#okay... this got longer than intended

[gomzdrawfr]

I'm curious

[sematarygirls]

okay but sonny showing you off infront of the squad and making Amanda jelly because he’s sooooo in love with you

need tbh, omg 🤭

                   ౨ৎ

he would be so excited to introduce you to the squad. you two had only been dating for a couple of weeks, but he talked nonstop about you. they thought he rambled enough before he met you, but after? my god, they wanted to throttle him.

he'd want to do it in a casual setting when the whole team was relaxed and not worrying about cases, so when amanda proposed that they all go out for drinks, he saw the perfect opportunity.

he asked, of course, if he could invite you. he didn't want you to just show up and have it be awkward. they all agreed, though, of course. they wanted to see who had been able to make him so happy recently (also, they weren't even entirely sure that you weren't just a figment of his imagination).

amanda had been oddly quiet when he brought up inviting you, plastering a tight smile on her face and nodding.

"of course," she said, something unreadable in her tone.

normally, sonny would have immediately picked up on her shift in demeanor. he was her, self-proclaimed, best friend after all, but he was just so excited to finally introduce you to these people that he had grown to consider his second family.

he shot you a quick text, asking if you were available to meet them at the bar, and thankfully, you were. although you would probably drop anything you were doing if he asked you to anyway.

his fingers drummed on the bar impatiently as he waited for you. he kept glancing over at the door, willing you to walk through it.

"look at him; he's like a lovesick puppy," fin teased him, noticing that he was more interested in the front door than the conversation going on.

"leave the poor boy alone, fin," olivia scolded him playfully. sonny rolled his eyes at their teasing, not paying it any mind.

"oh, here she is," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. he practically jumped out of his seat to greet you at the door.

"hey," you laughed, giving him a quick kiss on the lips as he appeared in front of you, seemingly out of nowhere.

"we're right over here," he said, a big, goofy grin on his face. he rested his hand on your lower back, leading you over to the squad. "everyone, this is my girlfriend," he introduced you.

you smiled, giving a little wave as you said hello and told them your name. "it's so nice to finally meet you all. sonny has told me all about you."

"he has, has he?" olivia grinned, raising an eyebrow. sonny smiled nervously, blushing as he rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't secured around your waist.

"likewise," fin nodded, giving you a warm smile. "i was beginning to think carisi here was making you up."

"nope, definitely real," you laughed nervously. everyone fell silent for a moment, an awkward tension settling. you tried not to take it too personally. you were a stranger, and they were like family. it was natural for there to be some awkwardness. sonny cleared his throat, deciding to break the awkward silence.

"here, take my seat," he insisted, ushering you to the barstool.

"thank you," you smiled brightly, your heart fluttering at your boyfriend's kindness. you didn't think there'd ever be a time when he didn't make your heart race.

"chivalry isn't dead after all," fin joked as you took a seat.

"yeah, yeah," sonny rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. he was used to fin's little remarks by now. he stood behind you, one hand on your waist and the other holding his beer. he was so close that if you leaned back a little, you'd probably press against him. it made a blush rise to your cheeks.

"amanda, right?" you asked, turning your attention to the blonde sitting next to you. she'd been awfully quiet, eyeing you warily. you knew how close sonny was with her, so it was important to you that she liked you.

"yup, that's me," she says, her tone uninterested. she flashes a smile your way, one that doesn't quite meet her eyes.

your brows furrowed slightly. you got the impression that she didn't like you, and you couldn't possibly think of a reason why that may be. you'd only been here for five minutes tops. how had you already done something to put you out of her good graces?

you didn't have long to dwell on this fact, however, because fin's voice cut through your thoughts, making you turn to face him. he began telling some story about his ex-wife that had you smiling and laughing along with him.

fin was so enigmatic. it was almost impossible not to be sucked into whatever he was saying, just by the way that he was saying it.

the rest of the night was a blur of drinks and stories. in the couple hours you were with the squad, you'd learned all about their job and all the embarrassing things sonny had done at one point or another.

he kept on hand on or around you at all times, staying close. so close that you could almost feel the rumble of his laugh. he smiled and doted on you all night long, making you blush. he was so in love with you, and he didn't even try to hide it.

amanda stayed relatively quiet throughout the night, and you could practically feel her burning gaze as she stared at you. she didn't seem anything like what sonny had told you about her, but again, you tried not to take it personally. you were sure she was probably lovely once you got to know her.

really, though, amanda was jealous. she hated how nice you were because it made it hard to hate you (hard, not impossible). she tried to be cordial enough and not show her dislike for you, but to be honest, her poker face wasn't all that great.

she was happy at first when she'd heard him talking about you two, but seeing you two together stirred something inside her that she'd rather not admit.

[plusultraetc]

I ended up having way too many unfinished fics to choose from for Shinsou's birthday, none of which were ao3-ready, so have this extra long snippet of my beloved ice cream shop au that I've spent way too much time on for a fic that might never actually get posted 😭

(the context here is that Shinsou & Kaminari are trying to get erasermic together, but Kaminari didn't know he was trying to set his teacher up with the music store guy bc he's only heard about him from Shinsou)

[lieutenantselnia]

I'm currently unsure whether I should be happy or stressed about the fact that there are only like 5 more weeks until the end of the semester - on one hand the summer holidays can't arrive fast enough so I can rest and have free time again but on the other hand there's still so much to finish within that time frame and ugh I'm just tired😵‍💫

At least today (or more like yesterday by the time I post this) I had a fun day, I went to a wildlife park with friends (a trip we've had planned since a couple weeks already), I'm sure I haven't been to the place in like a decade but it was really fun! I didn't think to take a lot of pictures of the animals, but here's a plush trout I got at the souvenir shop🐟

[the-insouciant-scientist]

what are hyakinthos's thoughts on the boatman and the slow boat in general?

Ooh, taking a quick sidestep from the rest of the ask game asks to answer this real quick! Short answer: a little complicated but generally friendly! Long answer: Gotta give some backstory first, bear with me. I have been thinking so much about belief systems vs established canon. Canon says that every human who dies regardless of belief (there may be nuance I'm forgetting but I'm in full speed infodump mode rn so that's a problem for future me) goes to the Far Shore. I say that's... kinda bleak? Also I'm just not a fan of stories where there is only One Real Belief and the rest are played off as silly distraction or whatever, but I digress.

A lot of his everything is based around the idea that both belief and proper death/burial care are important to get people to the afterlife they're meant to be in. Ritual makes all the difference between going to the Far Shore vs the Fields of Asphodel, for example.

His Boatman is Charon, or at least accepts the name. Hyakinthos has a working relationship with him and has probably taken up the oars at least a few times, especially for people who need the extra care in getting to where they need to be.

There's respect there, but there's also a certain... I'm not sure I have the words for it. The idea that death in the Neath is uncertain in so many ways (whether it'll stick that time, whether the person will make it to their afterlife or if they'll slip between the cracks and end up in the wrong place, etc) can be... discomfiting, to him. So while he does hold the boatman in high regard, there's always some little uncertainty there.

(Every so often, by their standards at least, Hyakinthos will bring him a very old obol. The Boatman will always refuse it. This is a ritual of its own. They'll sit for a while and talk anyways, and then part ways afterwards a little lighter.)

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Pick something for me to write

Ignore the blacked out thing, that’s someone else’s document

[yingren]

“I’ve noticed you tend to tilt your head precisely four degrees when you're listening closely. A small thing, perhaps— but in biology, it’s often the smallest movements that betray the deepest interest. I suppose… I’m quite fond of that tilt.” (from Ruan Mei 😌)

there’s a quiet irony in how, almost without thinking, he nearly tilts his head ( just slightly ) as if to mirror the exact gesture she’s described as his own. ren catches himself mid-motion, halting just before the instinct takes over, but the damage, if one could call it that, is already done. she has his full attention again, as she so often does. it takes a keen eye to notice such a specific detail. four degrees, it’s an almost imperceptible angle, and part of him marvels at how she even arrived at such a number. another part is startled by the fact that he never noticed her paying that close attention to him. that, too, is laced with irony. he’s spent so much time observing her — her tone, her cadence, the way she moves through space — and yet never considered that she might be doing somewhat the same in return.

ren doesn’t often envy. he has long filed that feeling away as impractical, unproductive, something to ignore in favor of logic. but if he’s honest with himself, there were moments, especially early on, when envy crept in uninvited. how could it not ? ruan mei, in all her grace, brilliance, and warmth, seems to effortlessly embody what most could only strive for. the way she moves, the care she pours into even casual observations, the kindness she expresses not only in words but in the warm pastries she bakes — each one a gesture of her humanity wrapped in sugar and cream. but that envy has long since faded. what remains is admiration, steady and quiet, folded into the spaces between their conversations. it’s there in the way he watches her hand glide across a page when she writes, how her wrist follows the rhythm of her thoughts, how her eyes hold questions and answers in equal measure. even the smallest reactions, the barely spoken thoughts, settle gently into the careful archive he’s built in her honor. his own hands, less nimble than hers, struggle with the finesse of a pen the way she does not. but they are sometimes steady, mostly willing, and extremely stubborn — and they would not hesitate to test their limits. they would try, they would try for her.

❝ mhm, what do you suppose it would mean if i tilted it six degrees next time ? ❞ the same composed, unhurried rhythm threads ren’s words together into what might pass as a casual question, but there’s no real weight behind it, only the quiet curiosity of someone eager to hear her voice again. whatever answer she gives, he already knows he’ll welcome it.

his eyes finally settle on her, tracing the curve of her hair where it’s gathered at the back, noting every subtle shift in her features — the faint arch of an eyebrow, the measured pause between blinks, the way her lips move as she speaks. he watches so intently that he barely notices the silence surrounding them. his hands remain neatly clasped behind his back, the stance one of formality, though it’s borne more out of restless energy than discipline. straightening slightly, he casts a quick glance over her shoulder, a half-hearted attempt to divert his attention, an effort that fails immediately. his gaze is drawn back to her like gravity, unwilling to stray for long.

he’s tempted to ask why she told him at all, what purpose her observation served, but there’s a small, flickering certainty forming in his chest that makes the question feel unnecessary. she tells him she’s fond of the way he tilts his head, and that alone feels like enough. he doesn’t press. not because he fears overstepping, he knows full well that ruan mei would have no trouble steering the conversation elsewhere if she wished — but because her words, sparse as they are, carry a quiet weight that lodges somewhere deep within him. it’s not a heavy feeling in the burdensome sense. it’s a resonance, something intimate and rare, to be noticed like that. she is fond of it, in some small, ineffable way. and in this moment, that is all it takes. her fondness becomes the seed of his own, taking root in century old veins, quietly blooming in response.

❝ i am certain you would notice a subtle shift like that, you strike me as remarkably perceptive. you can see me, hear me, likely even catch the scent of my cologne and the traces of where i have recently been. those details say quite a bit about someone, would you not agree ? ❞ in his case, it does. when numb hands fail or his vision is blurred, he has learned to rely on other senses. more than that, he has learned that all of them combined can be quite the aid. his hands release from where they were folded at the small of his back, one dropping to his side, the other extending slowly toward her. he doesn’t reach for her outright, nor does he make contact. instead, his hand hovers gently in the space between them, palm open and facing upward, offering rather than insisting. then, as if on cue, his head tilts in that familiar angle she once remarked upon — no more than the subtle, deliberate four degrees. ❝ what do your senses tell you ? ❞

@iniziare / ruan mei is cute and gets asked silly questions.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

ohgod my legs. but con was quite fun, got some good arlecchino merch. see you tomorrow when i'm not dying as much <3

[fina1kill]

        𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊'𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊'𝒎 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎. triggers: violence, child neglect, weaponry, verbal abuse, blood mention, death

   from the age of five and onward, she would be taken in by a strange man and raised as if she were his own. a man called elias. he would home-school her & his other son, damien who was a few years older than she was; she always found damien a little strange, but never really questioned anything especially if her mother liked him. she just knew they saved her from that....place.

that tainted place that ended with her mother's blood being shed. the carnage that came that night was so visceral and ruthless, she still wondered what had attracted those monsters to her house. those elongated, sharp teeth & soulless eyes.....it was something she'd never forget. it was something elias would never make her forget. "in order to become strong, you must become the thing that scares you the most" he'd say, while handing her the literal 'torch' in the shape of a spear the week after the attack.

now...she didn't know much about elias, just that he became a father figure in her life when she had nobody. she trusted him & believed in his teachings. he could be ruthless during his training sessions, especially with damien who was far more 'advanced' than she was at the time; but he could also be this sweet, father figure who seemingly got along with everyone. 'a balance' vira remembered thinking to herself. the creatures she'd study, part of her wondered how he knew so much about them & would often ask more questions.

"why do they hurt us?" vira would ask and the only response she'd get would be "because they can. we're weaker then they are. for us it's kill or be killed." once her schooling was done for the day, she'd train for the rest of the night. her first weapon was the spear, as it would cause less damage to her when she was younger. then from the spear, elias introduced the bow & arrow. being secluded in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in the thick forests near alaska......they all lived a rather primordial lifestyle. along with damien, vira learned how to hunt & track down game, how to skin & prep their kills & how to live off the land in such harsh living conditions. once a month, elias would make his trips to one of the towns nearby to get some more supplies and goods they'd need for the rest of the year.

the training they were put through...was almost military in the sense, that elias seemed to know a lot more then he put on. for those early years, he'd never really let them explore or be around other people. he was always calm, alert and very in tune with his surroundings. he'd seem to know the layout of a building in a matter of minutes & thought of quick escape plans, should something arise. he was extremely good at being able to read people or was very effective in learning things about them. information nobody should have, that he somehow always had access to get. he was strict and extra harsh to train them the older they got, and would often remind them of the threat a vampire poses.

"you need to learn how to adapt to your environment and use your surroundings to your advantage, if you can get them down first you can give the final blow." he'd instruct while also correcting their stance & positioning. "aim for the heart. that's the one who killed your mother, if you miss you're next. do you want the same fate that happened to her, happen to you? try it again. pretend your mother is in the room & you're protecting her, do you want to let her down?"

by the age of ten, she was well versed in knives, spears, axes and the bow & arrow. by eleven, she had adjusted to the crossbow & learning how to use and assemble different types of firearms. during her schooling, she'd also learn to be conversational in different languages such as french, russian, italian & cantonese to name a few; she would also along with her step brother, would become familiar with different fighting techniques like krav maga & jiu-jitsu; something elias would get them to practice daily along with their weapon training. and then at some points in their time together, elias would disappear for a month or two; leaving vira and damien to fend for themselves in the wilderness.

by twelve, both she and damien would be taken on their first hunt together. a few witches on the run from elias, in which they secured the capture & killing of the poor souls. after achieving what elias needed, is when he'd slowly introduce them to the world. he'd officially enroll them in school, even though their intelligence level was far beyond anyone their age; which led schools to believe they were 'brilliant minds in the making'. with fake names & passports, a whole life specially crafted from the hands of her father, elias, vira & damien were the typical 'picture perfect family' in everyone's eyes. when they weren't posing as their staged life, they'd be on the hunt with elias. often they'd move from place to place, to try and find the one in charge of alyssa st.claire's attack.

by sixteen is when elias would disappear more frequently then most. he had trained them enough, that he trusted vira & damien to live with a group called 'the fellowship'. they'd keep them safe and ensure their training wasn't lost or forgotten in his absence. from there is where vira would learn that elias had lost someone too and that he wasn't a typical hunter then most. elias dean (or whatever his real name is/up to whoever picks him up), was a former special service commando who lost his wife in an unexpected vampire attack; quite similar to how vira lost her mother. alyssa st.claire formed an unlikely 'relationship' with elias, in which she considered him a 'very good friend'. because of that relationship, it became easy for vira to trust him as well.

from sixteen to present day, vira has now since become her own person. and while she's grateful for the training she experienced & the life skills she picked up, she's more focused on enjoying her life a little more. and while she knows danger lurks around every corner, she's prepared to handle whatever comes at her. with the special tattoos that cover her body and the training her father taught her, her loyalty is mostly to herself and the fellowship for taking her in. she still holds a lot of guilt for not being able to save her mother, but also struggles sometimes with the groups she's hunting.

is the supernatural world as black and red as it seems? or is she the one she should be running from?

[waywardsculs-a2]

Name : Cordelia Age : ??? Gender : Female Pronouns : She / Her Orientation : Panromantic / Demisexual Species : Deep Sea Fish Hellborn Height : 7ft 9in Residence : Envy Ring, personal mansion Occupation : Main Singer / Performer at Utopia Voice Reference

Outfit References relaxed one || relaxed two || casual one || casual two || casual three || casual four || casual five || casual six || casual seven || formal one || formal two || formal three || formal four || formal five || formal six || formal seven || active one || active two

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

Cordelia is a woman that upholds a very regal and refined air, seen by many others at Utopia as either an older sister or mother type. She's fiercely protective of the other employees, to the point where yes, she would gladly kill for them. She's a very relaxed woman overall, friendly and welcoming, flirtatious and unafraid to simply be who she is.

She has a knack for making her own clothing, regardless of what's considered on trend or not, and refuses to wear anything made by anyone else, being that she's extremely picky with fabric and fit. She even has her own extensive storage of expensive fabrics, and has close ties to a number of stores to ensure she can get her hands on whatever she might need.

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

Extra facts

She is almost never seen wearing actual shoes, but the socks she wears are specially designed so it isn't an issue.

If she should ever blush, hers is a neon blue as opposed to more normal red.

The flowing fins she has are completely prehensile and able to be moved as she wishes.

She has a few pets around her home in the Envy ring, mostly bio - luminescent fish, along with an extensive collection of rare sea flora.

First full image here.

[xadenviolct]

You know what I find almost... IDK, sad but funny, I guess--when it comes to the SJM/ACOTAR fandom?

The ship wars.

I remember a time (an age ago and in other fandom circles) where everyone was just "ship and let ship". We all had our faves, our OTPs and even our NOTPS. We all had our PREFERENCES and opinions and like-- that's just normal human nature. What one person likes, another will not, and vice versa.

There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with such a thing!

But what the ACOTAR fandom reminds me so much of is the OUAT fandom when it comes to ships. And damn, that was a nasty time. A horrible time (a lot like what SJM's books bring out in people today on the internet).

Because it became about attacking people, hating on people, thinking one side was dumb or delusional or stupid and it was just downright HATEFUL. The whole "us versus them" mentality was sickening and, while that, too, is part of human nature (sadly), at the end of the day, it all boiled down to one thing:

It was all FICTION, and some people were outright hating on/insulting REAL PEOPLE over such things.

The ACOTAR fandom gives me major flashbacks to that OUAT time. Just saying.

So here's the basic thing I've learned after time in many different fandoms, after many different ships and faves and whatnot:

Stay in your lane. Ship and let ship. Canon will be whatever it is (it might be "your" ship and it might be "their" ship, who knows; that's the AUTHOR'S/WRITERS' decision), but you know what the fucking beautiful thing about fandom is--

WE CAN DO (AND SHIP) WHATEVER AND WHOMEVER THE HELL WE WANT.

I'm gonna use OUAT since that canon is over, whereas ACOTAR is still-ongoing for an example. Canon-wise? Captain Swan (Killian/Emma) ended up together, happily ever after.

Did that mean those who shipped Swan Queen were wrong? That they couldn't participate in fandom? That they were somehow stupid or whatever other insult one side hurled at the other?

Fuck no. Swan Queen fans got from the story what they wanted, and there is nothing at all wrong with them continuing stories and art and whatnot with those characters and ships. Same for Captain Swan. The beauty of fandom is that shared ENJOYMENT of a source material and the potential to "what if" our way anywhere and everywhere.

Personally, I feel there's more story telling potential in an Elriel story than an Elucien story, but you know what? If SJM writes the book and it turns out Elucien, I have absolute faith in her that she will make the story work. That it will be written in a way for me to see it better (I mean, c'mon, lots of opinions changed on Nesta herself after ACOSF so let's be honest... it's bound to do the same with Elain in her book.)

But also-- whichever way it turns out (Elucien, Elriel, whatever), that is one version of the canon story. You want to ship the hell out of the other version? Fucking go for it!

Quit insulting each other for what one person likes/enjoys and just-- enjoy your stuff.

[altairring]

it's officially hallmark christmas movie season in my country which means im getting ads for them everywhere. which made me remember my hilarious revelation from last year that silvio / emma / rio can be fit almost perfectly into the 'rich and kind of asshole big city boyfriend'/'career driven but kind and independent woman'/ 'small town sweetheart' christmas movie archetypes

to be completely honest, the only christmas movie i know by heart is the first two Home Alone movies HAHA

bUT YOU ARE CORRECT!! those archetypes fit them so well and you got me freaking daydreaming about it the moment i saw this in my inbox.

particularly...rioemma

oh, you made my brain rot fURTHERRRR. but i shan't. ill keep my mouth shut.

silvio / emma / rio is a good trio for me. i like thinking about them ...be it their relationship purely platonic/familial. or one of the riccis got together with emma. their dynamic is just too good...

hihi, if they're in a typical Christmas movie. i would watch it.

[dogesterone]

honestly tbh tbh just my onion but i really think tumblr (and the internet as a whole but i really wanna focus on tumblr here) has a huge problem with parasocial relationships. not like in the idolization sense like dream stans or swifties or whatever but like. a lot of people really quickly forget that other peoples' lives, their public image, their struggles, and their personal victories are not commodities that anyone is entitled to recontextualize, appropriate, spit up and chew out. remember that "alex from target" meme or whatever? remember how fucked up it was that this kid got so much more attention than he asked for, just cause random strangers were attracted to him? literally its the same on tumblr sometimes, but less viral and for a variety of reasons. maybe theyre attractive. maybe theyre funny. maybe they start an important conversation. doesnt matter. people on here wont care if theyre a real person or not, they just care if their username is attached to funny posts, or their selfies are popular, or they're connected to a current issue. its just. fucking content. people arent people here theyre just content to consume. like im sorry but popular users arent the same as memes or the blorbos from your shows. theyre people, too. and sometimes? the attention a lot of people give them get makes them really fucking uncomfortable

[red-hemlock]

[ AWKWARD ]: after a particularly rough first encounter, the sender meets the receiver again, and awkwardly greets them with more than a touch of embarrassment. (perhaps no shared grudges over work related positions of opposition...)

The Many Meanings of 'Hey' @thegear

"...You." The pen falls from River's mouth at the utterance, clattering to the filthy floor, and rolling-off to some great unknown between the feet of other heedless patrons. Interesting choice of word, not many would have likely remembered him at all given the mask, but he had been the tallest of the bunch.

Question is, what was he doing here now? Saying 'hello', apparently, but... Why, after what had happened? Surely he was still licking some of those wounds, same as she. This silence was growing thick as fresh molasses, though; and since she was most in the 'wrong', River felt the need to break it first with a cough.

"Listen, dear, about before? I'm awfully sorry about your other friends, it's just that your get-ups were so similar to my targets' and-..."

She sighs, heavily. Is 'you just got caught in the cross-fire' even a suitable excuse? No, not all really, but those were the breaks when it came to the lifestyle, too. Still doesn't mean she didn't feel a touch awful about it, all the same.

"Look, can I maybe buy you a drink-"

Movement out the corner of her eye and a sudden rain of expletives from the bartender bring pause to her words, an open notebook pressing to her chest as she jerks back. Just in time apparently too as two forms crash over the bar-top, scattering glasses and greasy snacks to the ground. Eyebrows raised high, River's gaze strains to peek over the mountain of flesh and muscle now struggling to strangle one another.

"...Maybe?"

[legaciestold]

@honorhearted continued from x

sounds reverberate throughout the tunnels under the palace, dirt and stones shifting and falling as a battle of magick and swords and dragon fyre encases everything above. her body feels numb, not even the bloody wound to her skin felt as she's half drug along, deeper and deeper until they turn and then begin moving upward again. 'would you truly let your father's sacrifice be made in vain?' sir ben's words ricochet within her mind, the image of her father's gaze as he'd pushed her into ben's arms so clear. the high queen was dead, a prince was dead. the high king was dying or dead, and she'd been forced to flee as men and women died in her name. it was wrong. oh it was so horrifically atrocious! the princess doesn't remember ben raising her hand to the painting to allow them passage. she doesn't remember her screams or the way she'd thrashed in his hold. 'be strong, lyli -- live for him...for your kingdom!' when she'd recall these moments later she thinks that was the moment she'd stopped fighting. when something else had taken hold of her, wrapping around the horror and encasing it in a broken heart, using it as fuel and deciding she had to survive. her people were dying. her father was dying but she remained and her other brother did too. the horrors of this night would be too horrific if such a toll held no purpose. if she died and her people were left to the venomous wrath of an evil witch to rule them in terror.

and so she had stopped fighting ben and instead began leading them through the labyrinth of tunnels until sounds and smells met their senses, day blackened out by rising smoke as they meet quickly waning daylight a distance from the palace, and her dragon standing high and tall at the ready. there's one man too, a man she'd always fondly seen tending to the royal family's dragon companions. he's wounded, she can see, the bodies of three others laying splayed across the ground where they'd worked to aid him in preparing the riding harness on apophis. if their princess was to take to the skies she would not do it without some precaution. without the best chance for her survival and escape. these people had given their very lives to ensure it. other dragons, wild, spiral through the skies as they clash with two who have been enthralled, covering the activity taking place below. apophis moves closer then, laying flatter as the man meets her and sir ben and urges them forward toward the dragon. everything happens in quick succession then. her forcing benjamin with a commanding authority she'd lacked in her previous shock to get onto the dragon first because she hadn't trusted that he wouldn't attempt to cause her to escape and stay behind and her following quickly after, seated in front of him. she seeks to grant the man who had ushered them forward some form of comforting words yet apo rushes onward as a dragon crashes feet from them and takes the man with him in a cloud of dust.

she wants to scream. this time she doesn't.

the battle had raged around them, apo maneuvering in the way sir poe had taught them never having intended for her or the dragon to have to use such teachings in practice. dragons flank them, dragons fall, the capitol is in ruin. there's a point when anger begins to overwhelm everything else, as she watches myra's men slaughter people in the streets below. she knows they can not stop their escape yet she does have her dragon lower toward the ground, a single command for fyre uttered, engulfing myra's men and their dying victims with it before they surge back into the skies and away from the city, out over the water and into the night. fyre did not care what it touched, it was brutal, but it could be wrath and mercy in one. she thinks that's the moment she truly became something new. when youthful innocence had been tore from her and fyre had remade her. the serpentine princess lyliana had never taken a life before this day. in fact she had strived to protect it even when a plot to take her own had once befell her. in the chaos of the usurping she had killed in defense. but in that moment she had killed as justice. she had killed as the queen they'd need her to become.

she'd nearly fallen off apo soon after, consciousness lost in the dampness of flight and apo's voice spoken into ben's mind to hold her before she slipped. much of the following hours had been cold and chaotic, any pursuers lost to the depths of the sea and darkness of the night. they nearly crash through the raised wards of the kingdom of eldenvale. sir poe had made it. he'd warned them. they'd prepared. soldiers meet them with prince jayson pushing past to meet her as she's passed down off the dragon. unspoken words passed between the last remaining children of a dead king and queen. chaos ensues when her uncle commands sir benjamin detained, untrusting of anyone so near to his niece and nephew when reports came of trusted friends having been turned against the royal family. the princess that would be queen can barely stand, though she rages immediately. authority in her voice that causes pause to even the warrior king-uncle before her. they let sir ben remain with her, escorted to rooms and only the carefully spoken words of her queen-aunt causing lyliana to allow healers into the rooms. they use their magicks to close their wounds and restore their skin though the fatigue and blood loss is not so simply remedied. that would take time.

the princess, like ben, argues the moment sir ben leaving the chambers is suggested by members of court though how she has the energy to have such powerful conviction in her upset is a wonder. they concede to her because they have to. the realms are in chaos but the high king and queen are dead. this girl may be exhausted and in turmoil yet she had become their queen the moment her dragon had made landfall. they call her 'her grace' in respect and in mourning, as a symbol of what was to come in the wake of what was transpiring around them yet the title is lost to her because she's beginning to fall apart again the moment the door closes. the moment the world and reality begin to enclose around her again. the moment she can't be strong as ben had commanded of her anymore. she doesn't remember anything after that. she doesn't remember the exhaustion consuming her or how she'd been laid in the bed. she doesn't remember refusing to let go of her hold on him either.

time passes, hours, as others in the castle move about directed by her uncle and aunt. prepare for war. prepare to protect the castle should myra send others upon them. they do not bother the chambers lyliana and ben occupy, not yet though the small trails of colors begin to play in the skies. it's early, extremely early when she awakens with a strangled scream upon her lips, her surging upward in the bed in horror as if she's back in the moment. her breath is labored, eyes searching wildly until they settle on sir ben. thankfully no one has heard her, no one but him and she knows as her light hues meet his that it wasn't a dream though she wishes it all had been some horrid nightmare. it had all happened. it was all real and the weight of that is gut-wrenching. "they're all dead, ben. she killed them. she killed them all and i want her dead!"

[ohlympns]

                  IT   WAS   ALL   THANKS   TO   A   FLUSTERED   SATYR   THAT   HE   came   to   this   place.   He   had   listened   calmly,   unsure   of   this   information.   Though,   judging   by   his uneasiness   that   he   could   be   felt   miles   away,   he   decided   to   make   a   house   call.   And,   once   he   reached   the   borders   of   the   town,   he   understood   what   his   little   friend   meant.   The   air   was   thick   and   heavy—   clouding   his   vision.   It   felt   like   a   heavy   polluted   mass   of   The   Mist…   but,   no,   it   wasn’t.   It   was   different.   It   was   something   unfamiliar   to   him,   and   he   had   seen   most   things   in   his   many   years   of   life.   So,   he   understood   he   had   made   the   right   choice   by   coming   here.

               AFTER   SURVEYING   THE   AREA,   UNDERSTANDING   ITS   PEOPLE   HE   MANIPULATED   THE   Mist,   and   saw   to   it   as   the   new   librarian.   The   dear   satyr   had observed   this   woman,   left   him   notes,   told   him   details   which   led   him   to   this   choice.   He   set   out   himself,   searching   for   her,   and   spotted   her   a   few   times.   Soon   she   entered   the   library,   and   thus   began   to   speak   to   one   another.   The   more   he   had   been   in   her   presence,   the   more   he   speculated   who   her   godly   parent   was.

                  YET,   AFTER   A   COUPLE   OF   MONTHS   OF   KNOWING   HER,   SOMETHING   changed.   He   saw   her   less   in   the   daytime.   He   spotted   her   out   at   night,   walking   by   the   library   asking   to   grab   a   book   or   two.   It   was   strange,   though   perhaps   he   was   understanding   something   new.   It   was   hard   to   tell.   The   town   itself   just   felt…   different.

               HE   PUSHED   HIMSELF   IN   HIS   WHEELCHAIR,   SKILLFULLY   MOVING   AROUND   THE   tables   with   stacked   books,   and   avoided   bumping   bookshelves   littered   with   unorganized   titles.   However,   there   she   was   reorganizing   them   for   him.   It   made   him   smile.   Mr.   Brunner,   how   he   hated   not   to   tell   her   his   real   name,   slowed   his   path   as   he   neared   her.   Gentle   brown   eyes   glanced   down   at   a   separate   book   set   on   a   clean   table.   He   reached   to   pick   it   up   and   clicked   his   tongue,   “   Greek   Mythology,   huh?   Did   my   telling   of   them   run   you   dry   that   you   would   rather   read   them   instead?   ”   his   lips   turned   into   a   playful   smile,   “   Though   judging   by   the   age   range   of   this   book…   I   doubt   it’s   for   you?   ” @pierprincess