#lmk the thrall

[quitealotofsodapop]

Unbeknownst to Heaven and Wukong himself, there was once a person who did attempt to take advantage of his fate changing powers in drafted fates au, multiple times in fact. Only the Pilgrims had known of this, and they had taken that secret to their graves, making a silent pact to not even tell Wukong of the true plans the LBD had for when they had sealed her away all those centuries ago

Hehehehehehe

Our idea in DMs: what if the events surrounding the White Bone Spirit/Yellow Robed Demon arc weren't as "simple" as the text makes it out to be?

In this case; LBD wasn't interested in eating or bedding Tripitaka - her plans exceed well beyond such common vices.

Tripitaka *noticed* that something was off about the skeletal demon who harassed them. The rice she offered the monk had quickly turned black with decay, but wasn't poisoned, merely altered as to give the monk terrible digestion.

Upon the second encounter with the spirit, and with Bajie loudly complaining and accusing his shorter brother of harming innocents, the monk noticed something concerning.

The spirit wasn't interested in the Tang Monk at all. Her gaze (no matter was body she took) was fixated on the Monkey King. Whatever the creature had planned, it involved the monk's bodyguard.

At the third encounter, Tripitaka's brain was going into overdrive. Clearly this spirit *couldn't be killed* in the traditional fashion. And it wanted Wukong - someone well up to this point Tripitaka mostly sees as a barbaric, blood-thirsty monster. If the skeleton spirt got a hold of the Monkey King and all of his power then- no, he shouldn't think of it. It would be safer if Wukong was away from the bone spirit's grasp. Tripitaka needed a way to send Wukong away from here.

The problem was; Tripitaka didn't think Wukong would believe him (irony).

In the monk's mind, it was easier to go along with Bajie's accusations than to explain why he wanted Wukong away from here.

Wukong flies back home, heartbroken at his terminated employment (and losing his chance at freedom). He reunites with his subjects and Stalwarts, and protects them from the odd influx of hunters that capture monkey demons.

In the meantime with the Pilgrims; they have some trouble with the Yellow Robed Demon/Kui Mulang. But they aren't helpless.

With Tripitaka transformed into a tiger, Sha Wujing captured, and Ao Lie injured but ready to prepare a strike; Bajie manages to convince Wukong to come home; letting it slip that "Master wanted to protect you". Wukong is intrigued by the monk's concern, and agrees to come back to the fold.

Only they never get there.

Ao Lie manages to expose Kui Mulang as a liar when werewolf-demon makes a drunken jackass of himself inside of his unwilling-father-in-law's palace (as what happens in JTTW). Whilst the dragon prince ends up captured, Sha Wujing is tipped off that this is no mere demon - but a powerful celestial. Kui Mulang is so present in Ao Lie's memory scroll because the dragon was crucial in defeating him.

Sha Wujing escapes in the chaos of Ao Lie and Mulang's fighting to send an inquiry to Earth Star of Saturn. As a former celestial, the fish man still remembers what authorities to contact, and gets in touch with the overseer of the 28 Mansions. The Wood Wolf of Legs is confirmed to be missing - and the Jade Emperor is quick to cover up the incident to save face. Princess Hundred-Flower is returned to her father (with or without any half-celestial children), and Tripitaka is returned to human form.

But where is Bajie and Wukong?

They find the pigman beaten to a pulp among the black pines. Bajie manages to explain that he *did* convince Brother Wukong to return to the pilgrimage, but on the way they were set upon by a very powerful warrior. One which smiled and politely asked that the Monkey King be presented to "the ivory lady" before attacking.

Tripitaka pales.

Sun Wukong... captured? The one in peril?!

The King of Precious-Image explains that "Ivory Lady" most likely refers to the new advisor to a small nearby dynasty - a woman clad in all-white.

In a sense it confirms the monk's fear on the White Bone Spirit - someone truly had been fixated on his disciple and had the means to subjugate him. But gloating isn't a virtue, and they need their monkey back!

Wukong doesn't remember the surrounding incident so well. LBD had been testing how much magic she needed to fully possess the King, and in the meantime kept him frozen in her crystal ice.

Before she met the Tang Monk on the road by chance, LBD had not realised that the monkey she was looking for was the infamous Monkey King himself. Her Emperor's best hunting party had confirmed it when they were sent back from Alolai bloodied and broken once the monk's bodyguard decided to visit home.

It seems the reason FFM was only being targeted by hunters in the last two years was because of the Ivory Lady letting slip to her Emperor that there was a powerful beast out there that could change fate itself...

The Tang Monk enters the small kingdom, innocently requesting travel papers - only to be summoned forth to the Emperor's palace by the Ivory Lady herself.

After all, the Golden CIcada would be a fine trophy.

Awkwardly the monk asks the court of nobles; "Hey, have there been any monkey demons sighted around here?"

The Emperor and his posse laugh - trotting out nearly a whole troop of captured Alolai monkeys, carrying drink trays and dancing robotically as jesters.

Tripitaka pales. Bajie whispers that he recognises the face patterns as being the same as the King's people. Wujing is holding himself back from throttling the Emperor and his posse then and there. Ao Lie is keeping to himself, still injured from his tussle with Kui Mulang.

The Pilgrims are in for a real hard mission.

Bajie manages to let slip to the monkey demon servants that their King is in danger and nearby, but that they'll need their help to save him. (btw ty for the tasty dialoge)

Monkey Servant: "If you truly saw our king among his people, what eas he doing when you approached him?" Bajie, confused: "He was cuddling a baby monkey and speaking baby talk to it." Monkey Servant, overjoyed: "OH ITS HIM!" Tripitaka: That… that's all you need from us to believe we know your king? Monkey Servant: King Wukong is a shí bǎomǔ. He always cares for the troupes' cubs!

No hesitation. No care for their own safety. These monkeys drop everything to save their King. Which is a major surprise to Bajie and Wujing, as they heard nothing but celestial rumours that the Monkey King had been a bloodthirsty tyrant. But the reactions and actions of his subjects are not that of a repressed people. They speak of their King with the same familiarity as an elder family member - their Lao Sun.

What the mortal Emperor not accounted for was that the "silly monkeys" he kept as slaves had been trained by the Monkey King himself in the art of war. As long as their lives had not been in danger, they still held the cards over him. And his new servants had spent the last two years learning every nook and cranny and secret passage of his castle...

It is with the servants' help that the Pilgrims manage to find their eldest younger brother - frozen in otherworldy ice. Tripitaka's hand nearly burns when he tries touching it.

And outside? Something BIG id going down:

Wukong's icy prison turns out to be the "heart" of LBD's first bone mech - much like what would become of Mei in the later model. This Bone Mech is a far more "rugged" design than what she would build centuries onward. The bones and armour of fallen soldiers can only go so far in aesthetics.

When the Ivory Lady reveals her true intentions to the mortal Emperor, and the Chief of War erases the man from human history - the Pilgrims are just looking up at the Bone Mech like: 0_0

Ao Lie discovers in all of chaos of the Pilgrims' fight against the demon's possessed soldiers; that the Bone Spirit flinches away from fire when a torch from their surroundings rolls dangerously close to her.

Ao Lie is a rare dragon. A royal sea dragon that can wield fire - a trait inherited from his "commoner" mother's side of the family (something about a "Torch Dragon?).

(this ability and heritage is also why many years later, Ao Lie was able to carrying the Burden of the Samadhi Fire even as a sea dragon).

But setting things on fire is eaxctly why the Prince got into trouble in the first place! He hesitates to fight back, especially with survivors of Alolai's Great Burning nearby. What if he messes up Again!?

It's only through encouragement from the other Pilgrims that Ao Lie musters the courage to bring the heat down on the icy mech.

Bajie and Wujing keep the transformed Chief of War occupied so their Master can get closer. For you see, the Ivory Lady's death magic is strong. Only a truly holy being can weaken in...

So, terrified and in pain, Tripitaka is forced to find his power. Inside the chamber of the Mech's heart, he places his hands on Wukong's prison. Rambling off his apologies; how he sent his disciple away, how he ignored his warnings at so many turns, how he thought the demon couldn't understand his fear, how he mistakenly thought the Monkey King was a tyrant and a beast, and how his own actions indirectly led to his disciple's capture.

Wukong isn't particularly coherent. He's half-possessed when he hears his Master's sobbing pleas. They ring louder than any mantra could. The warrior king blocks an attack from hitting the monk, proving that even in an altered state, he would protect him.

Kṣitigarbha, the bodhisattva of the dead, appears to assist the Tang Monk in sealing the Bone Demon away (hopefully) for good. The bodhisattva explains that as a being of the Underworld, the Bone Demon could not be killed, only barred from the world of the living. The only way to weaken her power in this Realm is to trap her somewhere meant for the dead.

Luring her onto holy ground, the Tang monk starts an incantation to seal her inside a burial tomb meant for the mortal Emperor's family.

As much as the Bone Demon thrashes and resists against her chains, she smiles. She knows that it's only time before she can return to the land of the living. The Monkey King has already caused innumerable damage to the fate of others.

And her hunters hadn't turned up with just servants in those two years... seems that the Monkey King had a dear friend in his ranks that could hear the Past, Present, and Future.

Now she and her Chief of War just needed a way to get their claws on the Six Eared Macaque...

Amongst the destruction of this small kingdom, Wukong is carried to shelter by his Master. It takes the king some time to reawaken, but is surprised to see the faces of his pilgrim brothers and his own subjects when he does. The servants, spared from the carnage by the Pilgrims' intervention, hug their king joyfully. Even confused and drained, Wukong hugs his people back, fretting over the youngest of them as a good king should.

Subject: "My King! Your pilgrim brothers told us you were in peril, and did whatever they could to free you!" Wukong, shocked: "They did?" Rest of the Pilgrims: (*awkward smiles of concern. all are messed up from battle*) Subject: "Yes yes! Mr Pig in particular proved he knew you by recalling your gentleness." Wukong, baffled: "What... exactly happened?" Tripitaka: "Let's just say I will endeavor not to blindly disregard your warnings anymore Wukong." Wukong, amused: "Heh."

The Tang Monk recinds his diciple's banishment, promising to do better to heed Wukong's concerns, and not hold his own to himself. The King's subjects get a safe passage home with aid from the flying dragon-horse and the King himself.

As for the Bone Demon? They agree to just tell Wukong about the sealing part. They don't need to burden him with the knowledge that he was nearly used as a battery for a gargantuan bone construct. :)

Wukong is only hit with the memories of the incident during the events of New Years - the webs of the Spider Mech unlocking the key of his time as the First Construct's heart. But why? What was the bone demon's angle? Why did it *need* him?!

Looks like he needs to get digging ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[this-ace-of-spades]

This is more than likely not canon in the slightest. But my brain has latched onto the idea that the reason RinRin has yet to show up again in the story is because she's stuck in Diyu doing paperwork. Not because of any punishment or traps or anything, just that everything is a mess rn and someone needs to be competent.

And that, somehow, she roped Mensheng into being her assistant and coffee gopher.

This idea is a little crack and I love it.

Characters/Story from Queen of the Mountain by @centuryberry

[allmightyscroll-swag]

who's this guy ???

[centuryberry]

No spoilers, I know, but are there any things you’re particularly excited to write about in Accidental Necromancy? 👀

I’m a newer fan of your works, I just found them a few weeks ago, and tbh I think Mensheng is my favorite character so far. I’m *very* excited at the idea of a fic from his POV!

Oooh, love this question! Well, one thing I'm pretty excited to write about is the Ivory Lady in Mensheng's flashback. He overlaps his memories of her with Yue many times in his POV. I'm also excited to write about some moments that never made it to the main fic. (Male Human!Yue makes a comeback!)

But most of all? Mensheng and Xiaotian Quan bonding because those two definitely bonded during the super-long road trip. Something, something loyal dogs separated from their owners but getting attached to their "temporary" younger charges.

[centuryberry]

@void-writing You made me a literal movie poster, Void. Oh my god. This piece is so dynamic and it captures both the determination and desperation of everyone there. It makes me giddy that this is the last thing that Peng sees before the entire group gets teleported away.

Where do I start? The details of the dress Yue wears is exquisite and I love the callback to the crown you gave her in your past works. And you gave Red Son his HORNS!!! Xiaotian Quan looks so menacing! Love the design you gave her! (Poor Louhou and Jidu, they look so scared.)

I knew I recognized Xiaotian’s pose! Thank you for referencing Sokka to the fullest! And, while it was only used during that battle, an honorable mention to the boomerang. You were used as a reference and a convenient surprise attack. You will be missed.

Gosh, this must’ve taken so much time and effort to make! You’re amazing, Void!

Escape from Flower Fruit Mountain

"What can you do? You were all trapped. Either you all die in Peng’s hands or the celestial flames burn you all alive. You never should’ve sent your brothers inside. There’s no exit, no - wait.

There was a way out. The transportation circle in your room you never quite got to erasing."

Chapter 15 of "Queen of the Mountain" by @centuryberry

[elvirable]

Ambrosia (Act 1)

[ Astarion x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count: 2k | status: ongoing themes/tags: vaginal sex, feelings realization, denial of feelings, light smut.. for now, and a whole lotta angst, will add more smut tho in the next chapters, soulmates, fluff, written as a glimpse into his mind during each act ———–

Astarion would never tell you, though - it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

In other words: A delve into Astarion's thoughts, starting with the day he met you. *will update description at some point. ———– A/N: i wrote this as a peek into Astarion's mind throughout Act 1. plan to continue as i progress throughout the game. lmk what you think and if you like this style!

-------

Grief had a penchant for wearing different masks.

Phantom faces that slithered through shadows, white-hot wrath that clawed at the throat, an endless gnawing that swallowed one whole: all faces of a primordial monster that had existed before time itself.

Astarion knew all this. 

He had met them all �� intimate with its simplest form, a cold polarizing solitude; a loyal companion for two centuries, teaching him to lick his wounds with malice. Others had taken everything from him, or they were too weak to lift a meaningful finger. It took several lifetimes to finally mend his precious pride back together. Why should he practice mercy when no one had shown him any?

And by some stroke of luck, he was free – at least for now. Opportunity had fallen before his feet; he could chase after power, clutch revenge in his pale fingers, walk amongst the sun. Red eyes clung to the light glimmering across the water and wavering leaves. A desperate urge pulsed up his spine, insisting he memorize each saturated detail before it faded away like the most ethereal dream. The exhilaration rose wildly before plummeting to the pits of his stomach.

Huh, that was odd. It had never dawned on him that grief could also bloom in the slow, golden sunlight.

Languid beams washed against his flesh and through the faint hem of his shirt. Every fiber of his skin ached, dull and shallow, at the sacred warmth that had been a stranger for so long. He felt this haunted and holy gift – the vigor of life from each ray of light running over his fair face. Reunited once again, like long-lost lovers.

It was the sound of boots thudding against dirt that pulled him back into the world, on the ravaged beachfront. 

With straight posture, a hollow smile painted itself across his lips. ==

“You have your mother’s eyes, you know.”

No, he didn’t know.

Quiet was this small voice that, for some odd reason, had grasped onto his conscience the night he died. It had sung loud in the beginning, but now it was just a whisper. Everything else had reduced to dust, long-buried beneath the cold earth. 

But if he could conjure the ghost of his mother, he couldn’t be bothered to. Astarion envisioned a sharp tsk , a scowl dripping with disgust if she could see the creature he was today: a thrall to his own hedonistic desires, wielding manipulation and seduction as an instrument. A vampire , taking solace amongst the shadows and draining the life around him.

Maybe he was the same, just calloused and rearranged by the fate spun for him. 

However, there was no need to exhume the past. It proved futile anyway; he couldn’t even recall the previous hue of his eyes, much less run his hands over his reflection. The only thing worthy of concern was survival. Memories had been shrouded by the same pivotal virtue, the one that carved the habit to become shapeless – to cater to every impulse and whim of those who could serve useful. Those who could protect him, at least for the time being.

And that was exactly what he tried with you, as his breath was inches from your slender neck and your eyes widened in hazy alarm, catching him by surprise. 

“Shit.”

You scuttered to your feet in the frantic silence, dozens of excuses fluttering to Astarion’s tongue. The fatigue of bloodthirst hindered his wit, but he raised his palms in reservation.

He had already taken note of your misleading presence – you were small, but heavens , would you put up a fight. Other companions had already turned towards you for guidance the past few days, and you were carved with a beauty that could intimidate. Though, there were cracks underneath that facade – ones with darkness in between. 

Peering into these cracks was his only outlet to earn your trust; after all, it was paramount for survival.

“I – I wasn’t going to hurt you,” exasperated breaths pushed from his throat. “I just needed, well.. blood.”

Basked in the dim firelight, your wary gaze studied him for what he really was: a vampire, a slave to sanguine hunger. He caught the stutter in your furrowed brows before they eased. Smug delight settled in his nerves when you, although with apprehension, allowed him to taste you.

Astarion eagerly obliged, immediately losing himself in the euphoria– the sweet vigor of your blood, how silky and rich. A low hum vibrated in his throat, and he barely registered when your palms pushed his broad weight off of you. Lush satisfaction that quenched his blood-thirst still coursed through him like a stimulant, but he still caught the tail-end of your groan.

“I don’t care that you’re a vampire. Just –,” you paused briefly to reel from your daze. “We’re all a team now, so I have to have some trust in you. Just ask next time.”

He felt happy, more alive – not only from the fresh blood still lingering on his tongue, but that you trusted him. Maybe not entirely, but the anchor had already been dropped; one step closer to wrapping you around his finger, even if you weren’t entirely flexible. He could feel it in your gaze, in the little quivers that rolled through you while his fangs sunk into your soft skin.

Once you had returned to sleep and his frenzied nerves quelled, he mulled over your parting words. You weren’t phased’ that he was a vampire, instead placing emphasis on trust. You were full of surprises – especially when the entire world met him with repulse.

Something that had been fossilized inside him tremored, as if it began to thaw. ==

There was a thin chill in the evening air, in the way nature prepares for a new season. And he hated you. 

Well, he didn’t hate you – frankly, he couldn’t get enough of you; that was the issue. 

You plagued his thoughts like a helpless addiction, better yet like a mirror; one he had repeatedly peered into, struggling to find the right angle and when he did – he was left staring at you.

Those careful eyes – a mocking reminder of everything he could have been. So different, so resilient, so disgustingly kind.

Since the day he laid eyes on you, he was the first to glimpse at your secret hidden in plain sight. Your habit of hiding yourself from everyone you came across, retreating behind stone-bared walls and tailoring a facade just enough to avoid drawing attention. Reserved lips were a mere confirmation you sealed away a vault of grief that you didn’t want – or need – clumsy, temporary hands to pry open. 

That discreet resolve particularly made you the sour dagger twisting between his ribs. Grief had been your companion as well, but its mark never trickled from anywhere else – not a warbled voice or frustrated bout. It was only noticeable through a fleeting glint in your eyes. Meanwhile, he had made this medley of rage and anguish his armor. It had fused to skin, and he no longer knew how to scrape it off. Astarion dedicated decades to cursing the Gods. You ignored them.

He knew he should despise you and eagerly await the day he could shatter this mirror you were – but all bitterness dissolved in your presence. You had become his wonderfully terrible affliction; withdrawals could damn near kill him if they were to happen.

Ribbons unraveled from his chest with each conversation, whether it pertained to the graveness of the journey or a simple ‘good morning’ from your lips. Strange yet blissful, he could feel himself surrendering every bitter pang for the peculiar sensation of… comfort .

Once laced with such harshness, his mind eased with familiarity. An interesting chord of harmony, he thought, the two of you. From the start of the journey until now, you shared an enriching balance. He would encourage you to be more outspoken, while you stirred him to be authentic and soft – even if you weren’t aware. 

You were stable like bedrock; never once expecting to be selfless or pious, instead only demanded transparency – at least to the extent he was willing to concede. Aside from the occasional brow-raise or retort, judgment never twisted your face. Respect was a new sensation to him, as you gave him yours.

This dynamic, this balance ; it was irresistibly and invariably warm. 

==

The rendezvous sort of just fell into habit. 

Every night he would savor the ambrosia from your neck, and one evening tension gave way to carnal desire. Whether it was a simple cathartic release or not, he didn’t care; tender moments bathed in amber firelight or the hush of the night had always left him craving more.

“You’re such a tease .”

You’d whisper those words every so often those sacred nights, and a rakish grin would slide across his face without fail. Lust gripped him, but never once weaved with routine; the way your legs parted to invite him in left Astarion with an insatiable urge to indulge in everything you were willing to give him. He could spend the entire evening with his head between your thighs, cold hands steadying your quivering legs as his tongue lured you to new heights of pleasure – giving you exactly what you needed. 

When he was with you – skin pressed together, desperate hums like honey – he began to relish in taking things slow. 

He preferred the nights where your bare body writhed beneath him and melted against his, while he eagerly coaxed wispy whines from your lips. No matter how wet and ready you were, his girth always met resistance as he parted your warm, sensitive walls. Your skin buzzed at the sensation of his cock splitting you open, like every time was the first you’ve been touched.

Desire laced every word he whispered into the curve of your neck, each encouraging and soft. His pace was slow, pushing into the depth of your core, buried deep enough to kiss your cervix with each thrust. Low, guttural grunts left his throat as your body’s natural instinct clenched around his throbbing cock. 

Despite his centuries of experience, he found himself struggling to restrain from succumbing to the all-consuming euphoria of it all: your lashes wet from your tears, precious gasps warm against his skin, the desirous ache to fuck you the way that pretty face beckoned to be fucked. 

The unbridled intimacy – which felt so real and tender was enough to send him over the edge. His veins hummed with yearning as he drank in the vision beneath him; your skin flushed, shaky whines that sung his name as he pushed you to pleasure. And when you wrapped your legs to press him deeper – he surrendered to the white-hot bliss. 

Although Astarion would never tell a soul, his most treasured moments were spent after desperate breaths calmed and the entire world stilled.

It was never long before you lulled into sleep, and your weight slacked against his broad chest. He lingered over each detail with softer eyes; the gentle curl of your lashes, a freckle he had missed the last time. Peace graced such beautiful features, ones that were usually still with resolve. There had never been another face quite like yours in the two centuries he had lurked amongst the earth.

Your chest rose and fell slowly before you would eventually fidget, still deep in slumber, to slink an arm over his waist. His gentle hand grasped the one that rested against his chest, careful not to stir you, as he ran his fingers over your silk skin. Such delicate hands, he mused, that had to grapple their way through life.

He pressed a silent kiss against the back of your palm before laying it back on his chest. 

In the silence, something washed over him – that rousing feeling that he never knew quite what to make of. 

His eyes swept once more to watch the shuffle of your face, buried now against his side. Your hazy sighs warmed his bare skin. Astarion could almost laugh, imagining your face reddening if he ever shared how affectionate you were in your sleep.

Though he would never tell you – it was his little secret, one he hid away just for himself.

[amazingdeadfish]

Do u think u could make an opera version of mayor? I've seen a few artists make diff opera wukong/Mac designs but I think a opera mayor design would look very cool :D

Not gonna lie, I was nervous to do this, but, I don't regret trying out this challenge.

RAMBLES + (literally only two) REFERANCES BELOW THE CUT:

The costume is based on the classic armor outfit in Chinese Peking Opera. Since, we all know that the Mayor doesn't actually have that many identifiable characteristics or, much of a role in the LMK show other than being LBD's foot soldier or, thrall. So, I had to reflect that in what's probably an incredibly basic interpretation for what their design could be (because if you actually see the insane level amount of detail in peking opera outfits, you'll understand that this drawing is heavily simplified and lacks detail).

The mask, is, also simple. I tried to look at numerous references and get my head around the insane amount of possibilities of patterns and designs and what they mean, as well as what the colours symbolize, but all that's important is that blue symbolizes stoicism, black for integrity, and white symbolizes evil (but of course these meanings for colours have leeway in between depending on what source you look at. There is no definitive answer).

The mask is also important because it creates the most visual distinction from Mayor being a Jing instead of a Sheng (male protagonist). And, even though it's a basic mask, I did create it to imply an almost 'skull' shape to it. But it's discrete and, you have to be looking for it to be there (which I suppose fits because, Mayor being LBD's thrall wasn't revealed straight away)

Now okay look, I'm- I'm not an expert on peking opera at all, I had to do a bit or research to do this in order to actually understand what I am doing when it comes to designing an outfit for Mayor. You might see a hint of his Chief costume in the chest plate I decided to keep, and all those skull motifs to show that he is a thrall of Lady Bone Demon. But in short, he is a warrior, a soldier, a chief of war, and he fights and works for Lady Bone Demon. He is to be a character with heavy, dramatic armor, and a mask to not only symbolize his role in whatever theatre show he lands himself in, but also for the shrouded identity he has and, well, not exactly being the most in-depth or open character in the show :))).

Anyways, here's a beta design back when I legitimately had no idea what I was doing and had done like zero research apart from looking at references I lied and, thinking Mayor would have a 'lighter (less heavy) and less decorative outfit (clearly I changed my mind later on):

I am, glad I did not follow through with this design. This is, not a peking opera outfit. Not a conventional one at least, that would reflect who the Mayor is (because this mf is conventional as hell, fitting in with modern times with his suit and all).

And here are the, uh, two references I used (obviously there's more but, these two were the ones I really picked apart and analyzed and, have clearly referenced):

And yes, I copied the pose on the right.

Design is welcome for critique (again, I am not an expert on peking opera (it's such a vast, complex, and wonderful artform that the more I found out the more I was intimidated by) and possibly subjected to be redesigned later on should I look back on this months-years later and cringe horrifically.

[apiswitchcraft]

understanding norse runes: a historical and modern perspective pt. 2

Here's part two! If you need clarification on anything please lmk! <3

For part 1 click here, and part 3 here.

ᚺ hagalaz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Hail is the whitest of grain;

it is whirled from heaven's loft

tossed about by wind gusts,

then melts into water."

NORWEGIAN:

"Hail is the coldest of grains:

Christ created the primaeval world."

(not the Christian Christ, just an epithet for Odin)

ICELANDIC:

"Hail is cold grain

and driving sleet

and sickness of serpents."

INTERPRETATION: Starting out strong, hagalaz thankfully only has one meaning, and that's "hail." Unrelatedly, this rune is also one of the first overtly negative runes (of course, the meaning truly depends on the surrounding staves you pull, but nevertheless), representing uncomfortable change, possibly a crisis. Associated with the goddess Hel, it represents both her aspects: the cold goddess of death, and the plentiful goddess of life. Hagalaz shows us that change is on the horizon, but that it will be a time of learning, of becoming evermore wiser. Similar to The Moon card in tarot, this stave also represents the secrets of the runes, the dark side. A side we nevertheless have to confront in order to overcome great stressors. Doubtlessly, this transformation will cause us some pain, but hail is considered the seed of possibilities. Though in solid form it may hurt or harm us, when melted it may nourish the struggling sapling. It has great potential, especially considering this is the ninth rune, a number that appears repeatedly in Norse Mythology. This stave has us confronting our worst fears and suffering, and telling us to learn from them, to become a better person. We have to create our own inner harmony, despite whatever may get in our way.

KEY WORDS: Disruption, upheaval, catalyst, potential

ASSOCIATIONS: Hel, the Norns (specifically Urdh, the past), Heimdall

ᚾ nauthiz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Need is nearest to the breast,

yet often proves to children of men

a source of help and healing

if they heed it betimes."

NORWEGIAN:

"Need leaves little choice;

the naked man is chilled by frost."

ICELANDIC:

"Need is distress of thrall-woman

and state of oppression

and hard work."

INTERPRETATION: A rune often associated with the Norns, especially Skuld (the future), nauthiz is all about "necessity" and inevitability. The future is inescapable, but it can be used to our advantage. To understand this rune, we have to understand our own needs and purpose(s) as well. Usually, these are outside of our control. A lack of food caused by war creates a necessity for food. It is outside of the individual sufferer's hands. However, it can spur a person to act in whatever way they can, it's the spark of what is called the "needfire," vital to cause and effect. Need defines action defines life. Yes, this rune can be interpreted as a negative one, no doubt. But, again, runes are not as simple and straightforward as Tarot. If you pulled kenaz with nauthiz, you might look more closely at the "needfire" aspect of this reading, or if you pulled wunjo you might see this as more of a needs to an end. Which, really, that's all this rune represents: the needs to an end. You are not stuck in this state of lack, rather it is the lack that will turn the Norns' bow-drill to usher in a new era. Whereas hagalaz is more of a rigid, set in stone, nauthiz is about moving on from that suffering.

KEY WORDS: Necessity, inevitability, the future, constraint, hardship

ASSOCIATIONS: The Norns (specifically Skuld)

ᛁ isa

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Ice be overcold, unmeasurably slippery,

glisteneth clear as glass, to gems likest;

a floor by frost wrought, fair to be seen."

NORWEGIAN:

"Ice we call the broad bridge;

The blind man must be led."

ICELANDIC:

"Ice is bark of rivers

and roof of the wave

and destruction for doomed men."

INTERPRETATION: Isa, true to its similar pronunciation, just means "ice." In this way, it has two divinatory meanings: one as an unmoving, unwavering shield, and one as a static, frozen object/individual. It can help to lessen disturbances and chaos, to soothe the fires of the earlier runes. This stave can mean stasis, but it can also mean clarity, a deep concentration. Stuck in the ice, you would have an awful long time to think, no? Rest is important for all things, but especially so in times of chaos. When the fires of kenaz or thurisaz get too hot, isa is there to cool things down. Furthermore, though, this rune can represent an unwilling stagnation, a frustrating situation or relationship. Stuck quarreling with a lover, this rune would be emblematic of how the reader would be feeling in that moment. Similarly, we can take this rune to represent the present, the Norn Verdandi. As a rune of advice, the reader is being told to watch and wait, to get a lay of the land before continuing onward. As much as a swirling blizzard can freeze you out, an igloo can keep you safe from the perils of frostbite, so it all depends on the adjacent runes in the reading. What do you need before you can continue? What is the crux of what's holding you back? All of these are things you need to consider.

KEY WORDS: Stagnation, pause, waiting, patience, preservation

ASSOCIATIONS: The Norns (especially Verdandi)

ᛃ jera

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Summer is called joyful, when God lets,

holy heaven's king--shining fruits

be born from earth for rich and poor."

NORWEGIAN:

"Harvest is a blessing to men;

I say that Frodhi was liberal."

ICELANDIC:

"Harvest is a blessing to men

and good summer

and fully ripe crops."

INTERPRETATION: An often encouraging stave to pull in a reading, jera's literal translation is "year." In the harsher climates of the North, it is easy to lose track of the four seasons, and have the warmer and colder months blend together. In this way, jera represents not only summer, but also a good harvest. Every year, as the wheel of the year makes its rounds, crops must be yet again sown, cared for, and yielded. The old is reborn and the young turns to old. A symbol of dance, play, and marriage, this rune can also be associated with Freyja and Freyr, two deities strongly associated with the summertime. In divination, jera advises us to see everything as a constantly moving cycle. As soon as bad things come, they will leave, and good things replace them. Nothing is permanent, not even our most cherished. If blocked or neglected, a poor harvest is almost assured, and suffering is indicated. But when nurtured the right way, it can heal the deepest wounds and give rebirth to the greatest joys. An emphasis is also placed on creating new relationships and strengthening existing ones. Cherish your friends and family whenever possible.

KEY WORDS: Harvest, cycle, repetition, plenty

ASSOCIATIONS: Freyja and Freyr

ᛇ eihwaz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"The yew outside is a rough-barked tree,

but strong and firm, guard of fires,

by deep roots upheld, joy to the home."

NORWEGIAN:

"Yew is the greenest of trees in winter;

when it burns, it sputters."

ICELANDIC:

"Yew is bent bow

and brittle iron

and Farbauti of the arrow."

INTERPRETATION: Eihwaz is known as the "yew," and often represents Yggdrasil, the World Tree that Odin hung himself from over nine days and nine nights for the knowledge of the runes. Because of this, this stave often represents spiritual enlightenment, and connection between the physical and metaphysical realms. As the yew was consistently used for bow-making, this is a rune also associated with hunting and the wild (and furthermore masculinity, but I find that to be a bit sexist). A bridge between life and death, sky and earth, the heavens and the Underworld, eihwaz is a great rune for communing, divination, or necromancy. It is a connection between paradoxes, between opposites, and is also associated with graveyards. But no matter what, these connections have to be made thoughtfully, and with great trepidation. Carelessness has no place in this space, as it could just as easily turn from good to bad. -==32

KEY WORDS: Enlightenment, transformation, connection, paradox

ASSOCIATIONS: Odin, Yggdrasil

ᛈ perthro

ANGLO-SAXON:

"The chess piece means play and laughter

where in the middle, the warriors sit

in beerhall blithely together."

INTERPRETATION: Considering it was a letter commonly used, perthro has a fairly ambiguous meaning of "lot cup" or "game piece." Either way, the literal interpretation involves the drawing of lots, and chance. Divination wise, perthro is said to represent both the dice and the mode of throwing the dice, simultaneously mysterious and all-knowing. Considering this wealth of knowledge that perthro is said to contain, it is no wonder that it is heavily associated with Mimir, who is renowned for his wisdom. Furthermore, because of it's association with vessels (odd, I know), this stave also represents with the female womb and childbirth. For this reason, it is also associated with Frigg, a seeress and goddess of childbirth. Frigg, though she is said to know all, she also tells nothing. This doubles down on the mysterious, hidden powers of perthro, being both the runes themselves and their meanings. Additionally, being a rune of fate, it represents the Norns as a whole, and their powers.

KEY WORDS: Fate, luck, mystery, secrets, feminine energy

ASSOCIATIONS: Mimir, Frigg, Norns

ᛉ algiz

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Elk-sedge is found most often in fens,

waxes in water, wounds grimly,

with blood burns whatever warrior

that goes to grasp it."

INTERPRETATION: Aha! My favorite rune, how exciting. A rune meaning "elk," algiz is a powerful protective symbol. Considering the imagery of an elk, we can draw connections to god of the hunt, Freyr, who is often depicted with antlers. From Freyr we can then discern meanings of sexual awakening, the fighting spirit, and divine communication. With it's three pronged appearance we can create a number of different interpretations: the elements, a sacred forest grove, masculinity/femininity, the Yggdrasil, and even the Bifrost. I've also seen people consider it as a double-edged sword of a stave, a protective symbol but only as long as you have enough power and discipline to wield it. This is especially pertinent if we consider this as a rune of divine protection, as it would be doubtlessly foolhardy to demand protection from the gods while giving nothing in return. A weapon that can be wielded by you or against you.

KEY WORDS: Protection, guardian, sanctuary, the hunt

ASSOCIATIONS: Freyr

ᛊ sowilo

ANGLO-SAXON:

"Sun to seamen is a hope on high

when they ferry over the fishes' bath

until the sea-horse brings them to land."

NORWEGIAN:

"Sun is the light of the lands;

I bow to heaven's doom."

ICELANDIC:

"Sun is shield of the sky

and shining ray

and destroyer of the ice."

INTERPRETATION: Alright! Last one for this aett, sowilo means "sun." Not only the literal sun, this stave represents the force of the heavens, the wealth that it provides and the harm that it can cause. It brings illumination and clarification, as it also shows us where our path lays--what our goals may be. If we consider a connection between the sun god Apollo (a bright, beautiful youth) and Baldr (also a bright, beautiful youth), then new aspects can be revealed to us such as victory, strength, life force, and energy. It encourages us to have hope in our future, and to look towards the horizon. Just like the wheel of the sun whirls around the cosmos, so too does sowilo encourage us to break our stagnation and act. What we desire is within our grasp, all we have to do it reach out and grab it! This rune is one of great positivity and encouragement, and is a pleasure to see in a reading.

KEY WORDS: Success, illumination, achievement, energy

ASSOCIATIONS: Baldr

[reticent-fate]

Hope it's alright for us to repeat some advice we've seen around the block.

For context: we didn't have to use any of this advice and were luckily able to directly get to a rheumatologist who performed the poke test to be Absolutely Sure that our fibros are myalgiang before slapping us with a prescription and more shit to also check out in the meantime. Our rheum also wanted to rule out any other complications, so we got the full body x-ray treatment and blood work to get done.

Basically, keep in mind that the mystery might not end with fibromyalgia, especially with some of those symptoms you're describing. Since we only have one presentation of fibro, we can't really say whether all of your symptoms are covered by it or not, but like either way the Aches should get checked out, and you'll probably have to get more things checked out afterwards. It can be exhausting.

First recommendation is to get a referral to a rheumatologist if you haven't seen one already about this--- you didn't specify what kind of specialists you've seen, so if that's redundant, uhhh, on to the repeated advice we've seen.

Since your doctor is refusing to let you investigate fibromyalgia despite symptoms suggesting you need an assessment, I would make it explicitly clear that they need to put that on your chart that they're denying you proper care. This pressures them to report their own malpractice, in the same way that if your doctor was to be doing something fatphobic you would want them to write down why they refuse to treat your conditions.

If you have the option to see someone else, consider that too. Doctors are supposed to provide you a professional service, and it really sucks when you have to change because they aren't doing their job, but unfortunately some just aren't trained to think about chronic illness as anything more than So Rare They'll Never See It. (Or they've just flat out learned incorrect information about presentation of the chronic condition so, you know.)

This is also probably redundant, but if you have a record of your symptoms and when they started, this can help when investigating chronic illness. It took us a while to investigate fibro with our medical team, but that was only because we had zero data. If all your tests come back clean, yet you're still experiencing pain with no clear source (and this has been going on for at least a few months), then bringing that proof of symptoms up can kind of help underscore the situation.

I don't know if any of this might be helpful to you, but hopefully you're able to get your care team to take your concerns seriously. Sending what spoons we can and wishing you luck!

-Heit (he/him)

Chronic back pain bitches of tumblr please.

X-rays, MRIs, tests across six years all come back normal and PT just hurts me worse and yet I struggle to get out of bed and complete most tasks. My back pain is 6-7 on a good day and doing the dishes or sweeping the floor turns it to an instant 9. I have a six inch circle of numbness around my pain area and sometimes my hands go numb and tingly and sometimes my vision gets dark and I pass out.

My doctor acted like I was stupid and didn't understand what a fibromyalgia dx was and did not let me pursue that route. I've had like seven doctors and physical therapists, specialists, even a chiropractor, and they all just keep telling me to drink water and exercise as if exercise doesn't hurt me worse.

What else can I do. This is destroying my will to live.

[this-ace-of-spades]

Old Collar, New Leash

[kit27x]

Reincarnated Shadows (LMK Au)

Info/more images below :3

This au is pretty much. What if Mk was Macaque reincarnation. He is still born from the stone. Just now he has a fragment of Mac's soul. Mk still has his show abilities, but now Macaque's moveset as well. Unlike the show, Mk always had his shadows unlike how he slowly gains them after pulling the staff.

Of course, he doesn't have it all down, but still, he knows at the beginning that he is not fully human. Just doesn't know he's a monkey. Mk has sensitive hearing and at most times has his headphones near him.

His monkey form is like an eclipse. Six ears have different colors. Each pair has significant hearing as Macaque does. The top hears future, the middle hears present, and the bottom hears the past. Mk throughout season 1 and maybe two struggles with this. Only hearing certain foreboding information that keeps him on guard. He likes hearing past interactions with his family to relax sometimes.

The sunset staff. Mk can merge the shadow staff and Monkey King staff into one. When DBK took the staff Mk was able to summon up the shadow staff for the first time. His thoughts made the shadows form it. Now that he has two he has decided to merge them when in battle.

The smoke monster has an upgrade mixing with Mk Warform from the season 4 special. I just made a fusion of the two forms. Mk achieves this form during the events of episode 9. That makes you wonder. What would the presence of the episode Macaque even be if Mk is well Ma?.

Now well LBD still needs an champion.

Look here Macaque! What do you mean something wrong with him? Well, what do you expect if your soul is fragmented and piece of it now stuck to some dumb kid?

Macaque or Husk as my pal and I called it when creating this au is under the control of LBD. Husk's body was pulled from the grave and isn't quite complete so he is more than some mindless thrall at the moment. The only thing the former shadow master wants is to be whole again.

Episode 9 is Mk leaving to train on his own and running into a deadly foe. He summons the sunset monster to escape from the husk before Wukong can join the fight.

This au was actually made when writing "My Shadow Follows me" Just a sudden idea my Rp/Writing partner @burning-clutch thought of when we were roleplaying that story. Finally got time to draw it even if it been months since the idea was thought about.

[centuryberry]

lowkwy Highkey need to analyse those visions of the future and past Yue had like

You have no one else to blame but yourself! You did this! You’re the reason why she’s gone-!”

First of all I have so many guesses on who this could be I'm tweaking

“We shall leave it to the Four Guardian Beasts to ensure that balance is kept in the world. This is the only way to keep everyone safe. From them.”

Like those guardian animals guarding Nuwa's stones in LMK season 5?

From who????

Is this a celestial or is it not a celestial? Maybe Buddha or Guanyin? Or Nuwa? Maybe the Empress Mother

“Erase it. Erase every trace of her until the world forgets her name. I don’t care how you do it! Just erase it all!”

Jade Emperor dur

“Not my son! Please! Have mercy on my son! He has done nothing to offend you! Why are you doing this? And you! How can you call yourself a father when you’re standing aside and letting them–?”

Are they talking about Red Son here or someone else?

Sons: Nezha, Redson, MK, Ao something, one of the twins (but I doubt it)

“Look at what they’ve done to him! A pale shade of what he was! This isn’t justice, this is about control! My love, this is not the time to be careful. This is the time to –”

PIF is that you??

“Uncle! You have gone too far with this! They are just–!”

Nezha what happened?

Is he a thrall pls say nah

“I am sorry, my child. I have failed you.”

This is so vague 😭

Deadass could be anyone with a child and I'm too tired to write that my top 5 though: Nuwa, PIF, Empress Mother, Ao Lie, or literally any other parent.

“ – stay dormant through generations as long as the rings are secure and hidden. And before you say anything, this was because of your mistake. This wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t intervened! This is the best outcome considering the circumstances. For the good of–”

Whos mistake?

Also who or what's staying dormant? The Samadhi Fire?

Honestly the Samadhi fire prolly most likely gonna play a big ass role in this ice zombie apocalypse lmao they're literally White Walkers like the ones from Game of Thrones

“...seal…under the mountain…”

The Bull fam or Wukong

“ –spreading uncontrollably! It can’t be contained! At this rate, this will reach–!”

The infection

now for the futureee wtfd wjqkwbkqkq

"We remember. Even when Heaven wants us to forget you, we will always remember. Even after all the temples were destroyed, we still lit a candle for you.”

We know that was Ma about our girl

“...banished some, executed the others, and subdued the rest. We didn’t understand everything that was happening since we were so young, but we knew that much. So much suffering…”

The twins most likely

😭 give them their talkkkk

“...Island…Lantern…Moon…Scroll…find them all and release…from his shackles...”

Island - Wukong? Similar to the LMK series where flower fruit moment is

Lantern - Macaque oof he is probably been stuck their for centuries imagine waking up and your family's gone to shit most are dead or basically dead, your kids are grown up without you yikes.

I mean it's the same for the rest of them too yikes but damn the guilt from the parents is gonna be real

I thought this wasn't gonna be another major angst fic 😭

Curse you! There better NOT be major character death if any of my hoe's die PERMANENTLY like in "With a Little Soul That Could" imma find where you live 😭 and force you to rewrite that shit now

“Foolish child! This is greater than your petty grudges and old wrongs!”

Damn who we talking to?

“Learn your place, you filthy animals.”

I got nothing a celestial maybe?

“...even…fall…nothing lasts forever…never forgave…”

I feel like I should know but I don't

“Because I love you so much, I’ll give you a hint. What’s the lucky number? C’mon, babe, this is easy stuff! You’re the one who taught me, remember? What’s the lucky number?”

🤯😱

Xiaotian Fragment that you?!!!!

Or is it like those Tony stark pre death hologram videos

One of his clones?

Is it Xiaotian or am I tripping?

“...this world isn’t worth saving…”

Huh.

Lowkey highkey very ominous

Isn't that what Yue and LBD were thinking?

Can Yue hear thoughts or did someone say this aloud?

“Godkiller.”

Our Queen Yue 🎉

I cannot believe I am following another fic of yours 😭 I love it though incredibel writing and the foreshadowing is actually insane

You can't stOP mE frOm makinG My TheORies

Oh my god, "Little Soul" mention on a Tuesday morning???? I can't believe you followed me from the Undertale fandom to the LMK fandom.

Well, as a veteran of my older works, I'll briefly step away from my "no spoiler" stance to reveal this: Queen of the Mountain will have a happy ending. None of that bittersweet tragedy. It will have a happy ending. I will not kill off anyone important to Yue. The Monkey Fam will be together again. (Honestly, I wrote myself into a corner when writing "Little Soul" so I had to pick between forcing a happy ending or keeping the integral message even if the ending was tragic. That won't happen again. I've written so, so many fluffy AUs as an apology for that ending.)

Now, onto the commentary about your theories: These are super detailed! I love the thought you put into your guesses and your comments! We'll see how many of these theories come true in the coming chapters!

[rebeltigera]

Sorry, I meant: YOU HAVE A POSSESSED MACAQUE AU ? And little Mk end up in a little prison ? Bio my boy! How ?

Shadowpeach is a virus alright?

It happened by pure accident , I was just like *I can't do SL Mac bad in the way I want, what if he was a villain instead *

And a very angry monkey with issues emerged , I decided to dress it well and here u go

About the plot-

It started similar to SL au/lmk , Mac and Wukong were happy, Wukong went searching for immortalities, brotherhood happened, havoc in heaven happened , all of the punishments happened

And Wukong went on the journey

Mac wanted to rescue that fool like the most fan adaptations say , but unluckily he got caught by Lbd and he got possesed

Fully aware under possession he went to fight with Wukong .

Wukong didn't kill him , mainly because Tripitaka intervened. Tripitaka sealed Mac away , together with LBD inside, still possessing him

Mac spent 1000 years sealed away , hoping that his king will come to his rescue one day.

Because Wukong knew. Wukong knew he was possessed.

But it didn't happen. Oh how the betrayal hurt.

So he took a deal which LBD proposed - revenge. She couldn't hold herself alone and Mac couldn't do that too. It was too long and they practically merged together - will of Lbd , and Mac's in unison, creating that monstrosity of a monkey he was now

He got free from the tomb by thrall's hand and some poor demon that got wronged , the demon died shortly after

----And that's the part I have fully fleshed out, the rest is still cooking----

Mac now needs power more than anything so there's few options

He can either steal it, kill demons for it , scheme with spider queen-

But the most probable one - he will play Mk's friend for the time being. Who would not want to meet another monkey-like creature? Especially that this one is smarter, knows stories about the king , and other beings alike?

The kid is like a beam of light in the city - perfect battery

So he will passively recharge himself . It won't be difficult if Wukong isn't around now, is it?

Until the moment they'll notice- it will be too late when they do.

And he will start his grand scheming, kidnapping MK , you know, some soy sauce duo time

Mac's mind is purely on revenge

And maybe wiping out whole world

But that's just a maybe

Either way, Mac dies at the end of it all , and Wukong suffers

[yermes]

Hello: asks are open for three days between work and prep for my ever exciting venture to fall term 🫶

Ask me stupid shit, serious shit, romantic shit etc if you want it to be posted privately just LMK!!! 💫

Time frame of ask event 🍁

9/11/24-9/14/24

If you want to request certain decks 🃏

Rider waite

Knitting tarot

Nordic tarot deck

Carnival at the end of the world

Ethereal Visions

Ettelia Deck

Green glyphs lenormand

Grand tableu lenormand

Thoth tarot deck

Hermetic tarot deck

Rules and reminders 🐦‍⬛🍂🪻

Please please keep in mind I’m a busy lady. I will get to readings during this time period I just work so please no spam. I just have work and school coming up but I wanted to do one more fun event before im in the thralls of three classes and two labs in the quarter

I am just some biomed engineering student / magician just trying to have fun, if it becomes un fun I will no longer do asks

[sholena4life]

Escapism - 1

MHA x Reader

This AU is so convoluted... I couldn't decided if I wanted to stick with a classic fantasy AU or something more Middle Ages-accurate, so this hybrid was created

LMK if you want this continued, and LMK what pairing you want to see at the end of this chapter

CW: vague references to war and violence, vaguely implied PTSD, Reader is fem in this one, Reader is a farm girl who manages her household, Reader's father is a retired soldier

 I sight him across the field well before he sees me. 

  I’m drawing water from the well, trying to ignore the sun- a bit past its peak- when I catch the glint of metal across the field separating the plot of land our home stands from the treeline. It catches my attention immediately. No merchant strays far from the road, even when harassed. And no merchant I have ever seen glints in the sun like that. 

  I draw my pail up from the well as quickly as the weight allows me, unhooking it almost haphazardly as I take it in my arms, waddling back home. Why does water have to be so heavy, anyways? I can carry a sack with either arm simultaneously with relative ease, but I still huff and puff over a single bucket of water. I clear my mind of those thoughts quickly, pushing the front door open with my hip wobbly, trying to keep my balance as I push it open. I leave the water by the door, hurrying around the kitchen, tittering to myself over where I might’ve left my scarf. My father could care less about how I present my hair- being unmarried, and all- but I find a certain level of security in it. Like the mail armor soldier’s don, making them feel ten feet tall. 

  I discover my scarf, wrapping it around my hair and quickly tucking what I can under the covering. I move to the door with worried nerves, smoothing out my apron dress as I approach the door frame. I peek my head out again, seeing the glinting metal closer, half-way through the field already. There is no avoiding it. I step out, steadying myself as I wait on my side of the field, taking a few wary steps from the house. The closer the form gets, the more it becomes clear it itself dons armor- the kind that comes from ore. 

  It does not soothe my heart. 

  I have not seen many soldiers in my life. My father sold his armor long ago, though he keeps his weapons wrapped and stored tenderly. He tells me he was once mighty himself, commissioned by kings to fight in their skirmishes. That is how he afforded all this land, while maintaining the privacy with a lack of thralls. Though, I have seen a few lean boys in my life come running to him, begging for an apprenticeship. I have watched those same boys wrinkle their noses when my father brandishes his hand out over our land. I was as unimpressed with them as they were with my father’s new life. 

  I force myself to stand still and not run for my father as the form grows nearer. The newcomer wears not mail armor, but rather plated, bulky armor. It is only when he reaches the edge of the field that I sight the broadsword at his side. Oh, dear. I swallow the dry frog stuck in my throat, trying to coax the color back to my cheeks.

  The stranger stops a few yards from me, his face falling as he looks at me, eyeing me almost warily, as if I am the one easily reaching eighteen hands tall, with a broadsword at my hip. 

  I note how he squints as he looks at me, an almost pitying feeling settling in my stomach. Near-sighted, perhaps. No wonder he is wary to come closer. 

  We stand in a nearly discourteous silence for moments, his face becoming distant before his expression sours. My eyes flicker to the blade at his side as I finally find my voice, calling out to him in a voice that I find too small. 

  “Hail, sir. You have found yourself on my lands. What business might I have with thyself?”

  That seems to rattle him out of his spacey stupor, drawing his attention back to me. He stands straight, clearing his throat roughly and pushing the dark, cropped hair from his forehead and brow. “Hail, lady. I have not come bearing trouble, and I hope you will pardon my trespass. I come bearing inquiry and offer alike.”

  “You are pardoned. What inquiry wears on your soul?” I call back, bunching my apron dress in my palms as I feign wiping my hands, as if to pretend he interrupted me in the middle of my housework. Really, though, it is only my nerves beckoning me to comfort myself with the familiar movement. 

  It seems to work on him, as an unintentional deception. Perhaps it is my wrapped hair, or lying movements, but he may receive me as the mistress. That helps my confidence, a bit, I admit. But I can’t help but still yearn for my father to return right this instant. 

  “My company and I require lodging,” He responds, his voice a bit more wary, now. The tongue he uses beckons me to believe he is of a more Southern persuasion. How odd. Usually, it is the Northerners going South, not the other way around. He might’ve been lying when he said he did not come bearing trouble.

  “...And you wish me to permit you some use of my land. Yes?” I comment, finishing his thought. I try to keep the salt off of my tongue, but I am not the most adept with handling guests. My father is no host, nor reveler, and I was not taught the fine art of hosting. I try to soften my tone, and pluck the thorns off of my voice.

  But I still feel an inkling of guilt as the traveller hesitates, pulling his stance in a bit. Defensive. Between his weaponry and dust coating him, I can come to believe he is a war-torn soldier. There was hostility in the South in recent months, was there not? But I was told that that ended weeks ago. My suspicion of him carrying trouble increases. 

  He glances to the grasses like a scolded child, an expression not befitting his stature. He folds his hands in front of him, breathing deeply before he responds. “Yes, lady. I was hoping to petition you. We are weary, and hungry, but we can swear not to be gluttonous, if you need. We will not take more than you offer. We would only be here for a handful of days- a fortnight, at most.” 

  “You would not stay in my home. You would stay in the woods, then? Or on the green around my home?”

  “If it is what the lady desires, then either will suffice.”

  War-torn, as I suspected. He craves only some place to stop for a spell. To get off of his feet. If he has petitioned my sympathy, then he has done well. He can not be much older than me, which only encourages my guilt. My age, and in battle. I cannot imagine. I fear he has won my favor. 

  I raise a hand, gesturing back out to the treeline. My other hand falls to my side, feigning self-assuredness. I doubt he can see my wariness, with how his eyes narrow when he watches me. I offer my words carefully, promising nothing. “I cannot permit anything. Return when the sun falls, with your party. You can discuss it with the master of this land, then. I advise you- tread gently, if you can be bothered to. My father is irritable in the company of strangers.”

  “Father?” The traveller questions directly after I am finished, and I watch his brow reach for the sky. It’s actually a bit satisfying…. Did he believe that I was the owner? If he has petitioned to flatter me, he has also succeeded in that. I listen to him continue with satisfaction easing through my veins. “Your father is the owner of these lands? You are not wed?”

  “Nay, sir. I am promised to no one. I am only a maid.”

  “But you are of age to wed, yes?”

  “Begone, traveller. I urge you to make yourself scarce. I will have no more flattery without a chaperone present.” I scoff, the small smile inching across my mouth finding its way into my voice bashfully.

  To my surprise, my new tone seems to ease his nerves, and I watch his shoulders unwind as he offers a timid smile back. He raises a hand as he shifts on his feet, meaning to leave. 

  “Then I will go, lady. Speak as well of us as you can to your father, I plead. We will cause no harm to you or yours. I will return with my company towards dusk. Be well.”

  “You be well, too, sir. May we meet again at the agreed-upon time.” 

  I watch the soldier depart, satisfied by the discussion. 

  Only….

  Drat.

  I forgot to ask for his name. 

-

  Consulting my father is a brief thing, done shortly as he returns from his fields. I mentioned how the petitioner seemed battle-weary, and my father merely hummed from where he walked in front of me, making a bee-line to the pitcher. I find myself feeling smaller as his broad-shouldered form stands silent, sipping the water thoughtfully. You could string a bow with the tightly-wound air between us. 

  Though, it appears the intensity was wholly one-sided, and my father turns his eyes upon me blandly, seeing how I clutch at the breast of my apron dress. I have never found my father to be easily influenced, but it seems his daughter may have some sway. I watch his mouth press into a thin line before he huffs, turning away. 

  “A band of young soldiers seeking shelter. To be anticipated, with the end of the battles in the South, as brief as they were. Will they work?”

  “I… did not ask.” I am sorry that I did not ask.

  “Then I will, when they arrive tonight. Make yourself busy, girl, and prepare some extra cakes.” He says off-handedly, pouring some of the water over his hands to wash away the dirt. 

  “Should I bring in some apples, too?” I question, heading to one of the sacks of flour I’ve settled in the corner of the kitchen. 

  “Only if you wish to impress. Is there one amongst them who might make me a fine son?”

  “Oh, Lord, Father. I don’t know.” 

  “Then keep a sharp eye, miting. Soldiers with no fight long for other conquests.”  

“Father!”

-

(Oh, just a little note, but Iida was the envoy. Just Bee-Tee-Double U.)

So... that's it for this chapter. Again, LMK if you wanna see more, and vote here for what pairing you wanna see

[kingbyx]

I need to write this so I don’t forget so that I can fic it later (lmk Drabble / fic prompt if anyone wants it) macaque angst, mild gore warning

Macaque failed in his task and the Lady is displeased. The thrall who calls himself a mayor requests his head, but his Lady thinks the shadow may still be of use. Still, he deserves a punishment, no? The Mayor asks to destroy something slightly smaller than a head, but no less amusing to ruin.

Perhaps it is the six eared warriors eyes that ruin his performance, the mayor says, afterall, losing an eye can quite affect one’s vision. He never did heal completely from that fight with his old love, did he?

The lady agrees. Why would a warrior named for his hearing need his sight anyways?

Go, she says, do as you wish. The mayor is eager to comply.

He rushes forward, claws of bone and ice ripping from his knuckles with a violent crack and the wet sound of flesh. He smiles.

Macaque does not struggle, chained and bruised and bloodied, has no leeway in his binds. He cannot struggle, and even if he could move he does not know if he would. His every muscle aches and his bones are weak and he is so, so tired. He cannot hope to count the wounds.

The claws rake across his eye and he screams. That is all he can do as blood runs warm and sticky down his face and fire rushes through his veins. He knows nothing but pain and it only gets worse.

The mayor removes his claws and considers taking the eye with them, but decides he likes the look of the bleeding wound too much to ruin it. It is beautiful.

Macaque feels his shadows, roused from their frozen terror at his pain, swarm his mind. They drag him down to rest and he does not fight it.