#kerchief spirit

[bottlespiritsociety]

Oh hello there! I’m Cait, one of the members of the Society for the Safekeeping and Study of Bottle Spirits, or SSBS for short! Though, I suppose most folks know us as The Bottle Spirit Society.

I’ve been recently elected to be the head of our Adoptions Department, so I’ll be letting you fine folks know about all bottle spirits we come across that are looking for new homes, as well as facts and observations about these amazing little creatures!

For instance, this little fellow here is what's known as a Kerchief Spirit- they are avid little collectors and are quite fond of hiding in Big Folk's homes! If you have a bookshelf that's gathering dust, or a junk drawer full of odds and ends, chances are you might have a Kerchief Spirit residing in there!

Oh but I could go on for days- I'm so excited to help these little creatures find loving homes!

[moncharrow]

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

-

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.2 K Warnings: none Prompt: As Hogwarts days begin, challenges arise, with exhilarating morning flights, and laughter filled environments. Secret struggles surface but a caring gesture from Remus and the Marauders promises to uplift spirits and forge lasting bonds. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Good times

As you walked inside the Gryffindor common room for the first time Lily was sitting on the couch, but stood up the minute you showed up “There you are! I was worried sick!” She told Remus, gave James a look of disdain and turned back to the taller boy  “I thought you’d be faster to bring her here.” 

“The staircase wasn’t cooperating,” Remus explained. “We had to use a different path.” 

“At least you didn’t get caught.” She said taking a deep breath and sitting back down on the couch, now finally relaxing a bit. 

“I brought some food from the kitchens,” said Peter, pulling out a kerchief tied at the top and placing it on the table in front of the fire. “It’s just some scones with cream and jam, but I thought we might get hungry.” 

“Thanks, Pete,” Lily said as she untied the knot and the top and grabbed one of the little treats. 

Then the portrait opened again, letting someone else inside. 

You stood just behind Remus, turned towards Lily rather than the entrance but the moment you heard that voice, you froze. It's Sirius.

“Excellent job guys!” He said with a bright smile. Remus turned to him and shot a warning look, to point out they weren’t alone. Sirius saw Lily and nodded “With the evacuation of the great hall–“ he corrected “It was brilliant how you handled it, Lils, Moony, you’re both top tier prefects.” 

James rolled his eyes but then a smile appeared on his face, a very James-like smile in fact, filled with charm and mischievousness. “We’ve actually got something to show you.” He said and unexpectedly pulled you from behind Remus in a way that you’d end up facing Sirius instead. 

And damned merlin, Sirius was even more beautiful than you remembered. You’d like to think you’d made peace with the idea of being ghosted, with the idea of never seeing Sirius again, but standing right in front of him, now taller, with broader shoulders, longer hair, and the same stunning eyes, made you want to apparate to anywhere but there. So you just awkwardly smiled and waved, hoping he wouldn’t just storm out of the place without even saying a word.

“(Y/N)? What… what are you doing here?” He asked with a frown.

“Hey to you too, old pal,” you said, struggling to not sound as awkward as you felt. 

“She’s here Pads!” Said James excitedly, “She’s gonna study with us!” 

“Yeah,” Peter added, “She transferred this year like you wished she would back in the day.” 

To that you raised an eyebrow, you’d seen his friends get excited when you introduced yourself to them, but it seemed weird that after ghosting you, Sirius told his friends he wished you were a student in Hogwarts “And here I thought you’d never want to see me again,” you said with a bit of a teasing smile towards him, trying to hide the doubt that still lingered in your brain. Could it really be that it had all been some kind of misunderstanding? 

“What?” He asked, visibly confused.

“Since you never replied to any of my letters…” 

He seemed shocked for a moment and then exhaled in a defeated tone “Walburga.” 

“Your mom?” You asked frowning before it downed you “Your mom.” 

He nodded “I did always wonder why you never tried to reach out.” 

You thought about what he said for a moment and then smiled “Seems like we have a lot to catch up on then.” 

Then James placed an arm on top of Sirius's shoulder “And I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to do that, but now we must go to bed. Tomorrow we’re flying first thing in the morning. We gotta practice before we open the tryouts.”

“Which positions are you missing?” You asked him before anyone had the chance to stop you. Once James started talking about quidditch, it was hard to get him to shut up again.

“We lost a keeper and 2 chasers,” James explained “They were from 7th and graduated last summer.”

“And you fly in the mornings, always?” You asked surprised. 

“Gotta stay in top shape, I’m the captain after all.” 

“Oh, that’s amazing. Mind if I join you tomorrow? I wanna test my luck on the tryouts.” 

He raised an eyebrow “Which position?” 

“Uh… I used to play seeker,” he winced at that, “but I’ll try for keeper I guess, I’ve got good eyes for catching things,” you replied with a smile. 

“Careful Potter, she may come take your place!” Sirius teased, “All though, for all I know she might be terrible at flying.” 

With Sirius teasing you like that, it was as if all those years hadn’t gone by, no resentments, no suffering. Just the two of you, continuing on where you left off. “Oh, isn’t that right? You promised me a race a couple of years ago, but that never played out.” 

“Is that a challenge?” He asked but when you were about to reply Lily stood up and placed her arm over your shoulder. 

“Might have been,” She said “But we must now go to our room,” she said pointing at you and herself “and you must go back to sleep if you really want to wake up at 5AM.” 

“5 AM?” Frowned Sirius. 

“Classes start at 7 tomorrow, if you want enough time for flying and breakfast, you’ll have to get up then.” She said before dragging you towards the stairs.

You turned your head, finding it hard to stop staring at Sirius, it was almost like a dream. “Good night boys,” You said, waving at them as you followed behind Lily, Sirius also had a hard time to stop staring at you as you walked next to the red headed girl. 

As you were halfway up the stairs she whispered “It’s a terrible idea to challenge Sirius like that, knowing him, he’ll make a spectacle of the race.” 

You stopped for a minute, looking at Lily with a cocky grin “It’s only a bad idea if I lose.” 

She rolled her eyes with a smile “I barely know you, and so far I can tell you’re just as thick headed as that lot,” she said as she nodded towards them. “Let’s go, I’ll show you our room.” 

“We’re together?” You asked with a smile. 

She nodded, mirroring your expression “We were the only room with only 3 girls.” 

Inside the room were Mary and Marlene, Mary was sitting on her bed while reading a book and Marlene was drying her hair with a towel near a door, which you assumed would be the bathroom. “That’s your bed,” Marlene said, pointing at the bed closest to the door. “It was here when we got to the room, that’s how we figured you’d be with us.” 

“That and the trunk with your name on it,” said Mary looking up from her book “We thought you’d gotten lost in the ordeal, but Lily told us you were with Remus.” 

“We would’ve gone out to find you otherwise,” added Marlene. “Lily wanted to go even if you were with Remus but we told her you’d be alright.” 

“You wanted to go get me?” You asked, turning towards her.

“I felt responsible for leaving you on the stairs,” she explained “I didn’t want you to get in trouble because of me.” 

“Thank you,” You told her with a smile. Lily went for a shower and you started to unpack your stuff. Marlene approached you when you pulled your broom out and you talked about quidditch until Lily was out of the shower, at which point you let Marlene have the broom and went for a shower yourself. 

When you were back in the room Marlene had already placed your broom on a broom stand on the wall. “It deserved to be admired,” she’d said when you noticed and you nodded with a smile. After that, you’d all gotten comfortable in your beds and the lights were turned off.

“Good night girls,” You said with a smile, after months of feeling lonely, you finally started to feel like you belonged somewhere again. And you were so glad the hat had placed you in Gryffindor, with these girls, who had been all incredibly nice to you, and you were even happy you’d met Remus and his friends, who seemed like they would get you in so many adventures and mischief. 

In the morning you were awoken by a small little metal bird picking on your face lightly, it was your mom’s gift before you got to the school, a very elegant cuckoo clock, she’d bought at a furniture store in Diagon Alley. Even if it took you a minute to fully comprehend what was going on you silently stood up and changed, pulling a thick wool sweater over your head and a pair of training pants, thick and sturdy in case of falls. All though, because they were the same you had since you were in the team back at your older school, they were a little tighter than you remembered. Perhaps you really had a growth spurt over the summer. 

 You grabbed a pair of goggles, your broom, and sneaked out of the room without making any noise. James was already in the common room, tapping his foot as he looked up at the stairs, hair just as messy as the day you’d met him. He looked up at you and smiled. “How is it that you take less time to get ready than Sirius?” He said and then took a deep breath “I guess it  is because it’s Sirius who’s getting ready.” You raised your eyebrows in response “He’s brushing his hair,” James complained. You just laughed, longer hair’s harder to care for, but being told about Sirius’ vanity by his roommate was just hilarious. That was when Potter noticed your broom “Is that a Dark Nimbus?” He asked, staring at it from behind. 

You nodded “Brand new, mom got it for me to try and make me feel better about moving.” 

He stood up and got closer to take a look at it “It’s stunning!” He said with a smile as he accommodated his glasses to see better. “I have a Starmist,” he said pointing towards his broom behind him. “I got it last year, I'd like to see how she fares against your Nimbus.” 

“Well, we’ll get to see it today,” You replied with a smile, that’s when you heard a door close and the two of you turned towards Sirius, who was walking down the stairs with a SweepFire he’d had for a couple of years, but that looked well cared for, it had been James’.

“Why are you wearing green?” He asked as soon as he saw you. 

You looked down at your sweater and saw it change to burgundy right in front of your eyes, frowning and turning towards him “Did you just… magic dyed my sweater into a different colour?” 

“Can’t be seen flying around with someone wearing Slytherin house colours,” he said as he continued walking towards the door “It’d ruin my reputation.” 

You raised your eyebrows and gave James a questioning look, he just shrugged in response and followed behind Sirius, you caught up with him shortly after. As you walked down towards the patio James told you all about being Team Captain and how he had to make sure everyone was in top shape. “After the tryouts, it’s not just gonna be flying in the mornings, we’ll have practice at least 4 times a week with the whole team.”

Once on the patio, the three of you got on your brooms. And per James’s instructions did 5 laps around the castle. It was a chilly morning, so you were glad you’d put on the thicker sweater. Once you were done James pulled a quaffle and you all passed it between each other. At some point, He shot it a little farther behind you and you had to fly back to get it, bumping into Sirius and causing him to lose balance.

You responded quickly, stabilising his broom with yours and pulling his arm to stop him from falling, he’d managed to catch the quaffle with his other hand. James had flown towards the two of you as quickly as he could but by the time he arrived you were already pulling Sirius back up and laughing about it. “Maybe we should get some of those muggle hooks so you don’t fall off your broom,” you told him with a small knock on his arm. 

“Hey, even without them, I’ve caught it more times than you!” He said with a proud smile. 

“Not true!” You said trying to take it from his hands “That was my catch!” You nodded towards the ball in his hand as you attempted to grab it, Sirius used one of his hands to keep you back while he stretched the other arm to maintain the quaffle out of your grip. 

“This one? But it’s in my hands.” 

“No! I caught you, you caught it, it’s mine by right of catching you first.” 

James raised his eyebrows at the exchange and smiled mischievously as he flew towards Sirius' other arm and grabbed the quaffle, flying as fast as possible in another direction. He loved flying, like he always had, but he loved the fact that his best friend was genuinely smiling even more. It wasn’t very often that Sirius smiled like that since he’d run away from his house over the summer.

“Oi!” Sirius complained as he saw James fly by and then turned towards you with a look, with a small smile and a raise of his eyebrows he communicated his plan. 

You nodded mirroring his expression and the two of you turned your brooms towards James, flying side by side to corner him. 

Once by his side, the two of you threw your hands toward James and tried to take the ball from him. Sirius managed to take it and from slightly above shouted, “Whoever gets to the courtyard with the quaffle in their hands wins!” He then threw the ball as far as he could. 

You smiled at that and plummeted towards the direction the quaffle was thrown. You caught it just before it reached the floor. 

James, who was still stunned by having the ball stolen from his hands so quickly, saw the entire thing from his broom “Wow!” he said genuinely surprised “She’s really good.” He then flew towards Sirius, who had already managed to take the ball from your hands. You managed to get your hands on the ball again and flew backwards towards James. 

“Hey, James!” You called the boy, flying upside down above him “Would you mind telling me where the courtyard is?” You asked politely. 

He gave you a pouty look and flew upwards, taking the quaffle back in an unexpected movement. And as he flew ahead turned back with a teasing smile “Sure thing (Y/N), I’ll take you there!” He shouted before flying towards the courtyard with the quaffle itself in his hands. 

“You cheat!” You shouted with a grin and flew behind him, trying to catch up. Sirius was already hovering close to the courtyard and was planning to stop James by flying in front of him, but didn’t realise you were flying so close behind him that the moment the three of you were close enough you all crashed onto each other and started falling a few feet towards the grass. 

“Arresto Momentum!” Someone screamed from the courtyard and the three of you froze for a moment, once you moved again the impulse forced the three of you towards the grass, pulling a couple of metres of it along with the you. The brooms had gone flying in all directions and then, you all ended up tangled against each other. 

“James?!” Asked Lily who had been the one to cast the spell. “What in the bloody– Are you wankers?!” 

The moment you saw her you started laughing, so much so that you didn’t remember the last time you’d laughed so openly, you were almost crying. Sirius and James laughed alongside you, as Lily stared with apprehension. You soon realised you had your head on top of Sirius' back and your feet under James’ torso. When the laughter died out the three of you helped each other stand up. You had scraped your knee and leg, James had scraped his arm and Sirius’ lip was parted. 

Lily started scolding you once you were up “Look at you three! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt!” She said and then gave Sirius a warning look before he made it a joke of his name “You can’t pull (Y/N) into your dangerous games like that!” 

“But she started it,” complained Sirius brattily “She almost threw me off my broom.” 

“That was an accident!” you argued back with your finger raised. “I was gonna catch the ball.” 

“You shouldn’t reverse without looking first,” he said with both of his hands raised in defence “basic flying principles.” 

“But I did look! You appeared out of nowhere.” 

Lily rolled her eyes and took a deep breath as he saw the two of you bicker. Then James started to look around “So who won?” He asked with a frown, to which Lily crossed her arms and stared at him. 

“Well, I had the ball right before we reached the floor,” You said.

“Yeah, but it fell off your hands as soon as you took it from James and bounced back straight to my face,” He said pointing at his parted lip. 

“ALL RIGHT! “ said Lily, shutting everyone up with a clap. “Nobody won, you’re all losers, now, I’m gonna take (Y/N) back to the room so she can put on her uniform before breakfast. I’m sure Marlene should have something to put on her scrape.” 

“What about mine?” Asked James pulling his arm up with a pout. 

“Well you can take care of it yourselves, after all you know full well where the nurses’ office is,” she responded and pulled you towards the castle. 

“Please tell me you will be more careful next time you fly with them?” She said stopping you before you reached the stairs and looking straight into your eyes “I know it can be tempting to play their game but, James and Sirius don’t have a straight sense of danger, I swear they’ve been to the nurse's office over 100 times each.” 

You nodded “I got caught up in the fun,” You said as you started to feel the pain in your leg once the adrenaline faded “Lily, I hadn’t flown like that in, years,” you admitted “I wasn’t thinking when I launched myself behind Potter and then Sirius came out of nowhere,” you told her “I couldn’t break on time.” 

“On quidditch games there’s supervision. Who knows how much worse you’d be if I hadn’t been there!” She said finally exhaling. You looked down and nodded. Then she leaned in closer “But I do believe you won,” she whispered with a small smile motioning for you to follow behind her. 

That left you stunned. Up until that moment, you’d thought Lily was all about following the rules and not having all that much fun, especially since she was a prefect. But that moment proved you wrong. Oh the adventures you’d have with her in the castle, they all awaited you. 

Lily took you back to your dorm where you took a really fast shower and changed into your uniform. Marlene didn’t really have anything for your scrape but Mary did, she wanted to become a Mediwitch so she’d been testing some simple potions back at home and gave you one. The pain had gone in an instant but the area still looked scraped when you pulled your socks over half of it. After that, the four of you walked towards the dining hall together to have breakfast. 

Once you arrived you saw the boys sitting all together on the farther side of the table, along with most people of your year. There was an empty spot next to Remus, who had his head buried in a book, so you sat next to him, Lily plopped down right next to you while Mary and Marlene sat in the front. 

“How are you?” asked Remus as Lily talked about the schedule with Beth and another girl from your year, you looked at him confused and he nodded towards your leg “Heard about the fall, how Lily saved your asses,” he explained. 

“Oh,” you replied “Well, It’s alright, looks a lot worse than it feels,” you said pointing at your leg, “Mary gave me some cream potion ting to put on wherever the pain comes back.” 

“Want some chocolate?” He said, pulling a small bar from his pocket “It always helps when I’m feeling beaten down.” 

You nodded, he broke a piece off and handed it over to you. It was rather soft from his body heat, but you preferred soft chocolate to the hard bars so you enjoyed it quite a lot “How are the boys?” You asked him. 

“Oh don’t worry about them,” he told you “They’re used to being scraped all over, they said they had lots of fun tho, it was nice seeing Sirius happy about morning flying, he usually complains about James forcing him to wake up early and ruining his beauty sleep.” 

“Beauty sleep?” You asked while holding back a laugh “With those words?” 

Remus nodded, smiling too “You’d be surprised by the kind of things he says sometimes, with his posh vocabulary. He’s like a princess.” 

“Well I mean he does look like one,” you agreed and tensed right after, but Remus only nodded while glancing at Sirius. 

Then Lily gently tapped on your forearm, “hurry and finish up,” she said, nodding at your plate, “our first class starts in 15, and we still have to walk there.” You nodded in response and started munching on your toast faster, gulping down your tea along the way to help the bread soften in your mouth. 

When everyone was standing up you grabbed your leftover bread, threw some hazelnut spread on it and bent it from corner to corner, to take it along with you. And then you followed everyone towards your first class.

 In the classroom, a very small teacher, standing on top of a podium, awaited for you to arrive. He introduced himself as Professor Flitwick, but you quickly realised that he had only done it for you since everyone else already knew him. He mentioned something about how in this class you’d learn wordless magic and started to explain the basic concepts of it. You, as the rest of them, took notes of the things the teacher was saying with your quill. 

After Charms, you had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, which had been, in all honesty, rather complicated for you. While you were certain McGonagall was a brilliant teacher, you had a hard time grasping the art of turning teapots into ferrets and ferrets into teapots, and that was without even thinking about the fact that down the line, you’d have to transform people into animals too.  

Your third class was divination, and while you were relatively good at it, you were never really attracted to the art of predicting the future, since you’d had bad experiences in the past. Divination is only fun if you’re guessing good things that will happen, like who will win the Quidditch Championship or small things like “It’ll rain tomorrow.” But when you guess sad or tragic things, people stop liking it, and you along the process, that’s why you had dropped the course back in your old school. Unfortunately, you couldn’t do that here, since it wasn’t an optional class. 

A tall dark skinned professor walked inside the round classroom that stood in the farthest part of the North Tower. He was wearing a long green robe and had a very mysterious aura going around him. “My name is Aurelius Spellman,” he said in a very deep voice “I’ve met some of you before, some of you are in my class for the first time ever, but, be certain, I know each and every single one of you.” You were sitting next to Marlene in that class and you raised your eyebrows at her in a poking manner, she giggled.

“McKinnon, (Y/LN), Would you mind sharing the joke?” He said turning to face you. You instantly sat straighter and shook your head, “I’d like to see if what I’ve heard from Professor Ashbourne is true, she wrote to me all about your talents.” He said, giving you a stern look. 

“I have no talent sir,” you lied, Ashbourne had been your divination teacher back in your older school, she had continuously pressured you to pursue your abilities until you predicted something that made you quit it for good. You did not like Professor Ashbourne one bit. “My predictions are rarely any  accurate, I’m especially bad with classic fortune telling such as Xylomancy and Arithmancy.” 

“What about cards?” He said placing an old Spanish deck on your table. 

You took a deep breath and pushed them back “I thought we were going to follow the curriculum,” you said steadily, “Don’t we have to do runes first?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you “Miss (Y/LN) is -in fact- correct, 10 points for Gryffindor, this first unit we will be looking at the art of reading ancient runes. Please open your books on page 50. Potter, start reading, will you?” You exhaled the moment he started paying attention to James’ reading instead of you. 

At the end of the class, he divided some stacks of runes and handed them over to the students at random. You had to study their meanings and write what the runes would mean when combined with other things. It was really easy since you had already done runes in your old school, but you were thankful you weren’t actually reading someone’s future and had just a random set of runes instead. 

Once the class was over you rushed outside as fast as possible, escaping while some girls walked towards the teacher to ask him about the meaning of some runes, you really didn’t want him to call you regarding the whole Ashbourne thing. You had walked down the stairs so fast you didn’t even realise you’d left everyone behind, you leaned back onto a wall and allowed yourself to rest for a bit, heavy breaths becoming softer the more time passed. 

Remus spotted you from a couple of steps higher as he walked down, and after noticing your distress decided to approach you. “You all right?” He asked softly, as if not to startle you. 

You turned to him and blinked a couple of times before you managed to ground yourself. This was Hogwarts, that was Remus, and you only had to read random runes here, you didn’t need to predict anyone’s future. You nodded in response. “I got wrapped up in my thoughts for a moment,” you excused yourself “I’m not a big fan of divination.”

“I don’t know about your old professor, but Spellman will not pressure you into anything,” he reassured “Besides he already has a star student of his own,” he said nodding towards a small Ravenclaw girl with thick-rimmed glasses who was passing by. 

“Sybill?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows.

Remus nodded, tilting his head towards you as he spoke “last name is Trelawney.” 

“Hold up, that Trelawney?” 

He nodded again and then smiled “Let’s go get some food, I wanna show you something,” he said and started walking downwards. 

You eyed him suspiciously and followed behind. Instead of taking you to the great hall, he took a deviation, walking down a long spiral staircase until you arrived to a long passageway. There seemed to be nothing but a couple of portraits there. Remus approached one of them, used his wand to make a little pear on the painting to move, and all of the sudden, the portrait opened itself like a door would, just like the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. 

There was a rather narrow and short passageway, and finally, you found the kitchens, an enormous room, about the same size as the Great Hall, with tables positioned in the exact same layout. “The elves use the tables to magically take the food from here to the great hall, it’s right above us,” he whispered as he noticed you observing. 

He then kindly asked some of the domestic elves there to pack some food for you. You saw Nimbletwist among them and waved at her. She smiled and waved back. Once the food was ready the elves handed them over to Remus and he thanked them. You followed behind him as he led you outside. When you approached the door of the castle he pulled a small paper plane from the inside pocket of his robe and swished his wand over it. The plane took off towards one of the halls. 

You frowned as you looked at the plane fly off “The boys?” You asked. 

He nodded, “So they bring dessert.” From then he walked out and guided you through the grounds all the way to the lake.

He pulled out a cloth and extended it over the floor “A picnic?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“It’s a wonderful day,” he said with his arms wide open. 

You looked up with a bit of a frown. “It looks like it may rain soon.” 

“This is England love, it always looks like it might rain soon,” he said plopping down on top of the cloth and pulling out some of the food the domestic elves had prepared. 

Which reminded you of something you wanted to ask “Do they just… give food to whoever asks nicely?” You asked. 

“Most of the students don’t know where the kitchens are,” Remus explained. “Peter found them in second year when we were exploring the castle’s secret passages, he befriended the elves, they give us food whenever we ask them now.” He said as he patted the side for you to also sit on the cloth, you complied. Once you sat beside him he pointed at the lake “Whenever I’m feeling down, I like to come here,” he explained “The giant squid comes out every now and then, it’s relaxing to see him swimming around without any worries to perturb him.” 

Sitting next to Remus, with the light watery breeze, you thought back to the day you’d met him, and how he’d looked like a pirate from the cover of a spicy novel to you. He still looked as handsome as one, but he had much more depth than just a hot pirate. Layers, you thought, this boy has so many layers. You turned to look at the lake and saw the giant squid he’d been talking about. It floated aimlessly for a minute and then went back under the water, it really was as peaceful as Remus had described. 

As you stared at the water you grabbed one of the pork pies and started munching on it “Oh, these are incredible,” you said as you took another bite. 

He nodded “They’re Sirius’ favourites, thought you may like them,” he said as he grabbed his own. As the two of you talked about charms and transfiguration James, Sirius and Peter arrived. 

Peter, who was carrying a basket in his hands, sat down next to you, and turned to Remus as he grabbed a pork pie, “You brought her to your spot.”

“Yeah, she seemed like she needed it,” Remus replied with a shrug, “you guys brought the desserts?” 

Sirius and James were quick to sit in front of the three of you, closing the circle completely. “I got some of those meringue pies you really like,” said Sirius, looking at Remus attentively “and chocolate pudding too.” 

James nodded “he used all his charms on the kitchens,” and then he turned to you “By the way, the Gryffindor tryouts will be on Friday at four,” he said giving you a look “I’ll see you there, yeah?” You nodded in response, “But you won’t get any special treatment just because we’re friends,” he said in a warning tone, you laughed. 

“Yeah right, of course, the Gryffindor Team Captain can’t have a bias,” you replied with a smile as you gave him a small nudge and finished your pie. 

“Which class do we have next?” Asked Peter.

“How do you manage to keep your head in the clouds all the time Wormy?” Asked Sirius as he threw himself back, letting his hair sprawl on the grass, looking absolutely carefree as he took a piece of chocolate fudge to his mouth, looking absolutely prince-like, as always. 

“Wormy?” You asked, turning to Peter. 

“It’s a long story,” he exhaled, “short for Wormtail.”

“Wormtail? Now that’s even worse!” You said with a frown. “But you all gave weird names to each other right? Sirius is Pads, and…” you turned to Remus “You’re Moony.”

“Padfoot actually,” corrected Sirius as he took another bite of his fudge and then pointed at James “He’s Prongs.” 

“Wow, and that’s what you call your friends? I wouldn’t wanna be your enemy…” 

Remus chuckled lightly, looking amused and eventually turned to Peter “It’s Herbology?”

“Herbology?” you asked, turning to Remus with a frown. 

“Last class of the day too, why?” 

“I’m… exceptionally good at getting plants to die,” You explained “Theory and memory, that’s no problem, but keeping them alive… Let’s just say… it’s not among my talents.”

“Wormy’s really good,” said James “And Evans, I’m sure they’d give you a hand.” 

“Last year he kept my plant alive,” Sirius said in agreement “And Moony’s, when he was out of it.” 

Remus pulled his sleeve up a bit and checked his watch, which let you see he had some more scars up his arms as well, “All right boys, time to get going, we need to be at the greenhouses in 15.” 

Sirius took a deep breath and sat back down, joining the rest of you as you put everything back in the basket, Peter held it as the boys guided you to Herbology. 

Marlene was the first one to spot you as you were entering the castle, and she called in for Lily, “Hey Lils, she’s not lost, she was with the boys.” 

At that moment you left the boys behind and walked towards them, “you were looking for me?” You asked her when you stood in front of her. 

“Marlene mentioned how uncomfortable you were at divination, we were waiting for you at the great hall and when you didn’t arrive we started to worry, in my first year I got lost rather often, and some parts of the castle can be very dangerous,” she said stressing the last bit. 

You were moved by how caring Lily was of you, you’d met the girl only a day ago and she’d been more worried about you when she’d thought you got lost than your damn parents when you were exploring muggle London for a week, touching your house only for a dash of sleep before disappearing pretty early in the morning, Lily would be a great mother, you thought. “The boys took me for a picnic,” you explained, “that’s why we didn’t go to the great hall.” 

 She nodded “I should’ve guessed, you’ve gotten chummy with them already.” 

“Well, they are fun to hang out with,” you shrugged, “and of course, I already knew Sirius.” 

“You did?” She frowned, to which you nodded. 

“Met him a couple of years ago on a family vacation,” you explained. 

“Hold up! A couple of years ago? Are you talking about Sirius’ vacation in Mexico?” 

You nodded, “yeah, why?”  Lily started laughing 

“Sirius was hung up on you almost the entire year,” Marlene said as she caught up with you “We knew he’d met a mystery girl when Peter accidentally let it out.” 

“Oh, Was he?” You said with a cheeky smile “You girls are just giving me more fuel to tease him.” 

“Please do! He literally had all the girls crying because he kept ignoring their love letters. Throwing them to the fire and eating the treats he was sent. I was tired of girls asking me to introduce them formally.” 

You laughed while shaking your head, “Ahhh.. this is gonna be a fun year.” 

Soon enough, you all arrived at your classroom. The teacher introduced himself as Mr. Folly and started explaining some of the curative benefits of Spellvine and how it was especially helpful for potions to treat pain. You noticed Mary was especially attentive in class, you guessed it had to do with her goal of becoming a Mediwitch. While you wrote down all the special needs and care specificities of Spellvine the teacher handed everyone their own seed. It was going to be the course’s objective to grow said plant from scratch. 

After class, you went back to the common room and Lily decided to show you the way to the library, so you could do research for homework. Inviting you again to her and Remus’ study group, she said the first session would be on Wednesday. Eventually you went back to the Great Hall and you had dinner with everyone and finally, went back to your shared room.  

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A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[annawayne]

I see that you're Ukrainian and I saw two arts with Ukrainian culture. Is there some meanings behind it, references? Could you please tell more? I love seeing artist drawing their culture. It's amazing

OH, anon! You have no idea how it made me happy to know you're curious about my country. And yes, there's a lot to tell, so thank you so much for asking!

I'll try to keep it as short as possible and not turn it into the lecture, so here we go!

So, I have two arts, featuring Ukrainian culture

So, all the jewelry here is traditional Ukrainian jewelry, and not just random. Important note: all Ukrainian culture is about the beauty of layers, in clothes, jewelry, literature, in art.

For example, this one from the left art is called dukach - a medallion, which is supplemented with additional jewelry elements, such as ribbons, bows etc. Annie wears a lion medallion, of course, as a reference to her surname.

Another element, under the dukach, the necklace with the half moons, is called zgrada. The base consists of crosses in two or three rows strung on a string or a dart, in the spaces between them there are tubes or spirals made of brass or copper. Well, the truth is that zgrada can be not only with crosses but also with other elements. Here are half moons that are a reference to another Ukrainian piece of jewelry, lunnitsa. It's a talisman ornament in the form of a crescent with the tips down. Lunnitsa was called to ensure the continuation of the family, it was endowed with the properties of a family talisman, capable of harmonizing the relationship of spouses. It was also believed that the talisman promotes restful sleep, drives away nightmares, and protects the owner from nighttime evil spirits.

Finally, the red necklace that we call namysto. The more layers of necklaces a woman had, the wealthier she was considered. Here Annie wears 10 (!) strings of the namysto, and it's not just a "cheap" gem, it's corals!

Now, about earrings!

Both Armin and Annie wear earrings, and it's the usual shape of the Ukrainian traditional earrings, but we have a small interesting detail here with Armin.

Actually, in both arts Armin is a Cossack - the Ukrainian warrior, who decided against all odds to fight for the independence of Ukraine. All of them were struggling in slavery (not really the "usual" form of slavery but more military like) and under other countries' protectorate, but if we put it VERY simply, they were fed up and started fighting for Ukraine and the freedom of their homeland. That's why they are usually called "people of a free spirit".

And Armin wears earrings in both of his ears and in Cossack culture - it's also the symbol of his status. So, if the Cossask wears it on his left ear - indicates that the Cossack was the only son of his mother; on the right — signals that the man is the last representative of his family; both have a sign that the Cossack is the only child of his parents. So, yeah! Only child Armin!

About the embroidery!

Each region of Ukraine has various embroidery techniques, starting from the color of the threads used and to the ornaments/motifs the shirt is adorned. Both Armin and Annie wear floral and geometry ornaments that are widely used in the central-north part of Ukraine such as the Poltava and Chernihiv regions. But also you can find similar ornaments in Kharkiv, Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, but all of them differ in colors and shapes.

Now, Annie's flower crown or wreath that we call vinok.

Usually, vinok is worn by girls and unmarried women, sometimes, even after marriage, women wear it, accompanied by a head shawl or kerchief. Flowers here aren't also random, but each of them symbolizes something: malva and peony - beauty, hope, the long lives and symbol of home, of Homeland; centaurea - simple and quiet life.

And ending it all, just want to add that the left art with the ornaments in the background - it's an imitation of one of the traditional Ukrainian ornaments that is widely used for the decoration of walls, plates, cups etc; and for the second one - Ukraine has a lot of sunflower fields, so that's landscape is very dear for me.

Thank you once again for asking, and I hope it was interesting!

[beewritesstuff]

Hydrapples Live in Packs

He wanted to retreat from her, needed a chance to think...but it seemed like she needed to retreat too.

Needed some time to think too.

A love story.

(M-rated Kieran/Juliana. Follows cannon events roughly.)

Author's Notes/Cannon:

Blueberry is a university. DLC Kieran is a softmore. He's 19, Juliana is 18. Terapagos disappeared and went back to doing magic crystal things after the Crystal Lake scene.

These two are very cute to me. Yay, college relationships!

Ao3 Link

Chapter 1- Bad Weather

The return trip from Paldea to Blueberry Academy was awkward, Briar's constant chatter filling the uncomfortable space between the others. Lacey latched onto Carmine upon arrival, leading her away to what sounded like an *intense* overnight gossip session.

Kieran yearned with every cell in his body to get away from this place, even though they'd just arrived. It was too loud, too...childish, somehow. He made it three days hiding in his dorm before showing up at Cyrano's office, somehow at the exact same time Juliana did looking just as haggard and sick as he felt. She was the last person he wanted to see, but their united front was an undeniable success. Juliana's final and tearful exclamation that they "-needed a BREAK for God's sake!" at his side overrode any other discussion by students or staff alike.

Finally, they met on the bridge. After a few moments of awkward silence he'd suggested Kitakami, and she'd nodded...and that was that.

The trip home was a frustrated daze of emotions- happiness to be beside her, annoyance that he couldn't hide from her like he wanted, frustration that she was so easy to be near. They'd both immediately passed out on the flight back, the young woman beside him waving some special Paldean league card that got them passage without any further payment at all. The bus trip to Kitakami was equally quiet, both of them watching the pouring sleet at midnight as the driver informed the last two passengers that this was his last trip here until after the storm passed. It was winter in his home town, the temperature dropping quickly, and Kieran's spirits were dropping with them by the second as he realized the predicament he was in.

Juliana was here. With him. When all he'd wanted to do was run from her, get some space after the bizarre week they'd had in Paldea. And judging by the weather forecast on his phone, she'd be there for the foreseeable future....and it was his fault. HE'D suggested Kitakami, after all.

As if knowing his sour thoughts, she was almost silent at his side, speaking only to release her Miraidon. They rode it tandem back to his grandparents, squinting against the weather, where his grandmother greeted her like a long lost granddaughter.

Woefully, Juliana stared at her bag. The contents were soaked from the freezing rain, but his grandmother hushed her and took it from the younger woman's hands. They'd both gone to bed with little more conversation than that, Juliana being hustled into his sister's room.

He woke the next morning feeling sour and irritable, creaky from a night of broken sleep. He went downstairs dodging his grandparents suitcases- suitcases? -to find his grandmother and Juliana seated at the kitchen table.

Three things locked into place in his mind all at once.

First, that his grandparents had previously mentioned plans to go away this week, visiting friends in Unova.

Second, that Juliana was still here, that he'd basically invited her back, had allowed her to come with him even as he retreated from her to lick his wounds...and there was no one to blame but himself.

And third, that she was sitting at their kitchen table, her hair tied back with his grandmother's kerchief, making...kimchi. He leaned against the stairs, baffled with growing irritation as his grandmother blended the seasonings and rattled off household instructions. How to relight the pilot light, which faucets to leave dripping to prevent the pipes from freezing. 'Like she was moving in, for God's sake!'

Juliana was smudged, nodding in rapt attention with a streak of chili down her cheek and a puff of flour dusted across her t-shirt...his t-shirt, clinging to her chest as she giggled politely. His t-shirt??

He must have made a noise then, some sound of indignation (or satisfaction) leaving his chest, because both women turned to look at him. Juliana's eyes got wide and she gave him a nervous smile before turning back to scrub a new head of cabbage with salt. His grandmother, not noticing the girl's sudden anxiety, beckoned him over.

Kieran shook his head. His feet felt awkward and clumsy, unmovable. Finally she flapped a hand and turned back to Juliana. "These men do anything to get out of kitchen work, don't they? I hope you don't mind Kieran, but your sister is too skinny for any of her clothes to fit your lovely friend here. The bus is canceled until after the snow stops, so Juliana can stay here for a few days! We'll be in Castelia by then anyway." Of course. Of course she'd stay. It was unavoidable.

Still, something in the back of his mind glowed with amusement as the lovely friend in question choked, frowning and wringing the cabbage with sudden fervor as a blush crept over her cheeks. "I-I'm sorry Kieran, your grandma really doesn't take no for an answer..."

Her voice was tiny, almost...sad?

Well he didn't like that either. He didn't like any of this damn situation. After his overly dramatic apology at Blueberry, caught up in a moment of victory and fantastical experiences, he'd hoped to have a friendly goodbye and retreat to comfortably sulk for a while. Avoid her for a while. Not have her live in the damn place for three days, sleeping in his sister's bedroom with the door scant inches away from his.

But he didn't like seeing her sad, eyes downcast and lips pressed tight together. It rubbed him in a raw spot. "It's...it's fine. Don't worry about it. You can't help the weather."

"I can stay at the community center-" She was immediately cut off by his grandmother flicking her arm with the towel. "Hmmph, I think not! It's closed for the weather, you'd be the only person in an empty building. It's too dangerous! You'll stay here."

She turned with a grumble, holding her back, and handed him a plate of waffles. "Here, eat something already! She made them for you." She began heading slowly toward the rear of the house. "We'll start loading the truck. Put the cabbage in the fridge to pickle until tomorrow, dear."

Juliana waited until the hall door closed behind the other woman before she looked up at him. "I get it, I do. I...I'll stay at the center once they leave, or I'll make it to the next town and find a place there. I shouldn't have come here with you, I'm sorry...and I'm really sorry about the shirt. Everything I brought is in the dryer.

Suddenly, he could walk again. Five steps brought him beside her, shading her face from the meager morning light. "No. S-stay here. It'll be nicer, you can use my sister's shit. I'm not...I'm not mad at you Julie." Inwardly he smiled to see her brighten slightly at the private nickname, one he'd first used accidentally on that scavenger hunt the year before. His heart was still raw, his fingers still aching where he'd clenched them for the past week and half straight, but none of that was her fault, not really.

"I...okay. I'm glad." She gave him a little smile then. "Kieran, I-"

"Kieran! Come help your grandfather carry these bags, we need to leave before the roads snow shut! We can make it to Shikai Village before 11 if we leave now!"

Whatever she'd been about to say, it died in her chest. She turned back to the kimchi with a sad smile, and Kieran left the room feeling even shittier than he'd felt going in, the plate of waffles still in one hand.

Juliana was polite and friendly, but distant. She disappeared into Carmine's room the moment his grandparents left, and the house felt emptier than if it had just been him there.

He made himself a sandwich and fucked off in his room, playing a game for a while, then scrolling mindlessly through his phone and playing with his pokemon. Carmine and the others had blown up his phone; he ignored most of them, only answering Lacey in a few short messages. Yes, he was fine. Yes, Juliana was with him. No, neither of them got hurt in Paldea. Everything was just...too much back at school.

Arceus bless her, all she said after that was, 'Try to rest, Kieran. You need it."

His Hydrapple was anxious, butting its heads up under his palm and churring in its throat with discontentment. Again and again it turned to the door, whistling soft questions. He could almost hear it asking where Juliana was, why she wasn't here to admire it more? Why wasn't she here with him, safe in his den?

He couldn't even answer the imaginary questions, sad and dark in his heart. After some time it fell asleep, two heads on his leg and the others curled into its beloved apple as he pet it, fighting guilt. He'd pushed this partner so hard, trained with it competitively, harder than any of his other 'mon. And still all it had in its heart for him was affection.

Why did that hurt?

Finally, he dozed for a few restless hours before waking late at night uncomfortable, sweaty, and desperately thirsty. He ripped his shirt and league jacket off all at once, then jerked his bedroom door open. Hydrapple snuffled in the corner, grumbling at the disruption. He whispered an apology as he crept past.

Of course she was up, visible in the dim kitchen light pouring hot water into a mug. He padded down the stairs, shirtless and silent...and the words burst from him before his brain even realized he was speaking.

"I don't get you." His voice sounded flat in the dark kitchen. She stared at him over her cup, startled out of contemplation. Somehow suddenly embarassed, he stalked forward out of the shadow of the staircase, cutting past her to yank the fridge open and grab a Fresh Water. The coolness and acrid minerality helped clear his mind, making him pause and question this strange, fey mood that the late hour and her (wanted, needed) intrusion into his home had brought on. He set it down, took a deep breath, and turned toward her. "I don't get why you can do everything, and I can't."

To his immediate surprise, Juliana scoffed quietly, gripping her mug tight with both hands."You don't know what you're talking about."

He frowned. It was unlike her to push back like this. "Are you serious?"

"Oh sure, I can do everything, yeah. Which one of us has an international league sponsorship?" She huffed out a sad laugh. "Which one of us is attending a specialized university full time, by special invitation? Which one of us is drowning in offer letters, endorsements, apprenticeship requests, god! The things your sister has told me about you! You're on track to be a celebrity!"

He blinked in the face of her sudden frustration. She turned away then, pressing her back to the counter, but not before he saw tears rise in her eyes. She stared at the mug like she was angry with it. "Yeah the stupid ogre pokemon wanted to come with me, I don't know why. Yeah I beat you one time in a battle, barely! But you-you..."

Her breath caught slightly in her chest. "When I got to Blueberry, you told me to do my best...and I hadn't seen you in a year." Her voice cracked. "Maybe I wanted to fucking impress you!"

"Why would you want to impress me?!" It was the most honest question he'd ever asked her, pulled from the deepest, nastiest feelings about himself in the bottom of his heart.

"Because I LIKE you!"

Oh.

Oh.

It was such a juvenile way to say it; her jaw was already working, she was already stuttering to try to backtrack, or fix what she'd said. But the meaning was obvious enough.

Something posessed him then, he'd swear it. Kieran moved without thinking, walking over and gently taking the mug from her hands. Sitting it down, he turned and fenced her in against the counter, the dull orange glow of a streetlight outlining the window behind her and the frizzes of hair escaping around her face. They were so close he could hear her breathing, could feel the warmth of her body in front of his. They'd sat close many times during the first adventures in Kitakami, warming up into close friends before the ogre situation had reached its critical point.

This felt different.

A car drove by, a last brave soul as the snow thickened, and he watched her eye fall across his chest and down to his bare arms as its headlights passed over his form. A deep part of his brain chortled as she lingered over the hard-earned muscle; it had been a struggle to add what little bulk was there to his slim form. Getting up even earlier than his earliest classes to work out, drinking whatever disgusting pre-workout Drayton had ordered each week...it was all worth it in this moment, the shadows working to his advantage. He wanted to say something but his tongue was tied, brain shorted out as all the negativity of the last week, the last year, raged against sudden butterflies in his belly.

Juliana was visibly nervous, her gaze finally lifting to track over his face, his hair, and down to his chest. Then quickly enough that he flinched, she reached out to press her hand to his sternum, her fingers splayed out. She chewed her lip, then glanced up at him only a moment before looking away again. "I...don't like how your sister treats you." Her hand stayed, as warm and soft as her voice. "I don't really like how she talks to you either."

The non sequitur threw him for a loop, drawing out honesty. "I don't really like it either." Juliana sighed, her hand shifting up to his shoulder, holding onto him there as if to keep him close. "I think she makes you feel a lot smaller than you are. I think you don't see yourself clearly."

He could only nod. "P-probably true."

She looked up into his eyes, shifting to wrap both arms around the back of his neck as her eyes sparkled. "I really missed you Kieran."

He couldn't help but kiss her. It was gentle, Kieran going in again and again for more and more sips against her lips, a wordless way for him to express the sudden blooming in his chest as every frustrated emotion and bitter memory shifted. The feeling of her mouth opening under his was the missing piece, her soft exhale the culmination of what had drawn him back to her again and again and again. He'd slept with a few other girls and none of them compared to how it enflamed him when her tongue touched softly to his. Breaking away for a second, panting hard with the sensation of her gasps and little noises against his lips, she moaned breathily as he let his kiss fall on her jaw, then down her neck. "I wanted to kiss you at the festival. I was going to..."

"You should have." He didn't recognize his own voice, low as it was in his chest as he leaned back to admire her, stroking his hands down her waist as she thoughtlessly squeezed at his shoulders, his arms. Feeling the hardness there. "I wanted you to. Even then."

"Even then." She repeated it, a wondering smile on her lips as she leaned in to kiss him again. The rollercoaster of emotions made him feel half-mad and he licked into her mouth, sliding his tongue along hers until she mewed. Her breath came hard when he let his grip fall to squeeze her ass, the trust he had for her in battle carrying over now- she'd stop him without anger if he did something she didn't want.

Bold hands fell to trace his chest, dipping lower and lower until they grazed his waistband. She broke away again, gasping, and the sound made him achingly, immediately hard. "Is this... too sudden for you? Are we okay?" Her voice was small, and the questions made him smile. He nodded, pressing his nose to her temple. "We're okay. And I really missed you too. We...-" He hesitated, searching for the words. "We should have seen each other before this."

He'd have stayed by her side, fought to have her at Blueberry with every ounce of influence he could summon, if he'd known. They could have trained together, learned together. This all could have been left behind, the stupid ogre and the stupid turtle and everything dim in the presence of the person he clicked with better than anyone else in the world. It was affection and desire and friendship and more all at once, the emotions finally slotting into place like they'd been waiting for him to realize them.

She turned to kiss his cheek. "I thought about staying over with you." Her eyes were bright, a flush riding high in her cheeks. Her nipples poked out hard from the thin fabric of his t-shirt, brushing his bare chest. "I thought about texting you almost every day, or asking you to come stay with me, I have a dorm apartment..."

"I was so stupid Julie." It felt good to say it, in a way. "We could have been...this...all along." He raised a hand to rest lightly over her breast, giving her room to pull back if she wanted to. To his delight she leaned forward with a coo, pressing impossible softness into his palm. "I'm really glad I came back here with you, Kieran."

What else could he do in the face of her affection but touch her? He plucked at her nipple, drawing an immediate gasp. His mouth was practically watering for it, and for the way her hips ground forward into his. Desire made him bold. "B-baby do...do you want to go to bed?"

Her answering smile at the pet name and the question was as brilliant as it was smoldering. "Yes please."

[olovelymoon-slow-answers]

We Are Seven

In this poem by William Wordsworth, written in 1793 and published years later in the Lyrical Ballads (1798), the poet dialogues with a little girl who insists that, though two of her siblings are now dead, thay should be counted as part of the family. It is a delicate poem about loss and the strenght of love, which trascends even death. Before you read the poem, I ask you to think about all the people in the world who might feel like this little girl. The ongoing wars and genocides keep causing countless losses of innocents. Here on tumbrl you'll be able to find vetted fundraisers to help some of these people from Palestine, Congo and Sudan: check out the accounts of @/nabulsi, @/stil-lindigo, @/el-shab-hussein and @/90-ghost, as well as the website https://gazafunds.com/

And now, enjoy your read:

《A simple Child,

That lightly draws its breath,

And feels its life in every limb,

What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:

She was eight years old, she said;

Her hair was thick with many a curl

That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,

And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;

—Her beauty made me glad.

“Sisters and brothers, little Maid,

How many may you be?”

“How many? Seven in all,” she said,

And wondering looked at me.

“And where are they? I pray you tell.”

She answered, “Seven are we;

And two of us at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

“Two of us in the church-yard lie,My sister and my brother;

And, in the church-yard cottage,

I Dwell near them with my mother.”

“You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be.”

Then did the little Maid reply,

“Seven boys and girls are we;

Two of us in the church-yard lie,

Beneath the church-yard tree.”

“You run about, my little Maid,

Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the church-yard laid,

Then ye are only five.”

“Their graves are green, they may be seen,”

The little Maid replied,

“Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door,

And they are side by side.

“My stockings there I often knit,

My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,

And sing a song to them.

“And often after sun-set, Sir,

When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

“The first that died was sister Jane;

In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

“So in the church-yard she was laid;

And, when the grass was dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

“And when the ground was white with snow,

And I could run and slide,

My brother John was forced to go,

And he lies by her side.”

“How many are you, then,” said I,

“If they two are in heaven?”

Quick was the little Maid’s reply,

“O Master! we are seven.”

“But they are dead; those two are dead!

Their spirits are in heaven!”

’Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,

And said, “Nay, we are seven!”》

[eddysocs]

The Storycrafter — Merlin x OC

Summary: With Nella having read all the books she can get her hands on, Merlin takes it upon himself to craft some new, magical tales for her.

Word Count: 787

Warnings: Pure fluff

Nella stood frowning at the bookshelves, figuring if she stared hard enough perhaps she’d find a book whose spine she had not yet cracked open. She’d read every novel available to her, and even a few of the denser academic volumes that had done nothing but collect dust for years, and yet she still sought more.

Merlin had noticed Nella rifling through the castle's book selection and the carts of books from local merchants so often that it was strange when he came across a book and it was not in Nella's hand. Yet when he’d seen her of late, there was no book in sight, not in her hand, not tucked under her arm, nowhere he’d usually spot one. She seemed in good enough spirits that he didn’t want to pry, but it’s something he’d keep an eye on.

"I knitted you a new kerchief," she told him one day out of the blue, and sure enough, a red hand stitched kerchief was held out to him, not poorly made, but not up to the skill level of a more advanced craftsman. That’s when he realized this was a new hobby of hers, something that had replaced her voracious love for reading. "It’s for the winter months. Heavier," she explained when he’d spent too long staring dumbfoundedly at it.

"Right," Merlin finally said, taking the kerchief from her and running his fingers over it. "Very warm, thank you." He wanted to ask about her lack of a book, but he’d already bumbled this thoughtful gesture of hers, so he’d probably only make things worse. Perhaps he’d try again in a few days.

A few days passed and Nella remained without a book. No knitting this time, though. Instead, he spotted several brushes in her possession. Another new hobby? She didn’t look pleased. Maybe she’d run out of books, he surmised. Despite Camelot's wealth, it had fairly little works of literature from outside its own castle walls. He could retrieve more for her, only he didn’t know where to find them if not in Camelot. So if he couldn’t find them, maybe he could…

The moment he got back to Gaius, he rifled through the hidden selection of magic books that the court physician had hoarded over the years. Surely something would lead to a spell for making books. There were things for creativity, crafting, but nothing specific to what he was after. Maybe with a little ingenuity he’d be able to make it work.

Merlin didn’t sleep that night, working long into the hours approaching dawn before he’d finally managed to accomplish the task he’d set himself. By daybreak, he’d crafted Nella a dozen more books to read. Rushing through the castle's halls with renewed vigor, despite his sleepless night, Merlin bustled along with a stack of carefully crafted books in his hands, nearly dropping the pile several times as he made his way to Nella's usual route.

"Nella," he called after her the moment he spotted her.

Nella turned quickly, having been startled by the sudden volume in which her name had been shouted. Her pale blue linen skirt twirled around her legs as she took in the sight of Merlin, or rather the stack of books hiding Merlin from her view. "Are those— where did you get these?"

Her hands were tracing the spines of the newly created novels before she’d even bothered to find his face behind the stack. "I made them," Merlin responded.

"Made them? You did not write twelve different books overnight and have time to bind them."

"No, not by hand…"

"You mean you made these with your—" she hardly needed to finish the sentence and, out in the open, she dared not.

"For you. I noticed you hadn’t had any new books in a while and it didn’t feel right seeing you without one."

Nella laughed. "So you made me twelve?"

"I didn’t have time for more. Not yet. But I’m getting the hang of it."

"Merlin, this is really too kind of you. Using your…gift to make me reading material is truly asking too much."

"You didn’t ask, though. I just wanted to." This last statement was punctuated with a long yawn and Nella realized Merlin must have been at this all night. Nella took it upon herself to grab half of the stack from Merlin's tired arms and motioned him to follow her.

"Help me get these home and I’ll make your excuses to Arthur so you can rest." Merlin opened his mouth to interject, but Nella already knew what he was going to say. "Something other than the tavern."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you, Merlin. I promise I’ll do my best to make these last."

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile

Nella Landon: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @axelauriantswp

[aelloblu]

Sailor Regulus

╔═════ ∘◦⛧ﾐ◦∘ ══════╗

 Seishin Wantanabe / Sailor Regulus

╚═════ ∘◦ ミ⛧ ◦∘ ═════╝

:Mission:

Seishin was just an ordinary kid going to Mugan Academy. She’s trying to get to grips with highschool bullies, algebra and how to wear a skirt when suddenly a mysterious force wants her dead. 

Turns out she’s Sailor Regulus, reincarnation of a warrior princess and last of the Leo’s Alliance. Fortunately she has the Inners to teach her, and she’ll need all the help she can get. Her forefathers protected the mysterious Infinite Lion Armor but one by one they were struck down by the brutal legionnaire Alcides, and he will not let some puny princess stand between him and immortality.  

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Civilian Form

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

:Name & Meaning:

Although he was born with the name Yurei, meaning ‘ghost’, it began to fit less and less until highschool was a chance to reinvent herself. She chose the name Seishin, a feminine name meaning ‘spirit’. Her surname Wantanabe means ‘transition’ or ‘to cross’ .

:Age & Birthday:

Born on the 2nd of August, she’s fifteen and a Leo.

:Appearance:

Seishin stands quite tall for her age at 5’6 with a lanky figure she tries to hide behind various fashions. She’s always felt more comfortable with long hair, letting it fall in a silky veil to her waist with a brushed fringe and two long ribbons framing her face. Her eyes are a sapphire blue and her skin is slightly tanned with a long scar running down her right shoulder blade, red and raised and of unknown origin.

Although she’s still exploring her tastes, Seishin chooses cute and spunky fashion. She loves to accessorise with gloves and belts and colourful kerchiefs! Her jewellery box is filled with necklaces and dangling earrings. She is especially drawn to glittering, cut stones which she brings out at every chance.

:Nationality

It means that although she’s practically an adult she has to relearn everything. She’s nearly fluent in the language but her knowledge of manners and customs still requires polish. 

:Personality:

On top of transitioning to a female, moving to a new country and joining a new school, Seishin learns she’s a star princess sworn to fight evil. All these alien experiences have made her desperate to fit in and somewhat gullible, but it also makes her much more empathetic to the adversity of others.  Her loyalty to those who support her is unwavering and her trust in them unshakable.  She’s sensitive, easily distracted and her sensitivity to the opinions of others means she may suddenly need space and quiet to reassure herself.

This need to please makes Regulus a strong fighter and she doesn’t want to let her new teammates down. She idolises Sailor Moon and Sailor Venus as protectors both strong and feminine. She wants to impress them but as an amateur senshi she's still learning the tricks of the trade and harnessing her own growing powers. When she gets too excited her powers are prone to friendly fire which is so embarrassing! She wants them to know that she can protect them too and be a guardian senshi in her own right so she’ll try to track down her crown on her own. 

:Likes:

English essays, Fridays, winter, thunderstorms, fish and chips and apple juice.

:Dislikes:

Snakes and spiders. She once had a bad experience with a huntsman and never forgot it. 

:School: 

Seishin is in the tenth grade of Mugan Academy because of her father’s connections. She has inherited his love of computers, but her favourite class is Japanese where she can explore the poetry and literature of her new home. She also appreciates history as she finds the stories useful for her writing. She’s also very athletic and was recruited for Mugan’s basketball team and slam dunks like a pro.

:Hobbies:

Since transitioning she’s been developing her own look. She loves thrifting and trying new styles, from retro to loli to visual kei! Every day and every shop is filled with possibilities! She enjoys escapism, whether it is through her videogames or her creative writing. She loves to disappear inside her own worlds of magic and aliens and alternate dimensions. Little did she know she’d get first hand experience.

:Family: 

Seishin’s family has always been open and understanding, so the decision to come out was welcomed with her parent’s support. 

Her father Makuri (to do something too much) Wantanabe is an exceptional computer programmer and businessman but also loving and supportive of his family. He thought nothing of following his wife Callwen- who took the name Hinaki (bright) when she immigrated back to her Tokyo. She is kind and accepting and has tried to pass on these virtues to her two daughters.

Unfortunately it hasn’t worked. Seishin’s older sister Akuru (black jewel) resents leaving London. Despite her innocent face she has become cruel, taking her frustrations out on Seishin in violent and vindictive ways.

:Relationships:

:Akira Saito: 

Akira is a girl that enjoys singing and drawing and has a challenging history with personal demons, but through singing and drawing, she finds her escape from the world. For a while, they made themselves feel like all would be okay. She's also grown very fond of Seishin. The kindness she shows is very much needed, and in return, she loves having Seishin as a model for her. Yet one drawing from before she met Seishin is too eerily close to a vision she's seen. 

:Chiyo Bushida: 

Chiyo is a girl from a family that prides itself on honesty, integrity and hard work, coming from a family line that started from next to nothing, constantly swearing to keep remembering the values told by their great grandparents. She enjoys physical activities during the sports curriculums, especially full-contact sports that require physical strength and skill. They have grown close to each other with a friendly rivalry on the basketball court. 

:Alexa Williams: 

An American transfer student is also new to the school and refuses to accept the traditions compared to what she's used to in the States. She’s snobbish and thinks highly of only herself and her family. Due to this, she thinks everyone is a worm compared to her. She firmly believes in tradition and dislikes… Deviations. Seishin has become a favourite target because she knows something is off with that girl. Something is unnatural in how she carries herself and how she walks. She will expose it to the whole world and show everyone what a weirdo she truly is! 

:Sexual Orientation: 

Seishin is still figuring it out, finding a few guys and girls in her class that she's finding herself pulled towards, though she's rather obvious to queues and hints dropped by friends and the people she's been speaking wit. But out of all the people she's met there's a certain blunette who is clever and adorable.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Sailor Regulus

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

:Name:

Sailor Regulus

:Guardian Starseed:

She holds the starseed for the only large planetary body in the Regulus system which takes its name from its star. It is a dry planet, prone to boom and bust seasons, covered by various arid biomes and mysteriously pure wellsprings.  

There are labyrinthine red sand dunes that tower and shift in cool breezes. And vast salt pans claimed by ancient bequeathed by transitory seas, landlocked places of death and hopelessness. The creatures that live there are strange, opportunistic scavengers. 

Much of its population is nomadic, and palm groves sprouting from river wadis provide respite along migration routes but it is the permanent oasis that are the jewels of civilization.  Lying above boundless aquifers, they grow plants like apricots, dates, figs, and olives. Their markets weave brightly woven cotton and trade lustrous opal, tanzanite, garnet, emerald and diamond.

:Realm of Influence:

Much of her powers come from her totem symbol, the lion. It represents family, courage and protection. 

:Past Life:

In the depths of space, many aeons ago was King Nemea, the Lion Majesty. He was rumoured to be immortal due to his impenetrable armour and powerful weapons. He would fight the agents of Chaos, shining as a beacon of hope as golden as the sun.

He doted on his five daughters and he vowed he would always protect them. When they were married he gave each of them an heirloom to pass down through the generations. Denebola his breastplate, Subra his pauldrons, Chort his cuirass, Zosma his girdle, Algieba his greaves and Regulus his crown to unite them. Time passed and history vanished into legend. 

Until one day a ferociously cruel mercenary named Alcides consulted the Oracle of Ophiuchus; The Pythoness. He yearned for immortality and she told him of the renowned armour of the Lion Majesty. He and his legionaries (Achilles, a powerful, arrogant warrior. Perseus, a brilliant strategist. Orpheus, an enchanting musician. And Aeneus, alluring beauty.) struck down each of the royal families of the Leo Alliance. With each fallen star he took their Artefact, bringing him closer to the all powerful, undying conqueror he knew was his destiny.   

The King Othniel (Lion of Kings) and Queen Ariel (Lion of God) of Regulus knew of his approach and feared for their daughter. They used the Silver Millennium Cotillion as an excuse to smuggle Princess Leocadia (Splendid Brightness of the Lion) and her guard Sapphire out of the system, leaving behind her parents and sisters. There she was briefly introduced to Silver Queen Serenity, her daughter and the inner princesses who made her feel at home. 

The peace was short-lived as the Moon Kingdom was struck down. Sailor Regulus was separated from the senshi and although she fought valiantly, she also lost her life.  She was also reincarnated, although perhaps not as intended.

However Grand Regis Alcedes hasn’t given up. With five of the six artefacts he has only aged ten years of the one thousand , but it is ten years he will make the heir of Nemea regret. After years of searching he has finally found the key to life eternal and nothing. Will stand in his way. 

:Allies/Team Mates:

Leo Senshi: 

Long ago it was expected Sailor Regulus would replace her father as the guardian of Regulus when she came of age and part of that responsibility would be leading the senshi of the Leo Alliance.

In his quest for the Artefacts, it is thought that the Great King Alcedes killed them and their starseeds returned to the Galaxy Cauldron. It is unknown if they have reincarnated but likely they would be drawn to the remaining heir.

Sailor Denebola - MIA

Sailor Subra - MIA

Sailor Chort - MIA

Sailor Zosma - MIA

Sailor Algieba - MIA

Inners: 

Although only a year younger than the Inners, Regulus is the baby of the senshi still finding her feet. Venus is a wonderful leader and teacher, as is Artemis. Together they patrol the night searching for leads. However she feels herself warm and flustered as she gets to know Sailor Mercury. 

Spirit Guide:

When King Othniel sent his daughter to the Silver Millennium Cotillion he sent her personal guard, Captain Saphira with her. She died defending Princess Leocadia and when she was reincarnated on Earth she vowed she would never fail her again.

Captain Saphira belongs to the planet Hund, a species like the Mauese have the ability to switch between canine and human form. They are well appreciated across the galaxy for their loyalty and determination. Captain Saphira’s canine form bears a striking resemblance to Earth’s golden retrievers. Unfortunately since reincarnating she hasn’t been able to transform back into her human form. 

Saphira has a sisterly protection of Seishin, and is often all that stands between her and Akura’s bullying. 

Know your enemy, know your enemy and you know the key to victory. She spends a lot of time with Sailor Mercury researching Alcedes past conquests to fortify their team for the coming fight. She believes in preparation and cringes at Sailor Regulus’s rash behaviour in battle.

:Henshin Item: 

Given to her in a flash of light by her bodyguard Saphira, she received the Ring of Regulus. Although she was expected to have her own transformation item forged when she came of age, there was no time. King Othniel pressed his own ring, that which transformed him into the warrior Lion Heart, into her palm as she left for the Silver Millenium. 

It is a golden ring with a sapphire clenched in the jaws of a maned lion’s head. The sapphire is inscribed with the symbol of Leo. It’s a little loose but Seisen treasures it as a link to her past. 

:Henshin Phrase:

Seishen reaches to the sky with her hand aloft and ring finger gleaming. She shouts "Leo! Regulus! Give me strength!" 

Bright blue flames erupt from the sapphire, coalescing into the the form of a lion’s head behind her before dissolving in tongues of fire. They lick out, wrapping around her body to form her bodice and skirt. They tangle with her arms and legs to reveal her heels and gloves. Finally the head roars again, blowing her hair in turmoil and on her brow gleams her symbol before forming a teardrop shaped sapphire burning with an inner fire. 

The sapphire flames whirling around her body recede back into the lion which bellows one more time as Sailor Regulus poses and prepares to attack. 

:Symbol:

:Guardian Challenge:

“Arising for the fires of battle, I am the lion hearted Sailor Regulus and with pride I’ll protect! Surrender now or face my wrath!”

:Guardian Fuku:

Sailor Regulus is wilder than her civilian counterpart. Her body is distinctly feminine, with breasts and flaring hips. Her silky hair is long and unruly, an untamed mane that flies around her in battle. Her scruffy fringe hides that she doesn’t have a tiara, but a teardrop shaped sapphire between her eyes that glows and flashes as she becomes more emotional.

With white signalling calm and cool, blue signalifying feelings of sorrow, pink flustered, red overwhelming rage and black.

Her sailor colour is midnight blue with gold and white trim in a lattice edge. Her bodice is two layered, black with wite over, trimmed in gold with golden hip guards. Her skirt is also two layered, pleated white with an overlay of midnight blue, lighter and more flowing. Her blueblack gloves have metallic rings with tufted white fur. She wears white open toed sandals just over her ankles. 

:Weapon:

Her ancestral weapon is the Lion Rampant, a urumi or whipsword that would lash like claws. 

:Attacks:

Regulus Roaring Rush

Regulus crosses her arms across her chest before flinging them wide with a guttural scream. Behind her the majestic maned lion head lets out a deafening roar, stunning the enemy and sending them flying in furious winds. 

Regulus Claw Crush

Regulus swipes her claw like fingers through the air and spectral claws maul the enemy again and again.  

Regulus Lion’s Pride

Regulus stands tall, her body beginning to glow as one by one five giant phantasmic lions begin to burn with silver auras. With the final word they lunge to destroy the enemy. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Trivia

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Lei motif: Ed Sheeran - Celestial

Transformation Theme:  Head Of The Table

Battle Music: Let's Light It Up 

[sonofthedunes]

belatedly in honor of mark’s birthday, a collection of glimpses into luke celebrating the day of his own birth with his favorite girl. featuring my oc andrie (and perhaps some other galactic friends). a little suggestive at points, but still safe for work.

the last of life, for which the first was made

0 ABY. 19 years old.

When Aunt Beru calls Luke to the front entrance of the homestead, he hurries there with trepidation-fully expecting a lecture from Uncle Owen about not cleaning the vaporators thoroughly enough that morning.

Instead, he finds a much more welcome sight: a girl his own age holding a small folded cloth, shrewd blue eyes peering out from the shawl loosely wrapped around her head and shoulders. “Hello, stranger,” she smiles. “Heard it was someone’s birthday around here.”

“Andrie!” Luke grins, clambering up the steps for a brief hug. “I thought I wouldn’t see you today.”

“So did I, but Garit-“ Andrie nods back toward her uncle, waiting by their landspeeder-“managed to persuade Grandmama that I should be able to deliver my best wishes to my friend…” The cloth is pressed into his hands. “And give him this.”

Curious, Luke unfurls the gift, revealing a cotton pocket kerchief. Its starched white surface is decorated only by a sprig of desert sage and funnel flowers in the lower right corner; the plants have been meticulously (if a bit clumsily) hand-stitched. “Oh, how lovely!” exclaims Beru, admiring it over her nephew’s shoulder. “Did you make this yourself, Andrie?”

“I did, ma’am, and hated every minute,” Andrie smiles. She lightly punches Luke on the arm. “It’s a good thing he’s worth it.”

Luke scowls as he refolds the kerchief and tucks it into the hidden pocket inside his tunic. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he replies sardonically-then his voice softens into something more sincere. “Thanks, though. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” answers Andrie, regarding Luke with the sort of affection almost no one else does. The grin returns to his own face like sunlight breaking through clouds…and neither teen notices their respective guardians exchange a meaningful glance behind their backs.

Andrie and Garit decline Luke and Beru’s invitation to stay for refreshments. They’re expected back at the Mykarrah homestead as soon as possible; Zaria’s list of duties for her granddaughter won’t complete itself. Just before they set off, Garit shakes Luke’s hand. “Happy birthday, Skywalker,” he says genially. “Hope it’s been a good one.”

“Thank you, sir. It has.” Luke has learned his courtesies well, no matter what the older Mykarrah women believe. He lingers to watch the landspeeder depart, fingers unconsciously resting over his chest-and the hidden pocket containing the kerchief. It will be carried with him to work most days, dabbed over his sweaty face and neck countless times, with each pat reminding him that a wonderful girl cared enough to make it for him. Eventually it will be destroyed when the Imperials storm the farm, burned with everything else…but Luke cherishes its memory for the rest of his days.

~~

2 ABY. 21 years old.

To celebrate the birthdays of both their dashing Rogue Squadron commander and courageous princess (born on exactly the same day! what a coincidence!), several of the X-wing pilots have decided to throw a party. It’s not a high-class affair: the booze is homemade and nearly corrosive, the only food slightly stale ration biscuits, and the venue the base’s makeshift mess hall. But when friends and comrades alike are gathered in good spirits, music blasting, repeatedly toasting the guests of honor with shouts of unabashed joy, none of that seems to matter much.

Seated with his closest companions, Luke absorbs the chatty chaos around him in a happy daze. He hasn’t been this tipsy in a long time-Han’s pushed perhaps a little more jet fuel on him than he should. The smuggler is currently focused on trying to charm Leia into dancing with him, and judging by her eye rolling he isn’t having much success. Those two, Luke thinks fondly, swirling the alcohol in his nearly-empty cup.

“Want a refill, starboy?” Andrie questions over the music, her words slightly slurred. His girlfriend’s high cheekbones are stained with sunfire, a few strands of her coppery hair escaping from their pinned knot. She looks very pretty.

“Nah. Any more, I’ll sleep right through drills tomorrow.”

“They’d probably let you, just this once. You’re an adult now, you know.” Andrie shifts a bit closer to him on the bench, arm slinging around his shoulders. “How does it feel?”

“Wait three weeks and you’ll find out,” Luke shoots back, referencing Andrie’s own upcoming birthday.

Her tongue pokes out at him. “Har har, hotshot.” Across the hall, a shout echoes as Hobbie has apparently won a fierce game of sabacc. Startled by the noise, the pair jump in their seats, which brings on a fit of giggles and apparently reminds Andrie: “Oh! You want your present now?”

Luke’s eyebrows zoom toward his hairline. If she means the kind of gift he received last year...“Right now?”

“Not that one, you dope!” she protests in mock-horror. “That one’s for later. This one!” Digging in her vest pocket, she produces a roughly creased square of brown flimsi. “Here.”

Inside lies a smallish helmet decal, shaped like a cresting ocean wave and colored cobalt blue with a white frothy crown. “So you can take a bit of me into space with you,” his sea-eyed girl explains. “If you want.”

His lips curve upward slowly. “You remember Manaan too.”

“Seeing the ocean for the first time with you…I’ll never forget that.” She kisses his jaw. “Happy birthday, Luke.”

Stowing the decal in his own pocket, the birthday boy pulls her closer. “So…how about my other present?” he murmurs cheekily into her ear.

She chuckles low, sending a delicious shiver up his spine. “You’re unbelievable. Later, I said. Let me enjoy some activities where I don’t have to be on my knees first.”

~~

21 ABY. 40 years old.

A hush has descended over their corner of Ossus as evening darkens. Insects chirrup in the forest surrounding the temple; the moon and stars glitter overhead. Padawans are sleeping, or pretending to be, in their individual huts after a long day of training. And in their hut, Luke and his wife quietly enjoy a glass of Akivan liqueur (a gift from Han and Leia) as he wonders: “Forty. How am I forty? Could’ve sworn that just yesterday I was a kid whining about power converters.”

Andrie sips at the floral purple liquid and shakes her head. “Time comes for all of us, Luke.”

“Not you,” insists Luke, eyes studying her intently in the lamplight. “You’re every bit as beautiful as the day I first came to your farm.”

“Oh, stop! Sometimes you’re worse than Lando,” she smirks. “And it’s your birthday-I should be the one complimenting you.”

He sets down his glass and leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve them much,” he admits, shrugging ruefully. Andrie can sense he means it to some extent-but he’s also playing up his melancholy, indicating that perhaps, if she so wishes, she could persuade him otherwise.

And why wouldn’t she, on today of all days? “Well, I disagree,” she begins, rising to her feet. “I think you should be told that you’re kind, and gentle, and compassionate. You’re powerful, but you never use that power to destroy unless you have no other choice.” As Andrie lists these qualities, she walks around the table to Luke. “You demand so much of our students, but you do it because you see their potential. You are a great Jedi Master. You’re a loyal friend, and a caring brother, and our nephew admires you.” Having reached his chair, she leans over him and his gaze flicks in her direction. “And you’re a wonderful husband…” A slender hand ghosts over his close-cropped beard. “And if I may say so, incredibly fucking sexy.”

Luke exhales a long slow breath, as much from her words as her touch traveling over his neck, his chest, lower still. “Andrie…”

“Hm?” she hums, pausing at his belt buckle.

In one swift motion, he sits upright again and pulls her onto his lap. As she exclaims in delighted surprise, he presses a kiss to the hollow of her throat, a grunt escaping him as he grinds his awakening arousal against her. “You really know how to make a guy feel special,” he manages, voice already rough with desire.

Andrie responds with a choked mewl, hands fisting in his hair and forcing him to make eye contact. “Happy birthday, my love,” she smiles before their lips meet, and part. His tongue slides in, warm and wet and insistent; his flesh hand glides up her ribs to cup her breast, thumb running over the nipple as it hardens even through the layers of her robes. Pelvises stir and stutter, searching for friction. Husband and wife sigh into each other’s mouths, soft as the breeze stirring the leaves outside. Whether they make it to the bed is debatable-but they know for sure that the Solos will be receiving a glowing thank-you note for that Akivan liqueur.

~~

35 ABY. 54 years old.

“Leia’s asking for you,” Andrie informs him, standing at the door to his quarters. (His, not their. Neither of them is ready for that yet.) “Poe’s organizing a little birthday toast for you two and she-“

“No.” Realizing how harsh that must sound, Luke hastily adds, “Thank you. I’d rather not.” The matter thus settled, he returns to the broken radio transmitter he was inspecting. Tinkering with things has always helped keep him calm and focused.

But Andrie doesn’t leave him alone, as he’d prefer. Crossing her arms, she frowns and says, “Don’t want them goggling at you like a zoo animal, huh?”

“…I guess that’s one way of putting it,” he acknowledges, placing the transmitter aside for the moment. Sitting on his bunk, Luke regards his wife as she fixes her eyes right back on him. The floor space between them might as well be a chasm. Six years of separation, of outright abandonment and deep wells of anger and pain, don’t simply vanish because an enemy is defeated. Their Force signatures dance so cautiously around each other, their past sinuous twining only an echo. The love remains, but the rest must be rebuilt…and if Luke could have any birthday wish fulfilled, that would be his choice.

And Andrie wants this too, he can feel it. But now isn’t the time to begin yet another hashing out. They stare in silence for another heartbeat before she relents, “All right, I’ll tell her. But before I go, can I give you something?”

He nods, fairly certain he’d requested no gifts of any kind today. Stepping into the simply furnished room, Andrie removes a cloth pouch from her jacket and places it in his outstretched palm. “I kept this,” she explains, “all the time you were gone. Almost didn’t…thought about burning it a few times. But I just couldn’t. It meant too much.”

Loosening the pouch strings, Luke turns the bag over and shakes out a braided leather cord. It is worn and fraying with age, its rich brown color now faded, but he’d recognize it anywhere. He hasn’t seen it since… “Stars,” he breathes, threading it through his fingers. “You want me to have this?”

“I do.”

“But why? I took everything this cord stands for and disgraced it. I was horrible to you. I-“ He stops himself cold before he truly careens down the shame spiral. “I can’t accept this.”

Andrie lowers herself onto the mattress and rests a comforting hand on his back. “You can keep it, but I want it to belong to both of us again. This is a symbol of what we promised each other on Endor. Our hearts and our lives, bound together in the living Force…”

“And what’s vowed in the Force can’t be undone,” he finishes. “I know. I don’t want to undo it.” He sighs heavily, then turns to face Andrie. “But I don’t think I’m worthy of this yet. I need more time.”

He half expects that famous Mykarrah temper to lash out at him then, for her to bite his head off like a rampaging rancor. But they are not the headstrong desert children that joined the Rebellion so many years ago. They have learned patience. They have endured horrors. And somehow, through everything, they have loved with a fierceness that still shocks him. She takes the cord from him and replaces it in its pouch, tying it tight. “Take all the time you need,” she reassures him. “You know where to find me.”

Leia still needs to be informed that her brother won’t be attending the birthday toast, so Andrie makes her exit. But before she does, she pecks her husband on the forehead and wishes him “happy birthday, Luke” with such tenderness his heart swells. The warmth of her surrounds him long after she leaves.

~~

59 ABY. 78 years old.

“Master Skywalker!”

Turning on the path, Luke meets the bright, nervous face of a young female Togruta, dressed in Padawan robes. Her purple lekku nearly trembling, she holds out to him a scraggly bouquet of wildflowers. “For you,” she clarifies helpfully. “For your birthday.”

He nods graciously at the child and accepts the flowers. “Thank you, Noshaa,” he says (once Luke learns a student’s name he never forgets it). “And how did you know it was my birthday?”

The answer is obvious before Noshaa replies. “Master Mykarrah told us after meditation. She said if we wanted we could give you a present, so Seffi and I picked those.”

“And you both chose well.” Indulgently Luke pats her on the head. “I’ll keep them in my quarters. Now run along or you’ll be late to saber practice. Master Rey doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

After Noshaa skips back along the garden path, Luke continues slowly on his way, leaning against the staff he has increasingly come to rely on these past few years. Had he really felt so old at forty? He’d dive into the sarlaac pit if it meant he could be middle-aged again. Staring down eighty means a motley collection of twilight maladies, including the culmination of a lifetime of chronic injuries. The phantom pain of his cybernetic hand, the stiffening of his bones from the emperor’s Force lightning, the Force projection at Crait which had weakened his heart and nearly cost him his life…and those are just the major occurrences. Some mornings Luke can barely rise from his bed, and every night brings a wave of exhaustion like he’s never experienced.

And yet…even as his body fails him, his mind remains clear and he is strong in the Force. He is loved by his Padawans, by his surviving friends, by the galaxy at large-

And by the woman dearer to him than anyone else.

She sits on a bench overlooking the valley the resurrected Jedi Order calls home, though she immediately stands when she hears his staff tapping against the flagstones. “I was wondering where you were,” Andrie remarks as she guides her husband to his seat. Noticing the flowers, she asks, “From Noshaa and Seffi?”

Glad to be off his feet for a while, Luke passes the bouquet to his wife as he settles into the weathered bench. “Yes,” he groans, wincing as joints crack and pop. “Very sweet girls, but…I don’t like being fussed over much anymore.”

“Our older pupils are already aware it’s your birthday, Luke,” Andrie points out. “They would’ve told the young ones anyway. I just beat them to the punch.”

“…Still,” he mutters, “it’s the principle of the thing.”

“I apologize, then. I should have asked you first.”

“You’re forgiven.”

They don’t speak for a few minutes, soaking in the beauty of this place; after decades of a shared life, silences feel natural and perhaps even needed. Eventually Luke speaks: “Sometimes I think about him.”

“Who, dear heart?” Andrie inquires, slipping her hand into his.

“Him. Me. Who I once was.” Staring at the clouds drifting across the distant mountains, Luke continues as though he’s recounting a half-remembered dream. “I see that farm boy in my mind, yearning to leave that desert and become a great pilot, totally unaware of his destiny…he’s almost a stranger, but I know him far too well.” The lines and furrows of his face deepen in thought; his hair and beard (now with no trace of their former blond) ruffle in the breeze. “Do you ever think about her?”

“Often. More often now then I used to.” Andrie’s own hair contains only a few strands of copper, as always creeping stubbornly from their bindings. “I’m sad for her. She was angry and trapped and felt she could do nothing except snap her teeth at shadows…” Her grip tightens gently around Luke’s hand. “And then she met him.”

“The Force led them to each other, you mean,” he smiles nostalgically.

“And before they even knew what the Force was, they listened when it told them to walk their road together. It was long and painful, and they stumbled plenty of times-but it was worth it.”

Leaning over, Luke nuzzles her cheek, breathing in the scent of her. Andrie purrs a little at the sensation of his beard on her skin. “There are many things I’d do differently if I had the chance,” he confesses. “But not this. Not choosing you.”

“I told you a long time ago, you’re the only man for me,” she asserts. Then she grins wolfishly. “I don’t think any other man would’ve tolerated me this long.”

He barks a short laugh. “You tolerated me, more like.”

“You’re saying Wormie and Little Ghost weren’t made for each other?”

Shaking his head in good-natured exasperation, Luke draws Andrie’s head down to his shoulder. “It’s nice when we can be together like this,” he opines. “Just us.” And the memory of those no longer with us, the unspoken part hangs in the air. Leia, Han, Lando…their three lost children, never born…all who fought and died alongside them to restore peace in the galaxy. Among the beauty there is bloodshed, and among the bloodshed beauty. Such is the way of the Force.

And they have witnessed so much, if not together in body than connected in spirit. He is the wide open sky, she the restless ocean. “I love you, Luke,” Andrie whispers, one of the only truths she has ever counted on. “Happy birthday.”

“And I love you, Andrie,” he murmurs, drawing strength and serenity from her very being. “Always. You’re the only gift I need.”

“You’re such a sap, Skywalker.”

“But I’m your sap.”

“Shut up and come here,” she snickers, and the two share a playful but intimate kiss. Luke finds himself thinking of the kerchief she’d embroidered for him on his nineteenth birthday, the desert sage and funnel flowers in the corner. Her very first present to him, and now this-what he knows in his heart will be one of the last. Both equally as important to him. Both as treasured.

Five months later, Master Luke Skywalker breathes his last and becomes one with the Force. Andrie remains with him to the very end.

[sam-glade]

Raspberries

Characters: Lissan, Ianim Setting: Sunblessed Realm Context: Sometime towards the end/soon after book 2. Pure fluff. Again. WC: 900 CW: -

Days of Dusk taglist (please message me to +/-): @acertainmoshke @another-white-void @cee-grice @cljordan-imperium @elshells @poetinprose

“Look, raspberries!”

Lissan turned his horse not giving Ianim a chance to protest. It was as good a place as any to pause for a drink and a short break. He smiled, hearing Ianim sigh, but follow.

After three visits to the greathouse, riding across the countryside to the First Prince’s private residence had become a pleasant pastime – all the more pleasant for Ianim’s company. Not intimidating anymore. Something Lissan looked forward to.

They rode a little further around the sparse patch of woods, until they found a twisted pine tree over a dry, sandy patch. They tied the horses to one of the lower branches, and Ianim spread his thin capelet on the ground, then began rolling up his sleeves.

“Nah, stay there,” Lissan called over his shoulder.

His powers covered his skin, more than sufficient to protect him from the barbs of raspberry bushes. He could now stop Gullin’s knives with his bare hands, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to show it off at every opportunity. And while he knew that Ianim would heal in minutes from scratches, like any other Sword, there was no need for him to get scratched in the first place.

Lissan didn't even need to delve into the raspberry patch. The branches were heavy with fruit, catching plenty of sunlight between the slim trees. He got a creased but clean kerchief out of his pocket and spread it in his left hand. Every third raspberry he picked, he popped straight into his mouth, but he soon gathered a large handful.

With a satisfied smile, he turned back to Ianim, and stopped. The Princeling looked beautiful like this, leaning back on his arms, turning his face to the sun. And it was rare to see him relax in silence, not using a conversation as a distraction.

He must have noticed the lack of movement, because he looked at Lissan, tilting his head in a silent question. Lissan sat down next to him and put the raspberries between them.

“Thank you.” Ianim tasted the first raspberry, and that was enough to prompt him to talk.

He told Lissan how he’d sneak into the pantry at night, when he was an adolescent, and eat raspberry jam sweetened with honey by spoonfuls. He said that at some point the pot changed to a smaller one, and he suspected that the cook left it as a decoy for him. He segued into talking about the cook, whom he described as a burly woman with arms like tree trunks…

His words faded to the background as Lissan watched his animated features. It struck him that he’d rarely hear Ianim talk so much with more people around. He’d contribute to the conversations at the pub, even drive them, but not… ramble. And Lissan saw why. The stories from Ianim’s childhood sounded like a fairy tale; the lists of private tutors, pet ponies, honeyed cakes, and frilly outfits. A pub wasn’t the right place for them, but with the two of them, riding across the countryside on horses, one of which was sired by the White Dragon’s Sword Spirit… It sounded just right.

A thought crossed Lissan’s mind, was Ianim this open with any of their friends in private, or just him. After all, Lissan was the only one who was ostensibly a member of a noble house. Ostensibly. And while he’d repeatedly asked everyone not to remind him about it, he’d noticed that Ianim was the one who struggled with it the most. He clearly saw Lissan differently since the revelation, but with him, Lissan didn’t mind. Not when it was so clear that he yearned for the company of someone closer in status to him. Not when it meant that nobody batted an eye at the two of them spending time together, in public, out of uniform.

His thoughts trailed off when Ianim popped another raspberry into his mouth. Lissan hadn't noticed before that his lips were the same shade of red. He bit the inside of his cheek, fully aware that he was staring.

“What?” Ianim asked. Laughter rang through his voice, and his eyes caught the sun just right to gleam brilliantly blue. “Why are you looking at me like this?”

Lissan shook his head, feeling his cheeks flush.

“I sometimes wonder if you have some nymph blood in you, you know.”

Ianim laughed, the laughter turning into snorts.

“Not… to the best of my knowledge," he managed.

That was a relief.

"Anyway, you were saying?" Lissan prompted.

"Doesn't matter." Ianim shook his head, then brushed strands of hair from his forehead. He pulled a flask out of his satchel – Lissan assumed it was filled with a light, fruity wine as usual – and took a swig. Lissan couldn’t help but watch, transfixed. "What's on your mind?"

Herding his scattered thoughts to find a neutral answer was a lost cause. And in truth there was only one thing on Lissan's mind.

"That you're beautiful. That I love watching you ramble – about anything, really." He bit his lip. That I love you.

Ianim looked to the side, fingering the cap of the flask. A faint blush was already colouring his cheeks, which made Lissan just a tiny bit smug.

"You don't have to just watch, you know," Ianim muttered, not looking at him. "I mean…"

Oh, Elements, for all his eloquence, Ianim flustered way too easily. The message was clear enough though.

His lips tasted of raspberries.

[caltropspress]

DEBRIEFING: 6 July 2024 | Brooklyn, NY | Young Ethel’s

The heat index decidedly did not come correct, so it was a relief when Omar’s Chevy Equinox [Interior Assassin’s Car, see: Monch & Po] picked me up on Saturday at seven:forty-five. He had the AC at brick levels, which was a welcome reprieve from the humidity outside, but he was also bumpin’ the Sacco & Vanzetti BEHEMOTH double-album, so that had me feeling a bit heat-strokey whenever the subwoofer thumped. [Omar is The Shah, the producer-half of S&V, someone I’ve known for roughly a quarter-century, but who only makes the rarest of public appearances at events of the hip-hop variety—bless his heart.] Pulled up to 506 5th Avenue—Young Ethel’s—and got to witness the inaugural Sacco & Vanzetti in-person encounter as Sko (the rapper-half of S&V) was at the bar. Young Ethel’s keeps the musickal performance space behind a black curtain, and the sparse stage is backdropped by papered palm fronds and palmettes. Height Keech, by all appearances, lugged and schlepped all necessary audio accoutrements onto the stage—not to mention the duffle-bagged stage lights (nothing needlessly ellipsoidal) that would eventually illuminate the Wave Generators’ headlining set [spectrum | wavelengths | refractions].

But first… Fellow Jerseyan Rose Image! was the opening act and led us on an exploration of uncertainty! NAHreally (who was in the place to be smilin’ and lankily profilin’ as he does) prepped me beforehand about Rose Image! Little did I know Rose Image! was the spirited fellow in pink hat and overalls excusing and squeezing his way between Sko and I at the bar. (Sko was edifying on the history of double albums in hip-hop; there’s been “90, with some asterisks,” according to his calculations.) Rose bedecked his stage table with stuffies beside his laptop, but that was only after he entered the performance space in theatrical fashion, wide-stepping through the crowd, lifting an imaginary helmet from his head as he bounded upon the stage (“Mission Start!”). He proceeded to lead us through his songs—his log entries—and engaged and entertained, showmanship and styles, high-stepping till his hat flew off like the helmet was intended to. There was no half-steppin’ with this young artist. He’s got a lightblue spirit! (And, yes, everything ends in an exclamation point [!!!!] with Rose Image!)

I picked at a Frederick Seidel poem the other morning, and a line in the third stanza read, “Who climbs a ladder through the stars to reach the moon, / And plucks at his laptop and it becomes a lute.” Not lutes nowadays, but loops, yes. Big Flowers debuted a heap of material from their long-anticipated album, Save the Bees, but because the aux port turned unruly, we heard an impromptu rendition with all Height Keech beats backing them instead of the Messiah Musik joints. “That’s what we have community for,” says Michael [Big Flowers]. We were treated to a brief acapella rendition of Debbie Harry’s “Rapture” verse by Nosaj during the tech-diff intermission. Appearing as something of a kerchiefed Willem Dafoe Last Temptation of Christ, anarcho-poppy plucker, scissor freak, Free Palestine leafletter poet, Big Flowers—barefooted and bangled—went otherworldly over a series of beats I can only describe as “Rock Hard” / “Rock the Bells”-era Rick Rubin for a post-ruined amerika where bearded gurus die in miasmic nuclear meltdowns. Flowers was impassioned, the musculature of their neck as defined as their nanomite verses—each word functioning in formlessness. I saw them perform on 9/17/22 at the Kingsland, and this level of ardor is the norm. They said at the start of their set that they weren’t fresh on stage banter, but they shouted-out Geng PTP who’s factored in as mentor and executive producer roles for the forthcoming project. No doubt, everybody will be ready for it.

andrew was next to step up, and heaven ain’t a halfpipe, but hell may well be a grind rail—he was loose-limbed from an earlier skate session (hovering high-pressure system be damned). His set was comprised of tracks from his Height Keech-produced project (dropping in a matter of days), Can I Write A Requiem For You When You’re Dead? Keech—if you’re one to pick up on patterns—was very much the maestro of what was heard on this particular night. andrew stood centerstage, his feet teetering yet toe-steady on the edge, for most of his songs. He shared his honesty-raps full of found material and gallows humor. “I had a dream I got decapitated with a long-bladed knife,” he says early on “soda & chocolate,” but—not to be outdone—hits back with an anecdote about his belt not fitting right: “Maybe it’ll fit later, but either way it fits my throat, / It seems sturdy, and yeah, I like the design, / You gotta look cool—it’s no exception when you die.” Sko rocked with andrew on “purple & gold,” and Height, Darko the Super, and ialive joined the crowded stage for the “based on a drew story” posse cut. Most memorable, by all metrics, was the hook for “PCP,” a track which will include feature-fiends Alaska and Defcee when the album drops. andrew had the room humming along with its initial reprise: “My lower back hurts when I breathe deep, / When I was thirteen, I smoked PCP, / Alcoholic half my life, but now I’m clean…mostly.” I spoke with Sasco and shemar while Wave Generators prepped their performance. Sasco has an album soon coming, and it hosts what seems to be the whole-ass Hit Squad of underground renaissance NY-centric rap heads: Big Flowers, shemar, miles cooke, Nakama., Sunmundi, and even the elusive Hester Valentine, whom I had inquired about.

When Wave Generators—Nosaj and Height Keech—took the stage in their matching mechanic coveralls (raided Steve Albini’s closet, seemingly), the anticipation had built from the groundwork laid by Nature Boy Jim Kelly’s in-between music selections. Nature Boy Jim Kelly (one of Nosaj’s alter egos), bandit bandana’d, let us know how we got here. He was calling all active agents. The way I started to convulse, you’d think he’d released nerve agents. Never mind if you’re familiar with the pair of New Kingdom albums from 19 Naughty III and 19 Naughty VI (Heavy Load and Paradise Don’t Come Cheap, respectively), most heads got familiar through the faith healing of ELUCID who summoned Nosaj’s foulgrowl for the hook on Armand Hammer’s “Leopards” in 2020: “The savage in me I can’t stop, / Y’all made me this way—I’m too far gone to turn back now, / Ain’t a block, nigga, I can’t rock, / Streets raised me this way, / You know the vibe, nigga, I can’t stop.” A chorus of resistance, of refusal, and the ironic use of “savage” not so different from Baldwin saying, I was a savage about whom the least said the better. The re-ignition [word to Bad Brains] of Nosaj begged to say more. So he did, and on the Small Bills project with The Lasso the following year, ELUCID invited Nosaj to lay down another refrain for “Hush Harbor”: “I might be wrong, I might be right, / I’m too far from the shore to turn back, I can’t lie.” Both refrains referred to Nosaj as having come “too far” to “turn back”—he’s always been forward-thinking, a follower of Newton’s First Law of Motion, a momentum mensch. Though the cultural currents often want to push back and wash away—further back than the Gee Street Records catalog; further back than antebellum, than slaves assembling in secret; further back than transatlantic re-routings; way back—back into time! (as The Jimmy Castor Bunch always said)—Nosaj has never been a troglodyte. This all checks out. On After the End, Wave Generators’ debut for steel tipped dove’s Fused Arrow Records, there exists an overriding concern with reestablishing oneself—of re-routing and re-rooting when one feels deracinated, when one feels thrown off-course. Appropriately, where Busta Rhymes might Tear da Roof Off, Wave Generators tear the roots up. Both, though, have eschatological preoccupations—the album title itself (after the end) suggests the end is not even the end, my only friend. There’s more to be said, had, good, bad, armagideon time, [difficult listening 4] armageddon, volume 1 through volume 10 (word to Dino Hawkins).

The lexical meaning of gene- [“to give birth, beget”] and the Greek genea [“generation, race”] let heads know Wave Generators are still going on, strong-going, headstrong. Wherever they set up shop is the stronghold. Similar to artists like Mike Ladd or the Infesticons, Wave Generators welcome us to the afterfuture. They chugged through much of their album, filling the dark stage in a way the previous acts didn’t necessarily seem to, their physical forms formidable. “Where I’m going I can’t call it—I don’t know where it is,” Nosaj says on “I’ve Got My Whole Life Ahead of Me,” sound advice for any 40 or 50-something. “I’m about to bang to the moon, / Alice Coltrane: play it in my motherfuckin’ tomb!” Some real bliss: eternal now shit coming out the speakers. These Wave Generator songs are about illimitable promise, as so many of the titles indicate. “I’m Setting Up in a New City” finds Nosaj shouting post-apocalyptic post-mortem post-rap[ture] rhymes: “Ooh, baby—it’s a wild, wild world, / It’s after the end of this experiment.” Weirdly, perhaps, I began to think about the old call-and-response traditional, “I’m Building Me A Home.” In my mind, there’s a timeless symmetry between it and “I’m Setting Up in a New City”—a shared hope in finding safety and solace within the blast zone. When you hear me moanin’... When you hear me shoutin’... This earthly house is gonna soon decay. “Decay” like Fatboi Sharif and dove, mayhaps, but Nosaj is assuredly shoutin’ and moanin’. Nosaj isn’t alone. He arranges for GG Allin and Cyndi Lauper to share an electrifying embrace seconds later (and on “Reverse the Curse” it’ll be Santana and Coltrane). As with New Kingdom, the ongoing effort—advertentently or not—involves reclaiming rock music for its rightful heirs. On House of Disorder, an earlier offering from Mr. Furlow and dove, Nosaj invoked the Beatles: “John, Paul, Ringo, George-fucking-Harrison, / Niggas on weed, whiteboys on heroin.” He declares his “daddy was a black Mick Jagger” on “Cree Summer,” and seemingly subverts every performance of “Sweet Black Angel” the Rolling Stones have ever done as they sing for Angela Davis in a Dunbar-like dialect and with minstrel mystery. He’s not taking crowd requests, but on “Freebird” from his collaboration with V8 TFD (Acid is Groovy, Kill the Pigz), he sings, “I’m leeeeaving on a Jefferson Airplane, / My mind moving slow, Lord know when I’m back again.” Consequently, John Denver’s single-engine aircraft crashes into Monterey Bay and makes waves.

We are living in the age of—not the aged rapper—but of the venerable MC. Still, that’s no reason not to tap into teenage angsty disregard for parental hand-wringing. Waste not, want not your youthful verve: “My mom say I’m incompetent, / Last night I lost my confidence, / Told her I didn’t give a fuck, now I wish I fucking did.” Nosaj is kinetic—if MC is mover of crowds, then he’s ever-moving them through his own body movements: his arms spastic, his head and jaw shaking. You can hear it in his delivery, in his words. Height Keech, meanwhile, sounds reminiscent of MCA in his timbre—deliberate, clarified, keen-eyed. The formula of fuzzed-out riffs and raw-as-ruckus drums is especially pleasing in this age of meandering, percussion-light loops. Witness headbanging and just-freed-oneself-from-this-damn-straitjacket pop and lock maneuvers. Keech holds his own on the microphone, too. On “True North” (we’re still navigating, y’see), he’s got the Son of Sam and Kurtis Blow in his alley of allusions, and he’s armed with optimism as well: “We can’t let these hard times follow us and barrel down our parlor door.” Turning back. Pushing ahead. Coming and going. Followed and ditched. Running to and fro. Back and forth. Wave Generators utilize chaos to “Reverse the Curse.” With confidence: We’ll run these fascist pigs right out of toooowwwwwnn. Baby, those ain’t fireworks—them there live rounds, baby. What I saw on-stage during the Wave Generators’ performance matched a description I read in John Gardner’s The Resurrection (1966) the following morning, so I’ll leave you with that: “Then there exploded a terrible holocaust of chords and runs, each note precise, overpowering, irremissible—not music but a monstrous retribution of sound, the mindless roar of things in motion, on the meddlesome mind of man.”

Photos and video screenshots by Caltrops Press and NAHreally, respectively.

[pokemoncryptids]

Pelipper mail!

[Oh! It's a letter from Polaris!]

"Dear Delta,

Hello :)

I did promise that I would send you letters while I was away! This is going to be the first one.

Sinnoh is nice, just as cold as I remember. Probably worse since we’re up north. Had to buy Bird a new puffer jacket haha.

The best part about being back in Sinnoh is all the snacks I missed. You just can’t get Manapua and Onigiri in Johto like you can in Sinnoh. Or at least as far as I know, I haven’t been looking overly hard…an adventure for later!

The sanctuary is doing well! I went and visited Theta while Bird was taking a nap in the office, and she’s starting to really settle in. She’s much less skittish, and came right up to me for a sniff when I said hello. Of course, having a litter of adopted sneaslet kits doesn’t hurt either. Did I tell you that we're naming the sneaslet kits after the letters in the Greek alphabet too? There are five kits so they're going to be named: Gamma, Epsilon, Zeta, Iota, and Psi. If we ever get a shiny I’ll name it after you haha.

….I’m trying not to let Bird see it, but something has been itching at me since being back at Sinnoh. I don’t like it. It’s not like- the danger sense. I know you’re looking after the not kids so that does soothe me. But something is like- settled??

It’s Spring in Sinnoh right now, and the second we got off the plane there was a Sunshower. I think it’s Her. Enamorus, I mean. I feel- more here. Something. I feel something. It’s hard to put a finger on it. I’ll figure it out eventually.

I guess one perk at least is that people know me here. Did you know our neighbors back in Johto think I’m a cryptid? Andrea told me that. They think I’m some sort of spirit. It’s a bit funny. The bakeries and shops know my order here and let me get away with getting samples for Bird to try. Of course is also bad that people know me here. The paparazzi are fucking hounds Delta. Sigh.

Hm. I should take you to Sinnoh sometime. I mean, you’ve probably already been to Sinnoh, but there’s a lot that I think you haven’t experienced, especially without me as your tour guide haha. It’s very spiritual here, especially in and around the temple areas up north. There’s a guy who hand carves and paints palm-sized idols of Gods for pocket altars. I know you have the big altar, but I did commission an idol of Suicune for you anyway. I also got you a blue patterned kerchief to wrap her in when she’s done. I commissioned one of Enamorus as well, for good measure, although that one will take longer since he’s never made one of her before. Forgotten God and all that.

The spring air really is nice here. Crisp. Cool. Don’t get me wrong, I miss home, but it’s so warm in the house all the time cause the not kids aren’t built for the cold like I am.

Oh! And! For the record. The Suicine Idol isn’t the only thing I got for you. Mwahaha! You will simply have to wait and find out about that one though.

Sending you love and energy!

-Polaris"

[A letter was sent in response]

Hello Polaris.

It would be cruel of me not to sent a response, as my migranes have been too bad for me to take up any kind of commission work lately. I've mainly been living off savings from my readings. Don't worry. I'll scrape by, but hey. Now I have all the time in the world to respond to you.

I've actually never been to Sinnoh before.

I'm glad to hear Theta is well. I think about her a lot.

Not sure how to feel about having a pokemon named after me.

Maybe your danger senser has been going off because I haven't been over a lot to look after them. In my defense. Tari kicks me out whenever I come over unless I hide somewhere else in the house. I've been talking a lot to the blond haired boy, he's much calmer than the rest. Much more reasonable.

People have spoken to me about the strange sounding Unovan who follows the red head teen around. I have assured them that you are a tired tired guy, who wants nothing to do with magic or curses or being chosen at all.

Thank you for the gifts. I'm sorry I can't reciprocate.

All I can give you is this letter, and my well wishes.

I love you, as always.

-Delta.

[inserviceto]

[ Romanesco Smoothie ]

"this drink reminds me of you"

Plain and simple... though she was never a real fan of sweets-- apparently.... this was supposed to actually be vegetables instead? Perhaps it's... actually something tasty. However... When Isadora realized what she said out loud, she found herself coughing-- quickly looking away. "Sorry-- Im... unsure of where that came from, that shouldve stayed in my head"

How embarrassing... how is she going to live with herself

"Oh? Is it...," Harken started to say, but stopped when Isadora went into a bit of a coughing fit; offering her a kerchief with a vaguely concerned look on his face. He had been about to say "disappointing", but was glad he'd been cut off before speaking it. Isadora seemed in a rather good mood, and he didn't wish to dampen her good spirits.

"Ah, no, you're quite fine, but...I-- H...How do you mean?" he couldn't help asking, once she'd recovered. "Is it because of the color...?" It was the only thing he could think of, just by looking at it.

[aller-geez]

Get to know: Zilya Faê

( @thekinkyleopard owns)

27 (700) // Non-Binary He/They // Pan-Demiromantic // Elven Vampire

Full name: Zilya Fae

Nickname:Z, Zilly, Zil

Date Of Birth: Doesn’t Remember

Big Three: Gemini

Physical Appearance —

Age: 27

Eye Color: Faded albino pink

Hair Color: White Locs with Pink highlights

Weight: 132 pounds

Height: 6’0

Race: Elven Vampire

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: Septum, loc charms with dangling crystals, beauty marks under their eye, nose and by their mouth, 3 claw slash marks across his face from his master, Elven ears fully pierced, pentagram with crescent moons on each side “tramp stamp” lower back branding from captivity, bite mark scars all over their body, easily covered with long sleeves, long coats and pants.

Personality —

Greatest Strength: Their historical and fictional knowledge, intelligence and innate ability to remain calm under pressure

Greatest Weakness: Their loyalty and fear of being alone

Soft Spot: Nocturnal creatures, dogs, children and Tass

Mannerisms: Amazing posture, speaks in broken old English dialect, socially awkward, either makes too much eye contact or not enough, “Fun Fact” type of MF

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Zilya used to tell stories to the younglings of their coven, it used to bond them together and it gave them a sense of belonging and comfort. Every night they would create/write a new story for the vamplings before they’d go to bed.

Zilya thinks that technology is rotten and has been the biggest downfall to all creature-kind. It creates blocks and obstacles in one’s mind and finds it to be a waste of time. Doesn’t have a cell phone. Refuses to get one even when Tass begs them.

Zilya once helped a human to freedom, one that was captured by the coven set to be drained, and to save her from such a fate, they helped her break free. It cost him a large scar across his face when his master found out, was also often starved as punishment.

Zilya is a plant parent; loooooves plants, loves herbology, loves potions and crystals, anything that comes from Mother Earth is viewed as magical and useful to Zilya.

Zilya is a necromancer, they can talk to the dead, possess a recently deceased body momentarily, reanimate a recently deceased body for as long as they can keep concentration on the spell, and summon the God of Death (can bargain if Death is in a good mood) loves to go to grave yards to speak with the deceased. Both the spirits and Z find it comforting

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

The Sun! They dont burn like they used to when first turned, they actually wound up making a potion for themselves but mixed a very important ingredient incorrectly and a huge side effect of the potion is they can be in the sun but it causes them severe fits; the ingredient having made them allergic to sunlight

How severe are they?

Severe. The sun causes them uncontrollable fits until they’re back within the safety of the shadows

Do they get sick often?

Not too often as they’re immortal but can catch whatever Alistar, Kanai, Perry and any demon can pick up. Whatever can get past Hellion immune systems can also effect the Vampire

How bad is it usually?

They hate it, it’s not nearly as bad as what everyone else experiences but typically they hide away in their coffin when sick

Do they stifle?

Yes if they can help it, because they fear the mess it’ll make if they don’t (hates their own messes but loves when their partner is messy)

How loud are their sneezes?

Stifled, soft & airy

What do they sneeze into?

They have a little kerchief kept on their person at all times just incase

How often do they sneeze?

Not terribly often unless induced or exposed to the sun

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

It’s a drawn out build up usually when induced, but in the sun it’s almost instantly a fit

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

In the sun it’s sudden and instant, when it’s induced, takes a minute to build up

Do they sneeze in public?

No!!!! They have the fet and it’s extremely embarrassing for anyone to hear them sneeze unless a trusted person

Some examples of their sneezes?

Tss’ssh’huhh!

H’ihtsh!

Tss’k’hih!

Backstory —

Zilya was born into a hard working family of wood Elves, but their family was starving to death, and the youngest children were sure to waste away. Without realizing what he was giving up in exchange for some comfort and wealth, Adonis had to trade away his most valued asset. Not realizing it would be his first born child, Zilya. Along with losing their eldest child the family would also lose their memories of Z ever having belonged to their family in the first place. Zilya was then whisked off to a small community of goblins that used Zilya for all their dirty work.

For 14 years, from the time they were 13, Zilya did manual labor, child care, and otherwise whatever the hell the goblins wanted. Until, a vampire by the name of Vindicus came in and slaughtered the entire village, noting the young Elven slave, seeing potential, Vinny took the captive and brought them back to the coven, deciding to try something he had failed at many times, but this time was different. Half turning someone by only completely the process by 75%. Normally, Vindicus tries with humans, goblins, or shifters, but never an Elf. Being his first success, Zilya became Half immortal.

For the next 573 years Zilya was used as a feeding bag for the coven of 15. They would feed from places that could be easily hidden, case they ever needed to send the captive out. Zilya was capable of consistently supplying blood, human blood, but there was never a limit as they were partially immortal. It couldn’t kill them to loose blood, no matter how much, as their body just produced more. Making them the perfect backup for laying low, and sparse hunting seasons. They could go in homes uninvited, live forever (within reason) produce unlimited blood, have all the charisma and cunning of a vampire. It was excellent was it not? Not really. He was soul tied to Vinny til one of them died, the sun wasn’t deadly, but it certainly didn’t feel good, and they were nauseous (as well as delusional) all the time from consistently being fed on and starved out. Another thing they couldnt do, drink their own blood. Relying on their master for the mercy to drink from him when teetering the edge of life and starvation.

Zilya was never regarded for having emotions, feelings, personality or truly even existing. When the spawn wasn’t feeding one of their coven mates, they were writing children’s stories, reading books from the library, reading their stories to the vamplings. Zilya always did have a softer spot for children. Their family may have forgotten them, but Zilya remembers their 3 younger siblings almost as clear as the day they were last back at home.

Zilya lived a very lonely life, often reminded they were disposable, that Vindicus cracked the code and all they needed to do was find more like Zilya. Vinny’s ultimate goal to have a feeding fleet.

However, they were infiltrated by Vindicus’ ex lover and competition, Armin. The two had become vampires together, out of love to save Vinny from an illness and have eternal life together. Yet, Vindicus couldn’t control the urges for power and the two wound up becoming enemies. Armin wanting to remain good, Vindicus wanting to take over with a coven army. Armin wound up being able to take down the entire coven. Zilya had begged and pleaded for mercy, explaining they weren’t apart of the coven but a slave to it.

Armin took pity on the spawn, and brought them back to his castle, realizing turning the spawn would be a better decision than leaving them a vulnerable experiment. Together they lived in Armin’s large castle, the elder teaching Zilya about controlling their urges, and resisting the need for power. Armin could see that Z was different than Vinny and had the potential to put forth more good than evil amongst society. For the next 50 years things weren’t so bad, quiet even. Zilya discovered a love for crystals, magic, potion making and herbology.

They were just starting to heal, and get used to the idea that their Master was more of a friend, than someone in charge of them, but Armin was suffering silently. After having killed their lover, their entire existence no longer mattered or made any sense. They’d become a monster to save the one they loved, to preserve the passion and love they shared, only for it to end anyway. Armin leaves one night and turns himself into a monster hunter and never returns to the castle, Zilya left to fend for themselves.

Zilya tries to live amongst society, but their craving for blood never allowed them to stay long before getting chased out for killing too many live stock. Eventually, returning to the castle, only to find it having been worse for ware from environmental tragedies. Doing their best to fix what they could, a little dog, a black papillon finds its way on the property one day when Zilya is out mixing concrete. Immediately Z falls in love with her, and names her Abyss. She is their first company since Armin’s death, and very quickly becomes their most treasured companion, realizing that Mother Earth presented them their very own familiar. Zilya cherishes her. Very soon after Abyss, comes someone that changes Zilya’s existence for all of their eternity. Tassian.

Reference Sheet —

(Coming soon..)

[shivunin]

For @greypetrel's prompt "Witch Hazel (a spell)" for Emmaera (thank you again, Arja c: ) (~750 words):

“I don’t know what to do with her,” Emma confessed, pressing her hand to her forehead. 

The two of them sat in her office, the ocean making music outside of the window, the books orderly as a regiment on the shelves. Vivienne regarded her for a moment, then tilted her head. She still wore her headdress, its sharp points catching the afternoon sun. 

“Darling,” she said, “you know quite well that being a mage does not preclude learning the arts of war. So she does not want to use a staff; very well. Present her with other options and allow the girl to choose. If it is her choice, she will feel that she has won and cease fighting you over her own nature. It is quite simple.”

“But—” Emma cut herself off, thinking. Her fingers tapped a rhythm against her temple and Vivienne waited patiently until she spoke again. “Alright. What do you have in mind?” 

Half an hour later, the three of them stood in the courtyard. Vivienne swung her spirit blade one last time, tucking it into her belt even as it faded from existence. Adhlea watched with wide eyes, her arms wrapped around herself. When Emma had told her daughter that Vivienne would be showing them a spell, the girl had slumped along behind her to the courtyard, clearly expecting another lesson she had little interest in. This display had surprised her. That much was very evident. 

Apprentices whispered to each other around the periphery, for the Grand Enchanter never gave lessons if she could help it. Adhlea, curls bound into a kerchief, regarded her with a touch of hero worship in her eyes.  Vivienne surveyed her in return. 

“Very well,” she said, and produced the hilt of a sword from her pocket. It was very small, sized for a child’s hands, and Adhlea’s eyes fixed on it at once. 

“Your mother tells me that you have experience with a wooden practice sword,” Vivienne went on, and raised an eyebrow when Adhlea would have answered. Adhlea pressed her mouth together and nodded once. “Very good. This is not a practice sword, little Lavellan. It is a real weapon. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Adhlea paused. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, what is the danger with a weapon?”

“I could hurt myself.”

“No,” Vivienne said, and the hilt gleamed in her hand, though she hadn’t called magic to it. “You could hurt others. Look at your mother.”

Adhlea did so, her little face solemn, and Emmaera looked back. 

“Your mother is one of the strongest mages I have ever met,” Vivienne told Adhlea. “If you threw fire at her, she could unmake it at once. She could draw up a barrier to shield you both if someone tried the same. You cannot hurt her; not now. But a sword cuts both ways. If you are not careful when you touch it, when you swing, you could hurt yourself, yes. But it will hurt you far worse, my dear, if you hurt someone else. Not everyone is a mage of your mother’s caliber. Your father, for example, would be badly hurt if you swung without care. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adhlea said in a small voice. 

Emma pressed her lips together. She had been very, very careful to make sure that her daughter was not afraid of herself, nor the magic she held. In Lavellan’s opinion, shame and fear were half the reason human mages struggled so badly against demon possession. But Vivienne was right: if Adhlea was to learn this sort of magic, she needed to respect its dangers as much as she delighted in its possibilities. Cullen had told her much the same about teaching her to fight with a sword of steel. 

“I am going to hand you this now,” Vivienne said, still as composed and regal as if she were giving a speech to a queen, “if you drop it or use it before I tell you, you will not get it back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adhlea said, and pulled herself up into a posture resembling Vivienne’s. 

When Adhlea was allowed to call the blade into existence at last, Emma watched joy leap across her daughter’s face and knew that she had been right to bring this to her friend after all. Vivienne, the smallest of smiles curling at the corner of her mouth, caught Lavellan’s eyes and nodded. 

Present her with other options, Vivienne had said. How glad she was that this was an option at all.

[j-morgan-fly]

Samsa

So me and @fromtheboundlesssea talked a long time ago about who she would consider for Sansa outside of Jon, and she said Sam Tarly. And you know what. Yes! I thought that would be so cute so I have started writing something.

Here is a sneak peak.

Sansa finds a unlikely kindred spirit in Samwell Tarly. They find comfort and pleasure in many of the same things such as books, music, and even fabrics and dancing though Sam was a bit clumsy at the last. He’s fun to be with. The last person she felt she had any fun being around had been Margaery Tyrell for a short, blessed time. Sam brought out the girl she thought had been killed within her when Ramsay had bent her over their marriage bed and made Theon watch as he took the last bit of innocence she had left.

Sam is so very easy to speak with and she finds herself confiding in him things she knew was best not to trust anyone with and yet she unconsciously, slowly bloomed under his gentle, soft attentions. She told herself at first it was because he reminded her of a very large little boy, like Hodor, but that wasn’t true. Sam was very much a man. He was just very different from any man she had ever known. 

He had a mind as bright as a burning star, but like a star, you did not often appreciate the value of it until all was dark and it was the one thing that could lead you home. And his heart, he had this great, big pulsing heart filled with love and loyalty. He had a sweet sense of humor too that made her grin despite herself. And he was so very kind and gentle. And where he had the mind of a scholar, he has the soul of a knight. He had loved stories of chivalry and romance as much as she had when she was a girl. But Sam was not a fool.

He wasn’t fast to admit it or take credit for it, but he had a large part in helping Jon win the votes for Lord Commander. Sam took advantage of Cotter Pyke and Denys Mallister hating each other by having them each back Jon as an alternative candidate over Janos Slynt. At the mention of Janos Slynt she had fallen quiet, sullen. Of course observant Sam noticed this and asked her what was wrong. She told him then of how Janos Slynt gleefully been the one to push her father down for Illyn Payne to behead and how she had prayed for a hero to cut off his head in turn for his part in her fathers unjust death. 

“The Gods answered your prayer, be the old or new, my lady. Janos Slynt is dead. Jon himself was the man to take his head for insubordination at the Wall.” Sansa didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Sam brush a tear from her cheek and then offer her his kerchief. The silk had seen better days, worn and stained.

“You should tell Jon about Janos Slynt and his participation in your fathers death and share in this small justice for your father.” Sam had suggested, turning his face away for her to wipe the rest of her tears with his offered handkerchief. 

Sansa had taken that advice. One evening, when they were sharing a meal together, Sansa opened up to Jon that night about the day their father was beheaded. About Janos Slynt.

“I knew he had a part in Lord Starks death, I just didn’t know how much. He was proud of it, calling me a traitors bastard and was always saying how he was ‘friends’ with the king and the Lannisters.” Said Jon and Sansa took his hand, giving his knuckles a squeeze. 

“But you slayed him, you got justice for our father, even if it was just one participant in his death. Thank you, Jon.” said Sansa. Jon gave her a smile, a little strained with years of grief, but genuine. In his eyes, Sansa could also see some relief behind the icy grey. Killing didn’t come easy to Jon, Sam had told her. Each death, no matter how justified it may have been, was like a stone added to a bag on Jon’s shoulder. A heavy burden that Jon always carried with him.

Some days Sansa and Sam didn’t speak at all, they just sat in Winterfell’s library in comfortable chairs in comfortable silence. A plate of lemon cakes and mugs of hot cider would be on a table between them as they sat in front of a warm, crackling hearth a book in each of their laps.