#one day i will create my magnum opus

[leeeeeeef]

diamant

#my art #ace attorney #franziska von karma #im going INSANE #im going fucking CRAZY #so i already told you all how i made a brush set in the shape of among us crewmates #but these are genuinely the best brushes i have ever used #i used amoguses stacked on top of each other for the chains #i made a scatter brush for the glitter #so if you zoom in on the glitter on her dress you'll see a bunch of little amoguses floating around #these brushes are so good #they have ruined my life #i have been so proud of everything i have made with this brush #i will never be able to go back #one day i will create my magnum opus #and in the desperate search for aesthetic beauty someone will ask me for the brushes i used for my masterpiece #and i wont be able to answer them seriously #god help me

[thesharktanksdriver]

any way the wind blows (Platonic)

So I kinda watch records of ragnarok and became obsessed

This is platonic but later on I might make some romantic scenarios for a few characters

Y/n is based off of scaramouche fron genshin if he didn’t have mommy issues and was a decent person. Also left it gender neutral

Gods and humans had always been divide since the dawn of their creation

Molded from clay in their likeness yet considered inferior for their mortality

Despite the fact their creators were just as flawed (if not more) than they are

This was a reality that few knew or acknowledged, but one that Hephaestus had come to as he pondered one day in his lab

It was no secret he was hated by the others

For he is everything a god isn’t supposed to be

Their supposed to be beautiful and angelic yet he is ugly and deformed

Thrown from Olympus and experienced humans first hand before clawing his way back to his spot in the heavens

Given the most beautiful wife of them all who hates and despises his despite how hard he tries

He is scorned for simply existing just as humans are

Perhaps that’s why he finds better company in them than he does with his fellow gods

Though they are flawed beings they know that are not perfect

They embrace their flaws, and persevere despite how hard they are thrown down

They invent, create, destroy and rebuild again and again

Something in which the god of blacksmithing respects, for even the strongest blade can be melted down to create something even better

In his loneliness in his lab, deep within the smouldering smoke and bubbling magma of his volcanic home

Hephaestus longs to learn, to see, to hear but knows he cannot go to the surface world

So instead he decides to do what he does best

He decided to create his own human, one that would be imbued with the blessing of true immortality

For only something with a soul can be reaped, even gods face that fate if they are wounded enough

But if something doesn’t it will last forever

Hephaestus creates his magnum opus

His human

His child

“From finest clay your are molded, but within your veins lay no blood nor Ichor, but instead pure energy shall power you.”

You are created by his scarred and broken hands that are steady and firm

He makes you an epitome of beauty, something that he wishes he could be

For only something that is considered ugly can know what true beauty looks like

When your body is complete he imbues you with life through the lightning of Zeus

And then he lets the breath of zephyrs wind wake you

Through pure eyes you awaken and he helps you walk

Your like a newborn deer, shaking and buckling legs as you lean to him for help

You look at him with such kindness and innocence

And love

That one thing he had only wanted in his life from anyone

For the next couple of months he’s raises you, teaches you his craft and how to adapt

He is gentle but stern in his teachings, guiding yours hands and teaching you what he knows

Luckily your blessed by him to understand all languages and speak them as well

But despite spending months raising you he had not given you a name

Only calling you “my child”

When you ask of him why he hadn’t bestowed upon you a title he says he want you to decide

For you are worthy of picking it yourself when the time is right

For a long time you ponder

What shall that be

But it isn’t until he tells you to travel, to learn, to live and love like all humans that you decide your name

“And so you become a wanderer. Just know my child that if you ever need help I am at your call. My only advice is that humanity can be fickle but the gods are worse”

And so you begin your travels, through marshes and hills, or mountains to deserts

Through the valleys and into land that is lush in greenery of various kinds

From dusk to dawn you travel, stopping sporadically to stay in places that interest you, with people whom teach you before you leave for the road

It is a cycle

One that teaches you of humanity’s greed, pride, jealousy, rage, hate and despair

But one that also teaches you of their compassion, love, kindness, strength and their passion for surviving despite how the gods strike them down over and over again

They rebuild, they overcome and engineer a solution

For they only have themselves to rely on as the gods turned their backs to them

They adapt just as you do

But you are fundamentally different from them

An immortal being without a soul, one that looks and acts just as they do but retains thousands of years of knowledge you’d collected through experience

You aren’t a god but you aren’t quite human, yet you retain qualities from both

You are in between them but also something entirely different from either

You are you

And perhaps that is enough

“You and I have crossed paths, but our journeys will eventually diverge. Who knows what will happen next? Let's just wait and see.”

You end up meeting many humans (and some gods) in your journey’s but many stand out in your mind

One being the human who later would go onto become a demigod

Heracles who you knew as Alcides is someone you had met by complete accident when he was young

He was being bullied, pushed around and punched by children yet he still tried to put up a fight

He kept pushing on and standing up no matter how many times he was thrown down

You stepped in, sending the children running back scared whilst he gave you a toothy smile

Despite losing and being beaten down he was still optimistic

As you patched up the young boy he explained that those boys had been bullying him and his friends castor

That he never won against them but wouldn’t let them keep hurting his friend

It wasn’t righteous and he couldn’t stand for it

You can’t help but smile as he explains this, he was someone you’d only meet once in a blue moon

So you decide to offer him help

For the next couple of months you help the young boy train just as your father taught you

At first he fails

And fails some more

But he always returns to training no matter how beat down and tired he is

In his training your stern but encouraging

Teaching him to hone his strength and use it properly

It is then he begins to make progress

You show him how to stand up for the weak and to never waver in his righteousness

When you aren’t training him you spend time with him and Castor in Thebes

You buy them proper food and give some extra drachma to take home

They always feel a bit guilty about it but you assure them it’s no worry

You had plenty more (no, literally you had more money than you could spend from being a damn good blacksmith)

Figs are eaten as the three of you watch the sunset along with some honey drizzled fruit

They look up to you like a older sibling and it’s safe to say you view them as little brothers

But eventually as always you must eventually leave

Both are upset (especially Alcides) but on the night before you leave you take them to watch the sunset and stars once again

Eating ripe pomegranates as you explain each constellation that lights up the skies

“There is no need to be sad you two, perhaps we will meet again one day. Even if we don’t I will always be with you in memory and in what I taught. Just look to the stars and remember my stories”

That morning you leave but not before telling Alcides to keep up his training and to keep doing what he believes is right

You leave on horseback throwing to him a bag of coin with a sly smile

It’s many years later that you learn he became a god

A bit of pride swelling up in you along with worry

You can only hope he retained a bit of his love for humanity when he ascended to the heavens

another interesting human you meet is Qin Shi Huang

The first emperor of China with you as his personal Historian

The supposed cursed prince who was able to unite a shattered land under his power

Unlike others who still looked at hims with some semblance of hate or fear you always kept a small smile

Offering the knowledge he seeked with a certain something in your voice as you recounted tales of old

After a certain time he begins coming to you more, wanting to learn more

(Also using it as a way to get to know you. A mysterious traveler that somehow was so knowledgeable that despite being a foreigner ended up in court life)

You are outcasted much like he was when he was a child yet like him you bear it with a smile

When you talk with him the conversations start our formal

But in time he opens up as do you

Not about everything of course but about some of your travels and the sights you’d seen

From far spanning mountains that scraped the clouds to the green fields filled with wheat that made them look like fields of gold

He ends up wrapped up in those stories

At some point he’d come to call you friend

The only person after Chun Yan whom he’d let close to his heart

To see how he actually felt when he hadn’t locked it all behind a smile

As you get close to him rumours spread and it leads to you being harassed by several jealous court members

You don’t say anything, it’s not like it actually affects you anyways but when he learns

He is furious

It hurts him to know you were harmed because of him

That you were hated

Just like he was for actions that were not his own

But you brush it off simply telling him to give them a small punishment but nothing extreme

That in the end your alright and that you can’t really be mad at them

In their eyes your a foreigner who was in a position they could only dream about

It’s expected they’d get mad, maybe trying to drop a vase on your head was a bit much but in the end it didn’t hurt you

He reluctantly follows what you say but remains hesitant to let their actions go

Not long after this he tells you of his childhood, all the pain and loss

But how in the end he killed a god and united the land

There’s something in you that sparks at the “killing a god” part but he doesn’t ponder on it long

Instead the two of you talk

And for the first time you feel close enough to open up about not being human nor god

His ego probably gets a bit bigger when you causally mention that he’d likely go down in history

For your time as his historian he shows you in a lot of luxurious befit for royalty and high class nobles

Even years later you keep them, gifts you’d treasure for the rest of eternity and make sure to keep safe

He was born and bred in brutality so his rather violent ways aren’t much of a surprise but you try to help him find ways to temper it

To see that there are peaceful ways to end a fight

Around 4 years of staying there you know it’s about time to leave and Qin Shi isn’t very happy about it

He tells you as emperor that you couldn’t just leave

That as his historian you couldn’t up and go

As his only true friend

But those orders soon become pleads

And the authority in his voice drained as tears replaced it

During the month before you go he is at your side

Making new memories and silently dreading as hours and days fly by

He listens to more of your stories, to your personal accounts and how they differ to what’s told

And on that last day when the moon is full and you await a horse to take you on your next endeavour he stands by your side

And when the times comes for you to go he gifts you a bracelet commissioned just for you

He gently fastens it to your wrist

“A gift from me, a silent sign that you are forever the friend of the emperor”

“May our paths cross in the future my friend”

“Yes, let’s hope they do”

When he dies on a tour of his land at age 49 you somehow appear before his side as if sensing he was dying

His advisors are confused as he orders them to let you in but they do so in fear of the consequences

You might not agree with many of his actions you’d heard he committed but he was your friend

He passes holding your hand

The bracelet he once gave you is still worn to this day

He only wished he achieved immortality so you never had to deal with loosing yet another friend

But he is human and nothing can change that despite how you and he wish so

If you had a nickel for every time you ran into a human turned god you’d have two nickels

Weird it happened twice but your not complaining

You met Gautama Siddhartha the former prince of Kapilavastu as you took shelter beneath a tree when night fell

There you found him beneath the Bodhi tree that you took shelter beneath in a deep state of meditation

Until you politely asked if he was ok and he answered you

Compared to most you met Gautama is relaxed

He is in-tune with both himself and the world around him in more ways than he knows

You could already tell he was a legends in the making and decided to stick around for a bit to see where his journey would take him

Eventually as he reached enlightenment you grew curious as to why he remained on earth despite being able to go to the heavens above

But he tells you that his word isn’t done, that he wanted to spread what he had learned

To make people happy and to ease their suffering

It makes you happy

Never had you thought a god would do so but you assumed that because he was human before

That’s possibly why he still cared

Even years later when he does eventually go to the heavens you have a small Buddha statue in your possession of many items

As a way to honour him

You wouldn’t exactly call him friend (you didn’t know him long enough to do so though he’d disagree) but he is someone you’d certainly never forget

Raiden Tameemon is another you met curiosity enough at one of his Sumo matches

At the time you heard talk of a seemingly legendary fighter who had yet to lose a match and you wanted to check it out

You weren’t disappointed and began going to show up in the crowds who watched him

His strength was certainly admirable but so was his kindness in donating money back to his home town

So after a match you approached him and went with him for celebratory Sake

You kinda after that became drinking buds with him since other sumo wrestles didn’t seem keen on being around him

He is a lovely fellow one who you swear can eat a mountains worth of food and drink an oceans worth a anything

You on the overhand are technically the same m, you don’t need food or drink to survive you just have it to experience it’s taste and experience

He flirts with you quite a bit but you laugh it off

Taking them as compliments as you comment on his strength

His laugh is loud and boisterous as you both guzzle down more booze

You don’t really get drunk?, so your always the sober one who makes sure to get him home

To a normal person he’d be quite heavy but your able to carry him with no problem

Which gets quite a log of amazed onlookers as you carry him without so much as sweating

At his wrestling matches you’d always at the front of the crowd cheering for him

You know he won’t be defeated but you encourage him anyways

At some point he definitely uses your hat as a makeshift Frisbee despite you yelling at him

Sometimes during his drunken ramblings he talks of how he feels like a monster

You always assure him though that he is not

That he’s a man like everyone else

One who deserves love just like everyone does

It’s a rare moment but hearing that from you makes him cry a little

Perhaps he had waited a long time to hear that

He knows beforehand that you’d have to leave one day but when you do he says goodbye with a smile

He gives you a hug and pats your back with a blinding grin

You promise to catch another of his fights one day and you do

The last one before his retirement is spent with him drinking with you like for old times sake

Slurred singing and messy dancing as you and him walk side by side of the busy street as the moon is risen in the sky

He teaches you to laugh and enjoy a drink when times are rough

Every year though on the date of his death you honour him by having a sip of sake whilst watching the moon

For the moon had is the only remaining witness to those nights filled with laughter

Mr. Anonymous otherwise know as Jack (though your not sure that’s even his real name) finds you on his own

At the time you were briefly stopping off in Britain to check out the Industrial Revolution

So far it’s been disappointing to you and slightly disturbing as you’d seen young children be put on the workforce

Having to deal with hazardous materials and operate machinery that could rip them apart

Oh plus the buzz around the serial killer called “jack the ripper”

Now that in itself didn’t really interest you

But what did was how the media seemingly just ate it up

They speculated and theorized of who done it

Seemingly sickly enamoured by the mane who butchered innocent women who just were trying to get by

Those same victims seen as nothing more than side notes to the man himself

Their murderer

The ripper

At this point your not sure what’s worse, the idolizations of the killer or how the victims themselves are seemingly shamed for their profession

Anyways

Unbeknownst to you Jack had the uncanny ability to see people’s souls as colours along with their emotions

But for you there was nothing

Absolutely nothing except for sparks of electricity? Of sorts that buzzed around you

Ever the gentleman he offers you a spot at his table and even buys you a cup of tea

He insists and you allow him with a smile

You can never pass on a good drink and someone who wanted to talk

Eventually as day turns to night he offers to walk you to your hotel

Saying that London streets aren’t exactly friendly to those alone at night and you agree

It’s on that walk he reveals more of his true intentions

Still cordial and polite but you can tell he’s holding back getting violent if you did not respond

So you respond with the truth since if he attacked he’d figure out you weren’t human anyways

Safe to say he’s very fascinated

For the rest of your stay in England you stick around with him

By your choice as well

He is an interesting man but one that you nether the less find yourself enjoying the company of

He is upfront with you about how he is a killer

And how he goes by the Jack the Ripper moniker after killing the original

He knows he’s not a good person but despite that you see that maybe he’s selling himself short

There’s apparently a secret organization in London that tracks down and kills far worse scum of society

Killing the original Jack the Ripper is also a sign that to you be at least has some moral code of sorts

He brushes your comments off, though you can see that it seems to somewhat resonate with him

You and him often discuss Shakespeare especially since you had met the playwright and even acted in a few of his productions

Though you don’t have a colour he associates your soul with that of a rich Violet

A beautiful colour for someone as beautiful as you are in both body and metaphorical spirit

When your time in Britain is just about up you and him go to see Hamlet

It would be a night he’d never forget since it filled him with joy that he had not seen since the early days of his childhood

He felt at peace for once

Even when you leave you continue to mail to him

Telling him of your travels around the world and even sending a few small souvenirs

When he dies he’s at least glad to have had 1 true friend

“ Aphrodite?, heh. A wolf in sheep's clothing. To exert a higher level of control over people, she puts on a graceful and beautiful front. Most of those who have seen her true colours know of her cruelty”

Through your journeys unlike your many human friends you’ve meet a handful of gods in your time

You don’t go out of your way to meet them

But sometimes fate has different plans

And though those encounters are rare they remain in your mind

For a few examples

You meet Thor when Odin’s Raven Huginn was injured

He was sent to earth to deliver some sort of message and inadvertently got injured

And that’s when you found him, a bleeding mass of feathers in the snow

Yelling swears that would make even Loki blush

The bird is at first hesitant to accept your help

For he saw you as just as human but he reluctantly accepted once realizing he could get nowhere

So you brought the immortal pet of Odin back to your cabin to heal him

Whilst the raven is boastful and full of pride

He eventually begins to like your company as you engage in long conversation with him

Most gods brush him off as annoying so it feels nice being appreciated

He won’t admit it but he might’ve began to get attached

He might not like humanity but maybe your an exception

Once he is healed enough to fly it’s when he is able to alert Odin to his location

And a meeting place is made

You bring him out into the freezing cold

He’s talking and your making hums of acknowledgment as he talks about the gods

It’s somewhat interesting getting his view of them since yours is relatively negative (except for your father and Buddha)

And then he pauses

the talkative raven suddenly leaps from your shoulder and into the air

Flying high as you spot a man…no a god

Long red hair, markings covering his skin, piercing eyes and a large hammer resting upon his shoulder

When you get within a couple feet of him and Huginn the god stares you down

The Raven perched on his shoulder talking his ear off about how you had brought him back to health

It is then you learn the person in front of you is Thor, the strongest of the Norse pantheon

One whom you heard was battle hungry

Though other than that you don’t know much of him

You stand before the god of thunder unfazed

Huginn seems rather surprised at that fact but doesn’t make a comment on it

Perhaps even somewhat amazed at that fact

Thor offers you a reward though he doesn’t seem enthusiastic as he says this

Likely just following the orders from Odin

You quirk an eyebrow

“I don’t want a reward in money, I just have a question for you oh mighty Thor”

His eyes widen ever so slightly but he nods

“What is that?”

“What do you desire out of everything in the world, what is the one thing you want despite being an all powerful god?”

Now that makes him pause

Of all questions be certainly didn’t expect that nor did the Raven that begrudgingly found itself enjoying your company

He answers and your not surprised

“An equal. Someone i could fight full strength and be at match with. That’s what I desire”

You chuckle a bit at this

“I’m not surprised, but that did fulfill my suspicions. I wish the best to you, that you’ll find that one day. Maybe we’ll cross paths again”

And with that he nods and turns around

What surprises him though is when he feels something hit is back

He turns, there’s snow sticking to his hair

But then that-

Your gone, completely and utterly gone when he turns around

The furious wind carrying snow that covers up any footprints

He realizes that by throwing that snowball you were in some way teasing him

Something he’d normally be able to detect before you even threw it hit him like he was nothing

He searches for you for the next couple of years, always searching through crowds whenever he’d have to go to earth for whatever reason

It gave him a sense of something

He wasn’t sure what it was but he knew he wanted to challenge you

He needed to conclude that fight you begun but left for him to finish

But for him he would get to fight you again at a raid Vikings were doing against a village you were staying at

You couldn’t just there and do nothing so you geared up and ran into battle

And that’s when you noticed a familiar red haired god watching nearby

And he seemed to spot you as well since the next moment your engaging in battle with him

The battlefield around the two of you in an icy wasteland is accentuated by crashing thunder and biting lightning as you exchange blows

That the normal apathetic face filled with giddiness at someone finally living up to expectations

The raid is long forgotten as everyone evades the area and you do your best to lead the fight into a nearby wooded area

Trees are flattened by his infamous hammer that now pulsates and cracks at the seams

Flesh spilling out of it as it beats like a heart

You use the trees to bounce off and lead him deeper into the secluded area

Eventually you wear him out just enough to get a hit that sends him staggering back

You could go full power but you decide not to since you’d rather have some cards up your sleeve

And as he’s on the shattered ground, kneeling as a hand is placed over his bleeding chest he asks for your name

You just reply your a wanderer before disappearing into the brush

He’s found by Loki not long after who is confused and somewhat scared at the fact Thor of all people has an almost fatal wound

When he asks the red head simply replies he was training and nothing more

Content on keeping your existence a secret for his own sake of having an equal

Loki doesn’t need to be the god of lies and deception to tell he’s lying but says nothing

Another god you meet is Ares during wartime

You were on the battlefield not fighting but just doing your best to help those who were injured

You’d had a good amount of fighting in your life and had decided to do you best to help instead

And there on the battlefield, bloodied and victorious is the god of war

You locked eyes with him yet didn’t waver

Instead focusing on picking up a solider who had sustained a leg wound

He looks over the human who relies on you and at his uniform

One of the men on his side

Unbeknownst to him someone was foolish enough to try and sneak up on him

But you mouthed the words “behind you” to the god

Within an instant the man is dead and your taking the soldier back to his camp

A small interaction but one nether the less

Sometimes in war you see him but you avoid being seen

Disappearing within the blink of an eye

You’d rather not have your immortal status be known to the gods

There’s a bit of resentment you hold towards him for your fathers sake

Being a lover of your dad’s wife, the goddess of beauty herself

Whilst your father is resigned to the fact that his wife will never love him and goes behind his back constantly

You can’t help but feel angry for him because at this point he’s used to it

Speaking of which

Your father visits you every 5 years on the eve of your creation

Though as he said when you set out on your adventures you can call to him whenever you need him

As usual he is kind and caring

You recount to him your travels

Your friends and all of the advancements in technology the humans had made

He listens with a smile, eyes twinkling with joy at your happiness

On these occasions he almost always gifts you something he’s made

All of which you use on your journey like the satchel that no one but yourself can open

Or your now iconic kasa hat with a veil trailing behind it which was inspired from your times in Japan

And your clothes built to be able to be able to withstand your power when you use them

Hephaestus isn’t used to affection from being scorned by everyone

So he melts when you hug him or hold his hand

You never hesitate to do so and the first time you initiate the platonic action of love he cries

The god of smithing usually talks of his latest invention or what’s happening with the gods

The usual petty squabbles over any inconvenience

being invited to their council meeting every 1000 years yet again but not being told until last minute

He worries for not only you but also humanity

He sees the resentment and disgust the others hold for humans, despite the entire race being moulded after them

They don’t seem to acknowledge that humans are just as flawed as they are

He knows he can’t do anything though

So he just focuses on his worries for you

About how it must be to loose all your human friends

For they age and you don’t

A small part of him expects you to resent him for making you immortal

Yet you don’t

Though yes, it is hard to befriend people knowing you’d always outlive them

And while there were times in your life you had craved death

You came to realize how You enjoy the fact you’ve lived long enough to meet them in the first place

To be able to see how far humanity has come and how far it needs to continue

To watch empires crumble but new ones be rebuilt in their ashes

To meet people like Hypatia or Nicola Tesla, minds ahead of their time only to be recognized for their accomplishments later

Sometimes when he feels more alone than usual he looks at the little gifts you gave him

And it reminds him of how he’ll always have you

The one person who would ever give him love

Something that even his parents had denied him for something that isn’t even his fault

And unlike his uncaring mother and father he’d always give you his love

His care and support

For he knows that someone deprived of that can end up becoming cruel and angry

Just like he had for so many years until realizing there was nothing he could ever do to get that love

But now he realizes that’s ok

they deserve him nor his care

Only his child does

“You want me to introduce myself? I've gone by many names and titles during my journeys. they're all just water under the bridge to me now and you can Call me whatever you like…but y/n is what I originally gave to myself”

When the gods gather for yet another 1000 year meeting Hephaestus feels little need to go yet attends anyways

Perhaps to spite those who wanted him not to go

He sits in his seat of sculpted metal

Normally he barely listens but when the fate of mankind is brought up he becomes deathly aware

X’s are thrown up by almost every god

And he’s left confounded on what to do

He doesn’t put up a sign yet no one notices

And the normally stoic and calm god is left silently panicking

Until a certain Valkyrie makes her appearance

He knew of her well enough

Valkyrie’s were some of the few who treated him fairly since they respected him for his craft of weapons

She offers an opportunity for humanity to prove itself

Ragnarok

An event in which 13 humans and 13 gods would fight to the death

At first not many are intrigued until she does something to ensure they would accept the challenge

She called them chicken, scared to face the humans they had created

Once the meeting is over the god finds Brunhilde and her younger sister Göll

The youngest scared to a T whilst her older sister remains dead calm

It’s there that he tells her that he’s an ally

And that there is someone that she might wish to contact for a fighter

And so she takes his advice and finds you having tea in your home

when she asks you to fight for humanity against the gods you agree

And so Ragnarok begins

#platonic #shuumatsu no Valkyrie x reader #records of ragnarok x reader #travler y/n #ror Hercules x reader #Hercules x reader #ror #ror qin shi huang x reader #raiden Tameemon x reader #ror raiden Tameemon x reader #ror Buddha x reader #ror Jack the Ripper x reader #ror thor x reader #ror ares x reader #ror Brunhilde x reader #ror x reader #holy shit this is long

[liminalpebble]

I've been a fanfic writer for one year! 🥳🥳🥳

My darlings, my dears, my sweet naughty little cookies and crumpets,

Tomorrow will mark exactly one year since I posted my very first chapter of my very first fic (The Refugee) with shaking hands. I was so nervous to release this thing I loved and labored over so much into the world.

@lokisgoodgirl very kindly and patiently showed me all the ropes and was such a steadfast cheerleader from day one. (I'm so grateful for you, darling). She also opened the door for me to meet all of you incredibly sweet people. When I tell you that you've changed my life, I am not exaggerating. You gave me a place where I am appreciated and belong and can be my very odd self, and that's a rare thing.

Anyway, The Refugee became an absolute behemoth. I had a big complicated world in my head, and its characters and plot lines and themes volleyed around my skull at all times. I didn't expect anyone to be enthralled or obsessed with it like I was, but SO many of you gave it so much love and engagement and time. A year later, that piece is still my magnum opus, and your reception of it has given me a feeling I'm not often good at letting myself have...pride.

I'm a weird little mentally ill perfectionist of a person, trying very hard to be more than that...to be brave, and clever, and hard-working, and adventurous, and kind, and generous and grateful. I want more than anything in life, to create things and experiences that mean something. I want to create art and send it out into the world like a love letter. It's the best of myself and I want you to have it. Thank you for taking the time to see the best of me (especially when I have trouble seeing it for myself). Thank you so so much. I love you all so much and I hope this year gives you as much joy as you've given me.

All my love,

Peb

@acidcasualties @lokischambermaid @mischief2sarawr @holdmytesseract @infinitystoner @smolvenger @tripleyeeet @take-everything-you-can @leelei1980 @unlucky-number-13 @unfocused81 @sweetsigyn @veemoon @loz-3 @little-wormwood @littlespaceyelf @glitchquake @viv-annelore @peachyjinx @gigglingtiggerv2 @marcotheflychair @mochie85 @muddyorbs @sailorholly @holymultiplefandomsbatman @thedistractedagglomeration @hellfirenacht @thenerdyoldersister @alexakeyloveloki @lemongingerart @eddiethehunted @fanfic-collection @girl-next-door-writes @fictive-sl0th @mischiefmaker615 @icytrickster17 @ladyofthestayingpower @goblingirlsarah @chokeanddagger @loopsisloops @slutty-thevampireslayer @coldnique @eddies-house @fairyysoup @jennyggggrrr @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @elegantkoalapaper @raccoonboywrites

#peb's friends are wonderful people #lovely mutuals #lovely fanfic friends #sas #Peb is so grateful #Peb's one year anniversary #loki fanfic writer #eddie munson fanfic writer #hux fanfic writer #365 days of unhinged fangirl energy

[fortheloveofexy]

Top 5 vs Personal 5

List your top 5 fics ranked by kudos on AO3. are you surprised by what's most popular to your readers? then provide your ranking of your personal top 5 fics, and tag a few fellow writers!

Thanks for the tag @mostlymaudlin ! tagging @jingerhead @paradoxolotl @exy-shmexy @storiesnstardust

Top 5 (by Kudos):

1. Call Me By Your Name (3.9k, andreil)  

Basically, Neil calls Andrew “baby” in his sleep once, so Andrew  gets flustered and then secretly tries out different pet names for Neil.

This one... honestly really surprised me with how popular it got. It’s my most kudos’d fic by a long shot (2,378 kudos??? insanity). It’s a short little thing, entirely focused around andreil and pet names. To be honest, I have mixed feelings about this one being the top fic, because it’s one of my oldest fics and I don’t really love the prose now. I don’t really understand why it got so popular out of everything I wrote bc it’s never anyone’s favorite fic when I ask, but I’m glad so many enjoyed it!

2. Sweet Enough To Eat (3.1k, andreil) 

Andrew experiencing cute aggression. That’s basically the whole premise lol.

 Anyway, this one is my oldest fic, so I assume that’s why it’s so popular. It’s cute, sweet even! I still like it to this day. Not much else to say about it though.

3. May We Meet Again (10.7k, andreil)

The first installment of the Artist Neil AU. 

To be honest, I don’t like it anymore. That whole AU has problems with pacing, and some characterization issues too. Plus, looking back at the art now makes me cringe so hard. The only reason it’s still up is bc I know a lot of people really like it. Sometimes I think about revising the whole thing but I still remember how big of an undertaking it was when I first wrote it and made all the art for it, so I probably won’t. 

4. The Marks We Make (41.3k, andreil)

A (mostly) canon rewrite from Andrew’s POV with a soulmate AU twist. 

This the first multichapter fic I ever wrote, and one of the earliest fics I ever published, so I’m not surprised it’s high on the list. There are some things I like about this one, and some I would do differently. Writing this fic helped me make some of my first friends in the fandom though, so it was very much worth it.

5. Yes Or No? (35.5k, andreil)

sub andrew & Dom Neil pwp - need I say more?. 

This one truly surprised me. It was meant to be a one-shot experiment, something I wrote as an exploration of my own boundaries and limits. BDSM fics are often triggering for me, so I generally avoid them, but I wanted to write a BDSM fic that I would be able to enjoy and to explore BDSM from a safe distance.

However, given how much the fandom seemed to be against Andrew submitting (and sometimes even just bottoming) at the time, I worried I might end up getting hate for writing it. To my surprise, I did not, and so many commenters asked that I continue it that I ended up turning it into a whole series. 

I’m quite proud of it still - it might just be a smut fic to most people, but it will always be more than just a smut fic to me. 

I do hate the last 3 paragraphs of the main fic though. I was on a kick where I thought incorporating references to fic titles and canon lines into my writing was clever and fun, but now I just cringe when I look at it. Ahh well, maybe someday I’ll change it and tell nobody. Create a little Berenstein/Berenstain Bears moment :)

Top 5 (Personal Ranking):

1.  More Than Words (32.9k, ongoing, neon friendship)

Neil and Aaron meet as kids and become best friends, long before Aaron learns his mother’s secret - he has a long lost twin brother.

I cannot gush enough about the love I have for this fic, this whole story. I can’t talk about it here because I have some insane twists planned (iykyk) but just know this fic is my baby and this story will be my magnum opus once it’s done. I love writing Neil and Aaron’s friendship, I love writing Aaron’s POV, I love the plans I have these boys. It’s still ongoing so I understand why it’s not higher up in the kudos ranking, but I’m hopeful that will change once I actually finish it.

2. A Quiet Self-Destruction (2.6k, andreil)

A character study on Andrew’s experience with depression, and how Neil helps him through his bad days.

I wrote this to comfort myself during one of my own depression spells. It still brings me a bit of hope on dark days. For that, I will always love it.

3. Scribbles and Sticky Notes (11.7k, andreil)

Neil retires from Exy, with heaps of fluff, soft Andreil, wholesome Twinyards, hurt/comfort, MCD and angst.

Hands down, this is the saddest fic I’ve ever written, and I’m quite proud of that fact. I think the pacing is really good, and the gut punches are quite successful (while being foreshadowed quite nicely). The characterization is also spot on, I think. It’s got MCD though, which I think is probably why it’s not more popular. 

4. The Past, Stained Red (4.4k, andreil)

Part 3 of the Artist Neil AU. Andrew has a surprise run-in with a ghost from his past, and finally gets some closure.

This is the only fic of the Artist Neil AU that I actually still like. It’s well-paced, well-characterized, and I still like the art. Mostly, though, I viciously loved writing Andrew getting to close the door on Cass, and I loved writing him acknowledging the harm she did to him as a foster parent. He couldn’t see it as a child, but as an adult? He sees her clearly, in all her failure. It was extremely cathartic to write that. 

5. Catdrew Meowyard (1.4k, andreil)

Andrew suddenly has cat ears and a tail. Nobody questions it. Shenanigans ensue.

This is such a silly little fic. I wrote it as a joke and I still love it dearly, even though it’s very dumb. It’s just very fun to write and to read, and it’s perfect for when I want to blow off steam and write some crack.

#aftg #andreil #all for the game #the foxhole court #aftg fics #aftg fanfics #andrew minyard #neil josten #fic recs #aftg fanfic #andreil fanfic #andreil fic #aftg fic #fanfic

[coinandcandle]

Intro to Alchemy - Coin's Notes

This is a quick primer on Alchemy, what it is, where it came from, and how it’s used today taken straight from my notes. This will likely be a series of posts as the topic of Alchemy is vast despite it being somewhat difficult to find resources on!

What is Alchemy?

Alchemy is sort of like magical chemistry but with some spirituality added to it, to put it vaguely. It likely has its roots in ancient Egypt but spread almost everywhere and is still used today—more on that later. Sadly over time, we’ve lost a lot of alchemical knowledge what little knowledge we do have has been reimagined in a more romanticist way, causing a lot of what was known to be skewed.

The mysterious nature of alchemy is not just in this lack of knowledge, but the texts we do have are often riddled with codewords, called decknamen, that can make the text difficult to read unless decoded. Why? Think of these books as containing "trade secrets", you don't want to share those around all willy-nilly!

Famous alchemists that you may know are Isaac Newton, Paracelsus, and Agrippa, though there are many more exemplary alchemists that you can find here.

Etymology

The modern word alchemy is a bit of a mystery itself --as it comes from the Arabic word al-kīmiyā (the al- being the Arabic definite article “the”), but the origin of ladder half, -chemy, is unknown.

There is speculation that -chemy comes from the Late Greek khēmía means "land of black earth”, an old name for Egypt. Or possibly from the Greek khymatos meaning "that which is poured out”. (EtymologyOnline)

Another likely candidate is the greek cheo meaning "to melt or fuse" (L. M. Principe).

Transmutation; Lead to Gold

One goal of alchemy, the transmutation of base substances into gold—termed chrysopoeia—is possibly the most widely known to the average person. We know now that it’s impossible to transmute base substances into gold by chemical means, but not impossible by other means (scientists turn bismuth into gold using a particle accelerator). Different alchemists had their own ideas as to how to do this but of course, none of them succeeded.

That’s not to say alchemy as a whole is a failure, alchemists through the ages have made some of the most important inventions or discoveries to this day and we know of alchemy as a predecessor of modern chemistry.

The Great Work; Magnum Opus

More than just a creator’s largest or most famous piece of work, the Magnum Opus—a.k.a The Great Work—is an alchemical term for the process of working with the prima materia ("first matter”) to create the Philosopher's stone (wiki).

The Great Work of Alchemy is often described as a series of four stages represented by colors:

nigredo, a blackening or melanosis

albedo, a whitening or leucosis

citrinitas, a yellowing or xanthosis

rubedo, a reddening, purpling, or iosis

These were later expanded upon and eventually came to 12 steps/processes. The order of these steps would vary by alchemist.

Calcination

Solution, or Dissolution

Separation

conjunction

Putrefication

Congelation

Cibation

Sublimation

Fermentation

Exaltation

Multiplication

Projection

Philosopher’s Stone and Immortality

It is a common misconception that the purpose of the Philosopher’s Stone was to give infinite life, it was just meant to prolong one’s life. It was also thought to cure disease and transmute base substances into gold.

Seeking immortality is noted more in Chinese "alchemy", it's proper names being Waidan 外丹 (External Alchemy) and Neidan 內丹 (Internal Alchemy) [Pregadio].

Alchemy in a Modern Context

From my understanding, there are as many approaches to alchemy as there have been alchemists, but in attempts to make this easier let's give it some labels: there are two paths when studying modern alchemy, though these labels are loose as these paths are not mutually exclusive. The two paths are a spiritual path and a traditional path. These are not set-in-stone labels or definitions, and if either interests you then I suggest looking into them more on your own time, there are links and resources at the end of the post to get you started!

Traditional Alchemy

Some folks try to reconstruct alchemical formulas, or even make their own, either out of curiosity or as an attempt to revive the lost art. This approach takes a more reconstructionist perspective and leans closer to chemistry than psychology. That being said, alchemy was not solely empirical and there are almost always going to be spiritual aspects involved.

Spiritual Alchemy

Sometimes when alchemy is used in a modern context you’ll see it talked about in a more spiritual or psychological way. The approaches of alchemy from a spiritual perspective will vary by person, just as the scientific approaches will vary by person.

I won’t go too much into it here, but essentially spiritual alchemy is the idea that alchemical texts are spiritual or philosophical, and thus interpret them as such; practitioners of spiritual alchemy decode the texts from a psychology-based perspective and rarely, if ever, do they involve chemicals or substances in the way traditional alchemy does.

This path is usually focused on self-transformation (or self-transmutation) and doesn’t necessarily use a body of chemical knowledge to practice.

What Now?

Ok so you know the bare bones about what alchemy is and a few of its uses, so what now? Well, you could either wait until my next "coin's notes" post and see what I talk about then, or you can check out the "References and Further Reading" section and get started on your own research journey!

Enjoy my posts? Consider leaving me a tip on my ko-fi!~

References and Further Reading

Esoterica - Alchemy (playlist)

Livescience - What is Alchemy?

Sacred-texts - Alchemy (subject)

Alchemy Rediscovered and Restored by Archibald Cockren (via Sacred-texts)

Alchemy Restored by Lawrence M. Principe

The Secrets of Alchemy by Lawrence M. Principe

Victorian Alchemy: Science, Magic, and Ancient Egypt by Eleanor Dobson (via Jstor)

#alchemy #occult #occult history #witchblr #witchcraft #learning magic #coin's notes

[idesofrevolution]

The Architect

It was supposed to be my magnum opus. Ravenswood- my last creation and my forever home. For years I had suffered and degraded myself in firms filled with peons who wouldn't know architectural integrity if it hit them on the nose, and when I finally finished that last project, it took all of fifteen minutes for me to type up my resignation and slap it on the boss' desk. I'd gotten the severance I'd worked nearly 31 years for, and had built up the name Drake Astramore to a prominent name in the business. Finally, I was free. Free to create unrestricted by the trivial boundaries set by those beneath me.

Work was slow in the beginning, my modern designs never seemed to convey the right mood or tone which I was seeking. Completely dejected, I resorted to corresponding with a peer of my own caliber who specialized in Eastlake-Tradition Victorian revival: James Lafreniere. The man was perhaps in his late 80's, far past his prime, but I did value his insight purely to help spur some sort of creative spark. He insisted on a large, rambling estate on a large plot just outside the city. He envisioned towers, stained glass, mahogany... some vacuous opulence that did not speak to my taste whatsoever. I was unconvinced, I saw Victorian architecture as tasteless fluff and ornamentation. Though, as old Mr. Lafreniere pushed, I suppose I did cave in quite a bit. His design was based on some sort of "sacred geometry" he'd studied while in Haiti some time ago. The man was a dog with a bone, frantically trying to persuade me into confirming his "spiritualist" idea for the house. The more he pressed, the less I firmly stood my ground. After all, I was happy with the layout he'd drafted and with my final additions and perfections to his concept, I was satisfied.

Thus, on that foggy winters day, a mere week or two since old Lafreniere was dead and buried, the house was nearing completion after nearly 13 months. I was coming in to do a final inspection, specifically confirming the four crystal chandeliers that were to be placed in the ballroom. Reynolds, the contractor I had hired, went radio silent two days prior, and I was eager to give him a modicum of advice on professionalism. As I pulled up to the antique wrought iron gates, I was perturbed to see them still chained tightly with a large padlock. I had no key, and had no response from Reynolds. Just as I prepared to go to the local hardware store to purchase a pair of bolt cutters, I saw a bulldozer slowly meandering up the gravel driveway through the dense fog. Perhaps Reynolds hadn't abandoned me as I'd thought. Exiting the car, I stood behind the iron gates as the machine came to a halt just on the other side. The door opened and instead of the middle aged potbelly which I had hired, a young man with a peculiar look in his eye exited the vehicle and sat on the steps of the machine.

"Who are you?" The young man glibly chided from his perch.

"What the hell do you mean who am I? I am the owner of this property. Who are you?" He sat idly staring me up and down, some flippant smirk forming slowly on his face. He hopped down, his massive rubber boots landing in a puddle, splashing muddy water up and down his clothes.

"Mr. Astramore, I was wondering if I'd ever get to meet you in person." He sauntered over to the gates, unlocking the heavy padlock as the gates creaked open on their own. I hadn't recalled requesting hydraulic automation on the main gate, but I assumed incorrectly that it was part of the system I'd purchased. "The name is Jimmy. Reynolds proved to be... unreliable on the job. So the company sent me as a replacement. I'm surprised you hadn't heard."

"I most certainly have not heard. I should like to have known about staffing changes. He has completely ignored me for days now." The man looked down, chuckling under his breath.

"Yeah. The guy just up and left one day. Never called the company or anything. Just poof. Vanished." Contractors. The bane of every architect. Unreliable thieves, the lot of them. This young man certainly mimicked that aura of untrustworthiness, but as the job was nearly complete, I preferred at the time to simply allow him to finish. "The house is ready for you, sir. Take this, please let me know if you need anything from me, I'll be finishing the landscaping for the raingardens today." He pulled off a two-way radio from his belt, handing it to me. I could smell the putrid scent of hard labor wafting from him as I snatched the muddy radio from his sweaty hands.

"That will be fine, James." I huffed as I got back into my car, beginning the two minute trek up the driveway toward the house. As I passed him, I could see the filthy worker smile at me. There was something off about his presence, though at the time I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Again, I believe it was his eyes. So familiar, as if I'd known them myself for a time. As I left him behind in the dust of the gravel, I promised myself I would launch a complaint against these unprofessional ruffians the moment I could.

After weaving past the carefully planned and restored bayous, the white tower proudly peeked from above the tree canopy. The woodlands cleared and before me stood the massive edifice that was Ravenswood. It was primed white, awaiting the final paint job in dark greens and black which I had demanded. Yet another setback I was not looking forward to enduring. The elaborate trim graced the balconies and verandas which were perfectly calculated to receive the ideal amount of sun and shade during the hot Louisiana summers. Each glazed window was placed to maximize natural light in the house's otherwise dark confines. Perhaps Lafreniere was right- this was my masterpiece.

I put the car in park, and exited the vehicle. I stood and marveled at the house. On paper, it was grand and idyllic. In person, however, it took on a very different aura. Dark clouds and fog seemed to hang around the house, giving it a distinct sense of foreboding which I had not intended. Knowing funds were scarce as is, it was too late to change anything. This was to be my forever home, shortcomings and perfections alike. Pressing against the front doors, I entered the main hall, then aglow from the stained glass window and edison-bulb-illuminated chandelier. Lafreniere assured me that the house would be sufficiently lit, and that no dark corners would find their way into it's winding halls. I was disappointed beyond words to see that it was not the case.

The house seemed to breathe with a cold draft that whipped around the walls, just strong enough to notice, but not enough to disturb. While it was certainly built to my specifications, Ravenswood took on an identity of it's own before my eyes as it stood before me. Grumbling under my breath, I began my inspection.

Room by room, I went about with my clipboard and checklist. Bronze lightplates, check. Mahogany waiscotting, check. Brass and crystal chandeliers, check. From the library to the conservatory, the drawing room to the gallery; each room was just as I designed it, yet it seemed inundated with some indescribable weight which I had anticipated from the beginning. My modern, airy, open concept home which I had originally envisioned slowly simmered into flames before my own eyes. It was magnificent, yes. The house dripped character and ethereal essence from every nook and cranny. But was it an Astramore home? Certainly not.

Looking back, I should have left. I should have tossed the clipboard onto the dark herringbone parquet floors and stomped back to my car- back to the safety and comfort of my car. I should have driven away like a bat out of hell from this place and never returned. Yet, in my arrogance, I believed I could salvage it somehow. Thus, it was in that moment, as I was checking the finials on the grand staircase that I heard it. Groaning. Ever so quiet, yet echoing throughout the cavernous halls. I looked above me, my eyes tracking the noise further and further up the staircase onto the third floor. I assumed that it was emanating from the observatory in the main tower, though how I could have possibly known that I still do not know. I ascended the steps, slowly at first, toward the sound. Every creaking floorboard perturbed me, a new construction shouldn't behave as if it had stood for over a hundred years. This growing rage at the destruction of my vision translated directly into a quickening pace. My body seemingly did the work for me as I climbed faster, eventually skipping steps on my way to the high observatory.

Blinded by anger, I could not see the various shapes and figures which I had blown past on the landings, the dark shadows waiting in the corners and cornices. Every ounce of my being was focused entirely on releasing this pent up aggression, built within myself over decades, on whatever pathetic creature dared to whine within my walls. Arriving on the final landing, I burst through the door with the last of my strength.

The shutters in the observatory were drawn and shut, the unfinished plaster and floorboards were illuminated only by the dull light from the stairwell behind me. There, in the center of the room and crouched like a devious little gremlin was some degenerate young man. Tattoos sprawled across his lean body, and his greasy mop of hair obscured his line of sight. The man shielded his face from the gleaming light, as if burned by it's glow. His pants and shoes were weathered and well worn; scuffed, torn, and stained from what I can only assume was some ill-begotten lifestyle of antisocial youths.

"Get out!" I shouted at the boy, as he cowered on the sawdust-laden floor. His hand slowly retracted from his face, revealing what he was trying to conceal. Upon his inked face were two fully black eyes, which seemed to suck the remnants of light straight out of the room. They were empty, cold, and devious. This thing was not of this world, it was not of God, it was not of nature. I stood there, frozen in place as he stood up, easily a height of over 6 feet tall. My hairs stood on end, as he smiled down at me. I turned to run, but as I did, I was confronted by the grinning visage of Jimmy.

"Going somewhere, Astramore?" His eyes were black as night, just like the creature behind me. I couldn't speak, any word I tried to mutter was caught in my throat and merely exited as gasping utterances. Two icy cold hands slowly wrapped around my gut. I could only let out a whimper as I was sharply pulled back into the room as Jimmy leaned against the doorframe, his arms and ankles crossed comfortably as if nothing was out of place.

Tossed down onto the ground, my extremities pulled in every which direction as if bound by invisible leather straps. My clothes were ripped from my body, leaving me vulnerable and cold in the nude. The thing circled me like a predator observing it's prey. I thrashed against my constraints, spitting insults and threats with the last of my energy. I should have realized the intent of their misdeeds then and there. Blinded yet again, and for the last time by my own rage, I could not see... they were exhausting me. My strength depleted, my nerves shot, I was a mere shell of myself. This was their moment.

The thing stood above me, straddling my bony torso, as he slowly lowered himself atop me. With his cold fingers, nails black and skin dirty, he gripped the bottom of my chin, prying my mouth open. With a momentum far beyond the order of nature, his hand plowed directly into my open maw. It seemed to contract in on itself, as if he were not solid, but rather in a plasmic state of matter. As it squirmed deeper into my throat, the second hand fed itself into the orifice with ease. It felt as if I were drowning, yet could still breathe. It flowed like slime inside of me, pooling into my expanding stomach. I could hear myself gurgling and choking on him as his head squeezed into my mouth, the miasmic odor of unwashed manscent wafting from his acrid form. He slithered his entire form within me, my gut protruding more and more with his writhing shape beneath my stretching skin. As his lower half finally slid past my tongue, I could feel the rough texture of his denim pants scratch against my esophagus, I could taste the sweaty leather of his musky battered sneakers brush on my tongue until the last of the rubber sole slipped into my mouth; disappearing into my body.

Within me, I could feel him breathing. Expanding and contracting from beneath my skin. I could just barely cock my head down enough to see my grotesquely inflated midsection wriggling and pulsating. There was no pain, only tightness and fullness inside. From the doorway, Jimmy had lowered his coveralls down to his boots, pulled his rancid jockstrap to his knees, and was pleasuring himself with manic fervor. Whatever was happening to me was nothing short of pornography for him, he savored every moment with bated breath. Though I had no time to dwell on such displays of vulgarity and immorality. As quickly as the thing had entered me, it began to spread.

I cocked my head toward my arm, as I watched the protruding outline of the thing's hand slowly snake towards my own from under my skin. I could see it's added mass inflate my musculature as it slid effortlessly past my elbow and up my forearm. It's fingers pushed into mine like a hollow latex glove. His stature considerably larger than mine, I could see my entire arm stretch outward, and his own muscles falling into place within mine. In just a few seconds, my arm had grown, large biceps and colorful tattoos seeping up through my dermis until it was unrecognizable. I observed it in horror as I felt my second arm endure the same process, though my gaze was thoroughly cemented at the strong, youthful, virile arm which once was mine.

My legs soon followed suit, my thighs ballooning outward with firm slabs of muscle as the outline of the thing's massive feet barreled down toward my own. Hairs sprung up like weeds across my inflating calves and quadriceps, until I could feel the slimy pressure of his foot sliding into mine. My body again stretched to accommodate his frame, feeling the soles of my massive sweating feet slide across the hardwood floor until it was finally fully in place. My toes wriggled against my will. A stirring in my groin, and my worn hands pawing at my privates signaled his insertion there as well. Every slick sweaty pump of my member seemed to thrust his into mine further and further. It was quickly engorged, thick and dripping with pre as my balls swelled with his thick, unholy seed. The foreskin tightened around my tip, slick and dripping, and there was then only one part of me left that was untouched.

I could feel him pressing up my throat. It's head firmly making it's way up my esophagus, his face protruding from beneath my sweating skin. There was no fight left in me, all I could do was close my eyes and pray that oblivion was not as empty as I had assumed. With the very last of my strength giving way, there was no resistance as it's head shot up into my skull. Everything went dark almost immediately, there was no light, and an atonal ringing in my ears distorted the squelching and cracking noises I could faintly hear as it adjusted my face atop his. Feeling his plasmic form beneath mine, integrating itself into every possible crevice, nook, and space; it was maddening. I felt myself begin to drift away... disconnected from my corporeal tether. The last thing I could see before I finally wasted away into the unknown was my blurred reflection in the mirror, a face no longer my own, merely a shadow of who I once was. I bitterly accepted this fate. I let him have that sweaty, smelly, vulgar body... it was all his. The lights went out, and all was silent.

----

New Orleans Tribune, December 20th, 2022:

Local Architect Declared Dead After Week Long Search Efforts

Recent attempts to locate Drake Astramore (69) of Thibodaux have been called off by New Orleans authorities after a week of searching through the architect's sprawling estate. Neighbors to the gated complex reported faint screams coming from within the mansion, even from a 1/4 mile away, which led investigators to deliver a search warrant to the residence.

Upon arrival, authorities were met with the groundskeeper of the premises, James Lafreniere (25), who explained Astramore had disappeared during a routine inspection of the mansion, which was at the time nearing completion:

"He was only in there for a few hours. I wish I knew what could have happened to the guy. But I am so glad that his son has decided to take up the torch on the house. It wasn't all for nothing, then."

While Astramore had no family to speak of, the few who knew him personally described him as "difficult" and "degrading," often going to far lengths to place himself above others. In fact, a number of former coworkers at architecture firm Guillory, Darensbourg, & Combs alluded to mysterious dealings with an unidentified elderly man during the design phase of his home, described as having a "dark energy" about him. While there is no evidence to support foul play at this time, investigators have not ruled out furthering their analysis into these claims.

As for Ravenswood Estate, it has now fallen into the hands of the missing architect's son, Drake Astramore II (27). A self-proclaimed "spiritualist," the young man plans to give tours of the sprawling mansion dedicated to the mysterious and unusual process of design of Ravenswood. Joining with his partner in business and in life, James Lafreniere, the duo intend on opening a bed and breakfast type model for the horror inclined.

"I didn't know my pop all that much, he never really acknowledged me or anything. But I'm happy to show the world what he created. This place is special, it was designed to be special. There's an magnetism here that gathers together the essences of many, many of the dearly departed. If you don't believe me, come take a look. I'm happy to show you around. I guarantee you'll leave a completely changed person."

#male possession #male transformation #ghost possession #badass transformation #architect #original #gay transformation #gay possession #body horror #musky #punkification #male tf

[celestiall0tus]

Knight of Rebellion, Night Blue Pearl

Y'all will be seeing a plethora of these designs popping up from my SU days. This here is my magnum opus of armor designs. The original thing took me 9 hours to create, including the design, outline, and coloring process. And I just, I love her again. This design was something to some people back then. And she was something to me too.

A knight I created before the fifth season. One that when she formed, was off color from the get go. She was far from subservient, but a rebel without a cause. Until she found one, much like Rose Quartz did. She fought for liberation, sanctuary, and the future.

And here's the original traditional piece

#steven universe #su #pearlsona #gemsona #oc #gem oc #pearl oc #knight #digital art #design #alternate universe #au #celestiall0tus #fushion-frenzy #redraw

[abiiors]

Edinburgh

A/N: Anon who's sent me two more requests, if you're reading this one, I'm so sorry I'll get to that one I promise 😭

Matty Healy x Reader

‘How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions,’ you groan into the pillow. 

‘Come on,’ he laughs, ‘you’ve got a broken leg, baby. It’s not the end of the world.’

You shoot a glare his way at that. ‘We were supposed to be in Edinburgh this weekend. I was supposed to be walking down cobblestone streets.’

‘Well, you’re the one who decided to “rescue” that cat from our roof.’

‘Because I thought it was stuck!’ you defend vehemently. 

‘You just jumped at the opportunity to kidnap another cat.’

There’s no point denying it. Your attempts at getting as many cats as you can aren’t exactly subtle to him. So you just huff in silence and mutter a few words about being bullied. 

‘Besides, Edinburgh will still be here in three weeks when your cast is off.’

This is a childish grudge, you know it is, yet you cannot help but pout at him, ‘well, what if it isn’t!’

‘Then I will personally, with my own two hands, build you a new Edinburgh. Brick by brick, I promise.

‘Melodramatic,’ you laugh; finally crack a smile for the first time that day and his whole face softens at that. 

He scoots closer to you on the bed and takes your broken leg in his lap. It’s covered in a very cheerful-looking yellow cast which makes you hate it even more. He’s also taken to doodling on it whenever he feels like it. So far it has—a cat, a very wonky-looking box with 1975 written inside (courtesy of George), “get well soon” messages + signatures from all four of them, and what looks like a flower? (it could honestly also be a sunny-side up). 

He grabs the marker he keeps on the bedside table for this explicit purpose and starts drawing a few lines. You strain your neck to see what it is and soon it becomes clear that he’s trying to draw the Balmoral Clock. 

‘The artistry, mmm, outstanding!’ you giggle. 

‘Stop teasing me, I am trying to bring Edinburgh to you.’ 

You lean back again and let him continue. His lips are parted in concentration and his curls keep fighting to escape the headband he’s put them in. One, in particular, manages to escape and falls on his eyebrow in just the most spectacular way possible. It feels like a scene from the movie, this. The bed is messy in just the right way and the sunlight that streams through the window creates the perfect soft halo around him. 

‘What are you thinking,’ he asks without looking up.

‘That I should auction that cast on eBay once they take it off,’ you snicker as he gives you an unimpressed look and goes back to putting the final touches on his magnum opus. He even goes as far as drawing a very elaborate M that’s surrounded by tonnes of little hearts.

Then he bends down to place a small kiss on your cast, just above your broken ankle. 

‘Hmm, Healy, is there a kink I should know about?’ you tease.

‘You twat,’ he chucks the marker cap at you in response, ‘I’m never doing anything nice for you again.’

‘Aww no! Okay, I will frame the cast once it’s off, I promise.’ 

‘You better,’ he says as he crawls back next to you and presses his lips onto yours. 

#matty healy imagine #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 #matty healy drabble #drabble #asks #fluff #matty x reader #edinburgh #domestic fluff #fluff fic

[phantomarine]

Hi 💙 Been following Phantomarine since I found it a few months back.

I'm really curious about where Phantomarine "started" for you? You've said it feels like your magnum opus story, and from some of the comments you've left under the pages if sounds like you have a lot of it planned well ahead (if not fully plotted out). Do you feel like it was a case of being struck by a specific character/visual/world-concept/theme that demanded to be brought to life, or was it more of a collection of artistic/story goals that coalesced to form Phantomarine over time?

I adore how distinctive the visual style and worldbuilding has been so far, so I'd love to learn more about the story-behind-the-story.

It started as an amorphous blob of things I love to draw - ocean stuff, boats, ghosts. I knew I wanted to create something, but I didn't know what its core plot was. There was a rough central theme around Phaedra being her own worst enemy and needing to improve, but there was no reason for it other than 'it would be interesting to write.'

Then Cheth came into the picture, and suddenly she had both an internal and external enemy. But what was his deal? Because he had to have a deal too. Both of them needed motivations, a reason to clash, and maybe a reason to find common ground.

One day at work it hit me what that common ground would be, and I sobbed openly at my desk. And it was all basically set at that point.

Some details have been added over the years for flavor, but the core theme/plot/conflict came from that one singular realization. Sometimes that's all it takes.

#phantomarine #ask response

[focusontheheart]

Meet the Team - @boobaloof

Hi! My name is Babs. I worked on Aloy’s lineart for the Erend route on FOTH! I first discovered Horizon when I purchased my first ever PS4 in 2019 (The version that came with Shadow of the Colossus, God of War, and Horizon). I had been a bit adamant on playing it at first, seeing as how I sucked major ass at managing the Ps4 controls— but when I got over myself and bravely opened the game, I got thrusted into the most beautiful, lush world that soon dragged me under in the most blissful of ways.  From that day onwards, my creative side took over, drawing and writing to my heart's content. I’m a deeply creative person who didn’t quite have that something to create about back then— so when I  played this game, I fell in love. I could finally let that creative side of me thrive freely.

See the Q&A with Babs below the cut!

Q: What is a favorite piece of work you've done (i.e. completed, working on, in concept)?

I personally can’t choose from my artworks because— I mean, who knows what comes next. I know I’ll always one-up myself for the next one, so just choosing one is pretty difficult. I feel a special connection to each of my pieces, each telling a different story and showcasing what techniques I knew back then. 

But if I had to choose, I’ve been quite proud of my latest Ereloy piece— That one where they’re kissing in the middle of the smoke in the battlefield? Yeah. This one.

When it comes to writing it's completely different. My favorite piece, my magnum opus thus far, has been and will probably always be Allow.  That was a monster of an emotional fic for me and where I pulled at my own hair the most during the process. Building that ‘something-special-between-two-people’ in writing is such a difficult process— and a frustrating one for me, too, seeing as I’m a very emotional person.

Q: What are some of your favorite tropes to write, draw, or read?

I am very corny and very bitter. I like character introspection, angst, and character studies, I like drawing/writing/watching relationships develop and create small pockets of reality where everything feels like a dream. 

Friends to lovers is a must for me, and I like Modern AUs every now and then, too. 

Also— I adore re-imagining characters in different styles and worlds, be it canon or AUS. It’s fun to play around with what’s been established and translating into other AUs while keeping what makes the characters them, well, them. It’s also one hell of a creative exercise. 10/10 would recommend.

Q: What is an unexpected or fun fact about you?

Marine biology student over here! I’ve always loved the planet I live in, and the life it nurtures— I used to be a rowdy kid with an unhealthy obsession with wildlife, animals, dinosaurs, and adventure. Having a limitless source of undying curiosity didn’t help, either— so, this is the life I’ve chosen for myself. 

I hope to bring honor to it one day.

Q: What has been your favorite thing about working on this project so far?

Watching it all come together! It’ll be like this massive book with many different stories and special moments– who doesn’t love stories made with the utmost love and devotion? That aspect alone is what makes them special. 

And this project is certainly special.

Working with the Erend team was super fun, too. Balancing life and working on the project certainly taught me many things! Especially when the outcome is just. so. good–!

#focus on the heart #foth #foth dating sim fangame #foth visual novel fangame #horizon forbidden west #meet the team: artists and writers #artist: boobaloof #aloy x erend

[nrdmssgs]

How to not motivate your favorite author to write

So recently this happened to a very dear friend of mine. And then this happened. I'm not tagging her deliberately, to not drag her name into any shitshow. I love her dearly and will fight with tooth and claw for this person.

I will be referring to my personal experience not because I want to make this 'a story about precious me', but because I can guarantee, that overall pattern of creative process will go along with these examples, and I don't want to torture others with interviews on their particular creative process examples.

I want to address that anon and talk a bit about how creative processes work. I am not a writer, but I have two art degrees, so I just happen to know a thing or two about creativity and its ways in human brains.

How creative process differs from creative outcome

Imagine a situation: you roam around your favorite network and find this one cool author, that seems to create something especially for you. I like their characters, their storyline, their ways with the language and overall scenery. You and them seems like a match made in heavens. There is only one 'but': you crave more.

You find your perfect fic, you read every chapter and end on a painful cliffhanger, poor you? But what if I tell you, that to complete this chapter, your favorite author had to process a ton of information, their own suggestions, 'what ifs', questions around every single detail, different dialogue and action options? What you see is a perfectly cut ice cube, but it took a freaking iceberg to make it. By the way, the same goes for illustrations. Remember this short comix?

Well, it took a day to create it, and actually drawing it took only 4 hours. Another 8 hours were spent on concept. Here are just 2 pages of my ideas, and I have like 8 pages of this.

And sometimes authors don't even write down their draft thoughts, but it doesn't mean, these thoughts doesn't exist. We are thinking about our stories while going for groceries, driving a car, doing laundry, taking shower and so on.

So if you read something, that is one-page long - it doesn't mean, that your favorite author spent an average 'fill one page with text' time interval to create it. You are reading an outcome, while the author went through the entire creative process!

How creating one thing may help you to create another thing

Sometimes you need to practice, just to get to know a new character/situation.

I had such difficulties, writing Nikto, that I wrote this and this just to bring this marvelous character to the latest part of my ongoing series. Yes, it took me a month to figure out this character, but it was worth it. So please, bear with an author, that makes little attempts, before going back to their magnum opus. Sketches and renders can and will help them evaluate the story, that you`ve fallen in love with in the first place!

Sometimes you need a break.

If you thought, reading some angst was not easy - just know, that writing it was also not easy. Sometimes authors speak on deeply personal topics, sometimes they express their negative emotions through hard and draining scenes and stories.

And before you say 'oh, but the author knew in advance what is yet to happen' - let me remind you, that the author relieves everything, their characters go through.

Creating something completely knew helps author to gain powers, to take a step further, to breathe and calm down.

Sometimes you just feel like shit.

You wake up, revisit, what you wrote yesterday, and you hate it. And you hate yourself for setting the bar so low. And a very right thing to do at this moment is to get yourself distracted by something completely new. Or even to force yourself to not go back to creating for a bit, so that your 'creativity muscles' get some rest.

So please don't be disappointed by your favorite creator for paying attention to other media/fandom/story/character. It may be their way (long and complicated) to go back to that very work, you liked so much.

What doesn't motivate authors

Punching them with 'hey, stop whatever you're doing and go back to that thing, I LIKED'. This will only make your fave creator freeze in a cycle of self-hate, diffidence, art blocks.

Comparison of their works. "Your Ghost fics are top, so stop writing about Gaz and turn into a full time Ghost praiser". Again, this won't motivate your fave to change their writing habits or preferences, this will make them fill guilty every single time they create something against your preferences. That 10-30-50 sketches with Gaz will eventually help them go back and write something for Ghost!

#nrdspeaks #nrdmssgs

[sflow-er]

Some thoughts on writing and posting fic

In the last few days, there have been some lovely posts by fic writers, encouraging an anon who was thinking of posting their first fic but worried about readership. That kind of got me thinking as well, especially as my magnum opus just reached a bit of a milestone on ao3:

Those 50,000 hits (and 1,151 kudos) blow me away, and I'm forever grateful for each and every one of them - but this isn't a post about that. It's a post about how there is no point in comparing these stats to my latest fic, which will take a while to even break 500 hits (and hopefully 50 kudos). Or any of my other fics, for that matter.

Below are some of my personal thoughts on fic writing, the factors that I believe affect the popularity of a fic, and the motivational impact of engagement. My perspective is obviously that of a niche writer, but I think these observations could also be of interest to new writers or anyone struggling with such comparisons. I'll put a cut here because this got very long, but the TL:DR is this:

I write for myself, not for my readers. I post for my readers, not for the numbers.

A quick bit of background info: I have a pretty long history of sharing my writing. When I was little, I used to make comics & picture books for my younger brother, and in secondary school, I used to write stories in my English notebooks that only my teacher ever got to read. In my teens, I wrote fanfic in a couple of obscure fandoms and even a novel-length original story. The readership was just a handful of people, including my closest Internet and IRL friends, and I was very happy with that.

Before YR came along, I had not managed to write a creative text in over a decade. My studies and work had put out the spark, and I thought it was gone for good. So when YR reignited it, I very much started writing for myself. I'm sure every writer knows that feeling of something taking shape in your head and begging to be let out, as well as the satisfaction of seeing it all come together on your screen. At least I really hope they do.

Still, I knew right off the bat that I wanted to share the fic. I didn't care how many people read it, I just really hoped someone would. I missed the feeling of seeing people get joy out of something I created and connecting with them through it. Especially as I didn't have any other outlet for my YR thoughts and feels at the time. I also wanted to contribute something to the fandom that helped me regain this long-lost part of myself - and of course I could use some encouraging feedback too.

So that was how my magnum opus started out, and because of the timing, it became more popular than I imagined. The fandom was young (I started posting in August 2021, S2 wasn't even confirmed until September) and everyone was just really hungry for more. The vast majority of fics were focused on Wilmon from the start, but people were interested in pretty much anything exploring the rich and still largely undiscovered world of the show. My fic was niche and I had neither the guts nor the platform to promote it, but many people still found it.

I consider myself unbelievably lucky to have started posting at such an opportune time. The fandom has evolved in these 2+ years, and things are quite different for authors starting out now.

For one thing, the chorus of writers has expanded as more people have discovered the show and been inspired by it. As wonderful as that is, it does make it harder for any single voice to stand out. I think promoting one's work in fandom spheres such as tumblr and writing compelling tags and descriptions on ao3 has probably become more important, and of course it also helps if you've got some existing readers who follow your work.

Because for another thing, the readership has changed. Some fans have either left entirely or only follow their favourite writers now, while others have joined. New fans tend to start with the fandom classics, other wonderful recommendations, or the fics with the most kudos or comments. Which makes a lot of sense when there are thousands of fics to choose from, but it inevitably puts newer and more obscure writers at a disadvantage. Furthermore, it feels as if the number of readers who prefer completed fics may have increased, as people have seen some fics get abandoned along the way (and they now have more completed works to choose from). Again, that's very understandable, but it can feel discouraging to multi-chap writers.

I also can't help but wonder if there's been a shift in the fandom's interests, especially since S2. There's more canon to follow or disregard now, and people have had more time to develop fanon and their personal headcanons. All that affects what they want to read.

For example, the developments in S2 may have put some people off certain characters/ships/dynamics or made them fall in love with others. They may have started curating their reading to their hopes and expectations for S3. Some might even favour AUs to avoid speculation or guarantee Wilmon endgame, or they might long for fics solely focused on Wilmon and their love after they spent so much of S2 apart. There's nothing wrong with any of these approaches - but they do curb the already lower interest in fics focused on other characters, gen fics, rarepairs, unusual takes, and so on

To circle back to the example of my first fic, it would not get that kind of engagement if I started posting it now. It might be more popular than my other fics thanks to Wilmon featuring prominently as side characters, but it would still be outsider POV. In fact, even readers interested in the characters I focused on might be deterred by, say, the slow burn and lack of sexual content (now that those characters are a more established non-canon side ship and there's more fic available).

In a lot of ways, it's paradoxical to even speculate on this. If I started my first fic now, it would either be a totally different story (compliant with S2), or it might not be finished at all. What those 50,000 hits don't tell you is that a large portion of them were people checking for updates. The project completely took over my life for 10 months, and I doubt I would've got through some of the rough patches without the wonderful readers who were excited to follow it as a WIP, even when my updates got sparse from all the stress. My other fics would either not exist at all or have far less engagement if it wasn't for the loyal readers left over from that first fic, and the first fic wouldn't have as many reads without all the people who have reread it (as I know some have). And of course it is now also benefiting from the large number of existing kudos.

Anyway. My point is that comparing stats is neither fair nor useful, and that doesn't just apply to my own fics or niche fics in general. Every fic is published at a certain point in time or over a certain period of time, in a fandom that is always in flux. The things that inspire us as writers may not align with the interests of the readers - or even if they do, the readers might not notice or be aware of it.

So the question is, how to reconcile the need to share your work and connect with people with the ever-changing odds of those people finding your work?

I'm not going to lie, sometimes it is extremely hard. I often feel really low and doubt myself a lot after posting, but I think I've made it to a point where I don't get too caught up on it anymore.

One key thing is to draw a distinction between the writing and posting. The writing itself should always be primarily for me, because it's my creative energy, time, and effort that goes into it. I should be able to retain that feeling of satisfaction and pride in the story itself, because if I hang my hopes on the audience and they simply don't find the fic, I will just feel like it was all wasted. The value of the fic and especially my value as a writer cannot be tied to anyone else's reaction or lack of it.

Still, the two distinct parts of the process are never completely separate for me. I'm sure they can be for some writers, but I do need that feeling of connecting with people through my creations, and the extra motivation to stick with the effort (to get through longer projects, or to start new ones).

So the second thing I do is, I try to hold on to the mindset I used to have as a kid or teen writing for my brother, my teacher, or my friends. To internalise that my readers aren't numbers on a screen, but real, human people who have taken an interest in this thing I've created. They've allowed me to share it with them and had thoughts on it (whether they put those in a comment or not). Maybe it was just a moment's diversion for them, or maybe it actually moved them. Either way, we connected for a while.

Here, I must acknowledge again that I am incredibly privileged. I've got a handful of regulars who have been reading me since August 2021, and another handful who have jumped on board along the way. Many of them not only read but also comment on what I post. Even that latest two-parter I mentioned at the start has 19 comment threads, and I'm fully aware of how rare and precious that is.

But the fact remains that the contrast to my first fic has still been an adjustment, and I find that thinking about engagement in terms of people rather than numbers has helped me put it into perspective.

I could never find a room full of people to read my writing in real life, but there they are, reading it on their phones or computers and leaving twenty hits on my fic. Every person leaving kudos is basically equivalent to my teacher returning my notebook with that single check mark that meant "I read this and I enjoyed it." As for the individual comments, they aren't too different from my very small group of friends in high school telling me they loved something and couldn't wait for more. In a way, they're even more amazing, because these people don't even know me, but they are still investing their time and emotions into my fics!

Of course this mindset also has its pitfalls. I often feel like I'm letting people down by not writing faster, for example, but that's just one more thing I need to work on. All in all, I feel like I'm definitely on to something here, so thank you for letting me share these thoughts with you!

#young royals #young royals fanfic #young royals fic #fic writing #writing motivation

[fragilecapric0rnn]

tagged by my lovely friends @gothbat99 & @fastcardotmp3 ❤️

rules: post five of your favorite fics that you've written and talk about why you love them. tag some mutuals so they can do the same and we can all spread some positivity about our writing ❤️

in order from most to least hehe

Anyway, It's About Old Friends My (unfinished) magnum opus. My heart and soul on full display. I love this fic with all my heart. I love this Steve and Eddie with all my heart. Writing an AU based on my favorite movie of all time but staying true to who these characters are has been so much fun and honeslty has taught me a lot about how I write long winded stories. Writing their struggles, especially writing Steve in this fic has been such a joy and a pleasure. It's on a brief pause as I wait for the WHMS bug to bite me again (its coming on fall and winter so its bound to bite me any day now). But I love this story and will always hold it close to my heart.

Catch Me (I'm Falling) This fic. Lol. This FIC. I know, I know, she was offline for a bit BUT she's back baby! In a different sense, this fic is also my heart and soul on full display. A lover of romantic comedy, wanting to write something that brings light and joy and laughter, much like the romcoms I love have brought me <3 Also, one of my favorite characterizations of Steve that I have ever written tbh! Bitchy Steve you will be my muse in any and everything that I wriiiiiiite!!!! Writing this fic also taught me that burnout is real and that I need to re-fucking-lax, no matter how much a story excites me lol.

Faces Freedom With A Little Fear JJ Harrington, our communal wife 💗 No but fr, Steve Harrington has always given me younger brother of an older sister vibes. Idk if its because I'm an older sister of a younger brother or what, but it works! I also loved creating an OC that was pretty three dimensional on her own, but also added so much to the characterization of Steve! It was also a bit healing to write this, as someone who is in a similar situation as JJ. Wanting to live my life away but having someone at home who you just can't help but worry about. I can only hope there's no monsters or alternate dimensions involved in my case. I do want to continue this verse, I want to write more of JJ, she is too special to be a one-time gal!

you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost Missed connections fic 💗 I have a lotta feelings about this one. I was still figuring out my voice, my first long fic. Re-reading this is like looking at pictures of you and your friends from middle school. It's cute and sweet but at times it makes ya full body cringe. I would love to rework this, rewrite certain scenes, add entire scenes. But, I also love the idea of my writing acting as a time capsule, a snapshot in time of what my writing looked like at a particular time. And at the heart of it, it's a story about subjects that are super close to my heart. Found family, holiday angst, steddie getting together, and Thanksgiving belonging to friends who feel like family <3<3

words caught in my throat (who talks first?) LOVED writing this one and also love rereading this one! A lot of the story is told from Steve's head as he navigates a very awkward and difficult situation of being locked in a house with his ex. Of which I was able to work on a lot of prose, and as someone who's strength is in dialogue writing, was a real treat! This fic also taught me that I am not just a one trick pony in that I can write difficult subjects and its not all just goofs and romcoms and meet-cutes. The stepping stones toward writign a fic like Old Friends. Snowed in fic!!! I love youuuuuuuu!

Tagging some fellow writers<3<3

@cheatghost @figthefruitfaeth @kkpwnall @hellsfireclub @gideoncharov @judasofsuburbia @thefreakandthehair @sharpbutsoft @legitcookie

#my fic #steddie fic rec #will be in my ronance writing era until further notice so here's some of my steddie before that fully kicks into gear ;) #tag game #steddie #stranger things

[uhgood-girl]

Do you think Jungkook of the past was someone who wanted to become Jimin’s equal in every way and then some? Perhaps a man that he imagines Jimin might lust after? A bit dangerous, with thick muscles, yet killer on the dance floor? A man every bit as dedicated to his craft as Jimin is? To find that hunger for the stage, for improvement, not wanting to settle for status quo and this album is his portfolio of dance styles, working towards the dream of becoming partners, co-choreographers with Jimin and J-hope, possibly Taehung at some point in Chapter 3? For years I have watched them behind the scenes communicating on how best to approach the MV camera angle, improvising, capturing the important details of the choreography and rehearsing while adjusting to abilities and stride and I think how valuable their combined experiences are to the industry, not solely K- pop, THE worldwide industry. Will they still tour and make music as BTS and individually? I believe they will. But is that fulfilling enough for these talented artists, composers, producers, choreographers who have been running in bare feet since the beginning? I wonder.,,

i feel the need to start my answer at the end of your question, which i really love, by the way. it's actually my first official one on this site, thank you for sending it. 💜 however, i apologize now for the can of worms you cracked open, you basically just gave mcdonalds sprite to a loquacious victorian child lol.

but back to the end - fulfillment is an interesting concept, isnt it? this idea that everything you've ever worked towards will hopefully lead to some sort of innate feeling of satisfaction eventually, a dream realized, a list of ambitions played out. is it even possible, really, truly? especially when it comes to being a creative or artist of any sort, bonus points if it's how you make your living. being a professional creative is a bit oxymoronic imo and i say that as someone who does art as their day job. getting paid to bleed your ideas really adds an extra layer of complexity around the whole process.

because i would already equate finding personal fulfillment through art like trying to cling to sand. you can grab huge handfuls of it, maybe pack it with water, even shape it to your desire; you can for sure slow the whole process down long enough to enjoy it but at some point it will slip from your grasp and you will have to reach for more. you become the sisyphus of sand castles, forever betrayed by a strong breeze or a crashing wave or the simple design flaw of your own hands not meant to cradle something so small for too long.

fulfillment through art is fleeting because a true desire to create doesn't have a finish line. (burnout and death aside) i think most artists even when they create their magnum opus (if they're lucky), step back, bask in it for a bit and then immediately feel the ever present creep of what will i do next? can i top this? and when you do it as a career, your boss and/or audience (who is a boss of sorts in itself) walks up next to you and goes yeah! what's next? how are you going to top that? so the snake eats it's own tail ad infinitum.

but i do believe bts to be genuine artists in this sense, ready to chase that fever dream their whole lives because that's the real fulfillment, if any, of it all. just to continue to do it, in any shape, fashion, or form for as long as you can stand it. and i think all people are capable of art (i hope it's clear when i say art i'm encompassing the entire medium, music obviously included) and creativity and i would encourage any and everyone to pursue it, it's definitely worth it, but the desire around it doesn't affect everyone the same. you don't run bare foot through a dark tunnel you can't see the light at the end of unless you feel you have no choice. unless you are compelled.

i think the great news here is that the light is visible now. all of their blood, sweat, and tears (manhi, manhi, manhi) is paying dividends these days plus interest but even beyond the recognition and money, they have the buoyancy of creative freedom. overall, it's something i still think they're trying on and exploring, getting used to the feel of, but i also think all of the solo projects so far have been an incredible show of confidence towards taking risks and i love that for them so much. i love that they feel safe enough at this stage to pursue whatever they want, criticism from the peanut gallery be damned. i'm so excited to see what they will do in chapter 3 after having all of this under their belts. i agree that their combined experience is utterly invaluable.

but about jikook - can you imagine having the park jimin in your life? tbh i could give a rant similar to this about all of the members, but even then, i agree with my bias in that there's just something about jimin in particular that pulls your heartstrings. he's just good in a way that is hard to come by, in a way that seems to transcend his being a celebrity even, something that brings out the worst in so many far too often. and i think wanting to be worthy of him, to try and be his equal would be near subconscious for how naturally i imagine the people in his orbit would be persuaded. and because god knows you aren't sticking around if he finds you wanting. 👀

now imagine all that pjm goodness focused on you, singled out, romantic in flavor and during the height of puberty, no less? i think we and jk are lucky that jk is jk and has never met a challenge he couldn't face head on lol

however, i will raise you one better and say that while i'm sure jimin's type has definitely influenced the jk we see today, i think jimin's type would have been whatever jk grew into. because that's one of the things i've loved most about watching them evolve over the years, how they've done it together. if jimin's overwhelming goodness and exacting nature helped pull the very best out of jungkook, i think vice versa, jk's unconditional support and willingness to both call him on his bullshit (i'm thinking of the dieting incident in particular rn) but still love him through all of his stages has allowed jimin to flourish.

i've said it before, but the natural dichotomy of their personalities and ability to fill in where the other potentially lacks is so special. our sun and moon couple for real. but even in a non-romantic light, to find someone who fits you in such a way is genuinely rare. (the fact that bts as a whole are who they are and have each other is just so *clenches fist* ugh)

i honestly can't wait to see what heights they continue to race each other to.

#jikook #kookmin #uhgood-ask #in this essay i

[zwy01]

Millennium AU!

Hi everyone!!! After three years I finally updated+upgraded my Millennium AU lineup! Now I have a total of 15 ocs for this AU instead of the previous 10! This is probably my magnum opus as a noblesse fanart/fan-content creator lol.

For context, this is an alternate universe where Razark is alive, it’s 1000+ years in the future, and everyone has kids.

Important note: this is not a happy AU. There are happy moments, but with the general settings of characters and their relationships with one another, and the way Lukedonia is defined by Lord Raskreia… not very optimistic. It’s angsty. I’ll explain more as this post goes, and you’ll see why.

On how nobles have kids in my headcanon: nobles reproduce asexually. To be precise, children are born from soul fragments. Soul fragments can be extracted at the cost of some of the parent’s own lifespan. Two soul fragments create a new soul, aka the child. Because how this entire process has lifespan shortening qualities, children are usually proof of true love or repaying a major favor/debt to someone. It’s a huge deal for nobles, so it is never taken lightly. If a clan’s last clan leader/pureblood dies without an heir, a new heir/child/soul is born from the mystic energy that the air/ground of Lukedonia emits. Kind of like a thin-air baby appearing out of nowhere.

How to read this lineup:

White text: character name

Blue text: parents’ names, if any.

Ring + heart: parents are in love & married.

Heart: parents are in love & not married.

Green diamond: parents are not in love. Soul fragment donation as debt repayment. Children do not carry their donor’s surname.

Eldest to the left, youngest to the right.

Now introducing the characters!

Alois Elenor: Male. First child of Ludis Mergas and Rozaria Elenor. Name means “famous warrior”. An introvert. Nicknames: Al, the hair guy, magic boy. Relationship with family: Ludis (father, good), Rozaria (mother, good), Susanna (sister, good)

Alois is the first born of the entire nextgen cast. He is very very shy, and almost never talks, and if he does it’s when he thinks it’s necessary. He doesn’t like eye contact with virtually anyone who isn’t family, so he usually has his eyes and face covered with his bright red hair. If you try to brush his hair aside to see his eyes, he WILL freak out and turn you into a frog. That’s reserved for his family and his crush, sorry. He’s usually calm, but has an anxious side to him that shows when he feels stressed out. He’s also quite sensitive, but people usually have no idea about what he’s thinking since he doesn’t talk, and they can’t see his face. His younger sister Susanna can always tell, though. She reads him like a book. Alois is a very big family-oriented guy and will do anything to make his family happy. The four of them have an extremely close relationship, and make a happy family unit. Though Alois being the only introvert in his family means that sometimes he gets overwhelmed by their excess energy. He may not show it in the way his family does, but he’s very very happy to receive their love. Dotes on his younger sister Susanna. Has a major crush on Luzia Tradio. Super big fan of Kei Ru, idolizes him.

Luzia Tradio: Female. First child of Kei Ru and Claudia Tradio. Name means “light of the day”. An introvert. Nicknames: Lucy, Cici, witch queen. Relationship with family: Kei (father, not very good), Claudia (mother, good), Jia (sister, bad)

Luzia Tradio is never seen to smile, and she always wears a frown on her face. She is a bit grumpy and standoffish. If you look at her with the wrong expression she might give you the death stare… or so it seems. You see, she has a history of casting curses on people and making them vomit maggots for hours, but hey it’s for a good reason. They annoy her too much. Just don’t get too close to her, or ask too many questions. She has inherited her grandfather Lagus’ talent, and is the most powerful in the entire nextgen cast. But what most people don’t know is that she is trying to recover Lagus’ legacy… specifically his research, creations, and abilities. Due to the Lagus’ traitor history, doing so has been banned by none other than Lord Raskreia. And even if it weren’t banned, Luzia trying to chase after Lagus’ research would make mommy dearest drop dead in anxiety. Luzia won’t actually try to take over Lukedonia; in fact she’s not interested in any of it. She just genuinely enjoys doing the same creepy/shady/illegal stuff gramps did. So she has an underground lab where she pursues Lagus’ legacy and conducts her… err, research. Just evil edgy witch stuff. No one needs to know. Hah. She has a great relationship with her mother Claudia and swears to protect her. She can’t stand her father Kei and sister Jia for… complicated reasons, so she avoids them and shuts them out. They try to reach out to her, though their attempts almost always fail. May or may not like Alois back… welp, she’s in denial. Likes candy.

Aretis Verja Di Reiner: Male. Only child of Razark and Erga Kenesis Di Raskreia. Name means “the deciding warrior that defends virtue”. An extrovert. Nicknames: N/A. Relationship with family: Razark (father, good), Raskreia (mother, very very bad)

Reiner is Raskreia’s heir and the next lord. Reiner’ story is a complex one. He is naturally very charismatic and shines in his own way, but that gets affected by his upbringing and now he’s just majorly depressed and too tired to care about anything. You see, his mother Raskreia isn’t the best at expressing her emotions as she is naturally stoic.. and has her sense of pride, even when it comes to loving her son. She believes her duties as Lord comes before anything else, even if it’s her family. So, she makes it to clear to young Reiner that he is her heir and subject before he is her son. Welp, that’s certainly very…reassuring to hear from your mom-lord. So even when Raskreia and Razark love each other very much, Reiner was raised almost entirely by his father Razark, whom he shares a good relationship with. Reiner has a very strong sense of justice and seeing how Raskreia’s ways are stubborn, archaic, even borderline tyrannical and how she is headed towards failing Lukedonia, he protests againsts her ways and seeks to abolish their system altogether in favor of a democracy. Reiner fails and proceeds to leave Lukedonia out of anger and helplessness and decides to never become Lord, though he had already made this decision long ago when he cracked under pressure to become the perfect prince. Raskreia sees his act as a rebellion, and deems him a traitor. Uh oh, his own mom-lord might be after his head. Time to run. He’d probably be way happier to stay away from all the trouble at home and work as a cashier in the human world. Sigh. Give him a pat on the shoulder and tell him good work. Too depressed to like anyone.

Jia Ru: Female. Second child of Kei Ru and Claudia Tradio. Name means “auspicious”. An extrovert. Nicknames: little tigress, bedrock annihilator, them muscles. Relationship with family: Kei (father, good), Claudia (mother, good), Luzia (sister, neutral)

Jia is an excellent martial artist, just like her father Kei, whom she absolutely adores. She enjoys sparring with others, often running out of people to challenge just because she does it so often and they’re all tired and want to rest. What do you mean you wanna rest, it’s only been the 8th spar of the day! Ugh, y’all don’t exercise enough. She has sharp canines that show in a toothy grin when she’s happy. She is on good terms with most of her peers though sometimes she may or may not offend others with her bluntless. She doesn’t mean any harm, she just doesn’t really have a filter and says whatever’s on her mind…even around their Lord. Whoops. Luckily Raskreia wasn’t too pissed. Be careful next time. She does get extremely shy around Alois though, whom she has a huge crush on. Her hair accessories (set of golden hoops) are gifts from her mother Claudia. Claudia wears the other pair. Kei isn’t the best with expressing love and he mostly only gives combat-related compliments that roughly translate into “I love you”. He does call his daughter “little tigress” when they are alone; it’s a nickname he gave to her as a child. Jia knows Kei loves her, and he knows she loves him, and they’re happy. She doesn’t like sweet food, and loves meat.

Susanna Mergas: Female. Second child of Ludis Mergas and Rozaria Elenor. Name means “to be joyful/graceful lily”. An ultra extrovert. Nicknames: Susa, teacup, cupcake. Relationship with family: Ludis (father, good), Rozaria (mother, good), Alois (brother, good)

Susanna might be the shortest and tiniest of the bunch, but she is jam-packed with raw energy. Fun energy. Chaotic energy. Loud energy. Just pure energy. She’s the ultimate definition of a social butterly. As long as something moves, she’ll want to befriend it. Hey you! You can be her 278th best friend! Seriously. She’ll love it and so will you. What do you mean you can live for tens of thousands of years and still haven’t memorized everyone’s names? That’s impossible! Lol. She loves hanging out with people and finding fun things to do. Tea parties is one of her absolute favorites, and she too has mastered the art of tea parties under the guidance and apprenticeship of her beloved daddy and the master of human traditions, Ludis. A day is never dull with her and her family. They just love partying. As loud and energetic as she is, she is actually quite good at picking up very very subtle cues of how other people are feeling, and will quiet down and approach you differently if you need it. Smothers her brother in affection, and loves being doted on by him. Arya’s girlfriend.

Kaelestis Blerster: Male. Only child of Karias Blerster and Rael Kertia. Name means “of the sky, heavenly”. An extraverted-introvert. Nicknames: Kaekae, dad, the no-fun guy. Relationship with family: Karias (father, good), Rael (donor, good) Raegyn & Arya (half-siblings, good)

Kaelestis is the most mature out of the bunch. Unlike his eccentric father Karias, he is very proper and does not engage in the former’s speech and actions. In fact, he’s probably closer to being the parent than the other way around. He often calls out Karias for his behavior and does not hesitate to reprimand his father for his inappropriateness. Karias just laughs, does a fake dramatic flop down the floor, whines to his son about how he’s just no fun at alllll. Kaelestis just shakes his head and sighs. Kaelestis actually got his nickname Kaekae from Karias because Karias gets okay’d by his son all the time. “Okay Clan Leader, time to act maturely like a proper noble”, etc. Even his friends call him “dad” as a joke. The only time he’s ever acted “improper” was when he called Raskreia “auntie”… but that’s because Karias lied to his son and told him daddy’s Lord’s brother. And Kaekae believed it. Never again for those petty tricks. Kaelestis is also an excellent painter and architect, and is responsible for Lukedonia’s artistic projects. His personality may not be romantic, but his crafts certainly are. Just breathtakingly beautiful and you won’t see talent like this anywhere else. Likes Izar.

Raegyn Kertia: Male. First child of Regis K. Landegre and Rael Kertia. Name means “little king/impulsive”. An extrovert. Nicknames: Ray, the genius, mr. Celebrity. Relationship with family: Regis (father, good), Rael (father, good), Arya (sister, good), Kaelestis, Garyth & Alethea (half-siblings, good)

Raegyn is a surprisingly good diplomat, as he is the smartest of the entire nextgen cast. Though, he is seen as a good diplomat and loved by all not because he truly is that way. He is just very, very smart and knows how to get things… and people to be the way he wants. At his level manipulation is quite easy, though usually he doesn’t need to do so as his natural charm does the job for him. He’s already everyone’s favorite guy #1. He’s snarky and witty. Sometimes, he might come off as arrogant because he expects people to understand things without needing him to explain and gets frustrated when they don’t. He doesn’t show this side easily, but he’s secretly very apathetic and loves dark humor. By human standards sometimes you’d wanna call him lil’ shit. Damn, it’s just lonely to be at the top. He has a good relationship with his fathers, and Rael often comes to his son for advice. They have casual debates sometimes and Rael always loses. So proud of my son. He’s the smartest. Yaaaaa. Likes Umbra.

Arya K. Landegre: Female. Second child of Regis K. Landegre and Rael Kertia. Name means “noble/air song”. An extrovert. Nicknames: Ari, Yaya. Relationship with family: Regis (father, good), Rael (father, good), Raegyn (brother, good), Kaelestis, Garyth & Alethea (half siblings, good)

Arya is the opposite of everything elegant. She’s actually quite cringy, in a good way. She’s loud, fidgety, and cheerful. If you brought all these kids to a fast food restaurant, she’ll be the one throwing fries around like confetti and convincing everyone else to join in. If it weren’t for the black stripes in her hair, you would’ve never guessed that she’s a Landegre because she doesn’t act like one at all. Truth be told, part of it is a show. She is sad to see Lukedonia so somber, and tries to cheer up others by putting on an act, thinking she can try to get others to feel a bit happier, if she pretends to be happy too. But mostly it’s for making her clan leader and father Regis happy to know that she’s “happy”, now that he has a really shortened lifespan and they don’t have too much time together. A not-so-healthy coping mechanism for her soon-to-be grief. Someone get this girl an oscar and some therapy. Susanna’s girlfriend.

Garyth J. Loyard: Male. First child of Regis K. Landegre and Seira J. Loyard. Name means “honest/tender person”. An introvert. Nicknames: Gary, angel, starlight. Relationship with family: Regis (father, good ), Seira (mother, good), Alethea (sister, good), Raegyn & Arya (half siblings, it’s complicated)

Garyth is the most beautiful child in the entire nextgen cast. You’d take one look at his face, and you’ll want to throw chocolates and diamonds at him. He has super long eyelashes that seem to flutter like feathers in the wind. He also has an angelic voice, and is an excellent singer. You’d get distracted and walk face first into a pole if you happen to stumble upon him singing. He is also the great-grandchild that resembles Gejutel the most out of the four that exist, despite being the Loyard heir. His mannerisms are also very Landegre. He’s very obsessed with being elegant, and while he is very dignified, he can engage in playful banter just like how Regis does it. Susanna probably handed him a sharpie once and told him to “color his hair” since Gary is just so obsessed with the Landegre side of himself. Smooth one, Susa. Gary is super embarrassed. Garyth does have a lingering sadness inside once he learns of his mother Seira’s trauma and past. He loves her very much and will do anything for her. For that reason, he absolutely hates Rael’s guts for his history of stalking and harassing Seira. He loves Regis very much too but is confused why Regis forgave his former nemesis and even married him. He avoids his half siblings for the same reason, since they remind him of Rael. Confused Garyth harbors a deep resentment and sadness inside for not being able to help. His sister Alethea knows of it, but wonders why her brother never talks about it. Has a lil’ thing for Reiner.

Alethea J. Loyard: Female. Second child of Regis K. Landegre and Seira J. Loyard. Name means “truth”. An introvert. Nicknames: Thea, bunny. Relationship with family: Regis (father, good ), Seira (mother, good), Garyth (brother, good), Raegyn & Arya (half siblings, good)

Alethea resembles her mother Seira so much, she could very much be her. Seira’s little clone basically. If you put her side-by-side with her mother’s younger self, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between them. Seira nicknames her daughter “bunny”, and Alethea blushes when her mother calls her that. Alethea is quiet and reserved, though not entirely due to being an introvert. She suffers from low self esteem. Being Seira’s second child she won’t get a soul weapon nor will she become clan leader, and she is fine with that. Her low self esteem stems from her feeling extremely out of place in this world. Everything feels so foreign even though she’s experiencing everything in her own skin. She just never feels like she belongs here, and often zones out because of this. She suffers from a lack of purpose. She is just observing this world, and prefers to not partake in it. She is very empathetic though, and shares a close bond with her family. She doesn’t avoid her half siblings like her brother Garyth does. Prefers to hang out with great grandfather Gejutel, just the two of them, in his library. That’s where she feels the most at home. Nice safe space. Likes peace and quiet.

Bellona: Female. Gradeus’ clan’s heir. No parents, born from thin air. Name means “goddess of war”. An extrovert. Nicknames: Belle, Nana. Relationship with family: Gejutel (caretaker, good)

Bellona was born to be Gradeus clan’s heir. Gejutel names her in good will, hoping that she becomes a good leader, should she choose to use her powers in battle. Interestingly, Bellona channels her energy into dancing. She is a skilled fighter, though she prefers to let her energy out by dancing and her dance moves mimic those of battle. Intense and passionate. Fiery. A berserker of a different kind. She can feel it in her muscles, in her bones, in her soul. Dancing is her life. She’s that person who tells you working out will help with feeling sad. Often drags Reiner around and forces him to dance, much his annoyance and Raegyn’s amusement. C’mon, it’s gotta help! Just shake the tension off. Feel your feet on the ground, and forget the thoughts in your head. Good friends with Cordelia Kravei. Ps she sometimes summons Messad and swings it around as dancing prop, because hey it looks pretty damn cool. Likes Garyth.

Izar Siriana: Male. Siriana clan’s heir. No parents, born from thin air. Name means “star”. An extraverted-introvert. Nicknames: Izzy, bookworm. Relationship with family: Gejutel (caretaker, good)

To Gejutel, Zarga just… seemed bit lost. So in hopes that this his heir finds a passion in life and shines brightly, he names this boy Izar. Just as his name suggests, he develops a love for astronomy and the maths. Most nobles nowadays arent too concerned with being empirical aside from a few who also have an interest in these subject matters, but Izar takes it to another level. Having a passion that grounds him to the earth while he stares into the sky makes him happy. A neet. By human standards you’d be questioning how long he hasn’t showered. He’s not shy though, just prefers to live with his books. One day hopes to discover alternate universes and conquer the black hole, probably. At least he jokes so. Vomited maggots many times from Lucy’s curses from being too annoying and pestering her nonstop for a possible “research buddy”. Lucy doesn’t care for hot burning elemental cores or numbers. Leave her alone. Has a super smart pet ferret named Charles who acts like an assistant and helps him fetch his books and papers. Drinks coffee not because he needs it, but because it’s fashionable and trendy scientists do so. Right? That’s what you call them… scientists!! He even got himself some round glasses to complete his look. Sooo cool. Maybe he’ll ask Lucy for some of her eyeshadow to give himself dark eye circles. …You really wanna vomit maggots again? Likes Jia.

Asa Drosia: Male. Drosia clan’s heir. No parents, born from thin air. Name means “healer/morning”. An introverted-extrovert. Nicknames: N/A. Relationship with family: Gejutel (caretaker, good)

Edian had suffered from multiple unfortunate events prior to her death, so Gejutel names her heir Asa, hoping that he lives a peaceful, hopeful life. Asa is surprisingly good at talking and is quite diplomatic. Unlike Raegyn who only pretends to care and seems like nice guy thanks to his charm, Asa is genuinely nice. He is calm, and mentally and emotionally stable. He’s basically the local therapist kind of guy. He never judges anyone for their circumstances and is accepting of everyone. If you even just look at him in the eyes and see him smile, you’ll feel an uncontrollable urge to cry. Everyone (excluding funny Lord Rask) truly loves him and he’s glad to help. He’s pretty much the only dude in the entire cast not affected by depression. Just like how his SW is a pair of sharp rapiers, he’s good at pinpointing issues and digging them out from the source… though sometimes it hurts to bring out those old scars, even just to talk about them. Which is why Reiner even avoids him because. Cant hide anything from this guy. Ugh. Reiner’s pride. It’s okay, Asa won’t judge you. He has a collection of scented candles, and likes to do knitting in his free time. Likes Bellona.

Umbra Agvain: Female. Agvain clan’s heir. No parents, born from thin air. Name means “shadow/shade”. An introvert. Nicknames: Umbie, firecracker. Relationship with family: Gejutel (caretaker, good)

In contrast to Urokai’s character, Gejutel names her in hopes that she’d be calm and collected, with shadow in her name also meaning she’d protect the ones she loves…instead of the opposite. Unfortunately, she isn’t calm at all. Just like her predecessor, she is quite explosive, but for a different reason. She isn’t angry, nor is she jealous. She is frustrated. She feels and senses everything much stronger than everyone else. If she loves something, she loves it to death. If she hates something, she hates it to death. Everything comes so strongly, she only ever eats plain food, and uses her powers to suppress light and sound around her. Avoids people. It’s just too much for her. Cries and screams often when she is alone from the overwhelming sensations and feelings. Ironically, her hobby is cooking and makes great food. Stress cooks. Doesn’t eat any of it though. Susa’s more than happy to help herself to Umbra’s cooking. Likes Asa.

Cordelia Kravei: Female. Kravei clan’s heir. No parents, born from thin air. Name means “heart/jewel of the sea”. An introvert. Nicknames: Del, Lili, fish girl. Relationship with family: Gejutel (caretaker, good)

Cordelia is the last one to be born in the entire nextgen cast, which means she’s the youngest. Since Lukedonia is surrounded by the sea, Gejutel names her Cordelia in hopes that her heart and soul feels at home. Cordelia is a great illusionist and magician. Not magic in the sense of Elenor and Tradio, but as in tricks and visual effects. She spends a good amount of time by the sea and teaches herself to manipulate aura into various shapes and forms outside of battle usage. She can conjure beautiful illusions of both marine animals and mythical sea creatures, and often works with her best friend Bellona, giving a great show of illusions while Bellona dances. She’s good friends with Kaelestis, with Kaelestis often getting inspiration for his paintings from Cordelia. A pretty chill person in general. Likes Alethea.

Annd that’s it! For a little end note, yes Gejutel raises the last five. Why? Because of bad examples. The Previous Lord kept dumping stuff on Gejutel without explanation. Raskreia observes her father’s doings, and concludes that that’s the way to go when she doesn’t know how to approach something. Just hand it to Gejutel. So when the five thin air babies appear…. Yup, she just assigns Gejutel to them and yolos. Not my business. They’re the traitor clans’ new heirs, and back then Gejutel took good care of Claudia and her clan so he can manage five more right?? Right?? And as of now she doesn’t want to associate with them so… good luck Gejutel. Sorry. Ehh maybe not sorry. Anyways grandpa vomits blood and says goodbye to retirement. But he does follow her orders. Now he has 5 more kids to raise. Ugh. Btw Gejutel names all of them too cuz Rask being the negligent paranoid Lord she is, she doesn’t bother with it either. Gejutel raises them and has a good relationship with all five.

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #oc #original character #millennium au #my magnum opus for real #alternate universe #alois elenor #luzia tradio #aretis verja di reiner #jia ru #susanna mergas #kaelestis blerster #raegyn kertia #arya k. landegre #garyth j. loyard #alethea j. loyard #bellona #izar siriana #asa drosia #umbra agvain #cordelia kravei

[kryzobi-wan]

The Sound of Mandalore

Chapter 1/20: "How do you solve a problem like Kenobi?"

Summary: Uncertain what to do with a Jedi Master who is overly attached to his former Padawan, the Jedi Council decides to send Obi-Wan Kenobi to tutor Force-sensitive Mandalorian foundlings on Mandalore in the early days of the Clone Wars.

(Essentially, I threw Obi-Wan Kenobi and friends into a blender with the entire plot of The Sound of Music, and this was the result. Quite possibly my magnum opus.)

This has been a long time coming. It has been ages since I started working on it, but I'm close to being done and ready to start posting, with Obitine Week coming up next month. To everyone who sent me a "Where's the fic, OP?" This one's for you.

Read on AO3

Behind closed eyes, he saw it. A rolling hillside. Soft green blades of grass bowing to the wind. Wildflowers and lilies dotting the landscape, and there on the horizon, a distant storm cloud he knew would soon bring rain to feed the life here in this paradise. For thousands and thousands of generations, from the blue sky to the babbling brook, within every rock and leaf and drop of water, it was there. The Force.

It sang a song as ancient as life itself. And inside Obi-Wan Kenobi, that same song.

Sitting inside the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a planet whose surface was one large cityscape, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi could not be further from the verdant grasslands that he envisioned in meditation. Inside the Room of a Thousand Fountains, however, waterfalls and various imported flora recreated the majesty of nature as well as could be expected, creating a sort of greenhouse retreat for the meditative benefit of Jedi Masters and Padawans alike. Certainly, it was a large room, and no expense had been spared in its creation. It had been tended carefully for a thousand generations, allowed to grow and flourish until it was hardly distinguishable from the outdoors, serving the temple’s inhabitants well.

Here, Obi-Wan found solace, if only for a moment. With the onset of a massive galactic war several months ago, nothing had been as peaceful as it should have been. He was finding it harder and harder to meditate within his own chambers, even though he no longer had to worry about his Padawan barging in with some ridiculous request at any given moment. Anakin had grown beyond the need for a Master. With the sudden demand for more Jedi Knights out on the battlefront, he had been knighted just a few months back, to Obi-Wan’s great pride (and anxiety). He had done it, had fulfilled Qui-Gon Jinn’s dying request and trained the boy he had believed in so wholeheartedly. Along the way, he had gained a brother, filling a gap in his life he hadn’t realized was there.

The life of a Jedi could be a very lonely one. It often still was, even surrounded by hundreds of Jedi in the temple on a daily basis. Anakin frequently disappeared off to who-knows-where in the rare moments when they were planetside, leaving his old Master to his business with the Council. When that loneliness began to seep into his heart once again, when he struggled to keep it at bay, Obi-Wan came here, to this serene mindscape of his own imagination, and allowed the twittering birds and rustling bushes to keep him company.

Breathing in one last deep breath, Obi-Wan pulled himself out of meditation, floating back up to the surface level of the Force where the Jedi spent most of their time. As he brought himself to his feet, he realized he didn’t know just how long he had been sitting there, on this rock beside a small waterfall. His joints protested only for a moment before loosening up. Obi-Wan was certainly older than he had been, but the war kept him active and fit, and he was as capable as ever in battle. The Jedi Master unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and thumbed the switch, twirling the bright blue blade a couple times before settling into a training stance.

With the peace brought by the muted sound of thousands of rushing waterfalls, Obi-Wan practiced his katas, moving from one form to the next with ease. With the Force, it was as easy as breathing, his movements coordinated to perfection so that his senses could be in tune with everything around him even as his focus was on the blade in his hands. As he often did, he imagined Anakin there with him, his forms representing the opposite, the counter to those that Obi-Wan displayed. So many hours had been spent training the boy in lightsaber combat, instilling the defensive movements in his very bones, that his Padawan often knew his next move before he did. And on the battlefield? It was as if they were two parts to the same soldier, a lethal force against any enemy that dared to cross the path of Skywalker and Kenobi.

Like all Masters and Padawans, they had a training bond, a connection between their minds that helped them communicate and sense the other’s thoughts. Such a bond was immensely helpful in battle, and it had saved one or both of their necks more than once.

And that bond persisted.

No longer was Anakin Skywalker Obi-Wan’s Padawan, but a bond as deep as theirs was hard to let go of. Even now, when Obi-Wan’s mind should have been empty, enveloped by the Force, his thoughts drifted to his old Padawan and the brotherhood they shared.

The Force hummed with the rightness of it all. Though the Jedi Council warned of such persistent attachments as theirs, the Force seemed to relish in it, and it puzzled Obi-Wan endlessly. So, he shook his head and—like always—elected to ignore this strand of thoughts and refocus himself on the task at hand.

That was, until said Padawan came rushing in, always a great big ball of energy that seemed intent on shattering whatever semblance of peace Obi-Wan was able to construct.

Obi-Wan sighed and clipped his saber back onto his belt, turning to look at his friend (now his equal). “What is it, Anakin?” he spoke in the usual tired monotone he adopted whenever Anakin was up to something. He may try to hide it, but the young man greatly amused him. Even when he drove him crazy, Obi-Wan had to fight to restrain the smirk that constantly pulled at his cheeks.

Leaning against his knees to catch his breath, Anakin huffed out, “I need—your help.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“My lightsaber—in the archives—restricted section—forgot it.”

Now the Master Jedi rolled his eyes. Such eloquent language from the boy he raised. Good to see that his careful training in the art of diplomacy and negotiation hadn’t gone to waste.

“You were in the restricted section of the archives and left your lightsaber, is that it?” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head at Anakin’s constant proclivity for trouble unlike anything he had ever seen. His old Padawan nodded. “And what would you like me to do about it?”

“Help me get it back?” Anakin said hopefully.

Obi-Wan sighed. “You know perfectly well that I have been temporarily banned from the restricted section because of the last time I let you in there, Anakin.”

The younger Jedi had the presence of mind to look sheepish. “Could we find another way in?”

“Oh, Anakin…” Obi-Wan considered the boy—the man—some more. “Fine, but we’d better make it quick. I’m supposed to be at the Council meeting in 15 minutes. How did you get in in the first place?”

With that, the two set off, leaving the serenity of the Room of a Thousand Fountains for the hustle and bustle of the largest Jedi temple in the galaxy.

-.-.-

“Master Yoda, I simply cannot find him!” Shaak Ti called as she ran inside the Jedi Council chamber. The red Togruta Master looked distinctly put out, looking to Yoda for guidance.

“Obi-Wan?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Off with young Skywalker, he probably is.”

Mace Windu scoffed. “That’s a safe bet.”

“Have you tried the Room of a Thousand Fountains?” Master Plo Koon suggested, “You know how he loves to meditate there.”

“He was seen there earlier, Master Koon, but left with Skywalker about 30 minutes ago.”

Mace Windu and the Grand Master shared a knowing look.

Shaak Ti spoke up again. “We’ve checked all the usual places, even Skywalker’s quarters, but he’s simply not there.”

“Considering that Skywalker and Kenobi it is, suggest you look in the unusual places I do,” the small green Jedi said with a level of amusement that irked some of the other Masters.

Mace Windu was one of those Masters. “I hate to say it, Master Yoda, but I’m just not sure that Obi-Wan is suited for a seat on this Council.” His statement was met with stares of varied intensity.

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been temporarily placed on the Jedi High Council as part of a trial period, a rotation of potential candidates to fill a vacant seat until the Force indicated who it should be. Although he had plenty of valuable insight to offer, too often there were moments like this where they had to be painfully reminded of just how young Obi-Wan still was.

And how attached he remained to his old Padawan, despite the boy’s elevation to the rank of Jedi Knight.

Yoda’s wise voice answered once more. “Qui-Gon’s padawan, he was. Surprised by his antics, we should not be.” A few other Masters nodded.

Adi Gallia also chimed in. “Besides, Kenobi is one of the greatest assets to the Order, even if he is easily distracted by Skywalker.”

“Those distractions could very well be a liability,” the Cerean Master Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke firmly. “You said it yourself, Master Yoda, he was trained by Qui-Gon Jinn, who’s thoughts many of you will remember did not exactly align with our ranks. And now Skywalker? It seems with each generation of learners they are straying further from the Code.”

“I find their hijinks quite amusing,” Master Luminara Unduli said. In Obi-Wan’s defense, it was very easy to get caught up in the charismatic force of nature that was Anakin Skywalker. Just being near him in the heat of battle left one out of focus and questioning every planned battle strategy that had ever been contrived, so easy it seemed for Skywalker to improvise his actions.

Master Yoda tapped his gimer stick on the ground. “Enough. What to do about Obi-Wan, we must decide. Too attached, he is, to his former Padawan. Perhaps split up, they should be.”

At that, a chorus of murmurs echoed through the chamber.

“With all due respect, Master, keeping Skywalker away from Kenobi and vice versa is like trying to keep a wave on the sand,” Master Windu said wearily.

“Like trying to grasp onto a moonbeam!” Depa Billaba analogized.

Master Oppo Rancicis called out above the clamor, “How do you propose we go about this?”

Just then, with only a creak and a thump as warning, two figures came crashing through the ceiling from the vent overhead, landing with a thud in the center of the Council chamber. The eyes of every Jedi Master on the Council blinked down at the two on the floor, Skywalker and Kenobi.

Laughing nervously and shaking the dust from the ceiling from his shaggy hair, Anakin broke the awkward silence. “Oops. This isn’t the archives…”

As if he hadn’t just come tumbling into one of the most high-security rooms in the Temple, Anakin stood and waltzed out of the chamber, not even bothering to acknowledge the Masters who regarded him with a range of reactions.

Obi-Wan, for his part, stood and looked around at his fellow Masters, cringing with embarrassment that painted his cheeks pink. With an apologetic bow, he followed Anakin quickly from the chamber, knowing nothing could be done to save face at the moment. His best hope was to distance himself until the incident could be forgotten. Or at least, he hoped it would be forgotten.

While still within earshot of the Council, Obi-Wan smacked Anakin in the upper arm, saying, “How did you get us that turned around up there?”

“I thought you knew where you were going,” Anakin responded accusingly.

In the uncomfortable silence left behind by the dynamic Skywalker and Kenobi duo, the Masters all shared a look, then sat down to discuss the issue further.

-.-.-

The door to the Jedi Council chamber opened abruptly, halting Obi-Wan’s pacing back and forth in the hallway. “You may go in now, Obi-Wan,” Master Billaba spoke gently, standing aside to allow the younger Jedi entrance. Obi-Wan’s stomach flipped nervously, and suddenly it seemed very difficult to swallow with how dry his mouth had become. Taking a shaky breath, Obi-Wan steadied himself in the Force and stepped inside, as ready as he ever would be to face whatever punishment Yoda saw fit for his stupid mistakes earlier that day.

He stood awkwardly in the center of the chamber for what felt like hours. Yoda simply looked at him with an unreadable expression and said nothing. Unable to stand the silence any longer, Obi-Wan decided a formal apology might be what the small green Grand Master was waiting for. “I’m terribly sorry I missed the meeting, Master, it won’t happen again.”

Yoda’s eyebrows—if he had them—raised, but otherwise no indication was given that he had heard him.

“And about the—the vents… Anakin—he said he needed… well, and since I couldn’t get access to the… uh… It was a stupid idea in the first place, and I shouldn’t have gone along with it…”

Yoda chuckled softly at Obi-Wan’s stammering. For a man known across the galaxy for his silver tongue, he sure did fall apart under any scrutiny from the Jedi Council. At least, when he knew he was in the wrong.

Obi-Wan’s heart was pounding, and he couldn’t believe Yoda was just laughing at him. For all he knew, he was about to be thrown out of the Jedi Order. Surely they wouldn’t do that. But he certainly wasn’t laughing.

“Attached you are to your former Padawan,” Master Yoda stated, staring intently at Obi-Wan, the ghost of a smile still on his face.

A heavy feeling sunk to the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach. “I—no, Master. I just—”

Yoda stopped him by holding up his three-fingered hand.

“A question, it was not.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth closed tight and he bowed his head. He had to have known that this was coming sooner or later. If he had to guess, a similar scolding was in store for Anakin in the not-too-distant future.

“Difficult it is for some to transition from Master and Padawan to equals,” Yoda spoke.

Obi-Wan jumped in to explain himself, hoping Yoda’s faith in him was not lost. “His knighthood was just so sudden, Master, I am trying—”

“I know, young Kenobi.”

“I meditate daily, I focus on letting go of emotion, just as you and Master Qui-Gon taught me. I—I have nothing but respect for the Code, I do my best to remain steadfast in it…”

Even so, Yoda seemed to see beyond Obi-Wan’s explanations, to see something else entirely. Attachment had long been a struggle of Obi-Wan’s. It left him unbalanced in the Force, and Yoda—as one of the most powerful Force-users in the galaxy—could easily sense it.

But something was different about Obi-Wan’s unbalance. For most who struggled with attachment, the simple release of such connections into the Force would solve the issue, centering the Jedi as they should be to properly serve the Order. When exploring that potential solution through Kenobi’s Force signature, however, the air around him seemed to vibrate uneasily, as if there were something else he was supposed to do. Yoda couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew enough about the Force to know to listen when it tried to tell him something.

“Tell me, what lesson have you learned here, Obi-Wan, that most important you consider?”

The question caused the young Master to pause. What did Master Yoda want him to say? Was this some sort of test? If he answered wrong, would he be in more trouble than he already was? Fumbling for a response, he answered, “To find out what is the will of the Force and to do it steadfastly.” This, he knew, was the base teaching of the Jedi, one that was supposed to guide every part of their lives and help them to use their gifts for good.

Yoda seemed pleased, and Kenobi allowed himself to breathe for a moment.

“Obi-Wan,” the Grand Master said carefully, “The will of the Force, it seems to be, that you leave us.”

And now Obi-Wan’s breath left him once again. “What?” It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. “Leave?! I—I know I missed the meeting today, but I didn’t think I would be expelled from the Order entirely for it!”

Yoda closed his eyes against the onslaught of Obi-Wan’s distress in the Force. “Leave us only for a little while you will, Obi-Wan,” he assured, reaching out to quiet the young Jedi’s concern.

“But—but, what about Anakin? I am needed here! Or in the war? I can’t leave! Where would I go?”

“Your Padawan, Skywalker is no more,” Yoda reminded. “Perhaps a special assignment you need, Master Kenobi, to discover whether your attachments you can overcome.”

A special assignment? Obi-Wan looked like he would try to protest some more, but before he could, Yoda tapped his stick on the ground and held up a hand to stop him once again.

Resigned to his fate, Obi-Wan instead bowed his head and replied, his voice quiet, “Yes, Master. It is the will of the Force.”

As Yoda silently considered him, Obi-Wan’s mind ran wild with questions. Where would he be sent? What would he be doing? Would he be sent to the AgriCorps again? What would happen to his Clone Troopers?

When could he come back?

At last, Yoda spoke again, halting his runaway train of thought. “A class of seven children on Mandalore there is. Need a tutor they do.”

Well, that sentence did nothing to stop the headache that was rapidly approaching.

“On Mandalore?!” Obi-Wan squeaked. “I don’t understand, Mandalore has an excellent school system, why do they require a tutor?” He and Mandalore had a history, one he tried not to think about if at all possible.

“Force sensitives from Mandalore and other neutral worlds, they are,” Yoda explained, “Too old they were to come to the Temple, and gracious Mandalore was to accept them. Allow them to fall into the hands of the Sith, we must not.”

Obi-Wan was at a loss for words. This day had started off perfectly normal, and now he had been thrown for a loop in the worst way possible. “I am not a teacher, Master, I am needed in the fight against the Separatists, alongside Anakin and the others!”

“Done well you have with young Skywalker. A great help you will be to the Mandalorian foundlings.” This praise was high coming from Master Yoda, but it did nothing to calm the disquiet in his heart. “Only rudimentary training will they need. Warrior Jedi, their world does not desire. Only to control their powers, you will teach them. And perhaps the ways of diplomacy,” Yoda finished with a smirk.

Obi-Wan was left well and truly speechless.

“Tell Duchess Satine Kryze to expect you tomorrow, I will,” Yoda resolved, standing from his chair and beginning to hobble to the chamber’s exit.

“The Duchess???” Obi-Wan shrieked, stopping Yoda in his tracks. The little green Jedi hummed in the affirmative.

“Familiar, I believe you are. In her care the foundlings are during their break from the Academy. Struggled, other tutors have, without knowledge of the living Force.”

Yoda again resumed his walk out the door, nodding to Master Billaba who was standing on the other side as went.

Obi-Wan sank into his seat—or the seat that he’d been temporarily given in the chamber—and fiddled with his beard as he often did when his thoughts were too much to bear inside his own head. This was all so sudden, and part of him wondered if this hadn’t been on the Council’s mind before the incident today had even happened. Emotion after emotion passed over him, despair, fear, resolve, confusion, hope, certainty, and resentment, all of which Obi-Wan allowed to pass into the Force.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Whatever happened, it was the will of the Force, and Obi-Wan would follow it until he found where he was supposed to be.

-.-.-

Chapter 2 >>

-.-.-

This is gonna be a longer note because it's the first chapter and I want to make sure I cover everything!

I hope you enjoyed! I do have this mostly written out, so you can rest assured that the story will not be abandoned! It has, however, sat on my computer for over a year in a less-than-finished form, so if you’re reading this now, congrats! It has made it to the interwebs! I plan to release new chapters once or twice a week. I'm at about 14 chapters currently, and am in the final act of the story, so I feel pretty confident that by the time we get to posting those chapters, I'll have it completely (finally) finished.

And now I invite you all to imagine Yoda and the Council standing around singing “How Do You Solve a Problem Like Kenobi,” because I find it highly amusing. Tumblr user @mandojediblogger actually wrote out parody lyrics a while back to some Sound of Music songs including this one in the thread where this entire idea was born. They also posted it on Ao3 under the name Quinn73. Idk why, but the image of Yoda as the Reverend Mother absolutely cracks me up.

Also I’ve gotta shout out some folks who engaged with my thread of absolute madness and contributed ideas for how to develop this fic: @seleneisrising and @ask-the-almighty-google, you the real ones. They helped along the way when I hit a block or just needed to ramble about Obitine/Sound of Music parallels and totally kept me going. And to everyone that showed enthusiasm in the notes and tags on my post, just know I never would have written this without your interest in the idea, so I hope you have fun with this and come along for the ride! And I'm sorry this took so long to finally get off the ground!

I've been deep in the X-Files fic sauce for the last couple months, but with Obitine Week 2023 coming up in September I figured I needed to shift gears back into Obitine brainrot, so this is my attempt at doing so.

Tagging some folks who expressed interest in this concept wayyyy over a year ago and have probably forgotten about it: @sootspritesprinkles @itscaptainsir @called-kept @kraytwriter @mathmusic8 @penguinelf @dracaspina @thirteenmyspacegirl @accidental-spice @kanerallels @hellostarlight20

#obitine #obitine fanfic #my fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #korkie kryze #sound of music au #the sound of mandalore #chapter 1