#lots of koa references

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: happy father's day

authors note: wanted to do something for father's day with our favorite not so little family. went a little overboard, cause i intended for the writing portion of this to be around 1k. don't ask.

the included graphics (the typos are intentional for the sake of realism) involve a lot of reading, but i think ya'll will appreciate them. at least, that's the hope.

happy father's day to all the dads' out here who actually deserve it.

lastly, there's a lil' line in one of the letters (it'll make sense once you reach that part) that will tie into sbto.

words: 3.5k 

warnings: none.

It’s chaotic, but in true Reign’s family fashion, it’s just to be expected. Not the morning, per se. No, that’s pretty simple. Roman wakes up alone in bed, unsurprised yet partially annoyed to find his wife not pressed up against him but the space next to him vacant.

An unacceptable thing.

It doesn’t take him much time to head to the bathroom, empty his bladder, complete his hygiene routine and head out the room. Moving through the halls of his massive house, the smallest smile on his face as he nears closer and closer to the kitchen. The sound of his kids, trying—mostly failing—to keep their voices down. The delicious, mouth watering aroma of whatever is being prepared, his favorites, most likely. And finally, the actual sight of it all.

Aroha is the first to lay her eyes on him from where she’s being held by Tama as he sets the table. But, instantly, she’s wiggling and itching to get down. “Daddy!” The loudest, happiest greeting as she runs towards him, Roman easily scooping her up as she holds him by his neck and kisses his cheek. “Happy Father’s Day!”

Shared sentiments from the rest of the kids who make their presence known. Lina and Leya from the kitchen where they help Solana finish up breakfast. Aria, as she steps away from the big banner that expresses the same happy wishes. Tama, as he finishes setting the table, making a smart ass comment that’s easily rebutted by Koa and Kai who walk in from taking out Coco and Max.

And finally, his stunning, amazing, perfect ass wife. That beautiful, bashful smile as she walks over, leaning up to kiss him on his cheek.

It’s the best kind of greeting.

Breakfast is just as chaotic as lunch. And dinner. And any time all of his kids are gathered in one setting, except there’s less requests for things the kids want and more obvious difficulty with keeping the day’s agenda a secret.

He could get one of them to break, most likely Aroha. Or, Aria, and he tries, but one pinch on his arm from his wife is all he needs to know that’s not the best idea.

Doesn’t stop him from trying again later in the day.

A day that has to be one of the calmest he’s had in so long, he can’t even remember a time where he could refer to any weekend as calm. No arguing between the Littles. No Aria popping up asking him the most random of things or talking for almost five minutes straight with little to no pause.

He’ll never understand just where in the hell she got her talkative personality from.

Not even his shadows—Lina and Tama—hovering around, either asking for something or just wanting to pick his brain/chat/or try to convince him to do something for their TikTok account.

Hell, even the fifty million pets that his kids all somehow finessed him into getting—or keeping—keep their distance.

It’s….peaceful. So much so that he even takes a nap. Something he’s certain he hasn’t done since his thirties. Maybe twenties.

And, it’s all do to the woman he honestly doesn’t know what he would do without. Solana manages it all, makes sure the kids give him some maybe needed space and alone time. Forces him to take that annoying, nasty ass tea that has him out within half an hour of consumption, thus allowing him to take said nap.

She handles everything, granting him some hours of relaxation before the madness.

And, there is madness. Such is the case when it comes to their kids.

Especially when it’s for an outing that requires the whole family. From Lina and Leya, all the way down to Roro. It’s the full family for what Roman realizes is dinner arrangements Solana made for him for Father’s Day. At Imàgo, the nicest Italian restaurant in the city. One of his favorites. Since Solana, Roman doesn’t have a specific favorite restaurant, and that would only change if his wife decided to open one of her own.

Not that he hasn’t mentioned it to her at one point or another over the years, and for a brief while, it was a loose idea, but it never materialized into anything more, mostly because of her already insane schedule, working PRN shifts for nursing, the foundation, and just all of their kids. Still, if it’s something she wants at some point, he’ll support it. He’ll support her. He’ll always support her.

“You like em’?”

Roman looks over from where he stands in front of the dresser, open velvet, black box in hand that reveals two black diamond tennis chains. Complimentary to the 44mm AP Skeleton Tourbillon Ceramic watch on his wrist.

Also a gift from his wife.

His wife who suddenly has Roman wanting to cancel anything she has planned that won’t let him stay in their bedroom and spend the rest of the night ravishing her. Solana’s dress is short and royal blue, long sleeves with her shoulders and upper arms exposed, along with a deep slit by the neckline that reveals her perfect ass breast. Silver red bottoms, large diamond teardrop earrings, and her massive pink diamond wedding ring are her only accessories. Her hair is pulled into a nice updo, and her makeup, though unnecessary, is just as bold and glamorous as she looks.

Good.

She looks good.

“Damn,” he breathes.

Her smile widens as she walks over, reaching for the box. “I’ll take that as a yes, though my outfit isn’t exactly what I was referring to.”

Roman is listening. Trying, at least. “Baby….” Her being so close to him also allows him a whiff of her perfume, sweet and gourmand. She always smells so damn good. Solana takes the box from him, laying it on the dresser, the turn of her body allowing him a brief glimpse at her ass that sits nice and round in said dress. His jaw clenches. “You sure you don’t wanna just stay in tonight?”

She gives him that look. “And do what exactly?”

You.

All night long. Till he physically can’t. And even then, what’s a little pain?

Solana shakes her head, motioning for him to bend down so she can place the necklaces on him. Roman straightens to his full height when she does as such, Solana’s palms on his chest. “Nice.”

He watches her gaze travels over him. In true Roman fashion, his outfits consists of mainly black. Dark dress pants, black dress shoes, a simple black shirt with a dark gray suit jacket.

Simple.

Solana leans in closer, Roman moving to tug her into him, hands resting on her ass. She makes a sound, batting her lashes. “Maybe we should st—”

“Okay.”

His quick and easy agreement makes her giggle. “Nice try, mi amor.” Solana lifts her hand to stroke his beard. “But, the kids are excited about going out with you tonight. It took a lot for them to keep it all a secret.” Hence why they should have just told him in the first place, but he digresses. “However, if you’re up to it, when we get back…”

He makes a sound, dipping his head to kiss along her jawline. “Baby, you know I’m always up for that with you.” He doesn’t even need to be looking at her to see the smile on her face as she moves her arms around his neck. “How you think we got all these damn kids now?” He squeezes her ass, prompting her to squeal and shove him away.

“Behave,” she warns, eyes narrowed playfully, wagging her finger.

“I’m not promising nothing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

The surprises continue for the Tribal Chief as he and his wife make their way out of room, some of the kids already downstairs, ready to go, a few others (Tama and Aria) the ones to keep everyone waiting. But, there’s something that comes over him when finally, the last two arrive down the steps, Aria saying something about “perfection taking time” and Tama popping the collar of his shirt.

That’s expected though. What’s unexpected is what Roman feels at seeing all of his children together, each wearing some shade of blue. His favorite color. Sure, Lina’s dress leaves little to the imagination. Leya’s does somewhat, too. But, seeing Aria and Aroha do “twirls” in their dresses. Koa and Kai, phones in hand, making snide comments about Tama still looking “washed.” It’s all so….wholesome.

And, it means a lot.

It really does.

The ride to the restaurant is, for the most part, fine. Lina drives Leya, Tama, and Aria, while the Littles ride with Roman and Solana. There’s a brief moment when they start arguing, but before he can even give them the, “when we get in this damn restaurant” speech, Solana is already on it.

Turned around in her seat, eyes narrowed just slightly, finger gesturing between the three, rapid words in Spanish leave her mouth, and though Roman has only learned a few words in Spanish since they’ve been together, he doesn’t have to be fluent to know she just instilled the fear of God in their three youngest. Especially when all she receives in response is quiet, synchronized “yes, ma’am.”

It puts a small smile on his face.

If only she would do that more often.

Imàgo is rented out. The only guests present the ones with the last name of Reigns and the security details assigned to said family. Three tables are used for the family of nine. The OG’s and Aria at one, the Littles at another, and Roman and Solana by themselves at the last. He’s a bit skeptical of that, primarily his youngest three being together in such close proximity, but it seems whatever the hell Solana said to them worked because they remain, for the most part, behaved.

All three tables are in their own worlds, sans Roman overhearing Lina make flirtatious comments to the waiter. A young punk probably in his early twenties.

Roman has him replaced with another waiter.

Aroha then confuses said new waitress with her requests for “chickey nuggies.”

“Chicken nuggets,” he clarifies, the young girl looking over at him with a mixture of clarity, confusion, and anxiety. “She likes chicken nuggets.”

“Umm, well, we don’t serve—”

“You do now.”

Aroha ends up with her nuggets, pleased and happier than ever.

Roman hasn’t a clue what Tama and the boys order, just knows there’s way too many plates, specifically in front of them. Same for Aria who always likes to order a damn near sampler of everything on the menu every time they go out.

“Daddy, I need options!” is her usual “explanation.”

“Damn kids acting like we been starving them,” Roman mutters as Solana steals a forkful of his Traditional scarpariello.

She chuckles, waiting until she’s done chewing before responding. “They like going out, baby.” She trades in her fork for a spoon to gather more of that nasty ass soup she ordered, taking a spoonful before adding, “besides, they’re paying for it anyway.”

Roman gives her a look. “What?”

She nods, using a napkin to blot her mouth. “They wanted to. Part of their gift to you.”

He reclines in his seat, partially taken back. “How can they even aff—” It’s the combination of Solana giving him that look along with him remembering who he’s talking about. “Never mind.”

Roro is too young, Aria spends money as soon as she gets it, Tama still probably owes his brothers, but the rest of them? Lina, especially Leya, Koa, and Kai? They most definitely have it.

Still, that doesn’t mean he wants his kids spending money on him. Roman makes a mental note to wire money back to their accounts tomorrow.

Solana is taking a sip of her champagne, gaze jumping from the other two tables back to her husband across from her when she sees him staring at her. She frowns. “What?” The frown deepens, Solana moving to pull her compact mirror out her Birkin. “I have something on my face, don’t—”

She’s stopped by the way he reaches over to take her hand in his, thumb brushing over her knuckles, before he lifts her hand to his mouth, placing the gentlest kiss. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Her smile is the equivalent of a million watts. “Thank you.” Roman notices the way her cheeks redden, an almost nervous shake of her head. “I almost didn’t wear this.”

His thick, bushy brows furrow. “Why?”

“I’m a mother, Roman. I’m in my forties now.” She shrugs, gesturing to said dress that has him thinking nothing even remotely appropriate considering the presence of all their kids. “It just feels a little weird to have my breast so exposed—”

“I don’t mind.” Not one bit. Not even a little.

She rolls her eyes. “Of course, you don’t.”

Curious, still holding her hand, thumb caressing her soft skin, he asks, “what made you wear it, then?”

Solana’s mouth curves into an amused smile. “The girls.” A quiet giggle, as she sighs. “Lina, specifically, said I should remind you just why there’s so many of them.”

Roman’s eyes rake over his wife’s curvaceous ass body, settling happily on her breast. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Not wrong at all.

It’s a nice, pleasant thing. Talking. Spending time together, even in the presence of his kids who occasionally require the attention of either parent. There is a brief issue though when arguing commences between The Littles. Over what, Roman doesn’t know nor does he really care to know.

It’s usually something stupid.

Aroha ends up sitting at the table with her parents, something that pleases her as she opts to sit in Roman’s lap versus the chair they’d pulled up for her.

It’s a bit inconsequential though as it occurs right before dessert arrives. A beautifully decorated sheet cake that reads Happy Father’s Day in blue icing, surrounded by the names of all his kids, and a customized cake topper. OTC in red and black.

Solana’s lips press against his bearded cheek, murmuring a quiet, heartfelt “happy father’s day, mi amor” as Tama cuts the cake, Aria pouting over how she wanted to do it, and Aroha standing on his lap, reaching for the first slice.

The cake was made by Solana and the kids, primarily Solana, Lina, Leya, Aria, and Roro. Roman is certain the extent his boys helped was using the piping bag to sign their names. It’s obvious with the distinct lettering of all the signatures.

However, surprises continue when the kids start sharing their gifts with him, starting with the drawing Aroha made of the family, Koa and Kai with big red X’s over their face. To the phenomenal sketch Leya drew, using one of his favorite photos of the two of them when she was Aroha’s age as the inspiration. Lina and Tama gift him with two pairs of custom Nike’s, the designs black and red, and blue and white. OTC stitched on the back. Koa and Kai give him a new iPad, again, OTC customized on the back, but even better, it’s already set up with the settings and everything the boys know their tech illiterate father knows and enjoys.

And lastly, Aria’s gift is a video montage she put together of home footage from Roman and the kids over the years. It’s similar to the one she curated for Roman and Solana’s anniversary that one year and appreciated just as much.

Loved just as much.

The night is finalized in the best sort of way.

Pictures.

Individual and group photos.

Roman takes photos with all of his kids individually and in group settings, whether it be him with the OG’s, him with the Littles, him with the girls, or him with his boys throwing up the one's. The final set are, naturally, with Solana. His favorite perhaps being the candid Leya captures of Solana holding onto him, head back, in mid laughter, a small, content smile on his face as he looks down at her.

And then, the entire family, those images captured by their young waitress.

Pictures that includes his youngest to his oldest and the woman that made it all happen for him.

Roman only feels strongly about a handful of things, most of those things revolving around his wife and family. And, tonight is no different. He’s not sure he’s ever felt as loved, or even as happy, as he does in that moment.

At that point.

Because it’s truly not until a few hours later, when they’re all home, the kids all in their rooms, either fast asleep or close to it, that Solana meets him in his office as she typically does the evening after Father’s Day or his birthdays. In hand, a variety of cards from herself and the kids, except this time, she doesn’t have card envelopes.

She has long rectangular envelopes.

Letters. She has letters.

Roman’s brows are furrowed as he accepts them, his wife leaning over to kiss his temple, as she quietly explains, “we did it a little different this year.”

"I see," he murmurs, shuffling through the envelopes, counting eight. One from each of the kids, including his wife.

Roman lays the letters down on the desk in front of him, pulling her into his lap. He lifts his hand to her face, palm on her cheek. "Thank you, Solana."

It's not unlike her to go above and beyond for things like his birthday and Father's Day. She's been like that since Lina and Leya were born. But, it's the fact that even after all this time, she still jumps through hoops, deals with the headaches that comes with arranging everything, managing all of their kids with their variety of personalities, to make it happen. To make these little days of celebration sprinkled throughout the year something memorable. Something special.

Solana tilts her head, leaning into his hand. "How many times do I have to tell you that you never have to thank me for loving you?" Solana shifts again, leaning forward, her forehead pressed against his, fingers against the thin cotton of his black undershirt. "That's one of my greatest gifts in life."

Second to only loving the kids. Of that, he's sure.

Despite it feeling virtually impossible, with every year that passes, Roman's love and appreciation for his wife continues to grow exponentially. Each selfless act of love and kindness fodder for an evergreen of emotions.

Of love.

It's what makes him even more appreciative that he ignored her wishes when she said she didn't feel like doing much for her birthday this year. Roman also knows his wife well enough to know that was simply a generic response and filter for the truth being that she didn't want to see him go out of his way to take time off work and find arrangements for the kids.

Too bad. He did all that already.

Solana will spend three days in Bora Bora for her birthday with her girlfriends. He'll fly and meet her there on the third night, from which he'll take her to the Maldives (she loved it the last time they went) where they'll spend the remaining four days together. Just the two of them.

It prevents their kids from being away from both parents for too long, something that hasn't ended up going very well the few times they've tried. Nothing terrible. Just a shit ton of phone calls, texts, and an endless amount of voice messages. Usually from the Littles. Roro claiming the boys are being mean to her, and the boys trying to convince their parents why she should be put up for adoption.

So, the usual.

Solana climbs up off his lap, stroking his beard. "Don't take too long." Her hands drop to her waist as she fiddles with the tie of her silk robe, tone suggestive, "mami still has to give papi his final gift." Fuck. "And, it's only a matter of time before one of the kids will be outside our door—"

"I hope they like the feel of the carpet outside it then, cause that's exactly where they'll be staying."

"Roman." She giggles, shaking her head. He wonders if she knows he's being serious. Solana leans over, a final kiss to the lips and a soft, “I love you,” before she walks out, heading back to their bedroom.

Roman can’t really remember when or how it started, but as far back as he can recall, this part of the day has always been reserved just for him. When he reads the cards from his family. He’s almost sure he never outright told Solana he prefers to read them alone. Just knows that she knows it’s his preference.

To have that space.

That space for vulnerability.

And there exists no greater word to define what Roman experiences reading each letter, starting with Aroha’s and ending with Solana’s, the combination of it all leaving the Tribal Chief quiet and full, eyes misty from the abundance of it all.

The love.

[mindboogling]

Here are four of my ideas for the "realistic Pokémon Team trend!"

I had a lot of fun talking to my partner about the Pokémon I would have! Then my little 9 y/o sister helped me pick out the names! Below is a more in-depth explanation of the names + choices.

Since I'm Hawaiian, I think it's only fair that most of my Pokémon are from Alola or are found in Alola!

(This is @pokeninjager-ghost-art's Zorua and my Rockruff. Fox and the Hound fr fr.) Ko`a (Rockruff) - At first I named him "Koa" which just means strong, warrior, or could be referring to the tree. Although, my sister said that I should add the okina (`) because then it could relate to coral and the fishing grounds that are made of stone + rocks. I agreed with her and named him Ko'a instead :] My family is a dog family, so I can see my family having Lycanroc and Rockruff pups as well as other dog Pokémon, but I definitely would have nabbed a Rockruff if I could!

Makani (Rowlett) - Makani is mostly known for meaning wind, but it can also mean ghost/spirit. It was fitting since Rowlett eventually evolves into a ghost-type. I also thought about the first two syllables, "maka," which means eyes in Hawaiian, and owls are known for their eyes (not to mention the evolved version is Decidueye!) Makani means wind, but it can also refer to gas including farts, so yeah, I'm going to nickname him that because that's hilarious. I have three Rowlett plushies, and he would be my starter. I picked him up at school or the professor's place.

Kapakahi (Mimikyu) - My little sister came in clutch for this name. Initially, I considered using "Kope" (copy) or "Kahi" (one, alone). Then I thought of "Kapa," which is a type of fabric. My little sister said I could call my Mimikyu "Kapakahi," which means 'crooked or messy,' and I loved it. She said there's a phonetic joke on saying 'kapakahi' like 'cup of coffee', which I also loved, so I added that. I would have found Mimikyu haunting the dressing rooms and prop room in my high school theatre. I cleaned her up, but I liked her messy look, so we kept the scrawled-on face and gave her a bow!

Lēʻahi (Sableye) - Lēʻahi literally translates to "The Brow of the Tuna", but it's also the name of the crater formation called "Diamond Head." He is my little Stitch, and I love him. I would have either found this gremlin at the graveyard that was right across from my house growing up, or caves like Kaneana (Makua) Cave!

[mythauragame]

Development Update - January 2025

Hi there everyone, welcome to the January development update for Mythaura! 2025 got off to a strong start: art and writing for the content needed for launch are already well underway and have been scoped out in detail for our team to measure ourselves against, and as you'll see below, Koa and Sark knocked out a TON of work that is making Mythaura into an immersive world that you will eventually be able to play within!

We've got a lot of ground to cover today. We've been keeping fairly quiet on in-universe lore and worldbuilding, but plan on sharing more content about it with you all over the course of 2025. Today's update will focus on the city of Talon's Rest, which is where the player will find themselves at the very beginning of their journey through Mythaura.

We're opening up our first Beast Creator Contest of 2025 as well! We'll be picking three winners, whose characters will be turned into a minor NPC in town. We also have the results from the Ko-fi Winter Quarter rewards voting, Mythauran astrology for the month of February, a beautiful new color for the color wheel, Quetzal expressions, and more!

Talon's Rest

Players will begin their journey in the burgeoning city of Talon's Rest, a garrison-turned-city built around a Cipher Pedestal. The Long War, which carried on ceaselessly for over a century, took almost as long to properly recover from. As formal trade routes began to follow the newly-built cross-continental roads, Talon's Rest found itself in a unique position: they were the biggest city in range of the Arena, a popular destination since Atticus commissioned its restoration at the end of the war. It has become the de facto stopping point for the crowds traveling to the Arena.

Talon's Rest has put the money toward the beautification of its city's public places and the sposorship of artists, scientists, and mathemeticians, but is still grappling with the growing pains associated with a social infrastructure that's not built to support this many people all at one time. Residents have mixed feelings about the influx of new businesses, the changing economy, and the cultural identity of Talon's Rest. Many are willing to air these grievances and sing these praises with whoever will listen to them.

Setting

Talon's Rest is situated at the edge of a north-facing cliff that overlooks both Lake Kali and the dense, dark expanse of the Waspwood. It is situated in an agriculturally rich fieldlands broadly referred to as Wind's End, as it is one of the nothernmost stretches of Griffin territory. The monolithic Arena crowns a dormant volcano off to the northeast.

It sits well above sea level, but not quite alpine. The region is located at the foot of a mountain range and enjoys snowpack melt that replenishes streams and the lake with clean, drinkable water. During the summer, it gets dry and the forests around the town can be prone to forest fires as a natural part of the forest lifecycle.

It experiences all four seasons, with warm, dry summers and cold, snowy winters.

History

Talon's Rest is, all things considered, a young city, built around the Pedestal situated at the highest point of the cliff. The first permanent building erected around the pedestal was a garrison used to house the troops of a prominent drift, who'd managed to secure access to the Pedestal and leverage their significant number of Cipher Bearers to ensure that the only Pedestal in the surrounding region stayed under their control. With the surrounding area primarily subsisting of farms with miles and miles between them, they faced little resistance and enjoyed control over the Pedestal for almost twenty years.

Atticus's campaign to unite all Griffin drifts under one banner (known as the Reformation) and regulate Cipher Pedestal usage saw one of its greatest victories take place at this garrison. Atticus, having wielded a powerful military of his own prior to being forced to act in this civil war, had amassed one of the largest single militaries ever organized in Griffin history. The Battle for Talon's Rest was brutal but decisive: the family that had manned the garrison for decades was rendered extinct, and the fort itself was aspirationally renamed as Talon's Rest. Historians consider this the final turning point for the War, where Atticus's success in uniting the Drifts was all but inevitable.

Economy

Talon's Rest was populated by Beasts who worked the farmlands surrounding it; agriculture has been the primary driver of the economy since the very beginning and still serves as the largest revenue stream for the city. Local farmers hybridized different kinds of wheat until they yielded a soft, sweet white crop--the chaff goes to their livestock and the grain is milled into flour to make one of their main exports. It's famed across the continent for its mild and slightly nutty flavor.

The city's position as a natural pausing point for those traveling to the Arena has meant that more taverns, inns, and other lodgings have cropped up. As it became known as a hub for the area, mercenaries and adventurers flocked to Talon's Rest find work, paying a fee in exchange for being able to audition themselves for work in town. There is never a shortage of Beasts showing up to the Recruiter's tavern, ensuring a steady selection of new Beasts for your adventuring roster.

A prevalence of copper mines in the area means that it is the most commonly used metal in architecture, art, and machinery. A rich blue-green pigment, created from ground-up copper patina, is another popular export. Artisans and masons often infuse this pigment into their work, which is why the facade of the highly-regarded medical university in the middle of the city was made using blue-green bricks with copper accents. This pigment fetches a fair price for regions without ready access to copper mines.

Arena Concept Art

Social Media Refresh

We've created a few new social media accounts, standardized the names across the different platforms, and will be posting content more regularly to each of these beyond just our monthly update! We can't think of a character better suited to be the face of Mythaura than Pollis (he/him), an elderly Quetzal merchant and one of the first NPCs you'll run into on your journey through Mythaura.

Next month we will be running a giveaway on Instagram. In the February update, we'll be doing a deeper dive into Wolfwasps, an enemy so powerful and pervasive that the forest around Talon's Rest is named after it: the Waspwood. We'll have some rather radiant items to give away to some lucky contestants. ✨🐺

All of our offical Mythaura social media can be found at the following:

Tumblr: mythauragame

Instagram: @mythauragame

Note: We also own @mythaura on IG, but we have been indefinitely locked out of the account and had to create a new one!

TikTok: @mythaura

BSKY: @mythaura

Twitter: @mythauragame

Facebook: /mythauragame

Sponsored Color: Flytrap

Courtesy of ShiningMoth we have a beautiful new color for the color wheel: Flytrap!

Flytrap is now active in the Beast Creator. We can't wait to see what you create with it!

Ko-fi Winter Quarter 2025 Winners

Thank you to all the Ko-fi sponsors who voted for the Winter Quarter 2025 rewards. Next month we will show the finalized artwork for the Ornaboros Companion and the Snow Drift Shire Unicorn Glamour. Stay tuned!

NPC Design Contest

As we begin to populate Talon's Rest, we'll need plenty of NPC designs—and that's where you come in!

We've created a Google Form for you to submit up to three Beast designs for consideration. Please be sure to include the Beast Creator code or else your entry will not be considered.

In addition to their design being used for a shopkeeper, winners will receive a bundle of useful items for their adventures through the local Wild Area, the Waspwood Forest.

The winners will receive*:

1x Soulshift Coin (breed-changing item) of your choice

1x Godspeed Potion

3x Lockpicks

3x Crude Torch

3x Travel Rations

3x Small Energy Potion

3x Small Health Potion

1x Beta Key

NOTE: * These rewards will not show up in your rewards lookup tool since that tool only looks up Ko-fi rewards, but they will be applied to your account directly!

Quetzal Expressions

Our art team continues to knock it out of the park with the Beast expressions project. They've completed all Specials/Supers/Mutations for both the young and adult Quetzal models.

Luci, Sour, Koa--you never fail to impress. Amazing job to the team!

Mythauran Astrology: February

The month of Frbruary is referred to as Aurora's Canvas, representing the resplendent and plentiful auroras that billow across northern skies. This month is also associated with the constellation of the Stargazer and the hematite stone.

Mythaura v0.34

Overworld Events: Added events like discovering chests, gathering berries, and more.

Fishing & Lockpicking Minigames: Now integrated into the overworld for interactive exploration.

Shops & Restocking System: Built a system to manage shop inventories and periodic restocking.

Elite Enemy System: Elite enemies are now marked on the minimap with new icons. They produce footsteps as they move and appear with a skull icon in battle.

Sealed Contracts: Added support for sealed contracts, which generate a random beast into your abode.

Contract Termination: Added support for contract termination, which deletes a beast from your abode in exchange for items & currency from a loot pool.

Recruitment System: Developed the prototype UI and logic for recruiting G1 beasts into your abode.

Beast Titles: Introduced titles to differentiate and enhance beasts.

Species Movement Overhaul:

Winged beasts can double jump.

Non-winged beasts move faster.

Beast Profiles & Editing: Progress made on profile management, beast dossiers, and customization options.

Map Travel Support: Added the ability to travel between maps (e.g., entering a building and appearing in its interior).

Stair/Ramp Support: Overworld now supports elevation changes like stairs and ramps.

Wall/Interior Support: Built a working prototype for handling interior building walls.

Temporary Loot System: Loot from events (e.g., chests) can now be stored temporarily before claiming.

NPC Battle AI: NPCs can now participate in battles and make action decisions.

Redesigned Battle UI: Improved the battle action selection interface for clarity and usability.

Image Processing Optimization: Refactored how beast images are generated, significantly boosting performance.

Fixed Frame Rate Bugs: Resolved animation consistency issues where player movement was faster at higher frame rates.

Profanity Filter: Added to maintain a safe and friendly community environment.

Loot Collection: Temporary loot from overworld events (like chests) can now be stored and claimed later.

Various Bug Fixes & Cleanup: Addressed numerous bugs and optimized multiple systems for smoother gameplay.

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord.

[drdemonprince]

I read your newsletter about "transmisandry" today. I'm a trans man and I generally agree with what you said. However, I was wondering how you would classify a particular experience of mine and other trans men I know irl or have seen online.

In short, I find that in some queer spaces, masculine and/or "binary" (meaning, not non-binary) trans men are treated as outsiders and enemies. I imagine some straight-passing queer cis men experience similar.

This prejudice against masculinity has nothing to do with us being trans, and is in no way oppressive, but it seems to me that some people have a hatred/disgust/discomfort/etc. with masculine men, especially if we are proud of our manhood. I sometimes feel excluded in queer or progressive spaces, and like I have to change myself to fit into others' idea of "acceptable" manhood.

I think this tends to emotionally affect trans men in particular because being a man is generally hard-won and joyful for us. Have you experienced prejudice in queer spaces, especially trans spaces, for being transmasculine? And while I don't believe there exists systemic misandry, is this not a form of misandry, just interpersonal?

Thanks, I really appreciate your work.

Hi there, thank you for great question. What you are describing is certainly a very real and troubling dynamic within both queer and feminist spaces, and it's put me off for a very long time. I have sometimes referred to this as "playful 'misandry' feminism", always with "misandry" in quotes because, as we've already established, it's not a real locus of systemic oppression. I have also sometimes in the past likened it to "Men's Tears Coffee Mug" feminism in its performative, self-congratulatory, typically white feminist stance.*

*in the Koa Beck sense of the term. Someone who is not white can be a white feminist.

I was always put off by performative man-hating jokes and the exclusion of men within feminist spaces because, well, I was one, and because it nearly always played out in transmisogynistic ways that were transparent to me, and because I was a major ride-or-die for men who were victims of sexual violence yet were frequently excluded from survivors' spaces (again, because I was one, even before I realized that I was).

There are a lot of troubling effects that happen when feminist women make a big performance out of finding all men to be disgusting and evil and frequently express disinterest in men's feelings or suffering (which used to be way more common in my estimation, around the early 2010's or so it seemed to peak). I was driven away from feminist spaces as a young closeted trans man because I could see such spaces were not for me or for any of the other men that I cared about and needed support. On the inverse side of things, I have spoken to many trans men who said that "playful "misandry"" feminism actively made it harder for them to realize that they were guys. Men were seen as the enemy and inherently evil and destructive and so they felt absolutely disgusting about the possibility of being a man, or feared transitioning would get them seen as a betrayer of the feminist movement.

As you rightly note, it is not just trans guys who get excluded by such dynamics. Cis men who are genuinely avowed feminists can be driven away by such forces, which is especially upsetting in the case of sexual assault survivors and queer men. Trans women and TMA enbies are excluded from feminist and women's spaces because they supposedly "look like" men to these types, and their own feelings of superficial safety rank above the actual data on who is the most at risk structurally (which is trans women). Butches are regarded in some spaces as too aggressive or unacceptably masculine because of it. And people's analysis of gender oppression just overall sucks when they buy into "playful misandry" style feminism because they go around saying shit like "femme people are oppressed by masc folks." what the hell does that mean. Does a cis, gender conforming feminine woman have less structural power than a butch lesbian? I don't think so.

It seems to me that the big problem here is that "playful misandry" feminism is rooted in a deep deep misunderstanding of the structural nature of oppression. Sexism isn't caused by patriarchy and capitalism, it's caused by "men" and so hating men and excluding them is what will fix things. Men as individuals are responsible for sexism and so women should be as detached from them and unsupportive of them as possible. This logic leads to a TERFy place really quickly, and yes, it also really really damages trans men.

My opinion is that it's best to critique this problem as the political failure that it is: a misunderstanding of sexism as individualistic rather than systemic. That's the core issue from which all the problems flow -- from rampant transmisogyny to the exclusion of cis male sexual assault survivors to the feelings of alienation of trans men. Yes sometimes naming the performative nature of "man hating" jokes and the like is helpful because people recognize instantly what that dynamic is when they hear it. But the "misandry" itself is not the core problem -- it's the shitty gender politics and white feminism.

Does that make sense? To be clear, I think it's something trans men get to talk about. I talk about it from my positionality quite a lot really. I don't think "misandry" is ultimately the helpful or clarifying way to name it, but I will sometimes throw around that term with a TON of qualifiers if I'm discussing the specific interpersonal dynamic of women saying that men are evil rapists innately or whatever. But really discussing the broader gender politics failure that leads to those little shitty comments and looks is almost always more helpful. If trans guys and cis guys are feeling excluded from a space due to these dynamics it's almost always the case that trans women, TMA enbies, butch women, and lots of women of color are too.

[korkiekenobiconfirmed]

I'm on a roll with the s/j/m hatred tn so I'm going to compile a masterlist of all her shitty lgbt/poc representation and why it sucks booty cheeks. it should be noted that none of this is meant as shade on any of the characters themselves... I actually happen to like quite a lot of them

EDIT: there are some nice additions to this post in the notes you can check out

LGBT rep

Aedion (Bi/Pan)

Literally known as “Adarlan’s Whore” (a nickname that references both his allegiance to the king and his tendency to sleep around)

His only same-sex relationship is with a vaguely-mentioned unnamed lover from the past (it’s not even said straight-up that they’re a man, but I’m assuming they are bc they’re mentioned to be a commander of the Bane)

He’s shown being attracted to women and only women for two and a half books. He’s a womanizer retconned into the slutty bisexual stereotype

His liking men & women is compared to prostitution

It’s insinuated in koa that he slept with an ex while he and Lysandra were fighting (because the cheating bisexual trope is such a new & creative one!)

Helion (Bi/Pan)

He’s always trying to have 4somes with three of the main characters

Realistically he’s probably one of the most powerful/interesting High Lords but this gets sidelined in favor of him flirting with eVeRyOnE

All we really know about him is his name and the fact that he’s a bit of a manwhore… very 2-dimensional

He has an affair & a child with a married woman… just the Slutty/Cheating Bisexual Trope (Volume 2) :/

Mor (Lesbian? Possibly bi?)

She’s never shown in any real relationships (with men or women)

She had tragic off-screen relationship with a mortal queen a few hundred years ago

We get literally no hints that she’s gay throughout the series, she just randomly mentions she likes women at the end of book 3

She gets no happy relationship, she stays closeted to spare Az’s feelings (as though he’s not a grown ass man), she’s retconned into her sexuality most of the way through the series… just shitty shitty rep all around

Hasar (Lesbian)

She’s a villain, and a shitty one at that

Lesbian rep from a side character in one novella that half the fandom didn’t read? What’s even the point?

Thesan (Gay)

A very minor character & his unnamed “lover” who serve no narrative purpose whatsoever… thanks for nothing sarah

Emrys & Malachai (Presumably gay)

Oh look! More minor, background mlm that might as well not exist for all they do for the story :/

They are cute though, I’ll give them that

POC rep

Nehemia

First (and only) black main in ToG

She dies to fuel the white protag’s character arc… a very tired trope

She was actually a pretty well-written, likable character up until her brutal murder, which made it that much worse to hear about her organs strewn all over the room

Sorscha 

Described as “plain” (particularly in contrast to the white women like Aelin & Lysandra)

We know she’s POC because of where she’s from, but the way her features are described suggest she could still be white

Dark hair, gold eyes, “tan” skin

She really just fawns over white-boy Dorian every 2 seconds before dying a violent death to fuel Dorian’s arc…

…Aaaand I’m sensing a pattern here

Nesryn

Much of her character (especially in QoS) is reduced to her beefing with Aelin (and thus being villanized by the narrative) because of jealousy over Chaol 

Simply described as having “tan” skin (again). I think sarah is allergic to calling people brown

She is also described as plain compared to white protagonist

She has a (presumably middle eastern) family that only wants her to stay home and be a baker/someone’s wife

Yrene 

Once again very racially ambiguous to the point where she could even be white, with “tan/golden” skin, golden hair, and golden eyes

She almost immediately ties her literal life force to a white man she hated like a month ago. Seriously, can WOC not fawn over a hunky white man for once?

She defeats erawan in the end — considering she’s been a character for such a short time, this just feels more like a deus ex machina the anything really set up by the plot

Helion 

Not going to fully rehash what I said above but generally… he has great potential, but is basically not a character

Tarquin 

He’s portrayed as very nice and reasonable, if young and naive, yet he literally only exists to get manipulated/robbed by the main characters

He seems like such a sweetheart. He deserved much better than Riceman and Feyrug doing him dirty like that

I’ve heard rumors of a High King/Queen F*ysand plotline in later books…if that happens, Tarquin will likely be bending the knee and forgiving the people who fucked him over just a short time ago

Lucien

He’s described as very caring and loyal (yay!) which seems to always get him taken advantage of (damn!)

He’s portrayed (especially in ACOWAR) as someone we’re supposed to dislike when all his actions are perfectly reasonable

He’s literally retconned out of being white when it’s revealed Helion is his father instead of Beron. I’ve seen ppl get mad at “white-washed” fan art but it’s hard to expect much else when his original character description was straight red hair, amber eyes,  and “tan” skin (holy shit agAIN)

The people of the White Fangs from TOG

They’re described as having black hair, black eyes, and “tan” skin

They live isolated in the mountains (away from civilization) and are described as “savage” and warlike, always raiding villages in the mountains and stealing women away from their homes… 

Cain, who’s from these people, dabbles in dark magic/religion nobody else understands

This is feeling, intentional or not, like a horrible Native American caricature. Idk maybe that’s just me

[jennithedragon]

Nine People I Wish I Knew Better

Thank you so much for tagging me @assassiowl -- it means a lot. ;w; Previous!

Favourite colour: Green! Specifically: Medium sea green. It's kinda funny because people see my 'sonas and assume it's orange because of their body colours – but no! It's in my characters' eyes, you see!

Currently reading: I really need to get back into reading published books, honestly. I've been living off of tons of fan fiction for many, many years and I definitely need to broaden my horizons. The last thing I had started reading was Orwell's Animal Farm, but I left the library after finishing the first chapter to take a break and just haven't gone back to read more. Yes, I was reading inside the library, itself. Yes, I know I can check out books. I just found it nice to sit in the building and read there instead of putting up with my home environment.

Last song: Beep Block Skyway (With Beeps) – Super Mario 3D World music EXTENDED!!! It's hardcore stuck in my head and will not leave until I've listened to it for at least 24 hours total. I blame the MLP fandom and the fan parodies.

I mean, it was that song when I typed this up a few hours ago, but this song was apparently released on Ponies At Dawn's YouTube channel earlier: Faulty - Queen of The Crowd (feat. Koa) [Jensen Stiles Remix] (genre: progressive trance) and it's pretty good.

Last Film: I recently watched Disney's A Goofy Movie with some contacts. I had never seen the full thing uninterrupted, only parts whenever it was showing on TV. I sorely miss 2D animated films.

Last Series: Like, TV shows? That's a rough one for me. I normally don't watch a whole lot of plain ole TV. I was following some nifty web series (Helluva Boss, Monkey Wrench, The Amazing Digital Circus), but I haven't seen much from them lately. (Oop! Apparently I missed Ep.4 of Monkey Wrench! Resolved now!) I've also been eating up seeing Mapocolops play The Legend of Zelda series, but I'm not sure if Let's Plays count for this prompt.

Sweet//Salty//Savory: Send me into the salt mines. It's been a problem ever since I was a kid, lol. Discovered ramen noodles in late high school and never looked back. I know it isn't exactly healthy, but my taste buds yearn for the sodium.

Tea or Coffee: Neither. If I absolutely must choose one of these two options: tea. But I much prefer milk (2%) or juices as a flavoured drink (cranberry juice, my beloved.)

Working on: Too many things!! Send help! Illustrations: I've been working on updating both of my reference sheets (quadruped and humanoid) for my fursona since like... uh... at least 2022. Updating my reference sheet for my ponysona. Making a reference sheet for my first funny four-eyed 'fibian OC. Second one's concept needs to be more solidified. Doodling some fic fanart. I also have some backlogged fanart ideas for Gaia Online. And planning on drawing fanart for a streamer I found recently. Uh. Fanart. Fanart. More fanart.

Writing: I have some prompts I would like to try to fill as practice and to shake off the extreme rust. The last time I tried to properly write something was for a Graphic Design course in college uh… more than a decade ago, I think... I have a bit of personal baggage behind why I'm scared to try to write even though I enjoy answering fun prompts like this and want to write fics because others inspire me.

Extra info: pony should pony pony 🐎 Real OGs remember Nintendo's NSider Forums.

Tagging: @insert-image-here, @wishfuldorian, @feldsparred-mo-reblogs, @jumpingwjoy, @tippertot, @2isted-chocol8, @ponyartistbrainiac, @fcloudg, @jadewolf-writes Feel free to ignore this ping if any of you do not wish to participate! Just thought y'all were cool, so consider this a shout-out at the very least! 💖

[elphilim]

>> Hehe, I'm planing a little fun thing to do with you guys!

I've been wanting to do this for such a long time, but it never really worked out before cause contact to the people I was writing with always ended before that. But I think this time it really could work out!

Attention long post!

Sooo I think we all are familiar with the concept of Mains and Affiliates, a concept I personally never had been a fan of cause this quickly leads to favoring and prioritizing certain people while ignoring others almost altogether.

But I still want to honor those who stick around and who are in regular contact with me (and don't ignore me after like 2-3 messages, always wait for me to come along with ideas or to make the first step to get something going etc.) So like kinda those who actually make some effort to also send stuff my way, write starters for me for a change and don't wait for me to do all the work etc. etc. etc.

And here's my idea: I'll be adding a Page of Honor... or Walk of Fame or something like that on my Website (I'm still thinking of a name what I'll be calling it..) On this pages I'll be adding your character (or characters if you have more and I have written with them) with a little overview, profile and I'll be adding all the threads we had together. All of this means your character will be canon in my Ocs story and I'll be refering to you, your character and our threads etc. on occasions.

I'll be also reblogging your promos and such (something I stopped doing for reasons I won't elaborate now)

AND there's more!

Idk if this is a thing in other countries, but here where I live there's this big thing called Friendship Book. It's kinda a book you give to your friends where they can write in like their names, what they like and overall facts about them etc.

I'll be doing such a "book" too or more like I'll be doing the pages, that I'll be sending your way for you to fill out and send back to me, so I can add it on my Website to your page. Or more like, Koa will give this to your character, for your character to fill out (So please don't think I'll ask you to put your real name and picture etc. there. Cause no, that's not my intention)

So yeah that's the plan I had and I really hope that this is going to work out as I imagined! Cause as I imagine it, it will be a lot of fun. Especially to have a place where everything between our characters will be collected where we can always look them up in case we have forgotten something. And not only what we write in threads but also what we come up with during ooc talk, like headcanons, facts, scenarios and all of what we talked about but haven't added to a thread yet etc.

[the-firebird69]

Including link:

"In Hawaiian, "lopa" has multiple meanings. It can refer to a tenant farmer or a land section, specifically in Ewa, Oahu. It also refers to a placename, a gulch and surfing area on Lana'i. Additionally, "lopa" can be a baby name meaning "wife of a sage" or "weaver". "

Hawaiian Dictionary (1986) (Hawaiian)]. makoa. 1. vs. Fearless, courageous, aggressive. Cf. koa, brave. hoʻo.makoa To act bravely. 2. Similar to mākonā.

It seems to me a young brave warrior yeah and one who pays rent to do farming and that's what they say about us and it really fits

Thor Freya

We're giving that kick in the pants and they are going after it yeah

Frank Castle hardcastle

How can we resist it's all right there

Trump

Yeah it's kind of hard to

Bua

We planted this way we did played it this way yes

Cane

Yeah we did

Mac Daddy

Well there's a lot of admissions and they don't seem to be doing much

Olympus

We are getting on it now

Duke Duke of Blockbuster and Duke nukem is my name in it isn't phosphate it's actually magnesium and it's what they make devices out of and they want to ship these around and mulch them because he gets around on it and that's what it's like

[yourgoldennotebook]

In this final installment of our "Kids Who Play" series, we introduce a savvy 14-year-old from Pennsylvania who's making the kind of waves in Nashville that LeAnn Rimes and Tanya Tucker did at a similarly tender age, and a 15-year-old Southern California guitarist who's already discovering the joys of DIY.

The Kids Are Alright by Andy Robinson (June, 2004)

Taylor Swift lovingly refers to her koa Taylor 12-string as her "baby." She also owns a Custom 612ce. Obviously, these two high-end guitars represent a serious investment in gear for a 14-year-old. But then, Swift, and those around her, have every reason to take her musical talent seriously.

Recently, Taylor's family relocated to Nashville to concentrate on her blossoming career; she is signed to a "development" deal with RCA Records, and is managed by Dan Dymtrow, Britney Spears' manager. By the time you read this, you might already have seen Swift posing with her cherished K65ce in the August issue of Vanity Fair magazine; Dymtrow arranged for her to be one of 27 young, up-and-coming celebrity models photographed by Bruce Weber for the new "Rising Stars" Abercrombie and Fitch ad campaign. Her image will also appear in Abercrombie's new catalog.

Swift was born in Wyomissing, Pennsylvania, and grew up listening to Patsy Cline, LeAnn Rimes, and Dolly Parton. At age eight, she joined a children's theater group and subsequently got the lead role of Sandy in Grease. Her country-influenced rendition of "Hopelessly Devoted to You" caused a stir, and she never looked back.

Taylor went on to sing at fairs and festivals, and by age 12 she was the opening act on a bill that included Diamond Rio, Trace Adkins, Tammy Cochran, and Darryl Worley. Since then, she has opened for the Charlie Daniels Band, and has sung the National Anthem at numerous sporting events, including Philadelphia 76ers basketball games and the 2003 U.S. Open.

The latter engagement led to her most important career connection to date.

"While I was singing the National Anthem, the entertainment director for the U.S. Open started asking my dad about me," she says. "Afterward, my dad put together this typical 'dad video' type of thing — with the cat chewing the neck of my Taylor, and stuff like that — and sent it to her, not knowing that she was going to send it to Dan Dymtrow.

"Dan called and asked us to come down and play for him in his office, so I brought my first 12-string down and played some songs for them. Dan said 'I want to work with you guys,' and it's been great ever since! I love Dan — he is an awesome manager."

Swift had tried to learn guitar at age eight, but the timing and the approach didn't work.

"I was being taught by the note, every note on the scale, and I just wasn't interested in that. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to be a singer at that point, you know? I mean, you're eight years old!" she says, laughing. A few years later, she again tried taking lessons, and this time the teenage Swift found the experience much different.

"By the second week, I'd learned three chords and I'd written my first song," she recalls. "Now I'm working on fingerpicking and music theory."

Although Swift's parents don't play any instruments, her maternal grandmother was an opera singer, so there's a hereditary precedent for Taylor's vocal ability.

"My grandparents lived all over the world. In Puerto Rico, my grandmother was the hostess of the top-rated TV variety show, called The Pan-American Show. Nanny's Spanish was so bad that the Puerto Ricans thought she was hysterically funny! She went on to become the 'Madrina' [symbolic grandmother figure] of their Air Force; they really loved her. She starred in a lot of operas and was a member of the Houston Grand Opera. I think that's where I got most of my musical ability."

Swift's nascent songwriting skills also seem to have genetic roots. She sees a natural link between her lyric-writing and the fact that people in her family write poems.

"Songwriting talent is something you're born with," she says. "You have to nurture it, and you have to work with it, and you definitely have a say in which direction you go with it, but I think you're born with any kind of writing ability, which no one can take away from you. And I don't think you can teach someone to write if they don't have a sense of how to do it."

Lately, Taylor has been putting her budding talent to the test by co-writing songs with veteran tunesmiths in Nashville. She's already done some co-writes with last year's BMI Songwriter of the Year, Troy Verges, whose credits include "Blessed" (for Martina McBride), "I Would've Loved You Anyway" (Trisha Yearwood), "Sleep Tonight" (Tim McGraw), "Windows on a Train" (Jessica Andrews), and "Naked" (Celine Dion). She's also written with Brett James, who wrote "Love is a Sweet Thing" for Faith Hill" and "Tryin'" for Pam Tillis.

"I can't wait to write with a lot more people," Swift says. "I definitely think I have my own style, and I'd like to stay true to that, but on the other hand, you never stop learning. I'm never going to say I'm the 'best' at anything, because that's just stupid. You're always going to keep learning, and at no point will I know everything. I figure, if you surround yourself with people who are better than you, it can only bring you up."

If some aspects of Swift's creativity were inherited, the decision to play guitar seems all her own.

"I just thought the guitar looked really cool!" she says. "it also had to do with the types of music I liked — country and rock. I had tried to play piano, and I think you're either a piano person, where you have finger coordination and you can go all over the keyboard, or a guitar person, where you're using the muscles of your fingers to push down strings and play chords. Both are very hard to learn, and some people can do both, but I can't!"

Swift says she's been desperately trying to learn to play some songs on piano, but she keeps coming back to guitar.

"I guess guitar is really what I was meant to play, because it seems to be what I have a knack for. I actually learned on a 12-string, so when I picked up my first 6-string, I was, like, whoa, this is easy! I think when I got over the first little bumps of learning how to play guitar, it really paid off, because from then on it was easy. When I started learning to fingerpick and stuff like that, I started to play my 612ce more. But the 12-string will always be my favorite, 'cause it's the first guitar I played."

Swift admits that she might want to try the electric guitar someday, but only after she's become more adept at playing solos and classical music on acoustic guitar. There's also something organic about an acoustic that she finds hard to resist.

"I can't get over the sound that acoustic guitars put out — I just love it. And nothing comes between me and my Taylor 12-string! It makes a definite impression when I pull that beautiful koa guitar out of the case. And, of course, the [Taylor] name correlation works well, too!"

Things are clicking for Swift. Her song, "The Outside", has been slated for the Chicks with Attitude CD being sponsored by Maybelline New York, which is part of the "Chicks with Attitude" tour featuring Liz Phair, Katy Rose, the Cardigans, and others. The CD is scheduled to come out in August. Swift's immediate goals are at once modest and ambitious.

"I hope to be one of the 'others'!"

[trippinsorrows]

How did Dreamland come to be? Did you always plan to write these stories on the side to later attach them to the main story? <3

hi, friend! 🥰 so, dreamland 100% happened organically. it really started with the dream sequences in og ltye. people instantly fell in love with the twins and the idea of roso having children someday. i would get a lot of asks essentially about if they would have kids/could the twins be the kids they have one day/etc.

obviously, to protect the plot, i had to electric slide my way around answering that, but then i started getting more "what if" sort of questions. i would always refer to them as the "dream" kids and naturally started using the word "dreamland" because it really was just a land of dreams at some point lmao

i always knew roso would have kids, as that's what i plotted. but, in my mind, they only had lina, leya, and then tama, then one more set of twins (as seen in the dream sequences), but that was it. then the more we talked about it, the more i was like...what if they had more though? so, i believe, "the announcement" was the first thing i wrote for dreamland. i came up with koa, kai, and aroha, as well as the unborn baby solana was pregnant with. and, from there, i loved and knew i could see that family being canon. it makes sense. them having a big, happy family after going through everything they went through just made sense to me.

but, i couldn't confirm dreamland was canon, because it would have spoiled way too much as i think i was barely halfway done with og ltye. so, then i just kept it to myself as we continued to work together and build/expand this "au" world that, surprise surprise, is actually canon. 🥰

[casspurrjoybell-28]

The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 35 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Space - Kao

Nothing feels real, nothing at all, certainly not Des sitting across Cyrus and I next to Juliet as we're served lunch in the gardens.

I can't stop staring at him. It's him. I'd know that face anywhere but he's taller now, broader.

Baby fat has long been traded for sharp edges and muscles.

He looks so different, yet exactly the same, the boy that I grew up with, the one I ran with through the fields as a pup, the one that held me on cold, sleepless nights.

The first love that I stole kisses with whenever we thought no one was looking.

My brain, my wolf, can't fathom it, that this man is here in front of me, alive.

Mourning him was the one of the most painful things I've ever gone through.

My heart felt like there was a hole left in it when suddenly wasn't by my side anymore, a hole that only began to close up when I met Cyrus.

Now the wound feels fresh again, that painful twinge of loss and sorrow, regret over what could've been.

He'd been alive, all this damn time, living as a rogue or whatever he'd been up to the past nine years, he'd been fucking alive.

"So you two knew each other?" Juliet asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that sat between the four of us.

"Uh, yes," Des glances at me in uncertainty.

"We were childhood sweethearts."

Besides me, Cyrus growls lowly in his chest, his grip on my thigh beneath the table tightening.

None of us miss the death stare he's giving Des across the plates of food.

"Oh, calm down, boy," Juliet tuts.

"They were kids. I think it's rather cute."

"It was really cute," I agree, fixing my glare on Des.

"Until I was made to believe you died."

He bites his lip, what looks like anguish in his eyes as the words hit him.

"Koa, there are things you don't know..."

"Care to enlighten me, then? I've been mourning you this entire time, only to find out that... that you left me in that godforsaken place, Des."

"I'd rather not go over it here. Can we speak later? Alone?"

"Like hell I'm letting that happen," Cyrus interjects through gritted teeth.

"You don't even breathe the same air as my mate if I'm not present."

Juliet's jaw drops.

"Cyrus."

Des's gaze flicks between the two of us.

"So you found your mate, then. Funny. I'd always been so sure it would be me."

Cyrus snarls.

"Well it isn't."

I abruptly stand up from my place, sending my chair skittering back.

"I think I've lost my appetite, Juliet. I'm sorry."

"Koa..." Cyrus and Des start but I shake my head.

"I need space. From both of you."

*********

I pick up Oliver alone, instead of with Cyrus, as planned.

Unsurprisingly, my little boy is disappointed.

"He promised we'd play today, Mama."

"I know, baby. I apologize. There's a lot going on right now."

"Like what?" he pushes.

"Just... do you remember when I'd talk about Des?"

He scrunches his brows.

"My fake dad? Your friend that died?"

"Yes," my lips form a tight line as I sigh.

"But he's not dead. He ran away."

Oliver frowns.

"Why would he go without you?"

"That's the thing," I look off into the sunset wistfully.

"Why?"

"Is he here?"

I nod as we continue to walk, hand in hand.

"They found him living as a rogue."

"Make him explain, Mama and if he left you on purpose... I'll teach him a lesson," he grinds one of his fists menacingly into his other palm.

"Oli," I shake my head, not able to keep back a chuckle.

"Remember how I raised you? Don't get all violent like the other Alphas."

"Then what about the other time? Do you think I'm... I'm bad for what I did?"

I go quiet, knowing what he's referring to.

How he killed that Alpha that chased after us from the Blood Pack, the one that had me pinned to a tree.

"Of course not. You're a good boy. You always have been," I pat his head, ruffling his curls.

He stops walking, suddenly burying his face in my stomach and squeezing me tightly.

"I love you, Mama."

"Oh, I love you too. So, so much," I kneel down, kissing both of his cheeks.

"I don't want you to worry that I think you're bad. I'm your mother. I am always going to be here for you. On your side," I reassure him, rubbing his back in comfort.

"No one's gonna steal you away, right?" he asks, lips trembling.

I shake my head.

"Never ever."

"B-but what if you have another baby with Cyrus?"

Oliver tears up.

"Cyrus will like it better cuz it's his pup and you'll both forget about me."

He's crying heavily now, soaking my shirt with salt and snot.

"Oli. How can you say that? Even if I had another pup..."

'Which would be impossible anyway due to my infertility.'

"That wouldn't lessen my love or affection for you whatsoever and Cyrus adores you. He wouldn't spend all the time he does with you if he didn't."

He blinks away the wetness on his golden lashes, bottom lip puffed out.

"Really?"

I kiss his nose.

"Yes, really."

He wraps his arms around my neck and I take the signal to pick him up.

It's a strain on my muscles because he's growing like a weed but I pull through.

He doses on my shoulder.

"Even though what you said, mama... I still wish Cyrus was my real daddy."

'He could be,' my wolf suggests the thought and it sends an ache through my heart.

Not biologically, of course but if Cyrus would claim Oliver as his own... that remains to be seen.

Just because he cares for us, doesn't mean that the past... Oliver's origins.... can be erased like it never happened and my past, the one that my mate knows nothing of.

Nausea overcomes me at the thought of him ever knowing.

He can't.

'He can't.'

[mythauragame]

Development Update - May 2024

Hi folks, Miyazaki here with our development updates for the month of May. Our backend development continues to plug along incredibly well: Koa and Sark introduced several new key functionalities, including the implementation of our New Game+ system (and all the mechanics that entails), leveling algorithms, and skill trees that will allow you to choose the moves that your beasts bring with them into battle.

We've also got the results of the Winter 2024 Ko-fi rewards, the June astrology overview, the announcement of our second ever Custom Color Contest, and more. Read on to find out more!

(I also realize I didn't actually post our April development update here...please find it in this post if you'd like to read!)

New Special: Banding

Bold stripes and flecks mark the hide of Beasts sporting our newest Special, Banding. We'd love to see what creations you come up with in our Beast Creator, and look forward to sharing something Banding-related in a near-future update...

Tongue Color Update & Unicorn Expressions

Some of you may have noticed a change to the Basilisks in the Beast Creator—their tongues now have blue tongues with a gradient, like some real-life skinks and snakes.

There are certain colors on the color wheel that will impact the mouth and tongue color of all Beasts. This was driven by us creating lots (and lots...and lots and lots) of different Beasts as we test various backend elements and realizing that some colors didn't look quite right with normal mouth coloration.

This is demonstrated below on the young Unicorn, whose base color is Patina. We're excited to be able to show you all the finished Unicorn expressions—huge shoutout to Luci, Kymara, and Koa for knocking all of these out. Expressions are a huge undertaking for the team, but we really feel like the end result when playing the game will absolutely make all the work worth it. (:

Spring 2024 Rewards Reveal

Our Spring 2024 rewards have been completed and are ready for their public debut! Thank you to the Ko-fi Sponsors who voted on the different Glamour and Companion concepts, we appreciate your support and feedback.

Spring 2024 Glamour: Chinoiserie

Spring 2024 Companion: Gossamer Campanula

Spring 2024 Solid Gold Glamour: Young Unicorn

Mythauran Astrology: June

The month of June is referred to as Darksun's Dominion in Dragon culture, representing the month with the most sunlight in the far north of the continent—one that still finds the sun eclipsed by the moon most days. This month is also associated with the constellation of the Prodigy and the fluorite stone.

Mythauran astrologers say those born under the sign of the Prodigy are born with a powerful blend of ambition and charisma, visionaries who leave an indelible mark on the cosmic canvas with their grand aspirations and magnetic presence.

At their best, Prodigies are dynamic, confident, and insightful. At their worst, they can be overly bombastic, condescending, and pompous.

Custom Color Contest

In honor of the new color change that we made to a Beast's tongue/mouth, we're opening another Custom Color Contest. We want to offer the opportunity for you to make a permanent impact on Mythaura's color wheel!

This contest is free to enter, and only has the following parameters:

Only one entry allowed

Fill out Google Form by Friday, August 23, 2024 at 11:59pm PST

The dev team will reach out to the winner on September 1 to begin the color design process. Winner will have until September 23, 2024 to complete their color design. Please feel free to use our PSD file, if you'd like!

Winner will also receive 3x copies of the Empemeral Ink that matches their color's base hue (Red, Orange, Yellow, Blue, Green, or Violet).

We're so excited to see what you come up with!

ythaura V0.28

Added ability to equip gear as apparel, so it can be used cosmetically only if desired without consuming a gear slot.

Added playthrough functionality, which tracks player progress and NG+ status.

Created initial beast creation process using NG+ status.

Created skill tree infrastructure and ability for beasts to learn skills.

Experience & leveling algorithm added to eventually power beast level ups.

Various cleanups and system upgrades.

Thank You!

Thanks for sticking through to the end of the post, we always look forward to sharing our month's work with all of you--thank you for taking the time to read. We'll see you around the Discord!

[scgarhigh]

" you make me happy, " blurts out without having time to process his words. it's no big admission, no declaration of love . . so why does it make him feel like he's said something he shouldn't ? nods his head as koa speaks, tries to keep paying full attention but his mind is taking his thoughts in many different directions. " charlie will kill us both, no doubt about it, " he jokes, referring to his twin sister. it's of course not true, but something they always joke about. " she's been planning my demise since we shared the womb. surprised she didn't try to eat me then, honestly. maybe she'd have gotten some brains. " spiel is only an attempt to deflect, to disguise the way he's suddenly overly stressed about his best friend going on a date. cree knows he shouldn't care, knows he should be overjoyed if anything, and yet something poisonous and green grows inside of him, a spark of jealously taking flight. so much so he scoffs instantly at the name mentioned, despite the fact he's never had an issue with billy andrews. but now he does. now the other male feels a lot like an enemy. " i don't like him, " he insists, folding his arms over his chest. " he's just . . . " fuck, he can't think of anything. from what he remembers, he was a good looking dude. nice. too nice. " meh, you know ? he's just . . . meh. " cree inwardly cringes, fears his internal feelings are presenting more obviously than he'd like. " but whatever, humour him i guess. " way to sound bitter, he thinks. feels pathetic. " yeah. yeah, you should come. you can bring billy. we can be a nice little trio for the evening. sounds like a fun time. " he forces a smile, but inside he's screaming. god, he needs a drink. maybe even several. in fact, he's hoping to pass out before they even get there.

“ right, ” he nods firmly, true effort given to following cree's logic even if his own features scrunch softly in the process. “ i think i agree with you. i suppose i just want people to have good things to say, you know — like yeah, koa was totally broke, but he got the most out of life, and he made people happy. ” and he's pretty sure their conversation has fallen down a rabbit hole, though with cree it isn't really a surprise. it doesn't stop the complete sincerity that laces his own words, there being almost no part of him that he thinks to hide from the other male, no matter how existential they get. “ anyway, i'm assuming whatever takes out one of us will probably take out both, so really who cares what everyone else thinks. we'll just haunt them if any of it's bad. ” shoulders raise in a casual shrug, a grin quick to grow on his lips at the roll of his best friend's eyes. “ oh i know you're fluent, i actually had to learn it to be able to speak to you. once upon a time i could have a normal conversation. ” he teases softly, though the knot in his chest tightens slightly at cree's questions, fingers pulling back through dark hair as his gaze finds a spot of interest to focus on a little off in the distance. “ billy andrews, he was in the year above us, i ran into him the other day and, i don't know — he's cool, i suppose, and there wasn't really a reason to say no. ” and he doesn't know why he pauses as if cree might give him one, the surge of guilt in his chest surely unwarranted as he does his best to shake it quickly away. “ i could always join you guys at the party afterwards? ”

[daevastanner]

we can meet again

(gwynriel)

The writing style of this fic was inspired by @khajoors

A lot of this fic was inspired by EOS and KOA

Read on ao3

That’s her. His beautiful, bold, fearless mate.

And Azriel has never been more enraged, more livid, more terrified in the entire five hundred years he’s been alive. His heart hammers against his ribs as he watches Gwyn struggle against the men who grip her arms behind her back. His eyes water as he feels the bond between them go taut with fear. A roar threatens to tear through his lips when he sees their general strike her across the face.

He will kill them. Every last one of them for laying a hand on his mate. Even now with both his brothers holding him back, Azriel surges forward with a snarl. His neck is burning and he can’t breathe and the terror he sees in her eyes, the blood he sees spill from the gash on her cheek, it makes him bellow her name. Again and again until he’s gasping for air between cries.

He tries to rip free of his brothers yet again. That’s his mate. That’s his wife. That’s his songbird. His love and hope and joy. The reason he no longer works late. The reason he is glad for losing sleep. The reason he smiles and laughs and carries on despite the weight of the sins on his soul.

“Azriel, we can’t let you go,” Cassian grunts as the Shadowsinger tries to tear free yet again. “If we let you go she’s dead. He’ll pull that dagger and gut her, brother.”

At simply the grim words Azriel sobs. The general does have a dagger in his free hand, the hand that isn’t striking his mate across the face.

“Cassian is right, Azriel,” Rhysand groans, hauling him farther down the battlefield. “We’ve got to let them take her. We’ll get her back.”

He thinks he’s protesting. He thinks he’s telling his brothers to go to hell. But really he is screaming unintelligibly. Trying to pull free even though deep down he knows that he shouldn’t. That Rhysand speaks the truth. The best chance they have at saving her is attempting a rescue when she’s not at the tip of a blade.

And still he screams:

“Gwyn!”

But she doesn’t look at him. She cries out in pain as the general rams his fist between her ribs.

“Gwyn!” he chokes.

And for a split second, across the field of bodies and fires and wreckage, his mate meets his eyes. Gwyn’s normally bright gaze is bleary and lost. Her teeth are coated in the blood that pours from her nose. She’s weeping, her chest wracking as she stops fighting her captors.

And that bond between them goes tighter than ever before. He feels the fear in her yank at the tether, fear that is nearly as strong as that night in Sangravah from all those years ago.

He decides that he doesn’t care what his brothers think. He doesn’t care which plan promises the best chance of bringing her back safely. Because he can’t let them take her and he can’t bear her terror.

He pulls free of Cassian’s grip and reaches for Truth-Teller. “I’ll kill you!” he snarls.

And by the gods and the Mother and the thunder that rumbles above, he means it.

But he forgets that the male holding his right side is a High Lord. Is the most powerful High Lord to ever exist.

And he’s winnowed away, shrouded in darkness, falling through a void.

And Gwyn.

Gwyn is gone.

And now Azriel is in the river house study. Cassian is still gripping his right arm while Rhysand holds his left.

All hope abandons him. His legs give out.

Azriel crashes to his knees on the rug with a roar of pain so sorrowful that Rhysand and Cassian know it will haunt them till their end days.

It is the cry of a male who has failed. The cry of a male who has lost all he cares for. The cry of a male who has been broken.

“I’ll kill you both,” Azriel grounds out. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.”

But there is no conviction in his voice now. Only pure anguish as he hugs his sides and weeps. Tears fall onto the rug in a steady stream. He wheezes and gasps and sobs till his tongue is heavy and his mouth is dry. Till his eyes sting and he sinks down even lower. Defeated. Empty. Lost.

Cassian and Rhysand have not left his side. They haven’t touched him. Two phantoms that watch him with sympathy and patience.

No, Azriel’s shadows weep. No, singer. Our mate… Our mate…

Azriel inhales a shuddering breath. We will save her. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. I’m going to kill every last one of Koschei’s men.

And though he doesn’t say it aloud, though his shadows are the only ones who hear what is on his mind, his brothers already know his rage. Already know his fury. For they are both familiar with this ache. With this panic. With this agony.

Azriel tries to regain his breath, but he cannot comprehend the gnawing in his soul. When Elain had been abducted he’d felt a sharp sting of panic that shook his bones.

But with Gwyn gone, his mate, he’s utterly distraught. He is a corpse. He is no more.

“Az,” Rhysand says gently. “We will get her back. We will save her. I swear it.”

Azriel turns his head towards his brother, but doesn’t meet his eyes. “I know.”

Azriel has scolded everyone in his family at least once for their impatience. Patience has always come easily to him. It’s integral in his work and he excels at it. Patience is a part of him. It’s one of the only things he values about himself. One of the only things that he believes makes him worthy of affection.

But he has no patience today. Nor does he the following day or even the next week. Because Gwyn is still gone and they still have no plan on how to extract her. The only thing keeping him from cleaving in two is the bond between them that he can still feel simmering. It’s not glowing or pounding or humming with strength. But it isn’t weak or feeble. It’s steady.

But none of that matters because he can feel her terror. He can feel her pain. He can feel her fighting her fear and refusing to be broken.

One day, as they stand over a table covered in maps and pawns and battle plans, Azriel doubles over.

He stumbles back from the table, an arm wrapped around his middle as the breath is pulled from his lungs. There is a fire in his chest that is burning a hole through him. His shadows writhe. He can feel her screaming. He can feel her fighting. He can feel her agony. And it sends him staggering backwards, bracing a hand on the armchair behind him to continue standing upright.

Nesta rushes to his side in an instant, her eyes lined with silver. She understands.

Rhysand is next to cross over to his brother. His brother who is choking, whose forehead is creased in torment as he feels his mate’s suffering. As his soul and his mind threaten to shatter with grief and hopelessness.

No one has ever seen the shadowsinger so vulnerable or exposed. It’s a sight they will never forget.

Rhysand places a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Breathe, Azriel.”

He can’t. He can’t as for the briefest of seconds, a vision sweeps through him. A vision of Gwyn bound to a chair and a man striking her across the face. There are tear-tracks down her cheeks. Her cheeks that are so dirty that he can’t make out her freckles.

A sob wracks his chest.

“Do you know how many people have tried to count my freckles, Shadowsinger?” she’d said, propping herself up on her elbow in their bed.

Azriel smirked. “Challenge accepted.”

The memory alone sends the tears flooding down Azriel’s face. He exhales a shuddering breath as he feels a pang in his chest, one that makes him grip Rhysand’s forearm so tightly that his knuckles pale.

Azriel is distantly aware of Rhys reassuring him, but he turns away and buries his face in the crook of Nesta’s shoulder. Lady Death embraces him and he feels her own tears saturate his hair. The loss of Gwyn, even though temporary, leaves a gaping hole in the hearts of all those she has touched.

That night, Azriel does not return to the Berdara Cottage. He hasn’t been back since they returned to Velaris. He knows the absence of his mate will be too much.

None of her clothes haphazardly tossed in the hamper. None of her tea cups, with dregs and honey pooled at the bottom strewn about the house. None of the books in their library removed from the shelves. Her side of their bed cold and empty.

Instead he stays in his guest room in the river house. Every night he's reflexively settled into the right hand side of the mattress. His side. The absence of her body next to his is haunting, but it would be more painful to take up the entirety of the bed and accept her fate. Accept that his mate had been taken. Stolen. Abducted.

Azriel folds his hands over his stomach, staring up at the ceiling with a vacant expression. He tries to clear his mind. He tries to sleep. He tries to tune out his mourning shadows.

But all he can think about is the bond. If he is able to sleep, what if he wakes and it’s gone? What if during the night, she takes her last breath? What if when the sun rises, he finds himself screaming like Feyre when she’d lost Rhys? Like Rhysand when he’d lost Feyre? He’d lived without the bond for centuries, but after only a decade he can’t bear the thought of losing it. He flinches just imagining it vanishing.

And then the faint and steady humming of the bond stops and Azriel’s breath is stolen.

But mere seconds later… there’s a firm tug. Then another. Another. Another. And finally a tremendous yank and the bond is buzzing stronger than it has in the past week. His shadows become cautiously optimistic. And Azriel closes his eyes, bringing a hand to the spot over his chest where he feels his mate surviving, fighting, refusing to be broken.

That’s his Gwyn. That’s his mate.

His hand clutches the fabric of his tunic and as a promise and a prayer he says: “I will find you.”

They have a plan. Or something close to one. As close as they can get after almost two weeks of Gwyn being held captive.

Every day Rhysand checks the status of the mating bond. Azriel, a scarred hand on his chest, confirms its existence with only a nod.

Azriel will infiltrate Koschei’s base with Cassian when the midnight watches are transitioning guards. Rhysand doesn’t say it aloud but Azriel knows that he’s sending Cassian because he’s the only one remotely capable of keeping Azriel in check. The only one who stands a chance at holding Azriel back. At making sure he doesn’t do anything foolish or brash.

Two words no one had ever associated with Azriel until he’d fallen head over heels for Gwyneth Berdara.

As Azriel sharpens Truth-Teller just hours before the mission, he feels Cassian’s eyes on him. He feels his brother’s gaze that is both pitying and pleading. But he keeps his expression blank, he listens to his shadows hum and maintains an even breathing pattern in time with the whetstone he runs up and down the length of Truth-Teller.

“It’s a pretty dress, Berdara. You’re sure you want me to cut it off?”

“I won’t ask again, Shadowsinger…”

He winces against the pain of the memory, channeling the emotional turmoil into rage. A rage that will fuel him. A rage that should their plan go awry, will help him to cut down anyone who stands in his path. Anyone who stands between him and his mate. Just as he had in Sangravah. Just as he had before he knew his mate’s name.

The moon is fat in the sky. It’s time to leave. It’s time to go get his mate.

Still sharpening Truth-Teller, Azriel is interrupted by Cassian who places a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

The whetstone comes to a halt, Azriel stills and shuts his eyes. He focuses on the thrumming of the bond. He remembers that tug of defiance he had felt. He remembers her screams. He remembers the blood. He inhales those memories. And then he exhales them, clearing his mind of the agony and heartache. Leaving behind only those traces of rage. The feral fury of the shadowsinger. The wrath of a male whose mate has been taken from him.

Make them suffer, Singer, his shadows hiss.

And Azriel assures them: Beyond their most savage nightmares.

Koschei’s home base is well-guarded but by no means impenetrable. And Azriel and Cassian don’t like that one bit.

But Azriel isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to save Gwyn no matter how likely it is that their fair odds are a trap. He’s not going to pass up this rescue because it’s “too easy” to save her. He’s going to go into the fray and take back his mate, regardless of whether it gets him killed or captured.

Despite Cassian’s protests.

“Az, we have to be smart about this.”

Azriel’s head whips in his brother’s direction, the shadows shrouding him in the treetops seemingly mirroring the action. “If it were Nesta, nothing would stop you.”

Cassian’s lips part to counter Azriel’s argument… but the shadowsinger isn’t wrong. And Azriel can see it in Cassian’s eyes as they shift downcast. He absolutely would. As would Rhysand. As would Feyre. As would Lucien. As would Nesta. Every last one of them would plunge headfirst into danger to save their mate.

Especially Gwyn.

The patrols begin their shift change and Azriel moves into position. Him to the east, Cassian to the west. Prisoners are held in the tent stationed against the base of the mountain. The tent farthest away from the meager houses that are occupied by soldiers. The tent closest to the hollow in the cliffside which serves as Koschei’s quarters.

It always seems, Azriel muses, that monsters, no matter how strong, hide so very well. Fortifying themselves with not only fear, but with walls and rocks and mountains.

If he can manage it, Azriel will bring that cliffside crashing down. He’ll bury Koschei in stone for what he’s done. And his shadows will rejoice and he will smile.

The guards change places and Azriel makes his move, heart hammering against his chest, thudding against that spark deep inside of him. The one that tethers him to Gwyn.

Can she feel me, Azriel wonders as he slips past the war tent, his form swathed by his shadows. Does she know that I am coming? Does she know that I haven’t abandoned—

But he isn’t able to finish the thought…

Because as he arrives before the prisoner tent, a female comes tearing through the canvas flaps. In the moonlight her tangled hair is molten metal. The pale, bruised legs beneath her tarnished sheath are pumping frantically. She shakes her freckled wrists free of the irons clasping them and runs as quick as daylight chasing away night.

There are tears streaking her dirty cheeks. There is dried blood on her chin. There is something both frantic and wild in her teal eyes as she races towards him. At first it reminds him of a hawk’s prey trying to outrun their death. But as she nears him he recognizes it for what it truly is.

Defiance.

The sight of his mate and the unrestrained tug of the bond between their souls makes him stagger. Gwyn is screaming something at him as she closes the distance between them. Azriel’s shadows are screaming too.

Two men exit the prisoner tent behind her. One is clearly missing an eye, the other falls to his knees clutching at his throat - blood pours through his fingers.

An unhinged part of Azriel wants to laugh at the damage his mate has done. At the carnage she has unleashed. He should’ve known that all she would require of him was a hasty exit. Not a total rescue. She hasn’t needed saving in quite some time after all.

Down! Azriel’s shadows shout.

“Get down!” Gwyn cries.

But how can he do anything but reach for her hand? But spread his wings and beckon her to his side—

Pain lances through Azriel’s right wing. Then through his shoulder. Then through his leg. The pain confuses him. An interruption to his reuniting with his mate. It’s actually a little irritating… But when Gwyn screams in protest and Azriel is forced down onto all fours, he finally surrenders to the searing pain shooting through his thigh. The aching in his arm. The white-hot burning in his wing.

He lifts his head to see his mate kneeling before him. Behind her Cassian slams down to the earth from the sky.

She cradles his head in her hands and the bond between them trembles. Azriel wants to comfort her. To tell her that he will heal soon. That after he pulls the arrow from his leg and his shoulder it will be but moments until he’s in fighting shape.

But he doesn’t get a word in before she crushes her lips to his, pulling him by his hair for a bruising kiss. Beneath the stench of blood he can just make out her scent of willows and water lilies, mingled with just a hint of cedar. One of her hands slides to his shoulder—

And there’s a snap and the sting of pain in his shoulder. He grunts against her mouth, shutting his eyes tight against the wave of discomfort. Then another snap and a similar pain in his leg. His lips part from hers and he hisses a curse through his teeth.

Gwyn presses a rough kiss to his sweaty forehead, pulls Truth-Teller from his thigh sheath, then shoves him to lie down on the earth.

Unable to rise against the increasing fatigue that is afflicting both his body and his shadows, Azriel looks up.

In the dim glow of the moon and the warm light of the campfires, Cassian and his mate fight back to back, slaughtering the soldiers that stumble from their tents, their eyes still heavy with sleep before they fall into a fatal slumber. He opens his mouth, ready to tell them that it’s time to leave. That they need to go. That they should leave him because Koschei can’t be far behind. This has all been too easy and there is surely a reason for that…

But no words come out and instead he is violently hauled to his feet, his arms wrenched behind his back and the cool metal of iron encircling his wrists.

Gwyn kicks back a soldier and slices open his throat… then meets Azriel’s gaze - horrified. He recognizes the expression and through the haze of pain he also recognizes that he is being captured. It is Gwyn’s turn to watch helplessly.

Cassian hurls a soldier aside then follows Gwyn’s line of sight to Azriel. His jaw tightens and Azriel tries to will his brother to do what must be done. To get Gwyn out of here. To leave him. He’s been trained for this. He can handle torture. It’s nothing so new.

Sure enough, Cassian’s arms sweep for Gwyn’s waist. He’ll pull her away kicking and screaming, Azriel can already tell by the fury on her face that she won’t go without a fight. But Cassian can manage.

Azriel knows that in allowing himself to be captured he’s falling right into the trap that had been laid. But he also knows it will buy Cassian and Gwyn time to escape. So he surrenders. He doesn’t fight back.

Cassian’s arms hook around Gwyn’s waist, his wings extend to prepare for take off.

And Azriel hears his mate screaming at the men who hold him in outrage. Angry tears spill from her eyes as she thrashes in Cassian’s arms. Azriel is reminded of an animal caught in a trap, fighting fate, fighting for their life.

“I’ll kill you!” she roars, Truth-Teller still in her grip. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Azriel tries to send a buzz of comfort down the bond. Something to reassure her. Something to tell her that this is fine. That he’s withstood torture before. That gods-willing, when they make their next move on Koschei he will be alive and waiting. When they save him they save him. But right now, she is being rescued and he feels the happiest he’s been in weeks. Even as he growls against the pain. Even as his left wing snaps. Even as someone yanks him back by his hair.

A sob of relief works its way up Azriel’s throat. His mate is safe. All is well. The world can resume spinning. Because even if he’s trapped with Koschei for the next century. For the next age, Gwyn is alive. He won’t wake up to the absence of the bond.

Fly, my Gwyn, Azriel says inwardly as he tears his head free of his captor’s grip. Live.

End of pt 1

[darling-archeron]

Don’t Freak Out

When you realize that Aelin, Heir of Fire is currently ruling a Kingdom of Ash.

[oneweekwitch]

Quick Update and Headcannons

So quick update on my schedule for streams. I will try to do two a week on Fridays and Saturdays. Since you all voted for her, Patche will be hosting tomorrow's stream. I plan to rotate between her and Koa each week, since they both need breaks from library duty.

Anyways onto headcannons, since you guys wanted to see some of that. I'll start with Koa, since she has lots of room for creative liberty.

She was summon by Patche into the Mansion early in its history. As she was summoned by Patche, she answers directly to her and not Remilia, hence why she only calls Patche "Mistress". She has very good memory, which is why Patche kept her around early on. Later on, Patche kept her around simply because she found her to be a great companion. Koa actually has very weak Danmaku attacks, so soon after EoSD, (the first time she had been in actual combat), she started to learn martial arts and the likes from Meiling, so she could better protect her Mistress. This eventually evolved into her learning how to handle weaponry. Her weapon of choice is the Morning Star, an ancient sword eternally lit aflame, (Patche probably had it laying around with some other priceless artefacts). Aside from being a sword it can shoot flames from the blade, which allows Koa to replicate normal spell-cards with bullets much stronger than her own. Probably has a separate outfit for training/battle. Personality wise, she is normally a tad brash but quite when around others. Whenever Patche is around, nerves get the best of her, and she will frequently stammer, (Patche may or may not find this adorable). Whenever Patche enters her line of site, she immediately does a bunch of tasks, such as getting a chair, book, drink, etc. for Patche and refusing to stop until Patche is seated and has assured her that she is comfortable. Koa rarely refers to Patche as anything other than Mistress, even when around others. Occasionally, she will slip up and either call her "Master", in which she will be highly embarrassed, or just "Patche", in which she will be highly ashamed. Despite what it may look like, Koa and Patche have never done anything more romantic than occasionally accidentally brush hands, in which Koa will again get highly embarrassed. Koa herself has never had feelings for someone before, and thinks that this is all normal to feel when you are friends with someone. Koa is extremely touch-starved as demons don't really have parents and most of the Mansion's occupants aren't the "touchy-feely" type. Patche would, but Koa never allows her too, stating that she is not "worthy". Due to her touch-starvedness, Koa has very extreme reactions to any physical contact, which can range from very haphephobic to very haphephilic, depending on who the person touching her is. Koa is the only person in the Mansion who does not realize she has feelings for Patche, and that Patche has feelings for her. Koa knows Patche best, obviously, and knows Meiling pretty well since she trained Koa a lot. She knows Flandre well as she is usually chosen to play with her, and knows the rest of the Mansion's occupants fairly well. Archrivals/frenemies with Marisa, maybe even Moreso than Patche is rivals with Marisa. Incredibly overprotective of Patche.

Koa: Holy shit I was reading this romance novel and I think I might have a crush on my Mistress but I don't really know, can you help me?

Meiling: Congratulations, you are officially the last person to know.

Glad to have this finally done, I wish the rest of you a good night.