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chuuyrr · 1 year

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Hello 👋 can we get a platonic! bungo stray dogs x scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader where baby!Fushiguro is feeling mischievous one day pulls pranks on everyone -except Dazai because obviously he’s the favorite- maybe they finally find out it’s baby!Fushiguro because the last person she pranks is kunikida. For Kunikida she puts a spell on his desk that the moment he opens one drawer a crazy whole bunch of different butterflies come flying out and baby!Fushiguro is just dying with laughter. Ranpo most likely knew you were responsible for the pranks already but wanted to keep silent and watch. Then at the end baby!Fushiguro is sleeping in Dazai’s arms and she activates her ability to turn off gravity and obviously they can’t wake her up knowing that if they try to she’ll get grumpy.

scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader pranks the armed detective agency using chaos magic

jujutsu kaisen x reader x bungo stray dogs

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): possible spoilers for bungou stray dogs, mentions of scarlet witch's powers and abilities, extremely fluffy

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! bungou stray dog x child! reader (armed detective agency, but mostly dazai bc the favorite)

before you read: hi, in case you're new, you're megumi's younger half-sibling, and while you don't have cursed energy, you do have scarlet witch's powers and abilities! aside from that, as a special scarlet witch variant, you also have the ability to travel across the multiverse. how chaotic! furthermore, like your half-brother megumi, you are being cared for by gojo satoru, who also serves as your adoptive father. for more info, please see the masterlist.

as the harbinger of chaos that you were, and with reality-warping abilities far greater than any that exists in the world of gifted mafias and detectives, as well as your home world, the world of curses and cursed techniques—it was only natural for you to put your gift to use.

"[name]-chan!~" ranpo called your name.

ranpo, being the sharp detective that he was, noticed how you seemed to be in a particularly good mood today. in fact, you've been extra bubbly since you arrived in their universe.

"you seem to be in a good mood today," ranpo observed as he extended his hand to ruffle your [color]-hair locks as you sat on the seat next to him, swinging your legs back and forth.

"it's nothing!~" you exclaimed with a closed-eye smile, enjoying your uncle ranpo's head pat.

you and ranpo perked up, directing your gaze towards yosano, who was sitting on her desk and suddenly spit out her drink, completely taken aback—something that none of you were used to seeing given how cool and calm your auntie yosano was.

"yosano-sensei?" dazai questioned, blinking at the short-haired woman, "what's wrong?"

"someone swapped the wine in my locker into grape juice instead," yosano exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at the contents of the wine glass she had just filled, "damn.."

"oi, dazai, stop messing with yosano-sensei," kunikida said to the bandaged-man who was lounging at his desk, making a paper plane for you out of one of the report papers that was lying on his desk.

"ehh? that wasn't me, kunikida-kun," dazai exclaimed, a childish pout immediately appearing on his face in response to the accusation.

"really now?" kunikida questioned, raising his brow and placing a hand on his hip.

"yes, really! you're such a jerk, kunikida-kun!" dazai huffed, folding his arms across his chest, "i would never ever pull off such a thing to yosano-sensei because knowing myself, i would have done it to you instead!"

"WHY YOU—" kunikida was cut off.

fukuzawa had entered the office, covered in colorful confettis from head to toe, just as kunikida was about to grab dazai by the collar and strangle him alive with his bare hands.

ranpo's eyes widened as he tried to suppress a laugh and a smile, "p-president.."

"w-what happened to you?" naomi inquired, cupping her mouth to cover her own laugh.

"i supposedly had a box of rice buns in my office, but when i opened it... it was confetti instead," fukuzawa exclaimed, puzzled.

"that's so strange, president! the same thing happened to me earlier too, but instead of confetti, my packed gyudon turned into party streamers when i opened it," kenji raised his hand, completely unfazed and still smiling, "city life sure is exciting! you never know what happens next."

"are you sure it's not you, dazai-san?" atsushi asked as dazai handed you the paper plane he folded before he gasped and clutched his chest dramatically.

"atsushi-kun, how dare you! it wasn't me!" dazai exclaimed, motioning over you, who were still laughing and cheerfully swinging your legs as you waved the paper plane in the air with ranpo still behind your seat, "i'm playing with [name]-chan over here!"

"well, whoever is pranking us sure is good," sighed tanizaki, entering the office not long after fukuzawa with kyouka trailing behind him, "instead of confetti and streamers, powdered sugar exploded in my face!"

"i got ribbons in my hair..." kyouka muttered quietly, covering her face with her hands as her face flushed with embarrassment. Instead of flowers, kyouka's hair was adorned with ribbons.

"tanizaki-kun! kyouka-chan! oh, no! not you guys too!" atsushi's eyes widened at the sight of tanizaki being covered in powdered sugar and kyouka with ribbons in her hair.

after that, atsushi went over his own desk to find a tissue for tanizaki to wipe his face, but as soon as he found the box of tissues, something went wrong. as atsushi pulled a tissue, he noticed that it was connected to the others in the box by a chain or link, similar to a bunch of tied up handkerchiefs for a magic show.

"EHH?! THE TISSUES ARE TIED!" atsushi cried out, continuing to pull the tissues from the box.

"well, if it isn't dazai, who could it be?" kunikida sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked towards his desk.

"it's definitely not me. i'm hanging out with [name]-chan as well," ranpo shrugged, chuckling softly, "but this sure is entertaining to watch. that's nearly the entire armed detective agency members pranked."

you could hardly stop laughing at this point. ranpo's gaze was fixed on you as you played with the paper plane that dazai had given you, and he couldn't help but smile. even though ranpo knew what was going on with the agency today, he was letting it slide just this once.

kunikida approached his desk and opened his drawer, expecting to find papers and writing utensils presumably just to proceed with work despite the pranks that was being pulled off left and right, but instead found a swarm of butterflies—all sorts of colorful butterflies to be exact, the sight of which reminded him and everyone else of yosano's breathtaking thou shalt not die ability as he yelped and stumbled backwards in surprise.

with that, you burst out laughing, unable to hold back your laughter, and everyone in the office realized who was behind the pranks today—it was none other than the reality warping little witch they knew and loved.

"[name]-chan!" "[name]!" they all cried in unison.

"you prankster!" exclaimed dazai, extending a hand to pinch your cheek, which you simply giggled at.

"so, it was [name] all along," kunikida's lips graced into a smile as he sighed.

"of course it'd be [name]-chan, she's capable of warping reality in the blink of an eye. if it were dazai, it'd take him a long time to prank us one by one, unlike her, who can just cast spells or whatever without us even knowing," ranpo grinned as he looked at you.

"how did you do it, [name]? you had it planned, didn't you?" fukuzawa chuckled quietly, tilting his head and smiling softly.

you nodded in agreement, "and i did with my wiggly-woos magic at a molecular level!"

"chaos magic is truly a rivaled special ability," atsushi remarked, folding his arms across his chest, "[name]-chan got us good with it."

with everyone watching in awe, you lifted your index finger and using a red glow of psionics to transform the paper plane dazai folded you into a pretty blue monarch butterfly, "i'm glad i did because i've been practicing a lot, but the thing is uncle ranpo, i don't do spells. i've been told that reality can be whatever i want."

however, after using your wiggly-woos magic for that, you let out a yawn, prompting you to rub your eyes, which they undoubtedly thought was extremely adorable of you. in their eyes, you were a sleepy little kitten who had grown tired of playing all day.

"so cute!" both naomi and kirako squealed as they stared at you with a awestruck look.

"are you alright, [name]-chan?" dazai asked softly, noticing your suddenly sleepy state.

"mhm.. just sleepy.." you muttered quietly, yawning once more before giggling, "sorry.."

"well, except for ranpo-san and me, you pretty much pranked everyone with your wiggly-woos magic," dazai smiled at you, extending a hand to ruffle your hair, "that must have tired you out, right, [name]-chan?"

"i guess so.." you nodded drowsily in response.

"aww, come here sleepy little bella~"

with that, you made grabby hands towards dazai, indicating your want to be carried. dazai snatched you from your seat and drew you into his embrace, allowing your tiny figure to lean against him, your head against his shoulder, while you gripped the fabric of his brown coat.

dazai giggled at your sleepy and cuddly state, taking his hand to boop your nose, which you laughed at, but as soon as he started swaying gently, cradling you in his arms while humming a tune that seemed oddly familiar to the one that your adoptive father, gojo satoru, would hum to lull you to sleep, your eyes became heavier as you yawned more.

it wasn't long before you were dozed off in dazai's arms, all snuggled up in his embrace.

"[name]-chan fell asleep!" atsushi exclaimed quietly, a smile spreading across his face as he placed his hand on his lips, "how cute!"

"not only did she not prank dazai, but she chose to sleep with him instead of her uncle fukuzawa," tanizaki stated, shaking his head, "[name]-chan truly has favorites and it shows."

"and she didn't prank ranpo-san either," yosano sighed, chuckling softly, "talk about favorites."

"of course! it's only natural for [name]-chan to have me as her favorite. i'm her best uncle detective," ranpo smugly folded his arms across his chest before it faded into a pout, "but still, that makes me better than the boss, though i'm pretty sure the second favorite is that port mafia executive [name]-chan likes a lot."

"NOT THAT SLUG!" cried dazai all of a sudden in a comical and dramatic manner.

speaking of the "slug" with the ability to manipulate gravity, you whined softly in your sleep as dazai's raised voice prompted you to turn in your sleep.

"ah, sorry, [name]-chan! so sorry," dazai hushed you, apologizing and cradling you in his arms as he walked over to his desk and sat.

however, as dazai did, everything in the office began to glow red, alarming everyone. before anyone, including dazai, could react, all of the furniture, objects, and even themselves began to float upwards as if they had zero gravity as they became surrounded with the same red glow that was similar to nakahara chuuya when he makes use of his gravity manipulation.

"we're... floating," atsushi said, his arms spread wide as he tried, or more like struggled to balance himself in mid-air.

"even dazai-san is floating?" kyouka asked quietly, her gaze fixed on dazai, who was curled up slightly as he continued to cradle and hold your sleeping figure in his embrace despite floating in mid-air along with her and the others.

"for some reason, [name]-chan's chaos magic doesn't get nullified by dazai's," ranpo exclaimed, munching on a snack as he lay on his back in mid-air with an arm behind his head and a leg over his other, "it is most likely because [name]-chan's ability is counted as multiple abilities or simply because it is "magic," which conflicts with dazai's ability."

"that actually makes sense. [name]-chan is capable of more than just turning things into confetti, streamers, and butterflies. she can also travel across the multiverse, heal people, and most importantly," dazai exclaimed before stating his last sentence in a slightly disgusted tone, "control our gravity like that shrimp."

"oi, dazai, wake [name]-chan up! we still have work to do!" kunikida exclaimed, flailing his arms around in the air.

"you know i can't do that, kunikida-kun!" dazai replied back, his gaze narrowing slightly, "[name]-chan is going to get grumpy and throw a tantrum. don't you remember the last time?"

"dazai has a point, kunikida. we can't wake [name] up," fukuzawa cleared his throat, sweating as he remembered you crying and upset because they had woken you up. you were there up about it for nearly an hour, and it would have lasted longer if they hadn't brought you to the port mafia for chuuya or koyou to calm you down.

"well, floating around like this isn't so bad," yosano exclaimed, twirling around in mid-air before softly laughing, "it's pretty fun."

"yosano-sensei is right; this is relaxing as well!" kenji agreed, floating on his back with his limbs extended out, resembling a starfish.

"say, dazai, how long does [name] usually sleep?" kunikida sighed in defeat.

"hmm, [name]-chan usually sleeps for about an hour, but given how tired she is right now... i'd say more than an hour, kunikida-kun," dazai exclaimed, sweat dripping from his brow as he chuckled, motioning over to you drooling in your sleep, wetting his coat, but he continued to hold you and cradle you in his arms, patting your back.

"oh." was what all kunikida muttered back.

[ author's notes ! i was supposed post an angsty fic today, but didn't feel like it—so have some fluff instead :) i found myself enjoy writing this. it was just so cute <3 my heart is sooo full. anyway, i hope you liked it anon, and everyone who read this and made it this far. tysm for requesting hehe ! ]

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sourtomatola · 1 month

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You slipped out of the bathroom and into the early morning crowd of tourists, the people with nothing better to do who enjoyed the tours of beautiful candy. You were very tired from staying up so late, but you tried to enjoy the tour anyways. This time you paid more attention to the other parts of the tour, seeing Freddy and Bonie together, both having chocolate as their main candy.

They seemed to have a little act of their own that was a cute song and dance. You felt like the company might have had a hand in writing the lyric’s of their song, but they seemed legitimately happy to have something to do when tourists came through.

Chica and Foxy were next. Glittering sugar fell from Chica’s body constantly, making her seem almost magical. Her cupcake on the platter bounced around at the sight of people, and he made a joke about gobbling up all the deliciously looking people walking by. The kids in the crowd giggled, but you had a sickening feeling in your gut that good ol’ Carl Cupcake was far from joking. Especially since Chica grabbed him and placed him under a glass cake dome, making him bonk his little face against it as she shushed him.

In other area’s, there were other candy beings. There was a group made of elite candy-coated chocolate. The kind of chocolate most could only dream of being able to afford. The form those creatures took seemed to be an Elephant and hippo. A heterochromia Pig, coated in a pink candy shell was said to be the richest dark chocolate, and a Green Fudge frog sat next to him, both seeming to relax and not mind the tour.

Then there was the oddity of the Taffy beings. All had the same coloring, similar faces (as if they might have been siblings) but they all had small differences. One was simple, long black elongating arms and fingers. He sat in a bright teal box decorated like a present. He(?) Would pop out of the box like a jack in the box and waved his arms around delicately, gentle as a soft summer breeze. They simply called him puppet.

The second taffy being would peek out of the lid of his own purple striped box. He would only come out once a day, if you were lucky. You’ve never seen his full self. They say he liked the color green, and if enough people wore it, he might come out to greet them. Apparently St. Patrick’s day was always busy because he came out almost all the time, provided enough people were celebrating it.

His gold pinprick eyes set on you, making you freeze up. You hadn’t worn green today, yet he stared and slowly lifted his lid, showing the singular lopsided jester hat.

The crowd around you ‘oooh’-ed at the sight of the creature whose form warped and warbled right in front of you all. Sun and Moon and told you they had started as Endo skeleton’s, but you had a feeling the taffy puppets might have started as something else, since they were noodly and almost abstract.

The marionette, as the second one was called, stared at you, making your face flush in confusion and embarrassment. Did they recognize you as a rule breaker? Since you had stayed the night? Or was he looking at someone else? It sure felt like it was you. It might just be your guilty conscious.

Globs of taffy began to fall off both puppets. A worker rushed in and began to collect the candy where they fell on a clean (assumingly so) matt. People took pictures and you swear you saw someone duck down and reach through the railing in an attempt to reach one of the treats to keep.

“You may purchase the candy at the end of the tour, no free samples.” The Tour guide announced.

The third box, that had remained unmoving next to the marionette, seemed to be a plain brown crate. The lid bumped up slightly, making the people collecting up the taffy flinch. The other puppets didn’t seem to notice the development as they continued to shed taffy on the floor. The lip jostled again. Suddenly, the spotlights that lit up the greenroom for the taffy being’s went out, and a large metal door slammed down, blocking your tour group from the room. Or, perhaps, it was blocking the taffy beings from all of you.

“Ha ha, wow, that little guy usually only comes out at night, fancy that.” The tour guy laughed awkwardly. “They’ll be alright folks, that one just likes the shed in a uh…explosive way.” A loud thudding and almost wet sound pounded behind the door, making your stomach drop. You didn’t even want to imagine what was going on behind this door.

You swallowed and took one last glance at the door blocking you from the marionette’s view, yet somehow, you felt like it was still staring at you.

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mintywolf · 2 months

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She can’t blame them for wanting to tear down the ivy from the barn. After all, it had tried to eat several of her friends the first time they had visited it, in the other here. But at Laudna’s insistence, they have left it climbing on the walls of the cottage. She likes the wild, overgrown look of it, and the reminder of the passage of time in its reach.

Chetney has repaired the roof, loudly decrying the state of the timbers all the while, and there’s now a fresh cover of fragrant heather thatching. Thanks to Orym the new window boxes are full of violets and petunias, and the flowerbeds beside the door lined with columbine and the long stems of purple and blue larkspur and hollyhocks. Fearne, in the shape of a mossy-hoofed water buffalo, has turned over one of the dormant fields to make a vegetable patch, and there’s an herb garden in progress by the kitchen door. Ashton has contributed a scarecrow in the gangly shape of the Nightmare King and evened out the cobblestone path. Imogen’s magic has determinedly cleaned the dust and grime of forgotten decades from the interior, and Laudna’s has mended what she could find to mend.

It’s surprising how much there was still there to find. A kettle left hanging on its hook over the hearth. Dishes still stacked in warped and lopsided kitchen cupboards. A blue and white quilt, mostly preserved from the harrowing of time, folded up in a blanket chest at the foot of her parents’ bed. A faded needlepoint Sun Tree in a frame on the kitchen wall. A rusted tea tin in the haymow containing a crow feather, two empty spools, a handful of mismatched buttons, a pewter unicorn, and other child’s treasures. A dented copper washtub and a washboard in the scullery, now home to a family of voles. A glass jar of marbles in a trunk underneath the rickety structure that used to be her bed up in the loft. Fifteen numbered markings on the kitchen doorframe, ending at her own height. Pegs on the entryway wall still waiting to receive the coats and hoods of the family who went out one winter night and never returned. It’s eerie, stepping into a place that has, like the rest of the world, gone on aging without her, but not entirely unwelcoming.

They clear out what she doesn’t want to save, or is beyond saving, and move around what she does, just so it’s a little different. With the kitchen table at a new angle she’s less likely to expect to see her mother there cutting apples, and instead able to think of Imogen kneading bread dough with her capable hands. Imogen framed by firelight as she reads on the couch by the living room hearth instead of her father in his armchair whittling. Imogen holding the other end of a blanket as they spread it out over the bed in the room that is no longer the place she would come running from a scary dream, but their own.

When the sun begins to set on a day of hard work they wave goodbye to the other Hells as they set off to return to Whitestone for an evening with the crew of the Silver Sun, docked at the skyport. Laudna wipes her work-grimy hands on her apron and takes Pâté out of the pocket, tossing him up into the air so he can stretch his wings. She slips her hand into Imogen’s as they amble around their farmstead, the late spring grass cool and dewy between her bare toes. Pâté bobs after them like a large and particularly ungainly bumblebee. In the soft-footed gloaming, beneath a sky the same color as her wife’s hair, everything looks both new and familiar at once.

(Read more on AO3)

And so I guess Remember Us is now complete! Thank you so much to everyone who has been following it for the past year.

💜🖤

#critical role #critical role fic #imodna #southerngothic #imogen x laudna #laudna #imogen temult #matilda bradbury #it’s done!

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atwistinthetail · 9 months

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my s3 rewrite headcanons

like, obviously my perfect s3 includes emma and lewis for the entire season, but I’m going to engage with the season on its own terms here

here we go~

the comet/moon rock stuff is OUT sorry not sorry but that’s a no from me

I’m fine with Bella’s origin story but the moon pool that turned her should be its own separate thing with different rules and characteristics

maybe she has a different tail color, like different moon pools create different “subspecies” of mermaids

instead of the water trying to warn them about the end of the world, maybe Bella’s magic is conflicting with the Mako moon pool bc they are two different sources of magic, and that’s why the magic is going haywire

instead of Sophie and Ryan mining the moon pool, it could be self-destructing or warping in some way due to the competing magical forces

how do they fix it? I don’t know but I’m sure they could figure it out. Maybe they all hop in during a full moon and they all steep in the magic and it like combines all their auras or something and brings balance to the force. There can still be a cool showdown where they use all their power to do some big spectacle and fix everything, nothing would be as silly as a comet headed straight towards earth

it would also address that things only start going wrong when Bella shows up, and they never question that. It should be bc she shows up, but like it’s not her fault

this is an obvious one everyone says but just… make Will a merman. Maybe it felt like too many merpeople but honestly you can’t have too many merpeople and with a show like this you just have to lean into the camp as much as possible

a new person transforming into a mermaid is also the only repetitive plot that doesn’t get old imo. “My boyfriend can’t find out” is old news, bring me “My boyfriend has turned into a merman”

he could transform on his own without anybody finding out at first, since he has already discovered the moon pool independently. As he and Bella get close, they are both trying to hide the fact that they are merpeople, but they also both want to know what the other is hiding so they are in this constant tango of trying not to be suspicious

and it would eliminate Will being such a rude ass about forcing Bella to reveal her secret

what ramifications does mermania have on Will’s relationship with Sophie if he has to abandon his training?

y’all know this was coming bc it’s me, but we have to fix zikki, I mean this is truly dire. I’m not saying they shouldn’t have problems, but there were so many better problems they could have

first of all, we must get rid of the Rikki/Will ship tease, it has no place here

if Will is a merman, the Will/Rikki/Zane melodrama could be improved. There’s a new guy bonding with Rikki who shares a huge part of her life that Zane never can, and that’s a more interesting insecurity than just being jealous of this new hot guy who made her a friendship necklace

we can do the same thing with Sophie. Rikki seems to have some level of imposter syndrome about running the cafe, at least prior to opening, so it makes sense that Sophie, with more experience and confidence, would be a threat when she impresses Zane

goodbye to the it’s-not-what-it-looks-like Sophie/Zane kiss, it’s the worst reason zikki could have broken up, and we basically already did it with Miriam in s1

Zane didn’t have to revert to his start of s1 self to, like, be a problem. I can definitely see him inadvertently mansplaining business to Rikki, getting into financial trouble bc he’s overconfident, like the same kinds of things they tried in s3 but a lil more nuanced. I don’t see him outright trying to commit fraud lol more like he would make risky financial moves or find dangerous “opportunities” like the treasure hunt to make ends meet

all of that can still cause tension and arguments, but they would be the arguments a committed couple running a business would have, not just more tired teenage jealousy

and they should have ended the series still together lol like I think my stance is clear but I just needed to say it

once Lewis leaves, Zane should take his place as the human protector of the secret. His impulsive, reckless approach to problem-solving would create a new dynamic in the group. He and Rikki would butt heads on how to handle mermaid problems, but it would also let him bond more with the other girls

and eventually Will, bc everyone is friends at the end of my season. They don’t have to be besties but they would be gently competitive allies

Zane would also definitely call Lewis as a lifeline at least once. Their misadventures never miss

speaking of phone calls, they should have called Emma a few times. They wouldn’t have even needed to have a voice on the line, it could have been a one-sided conversation just to show they’re all keeping up

and to confirm she dumped Ash lol SORRY to any Ash girlies if you’re out there

another obvious one, but they should have kept wearing their lockets. Maybe they don’t wear them all the time, but to stop wearing them entirely? They could still also have their own new thing including Bella and Will. Friendship bracelets?

Miss Chatham should have made at least one appearance to meet Bella. Does she know there are other mermaids from other parts of the world?

a Halloween episode where all the mermaids go as mermaids and just have their tails out and everybody thinks they just have really great costumes (I feel like Halloween isn’t as much of a thing in Australia as it is in the US? but they should still do it for the hijinx)

Cleo tells Don and Kim the secret. If Emma told beige-ass Ash the secret there is no way that at least Cleo and Emma would not have told their parents as well, at least as a “finale” kind of move

every couple should have gotten an underwater kiss, I’m sorry but that should be a law in all human/sea creature romance

everyone is happy and friends at the end

Clewis are their perfect endgame selves of course

Zikki is intact, but probably realize that being business partners (or at least partners in this particular business) isn’t for them, but they have come out of their issues stronger as a couple and secure in pursuing their individual endeavors as well

the moon pool is still in shambles but it died of natural causes and it’s still suggested that they will be spending their summer putting it right

the last cafe scene and sing along can stay, but the actual last scene is everybody together at the moon pool 🩵

#h2o just add water #just add water #h2o jaw #long post

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azems-familiar · 2 months

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more of the ascian Azem au beneath the cut: aka i finally wrote the Sundering (and wow was it hard to get the tone right)

They’re standing on a street corner conferring with Elidibus and Lahabrea - or rather, Hades is conferring with them and Azem is only half-paying attention to the conversation, keeping their eye out for their little follower, who they last saw skulking in the shadow of a nearby residential building half-destroyed in the Final Days and yet to be reconstructed. They should try to get her name out of her when she follows them home tonight, Azem thinks absently, and maybe some paperwork to establish their apartment as her current residence. If- if she wants to continue staying with them. Someone will need to have guardianship of her if she’s to be properly taken care of, and she at least seems to allow Azem to help.

The first sign that something is wrong comes from Elidibus. He stops speaking abruptly, turning to stare up at the strange white satellite that’s been visible in the sky off and on since Zodiark was imprisoned. “What is She doing?” he says, voice low - and then his eyes widen behind his mask and he almost sounds like Themis again, younger and far more present, when he says, “No, don’t!”

And the sky fills with Light. There’s a sound, more felt than heard, like shattering glass, like a crystal cracking down the center, and the world warps around them - ripples on water, wind through leaves, sunlight on windows, a reflection that shifts and morphs and grows, the very ground beneath their feet folding in on itself and then stretching apart on a spider’s web of a million invisible fractures. Against the glaring brightness of a magic just as if not more powerful than Zodiark’s creation, a brightness that sears Azem’s very aether, a bitter burn they can feel all the way to their soul, all they can think of is the child, and they sprint in her direction, ignoring the way Hades cries their name.

They barely make it to the building before there’s a grinding sound that seems to come from everywhere at once and the Light turns so bright they can’t do anything but close their eyes and cower away from it, away from the blade that passes by them so close they can feel the wind of its passage against their skin. It isn’t a real blade, it can’t be, but they feel something cleave anyway, and there’s that awful noise like the star itself is tearing apart-

Then all at once, it stops.

The silence in the air is absolute. Azem opens their eyes, slowly, and- and still they stand where they were a moment before, just inside the main entrance of a residential building’s lobby, but there is something inexplicably wrong about it, as if everything around them has somehow…diminished. Become lesser. A drabness, like the haze of grey they’ve lived in since Helios’s death has manifested over the star itself, all color dimmed and the sunlight shading in through a window weak and thin as if it’s falling through a heavy layer of water. And the aether, when they look at the world through that second sight, drifts past in pale streams so faded as to be nearly intangible, like motes of dust in a sunbeam. One spell, were they to cast it by drawing on the star itself the way Helios has always done, might drain those currents entirely dry.

Horror builds in their throat like nausea. This is wrong. This is wrong. Sickly and feeble and empty, a distorted shadow of what should be-

They suck in a shaking breath, turning in a slow circle, and everything is as it was but nothing is as it should be. They- they can barely feel Zodiark’s presence anymore, His power a muffled pulse that echoes across some unimaginable distance. Not long ago they probably would have been glad for the space between them and His overwhelming Darkness, but now they just feel cold.

Footsteps draw their attention and they turn to see- golden hair, red eyes, their little follower, drifting across the floor towards them. Her mask is gone and there is something- different about her, a dullness to her eyes - and in the aether, in the aether she is nothing but a shade, less present than the weakest animal, more a ghost than anything living. She’s not- she’s not a person anymore - the tiny, fragmented soul they can sense would barely elevate her from the classification of ‘arcane entity’. There is no life in the empty gaze she casts briefly over Azem, unrecognizing, before she simply moves on, a spirit borne on the wind.

She looks exactly as Helios had, when he laid there unmoving on the dirt, unseeing and unhearing and gone.

Azem gathers their aether and pulls themself across the aetherial sea to the aetheryte near the Capitol, something desperate clawing its way through them, as if- as if they can prove that this is just an outlier, as if the world will suddenly change - but everywhere they look they see dead faces somehow still walking, empty-eyed husks shuffling through a fragmented reality, all of them walking away as if driven by some echoing impulse. These- these are not Azem’s people, who they love, who they have given their life to shepherding. This is some ghastly mockery, puppets being drawn across an invisible stage, except they recognize the barest traces of aether left behind in many of these bodies.

They can’t- breathe. The air is too thin, the aether is too thin, the star is too thin-

Hydaelyn did this, they think numbly, and it feels like ice freezing slowly over the surface of their soul, sealing them away within. Not Venat - Venat is gone, has to be, if there was any shred of her left she would never have struck such a blow, would never have broken the star and the people the way Hydaelyn has. These faded and frail reflections of life - why would She do this? Light lingers still in the air, a persistent sharpness that sinks into their bones, and they stare up at the sky, at the satellite that mars its even curve, and wonder if Her blow had missed them so deliberately as some sort of punishment.

Bear witness to what your failures have wrought, they can nearly imagine Her saying, with that hardness in Her eyes that Venat had developed the moment she learned about the future. It feels apt. One last lesson to the wayward student who has ever been the lesser choice for their seat: abandon your duty and it will be taken from you.

Perhaps Etheirys should have burned, if this is to be its fate.

Some indeterminate time passes around them. A breeze stirs up; it blows right through them. They are not here. They are not anywhere, adrift on the ice floes of their soul. The sky darkens, the stars spill across it like pinpricks of fire against an endless expanse of ink, and Zodiark and the souls He is made of remain frustratingly out of reach. They do not need to look to know that Amaurot is empty.

A warm hand on their shoulder brings them back to the ground, eventually. They blink away the static and lower their head, wincing against the crick in their neck, almost afraid to turn - but then they do, and standing next to them is Hades, his mask loose around his neck and his cowl down. His eyes ache with unshed tears, but they are alive - he’s alive. Hydaelyn’s blow missed him too. That simple fact - that they are not alone - makes them want to cry, though they don’t.

“...everything is dead,” Azem says, as hollow as the rustling leaves. “I’ve seen the people. What is left of them, the shades they are. But…” They swallow, gaze drifting away from Hades’s face to the silent street behind him, and whisper, “I do not know if they are the condemned ones.”

Hades makes a soft, choked sound almost like a sob and pulls them closer, wrapping his arms around them, and they let him maneuver them until he can rest his head on their shoulder, his face tucked into the crook of their neck, his tears cool on their skin. For a long moment they just- stand there, eyes caught on a faded lavender leaf swirling in little circles over an embossed sidewalk panel, caught in the grooves in the material, and then they slowly let out a breath and slide one arm around his waist, tilting their head sideways to lean their cheek against his temple.

When Lahabrea and Elidibus find them later - the last four living things in all of Etheirys, spared the blade of Light in what cannot in even the most twisted sense be called a mercy - Azem does not let go.

#ramblings #my writing #ffxiv #unsundered azem au #azemet #i guess?? it's technically Not That but the other two parts of the weird polycule are dead. so #i'm just fucking around. this is rough draft #ascian azem au #oc: seleukos

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lumilasi · 6 months

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Brought another one of my OG faves into Night City parlor, this time Avara, Azul/Chester's ex/close friend. She used to be known only as Avara, but I realized she'd have the same nickname as another character of mine, Avane, so I gave her a different first name and Avara is now her surname lol. I also didn't feel like doing lineart, so I just tidied up the sketches a bit and colored those.

Bio below:

Name: Iris Avara (Avara is finnish (my native) and means "spacious/open")

Nicknames: Ms. Avara/professor (her students), Ris, starlady (Azul, Reuben)

Age: 36

Height: 163 cm

Friends: Miriam Belarose (her co-worker and closest non-childhood friend) Beatrice (A forest witch journalist who often requires her assistance with her investigations) Azul (former BF-of-sorts, and a childhood friend) Reuben (Azul's brother), Diojas (Azul's current love-interest)

Love-interest: none

Family: Avara family siblings Ilves, Kuura, Aura, and Varis (her adoptive family)

Powers:

Visions: Astral magic wielders can typically utilize many types of visions, from premonitions to ability to see into the past/see things others do not aka clairvoyance. Iris has specifically honed her skill with the last two, but does occasionally get premonitions.

Light-bending: basically light elemental magic, where she can control and manipulate light from making lasers to dispelling dark magic, though the most she uses it for is illuminate her way through dim library corridors.

Astral projection: She can project herself into the astral plane to contact others even through time or alternate timelines, or just to reach someone's dreams

Aurora Borealis spell: She has a special spell that takes the form of northern lights, which can be used as a pathway to somewhere, or a shield to protect against physical and magical attacks. She mainly uses the former trick, though.

Weaknesses:

Because her magic type is so rare, she often feels there's a lot of pressure and expectations on her to perform well, making her work way too hard sometimes, to the point of exhaustion. Her biological family - whom she has disowned - did not help with it much.

talking of her parents, they wanted to pressure her into marrying someone she didn't like, which has caused her some struggles with actually having a romantic relationship, because of her trust issues/tendency to think anything more serious might just be someone else yet again imposing their will onto her. She is somewhat aware her thinking is warped, but she can't help it.

(more tba)

Personality:

Iris is intelligent, strict but fair teacher with passion for learning more about her topics of interest, and digging deep into whatever mystery comes her way. Outside her teacher-job, she is quite playful and mischievous, and can come off very flirtatious. Given her past, she tends to not be serious about it, and typically only acts that way around those she trusts/those who know she's just teasing them.

She's generally kind of afraid of serious romantic relationships due to her trauma, which is one of the reasons why she broke it off with Azul/Chester. Outside romance though, Iris is very good at maintaining relationships, and is a very trustworthy friend to have. She's somebody who always knows a trick or two to help you out, or has some obscure piece of knowledge you've been looking for - or knows someone who has it.

She is a hard-worker to a fault, and also a very dedicated teacher who wants to make sure everyone passes her classes if she can help it.

FUN FACTS

Beatrice and Iris share the same taste in fashion, and shop in the same places. It's actually where they met.

Iris loves form-fitting retro dresses with dramatic flares included, and generally prefers dressing very feminine. She does sometimes wear pants though, retro fashion of course.

She mostly wears her hair in a small bun when at work, to keep it away from her eyes.

Iris is bisexual, though tends to prefer more masculine presenting people slightly. She finds Beatrice's girlfriend (who's more butch type) very attractive for example, as well as Azul's current boyfriend Diojas.

Her style is largely a combo of retro vibes and old school Hollywood glamour, topped with night-sky/galaxy inspired colors.

She is a fan of Azul's opera singer mother, Annabelle, and her hairstyle is somewhat inspired by her.

Her surname "Avara" was actually chosen by her as she wanted to completely distance herself from her birth family.

Caelan, a member of the protagonist family, is one of her favorite students, given how inquisitive and naturally curious he is.

Iris has 3 familiars, specifically three white wolves names Orion, Lyra, and Lupus. She's often seen walking them around town, with people wondering how on earth she can handle three massive fluffballs at once.

Lyra is the smartest of the three, whereas Lupus is the biggest. Orion is the goofiest of the bunch, often making funny faces

Sometimes she rides Lupus to work if she doesn't feel like walking (she lives close to campus)

She's one of the few people who knows Chester's real, original name is Azul Samaros. She was the first person outside his family he told it to.

While their romantic feelings have waned, her and Azul still have a strong and healthy platonic bond, something that if they were the same gender, would be called "bromance" or "sisterhood" basically.

#artists on tumblr #digital art #oc reference #oc redesign #oc illustration #lumi's chaotic creations #lumi's art scribbles #Night city parlor #Iris Avara #retro fashion #retro inspired #my oc #The mage and the mobster

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doctorstrangeaskblog · 1 year

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Why Doctor Strange 2 has FREAKING AMAZING visuals

In my opinion, to my taste, I think DSMOM was a lot richer in visual than most movies. We have more variety of spells, more vivid colors, more angles, richer scenarios and I think all the costumes/clothing are better. Of course it's a matter of style, while DS1 is darker and more Baroque like and Infinity War follows general Avengers movies patterns, DS2MOM has it's own style, with a different direction and special effects. I really loved how the movie is clear, even in the darker scenes such as when Wanda attacks Kamar Taj or in Sinister's Sanctum, you can see all the elements you need to see. All the costumes, even the casual ones, are so so pretty, with so many details. The scenario interacts with the story- we have America and Stephen always falling in the same spot of NY (by that roof, then there's the fence). The direction showed great skill with ALL SORTS of scenarios- wide open places gave the sensation they needed to, to either give the false sensation of peace and freedom (the apple field) or to give us fear/shivers of desolation (Sinister's reality). I absolutely LOVED Kamar Taj, we see the courtyard, we see the desks where they study, we see the rooms where they meet, the place from inside, the place from above, we see from afar the HUGE structure and how close to the mountains it is... Then we have 3 different Sanctums, all 3 unique full of details, we have different Stranges with different spells and magic. If anyone saw the Marvel Assembled about DSMOM, you'll see how they put so much effort- they glued each petals of those apple trees because of the pandemic delays because they didn't want to CGI it, they improved all the wire work so the actors had more mobility when doing flying scenes, and each figurine is so rich and symbolic, such as how Wanda's clothing has this dark stain that comes from her chest and spreads, as Sinister's robes have this darkness musk, Wong's robes has golden and purple details and Stephen's robes even have flowers in detail on his back.

I know DSMOM isn't most people's favorite, but when it comes to that aspect of the movie, I loved it absolutely. We get SO MANY ANGLES and SO MANY VIBES- darker scenes are well executed, funny scenes are well executed, sad scenes are well executed, and all the elements of the visuals contribute to that- it's not isolated, it's interactive.

The Temple of Vishanti is one of the most beautiful visual I have EVER seen, the cover of the books, its light, the lights in the eyes and faces of the actors- all what's around them interacts with them. They actually exploded entire sets to film the actions scenes, they seem to have done their best to avoid CGI in the visuals they could and considering the chaos of the pandemic and all the changes and delay in filming, I think it's a golden pearl that it has the best visuals.

The movies explores all sorts of environments and everything is pretty. We have wedding scenes, NY scenes, crumbling reality scenes, reality warp scenes, futuristic reality, indoor, outdoor. Earth 838 has SO many details, like, did you notice everyone wears hat? Did you notice the colors are opposite? Did you notice there are technologies that can read people's memories and they showed us all that instead of just plain exposition?

The scene in which Wanda dreamwalks into Earth 838 while Mordo is talking to Stephen and America is visually stunning- there are like 3 things happening at the same time and you understand it all while it's so pretty to see.

I mean check this image of Stephen's robes detail. It's stunning to me. And remember when I said the visuals have a role? Example- Stephen is a master now, and well, masters choose their robes. With that detail, we indirectly might be told that Stephen CHOSE those details, those flowers, that color, that style. The Ahnk like symbol on his chest- it has so many meanings such as life, rebirth, etc. BECAUSE of the excellent visuals, if we sit to theorize a bit, we can get to SO MANY conclusions about the story. Did you notice the Ultron lights were yellow? Remember what Infinity Stone was Yellow? Remember how Vision was supposed to be Ultron? Did you notice Reed's portal is the same sort of portal Kang uses? Did you notice Black Bolt's eyes almost popped out and blood spilled from his nose? And how the Iluminati's base seemed so COLD and EMOTIONLESS while Kamar Taj feels so warm and cozy, like a place I would love to sit and study with a hot drink. I think the visuals of DSMOM ARE STUNNING and it's not because it's just pretty, it's because it interacts with the story and the characters so well, it has an ACTIVE ROLE in the story, and I love it.

Here's the robe details I mentioned:

#doctor strange #doctor strange 2 #stephen strange #marvel #mcu #dr strange #dsmom #ds2 #dsitmom #meta

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tasteslikekeys · 1 year

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Lights, Camera, ANIMATION

This is mostly an outlet for myself to vent, so no sweat if you scroll on by. I watched a reaction video complain about the depth of field in a 3d animated piece, and how there’s no need to use those techniques because there’s “no camera” in animation. WHEW. Now, I will give them a lot of leeway because they’re reacting to things live, and not all opinions are allowed the time to form more cohesive thoughts. And I’ll also say they were totally fair to critique its frequent use of rack focus in the sequence.

But this plays into a broad issue that Western, specifically American, audiences have regarding animation. They see it as a genre and not a medium. A medium that can do allllllllll the genres live action can do. If I was the type to be buried or have a tombstone when I die, it would absolutely read: ANIMATION IS A MEDIUM. NOT A GENRE. JFC.

But back to the casual comment that had me gnashing my teeth: Yes, Margaret, there IS a camera in animation. Whether it be all the ways traditional and digital animation can recreate different lens effects through other means, to programs having a robust camera feature as a layer/object/however it implements the tool.

And along with the other tools we share with live action to tell a story: lighting, color, framing, blocking, editing...all that jazz, the camera and its variety of features are a big part of that. It’s an incredibly important tool in how we direct the audience to what’s significant in the scene and when to look at it.

EXAMPLE TIME

The Lion King has a poop ton of camera techniques just in the opening sequence. In a lot of 2d it’s applying a blur effect to recreate the use of lenses, but it’s the same thought process. From mimicking wide lenses to standard lenses, to more extreme changes to the depth of field, as with this use of rack focus.

The below first shot would be overwhelming with deciding where to look if it used a wide lens. The 2nd you could argue would be less personal and emotional with the foreground and background elements in focus, pulling attention from her reflection.

We recreate flares and bokeh effects as if a spherical lens were turned towards a light source. And paint backgrounds in a way that recreates the standards’ effect of blurring objects in the distance, as our own eye would.

Arcane does every type of camera trick in the book. Rack focus can be a tricky one with me. I enjoy it when the lens doesn’t come with any extreme warping, and is really subtle. But y’all, filmmaking is just so cool with this god-like control. Thou shalt not see what is there until I deem it necessary!

I could be wrong on this one, but Kung Fu Panda’s all-out playground with depth of field looks like they’re creating a tilt shift effect in some sequences. And I frickin’ love it and wish more animated films went for it. The choice really made it feel like we were watching a miniature world that was real and not computer-animated, somewhat akin to stop-motion sets.

Sigh. I just love the medium, y’all. From all the cinematic language and techniques, on top of the movie magic of simply creating the Illusion of Life from scratch, and making it look like one person crafted the whole shebang.

So to cap it all off, let’s enjoy 2d animation going whole hog with a dang zolly.

#animation #2d animation #traditional animation #3d animation #animation is a medium #animation rant #work #animation camera #prolly delete later #had to get it off my chest

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richincolor · 1 year

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Audrey’s 2022 Favorites

There were so many books I loved in 2022, and it was quite the task to narrow it down. After much pondering, I settled on four books to for my favorites list:

Queen of the Tiles by Hanna Alkaf Salaam Reads || Audrey's Review

CATALYST 13 points noun: a person or thing that precipitates an event or change

When Najwa Bakri walks into her first Scrabble competition since her best friend’s death, it’s with the intention to heal and move on with her life. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to choose the very same competition where said best friend, Trina Low, died. It might be even though Najwa’s trying to change, she’s not ready to give up Trina just yet.

But the same can’t be said for all the other competitors. With Trina, the Scrabble Queen herself, gone, the throne is empty, and her friends are eager to be the next reigning champion. All’s fair in love and Scrabble, but all bets are off when Trina’s formerly inactive Instagram starts posting again, with cryptic messages suggesting that maybe Trina’s death wasn’t as straightforward as everyone thought. And maybe someone at the competition had something to do with it.

As secrets are revealed and the true colors of her friends are shown, it’s up to Najwa to find out who’s behind these mysterious posts—not just to save Trina’s memory, but to save herself.

The Undead Truth of Us by Britney S. Lewis Disney-Hyperion || Audrey's Review

Death was everywhere. They all stared at me, bumping into one another and slowly coming forward.

Sixteen-year-old Zharie Young is absolutely certain her mother morphed into a zombie before her untimely death, but she can't seem to figure out why. Why her mother died, why her aunt doesn't want her around, why all her dreams seem suddenly, hopelessly out of reach. And why, ever since that day, she's been seeing zombies everywhere.

Then Bo moves into her apartment building―tall, skateboard in hand, freckles like stars, and an undeniable charm. Z wants nothing to do with him, but when he transforms into a half zombie right before her eyes, something feels different. He contradicts everything she thought she knew about monsters, and she can't help but wonder if getting to know him might unlock the answers to her mother's death.

As Zharie sifts through what's real and what's magic, she discovers a new truth about the world: Love can literally change you―for good or for dead.

In this surrealist journey of grief, fear, and hope, Britney S. Lewis's debut novel explores love, zombies, and everything in between in an intoxicating amalgam of the real and the fantastic.

Our Shadows Have Claws: 15 Latin American Monster Stories edited by Yamile Saied Méndez & Amparo Ortiz Algonquin Young Readers || Audrey's Review

Fifteen original short stories from YA superstars, featuring Latine mythology’s most memorable monsters

From zombies to cannibals to death incarnate, this cross-genre anthology offers something for every monster lover. In Our Shadows Have Claws, bloodthirsty vampires are hunted by a quick-witted slayer; children are stolen from their beds by “el viejo de la bolsa” while a military dictatorship steals their parents; and anyone you love, absolutely anyone, might be a shapeshifter waiting to hunt.

The worlds of these stories are dark but also magical ones, where a ghost-witch can make your cheating boyfriend pay, bullies are brought to their knees by vicious wolf-gods, a jar of fireflies can protect you from the reality-warping magic of a bruja—and maybe you’ll even live long enough to tell the tale. Set across Latin America and its diaspora, this collection offers bold, imaginative stories of oppression, grief, sisterhood, first love, and empowerment.

Strike the Zither by Joan He Roaring Brook Press || Audrey's Review

The year is 414 of the Xin Dynasty, and chaos abounds. A puppet empress is on the throne. The realm has fractured into three factions and three warlordesses hoping to claim the continent for themselves.

But Zephyr knows it’s no contest.

Orphaned at a young age, Zephyr took control of her fate by becoming the best strategist of the land and serving under Xin Ren, a warlordess whose loyalty to the empress is double-edged—while Ren’s honor draws Zephyr to her cause, it also jeopardizes their survival in a war where one must betray or be betrayed. When Zephyr is forced to infiltrate an enemy camp to keep Ren’s followers from being slaughtered, she encounters the enigmatic Crow, an opposing strategist who is finally her match. But there are more enemies than one—and not all of them are human.

#queen of the tiles #the undead truth of us #our shadows have claws #strike the zither #weneeddiversebooks #book lists

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shadowthestoryteller · 1 year

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Fallen Not Forgotten Ch. 6- Blast from the Past (Problem Child 2)

The long awaited sequel from Chapter 5, and the second problem child lol. I'm still unused to Rex, so his characterization is a bit wonky. I wanted to do him justice since I know how beloved he is, but at the end of the day I can only write him to the best of my ability and that's alright. Besides, I know he'll get better with time :D

Enough of that, enjoy the chapter! Ominousness and breakthroughs for all! Plus a disgruntled Bad Batch at the end lol

CW: O66 hints, inhibitor chip references, sexual references.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scar. This Realm Walker had to be Scar. They had to be! But how?!

That fighter died on Rishi, sacrificing their life alongside Hevy to stop the All-Clear signal from transmitting. The entire base crumbled to the ground, engulfed in a burst of fire and smoke that burned itself into Rex’s eyes and reappeared for days after whenever he closed them. Subsequent excavations and clean up yielded nothing aside from the maintenance tunnels beneath the base. But even they were scorched and choked with ash, the metal walls warped and twisted in a manner that no organic could survive. The eel tunnels hadn’t been decimated, but there was no way Hevy and Scar could have escaped the main room before it blew.

No matter how much he wished and hoped differently, there was no way Hevy nor Scar could have survived that explosion.

He never forgot Hevy, but sometimes Scar too crossed Rex’s mind, the memory of how he distrusted them burdened with regret. He never did get a chance to tell them he was sorry. Sorry for treating them like an enemy. Sorry for constantly questioning every move they made. Sorry… for not staying behind to help them when the detonator didn’t work. Had he stayed, maybe they would still be alive as would Hevy. He let them both down, something he didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself for.

But, now, here was a fighter with color switching sabers that sounded exactly like Scar, down to the weird sayings and snarky attitude. To say Rex thought he was seeing ghosts was one hell of an understatement. Unless it wasn’t a ghost at all, and the Rishi fighter really stood before him. Yet, the intensity of that explosion would have killed anyone inside, and subjected anyone in the maintenance tunnels to a slow and fiery death as the metal contorted due to the extreme heat.

Maybe Shadow wasn’t Scar. Maybe… maybe he was just rattled after having one ally come back from the dead. Rattled and naïvely hopeful. But literally everything pointed to Shadow being Scar.

Cody’s odd behavior. Shadow’s willingness to go through hell to rescue Echo. The amethyst blades that turned red when Shadow was angry. Not to mention that Shadow was apparently one of those shapeshifting fighters, Alphians, that could die and come back. Scar said they had multiple lives, after all. And they’d lost one for...

Their sniper. Who was a member of an unorthodox commando squadron. A squadron with a color scheme of red and black, and the insignia of a skull. A skull displayed on a red bandana just like one Sergeant Hunter wore.

It had to be them!

But there was only one way to know for certain.

Once they were about two blocks from the others, Rex turned to Shadow and lowered his voice. “Shadow,” he whispered urgently, stepping forward. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

They met his gaze before a small smile tugged their lips. “Reckon so, Cap.”

It was them!

“Rishi,” he breathed. “You were that shapeshifting fighter on Rishi, right?”

Shadow, or Scar, nodded. “Aye. Certainly seems that way, and Cody pretty much thinks so.”

It is them! They’re alive!

“How… But you… The explosion! How did you survive?” he stammered, gesturing frantically. “It destroyed everything!”

If they survived, then… Perhaps…

Hevy could have too.

“Not sure,” Shadow replied with a shrug. “Haven’t gone back in time yet.”

Rex’s head snapped back in surprise. Of all the Realm Walker magic he expected, that wasn’t it. “You time travel?”

Another small smile. “I can do a lot of things, Cap. Apparently, that’s one of ‘em. Trust me, I’m as shocked as you.” Shadow tilted their head in concern when he staggered back. “Er, you ain’t gonna hit the deck, are ya?” they asked with an uncertain smile.

Rex shook his head, leaning on the wall. “No. No, it’s just… a lot to take in,” he said with a nervous chuckle as he ran a hand over his shaved head. Why was he laughing? He shouldn’t be laughing. This was no time to be laughing! “Not used to people returnin’ from the grave, I guess.”

Shadow snickered. “Can’t say I blame you there, Cap. I’d be shook too.”

Rex chuckled nervously again, still unsure of what to say. What did you even say to someone returning from the dead after the last thing you said to them was a threat?

“If you betray us, I will take you out myself.”

He remembered the horror that gripped him when the last thing that he ever heard from Hevy was him yelling for Scar to watch out. What happened? Had the droids gotten them? Had the LT malfunctioned? It wasn’t as if he could ask Scar, or Shadow, now. The Realm Walker hadn’t even gone back yet, so the way they survived remained a mystery.

But what wasn’t a mystery was the guilt eating away at him more and more.

All that time I didn't trust them and scrutinized them, they were telling the truth. They were on our side.

What made it worse was knowing now that he was one of their favorite troopers. He couldn’t have imagined how he would have felt if Anakin had doubted him left and right from the moment they met. Sure, they were like brothers now, but at one time Rex had been just a wide-eyed Shiny, thrilled to be assigned to his favorite Jedi Knight.

How would he have felt if Anakin had accused him of being a spy on their first meeting?

Shadow poked his arm. “You good, my guy?” they asked, head tilted.

“Scar- er... Shadow?” Rex began, stumbling over his words as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Continue on Wattpad!

#bad batch #captain rex #clone wars era #OC_Shadow #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #hunter #wrecker #tech #ARC trooper fives #ARC trooper echo #self-insert #realm walkers #clone wars #fanfiction #fallen not forgotten #adventures!au #adventures of an idiot (and the idiot is me)

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aegor-bamfsteel · 2 years

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I read your response to if Rhaegal and Viserion will welcome Dany back after being chained up and I'd love to add my thoughts if that's ok. :) I think there's something of a personality in the dragons, as shown by the books? But it's so changeable and so easily tamed that I feel the question of "do Dany's Dragon's have personalities" is just a big question mark as an answer. But you brought up something interesting. Do you believe in the theory that the DoD 2.0 that we will witness in the books is Aegon vs Dany? I think there's a lot of merit in it, and I suspect that Aegon will, somehow, tame Viserion. Which will indeed make the whole thing twice as devastating for Dany. And then it makes me wonder about the dragon horn Victarion is bringing with him. If say, he uses it on Viserion, but Victarion isn't Viserion's permanent rider, will that make Viserion more pliable to the next person that tries to tame him? Aka, like the horn being used once makes him permanently warped. I say this, because it's the only way I can see Viserion being willing to fight against Drogon and Dany; if his mind was already altered by the dragon horn. Rhaegal however, will be an entirely different beast. I suspect he'll naturally be tamed by Jon and willingly turn on Dany and Drogon, and all that is needed is a final catalyst.

Thanks for reading the response!

About Dragons and personalities: that was more of a comment that GRRM doesn’t bother to distinguish dragons by personality, but instead by color. We know everything about the dragons’ scales, horns, wing, and fire colors but we’re at a loss to say what exactly distinguishes, for example, Meleys and Tessarion other than the color. That’s ok in the main series if the point is that the dragons are dangerous weapons that can be deployed by one person (Dæny) at will; they don’t need personality, and in fact having one gets in the way of them as reliable mass destructive weapons. However, when it comes to earlier history where there are multiple dragonriders fighting each other and we’re clearly supposed to feel something other than joy when some of them die, giving them all consistent personalities would go a long way in making the Dance have a little more pathos, as well as flesh out the dragon/rider bond for the main series. Ask any zookeeper who works in herpetology, let alone with birds (two main bases for dragons), and they’ll say the animals they work with all have distinct personalities. Why not GRRM’s dragons?

Do I think the DoD 2.0 GRRM mentions is Aegon vs Dæny?: Well, yes. The only other Targaryen-blooded person who seems relevant to her story is Jon Snow (not counting Bl00draven), and I doubt he’d fight her as a Targaryen, but as a Stark. However, I’m not sure either of them will become dragonriders. Aegon’s path seems to be leading away from dragons and toward a political/conventional military conflict. As for Jon, while he’s definitely got magical elements in his arc (warging, he saw wights that one time, whatever is going to resurrect him), he’d much rather be negotiating with bankers and counting beets. So I don’t know if either of them will actively choose to seek out a dragon to tame. While Rhaegar did say the dragon has three heads, and Dæny has interpreted that to mean two male dragonriders to stand beside her and provide unconditional trust, both of them have been proven wrong about their interpretations. It could simply mean there are three living “Targaryens”, but instead of the other two embracing their dragon heritage, they’ll fight against Dæny to protect their mothers’ people (Dorne and the North)

But I’ll admit, when it comes to dragons and who is allowed to sit on them, I don’t know what’ll happen. Jon did ride a dragon in the show (once. And he was useless), so he may ride one in the books. It may be your predictions (the horn-controlled Viserion making him shed his relatively lazy nature is interesting) will come to pass in some form.

Thanks for the ask.

#ask #dragons #asoiaf theories

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chuuyrr · 11 months

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dazai celebrating his birthday with his scarlet witch! s/o

bungo stray dogs x scarlet witch! reader

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): possible bsd spoilers, fluff/comfort content

╰➤ PAIRING(s): dazai osamu

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which he celebrates his birthday with you, his beloved who just so happens to be the scarlet witch

dazai osamu was not one for birthdays.

he didn't even celebrate it and would simply consider it as another day as a part of the meaningless cycle he called life.

but that was until you came around.

[surname] [name], his beloved whom he had met and grown to love so dearly since joining the armed detective agency.

you had already planned for dazai's birthday when you found out about it, especially after your coworkers informed you how he just treats his own birthday like any other day, because who in the world doesn't celebrate their birthdays? not on your watch!

"things are going to be different!" was what you told them with a determined gleam in your [color] eyes as they glowed with red psionics.

you organized the entire birthday celebration slash surprise, and it was actually rather simple thanks to your all-powerful "wiggly-woos" magic, which even your lover can't negate because it was a reality-defying skill, but given how perceptive dazai is, it was still a bit challenging for you to lie and hide from him.

it was a good thing you had fukuzawa send him on an assignment so he wouldn't be bored while you worked on the preparations with your coworkers, and you may or may not have had to punish a ranpo-kun when you caught him trying to take a slice of the birthday cake you made.

it was finally june 19, and all of your efforts were worth it, and it was a pleasant surprise for dazai to come to work and find everyone in the office popping streamers in his faces and the entire office decorated with birthday decorations as you stood in the middle of everyone, holding a birthday cake that you baked yourself.

"happy birthday, osamu!" you greeted your boyfriend cheerfully, wearing a party hat like everyone else and holding out his cake for him.

you and the rest of the detective agency watched in awe and happiness as dazai's expression slowly faded into a rare look of astonishment, and it made your heart swell given how he's not one to be astonished given his inherent ability to infer and foresee results.

"you.. you guys didn't have to!" dazai exclaimed, blinking profusely and evidently caught off guard.

"of course we had to! you never celebrate your birthdays!" you exclaimed with a narrowed gaze but still held a soft, loving smile nonetheless.

"and besides, [name] planned this whole celebration out just for you, dazai," kunikida explained with a smile gracing on his lips.

"yeah! [name]-san even baked your birthday cake, dazai-san!" atsushi added.

dazai has had his fair share of relationships, but none of them had ever done anything like this for him, and hearing and seeing how much effort you put into this surprise made his heart race and miss a beat.

the celebration was basic but meaningful. there was candle-blowing, gift-giving, pleasant music playing in the background, happy exchanges of talk, and an entire feast for dazai.

kunikida once let pda off the hook in the detective agency since it was dazai's birthday and you handfed dazai boiled crabs and other meals you cooked yourself in addition to the birthday cake. dazai was a little flustered about it and tried to convince you otherwise, but you still babied and spoiled him regardless.

after a while, you had dragged him somewhere more private after work, where it was just the two of you holding each other's hands.

dazai was once again taken aback when his surrounds became consumed in your chaos magic's red psychic energy, his eyes wide with awe as you warped reality. he watched as his surroundings changed into an environment full with flowers and bright lights hanging from trees as fireflies flew around even.

everything was just romantic and peaceful.

dazai then approached you, wrapping his arms around you and pulled you to him as he rested his forehead on yours.

"your chaos magic never ceases to amaze me," dazai spoke softly, turning towards you after glancing at his newfound surroundings which had been altered down to a molecular level given your ability, "beautiful.. just absolutely perfect, my dear. thank you. just thank you."

"no need to thank me, osamu," you whispered softly, staring into his eyes with a genuine loving gaze, "you deserve it.. even if you don't think so."

"there you go again. reading my mind with your 'wiggly-woos'.." dazai chuckled with a sigh.

"well, it's not my fault your thoughts are so loud and that your ability can't nullify mine," you responded back with a soft giggle.

"that is true," dazai shook his head, sighing once more, but a genuine smile was still playing on his lips as he stared into your eyes, "but.. you know something, dear? this has got to be my favorite birthday so far."

dazai continued to smile before leaning in, pressing his lips against yours as you two began to sway and dance to the romantic music playing softly in the background, "thank you for making it special, [name]. i love you."

"i love you more, osamu," you said back to dazai, kissing him this time yourself in return, holding it a bit longer to make it more passionate and sweeter, "you deserve to have a special birthday, and more special birthdays like this in the future even."

"you really think i deserve special birthdays, darling?" dazai stared into your eyes with slight uncertainty.

"it's a celebration of your life, osamu. of you existing and still being here.. it's not just another year, but rather a chance and a milestone, you know?" you replied with a genuine and bright smile.

you then gently took one of his hands to cup your own face in it as you looked up at him, "you deserve to celebrate your birthdays, osamu, and now that i'm here, i'll always be here to do that with you from now on."

dazai's eyes lit up upon hearing your words.

you and dazai continued to sway and dance, and as the two of you did, dazai couldn't help but think of how special this birthday of his was, not just because of the surprise celebration or the boiled crabs you made in addition to the cake, but simply because of you.

dazai has indeed found the one. someone who actually cared about him; loved him, and it brought a genuine grin to his face, with the empty void in his chest being filled with your light and love, giving him a purpose in life, as he looked forward to celebrating his birthdays in the future now that he had someone like you to do so with.

[ author's note ! happy birthday to our babiest girl, dazai osamu. i hope you guys enjoyed reading this too! (๑>ᴗ<๑) ]

[ join my taglist, perhaps ? @atomi-mi @anonymousewrites @magpiemissy @anqelically @96jnie @lovesick-fairy @soleelia @celestair @irethepotato @nianre @sigmasdarling @lenasvoid @bloobewy @sittingalonereads @weedswitch @achlysyo @youdidntseemehere21 @just-here-reading @idunnomynamesince2005 ]

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yellowmagicalgirl · 8 months

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Lively and Unbroken

If you wrote on your skin, the words would show up on your soulmate’s skin as well. The words would be the color of your eyes, traced by a thin line of white. That was how soulmates worked for everyone. Everyone but Claire, anyway. Ae didn't have words, just unintelligible cyan symbols.

This was written for DontStopHerNow on AO3 for the 2023 Battleship exchange.

CW: Soulmate AU-typical internalized amatonormativity

AO3

FFN

Squidgeworld

Claire had always known that ae was different. Ae had only recently figured out that ae was nonbinary, and even more recently that ae was a wizard. Merlin had confirmed that the powers were aer own and not just Morgana warping aer to her own purposes, even if in a roundabout way of harrumphing about how young wizards were always too eager to get their hands on a staff and wouldn’t think about the potentially dangerous consequences of using such a strong siphon with a fragile reservoir. He had implied that Claire was lucky that the Shadow Staff hadn’t broken aer and aer magic completely.

It wouldn’t have been too bad, in Claire’s opinion, if aer magic was broken. Ae was already broken in other ways, and ae had come to terms with it.

Aer soulmate bond was broken.

Everyone but Claire, anyway. Aer words were cyan traced by black, except the markings weren’t even words at all! Ae had never received actual words, just strange symbols. Aer mom had taken aer to a dermalinguist when ae was young, and the symbols didn’t match any known language on Earth.

“This happens sometimes,” the dermalinguist had said. For some people, the words didn’t translate properly across skin. Since Claire didn’t have any issues with learning languages, the most likely cause was ruled out. There was a link between one or both soulmates having language-based learning disabilities and the language on their skin not showing up properly. Claire had gone on a research spiral when ae was twelve and first got unfettered internet access. Years prior at the dermalinguist’s office, ae had broken down sobbing because ae would never meet aer soulmate. The doctor’s insistence that some people with unintelligible soulmarks still found their soulmates had felt half-hearted even then.

Ae was fine with it now. Really. That definitely wasn’t a lie ae told aerself, just like how ae would get out of bed in the morning and tell aerself that ae was completely fine and didn’t have any significant lingering trauma from aer possession. Ae was broken, and ae was okay with that.

Ae had tried to be the perfect daughter, and when ae figured out that ae could never be a perfect daughter, ae tried to be the perfect child instead. Ae had learned to hide aer marks, if only to avoid the teasing. (Claire was glad ae had learned to do so before ae had met Eli.) Ae was sixteen now, and ae had bigger problems to worry about than aer soulmate bond being broken. For example, Steve had been keeping from them that Aja and Krel were aliens!

Well, Akiridions. Claire wasn’t going to go out of aer way to offend them with a classification they clearly hated.

Jim had said that ae could protect the town when he and Toby had left to find the Heartstone in New Jersey. Ae had tried not to take what he had said as patronizing. Jim and Toby had magical weapons, and the trolls had their strength. Claire was a barely trained wizard with nothing but armored claws and a collapsible bō staff. Ae couldn’t even levitate things, because levitation magic reminded aer too much of what Morgana had done to aer.

Instead, they were at war, again, and the stupid cindorite attacking them had melted down Claire’s bō staff. At least they were safe right now. Claire was going to have words with Jim, to see if he really had just been patronizing aer by trying to give aer a job while ae stayed behind, or if he had known there was another war brewing and hadn’t actually told aer. And then ae was going to have to break the news to Toby that there might be an Akiridion trying to date his nana. Claire wasn’t sure which conversation ae was looking forward to more.

“Wait, were you trying to trap us?” Krel asked. Claire couldn’t blame his reaction. A few hours ago, ae had had to explain to Eli that ae was a wizard and ae didn’t appreciate his ideas for hunting down evil wizards. Ae had only agreed to going with him to set up traps because ae wanted to keep an eye on him. He had been helpful in the past, but the point still stood.

“Yeah, only because someone never told me you guys were cool!” Claire continued staring at the screens behind Aja and Krel. The text on them had looked eerily familiar, but since the screens were buffering ae couldn’t get a better look at them.

“We must stop Magmatron before he hurts someone,” Aja said. “But first, Claire, come with me. You need a weapon, one with more reach than your claws. I don’t want you burning your hands. You can borrow Varvatos’s serrator.”

Krel made a grumpy noise at Varvatos’s name, but Claire ignored him to follow his sister through the halls of their spaceship, careful to avoid the places where the walkways had no railing. Ae didn’t want to fall down into the bowels of the ship, especially since aer Shadow Staff was even more broken than aer bō staff. It’d be just a fall to aer death, not a way to gain momentum through a shadow portal. Sci-fi movies were right about one thing: in space, no one could force you to be OSHA-compliant.

“What’s it like being a princess?” Claire asked.

“A lot of responsibility, and there’s always so much pressure to be perfect,” Aja replied. Claire hummed in sympathy. Ae knew the responsibility of being a politician’s child, and aer mom was merely part of the city council. “I used to try and run away from it all.”

Aja held up the serrator. “You can use this button to turn it into a spear.” She then gestured to hand it to Claire. As ae took it from her, their hands brushed against each other.

Aja’s hand began to glow bright purple where Claire had touched it. Amazement filled Aja’s eyes. “We’re soulmates. This is lively! Wait, no, you’re not glowing. We’re unrequited then, aren’t we?”

“Humans don’t glow where we first touch,” Claire said. Ae rubbed at aer skin, scrubbing off just enough of the concealer that the unintelligible symbols – no. The Akiridion words lay. “This is your handwriting, isn’t it?”

“Yes! I wrote it on my wrist as a reminder to wash Luug after I snuck out to meet Steve. I’ll still have to do that tonight. He hates baths.”

Claire grinned, eyes welling with tears. “It really is you. I thought I’d never find you.”

Claire kissed Aja, fast and impulsive. They had a town to save. Again. Claire could bask in the fact that ae wasn’t broken later.

#ajaire #claire nuñez #aja tarron #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #3below #soulmates #my writing #my au's

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galacticnova3 · 1 year

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Instead of continuing the theme of granting glimpses into the unsettling realities faced by hypothetical sapient spaceships, I’m gonna post about perspectives and expectations versus reality! Aka the headcanons I have about the legends and mythology surrounding Lor based on what little was known about her by people in the past, and then how the expectations those created set up those in-the-know-but-not-quite about Halcandran history for some good ol’ whiplash. And since this isn’t discussing The Horrors I’m also putting it in main tags. As a treat. This is totally not part of my agenda to spread boat mom propaganda to more people.

Most of the legends around Lor stem from the simple fact that they’re the ideas people get about her based on observations without context and a lack of concrete information. For example, it was years after she was buried beneath the Haldera Volcano that it became common knowledge that there were multiple Starcutters that all have the same appearance; her name was just learned first, and with all the warping and appearing wherever in the sky going on people just assumed it was one ship named Lor doing everything. Everything included sailing majestically through the sky with what seemed like twinkling starlight in her wake, regularly cutting holes in spacetime like it was nothing, and overall being mysterious and seemingly ethereal. As one of several exploratory research vessel, she also had ties to the discovery of new planets and territories and such for the Halcandran empire to take advantage of, places that supposedly held the potential to become paradises if properly developed.

This combination of things, and the fact that such beliefs were not corrected for a very long time, led to Lor essentially becoming mythologized into an arcane, divine vessel with a heart and soul of its own that either served as the ferry to Paradise or could lead people there. And as many myths tend to do, things spun out from there, with some also deciding she must be able to don dark and royal colors and rain down divine punishment on the wicked, others saying she is the physical form taken by an angel or spirit of sorts, and a handful believing she is not merely the way to Paradise but actually holds it within. Many believed some combination of these ideas, even if they didn’t actually witness any of the things that inspired them. While at first in a sense they were drawing all the wrong conclusions, in a twist of fate spending a lot of time(as in almost 30,000 years) underground above the heart of Halcandra’s natural magic and below what may have been the most concentrated collection of soul magic ever… Well, it did have some impacts on her magic after a while that perhaps give some of those concepts more merit than they once had.

Of course that doesn’t change the fact that she is not actually some heavenly being of Paradise with godly powers beyond mortal comprehension. She’s a magical spaceship that was stuck in a rock for the vast majority of her existence and nearly forgotten about, who got taken for some teen’s takeover plan fated to go very wrong, crashed and broke, got fixed, crashed again twice being attacked by dragons under different circumstances, and woke up right as shit was hitting the fan. After all that confusion and the joy of saving herself and a bunch of strangers from the void like 3 minutes after awaking from what was possibly the record longest boat coma, she had to come to terms with everyone she ever knew being long dead and gone, the only place she really knew being entirely different and unsafe to return to, and the fact that she didn’t have anyone to go through this with. That was until some fuckin teenage catboy Minecraft spawned in the living room on the brink of death, apparently knew her for whatever reason, and was probably her best bet of finding out what the hap had fuckened while she was away. The medical part of that got figured out but afterwards the two took a while to get everything straight.

See, Magolor thought she just wasn’t talking to him the whole time on purpose; he had no idea her AI wasn’t activated so the person aspect of her literally wasn’t present. Lor in turn had absolutely no context for what she’d been involved in and was super confused how this Small Child(aka short teenager) knew anything about her because last time she was awake was thousands of years ago. The reveal that he’d pretty much taken her unconscious body for a joyride was… Interesting, for the both of them, as was the period of sorting out other miscellaneous but important things. For example, how to interact with someone who is also a something that you hyperfixated on for a long time without seeming weird, or how to gently explain to someone that at least a third of what they thought they knew about you wasn’t true. There were also more introspective things that needed to be thought out, like their respective flavors of coming to terms with everything you ever knew having been taken away and changed. In the same vein, Magolor had to find out how to cope with no longer having his family to live with, while Lor was left figuring out what she was going to do with no purpose to serve or duties to perform for someone else.

Of course they thankfully kinda solved each others’ “fuck what now” problems because the egg came to understand the hype behind found family while the boat decided to spend her new life looking after her new son. The two must’ve had that kind of connection to one another for a reason, right? Magolor really needed someone else with an ounce of responsibility to help him stay on the right path, and also make sure he doesn’t have an accident related to adhd and homemade bombs. Lor needed someone she could look after to have that sense of purpose for her existence again, and to a degree she also wanted someone to be there who could help her adjust to an era entirely foreign to her. Some might say she’s become a guardian angel for him, but she personally prefers the title of adoptive mom. Both because it’s more accurate to their relationship and because she wants him to experience consequences and learn from them rather than simply shielding him from everything the world tosses his way. Oh and because they are prone to mutual fucking around and finding out, impulsive decisions, and getting on Meta Knight’s nerves.

Speaking of which, he was probably even more surprised by Lor than Magolor, if only because he had mostly read things depicting her as mysterious, unbelievably powerful, and willing to do what needed to be done to bring reckoning to evildoers. In other words his expectations were decidedly not for her to turn out to be this curious and somewhat lighthearted computer lady who will happily harbor a traitor and spend time becoming well-versed in modern internet culture. Already not the most respectable combination of traits, in his eyes, and that was before their clashing views of authority became obvious. They got on better terms after Lor found out what exactly went down that led to the circumstances of her waking up, but saying they see totally eye to eye now would be wrong for more reasons than just their height difference and the fact that ships don’t have eyes. Also he’s mad that he doesn’t have the fastest and most advanced airship in Dreamland anymore but he just doesn’t say it. He doesn’t say a lot of things he feels towards her and Magolor, really. It’s for the better.

Anyways the moral of the story is that how history is written doesn’t always reflect the truth! For example someone capable of rending spacetime with ease is not necessarily a godlike entity. They might even like giving people head pats. Or making their voice sound like Moonbase Alpha or Hatsune Miku. Or gaming

#rambling #lor starcutter #magolor #my headcanons #kirby return to dreamland #alright let’s hope I regretn’t this #I am like a cat tapping at a new thing to see if it is safe with main tags #soon I’ll give myself the go ahead to start talking about my thoughts on (tagged) spoilers #but until then here’s me just repeating myself for the nth time but this time strangers might see it #as always regardless of who reads any of this #look how hard I can focus on a fictional space boat FFFFWSFSHSGWSFHHHH

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ceph-the-ghost-writer · 2 years

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The Primrose Path Pt. 1: Capture

Table of Contents/Intro Post

Content Advisory: Discussion/effects of war, prisoners of war/refugees, cultural clashes/misunderstandings, hints of forced assimilation, fantasy racism, threat of annihilation, death themes, death magic, the undead

The enemy caught them in a clearing, just after they’d finished performing noon prayers. He didn’t regret stopping. Judging from the grim but resolved faces around him, neither did his people. Not even the children whimpered, though, naturally, they clung to their families as the circle of mounted soldiers closed in. His eyes flitted to each Mortigean as they came trotting from the trees. None bore any grafted limbs, thank Cyanos. No tails draped down over their saddles. Not a single horn or tusk sprouted through their battered helmets either. More important, their wickedly curved sickle-swords and less flashy yet effective short swords remained sheathed. Perhaps perversions such as extra body parts were reserved for Mortigean nobility. Equipment cost enough as it was—commissioning a cuirass to accommodate four arms, or sandals for bird feet would likely be a nightmare. Despite the doom surrounding them, his mouth twitched with an improbable smile.

At about fifteen paces, one of the Mortigeans raised a closed fist. The others reined in their mounts. Enough space remained between each horse for a person to run though. Whether they’d be quick enough to avoid being hacked down was another matter. To his relief, none of his people tested their luck.

The soldier in charge nudged their tall chestnut mount forward. His people shuffled back, but he remained rooted to his spot, reckoning what came next. Sure as sunrise, the Mortigean stopped almost within touching range. Their attention fell on him and both took a minute to size each other up.

No beard grew on the soldier’s chin or the jawline he could see beneath their helm’s cheekguards. A woman, as far as initial impressions told him. One who was long, lean, and brown as the loam of the forest, like most Mortigeans. Older than him, but not by more than ten years as far as he could tell. Large eyes the color of smoke and filled with a lifetime’s share of weariness met his. She took in the columns upon columns of scripture adorning his exposed—as well as currently hidden—skin. Scripture he'd retraced every week since his ordination twelve summers past with a paste of clay and honey before sitting in the morning sun to meditate. Beige against deep golden-tan, the words stood out as clearly as ink on paper.

“Priest?” Her inflection almost warped the word into a different one, but he had to give the soldier credit. Most outsiders were too intimidated to even attempt speaking Matroian.

“Yes,” he replied, embarrassed for an absurd moment that he didn’t have a clue how to do so in Mortigean. “I serve Cyanos.”

The name had several of the other Mortigeans spitting onto the ground. It provoked nothing more than a nod from their leader. She lifted her arm to point to the long black and brown striped plumes sprouting from her helm.

“Ara Aleqa.” She lowered her finger to her segmented cuirass. “Ife.”

Ah. Rank and name. A good sign—people didn’t typically introduce themselves to those they intended to murder, not even in Mortigany.

Setting a hand on his chest, he noted his thundering heartbeat. “Thịnh Ân.”

The soldier, Ife, considered that a moment. “Tin Un? Priest Tin Un?”

“Close enough.”

She nodded at the people behind him, who instinctively crowded together tighter, children shielded at their center. “Are running from Sern?”

“Yes. A messenger rode into the village before dawn to warn us you were coming.”

Ife’s mouth mimicked a smile, but sadness shaped every other line on her face. “To where?”

Ân could barely lift his shoulders in a shrug from the burden pressing down on them. “Away from the border. Away from the fighting.” Taking a deep breath, he did his best to keep his next words from rushing out. “Are you going to kill us?”

Shaking her head, the soldier spoke a string of words in her own language. Ân understood just the last three—a name—but they explained everything.

Phan Thí Tiên.

It was his people’s turn to spit on the leaves underfoot. While Ân understood their reactions, he was all too aware that The Exile Queen’s soft spot for her former homeland was the only thing sparing them from the sword. Or worse.

Despite the sunshine beaming into the clearing, Ân shuddered. “Are you going to damn us?”

Tilting her head, Ife fixed him with a puzzled stare. His hands shaking even as he reflected how silly he must look, Ân pointed to the sickle sword sheathed at her hip, drew a finger across his throat, then lifted his arms straight out in front of him, doing his best to mimic the blank expression of someone who’d had their soul ripped away by dark sorcery. More than likely he just looked like a queasy drunkard.

Guffaws and snickers broke out amongst the Mortigeans. While Ife silenced them with a hiss, he caught the way her lips kept trying to wiggle up into a smile.

“No,” she told him. “Taking all. Moving.”

“Where?”

In answer, he received a shrug and apologetic grimace. Knowledge above her rank, apparently. Ân bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling something foolish at the Mortigeans. They marched in from their light-forsaken country, drove his people—simple woodcrafters, hunters, artisans, all with families, with children, with elders, with sick—out of their homes. And they hadn’t even thought to ask their superiors what might become of their captives.

Then again, they’d have to care enough to wonder. As much as he wanted to, there was no point in cursing at them. They’d chosen to follow orders rather than conscience, just as they’d embraced darkness. Pleas or sermons wouldn’t change that, not in a day at least. Likely not in a year either.

“Are you going to tear our families apart?” he asked, voice weary and drained from his struggle to keep his emotions tethered to reason.

A dent of confusion appeared between Ife’s brows. Ân gestured to a child of about nine summers clinging to her mother—little Kam and Thoa, the village smith. He pressed his hands together, as close as parent and daughter, before jerking them apart. Understanding sparked in Ife’s gaze.

“No…” She dragged out the word before pointing to him, then Thoa and Kam. Putting her own palms together, she pulled them away from each other.

So, the Mortigeans meant to divide the villagers by gender? Or keep immediate family together but separate distant or non-relatives? Ân supposed it didn’t matter in the end. The tactic would have the same effect: to demoralize and better control their prisoners, keeping the people of Matroi from forming an organized resistance. He figured he ought to be grateful their lives would be spared. Instead, he could do nothing for a moment except silently despise Phan Thị Tiên for not having the decency to die alongside her royal parents five years ago.

“Illuminator.”

The sound of his proper title fished him out of the dark whirlpool of his thoughts. Ân turned his attention back to the village smith. Studied the strong arms hugging her child to her side. Suppressed a flinch as he met the huge, fear-shiny eyes of tiny Kam.

“Illuminator, what should we do?” asked Thoa. Though her expression remained sturdy with determination, her own stare had more in common with her daughter’s than just color and shape.

The question looked far into the future—too far for Ân to see. However, the immediate answer was as clear as the tense, worry-bleached faces turned toward him.

“Go with the heathens. Don’t fight them by force.”

Cries of dismay and protest erupted, but he silenced them with a glare and clap of his hands.

“Give thanks to Cyanos they don’t just slit our throats and raise us back as undead slaves right here. And you forget two of the Radiant Gifts even as the sun shines directly on us: Courage and Tenacity. This may look like the end of Matroi in our limited vision, but surely the god has set us on this path with a purpose. Mortigany may invade our borders and divide us physically, but they do so at their peril. Remember, the word and will of Cyanos goes where we do. So, I say let them bring us deep into the heart of their lands! Watch and listen for the moment the god calls you to action, whether with blade or blessings, then strike with all of your might.”

Hope sparked in his people’s dim stares, rekindling the dying embers of his own. Turning back to the Mortigeans, a vicious breed of satisfaction flexed its claws in his chest to see some of them had rested their hands on their weapons, postures wary. They were wise to be. Resistance took many forms, some only growing stronger the more hardship thrown in the way. First thing was first, however. He had to make sure everyone lived to see another day.

Ân held out his arms, palms up. “Very well. We will go with you as long as you don’t abuse us. Where are we being taken?”

Relaxing only partway in her saddle, Ife gestured northeast. “Camp. Dejaza Negasi will be deciding where to put all.”

“There are elders and children with us. Others who have difficulty walking too.”

After a few sharp commands, about a score of Ife’s soldiers dismounted without attempting to hide their grumbling. Despite himself, Ân let the knot in his guts unravel. At least Mortigeans remembered a few basic human decencies. Horses were a precious commodity, always needed on the front lines, so his own people had done their best to pull those who needed help keeping up in what small carts they had—and in makeshift litters of branches and blankets when they’d run out of those. Though Ife’s orders had more to do with expedience than mercy, Ân wasn’t about to complain.

He kept the same attitude throughout the march that followed. He didn’t have much breath to spare for it anyhow. The Mortigeans didn’t set a brutal pace, but their speed made it clear they wanted to reach their camp sooner rather than later. Though Ân preferred the open plains of central Matroi and always would, traveling in the heat of summer wasn’t for anyone without a sturdy constitution. The shade of the borderland forests made a journey much more bearable. Still, he plopped down with a sigh on a mossy log the moment they paused to rest a couple of hours later. Buzzing legs stretched straight out is where Ife found him. Helm tucked under one arm, she walked over and watched in silence for several moments while he folded and tucked the prongs of a maple leaf.

“What is this you do?” she asked at last.

“A tradition from my home region. We fold leaves or squares of paper into birds. Vultures or hawks mostly, since they ride the thermals and fly highest. Along the coasts they make kites of gulls or pelicans instead.

She swiped away a trickle of sweat from her temple with a forearm, cuirass clinking with the movement. “Doing why?”

“Well, once you’re done folding, you tell the bird your wishes or prayers, then let it go on the wind to carry your words to Cyanos.”

“No plain here. No wind. No Matroi. Old forest. Deep.” Though her tone stayed light, her meaning weighed the corners of her mouth down into a frown.

He paused to stick his hand under one of the shafts of sunlight streaming through the canopy. “Yet Cyanos is still here.”

“Thinking he can hear you?”

“I doubt some trees are going to block him out, no matter how big or old.”

A whole conversation had amassed on Ife’s tongue. Lacking the Matroian words to organize it, however, she could only gaze at him with soft eyes and a hard line for a mouth, as if he were a child tracking mud into the house.

“Many ears, Tin Un,” she replied finally. “Not only your sun god.”

That he couldn’t argue with. Ân watched her put her helmet back on and return to where her horse nosed at the leaf litter, searching for something to graze. As she roused the other soldiers, a strange chill crept up from the base of his spine. He didn’t know what to make of Ife’s warning—if warning it was. The Mortigeans had acted annoyed more than anything else in their dealings with the villagers. They wouldn’t have been so lenient toward anyone who caused trouble, but Ân had confidence the council he’d given his people would hold at least until they were separated.

No plain here. No wind. No Matroi.

Did she mean her own gods were listening? The Mortigeans did have patrons of wind and water and wood, just as Matroi did. What they would care for a lone Illuminator he had no idea.

Unless…

The shiver slithering along his spine sent tendrils to touch his heart. Ân eyed the shade of the trees. The shadows that pooled in the crannies of ancient roots. The hollows and screens of branches that might conceal owls, possums, or other nocturnal agents. But no…Cyanos still had another few hours before he had to leave them in the care of his children, the stars, while he slept. The most infamous member of Mortigany’s pantheon wouldn’t dare show their ghastly face while the sun held sway in the sky.

“I’d like to see them try,” he told the leaf-bird perched in his hand despite the shards of frost stuck between his ribs. “Give me the strength to do what I can, what I must, when the time comes. That’s all I ask.”

Before the march resumed, Ân scrambled up the nearest tree, ignoring the peculiar looks it earned him from Mortigean and Matroian alike. He nestled his little bird confidant in the crook of the lowest branch. Like all believers, it would find its way to the light.

Part 2: Answered Prayers

#beyond & between #fantasy #fantasy romance #fantasy story

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