#thief's apprentice

[one-bunny-a-day]

15/01/2023

Justice bunny

[jayfrost-designs]

And here's the best kitty husband himself, the gloriously floofy Cloudtail! :D

For his physical description, Cloudtail is described as being a heavy tom with fluffy, thick, long fur. I headcanon that Cloudtail has the longest fur in the Clans, with Yellowfang and Daisy as close seconds. It makes more sense that way to me, as the Clan's reaction to him as a kit could then be less about his fur being white and more about it being ridiculously ridiculously long. While Daisy's long fur is more shaped and regal-looking, and Yellowfang's is heavy and dense like a persian, Cloudtail's is just long, long, long and kind of just hangs off him every which way. He's a big boy on top of that, so at a first glance in battle he's probably pretty intimidating.

For his pattern, Cloudtail is described as a white tom with blue eyes.

Overall, I'm really really happy with how he turned out, I think I finally got across what his fur looks like in my head in a satisfactory way. :D

[recallback-art]

Day 17: D&D Alignment Chart

I was so relieved I finished this I almost forgot I also have to post it. This was a hard one, I had to really comb through my brain for who fit what that wasn't already a D&D character.

[tallymarksystem]

Did I just impulsively make another discord server? Yeah maybe.

I've made a book club server! I've started re-reading a list of books I've loved in the past and I want to talk to people about them, so if you've read any of the following books, are interested in them, or want to hear me talk about them, here's my current list: Deltora Quest, The Magic Thief, Ranger's Apprentice, The Paladin Prophecy, and Foundling. The list will absolutely expand, and feel free to recommend books :]

[cupidscatdesigns]

Willowpelt | Blue silver ticked tabby tricolour

silhouette behind her is Firestar for size reference

lazy eye in reference to her being described as having "unusual" blue eyes

same red patches as Redtail, but with different stripes on tail. symmetrical, with the exception of the front leg, where the patch cuts off at the elbow.

droopy fur & eyelashes to mimic willow leaves

fangs because her father is Adderfang, and it only feels right that some of his kits get his fangs

same big ears and similar muzzle & brows to her littermates

similar body to leopardfoot, just a bit stockier

thicker shoulders that taper off into thin arms

firestar is short; willowpelt is just shorter than average. taller than redtail & spottedleaf, shorter than leopardfoot

[thelittlestspider]

it would be funny if peter, johnny, natasha, and felicia all worked at nelson and murdock while barely concealing their secret identities.

[bertilak-writes]

The Thief

??? | Pinterest

Everybody has a price. Theirs is just unusually low.

The Thief can shapeshift. A rare talent that makes them all the more dangerous. In their default form they’re tall and slender. Hair bleached and eyes wild, with a crooked grin that appears just as quick as it falls.

You don’t know who they work for. But you do know that they have answers.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Arsene Lupin AU! Arsene Lupin AU! Reisi (or Izumo) doing the elegant thief thing. Ridia, what do you think?

Ooh I really like the idea of Gentleman Thief Munakata, I feel like he would really enjoy this kind of role XD Imagine this as like his double life too, like he’s a proper government official by day and a thief by night. Munakata enjoys working outside the law though he also considers himself a force for justice, his thievery is often in pursuit of righting wrongs or punishing the unjust. I imagine him being really smooth as a thief too, just imagine him with a cape (he absolutely has a cape and swirls it around dramatically constantly) and a top hat, plotting elaborate heists. He leaves a sparkling calling card when he’s intending to do a job, because he finds it most amusing when there’s a little challenge to his jobs.

I could see Munakata really enjoying most complex heists and seemingly ‘impenetrable’ safehouses, like he looks at every security setup as something of a puzzle that he alone can solve. Imagine him stealing some valuable artwork that has a secret code hidden inside which he needs in order to reveal a corrupt government official, the artwork is stored in a locked room in the museum with only the best security devices around it. Munakata uses his position as a government official to visit during the day, quietly memorizing the entire layout of the museum with only a glance, making small talk with the curator and even charming the guards so that he can get the best idea of what this job will entail. Then after leaving he doubles back and secretly leaves his calling card as he spends the rest of the day prepping for his magnificent heist. The museum is surrounded by cops and then Munakata just appears in the spotlights on the roof, bowing and doffing his hat as he says it is a shame but he must be off with the artwork, which he has already stolen. The police are dumbfounded and Munakata is just proud and victorious, this was as always a most enjoyable challenge. 

[renegade--soul498]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Plague Tale (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucas & Amicia de Rune, Mélie & Amicia de Rune, Lucas/Amicia de Rune, Mélie/Amicia de Rune, Lucas & Mélie (A Plague Tale) Characters: Amicia de Rune, Mélie (A Plague Tale), Lucas (A Plague Tale) Additional Tags: Drinking, Unrequited Love, Amicia finds her friends but at what cost, love rivals, Mélie being her sassy self, Drunk Lucas is trying so hard only to fail, Comedy, Post-Canon Summary:

A thief and an alchemist find themselves in a tavern.

..and the absurdity of their situation makes their crush wish she didn't know them.

[theroundbartable]

Camelot is hit with an amnesia spell to forget their prince. The sorcerer's goal was to make sure Camelot doesn't have an heir.

So, Arthur wakes up, one day, with no servants serving him ane being treated like a thief who invaded the castle.

Not even Morgana, Gwen, or Merlin recognise him and Merlin is apparently not even a servant anymore. Just a full time physician's apprentice.

Arthur: Merlin, I know you don't remember me. No one does, but I'm Prince Arthur!

Merlin: *suspicious* Camelot doesn't have a prince

Arthur: You have to believe me!!! I don't know what kind of spell would do this, but you have to help me!!! Well, technically, I need Gaius help, but you're my best friend and I can't do this without you!

Merlin: aha. I'm not saying I believe you, but I wouldn't mind helping you overthrow the King

Arthur: No, that's not what I- ... What?

Merlin: is that not what this is about? You wanting to be prince? I'll help you if you want. You can't be as bad as Uther.

Arthur: excuse me?

Merlin: you can't be telling me you like Uther. You just told me you want me to find a spell to make you prince.

Arthur: no! I wouldn't go that far- what would you even know about magic?

Merlin: *grabs Arthur by the chin to glare at him threateningly* Nothing *viciously* Obviously. And if I did, you'd be dead if you learned of it

Arthur: *actually intimidated* I-

Merlin: *turning away* I'll do the dirtywork for you, Arthur, was it? In exchange, I need you to lift the ban on magic

Arthur: you can't seriously ask me that -

Merlin: I'm not asking. That's my condition.

Arthur: ... What on earth is going on?

[fanaticsnail]

Cross-Guild Masterlist

Navigation Masterlist Here

Art link

Buggy D. Clown:

You Kissed the Clown? (15/15 Series)

An upper-class tinkerer finds herself amongst the crew of the Staw-Hat pirates. Falling within the blast of a giant flash of red smoke and captured with her crew in the claws of the Buggy Pirates; she is confronted by her flight, fight and freeze response. Immediately, she finds another way of distracting the infamous clown-captain: a passionate and disarming kiss. As time and distance fall between them, feelings of romance, infatuation, fascination and longing cling to the clown and the tinkerer in each other's absence. How could they feel so deeply for each other; they only shared one single kiss?

Happy Birthday, Pumpkin (one-shot)

Buggy longs to kiss you but always shies away in case his affection is not reciprocated. Finally, an opportunity presents itself for a consequence-free kiss and he can barely hold himself back in anticipation. Happy birthday!

I Can't Do This Without You (one-shot)(smut)

Buggy attempted to use some unusual, waxy pollen to form into a "buggy-ball". He was an idiot. He can't manage the consequences without his loyal and ever faithful crewmate to help him out.

A Small Kindness (Smut One-Shot)

A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.

Headcanons & Drabbles:

Soft-Dom BuggyBratty BuggyCross-Guild InterrogationThe Clown Apologises

Buggy x Reader x Mihawk:

Swing, Sway, Shag, Smimmy (Buggy x Reader x Mihawk) (4/4)

Buggy is infatuated with his prized acrobat. He issues a dance night-off for his pirate crew, choosing to "make a move" in the hopes of charming his beautiful acrobat under the hawk-like gaze of his guest of honour. Unbeknownst to Buggy, the feeling of infatuation is mutual regarding the acrobat. Can they learn to 'play nice' to woo the acrobat? Yes, yes they can.

Dracule Mihawk:

The Apprentice (6/7 Series)

Mihawk is a bitchy boss, the apprentice is his bratty underling. Professionalism, sword-mastery and affiliation for wine consumption drives their relationship.Mihawk pushed his apprentice a little too far, prompting her to submit a formal resignation effective immediately. Calling her bluff, he attempts to chaperone her towards a cellar door to begin an afternoon of wine-tasting, only to find absence at his side as his apprentice simply walked away from him. And he was angry about it.Ongoing series.

You Should Be Sad (Completed Series):

Upon rising to the title of Warlord and Worlds-Greatest-Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk began to neglect his fiancé and her desires. Unable to provide her with the one thing she truly longed for, he remained apathetic as she broke from their lengthy courtship.A decade later, and many a bottle of brandy relinquished, he drifts to Baratie in hopes of drowning away the memory of her: only to have his hopes shattered as the hired band begins to play with his ex-fiancé singing her vengeance at him.

Let Me Take Care of You (one-shot)

The personal assistant to Dracule Mihawk notices he is not quite acting himself: a small wince as he reaches for his breakfast wine glass, a grimace as he draws it to his lips and the narrowing of his eyes as he begins to slouch. Luckily for the both of them, the assistant has a resume of many a skill: remedial massage being the key element provided to the broody warlord. He reluctantly accepts their touch, longing for the burden to be released from his shoulders.

El Tango de Mihawk (one-shot)

A talented thief manages to obtain an invite to the marine ball and decides to utilize it as a great opportunity to steal from the wealthiest members of the world government. Mihawk immediately recognizes them and decides to toy with their scheming, tango dancing ensues.

The Marine's Mistake (request) (one-shot)

Something horrible occurred to rid the warlord of his signature facial hair. Cadets had gathered and began whispering in hushed tones as Garp held a seated meeting with the warlord at a table in a run of the mill tavern. A new transfer does not recognize the sleek cheeks of the handsome gentlemen and immediately decides to approach to flirtatiously engage him over a drink or two. Mihawk is amused.

My Love Mine All Mine (request) (one-shot)

Mihawk returns to his castle in kuraigana nine days after he was due to return. He finds his lover sleeping in his bed, face falling to rest atop his pillow. Soft drabble, pining, longing.

Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling (request) (one-shot) Part 2

Mihawk notices his Fledgling, an apprentice he took under his wing, has become lazy in their training. Upon one final vocal reprimand, they collapse; sputtering a cocktail of saliva, blood and... petals? Is that petals in their hand? Surely not.

The Spear and the Sword (request) (one shot)

Drabble Part 2

Mihawk is required by Vice-Admiral Garp to obliterate an approaching armada of barbaric pillagers from their attack on a marine base. As this army was not enough for him to handle alone, Garp calls in another warlord, a ferocious warrior-woman armed with a spear, to aid in his ability to complete this task with as much succession as possible with as little damage done to the defenseless base. Both begin their armed ascension, showcasing their abilities in contest to see how many troops they best by the end of battle, against how many injuries they themselves acquire in the thralls of combat.

Little Sparrow (one-shot: drabble)

Mihawk has been up with your daughter, soothing her as she experiences her leap weeks. You spend some moments with your husband as he holds her in his arms.

Sapsorrow: (9/10 Series)

Upon receiving an invitation from the lord of Kuraigana to train his wards, you never expected your career as a governess to lead you here. As your tour of the keep was conducted, a ring was slipped onto your finger: invoking an ancient curse you truly did not understand. Setting three conditions for marriage, your newly betrothed immediately made haste to complete them with you blissfully ignorant that his life hung in the balance should be fail his task.

Macule Drihawk (drabble)

When Dracule Mihawk drinks, he becomes an entirely different person. That person's name is Macule Drihawk.

Pretty Bird (series)

Mihawk is an injured avarial trapped in his raven form while healing. You nurse him back to health, and he becomes smitten with you.

Obsession (one-shot)

Many believe Mihawk keeps the knowledge of his spouse a secret because he is a private man. Truth of it is, he is simply obsessed with you and doesn't believe any other pair of eyes is worthy of meeting their gaze with your majesty.

Happy Trail (mini fic)

Mihawk is not as well groomed as he usually keeps himself. You notice, and you can't help yourself.

Sir Crocodile:

My Favorite (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?

Sands of Time: Intentions of Series

Sir Crocodile thought he was safe from the intentions of the haunting Sapsorrow Queen. His soul has been laid claim, his time is running out. How can he have a stranger fall in love with his within the year? Would she truly take his sould should he fail?

When We Wake (one-shot)

Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

The Duality of Sir Crocodile (NSFW drabble)

The duality of a dominating gentleman. Spoiling and endearing, encumbering and brutal.

Warmth (One-Shot)

Misc Multiples:

Sir Crocodile is out for a walk in Arabasta with his pug, and he is stopped by a curious child who desires to pet them. As you, their guardian, approaches, Sir Crocodile is intrigued by your candor.

Intimacy (NSFW One-Shot)

Sir Crocodile is patient while you take him for the first time.

Get Well Soon (Drabble one-shot)

You're sick, and they do their best to support you through it. Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk

Please, I'll be good (one-shot)

After rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.

Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin

How They Kiss (drabble)

Four different kisses with all of your favourites. Where would you place them in these categories?

Hallmark Piggyback (drabble)

Short piggyback on @indydonuts post about OP characters in a hallmark movie. Drabble is for Law x reader x Mihawk - amnesia trope

You're Angry at the Tall Men: Drabble (One-Shot)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo.

An Affectionate Embrace: Drabble (One-Shot)

It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind?Buggy, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Shanks, Benn Beckman

Forehead Kisses (short drabble)

You're being a brat because they're neglecting you. Prepare to be greeted with the forehead kiss you crave from them.

Zoro, Crocodile, Kid, Killer, Beckman, Mihawk

Interrogation (crack dialogue)

Cross-Guild crack dialogue x reader

Dreaming of You (One-Shot) NSFW

They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Dracule Mihawk

[mansitapie]

Iggy like human👀

A former gang member and thief who bothered the streets of Manhattan and later redeemed himself after Abdul took him out of police arrest and then saw Abdul as Big brother, father and friend

And Pet shop like human🦅🦅🦅🔥

Pet shop, a native American who is mute and only communicates in signs, sought wealth and power, guiding himself to Lord Dio, who gave him an office in his mansion to later be his apprentice like a brother or son

[lostuzumaki]

Princess Luffy AU

I ended up publishing this post a little earlier than I planned. Unfortunately, I didn't finish the next part of the Reincarnated Luffy Au, so I decided to post the design for some of the Princess Luffy AU characters.

Garp - King

Ace - the oldest prince

Sabo - the second prince

Luffy - the youngest princess

Zoro - Mercenary

Usopp - Bard (more like inventor)

Nami - Thief

Chopper- apprentice to the herbalist

Robin - declared a witch ( an educated woman trying to learn about the history of the land)

Sanji - Cook

(If you can think of other designs for other characters, feel free to send them to me if you want. I'm not very good at it and I need some inspiration 😅)

[imsobadatnicknames2]

Been working on this for a bit: Ensam Själ. It's a set of tools and procedures for Mörk Själ, my soulslike hack of Mörk Borg.

In it you will find a 2d10-based Yes/No oracle with a chance for random events, a variety of dark fantasy-themed spark tables, and a set of specific procedures for exploration using these tools.

It takes inspiration from a lot of different solo and GM-less rules, such as Mythic GM Emulator, Conjectural Roleplaying GM Emulator, Game Master’s Apprentice, Solitary Defilement, FORGE, and my very own Pocket Delver (If you've played Pocket Delver, the last set of random tables should look pretty familiar)

As always, licensed CC-BY-SA 4.0, so feel free to poach and steal any bits and pieces you like from it.

It costs $5 USD, but there are 10 community copies available, and I will be adding a new community copy for each sale made. Also, for the next two months it will be available at a discounted price for everyone who already owns the full version of Mörk Själ.

Plus. If community copies run out and you still want a free copy because you can't or just don't feel like paying for it... you can just message me about it, and I'll be more than happy to give you a download code.

Anyway hope y'all enjoy it :)

As a little demonstration of how it works, I will copy the full example of play I included at the end of the document under the cut.

Example of Play

Here is a demonstration of solo play applying the procedures contained in this document.

After randomizing character creation, our chosen undead is Abigeal of Kingfisher Thicket, a Battlemage with a missing foot and vague memories of being betrayed by an old ally.

Abilities: Strength +2, Agility 0, Toughness -1, Presence +2

HP: 5

Inventory: Shortsword, Fur Armor, Lantern, 3 Flasks of oil.

Inventory slots: 4/13

Stamina: 9

Spells: The Fortress, Merciful Sunlight

Her main goal is to track down and punish the old ally who betrayed her, who is...

Roll on NPC spark table: 64 – Arrogant, 16 – Thief

... an arrogant thief by the name of Ciannán the Grinning.

Rolling on the Area spark table (22, 26) we find out that she begins her quest in a flooded prison. I’ve decided that the enemies for this area are: Nuisance: Sewer Rat – Normal: Ghost – Tough: Wraith – Miniboss: Amphibian Shaman – Boss: Giant Sewer Rat.

Let’s generate a room:

Roll for number of exits: 6 - three exits. Roll for cardinal directions: 2 – NE, 4 – SE, 8 – NW. I chose not to roll for exit type for the time being and assume the three of them are horizontal

Roll on room content tables: Encounter: 11 – Nothing. Loot: 8 – Weapon (Roll on weapons table to determine weapon: Femur) . Room feature: 9 – Nothing.

Standing on top of a small ledge, Abigeal looks upon the rest of the flooded room, an abandoned guard post in an ancient, now flooded prison.

Is there a light source in the room? (2d6 on Soul Oracle: 6 – Yes) Luckily, the light that filters from the cracks on the ceiling above is enough to see clearly.

Is the water shallow enough to walk across it? (2d10 on Soul Oracle: 4 – “Yes, and...”) The water is shallow enough to reach all of the doors walking, and barely deep enough to get your feet wet. Due to the Yes, and Response, Doom is increased by 1.

Abigeal ignores the femur floating in the water, instead going to check the coffer beside the old guard table.

Is there anything of value in the coffer? (2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 12 – No, but...)

There is nothing in the coffer, but when she crouched down to check it she managed to spot something in the water under the table.

Is it a key? (2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 8 - Yes)

Abigeal grabs the key she spotted under the table, and then finally decides to check the door to the Northeast.

Room generation:

Roll for number of exits: 2 – None, the room has no doors other than the one she came in through.

Roll on room content tables:

Encounter: 16 – 1d3 tough enemies. Loot: 11 – Nothing. Room feature: 12 – Nothing.

Upon entering the flooded guard barracks, Abigeal suddenly finds herself facing a Wraith. As she wasn’t making any particular effort to conceal herself, she’s spotted almost immediately.

Roll for Wraith HP (4d8): 21

Initiative: Test Agility DR12. 19 - Success, Abigeal acts first.

Knowing she can’t defeat the Wraith head-on, Abigeal tries to use her Merciful Sunlight spell to blind it.

Spellcasting: Test Presence DR12. 18 – Success.

Casting Merciful Sunlight and aiming the bright light directly at the wraith’s eyes, Abigeal manages to blind it for 8 combat rounds (There is no set effect for blinding, but I’ve decided the DR to avoid the wraith’s attacks has been reduced to 6)

The wraith tries to hit Abigeal, but she easily avoids its touch and counterattacks with her shortsword, just barely managing to hit its almost incorporeal form. She decides to spend one Stamina to add one damage die to her attack, hitting with 2d4 for 7 damage.

I will omit the full play-by-play narration of the encounter, but Abigeal manages to defeat the wraith after seven rounds of combat, with her HP reduced to 4 and her Stamina Reduced to 3, and earns 250 souls. She rolls her weapon’s Usage Die, but luckily it comes up 3, so her weapon isn’t damaged. However, when rolling her armor’s UD it comes up 1, so her armor receives one level of wear and its UD is reduced from d8 to d6.

After stopping to catch her breath, she recovers 2 Stamina, and decides to examine the room.

Is there any container for guards’ belongings still intact?

(2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 3 – Yes, And...)

There is not only one, but several barrels and coffers containing the former guards’ belongings. Among them, she finds 2 bombs, a net, 20 ft of rope, and a spear. Due to the Yes, and Response, Doom is increased by 1.

Abigeal takes the spear and the two bombs and adds them to her inventory.

She then heads back to the guard post, now taking the door to the southeast.

Roll for number of exits: 3 – One exit. Roll for cardinal directions: 3 – East. Roll for exit type: 3 – Horizontal.

Roll on room content tables:

Encounter: 11 – Nothing. Loot: 16 – Random scroll. Room feature: 14 – Major obstacle.

Rolling on a spark table to determine what the obstacle is, I decided to roll Verb + Subject

31 – Increase. 16 - Adversity

Towards the center of this room, the water level is much higher respective to the floor, making it impossible to traverse to the other side walking.

Is the scroll on the side of the room Abigeal can reach on foot? (2d10+2 on Soul Oracle: 11 – Random Event)

A random event occurs. Before determining what it is, I resolve the yes/no question by looking at the result of the higher of the two dice. As it’s an even number (8), the answer is yes, the scroll is floating on the side of the room Abigeal can reach on foot.

Roll for event type: 12 – Reveal

Something is revealed to not be what it initially seemed. I decided to roll Adjective + Subject and...

21 – Ancient. 12 – Ally.

Rather serendipitous.

I decided to interpret this as... she suddenly remembers this was an important place for her and Ciannán, back in the old times before the undead curse.

Is this where he betrayed her? (2d10+2 on Soul Oracle: 21 – No, and...)

This doesn’t seem to be the case, quite the opposite, in fact. Due to the No, and Response, Doom is reduced by 1.

Is this where they met? (2d10+1 on Soul Oracle: 10 – Yes, but...)

She recognizes this as the place they met, but she can barely remember anything from that encounter other than the place itself.

I’m going to stop playing here for the time being, closing this example of play on what I think is the most interesting note so far.

[wingedcat13]

Tell No Lies

[Part One of the third Synovus installment.]

Living on a tropical island didn’t mean the weather was always sunny.

Your island wasn’t in quite the right spot to really get the worst of the monsoon season - too far on the eastern side of the Pacific - but you did still get plenty of rainstorms. When that happened, your group of minions battened down the hatches, triple checked the generators, and usually played cards or other bored games. Sorry, board games.

Sometimes you played, sometimes you didn’t. You weren’t playing this time, because you were catching up on some reading. Sans costume, slumped sideways in a chair, one hand on the cup of hot chocolate you had requested and immediately forgotten about.

Then your phone had dinged.

That was weird, because during storms you didn’t usually have service - technology hadn’t yet beaten Mother Nature entirely. But there were the underwater cables that had been set up to provide internet access, and emergency calls.

And that was more than enough for an entity like Optix to get through when it wanted to. Even when your phone was set to silent.

With a small sigh, you had set the book aside and reached for the screen. An email from Optix: the subject line, in all caps, “INVITATION.”

Intriguing.

You opened it, scrolling past the gold-adorned letterhead to the digital party invitation. You read it. You deleted it. You reluctantly pulled it from the trash folder to read it again. You forced yourself to read it a third time.

‘Thank you for informing me.’ You replied to Optix, before sliding the phone away. The book came to rest comfortably against your chest, pages down, probably doing all kinds of damage to the spine. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the present to alternate between stewing over the possibilities of the future and miring yourself in the past.

Eventually, your field of vision had been interrupted by a slow-moving face, drifting in from your peripheral. One eyebrow raised, only inches from your own face, it continued moving slowly and smoothly past where most people would have reached a limit.

“Dude.” Alexandria said, “You haven’t even blinked in like. Two minutes.”

Your erstwhile ‘apprentice’ was using her abilities to float over you. Wearing her suit, which had been modified recently to include panels of bright color against the near-black gray you’d initially designed, she looked sleek and surreal. And older than seventeen, though maybe you just couldn’t judge ages past ‘young’ anymore.

“Hello, Menace.” You’d greeted her placidly. “How goes the Great Pacific Vandalism Project?”

Alexandria beamed, and floated away an inch or so to a more comfortable speaking range. She’d finally gotten a better handle on equilibrium in flight, so her gestures as she talked no longer caused her to wobble in whatever direction she indicated. “It went great! We finally managed to get that CEO.” Her grin widened, “Right in the middle of a press conference.”

“It was satisfying.” A different voice had agreed, as another costumed figure moved into your general field of view. This one didn’t lean over you, but rather settled into the chair opposite, and helped themself to your hot chocolate. Cold chocolate, by now.

A bit of concentration had changed that, as the thief raised the mug to consider it. Their dark blue form-fitting suit had changed in recent times as well, now featuring more delicate details around the neck and wrists. Not quite scales, not quite flourishes, not quite vines, picked out in a slightly darker shade. The short cape at the hips now had flared ends, rather than a pointed tip. It had an elegance that Menace’s suit lacked.

Or perhaps that was the wearer?

“Naiad.” You’d been certain that your tone hadn’t changed. “Welcome back.”

Minerva had lifted the stolen mug in salute, and allowed you a trace of a smile. Crime agreed with her - even if she only rarely agreed with it. Once the straight-laced, impeccable hero Athena, she was now known much more widely as the Naiad: a bioterrorist with a strong cult following among ecology groups.

Over the past year, she had very publicly and very precisely targeted companies who were responsible for much of the pollution going into the Pacific Ocean. Working alone at first, then allowing Menace to join her, she had made trips to the great garbage patches that floated in the ocean’s wide expanse, and returned their contents very directly to sender.

Cars, homes, persons, factories and distribution centers (while they were closed and no one was present; employees were innocent until proven guilty) were all fair game. The only way to be sure of immunity from the Naiad’s attacks was to publicly document cleanup efforts, make donations to the groups who did the same, and implement vast reductions in pollution.

It was good mother/daughter bonding time for the two of them. You knew your presence would only overshadow their efforts, so you simply offered aid and tips during the planning phases. And there was the standing unspoken fact that you would appear to bail them out, if it ever became necessary. So far, it had not been necessary.

Minerva had even admitted, grudgingly, that this new angle on life was, at times, fun.

And that, really, plus the trace of a smile, is what had given you a terrible idea.

—------------------------------

What was even more terrible was that Minerva had agreed.

She stood now at your shoulder, just a step behind, while your invitation was inspected by a man who had gotten very tense at your approach. His costume was patterned in pale yellows and purples, a strip of rainbow draped over his collarbones. You couldn’t make out much expression behind the mask, but you didn’t really need to when you could hear the material creaking as he prepared to square up.

“I am… confused.” He allowed, considering the printed invitation. “You - do know this is a hero’s wedding, right?”

“I’m aware.” You answer flatly, the helmet giving you a wonderfully crisp punctuation. You’ve made only the slightest concessions to the event’s formality in the form of a nicer, gilt-edged cape with decorative clasps, and white rose corsages at your wrists to indicate your intention of peace. “I don’t begrudge you the confusion, Sun Dog. I will be grudging if you attempt to deny me entry.”

Sun Dog hesitated a moment more. You really didn’t want to hurt the man, no one you knew of did - which was probably why he was the bouncer at this particular event. It was hard to hate the person whose sole job was disaster response and relief.

Just when you were resigning yourself to this going poorly at the gate, Naiad leaned forward over your shoulder. Her costume had been adapted to include a floor-length skirt in a blue ombre, slit to the thigh on the sides and revealing the usual suit’s leggings beneath, and her arms were bare to the shoulder except for jewelry in the places of her normal accents. She’d pinned her hair up with sea-shell and coral pins, with deep purple pearls for earrings. You stopped breathing, attempting to be as still as possible to prevent any of those decorations catching on part of your ensemble.

“Parhelion. We’ll cause no trouble.”

The name clearly meant something to him. Sun Dog’s body language changed, shifting rapidly through a few shades of things you didn’t know him well enough to identify. None of them were hostile, though, so you gave the man his moment to process.

“I… had my suspicions, but…” Sun Dog shook his head, “Sorry. Not the time or the place. Glad you’re alright - Naiad, is it?” At her confirming nod, he continued, “Anyway, the invitation is legitimate, I’m just surprised you actually came. Uh. Guest book is ahead, gift table to the left. Good luck?”

You nodded regally and moved further into the venue, gaudily bedecked in white and taupe and glittering silver and gold. At the guest book, you confined your signature at first to the simple stylized S that was popular among bored schoolchildren. Naiad signed more gracefully, and pressed the pen back into your hand. You contemplated stealing it to make a point, but added the remaining letters to your name in a normal script instead.

Naiad was also the one to place your gift - a small black box with a silver ribbon - among the bright and shiny assortment of well-wishes, though that was more a matter of practicality. If you’d put it there, everyone would’ve assumed it was a bomb.

And the entire time, you were surrounded by people in costume. Some had made little to no alteration to their standard getups. Others had clearly commissioned outfits specifically for this event. Those who were part of the wedding party were all in what felt to you like mockery of their usual garb; the same shapes and silhouettes, but in shades of champagne and adorned with glitter, their masks or helms altered to match each other.

You didn’t stand out as much as you might’ve. There were heroes who dressed in dark colors and full-coverage helmets. It was the cape that really made your silhouette distinctive, which was why you’d shortened it from its usual wide floor-length to a slimmer, knee-length drape. And besides, who would invite Synovus to a wedding? Particularly this wedding?

Abruptly, you wished that changing your outfit hadn’t felt like so much of a concession, a surrender. You wished that you could’ve hemmed and hawed between narrow or wide skirts, short or long sleeves, backless or high necked. Layers of chiffon, of deep blue with tiny flickering gems in blues and greens and purples, a clear blue sash at the waist, or perhaps a shawl around the shoulders -

But that kind of wishful thinking is what got you here in the first place. The moment passes. Your suit is familiar, fitting, and practical. The rosettes at your wrists feel like chains.

You hear the first whispers from one of the bright costumes around you. Is that Synovus?

You turn to Naiad, “We should find our seats.”

—-------------------------------

You were, rather mercifully, seated to the back and one side, in a portion of the room not quite as well lit. The set up was rather traditional, with everyone split down rows, and the aisle in the center. You were on the bride’s side, and couldn’t honestly have said what the name of the groom was.

A few of the heroes had taken to eyeing you. Before they could investigate or act on their suspicions blindly (you knew which one you thought was more likely), the music started.

And the lights went out.

Your hand found Naiad’s in the darkness, and you lifted it to your helmet so she could feel you shake your head. Not me. Your power was quiet, the shadows entirely natural. You remained still, watching the attendees shift and begin to whisper. Most of them must have been warned ahead of time - prudent, considering how many of these people you’d fought. How many of them had you given a fear of the dark?

When a light appeared, it was not natural, nor electric. Nor was it yours. A pale silver glow began at the foot of the aisle, illuminating from beneath one high heel. Then another. On the next step, the first light began to float, turning from a spot on the floor into a small orb of light. Others joined it, like so many small sparkling stars.

In this way the bride, the hero Dazzler, made her way down the aisle.

You had to admit, it was a stunning display. On occasion, one of the lights would twirl around her, granting tantalizing glimpses of her dress and playing off the crystals in her hair. The pale silver glow was soft and alluring, and in the darkness of the room, it made her seem as though she were a deity of creation; the steps she took forming reality in her wake.

At the altar, she paused, to hand off her bouquet. Then she turned to face the crowd, raised her hands, and called all of the globes of light to encircle her and the man in a suit who was presumably her groom. They formed the shape of a heart, then faded as the room’s lights came back on.

Everyone oohed and awed appropriately. Naiad shifted, and you realized you still held her hand. Without conscious thought, your grip had tightened. Abruptly, you let go.

The two of you sat in silence as the ceremony began.

—----------------------------------

Once everyone had moved to the tables, you actually thought you might get through this without being officially recognized by anyone other than Sun Dog. That was both a relief, and mildly insulting.

Naiad had given you questioning glances since you had left the ceremony, but you’d yet to provide an answer. You’d warned her before you arrived that you would speak as little as possible once inside the venue - your voice would certainly give you away. Naiad had said that was the consequence of being a monologuer. You’d protested, vociferously, because it was true.

But as the guests were mingling, the open bar being besieged, the instant your shoulders started to relax, there was a high pitched shriek from somewhere behind you. Not a shriek of terror or anger or surprise. One of joy.

Of course.

The syllables of your name filled the air, broken into three and a half parts. There was a frantic rustle of cloth and the rapid clicking of heels. Then arms wrapped around your middle, and a heavily perfumed, glittery weight slammed into you.

You, very judiciously, did not move.

“I’m so glad you came!” Dazzler gushed, moving around in front of you. She let her arm trail as she did, so that she never lost contact with you. You felt like you were being circled by a shark. Up close, the makeup and glitzy hair-pieces felt like an attack. “You never RSVP'd! I’d almost given up hope!”

You still had not moved, even to turn your head. Dazzler pouted at you, and you tried to ignore that you knew she was just looking at herself in your helmet’s reflection. Around you, half the guests had abandoned their chairs or their place in line at the bar, half-starting, ready to leap into action. Every single pair of eyes in the place was fixed on the two of you.

And you knew that this was exactly why Dazzler had invited you. You’d known when you received the invitation. You knew when you decided to attend. Because this kind of bullshit was exactly why you’d harassed her into moving to a different continent.

“Many felicitations, Diane.” You reply, as though she isn’t doing her damnedest to make a scene. As though she’d cornered you in a hallway, instead of the middle of the banquet hall. “I get invited to so few parties - I can’t imagine why.”

Laughing, Dazzler moves to swat you on the arm, and transitions from that to looping her arm through yours. “Oh, Syn. People just don’t know you, that’s all! Come on, say hello to everyone with me, it’ll-”

You have no intention of being dragged off by Dazzler to become arm candy. But before you can find a way to elegantly maneuver out of the situation, Naiad is stepping between you.

“Perhaps things have changed since my wedding.” Without a filter, Naiad’s voice is not far off from Athena’s. She’s taking a terrible risk to do this, that someone will identify her by her past persona and its questionable end. But Athena never took quite that tone of condescension. “But greeting the guests is typically something one does with their groom.”

“Oh.” Dazzler steps away, a tiny frown creasing her brow. She’s not used to having competition. Not used to being thwarted by anyone who isn’t you. Still, she recovers quickly, laughing again and holding the back of one hand to her forehead. “Of course! With all the preparations and everything, I forgot there’s so many steps! You must remember, right? All the decisions you have to make, and then there’s so many people here -”

Again, Naiad cuts her off, “Then we wouldn’t want to monopolize so much of the bride’s time. Happiness - and many years of it - to you both.”

She raises an arm to your back, and automatically, you reciprocate. It makes you a unified front, automatically reinforcing her words. You know everyone here will remember this. Naiad is now permanently associated with Synovus.

“Be well, Dazzler.” You add, so no one will think this is some kind of catfight you allowed to happen. You’re not sure that thought was coherent, actually, but saying something seemed important at the time.

Together, you and Naiad turn away, moving to your assigned seats in a corner. The rest of the room is silent, except for the music no one thought to pause. Dazzler’s bridesmaids - most of them heroes themselves - swarm her, whispering furiously.

Dazzler raises her voice to be heard by everyone when she responds, “Oh, we used to date.”

———————————

“I dislike that I can’t even call that woman a menace without besmirching my daughter’s name.” Naiad said, some time later.

The two of you had sat in silence while the room slowly restored itself to a cautious order. No one had forgotten you were there, but some seemed to accept that you were here peacefully. Given that you were not going to remove your helmet, and therefore could not actually consume anything, both you and Naiad had eaten before you came. This also spared the nervous waitstaff the task of servicing your - otherwise empty - table.

You let out a long, slow exhale, below what your helmet will verbalize. “Calling her anything will please her, in the end. Any attention is good attention, and if it lets her play the virtuous victim, all the better.”

Naiad glances back at you, gauging something. “She fooled you?”

You wince, attempt to communicate something solely by facial expression, and fail utterly because you’re wearing a helmet. How to describe what you’d seen in Dazzler once?

“I…. Wanted very badly to be someone worth effort. She caught me by surprise. It wasn’t until much later I realized she actually believed….” You break off, grimacing.

Naiad’s head tilts in a way that suggests she’s raising her brows at you. “Believed you loved her?”

“No - no, I knew she thought that. I wasn’t - I was young.”

These had been the days before Rosie, before Doll. Before there had been anyone but you, still running from and hunting any of Sunhallow’s surviving lieutenants. Nineteen and alone and then suddenly there was someone telling you otherwise, someone with a power of light so like and so different from your father’s.

“She felt.” You say finally, “That we were… destined. Her light, to my darkness. That I was… tameable.”

It had taken some years of retrospection to put the pieces together, but you had. Dazzler had wanted a tame villain; proof she was worth loving enough that it erased your identity in the process. Justification for everything she was, because she was the ‘good’ half. The ‘pure’ one.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Naiad mutters. She raises one hand, as though to pinch the bridge of her nose, but settles for bracing against the mask’s thick material.

“That too. But as I said - we were young.” Your voice was dry, and a little bit weary. Dazzler exhausted you, even now.

“Does she-?” Naiad cuts herself off, looking to re-affirm that Dazzler (and her groom) are on the other side of the room. Still, she lowers her voice, “Does she… know, then?”

Your laugh is bitter, but it is a laugh, “No. No, I got away before she learned all my secrets.”

You tap the table, curving your hand to make a small alcove where only you and Naiad can see your palm, and summon a small flicker of light. Then you let your hand fall flat again, extinguishing it.

“I am complete without her, by whatever metric you care to use.”

Naiad nods, accepting that explanation. There had been glasses of water on the table when you arrived, and she’d pulled one closer to claim it. You can tell she’s thinking by the way she traces its rim. You can tell she’s upset in some way by the way the water in the glass rises to follow her movement.

“How’d you explain the tattoo?” She asks mildly.

“She never saw it. I think she believes I have scars I don’t want anyone to see.”

A tattoo was a kind of scar, in a way, so it hadn’t been a lie. And it had fit with the image of you Dazzler so wanted, for you to have been broken and abused. Ashamed.

Naiad narrows her eyes, “If you were lovers, then-“

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, my dear.”

She leans back in her seat, taking the glass with her. She sips at the water and surveys the crowd. You pretend not to be surveying her. Dazzler was not a secret, per se, but the details of how you’d felt about it are not something you’ve ever shared.

You need to stop giving Minerva your secrets. Particularly when she doesn’t realize how many of them she holds.

The music is upbeat and space-filling. Loud enough that conversations are confined to their groups, but not loud enough you have to shout to be heard. You’re pretty sure this song is on one of Menace’s playlists - something by Chappell Roan.

“Synovus, why are we here?” Naiad asks finally. You willingly give up any attempt to identify the song to consider the question.

“Because I’ve never been to a wedding. Well, no, that’s not quite true. I’ve never been a guest at a wedding.”

Naiad’s gaze drifts to the middle distance, and she downs the remaining water like she wishes it was something stronger. You silently slide another glass over towards her - they set the tables for six apiece.

“Whose wedding were you in?” She asks, making conversation.

“Mine. Technically.” It’s a long story.

Minerva - no, Naiad, you need to think of her that way in the field - had been toying with the stem of the second glass. Now she stopped, becoming very still. At first, your attention pivots to your surroundings, searching for the threat.

Then Naiad says, flatly, “Explain.”

“It wasn’t - like this.” You wave a hand. “I - this was after Dazzler. There wasn’t - I’m not still married.”

“Synovus.”

“It lasted a week, as we’d agreed at the start, the identities were fake, and we swore to never speak of it to each other again.”

It had been a last grasp at normalcy. You didn’t have a social security number, you hadn’t had a community in which to undergo rites of passage that weren’t geared towards Sunhallow. You’d never been to a public school or a prom or a fucking football game. But getting Vegas married and having a honeymoon, then immediately divorcing?

Well that you could do.

“Who did you even do this with?” Naiad asks, flabbergasted and possibly appalled.

“Ah.” You wish you could sip water, to buy yourself time. “Tallflawes.”

Naiad’s outraged, “What?” Is drowned out, however, by the sound of shattering glass, as a blurred figure drops through the roof.

———————————

It’s a bad idea to crash a wedding. Lots of people, most of them easily rallied to at least half the attendees’ defense. It’s worse when more than half the guests have superpowers.

The good news was that no one had to worry about the falling glass - there were four or five different barriers flung up immediately.

The bad news was that it was absolute fucking chaos for five minutes. You hope no one attending had epilepsy.

You, of course, had no intention of intervening. This wasn’t your doing, you were going to be blamed for it regardless, so you might as well enjoy the show. But then you’d recognized the invader as Prodigy. And he was alone.

And the only thing he was yelling, over and over, was your name.

So you stood, removing the white rosettes at your wrists as casually as someone adjusting cuff links. You called to the shadows you’d been keeping at bay. You dialed up the volume of your helmet’s speaker.

And as everyone in the room except Naiad - including Prodigy - found themselves wrapped in solid darkness, you bellowed into the room,

“BE SILENT.”

You also had a small loop of shadow kill the music, because you never did a thing by halves.

As the room suddenly quieted, Prodigy came to drift in the middle of the space. The hum of his hoverboard was the loudest thing in the room at the moment. He wasn’t even struggling against your bonds.

And when he neither complained nor cracked a smile, only looking at you with wide wild eyes and tendrils standing on end, you felt your stomach drop. You knew even before he said, “They’re coming, Synovus! My homeworld - they sent a ship!”

——————————————

[I did say this was the one where they went to space. Buckle up, everybody, it’s time to dance!

Which Chappell Roan song is playing? Whichever one you personally believe is funniest and/or most tragic. Tag it!

Links to Ao3.]