#split end mender

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 8

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 3k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (piv, morning sex, come marking?, cock warming) DOWN BAD!DAEMON, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this chapter became 6k+ words so i had to split it T_T. at least that means i'll be updating relatively faster lol. i hope you enjoy since all the fluff is here HAHAHAH and if you do, please leave a comment/reblog to let me know <3 <3 <3. once again, the high valyrian is internet translated, so it might be wrong. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching

Otto nods as he passes a group of clergy members. He makes his way down the otherwise empty temple, eyes forward as he clutches a firm figurine in his hand. He grunts as he gets down on his knees in front of a fresco of the seven pointed star.

He lights three candles in front of him, saying three different names each time. He places the figurine he brought with him beside them. Of course, it wasn't a figurine but a woolen doll. He says another name, your name, then starts this prayers.

"Father, guard my family through this trying time, my son, my daughters... my daughter," he brushes the face of the doll then closes his eyes. "Stranger, put the souls of the departed Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon to rest.

"Warrior, strengthen my daughter and spare her and her unborn child from succumbing the same fate. Mother, grant her comfort and good health through her journey to motherhood. Crone, guide her and grant her good discernment, so that she may not fear the unknown. Maiden, preserve her beauty, her light."

He opens his eyes and stares at the point that represented the Smith. He grits his teeth before sighing in defeat, "Smith, fortifier... mender... I beg," he sighs, "mend her heart. Mend her body. I beseech you. Let not my prayer fall deaf on your ears any longer."

The candlelight before him glows as he waits another day for the answer to his decade old prayer.

Meanwhile, the candles in your room have long been put out, including the one you normally keep lit by your bed. You are first to rouse today, and yet you could not rise from bed, as you were pressed beneath the body of your husband. Daemon sighed contentedly on your chest, one arm and leg draped over you. You have never slept together (or so you think) so you figured that Daemon probably moved a lot in his sleep, which is how you both ended up in this position.

You stare at the top of his head, continuing to brush through his silver hair. In truth, you did not want to rise. You wanted to stay in this peace, in this stillness. It would not last long, you knew it— you dreaded it.

Goosebumps form on your skin when you feel your husband's hand brush over your belly before hooking on to your hip. You begin to feel your heart race as you remember what your father told you the night before.

How could you tell him? How could you possibly tell Daemon that you were with child, when you knew he was so diligent in assuring you would not be? Was it even possible to carry his seed when he never finished inside you?

Against yourself, you remember the day you caught Gwayne kissing a lady behind a curtain, and how you attacked him because you thought he had gotten her pregnant. The poor girl ran away as you beat your twin, and Gwyane defended himself, saying that's not how you do it. You did not know any better, so you told him you did not believe him and nearly forced him to go to your father to announce you would be marrying the lady. He, in turn had to explain what he knew, to both your horror.

You were no fool to simply believe the words of your stupid twin, so you made it your mission to find out the truth. After sneaking books from the Citadel itself, you read many a book only to find out your twin was telling you the truth.

That was why dread rippled across your skin, for could there ever be a world where Daemon purposefully pulled out and is not angered by this news, where he does not accuse you of infidelity?

You go between worry and peace as you brush your fingers across the prince's skin. You try to convince yourself that all will be well, but each time you do, another part of your mind raises that nothing's ever been well with you. You decide then, even if just for this moment, you will pretend the calmness of your husband will remain.

But the world is cruel, for at this same moment, Daemon awakens.

He stirs with a groan, face rubbing against your sternum. The robe you had on was no longer covering your chest. Your heart races as he looks up at you, his violet eyes still sleepy, "sȳz ñāqes."

You do not understand, but you assume it means good morning, and so you say, "good morning."

Daemon sighs as he pushes himself up, removing his pants. You tense as he comes atop you and kisses your neck. He nudges your head to the side with his own and soon, he pushes your legs apart with his knees.

Your hands come to his hip bones, where you then dig your nails in, making him groan. You whimper when you feel him grind his groin into yours. He is half-hard.

"Sesīr isse ñuha ēdrugon, jaelan ao." Even in my sleep, I want you.

You whimper yet again when he begins to rock against you, digging your nails deeper into him.

"Gīda ilagon," he mutters as he fully parts your robe, repeating in common tongue, "calm down."

You are taken aback by how he pecks your lips once before kissing your neck again.

"Dreamt about fucking your pretty cunny," he mutters lowly between kisses, "wanna make it real."

His words make you ache and throb. In a way, you were comforted by the thought Daemon wanted you, even if it was just your body. You close your eyes and let yourself relax. You sigh against his ear, nuzzling into his shoulder, and brush your hand up his back. As your hands trail to his biceps, his skin breaks out with gooseflesh and a high pitched whimper leaves his lips.

"Fuuuuuuck," he whines out rather pathetically.

There is a languidness to his movements unlike you've ever experienced. His normally brash and pointed demeanor is soft and gentle, his kisses even more so. There is no sense of urgency whatsoever as he rolls his hips against you. If you didn't know any better, you would have believed that he wanted to savor the moment.

He did. He wanted to savor your body, as dreaming of it had him feeling some indistinguishable way. You would never know this though, for he would never tell you.

By the time you've become shaky and your cunt was absolutely sopping wet because of Daemon's now fully hard cock rubbing up against it, he finally pushes into you, drawing out a deep groan from your throat. You tighten your legs and arms around him and your teeth sink into his shoulder.

Daemon grips your thighs as he thrusts into you. He barely pulls out, seemingly determined to go deeper and deeper each time, wanting— needing to be pressed flush into you. His hands sneak beneath you, fingers raking up your shoulder blades to your nape before tangling into your brown hair. He breathes heavily against your ear as your bodies grow hotter and hotter.

You both remain in this snug position, doing this constricted dance until your bellies begin to burn. He doesn't speed up at all or pull out any more than he already has. You feel your body begin to tense and your climax begin to build, and then, just then, a spirit overcomes Daemon.

The next moment, he has his hand on your jaw, forcing your head back. Just as you reach your peak, he pulls out and thrusts his wet cock on your slick folds, once, twice, until his hard member is soft and twitching. His load shoots out up to your chest and sputters down on your belly, garnering a surprised gasp from you. It's hot and viscous against your skin and you wonder what it would have felt like had he released in you. There's so much of it too.

"Fuck, fuck, fu-" Daemon repeats, thinking the exact same thing you were.

You expect him to roll over, because there is no way he wouldn't after soiling you, but you gasp yet again as he comes crashing down on you, skin sticking with a squelch.

He is arrested by your warmth and wants nothing but to plunge into you again. So, in his greed, he grabs his still twitching cock and pushes it into you, releasing a long and throaty groan as he does so. It makes you tremble and whimper his name. You were not expecting the intrusion, so you brush your cheek against his, hoping he understands to give you a moment of repose before going again.

After a while, though you still felt tender from your orgasm, you brush your cheek against him once more, signaling you were ready for him again.

He does the strangest thing however, and simply brushes his cheek back. He pulls his head back, looking down at you, "litse riña." Pretty girl.

You notice the softness of his violet eyes and knit your brows at it. He is so overwhelming you cannot help but kiss him. There was still remnants of morning breath in your mouths, but neither of you cared.

Daemon is loathe to have you pull away. He leans into your touch as you brush his unruly hair back. You slowly shake your head, "I do not understand, my prince."

"iksā sīr rāpa se bāne," you are so soft and warm. He brushes your noses together, "ñuha ābrazȳrys," my wife.

A line forms between your brows at the foreign tongue. You wait for him to translate as he brings his hand to your cheek. He stares at you for a long moment, thumb brushing your skin.

He makes no attempt to decode the High Valyrian for you, and soon, a knock comes upon your door.

Daemon is instantly irritated as he glares over his shoulder, muttering, "who the fuck is that?"

"My servants. I-"

Before you could even finish, your two servant girls are waking in, and Daemon watches them as they head for your bathroom, horribly and painfully unaware of him. He waits for them to reemerge, and the moment they do, he is instantly screaming, "FUCK OFF, CUNTS! THE DOOR'S CLOSED FOR A REASON."

You hear their gasps, squeals, and apologies before scurrying off, slamming the door behind them as they did.

Instantly, yet again, Daemon relaxes and nuzzles against your neck.

"D-Daemon," you whisper, sinking your fingers into his long hair, "they normally wake me up at-"

"I don't give a fuck," he quips, tightening his hold on you, "they'll know better now."

You clench your jaw and sigh, making mental note to apologize to your girls for the prince's actions.

You begin to doze off, as does Daemon in all his gluttonous glory. The two of you stay in bed until lunch time, which is far longer than you've ever personally stayed.

Arryk, who had been stationed outside your door for a while now, is concerned by this. He raps at the entrance to your room and calls your name. When he receives no response, he peaks inside and inspects the stillness of it all. Unnerved by the idea you were sleeping in, he thinks the worse and walks in, calling your name again. His breath is forced down his throat when he sees the flash of white hair on the bed. He sees a hand rub down a toned back and he immediately reels back, quiet and as quick as he possibly can.

You wake the second time because of the growling of your stomach. It is loud and painful, so much so, it wakes your husband.

He groans, brushing his nose against you, "hungry?"

You huff, craning your neck to look at him, finding his closed eyes, "clearly, I'm starving."

A rich chuckle rumbles from his chest. He opens his eyes and they twinkle with mischief, "I could feed you something meaty."

Your face contorts, "I do not think you'd want me to bite your cock, my prince."

Daemon laughs, hard enough to fully awaken him. He wheezes, and rolls of your chest, "I did-" sigh, "not say it was-" wheeze, "my cock."

You hum, "oh, of course not. Apologies."

Your sarcasm only maddens him further into amusement.

You take this as a chance to wriggle away from him, and so you do. The semen still on your skin is tepid and pasty as it smears against your chests. Your robe is completely lose as you come to a stand. You decide not to dirty your garment with Daemon's seed by covering yourself, so you head for the bathroom with your robe open.

You gasp at the swiftness of how your are grabbed and pulled back. Your body collides into Daemon's chest. Your care for your satin robe if for naught, because it sticks on his come anyway. Daemon's is hypnotized by your scent. He is quick to brush your hair over shoulder and mumble against your nape, "you wound me with your eagerness to flee me, wife."

His hands come to squeeze your breasts and you whimper as you turn to him. You knit your brows and pout, "that is not true."

"No?" he says a little louder than he ought as his emotions slightly get ahead of him, "are you not running from me this moment?"

You frown and fully face him, having to peel your robe off his chest as you do, "I'm simply going to bathe." You stare at his chest, "you've made a mess of me."

Daemon tilts his head, "not nearly enough, in my opinion."

You find the self-satisfied grin on his face, "you should too bathe with me."

"Mmm, well then," he takes your hand, "bathe we shall."

The water that your servants had brought was now cold, but you both made do with what you had. Daemon is simultaneously unsurprised and taken aback by how you tend to him first, he does not know why. You've bathed him once before, and yet it somehow feels different. You scrub his chest with cloth and inspire him to do the same for you. You lean into his touch as he washes you off, and it makes his stomach roll.

He takes a good look at you, your skin, the marks he left on it, your nose, your knees, your hair, everything, and he cannot believe something so... so immaculate, so resplendent could be borne from a man so detestable.

"You are not your father's daughter," he says so casually.

You look up at him, freezing because of his random sentiment.

"You are the gods promise to me. A woman made to sate my fire."

Your brows knit at his words. You tilt your head and it makes him nearly goes mad. How darling you ask, "I sate your fire?"

He hums and pulls you into him, kissing your arm as he did, "stoke, perhaps, is truer."

Your breath hitches when he brings you to his lap. He sighs as he feels your flesh against his, it wont be long until he's hard all over again. He licks a stripe up your left breast, "I am, in fact, insatiable."

Your heart races and he peppers kisses up your neck. You lean your forehead against his after kissing your lips. You whisper in earnest, "I will try."

Daemon pulls back, hands coming to your neck as he looks at you.

"I will try to sate you."

Fuck. The thought should have made him laugh, but it doesn't. It makes him burn. He cannot say anything, for his mouth seeks yours. He kisses your lips and you two sequentially spend another hour or so turning the water warm as it splashes all over the floor.

You're antsy and eager to feast by the end of it all.

You help each other get dressed, and Daemon finds the way you hastily button his doublet ever-so-endearing. When it's his turn to help, he shushes you and rubs your shoulders before securing your corset from behind, "your food will not fly off the window."

You rub your aching stomach, "I pray it flies into my mouth soon."

He snickers as he finishes tying your laces.

You quickly run towards the vanity and hastily begin to brush your still damp hair.

He watches you bounce your leg and the faintest of smiles graces his lips. He watches your chest begin to rise and fall rather quickly, and soon his brows furrow. He walks up behind you, "aeritta run." Restless thing.

He takes your hand and your jaw, but it is unlike most times he does so. His touch is gentle. He does not force you to hand your brush or look forward, but you do. You look at each other from the mirror; your chest continues to heave.

"Paez ilagon," Daemon enunciates, "say it for me, won't you?"

Your brows furrow in slight confusion. You release a breath, "pez ilegon."

"Paez," he corrects.

"Paez."

"Good," he nods, "ilagon."

"Il... Ilagon."

"Rōvēgrior," Daemon leans in and mumbles against your temple, "excellent. Now..." he kisses your temple, "once more: paez ilagon."

You take a breath, doing your best to mimic his accent, "pa...ez i- ... lagon."

"Arlī," again, he motions with his pointer, "speak confidently."

"Daemon."

"You can do it," he tilts his head at your reflection, "paez ilagon."

You sigh and nod your head, "paez ilagon."

His violet eyes twinkle, "rōvēgrior," excellent, he claps his hands, "spoken like a true Valyrian."

You turn to him, breath hitching at the sight of his smile, "wha-"

Daemon takes your face and makes you turn forward.

You look at his reflection and grip your skirt, fearing you'd upset him. But then he begins to style your hair and butterflies overcome your belly. You try to ignore the thump of your heart by clearing your throat, "what d-does it mean?"

"Paez ilagon is slow down."

"Ahhh," your jaw drops in slight embarrassment, "I see."

Daemon points, "hand me your pin."

You get the hair pin on the vanity and hand it over, "and the other one?"

"Hmm?"

"Ro... roz- rovevegregor."

Daemon tilts his head as he chuckles through his nostrils, a soft smile remaining on his face as he finishes securing your hair in a similar manner he does himself.

You witness all of this and your heart skips a beat.

"Rōvēgrior," he repeats, "try to roll your tongue."

"..."

"Go on."

"RRRRozeofoieve-"

He laughs and takes a hair tie from the table. He quickly does his own hair then takes you by the hand. He ushers you to the door as he continues to chuckle, "we should get you something to eat. You sound ill."

You are hypnotized by his melodic laugh. You don't dare interrupt it, so you whisper under your breath, mostly to yourself, "but what does it mean?"

"Excellent," he says, hearing your whisper. He opens the door for you, "it means excellent, gevie."

You do not notice Arryk as you exit your chambers, "but what about that?"

Daemon does not notice him either, "what?"

"Ge- gevie?"

"Gevie?" he repeats.

You nod.

Arryk bows and greets you, "princess."

You turn to him as he bows again, "my prince."

Daemon does not spare him a glance. Beautiful, it meant, but he instead tells you, "it is a secret."

You do not respond to Daemon, but he does not mind. He is fully content to stare at you. You smile at your ward, taking a second to guess who it is, "good morn, ser. Are you... Erryk?"

Arryk examines you, finally breathing a sigh of relief to know you are unharmed. He is also glad to see you are not dressed in attire that... exposes the good works of your husband. In the same second, he notices your said husband, and how keenly is gaze is set upon your beaming form. He clenches his jaw, "nay, your grace. Neither am I my brother, nor is it morning."

"Oh," you purse your lips, "my apologies, dear Arryk."

Daemon quickly pulled out of his haze, raising a brow at dear Arryk, "you may go."

Arryk turns to him.

"I will keep my wife company today," he says, wasting no more time in idle chatter, taking you by the hand.

You both walk off and you offer Arryk a smile and nod in regard.

Arryk clenches his jaw but forces himself to smile back at you. He is uneasy by the prospect, knowing how fickle and volatile Daemon can become regarding you. He stares at your joined hands as you walk away, deciding to trust the prince for your sake.

[shardofcognition]

League of Parallels - LoV vs. Class 1-A - Twice

Once I noticed it, I couldn't put it back.

Every member of the League of Villains in My Hero Academia has pretty much a direct counterpart in Class 1-A, and a fated confrontation at the climax of the series.

Except, one and all, their counterpart is NOT their fated opponent. Instead, the mirror image is almost always someone they barely interacted with.

Unlike most of the League of Villains, Twice doesn't meet his fate for good or ill at the hands of a member of Class 1-A, but instead at the wings of Hawks. The closest 1-A member to the confusion is Tokoyami, who, like Twice, has struggled with losing control of the sentient manifestation of his Quirk, his shadow self / selves. But Twice's parallel is Ochako Uraraka.

The Broken & The Mender

~ Poverty - Loyalty - Friendship - Self-Worth - Loneliness ~

~ Toga ~

What is the boundary, between a hero and a villain? If a villain sacrifices everything to save his friends, is he not heroic also? If a hero shoulders everyone's burdens, who is to save them, when the time comes? If a hero seeks to save everyone, doesn't that include the villains, too?

Ochaku / Twice: THE SUPPORTER

At first glance, Twice seems like he couldn't parallel anyone, except perhaps himself. He's stricken, split in two and shoddily rejoined, constantly both for and against everything, even himself. At least, until we got to know him better, when his wounds were bound up by Toga. At the end of the day, his theme is that a man divided against himself is defined, not by his words, but by his actions. His quirk is, ultimately, a measure of admiration for his friends and the world he lives in. Uraraka, on the other hand, begins her heroic work not to save the world, but to save her parents. Her logic is that heroism is a lucrative career - and she's out to make some money, because the problem that she saw, most of all, was poverty. But Ochako's theme, like her quirk, is that she wants to lift the burdens of other people, largely by taking them on herself. From the moment she volunteers to give Deku her exam points, to the point where she pleads for him to be given the space to rest, to have the suspicion against him lifted... Ochako is looking to the burdens of others, and seeking to lighten them. In the end, that includes Toga, too, where the burden is judgement and scorn. But when it comes to their parallels? Twice and Uravity both struggle with imposter syndrome, both struggle to define heroism, both focus on their friends and families. Both are driven to sacrifice themselves, and both come from, not the bottom of society, but from at least a deep awareness of material and personal want.

And, at the end of the day, like it or not... both are defined in part by their relationship to Toga - a woman inclined to admiration and even idolization of others but who, ultimately, refused to bend an inch to society's rules. A confident opposite, who was truly unlike them, but who had grasped something that each desperately needed.

And both of them, ultimately, asked the same questions of the world and the audience... "What makes a Hero? What makes a Villain? Can you call someone who gives their everything to save their friends truly villainous? Can you say the same of a hero that lets the outsiders to society languish? And in the end, how do you deal with the ones you couldn't save?"

<< Bakugo / Dabi

[aquaticcryptid]

(Rattling my own bones as I yell at the projection of my future self)

Use your damn split end mender!!! You are not in middle and high school, you are allowed to live and make that life good for yourself!! Now make yourself that pretty prince boy you always talk about!

[vaingod]

teaching my girl how to take care of her hair and experimenting with products and its so wack working with hair that is different than yours not just in texture but her hair is 2 feet long and im used to shoulder length curls that can tighten up to a few inches off my scalp when dry so i keep putting like a few drops of product on her and watching her hair drink it up in nanoseconds like some eldritch beast, felt like i was watering a thirsty horse kept pouring split end mender on her hair for 5 solid minutes doubting if itll ever stop needing more

[ircnwrought]

@ironwoven (liam) gets a semi-plotted elide !!

__________☾     A HAND ALONG THE STONE WALL STEADIES HER AS SHE MAKES HER WAY BACK TO THE DORMS. though her limp is more pronounced now at the end of the day, her wince comes when her teeth accidentally brush against her newly split lip. imogen && some of the others have given her the tools to win her challenges. despite the threshing injury that never healed right ( with no mender in sight for a child of the rebellion ), she finds her size && speed work in her advantage most days. today is not one of them. ❛   it looks worse than it is. it'll heal in no time && definitely before the next time i'm called to the mat.   ❜ a small smile at that. she is a fighter through && through despite the quiet demeanor.

[eriisaam]

(Ended up being too long to leave in tags so I'll go into more detail since I'm post-posting)

Both Kyo and Erin have a dead, effectively-zombified doppelganger they both ended up killing for the second time. For their doppel's initial deaths (they're them from a doomed timeline rather), Kyo died to the effects of a self-invoked perish song he used to kill that instance of Hel with him, and Erin originally succumbed to a death curse invoked by Eir's weapon, then was done in by the Heart's Rite of Angrboda.

Both of them later ended up killing their doomed equals by their own hands, with Erin having to kill hers twice over, due to her doppel having been split apart into two entities: the soul and the body.

Ephrel died twice over and is currently on their third life. Their first time was being shot by their own Breidablik and mortally wounded, then a second time in a new life (the effects of Breidablik isekai'd their soul into a -sona role, reversing their typical ability to summon heroes to them), they took their own life when they became overwhelmed by influence trying to turn them into Grima, and opted to kill themself, rather than their now-widow. The latter one, through even more clusterfucks that came up, led to that second isekai'd life to become a reanimated corpse who proceeded to terrorize Ephrel's widow and then some, until they 'died' and mutated further into a completely different life and form of their own. (Their third life is a combination of their original body from their first life, their soul being ripped out from the corpse of their second life, and proverbial duct tape slapping it all together to force Ephrel back into one piece for the third time, now as an alfr).

Ephrel also is the surviving sibling of Dehlia, who (in this AU) passed away earlier on in Ephrel's life from an accident. (Though in other AUs she lives).

Kyo and Teru also have one childhood friend who died due to complications and circumstances related to the traumatic event that left either in the states they were in (with a second one thought to be dead, though turning out alive in another world and found later on).

While Eclair himself isn't dead, his origins were that of an incomplete forma whose looks were modeled based on what scraps of records there were of Kiran, a different summoner who was dead. Kiran, incidentally, is one of the many summoners dubbed the Ancient Summoners, and they among others were either presumed dead due to existing ages ago, or infamously went out in some other (often tragic) blaze of glory cemented in their history. Including, but not limited to:

Kiran - the First Summoner - The records that remain of them are damaged and lost through time, and while the general consensus is that they disappeared at some point from Zenith, nothing much is known otherwise beyond the trademark legacy they left that can be recognized in other summoners (their name being the customary "default" before the summoner's actual name is known, the general robes, the title, and Breidablik itself duplicating across those who are bestowed the role).

Eclat - the Dimensional Traveler - Their ultimate fate is unknown, but the last thing known about them is they opened a gateway into what would later be dubbed the outer realms (worlds not part of the Fire Emblem series, so basically anything crossover-related) and was never seen again since.

Kilana - the Beloved Mender - The sacrifice of her life is what caused the ability for all summoners and realms to break the barrier between life and death, making it feasible for alternative iterations or the outright summoning of previously-canonically-dead heroes to be summonable or encounterable, once again alive and well.

Hiru - the Mirage Melody - in this AU it should be noted that this version of Nidavalier and Jotunhelmr encountered a fracture in the realm that made it possible for dangerous pokemon and digimon to break through and potentially endanger the two countries who were already heavily weakened due to their own warrings as it is. Hiru sacrificed himself and his body was digitized and absorbed into the Digital World in order to lay a curse on these openings, stabilizing them through bridging connection with the godly mons of either world, and allow more neutral and peaceful introduction and coexistence (and later heavy utilization) of either monster types in both Nidavalier and Jotunhelmr (the only Zenithian realm to have already utilized outer world entities and influence, with many other examples usually being inverted examples).

One of Hiru's digimon partners originally survived when he hadn't, but when Eitri attempted to retrieve Hiru's prosthetics and Breidablik, he was mortally wounded and then lent the rest of his power to Lerena, effectively being absorbed into her and dying as well.

Solle & Hilo - The Forgotten Ones/The Light/Dark Wards - During an earlier instance of the invocation of the Heart's Rite of Angrboda, many of Solle and Hilo's pokemon either succumbed to the curse or were forcefully turned dormant otherwise, trying to save as many people as possible in Askr and Embla from being killed by it. As far as Zenith knew proper, both ended up completely abandoning Zenith after what was deemed Askr and Embla's greatest failure and tragedy, not only causing a (for a long time) irreparable relationship split between the two gods, but gave the impression that both summoners abandoned them (which Embla of the two took REALLY badly). In truth, Solle survived long enough for zeir to become the first person in Alola to take part in the Trial of Alola Aina (in this AU it's a trial of the sense of patience, virtue, endurance and intent that allows trainers who undergo it to earn the right for an extension of the respective Tapus to be granted to them), only to succumb after ze completed the trial due to complications with the heart's rite. Hilo lived long enough to pass down the explanation of the trials, accidentally invent Z-crystals (earlier instances were mutated hero crystals), and presumably died of old age, but not before preserving the two's legacy in Alola (which Zenith hadn't known about until the present day).

Jerem - Traveller Among Dreams - a raven zoanthrope who fell in love with Leiptr (the Nifilian royal's very ancient ancestor), died to a mysterious illness and caused a massive feud between Freyja, Gaia and Hel over who gets to lay claim over the fallen summoner, and who inspired Leiptr to attempt to fight against the three to try to retrieve Jerem, only to succumb to her own injuries and die alongside her. Not only was it believed Freyr took enough pity on the two that he was rumored to do all manner of things (depending on the retelling of the tale) from restoring the two proper to reuniting them in a dying dream together, but the two inspired a tragic romance passed down in Nifilian folklore, and Leiptr of the two became the namesake of a great peak said to have been the two's burial site.

Noel - the only summoner not to have a proper title and remains unconfirmed if he's even a real person or not. Said to have immediately blundered with Breidablik to catastrophic degrees that he effectively blew himself up to death, unceremoniously and carelessly. His existence is left dubious, as when Freyja rewrote people of Zenith's memories of Ephrel's existence, all memories of Ephrel were replaced and attributed to Noel instead.

Which OC is dead?

[justmahina]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: *freebie with purchase* MONAT rejuveniqe oil intensive and rejuvabeads samples.

[iheartvintage1]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: NEW - Neutrogena Triple Moisture Split-End Mender, 3 Ounce New , No box.

[pikagatogirltits]

We've been mutuals long enough that I hope I can properly convey that the following questions come from a genuine place of trying to understand each other. But I have two main questions for you:

1) Why is it WotC's job to create a no UB format? Mark's entire stance here is "WotC doesn't believe there's enough players interested in a no UB format to justify pouring resources into making one." He's also stated in response to separate asks that if fans did create a no UB format that caught on and became popular enough WotC has no issues with giving that format official recognition. Magic has a long history of fans carving out their own ways to play, so I don't see why suddenly it's WotC's job to create this theoretical format.

2) However, I also want to know why other people get to police what's in my deck. I hate Phyrexians, I am not a fan of body horror and there's a lot of Phyrexian art that majorly squicks me out. I do not include cards with art I find uncomfortable in my decks. I don't like the advanced technology in Kamigawa Neon Dynasty. It's not all bad, but there's some cards that I find look too "sci-fi" by my own deeply personal and arbitrary tastes. I don't run any of those cards in my decks. The sci-fi tech of Neon Dynasty does more harm to my personal suspension of disbelief than any UB cards because at the end of the day UB cards aren't canon and have zero bearing on the lore...but cards like Circuit Mender and The Reality Chip are canon to the lore and do have implications about the setting that I now have to reconcile.

But I also would never for a moment presume I have any right to demand that my opponents don't run those cards in their decks. I feel like I would rightly be called out as being unreasonable. So why is there an acceptable double standard if the cards involved are UB cards? My Alesha commander deck has three whole UB cards (four if you count the fact that I'm using the AC printing of Reconnaissance because that's the version I happen to own.) My deck already contains a long dead trans woman warrior from Tarkir, a haunted doll from Duskmourn, a zombie merchant from Theros, and a dwarf barbarian from Faerun. Why does me adding in a hobbit, a nazgul and one of the Doctor's companions suddenly cross the line?

I don't know, I fear I started to get ranty there at the end but I'm frustrated. I want to find a proper middle ground where people like me who like UB cards and want to be able to play them in the formats we already play are happy, but the players who don't like them can still find places to play. I don't think the solution is trying to split existing formats into UB and no UB versions, nor is the solution forcing people to have to constantly rule 0 every casual game they ever play. I do think that if all the no UB players could get together and decide on a single no UB format to make and play so they have some kind of outlet, it might do a lot to improve people's experience.

I just also wish the anti UB crowd would stop with all the talk of how UB is "killing Magic" or "ruining the game." It makes me, someone who likes UB cards, feel like I'm the problem, that the way I like to play is "wrong." I feel like I need to constantly defend my continued enjoyment of the game.

Hey Mark, with Universes Beyond becoming legal in every format in 2025, can you shed some light on what wotc plans to do to facilitate play for new and old players who will not use Universes Beyond products and do not wish to take part in games with it, without them having to rely on others accepting to rule 0 a casual game?

I try to be honest on this blog. We’re not doing anything to facilitate that. We did the market research and found a very small percentage of players refuse to play with Universes Beyond. And if that changes over time, we’ll adapt.

There are subsets of cards that different groups choose not to play with. For example, there are people that have a real problem with horror imagery. We’re not doing anything to facilitate that group either.

Magic’s core natural allows players to choose what they play with. If you really dislike something, don’t play with it. You also can choose your play group, so if you find like minded people, you can avoid whatever you want.

And limited formats exist for players that don’t want to play against opponents playing components they don’t like, but don’t want to limit what they can play with.

[jaggedwolf]

air support, we need you (or: tscosi 2x09)

some bomb dropping, ofc, spoilers below duh

same game, top three things i had feelings ‘bout in reverse order

3. time skip time! Everyone could use a bit of a breather, even if it can’t live up to Arkady’s goat farm dreams

I thought all the planet assignments made sense, even if the completionist in me wanted it to differ more from the split that had already happened this season

ok ok the shipper in me was 50-50 but we’ll address that later

2. my man park!! is back!!! 

Showing up with an anti-aircraft missile launcher as a wedding gift. I kept joking that Park would keep up his finale trend of showing up as a surprise being cool (as cool as Park can be anw), and thought it wouldn’t happen till it did!

and him also quietly saying the defector wasn’t Shelly....Park...are you going to talk about this...

narrowly avoided extended crew singing for the third time, will he keep up this success rate?

I would take a mini-episode that just followed Park in the second half of the season (Park: I am an independent man who needs no crew)

1. Arkady attacking Krejjh because she thinks they’re an enemy, AND then McCabe pulling a gun on her to make sure she didn’t run away. Bro. Bro, that shit was a direct hit to the id. Do I even have words for how good that was

Knowing what was about to happen as soon as Arkady said “You” in that tone of voice, ugh

Krejjh saying Arkady instead of First Mate Patel in desperation, and then brushing it off with a :D after

But god, McCabe. They’ve been so compelling this season, and yeah, maybe they’re approaching everything like a nail with the hammer they’ve got that shoots bullets, but the point is, it fuckin works 

Arkady buys the threat (the promise of her crew’s safety?) more than she buys Krejjh’s reassurances 

(though reading the transcript, Krejjh specifically telling Arkady “Science Officer Liu will never forgive you”, not “forgive us”, is excellent too)

“the only authority figures yet to disappoint me” / “I’m not an authority figure” / “you don’t get to decide that” is just like. embedded in my mind. just McCabe going no, you don’t get to run verbally either.

Do you ever think about how Arkady and McCabe had like, different kinds of fucked up childhoods compared to the rest of the crew. Like obviously McCabe ending up an agent so young and the stuff about their family suggests a pretty secure background, but it feels like the IGR and Dwarnian war starting when they were 12 gives them a kind of cynicism that meshes well with Arkady’s, in a way that’s distinct from how Arkady and Violet’s morbidness mesh, or Arkady and Sana’s pragmatism

ok more character feels under the cut

don’t scandalize the grandparents

A married man! 

Impressed he made it through the season with no baddies wrecking his oxygen

Always ready to point out that Arkady is actually as much of a nerd as he is

AKA I didn’t realize it was a Mozart reference till he said so. Arkady defies the jock-nerd chart

okay who of Arkady or Krejjh is gonna tell him about MMA fight outside, or did they do a whole team debrief. For Arkady’s sake I’m hoping not the latter, though I guess everyone else would like an explanation for McCabe’s gun-pointing??

likes solving problems without guns, would prefer solving them by FLYING SPACESHIPS 

Krejjh watches McCabe’s gun strategy work on Arkady and goes “do you folks really live like this?? why???”

I do love that their first thought on what to do next is to run a bunch of supplies around, probably between human populations that are going to be a wary at seeing a dwarnian show up. (Eat it, Eejjhgreb)

Kinda wonder if their feelings about getting choked out by their buddy are in fact more complicated than “it’s chill dude, please don’t do something stupid”

The cutest vow

who needs to calm down your crewmates with annoying words when you can just point a gun at them

Seriously where is the human-dwarnian war AU where it lasts longer or happens later where McCabe is the baby sniper posted to Arkady’s unit and they squabble a bunch (and perhaps kiss? When I wrote my third ever ficlet for this fandom never did I anticipate actually being interested in that)

what % of their Mirzakhani choice was thinking “what if Arkady tries to run from the goat farm and no one’s around to point a gun at her” jk jk

Their exclusion of Park from authority figures that didn’t disappoint them is fascinating. Is it that he left hoping for Shelly when it probably wasn’t her, or that he isn’t an authority figure anymore, a combination there of?

Or worst of all, is it that when he didn’t kill Krejjh back in 1x10, that really was a disappointment, no matter how much it might’ve been mixed with relief, and you can’t undo that moment?

What if they and Park talked. But I don’t think Park is going to goat planet, so that seems unlikely.

Their apology to Sana for heightened Martineau security! And Sana reiterating the profound gratefulness bit, gah

mostly read other people’s words and yet sparked consideration of two different OT3s, her power.

you know what, everyone deciding Sana is the best person to read words makes complete sense

There was one specific moment this episode that sent my mind into a tizzy about V/A/S, and it was Arkady going FINE GO ASK THE CAPTAIN THEN at how firm Violet was that Tripathi would be the one driving her, not Arkady.

I need you to understand that my V/A/S OT3 opinions are such that my shipping feels were more set off by that than Sana and Violet telling Arkady they were proud of her for choosing goat planet or whatever, like I don’t even know what dynamic was so captured by that argument, rip at Arkady having to be systems apart from them again

Though ofc my heart was buoyed by Sana’s earnest “Kady, you do more than that”, I want these two to go do a job together again, I miss that

To shift gears, I cannot believe “Lenny” started out as Sana being absolutely furious at the people threatening her crew and has ended up a teasing in-joke between her and Park, my Sana/Park shipping feels were very content. (When does Sana learn that Park didn’t get to hear the long list of fake crimes the Rumor crew specifically confessed to Lenny? This must be fixed. Tell him about the diamonds!)

Campbell said “Park, let me show you where we’ve been sleeping.” and my brain went. Wait. This is actually a good OT3?? Park is already unnerved by Sana’s earnest captaining, he should get unnerved by Campbell’s default magnanimity, please consider this

this is also where I point out that all these major characters have very convenient names for indicating ships solely via letters. V/A! B/K! S/P/C! This may solve my ot3 tagging problem...

get off that cotton candy boat, vi

Haha I loved that line from Doc Robinson she’s so no-nonsense, love Violet agreeing to work with her

Doc also said menders and I thought about this post again and also the team split and ahhh

But no, I very much liked Violet gently crushing Arkady’s goat farm dreams, and the two of them awkwardly discussing the very awkward stage things are at while still getting a feel for how the other operates

These nerds are trying and I’m still fond of them

at some point I was gonna make fun of Vi for not being able to drive before realising 1. she probably didn’t want to deprive the others of a vehicle 2. that would be incredibly hypocritical of me

wait does the igr have excellent public transport when they aren’t bombing it i take back every bad thing i’ve said abou-

*ahem* same question about the MMA fight debrief I had for Brian, it would be so funny if the situation was so rushed that like, Arkady+McCabe explain to Brian on the farm and Krejjh has to tackle everyone else

tick, tock, walking bomb, when it stops, nobody knows

arkady is so whumpable, and this show knows it

Redundant, but love how terrified of herself she is after hurting Krejjh and how strangely reassured she is by McCabe’s gun antics. And how she doesn’t like thinking of herself as an authority figure on the ship even though she literally is as First Mate

is ready to monologue about all major life events and the crew frickin knows it

is trying to help herself and stuff, still grumbling about it. in worse shape this season than last - probably all the constant discussion of the inevitable war just kept building stuff up and she kept ignoring it because haha who wants to deal with this prickly mess of a person haha

did i mention she’s the best

hope she gets her full goat farm dream one day, even if it’s not on actual goat farm

[kerra-and-company]

For Kerra’s 1st Birthday

So. You know how sometimes we imagine animatics in our heads that we never make? I did that, but I was picturing it in such detail that I wrote it down. I still don’t have the skills to animate or draw it, but I figured it might be a good birthday present for Kerra. :)

I’m a couple weeks or so late (very sorry, Ker!), but I’m counting it as her first birthday present. I’ve been playing this game for over a year now, which isn’t long compared to a lot of you, but I’ve definitely fallen in love with it, and I appreciate the community here on Tumblr, no matter how big it might or might not be. Thanks for a great first year, everyone. Love you guys, seriously <3

(I don’t know if this is going to be something other people are super interested in reading or not, but if you are, go for it--it’s under the cut! :) The song is Dirt Around The Tree by Candi Carpenter, and you can listen to it here or on Spotify if you want. Thanks again, folks. I appreciate you a lot.)

[Introductory music plays over brief intro text. Just before the beginning of the song, the text fades to dense clouds.]

I was born in the fall

 [The clouds clear, revealing Caledon. The camera/POV swoops through quickly in the direction of the Grove, with various recognizable places there visible as it does so.]

The season when everything is dying

 [Camera continues its swoop. If we look closely, we can see that it’s winter, or at least sometime cool, in Caledon. There’s no snow, but there’s frost, and many trees are missing leaves. Farms and gardens are bare.]

We must know what we're in for

 [Camera enters the Grove, skirting past the trunk of the Pale Tree and slowing down by pods of not-yet-awakened sylvari. It settles on one.]

That's why we come into this world crying

 [The pod splits open, and Kerra falls out. Nearby sylvari try to help her up, but she scrambles in an uncoordinated fashion to her feet, calling out Caithe’s name.]

 My mother always told me life's not fair

 [The Pale Tree in the Omphalos Chamber, arms open wide, eyes closed. On the word “life”, the camera cuts to Kerra in “Beneath a Cold Moon”, fighting Tiachren. On “not”, the camera cuts to Kerra standing over bodies, next to Caithe and various Wardens. One of the bodies is Tiachren’s. On “fair”, the camera cuts back to the Omphalos Chamber, but this time to Kerra alone. Caithe and Aife are just barely in the image (their shoulders at most), but the focus is on Kerra’s face—troubled and grieving but not quite crying.]

That's probably why I ran away

 [The camera spins back around so that we see Kerra looking at the Pale Tree. This time, she’s flanked by the three sylvari order reps, and Cai—the rep from the Order of Whispers—is holding her hand out. Kerra looks down at it. On “why”, the camera cuts to just their hands, clasped in a handshake. On “ran,” the camera cuts to Kerra and Tybalt on the mission to rescue Demmi. They’ve just opened the door to the room where Demmi was locked up, and Kerra’s holding her hand out to Demmi.]

I don't think that I felt safe at home

 [Camera zooms in on Kerra’s hand, going to brush her hair-leaves back. When it zooms back out, we see Kerra sitting next to Rel. They’re on the beaches of the Weeping Isle, and her mouth is open, like she’s saying the song lyrics. She’s more in silhouette here than a clear picture, and the focus is on Rel’s face. His forehead is furrowed as if in concern.]

And I don't think that's ever gonna change…

 [Kerra’s face comes into clearer focus, still mouthing the words, but this time she looks straight into the camera for a second. As the camera pans around her head, the landscape behind her changes to an airship. She starts to turn away from the camera on the word “ever”, and by “change”, she’s facing away, and we can see her standing at the front of an airship alongside Destiny’s Edge, flying to confront Zhaitan. Kerra’s wearing a long coat now, brown with just-visible green embroidery, and it flaps in the breeze.]

 Tell me, what's at the root of all my guilt and anger?

 [The image blurs as the camera zooms towards the ground and under it. We see roots, twisting and shifting, twining together.]

What's in the dirt around the tree?

 [The camera pans up, more slowly this time so the image is clear. We exit the ground, passing through the levels of the Grove, ending on the plaza in the center where the Pale Tree’s leaves spiral up towards the Omphalos Chamber.]

Heartbreak runs in the family

 [Three images. The first is the Pale Tree, eyes down and half-closed. She looks pained. On “runs”, the image shifts to Caithe, with shiny eyes and a shadowy Faolain behind her, side by side with Trahearne, who’s holding Caladbolg with a gaze that’s both tired and far away. On “family”, the image shifts to Kerra, still in the same outfit from the airship, but with a dark background. Her eyes are wide and unsure.]

That's why I'm still running from me.

 [The camera zooms out to show two Kerras, now, separated by just enough distance that they’d have to move closer to touch (so maybe a couple meters or so). The first is Kerra as a sapling, in her sylvari armor, and the second is Kerra in her airship outfit. They each look at the camera. On the word “running”, they turn to each other. On “me”, the second Kerra turns away and takes a step away from the first.]

 [On the instrumentals, Kerra steps from the black void into the snow, her bow on her back and Felix beside her. She looks worn and tired, her coat torn. She walks from there into a house with Nisha (with a stack of letters), and she smiles. When she leaves the house, her wardrobe changes from brown to blue, and she walks into Southsun, facing Canach and then meeting with him in his cell after. Other images flow after, briefly—her and Dragon’s Watch facing Scarlet, then the party with the nobles, then facing Aerin. Finally, it settles on them all together before the summit, waiting below the Omphalos Chamber for the dignitaries to arrive.]

 I read that trauma is genetic

 [The camera pans up to the Omphalos Chamber, which is under attack by the Shadow of the Dragon. We focus on the Shadow first as it roars (on the word “trauma”) and bares its teeth, and then we pan to Kerra’s face on “genetic”. She’s terrified—but she’s terrified of what the Shadow means, not that she can’t defeat it.]

Who was the first to hand it down?

 [Brief flashes of scenes again. Kerra briefly trying to help her Mother as menders run towards them on “Who”, Kerra-as-Caithe (and Nisha alongside her) watching Wynne’s confession on “first”, Trahearne giving the order to fire on “hand”, and airships falling over Maguuma on “down”.]

Was it my grandpa or his father?

 [Kerra, wearing her HoT clothes, standing beside Canach and Caithe to face Mordremoth, the camera fully focusing on him as of the word “grandpa” and leaving them as silhouettes with weapons at his feet.]

You can't ask someone who ain't around

 [Kerra running to Trahearne while he’s trapped in Mordremoth’s vines and hanging above the ground, grabbing his hand in hers. On “someone”, the image melts into Kerra holding Caladbolg out in Mordremoth’s mindscape, alone. She’s pointing it at a large seed, and Trahearne’s silhouette is behind her. She’s protecting him. On “ain’t”, Kerra begins to glow purple, and the image fades to brightness and then Mordremoth’s power exploding through the jungle, like the cutscene in canon, implying his death.]

 Tell me, what's at the root of all my guilt and anger?

 [Again, like before in the first iteration of the chorus, the camera blurs as we zoom down to roots, shifting and intertwining, but this time we can see clearly that they’re growing, too.]

What's in the dirt around the tree?

 [Again, we pan through the levels of the Grove to reach the centerpoint with the spiral branches and leaves of the Pale Tree.]

Heartbreak runs in the family

 [And again, we have the three sets of images, but they’re slightly different. The Pale Tree is dimmer, clearly wounded and in pain even if the wounds themselves are not visible. The shadow of Faolain looks like the Mordrem version of her, and Caladbolg is shattered. Kerra’s in her HoT outfit now, with nicks in a few of her leaves. She’s not much different physically, but something in her expression makes her look older.]

That's why I'm still running from me.

 [And last but not least for repeats, we enter the blank void again, but there are three Kerras this time—sapling-Kerra, Zhaitan-Kerra, and HoT-Kerra. They all start off looking at the camera. On “running”, sapling-Kerra and Zhaitan-Kerra look at HoT-Kerra, and she looks back at them. On “me”, she turns and takes a step away from them.]

 [Instrumentals follow, and the steps turn into a full-on run as she crashes into Canach and Nisha’s arms, laughing. Her outfit switches to her LWS3 one as she swings from their arms to Tarir, watching Aurene hatch and pulling her close. Caithe is in that image too, awe and faint affection on her face. As the deeper strings are overrun with lighter notes, a few scenes flicker by—Lazarus awakening, the battle with Caudecus, Balthazar’s reveal. The strings reach a high note as Kerra is shown on the airship to Elona, her clothes changing again to those she wears in PoF. Vlast’s death is shown, a bright light and Balthazar and crystals, followed by Kerra in Kesho and then a flash of her traversing the desert on her raptor. The notes begin to downswing into the bridge as the battle on the mountaintop comes into focus, Kerra fighting Balthazar hand-to-hand with Caladbolg, and on the final few notes, we see him slash down at her where she’s lying, barely breathing, on the ground. There’s darkness, and on the last note, she opens her eyes in the Domain of the Lost. They’re red.]

 I wanna be more than a lost little girl

 [Spirit-Kerra takes a step forward. She picks her bow up off the ground on “be”, meeting Nenah’s eyes as her guide gestures towards a hill. Glowing blue silhouettes of memories are visible in the distance, but only just barely. On “lost”, we see the full image of Kerra looking towards the hill, determined.]

I'm gonna grow up someday

 [The camera shows Kerra climbing the mountain, past various memory images. Some we’ve seen in the video, some we haven’t. In the last image, right on/after the word “someday”, we can see Caladbolg at Kerra’s side.]

Maybe I'll plant another family tree

 [Kerra pauses at a memory of her with her partners. It’s not one we’ve seen before, but they’re all smiling at something or someone the memory doesn’t show. Canach’s arm is around Kerra’s waist, Nisha’s is around her shoulder, and she’s holding them both. On “another”, she reaches out as if to touch it but stops just before she does.]

Somewhere far, far away

 [Kerra continues and reaches the top of the mountain. The memory there is Aurene, still very much a baby, desperately trying to protect Kerra, and then being wrapped in chains. She looks at the image for a few seconds, blue light giving her face an eerie cast, before grasping Caladbolg’s hilt and nearly leaping down the mountain on “away”.]

 [As the music upswings to the final chorus/verse, Kerra bows to the Judge, slashes through the Eater of Souls, and rushes past a very irritated Joko into the portal back to Tyria.]

 Far from the root of all my guilt and anger

 [The light from the portal fades into a cloudless sky and a vast desert. On “guilt”, the camera pans over to the mountain where Kerra fought Balthazar. Wisps of smoke still come from it, but they’re faint. We can see figures on the mountain, but not well enough to determine features (though if you’ve played PoF you could guess who most of them are).]

Blood in the dirt and on the leaves

 [The words describe what we’re seeing. Kerra’s blood is on the sandy dirt of the mountaintop, and it’s splattered in specks on her hair-leaves and face.]

Tell me, what's at the root of all my guilt and anger?

 [On “Tell”, Kerra opens her eyes wide. They’re faint purple, as they should be. On “me” she sits up straight, gasping. As the rest of the phrase plays out, we see what she is seeing as her gaze tracks across her friends. Kasmeer, Rytlock…Canach and Nisha. Kasmeer has a tentative but disbelieving smile on her face. Rytlock looks very much like “what the fuck”.]

Am I who I'm supposed to be?

 [There’s a beat while Kerra stares at Canach and Nisha and they stare back at her, but on “supposed”, her partners reach their hands out to her. She looks back at them, wide-eyed, like she’s about to cry.]

Heartbreak runs in the family

 [On the musical downswing, the image fades into current Kerra in the blank void. Just her, no one else. She’s sitting on the ground, in clothing that’s damaged and burned, with too-bright eyes.]

That's why I'm still running from me.

 [There’s six Kerras in total now, in a line as they’ve been in the previous choruses, but all but the first and the last fade into the background on “me”, leaving just sapling-Kerra and PoF-Kerra to stare at each other across the distance of the blank void. Both sitting, both very different. The distance is much larger than a meter.]

Heartbreak runs in the family

 [The three picture sets flash, but this time they’re interspersed with Canach and Nisha moving towards Kerra, and they’re different now. On “Heart-”, the image of the Pale Tree is of her with the Menders, giving them a faint smile. On “break”, we see Canach and Nisha taking a step forward. On “runs”, we see Caithe holding a tiny Aurene in her arms, and they both look overjoyed. Trahearne no longer has Caladbolg and his face is scarred to look half-Mordrem, but he’s standing next to Rel, who’s laughing as he kisses the back of Trahearne’s hand. On “the”, we fully fade back to the mountaintop, and Canach and Nisha take another step forward before throwing Kerra into their arms. At the end of this line, we see Kerra crying and holding them tight, with Kas wiping her own tears away and Rytlock starting to laugh with unexpected relief.]

Why am I still running from me?

 [Slowly, the image fades back into sapling-Kerra and PoF-Kerra in the void, staring at each other. PoF-Kerra is still crying, but on “me”, she smiles, too.]

 [As the final instrumentals play out, both of them stand up. They run toward each other, and they meet in the middle with a tight hug, burying their faces in each other’s shoulder.]

 [THE END]

[daekie-gw2]

thats my secret captain. theyre all trans

commander della fearflight, she/her, trans woman. united with canach in being the sanest person in dragon’s watch by some definitions. (canach is also trans) also a “living” leyline nexus, a lich, and aurene’s mom/champion. and a stress baker. 

svess, it/its. i have vague notions about asura gender but i think its kind of like all those posts abt dwarf gender and asura primarily using he/him or she/her is mostly like. a translation thing from asuran where they don’t really Have 100% inherently explicitly gendered first person terms? like japanese personal pronouns. i think asuran is like that. taimi’s girlfriend. druid member of a vigil strike squad called Laranthir’s Headache: they get the job done but oh, god, the collateral damage is incredible. names all its pets after food (pasta the tiger, soup the wyvern, salad the iboga, etc). LOVES gorrik, that’s its bff, they infodump back and forth at each other infinitely and nobody else in dragon’s watch except taimi gets it

nelvey, ve/vem/vers, neutrois. so the inquest left a baby on sandswept isles and the olmakhan went ‘holy shit that’s a baby. our baby now go away’ and then that baby became a scourge (or ve’s training to be one anyway). cracks all ver joints and sounds like a glowstick all the time. eyes are luminescent in the dark. usually wears a bone headpiece to mimic the horns of the olmakhan :>

meditrix trilli, he/him, trans man. inquest medic. allergic to avocados. has avoided being poisoned in the inquest anyway by virtue of He Is Your Fucking Medic. Do You Want Him To Heal You Or Not. horrible little man who will perform gender affirming surgery on you after kidnapping you and pouring concrete into your bones. obsessed with krait

astriferre, she/her, trans woman. sylvari gender is ??? but she did see a human woman as a sapling and go Yeah I Want That. was a priory scribe before her gf found out she was the commander’s daughter, ended up getting pulled along by proxy to the front lines and joined the crystal bloom. so tall. really does not do combat but she’s a great chronomancer, so...

eithwn, she/her, from beyond elona. not a girl <3 no more questions <3 funny daredevil who does a mean kickflip. a sunspear, but generally calls herself an ally of the sunspears. 

nickel, they/it, gender ???. perma-melded with a fire wyvern due to inquest experiments (same reason they have a prosthetic jaw) so i play them as a soulbeast, but in-universe is a daredevil. crushing horribly on yao. commander’s pet project bc their health is kind of wacky. kind of a defensive misanthrope but not ultimately that dangerous if not provoked. sharing a body with...

nico bathory, they/them, agender. originally owned the body but is doing pretty well post-split, all things considered. does want to know if you can revenant channel your headmate though if it was made from your brain. used to be an engi. working with yao to learn jadetech, flirting very sincerely with detective rama. runs a book club. chronic insomniac, chronic gossip, LOVES people in general.

i have some other neopronoun users in the bank (cee the ex-mordremvari herald is it/she/they, her sibling aes - grove mender - is he/they, spirit shaman dagmar lonecaller is shi/hir, mists-touched virtuoso adelaide is she/they) but these are my Main Folks on the They Are Doing So Gender spectrum

Hey GW2 peeps hit me up with your trans characters o/

Drop a picture, tell me about them, whatever you like!

[tribus-mantodea]

[ Lingering attachments. ]

Right! I’m sure there’s an AU about this somewhere already that I haven’t found but you know what, I’ll have my take on it regardless.

This post is just some considerations on the AU where the Traitor Lord lives once more through lifeblood shenanigans. (Awkwardly dubbed as “Lastlifeborn AU” because... it’s the Lastborn’s last life. Yeah, I know.)

I also have no idea how to interpret lifeblood so I’ll put that matter aside.

It would be a bit fun to entertain the idea of the dream-ghosts of Cloth and Traitor “speaking” after their due battle just before she finished savoring the moment. While he does hold some implacable resentment (embrace the infection to become stronger and yet for what? being unable to better protect his kin like he had intended? what was it that put these silly-meaningless thoughts in his head, his heart?), he does hold respect for Cloth and the Ghost first and foremost for beating him in an impromptu duel.

“I’m glad to have fought a mighty warrior like you.” “...” (But he wasn’t one. Unlike the other Lords, he had cheated and lost his way.) “For one outside of my tribe, you battled well.” There’s a lot of awkward pauses and general recollection, the Traitor trying to sort out what had just occurred and what had happened before all this.

Maybe the Ghost comes back in time to not both of them, but at least the Traitor staring at both his victor’s and his own’s bodies. It would seem to remember something—pulling out the Mark of Pride charm and showing it to him. See conflict cross his features, how he nodded as if he then understood something it didn’t.

And the Ghost is quite the mender of a bug itself. It’s compelled to try and resolve something that seems rather unresolvable; it breaks cocoons and cradles all these wiggling lifeseeds in arms and forcibly attempts to get the Traitor’s husk moving again. Said dream-ghost Traitor at first regarding the situation dismissively before growing into a strained panic and worry of “Cease your actions! What compels you to desecrate my corpse—?...” “Just how many did you manage to bring with your small stature...?” (It would’ve been more deserved if his body were to be broken into segments much like the others. His mind feels hazier as if overcome with fatigued the longer it tries, and...)

What. Why is this little bug back in his view and why does he feel so. Tired. Oh. The Traitor... does not deserve this, no, unless this was his punishment to burden the weight of his own sins, but it’s ultimately uncomfortable—he died twice already in removing his title and in true battle. (His body felt wrong before for different reasons, but it felt even worse now that he’s reminded of the air and his other senses.)

And the Ghost does its best to try and point him in a direction it wants him to go. Incessantly tries. But he shook his head, clicked, said aloud that he’d resolved to return to the village and accept the sentence that should have been given when he was deposed. (Imprisonment. Death.) It’s only then does the Ghost no longer tries to point him in a direction (and how strange; was this the same way it pointed its nail?) and accompanies him the... the entire way...

It’s not that long of a trek, no, though his mind is clouded with all sorts of thoughts and regrets. He’d seen his Daughter’s grave for the last time. (The little warrior seemed to insist on giving him a flower, but even when he did finally accept if only to appease it, he’d merely set it back by the grave.) He’d seen his reflection in the pools of acid, the glow of an unnatural cerulean he does not remember seeing unlike the festerous cloud of orange. And... the occasional husks of what had been the split of his tribe.

The village is far quieter than his memories. It is a complicated feeling to see the mantids that watch with both confusion and hissing resentment, those that knew of him formerly and those that did not. Perhaps it must look like a show? To observe how the honored outsider escorts the depose Lord, a beast thought mindless returning in its newly sickening form with not the sweet-sickly orange, but a dim blue glow of what they vaguely remember other bugs considering as taboo (how funny of them to worship and pray to begin with). His thoughts grew louder; he wondered if he could ever make amends. He figures it all in vain. That’s fine, really.

...One thing led to another. The summary is that he does not die, and is “punished” to live with his decisions after it is thoroughly seen he is remorseful (to an extent). It does take a long while for this family to sort out their issues properly though.

Bonus side-note is that the Ghost can be treated as part of said family (but not really, but also hey look its horns are notched twice just like the Traitor’s and—)

Bonus reactions to said return:

The First just wants to know why it happened, so she can reflect and see where the both of them (mostly herself) had went wrong. Her own regrets she’d shouldered still smolder long after all the initial anger and confusion. Considering there’s only so many of them left, she just wants to hear him out (and oh, how strange-wrong it is to hear the difference in his voice now, to see him taller but with the lack of pride from before). In the end, she’s... relieved, almost, to see him the way he is now considering how she longed to revisit old things. Not that they could still return to them. But, well, new interactions to unfold, lots of baggage to pack.

The Second’s the one who’s most expressively upset. Frustrated that she cannot take her pains out on him as when she’d forced his claws to a duel, it was more than clear that his heart wasn’t in it (how disrespectful; how dare he seem so inclined to let the end of her nail-lance sink deep and through). She’d always known him to be a great fighter, so the reasoning behind him embracing the infection was more than just insulting as a betrayal. She despises the more passive behavior (this wasn’t the brother she remembered, what had happened to the hint of deserving arrogance he once bore?) and most of all, resents herself for not having done something more given the more responsibility their eldest took on.

The Third is uncharacteristically quiet, unsure and sorting out her emotions just like before (but managing to unintentionally, somehow, be the coldest towards him). She’s always been aware that while he did seek counsel, most often asking the eldest, he also disliked relying on anyone else and she never minded that, no. She felt as if she knew why he’d left. But in knowing what happened to her niece and the other, closer followers that had looked up to him, it was difficult for her to figure out how to respond to him in knowing the losses sustained. It’s... she eventually decides, though, to accept with resignation. He’s dealt with their other sisters and the disdain of the village and would continue to do so (probably). She’s just happy to have him back even despite the changes. She can at least... try, to not make the transition jarring by having even herself different in behavior. Sort of.

-

Redacted consideration was that he’d lose most if not all of the memories during his time of being infected because while it’d be fun for him to think that nothing more than him waking up in a random location happened and then seeing the husks of his tribe(?) along with “Whose grave is this?” and returning to the village almost as if nothing happened, the sisters would have a Horrendous Time alongside the Traitor if he by chance was then told of what happened.

anyways my AUs are to be self-indulgent, not to combust spontaneously :D I probably amplified the inferiority issue a bit too much here but Welp

alright bonus-bonusnonsense below:

little ghost does crimes. shoves lifeseeds into husk (in which some lifeseeds happily run away into said husk to get away from the chance of dying by tiny bug)

bug tries to slap mark of pride charm onto the former traitor lord

aand this:

It watches as he idles a moment longer, bowing his head towards the marked grave of his late Child. Quietly it comes closer, hesitantly, and reaches out—rests its hand onto his side and gently curls its fingers into his cloak. He does not move. So the vessel tilts its head, sits. Decides to wait for him—and rest. (aka it’d be quite nice, you know, to imagine the trek back where the Ghost doesn’t forcibly try to understand the dude, but is a sort of comfort... or maybe... just... a reaper, escorting him to his death. but then jokes on you big man it’s a friend!!)

[rudemaidenswrite]

Can I Join You?

Part 2

BY: @pusantheamazonian

Fandom: Stranger Things          Jim Hopper X Reader

Part 1

It's been a few days since the carnival ended and your brother has left for the next town. And you have not seen nor heard from Jim either. You knew it was just a fling that would never get off the ground. He has a teenager at home. That alone will cause more chaos than trying to get back into the dating scene. So in a weird angry habit, you decided to bake cookies when you got off work.

El’s curiosity is still high about Y/N. With a plan she hides in the bathroom after school with Max guarding the door. Sitting on the floor, the radius tuned to static, faucets running and a handkerchief over her eyes. Taking deep slow breaths she's able to focus and locate Y/N. 

In the black nothingness Y/N appears, standing alone in a kitchen. Walking closer El is able to tell you're making cookies and singing along to the radio.

"Y/N?" El whispers but your sudden turn towards her threw off the connection. "Damnit!"

"You okay?" Max poke her head in.

"I'm fine." Grumbling El pulls the handkerchief down. 

"Did you find her?" Max asks sitting next to El.

"Yes, she even looked at me like she heard me."

"Weird. So what now?"

"Time to see her."

~

Opening the door you're surprised to see Jane for several reasons. 

1. It's a school night. 

2. You didn't tell Jim where you live. 

3. This was not how you expected to officially meet her.

"Jane what are you doing here?" Confused you are staring at a determined thirteen year old.

"Visiting. May come in?"

"Okay… does your father know you're here?" Absently you move to the side and let her in.

"Do you have any cookies?"

 "Yeah, why don't you sit at the table. I'll get you some. Do you want some milk?" Pointing off to the side at the table.  You instantly know that this child is smarter than she leads people to believe. 

"Yes please." 

You watch her sit at the table and wait for you. Jane stares at everything. Placing the milk and cookies in front of her you should probably know the real reason she's here.

"Jane-"

"El." She quickly interrupts while picking up a cookie.

"What?"

"I go by El."

"Ok El.” Sitting across from her you pick up your own cookie. “Do you want to tell me the real reason you hitchhiked 18 miles after school to my place?"

You watch her nervously curl inwards before responding.

"Dad and history class." 

"Why don't we start with history class." You quickly pick option two.

El nods and pulls out her book and folder. 

"There's a test next week and I don't understand anything." Handing you an outline. "Dad sucks at helping me with homework."

"Growth and Expansion is basically about the major changes in the U.S. during the 1800’s. So the Industrial Revolution, the changing role of government, and development of foreign policy." Moving to a chair closer you keep the outline handy.

As you go over the information with her you lose all complete track of time. You just happen to look at the clock to see the time.

"Shit!"

"What?" Frightened El looks for the danger.

"It's almost seven. We gotta get you home." You are up and out the chair. You need a plan.

"Why?"

"Why? El it's a school night and I bet you didn't tell your dad you were going to be home late." You're trying to process the carelessness of this child. Jim is in over his head. 

"I did not."

"Well do you want me to call him so he can come get you or you want me to take you home?" 

"Can you take me?" El pleads with her best frowny face.

"Yes but you'll have to give me directions."

"Okay." El packs her stuff up while you make her a snack baggie for tomorrow. That's filled with cookies and a separate bag for Jim. 

In the car El stares out the window bobbing along to the music. 

"So what is going on with your dad that you had to see me?" Reaching you turn the music down. Time to bite the bullet. 

"He likes you but thinks that I don't understand the complications of dating a single parent. He is being chicken. Mike explained it to me."

"You've definitely thought about this." Well if that’s not a child being a wingman you don't know what is. She definitely cares about his happiness. 

"It would be nice to see someone regularly at home. He works late and forgets the time."

"Well you'll just have to light a fire under his ass. In my experience single parents are the slowest moving people ever. Stubborn and grumpy." Chuckles you spare a glance.

"Your experience?"

"I was raised by a single dad too. Growing up it was just dad, my two older brothers and me." Reaching into your purse and pulling out your wallet. You open it to the pictures and hand it over.

"Mom?" El slowly flips through them.

"Don't know. She left one day, decided that she didn't want a family anymore." Shrugging it’s an odd thing that has always bugged you. 

"Sorry."

"Don't be dad eventually remarried and I got an awesome new mom and a little brother." You motion for her to keep flipping.

"New mom?"

"Yes."

"Mama… is not well. Dad let's me visit every couple of weeks. She lives with Aunt Becky."  Frowning, she puts your wallet back in your purse.

"It's nice that you visit her. I bet it makes her happy even if she can't show it."

"I hope so." She gives you a small hopeful smile.

El has you driving to the outskirts of Hawkins. Alongside a gravel road, turning onto a hidden dirt driveway. Pulling up you see the cabin setting on the hill.  You also see Jim walking frustratedly to his truck.

"He beat you home."

"Shit." She whispers seeing him too.

Honking your horn, he turns around making eye contact. As you nod to the passenger seat. There's a wave of relief for a split second before he walks closer.

"Next time you need help with homework. Just tell me, it's dangerous to be walking alone." You make sure to say loudly once you both are out of the car. Hoping to dampen the punishment.

"Jane." Jim grumbles, angrily throwing his cigarette. 

"See stubborn and grumpy. Just like I said." Nodding at him you give her a wink.

El laughs. "I like her." Jim sends El a furious look, which causes her to head directly inside. "Bye Y/N."

"Bye." Waving you watch her head up the hill before walking to Jim who has started pacing. "She's a firecracker but a good one." 

"Thanks for bringing her home. Where did you find her?" Huffing he runs a hand through his hair, still trying to calm down. 

"I opened my door and there she was. Don't know how she figured out where I lived."

"God… thanks again."

"No problem and here." Diverting his attention you hand him the bag.

"Cookies?"

"Yeah I was making some before El showed up. It's like the smell drew her in."

"I'm surprised."

"About what?" Confused, why would he be surprised? You're a decent person of course you brought her home. 

"Jane's very standoffish, won't interact unless she likes you and knows you're a good person."

"Oh! Well that's a good thing, not wanting to be involved with bad people." Nodding that's understandable. 

"She likes you, be prepared to see her randomly." Shaking his head in disbelief. 

"That's okay we can talk about our feelings again."

"You talked about feelings?" 

You watch him visibly pause. Apparently it never occurred to him that El would want to talk about feeling to someone else.

"Yeah like how she wants you to be happy because you want her to be happy. Also about how single dads are stubborn and grumpy all the time."

"That's what that comment was about? I'm not grumpy and stubborn all the time."  Scoffing he straightens up.

"I doubt it, I know the grumpy and stubborn attitude pretty well." Teasing you mender back to your car. Leaving him to his own devices.

"How?"

"Like minds think alike. I was raised by a single father." Winking you climb into the driver’s seat.

~

In your comfiest pajamas and ready for bed, you're finishing up with brushing your teeth when there's a banging on the front door. It's almost 10pm, you didn't plan on anyone coming out. Looking out the peephole, you're surprised to see who it is. 

"Jim? What are-" Opening the door you don't know what to say.

Cutoff, Jim's mouth is on yours. Hands hold you close as he backs into the nearest wall. Your hands find their way into his hair. Pressed closely, you can taste the lingering cigarette. 

"You came all this way for a smooch?" Pulling away you can't help but to smile. 

"....Yes?"

"Uh huh. You know I'm not buying that, right?" It's obvious to you that he had no set plan. 

"I figured you would." Shrugging he keeps a flirty smile. "What would you say if I said that I had to see you tonight."

"I would say that you're probably crazy because I look like a goblin." Saying that you realize you should probably let go of him. 

"No you don't. I'm the mess. I have no idea how to raise a teenage girl and I've been a grumpy father for years."

"If you say so.” Chuckling it's becoming clear how much El acts like him. “You know the police showing up late at night to my place is going to start gossip."

"Why don't we give them something to actually talk about?" In boldness he steals another kiss. 

"Well I'm no expert on firearms but I do know that's not a gun in your pocket."

"And the cheesy wisecracks." With a defeated sigh he head falls into the crook of your neck.

"Don't expect anything less. I have my own repriatore of dad jokes." Pulling on his collar to redirect his attention. "If you're looking for a hint my bedroom is the door on the left." Nodding down the short hall.

Next thing you know, you're looking at the floor and his ass. It's a short trip, inside he shuts the bedroom door with his foot as he dumps you on the bed. Scooting upwards you pull him with you. There’s no way in hell you're letting him escape without something happen.

"Fuck. Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?" Mumbling he kisses his way down your throat. Stifling a whine, you're beginning to lose all coherent thought processes. Just his presence makes you feel all tingly. 

"Do you know how hard it was not to kiss you outside the restaurant?" Delighted in this turn of events. You make your own little confession. Now is not the time for soft, slow romance. This is needy, rough lovin that you both so clearly need. 

[siennachristine-monat]

Fixing Split Ends

Rejuvabeads Split End Mender on ends and broken pieces after every shower.

Unknot Detangler that treats and conditions as well as detangles.

Use a wet brush.

Braid hair, then comb Restore Leave-In Conditioner through the end of the braid.

Ditch the cotton towel for microfiber. (Cotton can cause brittle, dry hair and breakage on the micro hooks of the fabric.)

x