Listen to her,” he urged, his voice low, yet filled with concern. 

“We’ll take care of everything else, but you need to get that implant out, Y/N. Please.”

You wanted to argue, wanted to insist that you could still help, that the kids, Cirrus, your friends needed you—but the pain in your side was becoming unbearable, a white-hot burn that made it nearly impossible to think clearly. Seonghwa’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in reassurance.

The medic was still speaking, her voice a distant hum as Seonghwa held your hand tightly. But your focus had already drifted, drawn to the building in front of you. There was a certain ringing in your ears, an ominous buzz that filled the silence. Something was coming. 

You could feel it—a shift in the atmosphere, like the air had thickened, charged with an electric tension. A pulse of danger rippled through you, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.

The ground beneath you rumbled, a low vibration that grew stronger with each passing second. The dragons in the distance became restless, their uneasy cries cutting through the night air, as if they, too, could sense what was about to happen.

And then, without warning, a deafening roar shattered the silence.

The top of the building exploded in a violent eruption of dust and debris. Stone, metal, and glass shot out in all directions, a chaotic storm of destruction. The medic barely had time to react before she pulled you and Seonghwa into the back of the van, using the doors to shield your bodies from the shrapnel. The sound was overwhelming, a cacophony of crashing, roaring, and the sharp ping of debris against metal.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body tensing as the dust began to settle. When you opened your eyes again, you were met with a sight that made your blood run cold.

Yeosang burst out of the wreckage, his face streaked with dirt and determination and something almost manic in his eyes. But it wasn’t just Yeosang. Behind him, towering over the destruction, was the monstrous form of his hybrid creation. 

The creature was unlike anything you had ever seen. Its enormous body, a twisted amalgamation of decay and divinity, was both grotesque and hauntingly angelic. Its scales, ragged and peeling, glistened in the moonlight with an unnatural sheen like fragments of something long dead. The wings, vast and tattered, seemed like remnants of an ancient glory, now jagged and torn, as if carved by forces far beyond mortal comprehension.

It was alive—but only barely. Its body was a patchwork of sinew and rot, where flesh clung to bones that seemed far too fragile for its massive form. It's as if its very existence was a struggle between life and death.

Yet despite its grotesque appearance, there was something angelic about it, as if it had once been a creature of light now fallen from grace. Its form was a testament to both beauty and horror, an embodiment of forgotten power that stirred both awe and dread. It was as if death had touched it but hadn’t claimed it fully, leaving it suspended in a state of decayed glory.

Seonghwa tightened his embrace around you as the dragon let out another earth-shaking roar, its wings spreading wide as it loomed over the ruined building. Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and awe coursing through your veins.

From the distance, the shrill wailing of sirens grew louder. Wooyoung’s face was pressed against the window, his eyes locked onto the creature Yeosang had brought to life. Despite the chaos, despite the destruction, there was something in Wooyoung’s expression—a glint of pride, almost admiration, as he took in the sight of the dragon.

"What… what is that?" the arresting officer stammered, his voice shaking as he stared in horror at the creature before him.

Wooyoung’s gaze didn’t leave the creature, a small, grim smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His voice was quiet but filled with a certain reverence as he spoke. 

“Hope.”

The roar of engines filled the air as military-grade helicopters lifted off, their rotors chopping through the night sky, while armored vehicles rolled forward, crunching over the debris-strewn streets.

“All units, mobilize! Call for immediate backup—we need every available unit now!” San commanded as soldiers in tactical gear scrambled into position, their weapons gleaming under the harsh floodlights that bathed the battlefield. 

The streets erupted into action. Soldiers clad in high-tech combat gear moved swiftly, mounting their armored dragons—sleek, battle-ready beasts outfitted with tactical armor and advanced weaponry. The deafening roar of jet engines overhead mingled with the guttural growls of dragons as the troops prepared for war. 

Helicopters buzzed overhead, their searchlights cutting through the smoke and debris, while tanks rumbled across the broken streets, cannons aimed at the monstrous threat ahead.

“Focus on the wings!” San barked as he mounted Stelle, her massive wings unfurling with a powerful beat. His soldiers followed suit, rising into the air as their dragons launched skyward, forming an aerial assault team. 

Explosive rounds and streams of gunfire tore through the night, lighting up the sky with brilliant bursts of fire as the soldiers unleashed their arsenal on Yeosang's creation. But the monstrous dragon’s hide was tough, and seemed to grow more enraged with every assault. 

From the rear lines, military commanders coordinated drone strikes and called in air support. Fighter jets screamed overhead, releasing bombs designed to track the creature’s movement. The bombs detonated with pinpoint accuracy, sending plumes of fire and smoke into the air, but still, the dragon stood.

On the ground, chaos raged as Seonghwa crouched beside you, his expression taut with worry. The battlefield was a blur of movement—dragons roaring overhead, along with explosions of gunfire—but his focus was solely on you. Your breathing was shallow, pain radiating from the implant in your neck.

"They need to get that implant out of you. Your family is on the way to the hospital and they’ll meet you there. It’s going to be okay."

You could only nod, the pain making it hard to focus, but Seonghwa’s presence anchored you. Without a word, he leaned closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. His embrace lingered, as though he was pouring all his fears and unspoken desires into the silence between you: how much he wanted you to be safe, how terrified he was of losing you. 

You clung to him, fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket, desperate and unwilling to let go. Even if only for a fleeting moment, you needed to hold onto his warmth. Your heart pounded in your chest, begging for time to stop—just for this, just for the chance to keep him close.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, as if he were saying it more for himself than for you. He stepped back, his gaze never leaving yours as the medic closed the doors of the van behind you.

As the van sped off, you caught one last glimpse of Seonghwa through the small window, his figure silhouetted against the backdrop of destruction. Dragons roared in the distance, their shadows flickering in the chaos. 

The pain in your neck pulsed with every heartbeat, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead gnawed at your thoughts. Yet the warmth of Seonghwa’s embrace lingered, and despite everything, it filled you with hope that, somehow, you both would make it through this.

<< xii | xiv >>

taglist: @chngbnwf, @sunnysidesins @litolmochi @syubseokie @park-simphwa @szakias @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @maliamaiden @signingsongbird @passionandsuga @mitchii

[blueinkjpeg]

Listen to me ramble about traveler ships bc they’re silly!!

Albedo

Both Albedo and the Traveler have a scientific curiosity about the world and how it works, as well as humanity, which they are both not a part of. While Traveler finds enjoyment out of living among them, Albedo prefers studying them from a distance.

This also transcends into curiosity about each other, since they’re both different kinds of immortal ageless entities, they intrigue each other. (Albedo talks about wanting to “study” the Traveler.) They’re brought together by mutual curiosity— Traveler by Sucrose’s description of a gentlyman-ly scholar with much knowledge of Teyvat, and Albedo by tales of the interstellar Traveler with unique abilities and knowledge of other worlds.

They feel a sort of kinship for each other, as they’re both not really of Teyvat. Because of this, Albedo only trusts the Traveler to stop him if he should lose control one day and destroy Mondstat. He also talks about trusting the Traveler around his experiments, and having faith in their “exceptional talents.” He also trusts Travaler with Festering Desire, a sword with the remains of Durin (who was created by the same person as Albedo). Albedo specifically sought out the Traveler help him research the power within the sword, correctly guessing that Traveler (with their purifying ability) would be the only being able to wield it, which Sucrose remarks as odd and a great display of trust.

A final display of trust and perhaps the greatest of all; during the Shadows Amidst Snowstorms Event, Albedo decides to tell Traveler about his creation and relation to Durin, which he has not told to anyone else up to this point. Traveler’s response is to reassure Albedo that they’re not going anywhere, that they’re going to stay with Albedo on dragonspine and make sure to help him find his imposter.

About us, Assistant: Would you oblige me by serving as my assistant? After observing so many experiments, you surely know a good deal about alchemy by now. Relax, we will work together. I don't think you will have any problems. I have faith in my ability to instruct you, and even more faith in your exceptional talents.

Ascension 2: Albedo is the step in which change begins. Clearing away the excess so we can take on all the knowledge that is available. Would you like to investigate this world with me?

Ascension 3: Rubedo in alchemy refers to the refining of feeling. I feel the refining of my own emotions is also thanks to you.

Is there anything else you're interested in?

Albedo: Hmm, anything else...?

Albedo: Probably you.

Albedo: At first, it was because you carry the aura of the stars.

Albedo: But now... it seems that there is more to it.

Albedo: Why is this? Give me some time and I can conduct experiments to find out.

Is there anything you'd like to do?

Albedo: Heh, where should I begin...?

Albedo: In your company, I never lack inspiration.

For drawing?

For experiments?

Albedo: It's good for both drawing and experiments.

Albedo: And not just for these, but for many other things.

Albedo: Speaking of which... I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time.

Albedo: But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.

Albedo: This is a unique anomaly. I think I likely know the reason why.

Albedo: So can you also... give me more of your time?

Albedo (during The Chalk Prince and the Dragon Event): I mean that the time that I've spent traveling with you in the mountains was a valuable journey for me. In the future... If the need arises... Can I solicit your help again?

Traveler: Sure, even if you just want some company, find me anytime.

Albedo: Well… Glad I can count on you.

Albedo: Those born of earth are bound by its imperfections, but those born of chalk and free of impurities... You and I are alike, both composed of a substance that has yet to be fully defined... If one day, I lose control... Destroy Mondstadt... Destroy everything... Can I rely on you to stop me?

Albedo (Golden Archipelago quest): Communicating with others can be a taxing affair, but if I were to choose someone to talk to, I would pick you. You're intelligent, and I like to talk to intelligent people.

Albedo (The Chalk Prince and the Dragon Event): But if you want to know why I trust you... It might be because… The unusual ones like us share a certain degree of understanding.

Traveler: “Unusual ones?”

Albedo: Lonely individuals... Those who aren't like ordinary people, Just like... you and me

Traveler: (Is he implying something?)

+(whatever the hell this look is):

(And being weirdly flirty)

Xiao

Xiao has been cursed with bad karma, while the Traveler has purifying abilities. Xiao talks about how being around them makes him calmer somehow. Maybe because of these purifying abilities, more likely because the Traveler is so universally warm and friendly. Two immortal beings, Xiao has spent his long life tied to his nation while the Traveler has been almost everywhere.

While Xiao has a rough exterior, he is actually curious about humanity and has a great love for them, something Traveler understands and shares. He’s just weary of his karmic debt and history of violence bringing the Liyuan people bad luck, or preventing him from fitting in should he mingle among them. The Traveler likewise does not fit in, but is still beloved. And so, Xiao has expressed that he would be willing to attempt going to Liyue Harbor to learn about the people if the Traveler accompanied him. It’s likely Xiao admires Traveler for their pursuit of understanding Teyvat and its people— something Xiao is naturally bad at— and they make him feel comfortable to pursue it as well.

Xiao has sworn to come whenever the Traveler calls his name. He has done so seconds after being called every time the has Traveler called for him, except when Xiao was so injured he couldn’t hear it. He seems notably protective of Traveler, more so than other characters (remember in 2023 lanturn rite when Traveler “drowned” and Xiao showed up IMMEDIATELY to “save” them, and the second he found out they were just faking it, told Traveler not to do that again because “there’s people who worry about you’?) During the Perilous Trail story quest, Xiao refuses to meet up with the main cast of characters, even after being injured, in fear of bringing danger to them, and only agrees to join them when he hears Traveler might be in danger. (Similarly, during the Windborne poetry event, no character could convince Xiao to join in until Venti mentioned the Traveler will be there. As well as 2023 lantern rite where Xiao mentions he came to Hu Tao’s dinner because he assumed Traveler would be there too.) Voice lines imply he is guarded because he assumes his karma will poison Traveler, and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Despite this guarded roughness, Traveler rightly characterized him as a deeply caring individual, seeing Xiao to the core of who he is, and treats him as such.

Also, Traveler has shown to be dedicated to becoming someone Xiao can trust and relax around. In some of Xiao’s voice lines, it’s implied that Traveler has been trying to come up with ways to help soothe Xiao’s pain, such as; suggesting Xiao try poetry to get out “words unsaid”, asking Baizhu about pain medication, intervening to help Xiao out when he’s overwhelmed. Traveler sees Xiao trying to manage his grief and interact with the people of Liyue more, and presents non-optional support for him. (Learning more to honor Pervases and Bosacius [it should be noted that Xiao willingly gave information about his deceased friends to the Traveler because he wanted to share the memory with them, as well as bringing them up in casual conversation (2023 lantern rite) with Traveler], bringing Lantern Rite to Xiao when he’s too hesitant to attend, making tofu for him since other foods bother him, etc.)

They have a tradition of releasing Xiao Lanterns during Lanturn Rite. [ex1] [ex2] Xiao has given the Traveler crystalflies for their hair for his own birthday, brought Traveler flowers on a few occasions, and has talked about how since knowing the Traveler, Xiao has been blessed with sweet peaceful dreams of the two of them going on strolls, wondering if he deserves something so nice.

In a poetry event, the Traveler has created poetry to show their admiration towards Xiao for his endless watch over Liyue. Maybe Traveler admires it because they’ve never had such devotion over something for so long, and Xiao admires Traveler for the opposite reason, and for being brave. They’ve been notes by many other characters to be close. [x]

About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.

More about Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it? *sigh* This eternal dance of demon subjugation... My fight goes on. But I would like to know more about you.

Ascension: Countless souls have fallen prey to these hands. I too have been swallowed by the darkness — and yet you dare to drive me on. You may think of me as... your companion. You seek to find me salvation? ...You... really are a difficult being to comprehend.

Xiao: ...I don't know if it's related to you, but recently, the pain from my karmic debt has been less excruciating.

Xiao: It's much easier to bear than before.

Xiao: If you have free time, we can go to Liyue Harbor together...

Xiao: If not... never mind.

Of course we can.

Xiao: Uh... alright.

Finally decided to integrate into city life?

Xiao: Ahem...

Xiao: I have no intention of getting close to the lives of mortals.

Xiao: But I know that you often enter and leave the city, walking amidst the crowd.

Xiao: The stories of these times, or their joys... If I don't experience such things myself, it'll be hard to understand your thoughts.

So... you're doing this for me?

Xiao: Yes, to understand you.

Xiao: I had a feeling that it would be difficult, but after having such thoughts, I can't simply sit back and do nothing.

Xiao: I will control myself while I am in the city.

Xiao: I'll try to speak... as little as possible.

I'll be with you.

You can say whatever you want. I'll bail you out.

Xiao: Hmm...

Xiao: Let me know when you're ready to go.

Xiao (Perilous Trails story quest): I've said so much today. But I don't need to hold back as much when I talk to you.

Shenhe about Xiao: My first impression of him was that he's not one to smile. After meeting him again more recently, however, he's still as reserved as ever, but... he seems a lot more relaxed now. Maybe he... met someone special.

Yenfei (Perilous Trail story quest): By the way, um... You and Xiao seem pretty close, huh?

Zhongli (3.4 lantern rite): Just as Xiao may seem unapproachable to most, but [Traveler] has proved otherwise.

Xiao (during 2023’s Lantern Rite): Whenever I think of the ordinary conversations I've had with you, it feels... strangely novel.

Traveler: Strange in a good way?

Xiao: Yes.

Ayaka

Ayaka’s character story 5: “Ayaka is still waiting for a friend to emerge who can walk alongside her on equal footing and stand by her side. That person cannot see her as a member of the Yashiro Commission, or as the Shirasagi Himegimi, nor will their conduct towards her be bound by decorum or status. And if possible, they might also be well-versed in a great many fields of study, and have witnessed all manner of interesting things... and perhaps they might even be able to tell her a story in a pinch. Only such a person might become Ayaka's bosom friend.”

The Traveler is Ayaka’s ideal companion, the exact kind of person she has been waiting for, possibly the only person who truly has the ability to understand her outside of Inazuman society’s perception of her. She finds Traveler interesting and exciting, a stark difference from her everyday life.

When they first met, the Traveler was disillusioned in their travels after briefly reuniting with their sibling, who dismissed them. Ayaka makes the effort to show them and remind them why they began their travels in the first place; the world and humanity is complex and interesting and beautiful, and it’s a worthwhile endeavor to understand and protect them. Ayaka regularly reminds the Traveler of this by being complex and interesting and beautiful herself. Traveler then goes to great lengths to protect Ayaka’s people, because they understand why they’re important to her.

Ayaka is trapped in Inazuma, while the Traveler has been all over the world. Traveler sends Ayaka things while on their travels, and Ayaka makes sure to keep and treasure them. Things that Ayaka has seen a million times are new and wonderful to the Traveler, showing these things in a new light to Ayaka. It makes Ayaka feel like a “regular girl,” something she wishes she could be more often. Traveler indulges Ayaka’s curiosity about the world outside Inazuma, and Ayaka is fascinated by how the Traveler sees the world. During the Warriors Spirit Event, Ayaka and Traveler both talk about how easy and natural it is to fight alongside one another. She says that Traveler always listens to her worries, but she feels like she’s losing in their relationship by not listening enough to Traveler’s issues. A trusted retainer, sensing how close Traveler and Ayaka are, asks Traveler to look out for her. The Traveler is shown to feel most comfortable with Ayaka and her family while in Inazuma. They both understand what it’s like to feel distant from a sibling.

Good Morning: Oh, good morning, Traveler. ...Whenever I see you in the morning, somehow, it makes me feel like... today is going to be a good day.

Aspiration: Today, as in the past, I aspire to be somebody whom everyone can trust. But what motivates me is no longer the responsibilities I shoulder, or the expectations of other people. Rather, it is the fact that you are this kind of person, too.

More about Kamisato Ayaka V: […] unless I am mistaken, I trust that you will not take issue with this slight departure from convention on my part… That is to say... I'm a little tired, may I rest my head on your shoulder? Just for a moment.

Desires: […] But even so, shouldn't I still follow my dreams? Shouldn't I... share my true feelings with you?

Ascension: Our time together has been so pleasant that I am fearful of losing what I have gained. I'm sorry, I must compose myself.

Kamisato Ayaka: At least, that's a romantic way of approaching this topic [poetry].

Traveler: I feel the same way.

Kamisato Ayaka: More importantly... I hope that, between the two of us, we need not be concerned with our identities...

Kamisato Ayaka: I'll just think of you as... my closest confidant.

Kamisato Ayaka: Being able to enjoy tea with my closest confidant — it feels like I'm in a dream...

(Closest confidant...)

Kamisato Ayaka: ...

Kamisato Ayaka: Can I... Hold your hand?

Ayaka (during her story quest): I will always be here for you as your... Ahem! As your friend. I will always support you.

Ayaka (during her story quest): I need to explain myself. I got a little nervous back there and... -I just made up any old excuse. But don't think of this as me taking you sight-seeing, please! I brought you here because… because I genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

Ayaka (during the Warrior’s Spirit Event): [Explaining that she was stressed out about a situation, but had decided against sending a letter to Traveler to ask their opinion on it.]

Traveler: We're friends, you can have my advice anytime. / I'd be happy to help however I can.

Ayaka: You've helped me many times before, and you've always lent me your ear when I speak about my troubles. But if I'm always turning to you for help, it almost feels like you're somehow besting me. Hehe, is it strange for a friend to think that way?

Traveler: Not at all. / I understand how you feel.

Ayaka: Thank you. I was really delighted to learn that you also entered the competition…

Traveler (during the Warrior’s Spirit Event, after Ayaka shows them her Fontaine outfit): This look really suits you. / It's a beautiful outfit and it suits you perfectly.

Ayaka: (during the Warrior’s Spirit Event, about a duel they just won together): Although the audience members might not have noticed, there were many moments where I would've been in trouble if it weren't for you by my side drawing away the opponent's attacks. Without you, it would've been impossible for me to win on my own. It's just as I expected, my swordsmanship is still far from your level.

Traveler: Ayaka, you helped me many times as well. / You're being too modest, Ayaka.

Ayaka: Really? Hearing you say that makes me want to spar with you all of a sudden. To tell you the truth, l've been hoping for an opportunity to spar with you ever since we first met. That wish was half fulfilled today at the exhibition match.

Traveler: Next time, we'll find a chance to go a few rounds.

Ayaka: Sure. But... until then, make sure you take good care of your sword. If I ever manage to steal it one day, your life will also be in my hands. Hehe... I've always wanted to say something like that. Did it sound strange?

Traveler: It sounded very much like Miss Orlith. / It was cute.

Ayaka: […] It's precisely because we're friends that we should spar often and learn from each other.

(Also, hoyoverse did NOT need to frame their conversation like this. Between the setting sun???? Crazy.)

Wanderer

The Traveler and the Wanderer are both parallels and ideological foils. They have both been betrayed and abandoned by family and loved ones, doomed to travel and wander the world in order to understand it better because of that.

But the Wanderer has learned humanity’s cruelty during these travels, mostly in the Fatui. He believes humans to be evil and self-serving, and so he acts that way too. And as an immortal, finds mortal limited lifespans cruel and unfair, clutching onto his grief and anger in a means to cope with what he cannot control.

Meanwhile, the Traveler has learned the beauty of humanity during their travels. They believe in the inherent goodness in everyone, and so they act that way. Curious and sensitive, like Wanderer before his three betrayals, even though Traveler has arguably been through just as much hardship as Wanderer (which may be a reason Wanderer held contempt for Traveler in the past). The Traveler is also an immortal being and knows of the reality of limited mortal lives. But instead of seeing it as cruel, Traveler sees the beauty in mortals living free and learning and growing in their limited lifetimes.

Their ideologies are in direct conflict. The Traveler’s ideology has led them to getting hurt often, while the Wanderer’s ideology has led him to being isolated. They have a lot to learn from one another. They have parallel scenes of saving one another in Wanderer’s story quest, maybe to allude to this.

AND, with the Wanderer having erased himself from everyone’s memory except the Traveler, the Traveler now is the only person to know the real Wanderer. Not only do they know all the evil Wanderer has done, (led to the death of Teppi which Traveler was famously angry about, tried to kill Nahida, etc), they know Wanderer’s history (seeing the flashbacks in Wanderer’s archon quest), and briefly met a version of Wanderer that is most like his personality before the betrayals. Traveler knows all sides of Wanderer, and is still his friend. Wanderer is perplexed by this, often expressing it in voicelines. But this means Traveler knows him the most, they own part of his identity as well, as Wander has allowed them to give him a new name. A new name that he has not let anyone use except the Traveler, preferring to go by “Hat Guy” in the Akademia.

The Summertide Scales and Tales events seems to have tipped Wanderer and Traveler over from reluctant allies, to friendly rivalry. While still being weary of him, the Traveler can’t help but seek Wanderer’s presence because they enjoy learning about his vastly differing perspectives on life. The Wanderer respects them because of their vast strength and knowledge. He has also presented Traveler with flowers once. Wanderer got his vision— the embodiment of his sense of freedom, the vessel of his new life— by saving the Traveler. Only by saving them did he free himself from his past and was able to start over. That’s kinda crazy lowkey.

About us, Rivals: So, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? Huh. Well, what are you going to do about it? Take your time. I'm in no hurry.

(“Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad ooooo I’m in your head”)

About us, Collaborators: I'll never be one of the good guys. I'm just here to pay my dues after what you've done for me. But what about you? Shouldn't you come up with some excuse for our meetings? If one of your friends mistakes you for collaborating with the enemy, you're on your own.

(He makes the same excuses to be around Nahida, though his lore explains he does truly admire her. Just saying.)

About Damselette: Let me ask: what should you do if you were to encounter a "damsel" who is oblivious and innocent at any given time, and unconcerned and unfeeling in any given situation? If it were me, I could at least challenge her to a fight. But if it were you... with your conscience, I would stay away from her.

(He’s calling Traveler kind-hearted, calling out their optimistic ideology, and warding them away from danger with his more grounded/pessimistic ideology.)

Birthday: Give me your hand. Heh, there's no need to be nervous. I'm just taking you to a vantage point. How is it? The scenery here should be quite breathtaking. There's no need to thank me — I see little point in it.

(Wanderer): Thank you for trying to look out for me. Go get some rest.

Wanderer (his story quest): All you have to do is keep your pretty eyes open, and try not to fall behind.

Traveler (main Sumeru Archon quest, while they’re still enemies): Even if it means losing yourself, would you still want to become a god?

Wanderer: Hmph, those words almost make you sound like a friend who actually cares.

Wanderer, Imaginarium theatre: No, I don't want to "chat.” What are you making that face for? I thought you knew my deal by now. … *sigh*, Fine. You can talk, and I'll sit over there and listen. Happy now? .

Wanderer, after saving Traveler from falling to their death in the 4.8 summertide scales and tales event: Hmph, passed out from a little fall, did you? How fragile...

Wanderer, once Traveler woke up: Morning, sunshine. You were having a nice little dream there, weren't you? Not gonna lie, it was kind of adorable.

Jeht

Through the Golden Slumber world quest, it’s made very clear that the NPC Jeht is significantly [romantically] closer to the female Traveler Lumine. In the quest, they travel together for a time and become close. In a moment of crisis involving the Fatui, Jeht is ordered to kill Lumine, but refuses out of affection for her. She takes the punishment instead, and is offered to a Fatui scientist for experiments by her tribe. Jeht was told it was Lumine that betrayed her, and Lumine was told Jeht had betrayed the tribe, but neither of them chose to believe something bad about the other.

At the end of it all, Jeht chooses to fight by Lumine’s side over her other friends. Inspired by Lumine, Jeht decides to go on her own journey. Their goodbye is tearful. There is also White Day art of her giving Traveler a gift.

Lyney

Lyney has only known the Traveler for a short time, but they already have a checkered history. The Traveler trusts Lyney and his sister immediately after meeting them, hangs out with him for a few days, and defends him in murder trial. Only for it to be revealed Lyney was part of the Fatui, who the Traveler has an even worse history with, having killed their friends and put Traveler and their companions in mortal peril many times.

Lyney offers an apology and some of the truth, but the Traveler is still cold with him and brushes him off, believing themselves to be betrayed (and likely influenced by mixed feelings of seeing such close twins). Despite openly admitting to having difficulty with opening up, Lyney makes the effort to be open and truthful with the Traveler during his story quest, rebuilding trust between them. Lyney puts in extra effort to be honest, because he truly wants the Traveler to like him. He gives the Traveler a rainbow rose by the end of it, which even his sister marks as odd, because it represents passion and romantic love in Fontaine. His sister asks the Traveler to “protect that flower for her,” likely alluding to Lyney.

The Traveler trusts him after this enough to include him in the main quest again. Lyney remarks multiple times about how he feels close with the Traveler, how he enjoys talking with them, how the Traveler’s eyes shine like topaz and Lyney could never lie to such beauty. There’s also official White Day art of Lyney giving the Traveler chocolates.

In Arlecchino's story quest, he’s implied to have talked in detail about the Traveler to his other siblings, and is eager for the Traveler to like them. He is hesitant to involve the Traveler in family business, wanting to keep them safe and saying he will protect the Traveler with his life. The Traveler similarly shows the desire to protect Lyney, stepping in between him and his Father during conflict.

They resonate with one another concerning their twin siblings. Lyney having almost lost Lynette, and the Traveler being separated from their sibling. For the Traveler, this grew from jealousy to admiration, as they see Lyney caring so greatly for his family, a trait Traveler shares. Traveler understands and respects Lynsey’s loyalty to his (fatui) family, and would not be surprised if and when that loyalty drives them apart.

While they are close now after much effort rebuilding trust, they are both silently aware their friendship has an expiration date. Traveler’s goals contradict the Fatui. And with Lyney declaring his loyalty to the Knave as her successor, and this mysterious Fatui scheme the House of the Hearth have been roped into, they both know it’s just a matter of time before circumstance sees them on opposing sides of the battlefield. Though it remains unaddressed for now as they try to enjoy the time they have left together.

Hello: […] Well... Hmm, your eyes are like topaz, precious, pure, and lovely. I like them!

When it snows: Achoo! Phew... I've heard some say that when you sneeze, it means that someone's thinking about you. Is it Lynette, I wonder? Or... is it you?

Good Morning: C'mon, just five more minutes... Huh? Oh! It's you! I thought it was the radiance of the sunlight on my skin that I felt — turns out it was your radiance all along!

About Lyney, sweet talker: I should probably emphasize again that I'm rarely so open with anyone — I guess it's because you're not just anyone.

More about Lyney I: It seems we're both keenly interested in each other. Well, know that the honor is mine! Haha, relax. I couldn't ever tell lies to your mesmerizing eyes — not even if I tried!

More about Lyney V: […] Sometimes I think people would feel sorry for the real me. Do you? *sigh* Or do you find my little games absurd?

(Awwe he cares about what Traveler thinks.)

Ascension: Doing all this for me... Are you trying to steal this magician's heart, by any chance? Well, in that case, congratulations, my dear apprentice — or should I say, "companion." For you have succeeded!

Lyney: It's almost impossible for me to lie to your face... Maybe it's because I can't bear to see that hurt expression of yours.

Lyney: Say, why don’t you look at my hat? Do you see anything different about it?

Huh... Don't think there's any difference.

Lyney: Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.

Well, alright then.

Lyney: […] No, the whole thing was misdirection.

Lyney: I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your bag.

Lyney: Now, can you guess what I stole from you?

My heart?

Lyney: A most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.

Lyney: What I actually stole, however, was your "attention." Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!

Lyney: […] Anyway, I just want to find a warm, free, and peaceful home for all of my animal assistants.

Lyney: A place where they'll always enjoy care and being lovingly looked after, with no need to worry about food or shelter...

Lyney: To be perfectly honest with you, this [Traveler’s teapot home] is by far the best choice for them that I know of... but I wouldn't want you to feel pressured to take them in, or to persuade you using honeyed words.

Lyney: Good morning, (Traveler)!

Lyney: It would be great if I could see you every morning.

Lyney (during Arleccino’s story quest when Traveler says they’re staying to help): I... just... Thank you. I was really hoping to keep you out of it, but even if I could think of some other reason to turn you away, I'm not sure I could convince you. I know things could turn dangerous, so I promise you this from now on, I'll protect you like my life depends on it.

Lyney (main Fontaine archon quest): Traveler, Paimon, I hope you enjoy the rest of the show. There may be a lot of people watching tonight, but you alone are my true witnesses.

Lyney (Receiver of Friends From Afar Event): Hehe, or maybe your cooking is simply too delicious to resist. The next time our paths cross in Fontaine, you'll have to fire up your cooking skills for my other siblings as well. How does that sound, oh great master chef?

Traveler: Whatever you say, oh great magician. / Whenever you're free, just set date!

Lyney: Oh yeah? Well then, I'll have to clear my schedule.

Lyney (his story quest I think?): I'll believe anything as long as it comes from you. So, please prove your prowess to me once again.

[anthaeum]

mona lisa.

love is when you try to make it out alive.

🏹 — wherein leo valdez realizes the absolutes in his life.

leo valdez x roman apollo!reader. enemies to lovers to exes to lovers (implied), set in the future, non canon-compliant. gn!singer!reader.

(not proofread.)

wc. 906

💭 : it's 3:22 AM and i have school tmr but this legit wouldn't stop bugging me until i posted it. the title is from mona lisa by dominic fike, listen to it here! please let me know your thoughts, comments, and any reactions through my askbox! enjoy reading 🤍

Leo Valdez knows there are absolutes in his life. 

One of them is metalwork. Smelting, forging, blacksmithing — the flames and heat of the furnace were never a nuisance to Leo when his nimble fingers and tools pulled and twisted at any piece of metal, whether it be the finest bar of gold or the lowest piece of scrap. The son of Hephaestus takes pride in his craft, displaying the tiniest coin he created or the biggest metal dragon he’s fixed on a glass shelf in the confines of his heart. 

His friends are one of them. He thinks of Piper, his sister, who he still cooks tofu for because she says "it's the best she’s ever had". There’s Reyna — and he doesn't tell anyone, but he’s glad he found a friendship in Reyna, someone he doesn't have to mind the language barriers around. There’s Frank, who trusted Leo with his life, literally and figuratively. He thinks of Jason, his best friend, and Leo counts him as two absolutes. 

There’s also the little things, too. He always runs maintenance checks every week, he ties the right shoe before the left, he keeps his loose change in his pant pockets, he wasn’t good at freehand engraving. 

Another, he thinks, is you. 

You, the sweet child of the sun. 

The radio echoes across the room, filling the quiet workshop with life. 

Leo Valdez, sweat-drenched and exhausted, stares down at the sheet of gold on his anvil. Engraved on its surface is a set of symbols he knew by heart — a harp, six lines, and the letters S, P, Q, and R. 

You, you, you, you. 

He remembers the first time he laid his eyes on you. He doesn't remember the way you knocked an arrow and aimed down at him; his mind’s eye just sees gold — in the shine of your eyes, your armor, the tips of your arrows, your aura, you.

He remembers the war's aftermath — his war specifically. He remembers searching through seas of orange, purple, bronze, and gold; none of them were his golden archer. 

He doesn’t know if he’s still dreaming when he hears your voice echoing through the radio. He stays still, eyes wide and unmoving, and it’s only until the radio croons a, “that was Yn Ln’s latest single, ladies and gentlemen!” does he snap out of his reverie. 

He remembers the taste of golden victory. Nights under starlight, conversations of the future, you (finally) in his arms. The stars shone faux spotlights on you as your singing lulled Leo into peace he hadn't known for a long while. 

You told him your dreams, your love for singing, and how you wished to be able to share your voice to the world. Suddenly, the taste in his mouth is bitter. 

Because here he was, in his workshop, listening to you, when he could have been celebrating you and your dream (now, your reality) instead. 

He puts his head in his hands as if struck with agony, the unfamiliar beginning melody of “another hit from the rising popstar!” playing on the radio and echoing through his mind. 

(Yet, Leo can't find it in himself to turn the radio down.) 

A walk would clear his mind, he thinks. 

Any attempt to clear his mind is futile. You’re all he sees. 

In the billboards, posters, street signs. 

You, you, you, you.

Leo stares. He stands and stares, unmoving, at the features he fell so in love with. He's transfixed at the way your eyes shine and crinkle at the corners, the curve of your lips as you bare your teeth into a grin. You look ethereal in this light, it would make Parisian paintings look over at you in envy. 

The same tattooed lyre he memorized peeks from above your gold-etched name. He wishes he could feel them under his fingertips once more. 

Anguish akin to the heat of hot iron crushes his chest. He feels the fingerprints of yearning litter his heart, indelible and engraved. This was your doing, Leo thinks; because, no matter how many times he tries to deny it, the same aching muscle has never once left the confines of your hand. 

(And Leo can't find it in himself to turn away. he can’t think of anyone else.)

Leo knows it’s only a matter of time. Passersby’s comments fall on his eager ears, and Leo’s heart only beats faster when he hears a, “they’ll be performing tonight!”

He tries not to think of the feeling in his chest, of the painful yearning and the jittery nervousness, as he pushes the door to the jazz bar open. 

When he hears your voice, oh so melodic and beautiful, he freezes. 

You’re under real spotlights now, shining and so golden under their light. 

You look at him, and Leo swears his heart stops.

Your eyes still shine the same. 

Leo Valdez realizes another absolute — you, in all your golden glory, would forever be his weakness. His heel tingles at the sound of the arrows you draw with your song, as if they’d home in on the one vulnerable spot on his flesh and leave him for dead.  

(And yet, he thinks you’ve done it. You, the one Leo Valdez sees in Parisian paintings. You, whose voice Leo Baldez hears in TV stations. You, the sweet child of the sun, who had pierced his heart with the same arrows that stared him down all those years ago.)

aaaa my first post ever ever .... hope u all enjoy !!!! reblogs are so appreciated, please tell me how u liked my fic 😞😞

© ANTHAEUM (2024). do not republish, edit, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[raayllum]

Season 6 Trailer Breakdown

You all know what this is, although a quick note that I won't be drawing much from other teasers or clips released / a "this is what probs happens in each episode" amalgamation may come out later depending on motivation. There are some scenes I left out as 1) we know where those clips are from already (like the water funnelling shadowpaw clip) or they seem self explanatory (Karim and Sol Regem's plotline, etc).

Furthermore — there is one specific screencap with something I noticed that I'd argue is the biggest / most plot relevant spoiler in the trailer; I am enclosing it at the end for posterity. If you want to read the rest of the breakdown but want to avoid a potentially big spoiler, please stop reading after *** . I don't want anyone to be more spoiled than they'd like to be. Okay? Okay.

With that out of the way, let's dig in

First up: Kosmo's monologue overlaid with clips of the Starscraper and some kind of wintery storm. Kosmo is the male Skywing / celestial elf with vitiligo on the left in another shot

Kosmo: I see a thousand stars. A thousand eyes. Worlds one and myriad. All of us nothing, and all of us infinite.

This probably relates to his understanding of Star magic and possibly the arcanum itself. The wintery storm may be something from the past or present up here in the Frozen North, a lightning storm that Avizandum or Zubeia created, or it could even be from Callum pulling lightning down they face the large blue dragon we've seen in a few clips now (Luna Tenebris' "unsuitable" heir) and later on in the trailer.

Then we see Rayla, accompanied by Kosmo and Astrid, overseeing the beginning of Callum's trust fall 'trial' for lack of a better term with the blindfold over his eyes. It's clearly extremely cold and he doesn't seem particularly happy, but... willing participant, I suppose?

We're gonna come back to the staffs in a second, just you wait. To start, I want to affirm that there are multiple shots of this same location being unveiled, and make up the bulk of the Callum / Rayla + Starscraper portion of the trailer, such as these:

We see eight staff-holders, though it's not clear if one is missing. This could mean a 'Startouch' elf for each primal source + two others, or something unrelated to magic at all. There was "eight" singled out in the 5x08 poem ("eight in a line") though this is a circle, not a line.

The reason I highlight this is because 1) I've been confident that Viren's staff contained Star magic or extra power of some kind for years now and it seems that the answer is yes and (bonus points) it's not a quasar diamond, which also helps keep another theory of mine going and 2) we saw in the teaser some of the Viren-Kpp'Ar flashback fight scene, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were partially fighting over Viren taking the staff from Kpp'Ar, period.

Moving on, I'm speculating that the growing blast we see may be Aaravos (or another Startouch elf) being cast down to earth and creating the Sea of the Cast Out, given that Ripples describes it as, "The falling star plummeted, down and down and down, until it struck the breathless world below. With its impact came a long and terrible night: The earth bled! The seas churned! The sun and moon hid for weeks behind the sky’s screaming storm!" This may be what we've seen Aaravos weeping over additionally: not his own banishment per se, but the loss of someone else (Leola?).

the next main 'set piece' of the trailer is the big battle scene in the encroaching Sunfire civil war, and while there was speculation previously from a shot of Aanya and her arrow that she'd joined the fray, we now have confirmation. I am intrigued about what has Ezran being on the battlefield on foot without armour, weapons, or his usual dragon cavalry.

You can even see her in the background here on the stones, seemingly firing off her special flashy arrow in order to help Ezran get away from Karim's forces, which may be why he's caught up in the middle of things without a lot of preparation. This might be related to the closeup shot of her from this trailer with her bow and arrow, but given the nature of the arrow, it could easily be the other closeup shot of her with the fancy unfurling flower gemstone arrow we got in the Teaser.

For more individual shots:

Aaravos still has his chest piece in full and it doesn't seem like he's been expelled from the heavens yet. Looking very pointedly at my "his chest piece is out there somewhere and maybe in the cube as a quasar diamond" theory. I could see this being him on trial or something with the other Startouch elves

Then we have Rayla and some form of Runaan. He has red eyes like a corrupted Banther, but the green is completely base. This Runaan also doesn't have his canonically broken horn (just like Rayla's vision of him and her other parents in 5x01) so I'm willing to bet whatever this is is preying on Rayla's memory of Runaan > the actual Moonshadow elf himself. Could be a nightmare, or even some kind of illusion (maybe Luna's heir's moonstone collar has some messed up illusion stuff?). Rayla also seems to be underwater or in some kind of dark place, though the background for Runaan looks more fittingly like the Silvergrove. I certainly would not be opposed to Callum and Rayla having to face their worst nightmares, or something — stuff like that is always interesting angsty and juicy characterization.

Speaking of nightmares, that would also fit with this screencap of Callum. We know from 6x01 details that he has a nightmare regarding Aaravos, and we also know from people at cons that this screencap was not there. Looking at the scene itself, the deep purple lighting highlights that it's not quite 'real', nor is it necessarily possible due to the background being Finnegrin's office on the Sea Legs, where Callum last did dark magic. I could very easily see this being a dream where Callum is having horrifying visions of himself outside his body, and this is one.

I do find it interesting that, rather than black dark magic slug goop like I first thought on his hand, it's actually blood on his hand, and the changes this indicates of Callum's psyche / fears. Normally when Callum breaks things (primal stone, moon opal necklace, the green slug) it's with his other hand, for starters. But more importantly, I think it's interesting that this nightmare isn't about being flat out possessed, but of being more of a dark mage: the eyes, the corruption, the blood, etc. and how that may lead to Aaravos' will being further enforced over him. It speaks to a recognition of his own agency as well as growing fears of being not just controlled, but corrupted along the way.

Claudia on the beach probably after killing Sir Sparklepuff (hence the blood and corruption) having the worst mental breakdown of her life (which is saying something) so far, either upon realizing she's lost her father anyway, Viren being alive but leaving her, etc.

Then we have Callum the infamous Frozen Ship, now burning. Either he was in there with Rayla and escaped first, leading to him sadly thinking she's gone before she manages to get out on her own and they happily embrace... or he was vibing outside without her (by her request no doubt) and shit's hit the fan. I could see him mourning her and her reappearance is when they finally fully reconcile, and I could also see him running back onto a burning ship for her (or trying at least). Y'know, the way you do.

I am famously always here for Rayllum being desperate as fuck about each other's safety, so I know I'm gonna eat that shit up regardless and it will be Delicious.

Onto the less clear parts of the trailer, in some ways:

We have what seems to be Terry and Claudia presumably at the same place, the Valley of the Graves, back in Katolis, although for what reason is unknown. I could see them maybe coming back to Katolis to the Orphan Queen's grave, for some reason. I could also see the spell Claudia doing (hence the light hair and yellow on the chest) being a release spell for Aaravos — which asks when and how does she get the prison from Callum and co. — or some 'opening up the heavens' spell that'll come close to killing her; it could be something else entirely. It has to be something where Terry seems reluctant to let her go through with it and has probably tried to stop her (yes internal Terry turmoil!! Come back to me) and failed. I've kept meaning to make a post about it, but I could see Claudia post-6x01 come crawling back to Terry at Aaravos' beckoning ("He'll be a useful ally") and Terry realizing Claudia didn't come back to him out of love like he thought, but partially to use him because she's too far gone right now to see it and trying to keep her distance emotionally.

Which asks the question: we all thought this was maybe from the beginning of the season, with Viren or Claudia or something trying to get into Katolis. But what if it's closer to the end?

I posit this order of things for two reasons. The first is that we know in 6x01 Soren leaves to go look for Zubeia with Zym, reunites with Corvus at the Sunfire elves (6x02-ish?), Corvus and Ezran see Karim's forces at one point (the Teaser) with Zym helping Ez escape. We even have a shot of Soren leaving Katolis with Zym in the trailer.

The shot of Soren being bloody is clearly at Katolis on the battlements, so it seems that it has to be after the Sunfire battle has happened, and I doubt Janai and Amaya can win considering Sol Regem having his wings healed by the Sun seed, and it's S6 "everything goes wrong" time.

It could be that the Sunfire battle didn't end well (Karim as king or forces corrupted by Pharos-sleeper agent? Kim'Dael is free?) even with Aanya's help, and people have retreated to regroup in the stronghold that is Katolis... A stronghold that Claudia wants or needs to get to, for whatever reason. Soren would have good reason to look pissed. Maybe the big explosion from earlier on in the trailer is even just Claudia, making her presence known on her way into Katolis for some kind of scare-factor.

And, of course, Claudia could go to Katolis in the first half of the season (6x02—6x05) when bloodied and bruised Soren isn't there, and just Ezran in the rain. There could be some magical power-up, and then Ez has to flee and go to the Sunfire elves, the situation not much better. But this doesn't explain why we see Soren presumably at Katolis and looking as beat up as he does unless it's a shot from very near the end of the season.

And here's where we get to the Big Spoiler, imo, so please click away now if you don't want to see it!

Furthermore... we Know the Sunfire battle is happening near the End of the season (sometime 6x07 onwards) because there's no way Rayllum is leaving the Starscraper any earlier than the end of 6x06... and they're there, along with Astrid, at said battle.

Y'know this big shot of the Sunfire battle? Well, the trio is there in the upper red corner, when you zoom in.

There's Astrid (blue and white), Callum in between flapping his wings, and presumably Rayla with her borrowed wing bracelets from Kosmo (though I suppose it could just be Kosmo himself, but I doubt it). Why they're coming to the battle, I don't know — if Aaravos is out by this point, they might have bigger problems that they need to collect Ezran and co. for, and didn't realize the level of conflict had escalated — or somehow, we get through the Starscraper portion of the story without the prison breaking, though Callum is still presumably possessed (?) — and it is Claudia who releases Aaravos near the end of S6.

That could be possible, especially if Claudia, whose S6 plotline is a total mystery, comes sniffing around the Sunfire side of things and can steal the prison here and... take it back to Katolis because it needs to be? Orphan Queen had Aaravos' chest piece? Idk. But yeah, this is where things get kind of tricky, and if we did go this route I'd wonder why not let Claudia steal the pearl in 5x09 at all, but we'll have to see. It could work! My money is still on Callum possessed or otherwise having a hand in setting Aaravos free, but really anything could happen at this point

Just thirteen days to go!

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and which mythical beings they are

requested by @mesanthropi ^^ physically held myself back from going on rants for shua's and hao's and jeonghan's pls (iykyk)

masterlist

seungcheol

vampire. formidable, mysterious vampire seungcheol from a powerful family name who lives in a huge, ominous castle and somehow manages to make sucking blood look sexy… shakes he's so fine oh my god. honestly vampire!cheol with glowing red eyes and an intimidating presence and the most smug fucking smirk in the world is such a vibe, and he also has the whole “i was born centuries and centuries ago” old hag thing down to an art

jeonghan

siren. specifically a mermaid-type siren that lives in the sea and has a pretty iridescent tail. water-dwelling being jeonghan just makes so much sense to me bc he has their fluidity and their peaceful and their mischief and also??? jeonghan with a shimmery mermaid tail and captivating siren voice???? i'd willingly drown myself for him actually, siren song be damned. he has the silvery voice of a siren and the ethereal looks to be one fr

joshua

wood nymph. bambi-eyed wood nymph joshua who communicates with the birds and tends to his forest and has flowers weaved in his hair and stars embedded around his eyes… the nymph!joshua obsession is Real guys and i am definitely a victim of it. curly haired joshua is just sooo wood nymph coded and i can see him as some soft-spoken, pretty being who lives in a birch tree and guides stray travellers when they get lost in his woods

junhui

witch junhui with his black cat familiar and his dented cauldron and his cottage in the middle of the forest!! witch junhui with his mini apothecary and his goofy-sounding spells and his eyebrow permanently half-singed bc his enchantments keep backfiring!! witch junhui with his soft spoken words and bright laugh and total kindness to everyone who happens upon his home!! witch junhui is so so dear to me and he really is just. a witchy little dude

hoshi

shapeshifter. does this idea feed into his furry agenda a bit too much? yeah, it kinda does, but oh my god just imagine tiger shapeshifter hoshi who's part human but can turn into a large, big-fanged and bold-striped tiger at a moment's notice. he really just genuinely gives shapeshifter vibes, and every year he schedules one week where he'll traipse off into the nearest mountains and blow off some steam in his tiger form for seven days

wonwoo

dragon. okay so this is kinda not a humanoid mythical being, but wonwoo is soooo big friendly dragon coded. i can imagine him as a large, red scaly dragon, snoozing atop his massive hoard of gold in a secluded cave in the forest, little wisps of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he snores contentedly. that doesn't mean he can't be scary if he wants to tho, and can burn down any puny humans who try to steal his hoard in the blink of an eye

woozi

demigod. part-god woozi is just such a vibe okay, and he rlly does give off a hercules-type feel, where he can do inhuman things and seems almost untouchable in his awesomeness, even though he's right there in front of you. and he has a hatred of the gods and a mild tolerance for humans but at the end of the day, he appreciates and loves both for all that they do. (also in a percy jackson demigod sense, he is totally an apollo's kid and no i don't make the rules) 

minghao

fae. y'all know how far my fairy minghao agenda runs by now and like ??? can you blame me ???? the idea of sassy smol hao with fairy wings and a squeaky voice is cute and all, but also i just think he fits the idea of the entire tall, mysterious fae folk really well too. with his pointy fae ears and his shrewd gaze and his ability to say half-truths and riddles and give sage advice about how to live your life all at once, he really is very much a fae-like person. 

mingyu

some sort of demon. he's so loud and bright and kind that, despite his huge presence and glowing eyes and the horns protruding out of his mess of fluffy hair, you don't even register that he's some dangerous, hellish creature before something happens and he just snaps, the air around him visibly darkening as he tears after the thing that caused him to lose control. he's so sweet and kind but so undeniably dangerous all at once. 

dokyeom

elf. i'm thinking lord of the rings elves, except i haven't actually watched lord of the rings but i have this idea of them being tall and rich and elegant beings, and it makes me think of dokyeom. he's just so pretty, and the elves rely on the natural elements to survive, right? dokyeom is just so sunbeams peeking through forest leaves, so little rabbits bounding through the undergrowth, so hand-whittled arrows and folk songs around a campfire and tall, tall, beautiful elves. 

seungkwan

will o’ the wisp or a sprite. he's endearing and mysterious, and once you gain his favour he's staying glued to ur shoulder for the entirety of your dangerous quest through the magical woods. he's very chatty and also very elusive, constantly flitting around in the air and disappearing in a wink of light before appearing on your nose once again. you can't tell if he's a help or a hindrance, but he's cute and bright and makes the journey a lot better

vernon

a smurf. smurfs count as mythical beings okay, and while ive never actually watched any smurf movie thing ever, i think vernon would make an absolutely brilliant smurf. they give off silly goofy weird adorable vibes, and that's basically vernon in a nutshell. also smol vernon with blue skin and lives in a mushroom looking house??? that's kinda cute and actually something that vernon might wanna do irl not gonna lie

chan

nine-tailed fox. he's so mysterious and sexy and kind of dangerous but like. his unbelievable handsomeness kinda outweighs the danger. honestly i don't really have an explanation for this other than that the Vibes r there for some reason and he'd look so cool with those glittery wisps of magic threading through the air around him as his eyes glow a mysterious colour before he launches into a kdrama-esque fight sequence against the latest monster

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @zilinxue

[comicaurora]

Nick Bostrom's "Fable of the Dragon Tyrant," which CGP Grey adapted into a video, left me feeling unsatisfied, and I got a certain unsettling vibe about the entire story.

I don't think it was the dragon's lack of agency, that just makes it an unusually traditional Western dragon.

You're a master at picking narratives apart to figure out why they don't satisfy. Do you have any insight, opinions, or cracktheories about why this story might be unsatisfying to some folks?

Probably because it's a very unsubtle metaphor casting the dragon as death, and death itself as a cruel, malevolent beast devouring and subjugating humanity for its own whims. This is very much intentional on the part of the writer. The paradigm of the story is that the dragon is huge, terrifying and incalculably cruel, and everyone lives their lives in the shadow of its terror or are just too deluded to recognize that it's COMING TO EAT THEM OH GOD

Intrinsic in this metaphorical structure is the idea that the dragon, aka death, is an artificial imposition on the natural order, and if we just got rid of the big ol' mean dragon, everybody would live forever and be fine. Accepting that the dragon exists is framed as a sign of desperation or even cowardice. This is an understandable read when facing a monster that only SEEMS timeless and inevitable (like LeGuin's thoughts comparing the current state of capitalism to the historical acceptance of the divine right of kings) but becomes bizarre when applied to something as legitimately factual as biological death. It's not even framed as unnatural death - the dragon specifically gets sent mostly old people. The metaphor is very explicitly about trying to frame death from old age as a big horrible dragon that everyone only thinks is unstoppable.

I get what they're going for here. The purpose of this story is to make the audience question if death is a true inevitability or if it can be fought, staved off, even defeated. But in the process, the story frames the systems of the world that have formed around death - doctors, pallative caregivers, will executors - as macabre gears in the machine dedicated to the genocidal cruelty of feeding the dragon.

In the dragon tyrant framing, these people only exist to make the rest of the world more okay with flinging themselves down the gullet of the dragon and to streamline the process by which everybody dies. By casting death as the enemy, everybody whose jobs are based on the compassionate act of comforting and aiding people suffering from loss become reframed as collaborators with the incalculably evil enemy, and everyone who's ever accepted their own death becomes a loser. This is a deeply cruel way to frame people who dedicate their lives to helping people through one of the hardest and most tragic aspects of life.

Damn, that's fucked up. Look at this eloquent idiot, explaining why we should be okay with letting a big dragon eat us because it's the natural order. Clearly he is wrong and it's not debasing at all to want to stay alive and not get eaten by a big dragon. This is a fallacy of false analogy: death is like being eaten by a big mean dragon. All his arguments look ridiculous when applied to getting eaten by a big mean dragon, therefore they must be ridiculous when applied to dying when your organs start failing because they've been running nonstop for nine decades and biological systems accumulate wear and tear like literally everything else in the universe.

Entropy increases; systems break down, from DNA to planetary orbits. Successfully shoot down the dragon and you'll end up outliving everything you thought was eternal, even the stars. The goal of immortality isn't really to personally witness the sun exploding, it's to have more good time. It's to make your twenties last into your sixties. It's to keep your back painless and your vision good for longer. We want to postpone the story's end as long as we can, and so we extrapolate "more time" into "I never want to die, I want to be young and healthy and hot forever" even though "forever" doesn't exist. To look to "forever" is to understand that your culture and language will drift, your home will eventually crumble out from under you, your shoreline will erode and change, your climate will transform, your tectonic plate will subduct or shatter, your moon's orbit will slow and tidally lock, and eventually your sun will start burning helium and cook your planet. You don't want "forever" to look like that, you want it to look like your twenties felt. But at that point you aren't fighting the Big Mean Dragon That Eats People, you're fighting the ocean and the biosphere and the earth and the stars, trying to hold them in place against entropy so your immortality can have an equally immortal world to enjoy it in. No, this argument doesn't want true immortality, it wants their twenties to last longer. But it can't admit that.

Back to the story. There's a condescending and spiteful tone in the narration. Death (being eaten by a big mean dragon) is OBVIOUSLY awful and we should all be fighting as hard as we can to make it stop happening. Even a child can see it.

The story even helpfully adds a lengthy moral explanation at the end, in case you didn't understand that the dragon was the inevitability of death and we should dedicate all our resources to figuring out how to make a big rocket and shoot it.

"Nobody should ever die" is generally understood to be a childish dream with extremely obvious and unpleasant consequences that would turn its realization into an unending and waking nightmare, and once out of the confines of easy metaphor, the story tries to act like that wasn't what it was just saying. But its more realistic proposed substitute, "It would be great if people could live longer and have more healthy, youthful years in them," is probably the world's most uncontroversial statement. This story frames it like a bold revelation that the world will attempt to beat down and crush out of a misguided acceptance that Big Mean Dragon comes for us all. It's a morality fable whose conclusion is "I hope science improves the length and quality of our lives, potentially even to the point where we never have to die at all," which has been the number one goal of huge swaths of science since the invention of agriculture. This is not a bold or controversial take. It's just being written as though we're all looking at the naked emperor and pretending he's wearing pants.