#where she is a clock mage
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abysskeeper · 2 years ago
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As my bard goes into act 3, I followed through on wizard4wizard and rolled the only PC I have who has seen significant table time, Nox.
Multiclassing her and adding a level 1 cleric (of Selune, for rp reasons) has granted my wildest dreams and made her stats reflect that she's the biggest nerd in existence.
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shapelytimber · 27 days ago
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Pj party for the gang <3
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[BG3 PRINTS] - [COMMISSIONS]
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(Please don't spoil me act 3, I've still not got around to play it-)
Everytime I go to camp to clock in for the night, and a good 4 out of 6 of these fuckers go to sleep wearing *leather* outfits- I understand it from a 'this is a video game of course they don't change clothes to go sleeping' perspective..... But on the other hand I slept once in leather pants and that was one of the worst experiences of my life, so to think these people do it voluntarily everynight- freaks. All of them.
So I gave them pyjamas :D that was a lot of fun ! Also I like when characters have a more diverse builds and sizes, so I killed two birds w one stone and drew what the gang looks like in my heart <3 and of course I made a quick little line up !
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A lot of yapping about the pj choices and process below vvv
Gale : fancy depressed wizard gets a fancy bathrobe type get up ! I don't think this man was getting dressed a lot in that sad year post his breakup, so why not invest in a comfy cool pj he can slip on in the morning feeling like it kinda counts as dressing up ! And I get that they didn't exactly pack before getting kidnapped by aliens, but Gale is a wizard I'm sure he can just reach into a pocket dimension where he stores some of his belongings (ala my tes mage !) or something
Astarion : I don't think astarion owns many clothes. He isn't wealthy, and well.... Let's not talk about Cazador in the fun pyjama party post- so his ruffled shirt untucked from a pair of looser cotton or silk pants it is ! Also I learned that elves are typically shorter on average in dnd and that's great, that's perfect, that's so funny, I can just picture him insisting this is true (which it is).... And then enters Halsin fjdjdk anyway
Halsin : I just know in my heart that man sleep in his bear form. It's when he's most comfortable, and he doesn't need to talk to other people when sleeping so why not. Also comfy bed mate :) ! Other option is completely nude (yes I forgot to include him in the lineup, sue me but I'm too tired to re open photoshop rn-)
Shadowheart : this is my art, and if I want the resident goth girly to be in a cute little nightgown I can >:( she gets lace and everything let me be a lesbian !!! Also she small and sturdy
Wyll : a slight variation of his canon camp clothes :) made his top less skintight, and once again changed the texture from leather to something less terrible to sleep in seriously why are all these people committed to this lifestyle-
Lae'zel : no pjs, a githyanki must be ready for battle 24/7 only the weak wear comfy clothes and don't commit to sleeping in leather pants and leather underwear. She's a freak and I love her dearly
Karlach : she deserves the best pyjamas of them all : topless in underwear. Nothing comfier than that and it's not like she'll get cold :) also she wears it very well what can I say fjdjdkd
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I started working on the lineart like a month ago alongside a commission that I really didn't like working on- so anytime I got work done for the commission (btw not from someone online so it's none of you tumblrinas), I would reward myself with adding more shit to the bg3 drawing djdjdkk which resulted in a lot of details and clutter, that I didn't want to start coloring because that would be a nightmare to figure out and very long to do, so I would continue adding shit instead of starting colors- and the circle kept turning. Also 10 hands..... So this took a while to get right fjdjdk
But on the bright side, it's the most detailed illustrations I've done yet and I'm really proud of it (especially all the little story elements I could include <3)
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reignpage · 17 days ago
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Hey Neighbour!
Synopsis: in which you move into a new apartment complex and Sukuna is your landlord but you both aren't what you seem, continuation from pt 2 Warnings: talks of death, talks of being burnt at the stake, not proofread Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 2.5, Pt 3, Pt 3.5
“I can’t believe I’m actually gonna die,” you mutter. 
You’re currently stuck in a cell. It’s a very nice cell, what with the comfortable arm chair, filled book shelf, and pretty flowers in a vase, but a prison is a prison. Curse you and your pathetic shortcomings. Why couldn’t you just be born a stronger witch? 
Maybe the better question is, why didn’t you stay at home?
You just had to go in search for dragon’s bane, didn’t you?
Now, look at you. You’re going to be burned at the stake in front of the Council for refusing to join a coven. It’s not even your fault. All your life you’ve been in search of a coven who will accept you, but those hags would take one good look at you and decide, there and then, that you’re not strong enough. So why should you beg for charity when you know you can make it on your own?
Plus, you were so close to getting what you want from your hot landlord. Who else could say they have a flirtatious relationship with a Prince of Hell? He has a soft spot for you. 
Or rather, had. Because you’ll be dead as soon as the clock strikes three am. 
Those stupid vultures, mindless shades doing their masters’ bidding, just had to be waiting for you outside the boundaries of Sukuna’s protection. And for Hell’s sake, it took you a month’s voyage to get to his sanctuary to begin with. All your work is going to waste because you couldn’t sit still. 
Will he come for you?
“Yeah, as if.” 
Scoffing, you stare out the window, watching the moon at its peak. Escaping through the window is not an option; you can see the shimmer of a barrier and you know, feeling the sizzle on your skin at just the thought of it, that if you tried, you’ll be burned. That would be more humiliating than dying on stage. 
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Time to go, witch.”
You let the shades escort you, wisps of shadows encircling your wrists and keeping you from running away. Oddly, there isn’t a hint of nervousness in your veins. Perhaps it’s because, even though you’ve been slowly chiselling away at Sukuna’s defences so that he’ll consider taking you under his wing, you always knew this is how it would end. 
No one wanted you then and no wanted you now. 
The hall they lead you to, from your little shed, is exactly as you expect it to be — a huge hut made of thatch and enforced with magic. It sits in a dark, empty field, obscured by a thick fog, lanterns lining the path to the double doors, which open at your approach. 
Inside, there’s two semi circles of tables where the High Priests and Priestesses of the most powerful covens in the continent sit, awaiting your imminent death. As tradition, it is always guilty until presumed innocent so the trial will be held after your death and without your defence. Stupid tradition but you don’t dare point it out. They already hate you for defiling the very system that keeps order amongst the factions. 
Your very existence is a desecration of all that is sacred in your world. They will see to it that you are extinguished, preventing any insurgence in those who might feel inspired by your rebellion. Not that that was ever your intention, but no one cares. 
Shadows lead you to the pyre at the centre, tying your wrists and ankles around a wooden pole so you’ve got no hope of leaving. Of course, this is just for show, another tradition. No one with an ounce of intelligence would dare make an attempt to run away in front of mages far more powerful than themselves. 
“Another young witch thinking she can be the exception to our longstanding law,” one Priestess with peacock plumes on her hat says with a sigh. “How pitiful.”
“Indeed.”
A woman in a white cloak waves her fingers, casting sparks to light up the sticks at the base of the pyre. Fire comes to life. “To the charge of evading the Council, how do you plead?”
Okay, so they're wasting no time. Great.
“Guilty,” you admit with a shrug. 
They nod. “And to the charge of living without a coven?”
“Guilty and with no regrets.”
The fire burns brighter and faster. A flame is kissing the hem of your dress, burning the cotton and coming close to singing your skin. You’ve barely lived, have barely begun explored your full potential, haven’t seen the world because you’ve spent most of your years hiding in the shadows, and worst of all?
You haven’t sucked Sukuna’s dick. 
What a shame. 
“Ouch!” A flicker of the fire touches your ankle. So it begins. You're going to die. You're going to be charcoal within the hour and they'll spell your remains away, disappearing with the wind as if you never existed to begin with. What a pitiful way to go. Your sisters were right to cast you out of the coven you were born in; you're never going to amount to anything. This is it. Goodbye cruel world. Goodbye magic. Goodbye yummy food. Goodbye chance to be railed by Sukuna.
WHOOOOSH!
“What in Hell’s Unholy Blessing? Who are you? This is a closed meeting. How dare you!”
A round of cursing and sounds of indignation make a ruckus around the hall as the double doors fling open, letting in the thick fog. It blows away the fire that was coming close to eating you up. 
There, at the entrance, is a tall, muscular man. He’s in a robe of, what you can clearly see to be, the finest material. An unimaginable aura leaks from him, forcing all the mages to stagger back, suffocating under its immense, malevolent weight. 
“Your Highness! W-what are you doing here?”
The fog lifts, revealing someone you thought you’d never see again: your hot landlord. 
His piercing red eyes find you. In fact, they only stay on you. Scouring your body, he spots the burnt patch of skin on your shin and growls. “You have taken something from me. I want it back.
“We’ve done no such thing, my Lord.”
Peacock witch glances at you and gulps. “Y-you mean her? The shades did not step foot into your domain. We have not breached the sacred law of amenity and sanctuary!”
The binds on your limbs unravel and you don’t know who’s responsible for it, but you care not. Stretching your body out, you watch the strange events unfold. 
“My Lord. We’d all be very happy to appease you, as you know. But you cannot take her. She has committed a crime. She is covenless. She must die!”
Flicking his wrist, the Priest flies back, tumbling against the wall with a cringeworthy thud. How embarrassing. He groans and they all flinch. So do you. “She is not covenless, you insolent fools. She is mine.”
“You’re building a coven? B-but we weren’t made aware of it.”
Everyone is in a state of panic. They’ve offended a Prince of Hell and they cannot read him. His intentions are as much a mystery to them as they are to you, so no one makes a move. No one even so much as breathes in his presence. 
“You are aware now. We are leaving and your vultures will stay clear of my domain. That is an order. Take her off your list. You will not kill her for as long as she is a member of my coven.”
Watching you, they all wait for your next move. Well, of course you aren’t going to accept death. That would be very silly. So skipping down the stage and past the mages, you cling onto Sukuna’s muscular arm, cheek smushed against his firm bicep, bulging and biteable. You nibble on it through the robe and he makes a ‘tsk’ sound at you but doesn’t pull away. “Hey, can we go? I’m hungry.”
He rolls his eyes before pink fire envelopes you both, taking you away from that ghoulish place and returning you to his domain. 
“Aw, why are we in my room? I thought we’d consummate our new-found allegiance in your bed,” you grumble, poking his chest right where his nipple should be. 
Your hand is smacked away. 
“There’s food on your table. Eat. Sleep. And go about your day as usual. Nothing has changed between us.”
Then, he leaves. 
But not before he waves his hand and that burn on your shin vanishes, leaving a soothing caress.
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angelsndragons · 12 days ago
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how's it going, veilguard peeps? one of my favorite headcanons and theories is
the caretaker = felassan
and i'm gonna run down the (admittedly thin, heavy conjecture/inference) evidence we have supporting the theory.
spoilers ahead but first!
AnD, i hear you say, didn't Solas kill Felassan in The Masked Empire? Isn't that one of his great regrets?
fear not, fellow fans.
1. solas killed felassan In The Fade. that's kind of an important caveat. da2 established that mages killed in the fade become tranquil, they aren't outright killed. put a pin in this, we'll come back to it.
2. spirits, particularly ancient spirits, can fracture into different fragments upon death, some with their own personalities, experiences, and beliefs. we have falon'din and dirthamen, the two mythal fragments, solas' wisdom friend in dai, etc.
the point is that the ancient elves don't die easily and while felassan is probably not among the first generation of elves, he is still an ancient elf. we don't know if he was a spirit who gained a body or one of the first elves fully born in and of thedas. we do know that distinction matters very little, given that ghilan'nain was definitely of the later generation and yet she rose to become a god.
Okay, sure, AnD, but what does that have to do with Felassan and the Caretaker?
timeline:
felassan's notes are all over the crossroads and the lighthouse. not once does he mention the caretaker. even in the post-veil notes, the caretaker is not mentioned. the first time we Know that the caretaker has moved in to the crossroads and the lighthouse is from solas (we know it's from solas because of the paint):
This note has a smear of paint on one corner: Have they always been here? There are beings in the Crossroads unknown even to the wise, though the most ancient ones make any domain their own. Certainly, this Caretaker belongs here now. I wonder what we look like to them. Need is a scaffold, and the needs of the living ever rise and fall upon it. Hunger, thirst, sleep... imagine the constant cacophony to one sensitive to such things. Or am I too simple? Wants are fleeting; needs have deeper roots. Perhaps that's why I find this particular spirit's presence both comforting and disconcerting. The prospect that our heart's desire and our truest need could differ—or are even at odds—is hard to contemplate.
so sometime after he woke up in 9:39-9:40 dragon, solas made his way back to the lighthouse. he wonders whether the caretaker has always been in the lighthouse or if they are a more recent addition. whichever is the truth, solas immediately clocks them as ancient, comforting, and disconcerting.
now, as for when solas first encounters the caretaker, i'm going out on a limb to say that this encounter occurred after trespasser. we know solas carved his regrets out of himself via the paintings and statues to ensure he wasn't accidentally grabbed by his regret prison while moving the remaining gods. the office note states that he figured out his "perfect reparation" by studying the inquisitor's arm.
this is important because solas kills felassan in 9:40, leaving a gap of time where a fragment could reform and regain enough power to manifest once again.
so we've established a theoretical timeline in which felassan could have fragmented into the caretaker. now let's take a look at some links.
You are safe here, both those of flesh and those of Fade. Any who wish to help are welcome. The magic of the Lighthouse will provide for your needs, see to your comfort, and even help you understand different tongues, for those who escaped here from distant parts of the empire. Should you have any other needs, ask for the Slow Arrow, and I will help.
so i just want to highlight something here. felassan tasked himself with caring for the slaves and potential new rebels. he is explicitly linked over and over again with seeing to other people's well-being, with explicit concern for the innocent. it is his number 1 character trait outside of being solas' second. this man cares. he also specifically cares for solas, many of his codex entries include asides about solas' state of mind or words of comfort to his friend.
the caretaker tells rook that they "go where [they are] needed." felassan's notes on the vi'revas say "thus, we can travel wherever this rebellion needs us, with no fear of pursuit."
one of the caretaker's travel comments is "as needed," in response to rook's question if they're one spirit doing everything or multiple. aka the caretaker we know could be a fragment.
their first acts are to help rook navigate the crossroads, where felassan's notes are scattered all over the place. where elven spirits and fade spirits alike have come to take refuge from the gods, much like the ancient entry above. only this time, there is no solas and apparently no felassan. just a caretaker and a bunch of guardians. guardians which, according to bellara, are powered by spirits set to guard something. so like, fractured echoes or remnants of the original rebellion, is what i'm getting at. much like how the lighthouse is fractured, the veil broke the world and the fade, etc.
the caretaker holds dominion over the crossroads. they also say at the beginning that they do not have the power to help rook more due to the state of the crossroads. the spreading blight and weaponization of the wolf's regrets are leeching power from the place and the caretaker. the rune rook receives at the end of the game is called the salvation of felassan and its power is dictated by how much of the crossroads quest line the player completed.
however i would argue the strongest evidence that felassan fractured into the caretaker is thus: remember way back in the beginning of this monstrosity i said that felassan was murdered in the fade? remember how da2 establishes that mages killed in the fade become tranquil via feynriel? and remember how it's dwarves, innately tranquil because they are cut off from the titans, and tranquil mages who enchant objects in the previous titles?
remind me who's doing the enchanting in this game again?
that's a rhetorical question.
it's the caretaker.
yeah, just think about it for a second.
a spirit has been sundered from the fade enough that they can enchant items and even abilities.
felassan was an ancient elf murdered in the fade.
yeah.
i love this game.
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rookinthecrownest · 4 months ago
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Pictured here, one Master Dellamorte who has learned precisely nothing about seducing hot Tevinter mages.
Also pictured here, said Tevinter mage about to be swindled in the Treviso marketplace.
Some info about Pompeiia:
She comes from a very old Tevinter family, who are virtually all involved with the Venatori. They saw her as nothing more than a pretty face, a socialite, and a thing to be sold off to the highest bidder with the best pedigree. Pompeiia started spying on her family for the shadow dragons when they were about to marry her off to a magister, in exchange for digging up dirt on him and publicly disgracing him. She continued to spy for the shadow dragons until the events of the game. Eventually she was found out and disowned by her family. She decides to start over in Antiva (post game), but finds starting over in a new country where you dont know anyone and only sort of speak the language, and without access your family’s wealth is a bit harder than she thought.
In comes a certain Illario, who although forgiven and allowed to remain in Treviso, is under the watchful eyes of the Crows and sees an opportunity.
Something something two people who are used to charming the pants off everyone they meet and becoming social chameleons are forced to abandon that when they clock each other’s motives almost instantly. Immovable object v Unstoppable force.
Im disgustingly obsessed with them. This is what happens when @juneiper-art and @teawithshakespeare enable me 😩
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doberbutts · 2 months ago
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is it just me or is like the whole stuff of cishet men dni and (cis perisex) women only spaces conflating vulnerability with safety? like, with a cis man and a cis woman who otherwise have quote unquote equal positions in society otherwise, there's the risk (or put it danger) from him being able to use his male privilege against her. but if it were a trans man or another cis woman instead that doesn't make them safe and unable to weaponize misogyny or commit interpersonal violence against her, they are just vulnerable to her ability to fight back so to speak in ways that the cis man isn't. but it feels like (general) we talk about these things like they're the same.
I firmly believe that every single transgender person is a marginalized gender due to their transgender status- this is something that I have seen discussed within black transfeminism regularly (see also: MaGe) and yet we get onto tumblr and suddenly all of that disappears under "by effect of being a man you inherently have male privilege and your very existence oppresses all women" rather than realize that transgender people as a whole operate within a structure of marginalization themselves.
As I have said repeatedly- it's not that I don't think trans men are capable of having male privilege (we are) or that I don't think trans men can contribute to and even utilize misogyny to our benefit (we can) - it's that the power and effect of this can depend wildly from trans man to trans man, and what one trans man is capable of might be well out of reach for another.
I have a good friend who is, on paper, demographically very similar to me. She is a cis lesbian, black/white/native, occupying the same tax bracket and occupation, disabled and neurodiverse. We've had extensive discussions about black and gender and gay politics, even when we don't agree we can usually see where each other is coming from.
I have absolutely no problem stating that in certain situations, I do absolutely have privilege over her despite my status as trans and hers as cis. I'm fairly cis-passing at this point. We go out to eat together whenever we can- it is demonstratably significantly more likely that she will be hit on and harassed by a cishet man looking to shoot his shot with a pretty girl than I am. It is significantly more likely that any and all pushback she gives this hypothetical man will be, at best, ignored, and at worst, met with physical or sexual violence. It is also significantly more likely that my very presence at the table will prevent him from doing so, as my approximate physical positioning to her acts as a claim to would-be creeps, and any pushback I give in this scenario is more likely to be met with him backing off.
It's also true that should this would-be creep clock me, register either of our gay signaling, or be racist on top of sexist, this situation might also go sideways for the both of us at any given point. It's entirely possible that this guy will spike her drink when I get up to use the bathroom, or that he'll follow us out to the parking lot and stab one of us, or cause a scene to get us both kicked out. We are both black and gay, after all. Intersectionality is key, here.
Three years ago, I had not yet started testosterone. I only passed maybe 50% of the time, and usually assumed to be a teenager despite being just touching 30. Three years ago, this hypothetical situation would have played out much differently.
Twelve years ago, it did. I was in college and had gone to a local McDonalds with one of my friends, another student there, for lunch. A man old enough to be our grandfather began to hit on us, ignoring our pushback and attempts to move away from and ignore him. I was binding at the time, with my hair cut short, going by he/him exclusively with my friends and out within my college sphere. And yet, what made this guy back off was my (white) cishet friend who prickled at him and began to make a scene until he heard that we were college students, at which point he disengaged entirely. Yup- he was looking for high schoolers to creep on, and we both made various noises of disgust once we realized his actual target.
Being a trans man had very little if any effect on this situation- my presence at the table was no help, my refusal to play ball was no help telling him to go away and that we were not interested was no help. The only thing that helped was killing his pedophile boner once he knew we were adults. I shudder to think what would have happened had we actually been kids.
Back to my cis lesbian friend and the present day- the portion of the sport and dog fancy we both occupy is very cis woman dominated. She can and often does flex what power she has in order to help others get their start- we joke often that she's collecting a posse of trans men as she's somehow managed to sell to majority trans men with her most recent litter. She has no problem wading into a situation where a trans man is being ejected from a queer group and arguing for his right to stay. Early on in my transition, she would loudly correct pretty much anyone misgendering me until that person fixed their shit- and would hover making faces behind me if I was present at a show and they were being a shit about it.
She also sometimes goes on woman-only retreats. And, to be clear, it is her opinion that a trans woman by definition of being a woman should be invited to these retreats. She does not want men at these woman-only retreats, and that does include trans men. And, you know what? I don't really blame her- she wants a space where her womanhood is centered and not have to deal with Men And Their Feelings. Fair- men can be exhausting to deal with especially for lesbians. But she also agrees that maybe pushing a freshly-out trans man out of the group is perhaps a bit cruel if he has been there for years. Most likely, he will go on his own once he gets his feet under him. There's no need to shove him out the door prematurely.
And I think that's really the crux of it.
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izzabela · 5 months ago
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Could you write headcanons for the Lin Kuei trio (Cyrax & Sektor too if possible) with an Autistic reader helping them deal with a sensory overload? Thank you! ^_^
Too Much - Lin Kuei x GN!autistic!reader (headcanons)
in which you experience a sensory overload
a/n: i'm back
ship[s]: tomas vrbada, kuai liang, bi han, cyrax, sektor x GN!autistic!reader (separate)
warning(s): sensory overload (i did my best on research guys), pre-lin kuei split
Sensory overload: "...occurs when one or more of the body's senses is overstimulated to a point where a person is unable to cope."
While it can be used for PTSD and OCD, for the purposes of this fic, it will be related to autism and people on the spectrum
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Tomas Vrbada - Ear-clapping
- ear-clapping is one of the more serious mechanisms that could happen with a sensory overload, which involves the person with autism to aggressively clap their ears. in the most severe cases, screaming and crying can occur
- Tomas learned this was caused by very loud sounds
- to help you, he learned that immediately moving you to a quieter area works wonders
- if there were no available quiet spaces, he did his best to hold you very tightly (and i mean very tightly) and cover your ears for you himself
- sometimes, during the severe attacks, you scratched his arm because they were in the way, but he powered through because you would not only calm down, but according to him- "tis but a scratch!"
Kuai Liang - Foot-tapping
- Kuai Liang used to think you foot-tapped when you were annoyed
- it always happened during the meetings where they were held in the old meeting hall, where the flames always seemed to flicker a bit too much
- or it happened when you heard the ancient clock in your shared room tick-tick-tick too much (he had it removed after weeks of back-and-forth between one of the elders)
- Kuai helps you out during these moments by just sitting next to you. he'll even talk to you (only when you say so)
- he learns that holding your hand is the best way to help you overcome the overload
Bi Han - Sensory-seeking Behavior
- Bi Han though you were really odd when he first saw you intensely smelling the unlit candle in your shared room, he realized though it was much more
- Bi Han definitely has "asian dad vibes" because his response to that was buying the entire stock of the candle you liked in case you were going somewhere and had an overload without him
- if you couldn't get your hands on the candle scent, Bi Han juggled ice balls (no you will not correct me on my headcanon that Bi Han juggles). he even mastered how to do multiple ice balls at once
- he learned this was caused by the intense smell of the incense that's burned in the training room. a combination of smelling salts plus some weird potion the elder mages imbued with the salts
- he prohibited the use of it immediately, but you occasionally smell it due to the centuries of use
- still, when you do smell it, he'll help you anyway he can
Sektor - Distraction Behavior
- Sektor thought it was weird that you fiddled with the stylistic wires that stuck out on the back of her helmet, but after learning it was to cope with sensory overload, she was more than happy to help
- sektor made you a personal "sensory toy," a stick with the exact wires that stuck out on one end. you use it often, but when it isn't on you, Sektor has other ideas
- she brought you this toad sculpture made of wood, with ridges sculpted in them for you to touch (you find it rather soothing)
- if it those things aren't present, Sektor doesn't mind that you fiddle with her hand: tracing pictures with your finger, playing with her fingers, etc
Cyrax - Sensory Avoidance Behavior
- after Cyrax watched you shut your eyes as tight as possible while rocking in place after dropping a huge aluminum tube, she felt really really bad
- caused by loud sounds, she learned your overload coping behavior was to not feel, see, or hear everyday sounds
- she made you a helmet that's blacked inside and out, and has incredible noise cancelling abilities
- she also made you earplugs, a combination of technology and soft materials so that you wouldn't be uncomfortable. she paired it with a simple blindfold made with the "blackest fabric dye in the world" (with what funds?)
- while there were days you wanted Cyrax to hold you, other overloads weren't as kind. sometimes you didn't want her with you, and thank the elder gods she didn't take it personal. she still felt bad leaving you alone, so she always left a pillow that was heavily doused in her natural smell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
okay two of my mass-posts
i really did my best with research on this guys, but if i wrote anything wrong or anything else, please let me know! constructive feedback is accepted, but as soon as i see insults or berating, those will be deleted and your blog will be blocked
see yall in the next fic
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Do you guys like fan theory and speculation?
Because I'm wondering if you guys have been deliberately playing into the old connections between WoD and Exalted, and it keeps showing up. Big D specifically has a lot of Solar themes. A bit mad, and specifically mad in being passionate, bombastic, and larger than life. Grand in his ties. Ruled by the virtues of Compassion, Valor, and Conviction. Doesn't make him a Solar, even Big D is too low key for that, but notable given the ties between Solars and Hunters in the old lore. (Also a very, very fun crack theory to play with) All of the hunters, in fact, have a notable visual motif where — In their moment of need — things go their way and they just so happen to be framed by gold light like a very low key aura. Notable since a Solar's power is meant to come to them in their hour of greatest need and a blazing aura of sunlight. It's most frequent with Big D, but Kitten gets it upon finding the stilts, Remold when he takes his shot in Fatigue's name, and Marcus gets it when finding the eye, and Fatigue is outright haloed when coming to Spit's aid. Kitten's character sheet also pulls up a very Exalted sounding note with how "Will this [family bond] be our strength or our ultimate undoing?" pulls up one of Exalted's biggest themes. Boy's story... Do I even have to say anything? Probably, but I might run out of space if I went into detail. Picture Perfect Solar exaltation, on the nose Sidereal mentor, Not sure if Dragonblooded, 40k space marine reference, or both. Muddled maybe Infernal/ Maybe Abyssal exaltation. And I'll leave it at that. The mages of Norfolk Wizard Game are all dressed in thematically appropriate Sidereal colors. Blue, Green, Yellow, Red, and Purple. Too many to list, but the ones who get in fights wear red, (even just a red tie for a man in black) the ones who play into secrets wear green, the one who ushers in the ending via the transition to Awakening wears purple, blue serenity doesn't on the face of it match Samsons deal aside from dealing with Matter and what things are... (but does fit the Technocratic therapist) and the teleporting conspiracy theorist with the RV wears the yellow of Journeys. On which themes, Big D specifically invokes the morning star, Venus, to bring serenity to a vampire as she chooses to meet the sun's light. On the NWG clock I'm definitely off the deep end. Creation wasn't meant to be Pangaea... but if you flipped it upside down and Atlantised the Blessed Isle... I'm still probably reaching. (OTOH, deleting the heart of the Realm and the main empire of the Dragonblooded before whatever apocalypse came about would explain why the Kindred of the East aren't a thing in this take on WoD given the ties between the two splats) It feels like there's more I could dig for given how recently I came across the series, but that will do for now. So, yeah. It looks like there are a lot of Exalted nods and references in Hunter the Parenting, so to put this naked excuse for fan speculation in hopes of delighting the work's creators in the form of a question: What's up with that?
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heroesrest64 · 1 month ago
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Haunting Heroes
Other parts: 1 2 3 4 5
Chapter 6: Murder at Work
Chapter summary: You go to work and consider the implications of your attic filled with swords
You can read the chapter here on ao3
Chapter below the cut :)
You don’t have time to really unpack anything. Neither the boxes nor your own suspicions. So you make a quick dinner, play one episode of the show Ghosts for shits and giggles, then proceed to pass the fuck out on your couch.
Your alarm goes off before the sun even rises, and you slump off your couch and more or less crawl to the bathroom to start your morning routine.
The office building you work in is modern, in a sense. The cubicles are just like the ones you see in shows and movies, with minor discrepancies here and there. Your own cubicle has decorations up even though it’s been two weeks since the last holiday, but you decided the look was seasonal enough to be excused.
You slump into your rolling chair and begin your day, lamenting the fact that you left your coffee in the car.
“Hey work bestie~” a voice sings, and you glance at the clock. Twenty minutes late; that might be a new record.
“Hello Carrie. You’re early.” You muse, spinning your chair to face the blonde woman standing at the edge of your cubicle.
“I know, right? Boss might faint when he sees me,” Carrie laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. You can’t help but grin yourself, pushing your seat back to properly greet the woman before something in the corner of your eye makes a chill crawl down your spine.
There’s a flock of crows sitting just outside your work building, almost all of them gathered atop your car.
Among them, you spot none other than Jimmy, bigger and prouder than the rest. You thought you left Twilight’s anchor in your office, so this must be the crows own doing.
“What are you looking at- oh.” Carrie stops dead when she sees the same thing you do. She laughs a little, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Looks like you have a bit of a fan club. I knew you were feeding the birds around here, but I didn’t think they’d start crowding your car.” Carrie giggles, reaching out to ruffle your hair a little bit.
“I’ll let you get back to work now. We should get lunch today, though! My treat!” Carrie calls over her shoulder as she retreats to her own cubicle.
You sigh, casting Jimmy one last cursory glance before settling back into your seat, ready to get on with your day.
~~
You spend your breaks researching. History classes from back in school told you all of the basics, but it doesn’t hurt to get a refresher.
The creation of Hyrule, brought about by the Hero of the Skies. An era of peace interrupted by a wind mage that was brought down by the Hero of the Four Sword, another era of peace before some guy named Ganon got ratted out by a kid from the Kokiri forest, then imprisoned in the Twilight Realm, where he eventually escaped to enact his original plots. After being sealed yet again, the man escaped his seals and played a huge part in the War of Eras, which brought about knowledge of alternate timelines and created rifts between said timelines which everyone decided to just… not mess with. Then, the group of Heroes started showing up. Old diaries from those times claimed a group of nine heroes would pop in and out of different pockets of time, looking for some sort of black blooded monster. They chased that thing through countless places and times, to the point it was impossible to really keep track of their adventure.
But everybody knows that the end of their journey is questionable. Nobody knows if they ever vanquished the creature that they were chasing. Nobody knows if they ever returned to their correct times or realities.
The last time they were apparently seen was… about a hundred years ago, though with all of the reality and time hopping, it’s hard to say if that was truly the end of their journey.
“Do you believe the stories about the old heroes?” You ask Carrie, looking up from your phone at the girl who’s halfway through a mouthful of her burger.
“Erm.. Why not? I mean, magic and monsters aren’t as common as they used to be, but they’re still around. That means someone had to take care of all the bad stuff in the past. Why not some macho blondes with arsenals of weapons and magic at the tips of their fingers?” Carrie shrugs, wiping her hands with a napkin before throwing it back into her plate.
“ ‘Macho Blondes’, eh? So you’re one of those people.” You smirk, leaning forward to throw your coworker a smug look.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of the Twink Link truthers!” Carrie accuses, pointing her finger in your face. You back up, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Not all of them… just most of them.” You smile genially, and Carrie squints at you.
“The Hero of Time.” She hisses between gritted teeth. You feel a bead of sweat beginning to form on your brow. Friendships have been ruined over this very topic.
“I think… he was a twink in his youth, but a DILF towards the end.” You speak your truth, and Carrie stares you down for three more stressful seconds before leaning back in her seat and nodding.
“A wise decision.” Carrie hums, then goes back to eating her burger. You glance at your phone, thinking back to all of the research you’ve done today. When you get home, you need to get some answers.
~~
You go home and sequester yourself away into your attic.
It’s quiet up there. A little humid, but not terrible. Bearable.
You sort through the boxes upon boxes of gear, comparing them to their historical counterparts and slowly putting together the armor sets of each of the heroes you heard about while growing up.
You stare at the piles of gear, knees pulled up to your chest and chin resting on your knees. You click your phone on, eyes blankly observing your Home Screen.
“Do I actually need to ask at this rate? The truth is clear as day…” You mumble, opening your phone to find the Hero of Time’s wiki pulled up.
“The thing I’m having trouble with… is why they’re here of all places.” You groan, continuing to scroll through your phone until it suddenly shuts off. That’s weird, it had enough charge before. You sigh, pocketing the device before deciding to rejoin the world of the living. Or, well, the world of the dead from your roommates perspective.
You can’t help but laugh at your own little joke, scooting over to the hatch leading down to your room. It lets out an awful creaking noise while you climb down that you elect to ignore, though maybe you shouldn’t have since a loud snap sounds out, and you barely have time to gasp before your back makes contact with solid ground.
���Oww…” You groan, sitting up and blindly rubbing your back before opening your eyes to make sure that nobody saw you completely embarrass yourself.
You don’t find anybody. Nor do you find your own room.
All you find when you look around is an empty forest.
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monbons · 4 months ago
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Stitches and Sentences Roundup 2024
Thanks for the tags on your writing round ups @run-for-chamo-miles, @drowninginships, and @emeryhall! I just got back from a weeklong trip and instead of doing laundry, I'm joining in on the roundup fun.
FIC I moved from lurker to active fandom participant this year with a bang. I posted my first fic ever for EGF and have basically been writing or posting non-stop since then. I wrote/co-wrote 5 fics this year and clocked in at 101, 725 words.
Kill Em With Kindness - rated T, 6.5k, Watford-Era, getting together fic
When no one seems to care that Baz is sad, Simon steps in to help. The only reasonable explanation for all Simon's kindness is that he's trying to kill Baz, right? (My most popular fic as measured by kudos.)
Knock Your Socks Off - rated T, 4k, Watford-Era, 7th year fic
Baz steals Simon's socks. Simon blames the sock monster. Chaos ensues.
The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch - rated M, 42k, Addie LaRue AU, a truly epic romance
Told in two alternating timelines that span from 1700s Hampshire all the way to early 2000's Washington, DC, this fic follows Baz as he spends centuries searching for the love of all his lives. (This was the fic that convinced me I could write long and holds a very special place in my heart. Is it angsty? Yes. Is it some of the most beautiful prose I've ever written? Also yes.)
The Boy Next Door - rated M, 47k, and they were neighbors AU, a coming of age romance
When Simon moves in with his gran, he decides to befriend the mysterious boy next door. He changes both their lives in the process. (My most popular fic by literally every other measure.)
The Reason for The Season - rated T, 1.6k, text fic, co-written with @thewholelemon
Dev and Niall make a list. Holiday hijinks abound. (A bday gift for @mooncello)
ART I do not currently have a great way to track my dolls and searched my Instagram to do the math, only to realize I hadn't posted every doll I made either! (If anyone has a good art tracking system, I'm open to ideas.) If my count is correct, I clocked in at a grand total of 35 dolls this year, including:
10 Simons
15 Bazzes
2 Pennys
2 Nialls
2 Devs
1 Mage
1 Fiona
1 Agatha
1 Shep
The picture below shows my earliest dolls, where I was still experimenting with style and form. As you can see, many of them are quite flat. (Fun fact: All of these dolls--including their clothing--were made before I owned a sewing machine.)
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Going 3D was actually an accident, but we have the Watford Baz and Simon below to thank for it! After committing to 3D dolls, I kept evolving my pattern---improving joints, proportions, and adding details like ears!---until we reached my most current iterations.
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Now every doll has their own special pattern that takes into account their canon proportions, where available. Notice Baz is tall and slender where Simon is extra fluffy!
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I did not include any of the dolls I created for COC 2024 since I assume everyone has seen them already, but I linked the master post in case you missed a day.
Finally, in addition to dolls, I also created 2 plushies (a merwolf and a bunbaz) plus 12 finger puppets this year.
It's hard to quantify dolls like fics, especially since almost every doll before COC did not have a dedicated tumblr post. However, here are some fun art stats:
Most Popular Art Post: The Watford Map
Most Popular Doll: FIONA!
Second Most Popular Doll: Felt Smut (Look @emeryhall! Dragonboy Simon is indeed the sexiest given that this is my duplicate of your doll!)
I also had three art collaborations this year:
Baz and The Prophecy - Doll and Tapestry, a COTTA collaboration with @iamamythologicalcreature
Ballet Baz and Disco Simon - a CORB collaboration with @melodysmash (Read the fic she wrote--Body Language. It is as adorable as these dolls!)
Watford Advent Map - a tapestry made for COC 2024 with help from @rimeswithpurple
While it has definitely been a fabulously productive year, I think my greatest achievement has been all the new friendships I've fostered because of fandom. Y'all bring me so much joy, and I am so happy I found this little corner of the internet.
I am currently drained of all creative energy (I can't imagine why!), so you may not hear from me for a while. However, I promise I am still around---likely catching up on all the fic and art I've missed while being a literal word and doll factory. With all that said, if you have an idea and wanna collab in the new year, I'm all ears and tons of fun!
Hellos and high-fives for the last time in 2024! @alexalexinii, @argumentativeantitheticalg, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @artsyunderstudy
@best--dress, @blackberrysummerblog, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @bookish-bogwitch, @confused-bi-queer
@cutestkilla, @emeryhall, @facewithoutheart, @harrie-leithillustration, @hushed-chorus
@ic3que3n, @ileadacharmedlife, @katatsumuli, @larkral, @letraspal
@martsonmars, @messofthejess, @mooncello, @noblecorgi, @orange-peony
@raenestee, @rbkzz, @roomwithanopenfire, @shrekgogurt, @skeedelvee
@stitchyqueer, @supercutedinosaurs, @talentpiper11, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @theimpossibledemon
@valeffelees, @whatevertheweather, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold
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solarisfortuneia · 1 year ago
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— 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟.
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✦ info: kaeya returns home wearing his master thief costume. (takes place after the events of 'secret summer paradise' in version 3.8)
✦ warnings: not proofread.
✦ notes: where can i get myself a kaeya pls why isn't he here with me
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the clock strikes nine just as the knob to your front door turns, the little bird in the wooden device chirping out the counts at precise intervals. the creaks of the door are not loud, yet they still have you jolting awake from your impromptu after-shower nap. 
“sorry, did we wake you?” a very familiar voice whispers into the dark from near the hallway. kaeya’s back! you realize, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
you shake your head, closing the book that lays open on your lap. “no, no. i just dozed off.” you laugh it off, smiling at your boyfriend and at klee, who’s dozing off comfortably in kaeya’s arms. she stirs when he moves a little too abruptly. 
“hey, it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.” he coos softly, patting her head. he sets her down on the couch, gently laying her head on a cushion.
“we had a little too much fun in sumeru,” he tells you after he’s made sure she’s sound asleep, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist. “she’s all tired out. albedo’ll be here to take her home soon.”
“i can tell. i love her mage costume.” you squint at his indigo and peacock feather get up. “and you’re supposed to be a…?”
he huffs playfully, pouting. “you can’t tell? i’m a master thief, clearly.”
“the style suits you.” you tap at his lips and his mouth spreads into a grin underneath your fingers, lighting up his entire face. “though, you’re not you without the boob-window. or that fluffy monstrosity you call a cape. it’s characteristic, but unnecessary. ”
he gasps in mock offense. “how could you slander my cape that way? you call it an unnecessary fluffy monstrosity, yet you still steal it when you’re cold, do you not?”
you exhale forcefully through your nose despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “touché. drama queen.” 
“besides, i was born for this role, you know,” he says, mischief glinting in his periwinkle eye. “after all, did i not manage to steal your heart?” 
you roll your eyes, undoing the peacock feather tie and tugging at the braid he has his hair in to free it. he gives you a fond look, shaking his head to assist once you’ve loosened it enough. azure cascades down his shoulders, a slight wave throughout. “so, master thief kaeya, wearer of feathers, stealer of hearts.” your expression mirrors the still-present grin on his face as you loop your arms around his neck, his hair a silky waterfall on your fingers. “what caper are you chasing next?” 
“since i already have the most precious of hearts in my hands, i believe i need to steal a few kisses to complete my collection, yes?” 
“but good sir, are you sure you’d be satisfied with just a few?”
“oh, haven’t you heard, darling?” you feel his mouth curl into a slow smile against your neck, his voice a caress against your skin.
 “i’m insatiable.”
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taglist: @number-one-love-lover
new taglist form (old one had issues): here.
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windmaedchen-oceanhorn · 1 month ago
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argh, I still have so much in my head!
End Game Ideas
I am stuck on the craziness of endgame possibility. We have what, 7 or 9 sword bearers or something? So let's say we get them all and then it's time for the great showdown. Obviously Ygdris/Great Will has to return and an epic battle takes place before Merlin finally emerges victorious.
So, since Erin's been reborn at this current point in time... it's her job to actually get Ygdris out of his prison. The Adamant Syndicate (AS) is just the most recent of cults with that goal, but being entirely human they couldn't make much progress throughout the centuries. But just as much Merlin is the key for the light to succeed in the end... Erin is the key for the darkness to spread.
I want to utilize the Silencing Spell for that. Imagine it's significance. Mages rely purely on magic to fight and defend. If you are able to remove a mages ability to call upon magic, then thats a different caliber of breach. Silencing a mage is pretty much their death sentence. And it is no coincidence that this spell is not only forbidden, but also incredibly hard to master. What control over magic do you need to withhold it from someone else?!
We know Merlin uses it so some extend, but I have the feeling it's the players choice to abuse it. Merlin would not willingly use it as freely as players may do. Just as Hammie didn't want Merlin to use that gravecalling magic, she probably doesn't appreciate the Silencing spells either and tolerates them only in emergency battles.
And who uses it, too? Cyran. I am cheekily making him be able to learn it not only by studying Merlin's magic, but also through the book of Dark Magic given to him by Erin. It's the most difficult and dangerous in it. We have used Cyran in game a lot and he's silencing Merlin's here and there but... in canon: he will be able to do it only once. xD It's too important a spell.
So in the timeframe that Erin hunts down her master, when she realizes Cyran is able to silence others... the clock starts ticking.
Because here's what happened: The First Divine War was one big stalemate. In the end, Dura felt she had no choice. She sacrificed herself to become a giant magic circle, silencing Ygdris. She is laying all over Esperia and it is completely unknown to anyone what exactly she did. The Celestials consider Ygdris imprisoned back in the Underworld, where the Hypogeans were pushed back into after Ygdris was silenced. Ygdris actually remained in Esperia, however, scattered - unable to move or do anything. And this has been the case for two millennia now. That Ygdris can show himself to the AS in the dark, purple gooey form is due to their sacrifices usually and him being able to ever so slightly drip through grips of the Silencing spell. He is a powerful being, after all.
Cyran's ambition is vital for all this. He enables Erin to study the Silencing spell again and figure out how to break it. She just needs to be able to discern Dura's magic circle now, which is... immensely difficult due to it's size. You're not just looking for the needle in a haystack in order to break it, but you are also trying to see the forest for all the trees in it.
The hint comes from Dura herself to Erin. Remember how she gave her the necklace that hid her Hypogean aura? On the backside is written: When darkness swallowed this light - come home to me. Erin knew of the inscription forever, but also only was reminded of it because she saw the broken and useless necklace again in Cyran's possession (he kept it after Erin's rebirth, it's magically and historically too interesting to be cast away). And where is "home to me"? 
In the heavens, so to speak. Where the Celestials have their realm and base. The place where they erected Dura's grave/memorial. A place inaccessible normally to anyone. But not Erin. Even without the necklace, Erin can actually use the Divine Light (thanks to Dura's and Merlin's guidance (even if she's really worse than the newest of novices)). She covers herself in a thin layer of it, in order to enter the sacred realm of the Celestials.
That's such an epic visit. xD First Erin sets free the Hypogeans still imprisoned there (as well as possibly Gavus, Liberta and Lucilla for the sake of her brother). Of course the celestials are now alarmed and take up the pursuit. Erin breaches deep into the heart of this realm, to visit Dura's grave. She snatches Dura's crown and escapes. There is not a single Celestial now that's still in slumber. They know what's going to happen and panic. All of Esperia is now on high alert.
There are a few more days of grace period, because Erin is NOT Ygdris and has to recover a little. The AS just tries to divert attention as much as possible, but they secretly make their final moves to help Erin break the spell. And so, wearing Dura's crown, Erin ascends to the skies above Esperia, able to discern Dura's spell and then gives her life to break it. Ygdris can finally ooze out from wherever he is, and trust me, he is EVERYWHERE, and the world is plunged into darkness, and utilizing Erin's body and soul he manifests one more time, effectively eradicating her existence.
The sky is a dark red/purple hue and Esperia is in for a hard time.
After this, I suppose, things will settle just a little, so to allow Merlin and the Celestials to plan their approach. Overall, Ygdris is not around for long. Merlin will take him down, one way or another. But, not after a nice epic battle against Cyran. These two must fight. The first thing Cyran does is kill Chippy and Hammie. That's how he makes himself known to Merlin before stepping out of the darkness. Oh, the spite being spoken. Merlin trying to appease... but... no. I imagine that at first Merlin WILL loose. And for a very short moment, Cyran is victorious. Unfortunately for Cyran, Merlin is not just a human. Something Cyran never managed to believe. And so Merlin is able to return (not unlike after his meeting with the God of Death), reborn, like Erin. Reborn as that which he is (including all his memories). A manifestation of magic, or the will and soul of Esperia, a different kind of light compared to Dura's Divinity. And so Cyran dies. And upon his death, Merlin admits to Cyran that in all his time on Esperia, he has never encountered a human mage as strong and skilled as Cyran (and Esperia (Merlin) will forever remember his face).
(And then maybe we get the cheesy ending, please. Snake Cyran King and his Queen forever.)
OR, we just see the darkness disappear and both light and dark return to a new equilibrium, with Merlin maybe disintegrating until he/she/they are needed again in another cycle of this eternal fight between light and dark. The End. Bye.
*drops mic*
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toskarin · 1 year ago
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Wait, how does the UBW anime spoil heaven's feel? I've seen it and since then played HF but I have no memory
spoilers below the break for UBW and HF
the anime makes it much more obvious that rin is disappearing to check on sakura at school, along with her directly referencing sakura being adopted when talking to shirou in a way that assumes the viewer knows sakura is rin's sister
rin telling shirou that the only other mage at school wasn't a threat was more than just her writing off shinji: it's a deliberate misdirection. rin didn't consider shinji to be a factor and was checking to see if sakura had placed the sigils
because the command spell was being proxied to shinji, it wouldn't have appeared on her body. because shinji didn't actually have aptitude for magecraft, she wouldn't have sensed it on him
this also ties into rin's whole thing of being a near-perfectionist who always blindspots a single detail by getting too comfortable with how competent she is[1]
[1]: first shown with the clock trick sabotaging her summoning, despite her having noticed and remarked on it happening. she identified the trap, but didn't consider a scenario where she could fall for it
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bookerwrites · 5 months ago
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Hope Has a Place (In a Lover's Heart)
Cross posted on AO3 here!
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Pairing: Solas/Lavellan
Summery: Lavellan let's Solas in on a little game she used to play.
Word Count: 1,302
Content: Fluff, light angst, some good old hurt/comfort, discussion of spirits. Spoilers for Dragon Age: The Veilguard!
———
“I was right about you.” Lavellan sighs as she turns the page of her book, squeezing Solas’ hand softly. They’re sat beside each other on the sofa in the reflection room, thighs pressed together as they read quietly.
“Oh? How so, vehnan?” Solas asks, his attention not quite wrested from his reading. Lavellan shifts next to him, untucking one leg from under herself as she dog ears her page and turns to face him, a mischievous smile slipping onto her face that he doesn’t quite catch.
“I always knew you’d be a spirit of wisdom.”
Solas is startled, momentarily, by her words, his book tumbling into his lap as he looks up at her in shock. “You-You knew?” He asks, his voice almost imperceptibly higher as he swallows nervously before clocking the teasing look on Lavellan’s face.
“Oh.” He murmurs, his brows creasing as he picks up his book and tries to find his place. As she presses closer to him she catches the wry little smile that he’s trying to stop from tugging at the corner of his lips.
“It was a game I liked to play on long journeys.” She says softly as she leans down and wraps her arms around his waist, making herself comfortable between his legs, chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him. “I’d try to match you all up with which spirit I thought represented you best.”
“Ah, an…interesting thought experiment.” Solas replies, trying his best to feign disinterest.
Lavellan shrugs half-heartedly, smile curling further across her face. “It staved off the boredom, and the cold.” She says as she digs her fingers into his sides to get at his attention.
Solas lets out what anyone else might describe as an entirely undignified yelp, snapping his book shut as he looks down at the woman currently using him as a glorified pillow. Instinct dictates he berate her – all be it gently – for such conduct in a place where anyone could see them, a remnant of their Inquisition days that he realises all to quickly no longer applies.
He catches the tail end of her laughter, soft and rich as she sits up again, legs splayed either side of his own, hands resting against his chest. He finds he misses her warmth almost as soon as it’s gone.
“Alright.” He smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes as he concedes. “Colour me intrigued.”
“Well, as I said- you were an easy read, vehnan.” She says as she leans down to press a kiss to the divot in his chin. Solas would deny it if asked, but he feels the way his cheeks heat up at how casually she preforms the gesture. “So was Cole, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Solas replies, recalling the young man fondly. “Who else?”
Lavellan takes a moment, tracing an idle pattern across the neckline of his shirt as she tries to remember. “Well okay, so- Vivienne always seemed like she’d be Command to me.”
“Makes sense.” Solas can’t help the way he huffs derisively at the mention of the mage, earning himself a playful smack on the shoulder that spirals them both into laughter again.
As Lavellan regains her poise above him she continues, “Josie…always seemed like a shoe in for Love.”
“Really now?” Solas asks, book relegated to the floor as he moves his hands to rest on her hips. “Not Cassandra?”
“No, Cassandra was always Duty.” She replies easily, as if the answer were obvious. Solas supposes with the amount of travelling they had done in the past she may well have considered the topic thoroughly.
“I see.” He nods softly in agreement, already invested in her line of thinking; in this little game she’s let him in on. “And what of our brave commander and cunning spymaster?”
“Oh, Honour and Faith, respectively.” She shrugs softly, shifting above him to ease the press of her knees into the plush of the cushions. Solas hums in thought as she does so, contemplating her words as his thumbs stroke softly across her hips.
“Blackwall…” Lavellan trails off for a moment, her brow quirking in the way it does when she’s deep in contemplation; in the way he loves so much. “Blackwall was Valour. But Thom Rainier is Justice.”
“Who else vehnan?” He asks, curious to see what she’ll say next. This time, he catches the mischievous glint in her eyes as she opens her mouth.
“Sera would be Courage!” The look on his face must have been clear as day, not that he cared to school his expression under these circumstances. “No-don’t look at me like that!” Lavellan laughs as she taps his nose with her finger. “You know I’m right!”
Solas makes a point of trying to nip at her finger with his teeth, feeling the frown on his face crack as she shrieks and giggles above him. He lets a long suffering sigh escape him. “I suppose-”
“Aha!” She shouts, and he feels himself pout. The look on his face only seems to spur her on, her giggling devolving into laughter again. He can’t help the smile that works its way onto his face now, despite his best efforts.
“Alright!” He laughs, grasping her wrists as she tries to dig her fingers into his sides again. “Alright, vehnan! Who else?”
“Bull- he’s Purpose.”
“And what of Dorian?”
He catches himself too late, the association between the two men spurring on his line of questioning before his brain can catch up with his mouth. Unusual for him, he thinks. Solas watches as her face falls a little, laughter dying on her tongue, her smile wistful now; no longer meeting her eyes as she stares just over his shoulder.
“Learning.” She affirms quietly, nodding to herself in conformation. Solas feels a pang of guilt settling in his chest, washing over him like cold water. She’d not gotten to say goodbye to her dear friend when she’d followed him into the Fade, something he knows she still isn’t at ease with. The feeling intensifies when he realises that there’s only one member of the Inquisition’s inner circle unaccounted for.
As he peers up at her, he sees the uncertainty work its way across her face. He moves to hold her arms, steadying her as their eyes meet again. They don’t need to say Varric’s name to know that’s both who they’re thinking of. Solas watches as she swallows around the lump forming in her throat, a tear pricking at the corner of her eye before he reaches up to wipe it away.
“Oh-vehnan, ir abelas.” He speaks quietly, like she’ some suddenly some skittish halla he’s afraid of spooking. She takes a steadying breath; deep into her lungs before she releases it all in one go.
“Perseverance.” She says, the waver in her voice lilting gently as she says it. “He’d be Perseverance.” She looks back to him in that moment, and he is sure that even if it takes him another thousand lifetimes he will never be done trying to make up for all he has put her through.
As she settles herself back down into him, he wraps her in his arms and thanks whoever will listen that she still finds him a source of comfort after all this time; even when the cause of her pain was inflicted by his own hand.
They lie together for a while, his breathing falling into tandem with the now steady rise and fall of her own. The silence between them is soft, lulling, and he almost doesn’t want to break it when a thought crosses his mind that he simply must voice.
“Hope.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.
“Hm?” She's drifting now, barely registering his words.
“You’d be Hope.” He murmurs. “Ma vehnan. My hope.”
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scaryanneee · 5 months ago
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VEILPUNK 9:52 ⚡️
Narrative parallels between [and MAJOR SPOILERS for] Dragon Age: The Veilguard and Cyberpunk 2077
Wake up, Samurai, we have a Thedas to burn. Let’s play a game:
Meet [V]/[Rook]. She is living her life as a [nomad/streetkid/corpo]/[Dragon/Crow/Lord/Watcher/Warden] when circumstances (aka, some kind of fuck-up) lead her to begin a new adventure with her friend [Jackie Welles]/[Varric Tethras]. 
The pair embark on a mission that involves a history lesson about a mercurial and rebellious [rockerboy]/[ancient elven mage] who made a questionable choice [50]/[8000] years ago when he [detonated a nuclear bomb]/[created the Veil]. That decision had dire consequences, but was done with good intentions: to take down a corrupt and powerful group – the [Arasakas]/[Evanuris]. 
Anyway, the job that [V]/[Rook] is on goes really, really bad: needless to say, we won't be working with [Jackie]/[Varric] anymore. [V]/[Rook] finds herself injured but alive… and the previously mentioned grumpy old [rockerboy]/[elven god] is now living in her head, somehow?! 
[Jackie]/[Varric]’s fate is not the only consequence of [V]/[Rook]’s actions. In fact, the clock is ticking: if [V]/[Rook] does not find a way to fix her mistake soon, she faces certain death. Not to mention, she promised [Jackie]/[Varric] that she would take care of the [biochip]/[team] for him. 
As she works to undo what she has done, [V]/[Rook] either bonds with the [Johnny Silverhand]/[Solas] living in her head, or hates him, or something in between. There’s lots of snarky jabs traded between mind-resident and host, but also moments of genuine understanding that build over time. 
It is kind of weird walking around the world, though, because you see symbols of [Johnny]/[Solas]’s legacy in the form of [Samurai memorabilia]/[Fen’Harel statues] pretty much everywhere... anyway.
In an optional questline, [V]/[Rook] can watch some of [Johnny]/[Solas]’s memories. She learns that his [nuclear bomb]/[creating the Veil] was about more than just fighting [corpo]/[godly] corruption. It was also about avenging the death of a woman he cared for deeply: [Alt]/[Mythal], who was killed by the [Arasakas]/[Evanuris]. [Alt]/[Mythal] and [Johnny]/[Solas] may have had a complicated and at times turbulent relationship, but there was no doubt he loved her. There’s also no doubt that [Johnny]/[Solas] feels, in part, personally responsible for her death.
[V]/[Rook] also gets to meet some of [Johnny]/[Solas]’s old friends: [Kerry]/[Dorian] and [Nancy]/[Morrigan], who both worked alongside him in [Samurai]/[the Inquisition], and [Rogue]/[Inquisitor Lavellan], a highly competent woman who [Johnny]/[Solas] had a romantic relationship with at one point (and who [Johnny]/[Solas] regrets not having treated better). [V]/[Rook] also meets some of [Johnny]/[Solas]’s greatest enemies from his past – like [Adam Smasher]/[Elgar’nan] – and gets to make [Johnny]/[Solas] proud by kicking their asses on his behalf. 
Finally, at the very end of the game, [V]/[Rook] can choose to either redeem [Johnny]/[Solas] or condemn him. They can even get help from a version of [Alt]/[Mythal] to do so!
Roll credits.
This is all to say: I love both of these franchises very much and, so it is very delightful to find all of these parallels between them. To be very clear, this is not an accusation of stealing or anything – stories echo, history rhymes, etc. – just an affectionate observation.
BUT.
It also highlights, for me at least, a few things Cyberpunk did well that Veilguard would have benefitted from incorporating. Namely:
A prologue based on character origin, where Rook meets/bonds with Varric, like V does with Jackie
More interaction between Protagonist and Guy Living in the Protagonist’s Head
Deeper engagement with the universe’s lore, particularly the setting and its impact on our protagonist. Night City feels like another character in Cyberpunk in a way that Veilguard's Thedas really does not.
The protagonist having a smaller scale, more personal investment in the outcome of events – V’s race against the biochip is instantly understandable, and her tenacity and strong will to survive make her very easy to relate to and like. I never quite felt the same level of investment in Rook, and I think that’s in part because her fight against the gods is so enormous in scale that it feels quite impersonal at times. 
Story parallels aside, these two games are also both examples of games that were rushed through development and suffered for it. For Cyberpunk, that meant infamous technical failures; for Veilguard, that apparently means writing that is inconsistent at best and baffling at worst.
Fortunately, CD Projekt Red was able to add tons of post-release updates (and the excellent Phantom Liberty DLC) to Cyberpunk, that really helped it ultimately evolve into the game it was intended to be. 
Unfortunately, I think it is extremely unlikely that EA/Bioware will ever give Veilguard the same treatment.
But if I’m looking for something to hope for about this franchise (despite the long odds)... I think that would be it. 
Anyway, if you read this far: thanks, [chooms]/[lethallen]! 🖤
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ellssbellss · 10 months ago
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day two
prompt: firsts/comfort
@allaboutnalu - @thenaluarchive
-> word count: 3.85k, rated T for langauge
-> summary: Lucy really shouldn't be as worried as she is. Natsu can take care of himself. But she can't help it when her mind turns to the worst as she is stumbling through the forest, separated from her team. She can't help but wonder if he's alive.
.oOo.
alive
Lucy hated the outdoors. 
Okay, well, no, she didn’t. Not really. Lucy liked fresh air, the way Magnolia smelled like actual magnolias in the spring, the buds of her city’s namesake in early bloom. She liked the festivals her guild held out in the open fields, bingo and rainbow sakura trees with her friends as they sat around piles of fresh cooked foods, her favorites stacked in front of her like jenga pieces. Lucy even appreciated the hikes to her missions, even if they were forced to walk due to Natsu’s incredible motion sickness. It gave her time to clear her head, think through her plan of action when they arrived to wherever they were going, and to actually hear her inner voice for a change. 
And, of course, Lucy loved the stars. They were always glittering and majestic above her as she laid down to rest, her team beside her as the magic firelight never truly dimmed. The constellations reflected in her eyes, the connecting stars reminding her of her loyal friends who had, and forever will, fight by her side. 
But, as the celestial mage fought for breath after breath, sweat turning her blonde, manicured hair into a mustard splat on her forehead, she could say she hated it.
She hated the heat that burned into the wound on her shoulder and above her knees, and because she had three gashes and two hands, she had to choose which ones to cradle as she pushed her way through the trees. The key-holder despised the way the sun beat down on her, smiting her skin with its rays as she trudged through endless forest, the leaves seeming never ending and particularly revengeful as they smacked her when she passed. 
She hated the absence of her team, not knowing where they were after the explosion of the enemy’s base sent them flying in every direction. Natsu had done his best to hold onto her wrist as the blast came through, but the force was too great, and their exhaustion from their battles had already taken its toll. So his grip broke, and the ball of fire that was the core of their enemy’s power finally blasted out of its confinements, wedging distance between them. 
With Team Natsu scattered through every edge of the forest, Lucy had no idea where to start. 
She smacked, rolled, fell, and finally landed on ranges of mountains and dirt paths, coughing up soil and leaves while picking branches out of her hair. She thanked the wonderful, beautiful magic that swirled through her veins from her own power, making her more durable to the violences of a Fairy Tail mage’s lifestyle. And Wendy’s protection support magic didn’t hurt either. 
She had stood up in the clearing gravity decided to drop her into, and then fell immediately back onto her knees. Her hands smacked the ground as she cried, whined, cursed, whatever she wanted to do, really, until her body had released every large, frustrated emotion she had. 
Eventually, she would make a plan to go back to the town square of the city that hired them, an unspoken base for her team that had been settled long ago if they ever got separated like this, but not now. Right now, with the pain shooting through her body and the worry for her friends in her heart, she needed this. 
Then, finally taking her last shuddering breath, she stood back up, summoned Pyxis with what little magic she had so that she knew which way was east, and set on her way. 
First, Horologium had come through the gate via his own volition, sensing that Lucy’s magic power was already drained from her fights and her pain, and offered to carry her. She had nearly cried again, quickly hopping into the clock and relaxing her joints. Or her limbs. Or her eyes. Basically everything that was too sore to think about. 
But when she woke up about two hours later, dropping onto the ground with a hard smack!, she had to come to terms that she needed to walk on her own. Horologium had stayed as long as he was able, and she was grateful. But, fuck, did this suck. 
She was hurt, sweaty, grimy, and in desperate need of a bath when she got back home. 
More than ever, though, she was worried. 
Which was stupid, Lucy knew. Her team was a group of strong, almost seemingly unreal warriors who have fought greater foes than an explosion of some low-level mages. So strong that she would admire them from the cover of their shadows, not always quite knowing where she fit in. 
But they were still alone, like she was. 
They could be severely wounded. Erza could have landed on her leg wrong and broke it to pieces, or Wendy could’ve fallen onto something sharp. 
Or maybe they were scared? Gray put up a tough facade, but she knew him. He would put up an icy front, and he would fight through it, but his heart would be rapidly beating out of his chest as he turned every corner. 
And Natsu. Her heart didn’t want to think about Natsu. 
The look on his face when her hand had slipped from his nearly wrecked her. He called her name, the sound twisting with the way she called his, and it echoed across the chasms of the forest. Her name was cracked on his lips as he took the blunt of the explosion, pulling her out of the way and behind him the best he could. But there hadn’t been time. 
And now, he was lost somewhere to her. 
“Someone remind me to kick him when I find him.” She mumbled to herself, gritting her teeth as she lugged herself up an incline. For putting her health before his own, again. 
For making her worry about him, again. 
She really shouldn’t be. The pink-haired man bragged about being raised by Igneel in the woods. Everything that they needed to survive, they forged and hunted for, but only needed each other to be truly satisfied. Natsu was brought up in the most unlikely circumstances, and, somewhere along the way, that spirit of chaos and uncertainty bled into his bones like wildfire, shaping his DNA into a constant state of anarchy. 
It also embedded a natural survival instinct into him, one that has never steered him wrong before. The forest was his home, and deep down, Lucy knew it still was. He could never truly be hurt, or broken, or even dead. No, not in the place that raised him. 
Lucy raised her palm and wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks. 
Damn it, he was fine! He’s Natsu, her Natsu! He’s Salamander, one of Fairy Tail’s strongest wizards, son of Igneel. Natsu was E.N.D, the brother of a dark wizard, destroyer of evil. 
Natsu is the man who brought her to Fairy Tail, her teammate, her partner. He…he sneaks into her bed, and eats her food. He protects her to a fault, but never lets her do that same for him. He just smiles that crooked grin of his, calls her ‘Luce’ and always looks on the bright side to everything. He brings her warmth whenever she has none, and he makes sure it stays, no matter how hard it might be. 
And she needed that. More and more each day, she came to rely on it, on him and who he was until she couldn’t imagine her life any other way. She didn’t want to. The celestial mage would do everything she could not to lose her dragonslayer because she needed him.
She needed to see him, to hold him, to kick him until he apologized for driving her absolutely crazy with worry. However she could have Natsu, she knew she would need him until her last breath. 
Through tears, she spots the arch to the townsquare, the circular walls around the marketplace acting like gates to heaven as they towered over the endless forest. Breathing a sigh of relief, she forced herself to push. No matter how tired she was after the hours of walking, how much her exhausted heart sputtered in her chest, Lucy dragged her ass under that arch and leaned against the cool stone with her good shoulder. 
Her eyes slid over every detail of the spherical square, the walls lined with apartment buildings and bakeries, restaurants and shops. Then, concentrically, it melted into carts or wagons, then into one fountain in the middle. 
Hastily, she looked for bursts of red, blue, black and pink, her anxiety spiking when she saw none. She checked every entrance into the square, an arch posted at each of the four corners of the world. But, from where she rested, she couldn’t see a single sign of her friends, of her family, and it made her want to scream until her throat gave out. 
Limping, she began to ask the citizens. A pretty blonde girl, dragging her feet as she clutched her arms and knees, speaking through tears as she waves them down. “Excuse me! Please, have you seen a scary lady with red hair? Like blood?” 
The mother tucked her daughter behind her back. 
“No, no, sorry.” The celestial mage did her best to smile, but by this family’s reaction, she probably had something in her teeth. “Have you seen a young girl, then? Blue hair? We were out in the woods, and we were fighting, and she got away from me.”
The woman took an offended breath, squeezing her daughter's arm. Lucy’s eyes widened.
“No! No, not like that! I’m just looking for my friends!” The key-holder pleaded, trying again as she gestured an inch above her head. “What about a grumpy guy this tall, hm? He uses ice magic, wears a necklace, and…uh, oh! He was probably stripping! He has a bad habit, especially when he’s stressed, so he was probably just–
“Listen, lady, if you don’t back away from me, I’m going to call the police–”
Lucy just shook her head. “It’s not what it sounds like, I swear. Just please, have you seen–”
“Get away from us.” The mother hisses and promptly turns around, giving Lucy a concerned look as she practically sprints away. 
“No!” Lucy calls out to her, hobbling forward. “Have you seen a pink haired dragon guy who breathes fire?” The mother didn’t respond, only walking faster. “Oh! He has a talking cat!”
And, the lady was gone. 
Groaning, Lucy dug the heels of her hands into the sockets of her eyes. She had to find them before she actually went crazy. Swallowing, she tried to control the panic in her chest, the way it slammed into her sternum with each stuttering breath. 
God, it wasn’t working. She inhaled again, shaky and wet as she wiped her cheek on the back of her hand and looked up to the sky. The sun blurred into the sky as she noted that nothing would really calm her down. Not until she found them, not until she found–
“Lucy!”
Gasping, that voice struck chords in her heartstrings, the volume of it making her jump as she turned around. 
Through the rippling water of the fountain, Lucy saw Natsu sniffing the air, gaze intense and focused as he gripped the side of the west arch with so much force, the stone was cracking. Happy was resting on his head, a hand over his eyes as he looked far and wide, his wings hanging by his side weakly. 
Lucy met eyes with the cat first, and she had never been more Happy to see that stupid feline. His eyes nearly lit up, and he jumped up and down on Natsu’s head, pointing and waving at his blonde friend. 
“Natsu! She’s right there! It’s Lucy!” 
Natsu’s eyes immediately snapped to hers, onyx meeting brown through the bubbling current of the fountain, and he slumped, his grip easing off the stone arch. 
“Natsu!” She called, her voice cracking with fatigue. “Happy!” 
She didn’t know who started it, but they were running. Her feet made the same trip as the sun, starting in the east only to finish in the west as she called out their names, ignoring the strange looks they were getting or the pain that had tormented her on her journey back to them. Everything else just blurred around her, becoming background noise to her want, her need to have him again. 
Happy made it to her first, his weak wings barely lifting him into the air as he stopped her at the fountain, his flight path taking a crash landing into her chest. She curled her arms around him tight, holding the cat close enough that his fur tickled under her chin. He shook against her, and she scratched that space behind his ear that calmed him down, feeling his crocodile tears on her skin. 
“Lushee!” Happy squealed against her collarbone, and she released him so that he could breathe, his wings barely lifting him in the air. “We were so worried!”
“You were?” She panted, swallowing her emotion. She hadn’t even wondered if they were thinking about her. Lucy had only focused on Natsu’s well-being. 
“‘Course we were.” Husk and smoke filled the space around her as Natsu seized her shoulders, dark eyes turning to emerald in the sun as he stared at her. “Luce, what happened? You okay?”
He was in front of her. Really in front of her. His hands, calloused and scarred, gripped her sweat-slicked skin with a fervor, and his gaze truly lingered on her scrapes and bruises that were visible on her person. 
Natsu’s pink hair was really catching sunlight so perfectly, that it made the strands seem more blush than salmon, and his guild mark on his shoulder was actually rippling over his skin as he asked her again, shaking her slightly to get her to focus back in. 
Her partner was here, in front of her. And he was hurt. 
“Lucy,” The fire wizard repeated sharply. “Are you–”
“Am I okay?” She gasped, finally seeing the marks and scratches that littered his skin, bruises starting to form on his biceps and over his knuckles. She broke from his grip on her shoulder, holding his palm in her own, tracing the damage with her fingertip. 
“Look at you! Your hands, Natsu.” She whined, turning his palms in her grip. “They must be fractured at least.” Experimentally, she pressed down on one, watching his face carefully. “Does it hurt when I do this? Or when I pull it this way?”
“Oi! Mavis, don’t pull it like that, Luce! The hell are you thinking?” He says, ripping his hands from her grasp. “It’s fine, just a sprain. What about–”
“And your chest! What happened to you?” The celestial wizard exclaimed, running her hands over a large slice across his pectorals. It wasn’t as deep as some other wounds she had seen, but it was definitely worrisome, and the dried blood around it only made her anxiety spike. “Did you land on something? Was it one of the wizards you fought?”
“No, no, I hit a tree when I fell, and the branch cut me.” He pushed away her prodding hands, gripping her wrists in a pleading gesture. “You have scrapes all over you, I need to know–”
“Your face, Natsu.” Natsu’s voice was nice, but it was drowning over the beat of her heart when she saw his busted lip and the scratches on his cheek, dirt freckling over the line of his jaw. Her hand went to touch his bottom lip, mindlessly pulling the skin there with her thumb so see the depth. “Did you land on your face? Are you okay? Does your head hurt? When Wendy gets here, we need to make sure–”
“Lucy!” Her pale hand on his lip was seized with a firm grasp, and she was forced to follow its path as he placed her hand on his cheek, the sunkissed skin under her touch flaming and soiled. 
Natsu’s other hand brought her gaze to his, his touch gentle but firm as he guided her to his gaze. “Shut up for one second, you’re talkin’ too much and I’m tryna ask you a goddamn question.”
Lucy felt him squeeze the hand that was against his face, like a silent apology for interrupting her with harsh language. But his voice was ragged, and his stare was enough to effectively shut her up. 
“I’m fine. I may not look it, but nothin’ is too deep or too painful enough to where I can’t fight through it. I have a cut across my chest, my shoulder blade is shot, and I’m sure there are a million other things I’m missin’ that I just haven’t found yet.”
His hand let her go, and now both his palms framed her face, bringing her closer. “What about you?” Natsu asked slowly, fiercely emphasizing each syllable. “I smell blood on ya’ Luce, and you look like you just crawled through hell. I need you to tell me if you’re okay, but you keep interrupting me every five damn seconds.”
The dragonslayer's wounded chest was panting, his clothes ripped and torn just like her’s were, she was sure. But she was speechless. She just stared into his eyes, the desperation swirling in them making her lose all sense of where she was, what she was doing. 
It had never occurred to her that all the time she spent worrying about him, he was worried for her as well. 
Natsu shook her again. “C’mon, Luce, you gotta work with me! Where does it hu–”
“I’m fine!” Snapping out of her trance, she smiles wetly, and Natsu looks like she’s grown two heads. “I’m-I’m banged up, but I’m okay.”
“What’re you smilin’ for?” He asks, and the hands on her head turn her skull on her neck, clearly searching for some kind of brain injury. “Happy, I think she hit her head too hard.”
“Stop it, Natsu!” She shoves him back slightly, but it still laughing, her cheeks hurting from her grin, and probably a sunburn. “I’m okay, I’m alive!”
Those eyes zero in on her. 
She puts his hand over her heart. “I’m alive, and so are you. Even though we got separated, we both made it back here in one piece.” 
“You’re alive.” Natsu repeats, swallowing, the hand on her chest tightening. 
She holds it there. “You are, too.”
Natsu looks at her for a long moment before his busted up face, bleeding and splintered, breaks out into the brightest smile she’s ever seen. Lucy kicked herself for being so scared that she’d never see it again. 
“We’re alive!” He cheered, shouting into the townsquare, jumping around as a tired, battered Happy sat on the fountain, raising his own arms weakly in support. 
Natsu pumped his fists, chanting and drawing attention to their spot as he spun, and Lucy bathed in his happiness. “We’re alive, and Lucy’s alive, and nothing will ever tear us down!” 
Natsu comes back to her, and brings her into his celebration. Despite both of their injuries, he scoops her up in the tightest hug imaginable, his defined arms wrapping around her waist and twirling her in the air. She was startled at first as her sore feet left the ground, gripping onto his shoulders to balance herself. 
But his hold was assuring, and he just couldn’t stop smiling about how he was here with her, and she relaxed. Instead, Lucy threw her head back and called out to the townspeople who were surely staring at them already. 
“You hear that?” Her tired voice carried over the cobblestones, laughing into the open sky. “We’re alive!”
She looked down to see that he was already looking at her, his chin on her chest as he kept her in the air. 
His crooked, wide, real smile washed over her in fiery waves, and his arms felt so assuring as they folded themselves around her waist. She knew he would never drop her, never let her fall, never leave her without a fight. 
And, Mavis, she couldn’t help what she did next. Nothing could’ve stopped her from cupping her hands over his cheekbones again, her thumbs supporting the line of his jaw, and pulling his lips to hers. 
She had to lean down a great deal, keep his chin tilted towards hers, but she got there. Slotting her lips over his full ones under such a rush of adrenaline, she forgot about his busted lip. The taste of iron flooded into her mouth, but she ignored it over the sparks that shot down her spine as she kissed him, her fingers moving to thread through his hair and bring him closer. 
His arms around her tightened in what she could only assume to be shock. She silenced his cheers enough to hear the bubbling of the fountain next to them, and felt his sharp intake of breath. But her adrenaline was too high to stop, to go back to a life without his lips on hers. So as long as he wasn’t pushing her away, she would selfishly kiss him until he did. 
And he wasn’t. Instead, she felt herself being slowly lowered to the ground, their lips still connected as their bodies dragged against each other, clothes rumpling between them. One of her toes touched the ground as she was delicately placed back onto her feet, erasing the feeling of weightlessness she’d been feeling. 
Apparently, her courage left with it. 
Lucy pulled back, her brown eyes wide over blushing cheeks as she loosened her grip on his locks, immediately looking for her partner's reaction while screaming on the inside. 
His eyes had closed at some point, and they were still shut when she backed away a little, as much as she could with his arms still wrapped around her. But then they opened, and she swallowed at his dilated pupils, eyes dazed as he looked down at her. 
“What…” Natsu spoke first, hushed breath scraping over gravel, and she tensed under his hold. “What was that?”
Swallowing, she wanted to retreat, wanted to actually go back into that forest and hide in those vengeful leaves. “A, uh, a kiss.”
Her first kiss, and probably his too. Their first kiss. 
The corners of his lips, the same pair that had fit so perfectly against hers, quirked up. “I know that, weirdo.” He cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “But what was it for?”
“I…I don’t know.” Lucy sputtered, her hands moving down to the base of his throat. “It just…felt right, I guess.” 
Her heart was beating too loudly, and she knew he heard it as she looked at him with uncertainty. 
But then one of his hands that had an iron lock on her waist trailed up her side, holding her face in his palm. 
“Okay.” He said, simply, before pulling her back in and kissing her with more confidence, giving her ample time to embroider her fingers back through his hair. 
Her body arched into him, and they kissed at their meeting point, gingerly avoiding the injuries and tender bruises they had suffered to get back to each other. 
But she was alive. And, at this moment, she had never felt more like it. 
thank you for reading! see you tomorrow!
day one | day three
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