#unless the children were born within a year or so of each other or the affair lasted years

[thanakite]

To be clear people don't generally investigate things that are PUBLIC KNOWLEDGE unless they are just confirming that it is actually true

Generally speaking though, if you are investigating something it's because it ISN'T public knowledge

[yourlocalcorviddad]

Ok but, the one poll recently reminded me of my desire for an arranged marriage Danny x Dick story.

Maybe it was an inherited one, not from Danny or Dick originally but one they both got.

Maybe the Grayson's were once friend with the Nightingale-Fentons and made a pact but the genders just never lined up, so it wasn't a 'if X from one and y from another' just if two compatible children were born at the same time-which can now be skewed to be any gender match up-but they have to be within like, 2? years of each other age wise max, the agreement-bound in magic maybe?-being stiff about that to prevent issues that way.

And Danny and Dick both find out about it at the same time-maybe when they were both 21ish?-from some lawyer family that was charged with keeping track and all?

Danny could try and see if the half-dead thing-so like, good parents and/or dead parents-could get him out of it but the observables and CW are oddly for it, and he'd never wish it on Jazz.

And Dick tries to find every out as well, even Constantine, or maybe Zantanna and Raven since their friends of his, looking at the contract and finding it's iron clad as well.

And they don't have to marry right away, just engaged and plan to marry within a decade at max, so they have time to at least get used to each other and all? No words against other partners just no divorce unless one is a threat to the other or whatever?

[darkstarofchaos]

More spoilers for EarthSpark.

Okay. Let's talk about the Chaos Terrans.

The Good

Spitfire was the only one of the two I'd seen before watching the new episodes, so I was really worried that all of the Chaos Terrains would just be Dark Versions of the existing cast. It was a relief to meet Aftermath pretty much immediately and realize not all of them are recolors.

Nice of them to explain why the Chaos Terrans were different from the regular ones.

Honestly, the bodyswapping episode might be my favorite of the batch. Which is a bit like choosing the best of the worst, but I honestly kind of like the trope, and I appreciate that it wasn't played for comedy at all. I also really appreciate that they kept the VAs matched with the bodies instead of the characters, because one of my least favorite things about bodyswap stories is when characters keep their own voices. The VAs also did a really good job of playing each other's characters, even if the dialogue itself was painful at times.

Aftermath immediately adopting Spitfire as his sister was cute.

I liked Spitfire initially. She was a bit young to be so apathetic (girl, you've been alive for five minutes, where's your joie de vivre?), but compared to Aftermath just wanting to destroy stuff, it was a relief that not all of the Chaos Terrans were going to be like that.

The Bad

The moment Twitch got chosen to go on a mission, I knew Spitfire was going to be jealous and that was going to define her character from then on. And then she started going on about being superior to Twitch, and yup. Just a standard Dark Version with a superiority complex. Again, you have been alive for five minutes, you shouldn't even have a frame of reference to understand superlatives yet.

On that note, love how the Chaos Terrans just pop into existence and know things instantly. And can scan an altmode and transform within seconds of coming online, while the regular Terrans took days, weeks, or months to even figure out what they wanted to be. Glad we're chucking the worldbuilding in the trash along with the characterization.

Seriously, though, what is it about the Chaos Terrans that makes them just understand everything the moment they come alive? I can accept it from shows like G1 where new bots were built and programmed, but the Terrans are birthed spontaneously and have no knowledge whatsoever. I could kind of overlook how quickly the triplets went from zero to sixty because the plot needed them to catch on fast, but these kids just start at sixty. I hate it when characters with literally two seconds' worth of experience are just instantly able to hold conversations about things they've never even heard of.

Why, exactly, did Spitfire have to scan the drone? Even if she was too heavy for Twitch to carry, Twitch could have just caught her and slowed their fall enough to land safely. They had plenty of time. This entire "I'm you but better" thing was completely avoidable (unless Spitfire chose to scan the drone afterward, but at least then Twitch wouldn't have brought the misery on herself).

How did the cast manage to go a year collecting shards before a Chaos Terran happened? If high velocity and water are all it takes, how did none of the shards land in bodies of water immediately after the Emberstone was originally shattered? How did most of them not end up in the ocean? These things should have done like Lilo and Stitch and spawned aliens everywhere.

The Ugly

Wow. We're really doing the Evil From Birth thing, aren't we. Really doing the "they can't be redeemed because they were born bad" thing, huh. Congratulations, that might be the single most irresponsible message you can put in children's media. Nothing says "some people are born different and that's not okay" like making a pair of literal children irredeemable because of the circumstances of their birth.

I hate the fact that I knew Aftermath was going to die almost as soon as he was born. I mean, the shard was in his spark, there was no way anyone was fixing the Emberstone without removing it somehow. Same with Spitfire. Yeah, let's not only make them evil from birth, let's kill them because of the thing that made them different. Let's doom them from birth to have their organs harvested. Forget the mutated creatures, psychological violations, and all the other horrors going on in EarthSpark, this might be the darkest thing that's happened in this series. Y'know, that and the pair of them being slaughtered onscreen.

What was the point in them even existing. What lasting impact did they leave on the series, apart from being Starscream's moral event horizon. Unless the writing gets way better in the next batch of episodes, no one is going to miss them. No one came away meaningfully changed from having known them. And of course, the Emberstone is dust now, so their deaths didn't even matter ten minutes later. They died for nothing, and I would be surprised if they even come up again outside of condemning Starscream for his actions.

I didn't even like the Chaos Terrans as characters, and I feel so bad for them.

[greetingfromthedead]

Shepherd Story 1 (God!Knives x GN!Reader)

Plot: In a world where fallen gods live among you, there is the god of winter and death who leaves behind merciless blizzards and famine wherever he goes on his eternal search for his other half he fell for many millennia ago.

Series: Shepherd. Check out Story 2 (smut) and Story 3!

Pairing: God!Knives x GN!Reader

Raiting: Teen and up (some mild sexual/intimate content, no smut)

Tags: fantasy AU, no use of "y/n", gods, feathery plant, fated love, romance, legends, nature magic, reunion, intimacy, possessive behavior, tenderness, some fluff, body worship, implied smut

Word count: 4.2k

Author's Note: This story is heavily inspired by the incredible @triplesilverstar's god AU stories A so called God on a mountain top? Well, better then freezing to death and So its a tradition? Weird. These stories are just way too good for you to not go read them. So gogogo (unless you are underage or not into smut)...

In a world much different from our own, where fallen gods live among people, there is a story that spans over many millennia. In that world, there are countless higher beings, each with their own unique powers and abilities. They guide nature in the endless cycle of creation and destruction. Among them is a man more feared and despised than the rest, known as the god of winter and death. His icy touch is said to bring misery and despair to all who encounter him. None can escape his chilling grasp, as the harsh winters can last for years on end. Children are born within his icy domain; they live and die, never knowing the warmth of summer. But only a few know the curse put on this world by the jealous gods of ancient times.

The god of winter and death roams solemnly through the lands, bringing icy winds and blizzards in his wake. The soft steps of his bare feet on grassy fields spread frost, and the lakes get covered in ice as he passes by. He doesn't bring famine and illness, but they follow him like a shadow as he moves south on his endless search. This world has never seen a winter like this before; it has lasted for fifty years and brought the northern lands to their knees. Grain stores are empty, and people are starving. Yet the god moves further and further south with each passing day, leaving death in his wake. He is still looking, searching for the one who bears the curse.

Restlessness has sunken its claws into you as of late. It's like something's tugging at your soul. You have always felt lucky that you were born quite far in the south, away from the dark shadows of the north. You are a winter child, and never in your years have you seen the bountiful summers the elders speak of. However, you haven't been plagued by winter's chill either, and for that, you are grateful. But as of late, your dreams have frozen over, set against a backdrop of white fields and icy winds. You feel it seeping into your waking hours; the breeze hasn't been gentle for weeks; instead, it cuts like knives into your flesh, leaving you shivering.

The fire roars in your little house, but its warmth can't chase away the chill in your bones. You wrap yourself tighter in blankets, trying to hold onto the last bit of heat before the darkness of night takes over. You count the herbs in your collection; you need to make sure you have as much stock as possible if winter indeed is to claim your little corner of the world too. You know you can't afford to run out; you are the herbalist that the entire nearby village relies on for healing remedies. As you put away the jars of dried leaves, you wonder if you can sleep tonight or will you be tortured again by the dangerous desire luring you into the night.

The flickering light of the fireplace seems to dim, the dancing of the light more lazy, barely reaching your feet, let alone your workbench. You shiver, feeling a chill run down your spine as the shadows in the room grow darker and more sinister. You turn around to inspect whether you need to add more logs to the dwindling fire, but your attention is grabbed by the window to your side. Icy flowers begin to form on the glass, their sharp angles glistening in the fading rays of the day.

Are these the last remnants of your blissful life? You wonder how long it will take for the cold to overtake the countryside and turn it into an icy wasteland. How many people will die, and will you ever see summer? You shake your head, trying to dispel the dark thoughts, and raise your gaze over the forming ice, as beautiful as it might be. You look at the grassy field and see glittering snow start to descend from the sky. While frost isn't all that uncommon, you've never seen it snow quite like this. The delicate flakes twirl and dance in the air, casting a magical spell over the landscape. You're in awe, and rush to the door, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter before stepping outside into the freezing twilight. The air is so still, not even a whisper of wind dares disturb the enchanting scene, like nature itself is holding its breath in anticipation. The soft flakes brush against your cheeks, melting on contact and leaving a cold, damp feeling on your skin. You try to imagine your home being transformed into a winter wonderland, with snow covering every surface in sight. You know you should fear that image more than anything else, but there's a strange sense of peace that comes with it.

You glance over your little yard to the edge of the forest, and there you see a figure. Your eyes are caught by his icy gaze, and you can't see anything else beside his piercing blue irises. You feel a chill run along your spine, but not from the cold, but from the kind of terror you would feel while staring down a wild wolf.

"I found you at last, my sweet darling." The nearly emotionless words of the god of winter and death carry over the silent landscape, echoing in your ears like a haunting melody. The coldness in his face softens slightly, replaced by something akin to a gentle smile.

You are too stunned to speak or move; the knowledge of who you've come across freezes you in place. But it isn't all fear that has made your legs so heavy; the restlessness of your soul is rearing its head again, calling out to the unknown like it's an old friend. You stay quiet as you look into the eyes of the god before you, feeling a sense of both terror and excitement. He turns toward you and steps closer. Your eyes are released from the shackles of his gaze. As you look at the rest of the figure, you see the mass of wings behind him. They aren't made up of feathers, but of shards of ice that reflect the light in a dazzling display. His body is clad in a flowy white robe, partially revealing his pale skin, some of it covered by the icy shards, the same as the wings. His hair and eyelashes look like they are frosted over due to the cold that emanates from his very being. He is breathtaking as he approaches you, his bare feet make no sound as he walks along the path. The blades of grass freeze in his presence, the puddle of water forms jagged crystals on its surface like razors.

"It has been too long, my dear," he whispers, his voice low and level, the sound crossing the empty space between you effortlessly to caress your ears.

His expression is tender yet filled with a cold intensity. This is not how you imagined such an infamous god to look at a mortal being like yourself. His eyes seem to pierce your very soul, making you feel both terrified and strangely alive.

With every step he takes, the surrounding air gets colder. Every inhale stings your lungs, every exhale produces a white cloud. Your fingers grip the blanket tighter. You can't shake the feeling that he knows something about you that you don't. His eyes have never left your face as he finally stops at your doorstep.

"I am sorry for being so impossibly late," he says, holding out a hand to you, palm up. His voice has a cold edge to it.

"Am I going to die?" The words slip over your lips before you even realize you've spoken them.

"One day, darling, but hopefully not any time soon. I cannot bear to lose you again." A slight smile flickers on the corners of his lips. "Take my hand."

"What do you mean? What do you want from me?" You know you should be afraid of him, but your soul tells you to place your hand in his.

"You will remember, sweet Shepherd." He waits patiently. "Take my hand."

"I'm not a shepherd; I'm a herbalist. You must have confused me with someone else." Saying a god is wrong seems like a surefire way to die, yet you do it anyway. Your reaction paints a slightly more obvious smile on his face as he looks at you through his low eyebrows with amusement. Your heart tells you to reach for his fingers.

"I will recognize you in any life, with any face. I will always find you, as your soul calls out to me. Take my hand." His piercing blue eyes look into yours, and you know that he is the source of your restless nights. You take a deep breath and finally allow yourself to surrender to your heart and soul. Your right hand lets go of the blanket and reaches out into the freezing night air to rest on his open palm. His skin feels like marble against yours, but his touch is comforting and familiar.

"Wake up, my love." His words echo in your mind as you realize the meaning behind them. Hundreds of previous lives come flooding back to you with a sense of recognition and understanding.

"Nai!" Your eyes open wide as you remember who he truly is, "You found me!" The cycle of reincarnation finally feels familiar once again.

He shifts closer, leaning his cold forehead against yours, your hand pressed against his chest.

"Do you still have it?" he asks softly.

"Of course I do; it's been with me all this time," you reply as you shut your eyes. His cold fingers squeeze yours tighter, and he lifts his forehead, replacing it with his lips. A gentle kiss on your skin as his free hand caresses your cheek. You would be shivering if it weren't for the fire lit up inside you.

"Thank you, sweet Shepherd," he says, placing his cheek against yours as he speaks by your ear. "For keeping it safe all this time."

"It is yours after all," you say, keeping your eyes closed, savoring the moment.

"No, sweetling, it is yours," he replies, his voice warm and comforting. He doesn't quite sound like a god of winter and death, one that brings merciless cold and darkness wherever he goes. Instead, he is the guardian and lover of all your past lives, reaching back to the ancient times before you were cast out from the Higher Plane. He is the one who cradles you in his arms and whispers promises of love eternal. The freezing stares are saved for everyone else but you, for you are his chosen one.

"Why don't you come inside?" You smile as you turn your head slightly towards him, feeling the frigid air of his breath against your ear.

"I doubt I would make it through the door," his silky voice chuckles softly. "I've been searching for so long, I fear I myself have frozen."

You can see his massive, crystalline wings over his shoulder. It has never gone on so long that he himself starts to freeze as well. His body feels more rigid, and the softness of his flesh has turned to ice.

"I can fix that, my love," you say softly, reaching out to touch his frozen skin with warmth in your fingertips. The blanket that you released slides off your shoulders, exposing the goosebumps on your skin. The cold air bites at your uncovered flesh, but you don't mind; you are in love with winter. Your fingers slide along his jaw, turning his face toward you. Your breath escapes you as a white vapor before you close the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours.

The kiss you share is deep, filled with a kind of longing that has been building up for many thousands of years. You feel his body warm up; the coldness of his skin no longer cuts you like knives; and your fingers get to press into the suppleness of his cheek. The quiet air is filled with a sound reminding you of delicate glass breaking. His hand that has been tracing the curve of your neck moves down to rest on the small of your back and pulls you closer, flush against his body. You feel his feathers brush against your skin as he wraps you up in his numerous wings, enveloping you in his embrace, protecting you from the frost he brings to the rest of the world.

You pull back to admire the sight you know you will find—the glowing markings etched into his eyes and skin, the pattern traveling along his body, gracing his face, and decorating his arms with intricate designs that seem to come alive in the dim light of nightfall. He is still pressing your hand against his chest, where you can start to feel the steady beat of his heart, a rhythm that matches the intensity of your own.

The frost in his hair is gone, his skin taking on a tone of warmth, a blush of cold darkening his cheeks and the tip of his nose. The marks still linger on him, pulsing lightly, and you are mesmerized by the blue eyes that no longer remind you of a dangerous beast but of a soul who carries too many burdens.

You lead him into the warmth of your cottage, but with every step he takes, the fire flickers, threatening to die down completely. A kind of darkness and cold emanate from him, yet it doesn't touch you anymore. His hand in yours is warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the atmosphere around him. You refuse to let it bother you as your heart is set ablaze. His hand slides out of yours and he takes a longer step forward to be right beside you. His hand moves onto your back, and with gentle pressure, he guides you to the seat by the window, where the silvery moonlight starts to creep in. With a rustle of feathers, he spreads his wings before sitting down on the soft cushion, pulling you with him. Not once has he averted his eyes, looking at you like you're a treasure of priceless value. The hand not resting on your lower back caresses up your arm, sending shivers through your body. This seems to amuse him as you see the curve of his lips in the dim light. You settle more comfortably into his lap, and his wings fold and reach over to you like a soft blanket.

"Tell me, Shepherd, do you remember it all now?" His knuckles brush gently over your cheek.

"I have lived so many mortal lives that I can hardly keep them all straight, so I'm still piecing it together." You rest your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "But I remember you in all of them, one way or another. Why do you keep calling me Shepherd, love?"

"I don't mean to be impatient with you, but I've been waiting to find you for so very long. I can call you by your new name if you would like me to." His fingers trace along your jaw and lips as he speaks. "But you are the Shepherd. My other half. I may be the god of death, but I need you to guide the souls of the deceased into the afterlife so they can be born again."

"What?" Your eyebrows move closer together in confusion. He takes your hand out of your lap to place kisses on your knuckles.

"I meant to find you sooner, my love. This winter was never meant to last so long. But it is over now. We are reunited. I have made you a lot of work. I am sorry. Some of these souls have been waiting for 50 years to move on. I reaped them from their earthly existence, I brought death, and now they need you so my brother can bring them life once again. To offer them a new beginning in spring so that my sister can fill them up with the joy of summer. Don't you remember?"

His eyes are solemn as they look into yours. Deep regret plagues them—a kind of hurt you don't remember seeing in them before. The pain is clearly etched in every line of his face.

"I will. Just keep holding me, and it will come back; it always has." You squeeze his fingers tightly, and his lips move to your wrist, brushing against your skin.

"You can ask me anything you want, love." His piercing eyes look into yours as he measures your forearm with his kisses. "Perhaps it will help."

"Your brother—he lives on a mountain, right?" You watch him carefully. "Why do you have to roam around and not him?"

"Because people don't pray for winter and only the desperate hope for death," he replies softly. His lips trail to your shoulder, and you can't see his eyes anymore. "But even if I had the power to dictate winter and death from just one little corner of the world, I still need you to put an end to it. I do not wish to turn this world into a wasteland because you still live in it. You alone can rein in the northern winds and calm the raging blizzards, for I only love you. You alone."

You feel his sharp teeth brush against the skin of your neck, and you lean back, letting out a deep sigh as you enjoy his touch. Your hand that's been resting on his chest moves to his head, your fingers lacing into his hair. You close your eyes and savor the moment, knowing that you are completely captivated by him.

"Why must gods be so cruel and jealous? To not only curse us but the whole world with it. All that because you gave your heart to me. How spiteful, they cannot kill me, so they force me into a mortal body to ensure I'm a slave to reincarnation until the end of time." Your quiet voice fills the room as you feel his mouth move to your ear.

"And I would wage another war and fall all over again just to rectify it," he whispers into your ear. "You just say the word, my sweetest love, and I will fight for an eternity, I will lay waste to everything. Until then, I will keep searching for you in each and every one of your lives."

His hand on your back pulls you tighter, and the cocoon of feathers surrounding you rustles softly as his breath gets heavy against your skin. His lips trail along your cheek until they reach yours. He moves softly, capturing your mouth with a gentle kiss that speaks of promises fulfilled and passion unleashed.

"You are so breathtakingly gorgeous," he whispers, his voice filled with love and desire, barely moving away from your lips. "No god of beauty could ever compare to you. To think you are mine... all mine."

You lean into him as his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, knowing that this love has not dwindled over the passing millennia. Your souls date back to a time before this world was created, in the Higher Plane, among other gods, you had found each other, and now, in this mortal realm, your devotion continues to burn just as brightly. His hands trace along the curves of your body, exploring every dip and valley with a hunger that matches your own. The kisses of the winter god burn on your neck as his face presses into your skin. You lean back as his fingers undo the buttons on your blouse. The fabric falls away, revealing your bare chest as his lips map every inch of it.

"Open your eyes, my darling, look at me." You hear his insistent voice as a gap forms between your bodies, "I have been waiting for too long to see them glimmer in the moonlight, for they hold all that my soul yearns for."

The god of winter and death spends most of the night worshiping your mortal body. He kisses every mark and freckle that adorn your skin like stars. He whispers poems of adoration against the scars time has etched into you. He declares his unyielding love for you in every way two people can. He leaves trails of fire in his wake that burn with his passion. Every inch of your body is a canvas for him to paint upon. His love leaves marks where his teeth have been and where his lips have lingered. His desire leaves bruises on your skin, but you know he takes care not to break your human body.

You lay in his embrace, surrounded by the massive wings that shield you from the cold he brought with him into your home. Your fingers trace patterns into his skin, your body is exhausted, but you know that dawn is creeping ever closer and the time for him to leave is near. Your eyes remain on him as he strokes along your tingling skin. His sharp gaze catches yours.

"You're staring," you say with both amusement and slight awkwardness.

"I can't help it, you're beautiful." His low voice caresses your ears.

"Why must you leave?" The words escape you.

"Because I'm the god of winter and death, my passing alone brings calamity, I cannot linger for long," he says mournfully.

"Then can't I come with you?" You say hopefully, a glimmer appears in your eyes.

"Alas, you are chained to a mortal body, and I reside in the north, far beyond human settlements, where only demons roam the dead forests. Even if my presence alone wouldn't kill you, the merciless nature of my frozen hell would. It's no place for someone as precious as you, my sweetling." You feel a slight chuckle ripple in his body. "Yet every time you wake, you ask me that same question."

"Then when will you return?" Your voice gets quieter as you see the darkness behind your window retreat.

"An army of war gods wouldn't be able to keep us apart. They tried." His voice is soft, and he touches your cheek. "I will come back once it's my turn again, the year will be guided through its seasons, and now I know where to find you. Until my return, guide the ones I have reaped back into the circle of life, sweet Shepherd. Guide them well until we meet again."

"I hope it won't be this long again, for our sake and theirs. I don't want the humans to fear you as much as they do."

"I too wish to be apart from you for as little time as possible, yet I will engulf this world in eternal winter if it means I can return to you." His voice has a sharpness to it, his words are both a promise and a threat. "Their fear means nothing to me compared to your love."

Dawn arrives too soon, the first rays of light brushing the tops of the trees acting as a warning. Your time has run out, and your fated love must bid you farewell. His touch lingers longer, the fingers tracing the outline of your face as if etching it into his memory for eternity. His stern eyes can't hide the tender look of adoration they hold for you. His lips press against yours as the layers of wings peel away from you. Before the coolness of the outside air reaches you again, your love drapes a blanket around you, never breaking away from the kiss.

You want to reach out to him, but his long fingers catch your wrists into his grasp. He holds on tight, gripping your hands with his. He pulls away slightly and places a kiss on your cheek.

"I love you, my darling," his voice whispers in your ear. You feel another firm press of his lips on your forehead. "Keep it safe for me."

"Your heart is always safe with me. I will guard it, and I will warm it when you come again." You smile as you look up into his piercing blue eyes. "I love you in every life I live."

He releases your hands, his fingers lightly brushing your chin, before he turns to leave. He steps away from your door into the snow covered yard. His majestic wings unfurl into the still air, each feather seemingly stretching out.

"Until I see you again, my sweet Shepherd!" He doesn't show you his face, but you hear the warm smile in his voice.

"Until then, darling!"

The god's quiet footsteps lead him towards the forest again. The bare feet don't make a single noise, and the white robe emits only the slightest rustle. He might be leaving, but the world itself seems fundamentally different to you than it did yesterday. Even as he disappeared, leaving snow and ice behind and a coolness in your chambers, the dawn that came brought new colors with it you had never seen before in this lifetime.

This was originally going to be smut, but I got carried away and then it didn't seem right anymore. If my brainrot doesn't pack its bags in the next few days then I might make a part 2 that follows the original plan...

There is now a smutty Part 2.

And even a 3rd installment.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

[luna-writes-stuff]

Promises, Ahsoka Tano

Song link

Fanfic, fem! reader

Reunion fic, resolved angst.

Word count: 3291

Tw: This is inaccurate because the sapphics would never be so oblivious and patient. So much pining and heartbreak. Slow burn but make it one fic. Mentions/descriptions of injuries, battle and the aftermath of a war. Probably inaccurate timelines even though I’ve been a Star Wars fan for over a decade. All these series are messing with me.

Summary: You and Ahsoka knew each other since you were both younglings and traveled with each other for a long time after order 66. But when something happens one night, you part suddenly. Now, a small amount of years later, she comes to seek you out.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Two hearts that shouldn't talk to each other become close In a town much like a prison cell.”

When one thinks about the aftermath of war, they’ll often recount the lives lost. Who won and who lost, and what was won and what was lost? How will the new society function? One thing that often gets forgotten are the survivors, more specifically those who cannot partake in whatever role the world has to offer them yet.

After the Empire was destroyed, thousands of children lost their families, lost their reputation- lost everything, but they weren’t old enough to help restore anything. They were left behind, forced to pick up their broken pieces together.

With the old rebellion, you had established a camp on Coruscant, giving shelter to those who had lost everything. You gave them a roof, food and schooling. Something to help them when they were old enough to go out on their own.

Coruscant had been the centre planet of the Empire, and there were many out there who believed everyone kept alive there were Empire sympathisers, when in fact the opposite was true.

“People speak our names on the street in hushed tones. Oh, the stories they'd tell if anyone would listen. If anyone would listen.”

The camp had been built in the old Jedi temple, where none really dared to enter again. It offered enough space and enough freedom for the children, regardless of the bad memories it might have brought you. Though the emperor had turned the temple into his own palace, there were hidden places still intact. You would come there often to simply sit and think.

You hadn’t even been a full adult when order 66 was issued, still serving as a padawan under your Jedi master. After the fall, you had left everything you had learned there - in the desolate Jedi temple where you had once swore to keep the peace and maintain the balance of the force.

Every time you sat there, you recounted your action, your memories. Everyone you knew and everything you had learned. Your saber had been long buried. Your aid in the rebellion laid within the medics, helping those who had already fallen. It was a good alternative for you. You saved lives of those already deemed dead, and helped the rebellion remain strong. That had been your strength. And once peace was restored, you knew your job was far from over yet. There were still many out there who needed your help.

“You come from a town where people don't bother saying "Hello" Unless somebody's born or dies.”

It had been ten weeks since you set up camp here, and the bond between you, those you worked with, and the children had grown incredibly strong over time. Regardless of the number of people in the temple, you knew all their names and got along with all of them. When you weren’t teaching the children, you occupied yourself in the med bay, though most injuries now extended to scraped knees and bruised skin. In your free hours, you’d run outside with the children, even offering some a handful of defence classes to keep their guard up.

At the end of the day, you’d always find yourself back in that small hall that had remained untouched by the empire. The walls still their marbled gold with white floors, though they were long from polished and shining now.

A month ago a young boy had been practising with a stick, claiming he wanted to one day wield a lightsaber. You knew he had been force-sensitive, but you were reluctant to teach him. Sure, you kept up with your abilities from time to time, but you hadn’t held a saber in years. You couldn’t teach him what you knew, because you simply knew too little. But he was adamant - and surprisingly skilled as well. Thus, you decided to practise your wielding skills again. But now, with a steel pole, roughly the size of a regular blade. It was heavier than usual, but it would work for you.

“And I come from a place where they drag your hopes through the mud. Because their own dreams are all dying.”

You had been practising for weeks, but it was hard when there was no teacher. You were struggling with your footwork when you were suddenly highly aware that you were being watched. You spun around gently, suspecting a child had followed you here, but you were proved the opposite when a familiar voice sounded: “Your footwork is sloppy.”

Turning around the corner, you were faced with a figure that caused your breath to simply remain stuck in your throat for a second.

“Ahsoka,” you breathed, dropping the pile immediately before running up to her, wrapping her in a hug. She was keen to return the gesture, a happy chuckle leaving her as her arms wrapped around your body. “Maker, it’s been so long.”

When you parted, she looked at you with a smile. She had aged, but so had you. She looked more mature, yet that childlike glint was still so visible in her eyes. She looked good.

“And when we walk down the street The wind sings our names in rebel songs.”

“I’ve heard of what you’ve done,” she hummed. “You did good.” You sighed at her words, somewhat grateful for her words, even though you didn’t need them. In your head, you were just happy she was standing in front of you, fully alive. You hadn’t heard from her since the two of you parted, and the silence had been killing you every single day.

“I was worried you had been lost in the war.” You voiced aloud, a remark that caused her smile to broaden just a little bit. “I’m fine,” She assured, nodding her head slightly. “You look good, too.”

Though the words brought just a little heat to your cheeks, you tried to shake it off, teasing her as you twirled your hair. “No grey hairs yet?” You asked rhetorically. “You’d think they’d begun to grow now, considering the stress these children bring me.” Ahsoka laughed at that, crossing her arms before gesturing towards the door she had just came from.

“It’s an admirable thing, taking care of those who are forgotten.” She mused, her face falling slightly. She knew how difficult it had been for children after the war. “Yes, well…” you trailed off. “We used to be a part of them.”

“The sounds of the night should make us anxious. But it's much too late when the fear is gone.”

Silence struck the pair of you as your words laid heavy on your mind. After order 66, you and Ahsoka had been alone, still children, though older. Everything had relied on those around you, but with the gone, the universe had seemed bigger than ever. Where you and Ahsoka still had each other, these children didn’t have anyone. You weren’t going to let them wallow in their own misery, and you - luckily - hadn’t been the only one who refused to let that happen.

“Don’t misunderstand,” you began, breaking the silence. “I am happy you are here, but why?” The togruta seemed to think about that for a short second, though the answer came quickly: “I came here to seek you out.”

Deep dread immediately settled into your system. Usually, when someone would come along, claiming to ‘seek you out’, something had been terribly wrong, or your help was needed for something of grave importance. You couldn’t help but feel slightly panicked at the revelation: “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she quickly denied, as if sensing your stress. “No; I feared there might be, but there isn’t.” The small amount of new adenine in your body slowly died down, confusion now settling in: “What do you mean?”

“I will meet you in the Next Life, I promise you. Where we can be together, I promise you.”

“A few rotations before the falling of the empire, I lost contact with the rebellion.” Ahsoka confessed, rubbing her upper arm in discomfort. “I didn’t know if you were safe.”

Part of you was flattered - happy that she was checking up on you. Even after you went your separate ways, she still wanted to make sure you were safe. However, you never realised she had been doing this, which left part of you even more confused: “You checked on me?” She merely shrugged at your words, even though her facial expression showed slight sympathy. “We went different paths, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care.”

A heavy sigh came from you, trying to repress the memory of how you two left. That was something you didn’t wish to discuss. But the disappointment was still very clear in your words: “You could have called me.” You mumbled, your voice hurt, but not accusing.

Ahsoka formed her lips in a thin line at your words, lost sentiment lingering on them. “I was being hunted,” she defended with a gently voice. “I didn’t want to risk dragging you down with me.”

“I will wait till then in Heaven, I promise you. I promise, I promise.”

When you didn’t respond to it, other than the empathic smile on your lips, she continued: “I heard about this place only days ago. Figured it was worth a look.”

You didn’t have it in you to get mad at her. You had been concerned about her for months now - arguing be damned. It was pointless anyway. If there was anything you had been feeling, it was relief. Anger would be forced, and not only did you refuse to show it as an obvious consequence of your training, it simply wasn’t worth the energy now.

“Well, I am glad you were worried about me.” You confessed. “I’ve been worried about you too. Only, I had no way of checking up on you.” She hissed slightly at the words, humour laced within her tone: “I’m sorry.” “No, it’s okay,” you deny, even though the words kind of hurt. “I understand.” Considering the way we split.

You didn’t say those last words. They were just painful reminders in your head. “I’m just glad you’re still alive.” “Yes…” Ahsoka lightly trailed off, somehow knowing the words that had been going on in your mind. You didn’t linger on it.

“Will you stay here? At least for the night?” The sun had already begun to set, and dinner had long been served. In truth, you were ready to turn to bed after your ‘training’.

She seemed to hesitate to answer, but gave in after seeing your pleading face, another gentle smile tugging on her lips.

“For the night.”

“There's so many fighting to get past the Pearly Gates, But nobody ever wants to die or get saved.”

The last time you saw her must have been a little over a year ago. Since order 66, you had been travelling together, taking comfort in the mere company of each other. Growing up in the Jedi temple and groaning together had strengthened your bond significantly, but it was after the empire had risen that either of you began to realise that there might have been more than friendship there.

None of you ever dared to act on it, still convinced of the Jedi ways. It took years for that to fade, and even after that, the reluctance had been clear between the both of you. It didn’t help that neither of you dared to show it. It made the impression of unrequited feelings much stronger than they needed to be.

The last time you saw her was after you had gotten ambushed by a group of bounty hunters. Ahsoka would have usually handled them themselves, after you had gotten around with the blaster and medical supplies, but they had been too great in number. In the end, you had them cornered, and managed to get away, but this was not without a scratch.

“Their intentions aren't that good and I can smell the asphalt. That's their personal road to Hell being paved.”

“Next time I tell you to go left, you go left.” You scolded, kneeling beside the bench Ahsoka had been laying on. You had returned to your makeshift camp shortly after the attack, tending to Ahsoka’s injuries before you’d relocate. The smell of burning flesh penetrated the small tent, and the angry red mark on her side seemed to scream for attention.

“They would have killed you if it wasn’t for me.” She hissed through her teeth as you began to clean the wound, doing your best to remain gentle. “Yes,” you argued. “But now I am completely fine and you have a blaster wound in your side. The third one since we left Tattooine, might I add.”

Even though her side had been burning, the togruta still seemed to choke out a laugh, grinning at you in assurance. “That was the point.” When you didn’t return her smile, she looked at you more careful, her voice immediately taking a more concerned tone: “You’re fine, right?” “Yes.” You sighed, stopping the cleaning to look at her face. You pointed at her accusingly. “But I’m still mad at you.”

She nodded: “I deserve that.”

“And when we walk down the street The wind sings our names in rebel songs. And it's much too late when the fear is gone.”

Something within you sparked at her words, but you pushed the feeling down. You knew better than to make the best of this. If she really meant anything with it, she would have acted on it by now.

Thus, you turned back to your work, replacing the cleaning supplies with a bacta patch, gently tearing the plaster layer off of the bandage. “You make my stress levels fly out of the roof.” You muttered, not noticing the way Ahsoka’s expression softened as she read the worry on your face. She ignored the tug on her heartstrings.

“Sounds like me.” She merely hummed, squeezing her lips together as you applied the bacta patch. You rested your arms on the cot, checking for any more injuries on her body. When you found none, you shifted lightly to level with her face.

“Just… be careful next time?” You spoke, though it sounded more like a question. “And maybe listen to me for once?”

“I will meet you in the Next life, I promise you. Where we can be together, I promise you.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologised genuinely. You should have left it at that. In hindsight you never should have said anything. But something in her eyes made you want to. There was something vulnerable there and you would have been blind if you hadn’t seen it.

“Ahsoka,” you sighed. “We have lost so many things already. Don’t make me lose you too.”

She had noticed it too, that same softness. Not in her eyes, but in yours. Doubt clouded her mind. If there was a time, it was now. You were so close, so genuine, so beautiful. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as she was praying to everything out there that you hadn’t heard it. But Anakin did everything for love, and it ended him up some place she never wanted to go. She had to push it down.

“You won’t,” she joked, but went on afterwards in a more serious tone. “I’ll be more careful.”

That was all you needed to hear. You wanted to hear more - of course. But the change in her features was so apparent. She was shutting you out again. Each time you came close, this would happen. You had learned to make peace with it.

“Thank you.”

“I will wait till then in Heaven, I promise you. I promise, I promise.”

“But I might fall sometimes, you know?” She teased. “So, you still gotta patch me up.”

And just like that, that look was back. As if it had never left. It seemed more genuine now, more meaningful. You hated how hesitant you were. Maybe if you hadn’t been, you would have actually gotten somewhere. But when she shifted slightly, you could have sworn she did that just to get closer to you.

And when you leaned in, she made no effort to lean back. In fact, she seemed to come even closer. Heat was flushing towards your face as your stomach suddenly felt very light. If you wouldn’t now, when would you?

Your hand inched closer to her as your lips finally connected. It was hesitant, light - almost not there if you hadn’t seen it. But when your hand found her shoulder, she reached to clutch to it, before returning your kiss with a little more pressure, assuring you that this hadn’t been a dream. The moment you tried to turn your hand to intertwine it with hers, she suddenly pulled back, sitting up as she swallowed harshly.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have.” Ahsoka shook her head, confliction swirling through her mind. “Why did you do that?” “I’m sorry.” You apologised again, cursing yourself for the wrong social cue. “Forget it happened. Impulsive action.”

You didn’t notice the way her face fell upon those words, nor the way her lip trembled lightly. You just continued to rant: “Adrenaline rush. Makes people do crazy things they usually wouldn’t do.” And that was what broke her. Of course; It makes you do crazy things you wouldn’t usually do. Why would you?

She got up from the cot, making her way towards the exit of the tent. “Ahsoka?” You called after her. “I need to get some air.” She managed to get out. “Yeah, no, of course.” You stuttered, now crestfallen on the floor as you watched her leave. “I’ll- uh, I’ll be right here.”

That was the last time you had seen her. You had heard her take off, leaving you at your camp with just a speeder to get you to the nearest village. You lost all contact afterwards.

“I will meet you in the Next Life, I promise you. Where we can be together, I promise you. I will wait till then in Heaven, I promise you.”

The walk to her room seemed somewhat comfortable, even though the memories now came flashing back more evident than ever. You wanted to get rid of them. She seemed fine now - surely it wasn’t worth getting worked up about.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.” You spoke as you opened her door. She seemed to have notice the sudden shift while the two of you were walking, and turned to face you as she stood in her door opening: “I’m sorry if I make you nervous.” “No, it’s fine,” You shook off. “It’s been some time.”

She just nodded at that, shooting a quick glance in the room. “Thank you.” She said as she looked back at you. “For allowing me to stay here.” “Of course.” You smiled. “You don’t need to ask.”

When she didn’t respond, you turned slightly, pointing towards a door at the left end of the hall. “If there is anything, and I mean anything, that door is mine.” Then, you turned to leave, offering her a small wave. “Goodnight, Ahsoka.” “I am sorry I left.” She interrupted before you could set a step. “I shouldn’t have.”

One look was cast over your shoulder, though it wasn’t in sadness or frustration; it was a strange combination of remorse and peace: “You don’t need to justify your actions. Not to me.” “You deserve to know why.” She countered, seemingly adamant on making her point.

“Tell me about it tomorrow.” You smiled, an offer she seemed to be okay with. And with that, you continued your path.

“Goodnight, Ahsoka.”

“Goodnight.”

“I promise, I promise.”

[devilsvenom]

ANNALISE & HER FEAR OF ABANDONMENT. - to be, inevitably, updated. ft. @reidhalstead @rosexhalstead @bookedrevenge @drownholywater-kennedy @nolanxthatcher @sntsatticus & @sntslomidzes tws: abandonment, loss, death, sedation, kidnapping all mentioned

When you're born into a family like the Halstead's, a normal childhood is not something you're ever going to get. Growing up she watched her older brother and sister train, until she was finally old enough to join in. She watched them in awe, and became determined to be just as good as them if not better. Her mother and father were not ones you could go to with normal problems; they didn't coddle you when you were sick or injured, they told you that you need to be better. If you weren't feeling well mentally or you had a problem not related to hunting or training, they'd tell you to deal with it. Annalise longed for parents who cared, but she never got it. She didn't know if Reid or Rose had ever experienced that, or if it was simply last-born syndrome, but the love and care of her parents is all she wanted from a young age.

Instead, she set out to make them proud via her training. She trained as hard as she could, for as long as she could, never tapping out unless she absolutely had to ( which of course, was heavily frowned upon and her parents would not be happy ). Her feelings surrounding abandonment stemmed from the loss of parental love that she saw so many others receive as she grew up. Once her parents came home and told them Reid was dead, it spiraled.

She became terrified of losing anyone close to her, whilst simultaneously pushing away most people she was close to. Annalise not only lost her brother, she lost the permission to train which meant that she was cut off from the Brotherhood members. She was only lucky that she had a few contacts saved so that she could continue her training in secret with them. People like Book and Kennedy took her under their wing, trained her whenever they had the spare time, but in the back of her mind all she could think about is them going on a hunt and never returning; or deciding that she wasn't worth the trouble. Book became the closest thing to an actual father figure she'd ever had, losing him would have ( and still would be ) completely gut-wrenching, and despite the age difference she considered Kennedy a dear friend that she was, and still is, terrified one day won't return. She knew that Kennedy came and went, but sometimes when more time passed than usual, she would feel the panic rise within her, feeling sicker with each day that passed thinking she would never see her again.

Any time Rose left the house, she was scared out of her mind that her sister wouldn't come back. One day, that became true, just not in the way she imagined. Her older sister moved out, leaving her with the parents that had become impossibly colder after their eldest sons death. Then, she didn't know they were lying to her; now she knows, she can see it if she reflects back hard enough, but she tries not to think about those times. Her anger after then was often aimed at Rose, leading to a complete breakdown in their relationship for years, and Annalise feeling that she had been abandoned by her only remaining sibling; another person lost.

With both siblings gone, fear of abandonment and loss viciously evolved into anger and rage. Her parents had no idea how to handle that version of Annalise, the whole house feeling like a powder keg ready to explode at any given moment. She finally turned eighteen and moved out without looking back. Despite hating her parents for how they decided to raise their children, she still mourned the little relationship they had, and the relationship that she so dearly yearned for that never existed. With her parents out of her life, and her being eighteen years old, it was her choice whether she wanted to join The Brotherhood officially, and continue with her training. She did instantly, the day she turned eighteen, and continued her training with Book and Kennedy in an official capacity. She ready quickly, and soon sent out on hunts.

She used her white hot rage against those she hunted, and her deep rooted anxiety to ensure they never left anyone behind. The people lost on the way, those that were injured, fueled her fears but the thought of them being taken away by those creatures made her continue. It was the lesser of two evils, losing someone on the job than losing them because they weren't culling the herd of supernatural creatures that descended on Port Leiry.

Her first relationship was with a witch, Nikko. The relationship was so natural to Annalise at first, but they quickly became messy. It was obvious from the start to her that Nikko was self-medicating to deal with his issues; she could understand it, but she hated watching him destroy himself. Lis knew that it couldn't be easy for him, the things he had to go through and the ghosts he had to deal with, but when she tried to offer her help, fix things, it backfired often. There would be many arguments about the drug use, and as the relationship went on it became clear to Annalise that he was an addict who had absolutely zero intentions of getting help, even if it was hurting him and his loved ones.

The addiction was ultimately the reason for their break up, neither of them being able to handle the toxicity that the relationship had spiraled into. Whilst she mourned the loss of the relationship, the loss of the friendship hit harder. They barely spoke once they broke up, and if they did it was often with harsh words exchanged. Recently they had a small break through when Lis turned up at Nikko's door, after being kidnapped and having her blood taken by Nolan. She was at the point of exhaustion, and Nikko looked after her and let her stay the night. Since then, they have been distant but friendlier, with Lis even asking Nikko to cat sit when needed.

She reconnected with Nolan at around the time she turned twenty, and the world became a little less harsh. Her first healthy relationship, and, though words were never exchanged, she fell for him quite quickly. He was a lot of firsts for Annalise, including the person she lost her virginity to. Though never sure that she really believed that virginity was nothing more than a social concept designed for society to have yet another way of attempting to control women, even she had to admit that she felt the connection with him deepen because of it. Something in her brings her back to him in times of trouble, even now. A trust that perhaps shouldn't be there, but always will be.

Eventually, they ended the relationship; their morals no longer aligned. Annalise would always be a hunter, for as long as she could, and Nolan sat on the opposite side, desiring to join them. There was no big argument, no big clash of words or actions - they just both knew it couldn't continue. Despite the amicability of it all, Lis felt the loss deeply. She had never told him that she loved him, at least not that she remembered, but she had done; the loss of her first love almost tore her apart but she threw herself head first into her work as a hunter, and they came back to each other from time to time to fulfill their sexual needs and desires.

His betrayal at the masquerade hit hard, grabbing her when all hell broke loose, ready and willing to trade her to a vampire - for what, she still wasn't sure. The details were still unclear, and she didn't think she'd ever get the answer, but the vampire wouldn't take her so instead Nolan kidnapped and sedated her, draining her blood until the protections of verbena was out of her system and then drained her blood some more, she assumed to sell to vampires. Aside from the blood draining, he didn't hurt her, he looked after her, but that was when she realised that the version of Nolan she thought she knew was lost.

Meeting Ezra was a whirlwind. A predator looking for its prey, and prey that thought itself the predator. They fought until exhausted, a sort of mutual respect forming after they had survived one another. They continued meeting like that, predator and prey circling one another with an intent to kill that wasn't followed through on due to an unspoken understanding. The Lomidze was the first vampire she had met that she didn't want to kill; she enjoyed the challenge, the understanding that they would play predator and prey but not follow through on ending the others life. It soon turned into more, if she was injured after their little game he would give her his blood, and she would return the favor from her wrist only, not trusting him near her neck yet. She became addicted and fast, not only to their game but his blood. Annalise found herself craving it, craving him, seeing her with her own eyes and ensuring that, yes, he was still safe and as alive as he was getting.

She realised that she cared for his life, cared if he lived or died, and would find herself angry at the thought of anyone taking him and these little meetings away from her. At the masquerade, they met and danced with one another, staying close for a while until just before the chaos broke loose. Once she was free from her kidnapping at the hands of Nolan, and helped by Nikko, she went to their meeting place and waited for him. The conversation they had wasn't like the ones in the past, them opening up to one another. I missed you, they had exchanged, talking about a life they could have travelling the world should she be like him. But she wasn't, and one way or another, she feared she would lose him. That night, she allowed him to drink from her neck.

Just before the Halloween 2024, her brother made a surprise reappearance in her life. He hadn't died, like their parents led her and Rose to believe, not truly. He had been taken from them on the hunt and turned into a vampire. She was glad to have him back, and would be forever grateful that he wasn't actually dead, but things were understandably very different. Every conversation an argument, instead of the loving big brother she remembered. Her protector had been taken from her, and turned into a self-proclaimed monster; she refused to see him that way, but even Annalise couldn't argue that things were very different, and not the same. Despite him being back in her life, she's terrified of him leaving again and now, he's been missing for months.

However, with Reid coming back, her relationship with her sister Rose has been on the mend. Whilst Annalise still struggles with the fact that her sister left her behind in such a toxic household, she can now understand how desperately Rose had to get out of there; she knows now that you can't look after anyone until you look after yourself first. Still, she was suddenly thrown back into the thought that siblings aren't guaranteed to stay when Rose checked herself into a mental health facility, and admitted she'd had thoughts of ending her life. Annalise is scared to her very core that she'll lose her sister to something she can't kill, can't protect Rose from; herself.

With her long, convoluted history with abandonment, loss and fear it's no wonder the fear still strikes hard daily. Most of her rage comes from loss, in one form or another, and she's often acting out of fear until those walls come crumbling down and she crawls to whichever person she thinks can handle the current breakdown.

[ask-ozai]

This may offend you, sir! Kiyi is may not be your child. She is dark skin tonned. You and your children are fair. ........Unless the somehow the spirit changed the color of the baby inside Ursa's womb during her face transition..

Your question reveals that you are from the Earth Kingdom, where the majority of the inhabitants have never set foot in a school. Not even Zuko's economy minister, the blind thirteen-year-old earthbender (she doesn't know what a Monetary Base is, it's obvious why our situation is so bad. Her last order was to end poverty by printing more money and giving it to the poors. She probably doesn't even know how to read). Not to mention that people from the Earth Kingdom are famous for their segregationist and superficial beliefs, where skin color is a sign of their status. We, the citizens of the Fire Nation, on the other hand, are decent people and staunch defenders of progress and meritocracy. Someday you will wish that we had won the war.

Let me educate you with a basic biology class that children learn in the first year of the Academy.

The approximate tone of human skin is determined by a cell called melanin. The melanin receptor gene is called melanocortin. Each human being has a specific balance between melanocortin, eumelanin, and pheomelanin, not to mention the number and size of melosomes and their distribution. Not to mention everything that is subject to external factors such as the amount of sunlight each person absorbs. There are no two human beings with the same skin tone. Even the same person can have different shades throughout their life. Zuko and Azula themselves returned home a darker shade than they left, having spent so much time on their ships.

Furthermore, it would not be a unique case. Since you're from the Earth Kingdom, I will give you a local example: Lord Beifong, whom I saw in person once when I was Zuko's age, has Earth Kingdom's usual brown skin. But his illiterate daughter is paler than raw bread. A closer example is Michi, Ukano and their daughter. They both have skin a shade darker than Mai.

For example: If the Avatar and the waterbender had children, I am sure that each of them would have a unique and different color. It's basic biology.

And if all this were not enough, Kiyi's case is perfectly explained in the family. If a child is born with a color that is too different from her parents, it is probably because the parents were carriers of a recessive gene. Ursa's parents had darker skin, and it is said that my mother did too.

Kiyi's case is perfectly normal, especially within the immigrants from the colonies that we have received in recent years. I don't blame you for not knowing, because the racist ideology of the Earth Kingdom has left a very deep mark on its society. They have to learn to see beyond skin color to the only things that matter: bending and loyalty to the crown, and a basic understanding of how a calendar works to know when Ursa got pregnant. Of course Ursa is going to tell everyone that the girl is not mine. Ursa is, at her core, deeply selfish, and she would rather the girl bear the dishonor of being a bastard than admit that she was wrong.

[bottlezap]

hi i have been looking at the fallout wiki's timeline of events trying to figure out a bunch of stuff about Which OCs Could Be Around For Which Events and i think ive figured my own nonsense out but thought maybe this might be useful to someone else too so here's some things i figured out

note i have not played fallout 1 or 2 so i didnt know what to do with any of that information. i also am still pretty new to 76 so i dont have a lot to say about that either, but I have my own personal lore sorted out. ill update this later or make another post or something if i get around to figuring more out one day

anyway here's what i got. note i have dyscalculia and im doing my best so im sorry if i got a number wrong someplace this was Difficult for me lmao

The Lone Wanderer of Fallout 3 is very specifically born on July 13th, 2258, and is canonically 19 when Fallout 3 begins. im not gonna tell anyone what to do if you want to disregard canon and make your own but i personally am working within that timeframe. Shaun, in Fallout 4, would be 31 years old at this time. The Courier, of New Vegas, would also be around (for instance, mine being about 30 when New Vegas begins, she would have been 7 when the lone wanderer was born, therefore like... 26-ish when Fallout 3 begins. whatever your courier's up to a couple years before new vegas happens is when fallout 3 is going on, basically.) The Sole Survivor of Fallout 4 is in cryostasis in vault 111 at this time and cannot be involved.

The Courier is shot in Goodsprings on October 11th, 2281. No set age or any kind of canon character information seems to exist anywhere, so. your city now. it seems like they are probably at least 18, but you could write them younger if you wanted to. personally I'm placing my courier at age 30 for now. so, let's say they're born somewhere around 2250, depending. I personally have decided my courier Bonnie is descended from my 76 dweller Robin, and as the timeline works out she'd be roughly Robin's great-great-great-great-great granddaughter. At the start of fallout new vegas, the lone wanderer is now 23. The sole survivor is still in cryostasis. Shaun is 54.

The Courier is in Nevada, and the Lone Wanderer is in DC, so it's unlikely but not impossible for their paths to cross (that's a hell of a distance to travel without cars or trains or anything though). they both make some pretty big waves so it's not out of the question for them to have heard something about each other, though.

When Sole Survivor wakes up and FO4 begins, Lone Wanderer is now 29, assuming they didn't die young. It's entirely possible for their path to cross with Sole Survivor (especially given that maccready does; it's close enough to believably travel. deacon also mentions having been to capital wasteland, if he's telling the truth). The Courier could also still be alive depending on their age/life circumstances. Mine would be about 45 when Fallout 4 starts. Again, unlikely but not impossible to meet given the distance, though.

The Sole Survivor was probably born somewhere around 2047, depending on age. The game does not give you a set age, and it seems pretty flexible other than "is old enough to be married and have an infant."

Vault 76 opened in. 2076, and Reclamation Day occurs October 23, 2102 (which is 25 years later). your character is the last to leave the vault but it doesn't seem like it's been more than a year. so that means if vault 76er is 25 years old or younger, they were born in the vault, and if they are older than 25, they were one of the initial residents. since it appears the initial residents were specially chosen experts in their fields/etc there probably were no children, unless im misinterpreting that. that would mean 76er is probably about 43 at the youngest when they leave the vault if they were an initial resident. if I'm doing that math right. which I'm probably not, given my terrible, terrible lack of ability with numbers but I think it's right. anyway personally I've decided mine was born in the vault and is about 24 when fallout 76 begins.

heres what all that means re: other events and stuff in the fallout universe as far as ive been able to figure out

about factions

The Brotherhood of Steel was founded around 2082, about 5 years after the bombs. they are the oldest as far as i can tell. 76er would be in the vault at this time so wouldn't know about them until they get out (could be up to 5 years old at the time if born in the vault).

The Institute was founded in 2110, 33 years after the bombs. (depending on age/lifespan, 76er is around.)

The Minutemen form in 2180, 103 years after the bombs. they would not exist until after 76er's lifespan unless they become a ghoul or something. same for everyone after this point

The NCR started around 2186, 109 years after the bombs. so, the minutemen are older than the NCR.

The Boomers started around 2231. Shaun would be about 4 at this time.

Caesar's Legion began around 2247. Shaun would be about 20. The Courier, depending on age, could've been born around this time, so it's likely the Legion has existed for most if not all of their lifetime.

The Powder Gangers revolt and form in 2281. this is the year New Vegas begins, so the courier is whatever age they are at that time. Shaun would be 54. Lone Wanderer is 23.

real hard hitting important facts about soda

Sunset Sarsaparilla apparently was invented in 1918. that's 159 years before the bombs fell. it's older than everything else. in the fallout 4 era sunset sarsaparilla's been around for like 400 years

Vim! Pop was founded in 1931; that's 13 years after sunset sarsaparilla.

Nuka Cola is actually VERY recent by comparison; invented in 2044. Depending on age, the Sole Survivor or the 76 Dweller could have been alive at this time.

as a sidenote, while figuring all that out, I also learned that real-world Coca Cola was actually invented in 1886, which is wild. It would have been older than all the fallout sodas if it existed in the same universe. interestingly though, Moxie soda (which I'm pretty sure is what Vim! correlates to in the real world) was actually invented in 1884, so it is in fact older than coca cola, but not as dramatically as nuka and vim. sarsaparilla in the real world also dates back to the 1800s but there isn't a recognizable Brand correlation in the same way as far as i can tell. fun facts

Nuka Cola Quantum was invented the year before the bombs, and was not actually released to the public until October of 2077 - it was actually VERY new when the bombs hit. just-came-out-this-month new. sole survivor may not have even seen it before. this also means the guys who invented nukashine did it really fast and I'm not actually sure the lore works out correctly unless they had been trying to make it with other nuka variants and perfected it the second quantum came out. i dont know. the main guy was a certified nuka enthusiast though so maybe he got a hold of early test samples or something

nuka world

opened in 2050, 27 years before the day the bombs fell. so it's entirely possible the SS knew about it, or had been there at some point when it was operating. this was the information i was trying to work out that started this entire endeavor (76er could also be alive at this time depending on age).

8 years later, Dry Rock Gulch opened.

17 years after opening day, Safari Adventure opened.

22 years after opening day, Galactic Zone opened. (note nuka quantum was not yet invented when galactic zone opened. that doesn't mean anything significant it's just weird to me)

SO THIS MEANS: as of the start of fallout 4, the day the bombs fall --- NukaWorld opened 27 years ago, with NukaTown USA and Kiddie Kingdom. unclear how long the bottling plant has been there but considering nuka quantum only JUST came out, probably not very long in comparison. Dry Rock Gulch opened 19 years ago. Safari Adventure opened 10 years ago. Galactic Zone opened 5 years ago. depending on their age, sole survivor could have known about this, or been there before. if they had, depending on when they went, that's which lands would have existed at the time. do with this information as you will. shaun is less than a year old, so it is very unlikely SS ever went to nuka world with him (though could have gone with their spouse).

also porter gage and colter took it over the year before sole survivor wakes up from cryostasis

other facts

the Mr. Handy was invented in 2037, likely 10ish years before the Sole Survivor was born, depending on age. Mr. Gutsy variants weren't introduced until 2077 but I'm not sure Exactly When so it's possible SS had never seen one. they were still really new when everything happened. there was enough time for them to be hastily trained to take over the. that one fort in 76 though

The UN collapses in 2052. as of the day of the bombs, this was 25 years ago. so depending on age, SS or 76er could have been around/could potentially remember it.

the first super mutants appeared in Huntersville in 2076 - so they actually existed before the bombs. doesn't seem like this was public knowledge, but it's not impossible for SS or 76er to have heard rumors about it. News of FEV research did leak to the public in 2077 and there were worldwide protests about it, so it's likely SS ( / 76er depending on age) would know about the subject/have heard something about it. The Institute began FEV research in 2178, so. super mutants had already been around for something like 100 years before the institute started making them. sounds like fallout 1 and 2 have more super mutant lore so there's probably stuff I don't know. this is just what I'm taking from the timeline points on the wiki

Cooper Howard was famous in the years before the bombs, so it's very likely SS (/76er depending on age) would be familiar with him/could've been a fan.

Diamond City was founded in 2130, 53 years after the bombs. (depending on age/lifespan, 76er could be around)

The "Broken Mask Incident" in Diamond City happened in 2229. this is 2 years after Shaun was taken from vault 111. they took him because they needed the DNA to further their synth research, so that means the institute was able to advance their synths to the point of "indistinguishable from humans until the software fucks up" in just 2 years

Shaun would have been about 12 when Rivet City was founded (2239). would be after 76er's time unless they became a ghoul

Goodneighbor was founded the year after (2240).

it's also mentioned that DiMa kills Captain Avery in 2276 (the year before fallout 3 starts - meaning that he and Nick were already out of the Institute by this time and Acadia was already established. not sure on that timeline though

take this information as you will. here's what i used it for

----

Ruby Rockett (known at this time by her real surname now lost to time) grew up in Boston before the war.

(Other timelines, Lucas, Scorpion, Betty, Artemis, or Randy did. yea i have too many fallout 4 ocs. i haven't decided who's connected to which other timelines yet so I'm just following my one connected timeline with ruby right now.)

Nukaworld's grand opening occurred when Ruby was just a baby; she heard about the openings of the other lands over time, and always wanted to go, but never had the chance. She had been looking forward to taking Shaun there one day.

(Scorpion, Artemis, and Randy did visit NukaWorld at different times. Randy went to the Dry Rock Gulch opening and was a big Nukaworld fan. Scorpion went once, as a child, having no idea he would one day become the Raider King of the place. Artemis went to the Galaxy Zone once as an adult with her unfortunate husband, as she was interested in the exhibitions, but didn't care about and barely remembers any of the rest of the park.)

Ruby goes into cryostasis in vault 111 in 2077.

Robin, meanwhile, was born in vault 76, and is 24 when she leaves it. Her mother knew the world before the bombs, but she only ever knew life in the vault, and grew up mostly neglected by her extremely busy scientist mother who had too many important science things to do to care about the daughter she didn't really want to have in the first place. Was unknowingly pregnant when she entered 76 and never spoke of who the father was. he's probably a feral ghoul somewhere out there now

Robin spends the rest of her life out in Appalachia, potentially traveling west over time. She has a child at some point. This line continues until Rusty Sterling, her great-great-great-great grandson, is born somewhere around 2216. have not decided the chain of last names because. i dont care right now :') anyway, rusty's daughter Bonnie Sterling is born around 2247ish and grows up to become the Courier.

Star Viridian leaves Vault 101 and becomes the Lone Wanderer. fallout 3 happens. At some point after the events of fallout 3 (probably before fallout 4, but definitely not long after it) she and Butch Deloria are trapped in an old vault somewhere and endure a catastrophic nuclear explosion. Butch dies, and Star becomes a Glowing One, but retains her humanity.

Bonnie is shot in Goodsprings. Fallout new vegas happens.

In 2287, Ruby wakes up from cryostasis. Fallout 4 happens. Star is 29. Bonnie is 36.

Sometime after fallout 4, Star crosses paths with Ruby, and is reunited with the former mayor of little lamplight. MacCready never admitted to it as a kid, but he had idolized Star and Butch back then- the unlikely heroes of Capital Wasteland. Though, seeing her as a ghoul (and a glowing ghoul at that) now was a shock, and he was very sad to hear about Butch, it was still good to see her again all this time later.

By this time, Bonnie is beginning to show signs of early-stage ghoulification as well, due to recurring exposure to radiation and gradual lack of self care - she gets less and less careful, and takes on more and more radiation until she eventually becomes a ghoul, wandering the Mojave as a strange but generally benevolent cryptid, much like her great x5 grandmother once wandered the hills of Appalachia. (though robin never becomes a ghoul, she definitely also achieved cryptid status anyway).

[demonsfate]

canon divergent masterpost .

Although I mention a few points in my rules, and in their biographies, I wanted to make a post that specifically points out all major parts of my Jin that diverges from canon. Anywhere from characterization to events that transpired.

● Devil is not Jin's alter ego. He is another, completely different person. He and Jin are two souls in one physical body. [This may be something that's more unclear in canon, but this blog strictly depicts Devil as an unique individual]

● Devil has a true name that was given to him at conception by Azazel. This name is Abaddon. Which is Hebrew for destruction, It matches Azazel's intentions for Devil, which was to punish mankind and cause destruction amongst the world. Nobody else, besides Azazel and other devils, are aware of Abaddon's name unless he told them in threads.

● Jin & Devil have known each other since essentially birth, as they were both born at the same time. Devil is not an extension of Kazuya's devil. He is not his other half, he has never been with Kazuya, nor did he later possess Jin as a teenager. Devil has been with Jin since the very beginning of both their lives. Although Devil hadn't ' awakened ' until Heihachi killed Jin, Devil would sometimes appear in Jin's dreams during his childhood & up until his teen years. Thus, Jin had technically known Devil since they were children, but assumed he was an odd, specific reoccurring dream until his death awakened Devil from his slumber. [Just like in canon, devils can only awaken within the host after they endure a (near) death experience. However, on this blog, Devil has always been present, just in the back of the subconscious]

● Devil was never ' protecting ' Jin. Pre-Tekken 8, there may have been instances where Devil had protected Jin either inadvertently or intentionally, but it was never his priority nor the reason of his existence. Pre-Tekken 8 / Pre-Purified Devil was horrible to Jin, and downright traumatized him on several occasions. Whilst Devil liked Jin, he saw Jin as inferior, and treated him more as a possession (object or pet) than as an actual person. Prior Tekken 8, Devil and Jin were almost constantly fighting each other for control of the body. He was not a guardian devil, and would always pick himself over Jin.

● The Devil Gene was never a good / beneficial thing that Jin had to just ' accept ' . No, Devil was always meant to be a malevolent force that was to punish mankind. Jin was merely a host so that Devil can carry out his purpose.

● Jin is autistic. His neurodivergence is primarily why he's a ' stoic ' , simply because Jin struggles to express his own emotions. He feels deeper than his face lets on. Jin will also struggle to read other people's emotions, too. Ironically, he has an easier time reading those who are more exaggerate in their emotions.

● Devil is responsible for the war, not Jin. Devil began to grow stronger within Jin during the 5th tournament, which was Jin's reason for joining the 5th tournament - to stop Devil from consuming him completely. Ultimately, Jin failed and Devil took over the body. Believing he had ' killed ' Jin within, Devil took on Jin's appearance and identity when acquiring the Zaibatsu to gain trust among humanity, as a means to have a proper army. Devil's motivations solely were to awaken Azazel, take its power, and take over the world for his own. Any excuse of saving the world from something that will destroy it is simply a lie to gain trust and nothing more. This failed when it turned out Jin actually wasn't dead, and was able to take back the body right before Azazel's emergence out of its tomb. Because of this, Jin does not remember anything during the war, nor the people involved. (He didn't even know who Lars was until meeting him in the Middle East)

● As stated, Devil was never good. Therefore, when Jin confronted him in his mindscape during his visit in Yakushima, Devil didn't turn out to be good when Jin learned to ' accept ' the Devil gene and his ' past ' . It was another struggle for control of the body. However, Jin decided fighting wasn't going to work, and instead decided to try to save Devil's soul with the newfound power he felt deep within. This power was the power of purification that the Kazamas possess. Jin managed to successfully purify Devil, and eradicate every influence or intention Azazel had planted into Devil at conception.

● Jin always had the power of purification as the Kazamas seem to often possess. It was awakening during the 8th tournament, another reason why Jin couldn't control the devil powers anymore. Jun simply amplified his powers so that he may be strong enough to reach Angel form, with addition to Devil's help.

● Angel Jin isn't just Jin, but instead a fusion between both Jin & Devil and will have a mix of their personality traits. Angel Jin himself feels like both Jin & Devil, but also feels as if he's his own person. It's a confusing but intriguing existence for him.

● Jin still has the devil gene / Devil isn't dead. Devil didn't die during the struggle with Kazuya at the end of T8. It nearly killed him, but didn't quite. Devil was in a ' comatose ' state for weeks after the battle, but eventually resurfaced, albeit in a weaker condition. Because he's been weakened, Devil cannot give his powers to Jin. Devil is also less likely to be in control as much as he's still in a recovering state. The reason for this is because Devil has always been a primary muse on this blog and I wanted to continue writing him, and because I simply do not think Jin is free of the devil gene for a couple reasons. (Still has the mark on his arm, and was still talking to somebody in the end that clearly wasn't his mother, and nobody else was around)

● Whilst Jin accepts that Devil will always be with him, and they are much friendlier with each other / living together in peace, they're not exactly close buddies. Devil had caused a lot of trauma. To both Jin, and the entire world. It's something that isn't easily forgotten nor forgiven. They will always have a strain in their relationship because of this. Devil wishes Jin will someday view him as a close friend, but Jin doesn't see that happening in the near future.

Things that diverges from popular fanon. There are a few popular fanon takes that I simply... do not agree with. It's not much, but I'll list them here real quick.

● Yes, Jin is a virgin (by default / outside of ships). But... this doesn't mean he's a sexless guy. Jin is still very much interested in sex. He'll even talk about sex and make innuendos. Jin is not shy when it comes to sex. Sometimes, he can be very open about his sexuality, actually. Jin is a virgin due to his busy life, not because he's disinterested or because he doesn't know what sex is. Come on.

● Jin isn't good at socializing, but he isn't an introvert. Jin actually really likes making friends and deeply cares about them. There are a plethora of reasons why he didn't have many for years. The primary reason being he was scared of getting close to anyone due to the fear of Devil or his family hurting them. Jin thought it was best to push people away as to protect them. Now that Heihachi, Kazuya, and Devil are no longer of concern, Jin is very willing to hang out with his friends and make new ones. Jin also doesn't enjoy attending crowded places because they overwhelm him quickly. Jin sucks at socializing due to his quiet nature, haven't been occupied with hobbies in years, and failing to understand other people's emotions sometimes.

● Jin is a good guy, but he isn't exactly boy scout material either. Jin isn't a completely humble guy who has restraint and doesn't know what sex is and doesn't like breaking da rules. uwu. Sometimes, Jin can even be a punk. He isn't afraid to break laws if he believes they're not actually hurting anyone (see; graffiti, vandalization, illegal street fighting). Jin is quick to disrespect authority figures if he does not think they are deserving of his respect.

● Although Devil can speak in ' growls ' , he's very capable of speech. Other than when he was a kid, Devil can always speak beyond growls. Devil is a highly emotional being, therefore he may resort to growling and screaming should his emotions overwhelm him. But not only can Devil always talk, but he has a silver tongue. Devil may seem feral at times, but the intention of his creation was to manipulate both his host and humanity. He needs to be capable of proper speech to do that! That also being said, despite often seeming feral, Devil can be both domesticated & sophisticated. The latter being that he has a taste in expensive suits & material objects.

● Jin isn't as passionate about his rivalry with Hwoarang. He doesn't get as fired up or angry around Hwoarang as Hwoarang may to him. Jin actually sees Hwoarang as a friend, and won't deny it. This, of course, may differ with Hwoarang blogs. But it's generally how Jin feels.

This post is subject to change.

[heinrix]

uhh so i’ve seen a couple other people do this and i rlly wanted to lay out oz’s lore/backstory in a post so that it’s clearer lol, especially considering i allude to it in my fics a lot

general info:

Ozadius Devries (He/They), 27 years old. Levistus Tiefling, formerly Dispater Tiefling. Gay boything, he’s trans but likes to be funky with his gender sometimes Class: Oath of Conquest Paladin lvl. 12, Champion to the Lord of the Hells Stats: STR 20. DEX 8. CON 16. INT 14. WIS 10. CHA 18 Alignment & Background: Neutral good with neutral evil tendencies. Charlatan Proficiencies: Athletics (+9), Insight (+4), Deception (+8), Intimidation (+8), Persuasion (+8) Notable Features: Legacy of The Ash King (Resistance to both fire and cold damage), Boon of The Abyss (In place of radiant damage, your Divine Smites now do force damage) Weapons used: • Act One - Maul of Brutal Justice (Invoke Duel. Whispering a target’s name into the mace, if the target comes within 30 feet of you, you and the target are stuck within 30 feet of each other. You may not stray 30 feet from one another until one of you is dead. You gain advantage on attack rolls.) • Act Two - Halberd of Vigilance (Sentinel Weapon. Gain a +1 bonus to initiative rolls and Advantage on Perception Ability Checks. Adroit Reflexes. When you make an Attack Roll as a reaction, you make it with Advantage.) • Act Three - Obsidian Sword (Devour Soul. Whenever you use it to reduce a creature to 0 hit points, the sword slays the creature and devours its soul, sending it directly to the Lord of the Hells, unless it is a construct or an undead. A creature whose soul has been devoured by the Obsidian Sword can be restored to life only by a Wish spell.)

Background

Ozadius Devries grew up on the Amber Peninsula of the Exhalian Empire in a large port city, Vetalonia. He was born to a pair of tieflings, Lev (his mother) and Carrion (his father) Devries, however his parents were not eager to abandon their lives as pirates and gave Oz away to the first couple that wanted him at the ripe age of 5. Luckily for Oz, his adoptive parents, a firbolg by the name of Beric (father) and a seldarine drow, Triss (mother) truly wanted him as their son and cherished and loved him.

Growing up as a tiefling in a densely human populated city was difficult for him as the children around him would tease and bully him for his appearance.

Needless to say, Oz did not have many friends when he was a child, except for one other boy, a half-orc the same age as Oz named Astolfo. Whenever Oz was in trouble Astolfo seemed to always be there, defending Oz and beating up the older kids who picked on him until their late teens. Oz had feelings for Astolfo but never had the courage to vocalize them, though the two boys had kissed they never mentioned it as anything other than fun. But when they turned 18, Astolfo had told Oz he was leaving Vetalonia to study the arcane, chasing after this one specific warlock pact Oz knew he had been obsessed with for the past year; Oz took this as abandonment and a personal slight.

For the next four years, Oz worked at the local brothel, honing his abilities in understanding people and their wants and needs; this led to Oz becoming quite adept in manipulating people and robbing rich nobles blind with little effort. In those years of Oz trying to forget Astolfo, trying to move on, he simply couldn’t and dropped everything in his life to go find his best friend; this took Oz on an arduous journey, retracing Astolfo’s footsteps into finding access to the patron he became a part of. Through a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, Oz found out that Astolfo had died but not truly, he was in some sort of timeless pocket dimension where the warlock “patron” existed but it was not a singular patron but thousands of minds of previous warlocks who had usurped the original patrons power and now shares it with those who desire to dole out the will of the warlocks within the pocket dimension.

Oz joined this pact of innumerable minds in order to speak with Astolfo and convince him that resurrection and living a normal life with Oz was worth more than his obsession with this convoluted warlock patron.

In his travels, Oz came across a group of adventurer’s: Penny, a monster hunter in debt to local lords, Zuul, a goliath barbarian dedicated to the god of war, Akla, an orc barbarian whose sole purpose for adventuring was to gather items for a girl she had a crush on, and Sippa, a kobold tinkerer who wanted nothing but to explore the surface for the first time in his life. Oz threw his lot in with this band, seeing as his chances of survival with a group were higher than on his own. He grew, over a few weeks, to appreciate all of the weirdos that surrounded him but one thing led to another and several bad decisions were made that led to the entire group becoming wanted by the Exhalian Empire for treason; Akla had gotten physical with guards that were trying to arrest them for suspicions that they had stolen military property (to which they had), a domino effect occurred, Oz nearly died if it were not for the demon contract scroll he had swiped off of Penny the night before and so Ozadius Devries, warlock to The Legion was now oathbound to a sloth demon vying for the Throne of the Hells. A misfortunate side effect of Oz’s newfound allegiance was that Astolfo was now alive, entirely against his will, and Oz wanted nothing more than to right his wrong, to make up for what he had done to Astolfo.

After several weeks, nearly a month, of travel the group had not realized they were being followed by a vengeful group of guards from the previous city, hellbent on killing the treasonous adventurers. In the dead of night, while both Oz and Sippa were on watch, a volley of gunfire sprang upon them from the treeline, waking the rest of the camp with a start. A paladin, in his holy wroth, went after Penny, to which Oz tried his best to protect her but as a paladin himself he knew the strength of which his and this other man’s swings of the sword held. She was struck down in front of him, mercury armor of little use to her as radiant energy slashed right through it and he turned to Oz next. He fought, bloody and trading equal blows but with the help of the paladin’s friends, their whole camp was slain on that moonlit night in the wilderness. Monacco was the only reason Oz survived as he was bleeding out in the dirt, the demon stitched his wounds together, alongside the help of Sippa who had hid within the brush the entire fight. Both the tiefling and the terrified kobold ran, leaving behind their friends mangled corpses.

A day or two after their escape, Zuul was resurrected by his god and Akla was resurrected by the Fey heart she had been carrying. Penny was less fortunate but they did gain a new companion, one they had known since meeting Penny, her sentient mercury armor had consumed her corpse and grown to be able to shift into a human visage with most if not all of Penny’s memories; they called themselves Merc. Oz and Merc would go on to become quite good friends, while the rest of the group still treated Merc as if they were a tool to be used rather than someone sentient and living.

The general attitude of the group toward Merc culminated one day as they visited Sippa’s home city in hopes of resurrecting Penny via the manmade god that Sippa’s home worshiped. Once there, things went downhill, fast as Merc had run off into the city while the rest of the group went to visit the tower containing the god, Deus. Upon talking to Deus, it offered Oz the chance to ask it a question alongside the resurrection of their friend and he had been wondering something for some time at that point. “Am I Oz?” So much had changed about him: his appearance, his attitude, his morality, his goals. Was he who he had always been or was that Oz truly dead and gone. Deus answered him honestly, telling him that it is natural for people to have changed through traumatic experiences. However, Oz did not contain a soul but rather it was in the hells and he was merely puppetting his own body. This was, obviously, incredibly disconcerting to Oz and he sort of shut down, thinking of himself as a puppet all this time and that he was just the embodiment of his contract with Monacco; he didn’t possess his body, it wasn’t his nor had it been since he took that icy hand in the darkness.

In the time that Oz was having an existential crisis, Penny was resurrected and Merc had broken into the tower and attempted to consume Deus, having grown larger than the companions had ever seen them; they had been wandering all over the city eating every magic item they could find. All of the companions except for Oz began attacking Merc and Oz touched Merc - the only way to communicate with them now - and begged Merc to not consume Deus but Merc just asked Oz “why?” he had been selfish in the past many times, why couldn’t Merc, who had done so much to help the group, be selfish this one time. Oz was dumbfounded and abstained in the fight, simply holding his hand onto his friend's mercury ooze body. But hearing his friends cries of help as Merc fought back, acid and bile from their own body burning and singing his companions as they continued to consume a god, Oz stood, ripping his hand away from Merc and bringing up his maul and whispering to the magic within the weapon, “I’m sorry, Merc.” Swinging down with his hellish-backed fury, he fought a monster he called friend.

They were losing, as Merc had grown stronger and was draining Deus of its magical divinity; Oz saw this and prodded at Monacco within his mind, begging to teleport just him and Merc to the nearest portal to the hells that had been popping up since a war was waging between the surrounding empires. His patron granted this wish and soon it was just Oz and Merc, surrounded by the heat of Avernus as Oz, running low on energy continued to pummel the ooze as Merc began to consume the nearest magical artifact, Oz. He felt mercury begin to enter every orifice of his face, sliding down his throat as he gripped onto his maul, hoping against hope that each blow would be the last. The heat and brimstone stink of Avernus overwhelmed Oz as the ooze began to sink into the corners of his eyes, into his ears, and up his nose; he began to cry, welling tears pushing past wet metal as he thought of all his wrongs, all the people he had hurt. Perhaps this was deserved, this death on the edge of the material plane and the hells, alone, with only a friend to guide him back to his soul.

But the aching jaws of death had never been for Oz as he was yanked away from Merc’s grasp and shunted somewhere, somewhere foreign and sticky and smelling of thick iron.

[oni-official]

Is it... common? For someone in the UNSC to have relatives in the Innies? I know of an ODST with parents who were insurrectionists, died, and he ended up in the UNSC foster system. Does that happen a lot? Do insurrectionists really just, have no plan for what happens to their kid if they die, so the kid gets raised by their enemies instead? No wonder they're losing.

It's not something that happens often everywhere. Families tend to share similar experiences, live on the same planets and within the same systems. If there isn't a great deal of anti-UEG/anti-UNSC sentiment on a planet, this sort of split is very rare. The inverse is also true.

Where we see this sort of thing happening more often is on those planets or within those communities where the public opinion is still divided. You hear stories of siblings going their separate ways, only to meet years later, each on the "wrong" side of a raid. And, most often at that point, too far in to do anything but what they believe to be the right thing when faced with "the enemy".

The mistake a lot of people make is thinking of the Insurrection as a single entity, like the UNSC, with a clear command structure and rules. It's much more akin to a dozen separate uprisings, emboldened by one another, all vaguely united against the UEG. Leaders attempting to unify these factions have risen and fallen but, to a great extent, they function almost entirely independently of each other. And each one deals with the children of the fallen differently. Where the children are, as it were, "born into the trade", doing basic menial tasks to assist their parents (or even taking more active roles, in the case of some of the most extreme factions), they are usually "kept on" and continue as they were before, being provided for by the group.

But where the parents have kept their children entirely separated from their philosophies and activities... yes. They are of little value to the Insurrection beyond potential future recruits and, unless they are cared for out of the kindness of someone's heart, they are left behind. At this point, the best case scenario for them is that they will be entered into the foster system.

A distressingly common idea that they are raised (read. indoctrinated) within the system with the express purpose of being sent back into the fray is not true. They are free to pursue careers as they please. The UEG and UNSC take care of their own.

And children are not the enemy.

It is no secret that the Human-Covenant war has been amongst our greatest tests as a species.

But it never forced us to look our loved ones in the eyes and tell them "today, you are as different from me as we are from them."

[cfdepths]

stefanie martini, cis woman, she/they, 30 — dear all nations, MEABH MAC CARTHAIGH has crossed the city borders to edinburgh to the sound of SEASON OF THE WITCH by DONOVAN. the QUEEN of CONNACHT is known to be IN FAVOR OF making peace. SHE/THEY reminds me of A BEWITCHING SMILE, A FAMILIAR CHILL IN THE AIR  however did you know that HER HUSBAND’S PEOPLE DID NOT WANT HER TO MARRY HIM BECAUSE THEY THINK SHE’S A WITCH?

stats:

age: 30 pronouns: she/they birthday: oct 31st alignment: neutral sexuality: pansexual connections: parents (deceased), king of connacht/husband (open), ladies in waiting (open), prince/younger brother (open)

inspiration:

morgan le fay (arthurian legend), catherine de medici (historical/reign), daenerys targaryen (game of thrones)

tw: death mention

bio:

you were born the eldest child of a prince. you were almost eleven before your father was crowned upon the death of your grandfather. despite being the eldest, you would never rule on account of your sex unless something tragic were to occur. the number of brothers you had made that unlikely to occur. so you were brought up as a princess who would rule alongside a king. you were taught all the skills royal women should have: scriptures, embroidery, languages, letters, geography.

your mother wanted to ensure your wellbeing in the world. she taught you a skill. spells, potions, rituals. nothing dark in nature, only how to read signs and protect yourself. your mother told you that you must keep this knowledge hidden from your father. from the priests. they would not understand it as your brothers or the women around you would. these sorts of skills were not unheard of, she would tell you, but they were not spoken about plainly either. some places had turned away from them outright.

you practiced with your mother every day, except the sabbath. after her death when you were seventeen you practiced with the other women in your home. you said the silent prayers for her. you also followed the rituals she taught you for death. you did the same for your father when he died shortly thereafter.

your beauty and value as a princess did not go unnoticed. you had many that came to court you. the court advisors gave counsel on which suitor your younger brother should choose for you but he would always remind them that the ultimate choice would be your own. he would often tell you all about each of the suitors based on what his advisors and other men at court said about them. your mother had raised him right. had made him promise that you would have some freedom in the choice of your marriage. he had not let her down.

you had many suitors come and go. you had three betrothals come and go for various reasons, reputations and alliances among them. you had lovers in the meantime, though you kept your dalliances hidden from nearly everyone. when you were eighteen you met the man you would marry. a king from connacht. the whispers you heard of him were promising and the alliance with your land would be mutually beneficial. the few times you met him during your courtship and the letters you exchanged ensured that your personalities would align. you were married within the year.

you and your husband had a nontraditional marriage. given your statuses and your birth right to rule neither of you cared much for the reputations it garnered you. you agreed that you would each be allowed to take whichever lovers you wished, so long as lovers remained outside the realm of your political decisions. you and your husband would come together for those agreements. as far as those who were concerned knew, you were trying for an heir - though your definition of "trying" was, perhaps, not quite the same as the elderly advisors who so desired your children. as abnormal as your marriage was, it lent you much more freedom than other marriages would have.

everything was mostly pleasant until those damned vikings landed on your island. sure, they had come over before but they had hardly been successful. lately, however, they were far more interested in taking over your home. so you and your court made your way to scotland as many other courts did. it was easy enough for you to garner new friends, lovers, and allies wherever you went, scotland would be no different. you agreed to the alliances and to peace if it meant you had ways of recovering your homeland. peace never was achieved without a little violent interference, after all.

[ladylilah]

the last will and testament of one tristan tramp featuring: lilah, @ohdeare, @scamperoo, and @ellietramp

It had been a bit of a shock, finding out that Tristan’s last withstanding will hadn’t been the ones they had written together a few years after Colette had been born. Of course she knew the divorce had likely changed what all he was leaving behind and whom it may be going to – but she hadn’t suspected he would go to an entirely different law firm to create a new will rather than just updating the one he already had. But whatever - Lilah wasn’t about to give it much thought. She hardly doubted she would have anything left to her anyway, so what did it matter that it wasn’t one of her coworkers reading the will but instead a rival? This was all a formality anyway. Everyone already knew that most of his belongings would be left to the children - unless he had also written them out, but given that the last update of the will had been just a few months after the divorce she doubted that. They had all been on semi good standing back then with their father, or at least… better than where they were at when things ended.

The majority of the reading of Tristan Tramp’s last will and testament had been exactly what everyone might have suspected it would be. Certain sentimental items listed out to be left behind to his friends, Lilah’s parents, and the children. None of which was any surprise, nor was it all that exciting. With all said and done, it was turning out to be a rather uneventful night. Or at least, that was how it looked until the lawyer got to the last paragraph.

“Everything else, the rest of my belongings and any finances I leave behind shall be divided evenly amongst my children. Samuel, Danielle, Annette, and Colette Tramp,” the lawyer read outloud, pausing for just a moment as he glanced over in Lilah’s direction before his eyes returned to the page. The small action hadn’t been enough to tip her off yet that something was wrong. She had simply assumed he was surprised that her name hadn’t been written out even once. But it should have been a warning sign. Because as the man continued, it felt as if everything she thought she knew to be true about the world came to a screeching halt. “As well as my other children, of which I have never told anyone else about: Marie, Toulouse, and Berlioz Bonfamille. To these three, I apologize for never being a part of your life - but it was the agreement worked out upon between your mother and myself. In a safe within my closet I have letters for each of you as well as the pictures and notes your mother has sent me over the years. The combination is left below. I hope you know that though we never met I love you deeply and have enjoyed watching you all grow up from afar.”

There was silence for a moment as the lawyer set down the will and looked up at the family, asking if they had any questions. Which of course, everyone in the room did - though none of which the man in front of them would be able to answer. Before anyone had a chance to say anything though, Lilah was up and out of her seat, leaving the office room and entire building all together.

It took every ounce of strength out of his body, but Scamp had hardly been thinking of that the moment he stood out of his wheelchair and attempted to barge over to the desk with the lawyer to demand to read the text himself. He only took one step of each leg before nearly collapsing, instead deciding to fall back into his chair and look up at his twin, who had been standing behind him. “There’s no fucking way,” he said finally, looking to both his grandparents and then to the lawyer. Though, from his mother’s reaction of leaving the moment the news had been read, there actually was a way that this was all true. Not only had they found out that Annette was truly only their half sister, but that they had three more half siblings, all of whom should have different last names. “I’m sorry, sir, do you mind bringing that over here? I just don’t believe a word you read, and I would get up myself, but my father unfortunately shot me before he was killed,” Scamp explained bluntly, looking to his mother’s parents again with a smug smile. They were the same fuckers who had let him grow into the monster he’d become, enabling him as they failed to protect their own daughter. “Do we even know that this is real? You’re just gonna take his word for it? Shouldn’t we need to see a paternity test, a birth certificate, something, before giving these kids anything?” he asked, looking back to Danielle again.

While Lilah hadn’t told her parents the whole truth about what happened the night of Tristan’s death, she had kept in the part where he had been the one to shoot Scamp. A fact which neither of the Deares took very well, refusing to believe her. That refusal had lasted up until this moment when Scamp himself confirmed it, not only in private but in front of the lawyer as well. And even still Darlene was having trouble accepting it all. “A paternity test will absolutely be happening. We will demand it before anything is given to those strangers. I don’t believe this for a minute. Tristan would never do this,” she argued, turning to Jim as if waiting for him to back her up. But the man only frowned as he looked between his wife, his grandchildren, and the man that had just opened this all up through reading the will.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he stated, holding up his hand in Darlene’s direction as she took a step back and opened her mouth as if to argue again. The motion was enough to silence the woman, as Jim had known it would. “The Bonfamille children are his. I already had a paternity test run after they had been born, when Tristan came to tell me about them.”

Ellie had been conflicted whether or not she was attending this, but she wanted to be there alongside Scamp. If he was there, she was there, and luckily she was as there was a huge bomb dropped in the will. “What the fuck—“ Her eyes widened, watching Lilah get up and leave immediately. She couldn’t focus her attention on that though, as her brother tried to get up and see the will for himself. “Scamp, hold on,” she was quick to stop him, a breath of relief coming out when he finally sat back down. Her mouth was still dropped in shock. She thought her father had surprised her in the past with his behaviors, but this was a whole different level. She could hardly pay attention as Scamp revealed their dad shooting him in front of their grandparents; everything was out of focus and muffled, but there was one part of the conversation she heard clearly: The Bonfamille children are his. Her gaze went from Scamp, to their grandfather, and back to Scamp again. She felt like she was going to be sick. “Scamp, I-I think we should go..”

It had been the norm for Jim Jr. to be kept out of familial knowledge, it was something he’d unknowingly participated in for his entire life; So, hearing that he was unaware of yet another Tramp secret wasn’t as shocking now but the situation at hand was what really threw him for a whirlwind; It’s safe to say the rest of the family felt the same as his sister was already gone and her kids having to process the same information in this short span of time. The only positive he could find was that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know but that also seemed to be the biggest negative to the news itself, no one knew. Well— everyone except his own father, someone who Jim Jr. had a couple of words to say to, “You knew for - how long - and you didn’t think to tell anyone about this? You didn’t think everyone here deserved to know the truth?” This was the first time he’d ever felt pure disgust for his father, the man who had chosen to protect someone who wasn’t worthy of protection. He couldn’t stand to look at his dad anymore. Jim Jr. from his seat, meaning to follow in his sister’s footsteps but he couldn’t go without talking to his nieces and nephew, “Guys, I’m so sorry you found out like this.”

[dzthenerd490]

File: OC 7

SCP#: ACY

Code Name: Sarkic Daughters of the Scarlet King/ Elrin and Kasta

Object Class: Euclid/Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β are to be kept in a computer simulated holographic containment cells able to create virtual constructs of any object or organism with almost perfect accuracy. These virtual constructs can only maintain physical manifestation within the containment cell. Both SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β containment cells are separate with only two doors one leading out into Site Site-AF and the other leading to each other's rooms.

SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β containment cells are able to holographically manifest anything SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β desires. Giving them endless entertainment and no reasons to leave Site-AF.

SCP-ACY-Α is allowed to travel around Site-AF whenever she pleases so long as she avoids other SCP containment cells.

SCP-ACY-Β must never leave her containment cell unless given permission by Dr. tutela and at least five O5 council members. Afterwards SCP-ACY-Β must be escorted by at least two MTF Alpha-1 units and SCP-ACY-Α as a safety precaution. Should SCP-ACY-Β ever breach containment, Foundation security are to enter SCP-ACY-Α's containment cell and proceed with protocol "Sisters Forever" to get SCP-ACY-Β to stop her rampage.

protocol "Sisters Forever" states that SCP-ACY-Α must be used as a hostage and her life must be threatened, to get SCP-ACY-Β to fall in line and surrender. Despite her violent nature, SCP-ACY-Β still loves her sister SCP-ACY-Α, as such she is willing to surrender for her. This, combined with SCP-ACY-Α peaceful nature, and their containment cells generating whatever they want, has made containment surprisingly easy.

However, ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β are still separate entities despite being twins and thus have been given the rare instance of a dual Object classification. With ACY-Α classified as Euclid and SCP-ACY-Β classified as Keter.

Description: SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β sometimes referred to as Elrin and Kasta are twin sisters. Both currently 16 years old and the result of a sexual ritual combining Sarkicism and Scarlet King religion. SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β were born when a Sarkic woman was kidnapped by a group of Children of the Scarlet King. Being mistaken as a normal woman she was raped and tortured by traditional Scarlet Children rituals. This did cause her to be pregnant with the Scarlet King, but her Sarkic blood line interfered with the connection making it impossible for the Scarlet King to connect with the children. Therefore, though both twins are his children they have no obedience toward him.

SCP-ACY-Α is a spawn of A’HABBAT, the seventh bride of the Scarlet King. As such she is a hero who spreads joy and happiness to all life while rejecting and defeating evil, especially evil related to the Scarlet King. Therefore, even if the connection wasn't severed, she still wouldn't be under the Scarlet King's rule. SCP-ACY-Α has the ability to create flowers from her hands, out of nothing. The pollen in the flowers act as a pheromone that bring calmness and joy to whoever smells it. the pollen pheromones have even been tested and shown that prolonged exposure can cure mental illnesses as well as normally uncurable diseases like cancer and Alzheimer's. SCP-ACY-Α prefers to make her flowers into a flower crown so that people can wear them and spread the pollen wherever they go. 

Side Note: When shown a photo of SCP-999 when she was still six years old, SCP-ACY-Α looked at the photo in joy and shouted "brother!". Interaction testing between SCP-999 and SCP-ACY-Α is pending.

The flowers created by SCP-ACY-Α are classified as SCP-ACY-Α-1 due to their anomalous effects on individuals both during life and after death. As already stated, her flower crowns do spread good health and joy to those who wear them. However, a secondary effect is revealed after the individual who has worn a flower crown made by SCP-ACY-Α dies. When a living organism is exposed to SCP-ACY-Α-1 and dies right afterwards their body starts to decompose rapidly until all that is left is a collection of pastel-colored crystals. Testing has shown that people exposed to SCP-ACY-Α-1 have not biological difference to those that don’t or to themselves even before exposure. The anomalous effects are only visible after death. 

These crystals have been labeled as SCP-ACY-Α-2. SCP-ACY-Α-2 instances are bizarre in that their chemical make-up does not match any elements found on earth and when consumed taste like candy. The exact flavor of SCP-ACY-Α-2 depends on who eats it as SCP-ACY-Α-2 always simulates itself into the favorite flavor of the consumer. SCP-ACY-Α-2 also has healing properties similar if not greater to SCP-ACY-Α-1 healing effects. Such breakthrough results include limb regeneration, necrosis healing, poison healing, organ regeneration, youth revitalization, and [data expunged]. As such the medical division of the Foundation collects corpses of Foundation staff exposed to SCP-ACY-Α-1 in order to always have a ready supply of SCP-ACY-Α-2. 

Update: March 3rd, 2019 - The Ethics Committee has approved exposure of  SCP-ACY-Α-1 to D-Class when they are assigned to tasks with 100% fatality rate. 

SCP-ACY-Α's physical appearance is human with her hair being shaved cut blonde. Her skin color is black, her eyes have a glowing blue color, and she loves dressing in white. SCP-ACY-Α's always has a smile on her face, the only time she frowns is when SCP-ACY-Β harms an innocent human in front of her. The only time SCP-ACY-Α has ever cried was when [data expunged]. Like her sister SCP-ACY-Β has symbols on her body, the symbols are on her back and are like birth marks only they glow blue and tend to grow brighter when she’s happy. However, the symbols seem to resemble the same symbols found on SCP-[data expunged]. Research regarding whether this is a coincidence, or SCP-[data expunged] is actually another spawn of A’HABBAT is ongoing.

SCP-ACY-Β is a spawn of A’NUHT, the fifth bride of the Scarlet King. Thankfully with her connection severed she has no desire to destroy all life like the Scarlet King. However, unlike her sister, SCP-ACY-Β does enjoy destruction and chaos as well as brining fear and harm to innocent lives. SCP-ACY-Β typically likes tormenting those who are innocent or have done little wrong in their lives, as such she actually gets along quite well with Foundation staff. Only on rare occasions does SCP-ACY-Β actually starts attacking Foundation staff; however, as a precaution, she is to never leave her cell. On the rare occasion she does leave, she is escorted by two Mobile Task Force Alpha-1 units as well as SCP-ACY-Α, under orders of the O5 Council. 

Being a spawn of A’NUHT, SCP-ACY-Β is proficient in magic relating to darkness and destruction. Due to her violent nature and methodology of magic she likes to spawn innocent civilians in her computer simulation containment cell and spend most of her time killing and torturing the holograms. Thanks to advanced Foundation technology allowing computer simulated holograms to perfectly mimic life she’s able to find great joy in the suffering of any hologram she manifests despite knowing it's not real. Regardless of her violent nature SCP-ACY-Β does care deeply for SCP-ACY-Α and rarely ever commits violent acts around her sister.

SCP-ACY-Β physical appearance is human. she has extremely pale skin, dark brown straight hair, red glowing eyes, likes to dress in all black and like her sister never stops smiling. However, unlike SCP-ACY-Α's warm and gentle smile filled with joy SCP-ACY-Β smiles sinisterly and her grin widens to unnatural proportions when she commits great acts of violence. Surprisingly, like her sister, SCP-ACY-Β hates the Scarlet King and his children. However, her reasoning is because she wants to overthrow him rather than to stop his evil conquest of destruction. SCP-ACY-Β has only ever frowned or shown anger when people attempt to understand or sympathies with her, her most hated method of this is therapy. Like her sister, SCP-ACY-Β has symbols on her body though hers are on her face and are not glowing birth marks but instead engraved into her skin. These symbols despite being engraved into her face don’t bleed unless she’s angry. 

SCP-ACY-Β has a large array of magical spells and abilities that she uses for the sole purpose of killing and destruction. Due to her Sarkic heritage SCP-ACY-Β can use her magic to manipulate her own flesh, create curses and plagues, and gets physically stronger when she drinks blood. SCP-ACY-Β is immune to SCP-ACY-Α-1′s effect but always refuses to kill or harm anyone who is wearing a flower crown of SCP-ACY-Α-1. SCP-ACY-Α favorite form of magic is red electricity that she produces from her fingers. This lighting is able to make structures explode, burn flesh easily, as well as cause permanent nerve damage to anyone shocked.

SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β were discovered in 2007 when Mobile Task Force Delta-5 was conducting a raid on [data expunged] considered a potential base of a Children of the Scarlet King cult. However, upon entering [data expunged] all that was found was gallons of blood everywhere and both SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β crying on the floor, having just been born. Due to the symbols on their bodies, as well as being prime suspects of the slaughtering that took place, they were suspected to be spawns of one of the seven Scarlet Brides of the Scarlet King. As such they were sent to Site-[data expunged] immediately. Due to Dr. Wicked's [data expunged] he personally tested their abilities and potential allegiance to the Scarlet King. It was thanks to Dr. Wicked's tests that we know the full capabilities of SCP-ACY-Α and SCP-ACY-Β as well as the best way to contain them to minimize potential containment breaches.

Testing regarding an interaction between SCP-ACY-Α and/ or SCP-ACY-Β with SCP-682 is under consideration. As well as testing regarding SCP-049, SCP-053, SCP-073, SCP-076, SCP-079, SCP-106, SCP-AAB, SCP-AAE, and SCP-AEN.

"I'm just as curious to know the limits of these girls but that doesn't mean I agree with having this many tests on them. I just hope that if this goes too far and another SCP-3002 or worse gets made, the O5 council knows who's fault it is, because there's no way I'm [data expunged], never again!" - Dr. Wicked.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[koifishstick]

once upon a time DR - intro °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

hello! i’m fawn, your mischievous animal talent fairy straight from pixie hollow! pixie hollow is nestled within the heart of the enchanted forest, a place where faeries like me live, work, and thrive. we faeries are born from special little pods (yes, like a flower!), so I’ve always thought of my fellow faeries as my family. we stick together and look out for each other.

i’m a sprightly 222 years old, but don’t let the number fool you—faeries live way longer than humans (unless, of course, we’re taken down by some mystical force). reul ghorm, who’s like ancient history personified, is thousands of years old! i’ve had the pleasure of working with some pretty legendary faeries—tinker bell, astrid nova, and reul ghorm herself—so, you could say I’ve seen a few things in my day.

but in 1980, things got wild. one minute, I was happily fluttering around pixie hollow, minding my own business, and the next? i got yanked through a magic bean and dropped in a world that was... un-magical. yep, earth. no pixie dust. no wings. just... people.

i’d heard rumors about other worlds, but faeries are not encouraged to stray from their intended paths (tinker bell lost her wings and astrid nova lost true love, both for straying from their paths.. how lame). so, I had no idea what to expect when i landed here. turns out, not only was there no magic, but my rich and expansive history was considered children’s fantasy to these folks. i mean, seriously?

i mourned the loss of my wings, my friends, and my beautiful home in the enchanted forest... but instead of sulking, i decided to explore earth and see what it had to offer. i dove into different cultures, learned languages, and explored magical places that were completely devoid of magic. over the years, i realized that even though there’s no pixie dust, i was still aging at my fairy pace.

then, in 2011, while I was off adventuring in thailand, i met august booth. he turned out to be from the enchanted forest too! we had an instant connection, but things took a turn when he woke up to discover he was turning back into wood. he sent me off to storybrooke, to help break a curse that the evil queen regina had placed on the people of the enchanted forest. i am nervous to see my friends and family again after all these years, but i am eager to help restore the memories of my loved ones and do my part to get us all home.

so that’s my story! i’m fawn: a fairy in a world without magic, still looking for adventure, still making things happen, and still totally rocking it without wings. who says you need wings to fly, right?

[supacutiepie]

Can't quite get the same kind of gracefulness that he had in Inquisition. Like, he truly looked so king like? It's hard to copy in the new engine. Cassian just looked every part the noble leader of the inquisiton you know? Cassian 'Sprout' Trevelyan, Ostwick born Noble who was sent to the Circle at around seven after he froze his brother's hand solid and left him disabled for life. His sister, Anaïs was so outraged by this she left to join the Templars so she could keep him safe. Cas is the baby of the family, and he was very close to their mother. But magic sickness took her mind long before her body failed her. It ate her from the inside out. The same sickness may take him, but for now it's found an outlet in slowly stripping color from his body? Hard to explain, but when he manifested his magic, his hair was a dark dark burgundy like his sister. The first day his magic lashed out, it left behind the whisper of white hairs behind. It only grew from there. His magic manifests in frost and storm, during In Your Heart Shall Burn - part of the power behind the blizzard was his own incredible emotional turmoil. He leaves behind a dusting of ice everywhere he goes, learning to let his magic suffuse itself outward to keep from having it eat him alive. There's a large gap between him and his brother Maxwell, the ten years making all the difference in how they got along at seven and seventeen ha. His next oldest brother is Heron - a quiet soft-spoken man with a knack for the family orchards and keeping the lands steady. Seeing as the age gap between Heron and Maxwell is only three years, you'd think they'd get along but no. Anaïs is older than Cassian by a year. They were practically twins are small children, attached at the hip they were. Their mother, Eloise Trevelyan, often said that where Cassian was the ever changing and deep sea, then Anaïs was his steadfast fleet of ships that weathered each storm. Cassian was a quiet, sensitive boy, and his big sister was loud for the both of them. Within a week of their mother's lethal diagnosis, the stress of inheriting the Trevelyan nobility and losing his mother left Maxwell terse with everyone - but little Cassian couldn't accept his mother was dying. They got into it at dinner, and in his distraught state Cassian froze Maxwell's hand to the table, froze it pure solid. Maxwell was angry then, but moreso he was just damn sad. His mother was dying, and a week after learning so - they took his baby brother away kicking and screaming. It took a long time before they could reconcile properly. Maxwell and Heron were close for some time, but when Maxwell lost his chance at the Chevalier title - his hand too damaged to lift a pen, let alone his sword, he was angry. Heron was given the title of Lord Trevelyan, acting as the head of the noble name. their father didn't act in this way because Noah married into the Trevelyan's, not the other way around. The entire family parts ways for a long time, before the Inquisition brings them back together. Anaïs leading a troupe of Beaureguard Templars who escape the Red Templars plot - bringing them right to Cassian's door after Twenty-Five years separated.

Due to the threat throughout Thedas, Cassian had his family brought to Skyhold. His mother included. Twenty-five years after her diagnosis, her first fall and bout of sickness, Eloise was nothing like the charming and noble Senior Enchanter she'd been. One day she awoke, and her magic had simply...ceased. It sent waves through the circle, a fear many did not indulge unless the Tranquil were involved. But no, she was of full sound mind when her magic completely vanished from her grasp. Not to say it left her though, which would become her downfall. Eloise could no longer cast or exude magic. It gathered and gathered and the power grew heavier in her body until it began to tear away at her physical form. Because she couldn't cast, but she still had magic, she was allowed to return to the Trevelyan estate, but she had to have a constant Templar Guard. One of the perks of high nobility. Lady Seawright, pardon - Templar Knight, Lady Millicent Eglantine Seawright  was assigned to the Trevelyan family as a permanent guard. She was a stalwart friend to the family for many years, and when Anais was young she even trained the girl how to handle a sword. Lady Seawright joined the Trevelyan's in Skyhold, and for the first time in twenty years she got to meet Anais again. Who still held that childish crush on the older woman, something that would bloom despite the crushing weight of Corypheus and Eloise's decline... Eloise who came to Skyhold as a husk. It was painful for all to see. Cassian did not handle it well, but thankfully he had a good support system - between Cassandra keeping him strong, and Vivienne being his quiet confidant, he manage to make the decision between letting his mother slip away, or making her tranquil. The fight that decision caused was cataclysmic. But in the end, Eloise Trevelyan was surrounded by loved ones when she passed in the night. Cassian is grateful that she held one long enough to meet Cassandra, the woman that he'd fallen madly, stupidly, beautifully in love with. Cassandra sat vigil with him during his Mother's passing, quietly praying for the woman. (Her passing would not be gentle, but they found ways to ease the pain.) The running joke after the fall of Corypheus happens to be the 'Cass' title. Cassian, Cassandra, Cassiopeia, Cassidy. A horrible naming convention but one they stuck to for their two daughters.