#trying to keep my armor varied too! i used to wear this one more

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizontober 2023 | 8: slump

[mer-acle]

Do you have any athena hcs?

Uhhh

How much time do you have lol

I'll try to list the short ones so this post doesn't get too long. Due to writing about her a lot I have a lot of lore lmao

1. Athena is the eldest child (Hephaestus born shortly after her). Nobody who's spoken to her once would expect anything else honestly

2. At the time of the Odyssey she's about 4000 years old (No reason or proof I just decided) Her first 200 years give or take were spent with Triton (read: Pallas)

3. She only got assigned with Warfare as her domain after officially joining Olympus

4. Her emotional distance with her siblings is partly due to Pallas trauma, and partly due to Zeus liking to "keep her to himself" (read: isolated as the favorite). She gets along best with Hermes and Hephaestus (yes, I refuse to accept Erechtonius happened) bc the former is just as chaotic as herself and the latter shares her creativity and both don't ask for a big commitment from her (again. No Erechtonius and no arranged marriages in my plotline let me have this)

5. Dislikes being touched. Her siblings learn to accept it, Zeus does not. She doesn't try to enforce it with him. (Yes in every iteration of her that I will ever write, there will be a touch-starved to hug plotline sue me. I need therapy)

6. Never braids her hair. She used to have braids when with Pallas, but since then she has never worn her hair this way again. She also wears it quite a bit shorter than she used to back then.

7. Her grey eyes are inherited from Métis. They also glow in the dark. She has perfect night vision.

8. Perfect memory. Also she has bird's eye view versions of even her own memories (hc that one of her domains is history so that's why) It's how she found out that Zeus interfered with Pallas's death.

9. Used to have an Oceanic themed armor before joining Olympus (Métis made it for her) She allows Hephaestus to make her a new one, shedding the Ocean symbols in an effort to please Zeus.

10. Connected to her status as a virgin goddess but in contrast to Artemis, Athena dresses pretty covered up, doesn't undress even for bathing (in ancient Greece sometimes you'd keep your chiton on as a sort of bathing suit almost, but being naked was more common) (also this is not 'purity' stuff btw I just get that vibe from her, Artemis, literally go off queen you're doing great)

11. Classic but good, cocks her head like an owl like all the time. Also says "hmm" a lot (intonation may vary)

12. (Remember, my hc, you can do whatever you like) I think all the virgin goddesses are acespec/arospec in some capacity, but Athena is the cut and dry aro/ace/repulsed one. Like... It's a big fat no from her (I'm projecting hard btw)

Anyway twelve seems like a good number I hope you like them :) I picked those that aren't specific to Epic and can be applied to myth!Athena too

[kurithedweeb]

Y'all remember that post I made about how Levin should have long-term walking problems because of the time he got possessed? I had more ideas about it. I've done some research for this and I've been basing these on my own experiences with my own bad knee, but if anyone who actually shares the same disability or uses the same mobility aids or medical devices Levin does wants to weigh in or add to this, please do! I'd love the input.

Both of his legs got some damage, but the left one took the brunt of it. He gets some occasional pain in the right foot and ankle, and a much more consistent and persistent pain in his left knee and ankle since that's where most of the misalignments happened when his legs were damaged.

Majority of the time he doesn't find the pain bad enough to justify taking painkillers. Synthetic ones make him fuzzy and most natural painkillers either aren't found on the coast or involve getting high, and he can't afford to be fuzzy or high when he's trying to be a good Lord. He'll end up suffering through it most days and spending the worst of his pain days, when he feels like he's been hit by a truck and can't make himself stand for longer than a few seconds, either administrating from bed or knocked out most of the day.

If he feels like he does need to use painkillers I'd say he prefers capsaicin, which is apparently a natural remedy for joint pain and the peppers for it can be grown on the coast, plus they can be eaten. Capsaicin can be made into a medical cream and applied directly to the affected area, and the anti-inflammatory properties also make it good for bruises and sprains.

While he uses an elbow crutch day-to-day for maneuverability and comfort, he also has a set of axillary crutches to help keep weight off his bad leg when he's having bad days or if he's injured. I've read that axillary crutches are more suitable for people with weaker balance or weaker upper bodies, but using them for too long can lead to crutch bruises around the armpit area and you can damage the axillary nerve that runs through your armpit if you spend too long putting extra pressure on the upper arm or resting your whole weight on the crutch’s soft pad when fatigued, so I imagine Levin occasionally gets awkward crutch bruises and Malachi always notices and tells him to sit down already.

He has at least two knee braces. His main brace is bulkier and offers more support with metal joints and plates running up and down his leg with hinges at the sides of the knee, and the way the plates are arranged almost make it seem like armor but probably won't fool a guard or anyone who regularly wears armor. He does maintenance on this one almost religiously because if it breaks it'll be at least a fortnight before he sees a replacement, and also squeaky metal joints are not stealthy in any way. His other brace is much slimmer and can be hidden under clothes, with an appearance like an athletic brace. It's primarily made of leather, which isn't ideal for a knee brace but in mostly-medieval times you don't really have spandex to work with. Yes, spandex is an actual material used in knee braces, along with latex. Materials aside, it is much more adjustable than his main brace, where the plates are forged to fit a certain way around his leg, and the straps can be buttoned down. If he has to go somewhere for diplomacy reasons, Levin sometimes prefers to wear the second one specifically because he can hide it under his clothes. If he thinks a fight's likely to break out, he'd prefer people don't immediately target the bad knee as an obvious weakness because of his brace.

Most of the braces he used growing up and the ones he owns as Lord were designed by Kenmur! He’s an engineer and used to be very close to Cadenza, so when she sent him a letter asking if he could help her out with something for little Levin of course he agreed, and together they puzzled out a variety of designs with varying levels of support. They also end up offering to make some for the guards of their villages and maybe will end up selling some designs to some craftsmen in other villages.

Levin's done a lot to try and correct his posture into something more regal when he was learning how to be Lord, but his hips are a little uneven from the way he fell when the possession wore off and he's got a bit of an awkward gait from how a few of the little bones in his feet ended up misshapen.

Whenever he sits down, he digs his thumb or the heel of his hand hard into the area where the femur meets the knee, and he often massages little circles around his knees when he's taking breaks.

On his best days he can manage without the braces or the crutches for a couple hours at a time, but he prefers not to go without.

Malachi has a habit of hovering on bad pain days, always at the ready to catch him if he pushes himself too far, but Levin appreciates it because his brother reminds him to take breaks when Levin himself would otherwise just push through to get work done.

As a baby he probably cried a lot because walking and sometimes crawling or even rolling onto his bad side sometimes hurt. He was probably given baby doses of painkillers on a somewhat regular basis until he was cognizant enough to deny wanting them. He never had a bad temper as a kid except when he didn’t wanna take his medicine. He did end up being carried around a lot because Zoey was worried about him walking too much when walking hurt.

Levin didn’t have any of his mobility aids or medical devices when the crew disappeared into the Irene Dimension, so when they got back and Levin was having a bad pain day, they must have been so worried he’d been horribly injured when they came home to see Levin using a crutch and his extra supportive knee brace while Malachi tries to herd him someplace he can sit down because he looks like he’s about to fall over.

[k--havok]

15 Questions: Character Edition

Shout out to @ceph-the-ghost-writer for tagging me in this! I absolutely love games like these and getting into my character's heads!

Since I am trying to get back into the swing of things with Rane and Korzan, I think I will be using Rane for this one!

R&FKA Tag List: @ceph-the-ghost-writer @authoralexharvey @dogmomwrites @saintedseraph @little-mouse-gardens @lola-theshowgrl

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Are you named after anyone?

Not that I am aware of. I was born on a rainy day, and thus was named Rane. As for that spelling... well, you would have to ask my parents their reasoning.

When was the last time you cried?

I do not quite remember. I believe it was when I fought an injured owlbear. Even when hurt, they have nasty claws and bites. But from sadness? Years ago. It's hard to be sad when you travel as I do. It keeps the mind from wandering off.

Do you have kids?

Rane sighs. Oh, if my life had gone the way I wanted to, I would have by now. I've always wanted kids. Perhaps it is fortunate I do not. My ex-fiance... well, he would have been a terrible father. But I do want children one day. At least two, in fact. But I do not see it happening any time soon.

Do you use sarcasm?

Only with those who deserve my sarcasm and scorn. Rane's eyes unfocus as if she's listening to someone else. Yes, Leshrun. You especially deserve my sarcasm. Stupid evil sword.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their clothes or armor. You can learn a lot about a person based on what they are wearing. Especially their shoes. Worn boots covered in dirt mean that someone has been on foot traveling recently while polished shoes indicate a life of luxury in the city. Beyond wealth, someone's clothing can also indicate what they do for a living, what they are up to, and a glean into their personality as well. Fashion is absolutely fascinating, isn't it?

What's your eye color?

Hazel, I believe. Although I've been told it's more yellow than green. I am not human, so perhaps for aasimar our eye color varies more. I am not certain.

Scary movies plays or happy endings? Note: Movies don't exist in this fantasy world!

I've never been to the theater. At least, not one outside the few small plays I've seen in Neverwinter as my time as a student. I think I would prefer happy endings. I have witnessed too many scary things in my life. I do not think watching it be reenacted would interest me.

Any special talents?

As an aasimar, I am part celestial, so I have several abilities that humans do not have, such as the ability to perform minor healing as well as make objects shine with light. However, other aasimar most likely have similar abilities to me as well. I've never met another aasimar, though. Not counting those abilities, I do think of myself as an alchemist. It is what I specialized in when I enrolled in college. I also like to think I am quite proficient at most weapons as well-- whether it be a sword, bow, dagger, or throwing axe.

Where were you born?

In a tiny town you've most likely never heard of off the Sword's Coast. I was born in my parents' tavern. I believe an acolyte from the local temple assisted my mother as well. I can only imagine the surprise they all had when I was born with wing nubs!

What are your hobbies?

Alchemy, of course. Although is it a hobby if it is a skill that keeps you alive? I also enjoy reading and studying different subjects, such as weaponry and monsters. I've recently been out in the field writing my own notes and have been practicing ciphers to encode them, just in case. After all, perhaps the wizards aren't wrong about protecting your intellectual property. I also enjoy learning new languages and meeting new people. It's one of the highlights of being a traveler.

Have you any pets?

Oh no, it would be hard to keep a pet. I have thought of getting a familiar, but I do not think it would assist me with the things I would like to do. Besides, I already have to deal with Leshrun. He almost counts as a-- Rane drops her sentence and winces as Leshrun certainly starts admonishing her in her mind.

What sports do you/have you played?

I was never interested in sports. Unless you consider learning how to use weapons and slay monsters a sport, of course.

How tall are you?

I am six feet and three inches on my flat feet. My boots tend to add an inch or two to my height.

Favorite subject in school?

Alchemy, of course! Too bad the courses were... not quite as loved and respected as the other magical courses. My advanced alchemy classes were always so small and nearly got cancelled every semester. It wasn't the only reason why I left higher education, but one of several.

Dream job?

As a child, I always dreamed of being an adventurer. A hero. Someone who slayed dragons, rescued princesses, and starred in bard's tales far and wide. I do not quite meet that definition currently. I have slayed no dragons, rescued no princesses, and I doubt any bards are singing of my adventurers regarding chasing goblins and hunting game. There is something out there for me. I am meant for something. Whether one wants to call it a job, destiny, or a child's naive dreams doesn't matter to me. I know I am here to help others, and that is exactly what I will do.

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No Pressure Tag: @dogmomwrites @novel-emma @authoralexharvey @samfoxheartwrites @aether-wasteland-s @awordchemist @verba-writing @saintedseraph and an open tag for you!

[awellboiledicicle]

[stumbles in with my pre-passover gummy bears]

GUYS FABLE/ELDEN RING AU THOUGHT

what if Theresa is able to see in other worlds because an outer god chose her and now she’s using the Spire like Marika used the Erd Tree, just in a far more contained and secretive manner?

What if The Tarnished of No Renown is the sibling of Logan and the hero of brightwall? Like long ago one of the Tarnished in Godfrey’s army settled in Albion--against all common sense-- and had kids with a Hero and it spiraled from there. Perhaps the weirdness of the Lands Between contributing to how weird the fourth type of hero is in general.

Imagine if they’d died on the same expedition where Logan faced the Crawler and the damage was just too great to be countered by Hero Blood. All they remember is cold and pain and laughter... followed by darkness. Then, decades later, they awake to the cave they died in. A glitter of gold worming its way from their palm to their chest. With it, an intense need to go somewhere, but where? Enter Theresa. They recognize her, of course they do-- Sparrow spoke of her often. The tone and impression of these talks varied, but she was still a common topic. Mostly good, though. Mostly. She tells them that death, it seems, is no longer their destiny. So she tells them that they must go on a journey, one even grander than their parent went on--far, far afield, beyond the wall of fog even the best cartographers were puzzled by.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Theresa teleports them to the Chapel of Anticipation with no further guidance than “Seek the Elden Ring” and imparting upon them a guild seal so they may grow in experience. 

They get knocked out falling from the cliff and are sick of caves. Just deeply sick of them when they wake up later. 

They assume Varre is a bandit and is just happy to not be instantly attacked. They assume everyone in the Lands Between is either insanely skilled or insanely brave for being outside. Melina chooses them because they seem rather impossibly determined.. and totally not using runes. When she lays a hand upon them, she can see the memories of thousands of beings interwoven into their very being. See the runes sitting untouched as their very soul plucks information from these slain spirits clinging to them and then... consumes it. Becomes stronger from it. She doesn’t know what they are, but she knows them not to be a tarnished. She chooses them regardless because she has... no other real option.

They do honestly, with complete confusion, ask Margit what the fuck he is while they’re fighting though. “You’re too big for a Hobbe, too thick to be a balvarine-- did your mum fuck a troll?” This does nothing to stop Margit’s dislike of them.

The Roundtable just assumes they’re tarnished and.... old. Or just sort of dim. Which is not true, their knowledge base is just.. Albion and Aurora centric. Some Samarkand and northern land info, but not much.

I imagine they wouldn’t wear armor and that would make everyone either impressed or deeply nervous.

Ooh Theresa could appear about midway through their quest to try swaying them to give the physical manifestation of the Ring to her upon quest completion. To ‘safeguard’ as she has the Spire. But Hero here has been learning and growing attached to this place and is reasonably sure the lands between would have some major, major bad news come if the ring physically left. “world in its influence collapsing” bad news. “Scarlet rot running rampant because the greater will isn’t keeping it in check” bad. But it could turn out she was pulling a Fable 3, turning them against everyone else so it would be easier to manipulate them so her outer god could take over. She could probably convince them that they would be countering the god of rot, appearing at a grace in Caelid and talking there. Melina stays hidden during Theresa’s invasions.

Ooh that could spur them trying to gather allies over just killing things, because then there’d be a structure to the land they’d inherit-- a net of influence to air recovery. A reason to apologize for calling Margit’s mother a trollfucker. Especially given they’d find out its Marika at some point and go “oh, well. uh. oops”

Oh no i’m drafting this in my head and it owns bones.

[luimagines]

Could you write something for Twili! Reader, possibly Twis lost daughter? Keep up the cool work!

Masterlist

Dad! Twilight! I've been asked to write Dad! Twilight!?

I think I can make it work. Thank you so much for the request.

Out of habit at this point, I’ve made the reader gender neutral but it doesn’t really matter.

Content under the cut!

It wasn't every day that a portal opens up in the Twilight Realm.

Even less so that you're alone enough to check it out without anyone knowing that you were by that sort of magic.

Your mother wouldn't appreciate it and would at least send ten people to keep you from going further and anther fifteen to try and stifle the unfamiliar magic.

But what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

You feel a little excited and bubbly at your very core. This is your chance! Your chance to see what's beyond! Your mom didn't talk much about your father but you knew that he was from beyond the Twilight realm and a brave adventurer.

Maybe it will take you to him?

Maybe you can go on your own adventure?

Follow in his footsteps.

Your mother did always say that you reminded her of him.

You've decided.

With determined and unquestionable confidence you walk through the portal onto the other side without once looking back.

It was colder than you were used to and there was a lot you couldn't really see in front of you. At some point it was pitch black and strangely warmer than before until it lessened again and you traveled to the other side.

For starters, it was brighter than anything the Twilight Realm had to offer. And startlingly green.

Immediately, you hear voices come from the side.

"I told you, the portal opened up over here! It's not that much farther, we can go to where we need to go."

You stunned where you stand and gulp slightly.

The portal closes quickly behind you, taking away your chances of changing your mind and heading back the way you came.

You’re quick to shift your weight onto your toes and try to make your way away from the upcoming company.

You don’t get far.

“Hold it!” Someone shouts. “Who are you? State your name and purpose!”

You wince and curl into yourself, no longer feeling as confident as you did when you first found the portal. You’re mother is going to have your head when she finds out about this. And if the people around you take your head instead, you fear what your mother will do once she finds out. She still mourns losing your father. You can’t bare the thought of her losing you.

“Hold on guys!” Someone else says. “I know their kind. You’re from the Twilight Realm, right? What your name? Wild, put your weapon. Down.”

You state your name and slowly look upwards and toward the one who was speaking to you. You both stare at each other for a moment. You notice that he’s Hylian with a fur pelt around his shoulders and tattoos on his face that seem familiar to you. He’s looking at you with what could only be described as shocked, horror.

You tilt your head and begin to calm yourself down. 

There’s nine hylians around you, each armed to the teeth and all of them seem to be of varying ages. They all seem to be staring between you and their friend. Some going as far to hesitantly put their weapons away when you don’t show any hostility.

“...Midna...” The pelted man speaks up. His voice is so quiet that you have to strain yourself to hear him. “Do you happen to know anyone named Midna?”

You pause and frown slightly. “How do you know my mother?”

He chokes on his own spit. “Mother?”

You stand up taller and look down on the man with suspicion. “How do you know my mother?”

“We’re... We were..” He stutters and continues to openly gape at you.

“Lovers.” Someone else speaks up. You look at him, almost insulted at the prospect. He a bit shorter than the pelted man but holds himself in high regard by the way he looks at you head on. He wears a long and fanciful blue scarf with large golden embroidery of what has to be the country’s emblem. 

“Excuse me?” You narrow your eyebrows.

“Who’s your father?” He raises an eyebrow in challenge.

This time you preen with pride and place your hands on your hips. “My father is named Link. Savior of the Twilight Realm.”

“Very interesting.” He smirks slightly, entertained by an idea that only he seems to understand. The group takes a step back away from you in unison and the pelted man looks paler than he did two seconds ago. It’s starting to worry you. 

“Why do you ask?” You match his tone and try to at least make it seem like you know what you’re doing.

“I’ve also met your mother, if what you’re telling us is the truth. You look like her, sure- but you have his eyes. She talked a lot about Link and how much he meant to her. You look a bit like him too. You have his nose if you look close enough.” He shrugs.

“She was pregnant?” The pelted man falls on his knees. His eyes never leave your form as he does so.

Something clicks.

“By the stars...” You gulp and take a better look at him. What his companion said was starting to make things a little more clear to you.

Yes, you see it now.

You have his nose, his eyes- and his lack of self preservation considering the circumstances and the portal that brought you here. He knew your mother- intimately by the sound of it. He’s armed to the teeth like all the others and your mother did say he was an adventurer and a hero. This other man who you’ve never heard of claims to know your mother and father and all of the stories point to this man in front of you.

“You...” You trail off and blinked intelligently at him.

“But it’s only been five years...” He gulps and falls backwards, only barely catching himself with his hands.

“Does this make me an uncle?” Another one from the group speaks up. You snap your head to him. He has deep and long scars across his face and long hair that’s draped across his shoulder.

“You’re my uncle?” You blurt.

“I don’t think the timeline actually cares about how long it’s been for you.” Someone with pink hair speaks up and pats the pelted man’s shoulder in sympathy. 

“But this means that I wasn’t.... I was never there... I don’t ever see her again, do I?” He looks like he’s going to cry as he falls to his knees and you’re a little self-conscious about where the conversation is going.

“By Hylia, I’m a grandfather for sure now.” The oldest of them speaks with a delayed revelation. You side eyes him to see his armor and the scar over his eye and bit your lip.

“Wait, wait, wait, you’re Twilight’s father!?” The smallest yells out. He has the most colorful clothing choice.

“I’m his descendent.” This ‘Twilight’ speaks aloud. He takes a deep breath and puts his face in his hands. “And now...”

“Congrats! You’re a dad!” The brunette of the group cheers quietly, trying to clear the tension but it doesn’t do much. 

Your father looks up at you, tears in his eyes but he makes eye contact. “How is she? Your mother? Is she well?”

“She’s queen of the Twilight Realm. So I’d say she’s doing pretty well all things considered...” You reply and begin to rock on the ball of your feet out of awkwardness. “She misses you...”

He sniffles and chokes on a laugh. “I miss her too...”

You hum and look off the to the side. “Never really knew my father.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’d like to.”

Twilight takes a deep breath and stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. “You know what, I’d like to get to know you too.”

You smile and take it. He’s crying and you feel like crying to but you’re actually happy with how things have turned out.

You suddenly hear a voice break through the silence, calling your name with a screech. You tense and take a step back. “Uh oh...”

“Uh oh? What’s uh oh? What’s going on?”

Scarf man speaks up again. “Are we going to talk about Twilight being Time’s descendent? Or how Twilight’s child is from another realm? Or that he has a child at all?” 

“No.”

“Nope.”

“Not now anyway.”

You curse as Twili guards burst through the tree line into your direction.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing bad but...uh... My mother is going to kill me.”

[mushroom-winners-proof]

How do you come up with the office outfits for everyone because i love them! 😍

omg thank you so much ahaaaa

the TL;DR of it all is that i just try to translate key design points from their original designs to be more suited for suits. i also look up a lot of suit designs- both regular and elaborate ones for fancy events to get inspiration and to see if something looks good and applicable to the character i'm working with. i'll give an elaborate example below the cut

i had a feeling that aqua would be well received so i'll use her as an example (it also gives me the chance to fix her shoes on the drawing file lmao)

I changed her straps to be a pink tie. It's an eye-catching accessory on her chest that dually fulfills the purpose of giving her emblem a place to be on display just like on her original design (Terra and Eraqus's emblems aren't directly on their chest accessory, so I turned their straps into suspenders). As for what type of suit she wears beyond it being a corset suit, I wanted to keep it that form-fitting Italian feel to match her pre-existing tight outfit; Aqua's original outfit is comprised mostly of spandex and then the flowy pieces of her sleeves and skirt, and attributing those pieces to a jacket an Italian suit was best for the base suit

Not much to say, just gave her a corset suit to mirror the corset she wears.

I can't just have Aqua walk around with armor on her, so the closest I thought to do was just give her silver buttons and cufflinks. It's not exact, but it does borrow from something round and metallic on her design.

One of Aqua's most defining design points is her flowy sleeves and skirt. Evidently I can't do something like that exactly while wanting to fulfill other design points, so I went with a short jacket to fulfill the role. It still provided a similar shape and silhouette as the original pieces, yet is more fitted for a business setting.

Instead of complete pants, Aqua wears shorts and stockings. I didn't want to put her in a skirt since it didn't feel right to her character nor her character design, so I went with a complete set of pants and then a jacket with a flared bottom to create an illusionary separation between the two to mimic the feel of shorts and stockings. It dually helped that the corset turned the bottom of the suit into a boxed shape to mimic shorts, yet its opening in the middle prevented it from looking like a skirt. It's hard to see, but I did give Aqua a belt with a silver buckle to mimic her white sash

I fiddled with these probably the most. I thought of making them regular shoes, but my need to make the design as accurate to the original as I could forced me to reconsider. Originally I did go with slip-on shoes with black and white accents: Aqua's boots were a singular shape and the pattern of business shoes offered a similar-enough chance to imitate the look and colors. However it was only when I was designing Eraqus's look that I realized the shoes themselves looked pretty lackluster and weren't as eye catching and unique as Aqua and Eraqus's original boots were. After looking at some shoes for a bit I eventually came upon the shoes we have now and they definitely feel more faithful, unique, and stylish.

A lot of KH characters wear gloves so it's only right I apply it to their suits too. Fingerless can be worn with suits, however for Aqua's business attire where I want her to appear professional and important, full gloves were better suited for the whole look.

As for what type of suit she wears beyond it being a corset suit, I wanted to keep it that form-fitting Italian feel to match her pre-existing tight outfit; Aqua's original outfit is comprised mostly of spandex and then the flowy pieces of her sleeves and skirt, and attributing those pieces to a jacket an Italian suit was best for the base suit.

the thought process for these outfits vary with the character: some have more thought in them opposed to others (though I am going through the phase where i'm thinking of redesigning a few) but for the most part they all follow a similar process like this :)

[elizabethemerald]

Fall Anniversary at the Soltryce Academy

Caleb walked into his classroom at the Soltryce Academy with the immediate instinct that something was wrong. He had been teaching Transmutation theory and application in this same class room for the past twenty years, so anything that seemed different set off alarms in his head. 

He mentally checked the wards on the class room and found them intact. There were a few students in their seats, a few more filtering into the lecture hall, by the second. None of them seemed alarmed. Whatever was different today did not appear to be an immediate threat. 

Still just to be safe he subtly cast Detect Magic as he set his bag down and took off his coat. Immediately a few points were highlighted in his mind. Of course his own magical items, the amber around his neck and the amulet beside it, the ring on his finger, the chalk he had enchanted to help him lecture. Nothing off there. 

There were a few points of magic around the rest of the room, each quickly analyzed and dismissed. Transmutation magic on a small pile of coins near the wall, a low level student’s practice project. Abjuration magic in the wards along the walls. Divination magic in a button, another spying device Astrid had tried to sneak into his class room to keep him from teaching against the school’s policies. 

It was the illusion spells that caught his attention. A few of the students were covered in the same, linked illusion. Their appearance normal enough to blend in, but also entirely too normal for a real student. And there, a student he didn’t recognize even with his keen mind, covered in an illusion spell. Several other magical objects of varying power, hidden under the spell. The Vestige appeared to be within its pocket dimension, so at least they hadn’t brought a weapon onto campus. 

After setting down his things and greeting his class he squeezed past a few of the students to grab Astrid’s enchanted button. He quickly dispelled it and slipped it into an envelope to return to her later. As he returned to the front he gave the cat sitting on his desk a brief scratch. 

“Hello Jester.” He said. Of course he didn’t need Detect Magic telling him of the cat’s aura of Transmutation to know his friend. She was bright blue after all and staring at him far more smugly than even a magic fey cat would. 

“Now class, I know we were discussing transmutation principles as applied to effecting the elements around you, but I am afraid that lesson will have to be postponed. It would seem that it is the anniversary of the Mighty Nein getting together and they have decided to invite themselves to my class.”

There was a muttering around the class room as the students looked at each other, before one of them near the front stood up, the illusion dropping off her form as she did so. 

“I told you he wouldn’t fall for it!” Veth said in her high voice, She looked mostly unchanged from when they first brought her back to her proper body. A few more laugh lines, but nothing more to show the passing two decades. “Lebby, is an amazing wizard, he wouldn’t fall for something simple like that. You students better appreciate the skill of your teacher.”

Caleb smiled fondly as Veth walked up to the front to give him a hug. Interspersed through the seats a few more illusion spells dropped. A half elven man walked up from the front row and kissed him on the cheek. Essek’s own illusion lasting even as he dismissed the Seeming on Kingsley and Yasha. 

“How did they rope you into this?” Caleb whispered to Essek. 

“Oh you know I can’t resist a practical joke.” Essek maintained his deadpan delivery for only a few seconds before a small smile graced his lips. Caleb knew quite well that Essek looked as ageless as ever, under his illusion. His elven blood would keep him looking much the same for the next few centuries. Caleb returned the kiss, to the muttering of his students. They weren’t ever a 100% sure who Caleb’s rotating cast of elven boyfriends were, and Caleb was more than happy to keep them in the dark. 

“Well you can’t fault us for trying!” Kingsley said. They were wearing a scandalously low cut shirt, a pair of plain black pants, and a pair of thigh high boots. His purple hair was fading to a less vibrant shade just a bit near his ears and he had a larger collection of scars, as one would expect from years of piracy and being a bloodhunter. They were also wearing their sword much to Caleb’s disapproval, which was apparently not magical. 

“You can’t expect me to hide this glorious look without magic though can you?” He said, sliding his hands down to his hips then back up his torso. Then he grabbed Caleb’s chin and kissed him full on the mouth, with tongue for several seconds, while his students lost their collective minds. Caleb smiled against Kingsley’s lips right before the tiefling stepped back. He was sure the rumor mill of the school would go wild about that for a few weeks. He wished he could see the look on Master Beck’s face when the news came across her desk. “Here’s to another twenty years, magic man.”

Yasha and Caduceus walked up next, each giving Caleb a tight hug. These two showed their age the least of the non elven members of the Nine. Cad could have been just stepping out of the temple doors in the Blooming Grove, saying that he had only three cups, if it weren’t for the increased presence of lichens and mosses of all kinds on his clothes and armor. Caleb was fairly certain there was an actual bird’s nest in his pink hair. Yasha of course looked as badass and muscular as she had when they first found her. Her hair was completely white, done up in an ornate braid. Home life seemed to suit her well, she looked genuinely happy and relaxed like she certainly hadn’t when they had first gotten together. 

Fjord’s spell dropped as well. The half orc’s hair had large stripes of gray in it, he had crows feet at the corners of his eyes, and his salt and pepper beard had significantly more salt to it now. He still looked good, life at sea, despite its hardships, keeping him fit. He laughed at something over Caleb’s shoulder as he approached and he found himself lifted bodily into the air by a pair of muscular blue arms. 

Jester having dropped her polymorph spun him around briefly in the hug before setting him back on his feet. She would never fail to look divine. Her horns now curling in on themselves, almost like her mother’s had when they first met her. Her hair is pulled back into a pony tail, poofing out behind her head from the salt air. Her sailing days were certainly not hurting her in anyway. Her smile was still just as wide, her eyes just as sharp, and her arms just as strong, if not more so. 

“Happy anniversary Caleb! Twenty years ago you were a stinky wizard. Now you are here teaching!” Jester’s happiness in her voice carried to every corner of the lecture hall. 

“What happened to our plan of drinks in Nicodranas this evening?”

“I just couldn’t wait Cay-leb.” She pouted. “Fjord and I got into port early, and I was so bored.”

Caleb smiled at her, then looked around at the rest of the Nein, pretending to count. 

“We appear to be one short. Where is my sister? Couldn’t drag her away from the Cobalt training pit? Or did she get lost in a book like some kind of nerd?” Caleb said with a smirk.

“Mother fucker!” 

He looked up towards the voice above him, just in time to watch Beauregard drop from the ceiling, to land on his desk with a perfect three point landing. She hopped off the desk and punched his arm, before also grabbing him in a tight hug. 

“I am not a nerd, Widogast!” She snapped, a wide grin on her face. 

“Beauregard, please do not land on my desk. It was a gift and I don’t think it could bare too many impacts like that.” He stopped to look up at the vaulted ceilings of the class room. “Also, how did you get up there?”

If she had been invisible she would have tripped the wards on the class room. And if she had gone in the brief break between classes one of the early students would have noticed her and caused a stir. 

Beau took her turn to smirk. 

“I have been waiting up there for four hours so we could surprise you. It’s surprisingly comfortable. I could have gone another couple of hours without breaking a sweat.” She paused to flex, causing several students, and Yasha to blush at her muscles. 

Beauregard’s monk training meant that she looked like she hadn’t aged a day since Aeor. And she could still easily out fight everyone else in the room if she wanted to. She was also the one member of the Nein that Caleb saw the most frequently. Their work to root out corruption among the Cerberus Assembly, and other bodies of power in the Empire often kept them up together late into the night, until Yasha would intervene and throw her wife over her shoulder to carry her to bed. 

“Can I finish the lesson, or should we depart immediately?” Caleb asked, already guessing the answer. 

“Cayyyllleeeb.” Jester groaned, pulling at her face. “I’m sooooo bored. I want to drink and party already!”

Caleb turned back to his class of students. He was sure most of them had heard rumors about Professor Widogast and the wild adventures he got up to with the Mighty Nein back when they first got together. He wasn’t sure how much they actually believed, but he was sure that even the most widely blown out of proportion tale didn’t even begin to cover the truth of what they had done together. 

“In honor of the anniversary of this group of arschlochs finding each other, consider this to be a free day. Keep up on your readings, and if you have any questions I will be at my regular office hours tomorrow morning.” 

The students immediately started buzzing as they stood and packed. No doubt during tomorrow’s class he would have to field a whole host of questions about the Nein, and that was just the way he liked it. The day after the anniversary was the one day he would talk about what his family had done. As the class filtered out, with many a lingering glance thrown at the colorful group at the front, Caleb turned to Essek, setting the envelope with Astrid’s button in it on the table top to deal with later. 

“Would you like to teleport us to the beach, or shall I?”

Essek put up both hands. 

“I already used my spell slots getting us all back together again. You can bring us to the coast.” Essek said, his smile a mix between smug and fond. 

Caleb rolled his eyes before pulling him into a soft kiss. Then he turned to address the rest of the Nein. The family he had made for himself. 

“Are we ready?” After a series of nods, he pulled an ancient clay turtle from his pocket and gave it a squeeze. “Then let’s go!”

And they were off, to a night of drinks and celebration and stories told, and memories shared. And of course many toasts, “To another twenty years.”

[kkeidawrites]

That Night

Chp. 2

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I take back what I said last night. That insufferable, uncouth, disrespectful, brat has been nothing but a throne in my side and it’s only been three days! Three!

Mother has somehow made it her mission to include Mawu in every single activity I would do during the day. My schedule has been completely altered due to Mother’s meddling.

Now, the moon goddess is following behind me as I headed to my meeting with the generals of Asgard and my father. How delightful.

“I still don’t understand why I must attend as well. I have better things to do than be with you all day.” The beautiful woman spoke up and I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

“I am not happy about your attendance either. And I would recommend you to stay quiet while I speak with the generals and my father.” I say and I hear her bark out a laugh in disbelief.

“Excuse you, I will have you know that I have lead my own army against the evil monster Gaunab. When he killed half of the humans on Earth and force my moon to...to,” I turn to see her eyes glowing a purple color and she closed her eyes, sighing, as she forced herself to calm down.

“I’m not unfamiliar of speaking war games to another.” She says walking past me as I watched her stomp away, her dress swaying behind her. Today she wore a silver dress, that fit her too well. It fit her deliciously. It was already a difficulty to keep my eyes off of her and now that she was wearing this dress, it has become twice as difficult. Clicking my tongue I flicked my cape behind me and followed after her.

Gold doors stood in our wake as we walked closer to the war room. Father had informed me that there was another war on the horizon from the Black Beserkers. It was urgent that we speak on our next move before it was too late.

Two guards stood in front of the doors, spears gripped tight in their grasps and their silver armor gleamed in the sun.

The two guards open the door and we walk in to see all of Asgard’s generals and my father and unfortunately my brother around the gold table that showed all of Asgard’s defense positions and small horses and men that were expertly placed on the maps.

Odin looks up and noticed Mawu and I, then waved his hand over to us both. I took my place by Father’s side while Mawu stood next to Thor who smiled in greeting to her. She nods in greeting with a smile of her own and turns her focus to the table.

Two hours of going back and forth with each general with my father and my brother about which idea was best. I sighed at the endless bickering and noticed that Mawu was looking at the maps before us very intently. Moving a step closer to the table, she moves two of the maps and grazed one finger through both of them.

“What if...” taking one more good look through the maps, Mawu looked up to see the men have their full attention on her.

“What if we used a surprise attack? Gorr is known for wanting one on one fights, yes?” Her question is towards Odin who nods. “I suggest we set him up to bait and then attack him then.” She says and the generals began muttering to one another while Thor turns to her.

“How do you know of Gorr? I have not heard of him going to Midgard.” Thor states. Mawu frowns and clenched her left hand in a fist.

“He had came to Earth almost two hundred years ago and had killed a -ahem- a God and my mother and I decided to investigate it. He took us by surprise, his black dogs took out half of our troops and nearly killed my mother and I. We we were only able to survive when my sister arrived and even with her army did we narrowly win.” Mawu sighs and I raised my eyebrows, quite impressed by her conquest.

Gorr was not an enemy to make light of. He too has been a constant that father constantly struggled to keep contain. I have had my own fights with the infamous God Butcher and he was not a being to be taken lightly.

“Even though we won, it was still a devastating loss to our people and not just our troops...we lost a lot of humans that days as well. Gorr is a monster.” Her eyebrows narrow in anger and turns to Odin with determination in her eyes.

“We must stop him.” She says and Odin pats her shoulder in reassurance.

“We will. And when we do,” he raised his staff to the others who straightened their backs.

“We will place his head on a pike. To show that Asgard shall not be triffled with ever again!” Thor and the other generals raised their weapons in praise and bellowed out a yell in agreement.

I turned my eyes back to Mawu who sighed heavily and left the war room as the others continued to strategize. Seeing as that I was no longer needed, I left as well and made my way towards the library. They can bicker and fuss some more but, I refuse to be apart of it.

As I paced to the library, to my left there was movement going into the gardens and I stopped to peek over a balcony to see the moon goddess walking through the varies pattern of different flowers.

I noticed that she was cradling something in her arms and the trip to the library seemed like a later task. The idea of wanting to know where that spiteful moon goddess is up to, peaked my interest.

Following the familiar path to the gardens, I saw the cloud of black curls and shimmering silver dress sitting under a large tree that was in the middle of the gardens. And it would seem that she wasn’t alone either.

Hiding behind a tree nearby, I shapshifted into a eagle and flapped into the tree above her. Turning my head I glanced down to see that my mother had joined the younger goddess. They both sat on the soft grass and spoke softly.

Third Person POV

Irawo jumps to a nearby flower and begins nibbling on the stem.

“I hope your stay here has been well, Mawu. I promised your mother that I would make sure you were as comfortable as possible.” Frigga says to the goddess.

“Oh yes, Lady Frigga, I am quite content. Although I am trying everything within my person not to strangle a certain God of Mischief.” Mawu sighs to the All Mother who chuckles.

“My son,” she smiles. “He has always been mischievous but, he is a good man. He wasn’t one for fighting like his brother, he became interested in reading and studying, learning magic perhaps far better and faster than any student I have had under my wing.” She smiles with pride.

“He is a remarkable young man, that I am proud to call my son.” Frigga finishes as Mawu noticed movement above them and the familiar gold patch that sat on their breastbone made Mawu’s left eye twitch in annoyance.

“As remarkable as he may be,” Mawu spots a rock by her foot and secretly picked it up.

“He’s still rude and the fact that he is constantly picking at me doesn’t help either.”

“I’m sure as the time passes you two will be on better terms. When it comes to new people, Loki tends to grow on you.” Frigga explains. She then placed a hand on Mawu’s shoulder and the moon goddess looks at the All Mother in question.

“Please be patient with him,” she begins as she smiles at her.

“He’s really not all that bad.” And with that Frigga stands to her feet and leaves the gardens with Mawu contemplating her words until she remembers a certain bird brain camping above her, no doubt listening to her and Frigga’s conversation.

Mawu stands to her feet as well and fixes her dress, making sure to keep the rock in her hand as inconspicuous as possible until she quickly turns to the tree and throws it to hit the eagle.

The eagle (Loki) screeches in surprise and falls off the branch it was perched on and land on the grass in front of her. Slowly, the eagle shifted back to Loki and Mawu huffed, going over to Irawo and picking him up. He groaned from the fall and rubbed his back.

“The next time you easedrop, make sure that your jewelry is hidden better. You were too easy to detect.” She ‘hmphs’ and leaves the God of Mischief to groan in pain.

Later on that night

Mawu made her way to the dining hall around this time, she was just going to eat a bit and then take a couple of snacks back to her room for her and Irawo.

“Mother, you must find a way for her to leave. I cannot take this anymore.” Before she turned the corner where the dining hall was, Mawu pressed herself against the wall and listens. In her view she watched as Loki and Frigga came from another hall walking towards the dining hall.

“Oh, Loki, Mawu is completely harmless-”

“Harmless?! She’s insufferable! It’s bad enough I have to see her almost every hour of the day but, this is too far. Now, I have to deal with her whenever I go to different realms? That is too much of my comfort that you are taking advantage of.” He said to her. Frigga grabs his arm to stop him and Loki sighs as his mother moves to stand in front of him.

“Is it really so bad to have her in your presence?”

“Yes!” He says making Frigga give him a look.

“How about this,” she begins as she moved her son’s arm to allow hers to loop through and they continue walking towards the dining hall.

“If you spend at least three hours with her for the duration of her stay, I will speak to your father about your traveling privileges than just the four realms you are allowed to go to.” She negotiated while her son raised an eyebrow at her.

“You will speak to father? He won’t give me back my traveling privileges just because you asked him.” Loki rolls his eyes while Frigga smirks.

“But, I can my son. I am not the All Mother for nothing.” She pats her son’s arm lightly and Loki gives her small smile.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Mawu made her appearance from around the corner and crossed her arms. It’s not like she was here for her own free will she was just as stuck in this as he was.

“Ibajẹ ẹlẹgbẹ.” Mawu mutters as she paced to the dining hall. Pushing the doors open, the royal family noticed her appearance and Thor raised his goblet in greeting to her.

“Ah, The Great Lady Mawu has arrived!” Thor announces. She smiled at Thor. He was a very loud guy but, he was all around friendly. In the few times they have been together he has always asked her if She wanted to join him on his many conquests on different realms to fight the enemies or in some cases, ‘play with them’.

Mawu’s POV

In spite of being here for the next few weeks, Thor was probably the only thing that has really livened up the place and the fact that Loki didn’t bother me was a great feat as well.

“Hello Thor. Back from your many conquests I see.” I take a seat between him and Frigga.

“Yes, I have returned from the realm Nidavellir. Riding with the dwarves to hunt Biolsïdhs!” He went on to talk about his adventure as a servant placed a plate of food in front of me. I thanked them and took a bite into the bread and cheese.

The feeling of someone watching me made me avert my eyes up to see Loki’s green ones glaring at me. I rolled my eyes at him and turned my head to tune into Thor’s story. It would seem that throughout dinner, Loki’s eyes never left the side of my face and it sent chills down my spine.

Once dinner was over, I walked back to my quarters with a napkin full of carrots and some sweets inside. I was nearly at my room when I saw a familiar being leaned against the wall with their arms crossed. Sighing, I quickened my walk to my door until I felt a whooshing sound and I looked to my right to see Loki now leaned against the wall by my door.

“We are to spend three hours everyday until you leave.” He stated.

“Oh joy,” I reached out to open my door but, my wrist was quickly grabbed by the God before me. I looked at his hand on my wrist then back at Loki, like he had lost his mind.

“Release me-”

“Two in a half more weeks,” he says as he looks in my eyes.

“Two. That is all the time that we have to just spend three hours together. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t have to be allies. As long as you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours.” He says.

“Let. Me. Go.” I grit at him and snatch my wrist back opening my door and going inside just to slam it in his face before he had the chance to speak anymore.

“Fucking asshole...” I mutter and move over to my bed where Irawo was grooming himself. He hopped his way over to me and I placed the napkin of treats on the bed and gave him two carrots where he happily began to eat his treats.

Biting into the sweet bun I managed to snag from the feast earlier, I thought back to what Loki said. Spend three hours with him for the next couple of weeks?! I sighed in annoyance.

“I can’t believe this...just what is Frigga planning.” I muffled into the bun, then moaning because I realized how good it was.

“This is really good Irawo.” I say and the bunny begins munching on his second carrot.

Third Person POV

Unbeknownst to Mawu, Loki laid in his bed slightly fuming on the fact that he now has to deal with that woman much longer than he wanted to. Damn his mother’s meddling. Taking a bite from the carrot in his hand, he hmphed in annoyance.

That insufferable woman was going to be the death of him.

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End of Chp. 2

Ch. 1⬅️

Ch. 3⬅️

Here’s another chapter for you guys! As always thanks for reading and make sure to like, comment and reblog!

See you soon!

[nattikay]

So I saw this post while browsing toa tags the other day. While I don’t think being obsessed with the school mascot automatically makes Toby a furry (though it is funny to joke about lol) since “being a furry” actually just means “being a fan of anthropomorphic animals” and doesn’t necessarily require any form of costuming or interest in such, it did get me thinking, hmmm...if he was a furry, what would his fursona be? 🤔 And from there I started wondering what Jim’s and Claire’s would be as well because y not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

BUT WAIT, I hear you say--haven’t you already drawn the trio as werewolves and wolfwalkers etc.? Wouldn’t those be their fursonas??

Well yes....but actually no.

I guess it’s a little hard to explain, but there’s a nuance between “[person] but as an animal” and a proper “fursona”. While a fursona is an animal character used to represent its person, it doesn’t have to physically resemble them at all as you would expect [person]-but-as-[animal] to. For example, if you were to design me but as a cat, you’d probably give it light brown fur and green eyes like I have irl. But my fursona, unlike my human self, actually has blue fur and purple eyes. You can give your fursona matching physical traits to your own if you want to, and some people do, but most use only a pinch of their irl appearance, if any at all.

The choices people make when designing their fursonas vary wildly from “it looks like me irl” to “it looks like who I want to be”  to “I just really like this color scheme” to “this particular color/marking holds deep personal meaning to me” to “this particular pattern represents a particular defining moment in my life” to “idk it looks cool and i vibe with it” etc. etc. etc. Everyone has different reasons of varying depth for the decisions they make in designing their fursona.

Therefore, to design a fursona for Toby etc., it’s less a question of “what would this character look like as [insert species here]?” and more of “how would this character choose to present himself with his own [animal] character?”

And that’s a much trickier game than just transferring a character aesthetic to a new species. ^^; We have to kinda dive into the characters and makes some guesses about how they, if given infinite creative freedom to design an animal avatar with no rules or limits, would choose to present themselves.

So all that said, here’s what I came up with:

Starting with Toby because he’s the one who inspired the post. I think Toby might choose a wolfdog fursona. A lot of people who choose wolves as fursonas consider themselves to be overwhelmingly loyal to their friends, a trait that fits Toby very well. However, while Toby likes to be “cool”, I don’t think he really thinks of himself as much of an “alpha” type--he’s more of a sidekick, and he knows that, and he’s ok with that. He’s the wingman. So what better way to incorporate that than to add dog into the mix? Man’s best friend=Jim’s best friend. Sociable, humorous, and unwaveringly loyal. Wolfdog it is!

With the species decided, we can move on to the design itself.

I can’t imagine any form of Toby in anything other than warm colors. This is extra emphasized by the flamelike patterns on his legs and tail, which both speaks to his desire to be totally awesome-sauce as well as acts as an allusion to his flaming warhammer. It’s fairly common (not universal, but common) for people to give their fursonas a more “ideal” physique than the person actually has as a sort of way to live by proxy physical goals or fantasies they’ve been unable to attain irl for whatever reason. Given that we’ve seen Toby struggle with fitness from time to time, it wouldn’t shock me to see him take this route. His wolfdog self is still relatively short and stocky, but it’s all muscle, babey. 

This fursona is strong, fun, boisterous, and generally just kicks butt. Concentrated awesomesauce flows through his veins. Just don't mess with his friends, or you’ll feel the flames!

.

Moving on to Jim. Jim was the hardest to nail down, and most definitely the hardest to keep my personal biases out of oof. Which I may have failed to do anways because yes, ok, I made my favorite character a blue feline, sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  But hear me out first!

For Jim I ultimately settling on a cheetah/lion hybrid.

Cheetahs, in a way, are sort of the underdogs (er...cats?) of the feline world--at least, in their local ecosystems. They are built wholly for speed, not strength--and as such, just about every other large predator in their environment has them beat when it comes to raw strength. Remind you of a certain Trollhunter? plus the long lanky legs. don’t forget those lol

However, because of this disadvantage, cheetahs...usually surrender. They know it’s not worth it to defend their kill from larger, stronger opponents, so they’ll give it up and just catch something else. This aspect doesn’t quite fit our protective, selfless protagonist all too eager to risk everything to save his loved ones--so a pure cheetah may not be the right choice.

So what animal is brave and protective? That’s where the lion part comes in, of course!

Why not just make him a pure lion? Well, a little similar to making Toby a wolfdog instead of a pure wolf. A straight-up lion feels a little too “chad” for our sweet Jimbo. Too much of a jock. 

Jim has the humble underdog nature of a cheetah as well as the bravery and fierce protective drive of a lion. Cheelion? Leetah? idk, but let’s design it!

Like Toby and warm colors, I don’t think I can possibly associate Jim with any color but blue. While it’s never directly stated, given that we’ve never really seen him wear any other color (with the exception of the Eclipse armor), I think it’s pretty safe to assume that that’s his favorite. Blue sweater, blue jeans, blue shoes, even his backpack and bedsheets are blue. So naturally, his fursona would be predominantly blue as well! Plus some yellowish accents to (somewhat) match the natural colors of his chosen species(s).

I imagine he originally designed the character without horns, but then added them after becoming the Trollhunter, since it became such a major and impactful aspect of his life.

His lion’s mane also continues down his back in imitation of the “mantle” found on baby cheetahs. This youthful feature could subtly represent the fact that he’s been forced to grow up too fast and take on so much responsibility so young--so his fursona can still be young and carefree as long as he likes even while his real self struggles with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

This fursona is relaxed, calm, and confident. He’s not just cool--he’s crispy!

.

Lastly but not leastly, we have Claire. Out of the three, I think Claire was actually the easiest to choose--or at least, I had the clearest idea of what I thought she might go for.

Claire is a bit of an interesting duck, because while she’s shown to be fairly popular at school, she’s definitely far from the stereotype of The Popular Girl™. Yes she’s smart and pretty, but she’s also a little spunky or even a bit quirky--she’s a theatre kid, she’s a huge fan of hard rock band Papa Skull, and while I wouldn’t quite call her “rebellious” per se, she’s certainly willing to bend some rules if she feels the situation calls for it (not telling her parents that she was going to the concert with Steve, literally sneaking into Jim’s basement to try to find out what was up with him, etc).

That said, I think Claire might go for a hyena fursona--something a little out of the box, but not totally out of left field. (she also shows a slight Gurl Power™ streak here and there “the staff was not meant to be wielded by man--” “I am not a man!!!”) and if you know anything about hyenas...well, yeah lol)

I think Claire would lean into her punk-rock “rebellious” side with her fursona design. This character is completely free of the pressure of being the councilwoman’s daughter and having to maintain her mother’s public reputation, and thus allows Claire to express a less restrained side of herself. She has a bold semi-edgy color scheme with bright accents (and some earrings to match her person’s hair clips) while still remaining feminine and (her own brand of) fashionable. 

This fursona is spunky and sassy; she’s spicy and sweet all rolled up into one. She knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to chase it down. She lives her own life and she’s dang proud of it.

.

....sooooo yeah there’s my take on what Toby’s, Jim’s, and Claire’s fursonas could hypothetically be. And I guess since this post was inspired by a joke about Toby’s infatuation with the school mascot, here’s just some quick thoughts on how they might approach fursuiting to end us off:

Jim I don’t see as much of a suiter. He might try it once or twice if given the opportunity, but at the end of the day it’s not really his cup of tea--he’d rather act as the “handler” for his friends, if anything.

Toby and Claire, on the other hand, I could definitely see as suiters. In fact, with her interest in acting, Claire would probably particularly enjoy it--she’d be one of those suiters who really gets into character, absolutely refuses to break the magic publicly (outside of any actual medical emergency), and popular at cons because she just performs so well. 

Toby, meanwhile, would be the more chill type--uses his normal voice in-suit, isn’t really too stressed about “breaking the magic”, just kinda hanging around like he would normally except “look I’m a talking dog, cool right?”. 

also while I was typing this it occurred to be that since Eli is canonically a cosplayer then he could be a fursuiter as well; in his case i imagine he actually made his own suit it’s a protogen and it’s full of little LEDs and other electric gadgets, it’s not the prettiest thing ever as sewing is not his forte but boy did he try!! good for him. good for him

[anthropwashere]

thank u for the tags yelling at us youths to sit up straight. im only 23 but disabled and my back is about the only part of me that ISNT fucked up yet, so i will attempt to not destroy my spinal cord in your honor (•̀ᴗ•́)و

Gonna take this as an opportunity to go off on a tangent and emphasize how out of nowhere your health can 180 in ways that will have a lasting impact for the rest of your life, and that this can happen at any moment no matter how careful or healthy you try to be

-I grew up poor enough to not have regular access to medical/dental/etc. for years at a time, avoided serious issues by sheer fucking luck and an extended family that did not sign up to raise another kid but thank christ they stepped up for me.

-managed to stay healthy enough to join the Air Force at 18. this was good news because the alternative was being homeless (again), which gosh got old fast. free medical? fuck yeah, uncle sam! my teeth are a mess and it sure would be nice to have glasses again!

-knees started acting up in BMT. slowly got worse as the years passed. haven't needed surgery yet but they make some wild gristly sounds when I go up stairs these days and anything more than a casual running regimen is immediately vetoed

-deployed when I was 22. wearing body armor was Not Great for my upper back. lost ability to pop anything in my spine from the shoulder blades up, gained some truly unsexy shooting pains in exchange

-several years of severe headaches i ignored because lmao childhood trauma and also not wanting to be seen as weak due to being just about the only enlisted woman in almost every unit/office i worked in.

-marriage imploded at 26 which gosh, did NOT do good things for the mild anxiety/depression i'd been staunchly ignoring for like a decade at that point. i used to think commercials for anti-depressants were like, rude satire. nope. that really is just how shitty a brain can get!

-apropos of FUCKALL I woke up one morning just before I turned 27 with a headache that has varied in intensity and location but has never gone away. latest diagnosis is a type of headache that's so persistent and resistant to treatment that there are known cases of people having this type for 30+ years. i could be one of those unlucky fucks! or it could go away tomorrow! we just don't know!

-spent 2018-2021 making EXTENSIVE USE of that free medical trying to figure out what the hell was going on or to at least find literally anything that will help reduce/control it. I have at this moment within arm's reach something like $2k worth of medical devices I got for free to help with the migraines.

-they don't.

-one time i tried to do a tally of how much I would have had to be pay out of pocket for all the primary care visits, the specialty care visits, the physical therapy, the stupid fucking useless acupuncture, the Botox, the ~16 different medications, the ER visits from bad reactions to medications, etc. etc. etc. if i hadn't been in the AF and I decided to go lay down in a dark room with an ice pack and not think about it instead.

-i did spend thousands out of pocket on a chiropractor, massages, and gas to keep driving to all those fucking appointments.

-during all this the constant migraines wreaked havoc on my neck, jaw, and shoulders, which in turn contributed to a vicious cycle of pain where doing anything beyond boiling myself in a dark shower 1-2 times a day did not only seem more trouble than it was worth, but WAS more trouble than it was worth.

-i was also diagnosed with fibromyalgia at 28. the rheumatology clinic gave me a pamphlet that was less informative than a google search and a politely phrased 'you're young and you still have all your limbs, why are you complaining? go away.'

-fibromyalgia diagnosis was given despite more evidence pointing to Sjogren's syndrome, which is an actual autoimmune disorder that sure, won't kill me, but it WOULD explain why my teeth have only gotten worse despite extremely thorough annual workups. it can cause all sorts of fun organ dysfunctions too. i could also go blind! either way neither is curable and whatever i've got showed up a decade earlier than is typically expected for my demographic!

-it wasn't any of the squillion medical experts i saw but literally just some other woman in my squadron who suggested i put my name on the Airborne Hazards and Open Burn Pit Registry, because she developed all sorts of autoimmune fuckery after her deployment. all of That is still being researched and debated and such, and has been for decades. maybe breathing too much sand and burning garbage gave me brain damage! maybe not!

-also during all this i lost half my hair due to damage caused by using Devacurl products. if you use that brand there are currently multiple lawsuits going on! you or your loved ones may be entitled to compensation, etc.

-anyway i turned 30 this year and a month later the Air Force kicked me out with 90% disability pay, a couple anti-depressant/anxiety prescriptions, and 0 fanfare.

-things could have gone so much worse for me and STILL COULD AT ANY MOMENT. I never considered myself invincible when I was younger but my good fucking gracious chronic pain isn't something i'd wish on anybody. i am terrified of the state my body might be in when i'm 40, never mind when i'm actually old. i am terrified of tomorrow. this is probably the severe anxiety talking.

-at least i've managed to avoid the heart disease rampant in my family? so far????

IN CONCLUSION, TO THE YOUTHS:

sit up straight, do some stretches, go for walkies, eat a vegetable, turn the music down a little, clean linens are the best gift you can give yourself, however much water you typically drink in a day it isn't enough, therapy does actually help, it's okay to be mad sometimes but i'm begging you to find at least one thing to laugh about every day, please take care of yourselves, and most importantly ENJOY your bodies while the going's good. this meat is expiring fast and there are no refunds.

[nerdypanda3126]

Playing with Fire

Hope you had a Happy Valentine's Day, @bloody-no-kissu! I stepped in as your @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers secret admirer 😁💖

The prompt I chose to go with was: fantasy, the princess falls for the dragon instead – marinette is a princess and bc of a curse she is locked in a tower with a dragon (luka). while she waits for the destined knight to save her from her curse she spends more and more time with luka. they fall in love.

So I did take a few liberties on this to weave it together, but I really hope you like it! Huge thanks to @writtenbyrain for the beta read on this!  

Read on Ao3 

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Marinette had been told the story of her curse so many times she could recite it by heart. 

“You were a baby,” her dad would tell her. “A tiny little thing, still all wrapped up in diapers. And that… thing—” he always growled at that, as if the dragon she’d been found curled up with had personally insulted him. He would shake his head, and give her a pitying look. “—It stole you from us. And by the time we found you, you were already cursed… already...” he would gesture to her at that point, indicating the way she was every night as soon as the moon slipped above the horizon.

Every night she was engulfed in a blue flame that made it impossible for anyone to come near. Impossible for her to be touched. 

What she was never able to find out, though, was why. Why the dragon had apparently chosen her to curse, why it hadn’t killed her outright when she was barely out of diapers. Why she kept dreaming of sleeping safely within its coils, her fire cooled as if that was where she had always belonged. 

She knew where it lived now. Everyone knew. It had taken up residence in a lonely tower high up on the mountain. Everyone said it was guarding a valuable secret; why else would it be there? Of course, people had tried to find out, although they often came back singed and babbling. Something about a dark sorcerer or a beautiful prince or a shapeshifter or… the stories always varied. 

Finally, a reward was offered. The dragon had been a menace for far too long, the writ proclaimed. Anyone able to bring back its head would be handsomely compensated.

More people flocked to the cause: soldiers from far away places wearing shiny armor and bearing sharp, glinting swords, sorcerers with staffs and books claiming they had this method or another to calm the beast. None of them returned. 

Night after night, Marinette’s flame burned hotter, brighter. And night after night she dreamed of the dragon. She couldn’t tell anymore what was memory and what was a dream. She thought she remembered the dragon plucking her from the river she’d fallen into, breathing life and fire into her lungs, curling up around her to keep her warm until her parents found her. But that couldn’t have been true. The dragon was dangerous, everyone said so. And it had left her with this unbearable curse. 

“I’m going after it,” she proclaimed to her parents after the worst night she'd had in all of her eighteen years of bearing the curse. 

Her dreams had been strong that night. She had awoken to her mom shaking her, screaming, desperately pleading with her to wake up. Her hands and arms up to the elbows had been irreparably burned in the process. It wasn't until Marinette had struggled into consciousness that she realized she’d been burning their house down in her sleep. 

Her parents shared a look after her declaration. One of, “We shouldn’t let her, but what else can we do?” 

Marinette winced as she caught a glimpse of her mom’s burned forearms, still wrapped in bandages and salves to soothe the shiny, blistered skin underneath. Her eyes slid over to the corner where she slept, with only her silhouette outlined in the charcoal her fire had left behind. 

“I have to do this,” she said resolutely. “If there’s one good thing to come of this—” she gestured to herself and to the flames that spit and crackled around her “—it means I can’t be burned if I go at night. With the money, you can fix what happened. I'll stay in the stone tower after the dragon's gone where I can't hurt anyone else. Everyone wins," she finished glumly. 

Her dad sighed in resignation and wrapped an arm around her mom’s shoulders.

So the next day just before dusk, they packed a meal for her to take with her, kissed her fondly on both her cheeks, and waved goodbye as she started up the path. 

For it was goodbye. A sacrifice Marinette was more than willing to make. 

As she trudged up the mountain path, the forest grew darker and more foreboding. The only saving grace was that as the light faded, her flame started burning, providing her with light to see by, although she did catch a branch or two on fire as she went. She poured her water out carefully on each one, putting it out without wasting her own resources. If she ran out before she made it to the stone tower, it was entirely possible she’d burn the entire forest down, and it would spread back to her village, back to her parents’ house. 

She soldiered on, even as brambles tore at her skirt and arms, as she grew weary of walking, as she ran lower and lower on life-saving water. 

It was the dead of night when she finally reached the tower, and the dragon wasn’t anywhere in sight. She walked up to the tower using the flagstone path, admiring the well-manicured garden from afar. The tower was quiet, almost as if it was slumbering along with the dragon.

She ran her hand along the cool stone wall as she mounted the steps one by one, dreading what she might find when she got to the top. 

Halfway up, though, she ran into—well, if there was a beautiful prince trapped here, then it must be him. He was tall and pale, with a shock of dark hair and enthralling blue eyes framed by deep purple circles, as if he never slept. He seemed startled to see her at first, though she was used to that. A girl on fire was a startling sight.

But then he reached out a hand, smiling. She flinched away from him. His kind smile shifted to sympathy and he dropped his hand. 

“That’s quite a power you’ve got,” he noted easily. 

She shifted uncomfortably away from him. He didn’t seem affected by the heat she always emanated, but she was still careful not to get too close to anyone. 

“The dragon cursed me with it when I was a small child,” she said.

His head quirked sideways, as if he were appraising her or trying to remember something. When he didn’t respond, Marinette tried again. 

“I’ve come for the reward. Is it asleep?” 

“He,” the man said stiffly. “And he’s gone for now. He disappears at night. You’re welcome to come back in the morning to try your luck.”

There was a note of despondency in his tone, and he scooted past her in the narrow stairwell to continue on his way down. 

She considered continuing up the stairs, but if the dragon was gone, there was no point to it. She hesitated before she followed him—the prince, he had to be—down and back outside. 

There was a pool of moonlight in the very center of the garden, and he walked over to it and lay down as if basking in it. The sigh he let out was at once content and terribly lonely. For some reason, it pulled at her heart. She knew that feeling. She had come to terms with her curse, with her lot in life. But that didn’t make it any better when she was unable to sleep soundly without worrying about her flames burning out of control.

She came as close to him as she dared and sat cross-legged on the flagstone path. 

“You’re not… trapped here?” she asked. Every story she’d ever heard of the handsome young prince was that he was trapped, doomed, kept prisoner by the monster. 

He didn’t open his eyes, but he smiled again. “Oh, I am.” 

“But…” she glanced around. There were no fences, no guards, no magical barriers. She had walked right in, after all. “Can’t you just… leave?” 

He did open an eye at that. “Can’t you just… put that fire out?” He smirked before he closed his eyes again and settled with his face towards the moon. “I’ve been trapped here for longer than I care to remember and now…” He looked over at her again, his blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. “So are you.” 

She looked around again. Still, nothing that would prevent her, or him for that matter, from leaving. He sighed. 

“The dragon, he’s been waiting for you. That… well, some probably call it a curse, but it's more like a bond.” 

“A bond?” 

“You were a small child, you said? When it happened?” 

She nodded, and he nodded back in answer. 

“The dragon was young, too. A child in his own right. He wouldn’t have known…” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “He wouldn’t have known that if he shared his breath with a human, he’d be claiming them. Bonded with them for the rest of his life, tethered to them. Cursed to share a half-life with them.” 

“I’m… sorry... “ She struggled to comprehend what he was telling her. “You’re saying… I’ve been claimed?” 

“If I had to guess, I'd say your fire only burns at night, right? As soon as the sun sets? Maybe only while you slept at first, but it's gotten worse lately?” 

She blinked at him. Her mother’s burned arms floated back to the forefront of her memory. 

“You have a fire burning in you that’s never been yours to control. If you had stayed away from him any longer, you would’ve burnt out of control until everyone you knew and loved was dead. You’re his and he’s yours, for better or worse.” 

“I… wait… you’re saying…”

“You’re intended to be either the dragon's bride or his killer,” he finished bitterly, turning his head away from her. “Not that he has much say in the matter, either, if it’s any consolation.” 

“But if I do… kill him…” she started, grimacing at the thought, “do you think that would lift my curse?” 

“Yours and mine, too.”

“You don’t look very cursed to me,” she muttered. Other than being trapped, as he’d claimed, he seemed perfectly normal. Every bit the beautiful prince she’d heard tales of. With the moonlight falling over him, he was paler still and he looked like a marble statue that had fallen on the ground. His shaggy dark hair flopped over his ears in ragged lines, and even resting he looked tense.

To her surprise, he started chuckling, although there wasn’t any mirth to it. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Nothing,” he said, although he sat up and faced her. “I just wonder if you’ll still think that in the morning.” 

“What happens in the morning?” 

“The dragon comes back,” he said simply, and he pushed himself up to stand. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in. I have a feeling I’ll sleep better knowing my savior has come at last.”

He quirked his lips in a funny sideways smile, then offered her a hand again. She shook her head at him and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I promise.” 

She hesitated. The fear of hurting him flared strong and her fire started flickering and sputtering along with her anxiety. His eyes softened, and he reached forward, into her aura of flames. To her complete and utter surprise, his hand came through unscathed. 

“I told you, it’s okay,” he said. 

Stunned, Marinette  laid her hand in his and he helped her stand up. Her fire raced along his arm and arced over his body until he was just as engulfed as she was. But rather than being harmed by it, it seemed he was helping her with it, sharing some of the burden. In fact, when he released her, she looked down at her hands and was shocked to find that the moonlight was the only thing illuminating them. 

She looked back up at him and he smiled, although it was still tinged with sadness, and he gestured with his head to the spot of moonlight that still spilled across the grass.

She ran, giddy to be released from her curse for the first night in her entire life and fearful that it would come back before she could race back to the safety of the stone path. As she rolled in the cool grass, she couldn't help the giggles that escaped her, the pure bliss of being safe under the stars overtaking her. When she finally stilled, she sighed as she looked up at the bright, twinkling lights, unobscured for the first time. They were so clear, all the way up there, like she could reach out and touch one. She lifted her hand up and pretended she could, cupping the full moon between her hands as if she held it close.

She’d gotten so used to the flames crackling around her that without them the world seemed deathly silent. Peaceful, but eerie. 

When she sat back up and turned to look back at the path, she found that the prince had disappeared. To turn in, as he’d said, although he hadn’t told her where she might sleep.

She looked at her hands again, so foreign to her without the bright blue flames. They looked smaller. More fragile. 

Suddenly, she realized that was the one thing protecting her from the dragon. The reason she’d felt so confident in coming up here. She couldn’t be burned at night because she was already engulfed in flames. But he’d taken her flames away. He’d gifted her the ability to roll in the grass without burning anything down, sure, but he’d also stolen her protection. 

Even though her flames weren’t snapping around her, she felt the panic rise up in her chest. What if he was a dark sorcerer after all? What if it was his job to lure people here and steal their power? What if this had all been a trap? 

She stumbled to her feet and clenched her fists. He’d seemed so kind. She’d trusted him. She hadn’t thought he would steal from her.

She marched back inside, uncaring if the grass sizzled under her feet or not. The tower stairs only went up, so she followed them, winding her way up to the top, unsure of what she might say or do if she found him, but certain that she had to find him regardless.

The sound of heavy, deep breathing hit her first. It wasn’t human, that was for sure. It was something much bigger. 

She tiptoed around the last bend, her fear climbing with each step.

She held her breath as a large room at the top came into view. One wall was completely open, and there was a huge, sleek, black, serpentine figure wound tightly around itself in the moonlight that spilled into the corner. One wing was draped over its head, like a curtain.

She held her breath as she backed out of the room. 

Hadn’t he said the dragon wouldn’t come back until morning? Hadn’t he said it disappeared at night? Hadn’t he said—

She cursed the dark sorcerer, the beautiful prince, whoever he was, under her breath as she turned and tripped her way back down the stairs. He had also said she couldn’t leave, but based on the way he’d lied about everything else, that’s exactly what she would do. She would run, all the way back to her parents, to her village, even if it meant sleeping on a stone bed the rest of her life. 

As she ran towards the forest, her steps started sizzling underneath her again, and her hands started to flame up before she could stop them. Her tears dissipated before they even had a chance to fall. 

From the top of the tower, she heard a strangled cry, still inhuman, but closer to it, and filled with pain. It spurred her on, although the fire was starting to burn white around her hands, stinging her painfully, and she shook her hands, trying to put it out. The farther she ran, the more the fire seeped into her skin, making her cry out. 

There was a great whoosh of wind behind her, then footsteps, matching her pace, although more spread out. The pain was blinding, but still she pushed on against whatever unknown barrier was causing it. She cradled her hands to her chest and struggled as each step forward was now a shooting, searing, white-hot bolt of pain through her. 

Strong hands caught her from behind and pulled her backwards—the hands of the dark, beautiful sorcerer. She kicked against him, trying to pull away, but he held fast. The pain behind her eyes cleared and she realized he was taking the fire away from her again. 

“You… can’t… leave…” he huffed as he dragged her backwards. She tried to claw away from him every step of the way.

Finally, though, he’d pulled her back to the clearing and dropped her on the stone path unceremoniously. She bolted back up to her feet and he caught her around her middle and shoved her back down, moving at the same time to stand in front of her and block her path. 

“You can’t leave,” he panted again. “Or we both die.” 

“I’m supposed to believe you’re kidnapping me for my own good?” she spat and scrambled back to her feet. “And who the hell are you, anyway?” 

“Sorry. Luka. I’m Luka.” He held his hand out for her and she smacked it away. He winced. “You have every right to be upset. But listen to me. I’m just trying to protect you. You can’t leave this tower without me.” 

He was still trying to catch his breath, and she noticed for the first time that his eyes had changed to serpentine slits and there was a distinct black sheen on the backs of his hands that worked its way up his forearms.

As she watched, he grabbed her hand and shivered as she was once again engulfed in blue flames and he returned to normal. 

"We're connected," he explained softly. "We share the fire. It's mine in the morning and yours at night. Now that you've come here, you can't leave unless you're either with me or there's no fire to share, or it rips us both apart. So for your own sake, you either stay put or you kill me, do you understand?"

He released her hand, and she looked at them incredulously. That he'd taken her fire away and given it back was proof enough of what he was saying. 

"Kill you?" she asked, his words sinking in through the remnants of pain behind her eyes. "As in… you're the…the...?"

"Yes."

"But you're…" she gestured to him, to his humanness, and he shifted uncomfortably under her bewildered gaze. 

"I know. Like I said, it's yours at night. That was the first time in 18 years I've had the moonlight on my scales." 

She gasped for breath as her fire started spitting around her, casting off sparks that came dangerously close to the grass. "I can't… you're human, or half-human or… I can't… I can't do this!" 

"That's okay. Hey. It's okay." His hands hovered over hers, not quite touching her, leaving her fire with her. "What's your name? Can you tell me your name?" 

"Ma-Ma-Marinette…" she stuttered as she attempted to keep breathing. 

"Okay, Ma-Ma-Marinette." He smiled, trying to put her at ease. "Let's just take this slow, okay? Would you be willing to stay here tonight with me? We can talk more in the morning." 

"You're a dragon in the morning," she said, then a hysteric giggle burst out of her at how ridiculous that sounded. 

He chuckled with her and laid the back of his hand against hers. As her fire arced across to him, his eyes turned into slits again and his scales slid over his arm. "I don't have to be anymore." 

She gaped at him as he pulled his hand away again and slid back to humanity. 

"One night. That's all I'm asking." 

Her dream popped back in her head and she blushed even before the question was out of her mouth. "If I sleep… you know, touching you, or like, against you… would that…?" She gestured to the fire still burning around her and then to him. 

He smiled again and chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I think so. But everything's stone, so you won't burn anything down if you'd… you know, if you'd rather not." 

She considered for a moment until her curiosity got the better of her.

"One night," she agreed.

He let out a sigh of relief and gestured for her to lead the way. 

As she mounted the stone steps again, her fire—his fire, she corrected herself, he'd shared it with her—bounced off the smooth stone and flickered along with her nerves. This time at the top of the stairs, she paused to look at the room Luka had called his own for 18 years.

There was a nest of pillows piled in the corner, a stack of books with open pages fluttering in the breeze that flowed through the wide opening, a lyre leaning against the smooth wall, and bits and pieces of armor lined up along the wall like trophies. She recognized a few here and there and gulped. No wonder they hadn't returned. 

She half-turned to him, her question dying in her throat, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"Tomorrow," he said, gesturing for her to continue past everything. She did, but paused before her flames touched the pillows. 

"Here," he said, and threw out a hand for her to take. Tentatively, she took hold of him and watched as he shivered and his transformation took hold. 

He kept eye contact with her as scales slithered over his arms, his hands turned to claws, wings erupted from somewhere around his shoulders, and his body elongated until it was a solid length of powerful muscle.

She slid her hand to what was about his neck and he blinked slowly at her before lowering himself to the pillows and coiling his body tightly around itself, tucking his legs in what seemed to be a familiar position. 

It was a bit awkward to maneuver herself into his coils without taking her hand off him, but they managed and he draped his wing over her, for warmth she assumed, because the breeze that was drifting in was nipping at her exposed skin. And he was warm, she realized, like having his fire returned to him made him a living furnace.

She could see it, when she twisted to look at him: a deep blue illuminating the thinner skin at the base of his neck and flaring brighter in his chest as he breathed. 

She curled into him and fell asleep with his deep, heavy breathing in her ears and his sleek scales shifting under her hands.  

[sansacherie]

You know with how often people bring up Sansa going to Cersei as some ultimate betrayal of the Starks, you’d think they’d remember that Ned went to Cersei too. And it wouldn’t matter if Sansa told Cersei they were leaving because she wouldn’t have known anything about Ned discovering the incest without him literally telling her what he knew and giving her time to hatch her own plan. It’s Ned’s mercy that dooms him and it’s much more narratively satisfying than it would be if it was all Sansa’s fault than if Ned has literally no influence over his own story. Ned also puts his own men into the city watch, leaving his personal guard very small. Ned has much more influence than his 11 year old daughter.

Oh, and when Ned first tells Sansa and Arya that they’ll leaving KL, Sansa says this, “I’ll be good, you’ll see, just let me stay and I promise to be as fine and noble and courteous as the queen.” Ned literally knows that Sansa idolizes the queen and says literally not one word to her about Cersei not being trustworthy. Sansa is an 11 year old girl who’s upset about leaving a place she liked with tons of things she’d always dreamed of, so she goes to someone she thinks will let her stay. Ned never once warns her against Cersei the way her warns Arya even though he knows that she thinks the queen is perfect.

Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father's head. 

Sansa didn’t go to Cersei out of some devious need to betray her father or to see him hurt.  It was an act of rebellion - an 11-year-old child seeking the help of a trusted authority figure because she doesn’t understand what her father is doing - because as it’s been pointed out,  Ned failed to properly communicate with Sansa just truly how dangerous their situation was.   I’ve seen people argue that he did when he told Sansa that he wanted her and Arya back for their safety-  but looking back at the chapter (Sansa III) he says nothing to Sansa about his mistrust of Cersei Lannister, thus the explanation he gives is in fact INSUFFICIENT.  And I’m sure someone will counter this by saying “well, he was her parent. She should have just obeyed, explanation or no.”  And I’m sorry, but I don’t agree, and it’s because of this - 

  Sansa must wed Joffrey, that is clear now, we must give them no grounds to suspect our devotion.

Sansa had every right to a proper explanation given that her father betrothed her to Joffrey with the intention of using it as a cover to investigate the Lannisters for murder.  If Arya who wasn’t in the position that Sansa was as the betrothed to the future king deserved honesty, then so did Sansa.    Also, because as it’s been raised before as to why Sansa continued to trust Cersei after the Trident- it’s been pointed out before that despite everything that happened, nothing happened to Sansa and Joff’s betrothal.  From Sansa’s perspective, she was still excepted to marry into this family.  Consequentially, it is no wonder she ended up romanticising the Lannisters again, rather than face the horrible truth about who they really are.  It’s why she insists Joff is nothing like his father, that “old drunken king” even though there are several parallels between Joffrey’s behaviour at the Trident and Robert’s at the tourney feast.  Such actions don’t paint her as stupid. They reveal her as human - after all, how many of us have lied to ourselves?  Sansa isn’t alone in this.  Ned lies to himself about Robert- taking a while to truly accept that his friend has changed. Tyrion lies to himself about Shae. Both were also much older than Sansa, who was a child. 

Furthermore, if Sansa going to Cersei was truly so instrumental in Ned dying then you would think the show’s decision to cut it out would have some sort of effect.  Except it doesn’t really.  Ned still goes to Cersei (who is already planning her own shit) Littlefinger still betrays Ned, Janos Slynt also betrays Ned, Ned still sends much of his guard away causing him to be more vulnerable.  It’s almost like Sansa going to Cersei had little to no impact at all, other than her becoming captive and Arya going on the run. If you want to blame her for the death of the Stark household then fine as it was just meant to be them and the girls going home,  but again I can go back to Ned and ask why the hell didn’t he appoint guards for his daughters, given how dangerous he thought KL was, to prevent such a situation.  Because if your daughter is telling you how much she admires the queen (the woman you distrust) then that may be a clue you need to keep an eye on her.  Also regarding Ned- he was actually planning on staying in Kingslanding.  He wanted the girls back in WF, but he said nothing about himself. So hypothetically let's just say the girls did get sent away, certain factors will still exist.  Robert will still die, Littlefinger will see betray him, Renly a possible ally, will still be gone.  Joffrey will still go mad at Ned declaring him a bastard, and Cersei will still arrest him for treason.  In the books, Ned falsely confesses to treason in order to protect Sansa (paralleling his decision to lying about Jons parentage in order to protect him)  However even without Sansa’s life being in jeopardy, the outcome IMO would still have been the same.  One,  Varys obviously has his own agenda and I could very easily see him persuade Ned to confess in order to prevent his son Robb from going to war-

"Robb is only a boy," Ned said, aghast.

If Ned falsely confesses to treason in order to protect Sansa who is “no more than a child”, then it is very easy to see him do the same for Robb to protect him from having to go to war, that he saw only as “a boy”.  I always found that interesting he would say that, given that this is the same man who tells his wife their three year old son “won’t be three forever”.  And yet here faced with the prospect of his other son going to war, Ned is horrified.  It’s probably all coming back to him - how he also went to war  for the first time when he was not much older than Robb. Neds chapters showcase the trauma that he suffered because of it, which furthers my belief that he would try to prevent Robb from experiencing that.   Thus Ned still “confesses”, and he still dies.  Because nothing has been done to remove the fact that Joffrey is wildly unpredictable that doesn’t listen to his counsellors (theres a reason why Tommen is regarded as more controllable) or the fact that it has been strongly implied that LF might have had some influence on Joffrey suddenly changing script-

His queen mother stood beside him in a black mourning gown slashed with crimson, a veil of black diamonds in her hair. Arya recognized the Hound, wearing a snowy white cloak over his dark grey armor, with four of the Kingsguard around him. She saw Varys the eunuch gliding among the lords in soft slippers and a patterned damask robe, and she thought the short man with the silvery cape and pointed beard might be the one who had once fought a duel for Mother.

The High Septon clutched at the king's cape, and Varys came rushing over waving his arms, and even the queen was saying something to him, but Joffrey shook his head. 

You know whose behaviour isn’t described here? Littlefinger’s.  There is no description of LF acting shocked or panicked.  That’s very telling.

tldr: sansa is not to blame for her father’s death. it was various other factors that ultimately ended up dooming him. sansa went to cersei not because she wanted to “betray” her father, but because she trusted cersei. it was a horrible situation in which a child’s trust was taken advantage of in the most wretched way, and its time the fandom stop blaming sansa for it. 

[destiniesfic]

Folktober 05 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels. In which Jude was never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk—mostly—until the night they tried to steal her twin sister away.

First | Prev

The door is the first test. It is difficult not to stare at every new thing I see. There are lamps on either side of the polished wood doors, and at first I think they’re just regular lights, but of course nothing here is that simple; the light comes from two tiny glowing faeries, trapped behind glass. I am immediately filled with questions. Did they volunteer for the job? Is this a punishment for some unknown crime? Do they eat, and if so, who feeds them? Do they live forever, miserable in their prison, or do they eventually burn themselves out?

But I am meant to be glamoured and not ask questions, so I don’t, even though I want to pound my hands against the glass until they bleed and the tiny faeries are freed. I keep my eyes straight ahead and hardly even flinch when I notice the grotesque carving on the door. It looks horrible, a twisted and terrible face, the knocker piercing its nose.

Cardan acts as if this is all totally normal, because of course to him it is, because he lives here and none of this is new to him. Without any hesitation, he reaches for the door knocker. And as he does, the carving’s eyes spring open.

To keep from screaming, I bite my lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. My entire body goes taut, a coiled spring waiting for release. I force myself to breathe in through my nose.

“My prince,” says the carving.

Cardan smiles at the door in a way I am not even sure he smiled at his friends. “My door.”

I am relieved when the next words from the door’s awful mouth are “Welcome home” and it swings open to admit us. Cardan stalks inside, and I follow.

There is a faerie servant waiting for us, wearing some kind of livery. “Prince Cardan,” they say, with a small bow. “Your brother would like to speak with you.”

“A pity for him,” Cardan replies, handing his cloak to another servant. No one offers to take the jacket I am wearing. “I would like that less.”

“I am afraid it was not a request,” the first servant says. “He wishes to speak with you and the mortal girl you have brought back with you.”

Cardan glances back at me, a frown turning down the corners of his full mouth. “Very well, although I cannot imagine why. Come, Jude.”

I bristle at the command, but I follow after him; it’s what the glamoured girl I’m supposed to be would do. I force a little smile on my lips and trot after him. “What’s going on?” I whisper through it.

“I know not.” The frown deepens. “And I like that even less. Stay close to me and face front, no matter what you see. And under no circumstances may you antagonize Balekin as you do me. Am I understood?”

I want to tell him that if he thinks my meager resistance so far has been antagonism, he doesn’t really know anything about hardship, but there’s an urgency to his voice, maybe something like nerves or fear, that makes me think he’s being serious.

“Totally,” I say, and then I fall back a little so that I trail him.

Soon I see why he warned me to stare straight ahead. As we walk through the hallway, I see another human for the first time, a young man dressed in the same palace livery. At first I want to call out to him, to scream, to tell him I’ve been taken and he has too and we should both run away from this place, but I notice the glazed look in his eyes, and, as we approach, his cracked fingers and chapped lips. He hums to himself as he polishes an old suit of armor on display, and doesn’t seem to notice as we pass.

I shudder. Cardan may have kidnapped me, true. He and his friends might have intended to do terrible things to my sister, and he may still intend to do terrible things to me. But at least I have been spared that fate, the loss of my all my faculties, of any control.

I’m not relieved for long, because Hollow Hall still has horrors in store for me. Soon we come to another set of gleaming doors, through which I can hear the sounds of chatter and the faint thrumming of music. The doors are thrown open for us by another pair of servants, and then we are in the middle of the great hall.

There is what is clearly a party happening. Well, I assume it’s a party, what parties are in fairyland. It looks like the kind of scene HBO would get in trouble for when casting a bunch of nude extras. I mean, by human standards, it would definitely be considered an orgy, but I am beginning to think that human and faerie standards are very different.

And that’s not to say all of the Folk are embracing. Some are eating golden fruit. Some are drinking wine and mead from great goblets, like the ones Cardan brought for his picnic jaunt into my world. Others seem to be falling asleep. Two might be strangling each other to the amusement of onlookers. There is a small band on the other side of the room that includes a green-skinned pixie playing a flute and a boy with goat legs playing an honest-to-god lute. And, yes, there are faeries in varying states of undress, on couches near the perimeter of the room or cushions on the floor, and some are definitely, um, occupied. They are clearly inhuman, but their bodies are human enough that I find myself blushing, out of embarrassment or mortification I don’t know.

But Cardan said I couldn’t stare, so I do my best not to. I face front and think about the places I would rather be. Which is pretty much anywhere. I imagine myself at the Starbucks downtown, sipping pumpkin spice lattes with Taryn, or bingeing She-Ra on Netflix with Vivi, like we had the last week of the summer. Then I think about how my parents will panic when they realize I’m not there in the morning—probably just a couple of hours from now—and I nearly feel sick to my stomach.

“Jude,” Cardan hisses through his teeth. “With me.”

I don’t nod. I just follow him as we chart a path through the revelers, managing to hold it together. A naked girl with daffodil-yellow skin and pink flowers for hair laughs and calls to him, trying to coax him into joining her circle, but he ignores her. I guess being a prince makes you popular.

Our destination is on the far side of the room, unfortunately, which means I have to do a lot more repression to make it there in one piece. For example, I can’t think about how a sharp-toothed faerie seems to be using a tiny bone to pick his teeth, or how another revel guest’s lips shine red like they’re wet with blood. At least I can easily pick out where we’re going and focus on that as I keep from tripping over any outstretched limbs.

Another faerie, one who looks much like Cardan with dark hair and high cheekbones, reclines in a wooden chair carved to look much like a throne, up on a dais. He is in conversation with a very lovely woman in a blue gown, but when she sees us approaching she kisses his ring and leaves. I almost want to tell her to come back, to not leave us with the host of this debauched fete. But there’s nothing to say. I’ll have no help here.

Cardan climbs the dais seps and stops before the chair, inclining his head with deference that seems a little mocking. Without being told, I know that this is Balekin, whom Cardan said was the eldest of the princes.

Brother,” Balekin says, and even I, an outsider, can sense the danger under the familial cheer. “How was your jaunt to the mortal world?”

“Tiresome,” Cardan says, stifling a yawn as he raises his head.

“I was told you brought a companion back with you.”

“Word travels fast.”

Balekin waits for him to say something else, and frowns when he doesn’t. I, meanwhile, am thinking of how I felt like we were being watched as we rode through the forest. Maybe we were. Or maybe the goblins who’d paddled the boat were spies. Nothing here was safe.

“Well, won’t you call her hence so I may examine her?” Balekin asks at last.

“Oh, indeed,” says Cardan, who clearly isn’t happy to have been called out for this. Still, he waves for me, and I take a step forward. “This mortal girl interfered with our fun. She was unhappy that Locke wanted to play with her twin sister.”

“Twins?” Balekin sounds intrigued. He sits forward. I’m learning that twins are probably rare among faeries if Taryn and I are so consistently interesting. “Why not keep them both?”

Cardan shrugs. “It was better sport to promise the freedom of one sister and then take the other. This one was so angry when she found her twin glamoured, and now she suffers that fate.”

I’m angry still, I want to shout. I’m angry now! I want to stomp my foot. I want to haul off and punch him. But I stay where I am, trying to keep the placid smile fixed on my face. I’d thought Cardan and his friends terrifying and wrong, but now that I am face-to-face with an adult faerie, I realize that Cardan can’t be much older than me—or whatever the faerie equivalent is. Maybe he’s ninety and just looks nineteen. But Balekin is clearly grown, less lanky than Cardan, more dangerous. He is looking at me in a way I don’t like.

“Come closer, child,” he says to me, and he almost sounds kind. I try not to hesitate as I approach his chair. When I am near enough, he reaches out and takes my face in his hand. There are thorns poking out of his skin, sharp enough to prick me. I stay very, very still and try to breathe normally.

“She’s not unpretty, is she?” he asks Cardan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan shift uneasily. “If mortals are your flavor.”

Balekin frowns, turning my face from one side to the other. “She has a familiar look. What is your name, girl?”

“Jude,” I say obediently.

“Your surname.”

“Smith,” I lie. It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Telling a faerie prince my actual full name seems like a really bad idea.

Balekin’s eyes narrow, but he releases me. My jaw tingles. He swirls the wine in his goblet the way sophisticated people do in movies, and then he leans back in his chair. “So, brother. Now you have a mortal girl. What will you do with her?”

“I have not yet decided,” Cardan replies, sounding thoughtful. “I would rather not put her to work in the kitchens or the hall. Mortals are so fragile, with such clumsy fingers. It amuses me to think of her carrying my schoolbooks, serving my wine, and sleeping at the foot of my bed like a faithful hound.”

“Trite amusements,” says Balekin, but I notice that he doesn’t seem displeased with his younger brother. “If you misplace this one it is of no consequence to me. Do as you will.”

Cardan inclines his head in a mock bow, then says again, “Come, Jude.”

Like the faithful hound, I follow at his heels. Unlike the faithful hound, I chafe doing so. But I can’t see another way out just now, so I will play this game until the end. Whatever that is.

---

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[nooneeverlookedforagirl]

AU where Drogo does not kill Viserys.

Jhiqui runs to him when Viserys drags Doreah to their tent by her hair. She says the foreigner is mad with anger and she fears for the khaleesi. He walks in just in time to see him slap Daenerys so hard she falls to the floor. Daenerys, the girl Viserys gifted him. Daenerys, his wife. Daenerys, the moon of his life. Daenerys with their son in her belly.

Whatever Viserys might have done or said after hitting her was nothing. His fierce little wife strikes him so hard across the face with a golden chain that it leaves a mark. He falls to the side just as Drogo reaches them, and he picks Viserys up by the throat with one hand.

Drogo might have killed him then and there, but his wife begs for his life. He is her brother, her only family, she says, in broken Dothraki. Perhaps he does not understand all the words, but he understands enough. Send him away, Daenerys pleads, but do not kill him.

It might have been better if he had. Viserys follows them on foot for many days. On their first encounter with another khalasar, just outside Vaes Dothrak, Drogo gifts him to the other khal. The Andal tells his wife, he knows, but she says nothing to him and if she is angry it does not show.

Then Drogo falls from his horse on the Dothraki Sea, and Daenerys is reborn in fire and blood. One of their children she names Viserion, for her brother.

When Daenerys burns the khals one of their riders brings her a gift. It's Viserys, filthy and despondent, but alive. Neither knows what quite to do with the other, the beggar king and the dragon queen. Still, for the blood they share, Daenerys gives him a simple tent and male servants and a single horse, and he rides with her when they leave.

He rides with her all the way to Meereen, for when she finds Drogon on the Great Grass Sea she tames him with nothing except a whip, her khalasar in awe as she lands him in their midst. She looks at Viserys, and he at her, and then she pulls him onto Drogon's scales and together the last dragons fly toward the besieged city.

Daenerys keeps looking at him like she expects a fit, like she expects him to demand what is rightfully his, from a crown or a Targaryen bride to rooms suitable for the queen's brother. He does none of that. When the city has calmed and the slavers have died, he goes to her in her counsel room and kneels before her, taking her hands in his.

"I'm sorry." Viserys says, looking up into her eyes. "I was a poor brother and a worse king. I hurt you, I thought only of myself, I sold you into slavery. I was young and afraid and desperate, but I should have protected you. All we had was each other."

This Mother of Dragons, this Breaker of Chains, she is above all a rescuer. Daenerys drowned the slaver cities in blood rather than leave strangers to their chains, she can scarcely abandon her own brother. Instead she drops to her knees beside him on the floor and tells him of all that has happened since they parted.

When she is done, Viserys says, "I cannot be the king. You must go on in my stead."

"The throne is yours by right." Dany replies.

Viserys pauses, then admits, "I can father no children, Dany. You are the last of our house. You hatched dragons and conquered cities. You must be the queen."

"The maegi said-"

"That you would go to the Dosh Khaleen and become one of them. Or that you would die on Drogo's funeral pyre." Her brother touches her face with a gentleness she has never felt from him before. "A witch who murdered your son and husband is not a reliable source of information, Dany."

"If one of us has a child, then they must take the throne," she insists, "I am the blood of the dragon and for that I ruled, but Viserys I only want peace. The little house with the lemon trees and the red door. Peace."

"Let us rule together, then. As brother and sister," Viserys tells her, "We are the last of our blood and we only have each other."

Then they return to Westeros, where Cersei and the White Walkers await them. The dragons do not allow Viserys to ride, but they seem to like him. Brother and sister, Viserys rides behind Dany on Drogon's back, the last dragons the five of them.

"You are not here to be queen of the ashes," Tyrion tells her.

"Nonsense," Viserys scoffs, "You've lived through a starving Kings Landing, Lord Tyrion. It's said they ripped people apart and ate them still living in front of your eyes."

Drogon burns the Red Keep to the ground with its inhabitants inside but saves thousands from starvation and wildfire. The siblings find Cersei dead on the throne, having poisoned herself, and Tyrion weeps over her. Daenerys returns her body to the Rock, for his sake, and names Olenna Tyrell their Hand.

"With the queen's permission I'll go north and take one," Jorah Mormont offers.

"None of our men are going beyond the Wall. This is all ridiculous. You, the "King in the North" are going to personally go to the most dangerous place in the world for the sake of Jaime Lannister and his men?" Viserys touches his sister's shoulder gently. "You can never trust a Lannister," he tells her, Tyrion looking more uncomfortable by the second, "when Tywin Lannister swore to our father that he would fight for him, he sacked the city and murdered Rhaegar's family. Rhaenys, all of three. Aegon, the rightful king. Elia of Dorne. Jaime Lannister himself broke his sworn oath to our father. Do not trust them. Do not."

Jon Snow goes without Jorah Mormont, and of all the men that step beyond the Wall only he makes it back, bloody and battered, barely alive. Those that had gone with him had traded their lives for his, and had died for nothing. Jon has his wight. Jaime Lannister does not stir from the Rock. Perhaps he swears not to attack them, but he did not have the strength to fight in the field anyway.

"You will rule wisely and well, while she-" Varys begins, but Jon cuts him off.

"If you want another ruler, go and speak to Viserys."

And Varys has, but whatever happened to him in Essos has made it so that he will hear not a word of it. What Varys did say he expects made it back to Daenerys. "Viserys is his father's son, just so, and Rhaegar's son comes before his brother."

Varys will burn that night, when Viserys and Jon both swear that he is a traitor. Viserys would burn Jon too, but Dany refuses him. Burning the North's chosen ruler will do little to make them love her, she says. I love him, she does not, but he hears anyway.

Viserys has seen Jon's eyes. He is a Targaryen, that one, not a Stark, not like his beloved Ned. He takes to wearing full armor, even on Dragonstone, and warns Grey Worm as well. They come to an understanding, if an uncertain one, for Grey Worm has lost Missandei and he will not lose her as well.

As the Red Keep is rebuilt, Dany goes to walk among the ruins. Sometimes she goes up to the Iron Throne, although that room has not been started yet, just to be alone and think. She takes no guards but her children. In the throne room, she welcomes Jon to her, angry or not. They argue.

Casterly Rock has burned, and Viserys is looking for his sister. He finds her usual guard in the hall, and asks where she is. "The throne room," they say, "Jon Snow is with her."

He starts to run. Alarmed, the Unsullied follow him. She had commanded to be left alone, but Jon Snow is one of her generals, one of her trusted allies. The queen has been alone with him before, in more intimate places, and

"You are my queen." Jon says, and she lets him embrace her. There is a blade in his belt, one that almost killed his brother. He reaches for it.

Yet Viserys is not fast enough. He is only a man, but Drogon is not. While he is not Viserys' in the way he is Daenerys', he still feels his fear, still knows it's for his mother. With a flap of his great wings he shakes the snow away and soars up to the ruined keep.

Viserys bursts into the throne room steps ahead of the guards to find Daenerys naked and on her knees, weeping over the corpse of her lover, half-burned away along with her clothes. He still holds the blade he would have killed her with.

Removing his cloak, he drapes it over her instead, hiding both her nakedness and the swell of her stomach as she cries. Viserys pulls her away from the body, turning her face into his shoulder. His mother was careful, so careful, to shelter him from the worst of his father's atrocities, but this is not the first time he has smelled burning flesh. It's all he can do to mummer in High Valyrian to his sister, trying to calm her.

"You were right." Are her first words. "I should never have trusted him. You were right."

Above them is Drogon, the son she bore from Khal Drogo's pyre. Because of her they sit in the halls their ancestors built and call themselves king and queen. Three cities yet stand in Essos, their slaves free for the first time in thousands upon thousands of years. All her doing.

Viserys accepted a long time ago that he was never going to take back the Seven Kingdoms. He was never going to go home. Yet here he stands, all because of his little sister. Viserys had wanted his father's throne; Daenerys envisioned a new world. Jon Snow is but dush and ash.

"No," he presses a kiss to her forehead, and tries to wipe away the tears. "You're a conqueror, Dany, you're a queen. He chose the old world, and you will craft a new one."

[grumpy-zane]

((Idk what to title this. DOTD stuff/Royal Blacksmith HC lore.

WARNING: this is long.))

Dareth ran the tablecloth up and down the counter, scrubbing out the spots that had ring stains to the beat of the song cracking from the radio. It was still too early in the evening to open up shop, but he didn't mind the wait. It gave him a lot of time to double check everything and re-count inventory. He flicked off the radio and on the TV, leaning on the counter to catch the news.

Nothing important was happening today, unless you counted traffic jams as a lethal city attack, and it was the perfect weather to hit the beach according to the news. No doubt Gayle was trying to find something to talk about, but, "Not a single story to get a scoop out of today, miss reporter," he spoke to the screen. Eyeing the window, he contemplated going out for an hour to catch some rays. Not that he needed it immediately, but he had notice that his tan was starting to fade as of late.

Knocking against the door pulled him from his thoughts. "We're not open yet, come back in three hours!" Dareth called, hoping his voice carried though the thick wood.

"Not a patron!" A prideful voice muffled back.

"Lou?" He stood up and answered the door. "Lou! Good to see ya, how have you been?"

"Well I've been just wonderful," he smiled and stepped inside, taking a seat at the bar while Dareth returned to his position, "I stopped by to talk to you about Day of the Departed plans."

"You know me, always room in my schedule for that. That's a few months away though, right?"

"Yes, but its always good to plan these things far in advance. Anyway, the other day when I was going through the archives, It hit me that I never let Cole experience how the Royal Blacksmiths formed."

Dareth lowered the TV volume, "Wait, I thought Cole didn't want to be a Blacksmith?"

"No, of course not! But its family history that I think he and his friends should know.. on top of a performance of course! That’s why I've come to you! We need the Jade Palace rented out." Lou beamed.

Bewilderment struck across his face, "Lou. You can't just rent out the Jade Palace- sure the city rebuilt it and turned it into a memorial.. museum.. actually I haven't been inside. But! Isn't that a little 'out there' in terms of.. you know.."

He laughed, "That’s why I came to you! You know how to make the impossible work out! And it's perfect too! 'The Royal Blacksmiths perform at the Jade Palace: a Historical Unraveling', I can see the headline now." He looked up, picturing the scenario in his mind.

Dareth folded his arms and thought about it. No doubt he'd have to talk to a rabbit hole of people just to pull it off, at least Lou came to him about it now rather than one week in advanced. "I'll see what I can do," he sighed.

"Haha, yes! I knew I could count on you!" He jumped up and headed towards the door, "I'll give you more details once I flesh them out. This is going to be so much fun!" The door shut in excitement.

---------

"You said your dad planned something?" Jay popped a few pieces of candy in his mouth, "something about the palace?"

"Yeah," he reached over and dug into the bag, grabbing out a taffy. "He said he had something special for the team- more importantly me, but he extended the invitation. He said something about Blacksmith history, I just hope he doesn’t drone on and on." Cole rolled his eyes.

"It sounds like you didn't have a very good experience with this in the past?"

He shrugged, "My dad was never a 'when I was your age' person, but he was a 'your great great whatever' person when it came to performing. I didn't like listening to it, so I never payed much attention."

The two climbed the front stairway just as people were departing. so much for making the show, but at least they weren’t absurdly late and didn’t leave Lou waiting half an hour. Kai and Nya looked away from the entry way and waved at the two, drawing the attention of Dareth was was hovering around the side walls. He whistled, Lou snapping away from the conversation of the quartet and smiling. “Cole! Jay! there you two are!”

“Hey dad-” the two hugged, “sorry we missed the performance. Crime never rests.”

“Yeah, luckily Pixal and Zane took over for us.” Jay chirped, “So, a story? Will it be in the form of a song?”

He laughed and rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder, leading the two up through the entrance. “No, no, I’m afraid not. The boys want to call it early tonight, so it’s going to just be me.” Lou nodded to the rest of his group, the three calling their goodnights and goodbyes. “So, you said two of you aren’t showing up, what about Lloyd?”

Jay and Cole exchanged glanced, then repeated the motion with Kai and Nya.Usually everyone would be here, but the S.O.G. no doubt made him rethink things in regards to his father. “I’ll keep a look out for him,” Dareth waved a hand and smirked, “I already got the low-down and I’ll get him up to speed. You guys enjoy the tour.”

--

The interior was much like it was before the destruction, though more antique fitted for the occasion, no doubt. Glass cases displayed attire and relics of an older time; worn armor stood tall on wooden racks, faded paintings hung beneath special lights, weapons held vertically reflected the gold trimmings surrounding them, and masks hung from the walls. Lou proudly walked past the displays to a dark lit wall, “As all of you know who the Royal Blacksmiths are, I won’t e going over that. Instead, I want to start from the very beginning.” He flicked on a light, illuminating the wall with a portrait through a lamp. “Before there were Blacksmiths, there were entertainers. This group of four traveled through Ninjago by foot, performing tricks no one had seen before! Their acts drew the attention of the Royal Family, who’s prince was delighted by their performances! So much so, that he invited them to perform at the palace.”

Cole tried not to sigh, feeling deja vu from this spiel. Taking a look around, it seemed like no one else was feeling the same. Whether that was for better or worse...

“Mr. Compère, You’re needed!” Lou jumped with the rest of the group, the masked man wrapped his arm around the Blacksmith, his attire making him look out of place, hailing from a lost time.

“M-Mr. Compère?” He sputtered.

“Yes, the King wants to see what we can do!” He was promptly pulled away, the person stopping to look back at the stunned Ninja. “You best be making your way to the stage if you don’t want to miss the performance.” He held up a finger to the lips of the mask, dispersing away into smoke.

Jay gawked, “Did you just SEE THAT?!”

“Who was that?” Kai asked, Cole pushing everyone aside.

“I dunno, but I don’t like the sound of what he has planned. Come on!”

Grand pillars held up the octagonal roof, the rafters danging dozens of lights of varying color, each held at a height that pointed down to the stage. The squad shoved open the doors, weapons brandished ready to fight when they were once again dumbstruck. On the far side the king sat, his green robes draping over his armored body. The Jade undertones in the trimming angled in a way that drew attention to his pale face, his dark eyes watching intently at the four masked men who stood in a circle with their backs on the inside. Among the four, one rose up an instrument: a lyre, intricately carved in ancient Ninjagian. The notes that escaped it echoed in the large room, the lights flickering as the air reacted to the music. The other three drew comically long blades, lifting them to the air and spinning around in a dance.

“The King and his son watched as their performance spelled out the story of a bard, One of which caught in plans that would prove to be quite fatal,” Lou’s voice spoke from the upper floor. As if on queue, one of the masked figured drove their sword into the other, shocking the royalty as the other two dropped to the floor dramatically. The bard only paused, returning to his playing once again. Another masked person stabbed their sword through, followed by the third, but the playing did not cease. This frightened the assailants, the person turning and gliding towards them, scaring them off stage. “It was such a grand display of endurance, that the King thought it would be foolish to simply send them away without compensation. Thus, he dubbed the ensemble, ‘The Royal Blacksmiths’, entertainers of the Royal Family.”

Cole lead the way around the lower balcony, the lights above blowing out suddenly before flickering back on. The stage had dramatically changed, one of that reflect a circus. The ringleader faced the four who had taken a seat next to the railing. Kai blinked, “Hey is that-”

“Ladies, and Gentlefolk, Tonight’s performance is none other than The Wondrous, Illustrious, Roooyaall Blacksmiths!” He brown cape flew as he lifted an arm to them, the curtains flying open as a large tiger leapt forward. One of the blacksmiths, wearing a black suit and white face paint with red accents, jogged across the ring, leading the large cat around the obstacles and through the tubes. From the other side, another Blacksmith ran out, performing flips through the same obstacle course and landing on a rolling board. A third leapt over the back curtain, landing in the hold of the rolling one who lifted them elegantly. The fourth emerged in a cloud of smoke, holding an arm out to the Ringleader who promptly through his hat and cane.

“Cole, That’s your dad!” Jay giddily squealed, pointing at the center circle.

“What?!”

Lou gently bowed, spinning the cane around and throwing it into the air, catching it and tossing it up again even higher. “No more was the need to act plays and stories, the people wanted to see something extraordinary, and so it was!” Lou shouted, barely turning around in time to see the tiger leap from the back curtains again.

“Dad look out-!” Cole leapt up from his seat, gripping the railing as the tiger fell into the hat and disappeared completely. Lou caught the cane and tossed it up again, winking at his son as he whipped the hat directly at him. It spun back around just out of reach and out of the light. The wheeling blacksmith sped up their circles, tossing the other into the air and catching the cane. The other landed next to Lou, striking a pose as the third slid out from the curtain on the other side. Lou kept his hands raised, marching in place as the cane was tossed up again. He grabbed it just as the last smith found his place behind the three, sparks exploding from the end of the cane like fireworks. The hat finally came back around which he promptly caught, lowering it to the ground and letting a small house cat step out of it.

“But it was so, that the life of excitement wasn’t something everyone could handle. Generations of building up elaborate stunts were daunting to the eyes of a junior, and so he chose a different approach,” Lou spoke as the quartet began humming various pitches. “He thought no one should bear to hear such noises that left ears ringing, Instead he came up with a new plan! One that involved singing!” He held the last word on a high note.

The tiger let out a low grumble, its purring distracting everyone to look at the side wall. “Oh nuts,” Dareth, the ringleader, smiled sheepishly, gently scratching the large cat under the chin.

Lou cleared his throat, “And so here we are now, carrying out the tradition to entertain no matter the form, display, or song. I hope you all enjoyed the performances, you especially, Cole.” He smiled up at his son.

Jay barged into the conversation, “That. Was. Awesome!”

“How did you pull it all off??” Nya asked, beaming.

“I would have never guessed that it was that deep,” Kai mirrored their excitement, “who knew?”

Cole leapt down from the balcony and approached his father, “You did all of this, just for me?”

“Of course, Cole, It’s family history!.. and I wanted to let you know that, not everyone in our historical line wanted to do what their fore-fathers did. I’m proud of you, that you’re a ninja, It gives me a lot to write and sing about!” He gripped Cole’s shoulder and laughed, pulling him into a half hug.

The other ninja had leapt down, asking the others as the group of performers congregated in the pit. It was a shame that Zane, Pixal, and Lloyd missed it, but Cole was sure that Kai had recorded at least part of it on his phone for his social media followers. The earth ninja eyed around at the general happiness, content with it, and leaned against his dad. “Happy Day of the Departed, dad.”

He squeezed him back, chuckling, “Happy Day of the departed.”