#tutelage-ish

[floretspell]

cedural-ish/tutelary-ish/wechselnd-ish relationship - a flag for relationships that are kinda cedural, tutelary, and wechselnd; also known as guardianship-ish, tutelage-ish, and wardship-ish.

made by us. tagging @radiomogai and @daybreakflags.

[thatboreddrake]

Okay, bare with me on this one, because I am operating on a grand total of like, two lines of dialogue and a dream: a dream of finally getting a solid-ish number on the Elden Ring Timeline!

So, the first line of dialogue, which Ranni delivers during the cutscene for the Age of Stars ending:

Now cometh the age of the stars. A thousand year voyage under the wisdom of the Moon (emphasis added)

Fine, vague, poetic.

The second line, delivered by Miquella during the fight with Promised Consort Radahn if the player is hit by the grab attack:

"I promise you, a thousand-year voyage guided by compassion."

Now, once is vague, but twice just might mean something. Could it be metaphorical for "this is gonna be a long time"? PROBABLY BUT WHO CARES!

This brings me to my first main point: we have an official time-stamp on how often ages and gods cycle in the Lands Between, presumably. This means that this is a semi-regular phenomenon which could be looked for upon its arrival. Or perhaps, this time of transition is marked by visitors:

It is said that when Oracle Envoys appear playing their pipes, they do so to herald the arrival of a new god, or age.

Anyway, this allows me to slap together a somewhat coherent timeline of events for Elden Ring (effing finally):

The age we will start with is the Age of Dragons, led by Placidusax as Elden Lord (Remembrance of the Dragonlord) with Uhl, the Fire Giant, as the vessel of the Fell God and centered on the power of the Crucible (blatant speculation but its headcanon at this point). In the last few hundred years of the Age of the Crucible, the Hornsent begin to focus their efforts on producing a viable Empyrean to ascend to godhood for the next age. Side note, but this would also be when the denizens of the Eternal Cities were working on their project with the Lord of Night.

Anyway, through one way or another, Marika is chosen by the Fingers to serve as the Greater Will's vessel in the Lands Between after her village is butchered by the Potentates. This is also approximately when a proto-Radagon enters the scene through Empyrean mitosis (Marika severed her desire for order after the death of her family as per the Minor Erdtree incantation). For a time, Marika plays along with the Hornsent, if only to establish her base of power.

Her first stop is at the Eternal Cities, where she attempts to convince the Nox to join with her in the upcoming war against the Fire Giants. The Nox reject her upcoming divinity in favor of their Lord of Night, killing proto-Radagon with the Fingerslayer Blade as a symbol of their rejection. The Greater Will does not stand for this insolence, and sends the Malformed Star Astel to devour their sky and cast them beneath the earth.

Marika then allies with the berserker warlord Hoarah Loux and begins her assault on the Fire Giants of the Mountaintops. After all, their flame would be the one thing that could threaten the Erdtree during her reign. She manages to slay Uhl in battle, and shunts proto-Radagon's soul into his body, thus birthing Radagon as a proper Lord. However, at this point, Marika is diverted from her mission by the First War of the Dragons.

Emboldened by the defeat of Placidusax's god, Bayle the Dread leads his brood of drakes in a direct assault on Farum Azula. To counteract this threat, Placidusax sends the Ancient Dragon Florissax to instruct their erstwhile human allies in the practice of Dragon Communion. Among these, the greatest knight and leader of their order was Theodorix, a troll freed from the Fire Giants during Marika's initial assault. It is during this war that Marika and Radagon bear the kindling twins, Messmer and Melina.

Where Messmer fights on the front lines alongside Radagon and Godfrey, Melina instead takes up tutelage under Maliketh, Marika's Black Blade. After the war is over, and Placidusax has had three of his heads removed, he sees that the age of the dragons has come to a close and moves Farum Azula outside of time to await the return of his god.

Keeping their momentum, Marika and her forces carry on to complete their destruction of the Fire Giants, realize that the flame cannot be put out, and leave a nameless giant in charge of tending the forge. At this point, the time of ascension arrives, and Marika ascends to godhood using Radagon as her Lord catalyst. However, afraid of exposing Radagon's true nature to their followers, Marika instead takes Godfrey as the First Elden Lord, ushering in the Age of Plenty (Blessed Dew Talisman).

With her seat of power established, Marika dispatches her champions to complete their conquest of the Lands Between. Godfrey goes south to Limgrave to do battle with the Storm Lord and the inhabitants of the Weeping Peninsula. Radagon also goes south, but stops in the swamps of Liurnia to challenge the kingdom of sorcerers, who have been united under the rule of one calling herself the Full Moon Empyrean. Messmer, meanwhile, travels back to Belurat to exact vengeance against the Hornsent for their treatment of the shamans. It was this last expedition that was closest to Queen Marika's heart, and thus were they accorded the greatest share of golden grace of any of the Erdtree's armies.

In the ensuing 700 years or so, things proceed as normal. Messmer slaughters the Divine Beasts and burns the country to ashes. Godfrey's conquest of Limgrave nears its conclusion and he sets his eyes towards the Caelid Wilds. Radagon has fought two wars in Liurnia, finally forging an alliance with the House of Caria through his marriage to Rennala. Beneath all this, an old god conspires to put its own Empyrean on the throne.

Per Prince of Death canon (it is canon to me!), Melina is selected as an Empyrean vessel by the Deathbird who pushes her towards rebellion by exposing the injustices perpetrated under Marika's rule. Melina's breaking point is when Marika abandons her own children, the twin Omens Mohg and Morgott, for the sake of keeping up appearances (or so it seems). Taking the moniker of the Gloam-Eyed Queen, Melina marches to Leyndell to cast Marika down from her throne and slay the Elden Beast with black fire.

This rebellion is stopped by Maliketh's timely intervention. He bests his former pupil in combat and, under Marika's orders, seals the Destined Death which gives her flame its deadly bite. It is at this time that the Land of Shadow becomes Shadowed, as Marika fears how Messmer may respond when he discovers that his sister has "died" in a rebellion against their mother. However, Marika's heart is not of stone. She sees anew that which had driven her daughter to such desperate measures, and vows to reexamine the fundamental tenets of the Golden Order.

Remembering what happened to the last civilization to deny the Greater Will, however, Marika banishes Godfrey and his Tarnished warriors from the Lands Between. Should another star come to punish the land, she would not have her beloved caught in the blast zone. Thus ends the Age of Plenty; Marika plucks the very concept of true death from the Elden Ring and the blessings of the Erdtree slowly begin to dry up.

Here, the Ancient Dragon Gransseax sees an opportunity to restore the Ancient Dragons to primacy in the Lands Between and assaults the very walls of Leyndell itself. However, he did not account for the tenacity of humankind, nor the power of Godfrey's son, Godwyn. Godwyn leads Marika's order to victory in this Second War of the Dragons, forging an alliance with the Ancient Dragon Fortissax.

Seeking to keep Marika loyal, the Greater Will recalls Radagon to serve as Elden Lord in Leyndell, threatening his family with true death at the hand of the Black Blade should he refuse. Together, Marika and Radagon usher a new thousand years of history, an Age of Order.

Towards the final quarter of this new age (fully guestimating here), Marika sees that she is running out of time to find a solution to the cycling of ages and gods. Conspiring with her step-daughter Ranni, she plots to use a fragment of Destined Death to sever both herself and Radagon from the Greater Will's control, if only to free them both from the curse of immortality. However, plagued by internal conflict and mistrust, Ranni takes this opportunity to free herself from the machinations of Manus Celes, a Two Fingers serving its own god. Marika is distraught as, rather than severing her own fate, she is instead left to deal with the aftermath of the death of her beloved son, Godwyn.

In a final act of desperation, seeking to end the cycle once and for all, Marika takes up her hammer and shatters the Elden Ring, that which represents order itself. Aghast at her actions, Radagon joins her inside the Erdtree, sealing the entrance using an aberrant sorcery to create a barrier of impenetrable thorns. He sought to repair the damage done to the Elden Ring, but erecting the barrier bled him nearly dry. Seeking to protect its last hope of maintaining control, the Elden Beast fuses Marika and Radagon into one and stuffs the shattered fragments of the Elden Ring into the gaping wound in their side. There, the fused, fractured deity would hang for hundreds of years, until the time for ascension came again, and the envoys arrived once more to herald the arrival of a new lord.

[izzabela]

Seeking Peace - Tomas (+ slight Bi Han) x fem!reader

in which fate turns out a bit differently, and Bi Han seeks peace with you and his family

a/n: YOUR HONOR, TOMAS DESERVES THE WORLD, SO LET MY IMAGINATION ALLOW THEM PEACE PLEASE. I LOVE HIM VERY MUCH, YOUR HONOR, AND HE IS VERY GORGEOUS TO ME

ship[s]: tomas x reader, bi han x reader (past)

warnings: mayhaps a bit of angst, no "y/n" bullsh!t

This will be a long-ish one, so be prepared

You happily walk around the compound, humming a light tune as you stroll through the large home. The wind brushes against the trees softly, the leaves rustling quietly. You can hear the grunts and and shouts of Shirai Ryu initiates in the distance, training hard under the tutelage of either Harumi, Kuai Liang, or Tomas.

Ever since the issue of Shang Tsung, Titan and current timeline, the soul stealers, Armageddon, and the betrayal of Bi Han, things have changed greatly. Splitting from centuries of history, of family, was hard for Tomas and especially Kuai Liang. While Kuai Liang and Bi Han were related, Tomas wasn't, yet he still missed his eldest brother, yearning for his redemption.

However, family still prevailed with the creation of the Shirai Ryu, named after Kuai Liang's wife, Harumi Shirai. She proved a valuable teacher, a wonderful wife, and great friend to you and Tomas. Yet, it could not replace the missing piece of your former beloved.

In the past, when the mission to try and take Shang Tsung into questioning took place, you waited patiently at the Wu Shi academy with Geras, Liu Kang, and the rest the champions of Earthrealm. While they did not know of you, you knew of them due to Bi Han's story of Liu Kang's test. With worry, you paced around the room and your pace quickens, the only calm being Geras's warm hand on your shoulder.

Suddenly, the sound of the portal at the entrance of the academy captured your attention, and all of you rushed to meet the three assassins, but your eyes only saw two.

"Kuai Liang, what is the meaning of this?!" You screeched, your daggers drawn at him, "Why are you two only here? Where is Bi Han?!"

You remember the memory well. Tomas and Kuai Liang took their masks off, and you saw Kuai Liang's scar over his left eye. Tomas's eyes were filled with sadness, and he walks to you weakly before engulfing you in a warm, solemn bear-hug. That was all you needed before you dropped your weapons, accepted his hug, and sobbed into his arms.

You shake your head at the memory, a bit confused over the sudden resurfacing of a memory you thought you had buried and gotten over. You sigh and continue walking, only to be surprised with Tomas's magic. He manifested right in front of you, a bright smile on his face. You're shocked, but you welcome it with an equal action, your eyes crinkle with delight.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, darling husband?" You ask playfully, poking his chest.

He chuckles lightly, "My duties of teaching have been overtaken by sister-in-law, so I decided to find my own darling."

You blush at his flattery. After the events of the old fortress, the betrayal of your ex, Tomas's presence was a great help to you. He kept his distance while you grieved the loss of your former husband, but as you began to heal, his intentions for your heart came bursting forth like fireworks. Wary, you accepted them slowly, and him respecting your boundaries. Overtime, though, your heart warmed again and you began to love him wholeheartedly.

You wrap your arm around his, and walk with him around the compound. You talk about the mundane topics of your new lives: the mention of the initiate Hanzo Hasashi, plans against the Lin Kuei's plots, and what you, Tomas, and the other couple will enjoy for dinner.

Unfortunately, your conversation was cut short as a scout ran up to you and Tomas. He comes with urgency, bowing before he speaks.

"Do not be alarmed, Tomas, sir, but we've received an unprecedented report that...."

You look at him with a tilted head, "Well? What did you have to tell us?"

The ninja looks sheepishly to the side, "Well... your brother, Bi Han, is presently at the front of the compound. No one is by his side, and our scouts surveyed the area that no other Lin Kuei have been spotted within five kilometers of the compound."

You both look at each other and immediately rush to the front, not forgetting your salutations to the ninja. You can feel Tomas's gaze at you, worried and a bit jealous. You don't bother to look at him, though, as emotions you had buried, forgotten, and locked away now bubbled and brewed.

=================

You were spared the sight of Bi Han's capture, the ninjas of the Shirai Ryu bringing him into the courtyard. At Kuai Liang's order, all initiates and staff left the area, retreating to their rooms and private quarters, leaving Bi Han at the mercy of his younger brother, Harumi, Tomas, and you.

Bi Han kneels at the sight of all four of you, his hands bound behind him, his head down, and mask gone. Your heart breaks at the sight, but he had brought this upon himself when he made his choice all those years ago. You feel Tomas's warm, calloused hands intertwine with yours as you face your former lover.

You hiss at him, drawing your daggers towards him "What brings you here, Bi Han? And unarmed? Do you have a death wish?!"

You notice how his eyes are tired, bags dragging them down. There are signs of his stress and aging, the lines over his forehead and mouth area. He looks up at you, and you can see how his eyes change every so slightly, his guard down for once.

"Cyrax and Sektor had betrayed me- I killed them and the Lin Kuei's forces have dwindled to less than half."

You're all shocked, turning to each other to try and understand what you all will do next. You turn back to Bi Han, his eyes remaining on yours.

Kuai Liang speaks this time, "Why tell us then? You made your choice many years ago... why seek us out for such a confession?"

"I come to tell you this because... of reflection," he admitted, his gaze turning away and facing his brothers.

You scoff, frustration transforming into pure anger as you lunged towards him, your daggers at each side of his neck. The cold metal presses into Bi Han's neck lightly, nicks of blood slowly spilling out.

"Have you gone mad?! Reflection?! After what you had done?! To your late father, your brothers... to me! I should have your blood spilled with this nonsense!"

Tears form in your eyes, and through your blurry vision, you see Bi Han's face morph into the rare emotion of sadness and regret.

"What you had done to me," you begin, voice shaky, "What you had done to all of us! You betrayed your family, broke my heart... and you think 'reflection' will help you seek peace?!"

Tomas runs up to you and quickly takes your arms to hold you back, picking you up and taking you away from Bi Han. You're taken aback by Tomas's actions, kicking and writhing in his strong grip, trying to get your vengeance.

"Darling please! We must hear brother out! Look at him- he comes to us without ill-intent! You heard the ninja before, a five kilometer radius and no sign of Lin Kuei."

Kuai Liang sits him up, which Bi Han takes this time to continue, "I had long wished for our clan to do more: more power, ambition, leadership. Our manpower could be used more than just defense, but in offense, in bringing Earthrealm to heights it had not seen in ages, eons even."

He turns to Kuai Liang, "Brother, I should have heeded your words, listened to your warnings. After Cyrax and Sektor stabbed my back, I thought about the both of you. A fool I have become, only realizing the gravity of my actions when I was in your place."

With you still in Tomas's grasp, the men look amongst themselves and communicate through silence and hopeful understanding. You couldn't help but look at Bi Han, who looks helpless as he pleads with his kin.

He took this opportunity to speak again, "I took a gamble coming here, plotting my own path to meet you. Now that I have, I offer my own olive branch- a beginning to peace amongst one another, amongst our clans."

You became still in Tomas's arms, listening to the shocking revelation of a real, heartfelt apology. Was this the same man that scarred Kuai Liang, that insulted Tomas's birthright, that broke your heart those years ago?

You yield to Tomas, tapping his arm to let you go. He does so, warily, and watches as you come around Bi Han's back, past Kuai Liang, and untie his arms. You do not help him up, though, and watch him as he comforts the ache in his wrists. He turns to you and offers a slight nod, his eyes glimmering with hope and the slightest hint of change.

In front of Bi Han, you watch as Tomas and Kuai Liang approach their traitor brother carefully. Tomas is the first to bear his true feelings, throwing his mask away to the pebbled ground and tackling his brother into his famous bear hug. You don't hear a sound come from him, but you see his shoulders racking violently as he digs his head into Bi Han's shoulder. Awkwardly, he holds onto Tomas and pats his back softly.

Kuai Liang sighs, joining his brothers in the hug. The warmth his pyro magic provides creates a wave of comfort of all three of them, a peaceful mood amongst them. You visibly see Bi Han relax, feeling peace for the first time in years.

===============

Bi Han slept separate from everyone, having slumbered away in the prison that stood in the depths of the forest near the compound.

You were the first to wake, sneaking out of yours and Tomas's shared room to see Bi Han in the holding cell. Arriving, you were taken to him and saw him meditating.

He never did that during your marriage. It seems he finally listened to your advice after all these years.

You sat in a chair in front of him, and his eyes open from his mediating trance. He takes in the sight of you fully, not knowing if this will be the first or last time he'll see you. Your beautiful hair fell over your face, framing it like a Renaissance piece. Your figure, despite covered in your kimono, looked healthy and full, proof that your marriage to Tomas was treating you better than Bi Han's ever did.

And, oh, your eyes. The color that seemed so dull during your time with him looks so much more colorful now. They seem to burst forth with a vibrancy that lacked with him. Tomas truly brought you back from the pits of the Netherealm.

"You look well," Bi Han mentioned softly, "The years apart from one another truly show."

You scoff, "It seems time did not treat as well."

He shrugs, a soft laugh leaving his lips, "As they say, it is not too late to learn."

He looks down just a bit to see a glimmer of metal on your ring finger, the symbol of unity once again on yourself. He subconsciously touches his ring finger, fiddling with the empty space that should have housed his promise to you.

"Is Tomas treating you well?" He asks, pointing to the ring on your finger.

You smile softly, also playing with your finger, "More than you can imagine. I never thought I could achieve such bliss once again."

He nods, "I am glad."

Silence engulfs you two once more, and Bi Han speaks (which is starting to freak you out).

"I know you may not forgive me, nor take me back, but believe me when I say I want peace. I want nothing more than to see us not at each other's necks, plotting death or downfall of one another."

You sharply inhale, closing your eyes to meditate on his words. While they pull your strings just a bit, you think about them, lingering on every word. You sensed no malice, a drop of anger, nor bloodlust from him, which puts you at ease.

"Bi Han," you began, "You must know I am a married woman once again."

He nods.

"While I will not take you back, nor forget the pain you've caused me and your brothers.... I will accept your offering of peace."

He lets a breath out, glad your choice was more positive than negative.

"It will take a long time for me to trust you again, an even longer time to forgive you, I believe you will achieve the absolution you desire..."

"Our paths may be separate," you continue, "but it does not mean we cannot traverse it together."

==================

The entirety of the Shirai Ryu is behind you, Tomas, Kuai Liang and Harumi as you see Bi Han out of the compound the day after your prison visit. It's bright and early, the sun peaking over the hills that shroud the compound. He stands with Liu Kang, Earthrealm's protector, who was brought to Japan after Kuai Liang sent an alert to him.

Under Liu Kang's guidance and patience, he has agreed to help rebuild the honor and reputation of the Lin Kuei. Under the watchful eye of him, Geras, and Madame Bo, Bi Han will be relieved of his duties and retrain as an initiate, the first step of his redemption as a man, Lin Kuei, and grandmaster.

He utters not a word as he leaves the compound, only turning back to you and his family one last time before leaving. You can hear the gravel under his feet shift and move, his steps moving farther and farther away.

Tomas yells, "Brother~! I hope to see you again~!"

You turn to him and see him smile, and if you squint, you can see a ghost of a smile on Bi Han's face as he waves to his youngest brother.

"You look like a little kid waving to him," you point out playfully.

He turns beet red, his hand scratching the back of his neck, "Do I look that childish?"

You wrap your arm around his beefy one, leaning onto him. For some reason, you felt calm looking at the distant figure of Bi Han, no longer feeling anguish or pain at his sight. You sigh and lean into Tomas's arm.

"Are you alright, my darling?" he asks, "Do you need anything?"

You shake your head, "No, I am quite alright. In fact, I feel quite at peace right now."

He nods.

"Do you believe that Bi Han will achieve what he plans to do?" You ask gently, looking into the ashen man's eyes, "Do you believe in him?"

He nods confidently, "Brother is a stubborn man, but he is resilient. He will stop at nothing to achieve his goals."

Tomas's words confirm the feelings you harbored for Bi Han. While you two were no longer together, you hoped with great heart that he will honor his words. You smile happily, locking hands with Tomas and bringing it up to your mouth to kiss it briefly.

You meant every word you said to him that morning of the prison visit. While traveling this rocky road of change and forgiveness will be difficult, seeking this peace would be one hundred percent worth the toil.

==================

guys I have never been so happy writing anything ever. MK1 and the entire cast is just so much fun to write for.

if yall can't tell, i love tomas vrbada with all my heart- he's just a pookie, cutie patootie. don't worry though, i'll write for more characters besides tomas and the lin kuei brothers

if you want to request something, please do! i'd love to test the limits of my writing and creativity

until next fic (which is probably really soon)

[sniffanimal]

Shallan and her stand 『PATTERN』 for my JJBA!SA au ;3; Tag for this on my blog here | tip jar/requests here Design notes below!

First, Pattern, a canon design so baller we spun it off Unchanged! Forreal though, his suit is designed after a wool runway suit I saw, I just made it look folded from paper instead. Also the model was in tights but I spared you from looking at Pattern's salad fingers-ass feet and legs. I don't really think the spinning pattern cryptic head is 100% fitting in JJBA's character design styles, but I think there's precedent for shapeshifting so why not!

Shallan, being Lighteyed, gets a far more modern/pop-y/cute design than Kaladin did (his being more utilitarian). I was thinking about how Jolyne, Foo Fighters, and some of the other jojo women look, notably things like exposed midriff, painted lips, and overalls. I know Early Canon shallan is a lot more modest and reserved, So maybe in TWOK-era she has her straps up and her sleeves pulled down over her fingertips on her safehand ok, but maybe during WOR and onwards she slips a bit lol. She's got big clunky boots on under the pant legs but the pant legs are big floor dragging bell bottoms. I LOVE the Y2K-ish lightweaver symbol I put on her shirt (it looks like a heart or a butterfly so. added heart and butterfly), and echoed it on the pants. The model I was looking at just had buttons on the shirt, but I switched it to frog clasps to look a little more Vorin fashion-y. For her body itself, I always draw shallan with twin buns and still a lot of hair left to go, thinking kinda along the lines of Disney's Merida or something with copious amounts of hair, though less curly. I also decided to give it some color depth to it and go more auburn to ginger versus scarlet or full ginger. Lastly I based her general appearance off the Korean model Jung Ho Yeon, who has also modeled with red hair sometimes! Very Shallan to me!

I'm thinking the setting is going to fall on a Roshar that's in a vaguely turn of the millennium (on earth) situation. Most of the tech is still fabrial based, but it's all kinda like what you'd see in the late 90s or something. Maybe closer to the 70s/80s actually since I don't think they quite have computers as commonplace. Navani gets one. Shallan does have a Mobile Spanreed, which is kind of like an ipad but with a magnadoodle-type board (or boogie board) for a screen and a ring with up to 10 paired other Mobile Spanreeds that you can communicate with. It's very modern and very convenient. No need for paper! And you can have them paired with many other boards! Shallan likes to draw on hers when she's not actively communicating with people, of course.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Shallan is struck by part of the Arrow by Kabsal, who was planning on recruiting her into his organization before he died. He tells them as much on his deathbed. She manifests Pattern as part of that, and identifying her as a Stand User, Jasnah and Ivory take her under their tutelage, not knowing that Shallan was actually able to use Pattern since she was a child.

[renmedys]

BACKS TURNED, FACES FORWARD

haruno sakura is tired of always being left in the dust. (or: sakura throughout the years, chasing after people who might be too far gone.)

pairing: haruno sakura/uchiha sasuke (slight) content: character study-ish, slight romance words: 3.5k notes: my attempt at a character study (not really). its just that 685 forever has a chokehold on me & i love sasusaku & kishimoto rlly did his main heroine dirty. originally i wanted it to be more of a piece about team 7 collectively, but winded up being a little more sasusaku centric xdd

     HARUNO Sakura has spent her entire life gazing upon two backs. And she’s tired of it, of course she is. Sasuke was never once in reach, but after he set out on his quest for power and vengeance, even the slightest trace of him was hard to come by. That teenage back and the red and white fan that sits proudly upon it—Sakura wishes she had some way she could reach him from across the continent and alleviate the weights which burden him so. But she could not stop him. Not with her words or actions, and not with her love. 

And what use was love if it couldn’t save anyone, especially the very person who brings it to life within you? 

She wanted to curse her weakness, and to curse Sasuke most of all for all the tears she shed and the nights she lay awake. Yet still she cannot. Love would not let her, and that was the cruelest thing of all. She would love him to her grave, and whether that is testament that her love is true or that she is just plain old stubborn, she’s not sure. What she’s sure of is that she’s tired of watching Naruto run off ahead of her in Sasuke’s pursuit.

Sakura has been watching this whole time. She watched the curse mark embed itself into Sasuke’s flesh, take root like an invasive plant. Orochimaru sank his fangs into him, and though she’s sure Sasuke’s not foolish enough to hand over his body so willingly, even she could tell that the venom was corroding him from the inside out. His bloodline—Sakura does not pretend to know its blood-steeped history, and she’s long since stopped pretending to understand the pain and hatred that comes with it. But she does know the pain that it has brought her, and the pain it has brought Naruto. 

She can see the way Naruto’s eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit at Sasuke’s mention, the way his gaze softens at the murmur of his name to the way it hardens when people speak ill of him. She notices the skyward glances, the clenching fists. His steadfast promise, his unwavering shinobi way, she can see its resolve strengthen for the sake of Sasuke. Like her, Naruto loves Sasuke, and Sakura can see this too. It is ironic, then, that it is Sasuke who possesses superior sight in the Sharingan who cannot see the same.

Nonetheless, Naruto has been chasing Sasuke all this time. And what has Sakura been doing? Weeping like a damned, helpless damsel, waiting for someone else to do all the work to bring back her Prince Charming? She has watched the Uchiha crest grow smaller and smaller upon the horizon of her heart, so faint and out of reach that despite thinking of him every day, she feels he is going to dissipate. Naruto, too—his back has grown broader in the years he has been away from the village, but smaller as well the further she lags behind. 

The same scrawny brat has grown into someone reliable, and Sasuke surely has advanced as well. Sakura cannot sit idly by any longer. Not that she has, by any means—under the tutelage of Lady Tsunade she has grown into a medical ninja of unmatched potential and honed her physical prowess to the highest degree she can. But it is still not enough. So long as she cannot reach Sasuke’s heart, she is afraid it will never be enough.

“Sakura.”

Naruto’s voice shakes her out of a trance. They are sitting side by side on the bench by the village gate, the same scene that marks the biggest failure of Sakura’s life. The sakura trees are blooming, but Sakura cannot say the same for herself. Each passing day she is continuously wilting. There is no cycle for her, only an everlasting process of fading until one day she will have fallen completely from the branch. 

“Sorry,” she says. “I was lost in thought.”

“About Sasuke,” he asks, though he says it like he already knows.

Sakura nods, twiddling her thumbs. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

Naruto typically takes it upon himself to brighten a dismal atmosphere, but today Sakura is sullen enough that she does not want to be cheered up. No, she wants to linger in this sadness a little longer, let the melancholy soak the way one does in a freshly drawn bath. It is better to face the pain than to continue shutting it down. To bleed is to be alive, so to hurt is to love. 

“You know him,” Naruto says, sinking against the backing of the bench. “Probably moping about revenge and all that. He won’t come to his senses unless we sock it to him, Sakura.”

“I know that, idiot.”

Naruto gives her a sideways glance and smiles. Pats her on the back a couple times, then stands in preparation to leave. Naruto is more sensitive than most, in that regard.

“I miss him,” Sakura says, before Naruto has a chance to turn his back to her again. “I wish he would come back. If we could just talk to him…”

“Guys like him,” Naruto says, “only talk through their fists.”

“I can’t beat him,” Sakura admits sorrowfully. She buries her face in her hands. “I’m not strong enough to get through to him.”

“Right now, neither am I.”

Naruto’s confession brings Sakura’s face out of her hands. She turns to Naruto, who is smiling against the blue sky and blossoming petals. 

“I lost to him at the Final Valley,” he continues. “I’m sure Sasuke’s gotten super strong since then, too. So I’d probably lose to him now anyway.”

“Then—”

“That’s why we both gotta get stronger.” Naruto turns, looking over his shoulder. “That way, no matter how strong Sasuke is when we see him again, it won’t matter. Because it’ll be two against one!”

Yes, Sakura thinks, her eyes closing as her lips pull upward into a smile. Tears are pooling in her waterline. They will get Sasuke back. And when they do, they’ll be three again. Naruto’s back is growing ever smaller as he walks toward the village center, but for once, she doesn’t mind it. 

     AMONGST the broken rubble of Orochimaru’s hideout, Sakura is perusing the halls like a child lost in a maze. She’s not looking for anything in particular. No, that’s not true. She’s looking for a reason. Something, anything that might explain how Sasuke had become the stranger that stood before Naruto and Sakura, how the clan crest etched on his back had fanned the flames from a kindling warmth to raging wildfire. There must be something. 

Naruto is outside, still standing in the crater left behind by Sasuke. Locked in place, his head is tilted upward, and the sky is clear despite the way their hearts are overcast. Yamato and Sai are by him, having left Sakura to wander on her own, but she can sense the little inkborn mouse that Sai sends to tail her, to make sure she doesn’t go off too far or get herself into danger. Sakura has always been the most observant of the three—so it’s an easy task to hear the tiny footsteps that tap against the stone floors a few paces behind. 

Sakura pushes it out of her mind. Let them follow her all they like, it doesn’t matter. What matters right now is finding something that will help. She checks every path and every turn until she turns the last one and finds a dead end. She places a hesitant hand against the stone bricks. She’s ready to accept defeat and reconvene with the makeshift Team Seven. She’s ready to go home, she thinks. She wonders if Sasuke ever misses Konoha. If he ever misses home. (Was Konoha ever home to him?) Then she feels her hand sink into the wall. Her head whips around as she sees one of the bricks push inward. She pushes harder, until the grinding of stone relinquishes into a click. The wall crumbles. It seems that the explosion from earlier broke the mechanism.

Regardless, Sakura ducks her head to squeeze through the hole that has appeared, and on the other side she is rendered speechless. The room sprawls out before her, empty and bare but familiar. To her right, aligned against the corner, there is a desk and a chair pulled out in front of it. Someone was here, not too long ago. She walks over. Somehow, she can tell—if there is anything of value in this room, it will be in this desk. She reaches a tentative hand toward the drawer, careful not to break it. It’s unlocked, and it slides out smoothly. There’s a blank white sheet of paper. It’s been ripped apart and put back together. The paper is fraying at the edges, and when she flips it over she begins to cry. 

The smiling faces of their younger selves—Kakashi, Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura—they are gazing back at her, though Sasuke and Naruto are, of course, glaring at each other more than they are posing for a picture. There’s no doubt about it. This belongs to Sasuke, and it proves nothing if not that Sasuke thinks of Konoha, of them. Enough that the attempt to sever these ties is remedied by tape and glue, shoddy though the job is. Sasuke is not yet out of reach, and for now, that is enough.

     WHEN Sakura tells Naruto she loves him, she already knows that Naruto won't be fooled. He’s not that same naive kid anymore. But she says it anyway, because it’s worth a try if it means obtaining closure. She disregards the shocked faces of all those around her, ignoring the way their eyes are baring into her back. She meets Naruto’s gaze, and she meets it with headstrong determination, a conduct becoming of the kunoichi she knows she can be. She will kill Sasuke, and she will kill her love when she does. Then it will all be over. 

She tells Naruto she loves him. That she’s done chasing after the once noble Sasuke who has fallen to criminal and fugitive status. She says to him that Sasuke keeps getting farther and farther away, that in her mind’s eye she can hardly see the Uchiha crest on his back anymore. That it is Naruto, who remains steadfast by her side and staying true to his word, whom she loves now. A woman’s heart is as changeable as the autumn sky, she laughs, and she hugs him.

Naruto does not move, and instead he shoves her back by the shoulders. He tells her, “I hate people who lie to themselves.”

They argue. Naruto says it's not just about the promise anymore. He wants to help Sasuke, and Sakura can see through the windows to his soul that he knows more than he is letting on. Inside, Sakura wants to scream. Why is she always the last one to know things? Why is she always outside of the loop? What does Naruto know that he cannot tell her, that she does not deserve to know? How can she ever reach Sasuke when everything is always one step ahead of her, whether enemy or comrade or information or life? 

“Fine!” she tells him. “I’m going home.”

She beckons Kiba and Lee and Sai, and they follow. She bites her lip to stop it from trembling. She cannot show weakness here. Sakura must not falter.

Her plan is simple, and executed despite a few bumps on the way. Kiba, Sai, and Lee are put to sleep, Naruto caught in it too. 

At the bridge, she sees him, cloaked and standing over a woman’s body. Sakura doesn’t have time to worry about who she is. 

“Sasuke!” she yells. “I’ve come to join you! I’ve gone rogue from Konoha.”

Sasuke meets her eyes with skepticism, eyes blood red and whirling with the Sharingan. He tells her that if she’s serious, she’ll kill the woman he’s standing over. Sakura can tell she’s wounded, though not fatally. She could live, if Sakura treated her. But Sakura says that she’ll do whatever Sasuke wants, and even when she flinches at Sasuke’s desire to destroy Konoha, she forges onward. When she walks by Sasuke, a poisoned kunai is ready to strike. With it in her trembling grasp, she thinks to herself, “Right now, if I stab Sasuke, it’ll all be over.”

That moment of hesitation, the multitude of thoughts that flash through her head in that single millisecond are enough to spell her doom. A chidori is crackling with static behind her, and if it weren’t for Kakashi intercepting and redirecting the blow, Sakura was as good as dead. Of course she knows why she faltered, even if she resolved time and time again to bring this to a close. She doesn’t want it all to be over. She wants Sasuke to come home, to be himself again, to smile with her and Naruto and Kakashi and to be Team Seven. 

Kakashi orders Sakura to take the woman and leave. Tells her that this is not a burden she needs to bear alone. That it is his fault, his failure as their teacher and mentor, that led to this rift between them. Sakura is tired of being coddled. Tired of things being out of her hands and sick of being reminded time and time again that she can do nothing but rely on others. She takes the red-haired woman who Sasuke has now abandoned away from the battle, treating her as the tears flow uncontrollably. She’s careful to make sure none of them drip onto open wounds, because she can handle this, at the very least. 

“Sasuke…” coughs the woman, her eyes on the verge of unconsciousness, “you don’t know Sasuke anymore.”

Everything after that is a blur. She leaps into action, ricocheting herself off the arch of the bridge in a sudden movement, kunai ready to pierce the very back she has spent her adolescent years chasing after. But she freezes, and she falters once more. She cannot do it, and such is the curse of love. 

Sasuke whirls around and brings a hand to her throat. This time, Sakura is okay with it. Better that she die by his hand than somewhere on the battlefield, unfulfilled. She closes her eyes, waiting for the release of death. This love was going to die eventually.

That much is evident when it is Naruto, always only ever Naruto, who can reach Sasuke with his words. 

    IT is in the midst of battle when Sakura sees him again. Kneading chakra and channeling into her medical ninjutsu as she treats Naruto, Sasuke leaps down to land in front of them. He says her name, for the first time in what feels like forever, and the sound of his voice washes over her like a springtime breeze. This is the Sasuke she knows. Warm and strong and genuine. Sure, his announcement of his interest in the position of Hokage shocks her (as it does everyone else), but she can look past it. 

At his arrival, Naruto has seemingly recharged and been given a burst of new energy. Looking over his shoulder, he thanks her for the healing, tells her to take a break. 

“Let’s go, Sasuke,” Naruto says, and Sakura is sure that he means no harm and is simply oblivious to how the words spear her heart. She’s done being reduced to a spectator. She’s done sitting on the sidelines and merely being the third member of Team Seven who cannot compare to the great Uzumaki Naruto and infamous Uchiha Sasuke. Haruno Sakura is a Konoha shinobi, too. Haruno Sakura is an apprentice of one of the great prodigal three, too. 

She will take her stand here. Not once has she been proud of her life, of her journey of being a shinobi. But today, that will change. She always considered herself beneath them, figured that their destinies were simply far greater than hers. But Haruno Sakura, you are not only the third member of Team Seven, an apprentice of the prodigal three, but also the Fifth Hokage’s disciple. She feels the heat bubbling in her forehead as the 100 Healings Mark settles. Her once greatest insecurity has now become the shore which harbors her greatest achievement, and this time, she stands beside and not behind Naruto and Sasuke. This time, their clan crests circle each other as equals. Yes, this is how it was always meant to be. Even in the crossfire of war, Sakura cannot help but wish for this moment to last forever.

But when the tides of the war ebb and flow, as they do, she wonders if that feeling of equality were nothing more than her own childish delusions. A belief in grandeur, a meaningless faith in a destiny greater than oneself—was that all her efforts amounted to?

Obito is kneeling before her. Sasuke has been whisked away to some other realm in a different time-space that only Obito can reach. Naruto is off occupying Kaguya, and Sakura has once again been relegated to a supporting role where she cannot do anything on her own. Assisting others, helping others—don’t get her wrong, she’s happy to do these things. But it is so damn frustrating to see her teammates do, on their own, the things that she cannot. 

Sakura swore off self-pity years ago. Still, it manages to stick, like gum on the sole of your shoes, the residue forever there, unable to be washed off. As she’s pouring all her chakra into Obito, she can only pray for a miracle. She had tossed off her tattered combat vest, it falling to the floor as she quickly pushed her sleeves up. She released her mark, letting all the chakra she’d been kneading and storing flood through her. She can feel a prickling electricity travel down her neck down to arms, the mass amount of chakra she’s circulating through her body making her heat up, and if Obito can’t find Sasuke soon, she’s going to burst.

Suddenly, a portal opens, and off in the distance stands Sasuke, facing the opposite direction. She can see him as clear as day, though—she’s been staring at his back all this time, after all. She’d recognize it no matter the distance, because no physical distance can match the mental rift she’s come to realize exists between them. She still loves him, of course. But she can’t deny it any longer.

She yells his name. It falls off her tongue flawlessly because it is second nature. His name was engraved into her from the moment she was born—this was the boy she was always meant to love and always will.

Sasuke turns and begins to run, and it takes every fiber of Sakura’s being to maintain the portal, and she can tell Obito is struggling just as hard. She’s not sure how much longer she can hold out, and she can tell she’s nearing her end when the portal begins spasming, flickering as it tries to close. The portal is growing smaller and smaller as the seconds tick by, and Sasuke is nowhere near. This is it, Sakura thinks. This will take the place of the greatest failure of her life.

Her eyelids flutter as sparks fly from her hands, the heat combusting in her veins as she falls back from Obito, weakly. Her body is collapsing, and she can see the ground growing ever closer, until—

She feels an arm around her and a warm presence she could never mistake. She has barely enough strength to merely shift her gaze to the man who caught her, and she is met in return with the same red wheels of the Sharingan. But this time, there is no spite, no hatred, no vengeance. There is fire, but it is gentle and caressing, and suddenly she realizes there was never a rift between them at all. 

To show one’s back is to show vulnerability. To leave it unguarded symbolizes trust. Sasuke and Naruto have shown her theirs all this time not because they were leaving her behind, but because they knew she would never betray them. It’s so stupid. If that was what they meant, they should’ve just said that. Sakura feels a tear well up in her eye. 

“You’ve got it from here,” she mumbles, giving Sasuke a grin. 

Sasuke allows himself the slightest of smiles. “I made it here thanks to you,” he says.

“Hmph!” she scoffs with pride. “You got that right.”

“Sakura.” Her name sounds so right in Sasuke’s voice. “You did well.”

She feels a blush rise to her cheeks as her consciousness begins to fade. 

“Come back alive,” she says as he sets her down against a rock. “And tell that to stupid Naruto, too.”

Once this was all over, they would be together again. As three, as Team Seven. The way things were always meant to be. And this time, Sakura’s not falling behind.

[melvisik]

OFMD S2 SPOILERS (ISH)

I know this joke has already been made, but ah well...

Stede Bonnet after week under Izzy Hands' pirating tutelage (probably):

-Danny Kaye and Basil Rathbone in The Court Jester (1955)

[evilfloralfoolery]

Here is an extremely long character sheet for Grimm. I said I was going to do this ages ago and in true ADHD fashion, promptly forgot lol.

Under the cut because it's a lot of blather.

Name: Grimmwolf "Grimm" Amadis II

Age: 42

Star Sign: Aries/Taurus Cusp

Birthday: April 19

Partner: Indigo Solaris

Family: Auberon "Aubrey" Amadis (younger brother) and Clarence Amadis (father).

Appearance: 6'5" (198-ish cm). Thickly muscular. Black and grey tattoos all over in various places. One color tattoo of blue flames on his right wrist. Dark brown hair just past his shoulders that is "choppy" in a few places due to a target trying to saw it off with a knife. Some graying strands near his ears. Golden brown eyes. Usually has fairly dark stubble on his face. Wears a fuckton of black. Killer smile.

Weapon of choice: Glock 20, hand-to-hand combat, crossbow, aggressive smartassery.

Other Weapons: Able to summon a broadsword encased in blue fire and a shield that is the same due to his bond to Indigo. He's currently still figuring this out. Working on traditional bow under Indigo's tutelage.

Likes: Ramen, heavy metal, lifting heavy shit, reading classical literature, '80s horror movies, swearing, tea, the color black, weapons.

Dislikes: Modern slang, soup in a can, liars, pastels, short hair, sparkling water, complainers, whiners, extremists.

Allergic to: Lilies of all kinds, but especially Easter and Stargazer lilies. Dust.

Sensitive to: Cold weather, being wet for too long, rain, smoke.

Other Snzfucker Info: Notorious morning sneezer. Tends to sneeze in singles or doubles with pauses in between. Extreme warning and pre-sneeze face. Lots of visible and audible hitching. Tends to cover with a fisted hand or the crook of an elbow. On the lower end of medium/average volume. Should carry a handkerchief or tissues, but doesn't.

History: Grimm grew up around weapons and self-defense. He inherited his father's marksmanship and has always been stellar with both a gun and a crossbow. His father was part of an elite organization that he never fully discussed with Grimm until he was 18 years old. At that time, Grimm chose to go into the military where he became an expert sniper. He was granted honorable discharge after an injury sometime around the age of 25. After taking the time to heal and regroup, he joined the local police force and became one of the top sharpshooters in the country. At 36, he was inducted into F.I.R.E. (Field Interrogation and Reconnaissance Experts), which is his current line of work. F.I.R.E. works to eliminate criminally lethal targets and underground operations that are not only dangerous to individuals, but to the world at large. F.I.R.E was founded by Grimm's father and a handful of his associates.

Fun Facts:

*Grimm is named after his great grandfather.

*He wanted to be a fire fighter when he was younger.

*Grimm and his younger brother and his father are all 20 years apart.

*Grimm knows how to ballroom dance.

*He REALLY likes bacon cheeseburgers. Like, REALLY likes them lol.

*Aries/Taurus cusps are considered to the bravest and most loyal signs in the zodiac. They possess excellent leadership skills and selfless devotion to those they care about. They are also commonly referred to as "firecrackers" because of their personality. 😂

[amandacanwrite]

Violet Thread of Fate || Part Twelve : The Weave

Other Chapters || Join Taglist || Requests Open || Subscribe on AO3

Pairing || Elinna Inklynn (Half-drow tav) and Gale Dekarios. Briar Larklight (Gender Neutral Tav) x Halsin

Length || 4,300-ish Words

Scenario || In an alternative timeline for the events of BG3 Elinna Inklynn, an orphan from the Moonshae Islands seeks out the tutelage of accomplished wizard Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep. She has a knack with the Weave, but no money or connections to actually learn how to harness it. She has heard the wizard is a gentleman and a schollar, and hopes she can appeal to him to take her on as his apprentice in exchange for her help around his tower, with his research, and in running errands in Waterdeep. Unfortunately for her, Gale Dekarios does not take on apprentices.

Warnings || Age gap (Perhaps about 10ish years.) Description of scarring from corporal punishment. Mature themes. Shared memories of neglect and abuse. Descriptions of kissing.

A/N|| Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. If anyone has played BG3 you guys probably know what's about to come from Gale's side of the lanceboard, hohoho.

Comments and screaming reblogs are always appreciated, they let me know people are actually reading and enjoying these silly little stories I'm throwing together. No pressure, of course--Just know when you do I'm kicking my feet and giggling at each and every one! I hope the upcoming labor day (if you're in the US) treats you well.

Hopefully I will have another chapter for you very soon.

Taglist || @softvampirewhump @horizonstride @thoughts-of-bear @mymybirdie @tiedyedghoulette

@drabblesandimagines @madwomansapologist @hijirikaww @tryingtowritestuff24 @laserlope

@auroraesmeraldarose @puckprimrose @dont-try-pesticide @cherifrog @circusofthelastdays

@nourangul @crucibelle @fan-aaa-tic @listen-to-navi@spillthetaesissy

@sammywasnthere

@vermililion @weaponizedvirtue @leucineinthesky

Elinna sniffed, wiping an unwanted tear away from her face. 

She hated that her body responded to anger with tears. It was this very thing that prevented her from ever being taken seriously at The Nest, and now it was preventing her from even having a say with her traveling companions. 

She wished he had more to pack. The truth was, she didn’t want to go to the Underdark alone. She didn’t want to separate from Gale or the others.  

While she felt foolish for so immediately changing tune after promising Gale that she didn’t mind if her locket was ruined; that she wouldn’t mind if she never met her mother. Could she really be blamed for it? 

She picked up her bag and hitched it onto her shoulders, turning to leave the room. 

As she did, the door opened and Gale appeared. 

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms–blocking her exit. He inclined his head besetting her with a sort of…warning look, one a teacher might give an overstepping student; his lips quirked to the side and his thick brows rose, creasing his brow in such a way that it betrayed his age. 

The reminder of that disparity between them twisted uncomfortably in her gut for some reason she couldn’t name. Or perhaps preferred not to name.

“Don’t try to stop me,” Elinna said, hating how her voice warbled. 

“I’m not here to stop you–” Gale said. “Well, I am; but not from going to the Underdark. I’m trying to stop you from leaving now.”

“I told you, I’m not going to risk waiting longer–”

“You are fantastically stubborn, do you know that?” He said. 

“I don’t–” Elinna started.

“Elinna!” he said with an exasperated sigh. “Would you please listen?”

Elinna bit down on her lower lip, looking properly chastened. Silence fell between them for a few long moments.

Gale sighed and stepped off from where he leaned on the door, closing the small distance between them with two steps. 

Elinna could feel the warmth of his body as he lingered in front of her, his head still dropping and enabling him to keep his gaze on her. She felt warmth creeping up her nape as he looked at her and found herself unable to meet his warm chestnut gaze, feeling like she might drown in it if she risked it. 

“Will you come with me for a walk?” He asked. “I want to talk to you. Preferably away from three traveling companions with abnormally keen hearing.”

She finally took a hesitant look up at him, and found his full lips curved in a patient smile. 

“It has been…let’s see–five days since I’ve had the pleasure of your conversation,” he said. “I’d like to remedy that, if you’d allow it.

“You don’t have to pretend to enjoy my prattling,” Elinna said, dropping her gaze once more. “I know you indulge me at best.”

“Where did this sullenness come from? Not an hour ago you were telling me that I was your present,” he teased. “I thought I was one of the few who cared. Has your opinion of me changed so quickly?”

She felt her face warm more, this time paired with guilt for her sudden turn of attitude. 

Elinna’s eyes burned again and another tear fell onto her face. 

Gale clicked his tongue and lifted his calloused hand, swiping the wetness away with the pad of his thumb. She looked up at him again, green eyes meeting his own and not looking away for once. 

“No more of that, please,” he said, his voice low, his eyes full of…something. “I still owe you a proper apology for the day I was terrible to you. Unfortunately you have been very unconscious. So please. A walk.”

Elinna took a deep breath, thinking it through. She didn’t need to think for very long at all. She slid her pack off of her shoulders and gave it a toss onto her still-unmade bed. She couldn’t tell for sure, but she thought Gale heaved a sigh of relief. 

He offered her his bent arm, just as he had when he’d introduced her to Halsin, Briar and Astarion. Part of her wanted to read into the gesture; she’d seen the well-to-do boys in Moonshae walk like that with the young ladies they courted. She remembered wishing a boy would offer her an arm like that. 

The boys in the tavern only ever offered her a night in their beds; and that was if they were the polite ones. Now a fully grown man stood in front of her, offering her this small intimacy that she had pined for, in secret, for years. 

She wondered if Gale knew what he was doing to her poor heart. Perhaps he just thought that it was obvious that he would never take an interest in her; at least not romantically. Whatever the case, it was the sweetest sort of torture to wonder what thoughts went through his head; if he carried the same sort of interest in her as she did in him.

She slipped her hand onto the crook of his arm and he smiled wider, a flash of perfect teeth showing. “Excellent,” he said. “Now, close your eyes for just a moment.”

“Why?” Elinna asked. 

“Because I said so,” he teased, lifting his free hand and giving her a playful flick on her nose. “Close them.”

Elinna finally snorted a laugh, rubbing the affronted spot. She acquiessed, closing her eyes, though she had a hard time hiding the smile that threatened to make a home on her lips.

“That’s better,” he said warmly.  

Elinna felt a sort of building of energy; a bit of a buzzing crackle in the air that made it taste a little stale; smell like the wind before a crack of lightning struck.

And then the faint brush of a breeze through the loose, curling tendrils of her hair. 

“Open them, if you like,” Gale said. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself standing beside Gale. A silvery pond slept nearby, seemingly fed by a babbling brook that had burst through the ground from a spring somewhere below. They were all shaded by the blue-green branches of willow trees, swaying in the wind as Elinna’s hair had. Lily pads peppered the pond, and once in a while, a fish would break the surface of the water to snatch some unseen insect or speck of algae floating above it.

Beneath their feet, a dirt path that led through the trunks of the willows, inviting them to continue on. She looked up at Gale and he gestured ahead with his free hand. “Shall we?”

Elinna nodded and they began to walk. 

“Your absence gave me much to think about, Elinna,” he said. 

“It must have given you the chance to hear your own thoughts,” she mumbled under her breath. 

“Stop that,” he said, bumping her wish his shoulder. “Self-doubt is almost as unbecoming on you as it is on me.”

Is that what this was? Self doubt?

Now that he’d given the feeling a name, she supposed that was exactly what it was. 

“You don’t think I can hold my own,” Elinna said by way of explaining her moping. “None of you do.”

“Objectively, you can’t–” he started. 

“So then can you blame me?” She interrupted. 

“No–I don’t blame you, and that was the point I was trying to get to, if you’d give me the chance,” he said. “You were right, down at that table–when you said that no one was giving you the help you needed to hold your own. And perhaps most right in that regard when it came to my own contributions.”

“You don’t have an interest in acting as a mentor to me–if anything has become clear to me since we started our…alliance…it’s that,” she said. 

“The reasons for my not taking on apprentices are complex, Elinna,” he said. “But they become even more complex when it comes to your tutelage, specifically.”

“Why?” she asked. 

“Because the dynamic between a master and an apprentice is one with a power imbalance. In particular, it would put me in the position of your superior,” he said. “And I…find myself not wanting to impose such a power imbalance on my relationship with you. I would rather have you as an equal, if I’m honest.”

Elinna’s expression fell, her head glancing askance as she tried not to let Gale see it. Her thoughts started tangling into a mess of disappointment and self-pity. If only he realized that in spite of what he wished when it came to the dynamic between them, he would always be her superior. He would always be unreachable to her, in more ways than one–in more ways than he could ever truly know.

“But,” he continued. “There is nothing to say that I can’t teach an equal magic that they don’t know.”

Elinna’s mind came to a screeching halt as she whipped her head to look up at Gale again. He was already looking sidelong down at her, his eyes narrowed knowingly, his lips tugged up into a bit of a cheeky smirk. 

“Y-you–you–” Elinna stammered. 

“Yes?” Gale said, sounding all too pleased with her speechlessness.

“I–” Elinna started once more, huffing out a breath. “Well–”

“I do so love when I get to render someone speechless, especially one so talkative as you,” Gale said. “Take it slowly, Elinna–”

“You…” Elinna said, her voice becoming heavy, forcing herself to form a sentence. “You are a bastard.”

Gale gaped, expression aghast. “Excuse me?!” he retorted. “I offer to teach you magic and you call me, of all things, a bastard?!”

“You knew exactly what you were doing–”

“I was giving you good news with a bit of dramatic timing,” he said. “ Have you never heard of a surprise?! Elminster’s growling gut–I didn’t even know you were capable of language like that!”

“I spent all of my free time singing for coin in taverns! Of course I’m capable of such language!” Elinna said. “You were playing with my emotions! And that makes you a bastard!”

“Elinna, I am going to teach you magic. Can we stay on topic, please?” Gale said, a curve to his lips despite the sudden onset of an argument. “We can continue the debate on whether or not I am a bastard after your first lesson!”

“I hasten to point out that you were the one who got us so off topic,” Elinna said. 

“Elinna,” he said. “Focus.”

Elinna pressed her lips together, not wanting to reward him with a smile–not when it would make him feel so pleased with himself all over again. All the same, she couldn’t help that her own lips started to curve. 

“Are you going to teach me my first lesson now?” She asked, her voice quiet and even a bit conspiritorial as she lifted her thumb to bite at its nail in nervous excitement. 

“Why else would I have brought you out here if not to guard against the slight possibility that you might set something on fire?” Gale said warmly. “Only if you feel up to it, of course. You just woke up and you haven’t eaten yet.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more energized for something in my life,” Elinna said. 

“I had an idea that would be the case,” Gale said, smirking again. 

They walked for just a little while longer, the babbling brook acting as a companion as they traveled. The clearing Gale promised came into view, a large circular space with a craggy floor of dense packed clay and slabs of stone. More willows stretched upward toward the sky above them, the long branches seemingly trimmed in preparation for this lesson. 

“We have four of the five elements in this space,” Gale said, “making it a great place for us to conjure the weave.”

“Earth, water, air…” Elinna said. “Where is the fire?”

“The fourth we have is spirit,” Gale corrected. “As for the fire…”

Gale held his free hand up, conjuring a small ball of flame before letting it float to a small pile of willow branches and setting it ablaze. 

“There we are,” he said. “Now, we’re going to start with something basic–something even more basic than the cantrips you know. You’re simply going to learn to conjure the weave and to hold onto it. I will be acting as a conduit, but only enough to make it more tangible for you. What you accomplish here today, it is your magic to be proud of.”

“Alright,” Elinna said with a nod, her chest tight with anticipation. 

“So, what do you know about the weave, Elinna?” Gale asked. “Run me through it.”

“From my reading…” Elinna said. “It’s the essence of Mystra herself, and it runs through everything on our material plane. Through its pathways magic travels to those who would use it.”

“Excellent,” Gale said with a proud smile. “Could not have said it better myself.”

Elinna’s heart fluttered with Gale’s praise. 

“Now–the times I have done this with others; with people who weren’t hoping to master the use of the weave, I’ve made it easy for them. But I’m going to challenge you, Elinna. I’ll challenge you as I was challenged by Elminster as a youth. You may find yourself frustrated, but hold fast. Believe in yourself as I believe in you,” Gale said. 

“Do you?” Elinna asked. “Believe in me?”

Gale’s eyebrows quirked up. “How could you even ask me something like that?”

Elinna exhaled softly. “‘Equals?’” She quoted from their argument before Astarion had taken her as his captive. “‘Of all the delusions…’”

Gale grimaced. 

“Elinna…” he said, stepping forward and lifting one of his hands into hers. “I was so abhorrent to you a few days ago. I haven’t had an opportunity to properly apologize yet. I am sorry for the things that I said. I know I’m not able to take it back, but I hope you trust me enough to believe me when I say I didn’t mean a word of what I said when I was so cruelly disparaging your character.” He sighed. “You have been the most pleasant surprise in my life so far, and I wish I could show you how deeply I regretted what I did–I wish you could have borne witness to my contrition while you recovered.”

The apology was...overwhelming…for Elinna. She merely wanted a confirmation that he truly meant what he’d said when he’d said he believed in her. Instead he’d given her the apology equivalent of a love confession. Or perhaps…that was merely wishful thinking. 

Gale was always so grandiose–seemingly in everything–perhaps she shouldn’t read into the linking of their arms; the brushing away of her tears; the way his hand now cradled her own. 

“I believe in you, Elinna,” he said. “Implicitly, completely. If there is anyone who has a passion for magic that perhaps rivals my own, it’s you.”

Elinna swallowed and forced herself to nod, wondering how her focus would manifest now that she was fighting the urge to swoon with his high opinion of her. 

“Now,” Gale said, releasing her hand and taking a few steps back from her. “The weave is exactly what it sounds like–as you said, its threads run through every facet of our reality. As magic users, we pluck and pull at the threads and, by extension, alter the tapestry of that reality.”

Elinna nodded. 

“We do this through casting gestures.” Gale lifted his hands and moved them just so, causing a brief spark to materialize. “And through invocations–such as your unfortunate use of misty step upon our first meeting.”

“You didn’t use an invocation to teleport us here,” she pointed out. 

“That was going to be my next point, actually,” he said. “Once a wizard or sorceress is learned enough, they can use the weave without any such aids. But for you, as a novice, they will help you remain focused on the spell you’re attempting to cast.”

“For simply touching the weave, you only need one casting gesture,” Gale said as he lifted his hand and placed it over his chest. “Place your hands over your heart.”

Elinna nodded, lifting her gloved fingers to her chest and pressing them to the spot over her heart. 

“Focus on the way your heart feels in your chest, how it feels…how it feels like it contains your own essence in the same way the weave contain’s Mystra’s essence. Feel how it connects you to everything around you; how it connects you to Halsin and Briar. How it connects you to Astarion. How it connects you even to me…”

Elinna closed her eyes, lest his words encourage her to look at him directly and render her distracted. She followed his instructions, thinking about the threads that bound up her own fate with that of her traveling companions. How even the vampire that nearly got her killed was now somehow their ally. 

She thought of the moments she’d shared with Gale in privacy, and how even after only a few short days, she found herself utterly and unerringly loyal to him. 

“Fantastic work,” Gale said, his voice so quiet that she could hear the movement of his tongue in the seat of his mouth. “You’re wrapping the weave around your fingers now, you may not be able to sense it yet, but I can see it.”

“Mm,” Elinna said, wanting to acknowledge his words, but not wanting to lose the focus she’d cultivated. 

“Now, I want you to imagine those threads as lines on a piece of parchment–think of when you first learned to write. I know that memory is one that is likely fraught with pain for you, but focus on what it enabled you to do–what it enabled you to learn on those late nights up in The Nest. With your heart, with your essence, you’re going to write on those lines–only you will write with your voice rather than a pen,” he said. 

“Alright,” she said. 

“Repeat after me: ‘Ah-Thran, Mystra-ryl, Kantrach Ao,” he said. 

In her mind’s eye, she imagined it. The threads of weave stretching out into the stars as three violet, shimmering lines, such as on a child’s notebook. She imagined her voice as the quill which etched out the words in careful script. 

“Ahthran, Mystraryl, Kantrach Ao,” she repeated, the words seeming to resonate and echo in her own ears; seeming to vibrate in her chest. 

The smell of…lilacs and sweet, honeyed wine filled her nostrils. She felt at peace as she stood there with her hands still touching her heart. It was the sensation of being flirted with for the first time by someone who she thought of as beautiful. It was the first time she lay in bed with a book she simply couldn’t put down, finding joy in the story in lieu of getting a restful sleep. It was the way Gale’s thumb felt against the sweep of her cheekbone when he wiped away her errant tear. 

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Gale said, his voice so close and quiet now that she could almost feel his breath against the pointed shell of her ear. Her arms beneath her waistcoat prickled with gooseflesh, she felt almost as if she awaited a kiss.  “There is only one thing remaining. You must picture in your mind the image of perfect harmony, whatever that might be to you.”

Elinna felt as if she had almost entered a trance state. There were no thoughts floating in her mind–only feelings and images and finally, the melody of a song. 

To her knowledge, it was not a song she had heard before, and yet she knew the words as if they had been penned onto her very heart. Her voice sounded before she could stop it, and the song flowed out of her, channeled from her soul as she used it to channel the weave. 

Sleep little one under moon's soft light

Stars will watch you through the night

Though I must part the sky's gentle gleam

Will keep you safe in a tender dream

Under the moon and stars so bright

You’ll feel my love through the lonesome night

Though we're apart, my love will stay

In every star’s light, till the break of day

Close your eyes, let night wind sing

Of the peace the familiar dark can bring

Though I'm away my love is near

In every star you'll find me, dear

Elinna was grateful for her eyes being closed as she finished the sorrowful lullaby that bubbled to her lips in her state. She didn’t know exactly why, but she found herself wanting to cry. She wondered if she’d heard it in a drink-addled state from one of the more sullen bards that frequented the inns she used to go to in hopes of earning a few coins. 

She didn’t have long to think about it before she heard Gale’s soft voice just beside her though. 

“Elinna,” he said, his voice quiet with awe. “You’ve done it.”

Her amber lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes to a breathtaking sight. 

Her hands dropped at her sides as she found herself standing beside Gale in an orb of perfect, starlit darkness.

She looked down at her boots, the clay ground having given way to inky, violet night sky. Silvery stars blinked around her, and as she lifted one of her fingers to touch one of them, it flew across the sky she had conjured, breaking into a breathtaking cascade of smaller stars. 

The stars coalesced to form the shape of a moth, and the creature fluttered to Gale’s awaiting open hand. 

“Incredible,” he said in a whisper. “Elinna, I think you may be an unwitting sorceress.”

“Really?” Elinna asked. “I thought most of this came from you.”

He looked at her, and the way that his eyes sparkled as they crinkled with mirth took her breath away. “No,” he said. “I may have wrangled a thread here or there, but this illusion you’ve conjured…that was all you. You can feel it, can’t you?”

She could, she realized. The harmony she envisioned with the song that materialized from somewhere inside of her had expanded to encompass every part of her. Every cell, every thought. There was a sweet taste on the tip of her tongue; like the subtle, sweet tang of bee pollen. Her heart swelled with affection–several different kinds of affection, in fact. The care you feel for a small animal when it looks at you with wide, marble-like eyes. The intimacy of a close friendship–like the one she had with Gale. 

There was the awe of seeing something entirely new and unexpected. The excitement of a new experience. And underneath all of it was something altogether new for her. 

The pleasant feeling of new love. Or perhaps what she thought new love might feel like. 

At the same time she identified it, she saw Gale’s chest expand with a deep, steadying breath. His eyes searched hers, and for once she didn’t find herself shying away from it. 

No, in fact, she found herself emboldened by the rush of power and pride flooding her veins. She let her eyes fall to his lips and, for once, let herself freely imagine just what she might like to do with them–where she would like to feel them. 

She imagined, if only for a moment, what it might feel like for Gale to brush not only his thumb against the crest of her cheekbone, but what it must feel like to have his calloused hand cup the side of her face. She imagined how clumsy her lips might feel to him, being the practiced older man that he was. How he might show her just how lips were meant to mingle and enmesh when it was done correctly; just as he taught her to pluck the strings of the weave. 

She was lost in the image for a long time, almost feeling the slick sensation of his tongue tracing her lower lip, begging for entry. The taste of his afternoon tea on his tongue. The taste of moonlight on her own throat as he lapped the spot where her neck met her jaw. 

Gale cleared his throat, and her eyes snapped back to his. 

“How do you feel?” he asked her. 

“Incredible,” she breathed, echoing his earlier sentiment, though she didn’t quite notice just how sensual her voice sounded. 

And then, just as quickly as it came, the illusion flickered and vanished. 

Her knees buckled and Gale caught her, arms supporting her weight with ease. 

“Careful, Elinna,” Gale gasped as he adjusted her in his arms, albeit a bit clumsily. “Are you alright?”

Elinna blinked, the warm, comfortable feeling dissipating and leaving her feeling…cold….and lonesome. 

“W-what happened?” she asked. “Where did it go?”

“You released it…” Gale said, examining her face. “And you’re looking a mite pale, as well.”

Her stomach let out an embarrassing sound, like a dog grumbling. 

“Ah,” he said, “Well, that would certainly explain it. Perhaps we shouldn’t have attempted this on an empty stomach after all. Forgive me, as much as I believed in your abilities, I didn’t expect you to conjure something quite so advanced. I’m sure it burned through whatever reserves of energy you had left.”

She gave him a bittersweet smile and nodded. “I told you you shouldn’t underestimate me,” she teased. 

“And when did you say that?” Gale said, his voice warmly amused. 

“Mmn,” she said as she got back onto her feet. “Maybe I didn’t. But consider yourself properly warned now.”

Gale chuckled. “Oh, I very well do,” he said. “Come Elinna, let’s get you back to the inn and fill that belly of yours.”

Elinna gave an airy, almost silly little laugh. “Very well,” she said. 

She couldn’t wait to tell the others the good news. 

She was a sorceress!

[serialadoptersbracket]

Round 2, Match 49: Han Muchun vs. Iroh

Submitted kids:

Han Muchun: Yan Zhengming, Li Yun, Cheng Qian, Han Yuan, Han Tan

Iroh: Gaang

Propaganda under the cut!

Han Muchun:

1. “While he was alive? -ish he got five Yan Zhengming our pretty peacock, Li yun the resident forg boy, Cheng Qian childhood ambition to be a serial killer, Han Yuan representing the never ending cycle of how the poor become criminals and a demon bird Shui Keng.

He is a shizun fucker by which I mean he does try to posthumously marry his teacher by attending to his teacher who is chained up for However long their consciousness last.

He is a Great father instilled so many family values in five children by just being an eccentric weasel spirit.”

2. “Han Muchun is a teacher of cultivation with weird, scrungly dad energy. His disciples use the more informal address “shifu” for him which literally translates to “martial father”. He agrees to teach Yan Zhengming after saving his life and YZM imprinting on him like a duckling. It’s unknown how he met Li Yun but he collected him second. He collects Cheng Qian because the boy’s indifferent biofamily wanted to sell him to Han Muchun, and Han Muchun decided to take him in. They meet a starving orphan on the way home, and Han Muchun gives him a name (Han Yuan) and takes him in and teaches him too. Those four find an egg of a half bird creature half human girl, take it home, and Han Muchun takes her in too. She’s given the name Han Tan, and there’s literally scenes of him changing her diaper. He is their dad.”

3. “Best teacher-dad! The five kids are actually his disciples, but to most of them he's more of a parent than any of their birth parents. Cheng Qian's parents literally sold him, Han Yuan was a homeless beggar, Li Yun's parents aren't even mentioned, and Han Tan hatched from an egg the older four brought home (she's half bird yao/supernatural creature). The only one who has family that cares about him is Yan Zhengming and even he actually came under Han Muchun's tutelage because he ran away from home. And Han Muchun accepted this bunch of chaotic kids from different backgrounds, and won their trust, and made them into the found family that wasn’t broken even by a 100 years of separation and everything else that happened in canon (that'd be very spoiler-y to explain)”

No propaganda was submitted for Iroh

[cryptidsncurios]

AU: ARE YOU LYCAN MY STYLE

a.k.a.

Xigbar is a Werewolf in this One and As Usual There’s a Lot To Unpack So Get Ready Kids

[[bio subject to change/additions if necessary]]

Name: Designated Luxu, and has changed names throughout the course of time. Currently goes by “Xigbar”

Age: Exact age unknown, but like... old af

Birthdate: Year unknown, but he remembers May 22nd from way back, so sure, that's it now

Creation Location: Modernly the Russian region, exact location unknown

Ethnicity: Modernly identifies as Russian, possibly half something else, but uncertain

Languages: English, Russian, West Slavic languages, and plenty of bits and pieces of various other languages

Height: Human form - 6′0" (About 183 cm) ; Wolf form - Approx. 9ft fully standing (About 274 cm)

Weight: Human -180-ish lbs (About 82-ish kg) ; Wolf form - Uhhh Heavy. :|

Race: Lycan

Sex / Gender: Cisgender Male

Sexual / Romantic Orientation: Pansexual / Demiromantic

History:

Perhaps Luxu had always been what he was---something a little more than a werewolf, but nonetheless a captive of the moon's power.

His pack consisted of a strange bunch---referred to as the "Foretellers"---always in robes and masks, and under the tutelage of he who was called "Master of Masters." They were magical, the lot of them, including Luxu---ancient and terrifying. Mortals that knew of their existence feared and revered them, as though they were something close to deities, and would clamor for their benevolence and protection.

But after some time of roaming the world, far into the east, the Master gave them each an important "Role"---Roles that would dictate the future, though he never specified exactly how, and each were told in secret from the others---and Luxu was no different. He was tasked with observing the evolution of mankind---and that, amongst them, one amongst the pack would turn traitorous towards their Role.

Thus Luxu was given the Gazing Eye---that which had belonged to the Master himself, then horrifically implanted into his right eye---and when the pain had finally subsided, he found himself alone, left with nothing more than his Role and his intuition as his guide.

And so he wandered the vast world, traveling ever-westward from what would some day be called "Russia," the years ticking by. Despite the curses he carried---both his lycanthropy and the Eye that so often plagued him with its agonies---he attempted to adapt to a normal lifestyle, trying to blend in with the blossoming human population as best as he could.

Each attempt ended in failure.

Whether due to the still-uncontrollable violence of the Wolf within him, or his extended lifespan, all of his efforts were for naught. And with no companions with which he could share his life, and no chance for him to have a family due to his biology, Luxu was cast into utter despair. Attempts were made to cease this despair---but even that was impossible.

Thus, he continued his traveling and his aching, adopting new aliases and seeking purpose beyond his Role that he had come to see as an eternal hell on earth.

Adopting the identity of "Braig" in the mid-1900s, serendipity seemingly led him to what would become his life for several decades: joining the growing pack of a lycan named "Xehanort."

Xehanort had a family of his own already, kin that he had created from human-shaped dolls called "Replicas," with the assistance of an associate named Even (who would, eventually, be the second to have the Bite befall him, after Dilan and before Aeleus). These beings created from the Replicas were dubbed his "sons," named Xemnas the Superior (idk how ansem will fit into this but whatevs, i might figure it out later??), Ansem the Seeker, and the Young One. (again idk listen this can change.)

Braig---dubbed "Xigbar" upon his entry into the fold---was the first outsider to join (and intrigued Xehanort with what he could sense was powerful lycanthropy, thus his allowance into the pack), followed by Xaldin, Vexen, and etc, all the way to Roxas.

Vexen then furthered his experiments with the Replicas at the behest of Xehanort---though, despite his passion for scientific research, became acutely suspicious that Xehanort's plans were moving beyond simply making their "family" a tad larger.

And of course, Xigbar had been aware of Xehanort's malice from the beginning.

Once perfected, he intended use his magical prowess to absorb all the abilities and power that he had granted and nurtured within the rest of the pack, and combine it with the Replicas---to create terrifying werewolves that could probably destroy anything in their path.

Because, like... world domination, or whatever. Or maybe to balance out werewolves to humans. There's definitely some kind of Prophecy involved but.. Like, this is Xehanort, does it really have to make sense? Nah, it just has to work.

In the end, aside the 'Nort family, the pack worked together---Xigbar included---and destroyed all of the Replicas, and each and every trace of research was stolen away by Vexen---to which location it was delivered to remain forever a secret. (It was at this point that, from one of the Replicas was tainted with Xigbar's spilled blood, and thus Xion ( @perditos )---basically his daughter---was created, and taken under the control of Vexen for even further study, with Xigbar's DNA tampered through, y'know, science-y stuff. But that is something he would have to deal with in the future...)

Plans thwarted, Xehanort and his family retreated to who-knows-where, and the pack dissolved, each of them going their own ways.

And so Xigbar exists in Salem, MA these days---just chillin', I s'pose.

...At least, until he has to deal with the next living nightmare.

World Notes:

This is the kind of world where everything fantastical exists. Therefore, ethereal beings, mythical monsters, and all creatures that are a part of global lore are real in this universe, and have been around for as far as history recalls. However, they’ve all had to adapt over time to fit into the ways of the modern world, no longer exactly feared and revered as they used to be. So catch your vampires working at your local 24-hour gas station during the nightshift, forest nymphs tending to the gardening section of the hardware store, and—for the G.aiman fans—djinns driving taxi cabs in the big city. To the untrained eye, though, they’re just people like anyone else.

Werewolf Rules:

There are actually an array of forms of lycanthropy that differ from the type of curse that Xigbar himself has, with their individual quirks. Xigbar's particular lycanthropic curse is unique in that his Bites are instantaneously fatal, as his birth with the Master and the Foretellers is quite mysterious in origin. However, other forms of lycanthropy will turn others through the Bite (such as Xehanort and his clan), but only if the victim of the attack survives. Often werewolf attacks prove lethal due to their viciously venemous nature, but those with strong blood and resolve will recover, albeit now burdened with the curse.

Initially, the transformations of newly-born werewolves are uncontrollable and completely dictated by the moon, victims of the curse thrown into a mindless, frenzied state, starving only for a release from their bloodlust. However, over time and through force of will, one can control their urges during the full moon metamorphoses, and—eventually—engage in transformations at will, even without the aid of the moon’s power (Xigbar's ability is at this point, due to his experience). In the end, though, a metamorphosis must take place during the full moon.

No matter their age, however, transformations still take a physical toll, and depending on how long they’ve been transformed, time equivalent must be taken to recuperate.

Werewolves are usually grouped into families or packs. Within families, usually there is an understood hierarchy, but when wolves from different families, unrelated by blood, form a pack, this often causes an innate power struggles for dominance—hence the creation of ranks.

The particular form of lycanthropy Xigbar has rendered him sterile, so he's just a lonely lil fella from here on out. :(

The number one weakness of werewolves as a whole? Silver. (And, hilariously, Xigbar himself has a whole cache of silver bullets—just in case he has to deal with any unwanted guests.)

There is no known cure for the lycanthropic curse.

Odds and Ends:

Xigbar has studied a slew of religions and spiritual beliefs, but ultimately, he has become somewhat enamored of Paganism. The deities he occasionally pays tribute to are Jarilo (a Slavic deity) and Dionysus (Greek), both of which are closely tied in origin—and he likes them because they’re just overall pretty chill in his book. He also admires Artemis, due to her association with archery, the hunt, and the moon.

He jokingly identifies as a Vědmák, even though it’s not completely accurate, but it still gives him a chuckle.

Originally incredibly skilled with a bow, Xigbar has updated his skill to firearms, and—as always—is an amazing shot.

He currently semi-resides in Salem, MA, due to New England’s rather magical leanings drawing him there.

[[more to be added]]

[mmslooney007]

The (short-ish) Review No One Needed Or Asked For ™ - Tomorrow

Certified tear jerker.

Character-wise

Meet Choi Jungwoong, our golden retriever of a man. He's so desperate for employment that he takes a job in the afterworld. Koo Ryeon, our heroine (?), is vengeance with a killer fashion sense. Lim Ryung-gu completes our trio and is like the common man who clocks out at his eight hours. Very nonchalant personality.

Others to note are Park Joong-gil, our chip-off-the-shoulder, by-the-book edgelord, and the Jade Emperor, the ultimate observer with intense shoulder pads.

Plot-wise

We follow our guy as he works in the afterworld as a grim reaper who saves people who want to unalive themselves under the tutelage of Batman herself and 8hrs-only Robin. Very touching. We explore some reasons why people are crushed under the weight of life and our subplot is uncovering Koo Ryeon's past life to see how it affects the Present, and the future of the Risk Management Team (that devotes itselves to saving people).

Takeaway

Grim Reapers in Korea are serving looks, power, and prestige in cooperate fashion. You get a lanyard in life and death, and (1) day off. The trade off? Powers. That's right. You might be exhausted, but you can stop time and maybe catch a nap.

Props

To the last couple of episodes. Listen, Angel's Last Mission disguised as saving her friend (because friendship IS magic, My Little Pony was right) but really, it was her saving herself. But also, very satisfying to watch because the right people got beat up. You wanna see revenge served? Order coming right up. Koo Ryeon is perfect and did no wrong ever.

My Rating...

9/10

... because why is the rule at Grim Reapers Inc., to not interfere with the living but that's literally what the RM Team does.

[confusedgoldenflower]

In my half asleep state of painsomnia, my brain conjured a storyline of abandoned human baby Miya being found and cared for by pink kistune Kaoru/Cherry who is joined by obnoxious green dragon Kojiro/Joe in ancient Japan (yes, I’ve looked too long at some certain fanart—I legit can’t find the storyline to that. If you know, pls share link or smthg).

Around cannon age, Miya’s human parents find out he’s alive and since they didn’t have any other son (idk why they abandoned him yet) or whatever reason, they want him back. So like upright and moral, however spiritual, creatures, the kitsune and dragon assemble at the village for the hearing or whatever. Kaoru explains to Miya that those are his birth parents, as he’s explained before Miya’s human and neither him nor Kojiro are his *real* parents.

Miya at first scares them because he goes to the humans, but only to ask why he should ‘return’ to them and see them as his parents when, despite his human nature, Kojiro has taught him how to fly (whoops I’m getting it mixed with my wuxia) and though useless in his hands, he’s able to conjure “fox fire” under Kaoru’s tutelage. They, the humans, didn’t have to leave him to die in the forest (the reasoning explained by now), yet they did.

Likewise, Kaoru had no obligation to glance twice at the sick babe on the forest floor being stung by centipedes; Kaoru could have just as easily devoured both creatures or even taken it to fool the village to worship him. Yet he didn’t. Instead, Kaoru transformed into a human-ish appearance and scooped him up, holding him close and giving heat and love, cocooned in his many tails. He worried after the foreign creature and fussed himself into sickness as to how to care for him, because why would a kitsune who doesn’t have a habit of messing with humans know anything about them much less their medicine?

Likewise, Kojiro had noticed the stressed pair and though also unbeholdent to either creature, wrapped his long body around them and summoned a healing fire in his maw to keep the babe warm for thirteen days and nights as Kaoru suffused spiritual energy into the small body.

They could have dropped him back into the village when he was healthier than a young tortoise and purer than a Buddha, but they didn’t, because the very fact Miya had been left to die sewed distrust. Still, they could have dropped him in another village. Still, they didn’t.

Miya’s life should have ended so early, and yet he’d been raised by beings who shouldn’t have bothered with such a powerless creature, taught great feats of spirituality even though he largely didn’t posses the capability, taught how to hunt; them all learning how human shaped beings did so at the same time, and shown the tremendous respect, loyalty, caring and cunning from the beasts beyond nature.

Even now, they stood in their humanlike forms, letting themselves be surrounded by humans and openly showing their worry to lose their child to the humans that cast him off to begin with.

So no, even if Miya’s birth parents were daimyo, and the great beasts but cat and salamander spirits, there would be nothing that his human parents could offer him greater than what he had with Baba and Papa.

Lemme know if anyone wants to see that.

[Can I entice you with the mental image of teeny Miya snuggling into big pink, fluffy kitsune Kaoru with a dopey dragon looking on like 😍.]

(And then they have to attend some heavenly meeting and Kaoru gives Miya the humanish appearance with cute ears and two tails so he can bring his baby boy with him.)

[eretzyisrael]

11 Sivan - Bnei Brak - 1924

On this day in 1924, the town of B’nai Brak was settled just east of Tel Aviv in Israel. The town is originally mentioned in the Book of Yehoshua and is most famous for being the place of the all-night Seder mentioned in the Passover Haggadah that was led by R’ Akiva. During the 4th Aliyah, 8 Chassidic families immigrated from Poland intending to build a religious agricultural settlement. By 1933, those 8 families had attracted over 1,000 others including the Chazon Ish who was considered the leading Rabbi in Israel until he died in 1953. The Jewish world was being guided from his little house in the town. By 1948, the population would be almost 10,000, and today there are nearly 200,000 residents. In 1950, B’nai Brak became an official city of the young State of Israel.

Much of the growth and development of B’nai Brak can be attributed to R’ Yosef Shlomo Kahaneman. R’ Kahaneman had already led the city of Ponevezh in Lithuania for 20 years. One of the largest Jewish cities in Lithuania, under his tutelage the city exploded as a center of Torah. At the outbreak of WWII, he was on a trip to Israel and found himself stranded there. He continued to run the city’s institutions from afar. In 1941, the city of Ponevezh was decimated first by the Red Army and then a few days later by the Nazis y”s. The local Yeshiva was destroyed and all its students were murdered. What was R’ Kahaneman’s response? Within two years he opened the Ponevezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak with Rommel and the Nazis just a few sand dunes away in North Africa. As Europe was up in smoke, he saw his duty to rebuild Torah in Israel. Within a few months, Rommel would be dead and the Ponevezh Yeshiva would be on its way to making R’ Kahaneman’s vision a reality.

Rabbi Pinchas L. Landis

[searchingforserendipity25]

Daeron/Maglor?

(I am also bored and cheerful 😄)

thank you @polutrope!!

i love them. i love them so much. they're so funny. just two guys trying to reinvent themselves by the water and they're foils and also they should hate each other. but they don't. i think, mostly because maglor has crossed the project-hatred phase and daeron does not do hatred. he can mimic it, he can sing it, but he is not hateful by nature, he is not a warrior, he is not someone who destroys. even when he wants to be! guy cursed to be a creating force, also apprenticed under a creating force (possibly melian's tutelage has oath-ish implications...).

this has zero to do with maglor's deserving of it or not. which they both know. a fun dynamic!

i do think they are together, at the end, the very end of the world. a good time before then, too, enough to be the oldest married couple in ME for a long, long time - so ancient their songs blend together, and they are solidly terrifying, and a little bit too solidly connected for healthy elf-marriage standards.

that takes many many ages to happen, tho. until then they keep meeting through the ages and running the gamut from furious dueling to amiable fish-barbecues to, idk, joint meditation on the Music with erotic undertones.

they're in absolutely sweeping mutual resonance love since the first meeting and that never changes, regardless of how much they do alter. they can both look through each other in a way no one else can! they read each other in the same language! absolutely terrifying and heady (and sexy) stuff. this doesn't make things easier at all, but it never changes.

also from the first, maglor keeps offering to murder people daeron deslikes on a whim and that's flirting but also it's vr earnest. he does have maglor kill at least one guy, but daeron hoards his cards carefully. for a very very long time he is very very blatant about not wanting any of maglor's guilt-devotion.

until the time passes and they grow and keep meeting and turns out it's just plain devotion now <3 but he did say his denial first, and that's important. also makes the getting together part needlessly full of hesitation on both parts, and not even just because of pride. only mostly! #growth.

oh! at some point daeron lets slip he was the guy playing courtly lute accompaniment to thingol's petty dwarf hunting parties, and maglor is so so so unbearable about it.

[erenaeoth]

Fleeing from his home on Yakushima, fifteen-year-old Kazama Jin seeks out his grandfather. The world he is about to encounter is like nothing he has ever known.

Set over four years, Jin will have to navigate this entirely new way of life all while learning under the iron fist of his grandfather's tutelage. He must ultimately decide how much of himself he's willing to lose in pursuit of revenge - a decision those that love him intend to fight him over until the last.

My new Tekken story is here :)

The story is set over four years and each chapter will be short-ish and slice-of-life based - some continuing on directly, others skipping weeks or months. The chapters will be written from different POVs, and this will be gentler in pace than any of my previous works. Foremost it's an exploration of Jin and the kaleidescope of things that make him up, meandering through his life and the difficulties and loves he encounters.

I recommend reading it on AO3, but it will also be updated on FF.Net.

[2dayihaveaheadache]

Folks welcome to the multifandom mythical land of Felixmania!

I’m Felix, a literature and art history major with a passion for neologisms, Shakespeare, and classic philosophy. To put it simply, I do create content about Obikin, AzirCrow, Cherik, Johnlock, and Marauders (Jegulus, Wolfstar) stuff. You find here historical AUs, snippets, and WIPS.

So, here we have Felix’s Obikin (Star Wars) snippets:

Senator Obi-Wan AU: On the annual Coruscantian celebration Obi-Wan gets charmed by a pleasure slave, desperate do everything get a taste of him, Hellenistic worldbuilding, a lot of Art references. (explore the texts here)

Neighbors AU: Obi-Wan is a struggling single dad of two. Anakin offers to help – in more than one way. (here)

Valentine’s Day AU: Literature professor Kenobi spends another lonely night out drinking Whiskey at a bar in New York City (a sad Valentine’s Day, right?) until Anakin, very Twink-ish, comes around with a witty pickup line and plunges him into full-on sexual crisis (all hail midlife crisis). (find the text here) (now overworked and crossposted on ao3)

Romcom AU: A Homecoming-styled-esque story about reconnecting to your family, overcoming anxiety, and finally being able to stand by your true self, inspired by Mitski lyrics (I glow Pink in the night, great song) and not as cheesy as it sounds, vague ending (find Part 1 Obi-Wan's POV here) and (Part 2 Anakin's POV here)

Macbeth AU:  Alias the Life and Downfall of Lord Anakin of House Skywalker, the Thane of Cawdor. As a knight’s attendant, Anakin has served his years under Count Dooku’s tutelage, becoming one of the greatest swordsmen of all time. There he also met Obi-Wan Kenobi, heir to the Scottish Throne. A tender love blossoms between them on the fighting ground, a love between swords, male sweat, crowns, and hormones. (Find here the initial idea and here the first part.)