#mild story spoilers

[shepherds-of-haven]

Would pay to be a fly on the wall witnessing Lavi and Tally’s honeypot bonding mission.

My ideal team matchup for this mission would be Tallys - Trouble - Lavinet LOL. Lavinet and Tallys trying to navigate who's going to be the honeypot and "delicately" trying to argue for which one of them is better for the situation ("are you saying that you're more beautiful than me?" "no, simply more equipped..."), while Trouble is in the middle like 🧍‍♂️...

[maifos]

Can we get a round of applause for the music in fhjy? It's been so good and I feel like both the music itself and the use of it is better this season. What made me notice this was all of Riz' noir and mission impossible esc. songs when breaking into porters office and when he was looking over the Ragh stuff in the temple. I really like musical themes and stuff so it's really fun to see it used more this season! Or maybe i just didn't notice it earlier, who knows

[cosettegf]

i love the penumbra podcast and i love second citadel and i really enjoyed listening to the finale but i feel. weird about the way this show treats its female characters???

[krakenshaped]

This game fucking rocks

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Preaching Date translation + Subbed Video

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lucien casually closes his eyes and raises the gun, pulling the trigger without care.

Bang-!

The barrel swiftly twists, and a bloody "firework" explodes on the man's finger.

Lucien's expression remains indifferent, but crimson bloodshot vessels have already filled the bottom of his eyes.

Like a calm sea surface concealing a dark vortex that has already surged, ready to swallow everything at any moment.

Everything- including himself.

Translation under the cut

[Subbed Video]

[Part 1]

The summer is full of sunshine in Europe, yet the temperatures are rather gentle like late spring.

I lift up my phone and capture a snapshot of the emerald-green scenery under the radiant sunlight.

MC: Lucien, what do you think of this photo I took?

Beside me, Lucien slightly leans forward. His other hand wraps around my waist.

Lucien: The composition is novel and the theme is clear, but it lacks a finishing touch.

MC: Huh? What do you mean?

As he speaks, he hands his phone to me, and the screen displays a photo — with the same emerald green tones, but this time with the addition of my silhouette in the background.

The thought of me taking a picture of the trees while Lucien takes a picture of me at the same time and space makes me unable to suppress my laughter.

MC: Professor Lucien always seems to play the role of the “watchful observer”* behind the scenes, doesn’t he?~

(T/N: 黄雀在后 (Lit. the oriole behind) is from a complex idiom 螳螂捕蝉，黄雀在后 (lit. The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind) which generally means to pursue a narrow gain while neglecting a greater danger. You can say that Lucien is the greater danger and it’s an important foreshadowing :D)

Lucien: Is that so? I haven’t thought that much about it though.

Lucien: In my judgment, the best scenery is only found where you are.

I raise the corners of my lips and hook my hand around his neck under the shade of the trees.

MC: Well, I admit you’re more meticulous~ But are you sure you want to accompany me sightseeing?

MC: You have to attend the academic exhibition tomorrow. Shouldn’t you go back to the hotel and prepare for it?

Recently, there have been groundbreaking advancements in the research of neurodegenerative diseases at the Ultima Bioresearch Center.

To make further progress, Ultima Bioresearch Center organized its researchers to participate in the latest academic exhibition in Europe to present the project research to major medical companies.

If the collaboration between the two parties is successful, they will jointly develop lower-cost medications to save more patients.

Lucien smiles and lifts the palm of his hand to cradle the back of my head, imprinting a kiss on my forehead.

Lucien: Mm, can’t be more sure.

Lucien: The reason I came a day early is to bask in the sun and take a walk with you in advance.

Lucien: Moreover, this city holds numerous festive gatherings during its lively times, and I’m really looking forward to this time of leisure and exploration with you.

MC: Alright then, I can enjoy myself without worry.

MC: However, if there’s any assistance you need from me at the exhibition tomorrow, as a “non-staff personel,” I’ll be there to support you!

After saying that, I grab his hand and walk towards a bustling crowd ahead.

Apart from the fantastical carousel and teacup-like Ferris wheel, there are also shooting stalls, ring-toss games, claw machines, and other stalls all around, creating a lively atmosphere.

Lucien: Which one would you like to play first?

MC: Hmm... It seems like there are long queues for all of them.

Lucien looks around and then takes my hand, leading me toward a shooting stall filled with plush toys.

Lucien: Since that’s the case, let’s go to the place with prizes first.

Lucien: If we arrive late, I might see a “disappointed” little lady.

[Part 2]

That night, I fell into a deep slumber, holding tightly onto the small fox plushie that Lucien had won for me.

After a restful sleep, I wake up refreshed the next day and neatly organize the materials at the booth.

MC: It’s starting in ten minutes.

I adjust the name tag on my uniform, ensuring that the synchronous translation device in my ear is functioning properly. Then, I wave at Lucien before heading off.

MC: Today, I’ll be your little assistant, Professor Lucien. Feel free to give me any instructions~

Lucien: Then I’d like to offer a token of appreciation before we begin as a small thanks.

He smiles and takes my hand, walking towards the nearby railing.

The exhibition is located in an open-air atrium of a luxurious hotel, surrounded by lush greenery. With a gentle inhale, the air is filled with a delightful fragrance.

To my surprise, I discover that on the ground floor of the hotel, there is also a festive gathering with various stalls in the courtyard.

MC: Haha, I didn’t expect the organizers to be so thoughtful.

MC: They even consider that even the greatest and most rigorous scientists need to relax and unwind their minds from time to time~

Colorful tents adorn the area, and among them stands a person-sized rabbit plush toy inside a claw machine.

It raises its furry paw, seemingly beckoning to those who are destined to take it home.

Lucien: MC, don’t you think it would be a perfect match with the little fox from last night?

He seems to have noticed the same thing as me, and his voice gently resonates with a joyful tone.

MC: Yes, it’s indeed a perfect companion!

MC: I wonder if it will still be here waiting for us once we’re done with our busy schedule.

As I speak, I glance around, searching for any potential “competitors.”

However, since it’s an event within the hotel, aside from the staff, only a few people are sitting on a swing in one corner.

They are wearing casual plaid shirts and don’t have any name tags, so they must be hotel guests.

However, it seems like they are not very interested in the gathering as they keep their heads down, engrossed in their phones.

Lucien: It seems that for now, there won’t be anyone to compete with us for that adorable little rabbit.

With a subtle sense of delight, I tidy up his collar once again.

MC: Professor Lucien, shall we start working? We can bring it home with us once we’re finished~

Since it is a highly selective exhibition, the attendees here are representatives from authoritative companies in the medical industry.

In addition, with the format of poster presentations, Lucien and other researchers take turns being on duty.

One group is responsible for providing explanations to the attending representatives, while the other group can explore and learn from other booths.

Although I may not have expertise in the relevant field, I do my best to assist by delivering materials and providing guidance.

After two busy hours, the visiting group of researchers returns with smiles on their faces.

Researcher A: Thank you for your hard work. Now it’s our turn to take over and provide explanations.

Researcher B: The booths this time are all impressive. I believe you will gain a lot from exploring them.

Lucien: Alright, shall we go then?

Lucien’s fingertips naturally intertwine with mine through the gaps between our fingers. However, he doesn’t stop at any booth but leads me directly to the entrance on the ground floor.

MC: Huh? Aren’t you going to explore the booths?

He glances at the rabbit still inside the claw machine, and there is a slight relaxation in his expression.

Lucien: Of course, we’ll explore them, but we have two hours, remember?

Lucien: If all goes well, within ten minutes, I should be able to have you holding the rabbit in your arms.

MC: Professor Lucien is quite confident, huh~

Lucien: (chuckles) In my plan, having it as our companion will ensure that we have a good mood throughout the entire day.

As he speaks, he takes out a stack of bills and exchanges them for a basket of coins at the counter. He then walks over to the claw machine.

Because the rabbit plush toy is quite large, the claw machine is filled with balls of different colors. The goal is to grab the only pink ball, and then exchange it with the staff for the rabbit plush toy.

MC: Are you so confident? Those claw machines can be rigged, you know!

Lucien: As long as I practice a few times and observe the claw’s gripping strength, speed, and inertia when it shakes...

Lucien: Then we can bring it home.

The claw slowly descends after Lucien presses the button, scratching the smooth surface of the ball but coming back empty-handed.

He doesn’t feel discouraged. A sharp gleam appears in his narrow eyes as if he is quickly calculating something.

As time passes, with only two game coins remaining, Lucien calmly inserts them into the machine.

Lucien: MC, if I succeed on the last attempt, can I get some rewards?

I certainly know what he’s hinting at. I tiptoe and give him a kiss.

MC: Of course you can.

MC: However, based on my understanding of you, you can totally redeem the reward in advance!

[Part 3]

MC: Wow, this rabbit is even softer than I imagined.

Lucien: (chuckles) It’s very cute indeed. Can you lend it to me for now and place it at our booth as a mascot?

Lucien: Who knows, it might attract more company representatives to come over.

MC: Um! After we place it, then I’ll accompany you to visit other booths...

As I speak, I suddenly feel a buzzing sensation in my head, as if a layer of white mist is enveloping me. My vision becomes blurry, sometimes appearing closer and sometimes farther away.

Lucien....

Slowly turning my head, I notice that Lucien’s figure has become hazy, and the surrounding noise is drowned out by a buzzing sound.

He seems to have noticed that something is wrong with me as well, and he anxiously wraps his arm around my waist.

Lucien: MC.

I can’t hear anything.

I can only see his mouth opening and closing as if he’s calling out my name, but when I try to reach out and hold him, my hands are unresponsive and out of control.

It feels like an unknown force is pulling at my body, and I am aware that I have opened my mouth, uttering unexpected English words.

But in the next second, the translation earpiece automatically recognizes my voice and converts it into a cold, electronic sound—

‘MC’: “Hey, Professors, how can you two just casually leave the exhibition like that?”

What is happening?

No matter how much I try to wave my hands or shout out loud, it’s of no use.

It feels like my consciousness is being drawn into a vessel, and no matter how much my brain sends commands, my body refuses to obey my instructions.

Just as I try to seek help from Lucien, my legs suddenly start running forward, and then I leap up, using the railing in front of me for support, momentarily soaring into the air.

I sense a hint of pain as the ligaments in my thighs tear instantly, but in the next second, my body jumps over the railing.

Soon, the swing that I saw in the morning comes into view in my line of sight, and my hands immediately reach out from the bushes, holding a handgun.

After completing all the actions seamlessly, a cold muzzle is pressed against my temple.

Bang-!

My mind goes blank for a brief moment.

The expected pain and agony do not arrive as anticipated. In my line of sight, birds startle and flap their wings towards the sky, while the people around me scream and scatter in all directions.

In the chaos, several armed men drive the people who couldn’t escape into the tents, and sobs can be heard from inside.

Lucien: This evolver, what do you plan to do?

I feel the corners of my mouth twitch, and I keep the gun barrel pressed against my temple. I turn around and look at Lucien, whose face has turned icy.

His face is particularly grim, and the temperature around us seems to drop several degrees under the scorching sun.

But “I” simply give a shake to the bunny ears in my hand and let out a scoffing laugh.

‘MC’: “Professor, don’t be nervous. I’m just here to get the job done. If possible, I don’t want anyone to die here either.”

‘MC’: “So, before I explain my intentions, how about we quietly return to the venue?”

Lucien doesn’t take a step forward, and his narrow eyes become slightly cold.

Lucien: You have already stirred up trouble.

Lucien: I’m afraid that there won't be a way to calm things down peacefully.

As “I” speak, I tried countless times to escape from the white fog, but each attempt ends in failure.

Just as I am trying to calm down and think, “I” suddenly releases the grip on the gun and casually flips it around twice.

‘MC’: “Fine, let’s save some time then.”

‘MC’: “Although I’m not a professional, I do know that all of you have excellent research achievements. It’s just that they’re a bit too good.”

‘MC’: “If we continue to lower drug prices, there will always be people who are unhappy.”

‘MC’: “So, on behalf of my boss, I want to have a chat with all of you, discuss some business, and ensure that everyone presents has an opportunity to make money.”

The cold translation plays through the earphones, gradually making me realize that a terrorist attack is being launched against the exhibition.

However, he seems unfamiliar with Lucien, and the fact that I’m the one being "held hostage" is more like a “random stroke of luck.”

With that in mind, I instinctively nodded toward Lucien, despite being out of control.

‘MC’: “Alright, let’s go back to the venue with us. This way, I will release this lady.”

Lucien: I understand your intentions now.

Lucien: But you've taken the wrong person hostage. She is not a research team here.

Lucien: And compared to you, the person standing in front of you seems to pose an even greater threat.

My lips twitch again, but the bristling hairs on my body told me that there is some surging emotion building up.

However, the person controlling my body seems oblivious to this subtle change, even arrogantly crossing their arms.

‘MC’: “Professor, actually, my luck is not bad. Even if I’ve taken the wrong person hostage, she is still the most important one among these people.”

‘MC’: “Because you care about her a great deal, don’t you?”

‘MC’: “If you don’t believe me, take a look at this...”

The rabbit in my hand slips away and falls in front of my shoe.

I lift my hand and press it forcefully onto a sharp fence behind me, leaving a trail of blood.

A piercing pain spreads from my fingertips to my whole body, and my vision becomes blurred by involuntary tears.

However, the person controlling me seems to be devoid of shared pain, continuing to press down without any concern—

An instant frost envelops my fingertips, followed by my joints as they freeze, leaving my limbs completely immobilized in place.

Bang- Bang!

“I” follow the sound and look, only to see the people who were holding the gun also frozen on the ground, their eyes filled with fear clearly reflected through the ice crystals.

??: AHH-!

The people being held hostage immediately scream and flee from the tent, leaving only “me” and Lucien standing in place.

Lucien: Sorry.

Lucien: It might be a bit cold, but it'll be fine soon.

Lucien walks towards me step by step, and wherever he goes, thin ice forms in his steps.

I’m unconsciously trembling from the chilling air, and he covers the back of my hand with an even colder palm.

In just an instant, the gun in my hand is taken away by him.

[Part 4]

‘MC’: "If you're willing to do it, go ahead and shoot. After all, she'll be the only one getting hurt."

Lucien: I see you still haven't figured out the situation.

He shows no emotions on his face, the tightly pressed corners of his mouth sharp as a blade.

Lucien: The issue I'm facing has never been about making choices.

Lucien: Because even if you were to gamble with your life, your life is not worthy enough to do so.

Several sharp ice shards suddenly appear with us at the center, slanting downward and refracting a cold gleam of light.

Lucien: I know where you are.

Lucien: I also know what your fate will be.

At this moment, I feel my body stiffen, as if it's a reaction triggered by that Evolver.

‘MC’: “You-!”

All the ice shards pierce through, resoundingly embedding into the ground, except for one spot where a different sound emerges from the thicket of trees—

—like a muffled sound that blends together the piercing of flesh and bone.

As my body trembles uncontrollably, a body pierced by ice shards in each limb falls from among the trees.

Lying on the ground is a young man who appears to be around thirty years old, dressed in a plaid shirt...

In an instant, I recall that he seems to be the person who was sitting on the swing earlier in the morning!

So, it turns out they had already infiltrated early in the morning.

‘MC’: “....”

The person controlling my body seems to be overwhelmed with fear, only able to produce hoarse gasps.

Lucien takes oppressive steps forward, picking up the rabbit plush toy and the scattered game coins that fell to the ground.

Seeing my blood on them, a cold gleam flashes through Lucien's typically calm eyes, causing terrifying cracks to appear in the surrounding frost.

After a moment of silence, he sits on the nearby bench, quietly embracing the plush and holding it as if it were a lifeline.

Lucien: Sir, you made my rabbit dirty.

Lucien casually closes his eyes and raises the gun, pulling the trigger without care.

Bang-!

Lucien: However, that's not the only mistake you've made.

The barrel swiftly twists, and a bloody "firework" explodes on the man's finger.

Lucien's expression remains indifferent, but crimson bloodshot vessels have already filled the bottom of his eyes.

Like a calm sea surface concealing a dark vortex that has already surged, ready to swallow everything at any moment.

Everything- including himself.

Lucien: But now you still have the opportunity to make the final judgment.

Bang- Bang!

But Lucien seems uninterested in receiving a response, immediately firing several shots at the man’s various limbs.

The next moment, I feel my vision blur once again, but this time it seems like control over my body has returned.

I make a few deliberate movements with my fingers, and the sensations transmitted through the nerve endings make me realize that the person controlling me seems to have vanished from my body.

However, the peculiar sense of detachment amplifies within my body, and I can't prevent myself from losing strength and falling to the ground—

A strong hand scoops me up and embraces me.

Lucien: MC, it's all right now.

Lucien: It’s all right now…

It’s as if he said the last sentence to reassure himself, with barely detectable tremors in his soft voice.

MC: Lucien...

The lingering fear makes me instinctively cling to him, as if trying to absorb his warmth, burying it deep within my chest.

And he is holding me tightly, his large palm gently stroking me over and over again.

Lucien: Don't be afraid, I'm here.

MC: I... I can hear and see everything, but I just can't control myself...

Lucien: (chuckles softly) MC, do you need to confirm it again?

Lucien is holding my hand to his cheek, a cool and soft touch comes from his fingertips.

My fingertips tremble slightly, then slowly glide across his cheek, his nose, and the edge of his lips.

I want to imprint these ordinary touches deep into the bottom of my heart.

Lucien: Even though it feels a bit ticklish, you can take as much time as you need to be sure.

Lucien: I'll be here for you until you're fully at ease.

Lucien lowers his head and gently kisses my lips. His movement is light and slow as if he wants me to feel him as much as possible.

 MC: Lucien....

I grip his lapel with a bit of force, feeling the tension of the fabric under my fingertips, gradually soothing my unease and palpitations.

Everything that just happened seems to be just a nightmare.

After deepening the last kiss, he gently sets me down, crouches, and takes hold of my knee, slowly rubbing it.

Lucien: Are you still cold?

Seeing the apology in his eyes, I shake my head, preparing to say something, when a siren suddenly rings out from the distance.

I stare blankly at the man who's fallen unconscious on the ground, the pool of blood beneath him is a shocking sight.

Lucien: He’s fine for now.

Lucien: But I need to take you to get bandaged up first.

He massages my knee again, his gaze fixed intensely on the coagulated blood at my fingertips.

Even though it's just a minor scrape, I don't want him to worry any further, so I obediently nod.

MC: There seems to be a medical station in the venue, so by the time the police arrive, we can still manage to cooperate and give statements...

Before I can finish, Lucien pulls me into his arms, his chin lightly resting on the top of my head.

Lucien: There's no need to rush

Lucien: I don't want to make you suffer any more today. I will negotiate with them to postpone the process until tomorrow morning.

He unconsciously tightens his grip, revealing deeper emotions beneath his slightly stern demeanor.

Apart from guilt, there's a greater sense of fear that he can’t control.

[it’s the fear of losing someone yet again :”]

I can't help but hug him tightly, feeling his silent but turbulent embrace.

MC: Even though I'm fine now, I'll still listen to you~

The light in Lucien's eyes softens a bit more, he releases me and picks up the rabbit plush at his foot, and gently pats it.

Lucien: MC, my plans have been disrupted, so to make it up to you...

Lucien: I will help you clean it. In the time that follows, both me and it will be here to bring you joy.

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ Whispers in the West Winds ⸸

She had seen the partial sands of Dalmasca and the vineyards in Lea monde. She had seen the port of Valnain and the old ruins of buildings and warehouses that scattered the areas of Dalmasca like life had fallen to time. She had seen the frigid snowcaps of Coerthas and the ice caverns nestled away within the hollows of the Central Highlands and she had played witness to the fickle clime that kept Ishgard in a state of perpetual winter. Some days there would be plenty of sun and the vapor of a cold breath on the wind and other days there would be so much snowfall that walking out in the weather amongst the city was a task in and of itself.

But Vahalia had never been to Tural.

In truth, while she had been all over to many places and spent much time abroad in the free cities, she had yet to be remotely close to adventuring out in more wild areas such as woods and jungles. Perhaps in her younger years while on her apprenticeship she had more of a knack for exploring than she had recently.

Business kept her busy though at current with business booming and qualified folk on hand, what kept her from such now?

The Matriarch of House Cress made her way through the streets to the Gray estate which she had been to a handful of times before – if that. Though today it would bring about a new reason why she had ventured out in the cold snap that Ishgard had been experiencing. Suddenly the thought of the sun and rumored green canopies overhead hadn’t sounded too terrible.

A long scroll had been rolled up and tucked under her arm, well kept with a few rounds of twine and in her hand was a small box and an envelope that accompanied it under a tight decoration of ribbon. Such a small gesture and making it presentable was certainly the doing of either Annette or Marion, both of whom thoroughly enjoyed the moments they could decorate.

Pleasantries were shared between Lady Cress and Tilly as Tilly escorted the sable-haired woman up the foyer steps and towards the myriad of hallways that led them to Cordelia.

As Vahalia entered the room, the sound of the well-kept fire crackled and popped, an ever-consistent feature of the Ishgardian home, mixed with the metronomic ticking coupled with soft pricks of the needle pushing through the thick fabric as Cordelia’s intent held steady on the embroidery at her front. She was not oblivious to the arrival of her guest, the gentle and graceful footfalls differing from the quicked scurry of Tilly’s step, and yet her attention remained on her work a moment after the entrance. 

“Lady Cress, Miss.” Tilly respectfully announced after offering the softest clearing of her throat. She waited not for the confirmation that Cordelia heard before turning and leaving the two women to their matters. 

The repetitive moves paused as Cordelia lifted her work to admire the half-completed design against the firelight before tucking the needle under the woven yarn and resting the embroidery hoop on her lap. Once affording Vahalia her attention, a rare occurring smile came as she plucked the monocle from her right eye and tucked it into the small pocket on her upper chest. “Ah, Lady Cress, what a pleasure. I received your letter, I apologize I have yet to return word, things have been a bit… chaotic as of late. Please, sit.” 

“No need for an apology,” Vahalia spoke and she made her way further into the room, the swish and swath of black following in her wake as it often did, glimpses of satin and lace, the eerie slither of the fabrics towing behind as if beckoned. Free fingers found the side of the metronome that swayed with a gentle tick in rhythm. 

How very alike the pair had been, even from afar, it was as if they had been the two to share a womb with how alike they had been over the course of time Vahalia had come to know Cordelia, perhaps more kindred spirits than she and her own sister, Valeria.

Crimson lips split into a faint smirk as Vahalia turned back to the Lady of the House, “I’ve come with a gift and some information you might find rather intriguing. Since it has been two months since we last set eyes on one another, you might have heard of the children.” stepping forward Vahalia offered the envelope toward Cordelia and she took the opportunity to occupy the seat across from her, resting the long scroll and box within her lap, “I had a small portrait made up for you if you wish to have it. Idalia and Evran is what I chose to go with.”

Before reaching over to accept the envelope, Cordelia set her embroidery down on the dark wooden table that was settled in front of the fireplace between all the seating. “Another small bit I planned to add to that never sent the letter. I was unsure of the proper…protocol, I suppose, for these types of things.” Her delicate fingers went about undoing the envelope and pulling the portraits out to examine them with softened features. “Beautiful names for two beautiful beings, strong names.” With a nod, she looked up now to Vahalia. “Congratulations, House Cress has been blessed.” 

“Indeed we have,” Vahalia replied with a small smirk allowing Cordelia to continue.

Leaning forward again, Cordelia gently rested the portrait atop the fabric nestled in the wooden ring, her intention to have it framed at the earliest availability. “You said you had something to discuss, would you care for tea or refreshments?” 

A wave graced the air between Vahalia and Cordelia as she waved off the notion. She didn’t have a care for bothering Tilly, “A few things to be exact. But first, It is my hope that you don’t mind another gesture. It isn’t to imply anything or place pressure upon you but I had thought it to be in good form to gift you with something a little more personal.” listing forward, Vahalia offered the small ebon box to Cordelia.

“Valeria and I have family rings, which is common for most noble houses as you know and I came to the conclusion that Adrian would have wanted you to have one. I’ve read the letters and everything you provided and I can tell that he had some affiliation with your mother. Perhaps the only love I’ve seen comes from that man. I cannot blame him for that, at the very least. Moreover, I think my grandmother would have wanted it more.” sharp golden eyes looked over Cordelia’s mien and Vahalia corrected herself, “Our grandmother.”

Once more Vahalia’s hand waved, “Metals and gems from the family stash, or what is left of it. They hadn’t brought much with them from Dalmasca when they fled. One of the lapidaries in town made it specifically for you.”

After she had accepted the small box, Cordelia went about removing the ring from its nestled position within. A jeweler, herself, she allowed a moment to inspect, or rather, appreciate the gems and craftsmanship. As Vahalia spoke of family rings, her gray hues glanced to the silver loop around her right finger that had been given to her by her own mother and it brought a faded smile to her darkened lips. 

“Your timing could not be more impeccable.” Cordelia began as she snapped the box closed softly and set it to join the gathered bunch on the table before her. The ring remained held between fingertips as she spoke further. “I have been doing some contemplation, a bit of back and forth within myself, and I have concluded that I do hold interest in learning further of my lineage within the Cress name. That is if it is something you are still willing to share.” Slipping the ring from her right hand and replacing it with the gifted one from Vahalia, Cordelia shifted it now to a different finger. “As well…” her voice carried off as she pushed from her seat to cross the room to her desk, pulling a drawer open and retrieving a similar yet longer-shaped box to the one her ring had come in. 

“I had hoped to have finished this before our prior meeting, but I wanted the jewel settings to be in a specific way and well, if anything I am a perfectionist.” As she returned to the sitting area, the box was afforded to Vahalia with a smile before Cordelia found her seat once more. “Three gemstones, the center larger one for yourself and the two smaller for the children. Seeing as we are family, I thought perhaps a new heirloom to pass on, a piece born of new paths forged together.” ” 

Crimson lips turned upward with a curious undertone – once more the pair far more alike than they had ever been led to believe – seemed life was funny like that. Receiving the box Vahalia too opened her gift to partake in appraising the craftsmanship. For a stint, she had almost forgotten that Cordelia herself had dabbled in gems and jewelry. It had not escaped Vahalia’s notice that Cordelia herself had chosen to don the ring in her way, shifting her old one aside though not entirely discarding it. To her, it showed Cordelia had been willing to embrace both.

Perhaps not the outcome Vahalia had foreseen; surprising nonetheless.

“You have my thanks. Of course, I am open to helping to answer any questions you might have. If there isn’t an answer I have but one you seek then we will simply find it together. That is the design.” nearly forgetting about the large scrolled parchment tucked under her arm, Vahalia offered it forward, “Coupled with everything prior, I have this. What does your schedule look like and would you be interested in a small task across the seas to the west?”

As Vahalia offered the reassurance of guidance regarding learning further about her lineage, Cordelia nodded slowly, her lips affording the slightest hint of a smile. The question, however,  brought about a curiosity in Cordelia, a brow rising just so as her head tilted at a bit of an angle. With a single, fluid motion, she bent at the waist with an outstretched arm to retrieve the rolled parchment. Once settled back into her normal sitting position, she undid the twine that held the shape in place and began to unroll it as eyes flicked up with silent questions to Vahalia.

"Tural." She spoke with keen interest, the familiar land masses were mapped out along the large parchment, every chartered continent and islands along with various safe routes for sea faring vessels -- likely the handy work of the cartographer Bancroft that Vahalia kept on hand.

"I have on good authority via her quartermaster that Ophelia was set for Tural weeks ago. While she might be several steps ahead of us, the Sea Scorpion would cut the travel in half. Furthermore, she's assumed to be there still. I want to see her in shackles and in our custody to answer for her betrayal of the Circle." Vahalia's softly colored golden eyes met that of Cordelia's steely blue, the pair matched with a depth of sharpness too. The debt could only be paid in blood. That was the way of things -- the cost of betrayal was a high one; her very life would eventually be forfeit.

“No doubt trailing the rumors of the City of Gold in the continent. Gold does not interest me, but the prospect of business and revenge does. Tell me, sister, what piques your interests most of all?” Vahalia’s hand lifted and the crook of her finger found the apex of the map’s edge Cordelia held to better peer across to her kin.

“Tural? That is a rather long and treacherous voyage, is it not?” The question came out of curiosity and seeking validation as opposed to suggesting that either of them could not fair the journey. That was of no concern, the two were a force but together it was becoming clear that the pair would be something far more.

 With keen ears and silent lips, Cordelia allowed Vahalia to continue. Her stormy eyes shot up and over the edge of the map as her kin pulled her attention away from the markings. “Crimes against one Cress is a crime against us all, is it not?” She scoffed and lowered the map to her lap. “Then again, I suppose she truly did damage to both of us whether by association or in actuality. I say she should surely pay for those crimes and who better to dole out that punishment than us?” 

Crimson lips twitched into a smirk. Playful at first but then it darkened coupled with a venous gaze – Cordelia was thinking like a Cress. Perhaps, she was simply herself all along and it was the Cress blood that brought the sinister in her. The deep, dark, and ugly parts only a Cress could ever embrace, “Then you seek payment in blood as well.”

Vahalia sat back as her hand along the map now busied itself to thumb over the ornate design of the filigree and silver etchings of her choker, pad finding the cool and familiar smoothness and facets of the onyx that shifted at her throat when she spoke, “Tural will be a long voyage but quite a bit of the time can easily be shaved off on account of my plans to take the Sea Scorpion. She’s set to sail to Limsa tomorrow morning which should give us plenty of time to plan and pack for the voyage. Take whom you wish, within reason of course. The ship will not be able to lay anchor at the port and we will have to be accommodated by a smaller vessel inland but that is hardly an issue. Of course, I’ll have Miss Bancroft on hand to help with navigation. I’d prefer to avoid Shade’s Triangle at all costs. The reefs that stretch coastally around the continent are known to be thick and crowded, far too much of a hazard to sail larger vessels closer to the city of Tuliyollal. However, we’ll have suitable lodgings there within the city. Respectable for any amount of time we choose to remain.”

Cordelia released a side of the map, turning it to maneuver her fingers to roll the parchment up as it once was when it was given to her. “I would only have one to accompany me and will be prepared to leave within the evening if that is what you plan.” The words were matter-of-fact, leaving little possibility that she might be unsure of her decisions.

Vahalia tilted her head as she appraised Cordelia – no, her newly found kin, “You might come to find the markets and artisans there to your interest. I’ve heard a great deal from a few who were willing to talk of the exports there. Quite the ethnic diversity as rumor happens to have it.”

“A well-rounded trip with many purposes, it would seem.” The fire danced in its reflection within Cordelia’s eyes before the woman turned to glance out the windows into the dimly lit snowy atmosphere that waited outside of the walls of Gray Manor. It had been quite a time since she had left Coerthas, let alone Ishgard and it was truthfully long overdue that she expanded her sights. “Beneficial and satisfying on all horizons, including a break from the cold.” She chuckled dryly before looking back to Vahalia. “Though, admittedly, I cannot recall the last time I existed within warmer climes. Hopefully, the weather is agreeable.” 

“I imagine so that it would be. Preferably for the trip there. So, shall I make the necessary arrangements then and be in touch? We would have much to organize before setting off.”

Settling into her seat even further, a left lifted to cross over the other as Cordelia faintly smirked over at Vahalia with a simple nod. “I will see that Wren and I are prepared.” 

“I look forward to it,” Vahalia replied lowly, raising to her feet as the woman swathed in rich, deep colors moved forward to lower and placed her lips to Cordelia’s cheek, the touch warm and in stark contrast to her icy demeanor. When she pulled back Vahalia caught the likeminded gaze, serrated and determined – never ceasing to do anything other than calculate, “I’ll be in touch. Sister.” she dared with a tender smirk.

Collab with: @promethea-silk

[artish-boi]

[nerdynikki94]

Mild IASIP S16 Spoilers

Wow... okay, how the fuck am I supposed to be normal about this show?! Guys, when Mac told Charlie about the threat of Mrs. Mac burning them with the car's cigarette lighter, tears just started falling out of my face. I didn't even have time to stop it. I was not ready for a casually abusive trauma drop in between, and used, as a joke from him. Like Mac is so fucked up that he isn't even aware of the abuse.

Growing up, society told him that no one loves a child as much as their parents do, so he told himself that the abuse, the cruelty, the neglect, that was all the greatest, most sublime kind of love he could ever ask for. To be treated with apathy and disgust is what feels like home.

So, from a young age, he clings to religion; it offers him the same kind of outward apathy. That eternal father doesn't reply back, he doesn't respond to Mac's fears and pain. And that community despises him (clearly evident in his own, long-standing homophobia). His paternal, religious figures teach him to hate homosexuals, and thus hate himself. That's home for him.

It's kind of breaking my heart regarding Macdennis. Maybe...they shouldn't be together??

Like, I know even the creators aren't taking these characters stories as seriously as I do. It will probably never be addressed sincerely (and it could only ever work, if Dennis actually showed up for Mac, without fear or hesitation). But the trauma really hits. I wonder, if maybe Mac and Dennis really can't make it work, when Mac's entire definition of love is so warped. He'd never ask anything of Dennis; if their history tells us anything, it's that Mac would gladly accept abuse, and be even kinder to Dennis for it. Which would give Dennis no incentive to change; he hasn't had that kind of growth yet.

And that just, it makes me really fucking sad.

Because, what if Mac only felt so encouraged to love Dennis because, deep down, he knew that Dennis would always possess that cruelty in him?

Still, they felt like old school Macden in these episodes, and I loved that. (Also, the innuendo surrounding them was almost obscene in the premiere - imo.)

So, yeah, maybe Mac did only pull back from Dennis lately because of his overall rejection of Mac in prior seasons. I mean, he clearly still felt something for Dennis in Season 15, but he seems to be done trying. And maybe that's all it is; maybe Mac is just tired of being in love alone.

But...

Maybe, Mac seemed such a goner for Dennis after ND because that unabashed vitriol aimed at him felt like home, the only love he's ever been taught to expect, the only love he feels deserving of?

And now that Dennis has stopped being so cruel, Mac no longer feels like Dennis could love him?

Because now, they're best friends, just like before.

[true-autistic-tales]

using ivan the terrible and his son as reference to make mcsm fanart :3

[larabar]

Sonic the Hedgehog and why he's impossible to write Perfectly

(including me i could not get him right if my life depended on it)

is this me giving up on trying to find the perfect way to write him? Maybe

i've been making lots and lots of notes on a bunch of his characterizations and the differences between them, including what makes any of them Better than the others and it's been .inconclusive

but i think ive found the problem. i can't accurately describe him as a character in general in one sentence without getting too specific or listing stuff like 'fast'

and i think that's one of the only things that stays consistent between all the different media he's in

one of my favorite examples of all this is sonic's lack of a solid theme. he has themes, yes. but they change with every game and tend to be the main theme Of the game. not just sonic. so he doesn't really have one of his own like most other characters.

just gonna plug this video again. it talks about sonic leitmotifs and character themes and how they're used to define each character and it's really cool check it out :]

all this comes with a blessing and a curse. there's always someone who will like one characterization and someone else who will Absolutely Despise it. and honestly that's just sonic's thing. especially with sonic media as a whole

there are definitely ways to mess up sonic's character. it's been done many times. but that's when the writers completely dismiss sonic's core values (but let's be honest even those are flexible and everyone still does them differently)

so. if someone has the golden formula to writing sonic please please please i am on my hands and knees i need to know how it's done

but until i figure it out. im just gonna stick to this. ->

TLDR: sonic is so complex and so simple at the same time and i cannot find any one way to describe him. there are infinite ways to write him and it's honestly better to just not worry about getting it perfect and have fun with it :]

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Could Cake ever bond with another person or clone? Also, could Cake ever bond with someone/thing to let it come in close contact with Cupcake?

(Of course! Clones are fully capable of love, be it familial, platonic, romantic and other types of love

Cake has already bonded with Cupcake, so she has the potential to bond with someone else

At this time, Cake is just very closed off, and honestly traumatised from losing Cupcake the first time, (she was drugged in order for the scientist to get Cupcake, and when Cake escaped her room, she found Cupcake on an operating table, presumably to be dissected, which would have killed them), so pretty much all her behaviour is a result of protecting Cupcake

She may open up over time and allow others to get close to her, and in turn, close to Cupcake)

[shepherds-of-haven]

So I read one of Halek's short stories, Silent Storms I think it was, and Im curious: is violence so deeply ingrained in Hunter culture that they cannot shake it despite the fact that the existence of Hunters is at stake? Bc of the fight with Thrau and how badly the audience wanted Halek to end him

I wouldn't say that violence is deeply ingrained in Hunter culture so much as tradition and ritual is: Hunters almost never deviate from custom because they value it so much, and custom demanded that Halek kill a challenger to his title. Otherwise it would reveal weakness in his reign and deliberately sow a potential threat for him to contend with in the future. People were eager to see Halek actually fight for his right to rule when he'd seemed so ambivalent about it before, and they wanted actual proof that he wanted to be their leader--one who also obeyed the traditions and laws they valued so highly. That fight was both about whether Halek was a suitable leader as a strategist and warrior (one who dealt with threats and insults without hesitation and as tradition demanded) and whether his heart was actually in it... So his choice to walk away and break tradition was more of a political message than it was a failure to slake their simple bloodlust. (Though to the Hunter people, a challenger who wants to fight the sol knows full well that he'll die if he loses, so if that's what happens, he does "deserve" it in their eyes, which could come off as bloodthirsty.) Hope that makes sense!

[helenofsimblr]

WIP whenever

I was tagged by the sensational @sparkiekong I am very slow doing it, my apologies

"Maybe if we had been raised together, I could have helped you to be better. And not this, materialistic, self absorbed, manipulative harlot, hungry for validation."

"What? But... we're blood!"

"I know. And that's a major fucking disappointment!"

[the-sharlyan-song]

The Pictomancer??

"What are you doing, Kupo" the voice came out of nowhere causing the Sharlyan to swivel his head this way and that. Dimitri had taken the morning to paint a rather pleasing location in the depths of the Shroud where a waterfall rushed over a study rock face into an abnormally clear pool surrounded by trees and lush greens. In all the Moons he had lived there now, he had still not adjusted to stray voices in the woods. This, however, was not a normal voice and these were not just anywoods.

"I am painting." it was the simplest answer he could muster and he found himself hoping that it would be all he needed to say to encourage whomever had come upon him to leave so that he might continue his project.

"Painting, strange magic you have there Kupo." The voice continued on, and again his head moved. This way and that way causing his long ginger hair to slap him in the face a few times before he finally just sighed. "Well come out already if you are going to keep talking at least let me see your face and why are you calling me Kupo? Are you pretending you are a Moogle today?" Dimitri was a master at keeping his voice even and polite even when inside he could feel his irritation growing. Painting was one of the few things in life that stilled his spirit besides an afternoon hike with Laurent and the untimely interruption had taken that from him. Still, Xixa had warned him of wood sprites, sylphs, and all forms of other creatures that lived in the Twelveswood and enjoyed sneaking up on those who believed they were alone.

"Well, Kupo. It may have to do with the fact I am what you call a Moogle." This was when Dimitri heard the air around him tear apart as something swiftly moved through it, the sound of wings buzzing past his ears and then there it was. The white-furred, black beady eyes, small winged and orange pom, shape of one of Eorzea's strangest creatures. "You may call me Mogbius"

At first, the Sharlayan sat there staring, this was in fact one of the things that Xixa had warned him about. It was not rare to see them in the woods, but it was rare for them to approach one of the humanoid races unless something unique attracted them and it was rather hard to determine what Mogbius could have found interesting at this stage in the conversation.

"You do know, Kupo, it is polite to introduce yourself." The creature nudged, leaning in just a bit further so that their noses almost touched "I am Mogbius." it said again "And you are?" Dimitri found himself swallowing hard, there were stories all over Sharlayan about not giving things that asked your name because you never knew what power they gained when they did. This was especially important to the Occult Investigators as their line of work was rather volatile at times.

"Pan!" he squeaked out, out of nowhere thinking of the cast iron frying pan he tripped over that morning on his way out of the cottage door, he had set it on the ground the night before to catch droplets of rain from holes in the roof and then forgotten that it was even there. Of course this way pre-coffee and he was rather surprised he didn't break his foot in the process.

"Pan, that is a strange enough name Kupo, but I accept this." Around his head, the moogle moved several times and then it came to a stop in front of him again. "You are a strange one, come here paint for me, Kupo. I must see if I see it again."

By this time the entire interaction had Dimitri on edge, but he turned his attention back to the scene on the easel and nodded "Is there something particular that you wish to see Mogbius?" one thing was true even in the strangest moments of his life, the Duskwight was always polite and kind, even when his heart was racing out of his chest like it was now.

"I noticed the glimmer when you were painting this, Kupo." outstretched a paw and it pointed towards the rushing water over the rocky face. "Paint more of that, Kupo, I must see up close to understand you."

A rather odd look appeared on Dimitri's face then he dipped his brush into the mix of white and grey that he had prepared for that particular part. That was one odd thing about the Shroud, almost none of the water he had ever seen while exploring carried that blue tone that you often saw in other bodies of water. The water here either carried shades of green, shades of grey, or if you were lucky sometimes both from the light that streamed through the trees and created the stunning aesthetic. "Alright then, I was just about to start the pool when I heard your voice." He commented finally, his hand reaching out steadily and his mind following after it, thankfully he had sketched the lines for this particular piece before he had arrived to paint it that morning. It made it rather easy then follow his process and begin to fill in the colors where they belonged.

"Yes, yes there it is again, Kupo." The Moogle said excitedly, spinning around in mid-air gleefully. "Can you not see it, Kupo, the water is moving in the painting." Its paw moved again to a particular place in the area Dimitri had just painted. "What you paint comes to life! Oh, that is very good. It has been a while since I met one of your kind, Kupo."

"One of my what? What do you mean kind? Is this one of your Moggle mind tricks? I've been warned about the lot of you a few times over by my Mentor." he brandished his brush then like it was a weapon even swiping at the air in front of him in erratic motions.

"You are a Pictomancer, Kupo." the creature replied proudly like it had just found a shiny little treasure in the woods all its very own. "You look young, Kupo, so you cannot be from long ago but I must know, has anything strange ever happened, Kupo, while painting?" The question made Dimitri blink and he found his head nodding. "Well yes, when I was younger I was painting a kitten and I accidentally trapped it on the canvas. Oh, they were most cross with me, and it took the Professors bells to figure out how to get it back out. They eventually did, of course, and the darling was not harmed at all. After that, I was not allowed to paint anything living and I had special lessons that discouraged me from ever doing that again. Eventually, I stopped using magic altogether, the Sharylans were not much for fighting, I did lean standard hand-to-hand combat. It was not until recently that I began exploring my magical capabilities again under the guidance of my Mentor." a frown appeared on his youthful face.

"It is just magic, Kupo, strong magic yes but just magic all the same. Instead of telling you no Kupo, they should have taught you how to use it. You can still learn Kupo, there is time." Mogbius finally came to a stop right beside Dimitrti again, watching the painting and what he could see there that was hidden from the Duskwights eyes.

"How can I learn what I cannot see?" It had always been a question that rose in him when magic was involved. He felt so stunted in his growth compared to his Sister, and this just made him feel a bit worse than he already had.

"It is an old art, Kupo. Far older than any Moogle had ever lived. You will figure this out, Kupo! Give it time." and right before Dimitri could ask another question the creature disappeared into thin air leaving him in the clearing alone again which was another thing that Xixa had warned him about. The never stayed long, often gave you more riddles than truths and then vanished leaving you with far too many questions for you to answer.

"Well fuck, now what." His eyes returned to the painting and he stared at it, trying to see the water move like the Moogle had but all he saw was paint.

[xaykwolf]

IYKYK

[diamondisunmemeable]

Y'know, as much as the Timeless Child plotline sucks ass, it at least attempts to say something about Time Lord society, even if it fails spectacularly (the child should've been literally anybody else, but I digress).

Ok, so the Time Lords stole regeneration. Not an especially shocking revelation, but what can we do with that? With the Ood being mentioned in the most recent episode, I remembered this tidbit from RTD's The Writer's Tale:

"They're filling in for the Time Lords"

And as I was thinking that they should explore this further, it occurred to me:

What better way to acknowledge the colonialist legacy of the Time Lords and begin to set things right than to share the power of regeneration with the Ood?

God knows how that would work narratively, but it would work so damn well thematically