#though fearing it being overseen by him
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I am currently ailed SO.
what were Microsis' (Micro Genesis) (Microgen? Microgen.) doctors appointments like? we know he was pretty sickly, so what did that entail? was it all Hollander or different doctors as well?
You know what's worse than Genesis angst? CHILD Genesis angst >:)
• Genesis' medical appointments were frequent affairs at the Rhapsodos house, usually held in Genesis' room, always overseen by Dr. Hollander who insisted on maintaining exclusive oversight of his "special case." His parents, particularly his mother, would fret constantly while he was examined—adjusting his collar, smoothing his hair.
• Genesis would sit on his bed, legs swinging as he tried not to fidget under his father's stern gaze and repeated commands to "sit properly" He always clutched one of his most expensive toys for comfort; a miniature replica of a Wutai dragon, a carefully carved wooden sword.
• Hollander's examinations were precise but unremarkable in practice—listening to Genesis' heartbeat, checking his reflexes, inspecting his throat. The embellishment came afterward, when he addressed Mr. and Mrs. Rhapsodos with crafted reassurances and vague warnings.
• Hollander leaned into their obsession with appearances, framing these restrictions as necessary for their son's development. "His constitution is delicate. He's sensitive to overexertion and exposure. A child like this must be monitored closely. Indoors is safer, away from contaminants and unnecessary risks."
• Mr. and Mrs. Rhapsodos embraced these prescriptions while Genesis remained seated on the edge of his bed, clutching his toy and silently wondering what made him so different, so vulnerable.
• When he wasn't allowed out, Genesis would watch other children playing freely in the distance outside his window, clutching whatever new toy his parents had bought to compensate for his isolation, wishing he could join them.
• Sometimes Playtime was confined to his room or the estate. Even Angeal, who had been his only friend, was kept away while Genesis read books, practiced penmanship, and honed skills that required no exertion.
• His mother insisted on tracking every sniffle, maintaining detailed logs of his temperature, appetite, and energy levels, calling Hollander at the slightest deviation. The appointments always ended the same way: Hollander prescribing new medications or treatments while Genesis sat quietly.
• His health improved as he got older, though he remained more susceptible to illness than his peers. The constant appointments decreased but never fully stopped. He was no longer constantly sick, though he still caught colds more easily than others. His parents relaxed their grip slightly, allowing him to train with Angeal, explore Banora and eventually leave for the army.
• His childhood left him with lingering anxiety about his health, though he believed he'd outgrown the worst of it.
• Years later, he would realize that Hollander's "special care" had been more about monitoring than healing. When degradation began, the old feelings rushed back. The whispers, the fear of being broken. For all his strength, Genesis felt like the pale child swinging his legs on the examination table again, clutching a toy and wondering what was wrong with him.
#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#final fantasy vii#genesis rhapsodos#ff7 crisis core#crisis core#headcanons#genesis rhapsodos headcanons
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So this is my way of coping with the end of Arcane Season 2. Viktor's and Jayce's story left a hole in my heart which I now try to fill up with writing a fanfiction of them both after the events of Season 2 🥹
Please feel free to show me any mistakes I might have overseen. I'm not a native English speaker, but I did my best! (For some words or phrases I needed to use translators or ChatGPT, I hope this is alright tho)
It's a Jayvik fanfiction and it will be slow-burn. Their feelings and their past are very important to me, so it will be mentioned often through the story. There will be trigger warnings also, though this first chapter should not have any :)
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Chapter 1: Waking in unknown
Viktor’s eyes fluttered open, the world around him blurred in a soft haze. Warm air brushed against his skin, carrying the scent of fresh grass and wildflowers. He blinked several times, struggling to make sense of the tranquil, endless meadow stretching before him.
Abruptly, he sat up, his heart pounding as fragments of his last moments clawed their way into his mind. He shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t possible.
Or was he even alive?
Shock rippled through him as he instinctively glanced down at his hands. One trembled slightly, the other clenched tightly around something smooth and cold—the rune stone he had given to Jayce so many years ago. So many times. The weight of it felt both grounding and unbearable. After so many times Jayce finally succeeded, ending Hex-Tech once and for all, saving both time and space.
The meadow was eerily calm. Only the soft rustle of grass accompanied the stillness, while the vast sky above stretched endlessly, its gentle blue so serene it felt wrong. All of this felt wrong. Viktor’s thoughts, in contrast, raced in an endless, chaotic stream of guilt and grief.
He sat frozen for a long moment, struggling to grasp reality, his breath unsteady. The soft earth beneath him, the sun's warmth on his face, it all felt painfully vivid, far too real for a dream. Yet the questions in his mind refused to quiet: How? Why? Where was he?
Slowly, his fingers brushed over the sharp lines of his face, tracing the familiar contours, aged by time and hardship. He felt solid, alive, but different. Everything about this place was different. The sensations, the stillness, the overwhelming clarity of it all.
Then he heard it.
A faint sound. Rhythmic. Familiar.
A heartbeat.
It wasn't his own.
Viktor’s head turned sharply. Lying beside him, impossibly close, was Jayce.
Jayce.
His old friend. His partner.
The man who had stood beside him through their triumphs and failures. The man who had fought to save him, only to set off a chain reaction of destruction.
Yet also the man who had refused to abandon him. Not even at the very end.
But was that truly the end?
For a moment, Viktor could do nothing but stare, his chest tight, his breathing uneven. Jayce’s face seemed calm, his breath steady. Relief coursed through Viktor, mingling with disbelief, anger, and emotions he thought he had buried long ago. But above all stood fear.
Fear of this being merely a dream. His sight got blurry, as tears started to fill up in his eyes. He thought he lost the ability to cry a long time ago.
"J-jayce.. please.. don't do this to me..", his voice a trembling whisper. Slowly Viktor reached out, heavily shaking, his hand hovering above Jayce’s face as if afraid to shatter the illusion, his trembling fingers brushed against his brow, the touch light and hesitant. He needed to know—needed to feel—that this wasn’t a cruel hallucination. And it seemed that it wasn't.
“You're alive…” Viktor whispered, his voice raw and broken. "I'm.. alive.."
His throat tightened, the weight of everything he had carried for so long threatening to crush him. He had steeled himself to face whatever came next alone. But now, Jayce—after everything—was here. Viktor pulled his hand away sharply, slamming it into the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut, a single tear slipping down his cheek, carving a path toward the earth below.
This can’t be real.
The thought clawed at him. Was this some cruel trick of dying Hextech? A final mirage conjured by the remnants of their shattered invention? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what to feel, what to believe.
The tear fell silently into the grass, vanishing into the earth as Viktor’s thoughts spiraled. The meadow stretched around him in unyielding serenity, while within him, a storm raged.
Jayce’s eyes opened just moments later. For a brief instant, there was only silence—the gentle rustling of the wind weaving through the tall grass. Blinking slowly, his gaze landed on Viktor. His chest tightened, emotions surging within him, but relief rose above all else. A faint, almost incredulous smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“Viktor… is it really you?” he murmured.
He pushed himself up carefully, his movements deliberate, his eyes never leaving Viktor. There was so much he wanted to say, but words felt just so small in the face of this moment. Then, he noticed his trembling shoulders, the streak of a tear glistening against his pale cheek.
“Viktor…” Jayce’s voice softened, concern overtaking his initial awe. He sat up fully, instinctively placing a firm yet gentle hand on Viktor’s shoulder. The contact sent a shudder through Viktor, but Jayce didn’t pull away.
“I… I don’t understand,” Viktor whispered, his voice cracking, the words barely audible. “Why are you here? After everything… after all that’s happened, you stayed.”
For a moment, Jayce didn't know how to respond to him. He simply watched Viktor, his heart breaking at the sight of him—fragile, raw, tears streaming silently down his face. The weight of everything they had endured together pressed down on him, but the sight of Viktor’s pain was unbearable.
“It should be me,” Jayce finally said, his voice low. “It should be me asking you that. You’re here, after I… after I doomed your future.” His hand trembled slightly, though it remained steady on Viktor’s shoulder. “I just wanted to save you, after the rocket… after it exploded. Viktor, I’m so sorry.”
Jayce’s eyes closed tightly. He had always known—deep down—that his actions had set Viktor on his path of destruction. The glorious evolution, the pain, the suffering—it all traced back to his choice. His endlessly selfish choice.
Yet, even knowing that, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He had seen Viktor dying, and in that moment, all he wanted was to save him, no matter the cost.
“No, Jayce…” Viktor’s voice, though unsteady, held a quiet firmness. He drew a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet Jayce’s gaze. His golden eyes were still rimmed with tears, but determination flickered within them. “You tried to save me. That’s all you ever wanted.."
The weight of those words hung heavily in the air. Viktor’s chest tightened, old wounds threatening to break open anew. He couldn't help himself not fully believing the words he had just said.
Still Now, here they were—two broken men, each haunted by their own demons, inexplicably alive together.
Jayce hesitated, then moved closer. His hand slid gently to Viktor’s back, his touch light but steady, as he tried to offer comfort in the midst of their shared turmoil. Slowly, Viktor’s silent sobs quieted completely, his trembling eased, and he leaned ever so slightly against Jayce.
Lost in his thoughts, Viktor’s gaze fell to the ground. It was only then that he noticed something profoundly awkward—both of them were sitting in a field of flowers, entirely naked.
A flush crept across Viktor’s face, spreading quickly as realization dawned. His hands instinctively moved to cover himself, as if the absence of clothes was the most important thing right now.
“Ah…” he began, his voice faltering. “I… it seems our clothing… well, it didn’t quite make it through the transition to this new world.” He turned his face away, unable to meet Jayce’s eyes. “We—”
But Jayce only laughed softly, the sound breaking through the tension like sunlight through clouds. “It’s okay, Viktor. We’ve been through worse.”
Viktor stiffened, his face growing even redder. He shifted awkwardly, his body tense with self-consciousness. “Turn around,” he muttered. “Please, Jayce… avert your eyes.”
Jayce nodded immediately, respecting Viktor’s wishes without hesitation. He turned away, though his hand remained steady on Viktor’s back, offering quiet reassurance. Viktor continued to lean against him, his embarrassment slowly giving way to a strange, fragile sense of comfort.
For a while, they simply sat there, side by side in the meadow, their thoughts were just too heavy to put into words. The gentle breeze stirred the flowers around them.
“I don’t deserve this,” Viktor whispered after a long silence, his voice fragile. The words slipped out unbidden, laced with anguish. His gaze fell to the ground, his shoulders slumping further as if the weight of his guilt would crush him. “After everything I’ve done… everything I’ve caused… why are you still here? Why am I here?”
Jayce leaned back slightly, studying Viktor with a softness that belied the strength of his resolve. His expression was calm but firm, as though he had anticipated this moment. “Because I promised you, Viktor,” he said simply.
The words struck Viktor like a blow. His golden eyes flashed with anger and something far deeper. Grief perhaps, or fear. He turned arround and pulled back completely, breaking the fragile closeness they had shared.
“You foolish man,” Viktor hissed, his voice trembling as he blinked back fresh tears. “You could’ve died! You would’ve most certainly died, with your whole life still ahead of you!” His hands clenched into fists, still holding onto the little crystalline rune stone, trembling as the weight of his emotions threatened to spill over.
Another tear slipped down Viktor’s cheek as his gaze locked onto Jayce’s. The man sitting before him had sacrificed everything, without hesitation, for someone like him. Viktor’s heart twisted painfully.
“All the pain I have caused…” His voice faltered, breaking under the strain. “I shouldn't be here.. you-.”
“Enough, Viktor.”
Jayce’s voice was gentle but carried a note of authority that silenced Viktor’s protests. He reached out, his hand steady as it cupped Viktor’s cheek, brushing away the errant tear with the pad of his thumb. The touch was warm, grounding Viktor in the moment despite his turmoil.
“I don’t hate you,” Jayce said, his voice unwavering and sincere. “If we’re talking about hate, then it should be you hating me.”
Viktor blinked, confusion flickering across his face. “What…?”
Jayce’s brow furrowed, regret clouding his eyes as he continued. “I tried to kill you, Viktor. I saved you only to…” His voice cracked, and he shook his head as if trying to dispel the memory. “Only to nearly destroy you later.”
His words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, neither man spoke. Jayce’s hand remained on Viktor’s cheek, grounding them both in the here and now. Slowly, Jayce’s expression softened, a forced smile tugging at his lips.
“But we’re here now,” he said, his voice steadier. “Alive. Both of us. I know it’s hard to believe, and I know you’re confused. So am I. But we need to stay focused, somehow.” His gaze flicked down for the briefest moment, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “We’re naked, on top of everything else.”
Viktor’s face flushed instantly, the heat rising to his cheeks in a way that made him avert his gaze. He swallowed thickly, his composure momentarily shattered by the awkward reminder of their situation.
“You’re right,” Viktor murmured, his voice quieter now. “We… we need to find clothes. Being like this is…” He hesitated, searching for the right words before finally finishing, “…a distraction. Seeing you naked hinders my concentration.”
Jayce chuckled softly, the sound lightening the air between them. He arched a playful eyebrow, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Do I look that good?”
Viktor stiffened, his face flushing an even deeper shade of crimson. He turned away sharply, his body language stiff and awkward, but his mind betrayed him with an unbidden thought:
He does look good.
Jayce didn’t press further, though a small, knowing smile lingered on his face as he stood. “Let’s figure out where we are,” he said, offering Viktor a hand to help him up. “Clothes can come next. I don’t think either of us wants to stay this exposed any longer than necessary.”
Viktor hesitated for a moment, then accepted the gesture, allowing Jayce to pull him to his feet. The air between them remained heavy with unspoken emotions and a future filled with uncertainity.
#jayvik#arcane#arcane fanfic#league of legends#jayvik fanfic#jayce arcane#arcane viktor#jayce x viktor
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A Sage's Regret: Chapter 5
Chapter 5: Pristine Sanctum
Word Count: 5033
CW: None
Want all the chapters? -> Masterlist
~~~ <> ~~~
Stand upon the land of the sky fish, and behold its lofty view. Among the floating rocks you see, a droplet waits for you. Through this droplet shoot an arrow with the mark of the king. Do this task and you shall reveal a most wondrous thing. See the watery bridge’s resting spot with your own two eyes… that which connects the Zora to the people of the skies.’
These were the words carved into a stone slate near Toto Lake. You’d had to assist Jiahto in repairing it, as when the Upheaval occurred the stone had shattered. He’d encouraged you to seek out King Dorephan and request his assistance, although he mentioned something about the king ‘investigating’ the sludge from the sky.
As you returned to the palace of Zora’s Domain, your thoughts were swirling. The slate had only given you more questions than answers. A sky fish? A droplet? The mark of the king? Clearly, this was some sort of puzzle, but you feared that you lacked the pieces to make up the whole.
You silently wander through the domain. Everywhere you looked there was muck from the sky staining the once pristine architecture. The Zora people all seemed exhausted, and the sight saddened you greatly. While the children seemed in relatively high spirits, the adults within the palace were constantly having hushed conversations and sharing worried looks.
The fear and apprehension were tangible, and you longed to be of assistance to them. Yes, looking for Princess Zelda was your main priority- but you would never be able to rest knowing people were in need and that you could help them but didn’t. No matter what it takes, you were determined to solve this sludge problem.
An immediate roadblock stood in your path, however: King Dorephan was nowhere to be found.
The throne room which was typically graced by the patriarch’s presence was empty, aside from a few kids who were playing in the pool at the foot of the throne. Anxiety nagged at the back of your mind. ‘Something’s not right,’ you think, recalling your conversation atop the mountain, ‘shit, didn’t Sidon say something about his father being unwell?’
As you retreated down the staircase you tried to think of a plan going forward. Who could you speak to that would help you track the king’s location? If you returned to Mipha Court you could perhaps ask Sidon, but the thought of facing him again so soon made your stomach flip. Maybe you could seek out a council member- although if you were being honest with yourself, the last thing you wanted to do was speak with an elder.
You sigh when you realize what you’re going to have to do. You’ll have to speak with Lady Yona.
The tide pools beneath the throne room trickle gently as you approach them. Each of the three pools of fresh water has Zora lying within them, and you instantly realize that this area is being used as a makeshift medical ward. The ill Zora, sickened from the sludge, are being cared for by the palace nurses. The operation is being overseen by Yona, as well as her two ladies-in-waiting Chroma and Khira. This makes sense, considering all three possess healing abilities through the manipulation of water.
Your boots pad against the smooth stone as you approach, and it draws Khira’s attention as she glances over her shoulder toward you.
You can hear Yona speak, though it’s mostly to herself. Her palms glow blue as she hovers her hands over one of the ill Zora. “Phew. This sludge really is quite stubborn. I dearly hope our patients recover soon,” she sighs, a dejected expression on her face.
“Lady Yona,” Khira pipes up, “the Hylian knight is here at last.”
‘At last? Have they been waiting for me?’
Yona pauses and turns, her eyes lighting up with recognition as she meets your gaze. “Oh! You really came! How fortuitous,” she beams, “I was hoping to speak with you about an item of great importance.”
Your head tilts to the side in confusion. “Oh? I actually came to ask some questions, but…”
As you trail off awkwardly, Yona steps out of the tide pool and walks beside you. Gently, she guides you away from everyone else, and you realize that this is a conversation she’d rather not have overheard. You sense apprehension from her before she continues, her eyes flicking to the side before she whispers, “it’s about… an item which you entrusted to the domain. Your Zora armor.”
It’s difficult for you to hide the reaction this pulls from you. Your eyes widen and your breathing stutters. “The Zora armor?” you repeat, nervously clenching your hands together.
Yona nods, and though a small smile graces her face you can see the pity in her eyes, “the repair is complete, so it’s prepared to be bestowed upon you once more.”
“I, um… I don’t recall requesting that the armor be repaired,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. In fact, you can perfectly recall what you had said the last time you held that armor in your hands. You had begged Sidon to take it from you, you couldn’t bear to keep it because it reminded you far too much of him.
She glances away from you momentarily, and you quickly realize that she is looking up toward Ploymus Mountain. As though choosing her words, she slowly explains, “there was some… insistence, er, someone advocating in your stead that the armor be repaired and returned to its rightful owner.”
Surely, she must have been talking about the prince. The revelation caused an odd mixture of emotions to surge through you; joy that he was thinking of you, sadness that he felt compelled to return the armor, anger that he was going against your wishes. Rather than forcing an answer out of you, Yona gives you some mercy by instead continuing the conversation.
“If you’ll follow me, we can retrieve the armor from the workshop,” she smiles, pointing toward the stairs.
“I- uh-” you stammer, and your hesitation is obvious. You were conflicted, on the one hand, you knew that regaining the ability to ascend waterfalls would no doubt be incredibly useful for your journey. On the other hand, this armor was imbued with so much emotional baggage that it made your head spin. You had to make a decision though, and quickly, not wanting your indecision to be visible.
So you relent and say, “alright, let’s go.”
You trail behind the princess, anxiety eating away at you. A small, nagging voice in the back of your mind spoke venomous words into existence. What if this was some kind of cruel trick? What if she sought to make a fool out of you? What if this was all a lie, and there was no Zora armor to speak of?
Could she be stringing you along? Was this an attempt at humiliation? After all, her marriage was a rather important one, and you were likely the only person in all of Hyrule who posed a threat to her. Your rushing thoughts come crashing to a halt once you enter the doorway to the workshop.
“I’m so honored to reunite you with this item, dear Champion,” Yona says, holding the clothing in front of you, “your armor is as good as new! Please, take this along with our well-wishes. I am so happy that I was able to return it to its pristine state. It is a… precious piece of armor, after all. Please use this well for your investigation into Princess Zelda’s whereabouts!”
You take the armor into your hands and gently run your fingers over the scales and metal. She was right, it looked brand new, just as it had years ago when you’d first been gifted it. You feel rather ashamed for having assumed the worst of her. You painted a picture in your mind that saw her as a vindictive and spiteful woman when she truly seemed to be anything but. Perhaps you were the one who’d been vindictive and spiteful.
“... why are you doing this?” you ask her in a quiet voice, not wanting to be overheard.
Her smile drops momentarily.
“I’m sure you’re well aware of the circumstances under which I returned this item to the prince,” you continue with a sad sigh, “I’m sure you must be aware of everything, I don’t think he would have hidden anything from you. So why treat me this way? Why be so kind to me when I’m nothing but a threat to your union?”
Yona takes in a deep breath and shakes her head, before gesturing for you to walk with her. You carefully fold the armor and tuck it beneath your arm, walking beside her as she guides you to the upper level once more. There’s a look of contemplation on her face before she nods and speaks her mind.
“It saddens me to hear you speak so lowly of yourself,” she says, and it thoroughly catches you off guard. She must see the confusion on your face as she continues, “before I arrived here, I had heard nothing but good things about you- from Prince Sidon, of course. But even here in the palace, if your name is spoken it is because the people of this domain sing your praises. You’re a hero, not just to them, but to many of Hyrule’s citizens. I won’t let my, er, arrangement impact the way that I view you.”
The pair of you arrive in front of the goddess statue and you mull over her words. It hadn’t occurred to you that she would have taken any of this into consideration. You knew that in reality, you’d been allowing your jealousy of her engagement cloud your thinking.
Lady Yona glances around, hesitating for just a moment before she explains, “as for your… unique relationship with Prince Sidon… if either of us should be feeling any semblance of guilt, it should be me. I’m well aware of his affection for you- he is madly in love with you. This whole business with the arranged marriage has caused him so much pain, and as his friend, I see it as my duty to aid him where I can. This includes assisting you and ensuring that you still feel welcome.”
“It’s not like it’s your fault either,” you quickly interject, “you didn’t plan the arrangement, neither of you had a say.”
She smiles, though it’s rueful, “well, I suppose, but that doesn’t make it any more fair to you.”
Her words make you flinch and you cast your gaze aside. It wasn’t fair. Nothing had been.
“Now, you said you had a question for me?” she reminds you.
“Oh, yes,” you perk up, gladly accepting the distraction from your confused emotions, “I need to locate King Dorephan, it’s about the investigation into the sludge. Do you have any idea where he might be?”
At the mention of the king, Yona visibly falters. “Ah, he is… indisposed right now,” she answers cautiously, “though I must apologize, I am not at liberty to share his exact location.”
“... oh,” you mutter, disappointed by her response.
“But,” she continues, “if you wanted to learn in a more roundabout way, I would recommend seeking out the children. They can’t help but overhear everything the adults say, after all.”
Your brow furrows. Of course, the kids playing in the throne room. Perhaps they would know something about the king’s whereabouts.
You thank Yona for help and begin to turn on your heel, but the princess suddenly calling out your name calls your attention back to her.
“Ah, before you go, there is someone who would like to see you,” she says with a grin.
Confused, you allow yourself to be guided back to the tide pool infirmary. Yona leads you toward the back of the room where you see a nurse sitting with a much smaller Zora in the water. Your eyes widen when you realize that it’s the young boy you’d found in the lake.
The little Zora makes an excited babbling noise when he spots you, stretching his arms out of the water and reaching his hands toward you. You ask for the nurse’s permission before sitting at the water’s edge, smiling as you reach your left hand out to the boy. He wraps his smaller palm around one of your fingers and giggles at you.
“We believe he’s going to make a full recovery,” the nurse explains to you, “he’s showing signs of a healthy appetite already and has responded well to all of our cognitive tests, so we do not think he has any internal damage. Both you and Prince Sidon were able to help him just in time.”
Your heart swells with relief as she gives you this news. The young boy slaps the water playfully, his golden eyes focused on your other hand as well. Allowing him to examine you, you bring both your hands in front of his face. He stares at them intensely, his gaze flicking back and forth between each palm, clearly confused by the stark difference between your arms.
Deciding to entertain his curiosity, you fish through your small travel pack and pull a piece of flint out. You hold the rock in your left palm and watch as your right arm begins to glow. The little boy’s eyes widen in surprise, and only more so when you use your Ultrahand ability to lift the stone into the air. He squeals with excitement as you move the flint around, and you can’t help but grin. Even if your new arm gives you a lot of grief, at least it can make him laugh.
Lady Yona, who had been watching with a smile on her face, speaks up behind you, “he’s been rather talkative, though he can’t quite say words yet, he’s still rather young. But we thought you might’ve liked to see him since you were the one who found him. The squad of guards is still searching for his parents, but no word from them yet.”
“I see,” you mumble, setting the flint aside and putting your hand in the water (to which the young boy excitedly paddles over and starts to play with your palms). “I’m just happy he’s safe. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I couldn’t have saved him…”
Yona kneels beside you and thoughtfully nods her head, “yes, I understand. He seems to have become quite attached to you. Gaddison said he got rather fussy when you tried to hand him over.”
This pulls a small laugh out of you.
“As you can see, we do not yet have a name for him,” the princess continues, “we were hoping for the boy’s parents to be found, but since there are no signs yet we thought it might be a good idea to choose a temporary name for the time being. I wanted to ask if you have any ideas for a name.”
You sputter, whipping your head around to look at her, “wh- huh- me?”
She nods politely as if this is at all normal.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask, flicking your gaze to the little boy (who is now blowing bubbles in the water), “I wouldn’t want to impose. I- I don’t even know the first thing about the tradition of Zora names.”
“I trust you to pick a good name,” she responds with a genuine tone.
You focus your attention back to the boy and give him a smile. A name… it was a request you’d never been given before- and frankly, it felt like a heavy responsibility. Names were incredibly important, they had meaning and history behind them. You didn’t want to pick anything plain or foolish. You racked your mind for ideas until your train of thought landed on Sidon and his family.
The Zora royal family had a long lineage of having names selected from music. You decided that you would choose something which reflected the same.
“Allegro,” you answer after a moment of silence. You lift a hand and pat his head, an action which pulls a laugh from him.
Yona hums and repeats the name, as though testing it, “Allegro… yes, I quite like that, I’ll make a note of it for the nurses.”
You huff out a sigh of relief, glad that you’d received approval. “Can you say Allegro?” you ask him with a grin.
The young boy seems concentrated as he focuses on what you say. You repeat the name a few times, splitting up the syllables. Though it takes a few times, eventually he mumbles something akin to ‘Awehgo’ and you decide that it’s close enough. It’s only once you glance up and see that the sun is beginning to set on the horizon that you realize quite some time has passed.
Although you’d love to continue to keep an eye on the young Zora, you knew you still had a job to do. You try not to let yourself be too sad as you step away from the tide pool. You give him one last pat on the head and say your goodbye, to which he excitedly says “bye!” in return. Yona bids you a farewell as you walk away, Zora armor held tight in your arms.
It was time to find the king.
…
“A spot with clear water?” “Somewhere between Ploymus Mountain and the domain!” “Behind the waterfall-” “A secret entrance!”
These were all snippets of a conversation you’d overheard from the older Zora children. They’d been playing a game, though to you it seemed as if they were playing out the events of a battle King Dorephan had fought. Regardless, the outcome of the battle didn’t seem favorable, so you pieced together the words of the children and it led your next destination.
Mikau Lake. The lake had a large waterfall flowing into it, one of a series of falls that flowed from the top of the mountain. You stared at the water fondly, recalling a time during Sidon’s Divine Beast trials. Both of you had ascended these waterfalls together and you start to fondly remember it- before a sinking feeling settles in your stomach once more. That was in the past. You could not- would not do it ever again.
With a sigh you look down at yourself, examining your new- or, perhaps, old armor. The Zora armor sat snug on your body, perfectly fitted to your figure. The scales along your arms were a familiar texture, and the silver cuffs were almost nostalgic. The armor came with gloves for both hands and though you considered covering your right hand for the sake of your insecurities, you realized it would impede your abilities. So your right hand would have to stay uncovered, but at least the rest of your arm was hidden from prying eyes.
You catch your reflection in the water of the lake and stare. Something seemed missing about the armor, and you weren’t sure what. You had the gloves, the shoulder pads, the cuffs, the tunic, the belt- but you gasp when you realize what you were looking for. The silver armband, the one Sidon had gifted you so long ago, the one that always used to sit snug on your bicep. Of course, you had lost it during the ambush from the Yiga Clan, but you had worn it so often that seeing the Zora armor without it felt off to you.
With a groan you shake your head and begin to wade through the water. Now wasn’t the time for ridiculous thinking. The waterfall roars around you, the sound of the water becoming louder than your thoughts. You squeeze your eyes shut and walk through, hoping that this was the sanctum the children had been whispering about.
When you step out on the other side the sight before you is astounding. Brilliantly carved columns stretch high above you and luminous stones light the way further into the cave. The water and architecture were spotless, untainted by the sludge from the sky. It had been protected not only by Sidon’s efforts in Mipha Court but also due to the benefit of being sheltered by the cave.
You progress through the cave, using the armor to ascend a short waterfall. The feeling was odd, it had been so long since you’d had to do so that you’d forgotten the feeling. It was no less invigorating, however. You land upon a staircase and make your way further, trickling water and condensation causing a rhythmic pitter-patter. However, your admiring of the sanctum is quickly cut short once you arrive at the top of the steps.
King Dorephan is sitting before you in a large chair, not unlike his throne in the palace. Though you’re relieved to have found him, that relief quickly turns to horror as you realize the state that he’s in. His body is littered with bruises and scars and his scales are tainted with the muck from above. His breathing was haggard and he seemed to barely be able to keep his eyes open. The sludge glows and shifts along his form with an ominous purple glow.
He was sick.
“King Dorephan!” you exclaim in a panic as you rush forward, and you realize that Muzu, his faithful advisor, is standing by his side.
“Is that you?” the councilman questions with an air of suspicion, “so it is… how did you find this place? What cruel ploy are you plotting?”
You’re stunned by his accusation, so much so that you stumble backward. It was so unlike him- while many of the elders looked down on you with disdain, you thought that surely Muzu had grown to have a better opinion of you over the years. But perhaps you’d thought wrong…
From his seat, the king speaks up, though his voice is strained, “hold, my ever-loyal Muzu. If you speak in such a way without explanation, the champion here will only be confused as to what is going on.”
You swallow nervously. Clearly, there was something that you weren’t aware of.
Dorephan attempts to sit up straight, but you can tell the action causes him pain. There’s a pang in your heart as you watch, unable to do anything to help him. Surely there must have been attempts to heal him already- if he was stuck here like this, then the poison must have already afflicted him.
“Hello, _____. It has been some time since we last spoke,” he sighs, and though his eyes are softened you can see a hint of sadness in his expression, “I had received word that you went missing along with Princess Zelda. Why have you come here?”
You give an explanation of all that had happened to you, though this time it is significantly shortened- you fear that if you take too much time, his illness will only grow worse. He nods his head as he listens, a grim frown settling on his face.
“Well, well… to think that such a thing should transpire for the hero of Hyrule and Princess Zelda…” the king trails off.
Muzu, on the other hand, scoffs, “you expect us to believe that Princess Zelda simply disappeared, just like that. Do not sully our ears with your lies! I saw Princess Zelda with my own eyes just days after the phenomenon at Hyrule Castle took place!”
Your brow furrows with confusion. ‘What in Hylia’s name is he talking about? He couldn’t possibly have seen Zelda… unless… unless it was like the incident at the castle when she disappeared into a flash of light…’
“Calm yourself, Muzu,” Dorephan gently chastises his advisor, “her eyes betray no hint of deception. She remains a trusted friend of the Zora. There must be an explanation. I will now tell you what happened when we last saw Princess Zelda, as well as the reason behind my seclusion here in the Pristine Sanctum.”
“We encountered Princess Zelda days after Hyrule Castle ascended into the sky. Floating islands appeared as if from nowhere… sludge and fragments of ruins began raining down. Muzu and I had left the domain to investigate these strange occurrences. That is when it happened. Princess Zelda descended from the sky accompanied by a sludge monster. What happened next took us by surprise… she then unleashed the beast upon us.”
You were completely stunned by this. It made no sense. Not only had they seen the princess, but she had attacked them? This couldn’t be right- surely, surely there must have been something else. Someone else? Anything else? You were sure that Zelda would never do such a thing.
“King Dorephan valiantly vanquished the threat. However… he was gravely injured by the sludge during the battle,” Muzu continued, casting his gaze to the floor, “as for Princess Zelda, she vanished without a trace. If word got out that Princess Zelda lost her mind and harmed the Zora king… the resulting turmoil would be devastating. That is why we are temporarily remaining hidden within this sanctum.”
He was right. If anyone thought that the princess of Hyrule had attacked another leader it would spawn untold amounts of chaos. And it seemed that, until now, no one but the two of them had been aware. Not even Prince Sidon- he had only been informed that his father was sick.
“According to your story, Princess Zelda disappeared suddenly in the depths beneath Hyrule Castle,” Dorephan said softly, “on the other hand, she suddenly appeared near Zora’s Domain and unleashed a monster upon us. The waters of truth have become murkier still, but from the Zora perspective, one thing is clear.”
“It all leads back to the sky. The disaster, the sludge, the monster, even Princess Zelda. It may well be that the answer to these riddles can only be found skyward… Sidon ordered Jiahto to investigate, I wonder if any progress has been made…”
“He has!” you quickly pipe up, “we were able to uncover a stone slate near Toto Lake with mentions of a relationship between the Zora and the people of the skies. It says something about the ‘mark of the king’, which is why I came looking for you.”
At this, the king smiles, “ah! So you have already spoken with Jiahto! The mark of the king, you say… indeed, I do know of it. This refers to a Zora king’s scale. One of my scales, in other words. I have heard it called by the name you mentioned in an ancient ritual. However, none remain who know how it was used… If this particular scale of mine may prove useful to you, by all means, take a few.”
You watch as he lifts a shaky hand to his arm and plucks a few small scales from his bicep. You wince at the motion, cautiously approaching him as he holds his arm out to you. The scales are a brilliant blue with a pointed tip, faintly shimmering in the light from the luminous stones.
He notices your apprehension and chuckles, a genuine hearty laugh, “there is no need for restraint! This is nothing to me. If you run out, simply return and acquire more.”
You bow your head respectfully and utter your thanks, gently tucking the scales away into your bag.
“After all that has transpired, and after much reflection, I have come to a realization,” Dorephan sighs as he settles back in his chair, “I must truly be getting on in years to have allowed a mere monster to catch me off guard. Perhaps… the time is nearing for me to pass the title of king on to Sidon.”
Your eyes widen at this, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. If the prince were to ascend to the throne then… then that would only mean that his engagement to Yona would be certified as well, for she would become the queen the moment that he became king. You’re sure that your expression must be betraying you, you look away before either of them can see your shock.
“King Dorephan…” Muzu says gently.
“In any case, that is a matter for another day, after the chaos surrounding the sludge has quieted,” the king continues, turning his attention to you, “please inform Sidon about my situation and about the king’s scale. Tell him there is no need to worry about me. Tell him that he must go forth and do what needs to be done.”
You face him once more and nod firmly. Just as you begin to step away, though, the king utters one last thing.
“If I may…” he starts, his expression drawn into one of concern, “I do want to say that… I am sorry for how everything has transpired. I did not once want any harm to befall you or my son, but… it seems this arrangement has caused both of you a substantial amount of pain. I regret that I could not have been of more assistance…”
You open your mouth to respond, but quickly shut it tight. You do not trust yourself to speak wisely, nor do you trust your voice to remain unwavering. Instead, you politely bow, whisper a quick farewell, and then retreat from the sanctum as fast as your legs will carry you. Your heart pounds as you rush through the waterfall, and a quiet sob racks through you as you kneel in the water of the lake.
That apology from Dorephan threatened to be your breaking point. You allow yourself a matter of seconds to feel the rush of emotions. A wave of sadness washes over you, tightening your throat.
“Dammit,” you hiss under your breath, weakly hitting your fist against the lake bed, “... king. He’s going to be king. I should be happy for him- why can’t I be happy for him?”
You groan as you force yourself back to your feet. You splash your face with cool water, you double-check your supplies, and then you turn your attention to the mountaintop above you. It was time to return to Mipha Court.
You were going to have to face Sidon again.
~~~ <> ~~~
This took a little bit longer to get out than I was planning, sorry about that
You might be wondering, why, and the answer is uhhhh I was writing my first JJBA fanfic and it was supposed to be a one-shot and then it became 40k words long. So. Ahem. That's posted if you'd like to check it out (it's a Polnareff/reader) (I like the Frenchman a lot, he's silly)
Link to that fic
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#botw#breath of the wild#totk#tears of the kingdom#loz#fanfic#x reader#reader insert#female reader#prince sidon#prince sidon x reader#sidon x reader
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Part 4
“In regards to consequences for Hades’ absence, I think we are all in agreement with you, Allmother. However… there is another issue. My adopted daughter Rey has been in telepathic communication with me all this time, describing in detail her encounter with Hades and Ambrosia prior to us coming here. I… can not in good conscience leave an issue revealed by that meeting unaddressed. Rey. I give you the floor.”
Rey nodded, then stepped forward and kneeled to the Allmother “greatest of divine beings of this universe, this is our first meeting. I wish it could end without an issue coming up, but unfortunately that is not possible.” The Allmother closed her eyes to listen more closely without visual distraction. Rey continued “earlier today, I found Ambrosia stopped on her way to the palace of friendship in Ponyville. She seemed terrified, and I have a strong urge to defend those I care about, even including those I have never personally met. Ambrosia is a good friend of mine, so I approached to see if I could help in some way. When she noticed me, she asked that I not intervene as Hades appeared behind her, then they both vanished. My guardian soul was incapable of accepting the situation, so I used my psychic powers to track down her mental patterns and went to them. When I arrived, she and Hades were just getting started on what they termed an employee review. But to my thinking, it quickly got out of hoof and I feared Hades would do irreversible harm to her, so I came between them. Hades was openly hostile and exhibited an attitude of superiority towards me from the second I appeared in view, and even learning I was the adopted daughter of Harmonia did little to change his behavior towards me, only causing him to withdraw a threat upon my life. Allmother, am I correct to assume this sort of conduct is… unbecoming of a divine?”
“Extremely so.” Was the reply, and the Allmother opened eyes full to bursting with an implacable rage. Eyes that she turned on Hades. “An air of superiority? An obvious inclination towards believing you are better than mortal beings? I am willing to excuse your absence from recent crises due to your passion for finding Vitalia, but this… disgusting behavior is utterly INEXCUSABLE. I CREATED THE GIFTS AND PURPOSES OF MY DIVINE CHILDREN SO THEY COULD SERVE MY OTHER CHILDREN WHEN I COULD NOT, COULD GUIDE AND PROTECT THEM IN MY STEAD. THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE PERVERSION OF MY INTENTION AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT. That being said, though I would dearly like to right now, relieving Hades of his divine purpose at this time might still do more harm than good.” She turned her eyes from Hades to look at the rest of us “of all the divine purposes in this universe, of all the realms that exist to be overseen by divine beings, that of death is by far the least desirable and the least compatible with most beings.” She again looked at Hades “if I were to relieve you of this divinity, it would be decades if not centuries or even millennia before I could find another to fulfill the role. During that time, the realm of death would be without an overseer, without one who could use absolute power to solve issues that could come up. As I have already said, the wall crumbling is actually not that severe an issue in the grand scheme of things. There are other problems that could occur that would be far worse. In all the history of this world, there has never been an era when there was no divine of death. Vitalia, if she were here to say so, could truthfully claim to be the last of my firstborn sons and daughters. Hades can likewise truthfully claim to be the last of my second born. He is almost as ancient a being as Vitalia. There are but a few short hours between them.”
I nodded in understanding as Hades stood before us, his head low to the floor at this point. Looking at him, I could easily see he was deeply regretful that he had disappointed the Allmother so badly. I looked at the Allmother, wondering if there was a way to prevent the era she plainly feared from beginning, when an amazing idea came to me. “Allmother, would you permit me to whisper in your ear? I think I might have an idea for an appropriate penalty.”
The Allmother looked at me and nodded, after which I flew up to her ear and whispered my idea to her. When I finished, there was a satisfied smile on her face. “Harmonia. Twilight Sparkle. I gave you the gift of great intellectual talent on the day you were born for just this very kind of situation. Thank you for using it to help everyone in this moment.”
I bowed my head before flying back down to the others.
The Allmother looked at Hades and said “Harmonia has proposed a most impressive idea. A way to penalize you, but with a chance that you will remain divine and be inclined to learn to be a better divine so you might remain so. If I choose to enact Harmonias idea, would you be accepting of that choice as it impacts you?”
Hades sighed and said “I wonder if it is even worth it. The sight of you so enraged with me, the realization of how badly I have disappointed you. Do I deserve a second chance?”
The Allmother smiled “based on what you have just said, I believe it is worth it. You are stubborn, my eldest living son of Equeus. But clearly, you can learn if given the chance. So I shall give that chance to you.” With that, the Allmother’s eyes glowed as Hades did likewise. The Allmother raised a hoof to a position like she was holding something above it and a stream of energy flowed from Hades to form an orb above her hoof. A moment later the stream ended, Hades sighing and shivering a little as he felt how diminished his divine power was. Diminished, but not gone. I smiled. My idea had worked. The world still had a divine of death, though he was much weaker than before. The Allmother nodded “good. I’ll admit I was worried for a moment. If you hadn’t learned anything from this experience, Hades, this orb would be made up of the entirety of your divinity. As things stand, there is still divinity in you, though much diminished. You will have to commit a much larger portion of your power to a task to achieve the same results as before. However, there is a way for you to reverse this change. If you continue to learn, continue to move back to the type of divine being I can approve of, this energy that I hold in my hoof will return to you in amounts suitable to what you have learned. And, to aid you in this process, Harmonia has offered to teach you.”
Hades looked at me in surprise. I smiled and said “at one point before I became Princess Twilight Sparkle, I had an ambition to become a teacher. To share my knowledge with those who could carry it into the future when my mortal life had ended. Then I became a princess and along with becoming an immortal Alicorn, I became a princess and had to dedicate myself to that life in place of my former ambitions. I wouldn’t change anything, mind, save maybe the immortal part. In any case, I studied the art of teaching before I became a princess, so I should be able to effectively help you.”
Hades smiled and nodded “I accept. And for what it is worth, I would like to apologize for how many friends you have lost in your immortal lifetime. But death is a necessary part of existence, and not even I can change that.”
I nodded in understanding “thank you for the apology.”
The Allmother nodded, then said “fair warning, Hades. There is a flip side to your new adjustment. If you relapse into your less appropriate attitude, your divinity will continue to diminish, until you have been rendered, for the first time in your life, completely mortal. For the sake of your realm, please don’t let this happen. That is all. You will momentarily be sent back to whence and when you came here. Harmonia. I’m counting on you to fulfill your promise. Make my wayward son a divine I can be proud of again.”
I nodded and with that, we returned to the mortal realm. Hades has been staying in Ponyville since then, learning from his mistakes and growing as a divine. I can tell that his power is growing by the day. I can only hope he continues this trend of improvement. That’s it for this story. See you all next time.
#askthepsychicofponyville#ask me anything#ask blog#original character#mlp#rey#ambrosia#hades#Allmother
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— ADDICTION & SUBSTANCE ABUSE
Maybe unsurprisingly, BJ has always been high risk of developing problems with addiction. Placing this headcanon under the cut for one mention of child abuse and suicide. As always, please take warnings on this blog seriously.
BJ's substance abuse problems first began to take root at eight years old. BJ was regularly whipped or beaten, sometimes for punishment, sometimes out of cruel amusement, and Laws rarely allowed a doctor to see the boy for fear that his abuse might be found out. Instead, in the guise of mercy and forgiveness for an imagined sin, he allowed BJ alcohol or strong painkillers once he was satisfied with BJ's repentance. It was then that BJ learned that drinks and pills could help ease more than just physical pain.
Eventually, BJ began to sneak Laws' alcohol on the rare occasions he was left home alone. He was careful not to take too much, knowing Laws wouldn't be happy to find he'd stolen from him, but enough to dull his senses and make it easier to mentally and emotionally escape. Once BJ ran away from Laws at fourteen, he began smoking tobacco (or marijuana if he could get it) to soothe his nerves. Gradually, this built into trying harder and harder drugs, with cocaine and heroin being the most sought after.
BJ's growing addictions helped him run from his reality, but only served to worsen the grim fantasies in his head. Hallucinations, nightmares, and gaps in his memory were quickly exacerbated by his substance abuse until it became almost impossible for him to identify what was real and what wasn't. His time running with the Spencer Boys gang from the mid-'70s to 1980 enabled and encouraged his abuse.
By 1981, BJ was admitted into a psychiatric hospital. BJ can't remember much about how he got there or why, but the nurses claimed he'd been brought after suffering a psychotic break and attempting to kill himself. He later learned that his stay was being financially overseen by Reverend Martin Laws who, presumably, had him admitted, though the reverend only bothered to visit him once in the two and a half years that BJ would stay there. BJ managed to get clean and was released in 1983.
1984 and onward, BJ found that killing Laws hadn't killed the trauma he left him with. He currently struggles hard with relapsing, but has yet to sink as far back into addiction as he had during the '70s.
*This headcanon won't change much for his modern verse beyond dates.
#child abuse for ts#suicide for ts#substance abuse for ts#addiction for ts#lived to tell the tale [headcanons];
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☼☾ ( SHELLEY HENNIG , 32 , SHE/HER , CISWOMAN, FOX PÚCA ) - have you seen LORELAI ‘RORY’ FELL? they’ve been living in afon vale for FOUR YEARS and they really think they’re safe. people say that they’re ENDURING but i heard they’re IMPULSIVE. you can usually find them working as a BARTENDER at KINGS & QUEENS. they’ve tried hard to keep FLEEING THEIR EX-BOYFRIEND buried but the truth always comes out. a few things that remind me of them are … the bittersweet burn of tequila down the throat, fingers stained black with ink, the scent of engine oil lingering on her skin.
triggers: death, murder, abuse
born and raised new yorker, rory grew up to a single mother in brooklyn. her dad had died when she was seven years old, just after her brother was born.
while their mother was human, both she and her brother were púca thanks to the gene inherited by their father.
without the guiding hand of their púca father, rory and her brother were taught little about their species and were raised as essentially human children. she grew to fear the animal side of herself and avoided changing as much as possible. though she was a warm, friendly, great kid - she was scared she’d hurt people so she kept her distance. instead, her little brother was her everything. she practically raised him as their mom had to work a lot to take care of them.
about eight years ago, rory learned about a fox collective in new york. knowing little about her kind, she didn't understand that the way the collective functioned was not how they were supposed to - instead of the true way of the collective, this group was overseen by a leader and he saw the world in a darker way. he believed that humans were beneath them, not to be protected. and though rory did not agree, she had fallen in love with another member of the collective and he was a devout follower.
nick, her then boyfriend, taught her all the fun of being púca - he showed her that being the animal was a whole other life. but he was also hot tempered, violent, and obsessive. he wanted rory to be his at all times. feeling suffocated and scared of who the boy she loved had become, she aligned herself with some local hunters and gave them intel on how to take down the collective.
believing nick had been killed, rory thought that her family was safe - that she had escaped him. but instead he had fled the fight and stayed out of new york to keep off the hunters radar.
over the years her ex-boyfriend became obsessed with her, believing that the only reason she’d left him was because of her family holding her back. one day when rory came home from work, she found her mother dead and her brother dying. she interrupted her ex in the act and managed to save her brother but he was badly injured.
rory and her brother ran from new york, wanting to put as many miles between them and nick as possible. around 4 years ago, they came to afon vale and have settled here since.
for the most part, she is a friendly, charming, fun girl. her experiences with nick did damage her for romantic relationships and trusting púca but her friendship with aoife overcame part of that. she is generally pretty open to most people and tries not to see the worst in them.
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Very Small Announcement
Tonight I will be posting the hierarchy and rank changes found in Ever Rain, and then start on uploading Shoreshimmers information! Clan information will be separated into a few different posts ; overview > traditions, rites, festivals > beliefs > territory and notable locations > historical information.
Overview will be an overview of EVERYTHING within a Clan, and will contain all of the above. But because it is a lot of information to try and cram All of it into one post, I am further delving into each subsection in their own posts. Each Clans post will utilize the Clans banner and be tagged with the Clans tag for easy organization!
A website will also be in the works to allow things to be more organized, as I know tumblrs search system is not... the greatest. And chasing links between posts will begin to get overwhelming, and I don't want that to be the case!
For additional news, it has been decided that there will be six total High Rank Adoptables ; two from Shoreshimmer, and one from each other Clan. The remaining six High Rank spots will be open for applicants to apply for with their own OCs!
I do not currently have most adoptables set in stone, the only three out of six that are confirmed so far are Shoreshimmers Seabound Deputy, Jellydrift and Landbound Leader, Minkstar, and Thornrushs Apothecary Lichensting!
A brief overview for each; Art will be included in their own individual posts!
Jellydrift | AMAB | Gender, Sexuality and Pronouns up to Adopter | 34 Moons | Shoreshimmer Seabound Deputy
Jellydrift is the newly appointed Seabound Deputy after the late Sandsong, who perished when a riptide swept him out to sea and ultimately drowned him. This does nothing to assauge Jellydrift's secret, deep seeded fear of the vast and powerful ocean. After an incident with the sea as an apprentice [applicants choice], Jellydrift has felt a fear that they cannot shake of the vast expanse of ocean the Clan lives and dies by. And now they've found themselves in the Seabound Deputy position, a decision that they think is surely a cruel twist of irony and fate. Despite this, they try their best, willing to not let the icy grip of fear overcome their want to do right by their Clan, ever attentive and helpful wherever they can be. Will the pressure inevitably pull them under and drown them, or will they rise like the tides in the Clans hour of need?
Minkstar | AFAB | Gender, Sexuality and Pronouns up to Adopter | 110 Moons | Shoreshimmer Landbound Leader
While their muzzle and paws are fading to white and the signs of age are showing in their bones and pelt, Minkstar has not lost their ferocity and zest for life. Being the Landbound Leader, Minkstar has overseen the hunting and care for the estuaries and tidal marshes for many, many years. Having ascended to leadership during their prime, they are widely respected within Shoreshimmer Clan and widely trusted to have the Clans best interest in mind, having led them through the toughest of storms and scarcities. While there may be an occasional rumor among other Clans about their age and ability to lead, Minkstar simply dismisses these with a flick of their tail and mildly irritated expression. Quiet and observant, they watch over their Clan and the land of their territory with resolve that can only be described as tough as stone. As they get older, though, the Clan notes that they have been becoming more and more distant and stony in demeanor. Minkstar refuses to step down at the request of their Apothecary and medics, claiming that they have many more years of life in them and that this fuss is over nothing. Will they keep a cool head and lead their Clan through the long winter successfully, and will this reassure their Clans faith in them? Or will their willpower begin to crumble, leading them to sabotage other Clans to ensure their own success in the eyes of their Clan?
Lichensting | AFAB | Gender, Sexuality and Pronouns up to Adopter | 26 Moons | Thornrush Apothecary
To kick up a wasps nest or knock loose a hornets hive is what it is like to be on the receiving end of Lichensting's prickly personality. Often referred to by their peers as a 'warrior medic', Lichensting forewent their Prowler position within Thornrush after the devastating death of a [important figure, up to Adopter], of which they attempted to heal them, to no avail. Their limited medical knowledge drove them further and further away from the life of a Prowler and toward the life of a Medic. After the previous Apothecary stepped down, Lichensting was chosen from the medics of the Clan to take up the mantle. This foray into medical knowledge did not strip them of their warrior capabilities, though, and Lichensting is often among the front lines of skirmishes or predator ambushes to either attack or aid, or oftentimes, both. They show little fear in the face of adversity, and does not easily bend to others requests or demands. This oncoming long winter will push them to their medical capability limits as herbs begin to die and clanmates fall ill. Will they take on the challenge of making due with what they have? Or will they use their warrior capabilites to strong arm their way into other Clan territories to get what their Clan needs most?
More information will be available once adoptables officially roll out, but I'm excited to share the barebones of these three in the meantime!
As always, if you have any questions, concerns or suggestions, please do not be afraid to reach out to me through the inbox or DMs!
#gen. info#wcrp#for hierarchy changes it's very limited things that have been changed! and unique ranks for each Clan as well#adopts#tagging this now for future reference!
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Planes of Existence: Lower Planes
It's time, last 3 planes, time to go evil mode.
The Lower Planes are those that are aligned with "evil". They are places where they strong take, and the weak are less than worthless. To be compassionate in any of the lower planes is to be a liability or a fool, or both. Everything is done to better oneself, no matter the impact on others, and in many cases to bring harm to another is the primary goal.
Physically, The Lower Planes are unique in that they are somewhat tangibly connected to each other geographically (mostly), at least more than other planes. Their designation as seperate 'planes' is closer to a formality, as the characteristics of the Lower Planes are more unorthodox, being made of multiple layers.
Dimensional geography is weird to explain. just trust me, you can walk from abyss to avernus. well actually no it'd be really hard to do that, but theoretically you could.
The Nine Hells
The Nine Hells (or simply The Hells) is the plane of Lawful Evil. It consists of a heirarchy of rigid rules and policies, overseen by the courts of devils. Trickery and loopholes are the only way to gain power in The Hells, and devils are constantly attempting to outsmart each other in their games of legality to gain an upper hand.
The Hells is also a final destination for many mortal souls, as they are sent there during sorting by The Raven Queen, if she believes it is what they deserve. Souls are valuable currency for Devils, who use them to trade, barter, and bribe. A more virtuous soul is more valuable, but very few souls of such a nature find their way to The Hells, usually only by accident or through infernal pacts.
Geographically, The Nine Hells are composed of, shockingly, 9 Layers, that all have their own features, but are generally desolate and unwelcoming. The most notable, and topmost layer, is Avernus, the location of the River Styx and site of The Blood War.
Speaking of, the River Styx is the river of blood, souls, and molten rock found at the centre of Avernus, seperating it from the rest of the nine layers, and must be crossed by souls being sent to The Hells. To do so safely, they are of course gathered and transported by the boatman of Avernus, but I'm not sure if I want to say too much about them in this post ;)
The other main notable feature of Avernus in particular is The Blood War, which is the everlasting war between Devils and Demons, who hail from the Abyss. Demons come to The Hells in search of souls to consume, and are repelled by infernal forces. This war is fought across Avernus, as the ranks of the demonic forces constantly replenish in number.
Lastly, but certainly not least, while The Hells are overseen by many courts of Devils and Archdevils, the ruler of The Nine is Asmodeus, the Prince of Evil, who rules from the lowest layer of the hells, where he was trapped after both The Divine War and The Descension. His reign is constantly beset by usurpers who attempt to outsmart him, though the operative word there is "attempt". Singular.
Gehenna
Gehenna is the plane of Neutral Evil. It is a desolate landscape where no joy is to be found, only pure misery and hate.
Gehenna is the "no-mans land" that sits between The Hells and The Abyss. It is a barren, ashen wasteland where Demons slowly maraud towards The Hells, and Devils who have been banished for whatever reason are sent.
The Abyss
Abyss is the plane of Chaotic Evil. It is a realm of pure terror, where wanton violence and unbridled malice reign.
Similarly to The Hells, Abyss is made of multiple layers, but rather than being limited to 9, the layers of Abyss are fathomless, with recorded numbers reaching the hundreds to thousands, with a possible infinite more unrecorded. Each layer of Abyss is a unique type of dreadful, a microcosm of fear and evil.
The Demons of the Abyss grow stronger by killing those weaker than them, feeding upon their life essence or souls, and as such are in constant battle. A few demons who grow exceptionally strong are known as Demon Lords, and can appear similar to minor deities in their strength and abilities.
A myriad of such Lords exist, but the highlights include Demogorgon, Orcus, Yeenoghu, Baphomet, and Graz'zt, though many more obscure, though no less powerful, Lords exist.
The Abyss is even where a few of the Architect Gods were sealed, and they have shaped their respective layers, examples including Gruumsh and Lolth (my belobed).
One of the few things that is absolutely certain about the Abyss is that Tharizdun, the Chained Oblivion, God of destruction, is trapped at its very bottom.
And that's the Lower Planes, and all of them! I really really have a lot to say about the Lower Planes, they have really cool, well developed lore, though I've made some changes here and there. I could definitely dedicate whole other posts to topics touched on here, like the River Styx, and Demon Lords, but we'll see.
So, with the planes done, that rounds out everything I have to say on the world from a cosmological standpoint, which is probably a good thing considering a lot of it isn't actually my own writing and worldbuilding, just adapted and frankensteined from other d&d material.
So, until next time! Where I might talk about something way smaller scale, like idk imma talk about Okshore or some shit.
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There was logic in Aemond's words, and it was far more than most she had heard before. He did not speak on assumption alone, and she was quick to pick up on that. Though relatively young, one look at him and she could see that he had seen more shit than most ever would in a lifetime. Not the everyday royal used to the constant flattery and pandering that came with having power at his fingertips, but something lived and experienced in the same way Karlach herself had. Well, not precisely the same way. She knew how to wield her anger and had become useful to those she offered her axe to.
Aemond would be no different, she knew. Though she had yet to bear witness to Kings Landing and it's plethora of streets, she had little doubt that she would like it. She loved cities, though she had complained when she had been little that she was never allowed to leave hers. It would be easy for her to be stolen away by someone, her mother said. Carried off into the Underdark by the drow and never to be seen again! She liked to joke that it was that fear in girlhood that made her as brave as she was, but having seen the worst of what humanity had to offer at times, she knew that was how she had been forged as a soldier.
Against her better judgement, Karlach let her body language slacken. It no longer reflected the initial, somewhat nervous posture she had assumed, but allowed her shoulders to drop and her hands to fall at her side, idling. He was nothing quite like she expect. Not cold and indifferent, as she had been told to expect.
It was then that she looked at him, and looked fully. An intelligent eye, sharp features, hair as silvery as a moon. It was rumoured that Targaryen blood showed beautifully in others, and Karlach found that she agreed. Not out loud. That she had the good grace to keep to herself, and would never let see the light of day.
"If you think about it, a city is made by the folks that live inside it. From the beggars to the merchants, the breweries and tradesmen. You might not have noticed it, but the heart of a city is in its people, overseen by the kings and queens and what have you." Not quite a black and white way of thinking, but coming from the poorest of the poor, and having clawed her way up from entirely untouchable to one of the most sought after axe for hire. Fearless, to a degree. Combat smart. Not quite as well-read as some of the knights she'd known. "I think as long as there's a need and want for power, there will always be wars.
Plenty of folks to fight in them too. Not all of them willing, but able to, as well." There was a small clear of her throat. "I guess I fight because there are folks who can't fend for themselves. Especially back home. Once saw a silk merchant try to fight a sailor that came in with a shipment. Poor sod's nose always looked wonky after that."
She was rambling. Anecdotes were not what he was after. Professionalism and proving that she was worth sending halfway across the fucking world? That was likely what he was looking for. A hand raised to scratch sheepishly at her jaw again. A hard habit to kick, but she felt relief as the conversation shifted.
"Oh yeah, quite the little heartbreaker," the tiefling grinned. She did not expect him to be quite so heartfelt, and it caught her by surprise. Karlach's smile, though a little clumsy, and a little stupid, softened around its edges. "Trust me, quite a few have tried and failed." One Enver Gortash, if her violent information gathering had steered her right, had fled to Westeros after his failed ascension to power. Head bowed and with Karlach hot on his tail ... "My heart's about as steady as it could be. Stubborn, too. Almost to a fault." She paused, again and moved to catch Aemond's eye. "And I fully intend on being someone a little too big to swallow in one go."
He listened in silence as she spoke of home, of simpler times, of a life that seemed worlds apart from the one he had known. There was something disarming about the way she described her memories, the warmth of her words painting a picture of a city bustling with life. It was a foreign concept to him, this attachment to a place of warmth, sweetness, and laughter. His own memories were of cold halls, silent shadows, and the ever-present weight of duty that pressed upon his shoulders from the moment he could walk.
The affection she held for her city, the connection to her parents buried there, stirred something within him that he did not care to examine too closely. Family, for him, had always been more of an obligation than a comfort. His loyalty to his blood was unshakable, but it was a loyalty born from necessity, not sentiment. Hearing Karlach speak so freely of her love for her city, her home, reminded him how distant his own affections were from such things.
Her eyes found his again, and he met her gaze, unflinching, as if to remind her that whatever warmth or humour she offered, it would not soften him. He had spent years honing himself into something unyielding, something that did not bend in the face of sentiment. But still, there was something about her openness that intrigued him, something that made him wonder what it was like to carry the kind of light she seemed to bear so effortlessly.
" You speak of home as if it is a living thing, " he remarked, his voice quiet yet measured. " As if it breathes life into those who dwell within it. " He paused, considering his next words. " For many, home is simply where the war has not reached yet. " There was no malice in his tone, only the grim reality of a man who had seen too much conflict, too much death. " But I suppose the idea of fighting for something more than land or titles is not entirely foreign. Perhaps that is why so many continue to follow their banners, despite knowing they will never see the end of the battle. "
Her mention of her axe brought a faint, almost imperceptible smile to his lips. It was clear that the weapon was more than just a tool to her; it was an extension of herself, a reflection of her history as a warrior. He could respect that. He, too, had weapons that carried memories and bore scars of their own. Her eagerness to prove herself was palpable, and in that, they shared a common ground. The battlefield was where truths were revealed, where words mattered little and actions spoke volumes.
" You will have your chance to prove yourself, " he said after a moment, his tone shifting to something more decisive. " Wars are not won by words alone. When the time comes, I will see if your axe can match the resolve you speak of. " There was no challenge in his voice, only a cold certainty. He did not doubt her bravery, but bravery alone was not enough in the chaos of battle. It was endurance, skill, and the ability to make hard decisions that determined who survived and who did not.
As she shifted her weight, her restless energy becoming more apparent, he studied her again. She was a force of nature, brimming with vitality, the kind that could only come from someone who had lived through hardships and emerged stronger for it. She was different from anyone he had met, and though he was not one to trust easily, he found himself curious, perhaps even eager, to see how her fire would burn when tested by the flames of war.
Her self-deprecating humour drew a faint twitch of amusement from him, though he did not let it fully manifest. " A sought-after heart, you say? " He mused, arching a brow. " I do not doubt it. " The remark was spoken lightly, though his eye lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. " But in these times, it is rare to find someone whose heart remains in the right place, as you claim. That may be your greatest strength...or your greatest vulnerability. "
There was no malice in the statement, only the harsh reality of the world they both found themselves in. He had seen too many betray their own hearts in pursuit of power, survival, or vengeance. Perhaps Karlach's heart was different, perhaps it was as steadfast as she claimed. Time would tell.
" Do not let it be broken too easily, " he added, his voice taking on a slightly softer edge. " For if it is, this world will swallow you whole. "
#eyeofvengeance#fuck yes — now I just need something to sink my teeth into. — [ in character. ]#war is a bloody & soulless thing. — [ v: house of the dragon. ]
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By all means, avoid it if it makes you uncomfortable, because it is really dark, but I for one thoroughly enjoy Mohg/Miquella as non-consensual incestuous somnophilia with his (initial) physical appearance adding to how creepy it looks (though, he’s older than Malenia, and though it wouldn’t stop him, I don’t feel that’s why he’s attracted to Miquella, I mean look at how he’s transforming him after all, he’s big now)
(And yes, I know there are other interpretations, but bare minimum it is kidnapping+incest, and I do personally read it as something sexual myself, and think its very easy to read that way.)
I do wish people didn’t act like incest/sexual assault devalues everything about the relationship, I think its an interesting aspect of it that I wish more people explored in depth. I don’t think its purely for “shock value” or anything? Mohg is a weird character in that he seems almost comically evil, but when you look into him, you can see what might have led to it all. There’s a lot going on there.
First is how his reaction to being born an omen with accursed blood is the opposite of Morgott’s, he’s fully embracing it- and the omen set describes someone as vile as the Dung Eater as having “the heart of an omen”, and Mohg is fully embracing everything people expect of them, so is it any wonder that he’d act as such?
And also, being unloved and shackled in the sewers, I think he has a sense of having to take what he wants by force, including love. He starts a cult where kidnapping was clearly involved (the surgeons for sure, and even the merchant) and if Varre is to be believed, has quite the focus on love. And he DID get Varre’s love by force in a way, I mean he was kidnapped and yet look at how he is now. (he seems to also have a twisted sense of love, and I do wonder if he was unloved as well when he was younger, but that’s a post for another time)
So Miquella as well- there are genuine feelings for him, but they are twisted and obsessive. It could have started because of how Miquella is known for charming people as well as how he created a place that was a haven for the unwanted. but Mohg felt he needs to take him all for himself, raising him to a god to gain the power and love he was deprived. And he won’t let that slip out of his grasp, so he becomes possessive of Miquella. And I feel like he honestly believes he can force Miquella to love him as well, by the way he acts like his lover, with softly spoken words showing the depths of his feelings. and if he constantly stays by his side and sleeps with him, surely Miquella will come to love him in return. In his eyes, forcing himself on Miquella is a display of his “love”. If he just keeps at it, he’ll be accepted and Miquella will wake up and he can begin his Dynasty with him. It’s not a sane way of thinking at all, but the man is even described as a lunatic. But you can see what led him to be like that.
(I feel that Miquella refusing to respond is an act of defiance, because he doesn’t love Mohg in return, and actively wants to prevent him from getting what he wants. I don’t feel Mohg is being actively manipulated since the transformation Miquella is undergoing likely has the influence of the Formless Mother, an outer god, and I think he would want nothing to do with that. He may have a lot of potential, but being in the cocoon was a vulnerable state.)
#i do however kinda like the interpretation of him going along with mohg's abuse for malenia's sake and accepting that transformation#though fearing it being overseen by him#but i don't think its quite my headcanon i just like it as well#anyway that's not the main point#in short i love this pairing and i love it BECAUSE its really dark#and i wish more people would explore the depth behind such vile actions#this got long wow#if this is grrm's influence i would like to say thank you because its so interesting to see such a dark relationship#and what could have led to it!#mohg flirting techniques- give them stockholm syndrome#and regardless of how you feel about the pairing DONT BE RUDE TO ARTISTS#twitter comments of any popular art of them are so goddamn rude!!#like if people want to draw them cutesy that's fine they are not real people they are fictional characters#ER tag
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More LU thoughts:
Duels
There’s a part in my fic Smoke Signal where in order to discourage Wild from leaving the group alone Time challenges him to a duel. I didn’t really explain the concept further other than it being a big deal that Time was issuing one and that there was no way Wild was going to agree to it. So, I’m gonna dive into it more here:
The concept of duelling would at first only be familiar to the trained knights and sailor. Btw, a duel in this case is a one on one fight where both opponents use the same agreed upon weapon, rapiers and broadswords are the most common. Conditions are set and the winner/loser has to follow through on whatever those terms are.
Warriors would be the most knowledgeable, with it being an established custom within and outside the army. As a Captain, he may have overseen such fights between his men whenever they disagreed over something. Regarding duels outside the army, these would be a thing within the upper class where nobles would issue such challenges to protect their honour or over Lady. Since Warriors is popular amongst women I’d imagine that many a jealous nobleman challenged him due to this.
Wild would have a vague memory of this tradition, he may have participated in some in the past- back when he took it extremely seriously. Now however, since the army was crippled during the past 100 years it isn’t really a thing anymore, so it’s seen as outdated. Even though he doesn’t inherently take them seriously, if someone he respects/fears challenges him he won’t even think about joking around.
In Skyloft duels are part of rising the ranks. They aren’t fought to settle disputes or for honour, they’re just used to grade performances and your progression in training. Any sort of fighting outside of training is very rare and generally frowned upon.
Wind would’ve gotten introduced to it after spending time on Tetra’s ship. It’s the best way to maintain order as well as for the crewmates to let of steam after days of uneventful sailing. He also doesn’t take them too seriously since pirates don’t follow any sort of fancy rules and will fight dirty if it means securing a win:
Wind: Then he used that moment of weakness to break his nose!
Hyrule: Over a missing pair of boots?!
Wind: [shrugging] Eh, he was fine after a couple of potions.
Warriors: [overhearing] That just sounds like a drunken brawl, not a duel.
Wind: All’s fair at sea my friend.
Warriors: Would you fight that dishonourably if I challenged you?
Wind:
Wind: Depends.
Warriors: [disappointed mentor noises]
Time, Twilight and Legend would be vaguely familiar with the concept, both having some experience dealing with the Hyrulean Knights in their eras. They’re both sort of on the outside looking in, so while they respect the custom unlike Wild they also don’t have any personal stakes in them. So, they’ll generally accept any challenges, but won’t issue them since it doesn’t mean that much to them.
Hyrule and Four however would be clueless. They’d have zero frame of reference for how these things work, and where Four wouldn’t be all that interested Hyrule would. Warriors would teach him all the rules and conditions, possibly trying to get Wild to pay attention too.
The chain would have proper duels once everyone’s gotten an understanding of the rules. Mostly when sparring got boring or very rarely to solve a serious disagreement, like in Smoke Signal. Though most of the time it would be over the pettiest of disputes:
Legend: Who ate my leftovers?!
Wild: I did.
Legend: [drawing sword] En guarde glutton!
Wild: [drawing sword] Come at me quitter!
~~~
Thanks for reading!
Masterlist
9th place in the LU character design ranking
Character analysis posts:
Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors
Parkour team - LU drabble
How each member of the chain laughs - LU headcanon
#the sailor doesn't fight fair is he doesn't have to#warriors is able to keep the duels civil#barely#legend will fight you over food#linked universe#lu#linkeduniverse#lu thoughts#lu drabble#linked universe headcanons#lu headcanons#lu fic ideas#lu chain#lu time#lu sky#lu warriors#lu hyrule#lu four#lu legend#lu twilight#lu wild#lu wind
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from sea of flowers, garden of eternity 『4』 | xiao
pairing | xiao/reader
word count | 1.6k
genre | soft fluff, slight angst, developing relationship
warnings | mentions of blood, vague suggestiveness if you squint
[previous] [next, coming soon]
Your voice would not always reach him—this Xiao painfully learned the hard way. But, ever the diligent one, he actively looked for a way to change that.
Quiet footsteps patter on the floor accompanied by the tender melody of little bells. It’s a sound Xiao first thought was ridiculous when the suggestion was proposed by Cloud Retainer. But now, it’s become an endearing part of you that he locks away in his closed off heart as a favorite detail to remember.
“Xiao?” He hears you call just as you set foot into the room he resides in.
The adeptus’ eyes flicker over to you, and a brief fondness flashes across them at the soft jingle from the little bells that hang from your collar as you come to a halt. You remind him of a cat like this. Ever curious, ever endearing.
Completely ruling over his heart as much as he may not know it.
He hums to let you know he’s listening, eyes closed as he rests on a lounge chair in the living room.
There’s a slight drag of your feet, minor hesitation in every other step you take. With enhanced adeptal senses, it’s a little easier to pick up on.
Step. Step. Twinkle of a bell, just a little louder than the others. Step. Pause. Step. Step.
“What is it? Something wrong?” Xiao asks, eyes opening to meet your subtly shy expression.
Your hand goes to rub at the delicate fabric over your thigh in small circles, easing some of the tingling pain that was starting. The mumble is soft, slightly embarrassed and strained, “Adeptal energy… imbalance…”
“Come here,” he indicates, voice soft as he holds a hand out invitingly.
The little bells around your neck jingle happily as you make your way over and sit in his lap. A bold move on your part, if he was being honest. He notes how easily your legs give out as soon as you are on him.
Again… You had tried to withstand the pain for as long as you could again.
“Again?” Xiao more so states than asks. He sighs out through his nose, a little irked at your failure to heed his warnings.
You gnaw your lip, casting down your gaze as guilt pricks your conscience.
It’s quiet— the sigh your solem guardian releases. He’s not upset, not really. There’s only ever worry for your safety and the fear of your fragile life withering away from one overseen detail.
He couldn’t bear to lose you.
The minutes tick by in silence, your face buried in his shoulder as his hand rests between your bare shoulder blades. A warmth pulses from his palm to your very being’s core. It’s painfully slow, but a pleasant idleness nonetheless.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shoulder after a while.
Comfort was never Xiao’s area of expertise. Still, he only takes a few moments to carefully select his words.
“No, you did… well. You approached me to ask for help.” His other free hand rubs soothing little circles on the thigh that straddles him. “You’re doing well.”
Though the gentleness of his words strike a chord in your naive heart, it’s a sweet moment that is quickly soured. You wince at a sudden spike of pain in your legs, collar ringing a soft melody from the sudden jerk. The pain is sudden, a little unbearable, but easily washes over and away.
These aren’t alarming, nor are they anything new. They're simply routine day to day issues you encounter. Xiao is always sure to hold you through it with his best shot at reassurance.
“Are you certain this isn’t too… excruciatingly slow…?” Xiao asks carefully, focus diligently unbroken where the skin of his fingertips meets yours.
“I should be fine in a few minutes.”
You sit back with a reassuring smile as you readjust the sash of your intricate garment. If your body was mostly stable by now, then it would be safe to say you had about half a day before the pain came back. Though his mind was filled with doubt, his heart wanted to trust your judgement.
It’s quiet throughout the little cottage as he gets ready to set off into his nightly routine. Long since had you gone to sleep among a sea of warm blankets. The adeptus had promised to come keep watch after his duties were over, only to receive that grateful smile he longed for.
“I’ll leave a bath prepared for you, in case you decide to join me in bed,” you had suggested, cheeks dusted a lovely shade of red at your vague proposal.
A silent nod was his answer, ears warmer by the second as he turned to leave.
The night is as clear and unbroken as the surface of a lake's water in the winter. And among the evil forces that have been subdued, Xiao stands staring at the moon’s reflection on the water’s surface. There was a faint trace of worry, only confirmed by the distant sounds of your collar bells.
‘A collar whose sound one may gently hear from across the lands of Teyvat when it’s wearer is in dire need,’ Cloud Retainer had briefly described.
It’s faint—intermingling with the night breeze like a windchime’s melody. The sound of little bells rang like a distant thought, a distressed summoning from an unfortunate victim.
Your voice never came. It left him with gnawing worry.
In the blink of an eye he had vanished from the overgrown marshland and was by your side in an instant. This energy was supposed to last another 6 hours, so why?
“I’m here— I’m here now, what happened?” He holds your hand as you lay in a sea of messy blankets, breathing ragged.
There are shimmering tears in your eyes, voice stolen from you as pain overtakes you once more. And you’re paler, dulling like a flower wilting in a harsh winter. Even with his gloves between your skin and his, he can feel an alarming cold that has begun to settle into your body.
Glove between his teeth, Xiao quickly removes it and undoes your sash. You’re left bare and heaving ragged breaths, vision almost blurring from the intensity of the pain that feels like a scorching fire throughout each nerve.
And with a desperate whisper he can’t help but wonder, “Why?”
Despite the deafening alarms that set off in your head, the ringing in your ears, and the all-consuming pain, your hand shakily reaches for his face. All he can do is hold your hand against his cheek in reassurance. Your other hand shakily reaches to intermingle into his locks.
With little force, he goes easily against your lips where you need him. There’s a small gasp from you as a warmth spreads through your body, a warmth he can feel beneath his fingertips. A sign of a quick stabilization. And despite it all, he can’t bring himself to stop his lips— his body— from indulging in you.
Your lips are soft, dewy and delicate against his. The small gasp you let out allowed him to go deeper into your heart as he hesitantly slips his tongue against yours.
When he pulls away with quickening breaths, he swipes his ungloved thumb over your lips. It was a little sloppy given his inexperience and yet your eyes had never looked so love-sick. Utterly smitten.
There’s a faint glow that you faintly emanate as the moon filters through the window. A full feeling of a sated soul— the radiant glow of a nurtured glaze lily.
Ah. So that’s what you were missing. Love.
You pull him quickly back against your lips once more, your eyes widening slightly as if you couldn’t believe your own body reacting to its own needs. It left a pleasant tingle on your lips, one you curiously touched with your fingertips in wonder.
All the while the adeptus is surprisingly composed— tips of his ears a little red from feelings he doesn’t know what to do with but is relieved you’re stable nonetheless. If a kiss was all it took to keep you safe and sound then he would gladly oblige.
In a corner of his mind he remembers Zhongli’s words, ‘The flora of this world are just as intricate as mortals. They need nourishment to grow, yes, but each needs their own specialty to prosper. For the glaze lily, this is songs and melodies. Y/n is a being born of flora and energy— attuned to your own as you well know. The melody she has come to love and need is that of your soul’s wavelength. Do not be surprised if further down the road energy alone won’t suffice.’
‘She is no different than a gentle flower, with a few more complicated emotions. Take care of her well.’
“Xiao.” Your voice gently tugs him out of his thoughts, your thumb gently brushing over his cheekbone. “You’re bleeding.”
It’s a crashing reality to remember where he came from, what his current reality still is. In an instant he catches sight of the blood that has stained his clothes. From the frantic state of his arrival, he had even managed to stain your nightgown— the sheets— with small blooms of crimson. The concern in your eyes pulls the strings of his heart in a sweet melody he’s still unaccustomed to.
He’s going insane, Xiao thinks.
“It’s not mine,” the adeptus clarifies with a sigh, unable to meet your eyes. What was this feeling? Embarrassment? Caught in such a disheveled appearance before you. He’s hardly ever experienced such confounding emotions before.
You hum, shakily sitting up on the bed. The gentle squeeze you give his hand reassures him in the slightest.
“How about I run us a new warm bath?”
#xiao#fic: from sea of flowers#genshin#xiao x reader#xiao/reader#adeptus xiao#genshin fanfic#soft#mii writes#xiao fluff#xiao angst#drabble collection: coffee break for two#genshin impact
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There was definitely a part of Benson that thought that he was dreaming. That if he woke up, he wouldn't be here in the NICU with their baby - their baby would be healthy, and have been born with no health issues - but the baby definitely wouldn't have been overseen by he love of his life, Bailey Rhodes. It was a lot to take in, and while Benson was happy that his son was here - and doing better - there was part of him that couldn't believe this was happening. Things weren't supposed to be this way; and he definitely wasn't supposed to be chasing his ex-girlfriend down the hallway of the hospital she now apparently worked in while his fiance' was sitting bedside of their newborn son. This was all simply a figment of his imagination.
Though, when he blinked and realized that he was in fact standing in the hallway of the hospital, watching as Bailey moved further away from him, Benson felt a sense of panic as this had once been a feeling that was all too familiar, and he couldn't let Bailey get out of his sight again. He was trying to be professional - he was in a relationship after all - but, something about being in Bailey's presence brought him a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in awhile and he wanted to be around her as much as he possibly could. He couldn't help but hear the way her voice was cheery when she spoke into her phone, and he assumed that she was speaking to a significant other - there was no way someone as beautiful as she'd always been would be single - but he kept his distance enough to not be too invasive, but only returned his attention to her when she acknowledged him. "I just, I know that you wouldn't lie to us, but, I don't want to make Victoria fear more than she already is." he spoke. "Can you - uh, just run through the negative impacts of the surgery? Things to look out for?" he started. "Infection, elevated heart rate, collapsed lung? How serious are we talking of set backs for the little guy? If they were to happen that is."
" You're Welcome, Mr. and Mrs.Micheals. " Bailey spoke, as the words left her mouth it made her feel sick in a way. That was supposed to be her with him, He was hers. Fuck. She loved him, she had never stopped loving him. Bailey felt as if she was going to throw up. She needed to get away from him before she said something stupid. " If you have any other questions the other nurses and myself will be around. I assure you, Theo is in great hands." Bailey said as her phone in the pocket of her scrubs began to vibrate instantly knowing it was her daughter. Bailey HATED that she had to work on her daughter's birthday, but she was older now and understood. There had also been the promise of the weekend getaway she knew that she was looking forward to. Jade was her world, her everything. Bailey knew if it hadn't been for her, she would have never gotten over losing Benny. She was grateful for her daughter, their daughter. She needed to tell him but now wasn't that time.
As Bailey walked out of the room she grabbed her phone from her pocket now to send Jade a voice memo. It was really the easiest way and quickest way for her to communicate with her daughter when she was busy with work. those five or ten seconds of messages Jade would send could get her through the hardest shift. ' Hey baby, I wanted to say I love you so much. I cannot wait to spend the whole weekend with you. Happy birthday baby girl. ' Bailey spoke quickly knowing around her bedtime she would actually Facetime with her like they did on every shift. She didn't realize that Benny was right on her heels as she rushed down the hall. 'SHIT.' She said softly before sending the voice memo and slipping her phone back into her pocket stopping so he could catch up hoping he didn't catch the short memo she had sent. She wasn't ready for that conversation, not because he didn't deserve to know but more so because she was very protective of Jade. " Mr. Micheals, sure I can try to answer them. " Bailey felt that overwhelming feeling of sickness over her as she grew closer so tries to keep a small distance from the man she still loved.
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@not-museing-around
Most people looked at their lives in their thirties and made small changes. Haircuts to make them seem younger, a little work to tighten places that were beginning to fall, perhaps even changes in health habits to extend their lives that seem so dangerously slipping away. Maddox wasn’t somebody of small gesture, though he was beginning to learn how to do things in a more minimalist way. Before, when he was thriving as a bachelor and making decisions for a company, he would have remodeled the quaint shop to feel more like the sort of place consumers would flock to. An eye for business is what his father had called it. Now, he carefully plucked at threads, making the most cautious of decisions. Even then, no decisions were made without respect given to the red headed woman who captivated him.
Maddox valued quiet mornings, if only because they provided a comfort they never had before now that Leah was within them. His home, empty and absent of life, had been transformed with her very presence. As were his mornings. He stirred in the large bed only to wake and find her still resting. Softly breathing, her chest rising and falling in the most comforting rhythm. To think, he’d been so close to losing that sight. There had been so much fear in letting her live her life naturally after the shooting that perhaps he had even come close to losing her in other ways. A grip too tight and a mind so closed off wasn’t a healthy combination for a woman so free. Leah wasn’t the dependent one. It was Max that needed her, as much as he needed the oxygen in his lungs and the food in his stomach. He slipped from under her delicate embrace, gliding out of bed and quietly crossing his room to enter the bathroom that was joined. A brisk shower to collect his thoughts took only a fraction of the hour, though as he tucked the towel in around his waist he hadn’t made his mind up about whether to wake her. Business could be pushed off for a while longer, perhaps even for the day when he thought about it. The renovations at her apartment were underway, but they didn’t need to be overseen. The shop was being returned to its former glory, not remodeled.
He rounded the corner back into their bedroom and dropped his towel onto a chair, one he would spend hours in most days while he had a company to run. A quick tug of some clothes onto his frame and Max took a careful seat on the bed, his fingers ghosting along the cheekbone of his beloved. “Leah, you don’t have to wake up, but I was going to head off to your apartment. Maybe get a look at what they’ve done to the place.” Leaning further forward, he touched his lips to her forehead with a gentleness comparable to the softness of his voice. “Or you could come along, keep me from stressing over the small things.”
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Congrats for the followers, you definitely deserve them because you are such a great writer. I'd like to request #69 from the 'small details for kisses' list for Leto, please and thank you.
Part of Youvebeenlivingfictional’s 3K Follower Celebration Thank you!!
There are days when you aren’t truly with him at all. You know that he’s busy. You don’t begrudge him his duties as the head of the Atreides, or as the leader of Caladan; you don’t begrudge him the time that he spends with his son, or with Lady Jessica. You know that his time is spread thin. That doesn’t stop you missing him.
You know if he misses you in kind. You don't question it, and you’re not the type to ask. You don’t have to, though; Leto tells you in a hundred little ways. It’s in the way that he catches your eye in halls, or passing in and out of rooms and gives a quick, unsmiling wink. It’s in the way that the two of you catch one another on the stairs, each on your way about your own business. He’ll take hold of your hand and slow the both of you, twisting his head to press a kiss to your wrist, reveling in the warmth and softness of your fingers passing over him before you each hurry on your ways.
It’s frustrating sometimes, being in the man’s orbit, but never truly together.
When you do finally have a moment alone, it’s fleeting and you both know it. You’re about to go off-world, and he’s a meeting with an ambassador of the Harkonnen’s. You don’t like that—you know how treacherous they can be. Even if they’ve all sworn that this will be in good faith, to be on their best behaviors, you don’t trust them. “Your documents are all in order,” You tell him as you neaten his desk. “Alright.” “And Halleck and Idaho are on their way. They’ll be here in more than enough time.” “Fine.” “The preparation for the meal is being overseen by Lady Jessica, as well as Lady Vaima.” When Leto makes no answer to that, you glance up and find him watching you with an unreadable expression. You frown. “Is there something that I’ve missed?” You ask. “...No,” He shakes his head as he takes slow, steady steps toward you. He gently takes the last few pages from your grasp and setting them down on the desk before taking hold of your hands. “You’ll be careful,” He orders. You exhale a shaky laugh as you pass back, “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?” “I’ll be more than alright. I’ll have Gurney and Duncan with me—” “Well—” “I should be sending one of them with you.” “I wouldn’t hear of it.” “I don’t like sending you off-world without protection,” Leto’s eyes drop to your joined hands, and a warm, affectionate feeling worms its way into your chest. “I’ll be protected. I’ll be with Bene Gesserit.” You realize that it’s the wrong thing to say when Leto’s grip twitches, his jaw going tight. You avert your eyes, raising a hand to his cheek and gently cupping it. “It’ll be alright,” You reassure. Leto pushes a soft sigh out through his nose, shaking his head a touch before he meets your eye again. “You’ll check in.” “And if I don’t?” You can’t help but tease, hoping to bring a smile to Leto’s face. It does no such thing. “If you don’t, then I will be forced to bring the might of the Atreides army down on Kaitain.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” “I’m not—” “You are, Leto. You would not storm the Emperor’s homeworld for me. It would be foolish.” Leto presses himself close, holding your gaze fastidiously. “For you,” He promises, “I would do more.”
You start to shake your head, to protest, but Leto leans in a touch, brushing his lips across yours.
Your other kisses, all offered and given in haste, have been nothing like this. Now, Leto kisses you with a meticulous care, one that shows you just how much he’s missed you, and just how much he fears your leaving him. Leto’s embrace is offered with careful tenderness—smooth slides of his lips along yours, gentle nuzzling, slow, wandering hands. The way he kisses you makes you feel as if you’d be quite content to stay right there, just like this, forever. But when you hear a knock, the both of you are jolted from it. Duncan Idaho’s voice comes roughly through the wood of the door: “The Lady’s transport is prepared.” You sigh, lowering your head and resting it against Leto’s jaw. “I have to go,” You mumble. Leto nods, his beard brushing your temple as he does. “Be careful,” He urges, “And come back.” He doesn’t say soon, he doesn’t say quickly. Leto doesn’t care when you come back, so long as you come back. “I will,” You promise, tipping your chin up. You offer Leto one more gentle kiss before you force yourself to turn and leave him behind.
#Duke Leto Atreides x Reader#Duke Leto Atreides x You#Duke Leto Atreides/Reader#Duke Leto Atreides/You#Duke Leto Atreides fic#Duke Leto Atreides imagine#asks#replies#anon#follower celebration#youvebeenlivingfictional 3k follower celebration#3k follower celebration
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rooster teeth + their antisemitism.
bringing this thread over but it can also be found on twitter here. ♥
disclaimer : i am jewish + have been watching rt's work (mainly rwby) for like 3 years now. i'm not saying they're aggressively antisemitic but bigotry doesn't need to be violent to be bigotry. ignorance is also not an excuse.
the most foremost + prominent of their antisemitic behaviour is their animated show "camp camp", which i've pointed out before in other tweets the absolute bucket full of antisemitic caricatures + "jokes". they were asked about this in an ama + this was their response.
this ... is a piss poor response. the featuring of antisemitism in their show for jokes did nothing to address how cruel + hateful + harmful antisemitism & those who follow that mindset are. they did nothing to "condone" antisemitism in their jokes because there's no push back.
the characters used for these jokes, a literal adolf hitler stand in, are idolized + adored by the fandom. by the creators themselves. all you need to do is google the character's name or look in their tumblr tag + you'll find cute fanart for days. of a literal dictator stand in.
camp camp has been called out by jewish people before, for the weird amount of antisemitic "jokes" in it that feature the character "dolph" (our adolf hitler stand in) targeting the only jewish character in the cast, neil. this features mainly in the episode reigny day.
the show is directed by a jewish man, @/JordanCwierz (not that it excuses the antisemitism, you don't need to propogate hate against your own people with your shitty comedy show) but the episode itself was written by @/kerryshawcross, who is not.
in the episode reigny day; there are multiple references to jewish suffering + prominent jewish figure anne frank. from neil hiding in the attic, writing in his diary; to dolph demanding the other kids write numbers on their arms in reference to the concentration camps.
& for all rt said the want to "condone this hate"; at the end of the episode, dolph is given an award for all he did during the episode. this isn't condemnation, this is literally praise! this is making fun of a genocide that some people still to this day don't believe happened.
and when you look at the comments, well. i'm not seeing any condemnation, rooster teeth. i thought you were shedding light on the dark parts of the world to not condone it? mind telling your fans that?
the references to the tragedies during Shoah (the holocaust) isn't just contained to reigny day; it also featured in the premiere episode of season 2 of camp camp — cult camp. there, they reference the gas chambers used to murder jewish people. & they lampshade it too.
again: while this show is directed + overseen by a jewish man, that does not erase the fact that these tragedies, that are *still denied by a good chunk of people in modern day* are being used for comedic value with no push back or condemnation. & are written by two non jews.
it's even more frustrating when in the episode reigny day, there was a genuinely funny joke about neil's jewish identity that didn't play on tragedy or antisemitism! they can do this but choose to be lazy + co opt a genocide for humour !!
i haven't even gone over the breadth of "jokes" mired in antisemitism or just plain RACISM in that episode but to quote a handful :
adolph saying juice to mean "jews" when neil was hiding in the attic
adolph not approving of "mixing colours"
adolph does the nazi salute
so this was camp camp. unfortunately, the antisemitism is not contained only to camp camp, it has it's roots in rooster teeth's other main ip; rwby. mainly with the treatment of the characters coco adel + adam taurus, though in different ways + from different audiences.
the antisemitism through coco adel comes from the person her character is modelled after; known nazi collaborator, coco chanel. coco adel is a "fashionista" who follows her teams "themeing" of sweets; her's being chocolate. however a large portion of her design is based on, coco chanel, as seen through her famed necklaces, beret, the bag, her emblem and her colour scheme of black + gold.
while coco chanel is known for her fashion company; she's also known for the fact that she built that fashion company on the back of being a nazi collaborator. this woman spied for + slept with nazis. it's not outright antisemitism but it is uncomfortable + inappropriate.
especially when : a. coco (adel) is a lesbian, + would've been killed by the people that her major inspiration supported & b. we need to stop elevating antisemitic icons to fame because they were "infamous." there were plenty of other fashion designers to use.
i had brought this up before + non jewish people in the rwby fandom were quick to jump to rooster teeth's defence, despite their previous antisemitism, & play the martyr for this company of majority non jewish people.
rooster teeth are not stupid, no matter how much they try to convince you they are so they can have excuses for things like the entire white fang plotline or how may zedong sounding like mao zedong is just a coincidence, or how they refer to a chinese character as a ninja.
from coco we go onto adam which is more of a fandom thing, but has been encouraged with the weird amount of ableism coming from vas + writers alike with his backstory + storyline. adam is a faunus, an ethnic minority in the world of remnant that are poc - coded. in his backstory he was a child slave to a racist company who was scarred using a branding iron over his eye. this was very reminiscent of african slaves being branded when they tried to escape but is overlooked by the majority white fandom.
people also feed into the hate for this character with a va, arryn zech’s unfounded headcanons that he was a "psychopath who tortured animals as a kid"; miss zech has her own history of ableism that's excused but to put this on a minority character is disgusting.
this all feeds into how the fandom will call adam a "nazi"; he follows his own ideal of how faunus are superior to humans + that they will rule remnant given the chance. a gross mentality but not one appropriate to call him a nazi. why?
because nazism is white supremacy.
nazi ideology is directly tied to the ideal of a white, superior race that should rule. adam is a POC CODED CHARACTER. he is part of the minority in remnant + the writers compared him to malcolm x, which is a whole other bag of cats that is inappropriate for me to comment on.
comparing fictional characters to nazis is antisemitic in and of itself. nazis are still very much real and a dangerous threat to jewish people to this day. we don't need goyim appropriating our struggles + fear to hate on a fictional character. yet it keeps happening.
overall; rooster teeth is not outright with their antisemitism. but that's the point. these are majority non jewish creators either unaware or uncaring of the hatred they are validating + do not care enough to fix it when we are tired of it. this mentality then bleeds into the fandom itself + puts jewish members of the fandom at risk. it makes us feel uncomfortable, it hurts us to see other members of the fandom idolize people with this mindset + the antisemitic characters they create.
at the end of the day, there is a culture here that has not been addressed completely. they will pay lipservice to jewish fans (with the chanukkah tweet) but then keep playing into stereotypes + harmful antisemites. it has to change + be acknowledged. by rt + the fandom alike. @ people in the rooster teeth fandom, who enjoy rwby or camp camp, LISTEN TO JEWISH PEOPLE. we are uncomfortable!! we are hurting!! we are tired of you not fucking listening to us because you don't think it's antisemitic as if you're the people being hurt. do fucking better.
#rooster teeth#camp camp#rwby#dolph#neil#coco adel#adam taurus#owl.txt#goyim do not fcking clown on this post
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