anewarisen

[anewarisen]

(Battle couple is just my fav ship dynamic)

[anewarisen]

choose your kaimei flavor

[anewarisen]

You know, one of the things that always delights me about Beau and Caleb, library addicts and research extraordinaires, is how very, very different their approach to research is, because their motivations for doing research diverge on a fundamental level. Beau The Expositor does research as a detective or historian–sifting through information to find hidden truths, to untangle webs of motivations. Caleb The Wizard is more of a utilitarian–he researches how things work so that he can create assets for himself and the party. Or more simply– when confronted with the mysterious, Beau asks, “Why?” and Caleb asks, “How?” Because of this they end up having unique niches in any given investigation the M9 undertake–and their teamwork is crucial to their success so far.

The first time I noticed this and was very pleased was watching how they responded to the abyssal anchors. The same artifacts, and the moment Caleb collects one in the well, he examines it, wondering what it is, how it works, how to activate it, would this be useful for me/the party to use?  After finding this information and deciding that, sadly, this is not currently  a useful item to add to the party’s toolkit, he largely loses interest in future research. Beau, however, here and even moreso when finding an Anchor in the mountains, takes Caleb’s information and begins obsessing over the question of why–why are they being planted, who is doing the planting, what is the big picture here? She takes notes, she urges the pivotal scrying, she theorizes and tries to test her theories on any scrap of information she can find. She is invested in figuring out the truth of how these things came to be where they are, in a way that Caleb, content to go along with whatever Beau is theorizing at the moment, just isn’t.

The question of the dodecahedrons (and the Krynn writ large) is pretty similar–Caleb spent a significant amount of time studying the dodecahedron they had and the Luxon it was tied to in order to find out how it worked, and specifically how it could be useful to him and the others in the party. He researched the culture of the Krynn only insofar as he believed it would assist the M9 in making a diplomatically good appearance. But once the question arises of whether the dodecahedron offered by the Empire is legitimate, Beau is the one sifting through records, fact-checking the claim it was unearthed at Pride’s Call, examining ancient history to try to suss out whether the Bright Queen or Dwendal’s claims about the nature of the war are more accurate than the other’s. Meanwhile Caleb is busy with his latest magical project–a tool to help Nott achieve her goals. 

[anewarisen]

His Truth | Albedo x Sucrose HC & Oneshot (ish)

Using the hc that Albedo is a homunculus, but the nature of this creature ranges across works of fiction I’ve seen, so the rest is based on my own interpretations;;

These two may be brainy in their respective fields of study, but romance is an entirely new ballpark for both of them

They’re both complete dorks when it comes to “wooing” a special someone, and are too shy to admit their feelings. At least for Sucrose, anyway. Albedo’s feelings are a bit more complicated, as he questions whether or not his feelings are even real.

Albedo isn’t human. His feelings aren’t human. It wouldn’t be fair to let Sucrose grow so close to him. It would only be a matter of time before he would lose control, losing whatever “self” he had managed to develop over the years.

At first, Albedo treated Sucrose like everyone else- slightly distant, but with respect. However, over time, he grew fonder of the other alchemist, of her devotion to alchemy and her sweet personality. Over and over, he’d insist that she could drop the “Mister”, but she never seemed to listen. It was this pressure, of Sucrose respecting him so much, that made him all the more convinced that she shouldn’t grow close to him. The real him wasn’t who she thought he was.

Keep reading

[anewarisen]

albedo: i’m incredibly fast at math.

sucrose: alright, what’s 30x17?

albedo: 47

sucrose: that’s not even close.

abedo: but it was fast.

[anewarisen]

“Echoing Words” Alberose Comic

[anewarisen]

Natalie Sancoeur is an interesting character to me because, though I may be overthinking, she is a strange foil to Marinette.

Design wise, Natalie and Marinette have similar hair and eye colors, and not to mention their relationships to their Agrestes. Except one is clothed in red and the other is blue.

In her dynamic with Gabriel, she's the Chat Noir, who's willing to support Gabriel to the end, at her own health's expense. Like she MIRRORS Chat's self sacrificing tendencies. Unlike Marinette, who takes charge, she stays at the sidelines, having Gabriel's back.

In a weird way, her relationship with Hawkmoth is a stark contrast to Adrien's and Marinette's. How long has Nathalie known? They form a picture of a partnership that ISN'T shrouded in secrecy. It's strange how the two seem to trust each other enough and care about each other to some extent. Their teamwork is also shown on more than one occasion to be quite powerful.

That's all I had to say on this but do y'all think this is somewhat intentional?

#miraculous ladybug #natalie sancoeur #gabriel agreste #miraculous marinette #adrien agreste #gabenath

[anewarisen]

Can you write some hurt/comfort jeanluc (Jean x Diluc) where it takes place after Diluc is sexually assaulted and Jean hears that Diluc is injured (based off the injuries in the post you made about them) so she goes to visit him and he tells her what happened? Maybe she stays there with him for a while and comforts him and helps him around with his injuries?

Good......... Here u go

[[ WARNING: INJURY, TALK OF RAPE, ANGST ]]

[[ Summary: Barbara, innocently enough, tells Jean that Diluc had come to the Cathedral, but the other sisters' wouldn't let her near... Jean ends up going to see what happened, only for something she couldn't have imagined being the truth.

Word Count: 3'552 ]]

A rare few moments, where Jean and Barbara rested peacefully near each other--Barbara was reading some book, and Jean was writing some paperwork of someone who she arrested under...

Dubious conditions.

"You know," Barbara said, eyes not off of her book, "I saw Diluc just a day or two back."

"Oh yeah?" Jean asked, she had wanted to speak with him about... Many things. But she knew she couldn't, he was likely in a lot of pain, still.

"He was brought to the Cathedral..." Barbara lifted her head, looking at nothing, "The other Sisters wouldn't let me see him... And made me leave."

Jean froze, staring blankly forward, before jerking her head to look at her sister.

"Do you know why?"

Barbara looked at her, all sweetness and innocence, "They said that they couldn't teach me... Too many wounded. I wish I could help, but... I guess I can't."

"Was Diluc wounded?" Jean asked, nearly jumping up from her seat.

"Huh? Oh... Actually, probably. I didn't see him, but... I don't think he was standing..." Suddenly, her expression was quite shocked, "I... I guess I didn't think about it... "

There was an awkward silence.

"... Are you... Going to go see him?" Barbara asked.

... how could she not? But how could she abandon her sister, who was the world to her?

"No, I promised I'd spend today with you."

Jean smiled, but it was all pain and lies.

The guilt--of both making her sister worry, and not going to find the truth about Diluc, ate at her all day...

She did her best to try and enjoy the little time with her sister, giving her a hug before bed...

And she sat, finishing some forgotten paperwork until she figured Barbara was asleep, grabbed an overcoat, and found her way to the Cathedral, ignoring the bitter winds and sharp rain pounding down on her, slipping inside, and shutting the door as quickly as she could, gasping for air from the battle.

"Ah, Miss Gunnhildr," Jean jumped at the sudden voice, spinning around to see Sister Victoria looking at her, more than a little exhausted, and somewhat spooked.

"Greetings, Sister," Jean nodded respectfully, "I... Apologize for coming in at this hour, but..."

There was a silence hanging between both of them, a moment of painful hesitation.

"I had... Heard that... Sir Ragnvindr had... Been... Brought to the Cathedral under... Dubious conditions. I wanted to see what... I would like to understand the full situation." She explained, finally.

"Well..." Sister Victoria hesitated, "He is alive." But not well. If a sister did not mention wellness, it meant something awful. "He has been under intensive care for the past two days," she said, rather blunt compared to her past words.

"Intensive-" Jean echoed. "Intensive care?"

Sister Victoria looked as though she was ready to cry. "Well, the sisters are in disbelief of what he, uhm, claims to have happened, as well as I will not betray his trust in us." She said, honestly, "He has not been accepting visitors, and does not want his presence of being in the Cathedral known."

Victoria was a smart woman. She knew Jean was one of the three... Two, two people alive who could possibly get to Diluc, with how, especially as of late, he has made his mind into a fortress, every door barred and locked, windows nailed closed with wooden planks and massive bookshelves keeping them sealed...

Only three people had been able to jimmy the locks, wiggle enough room to find their way in, and to find Diluc, sobbing alone within, to console his true self.

There were now two, and Jean was one, even if she did not have half the freedom to his 'fortress' as Kaeya may.

"Would you ask him," she said, cautiously, "If he is willing to see me and me alone?"

Sister Victoria smiled weakly, "Of course. Please, wait a moment."

Jean nodded, with a smile that faded into pure despair as she was out of sight... She was tired, so she opted to walk to the backmost pew, and sat down, her head in her hands, arms propped up with elbows on her legs...

...

Diluc, do you not trust me?

Did you not even tell Kaeya?

Do you just want to suffer alone?

...

"You know, Diluc isn't as strong of a man as you'd think."

Jean jumped with a gasp, jerking to look at the woman next to her--a sister, Rosaria if memory holds.

"I," she swallowed thickly, "Please don't scare me like that."

Rosaria took a long drag of her cigarette, and blew it in the opposite direction of Jean, "I was always sitting here. You just came and sat next to me." She said plainly, her eyes dead as she stared right at her...

Jean wondered, for a moment, was she truly always there, or trying to toy with her in this moment of vulnerability...

But then her initial words hit her, and Jean was not offended--she was angry.

"Diluc is the strongest person I know--" she hesitated for a moment, as though trying to get a breath of air from simply forgetting to breathe, "Maybe the strongest person in Mondstadt." She finally said, finding herself much more stiff and poised than before.

Rosaria, carelessly, looked at the cigarette in her hand, toying with it, before setting it near her lips, and speaking, "Do you think he's strong all the time, then?" She then finally put it between her lips, and inhaled.

"N-No, no, of course not," she felt... weak. She was so tired, but she wasn't about to let someone slander him when... When he was already so bad off. "No one's strong all the time, but when he is strong, no one can compare."

Rosaria froze, the cigarette away from her mouth but smoke in her lungs... she exhaled, and it huffed through her nostrils, like a comedic depiction of an angry bull... but instead of being angry, her expression was less frozen and harsh, more... appeased.

"Maybe you actually do know the man, rather than just idolize him like that Donna girl.. " she said, a slight, sly smile on her features. "You want to know what happened to him, don't you?"

Jean was more baffled than anything, was this a test? To her own... friend? Mentor?

She didn't know what Diluc was to her anymore, but she knew that if he were to launch a revolution to put Vennessa to shame, she would be the first to stand beside him, no matter what.

"I do," she said, genuinely, "I'm scared for him."

Rosaria nodded, slowly, "You should be. He was weak around the wrong people, at the wrong time..."

She sighed, softly, looking away from Jean, at nothing in particular, if only to avoid the agony Jean's face may send... but then she snapped her head back at her,

"He was raped. Brutally. Men, women, he has no idea how many people were there, but not an inch of him was left clean." Jean had to fight herself from gagging at the image, but Rosaria continued anyway, "Bleeding from every hole, cuts on the most painful of places..." She grabbed Jean's jaw, roughly, "Can barely even speak from how they busted his jaw."

Her hand fell off of Jean's face, and slowly trailed back to fold over her own chest.

"No one was there he could trust when he was weak," she stubbed the last of her cigarette into the seat of the wooden pew, "And so he trusted people who used his trust against him, in desperation. And now, all the sisters are sitting here," she gestured to the pews, "Calling him a sexual deviant, who doesn't know how to tell the truth. Bitches, all of them." Rosaria declared, before standing up straight.

A little stunned at such behavior from a sister herself, but...

"... Did he," Jean asked, "Did he tell you to tell me?"

She let out a huff of laughter, "He's rather die than let anyone know of his pain."

A horrible sickness hit her, of course, she knew he was like that, but...

...

It was too late for regrets. This was between Rosaria and Diluc, for telling Jean.

"... Thank you," Jean looked up but, suddenly, Rosaria wasn't... There. Just disappeared into thin air.

Jean stood, looking around for the woman, or any hint that she was ever there... But no, not even the faintest marks on the ground, only some slightly wet bootprints Jean herself had, unintentionally, tracked in.

"Miss Gunnhildr?" A soft voice asked, and Jean turned her head to see Sister Victoria once again, "He... Is willing to see you. But, I..."

She looked so afraid,

"I must warn you, due to his, uhm, injuries, he is majorly unable to speak." She moved her hand to her jaw, "He can barely move his jaw more than a single fingers width."

Jean nodded, with a smile, "That's fine. I don't think I'm going to do much beyond sit beside him."

"That may be for the best," Victoria admitted, "This way."

It felt like the walk was far too long, to a small hallway with no more than four doors branching from the sides, and one at the very end. However, the room they turned to was the first on the left, and Diluc was in the bed, on his side, curled up in fetal position. How... weak he looked.

Was this what Rosaria meant...?

"Sir Ragnvindr, Miss Gunnhildr is here... I'll give you two your time."

Sister Victora had left as soon as she came, the door clicking shut softly, and Diluc and Jean remained there, in the deafening silence.

Jean took in the scene before her, the flashes of the disgusting images Rosaria forced into her mind blurring the true sight of Diluc before her.

...

How much he feel, to endure such a thing? She was being selfish.

Finally, the silence was shattered gently, like when a pebble had hit a massive pane of glass, and despite the soft click, it was followed by harsh cracking, and a web of cracks covering the pane, destroying it, but keeping it present as a broken entity.

Her footsteps were light on the ground, and she walked to the side of his bed he faced, and pulled a chair over, sitting in it, her hands on her lap, sitting resolute as she looked over him.

His eyes were closed. One arm was bandaged, likely broken from the casting around it, and his other arm was lifted to cover his face, almost bracing his own head from Jean's presence...

It reminded her of when she was in Liyue, briefly, and an earthquake struck, how many had fallen to the ground and shielded their heads with their arms.

It really hurt to see.

She reached over gently, and with the lightest touch she could, she grabbed his hand, trying to pry it away, so she could see his face. Even from his best attempt at obscuring himself, he could see that there were countless bandages, one eye covered, black blue bruising peeking out from underneath, and the bandages even covered much of his scalp, and wrapped around his jaw...

... Probably from whatever they did to him.

However, she didn't let go of Diluc's hand, keeping it as a reassuring presence, admittedly, more for herself than Diluc.

... But that's not what he needed. Likely, the Sisters had his hands on him endlessly, his body too weak to fight as his mind went in endless circles, eating itself alive with each and every movement.

Was it right? To bring up what he endured?

...

He deserved to know that she knew. She had no intention of sharing it, not even to Kaeya, unless Diluc requested her to deliver the news in his stead.

"Diluc," She said, pulling her hand from Diluc's, and petting his hair gently. How funny--he adored his hair, was so protective. Were she anyone else, even in this state, he would grab her wrist and force it away with an evil glare.

A smile appeared on her lips, oh, but the sight of seeing him like this forced it away all too quickly.

"I know you were... raped." She needed to say it as it was, there was no use in pretending it was anything less, "And I believe you. I only know what I've been told, but for now, I will believe that you were raped, and hurt. If you tell me otherwise, I will believe that instead."

And there it was, how he was hiding from her, curled up so tightly, it all finally unwound. His arm was no longer shielding his head, but it flopped to the bed, his body still curled in on itself, but his muscles weren't fighting the pain to remain tightly bound within himself, instead he had gone limp like a corpse.

But, luckily, his breathing seemed better, too. Actually--it was almost like he was gasping, she could hear how he roughly inhaled through his nostrils, lips sealed tight. He was very much alive, but...

...

A little bit of snot trickling down, and his one exposed eye was teary. The other--the bandage, it was slightly wet. Even with a bloody, bruised eye, it still shed tears.

His lips quivered, but his jaw didn't open--in his throat, there was the sound of muffled whines.

He was in so much pain, so much agony, he could not even sob.

Jean was unsure how she was going to survive this pain, watching him in such horrible misery. if she thought, for a second, that he may end up dying from this, and there was no other option, she would slice his throat herself and leave Mondstadt eternally, only her little sister in tow, should she wish to follow.

But, no, somehow it was worse, she had to watch him in this state, with complete unknowing if he was to survive, or if his soul was to survive.

Trauma broke people, turning them into husks of human beings.

It was a fate worse than death, to see and to exist with.

She looked around, and saw a box of tissues, reaching over and pulling it closer, and tugging one out, doing her best to wipe away anything that may cause him discomfort, tossing it away quickly.

He knew, he knew she knew... And he only continued to cry, not even to cry, to pathetically whimper, unable to do more from what his body was enduring. She had... she had heard horror stories, of women who were captured by Treasure Hunters, bandits, fiends and villains, left nearly dead...

But it was so much more real than any story could be, to see Diluc like this.

She tried to tuck his bangs--his hair was a mess overall--out of his face, only for it to fall back in the way. Unexpectedly, his hand grabbed her wrist, snatching it up with shocking agility...

And slowly, so slowly, she could realize how cold he was, how pale he was... He must've been suffering from blood loss.

He pressed her hand to his face, and she slowly shifted, making her hand a little less stiff and harsh, and he nuzzled into it weakly, barely moving, she couldn't even see him move, but rather felt it against her palm.

"Hmp... Huh... hurts," He finally voices, through tightly pursed lips--how he must've fought to speak this single word, a confession to her, to her alone.

Of course it hurts, anyone with eyes could see it, but it meant more, much more than the word he truly said.

I'm afraid, I'm scared and it hurts, it hurts so bad I can't handle it, I'm so scared.

Diluc, after all, was not a poet. He could write the sweetest verses and the most heartbreaking poems... But he could not speak up, truly better with the pen than with his voice. His voice spoke little, but meant so, so very much.

Only one other could understand this. The only other who was more deserving to be beside Diluc in this time than she herself.

But he wasn't there. He might never come be by his side like this, and he may never know.

"I know," She said, softly, "I don't know your pain, I know it's-it's horribly and terrifying and crippling... But I don't need to know that--I know that I'll be beside you as long as you'll have me."

He huffed out a sob, only to tense, and she froze, looking over his body--he was entirely tense, his body a little less curled up on itself, but frozen like he had just been shocked.

...

Oh, oh no, he hurt himself, his sob, his expression of pain, hurt him.

If she had any less self control, she'd want to be screaming in pain too... But she knew that her pain was nothing compared to Diluc's internal or external pain, much less both combined.

"it's okay," Gently, she ran her fingertips over his exposed skin, minding to be delicate, and he made a low whine, deep in his throat, "I promise."

Suddenly, Diluc had a tighter grip on her wrist, and pulled it almost to his shoulder, and once again, he tensed, electrified with the pain he caused himself. She jerked forward with shock, and looked down at his face, seeing one eye [ bloodshot as it was, with deathly dark rings under it ],

"Hey," she reassured, "Don't pull... Can you say anything? Tell me what you need?"

She felt so, so horribly cruel for asking this... but... she needed something. Assuming what he needed could end in catastrophy.

"Cl...cluh....ooh...sssshhh..."

"... Cluh... Close?" She asked, and, minutely, he nodded.

He wanted her close--Oddly. He was never a touchy person, even with her, but... It figures, when he is so weak and afraid, he must want comfort.

"Can you squeeze my wrist?" She asked, softly, "Squeeze for a second, and I'll get closer. Then let go when I'm close enough, okay?"

She shifted to get on her knees, thinking she'd have to have her upper half on the bed...

He squeezed her wrist, so she rested her free arm on the bed, and looked up at him.

Another squeeze.

She tried to get a little bit closer, even in the dim room, she could see how thin he looked in this moment.

Another squeeze.

Carefully, she lifted herself off her knees, and sat on the bed, seeing him tense in pain from the shift... She nearly moved, but--

Another squeeze, nearly painful from the sudden force, but it must've been so much for him, for it ended so quickly.

"Uhm," She looked over the bed, thinking, "Do you... want me to lie down? Squeeze if yes."

Another, brief but powerful squeeze.

...

She couldn't help but smile, even when she wanted to cry.

Slowly, she moved so slowly, taking her arm back, and he whined,

"I can't lie down if you hold my arm." She said, simply, and he huffed out of his nostrils... Pouting, pouting at a time like this?

A wave of relief flooded her heart.

She tried to be slow, and finally, she found her way onto the bed--it wasn't particularly large, and the railing dug into her back, but if he could endure this pain, she could endure some discomfort. She was on her side, eye-to-eye with Diluc, and he just stared at her, his eye wide...

...

But there was no fear, and that, too, was a wave of relief.

His hand found its way to her hip, touched only momentarily, and then kept searching...

And found her wrist.

And he squeezed again.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to get closer, Diluc."

He squeezed again, in three pulses.

He wasn't going to let this go, when he wanted something, he would always get it. He was a very determined person.

So, she shifted gently, and he too moved, a few moments where he was stunned by pain, and he turned his head a bit to look upwards, as his head rested on her chest, her arm now used as his pillow, he curled up to her... As close as humanly possible.

With the hand that was not used as a pillow, she moved it to his back, running up and down, and he sighed softly through his nostrils...

"Sleep," She said, softly, "I promise, I'll be here when you wake up, okay?"

He made a whine-like noise, and turned his face to bury it in her chest--again, were it anyone but Diluc, she may think he was being... well, a pervert.

But he wasn't. She knew he wasn't, he was simpler than that, only seeking warmth, softness, and comfort. So terribly complex, but also so terribly simple.

That's what she loved about him, after all.

After many long moments, Jean's own exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, his breathing slowed again... he didn't move, but he breathed steadily.

Tired. How tired he must've been.

She craned her neck a little awkwardly, hesitating... and pressed a kiss atop his head, before she finally closed her eyes, only to just barely miss the smile that formed on his own face...

...

It'd be awhile before she could get the full story, but...

If he could act like this now, then in the end, he would be okay.

Somehow.

[anewarisen]

The Most Aggressive of Cupids

Childe is such an overprotective boyfriend that he would glare down anyone who might get Lumine’s interest and set them up with someone else.

And, worse part is, most of the time, he’s spot on with his matchmaking.

Albedo: Ah, Traveler. May I borrow your time for a–

Childe, pushing Sucrose over: HEY, CHALK BOY. YOUR ASSISTANT NEEDS YOUR HELP!

Sucrose: o///o C-Childe, what are you–?!

Diluc: Lumine, there you are. Listen, I ne–

Childe, grabbing Diluc by the collar and tossing him towards Jean: WHOOPS, YOUR KOUHAI’S CALLING! GO HELP HER!

Jean: W-wait, what?! I didn’t–

Xiao: Traveler, though I normally wouldn’t ask help from a human, I must ask–

Childe, yeeting Xiao towards Ganyu: ALRIGHT, DEMON BOY. YOU. COCOGOAT. NOW.

Ganyu: C-Coco… what?

Zhongli: Ah, Traveler, there you are. Would you like to–

Childe, holding his melee weapons and glaring: I’m giving you three options. You can either A) mourn over your dead wife, B) go to Ningguang and confirm she either is or isn’t your dead wife, or C) I will slice you in half and cut that stupid-ass ponytail off.

Lumine: ajax bby i love you but wtf when did u become such an aggressive cupid

he’s not concerned about chongyun, xingqiu, bennet, kaeya, or venti tho. he has a hunch that bennet will be perfectly fine with barbara, kaeya has made it clear that lumine is his surrogate younger sister, and chongyun and xingqiu are… uh… doing their own thing *nudge nudge wink wink*

[anewarisen]

One of the greatest things about Beau and Yasha’s relationship is that the most impactful moments aren’t big, grand gestures. They’re quiet. Often when the other doesn’t even know about it. 

Beau losing sleep, tossing and turning, waiting for lightning.

Yasha human shielding Beau when she was unconscious. Saving her from death.

Beau smiling and nodding from a distance on the beach, as Yasha played the harp, using the strings as her therapy.

Yasha staying behind to speak to Beau’s father, telling him how proud he should be of her, and how important she should be to him.

Beau deciding to respectfully step away once she found out about Zuala, and leaving the ball in Yasha’s court, just in case what she was feeling for Yasha was reciprocated.

Those small gestures have led to an understanding between the two of them. A quiet, watching, waiting, respectful understanding. The understanding that Yasha wrote about in her letter. Because while many people can look at Beau and call her a strong and capable person, Yasha can go a step further and tell Beau that she’s noticed the way in which she loves. While many can see Yasha for her powerful yet gentle exterior, at a dinner, Beau catches her face in a moment of weakness, and thinks about it for weeks.

[anewarisen]

I really love Liam and Vicky together but I'm not sure if it's because of how adorkable those two look together or if it's because their aesthetic matches EriVris and my headcanon personalities for them match AraSol.

#vicky schmidt #eridan ampora #vriska serket #aradia medigo #sollux captor #erivris #arasol #vicky x liam #monster prom #homestuck #liam de lioncourt

[anewarisen]

Dropping this here! I'm open to requests!

JIMO AI DASH - FIRST YEARS MIX

#yoharubymaru #yoharuby #yohamaru #yoshimaru #rubymaru #hanamaru kunikida #yohane #tsushima yoshiko #ruby kurosawa #1st years #love live sunshine

[anewarisen]

Prediction: The Empire Siblings will be adopted (along with the rest of the Mighty Nein) by Allura and Kima, who will see this scruffy band of lovable misfits and love them all fiercely, but something specifically about the loud-mouthed but soft and broken-hearted rejected daughter, and the quiet, cautious boy who rubs at his scarred arms when he gets nervous will especially tug at Allura and Kima’s heartstrings. 

Imagine Kima’s teeth grinding when she hears about how Beau’s parents abused and then abandoned her. 

Imagine Allura’s horrified tears when she learns what Trent Ikithon did to his bright young protege and the long, bleak, dark years of agony Caleb’s mind endured, and, in a way, always will. 

In short: Kima and Allura will become protective mama bears for their new cubs and I am HERE for it!!

[anewarisen]

Listen, Caleb Widogast has a very specific checklist whenever he casts Polymorph. One of those bullet points is, of course, “Be of the greatest help to my friends.” It just so happens that another one is, “Fuck with Beauregard if at all possible.”

Exhibit A: C2E66 - Beneath Bazzoxan

Caleb (as a giant eagle:) “Caw!”

Beauregard: “Shut up!”

Beauregard: “Right in my ear.”

Caleb (as giant eagle): *smug flap*

Exhibit B: C2E87 - Politics and Punishment

Keep reading

[anewarisen]

You know, one of the things that always delights me about Beau and Caleb, library addicts and research extraordinaires, is how very, very different their approach to research is, because their motivations for doing research diverge on a fundamental level. Beau The Expositor does research as a detective or historian–sifting through information to find hidden truths, to untangle webs of motivations. Caleb The Wizard is more of a utilitarian–he researches how things work so that he can create assets for himself and the party. Or more simply– when confronted with the mysterious, Beau asks, “Why?” and Caleb asks, “How?” Because of this they end up having unique niches in any given investigation the M9 undertake–and their teamwork is crucial to their success so far.

The first time I noticed this and was very pleased was watching how they responded to the abyssal anchors. The same artifacts, and the moment Caleb collects one in the well, he examines it, wondering what it is, how it works, how to activate it, would this be useful for me/the party to use?  After finding this information and deciding that, sadly, this is not currently  a useful item to add to the party’s toolkit, he largely loses interest in future research. Beau, however, here and even moreso when finding an Anchor in the mountains, takes Caleb’s information and begins obsessing over the question of why–why are they being planted, who is doing the planting, what is the big picture here? She takes notes, she urges the pivotal scrying, she theorizes and tries to test her theories on any scrap of information she can find. She is invested in figuring out the truth of how these things came to be where they are, in a way that Caleb, content to go along with whatever Beau is theorizing at the moment, just isn’t.

The question of the dodecahedrons (and the Krynn writ large) is pretty similar–Caleb spent a significant amount of time studying the dodecahedron they had and the Luxon it was tied to in order to find out how it worked, and specifically how it could be useful to him and the others in the party. He researched the culture of the Krynn only insofar as he believed it would assist the M9 in making a diplomatically good appearance. But once the question arises of whether the dodecahedron offered by the Empire is legitimate, Beau is the one sifting through records, fact-checking the claim it was unearthed at Pride’s Call, examining ancient history to try to suss out whether the Bright Queen or Dwendal’s claims about the nature of the war are more accurate than the other’s. Meanwhile Caleb is busy with his latest magical project–a tool to help Nott achieve her goals. 

[anewarisen]

I mean, I can tell people to go fuck themselves and not me, since I'm not into that.

So do you know why the ace ring is black and on the right middle finger? I am sorry if you answered it before but I can’t find the origin! My friend wants to know why that became an ace symbol.

According to AVEN, this is the first mention of the black ring:

“You know, a friend of mine wears a ring on her left middle finger. Her explanation being that: your right middle means “currently single”, the right ring means “currently taken” and since the left ring means “taken/married” in a permanent sense, then the next logical conclusion would be that left middle means “permanently single”.But that may not work for everyone as some asexuals desire companions and relationships, and some guys don’t like jewelry.Still, I would like to hear the input of others.“

I guess the original ace ring was worn on the left middle finger, but somehow it ended up on the right instead? I’ve never heard of middle fingers symbolizing being single, and I couldn’t really find anything about that online.

For some reason I thought it was on the right ring finger, because it would symbolize the “opposite” of being married I guess? but it turns out in many cultures wedding rings go on the right ring finger, so that would be confusing. Apparently black rings are used by the swinger community, and somehow both communities decided that aces can use the right hand, and swingers can use the left, so there’s less confusion.

Pinky fingers are out because people will think you’re in the mafia. Thumbs are kinda awkward to have rings on. I’d imagine rings on the index finger are pretty common, so the middle finger just makes more sense??

Or they just wanted to be able to flip off aphobes and have the ace ring on that finger ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~Admin Sierra

[anewarisen]

I know this is a little late but this was the funniest fucking things in Critical Role a few weeks ago