#despite them having a whole different culture surrounding magic.

[savaralyn2]

Regarding the topic of monsters outside dungeons, there is a good deal of evidence to suggest that they are not outlandish or exceptional, but also not super common. For example (some spoilers below):

There is a notable amount of culture, beliefs etc surrounding monsters (they exist in suitable numbers to have implications for the lives of people semi-regularly).

Senshi discusses the taste difference of monsters in the dungeon and outside (seeming to suggest that various monsters exist both in dungeons and in the outside world).

Melini has monsters along its border in such numbers that they present a kind of unintentional defense against outside aggressions (seemingly because Laios' influence pushes them out of Melini itself, but they have no reason to wander farther than that), seeming to indicate that monsters can survive in the outside world rather decently, and exist in non-trivial numbers. Laios also notes that monsters, specifically, seem to be able to survive in environments unlivable for normal animals (for example in a salted wasteland with no sources of food).

There's other stuff too, but that comes to mind quickly. My rough estimation would be that a normal person in a settled area might not expect to see monsters with regularity, but most people likely have encountered a monster, or know about someone in their sphere who did (and in certain places this is likely much more common).

Sometimes in fan circles, there's a kind of assumption that the supernatural elements in DunMeshi are almost solely in the dungeons, but there's plenty of magic and supernatural elements depicted as part of the various cultures that clearly aren't just for dungeons (for example, a trained mage might become a graveyard keeper due to the restless dead, and the Eastern Archipelago has magic systems, despite explicitly being very poor in dungeons and monsters).

I would also, like you, assume it has to do with mana density between areas, in large parts. Since dungeons are what tends to generate mana (due to the ecosystem inside it allowing a lot of mana sprites to spawn and all that, essentially), we may assume that a dungeon "leaks" mana into the world. Natural dungeons likely form when a suitably sheltered location attracts monsters that form an ecosystem inside, stabilizing into a kind of new mana sprite breeding ground.

Good takes, honestly.

Only thing I'd say is that modern Melini may be something of an outlier due to the fact that the dungeon implosion flooding basically that whole area with magic power would presumably having a lasting effect (as we see with the fact that Yaad and the GK residents are still alive a year past the end of the manga), even if it slowly ebbs back to normal over time. Laios's monster repelling aura keeps monsters out of the kingdom/main city itself, but them gathering around the outskirts definitely shows that the land steeped with magic is drawing them in like a magnet anyways. I'd guess once enough time passes the country won't really NEED Laios's power to keep monsters away since the magic will have reached a point where the monsters go back to regular numbers along with the regular magic levels.

[conundrumoftime]

Some thoughts on what Rings of Power might be doing with Celeborn

Wrote this a couple of months ago, so I'm reposting it here now I'm here. Despite the dudebros on Reddit wishing Celeborn back so that he'll be the bestest strongest fightingest elf ever, I don't think that is what TROP have set him up for so far in the clues we have, and I think that's probably a Good Thing.

This show loves using visual imagery to allude to some canonical event it doesn’t have the rights or time to deal with. Here, Galadriel in Valinor is fighting with other elves, possibly her cousins (is the red-haired elf kid meant to make us think of a young Maedhros or Amrod or Amras?) over swan-ships. It’s not the Kinslaying at Alqualondë but it’s clearly meant as a nod to that:

And it tells you something about her personality, whether or not you know that story.

Here, she’s leading her company over the ice. It’s Forodwaith, not the crossing over the Helcaraxë that brought her to Middle-earth, but it’s meant to tell you the same things about her that that story tells: her bravery, her stubbornness, her position as a leader, and her will to press on:

And here she is on a battlefield after a battle.

The battle itself when we see it is… maybe meant to feel like the Nírnaeth Arnoediad, which was a huge disaster for the elves. (The helmet Galadriel’s holding has a Feanorian star on it - near her little finger if you zoom in.) But I think the visual imagery of the aftermath is meant to feel like something different.

Above, Galadriel’s battlefield; below, the Somme, where Tolkien fought.

I don't think this battle is meant to be an allegory for the Somme, but I think it's meant to call to mind similar things: the hell and waste and devastation of battle, on a scale that the people involved had not imagined possible.

One of the few things we know about TROP Celeborn at this point is that he rode away to a battle (unnamed) and never came back. Galadriel must presume he’s dead; look at the devastation around her and you can see why. A few people have theorised that the reason she's in her white dress in these scenes is that she's searching for him. If that's so, we know she doesn't find him. It's also implied that 'the war' he went off to is this one against Morgoth but it's not explained why he went: in book canon he's not Noldor and his king forbade any of his people to fight alongside them, on the grounds they had already brought too much death and devastation as it was.

Whyever he went to battle, we also know that he went underestimating it and unprepared for it. When she mentions him going to war says that his armour didn’t fit and that she teased him for it. She says ‘the war seemed so very far away’. If she’s in Doriath at this time, which isn’t named but sounds likely, then this must be especially so: the Doriath version of Celeborn (he has different origin stories) has lived his whole life in a magically protected land of peace and loveliness surrounded by a continent of war. And then he went to a battle that presumably looked like the one above, and never came back.

That, for Tolkien’s generation, was the story of a lot of men going off to the First World War. The gulf between expectation and reality at the start of the war was immense and while many wars in many places have that cultural memory, this one was the big one for Tolkien’s generation. Many people really believed when the war began in 1914 that it would be ‘over by Christmas’, lots of young men enthusiastically joined up to do their country proud (including boys lying about their age, they were so keen to go) and the soldiers - and the country as a whole - were massively unprepared for the scale and horror of modern, industrialised warfare. Tolkien went to war in 1916; he wrote later (in the LOTR preface) that by 1918, all but one of his close friends were dead.

The war was a huge influence on his work. Sometimes directly inspired (he wrote that the Dead Marshes in Lord of the Rings ‘owe something to Northern France after the Battle of the Somme’), sometimes more indirectly, like in this from Christopher Tolkien:

‘He told me once that he began The Silmarillion ‘in army huts, crowded, filled with the noise of gramophones’; indeed some lines of verse in which appear the Seven Names of Gondolin are scribbled on the back of a paper setting out the chain of responsibility in a battalion.’ In TROP, Galadriel’s line to Theo that she met Celeborn when he saw her dancing in a glade of flowers is meant to be a shorthand reference to Beren and Lúthien. But this part of Beren and Lúthien’s story was also inspired by Tolkien’s own life during the war: his wife Edith dancing for him in the woods in Yorkshire, in 1917, when he was home from the trenches recovering from illness.

Again I don’t think TROP is trying to show a literal allegory for the Somme and the war, but I think it’s trying to show something that feels like it, both in that devastated battlefield and in the idea of brave and idealistic young soldiers keen to go off to a distant war that they’re unprepared for and can’t possibly comprehend the horror of. Because it was so important and so formative for Tolkien, and because the writers want to glorify courage without glorifying war.

So: Celeborn. In TROP he went away to the war but we know he’s not dead, even though Galadriel reasonably thinks he must be. And they have a reasonable amount of leeway to play with him as a character around that because… well, Tolkien needed a Mr Galadriel and didn’t care that much about fleshing Celeborn out. He fights in the Second Age, he’s ‘wise’, and he really dislikes dwarves.

The dwarf thing you can read as just elf-dwarf antagonism, but if you want to put some texture behind it then you can read it as a legacy of the dwarves fighting with the elves in Doriath and killing their king, Celeborn’s relative. This does not make it okay for him to be rude to Gimli in LOTR and blame him for bringing trouble to Lothlorien - which Galadriel slaps him down for in front of everyone - but it does make him more interesting, if part of his character is that he’s still haunted by the wars of the First Age, if his desire to keep Lothlorien a little island of safety is always countered by his memory of how this failed with Doriath. And if we are going to be at all invested in him as a character in TROP they will want him to be interesting.

TV audiences don’t generally find established relationships that interesting, LOTR Celeborn is just not that fleshed out or interesting a character to begin with (which is fine! he's basically a background elf there! he's fine with that!), and so TV storytelling would require more than "yay happy reunion" if it’s going to create any kind of interest at all in what we all know is the canon endgame pairing. They aren’t going to use Celeborn to ditch the Galadriel and Sauron connection (which the creators have been explicit about building the whole show on), but she's got to end up with him without making everyone think "who?" or feeling sorry for her. So my bet is that if he is indeed coming in season 2, they'll a) give him his own storyline, separate from hers, and b) create some kind of tension in their relationship.

And so: where is he? In show continuity he's been missing for centuries at this point. Much of the fandom speculation is that he’s been held prisoner by Sauron or by Adar. I can’t quite see how this fits plot-wise - the only prisoners we know that either of them have are the elves digging the tunnels for Adar, who (if we believe what he says about Sauron’s work) haven’t been doing this for all that long. Sauron does canonically have a habit of putting enemies in prisons and then keeping them there indefinitely but TROP Sauron doesn’t have any fortresses with prisons that we know about and doesn’t seem in a place where he’s got that kind of power. Perhaps in Rhûn, where it seems there’s a Sauron cult? Although there’s no obvious reason why Celeborn would be there or what the purpose would be of keeping him. 

Also, coming back from literal centuries of captivity and torture or whatever else is going to make it difficult for his plot to be about anything other than that and his recovery from that, because: centuries. Maedhros was held captive for thirty years and begged Fingon to kill him. What’s three hundred years going to do? Seems unlikely Celeborn would be swooping right back into the action in any sense, or be recognisably himself at all.

But. Assuming the show wants us to be interested in him as his own character rather than just as a plotdevice to stop Galadriel getting a bit too close to the Dark Lord. And assuming we’re still supposed to see him as a casualty of war, but in another sense than dying.

Maybe what’s keeping him from Galadriel - and the Noldor, and the war that Gil-galad is leading - isn’t that he’s locked in prison and can’t get there. Maybe he’s staying away from it all, including her, on purpose. And maybe he’ll get his own storyline, where he isn’t just Mr Galadriel, where we get to see why and how he finds his way back?

[itsclydebitches]

Young girls and women who had the Maiden powers cannonball into their souls WITHOUT CONSENT or KNOWLEDGE and were then told by a stranger that the only way to get rid of them is for them to be killed AND that there are people out there who want to do that AND that they have to leave whatever life and family they had behind and never see them again, watching Ruby complain about her "burden": 😐🙄🙁😒🤨🙃

You know, that adds an interesting spin to the age-old Pyrrha debate that I'd never considered. Fans have long dragged Ozpin for (supposedly) manipulating her into taking the powers, citing everything from someone her age being unable to make an informed choice (despite everyone else her age being an adult capable of leading this war), to the lack of information negating any true ability to judge the decision (but information isn't necessary for other characters, like Ironwood). As my asides showcase, I've always felt that this is hypocritical nonsense and does a huge disservice to Pyrrha, both in terms of acknowledging what a hard choice that was and taking into account her own, fatal flaw of feeling like she has to be the hero. (If anything, Pyrrha should have gotten a "Being a leader is so hard and I'm crumbling under the pressure" arc, not Ruby.)

But all that aside, you raise a good point about how terrifyingly passive most Maidens are in this process, with the exception of those who steal the powers (Raven) or are in a highly coincidental position to willingly accept the powers right when a Maiden is dying (Penny). The fandom tried to paint Ironwood as "forcing" the powers on Winter, manipulating her into becoming a tool, but no one wants to acknowledge that Penny would have then done the same thing? At least Ironwood asked Winter, whereas Penny decided on her own who could safely wield the power, giving that to Winter whether she still wanted it or not. The fact that the story frames this as the correct decision by having Winter currently need the power to save herself from Ironwood doesn't erase the fact that she still wasn't given a choice during the actual transfer. Hope you're happy being responsible for the entirety of your Kingdom now, Winter, because you're literally the only one with the power to protect them from the grimm army your friends dropped them into.

Based on the historical implications, most Maidens have not chosen this, have been forced to grapple with all the horrors you've laid out, which puts things like the otherwise morally ambiguous aura machine into a new light. Yes, it still goes against the "natural" state of things according to Remnant culture and yes, Pyrrha was not given a perfect segue into this choice (for various reasons), but at least it was a choice. Regardless of what you think of how Ozpin went about it, that's MORE of a choice than most other Maidens get. Do you want to be somewhat prepped beforehand, given time to decide, have a support system in place to help guide and protect you... or do you want to have these powers slam into you one day with no context? Hell, if we go by what we know about the Maidens as a whole, Pyrrha was the best candidate according to the Inner Circle and the magic itself. It things had gone differently with Amber and Cinder's bug theft, the power might well have gone to Pyrrha anyway, simply by virtue of her being a young, powerful, heroic woman with a Fall-like aesthetic.

Then yeeeeaaah. Look, Ruby has been through it. I'm not denying that. But the show really failed imo to both highlight the appropriate tragedies and allow her to navigate that grief in a way that didn't come across as incredibly selfish. Her actively striving for authority since Volume 4, becoming arrogant in her abilities, losing things and people due in large part to her own stupid mistakes (you kept the Lamp out, Ruby, you lied to Ironwood, you had the bright idea to turn Penny human and therefore vulnerable), the fact that she's surrounded by cursed Maidens and cursed immortals and cursed hosts and cursed aged-up allies and an entire dead village... and then the breakdown is, 'Woe is me, cheering people up is so hard'? Not that the story would ever go there, but I WISH Oscar had been in that scene, just so he could side-eye the hell out of her. "I'm sorry, which of us has been forced to participate in this war and burdened with the responsibility of leadership? Who is slowly losing themselves in the process, to the point where they're no longer recognizable from who they once were? You? Are you sure, Ruby?"

The writers really aren't aware of how that comes across in a story with so much horror going on, or they do and they just didn't bother to acknowledge and grapple with that limited, child-like perspective. We could have simply gotten an arc where Ruby is grieving Penny and, as a result, thinking on all the other people she's lost/how she might have failed those of Atlas and Mantle. Introducing these failures through the lens of her leadership really muddled things though. You chose this. You've supposedly been making decisions as a group. There's too many inconsistencies and retcons attached to Ruby's leadership - and too many other characters going through Objectively Horrific Things - to write the breakdown that way without Ruby coming across as completely oblivious to anyone else around her. And yes, I say that for a character who has been ignored by her team all Volume. She's also ignoring Jaune understandably grieving a whole village of people! All of them are awful nowadays! I miss when the group was actually kind and considerate and fun to watch lol

[ae-neon]

Rewrite Talk + map

Solar Courts

*there is a reason a lot of things have greek influences but none of the courts are greek but it's not important. But just know all the courts have something a little ancient Greek about them but none of them are greek inspired/coded

*Also personally dislike the racial/cultural hegemony in the courts so the HLs race/culture isn't what the whole court looks like

Dawn

In Dawn, Thesan is the title of the Dawnbringer.

During the war, Dawn was ruled by Thesan Ishir but his decision to side with Hybern was so unpopular that it turned the people from the royal family.

Their political power was stripped and after an attempt to retake the throne, Ishir's son, Thesan Arjun, was "confined" to the Taj Vihaan, the lake palace. In reality, Arjun shut himself away from the world, hopefully his citizens would suffer without him performing his HL duties and performing Rites.

In the years since, the capital of Dawn, once Eos, was renamed to Lucina Pygrus. And despite their weaker magic, the people of Dawn have learnt to compensate by combining magic and technology.

The current Thesan, Rohan, didn't share his father's views and is inspired by how his people have chosen a new way of life, he does his ceremonial duties as HL but otherwise is only a figurehead.

Day

Little is known about the succession process in Day as none of the Kings or Lords have been related to each other. Nor do they rule the Day Court in the way others do.

From the outside, it seems the only duty of the Lord of Day is to be chief custodian of the Library.

During the War, Darius the Elder held the title and advised strongly against aligning with Hybern. He was written off by most as an overly religious and meek man.

Eventually, Darius was called by Amarantha and could not refuse. A year after his death, Helion was publicly celebrated as successor and Lord of Day.

To any outsider, Darius and Helion could not be any more different but the people of Day keep to their own way.

Night

The War came at the end of King Elgar's reign when the Night Court had finally won it's civil war against the Illyrians.

For this reason, Prince Aeron had no intention to fight for the humans, and in order to avoid risking Jurian heading north, exiled all humans from Night - killing those that did not leave.

Much of his reign was spent between being Amarantha's right hand and solidifying the Illyrians place in the Night Court - which made him unpopular among his nobility who saw them as a lesser species.

To keep the CoN in check, Aeron ordered his brother Keir to take charge of the navy - having Keir marry into House Veritas whose seat was the small island that sat directly opposite the Hewn City.

Later, Aeron manipulated the situation with Dusk Court in order to provoke Amarantha into sanctioning a war.

She did and wiped the ruling House of Dusk from the face of the earth. Aeron was awarded the territory and gave the Sunset Steppes to the Illyrians before taking Velaris for himself.

The increase in prestige, land and power meant his nobles could say or do nothing when Aeron fathered a half Illyrian son, Rhysand.

To solidify his rule over both territories, Aeron raised his son to govern both cities as well as had him trained in an Illyrian war camp

[I drew the map by hand then scanned it so it's clearer]

Day looks very empty but the capital is huge and the surrounding land is very lush and fertile. They make a lot of wine

Lucina Pygrus is also a huge city. But it's more spread out along the coast

Edit: also Taj Vihaan

[fluffypotatey]

hi hello! you asked for asks, so this is me asking you about something i like to think about way too much, feel free to answer :)

(and also, I'm dumping my 2am thoughts on this in your inbox, which i sincerely apologise for) (you have been warned)

soo, do you have any fav hc on how immortal merlin would go through life?

i personally like to think that he would truly live. by that i mean he'd surely have dark and reclusive episodes, maybe going temporarily insane or spending a century trapped in a tree but there'd also be the light and hopeful moments. he would travel the world and learn about other cultures and other types of magic, find and lose new friends, adopt some children and both magical and non magical creatures along the way. he would grow more powerful and feel more responsibility for everything happening around him. after trying to alter history, perhaps successfully even but still failing to save so many, he would eventually come to the conclusion that he has no authority to decide the course of history for people that are born into entirely different centuries than he was.

at some point he would come back to his home island and marvel at the world changing so rapidly around him. he'd still have his soft spot and empathy for the humans surrounding him, but he'd start wondering if he ever was or ever would be one of them. the rise of science and technology would give him an excellent chance to keep himself busy and learn new things, even aged about one and a half millenia.

in the year 2023 he would live as his younger self in a small house overflowing with books and plants in rural wales. if you look close enough you might be able to spot a few cats that may or may not be dragons roaming around. a network of robotic davices spans through the whole house, that magically connected truly make it a smart home. nobody is quite sure how merlin does it but he has by far the most reliably working wifi in the whole village which is open for anyone to use, so teenagers gather in his garden like flocks of birds around food in the winter. merlin himself usually can be found there enjoying a cup of tea in the evening after days of meeting old friends, working on five projects in four different continents at the same time and trying to keep the sudden influx of dragon populations under wraps. it is a good life and he is enjoying himself as much as he can without the government noticing that there is definitely something off about him.

on bad days, when the years weigh down on him and he feels like a stone chained to his ankle is dragging him down to the bottom of his memories, he turns into an old man and visits the not-very-lakey-anymore lake of avalon to allow himself to dwell in the past for jusy a moment.

on his way back a truck drives past him way to fast but merlin doesn't even bat his eye as keeps on walking....

aaand we've come full circle, yay.

so yeah, these are some of my thoughts and man, there are so many more, i hope you enjoyed i guess?

BABE I LOVE THIS HEADCANON!!!! consider it accept by me and being used by me as well <3

tbh this is a new headcanon of mine, but I really like the idea of Merlin being pen pals with other immortals. basically forming an immortals’ support group (the other co-founder is Sun Wukong bc I said so).

idk I think it would be fun just have a sitcom-like story of Merlin writing letters to his immortal friends about his life and his past lives and stuff that they all relate to

Dear Keanu, I really enjoyed your film “The Matrix” brought back some old memories!

or

Dear Wukong, You will not believe the week I had! Some girl found Excalibur in the lake and Freya won’t allow me to steal it back from her despite the girl NOT being the Once and Future King 😤 I did find a compromise where Leon and I would give her lessons but we had to keep Excalibur since it was such a deadly weapons (she was a rough cookie, but we got her parents to crack first!)

those kind of letters :3

idk I just think it would be fun

[quilveor]

Kaox, The Tide's Conductor

Just a random character idea because the sound of violins was incessantly torturing my mind the entire day. I probably won't do much more with him, but I still like the vibes.

Linebreak for lore and me rambling.

Young Chaoxi knew he was just a tool. Sold like one, treated like one, being a servant surrounded by nobles constantly jabbering and gossiping. He resented every single reminder that his scales are "dirty", and that he's not "proper" enough. His master was the only one that showed him any respect, teaching him ways of the court. But magic, Chaoxi taught himself and he was incredibly good at it. Surprising everyone with his abilities, which have been called divine, Chaoxi managed to break through the social barriers, gaining more and more respect.

The kobold adapted phenomenally to it. Playing with people was just as natural to Kaox as magic, and soon enough he himself had servants to tend to his needs. Those, of course, Kaox treated fairly and with understanding. Nonetheless, some nights Kaox was nowhere to be found, escaping the self-important society to hide in some bar, drinking cheap ale and throwing coins to performers, enjoyment that he never got but always desired. After all, if you force a river to dam up, you should be prepared for it to burst with more strength than you could ever fathom.

Having incredible affinity for water, Kaox is resourceful and clever, able to manipulate circumstances and people into his own favor. A servant ennobled, driven by his ire towards the nobility, rebelling with every breath and act while still staying within their made-up rules. Despite his name being Chaoxi, he goes by Kaox with anybody he deems worthy of his real respect, and is a patron of numerous artists, often employing street musicians as background for his own performances of magic.

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

So, Kaox. First of all, the most base inspiration was Saba: A Sonnet of Scales [Youtube link] which I found out like two days ago. Pretty much fell in love, and to my dismay I found out that none of my characters fit a violin background track.

I always liked violins though so I spent a whole day thinking about it, because I didn't want to just do the same story beats as anything that ever fit a violin [vague 1900s rebellion vibes, gentleman thief and/or european nobility [honestly it's mostly that, i love that vibe a LOT but i didn't want to just do a knock-off of Saba]]

Hit by a different inspiration [I could blame Xiran Jay Zhao [Also youtube] for this, I found her unrelatedly but really enjoyed her view on Mulan movies] I decided to go with an eastern vibe and somehow it all kinda fell together?

To note, Chaoxi is not chinese, he just takes inspiration from chinese culture. His "nationality" is completely undefined, if vaguely modernish. On that note, his name means tide [if google and wikipedia didn't lie to me], and the three lines to the left of K in Kaox are a radical used to symbolize water [but only in combination with other things].

He has eight fasteners on his coat for good fortune, and black pants to fit the color associated to water with wuxing. The gem on his horn, however, is there as a slight reference to a magic system I made up.

However both his hair color and scales color... are a complete accident! Like, okay, I intended for hair to be blue, yes, but I kind of did them too harsh at first and had to attempt erasing them. I think everyone knows how hard it is to actually erase a color pencil. But the result looked pretty neat so I went with it.

And now for bonus character traits: - Kaox is utterly awful at all instruments. All of them. He tried. It did not work out. - That's why he employs musicians though - he still really likes music. He might as well get it his own way. - His hair is dyed, it's actually just white. He's acting up the whole "water mage" thing. His eyes are natural though. - He had an eastern dragon father, but never really knew him as originally he was in a regular kobold burrow. That's also why he's so good with water. - He also didn't knew his mother - the burrow was communal. He doesn't blame the elders for selling him though, but it took many years for him. - 90% of things he does are motivated by spite. - He's bi. Also out of spite. - He genuinely enjoys low quality food and drinks. A cheap beer for him is much better than ancient wine. He sometimes gets hot dogs from gas stations, and gas stations alone. - Violin + Accordion is the best combo and he will fight you on this. It reminds him of himself, a mix of high culture and street culture working together - He owns a double bass. It's mistuned and he's too short for it, but it's still his pride and joy.

If you reached here, thank you, have a nice day =]

[mysticstarlightduck]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday!

How are arts and crafts treated in your setting? Is it a common hobby? A communal activity? Do people do it for fun? Or is it reserved for only a certain group which does it for a significant reason?

Happy WBW, Sam! Thank you so much for the Ask, @sam-glade!

I'll answer this ask for my WIPs Realms of Loss and Tales of Wilted Flowers, because these two books have been haunting my brain for the past few days!

How are arts and crafts treated in your setting? Is it a common hobby? A communal activity? Do people do it for fun? Or is it reserved for only a certain group which does it for a significant reason?

Realms of Loss

Well, the answer for that depends on where you are in the setting because Avillore and Sarythea - the main kingdoms in this world - differ majorly from one another. And since life in that continent is very much dedicated to survival, arts take a whole different meaning.

In Sarythea, arts and crafts are both a hobby for people of higher standing who have time to dedicate themselves to it, as it is an act of faith. Sarythea still holds on to their rites from the time the Old Gods were alive, and those beliefs - and the symbolism that comes with them - bleed into their craft. Art is a part of their daily lives as a way to connect to the hope that one day the gods will return and also a way to keep their culture alive despite the war outside their walls.

Craftwork is also economically important for both of the kingdoms, as it is a big part of the trade between allied provinces and helps the economy of the realms keep flowing within their territories. Trained artisans are very valued in both kingdoms for this reason, and often become powerful merchants.

Art is also one of the many things that distinguish the kingdoms from one another, as each kingdom has specific colors and symbols/designs that identify them.

Avillore, however, is slightly different. Known as the Fortress Kingdom, Avillore is deeply invested in its military developments, and as such, warfare is a huge part of its culture*. As such, much of their art is centered on themes of war, might, and power, as a way to exalt their values. People in Avillore don't view art or crafts as a simple hobby, as another way to perfect themselves and showcase their might.

(*The difference is that, though both kingdoms have been trapped in bloody combat for centuries now, and are equally matched when it comes to military prowess, the "art of war" is revered in Avillore, while to Sarythea war is a necessary evil to survive. This is one of the many differences in points of view).

Notes - The Outer Cities and the Izuhyn People

OUTER CITIES -

Context -The outer cities are the remains of kingdoms and provinces that were ravaged in the ongoing wars, which surround both of the kingdoms in outposts and villages. It's also the home to most of the population of both of the kingdoms and is situated beyond the protective walls that keep the actual capitals safe. Neglected, those outposts are a ruthless place and those who are unlucky enough to be stuck there must do what it takes to survive both the constant war and the encroaching curse that destroyed the lands beyond it*.

*The area beyond the outer cities and around the Far Reach (the wall that divides the territories of the continent in two) is a desolate freezing wasteland known as the Lost Lands, where the First Battle took place and the ancient capital of the realm (which was once unified, not divided into two) once stood - in the Lost Lands, the betrayal curse runs rampant and is the home to the first figments of what is known as forgotten magic.

Answer - As such, arts and crafts are not seen as something very valuable in these places, as survival comes first. But it does serve a few purposes, whether it is by identifying different gangs of the Guild - a network of spies and thieves that runs the outer cities from the underworld - or allowing for trade whenever a merchant dares pass through these outposts.

IZUHYN PEOPLE -

Context - The Izuhyn People are the inhabitants of an empire beyond the curse that has isolated Sarythea and Avillore. They're descendants of the Archguardians - young gods born of the ashes left behind by the Old Gods - and have very unique culture, magic, and beliefs (for reference, they're the closest thing this setting has to elves or demigods, but not quite) They've never taken part in the wars that ravaged their neighboring kingdoms (until, of course, the beginning of the book when the war literally came to them) as they consider war as a vile and unnecessary spilling of blood.

Answer - They're very connected to nature - and the magic within it - and art is one of the main ways they express that connection as well as being a great part of their culture. Art is also specifically tied to their magic and the way they cast spells, as magic is viewed as a form of art, like a tapestry or a mosaic, and as such, they're known for their intricate amulets.

Tales of Wilted Flowers -

Ravaryn - the continent where the story takes place - has many different kingdoms and species that inhabit it. The main kingdoms relevant to the story are Wenhorn (the most powerful and famous kingdom as their royal family is a descendant of one of the Called, a hero that helped save the realm a few centuries ago), Thysfire (a smaller kingdom - that's actually a duchy - on the western mountains that are known specifically for its trade of magical goods and its artistic tendencies), and Allanar (the kingdom of the Seelie Courts, which has, obviously, a population that's majorly elven or faery).

Okay, onto the answers!

Wenhorn -

As the main hub of quite frankly most of the activity in Ravaryn (be it economical, military, religious, or artistic), Wenhorn serves as a melting pot for different cultures, species, and beliefs, which come together in the city. This means that many different types of arts and crafts can also be found here - be intricate elven jewelry, to beautiful human paintings and handcrafted dwarven metal goods, just to name a few.

For the people of Wenhorn art can be equally a form of expression of their personal culture as it can be a religious activity done within a community and a form of economy. Some people do arts for fun as a part-time hobby, while others become masters in their chosen craft - Wenhorn is known for some of the best painters, architects, and jewel smiths. Being the heart of trade in the realms, artisanal goods are always in high demand in Wenhorn's bustling marketplaces, and many people come to the city just to buy - or learn - those arts.

In Wenhorn, also, inventions are considered a form of art that can be mastered. Many people travel to the kingdom to become apprentices in the royal academies and hone their skills as Inventors, joining magic with science in the mechanical gears of their creations.

Thysfire -

A duchy nestled in the edge of the western mountains of Ravaryn, with a vastly human and dwarven (magically talented or not) population, Thysfire is known for its magical exports - artisanal goods that are often crafted with or imbued with magic they source from the heart of the mountain. Art and crafts, therefore for them is viewed as their main trade and the heart of their economy.

During the famous Summertide Festival, arts are also a communal activity, when the people from the city create new decorations and art just for the event, which is deeply important for them and their culture. Many people - including royalty and nobility from other kingdoms - come to Thysfire for the festival every year, so it is a great opportunity for Thysfirans to sell their crafts and showcase their traditional art.

Allanar -

To the elves and faeries of Allanar, art serves a purpose - more than its beauty, art is a form of remembrance, a way to connect with their ancestors and keep the past alive. Some specific forms of art can be deeply important for some families and the community as a whole - intricate necklaces and jewelry often hold important symbolic meaning to individuals. There are plenty of religious rites in Allanar that strongly revolve around arts as a way to connect with their gods, such as Ildaras Day, a holiday for the elves that honors one of their gods - where one of the many celebrations, other than symbolic sports, also involves intricate and artistic dancing, and singing. The inhabitants of Allanar highly value the beauty and balance that art can create, and their city - one of, if not the most beautiful in all Ravaryn - is a reflection of that. Allanar is also known for having some of the best musicians and sculptors in the entirety of Ravaryn. Arts are also a way for their people to praise and honor the almost immortal Seelie royal family that rules their kingdom - something that often brings their people together.

[noonybug]

Novice witch here. I would like for anyone willing to do me a HUGE favor. Seriously I would appreciate it IMMENSELY.

GIVE ME SOURCES ON CLOSED PRACTICES.

Hearing someone SAY it's closed is different then KNOWING WHY ITS CLOSED. Hoodoo and Voudou are closed because it's a traditional craft that was passed through history from the age of slavery and even before that. They are closed because it's A) they are traditional crafts from Africa and the Caribbean and B) they were practiced during slavery times despite the fact that the people who practiced could be in HUGE trouble if they were caught.

If me, a white girl, practiced that it would be extremely disrespectful because of its history. White slavers tried to erase black history and yet these two crafts survived for those brave but also careful enough to practice in secret.

I've grown up in Louisiana my whole life and when I started practicing people kept telling me that those were closed practices. But I was pretty much surrounded by the two crafts my whole life. So I knew they were closed but I never properly knew why. I had to do that research myself because no one actually explained why.

The same goes for Native American practices. They were chased off their land and yet they're still here. Practicing their craft would be the equivalent of going "That's not all we're taking, we're taking this too,". Which for an entire race and culture is pretty shitty to do. I have Native in me but it literally is so small it doesn't even count. The only person in my family that can practice Native magic and practices is my mother. And even then she barely does it.

Knowing where practices come from, their history, and why it can be insulting to practice them is extremely important. So please when you tell someone why something is closed, tell them why, give sources, and for those of you who want that information, please look. Anywhere and everywhere. Books, websites, videos, hell old historical documents might have valid and useful info. If we as witches do not have this information and understand it, how can we safely do magic and respectfully practice? Do your research and don't be afraid to offer resources to others, being well informed is key to having a successful practice.

[harocat]

For WIP Wednesday I wanted to babble some on how I imagine all the realms in the Love Between Fairy and Devil minibang (@lbfad-minibang) fic I'm working on. Btw posting for that starts on DECEMBER 8TH AHHHHH. For the three realms of the far future, I have a few inspirations. Lots of text under the read more lol.

I've mentioned Mad Max for Cangyan Sea, but I do want to be clear that Cangyan Sea is not a post-apocalyptic setting. They have grown and adapted into a desert culture over time. Though they aren't as populous as they once were, they're not in danger nor are they struggling for resources. There is water and food readily available, and they do trade with Shuiyuntian and Haishi City.

There is a lot of vehicle use, mostly adapted from what's found in the mortal realm. However, vehicles are powered by cultivation as opposed to fuel.

Clothing is layers, not much skin showing, as is consistent with desert cultures, but combined with some of the signatures we know of in Moon Tribe culture.

For Shuiyuntian, I decided to lean into the fact that it seems to be, despite the forest we do see, mostly surrounded by and above water. Thus, they are a water based culture now. My inspiration for them was the 2013 anime, Suisei no Gargantia. In this story, in the far future the Earth has become a water planet, and cities are made up of giant floating barges. These massive barges contain whole cities, with their own economies, agriculture, currency, etc. They do have some land to utilize (unlike Gargantia), but it is limited.

Much like Cangyan Sea, the aesthetic is a bit more rustic, but neither kingdom is in dire straits.

The climate is warm and subtropical, so clothing tends to be thin and breathable without many layers. Sandals, shorter sleeves, etc. Again, combined with some of the signature aesthetics we know exist in fairy culture.

In both cases the lush, elaborate lifestyles you may have seen in the past aren't really a thing any longer, but in general, the populations are healthy.

Items are used longer, clothes get more worn before being replaced, and in general, there isn't as much extravagance.

Cultivation does many of the same things electricity does in the mortal realm (light, fuel, etc.)

The modern mortal realm matches up to our own as as far as technology and equivalent time period goes. The main difference is that I wanted to imagine a China that had been free of the impact of imperialism. It just felt kind of fucked up to have this fantasy version of China, but still have it go through all the same nonsense our own world has gone through.

There is some western influence in architecture, clothes, and technology, but what is there is due to legitimate cultural exchange over time. Architecture is a mix of traditional builds, sometimes using more modern materials like glass and steel, and styles that originated outside the country. Clothes are all over the place. The train platform that's one of the first places they end up at is described as featuring people in 'Lucheng garments that look somewhat familiar', people in t-shirts and pants/jackets and slacks/etc., and people in a mishmash (XLH ends up in what is essentially a hanfu top and a pair of capris).

Because this is a fanfic, and they don't spend THAT much time in the mortal realm anyway, I won't be delving much into how this affected politics, law, and social norms, but you are free to imagine the differences.

(A thing to note is that unlike modern China, men have hair lengths of all types, from long like DFQC's own to cropped short, and it's considered normal.)

There is NO cultivation. Humans lost the ability to cultivate around the same time DFQC and XLH were sealed away forever ago. Magic and immortals exist only in folktales.

The one place that remains essentially the same is Xilan. There is limited use of it by both Shuiyuntian and Cangyan Sea, but old tradition and legend dictates that it mostly be left alone.

Haishi City has become a go between for the two kingdoms (which it sort of already is in canon). As a city that falls between what has become a large sea and an expansive desert, it is foggy and warm. There's little to say about the ecosystem outside the weather, as it's pretty much buildings top to bottom with little to no 'natural' spaces. I imagine it being super populated and set up on 'levels' like the city of Chongqing. I'm not sure if we'll ever make it there in the fic, but that's how it exists in my mind.

[shadowkat678]

What’s the difference between Wingless and Flightless in ur society?

Is the title of ‘clipped wings’ referring to the kind of clipping where the muscles are permanently severed or the temporary kind where the flight feather is trimmed and grows back when they molt

So, Flightless are anyone who gets caught committing a crime. Their wings are clipped, and yes it is the first option and very permanent. And they all are sort of put into their own cast, and live on the flying earth motes around the main bulk of the city. They're the ones that tend and harvest the farms, go down to the surface below on the back of giant beetles accompanying the mages to gather occasional materials the city needs, and do any dangerous jobs. There is no coming back, but they do work on a reincarnation cycle of belief where the church teaches that if you atone you'll be forgiven in the next life, instead of reincarnated as an animal or something akin to that.

(The main goal being joining their afterlife with their creators. The answer to if it actually works this way or even similar with some twists put in over time by the head of the church is left purposefully vague. Also of note despite the afterlife cycle feeling more like Hinduism and similar systems the church general vibe definitely takes more catholic inspiration and aesthetics. Because.... *Long Sigh* Reasons. I Wonder What Those Could Be.)

The Wingless are a subclass of Flightless that commit the worst crimes and have their wings fully removed as a physical mark of their transgressions that sets them apart even further and serves as a reminder both to themselves and those around them. Murder. Treason. Plotting against the city. Things that don't happy often, because of the high cost, but they do happen.

The Flightless as a whole loses all their rights as citizens. When supplies are rationed, they get the barest amount necessary. They are not allowed to have children, and any found are taken and adopted out into other families in the city. Any mages who become Flightless have their connection to magic severed. There's pretty much no oversight or protection, but as mentioned in the main post there are volunteers that occasionally visit the surrounding motes to provide healing and aid.

They can take on more dangerous jobs, such as trips below to the ground, in order to get more benefits but doing so also runs the risk of a very short life expectancy, and people who do it long basically get magic radiation poisoning as some areas still have retained quite a bit of residue left over from the war. Still coming up with a name of what to call it, but it's rough. They have kinda gained their own community enforcement, culture, and ways of life to cope, like any group that's been isolated together, but the general conditions are not great and both groups kinda share these same sorts of expectations. The Wingless are just a smaller subgroup with some added baggage.

In total, I'd say the Flightless make up 15%-20% of the city's population at any given time, with the Wingless making up a much smaller 2-4% within that.

And you know...if they ever run short of workers it's not hard to get more. I'm not being very subtle with the prison labor commentary.

[ratedn]

Seeing as you’re looking for asks here’s one I got way back in like November/October

What’s something you really like and are really interested in but don’t get to talk about enough? Anything, anything whatsoever

I will be reading every word of it and I cannot wait to read it, (if you answer this that is, which you don’t, only do so if you want to)

Have fun :3

I've been putting off writing this because despite your wonderful invitation, I still worry that I would bother you, but here we go.

The Topic at Hand

I'm going to ramble about the two Table Top Role-Playing Game (TTRPG) I'm working on (they exist in the same universe more or less).

Number one (and by far the simplest) is Hearthside Havoc which is a TTRPG that is relatively low magic in mechanics (although the actual lore is high magic, but more on that later).

The game is themed around you being a normal towns person (who is unremarkable and definitely not a Hero) who is sent to deal with a problem that an adventurer (or hero, terminology is still weird and inconsistent at this point) would usually deal with. The idea is that 3-4 players and a DM will take 3-4 characters each into the dungeon (Only a few will come out of this alive) and after the dungeon is complete the surviving characters will have acquired better weapons and potentially magical items, but most notably (and this is the gimmick of the system) the characters never level up (because they aren't heros). The dungeons will then scale in difficulty as the surviving characters gain power through their equipment.

Alright, so that's the simple one (if you call that simple)

Now for the second system (and the one I'm most passionate about, but it also gives me a bit of paralysis because of how large of a project it is) Xuldria.

Xuldria is a high magic system where (almost) every creature is intrinsically linked to the magic of the world (and likewise the magic is linked to them, but more on that later). The way this is framed within lore is that any seemingly supernatural martial ability is actually the subconscious channeling of magic (which is completely different from conscious channeling of magic mechanically)

This system more closely follows the traditional idea of "Heros who level up to save the world" although it does put heavy emphasis on downtime in between adventures and training specific skills (the level system is a bit strange and sort of like a video game in the way you have to use a skill to level it up). Characters are designed to be general archetypes who have highly modular builds (basically you choose a class but have a variety of skills that are specifically chosen as you level up and train)

Because the system is high magic, the magic system is incredibly detailed and nuanced, but in simple terms magic is life energy. There are tools for magic users (think wands, staffs, ECT) that allow magic users to either channel energy (magic) from within the tool, or the tool allows them to 'borrow' energy (magic) from the surrounding area (undergrowth, people [sometimes], wildlife, ECT) Because of this mechanic when a magic user overdraws their power (casts something that there isn't enough energy for) the spell will complete itself but the caster will be turned to a anti magical stone object (basically unable to be revived by any means AND makes magic not work around it).

Speaking of anti magic, there is a whole 'race' (It's really just a collection of people from various races) who can't use magic in any capacity (including subconscious magic) and who therefore are outcasts from their society (which I am now realizing kinda is an allegory for Nuerodivergence) And they have thus been the only race to develop significantly advanced technology (think steampunk/industrial revolution tech as compared to the rest of the world being medieval). This 'race' of people is also the only culture that can manufacture guns (although they do export them which is a large portion of their economy)

Anyway, moving away from the lore, the mechanics (so far) are unfinished but I do have a basic rulebook started. Let me know if you want to read it, or if y'all want me to post more about the project! Anyway, thanks for reading my ramblings

[keister-meister]

I'm currently watching the Bohemian Rhapsody film and it's got me thinking about how silly it is that this whole 70's rock aesthetic has become practically inseparable from the popular Marauders era fanon.

Like... we all know what the Marauders era looks like in a lot of fanon. Everything is kind of sepia, the Marauders wear nothing but bell-bottom jeans and t-shirts and denim and leather jackets, they rock those fluffy, shaggy 70's 'dos, light up a cigarette like every five minutes and maybe most importantly, they spend their free time listening to whatever the author's/OP's favorite popular 70's band is on a muggle record player whenever they're not busy participating in muggle protests for gay rights.

What's up with making the Marauders basically muggles in all but name only? Aside from projection? We know at least two of them were pureblood wizards, the third was a half-blood who grew up in the wizarding world (Remus had to hide being a wizard AND a werewolf – what are the chances that his parents would have allowed him to hang out with muggle children?) and the fourth was most likely either pureblood or half-blood. Point is... they all grew up in the wizarding culture, as far as we know, and whatever muggle influence Remus as a half-blood would have had from his mother would certainly not have included current fashion and popular music – those are things youth get from peers.

The boys likely wouldn't have had much contact with muggle culture until Hogwarts... but from what we know from canon, there doesn't seem to be much muggle culture in Hogwarts either. The kids from wizarding backgrounds just stick to their own things, and the muggle-borns seem to mostly adapt to the wizarding world. Also, muggle technology doesn't work in Hogwarts, so that's it for music records, movies and TV-shows being shared.

We also know from canon that the wizards as whole just aren't keen on integrating or adapting aspects of the muggle world into theirs, even if it was possible. They still write on parchment with quills and ink, FFS. Arthur Weasley was apparently the most notable connoisseur of muggle culture, yet he didn't even remember the word "telephone" correctly. While Harry's generation of wizard youth is said to dress in muggle clothes outside Hogwarts (which I assume was Rowling's way of making Harry's generation in particular more relatable to the reader), we are shown that adult/older wizards are mostly clueless about muggle clothing... to the point of old men wearing floral night dresses (no judging tho).

All I'm saying is... if the wizard society as a whole – not just the few pureblood fanatics – wasn't pretty much unreceptive of the ways of the muggle world, there's just no way they would have that medieval/victorian thing going on in the late 20th century. They would not wear robes and cloaks as everyday clothes. They would have debit cards instead of carrying gold around, they would write with mechanical pencils and they would definitely use some magic-powered version of a cell phone instead of... sending an owl or putting their head in a fireplace. Dumbledore would not be seen as the progressive icon he apparently is just because he thinks it would be evil to kick muggle-born magical people into concentration camps to be executed. IDK, the bar is pretty low.

The fact that the wizards haven't adopted many modern muggle inventions and ways of doing things even when they would be more convenient suggests that valuing tradition is something that is implicitly taught to all wizards. They either see their own ways as superior, or just don't feel compelled to change what is familiar just because something else might be more efficient or convenient. And it makes sense because isn't this how humans work a lot of the time when it comes to new, unfamiliar things, although maybe less extreme? Like, how America as a whole is still mostly averse to bidets, despite the fact that rinsing your ass with water is obviously a better way to clean up than just smearing around with a dry piece of paper? (Sorry for the shitty example.)

This is why I feel like the Marauders wouldn't be anywhere near as "muggle" as they are usually portrayed in fanon. I don't see any reason why they would be so different from Harry, Ron and Hermione – none of whom were into muggle things in canon, despite being "progressive" and despite two of them actually having been raised in the muggle world before Hogwarts. Teenagers don't tend to become invested in popular culture like fashion and music until after the age of 11, and these kids spend all but two(?) months a year at Hogwarts surrounded by wizarding culture. Since the expectation is that they stay in the wizarding world, why would they be interested in keeping up with the trends of the muggle world? I can see this being important enough for someone who is muggle-born and maintains close relationships in the muggle world, but for purebloods? No way.

Anyway, we know there are wizarding musicians (although maybe two were mentioned), wizarding games, wizarding fashion, wizarding literature, wizarding magazines, wizarding sports... so why not get creative and expand on that, instead of making everyone basically muggle? Like, it's interesting that most fic writers don't take the chance to explore the possibilities of wizarding youth culture beyond what is shown in the books. What if there was a wizarding band that had the same vibe as Queen or ABBA or the Sex Pistols or whatever band you want the Marauders to like? What if instead of everyone just smoking regular muggle cigarettes, there was some different habit that was popular with the wizard kids? Wizard drugs?

I guess people love the idea of Marauders being the definition of cool, but we forget that what is cool to us is generally stupid or insignificant to wizards, and what is cool for wizards is just... silly fairytale nonsense to us. The Marauders who wear like... high-collared Diricawl feather cloaks and smoke Purple Pixie grass or whatever through a nostril pipe while listening to some band called the Bad Goblins, or whatever whimsical things Rowling would probably come up with, just don't scream "cool guys" to us like the Marauders smoking cigs and wearing leather jackets do.

IDK, let's just be real, the canon Marauders would be scoffing at bad-tasting muggle cancer sticks, laughing at how silly muggles look in their bell-bottoms, listening to weird wizarding music... what's so wrong with that?

[lady-literature]

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. 

And they all live happily ever after the end.

[khaleesiofalicante]

Alec firmly held his son’s hand in his own as they walked towards the subway station. He knew one of these days Rafael was going to grow up and not want to hold his father's hand as they walked - even when they were both glamoured. 

So, Alec held on. He was going to hold on to Rafael as long as he could. 

The boy was walking quietly, his eyes curiously observing the surroundings. Rafael had a fascination with mundane culture. Hence why they were taking the subway instead of simply portalling to the institute. 

Max, on the the hand, preferred to use portals to get from the bedroom to the kitchen. Alec feared the day Max was old enough to make his own portals. He would have to keep a close eye on that one. 

“How are you feeling?” Alec asked. 

It was an important day. Alec had been looking forward to it for a while now. Rafe had received his first rune a couple of months ago - which meant that it was time for him to choose a signature weapon. 

Most shadowhunters had a signature weapon. Not all of them of course. But shadowhunters, despite their herd mentality, liked to be unique when they had the opportunity. 

This was an important moment in a shadowhunter’s life. Your weapon of choice said so much about  who you are and what kind of shadowhunter you wanted to be. 

Of course it wasn’t like there was any magic involved. It wasn't like the weapon chose the shadowhunter or anything, 

But that was the beauty of it. This wasn't magic. This was a conscious choice. A choice to pick a weapon to have your back. It was a decision based on trust and faith and instinct. 

Alec felt goosebumps underneath his sweater. 

“I’m okay,” Rafael said, as he kept looking around. 

He seemed more interested in the walk than the prospect of finding his signature weapon. 

“Are you alright, Rafe?” Alec asked. “Are you feeling nervous?”

Alec remembered the day his parents had taken him to the weapon’s room. It was had been nervous and exhilarating all at once. He had never felt like a real shadowhunter until he had held his bow and arrow in his hands. It had made him feel stronger - more confident. More like the best person he wanted to be when he grew up. 

It had been one of those missing pieces in his life Alec had found and held closely. His bow and arrow. His Jace. His Magnus. His Max and Rafe. 

He couldn’t wait for Rafe to find the perfect weapon that fit his hands and his heart. The one that spoke to the shadowhunter inside him. The one that would protect him every day after today. 

“Not nervous,” Rafe replied, holding out his other hand. 

Alec smiled and reached into his pocket and passed his phone to his son. Rafael took a quick picture of an old woman who was sitting on one of the benches with a cat wearing a rainbow hat. 

Rafe smiled as he gave the phone back to him. Alec assumed he had sent the picture to Magnus.

His son liked to send pictures of random things he found to Magnus. Pictures of     animals on the street. Pictures of the sky. Pictures of people wearing pretty clothes. Pictures of his friends at the institute. 

Rafael had asked for his own phone after he had gotten his first rune. Alec had said no. A phone was not appropriate for a child. He promised to get Rafe one when he was older. 

They reached the subway station and Rafe still looked resigned even though Alec was practically bouncing on his feet.

“Are you sure you are not nervous?” Alec asked again. “You were so brave during your rune ceremony. This is not a test or anything. Aunt Izzy will be there to help you.”

Rafe’s face lit up at that. He had always liked Isabelle a little more than the others. 

“Do you wish Bapa was here?” Alec asked as they waited in the platform. “If you are nervous, I could text him to meet us at the institute.”

“I’m not nervous,” Rafe said again. 

“Then what is it?” Alec asked, feeling worried now. 

“It’s just weird,” Rafe replied.

“What’s weird?” Alec asked, completely confused. 

“This,” Rafe said. “We are going to choose my signature weapon.”

Alec didn’t understand. Any shadowhunter would have been excited by the prospect. 

“Why is that weird?” Alec asked. 

“Cause I’m 11, dad,” Rafe pointed out. 

Alec felt stricken. It wasn’t just what his son had said. It was the way he had said. It was so matter of fact. Like he was stating the date or explaining the weather. 

Suddenly Magnus’ face in the morning had made a whole lot of sense. His husband hadn’t said anything, just quietly kissed them both and waved them goodbye. 

Alec now understood Magnus’ quiet resignation. How he had stood there and watched Alec take their son to the institute so he could equip him with a weapon. Magnus had known there was nothing he could do about it. This was the way of shadowhunters. This was their life. Weapons and demons and hunting. 

Alec looked at Rafael’s hand in his. It was a small hand. A beautiful hand. A hand that was soon going to hold a weapon. 

For a moment, he wanted to laugh out loud. How in the world had that become a normal thing for his people? Why in angels’ name was he excited for his son to find a weapon?

He looked down at Rafe, the boy was still observing the surroundings and was now waving at a dog. 

The train appeared but Alec stood firm. 

“We are not going?” Rafe asked. 

“We are taking another one,” Alec replied. 

They did take another one. They got off at the station and walked towards their destination. 

“This is not the Institute,” Rafael frowned. 

“No,” Alec said, starring at the sign of the ice cream shop. “Clary told me this place has 31 flavours of ice cream.”

“31???” Rafael looked shocked. 

“Let’s forget about weapons for today,” Alec said. “I have a mission for you, Rafe. We are going to find your signature ice cream flavour.”

Rafael squealed so loudly that Alec had to pick him up and twirl him around.

They got through one by one - slowly and steadily. 

“So?” Alec asked. “Who is the winner?”

“Mint chocolate chip,” Rafe said. 

“But that’s the first one you ate!”

“I know,” Rafe grinned. “I just wanted to try all of them. Just to be sure.”

Alec laughed and finished off his butterscotch ice cream. As Rafe went back to the counter and ordered some more for Magnus and Max, Alec watched his son. 

Rafael has just got his first rune. Rafael wasn’t even in the academy yet. They had time.

The excitement could wait. The choice could wait. 

If Alec thought Rafael was not old enough to have a phone, then his son was not old enough to have a weapon of his own either. 

Alec didn’t care how his parents had done it or how other parents did it. He didn't care what Raziel thought or what the Clave would say. 

Rafael was grinning at him from the counter, pointing and giggling at the blueberry ice cream. 

Alec had promised himself to do things differently. So, that’s what he was going to do. 

On their walk back home, Alec held Rafael’s hand again. 

Rafael didn’t need a weapon in his hand to protect him. Rafael needed his parents. 

His son would eventually find his signature weapon as most shadowhunters did. 

But until that day, Alec would hold him. Alec would protect him.

LBAF - Days Past: Rafael

[random-imagines-blog]

4 AM {Cedric Diggory x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3665 Summary: You’re a transfer student at Hogwarts, and all of these changes are feeling restless. You develop a late-night hobby, but a handsome Hufflepuff catches on.

Everybody needed a bit of time to adjust to new surroundings, like a new school. You took a bit of extra time, considering you were in a new continent, a new culture, a new school and a new house on top of all of it. Transferring from Ilvermorny was a tough thing to do, but you did it at the insistence of your parents, who felt that being at Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore was far better than your old situation. Much safer, they had put it, despite the Chamber of Secrets and Quirrel and Sirius Black. But hey - safety right? At least there was the opportunity to meet new people, something that you liked doing. And maybe you could pick up a cool British accent while you’re over here. They always sounded so sophisticated, while your American accent was just ... American.

You had been sorted privately into the Slytherin house, which sounded well and good until you reached the common room. It was a bit dreary, you thought. Too much leather on these couches, not enough comfortable fabrics. You became too nervous to sit down in case the seats would squeak and make people think that you had farted. The other Slytherins weren’t the most welcoming, and they didn’t give you a hand as you brought your bags up the staircase to your dormitory. You had to use magic to get them there. The most that you had been given were a couple of side glances. This wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped.

On your first night, you had a lot of trouble sleeping. Tossing and turning in the old fashioned four-poster bed. In America, waterbeds were in fashion and you had gotten used to the rolling feeling rather than the roughness of a mattress. It was a good thing that you brought a couple of pepper-up potions to take in the morning just in case this exact thing were to happen.

-

You had carefully chosen your classes for your sixth year. You planned on doing big things with your life after you had graduated, even if you weren’t sure exactly yet what these things were. You took many of the basics, Potions, DADA, Charms, Transfigurations, etc, but also some things like Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies. You didn’t plan on living among muggles, especially, but you loved the way that they did things. They found inventive ways to work around magic, and you always felt more accomplished when you did things in the muggle way. Especially your secret passion - baking.

A lot of your classes happened to be with the Hufflepuff house, who were a bit wary of you at first, but then became genuinely friendly, and much more welcoming than your own house. Despite the differences, you started to hang out with them more than the Slytherins, which didn’t make dorm life particularly comfortable at times. You still found it hard to sleep in there, and had taken to some night time wandering.

It might be the deviousness of the Slytherin house in you, but you figured out some ways to work around the patrols. If you didn’t leave the castle, you didn’t run the risk of running into Dementors. If you stayed in one place, such as a classroom or the kitchens, you were less likely to get caught by the prefects wandering the halls. You were also able to overhear Cedric Diggory, a handsome boy in your year, tell some fifth year prefects the better ways to go, so you now knew how to avoid them as well.

The kitchens were where you usually ended up going. In Muggle Studies at your old school, you learned a lot about how they baked and they cooked without magic. It wasn’t instant, the way that magic was. You buy a roast, you do a cooking spell, and boom - perfectly cooked beef every time. There were spells to whip the potatoes into the perfect peaks, spells to make icing the perfect consistency for cupcakes, even spells for chopping vegetables if you were feeling lazy. The House Elves in these kitchens didn’t use these spells, they did things more by hand, and it was fascinating to watch. You started coming in on these restless nights as they were making bread for the morning’s toast, and one elf in particular was eager to show you how she did it.

“Then you kneed it like this!” She said in a high-pitched voice, showing you with her bony hands. She moved over so that you could give it a try. The dough was surprisingly warm, and pliable beneath your own fingers. You couldn’t help but smile as the feeling of it filled you with warmth. You could see why muggle bakers woke up as early as four in the morning to do all of this. The smells of the baking loaves wafted over to you and you took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. You could spend all day in here, you decided. The only thing that was keeping you from doing so were your classes.

-

‘Why were you sneaking around last night?’

The note landed on your textbook as you were reading quietly in Transfiguration class. You hid it quickly beneath the book, looking around to try to see who sent it. Your eyes landed on Cedric, who was looking at you equally as closely. You turned away quickly, flushing. You didn’t think that anyone had seen you sneaking away from the kitchens this morning, going back to the dormitory before anyone else woke up. You had been certain that you were careful.

When McGonagall was seated at her desk, you took the note out and wrote back.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

As you signed the period, the note slipped away from under your quill, fell to the floor, whooshed it’s way to Cedric, seemed to climb up his desk and land on his own textbook. Seemed a little silly, you thought. You could have just handed it to him when the Professor was turned around instead of wasting a spell on it. You thought that the conversation was over and dealt with, when the note came right back to you again.

‘I saw you this morning, near my common room. What have you been up to?’

You scrunched your eyebrows and pursed your lips. There was a murderer on the loose, you knew that, hence the extra security measures but - did anyone really suspect you of having something to do with that? You hadn’t even heard of Sirius Black until you went to Diagon Alley for school supplies!

Rather than write anything back, you underlined the sentence that you had written before. The note didn’t seem happy with that, since it didn’t immediately rush back to Cedric. So you folded up the parchment, waited until an opportune moment, then tossed it over at Cedric. He was apparently not expecting that, because it bounced off his head and onto the floor. There were a few sniggers from other students, which caught McGonagall’s attention. Before she could see the note, Cedric had pressed his shoe over the top of it. She sniffled, then went back to reading, expecting the rest of the class to do the same.

You watched out of the corner of your eye as he slid the note towards himself. When he finally read it, he glared at you, which made you feel uncomfortable. You weren’t ready to give up your baking secret, or even to admit you were breaking the rules for it was forbidden for a student to be out of bed after hours. But still - he couldn’t really suspect you of harboring a killer - could he?

-

You had taken a break from going to the kitchens at night, as much as it hurt you to do so. Now that you knew that the Hufflepuff Common Room was close to the kitchens, it felt too dangerous to do it. Especially with Cedric Diggory on the watch for you. You’d noticed him looking at you from time to time, during meals or class times. It felt less suspicious than your note passing in class, and more like - studying.

After a week had passed though, you couldn’t wait any longer. The house elf that you had befriended had told you that you could help her make cakes for dessert! Now that was something that you were interested in, since you thought maybe you’ve mastered bread. Waiting until the others in your dorm were sleeping, you slipped on your darkest robe and left the common room, making for some of the lesser-used stairs to get up to the kitchens. You would still have to pass the Hufflepuff portrait, though, there was no avoiding that. You stuck to the shadows as much as you could, and stopped often, looking behind you for a sign of prefects. The coast seemed clear.

You tickled the pear in the portrait, which giggled at being touched, then opened up to reveal the busy kitchens, getting ready for the morning ahead. Your friend, a house elf that barely reached your waist and was named Daisy, waved at you from by the massive fireplace which heated soups and stews for the whole castle. You started heading towards her when a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, keeping you in place. You figured out who it was before you even turned around.

“Cedric Diggory,” You groaned, turning around. His amber colored eyes took in the sight of you, dressed in your pajamas with a dark robe covering your body. You were planning to take it off and put on one of the aprons, but he hadn’t given you the time to do that yet. “Are you stalking me?”

“You don’t get to ask the questions. What are you doing in here?” He asked, looking around the kitchens now as if he had just realized what he had walked into. A house elf whistled happily as it walked by with a big baking pan, three loaves on it nearly tottering off. But he never lost his balance. “Why are we in the kitchens?”

“I know why I’m in the kitchens,” You said, pushing his hand off of your arm. You turned around to head over to Daisy. “As for you, I don’t know. I still think you’re stalking me.”

“A Slytherin who sneaks out after hours isn’t up to any good,” He said. You rolled your eyes at the stereotype - it was getting old already.

“Technically, I’m a Thunderbird, that will be always be my home house,” You explained, still feeling much more American than you were European. “So none of that evil snake business, thank you, badger.”

You walked towards your friend, smiling so as not to show that anything was wrong. House-elves could sometimes worry too much for their own good, and it could affect their work. You did not want Cedric’s following of you to cause an innocent student some food poisoning. You took her offered apron, and switched out your robes for it, folding down the front nicely. The Hufflepuff boy had hesitantly followed. He might not have trusted you, but he had faith in the house-elves that they wouldn’t do anything bad.

“So what are we doing today, Daisy?” You asked happily, approaching her counter. She was a cute little thing, dressed in a bright yellow smock with an apron over top.

“We are making cakes!” She said, clapping with excitement. It had taken you a little while to get used to her high-pitched voice, especially when she sang, which she often did while working. “Vanilla and strawberry because it’s almost Spring!”

She set you to work mixing ingredients while she measured them. You could see Cedric hovering out of the corner of your eye, unsure of what to make of all this. “Oh come on,” You said finally, not being able to take it any longer. The batter that you were working on was enough to make perhaps three cakes, but there would have to be much more than that before the day is through. “You can help with this, you know. Or are you scared of getting a little dirty?”

You put your fingers in flour and flicked some at him. It landed on his pajama shirt. He tried to wipe it off but it just made a white smear, which made you giggle. “I guess I might as well,” He said, finally letting his guard down. Daisy found him another apron, and set him about working on his own bowl of cake mix.

“No, no,” You said, seeing how fast he was mixing. It had even alarmed Daisy, who wouldn’t dare say anything bad about it. You could just gauge by how big her eyes got. “Slowly - you fold in the eggs, you don’t just ... make it go wild like that. We want a fluffier texture. There’s such a thing as over mixing, isn’t there Daisy?”

“That’s right!” She squeaked.

Cedric conceded. He went a little slower this time, taking your direction rather well. You added in the last bits of vanilla to the mix, then helped to measure them into the pans that Daisy had taken away to put into the oven. “What now?” He asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

“We do it again - unless you’re wanting to go and get a bit more sleep,” You shrugged. “Though that means you’re going to miss the best part.”

“And what’s that?” He asked, raising one of his bushy eyebrows. He didn’t have suspicion in his eyes anymore. In fact, you might almost say it looked like he was having fun.

“The decorating! Fresh strawberries, whipped cream, enough icing to send me into a sugar coma. Oh, it’s Heaven. I’ve been waiting for this day for weeks now.” You said, your mouth nearly watering as you thought about all of the treats that you were going to make. “And then, after dinner tonight, we’ll be at our tables and voila! Cakes! And nobody knows we helped to make them which makes it feel sneaky.”

“Knew there would be a catch,” Cedric said, picking up another mixing bowl since the other one had been taken away for cleaning. “I knew you were heading out at night for some reason. I just didn’t expect it to be this.”

“Oh, so just because I’m Slytherin, you think that I was up to no good?” You asked, feeling offended by his assumptions. You picked up a new mixing bowl as well, and a clean spoon.

“Well...” Cedric said, rubbing the back of his neck. You were both in an awkward waiting position until Daisy came back to measure ingredients once more. “How was I to know it would be this?”

“You could have asked rather than accusing me by note,” You shrugged, spinning the spoon around in your hands. You could smell some of the other bakers beginning to prepare the whipped icing that would be going on the cake. It was beginning to make your mouth water. They might as well be working with ambrosia, the food of the gods.

The little house elf did come running with her measuring cups to weight out ingredients and you were finally able to get back to work. Surprisingly, Cedric stayed. He stayed as the cakes were brought out of the oven and put to freeze to make them easier to ice. He stayed as you struggled with a piping bag, and ended up with frosting all over your apron.

“Stop laughing,” You said, as you saw that he was chuckling. He turned away but you could still feel his shoulders move. You glared at him, wiped a glob off your apron and onto your finger, then flicked it right at the back of his neck. That made him stop real quick. He turned back to look at you and you gave him your widest grin. “Oops.”

“No food fights, please!” Daisy wheezed, which put an end to whatever Cedric was thinking about. He wiped it off, onto his apron, then chuckled again.

“Yeah, no food fights,” He repeated to you, as if you were the one getting the scolding. You rolled your eyes, then went back to trying to get the piping bag right. You managed, without exploding it this time, and wasting the precious icing. Still though, you took little dallops of it off your apron and stuck it into your mouth, savoring the flavor.

“Has there ever been a food fight at Hogwarts?” You wondered allowed, stepping back to admire your handiwork. You could imagine one happening in the Great Hall, given how much food was in there on a constant basis. Cedric looked a little surprise that you were asking him in such a pleasant tone rather than the snippiness that you had been passing back and forth.

“A couple of years ago,” Cedric said, smiling as he thought about it. “You know the Weasley twins, from the Gryffindor Quidditch team? They started one in their first year. Now there’s a spell on the tables where it can’t happen anymore.”

“I hope Dumbledore forgets one year. Because now, I gotta start one.” You said, thinking that you had to talk to these twins about how they did it. And maybe a Ravenclaw for counter-spells.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Cedric said, winking at you over his own creation. His was a lot messier than yours, but it would hopefully taste good, that’s what was important. “Strawberries?”

“Strawberries,”  You affirmed. A house elf came over with a basket of the fresh fruit, just washed and shiny. You go to work with a knife now, which seemed a little dangerous. As you took it up to cut the leaves off, you looked over at Cedric. He already had the knife in hand and was chopping surprisingly well. He seemed to have some talent other than Quidditch and a winning smile. And - best of all, he seemed to trust that you weren’t going to attack with him the knife. Pretty big deal for a Slytherin.

When the cakes that you were making were finished, you took off the apron and stiffled a yawn. In the time that it had taken you and Cedric to make three a piece, house elves had finished a couple dozen. Yours and his weren’t as picture perfect as the others, but you were happy with your work nonetheless. “Alright, well, g’night...” You said, stretching as you went into the hallway. You could faintly see the sun beginning to rise through the window, the sky no longer black but a lighter shade of navy.

“This was fun,” Cedric admitted, turning to look at you, flour staining the front of his once-perfect robes where the apron didn’t cover. “You do this every night?”

“It’s usually just bread that I make,” You admitted. “The cake was much more fun than that. But bread is really cool, the way that it’s made with just the simplest things. I think I want to become a baker after graduating, but who knows...” You shrugged. The world was still a dark place. But surely that meant that there was going to be more of a need for baked goods to lighten the load and make people feel a little better.

“You’re great at it,” Cedric complimented. Well, that was a nice touch. The Golden boy of Hufflepuff was giving you a compliment, and making you feel a bit of the honeyglow.

“Thanks.” You said. You took a couple of steps down the hallway which would lead you to the stairs down towards the dungeons, but you stopped, turning around. “Are you going to tell on me?”

“No,” Cedric said, after taking a couple of seconds to think. “I might join you again sometime, though.”

“Well that’s fine then,” You said with a smile. “Goodnight, Cedric.”

“Good morning, y/n,” Cedric said, running his fingers through his hair once more, before turning himself to go to his own dormitory. You laughed as you watched him go, then hurried yourself along to get ready for the day.

-

At dessert the next night, you were surprised to see not one of the picture perfect cakes that the elves had made, but rather one of the haphazard ones that was definitely Cedric’s. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you saw the uneven strawberries and the frosting dripping over the sides. The Slytherin girl next to you commented on how it looked ‘like a child had made it’ and got up to go down the table to one of the nicer looking cakes.

You eagerly took a piece. The cake itself was perfection, it was just the uneven frosting that made it look a little wonky. As you cut into it, you looked over to the Hufflepuff table to catch eyes with the baker himself. He had one of your cakes in front of him, and had loaded two pieces onto his plate. He gave you his heart-melting smile and you returned the sentiment. You stabbed a piece of the cake onto your fork and held it up as if in cheers. He did the same.

It wasn’t the same as eating with him exactly, but it was nice nonetheless. You had become restless during the nights because of how homesick you were, and you found something which could become a life-long love. And, well, you really didn’t mind that Cedric was along for the ride.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Drow Worldbuilding

a post that i had meant to get done a few weeks ago and did not, sorry. previous drow posts are in this masterpost

This info has been on my patreon for a while! I try to post WIPs and bonus details on there any time I'm working on a project. (and joining my patreon now gets you to my discord server, where I post way more often and am always open for discussions!) So let's finally wrap this series up.

(Image description: a stone throne room in a drow cavern, where a single drow kneels on the floor in front of their Matriarch on her throne, surrounded by other leadership. A drow governess and avaune stand in the background while two chamberlains stand near the throne. The Matriarch is extending a hand to the kneeling drow, and appears to be speaking to them. Along the walls, glowing macrame decorations illuminate the room. End description.)

In a drow colony, everyone is family. Children, their mother, their fathers, and their aunts and uncles. This eusocial hierarchy, similar to that of naked mole rats, requires the whole colony to work together, fulfilling different tasks to keep everything running smoothly. The children, once they are old enough, take apprenticeships with older siblings and the avaune (the aunts and uncles) to learn a useful skill and contribute to the good of the colony. Drow are usually born as twins, but it is not required for twins to choose the same career path.

At the top of the hierarchy, the Matriarch is a spiritual leader and a guide to all her children. She bears responsibility to have children, maintain the colony's connection to their spiritual beliefs, and provide counseling to all her children. They are required to meet with her to gain approval for any major life choice they make. Essentially, they have to ask their mom first.

By her side, the chamberlains, her mates and the fathers of the colony, take care of the more utilitarian side of things. There are typically 3-5 chamberlains in a single colony, which allows them to split their duties for greater efficiency. They keep the peace, settling arguments and directing the work of the whole colony. They also maintain the allegiances between their current colony and their home colonies. From the Matriarch's home colony, the avaune are her siblings. Older drow who can help set up a new colony before it has a properly grown population.

Matriarchs come to be when a female drow chooses to undergo a series of trials to prove herself worthy of the position, being granted a medical procedure to kickstart the necessary hormonal shift. They become governesses, training under their Matriarch to one day start their own colonies. They also assist in caring for their newborn siblings, before the babies are old enough to be handed off to other siblings and raised in the common area of the colony.

Though the common drow are at the bottom of the hierarchy, they are important and hold a fair amount of power. They also have their own hierarchies, by which they maintain order and determine right-of-way in narrow tunnels. If the common drow are unhappy with their leaders, they will make it known and chase out the offending individuals. The truly lowest class of drow are the wanderers; fertile males who leave their homes and avoid the training to become chamberlains. They are treated as outcasts and scoundrels any time they enter a drow colony. Despite this, they are essential for genetic diversity, allowed to mate with any Matriarch who will allow them. And afterwards promptly chased out by the resident chamberlains.

(Image description: a drow sitting at the exit of a cave at night, holding a drop spindle. They are reaching up to the full moon, gathering light in their fingers that they spin onto the drop spindle in a glowing thread. end description.)

No one quite understands how drow are able to spin light into thread. The biological side of magic is very difficult to study. According to drow beliefs, the skill was taught to their ancestors by a spider goddess who led their people to safety underground. By spinning and weaving light, they are never lost in the darkness of the caverns.

This skill is extremely important in drow culture. Those who diligently practice it are some of the most revered members of a colony. The textiles they weave are unique to each colony, proving their origin, carefully guarded from theft. Spiderweb motifs are everywhere in drow weaving, especially in the netting they use for wall lights and in the finest veils they craft for their Matriarch.

The thread and cloth made by skilled drow weavers is also their greatest export, allowing them to maintain trade with people outside the caverns. Young adult drow are required to join their older sibling merchants on at least one trade outing, to be familiarized with the outside world. This can be quite a culture shock for a young drow, but some choose to pursue career paths that will allow them to stay outside the caverns more frequently, such as leaving to study at a university above ground. So long as they maintain regular contact with their colony, this educational exploration is encouraged.

Some people are suspicious of the drow, due to their seemingly secretive nature. Truthfully, they do not often let outsiders into their colonies. Growing up in such a harsh environment with strict hierarchies, drow also might come across as hostile and aloof while they are still unused to surface dwelling cultures. They are adapted for the environment they live in, and this simply does not mesh well with everyone they meet outside their colonies.