#he wants to be a magician/alchemist when he grows up

[yostresswritinggirl]

Hello!! Congrats on 600 followers!! For the fifty requests, may I suggest something like the reader and Albedo babysitting Klee for a day and shenanigans ensue? Hope you're having a nice day and an even better week!

Klee and Albedo are my happy pills. And since I'm having trouble causing pain, this entered my mind and hhhh- thank you so much, anon! Funnily enough, I thought of something better and kinda flipped the request so have this!

Back to Earth

Hanging out with Klee and Albedo, fun times ensue! (masterlist)

Dragonspine is a place rarely visited by the likes of you for various, obvious reasons.

Yet despite its dangerous perils, Albedo is its most frequent visitor. Out of everyone in Mondstadt and probably the whole of Teyvat, his stay there is longer than anyone has been. Maybe that's one of the reasons why you don't like Dragonspine that much.

"(Y/N), Albedo is looking far again..." You hum in contemplation as you tilt your head.

The snow had always brought Albedo into a state of dissociation, and he'll have this distant look in his eyes that always worry you and Klee. Even if he's quick to dismiss or hide this part of him, and even if you and Klee are gullible at times, it was such rare moments where you two are just aware.

"He looks kinda sad..." You hum before patting Klee's head, who looks up from under her hat in front of you. And when you meet her eyes, she beams so warmly you couldn't help but smile back.

"Let's cheer him up, shall we?"

The Kreideprinz heaves out a heavy sigh after inhaling deeply, the lack of condensation makes him crease his eyebrows in growing frustration as the heavy feeling in his chest gnaws even deeper.

Breathe, Albedo reminds himself. But it wasn't enough to fight off the obvious guilt at the back of his head at another dead-end. This expedition should have yielded more results to help his research on the meaning of-

A pressure around his waist and chain of his coat forces him to snap his eyelids open, looking down to see the two sunshines in his life leaning over and under his arms to look up at him with such wide, bright smiles. His indifference turns into a soft smile before bringing you both into a hug.

"Hello there, you two. What are you doing here?"

"Everyone else from your team already descended from the mountain, you took a while."

"So we came up to fetch you!"

He offers a guilty chuckle paired with an apology for the delay and soon enough, you three were on your way back down the mountain. But with you babysitting Klee today, it's only normal that some detours are made here and there. Thankfully, that girl has a pyro vision.

You took Albedo's outstretched hand as he pulls you up to the rock formation that Klee suddenly wanted to climb. The cold seemed to pick up at this elevation and you were thankful for the coat Albedo owns that he leant you, it was a blessing that he never gets cold.

"Moment of birth!"

The solid ground beneath you rises as you three stood on the solar isotoma. Higher! Exclaimed Klee as Albedo picks her up and on to his shoulder, the view now equal as your party watches the misty fog of Dragonspine break away as if on will, to show the distant expanse of where Mondstadt lies miles away.

"Wow," a hand finds its way into yours as you leaned farther, engraving the display into your mind as much as you can in great detail. But your peace was interrupted when a red ball suddenly flies past you, plummeting down the scale of the rock formation for a good five seconds.

Before a distant explosion catches your ears.

The pregnant, frozen pause ends as you and Albedo turn to Klee who was still in Albedo's arms. But the spark knight doesn't meet your eyes. No, no, she was looking far below where the explosion sizzles.

"I think I saw some of those floaty bad guys from before down below!"

Ah. Poor Abyss Mage.

Somehow Klee's idea of a goodbye is unorthodox to the norm of society depending on the setting. Perhaps you expected the cool climate to reduce her 1000% energy to at least 500%, but as you duck down from another flying dodoco, you feel like the climate here was more of a disadvantage for you.

"Why is Klee mining so aggressively?!" You turned your head to the enabler, who had just covered his ears after another explosion.

"When it is done for the sake of others, Klee's enthusiasm skyrockets from the normal level," Albedo dodges a huge crystal chunk that almost nicked his shoulder. "Klee is also an avid miner of rocks."

"Klee- KLEE, THERE'S A HOLE IN THE MOUNTAIN, YOU CAN STOP NOW!"

"Big brother wants the crystal rocks, he's getting the crystal rocks!"

By some great divine blessing, all three of you somehow made it out alive with actual workable chunks to spare. The problem was that the explosions attracted lawachurls, boars, mages and even treasure hoarders to the chaos. Even if it was such an uneven fight, your combined efforts seem to have earned you victory.

Your arms wrapped tightly around the curled up bomber, backpack discarded on the grass as she readies herself for a scheduled rest after the exhausting mischief she had caused, "Sweetie, you're banned from Dragonspine..."

"But, (Y/N)... the crystals..." Albedo looks over his clipboard sketch after picking up the drowsy conversation.

"Let them live in peace..." You watched the little knight yawn as it makes you copy the same action subconsciously, eyes drooping as you leaned on each other. By the time Albedo had finished the outline of his sketch, you two had already fallen into an impromptu siesta.

The Chief Alchemist exerts a sigh of relief before going back to sketching your slumber. Even after the reminder of his weeks long effort for an empty research, you and Klee bombarding (literally) his melancholy somehow made his disarrayed thoughts clearer and assembled.

In a world of loose ends and tragedies, this lone Alchemist found himself two rays of the brightest sunlight.

Putting away the finished sketch, Albedo plants a kiss on yours and Klee's temples. He wears his purest smile audienced by none at the sight, and he muses with pure clarity in his voice,

"Maybe this is the meaning of life."

Ahah cute shit after that rage I just felt uwu

@albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @childe-simp-exe @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @director-boo-tao @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @tartuu

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Albedo #Albedo x reader #Klee #gender neutral #exile.flower #exile.goblet #sojourner special #fluff

[vampiresuns]

Interlude 1: Do Not Stand Over My Grave And Weep, Part 1

☽ PART 1: CARALUNA ☽

2.3k words. In which Milenko mourns Anatole, and a ghost that is not really a ghost runs into him in the Palace’s gardens.

CW: Death and discussions of it, allusions of drowning (no one actually drowns nor is in real danger of it).Feelings of depression, feelings of abandonment and displacement/diaspora. Me, once again, going berserk about non Christian theology.

The title comes from Caraluna by Bacilos. You can find the translation of the lyrics online, but I don’t like those.So if you’re feeling bold enough, you can ask me to translate if you don’t speak Spanish.

What to catch up with this series? You can do that here.

That Milenko’s magic worked beyond his full control didn’t mean he didn’t understand how it worked. He did.

First of all, not because he was clairvoyant it meant his magic was prophetic. He knew God had not made him a prophet — God really, really hadn’t. This was something he could do, that was all. Some people could cook, some people had language magic, some people were alchemists, some people called magic the science they could not explain yet. All Milenko had here was an Intuition and Imagination he could tap into like other people could not.

His granparent, Ilnya Radošević, could do it, his mother, Violeta, and uncle Atanasie could do it, he could do it. The only difference was his was channelled with water. It was, at best, a way to anticipate some things. It did not change the future, it did not gave him for control. The world spoke to him through the water, just like it spoke to everyone else through daily occurrences. The world spoke to him through water, like it would to anyone who learnt how to pay attention. 

Secondly, even then, not everything he saw was something that would happen. Sometimes the water just showed him things. Things that weren’t real but bloomed into his eyes, like a living canvas of his imagination. Water allowed him to focus, water sometimes allowed him to transport himself to a world where words were at arm’s reach. He didn’t control when the water would call him, but he could induce it, sometimes. He had learnt how to write this way. 

If he was asked to theorise about it, he would say that when it came to his imagination, the water absorbed it. It created a bubble where he could interact with it more vividly, seeing not water, but what his mind had conjured to later put into paper. The water never hurt him physically, he didn’t need to breathe, or worry about currents — because if he was in danger, the water and his magic would take him to his gate, and from there back to safety. All he needed to do was to see and to trust. 

That took him to his third and last point: Whether he liked it or not, water was tied with his subconscious. Sometimes water wouldn’t show him events to come, things he had made up, or keys to understand things. Sometimes the water would just show him what was locked into his mind and he would otherwise be unable to reach.

Usually, Milenko found a way to pour that into something else, like his poetry. A way to explore what he could only see in the water but had no way to verbalise without it. Moments and feelings his brain or soul kept from him, tucked away until they were released into water like little vessels which grew, and grew, and grew once submerged. 

It was a dangerous thing for a man who was mourning. 

He would never forget the day he knew Anatole was dead, the water delivering the news to him. It was the only time he had struggled to come up to the surface, a sob catching in his throat before his magic could guide him back it. Ursula, his familiar, had had to drag him by the neck of the shirt, to the sight of his terrified mothers and his uncle, because of course Violeta and Atanasie just knew that Milenko was in danger.

When he managed to speak again, all he could repeat was “He is dead, he is dead,” as he cried, clinging to his mothers like he did when he was a child.

He had then locked himself in Anatole’s morning room, his head against the closed case of his cousin’s piano. That had been where Amparo found him, in late hours of the evening. 

It was a nightmare. Their families were all living together in the Palazzo during the plague, even if in separate wings with their own disinfecting stations for when they came from the outside. They had decided it was better to stick together, and because the Radošević-Cassano thought of their friends as the family you chose, they had invited those of them they knew they could house. Milenko’s room-mate Octavia and their sibling Sabine, a young herpetologist who had begun to work as a Court magician and was strangely fond of Anatole, as Anatole was of them. They had also extended that to Leonore Kaur and Medea Pryce. Aside from Asra, they had to be Anatole’s closest friends. 

How do you tell someone their friend died? Milenko wasn’t as close to them as Anatole was but he was close enough to know what he meant to them, and them to him. They were some of the few people who knew what had really transpired between him and Decimo Lemione, Leonore was with Milenko when the water told him Anatole was in danger, that night they had found Anatole threatening Decimo to never touch him again, that night he had told everyone the truth. They already knew, of course, Leonore and Medea.

In that moment Milenko realised how much he owed them for his cousin’s healing, and now, someone had to tell them Anatole had died. That was only the beginning. The house was a stack of private griefs. It was mistaken to say some were more justified or greater than others, they were all different. You do not mourn a son in the way you mourn a friend, because you don’t love them the same anyway, even if it’s all love. 

However people thought it was lesser. Not Vlad and Louisa, of course, but people, in general. What did they they know? How could they know? How could they know the grief that came with losing the one person Milenko thought would ever understand him, even when Anatole didn’t really understand him?

Who else if not his cousin to understand what it was like to inherit wars you did not fight, about people who still hated you? Who else would understand feeling your blood boil up from the Earth like a Geyser, coming to you from mismatched corners of the world? Who else would understand that feeling of existing in a liminal space? 

Who else would understand Milenko when he asked how did one go back to a place one wasn’t born in, when the place follows you anyway? How do you go back to places which should’ve been home but turned into living hazards for people like you simply because you exist? Or raise your voice? How do you go back when a foreign city that’s not really foreign, since it’s seen you grow and has housed you safely? But still is a City that’ll never be all that you are?

Perhaps this was why the two of them ended up in Vesuvia, aside from Milenko being born there. How else do you connect ends which no one could foresee meeting if not through a zigzag City where the water ran like carrying new life into dissonant architecture? 

When Anatole, his wonderful cousin, who had put himself between the world and Milenko so many times when the world decided to be unkind to him, proclaiming he was not the great grandchild of a partisan, and the son of his mother, for him to have to stand through the world unheard. It was an echo of Milenko’s own heritage: Anatole saying those words and living by them, was Milenko saying he was not the great grandson of a partisan for him not to have earned the right to be joyful. Joy was his birth given right, and he would live by that. By joy and by love.

But how could you be joyful again when grief had made itself a place in your heart? An even bigger place at that. They said the Radošević were angry because they were full of grief, satellites amid a sea of people. Milenko had never understood that — righteous anger he did, but grief which turned to anger was not something he understood. Until Anatole died.

He still remembers one day when Anatole was 10, Milenko himself a little older, and they were playing at a park in Vesuvia. Some playground bullies had decided to pick on him, with his daydreamy quality and oddities pouring out of his mouth. Anatole had stepped between them without hesitation, despite being younger, despite being at the very least, a head shorter than all of them. 

Milenko had asked him about that years later. Anatole’s answer? “I guess it was my way of comprehending then, that you had been through enough violence in your life for you to have to stand that. No offence, Merlenko, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t entirely right either — Milenko might have not had a violent bone in his body, but he wanted to forget he didn’t when Decimo Lemione came through his mind. That was an exception, not the rule. Even if Count Lucio has steadily won a place beside that son of a bitch. 

After Anatole died, he had spent two days simmering in his own grief before he decided to take a bath. The water would wash his sorrows away so he could remember Anatole’s life had been a blessing, so his memory would be one too.

The water had other plans. Milenko didn’t notice he was zoning out with the sound of running water until it was too late. Given it was only a bathtub and not open water, Ursula did not make any fuss about it. When Milenko, zoned out to the rest of the world, walked into the bathtub with clothes, submerging himself in it, the water showed him Anatole. His cousin was everywhere. He came out of the water being unable to breathe. 

Then it happened again, and again, and again: every time Milenko zoned out looking at water, or walked into it, he’d see his cousin. Sometimes not at first, but he’d always show up. It had been the same for four years — four years where people continued to die, where he knew he should eventually move on, let go, seek someone to talk about it, but he couldn’t. Milenko already felt like all clocks should stop, like no dog should bark or wag its tail, that the world should stop moving so his grief might stop too. 

He knew that was not possible. He knew that would not be honouring Anatole’s memory, so every day he tried: he tried his best to snap out of it and live, but how was he supposed to live and write and create when the water that had previously channelled his creative energy, showed him his dead cousin all the time? 

Now he had seen him. Alive and breathing and made of flesh. It really had been his cousin standing by the fountain and talking to someone over it. He went over it in his head until he couldn’t think any more. There were no traces of his magic, he knew that. He knew how it felt to be drawn to the water, to feel one of messages coming and he felt none of that: one moment he was marvelling at the night he walked through, a gift of fragrant breeze, and the next, he was seeing an apparition. 

He got home before Octavia and when she arrived at their shared flat, she found him drinking. Milenko gave her a tired, sad look as she looked hesitant standing across the kitchen island he was sitting at. She leant forward, looking with the tenderness of friendship into his troubled brown eyes.

Milenko looked at his glass —he saw it swirl, even if for anyone else, the glass did not do anything. He put it away, and ran his hands through his curls. “You want to tell me something… where’s Sabine?”

Her hesitance resurfaced. “Talking to Medea, with Leonore… I do want to tell you something, but—” she said, elongating the ‘u’, “you’re drinking alone. I’ve only ever seen you drink during celebrations, and you don’t look like you’re celebrating anything.”

Milenko paused for a long time, offering the rest of his drink in the meantime to Octavia. She was right. Milenko drank in moderation. He had always believed life was made to be enjoyed, and wine was a way to gather friends around. Even then, he never allowed himself to get drunk, and he wasn’t, but he was still drinking for no reason. Well, sort of. 

“If I told you I saw someone I thought was dead, would you think I was crazy?”

Octavia took his hand. “No more than I already think you are, and that’s complimentary... is it the water again?”

She sounded like she knew something. “It wasn’t the water. I– Octavia, I saw him, as alive as I remember him, not having any clue of who I was.” 

With the confession, a dam broke. Milenko began crying inconsolably as Octavia held him, rubbing his back as he spoke, tripping over his words about seeing Anatole again, lamenting on how this was not how it was supposed to be. The water was not supposed to turn against him, the water was supposed to keep him safe. 

“It’s been four years. Four awful years, I should be over it—”

“No,” Octavia interrupted him, “you’ve carried forward to the best of your capacity, bearing with something most people do not have to deal with. We don’t treat Amparo poorly when she has bad days because there’s too many dead tethering to her, do we, Milan?”

He sniffled. “No.”

“Milenko— I need you to listen to me: I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but you’re not crazy. You aren’t seeing things. Milenko, your cousin is alive.”

For the first time in four years, the distant sound of the canals in the City brought Milenko answers instead of torments, even if he had already half figured it out.

“I know how.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. 

“Asra.”

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #milenko #octavia rei #anatole's apprentice rewrites

[apprenticevida]

I know you lovelies like playlists, so here: have a sometimes updated, mostly chronological WIP playlist for Vida!

It’s about 12 hours long, because I’m a pack rat.

Track explanations under the cut. Because it’s a lot.

Benediction And Dream: I like this as an intro song. Set in Galbrada. (I hc Galbrada as Fantasy!Spain, but for all intents and purposes, consider a re-skinned Ohio)

La Bruja: Vida’s theme song

South of the Border through Smalltown Boy: Vida’s youth and adolescence. They’re queer and nonbinary in a place that doesn’t know what to do with that. Vida’s parents love them, but they aren’t exactly accepting of them. Nica and Alpin are both religious and mean well, they really do, but to have their firstborn daughter go against so much of what they believe is hard. Vida’s relationship with their siblings is strained as they grow up, but Dáibhidh (Dai for short) and Alma become their closest friends and biggest supporters. Sachairi is still very young and doesn’t really care about any of this. He loves his big sister and doesn’t understand what the deal is. (Vida is misgendered a lot by everyone except Alma and Dai.)

Spanish Ladies: Vida leaves Galbrada for Vesuvia. Nica and Alma see them off.

The Island through Rye Whiskey: WE’RE ON A BOAT. Sea shanties and drinks aplenty! This is Mazelinka’s ship because I’m a trite author she and Duende are friends. Maz is one of the first adults that tries to understand Vida, uses their pronouns, etc. Julian is also there.

Hey Mami: Vida arrives in Vesuvia! They’re an adult in a new country! Why are all these people looking at them like that???!!!

Under My Skin: Homesickness is weird. They miss their family but there was so much stress they had to bury deep down.

God is Alive Magic is Afoot through The Mystic’s Dream: Duende Time.

Sea of Love through Gooey: Asra Time. Vida and Asra fall for each other hard and fast. A couple of dumb virgins.

Shadow of the Hunted: Muriel Time.

Mama’s Room through Genderqueer Love Song: Vida and Asra ARE ADULTS DOING ADULT THINGS (mostly each other)

Third Eye Sixth Sense: Oh yeah they’re supposed to be learning magic from Tía Duende. Hey, this magic stuff is really fun! Vida’s really good at it!! Duende sees their potential and devises plans.

The Court of the Crimson King: Duende brings Vida to the palace to formally introduce them to the Count and Countess of Vesuvia. This is basically a ploy by Duende to curry favor with the court. Vida is smart and pretty, and despite not wanting to leave the shop they do well at court.

The Soundmaker: Vida’s all goo-goo eyes at the Countess. Nadia is the most beautiful and elegant woman they’ve ever met.

God Help You Dumb Boy through Doctrine: Lucio Time.

My Type through Livin’ La Vida Loca: Vida’s life in Vesuvia. Lots of beautiful people. Exploring submission with Nadia. Oh hey, Julian’s here to stay? Vida catches feelings for everyone. Hanging out with Asra and Muriel, generally having a great time.

Safe, Now: Everything is good and nothing hurts. They’re with Asra, talking magical theory with him and Duende; learning to contact The Arcana; learning how to play the violin with Julian; dancing with Nadia; quiet forest nights with Muriel. Things should stay like this forever!

The Plague: ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯

Severed Soul: Asra Time OVER. Vida believes there’s something, ANYTHING that can be done to help, but Asra is antsy to leave Vesuvia. The Red Plague is only getting worse and more prevalent in the city, if they don’t leave now, they will lose everything. Vida tells him to go, they won’t follow. This is the beginning of the end.

Season of the Witch through Mystic Woman: Tía Duende is infected with the plague. Vida water skypes home and Nica is on the first boat to Vesuvia. Through various deals Duende’s made, she’s able to last a lot longer than expected. Nica makes it in time to help…

Spanish Ladies through La Llorona: …but she also catches the plague. Duende has nothing else she can barter, and Nica dies quickly. Heartbroken that she couldn’t do anything to save the closest thing she had to a daughter, Duende follows quickly. Vida is left alone to mourn. The ports are shut down. They clean out the home of anything that could be contaminated. Soon all that’s left are memories. Vida closes the shop for good, alone in an empty building. Quarantined until it’s obvious they haven’t caught the plague. They’re lucky, it’s a miracle they weren’t infected after all that time.

Pretty Little Head: The trauma of all this loss breaks Vida. A grief-induced breakdown. The beginning of short-lived hook-ups, including grief-sex with Muriel.

Coffee through Kinky: Vida leaves for the palace after Nadia finds out what happened. She invites Vida to stay as long as they want, all their needs will be taken care of. Without Duende to play interference, Vida gets to know the Courtiers (At Midnight). Vida’s grip on reality becomes tenuous the more they visit the Arcane Realm. In the physical realm they just go full-tilt on the hedonism of the palace. Lots of drinking, lots of smoking, lots of bad decisions they can’t remember. Valerius becomes a drinking friend of sorts. They shut out people emotionally who try to help, but become desperate to be wanted by anyone.

Ay Mi Pendejo through Marat/Sade: Lucio Time. Vida can indulge in self-harm, self-hate, violent aggression, and just absolute toxic behavior with Lucio. Things stop being a game though when they “wake up” to how self-centered Lucio is with all his power and riches. Vesuvia is dying around them, but nothing changes. The love-hate they feel becomes just regular hate. Maybe they should take Julian up on his offer to actually help the city in his clinic.

Dr. Flynn through Le Moribund: Vida tries to help, but still struggle to take care of themself. Whatever luck kept them safe from the plague is running out. A gift of red lipstick from someone was made with the plague beetles. When they notice the red in their eyes isn’t going away, they cut and run. Muriel is the only one they tell in person. A letter to Julian and Nadia is sent from the docks and takes too long to arrive. The Plague drains their magic as quickly as their life when they’re at the Lazaret.

Your Protector: Asra arrives to a shop that’s been empty for years. He’s too late, Muriel tells him. Vida left for the Lazaret months ago and never returned.

Bones through Cliquot: Asra finds Vida’s remains at the Lazaret and knows this isn’t fair. They had so much life they could have lived. They wanted to help, Asra ran. A plan is made. A call is made for all magicians, physicians, alchemists, anyone to find a cure for the plague as Lucio shows signs of the plague.

Gymnopédie No. 1 through New Men With Old Man Named: Necromancy pays, but comes with a cost. A deal is made, Vida’s alive, but with no memories, skills, or abilities from their life before. Asra is their caretaker, teacher, and friend interchangeably. They are the one who teaches Vida everything they will come to know, and over time their personality returns, but their old insecurities are back in full force.

Fluid through The Floating Bed: Vida’s feelings for Asra grow and blossom. This was going to be the beginning of Asra’s route before I got caught up in Julian’s route in the game. I’ll probably rearrange the playlist to fit the prologue here and move these songs elsewhere.

Miri’s Magic Dance through Not Human Anymore: Julian’s route, no other LIs. Vida is utterly devoted to Julian, but ends up enabling and echoing his self-sacrificing behavior. Co-dependent. Reversed Ending.

Big God through Love Like You: An assorted jumble of unorganized songs. Most of these are for Nadia and Portia. When I say WIP, this is the In Progress portion.

#vida vibes #apprentice vida #I hope you like text #this is basically the outline for Viva Mi Vida #planning viva mi vida #oc playlist #the arcana oc

[clair-void-ance]

Lucky Love (1/3)

Pairing: Cedric the Sorcerer x Alchemist! Reader

Word Count: Roughly  words

Warnings: Mental health mention 

Notes: Oof, this took longer than I thought it would; sorry about that. I ended up making this into a three part series in order to pan out the story with a tad more detail, so more chapters will be posted soon! Hope you guys like it :) Feedback and requests are always welcomed <3 This ones for my boi @queen-of-british-tea !!!

“The secrets of alchemy exist to transform mortals from a state of suffering and ignorance to a state of enlightenment and bliss.”

― Deepak Chopra

“He wishes he were a skilled poet, it would fit his chosen image perfectly; the poor, tragic, tortured artiste. But he has no talent for words, neither for paints nor music; his uselessness is tremendously total.”

― Curtis Ackie

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

Being born the daughter of Master Erwin, there was never a doubt that your destiny would be written in the stars. His blatant adoration for the universe beyond Earth’s doorstep had been clear to you from an early age and, given you were his only child, he desired nothing more than to pass all of his knowledge down to you. 

The only issue that arose with that desire was that your focus wasn’t entirely directed towards space; your ambitions were more...Earth-based. 

Completely unbothered by this fact though, your father set out on a journey to find the most fitting subject he could study with you. Because, in his eyes, your interests were his interests; and having a relationship with his daughter was far more important than any of the mysteries the vast and never-ending universe could hold. 

The search didn’t take as long as he expected though, because your likes and dislikes fit surprisingly well with a subject he was very familiar with in his schoolboy years: Alchemy. 

By interpretation, Alchemy is a “sort of terrestrial astronomy” that deals with all sorts of human and worldly aspects. Which fit both of your interests to a “T,” thankfully.

When that was decided, he began to introduce you to the magical world of alchemy and what it entailed. Each day he would offer new texts on Alchemy, Magic, and the universe as well as provide fresh insights on the universe’s effects on the human body. What filled you with the most intrigue though, was how you could use the items the world offered you in order to heal, change, and create other living organisms. So much so that you ended up working together to create a spell and potion that turns rocks into ravens.

Sadly, your passion for contributing to the world around you was so blinding that you completely forgot about how you would go about implementing that knowledge and passion.

That is, until you had been told you were to be sent off to a real academy by your mother. The one place you did not want to end up going.

That fact had left you slightly heartbroken since you could no longer spend your days endlessly pouring into Alchemical books and having passionate discussions with your father, but excited you with the prospect of a proper education…….One where you would have to attend a school that had none of your friends. One where you would have to spend all of your days and nights toiling over the assignments your teachers assigned to you. One at Hexley Hall.

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

After two hours of travelling to the esteemed ‘Academy of Wizardry,’ you had begun to feel stiff and in dire need of a decent stretch. Even if it meant standing outside in the chill September wind. 

At this point though, you were willing to do anything to rid your body of its mental and physical stress. Up until now, the only thing that kept you distracted from the bile your anxiety had been threatening to dispel from your body was reading the book your father gave you: “Distilling Nature’s Secrets: The Sacred Art of Alchemy.” But you had already finished that in the first hour of the ride and were now left with the gnawing feeling of dread that came with being thrown into an unfamiliar environment; one where you wouldn’t have the comforting words of your father to calm you down.

Before you could drive yourself further into a sense of dread, the sight of a tower looming over a hill stole all of your attention.

Pulling yourself to the carriage’s window, you saw the place that you would be spending the rest of your childhood at: Hexley Hall. 

The school that would teach you everything you wanted to know about the ancient art of alchemy. 

Its windows glistened with evening dew and its structure held a contrast you were not familiar with until now. Growing up in Enchancia’s castle, you had only known modern, sleek, and upbeat architecture. Hexley Hall though, defied all of those tropes. It possessed intricate designs, a soulfully picturesque look, and an eerie aesthetic. One that you felt you could get used to. Especially if the inside held a matching look.

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

After making a swift landing, you thanked your coachman, acquired your luggage, and began to make your way towards the crowd of fellow newcomers. 

The entire entrance to the school was bustling with excited new students, and their confused glances and demeanors were beginning to ease your anxious mind. Maybe everyone else was as 'in the dark' as you were...Maybe you weren’t alone in your strife.

That discombobulation you all possessed didn’t last long though, and soon enough you were all ushered in by what seemed to be one of the teachers. After being brought into the Great Hall for a brief rundown of how the school worked and who would be teaching you all, schedules were floated to their respective owners and maps of the school were provided to each student. 

Looking down at the map, each child had a glowing mark on where their assigned dorm was located. Ironically enough, yours was in the area dedicated to potioneers, alchemists, and other magicians dedicated to the physical arts. 

Dinner commenced shortly after introductions were made and, after a bout of awkward shuffling, you found a quiet location to eat and began your trek to your new dormitory.

By chanting a wandless spell to the map, an arrow led to your room where you began to unpack. 

Given you didn’t bring many items besides books and clothes, you quickly laid yourself down on the comfortable mattress and ran through the events of the day. Although you still hadn't met any friends yet, you did gain insight into the place you'd be spending the rest of your teenage life at.

Putting aside those thoughts, you curled around your pillow and fell into a blissful sleep. 

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

Schedule: Year One- Semester One

Student: (y/n) Erwin

Study: Alchemy

Study Order

Breakfast

Class One: Potions

Class Two: Intro to Alchemy: The People, The Places, and The Items

Class Three: Intro to Magic: Wands and Guidelines

Class Four: Gnosticism, Occultism, and Esoteric Beliefs

Lunch

Class Five: Magical Creatures and The Human Spirit

Dinner

Looks about right, you thought to yourself as you made your way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Although you would have preferred Alchemy as the starting class of your day, potions was definitely a good choice as well. 

What bothered you more than the order or your classes though, was who would have to interact with during these assigned classes. 

But that’s a problem for later, you thought to yourself as you devoured the first of many breakfasts at the Wizarding School of Enchancia. 

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

Being the first person to class, you had the advantage of picking the best seat in the classroom. At least, that was what you hoped to happen until a mop of multi colored hair caught your eye. 

Although you didn’t mind the place he had sat in before you could choose, he was sitting in the spot next to the one you DID prefer. 

that doesn’t matter you thought, maybe he could be my first friend….He couldn’t be that bad could he?

You decided to try your luck and hesitantly tapped the young boy's right shoulder. Whipping his head around he gave you a questioning look that you assumed meant: "??? Can I help you?"

"Do you mind if I sit next to you? I like the feel of this corner and you don't look half as bad as the rest of our class."

His startled, yet hopeful, look gave you the impression he didn't get approached much. Let alone get told that he looked welcoming. 

Despite that though, his face softened and he said, 

"Really?....I suppose I don't mind." 

He cautiously lifted his palm to you and said, "My names Cedric. I'm coming here to become the next Royal Sorcerer. What about you?"

With a firm grip, you shook his hand and settled down into your seat. Taking out your schedule you replied, "(y/n) Erwin! I'm studying to become the Royal Alchemist!"

Gripping your chin with an inquisitive look, you added a quick, "You wouldn't happen to be related to Goodwyn the Great would you? I thought I recognized you at first, but I couldn't quite place from where…."

"Uhm….Yeah, I am. D-did you live at the castle as well?"

You fiddled with your papers until they were straightened properly and looked at him, saying, "Yep. My dad's the Royal Astronomer, so we get to live with him at the castle…..I've seen you around you know….I always meant to say hi, but your dad and sister seemed to take up most of your time."

He rubbed his wrists anxiously and let out a, "yeah, they tend to do that…...but I digress. Do wanna compare schedules? I don't have any friends either, and you don't seem that bad as well…."

Looking down at the schedule he gripped in his hand, you noticed that it didn't seem so far off from yours. You were both new to the school after all, so it made a tad bit of sense. Luckily you wouldn't have to split up very much for the next couple of years.

Schedule: Year One- Semester One

Student: Cedric Goodwyn

Study: Sorcery

Study Order

Breakfast

Class One: Potions

Class Two: Intro to Alchemy: The People, The Places, and The Items

Class Three: Intro to Magic: Wands and Guidelines

Class Four: Intro to Magic: Practice

Lunch

Class Five: Magical Creatures and The Human Spirit

Dinner

Surprisingly, it seemed as though you would be seeing a lot of each other. Which didn't seem to bother either of you that much. After confirming your new friendship and planning your day out together, you both set up your supplies and began your first class of the day.

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

After cleaning up your respective area of the shared potions table, you reminisced on how well the class had actually gone. Despite both of you being new, you and Cedric seemed to work in a sort of synchronized state. Even your teacher pointed out how good you two were together. This had made you both proud, but you noticed that it had made Cedric especially happy. 

Given the way that he had acted and responded to your questions, you inferred that his home life…..probably wasn't that great. Especially if the tiniest amount of praise made his day ten times brighter.

Which is why you had made a vow to yourself that you would do everything in your power to make him realize his self worth. After all, not everyone had a supportive father and family like you did. 

Picking up the last of your mess, you threw your bag over your robbed shoulder and asked, “Would you mind if I sat with you in our other classes as well today? I’m not really…..friends with anyone else here yet and we seem to make a good team. Plus, you seem really sweet.”

“I’d love to!,” he said in an excitable raised voice. His face broke out in a flustered blush at how desperate he sounded and quickly let out a, “I mean, if that’s what you want to do…”

To that, you chuckled and lightly punched his shoulder saying, “Of course I would you dork. Now let's hurry up so we can get the best seats in our next class."

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

After that day, the two of you were like two peas in a pod. Whenever you both had a class, were going somewhere, or ate, you were attached to the hip. Even teachers knew that, if they couldn’t find one of you, they wouldn’t find the other either as well. 

For you two, there was never a subject left unstudied, never a prank left undone, and never a conversation left undiscussed.

It started off with you both teaming up in your shared classes, meeting for meals, and talking on the way to class, but soon branched off outside of school. 

With coaching from you, and years of positive reinforcement on your end, Cedric had been coaxed out of his hesitant and neglected shell. All it took was one fond look and a caress of his hair from you and Cedric was turned into mush. The love you showed him through the years made him see that not everyone was out to get him. And not everyone was untrustworthy. 

In summary, you brought hope in humanity back into his life. Something that he surely would have gone off the deep-end without.

To others, it seemed as though you had put him under a spell and transformed him into a new man; Cedric had never felt so confident in his life.

 Especially since he never had anyone to support him. Until you, that is……

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

(Year 7 at Hexley Hall)

Flicking your wand in a cursive “J” formation, you pointed your wand at the painted black stone and whispered, “Avifors.” 

Within seconds, the rock morphed in size and began to take the shape of a sleek, black raven. 

Pecking the tip of your index finger, it cocked its head at you and turned to inspect Cedric.

Cedric, gazing back at the bird, looked absolutely stunned at the sight of this seemingly never-heard-of spell and immediately began to shift his eyes to you and then raven. He wasn’t sure where you had learned that, since you were only taking alchemy classes, but he was beyond interested in knowing.

“Merlin’s Beard! Did you make that spell up all on your own?”

“Not exactly,” you chuckled, “My father and I worked for days to come up with the correct spell and paint concoction when I was a child. But it worked out, and now I have a way to create any type of bird to do my bidding!”

Setting his chin in his palm, he began to gaze fondly at the scene in front of him and think about all the things he has yet to learn about you. 

“Would it be alright if you taught me that spell? I know it’s yours and everything….. but it’s too bloody brilliant to be left unpracticed.”

“Sure!.......I'll write it down for you by tomorrow.”

You blushed and stared down at your feet. Showing him you and your father’s spell had made you nervous at first, thinking he would find it childish compared to his studies. But his unwavering attention in it showed you that maybe it wasn’t that bad after all…..

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

After that day, you knew that you were in love with Cedric. He had been with you at every step of the way through your years at Hexley Hall, and you knew that he would be there for you for days to come. Working at Enchancia’s castle wouldn’t stop the bond that you both had formed over the years. Especially since you two would be working close together. 

With each other until the end, that’s what you both had promised one another. 

‘If only it was in a romantic sense,’ you thought to yourself, gazing up at the great expanse in the night sky. 

With a huff of a laugh, you kicked the rocks in front of you. 

As if…………..

#sofia the first #cedric the sorcerer x reader #cedric the sorcerer #cedric the sensational #cedric x reader #stf #sofia the first imagine #sofia the first x reader #sofia the fandom #alchemy #enchancia #hexley hall #I hope you like it uwu!! #hope you all are doing fine as well!!! #will hopefully post the rest soon

[nadiaportia]

A Countess’s Masquerade

Summary: A surprising visitor makes an otherwise unpleasant party worthwhile for Nadia.

Word count: ~5.3k

Very much inspired and endorsed by @leatherandsaltybitters thanks to her July Prompt! As soon as I read it, the idea came up in my head and thus this little fic was born. It was quite fun to write and I hope it’ll be equally entertaining for everyone to read~.

“Noddy, darling! Where are you~?” Nadia flinched at her husband’s nasal voice carrying over to the private balcony. She wasn’t hiding from him, of course she wasn’t, but rather taking a break from… just everything and everyone. She liked a good party as much as the next person but this revelry? It threatened to overwhelm her, more than any party in Prakra had ever done. She had been in Vesuvia for three years now and this was her third masquerade so she felt that she should be used to this… or at least get used to it. 

Nadia leaned on the ledge, propped on her elbows and rubbed her temples. Everything was getting to her even though it was only an hour past midnight, and she was sure if she were to have another drop of cloudberry liquor, she'd have enough of it for the rest of her entire life. 

A good white wine would suit her well now and perhaps even lift her spirits to get through the night. With people such as Asra, Julian and their friends it was bound to be an entertaining evening, but besides them… the nobles cared more about getting as wasted as their livers allowed them to, some didn't even forget their agenda on a party and at least at her first masquerade she had to guide Lucio away from nobles trying to lure him into lowering their taxes or giving them money if they were to fulfill half-assed requests. But the man was a grown adult so if he fell for an obvious scam, that was none of her business. 

She took in a deep breath of the chilly night air and looked at the starry sky. The heat of the day had subsided and the gardens were full of masquerade guests. From the balcony she got a good view at those dancing, drinking and laughing, be it at the huge fountain in the middle of the garden or even the maze. 

She saw how a reveler dressed as an orange butterfly pulling another one dressed as a black cat along with them out of the maze and into the woods. Luckily if she had the need to hook up with someone, she had one of the various rooms in the Palace at her disposal, although she understood the thrill of doing so outdoors where someone could walk in at every moment.

"Nadi." She looked over her shoulder at hearing her name. "Here you are." Asra, wearing a opalescent white costume and a small mask with texture resembling snakeskin, leaned with his back next to her against the ledge and took a deep breath. Something about him… was decisively out of balance, and she could feel it wasn't just Lucio being himself or people acting up in general.

"Asra. Are you enjoying the night?"

He nodded, perhaps a tad too quickly, and put on an easy smile. "Yes, don't you worry about me." He waved a hand. "It's just… wow, the Masquerade." His eyes widened in exaggeration for emphasis. 

Nadia laughed. "Yes, truly. It's… quite the event. I don't know if I'll ever grow used to this particular flavor of revelry." She eyed her friend curiously as he brushed a white lock of hair behind his ear and unconsciously dabbed at a small collection of sweat beads with his sleeve. 

"Are you alright?" She reached out and gently touched his elbow. He gulped and nodded. 

"Oh, of course, why shouldn't I be? I think the cloudberry liquor is just so strong that it gives hallucinogens a run for their money." He laughed awkwardly, and Nadia decided to drop the matter. 

Asra could be very elusive if he wanted to, and there was never a way to coax anything out of him that he didn't give up voluntarily. In a way, he was the best secretkeeper you could ask for - he'd never tell. 

"Very well." She coughed. "How's the weather?"

Asra snorted. "Sayelle and Julian decided to hold an impromptu duet of a Galbradan folk song, it was quite impressive." 

Nadia smiled to herself. "Of course it was. They know how to work a stage."

"I'm surprised Julian didn't slur through his part."

"Noddy!" Lucio's loud voice rang over through the air, this time closer. The Countess and the magician looked at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes. 

"Do you know why?"

"There's guests from Zadith and he wants to make a good impression - which on his own is nigh impossible already when he's sober."

"Well, at least it might be interesting to meet some new people." Nadia stood upright and straightened her dress. "It has been a while since I was in Zadith for the last time. Let's see how much things have changed."

They made their way through the groups of party-goers and entered the ballroom. Here the air was artificially kept cool and it really was a necessity considering that the majority of people were in there. 

"Oh, Asra, thank you for finding Noddy for me." A sweaty hand softly caressed her shoulder and soft lips pressed a kiss on her mask.

Asra's eyes were steely but he nodded in acknowledgement. "You're welcome, sir."

Lucio grinned and put an arm around Nadia. She smiled and touched his arm. "I heard something about a delegation from Zadith?"

"Oh, yes! Some alchemists and a bunch of nobles, small fish but we kinda need their backing because of the trade routes and all that other jazz." He made a vague hand movement. Nadia nodded slowly. "Very well… let’s see what we can do then. Nothing like negotiations during a birthday party."

Lucio let out a dramatic sigh. "So rude, I know. But let's get to it. Oh, hey, where are you going?"

Asra had turned and began walking back into the crowd. "Huh?"

"C'mon, the more the merrier."

"For 'negotiations'?"

"Hm, sure." Lucio grinned. "You're already in with the upper echelons, might as well see the inner workings." He let go off Nadia and put an arm around Asra's shoulder.

Asra's gaze met Nadia, who shrugged as a response. It couldn't do any harm, she thought. His eyes briefly wandered around the room as if he was searching for someone and then sighed.

"Alright, why not?"

They walked up the stairs and onto the upper level of the ballroom, where a group of people stood together in extravagant costumes. Lucio introduced them and Nadia was surprised that somehow he managed to come across as decently put together. The Zadithi nobles were eager to chat with her and were impressed by Lucio's military campaigns, falling easily for his charm. Nadia and Asra leaned back and she was about to suggest they'd leave to another party room, when -

"Oh, apologies, I was exploring some of the rooms in the West Wing! Whoever designed them deserves all the praise." A clear melodic voice rang over them and everyone turned their head towards the woman that approached them. Her costume could only be described with one word: pink - to be specific, the bright hot variant. The fabric was light, resembled ruffled silk and comfortably fit around her body, the dress ended halfway along her thighs but another extravagant piece of fabric continued in the back similarly to a peacock's tail without touching the floor. Her high-heeled shoes were of the exact same hue as the dress, just like the gems around her neck and her earrings. The mask she wore depicted a flamingo. On the vast majority of people, this outfit would have been considered a fashion sin and no doubt resulted in their imprisonment but somehow… it worked fantastically on her. Nadia had no idea how but it did.

The woman herself had impeccable posture as she walked towards them, shoulders low, back straightened and her head held confidently high. Her brown skin meshed well with the vibrant pink of the dress and her dark brown hair was fixed in an updo. Through the mask she saw a pair of eyes the color of dark honey and her full lips were painted a dark red, almost black. 

"Gentlepeople of the Zadithi court, I hope I am not interrupting something." She said as she inclined her head towards the delegation who apparently were her companions all along. 

"Oh, Marquesa, no, you're most welcome to enter the conversation actually." One of them, a tall man with golden skin, said and bowed to her. "We’re actually having a lovely conversation with our hosts - whom, if I recall, you haven't met as of yet!"

To Nadia's surprise, she heard Asra cough and turned to see him looking suddenly very out of it. 

"Really?" The woman made a surprised face and looked from Lucio to Nadia to Asra. "Well, we have already met, have we not, young magician?" Her eyes were on Asra for a brief moment and her eyes twinkled until she turned her attention back to the Count and the Countess. Nadia noticed that her gaze lingered on her for maybe a little too longer before she spoke next.

"Your excellencies: Lady Heloisa de Rubalcaba of Calpacia, representative of the Zaan of Cartagenth in foreign affairs." She made a curtsy and her costume rustled. "To your services, Count Lucio and Countess Nadia."

"We are very honored to have you, Lady Heloisa.” Nadia replied and nodded respectfully. The name vaguely rang a bell in her mind but she couldn’t recall precisely in what context. 

“Likewise.” Lucio added and nodded with a hand on his chest. 

Even though they were on Vesuvian soil and the local sovereigns, etiquette still demanded foreigners with a higher title were to be treated as guests of honor. She wondered what room this marquesa was given - although she did not recall invitations being sent out to the empire of Calpacia to the far West of the continent. Lucio seemed to think the same.

“Cartagenth, Calpacia… if I remember correctly, I stopped sending invitations after them being ignored for three years straight.” His tone was amicable but had an edge to it. Lady Heloisa shrugged. 

“That is very much true, Count Lucio. I was on a diplomatic mission in Zadith meeting my dear friends,”, she winked in the general direction of the Zadithi delegation, “when your invitation reached the council - and since they are allowed to bring guests and I was at the moment the guest of honor at court, here I am!”

“Especially because you mentioned never having been here, Marquesa!” A woman with a headscarf and a fennek mask claimed. 

“Yes.” The marquesa sighed. “The diplomatic relations between Cartagenth and Vesuvia are not the best, after the Vesuvians’, err, I guess one could refer to it as a “business”, in Karnassos, ancient allies of ours from back when they were the local military power.”

Nadia’s eyes went to Lucio who was busy inspecting the tips of his gauntlet. She remembered a history lesson many, many years ago in her childhood, about the nations to the west of Prakra where the kingdoms of Bizatena, Calpacia and Karnassos had joined forces to break down a merchant revolt. 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Asra whispered. A single bead of sweat was rolling down his temple and Nadia raised an eyebrow. Was he that unnerved because of the marquesa?

“Give me a few minutes, Asra, then I’m with you.” She whispered back and gently touched his arm. Asra looked already more at peace and touched her hand reassuringly. 

“Mirror room.” With that, he turned and left.

“Either way, hopefully that can be water under the bridge now - who knows, maybe one day we will need to support each other.” 

“Hm, I think that Vesuvia is doing quite fine as of lately, but thank you for the offer, Lady Heloisa.” Lucio’s voice was honey but the slight curl in his lip indicated to Nadia that he was already displeased with her attitude. One corner of the marquesa’s lips turned upwards and she let out a sigh. 

“That might be true but you know - you never know. Unless you can see the future thanks to a crystal ball.” She winked at Lucio as if they were old friends planning a conspiracy together. Lucio’s cold grey eyes fixated on her warm brown ones and even though most of his face was hidden by the large peacock mask he wore, Nadia saw his ears turning beet red. The marquesa snatched a glass of rosé prosecco from the platter of a bypassing waiter.

“Which I quite frankly cannot - I possess no magical talents, unlike you.” She nodded at the members of the delegation. “For you, my friends, and the students of the alchemical academy of Zadith.” She toasted towards the Zadithi and downed the content of the flute in one go. 

“So this is all that brings you to Vesuvia, ‘diplomatic relations’? As for my husband’s military endeavors, that one has been solved after a court hearing - we paid reparations to the town of Karnassos, but of course I understand why its old allies might bear a grudge towards those who harmed the representative of their sister city.” Nadia stated curtly and tried to ignore Lucio’s questioning look that basically said ‘We paid reparations?’.

“Not exactly, it was also my own curiosity. Especially when I heard that the Countess happened to be a former Princess of Prakra.” Lady Heloisa’s eyes twinkled and her smile turned into something more genuine than the sardonic grin she had put on when talking to Lucio. “That certainly got my attention, and I am glad to know I did not come all the way here to be disappointed.” 

Was the marquesa trying to flirt with her, in front of her husband nonetheless? Bold, but… 

“Either way, thank you - I did not know that the matter had been solved, I thank you for clearing it up to me.”

“You’re more than welcome, Lady Heloisa.”

“And I mean it; your reputation precedes you, Countess Nadia; your work as a stateswoman in the service of your home country is known even to the Calpacian court and your sisters Nafizah and Navra have told me much about you when I was in Prakra two years ago. Quite a shame we did not meet earlier - you seem a most interesting character.” The last sentence was to Nadia’s surprised said in accented but very sure spoken Prakran. At the same time she remembered almost out of nowhere why exactly the name rang a bell. 

“Oh, you’re the playwright! The one who wrote The Dying Swan of Doña Astros.” Navra had raved about this play for at least a whole month and even attended a showing of it when the entourage and actors had travelled to Prakra.

Heloisa smiled and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Yes, the first play I ever wrote. I have a soft spot for it but Jocelyn y Templanza is the most dear to me. It’s just so much more personal.” 

“Oh, I haven’t seen either but… now that I recall it, I did read The Ballad of the Brave Knights of Crystalia. A good comedy with great social commentary.” 

“Ah, that one,”, she chuckled, “there are enough people who consider it a tragedy, partly because it’s based on real events. You certainly seem to have enough finesse and sharp wit to figure it out the right way, congratulations.” She winked and Nadia was glad for the mask on her face which hid her blush.

 “The Crystalian Knights were a real mercenary band - not one of them from Crystalia necessarily.” Lucio interjected. Nadia threw him a pointed look. Did he have to forcefully insert himself into the conversation?

“Why, thank you, I am well aware of that, your excellency.” Lady Heloisa’s mouth was a thin line. “My source is - well, was, since their era has ended - quite familiar with them; they were under her service after all.”

Lucio’s eyes widened and his lips pursed but he didn’t press the issue. 

“Reading the play could maybe give you a new insight on the events, darling.” Nadia suggested with a small smile and suppressed a chuckle when Lucio rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, don’t feel pressured to follow your wife’s recommendation, your excellency. Zero readers are better than one self-described expert.” She laughed. Nadia felt the corners of her mouth twitch. As if Lucio would ever finish a book in order to criticize it. Her husband meanwhile only stared at the marquesa who shook her head. “Pardon, I was just joking. A man of your standing, you must be quite educated and your military decorations say more than enough.”

“Oh, no offense taken, Lady Heloisa - or Marquesa? Which one is it? You are dressed like someone more important than you might actually be.” He slightly leaned forward with a grin that bared a little too much teeth.

Before Nadia could open her mouth, the marquesa answered cooly and with a steely look in her brown eyes that by now exuded no warmth whatsoever: “I am a representative of my house and since the actual marquesa is quite the busy woman, the political affairs fall to me, your excellency.” As quickly as her sharp veneer appeared, it was gone again and her tone became amicable again. “Either way… I take it you are quite busy with the delegation; the people who are actually interested in talking to you. Good day, and before I forget it: happy birthday - it is your party I am attending after all.” Lucio opened his mouth to answer, but Lady Heloisa turning on her heel cut him off before a word escaped him.

“Lucio.” Nadia hissed and leveled him with a displeased look. 

“C’mon, Noddy, from whichever backwater that woman is, they haven’t even invented manners over there.” 

Nadia raised an eyebrow which instantly made him shut up. “Have you ever heard of being the bigger person?”

Her husband put on a shameless grin. “Nope. Especially not on my birthday - why though, I’m already the greatest there is!” He looked down on himself and marveled at his peacock costume with a deep cut-out and tight shimmering teal pants.

Nadia sighed. “Like always it’s left to me to fix the messes you leave behind.” 

She didn’t even dignify Lucio with a response and followed the marquesa who with her hot pink costume was not only impossible to miss but also seemed to naturally draw looks to her. Nadia followed her through a crowd and before she reached her, she thought that maybe she was being ridiculous, this woman was a stranger to her but if Lucio just burnt a bridge to her and the Calpacian empire, that couldn’t be good.

“Lady Heloisa.” The marquesa turned at hearing her name. “Countess Nadia.” She said, with no little surprise in her voice. “What can I do for you? If you are here to apologize for your husband’s tactlessness: there is no need to.”

Nadia sighed. “Let me apologize regardless; I reckon you came to Vesuvia to make friends. Like any good host, I will not deny you the possibility to form good, better, bonds between Vesuvia and Calpacia.”

Lady Heloisa looked at her for a moment, then she nodded slowly. “I do not want to drag you from your own party, so feel free to deny me, but I need to breathe some fresh air - if you were to accompany me, I would be most grateful.”

“Well,” Nadia began, “I don’t have anywhere to be, by all means, and I was going to leave either way.” She remembered Asra, who most likely was waiting for her in the mirror room, that he probably left because of the same person who she was now talking to, but shook her head to chase away the thought. On the way to the balconies she saw Deirdra talking to a butterfly and a pigeon and told them as they passed by to tell Asra she wasn’t going to make it, and then the cold nightair hit her in the face. 

“Ah, much better. I thought I was going to suffocate in there.” Lady Heloisa fanned air into her face. “It's too many people in one room - as big as it might be, it is not enough.” She sighed. “Oh well. I don’t mean to be too forward but… how about the gardens? Less people, more fresh air - both sound like a good deal to me.” 

She grinned at Nadia and for a moment her eyes wandered over Nadia’s figure. “If you want to, Countess, that is. We can relax by the arbors too, as long as it’s away from all the spying little eyes. It is so hard to relax when you’re surrounded by just about everyone in existence.”

Nadia considered the offer for a moment and realized that entertaining the thought actually thrilled her. 

“The arbors sound good, you should just know that there's many people in the gardens right now, be it to catch some fresh air or… engage in risky behavior.” 

“Oh ho ho, how naughty! But oh well, it wouldn't be a party without some of that.” Lady Heloisa chuckled but then agreed to them going to the arbors. On the way there, she fell back for a moment but caught up a few seconds later, triumphantly holding a bottle of prosecco in her hand. "Not a party without some of that."

"You took it off a waiter?" Nadia raised an eyebrow but her tone was amused.

"Unless that was the last bottle in the Palace, in which case it'll be spent rather well." She said with a grin. They settled in an arbor far from any big crowds, surrounded by white rose bushes and with a block of marble in its middle. The two women sat on it, with Lady Heloisa wiping the block before doing so. 

"Stains won't show on my costume but yours… a swan should never stain her beautiful plumage." She winked and sat down cross-legged before she stripped the heels of her feet and rubbed her ankles. 

"Where did you even get it from? Considering you didn't even know the Masquerade was going to happen."

"Oh, I have an excellent and diligent tailor. I'm rather proud of what he came up with: it's very 'Me'."

Nadia straightened her long white feathered dress. "Well, it certainly is unique and quite daring, if I might say so."

Lady Heloisa laughed. "Both of us could surely go into the history books of masquerades as 'Best Dressed' of the evening if there was such a thing. No offense to any peacocks that might walk around the grounds at this very moment."

Nadia laughed.

“I apologize for making fun of your husband, I don’t mean to antagonize him.” Nadia highly doubted this, but didn’t say anything as she watched Lady Heloisa wedge the bottle between her knees and began pulling put the cork. “I’m here to mingle after all. Although I’m starting to think that you are much more amicable and approachable than him.” That easy smile was back on her but a loud plop make both of them jump and the marquesa let out a harsh curse as bubbly prosecco spilled out of the bottle.

“Oh, let me please.” Nadia quickly snatched the bottle from her fingers and put the bottle to her mouth, taking a big sip and put it down when most of the foam was gone. Lady Heloisa’s eyes didn’t leave her as she did so and went between the bottle and Nadia when she put it back on the marble block.

“I was about to lament I didn’t bring any glasses with me but… you don’t seem to mind.” She grinned and took the bottle, still stained with some of Nadia’s own lipstick, and took an equally big sip out of it. 

Nadia leaned back on her hands and curiously eyed the marquesa from head to toes. The fingers holding the bottle were long and slender; a silver band adorned her thumb and another her ring finger. Her dress had a thin but deep cut-out and was made to accentuate her long brown legs. There was a slight hint of fruity scent to her, and Nadia imagined her skin to be soft to the touch. 

As the conversation naturally progressed, she noticed that as soon as she was one-on-one and more at ease with someone, the marquesa had a shift in demeanor - her speech was less strained, less formal than when talking next to the Zadithi delegation. 

She told her about why she was in Zadith in the first place (a potential partnership and exchange program between the Guild’s First Magical Institute and the Alchemical Academy of Zadith), her journey (“I feel like a woman of the people now after sleeping on a field bed two days in a row”) and her last trip to the Star Lakes (where she did meet Nahara and Navra as it turned out and if Nadia read the signs correctly, they went on some very heavy nightly carousing) which in turn led to Nadia talking about Prakra and her life in Vesuvia. 

The marquesa hung onto every word that came out of the Countess's mouth and Nadia grew more and more confident the longer she spoke with her. It was so satisfying to talk to someone and have them actually listen to you, showing actual interest in your words and being a good audience. The only other person she had ever felt the same with after leaving Prakra was Asra; his friends were very sweet but she didn't know them that well yet, Doctor Devorak would tell his own tales in response which was fine but not always what one needed, and Lucio… everything was a competition for him and he would come up with an outrageous lie to make her feel small.

“So, how are you liking Vesuvia so far?”

“Hm.” Lady Heloisa pursed her lips. "It reminds me a bit of Bizatena, but... ,", she sighed, "less well organized. I won't lie, Countess, but there are parts of the city that look atrocious. Happy citizens are happy to be subjects, and unhappy citizens… well, I don't think I need to finish that thought. Prakra has a very high standard of life, its citizens enjoy many rights - how does it compare to Vesuvia?" 

Nadia's thoughts went to coliseum fights and the neglect of the aqueduct system. She felt blood rush to her face as she didn't reply right away, in shame of not doing enough for the city and its inhabitants.

"There isn't even a proper legal system." Why was she telling this woman about it? She had done nothing to prove herself trustworthy - in fact, Nadia thought about the look on Asra's face when he saw the marquesa, that surely had to mean something. 

Lady Heloisa shook her head. "For fuck’s sake. That… sounds horrible. My true condolences." She gave Nadia an empathetic look and reached out to touch her arm. "I hope that one day Vesuvia is ruled by the sovereign it deserves - the quicker the better."

Nadia looked at her for a moment as she processed what the marquesa had just said. Was she really implying what she thought?

"You clearly are a smart and cultured woman, Countess, there is no doubt about it. You surely have got to have some influence amongst the count's advisers or the Vesuvian council in some way, if your husband doesn't listen to you - which is a grave mistake on his part - then at least he should do so with his courtiers."

Nadia thought of the courtiers Lucio had brought to Vesuvia, those strange creatures of whom she wasn't even sure if there was a soul in their chest or not… slippery Vlastomil, mysterious Valdemar, boorish Vulgora and excessive Volta. The newest consul, a young Vesuvian named Valerius, son of a noblewoman who had faithfully served the previous Count and Countess, was the only one she felt some sort of kinship towards but even then she felt on thin ice with him. 

"I will try." She conceded with a sign. "You speak like someone who has plenty of experience with this."

The marquesa grinned and shrugged. "I don't kiss and tell, dearest Countess, all I will say is this: the Cartagense court is a lion's pit and its inhabitants are eternally starved and thus always down to rip you to shreds. I hope for your sake that the Vesuvians are nothing like that - even if I can see you surviving in a hostile environment.”

Nadia watched her as she sighed and reached up to her face to take off the flamingo mask. She didn’t know what exactly to expect behind the mask but she was anything but disappointed: the marquesa had a face that was quite easy on the eyes. Coupled with her magnetic personality, her charisma, her way with words… the woman was fascinating to put it in one word. And yet… she reminded her of those flesh-eating orchids from the jungles in Northern Prakra. 

Lady Heloisa turned the mask in her hand and scoffed. 

“I had this costume made last minute when your husband's invitation arrived in Zadith. Something that says 'I'm down for the fun!', no statement piece or whatever.” She brushed a non-existing speck of dirt off the mask. “Yours clearly positions you as the one with her head in the game, Countess: regal, gracious and with a protective, mayhaps even a little ruthless, streak.” She raised an eyebrow, her smirk confident. “Is it that what's underneath your mask? I'd love to know.”

She reached out to caress Nadia's swan mask but just as her fingers brushed it, Nadia took a hold of her wrist. The marquesa's eyes widened but she didn't protest, on the contrary, the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. Nadia's lips curved into a smile as she gently stroked with her thumb over the skin of the marquesa's inner wrist. The smell of fruity perfume intensified. 

“I don't kiss and tell either, Marquesa.”

Lady Heloisa's eyes were fixed on hers for a moment and then seemed to collect herself. “I have never been one to back down from a challenge.” Her cheeks darkened a bit and she lowered her hand a bit - Nadia let her until she stopped just shortly above her thigh covered by the white satin of her costume. 

“You certainly are daring, Lady Heloisa.” Nadia gently let go of her and in the process trailed over her delicate hand, caressing the knuckles of her long fingers. 

“Is that what you prefer?” The marquesa scooted closer to her, their legs almost touching. “Daring women?”

Nadia felt her face heat up but leaned in, tilted Lady Heloisa's chin up with her finger and replied: “Who says I am not a daring woman?”

The marquesa let out an light chuckle at that. “Countess Nadia, you do have some surprises up your sleeve. I don't know what I expected from Vesuvia but it wasn't someone like you.” She reached for the bottle and frowned. 

“Damn… guess we killed that one.” 

Nadia laughed. She stood up and gulped as she swayed slightly on the spot but held her balance. “I suppose that's the sign we should get back to the ballroom.”

“Ah, yes. I suppose you are right.” Lady Heloisa put her heels back on and when she stood there, there was little to no sway at all - impressive, given the fact the marquesa had drunk more and was also smaller. 

“Maybe,”, Nadia hooked her arm in with the marquesa's. The flamingo costume rustled and the marquesa sucked in a breath as Nadia pulled her close, “you can surprise me in return with your dance moves.”

The laugh Lady Heloisa let out was loud and so very uncharacteristic for a cultured noble woman such as her. Nadia gave her a curious look as she tried to regain her composure. Maybe they were both a bit more enthusiastic after sharing that bottle. Lady Heloisa ran her fingers along Nadia's arm; her pink nails scraped a bit on her skin.

“Oh, that I surely will.”

#the arcana fic #the arcana #countess nadia #nadia satrinava #my writing #i sat on this way too long but its a thing of beauty so go at it even tho you never asked for it #there's everything a decent person like me needs: extravagant costumes; an abundance of rosé prosecco #and of course the classic: a woman flirting with another woman in front of her husband

[crossroadsdimension]

A Quick Perusal of My Library

Because talking with @thelastspeecher​ makes me want to see if there are any like-minded readers out there on the Internets before I hasten myself off to bed!

[ID: The books Eragon, Eldest, Brisingr, and Inheritance by Christopher Paolini, The World of Shannara by Terry Brooks, and the first two novels of Riordan’s Heroes of Olympus series.

To begin with -- yes, I was an Eragon kid growing up. Yes, I went ahead and bought all of them. And yes, I have a nostalgic love of it, even if looking back on it, I can agree it was written terribly by comparison to most literature I come across, but I can look at it like a beginning writer writing their first fanfiction and throwing it to the four winds to see who wants to pluck it out of the air and read it. (Yes, I have To Sleep in a Sea of Stars. There is a very noticeable difference between his writing style as a kid and his writing style now, believe me.)

Also, The World of Shannara is one of those world-building encyclopedia-ish books. If anyone here has heard of the Shannara Chronicles...yes, I read the books they are based on, and yes, the author is still writing books for his world. Go read them, they’re fantastic. My mom read them when she was a kid and I’m thinking about raiding her library for whatever remains of them at the moment. Perhaps later.

[ID: a collection of Pokemon Adventures Manga. The books visible detail the Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald, Firered, Leafgreen, Heartgold, and Soulsilver story arcs]

...If some of my previous posts haven’t made it obvious already, I am a Pokemon nut. I don’t have all of the manga volumes for the Pokemon Adventures manga, but I’m getting there. Black and White is the next on my list.

Also, there’s another layer of manga behind the ones in this picture. Believe me when I say I have everything for Gen 1-4 in terms of the manga’s story.

[ID: The image showcases more manga, mostly Fullmetal Alchemist volumes. There are two volumes of manga in the back that are hard to see and are part of Trigun’s published volumes]

Yes, there is yet more manga! And there’s another cube of storage space besides this one that has the rest of the Trigun manga stuffed in it...along with the rest of the Pokemon manga that couldn’t fit in the previous picture. XD I am considering getting more, but if the pictures here aren't going to be indication enough, let it be known that my space is very limited.

[ID: A bookshelf with a small metal liberty bell souvenir sitting in front of a number of books: The Magician, The Sorceress, and the Necromancer from The Immortal Flames of Nicholas Flamel, the Harry Potter Series, and Mossflower, Mattimeo, Mariel of Redwall, and Marlfox by Brian Jaques, the two White Sand graphic novel volumes from Brandon Sanderson, and The Gideon Trilogy by Buckley-Archer]

Ah, childhood. Some of it, anyway. I am thinking about getting the rest of the Immortal Flames series, and more of Redwall, at least. The Gideon Trilogy is an interesting historical novel-fiction-time travel sort of read that starts out very slowly. I had a difficult time getting into it, but I was hooked. Eventually.

Also, there’s more behind those books.

[ID: The book titles I’d like to point out here are The Time Quake from the Gideon Trilogy, The Legend of Luke, Taggerung, and Triss by Brian Jaques , Dragon Drums, Time Stops for No Mouse, and The Sands of Time. The rest are either books that were required reading by my college (Years of Red Dust, Grape Leaves), or cat books.]

Time Stops for No Mouse and the Sands of Time were both rather random books, to be honest. They’re a pair that are meant to be together, and they’re mysteries set in a mouse-based society that considers cats an extinct species. 

I also have a...very big collection of D&D books on the shelf directly below -- mostly rule and world-building books, as well as the first 2 of the Adventure Zone graphic novels. But I don’t think I need to post a picture of that here.

Nor do I feel a need to post a picture of a cluttered shelf with all my Archie’s Sonic the Hedgehog comics that I’ve collected over the years. But yes, I have a decent chunk of their published works.

[ID: Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn series, Elantirs, The Emperor’s Soul, Warbreaker, and Arcanum Unbounded]

...yes, I am a very big Brandon Sanderson fan. And I do have his Stormlight Archives books, but this post is already getting incredibly long.

[ID: In dim light, there are 6 DVD cases -- the Gravity Falls Special Edition set, and three Mythbusters DVDs. Behind the Vax’ildan and Keylith Funko Pops, there are five books with a golden hamster on the spine. The series begins with the book I, Freddy, and ends with Freddy’s Final Quest.]

Another selection of books from my childhood! Hidden among some other things, yes. Freddy’s series was an intriguing read for me, and I think one that I got through a Scholastic order form. Dunno why I held onto this one, other than the fact that it’s charming and it’s about a hamster who learns how to type and writes a novel in the first book. Well, autobiography, technically.

This shelf/storage cube shares a level with the Stormlight Archives...as well as my two Journal 3′s because I got the original and the special edition black light.

[ID: a cube with Brandon Sanderson’s Reckoner’s trilogy, Transformers’ Covenant of Primus, Exodus, Exiles, and Retribution, and hiding in the shadows, an old copy of Macbeth]

Yes, I’m a Transformers fan. I like giant robots. Or robots in general. Shush.

Also, I got that copy of Macbeth from my high school teacher because they were old, beat-up copies, and he was getting new ones for next year.

[ID: Three Dragonlance novels, Frankenstein, a copy of the 1984 NIV translation of the bible, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Because of Win-Dixie]

Some childhood memories here, some not. The copy of the bible and Because of Win-Dixie have been around for a while. My parents sent me to a private school and I ended up getting that translation as a result of my attending there. Never really felt a need to get rid of it, to be honest. Everything else I bought either in college or after. The Dragonlance novels are a good read, and I’ve been thinking about getting more of them.

[ID: Some Terry Pratchet novels, the Tale of Despareaux, Return to Neverland, and The Prophecy of the Stones. The other books are various pieces of nonfiction, or very skinny textbooks]

The Prophecy of the Stones is the one I want to point out here. It was a birthday gift that turned into a really, really compelling read. I’d highly recommend it.

Also, the Princess Academy is in the next storage cube over. That one’s a good one, too. I’ve heard there’s a series attached to it, so I’m going to have to go looking for it. (Also, if the picture loads, there is another copy of a Harry Potter novel there. That one’s in German!)

As for the Terry Pratchet novels...I only started buying them recently. My collection isn’t very big yet, and I haven’t bought all of them, either. I may look into doing that...eventually.

...I’m gonna stop this post here, while I still have half a mind to actually go to bed. I need to sleep, I really do. If anyone wants to know my opinions on some of the other books of fiction I have hiding in these pictures -- or perhaps elsewhere -- please, don’t be afraid to drop an ask and let me know!

#this is a VERY LONG POST #cross' rambling #there are a Great Many Pictures in this one #forgive the later picture descriptions on this post #it is very late for me #and therefore Not A Very Good Time To Be Writing Descriptions #but yes I have a Great Many Books! #and am constantly looking for more

[stitchwitchsapprentice]

Fullmetal Alchemist Liveblog Ep.6

Fullmetal Alchemist Liveblog Ep. 6: The Alchemy Exam

Okay, I think I just figured out that when Al has his "law of Equivalent Exchange" opening, we're in the past... possibly meaning this whole thing has a frame story, beginning with the 2st two episodes (though scene 1 of Ep. 3 being part of that frame seems like a weird set-up...) Anyway, I feel stupid.

You know what would be interesting? If their father had the Philosopher's Stone... of course, there's not enough information to make an actual call on that right now, but if I were *plotting* this story, and only had come up with what I had seen so far, I would be considering it.

Ed screaming and getting bowled over by a dog is hilarious, and I'm guessing now that this dog is going to be super big and super friendly--one of those dogs that's half as big as a full grown man and wags its whole body.

Upsides to having your soul attached to a suit of armor #11: "Bigger Brother is very strong."

I can't decide who I like more... the four year old or the dog

I wonder if Tucker regrets the chimera he made.

Ed's love of books is kind of adorable.

Daww, Ed is so sad that Al can't eat.

Dawww, Al is basically acting like the older brother and having to take care of Ed. It's too much! I can't! I Can't!

"Let's hope the dog didn't think he was a hydrant." lol

Le gasp! Snow! Dawwww! They're going to get to pretend their kids for a while!

Did Ed forget his own birthday?

"You're stomach's a melon!" Okay Ed, let's cover a few things: First of all, that's what we call "pregnant." It means there's a baby growing inside her. Your mom probably looked kind of like that before you were born. Second of all, it's not very polite to say things like that. Lol, I love it when the super smart people are super dumb about ordinary shit. (And yes, I know that he didn't actually think her stomach was a melon)

Lol them freaking out by her asking if they want to feel the baby kick is hilarious too.

"it's here." "the tea?" "the baby dumbass!" And now all the male characters have been reduced to absolute idiots.

I hope this isn't a die-in-childbirth situation.

Nope. It looks like it's just going to be two very smart idiots and a little girl learning how to be midwives. Now I want to watch Call the Midwife, though it is not nearly this hilarious. Nor do people's faces look like that. lolol

Ah! Ed already doesn't need a transmutation circle. *That* is what will make him the fullmetal alchemist. But why? At least they don't know either.

lol Ed. "I'm not touching baby stuff!"

"It's all thanks to you kids. I couldn't have done it without the other birthday boy and his friends." "We didn't do anything." You certainly screamed a lot. Possibly more than the baby.

I love how characters like Ed freak out when a baby is being born, but then once it happens, they're like, "omg! It's so amazing!"

Poor Al misses his body! Dawww!

I love the image of Al sitting in that tiny little chair... well, tiny for him.

"You boys have a plan, right?" "Yes! Of course we do!" (Has no plan at all.)

I want to see Al pretend he's a talking dog! Alphonse, Alexander... they both shorten to Al.

Whenever I hear "colonel Mustang," I think for a moment they're going to say "Colonel Mustard."

This reminds me a lot of the Magicians.

Hurm. Why doesn't he want Al to pass the test?

Annnd... more of Ed being as dramatic as possible....

Dawwww! Al doesn't remember what it feels like to touch things! I'm going to cry! Wahhh!!!!!

Okay, Nina is the cutest. And can we talk about how she's still wearing the flower crown they made her?

So Al's going to pass the test by saving alchemist 1 from being killed by alchemist 2's creation.

Okay, his lack of a need for a transmutation circle is somehow connected to his putting his hands together... like... he is the circle itself. I mean... that would explain the name. Is it the wires connected to the nerves in his body, or what?

Okay, this was definitely my favorite episode so far.

Predictions:

They're not going to both get their bodies back. This whole story is about sacrifice, and it's going to be too big a sacrifice.

Questions:

Why doesn't Ed need a transmutation circle?

(I hope we get an actual answer at some point.) And for good measure...

Why is he called the fullmetal alchemist?

#fullmetal alchemist #liveblog #first time watching

[beeshavethrees]

Here we go again

Time for a Hamilton magic/fantasy AU!

I return after months of not using this account to post another Hamilton AU idea. And thus, the cycle begins anew. Vaguely based on a three books and a video game, all of which I have vague, fever-dream-esque memories of.

Probably settles around a loose kind of jamilton but then again, I’m not too sure. Possibly multiples, honestly. I’d love to hear thoughts and suggestions or requests on this though (might work well as a series of shipping one-shots, honestly), so drop me an ask if you have a request or something in mind with this!

(Maybe plot of Alexander trying to master his own magic while meeting other magical creatures and trying to cure those who were cursed against their will?)

This got long, so the bulk of it all is under the cut!

This AU takes place in a dense, magical forest that borders much less-dangerous woodland and grassland. Most humans in the area inhabit the towns and villages outside of the forest, and live generally uninteresting lives there, albeit sticking close to the mantra of: do not enter the forest. Non-magical creatures, including your standard human, are guaranteed to lose their way should they enter the forest; most do not make it out alive. Thus, it is only in the most dire or depressing of circumstances that humans will walk into the trees and disappear. It’s a death trap.

To magical creatures, that’s simply not true. The forest is filled with plants ripe for the harvest and animals that are easy pickings, with gigantic trees and clear streams and lush clearings abundant throughout. To them, the most dangerous part of forest is who else they may run into.

Alexander Hamilton is a witch. He didn’t start out that way, of course; and he prefers to refer to himself as a practicing magician, not a witch, although no one else seems to feel the same on that matter. After a string of traumatic experiences as a child, he learned of magic and began to dabble in witchcraft, mostly only small spells he learned from old books that should have been burnt long ago. He first learned how to focus power through a branch acting as a want for simple magics such as creating light; later on, he grew to basic circle magics and the likes. He hoped to find a way to give himself more control over the horrible events in his life; unfortunately, things only became worse for him, and he was forced to flee his hometown. His magic only grew more explosive and unconstrained from his fears and lack of stability, and he eventually ran into the forest, hoping to protect the outside world from his witchcraft. At the same time, he can’t bear to put his books down, and instead seeks to master his growing powers on his own.

Thomas is a vampire; he was turned against his will and holds some resentment for it, but is classy enough to fall right into the aesthetic. He at first was starving and planning to eat James when he first met the man, but decided against it after James defended himself with accidentally forcing the wild garlic in the soil to grow up enough to harm Thomas. It was a bumpy road to get there, but Thomas ended up living with James; Thomas loves to garden and cook, but since he can’t eat what he makes, James uses his magic to grow fresh ingredients, and Thomas cooks meals for James. It’s an odd dynamic, but a functional one -- and they try not to think about where James actually does get his food from. When Thomas first met Alexander, Thomas (like with James) was fully planning to drink his blood, but Alexander was prepared with dangerous spells and his fiery attitude, so Thomas let him be. Still, though, Alexander is as book-smart as Thomas always adored, and there’s still that creeping hope in the back of Thomas’ mind that, hey, Alex is a witch -- so maybe, just maybe, he’ll be able to cure Thomas of his vampirism?

John is a werewolf. A young one, or moreso a relatively newly-turned one, to be precise. He can control himself (somewhat) during full moons, but does become a bit looser and wilder every night even when retaining his human form. Over time, he’d learn to control his powers and shapeshift at will, but for now, he’s wild and has a bit of a bite to him. He ran away from home after being turned and never wants to look back. In fact, he’s happy with being a werewolf!

Lafayette is a fairy, but not the nicest of the sorts. He’s young for a fae and mostly goes about using his looks to get what he wants and messing with the locals with his illusory magics. He flits from place to place, but at least sticks around his friends. There are still a few people he loves, after all. He’s always lived in the forest and is a native to it.

James is some sort of herbalist/alchemist. Traumatized by death and himself harmed by sickness and poor mental health, he escaped into the forest, and found that he must have had some magical part to his ancestry, because he was a natural magician. He wasn’t much a fan of gardening, though, but eventually found himself living a peaceful life with Thomas using his magic to maintain the local plants and create fascinating potions with incredible effects.

#jamilton #hamilton: an american musical

[pika-ace]

Cookie Run One-Shot - Apology Aftermath

The Cheesecake Manor Mystery thing just pushed my writing buttons, my old post sealed the deal, and I decided my cookie child Gingerbrave deserved a bit more closure for his accident. Enjoy this fluff I came up with :)

Gingerbright visits Gingerbrave in the hospital after the incident at Cheesecake Manor; a few other Cookies tag along as well. (No real pairings, just fluffy friendship because Gingerbrave is a sweetie)

Gingerbright waited patiently in the waiting room of the hospital. She hadn’t been waiting long, but it had felt like hours! She wanted to see Gingerbrave now! 

When she heard that her best friend had been strawberry jammed, she would have rushed to his side immediately were it not for Walnut keeping everyone quarantined while the guilty party was scoped out. 

Cinnamon Cookie had tearfully told her the whole story, though she was still so shell shocked it barely stuck. She swore there was something in there about another cookie being disguised as her, but she was mainly relieved that the whole thing was an accident. 

Cinnamon was especially torn up about the whole thing; confiding in Bright after hiding behind his forced stage smile all night was like breaking a dam. 

Speaking of Cinnamon… Bright waved him over when she saw the magician enter the hospital, “Over here!” 

Cinnamon lit up a bit and hurried over to her, though his expression devolved into one of nervousness. “Are you okay?” Bright asked. Cinnamon nodded, his eyes on his hands where he was fiddling with his magician hat. Bright smiled and touched his shoulder, “It’ll be okay; it wasn’t your fault.” 

“She’s right!” Fairy Cookie flew down from above them. She smiled kindly at Cinnamon, “You weren’t the only one involved, and you didn’t make Gingerbrave fall; Gingerbrave won’t blame you.” 

“Yeah,” Bright lit up. “Brave doesn’t hold grudges, you have nothing to worry about!” 

“By analyzing all of Gingerbrave’s past interactions, that is a high possibility,” Alchemist Cookie approached the group. “I would have brought my brother with me, but he fell asleep just before I left.” 

“We’re all very glad you’re here,” Fairy said sweetly. 

“Well, of course, I’m here,” Alchemist shrugged. “I mean, I’m the one who made the ladder fall, it’s common decency for me to visit.” 

“How are you so calm?” Cinnamon asked softly. 

“Simple; the entire event was an accident and I had no ill-will behind my actions. Morally, I am sound.” 

“Excuse me, are you all here to visit Gingerbrave as well?” The group turned around. 

“Milk Cookie? Purple Yam Cookie? What are you guys doing here?” Bright asked, the blunt question softened by her actual curiosity. Milk and Yam kept to themselves or were usually off on adventures together, so the time they had spent with other cookies, let alone Brave, was very brief. 

“To see the KID, DUH,” Yam said. 

“We were both invited to that party; I arrived late, so Yam filled me in on what happened,” Milk said. “Yam wanted to see how he was doing.” 

“I did NOT,” Yam grumbled. “I don’t CARE, I just knew YOU would MAKE me go anyway.” 

“I knew I felt some kindness in you,” Fairy said happily. “You truly are a wonderful cookie at heart!” 

“Shut UP!” 

“Brave will be really happy to see all of you,” Bright said. “Walnut already told him what happened at the party after he was knocked out.” Cinnamon tensed slightly and Bright touched his arm in comfort. 

They all headed into the hallway and came to the room where Brave was. Bright quietly opened the door to see a single hospital bed. Brave seemed to be under the sheets; was he asleep? 

Choco Drop was dozing by his side as well. Bright softly motioned to be quiet, Milk giving Yam a stern look when she did, and they crept into the room. They gathered around the bed and felt their concern grow. Brave had a large band-aid on his head; a light shade of pink could still be seen underneath it. The young cookie seemed to be fussing a bit in his sleep; was he still in pain? 

Cinnamon wrung his hands as guilt crept up while Milk debated gently waking the poor cookie. 

Then his eyes opened with a smile, “Hey everybody!” 

The cookies jumped and Bright was the first to laugh, “Brave, you jerk!” 

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Brave chuckled. He slowly sat up, still wincing a bit. 

Milk raised his staff and a soft blue glow emanated from it, washing over Brave’s injury. “That should help with the pain for a while.” 

“Thanks,” Brave said with a smile. 

“How are you doing, Brave?” Bright asked. 

“Pretty good,” Brave shrugged. “I’m a bit disappointed I missed out on the whole mystery thing.” 

“DON’T be,” Yam spoke up. “It was a HUGE PAIN!” 

“Tell me more about that Phantom Bleu guy,” Brave said. “Walnut said they were some cool thief!” 

“None of us saw them personally,” Milk admitted. “But those who did admire him quite a bit; they sound quite dashing, from what how they were described; Cotton Candy seemed quite smitten.” 

“She’s smitten with everyone,” Alchemist retorted. 

“I wish I could’ve seen them,” Brave said. 

“They sent us NOTES about what HAPPENED to YOU,” Yam added. 

“Yeah, so this Phantom Bleu is more like...an antihero; no wonder Cotton is in love again,” Bright giggled. 

“Anyway, on to why most of us are here,” Alchemist said before clearing her throat. “Gingerbrave, I’m sorry I tried to move the ladder, causing you to fall to your almost-demise.” 

“That got dark…” Bright muttered. 

“I’m sorry too,” Fairy said, flitting above Brave sadly. “I should have caught you, but I caught the jar instead.” 

“Aw, it’s okay you guys,” Brave smiled. “I mean, it was just jelly.” Bright stole a glance at Cinnamon, who had been very quiet the entire time. 

Brave noticed this too, “Cinnamon? Are you okay?” He asked. “You look upset about something.” 

Cinnamon tensed and peeked up at the young cookie, “You...aren’t mad?” 

Brave blinked, “Why would I be mad?” 

All eyes were on Cinnamon. “Because...it was my fault…!” He said. “The whole reason this happened was because you were trying to make me feel better...if I wasn’t so distracted by my magic, then…!” 

“Cinnamon, I’m the one who hurt your feelings in the first place!” Brave exclaimed. “If anything, it’s all my fault, and I paid for it.” 

“But-” 

“It’s okay, Cinnamon, really!” Brave insisted. “I don’t blame you, I don’t blame any of you; it was an accident!” 

“Exactly!” Bright agreed. 

“Well, we were lucky it was an accident this time,” Milk pointed out. “But he’s right; don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t do.” Cinnamon’s eyes were wide and hopeful like he had just been told the greatest news in the world. 

“Hey, why don’t you do another magic show for us right now?” Brave suggested. “I mean, it can get pretty boring in here.” 

“Really?” Cinnamon asked happily. 

“Yeah, I wanna see!” Bright said. “I didn’t even get to the party in time to see it!” 

“I can second that,” Milk said with a smile. “I would love to see your show.” 

“I didn’t GET to EITHER, and I don’t really CARE,” Yam shrugged before Milk gave him a small whack on the head. “But I GUESS I have no CHOICE.” 

“I wanna see it too!” Fairy exclaimed. 

“I have nothing else scheduled today, so this is acceptable,” Alchemist said. “You may proceed with your magic show; and for Brave’s sake, I will not debunk any trick you do, as difficult as that will be.” 

“Aw thanks, Al,” Brave said. 

“Okay!” Cinnamon jumped to his feet, whipping out his wand and cards. “Prepare to be amazed! For the second time this week!” 

Gingerbrave shifted on his bed so he could watch better while everyone else in the room gathered around. 

As the magic show commenced, a tall shadow watched from the edge of the window. Roquefort Cookie smiled at the sight. While they knew about the ploy all along with their ingenious Gingerbright disguise, he was a bit worried for the young cookie Gingerbrave. 

What could they say; it was the same reason they always liked messing with Walnut. Roquefort just had a bit of a soft spot for children.

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #roquefort cookie #cheesecake manor mystery #gingerbrave #gingerbright #cinnamon cookie #milk cookie #purple yam cookie #fairy cookie #alchemist cookie #fanfiction #one-shot

[autel-luna]

Scorpio season is always so specially to me.. it's such a powerful time of inner alchemy.. I thought Id share a messaged I channeled for my business on here for anyone who may need it.

""We do not thrive despite of the storm, we thrive because of it." - Will Smith

Happy New Moon in Scorpio Beloveds.. I think we can all agree that there is so much depth to this new moon.. It might not be entirely chaotic, there's a beautiful stillness to it.. But its sharing with us so many things about ourselves.. how far we've come.. where we are yet to go.. us as humanity.. It's really quite beautiful.

Last night I was watching the season finale of season 1 of the new Charmed.. (spoiler alert) and in the final episode, one of the oldest sisters, separated from her other two, had her insecurities played out on full blast. She was afraid of being abandoned.. because she didn't have her mother growing up like the other two.. for so long she was so convinced everyone she ever loved would leave her.. She would make sure to push people away before they could walk away.. until her sisters showed her.. that no matter her pain they weren't going anywhere.. And she had the opportunity to let go of the past, no matter how painful it was and choose a new future by seeing there was love in this world that would not abandon her.

In some ways.. that's the metaphor Scorpio season presents us with. Situations in our life are on replay, especially around our core wounds.. We may feel like situations seem the same.. But if you choose to lean into them.. if you choose to admit you want to make the same subconscious moves you have made many times and be vulnerable, you'll realize the players on the outside are no longer truly playing with the same reactions.

We too.. are being presented with the opportunity to realize, the past is now over.. And there is love in this world that will never leave us. From our tribes, from ourselves, from the Universe that made us. We are safe to let go.

We are safe to know that everyone is a little bit of a mad genius, we all have our stories and yet.. We are done making bonds out of trauma and instead building community based on our purpose for a magical, beautiful, passionate world. We are so ready for that.

It doesnt mean the work isnt over.. It just means we no longer have to go searching for it. Healing is cyclical.. And when we are ready to meet the next edge, there's no need to worry.. Life will shows exactly where to remove the next barrier to wholeness, oneness and love.

Yesterday, after a year in the making and 6 hours of excruciating pain with one of the most magickal sisters I know.. My Matron finally appeared on my leg. I went through periods of not knowing if I wanted the tattoo, if she was even my matron.. all sorts of things before we even started the sketching process. Even after the first few hours of starting, I thought to myself wow.. is this really worth it? (She is almost finished, one more session still!!!) Because it was painful and took effort on my own part.. And then I got reminded that we often make big commitments, not always realizing why we started.. And a few steps into the process we begin to realize the feet ahead of us.. And we so often want to give up.. that's that moment we need to take a deep breath.. And remember why we started. That beautiful things do take work and sacrifice.. And finally they come into full bloom and they are magnificent. That applies to so many of the one of a kind long lasting things we want to create.

For so long, I thought Diana's bow and arrow was solely about the visions we manifest.. But sometimes it is an arrow showing us to our potential that whispers "remember why you started. remember who this is for. Remember all of this possibility of who you get to become on the otherside."

I wear her with honor. Because I know that she is the Goddess whom guides me.. And yet she literally is me. She is the woman who I am becoming.. And I am already in so many ways. The one who trusts in the cycles.. the one who is protector of the innocent.. the one who has her bullseye on the big picture.. the one who knows she was born wild, powerful and pure.

So much has happened in my life.. much joy and much pain.. every single day I learn about how I came to be the way that I am.. And if you honestly asked if I would take it all back.. I would always say no.

We are mighty because of all the storms that made us. When we process what is painful, and let go of the emotional discharge.. It becomes wisdom. Scorpio is the master alchemist.. he knows where the wound lies.. So does the gold. So does your superpower and gift to the world.

You are a beautiful now, and a beautiful becoming. Remember why you started. Celebrate how far youve come.

You are the magician of your life.. And if you are in deep pain right now.. know if you lean into your inner world, you get the chance to reawaken like the Phoenix you truly are.

So much love to you my amazing friends. Have an amazing Sunday 💋🎉"

#me #mine #tattoo #new moon #new moon in scorpio #inked girls #esbat #scorpio season #astrology #witch #magick #goddess diana #matron #pagan #deity #universe #oneness #wholeness #healing #shadow #ascension #love

[yostresswritinggirl]

If you're plate isn't too full, can I request a couple of fluffy hc's about Albedo with a photographer! s/o? Like, his s/o enjoys taking pictures of the environment and etc, and even take pictures of Albedo whenever he just does stuff, and Albedo enjoys sketching then whenever they just do a whole picture spree- they even exchange pictures too

Yes, my plate is too full and I'm confused why you guys don't see the request closed thingy in my description. But does it look like I care? No, I miss writing for Albedo and you're getting Albedo NOW-

Sepia Times

Albedo with a Photographer!S/O headcanons/scenarios... (event masterlist)

Ever since Fontaine released their newest device called Kamera, you had been so adamant in getting ahold of one that you ended up going on a travel spree to the said nation. Not even waiting for the shipment to Mondstadt, you left a quickly written note of your whereabouts before you left.

Spontaneous as ever, Albedo thought to himself as his grip on the note tightens with worry.

Luckily, three days later, you hailed from the Hydro Archon's land with your newest prized possession in hand. Triumphant and giddy, both of your lives changed drastically from there.

Albedo first and foremost, almost dismantled your Kamera. Actually he may have already done so behind your back, he was just caught the last time. He was really curious of its machinations and wanted to reverse engineer it.

He only ever lived because he was fast enough to reassemble it and show you that it still works. If not, you were already charging at him to throw hands. You did not travel for three days just for the Kamera to be broken. Whether he found what he was looking for or not, he's not allowed to touch it until he gets his own when the supply reaches Mondstadt.

Knowing your excitement, Albedo takes a sudden day off to accompany you in your Kamera spree, his own canvas and easel under his arm to also channel his artistic energy.

In just a day you managed to take 20 pictures, about to run out of film in just a day. Everytime you snap a picture, you gravitate to where Albedo is stationed to show off what you got like a crow and its shiny rocks. He finds it very endearing, stating his honest honey-covered opinion that makes you overjoyed enough to energize you to snap another, better picture.

The Alchemist sees the appeal of the Kamera and how immediate the replication of the image is. But he still glorifies the art of painting. He may not be able to capture constantly moving subjects but he can capture any detail he wants emphasized unlike the limited rasterization of a photo like that.

He watches you from afar as you skip over to different places and objects, face blooming with wonder as you position your device to snap. He dons a smile when you pull out the photo and wait for the image to materialize, and produce a chuckle when you sprint over to him to show the product. It's like your routine you developed in just a day.

So at times when he needs it the most, he will steal borrow your Kamera to snap a quick picture of something fast moving that he needs to observe immediately or wish to sketch/paint in detail in the future. One of the photos he had hidden for himself had a picture of you in your natural photographer environment as you dash around to look for a scene to capture while you wait.

What's it for? Well he made it into a more intricate painting during his spare time, presenting it to you with the little image taped at the top right corner. It was so beautiful that when outsiders were to see it after they were granted to access his office/laboratory, they always ask for the price for it. Something he adamantly refuses with the coldest glare the Alchemist can make. The negotiations usually end there.

Whenever he was far and you couldn't follow, like Dragonspine for example (the Kamera was still in development so cold temperatures might risk both the device and the processing), you always send him a picture for his thoughts. Either by asking Sucrose, Timaeus or the Traveler if they were en route to his camp, of course.

As you send one to him daily, Albedo started to look forward to your little mail every time. They range from very beautiful sights he hasn't seen before, images of the people of Mond who looks to be greeting him, or of you and the things that would remind him of you.

He keeps a haphazardly strewn journal for it, and in his camp was a board of his favorite picks, and all images of you are tacked on it. The Traveler enjoys watching his cold teal eyes light up whenever he brings the daily image, watching the picture board grow as Albedo tacks the latest one in with obvious pride and joy.

When he comes back to Mond, he brings with him his most beautiful piece from Dragonspine. You'd know it's special because everything is painted in detail, even the most unimportant parts of it. It's his gift for your little photo exchange and you have it put up on wall somewhere in your house.

When he gets his own Kamera, it was his turn to drag you to his photography spree. A little one-sided competition happens between you two where you try to one up the quality of his pictures, sometimes successful and sometimes you don't really... understand what he's doing, as he captures the strangest images.

Albedo uses his solar isotoma when you want to use it for better angles. Very supportive, as you'd hear a snap from beneath as you position your own Kamera.

The whole of Mond muses at both of your antics; as you two would most likely do the finger frame thingy impulsively when seeing something worth the attention, the people around you would chuckle at how cute you two looked, focused on your own little world.

He always gifts you extra films or anything related to photography when he can. Since he barely has time to go out sometimes, he has many backup gifts in bulk to whip out if ever he wants to pamper you with his material affection. Albedo is hyperaware of your hyperfixation and will always bring films the moment you run out, like foresight.

You can barely understand Albedo, despite the closeness you two had, he was still an enigma in most occasions. This was one of them. He had been binging on photography lately and everytime you look through the photos he captured, it didn't really make sense. The most random pictures that you wouldn't even dare use a film on strewn here and there, sometimes the photo is even cut off, and you'd think it was a mistake until he started organizing them in a system only he knows.

When you finally gathered up the courage to ask what all of it was about for, you were given a smile as cryptic as his album.

But as he pulls your hand with an excitement you've only seen when his chemical solution produces the expected buff, you somehow deduced that today would be the day you'd find out what the heck he was up to.

"It took longer than I expected it to be," he says as he starts unlocking a room in the Knights of Favonius HQ that you've never been in before, "but the end result was worth it."

Your confusion only grows as you were met with a face full of hanging pictures, most of it you recognize. Leaning over some and looking up on the higher ones, the amount of string and the confusing way they were set up, amazes you still with the amount of effort he had been using on such a big project.

Your untrained eyes loosely guess around 1000 films used for this.

The glass double doors that makes it way to the balcony opens loudly behind you. "Come here," you turn to see Albedo's silhouette open his arms against the setting sun behind him. "You're supposed to look at it from this distance." His arms engulfs you gently when you moved over, sending a gentle squeeze before he turns you back around to see the hanging pictures.

You gasp.

The depth and the splash of colors from this distance, aided with the sun, turned the hanging collage into an expertly placed collage as it shows you the bigger picture: a mold of your face of the first sketch Albedo made when you first met each other. The angles and colors measured to the dot to capture and replicate your beauty.

You feel his lips kiss the back of your head as you stared in awe.

Impromptu Albedo fluff yey

@albaedhoe @struggljng @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Albedo x Reader #genshin impact Albedo #exile.goblet #exile.flower #sojourner specials #gender neutral #fluffyyyyy #genshin impact headcanons

[jellyfishdooter]

Okay so, back when I asked for asks for my Ego DnD AU, @lace-maze sent a really good ask a while back asking about why each of the egos chose the characters they did and their playing styles- and I can’t for the LIFE of me find the original anywhere on my blog. ;3;

But! I finished it and I bet it reads horribly but whatever who cares I’m tired- enjoy!

So to FINALLY answer your question, the way I went about choosing what each of the egos would play more or less boiled down to a combo of trying to pick what I think THEY would want to play, and what I figured they would be in the Dungeons and Dragons universe. (wink wonk)

Marvin- Dragonborn Sorcerer

One of the top veterans of the game, he likes to play something with more of a challenge and a lot more mechanics. And since he’s a magician it’s definitely has to deal with magic of some kind (I mean c’mon, he’s already got the aesthetic wardrobe irl for it so why not?). So he’s currently playing a Sorcerer- a magic caster who has the power naturally within him (which ties in his Race for it’s from his draconic bloodline:)

He could have easily chosen his race to be a Tabaxi (a human-cat like hybrid), but he already got enough shit of being the “furry” of the group as it was so instead he decided to go for a Dragonborn. In the game there are different types of Dragonborn, so specifically he’s Brass- which both deals fire damage breath, and is also resistant to fire.

Being one of the older players, his play style depends on the day. For the most part he is the cool, collected member of the party who doesn’t rush in and thinks things through... Until it’s later in the evening with a few drink in ‘em and then they just say, “Yeah, this might as well happen.” Before taking another shot and round-housing someone poor guy’s ass for mocking his scaly features.

Jackie- Half-Orc Fighter

Always wanting to be the hero, Jackie wants to fight and protect his fellow party members. He only has a few sessions under his belt, but he’s confident in saying that he's comfortable with playing more tanky characters and dealing heavy damage.

Jackie doesn’t have a lot of reasoning for his Race other than Orcs Are Cool so he just rolls with that.

As for his Class he likes having a bunch of different fighting styles to choose from while in combat so he can pick and choose which would work best for the situation (they also get more of a range in picking which Armor Class they want-).

His play style is Protect the Party, but also Rush In Head First Into Danger. He’s always in the front lines of a fight to tank the most damage and provide cover for the more squishy characters. It can get quite frustrating for the healer at times when he runs battleaxe-first into battle, leaving his head behind.

Speaking of healers-

Henrik- High Elf Alchemist

A lot like Anti, Henrik found the idea of playing to be quite silly. But once he got into it, the doctor found it quite enjoyable to get into a fantasy character and forget about the real world for a couple of hours. But wanting to retain some kind of dignity, he decided to play as a High Elf. He was drawn to their grace, wonderlust for adventure, and near perfectionism. To say the least, it's easy for him to slip into character.

Strictly speaking, Alchemist is not the the 5E DnD Handbook, but Jack allowed it and made some homebrew additions to the character so their party would actually have a fucking healer. So in addition to the damage-dealing bombs Henrik’s character uses, he also has a special healing bomb he can yeet at the other players when needed.

Henrik’s play style is serious, but curious. He’s always wanting to explore the world Jack created for them and peacefully interact with the NPCs, enjoying events that unfold naturally. However when it’s time for a proper fight he does not beat around the bush, staying in the back for more long-ranged attacks rather than right on the front lines.

Chase- Human Ranger

The recently-single father needed an outlet other than drinking to try and cope with the loss of his family. So like any good friend, Jack offered Chase a spot in his campaign that he was putting together! He wasn’t too sure at first, Chase said that the game seemed really complex and hard to get into. But Jack waves it off and told his friend, “You honestly have to fully jump into it if you’re gonna get anywhere. There’s not really a small way to start. It’s pretty much all or nothing. But trust me, it’s gonna be great!” And ever since his first session, Chase always looked forward to next week’s game.

Being one of the newer players, Chase doesn’t really play anything too crazy, so he sticks to his guns and runs a Human pc. And he may or may not have based the character on his old life to some degree. Giving himself a stable home, a fulfilling job, and a big loving family and at least 3 dogs. Ya’know, real heavy fantasy stuff.

Jack offered him the newer class/ homebrew of a Gunslinger, but he politely declined ‘cause he didn’t want to have to deal with new rules. So he decided to go with a Ranger for his class, figuring it would make for a cool character to play.

Chase’s play style is pretty average (no pun intended), and not all that spectacular. He gets a few good one-liners in here and there, but for the most part he plays passively. Fights when there’s a fight, and interacts almost only when others interact with him directly. (He’s been trying to get better at being more engaging, but he tends to zone out.)

Jameson- Halfling Bard

This session being JJ’s (and Robbie’s) first ever game, JJ pleasantly surprised Jack when he decided to be a Bard. When asked why, the silent man replied simply, “There’s nothing in the rules saying bards HAVE to sing. At the core of them, they are performers.” Jack beams and asks what’s their instrument of choice then? Jameson smiles and shows him this video, saying he thinks it would be interesting to have this as his musical item. (Also gotta love that good The Bard Seduces Everything trope. He’s keeping that in his back pocket for the right moment.)

As for being a Halfling, Jameson figured it would be fun to play a smaller character. And nobody ever suspects the small man to pack such a whaloop. But really, his love for the hobbits in the Tolkin books had captured his heart and really wanted to try and emulate that in the game! Maybe leaning more towards being a little prankster, but still at the core- in short- Soft Cottage Aesthetic™

Jameson’s play style is bouncy and go-gettem. He’s eager to explore the world and have fun with the NPCs. In battles he’s more comedic relief in the back inspiring the other players (and intimidating enemies by aggressively cranking his music box rapidly). And AT LEAST ONCE he has had Jackie’s character YEET his at the enemy to get the final blow to slay the beast. That was a fun session.

Anti- Changeling Rouge 

Do I really gotta explain this one? 

Naturally Anti always tries to play the edgiest characters he can. Giving them dark, moody personalities but with a slight crazed tick. (Chase naturally calls hypocrisy when Anti says his character is a self-insert to the game.)

I’m almost out of steam here so in short-

Anti loves the idea of having puppets to mess around with irl- so in the game he can somewhat do the same- by changing his figure/ features to mimic those of somebody to manipulate another. He doesn’t care much for the society around him and does his own thing, but can easily blend in and slip into other’s traditions if he needs to. His character has a tendency to pick fights pretending to be someone else before ducking out and watch the fight take place with a smirk on his hidden features. None of the party has ever seen his real face/ form, always changing it subtly so every time someone tries to take a second look something seems different or off.

Rouge: Quick and Stabby. Like the bitch himself.

Robbie- Undead Druid

Jack had to make a special homebrew character for Robbie ‘cause he was set on being an Undead. Apparently Robbie and Marvin talked about character ideas before hand and Robbie got a little overwhelmed with all the options that they had, so Marv suggested something Rob could relate to easier. So after an afternoon of crafting a special stat sheet, Jack allowed their favorite zombie ego to play.. Well, a zombie. (I’m sure someone else has made something similar out there but I might try and make a sheet later.. That could be fun lmao)

As for Druid, I like to see Robbie as being a little more connected to nature than the rest of the egos. Since he.. Yaknow, crawled out of the dirt at one point. (Side story- before the others found him in an old cemetery, he liked to just hang out around the area that was slowly being reclaimed by nature and liked watched the birds and animals). So he was pretty drawn to choosing this class. It’s a little complicated at points, but that’s why Marvin sits between him and JJ, so he can help them out through the whole process. Robbie gets really excited when one of his spells works in combat or just having fun interacting with the NPCs by growing them some flowers to be nice. 

As a whole Robbie’s play style is pretty passive. He gets distracted pretty easily and unless Jack is waving his arms around or using miniatures/ figurines to keep a visual, the zombie will sometimes lose focus and stare off into space for a minute before coming back to the game and raising his hand for something to be repeated.

It’s one big mixing pot of different people and play styles, but at the end of the day, Jack has a lot of fun trying to bounce around and keep up with everyone’s antics and storylines. It’s hard as hell at times and it gets a little frustrating when things get out of hand, but they all try to check each other and keep things rolling. And at the end of the day, all the boys enjoy the game and what Jack has to offer and really fucking enjoy themselves. DnD is a good destresser for most of them and all around a grand fun time!

#shut up jelly #in which egos play dungeons and dragons #dnd au #jse egos #lace-maze

[rasoir-national]

5 male characters I love

So I got tagged by @antirococoreaction​​ to name 5 male characters I love, and as always I asked myself the immortal question : do I pick characters I love as characters, as in, characters I love for how interesting they are, or do I pick characters I love as people ? And for once, I decided to go with the narrowest of the two, the second one, for two reasons.

First, because there’s this latent belief in media that bad is more interesting than good, leading to the pernicious trope that characters who are “good people” are boring. That’s patently false : just as it’s difficult to be a good person, and I think we should highlight characters who demonstrate that.

Second, because there’s this tendency, in tumblr culture, from which I am not at all exempt, to avoid giving focus to masculinity in a positive manner, because mainstream media would do that already. But you could argue that mainstream media is much more focused on toxic masculinity and masculinity as a “default” than on exploring masculinity in its richness and uniqueness. So I want to do that too : to highlight characters whose masculinity is a inherent and essential part of who they are and why I love them. Let’s roll.

Dionysus/Umar from The Wicked+The Divine (Kieron Gillen & Jamie McKelvie)

He is such a good person. That’s what you think the first time you meet him, and that’s what you’ll continue to think, even as the comic goes on and adds nuance upon nuance on every character. The god of wine and parties reincarnated as a young man with rave/hivemind and ecstasy-like powers. And also a kind friend, a sensitive listener, someone who is keenly aware of the limits of what you can do for other people yet will give all he has so people can have at least that, be it one good night amidst sorrow and depression, or a shoulder to cry on. Dio is good to a fault, as in, his goodness is arguably his flaw. He gives himself so completely, to everyone, that it endangers his own sanity, and make other people’s selfishness and entitlement come out. He is a perfect illustration of why putting yourself first is not just a flaw when done in excess, it is at its core a survival skill : if you do not put barriers between you and the others, you will crumble. Dio is a study in true altruism that not many stories have the courage to make. He is also canonically asexual, and strongly implied to be biromantic, although that’s almost incidental in Wicdiv, in which almost every single character is lgbtqia+ and treated with respect. Seriously, read Wicdiv guys.

Kurama from Yu Yu Hakusho (Yoshihiro Togashi)

YYH is one of the most insidious yet brilliant deconstructions of the shoûnen tropes out there. While some of its material, while groundbreaking at the time (starting with a fleshed-out, sympathetic gay character coming with a critique of japanese homophobia), has aged with the strides made in matters of representation, its commentary on masculinity and especially how it’s usually handled in the typical shoûnen holds up extremely well in my opinion. And one of its centers is Kurama. Created to be a riff on the classic “bishounen” character (to the point that one of the running gags of the manga is Kurama getting increasingly annoyed with the attitude of female side characters around him), Kurama is my favourite kind of good person, the one who is deeply aware that he is capable of horrible things. He is the rare character who begins the story at the tail end of his redemption arc, having already decided to change ; his arc in the manga is about trying to figure out what that means. And the manga does not pull punches with him : he has to reckon with what he’s done, to try and navigate his new moral compass in a world that’s just waiting to use it against him. And it gets... cruel. Kurama is a perfect example of how quickly and often certain traits can toe the line between making you a terrible person or a good one. Everytime he fights, Kurama has to make the choice to do good, over and over. And it’s not easy. It’s not supposed to be easy. And if YYH has one message, it’s that everyone who tells you otherwise is lying.

Father Marcus Keane (Ben Daniels) from The Exorcist series

Memory functions best by association, so reading @antirococoreaction​‘s list immediately got me thinking about The Exorcist and Father Marcus. Just like Cardinal Gutierrez, he is both a man of faith and a mlm. And while his orientation is not the focus of the show, it’s present, layered and realistic in all of it - credit to openly gay actor Ben Daniels who portrays him. It’s especially present in his relationship with the other lead, portrayed by Alfonso Herrera as a young, charismatic priest whom the Church sees as a political pawn, whom I could also have chosen for this list. Just like I could have chosen John Cho as the single foster father of adopted “problem” children who has to cope with the death of his wife. See, what’s extraordinary about The Exorcist series is exactly what I was talking about in the intro : whatever masculinity means, it doesn’t take it for granted. Which is why the second season manages to have three male leads that are all incredible characters, incredibly good people, while vastly different from one another. Marcus is probably the most “morally grey” of the three, but in what that term sholuld mean rather than what mainstream media tends to make of it. Marcus in an unquestionably good person in a world where doing good often means making excrutiating choices. Marcus is someone devastated by these choices, who has to try and find hope again, guided in part by the young Father Tomas. While Marcus roughly fits the “jadded brooding lead” archetype, but in every detail of his character and portrayal he is imbued by a depth that’s rare in the horror genre. I will never forgive Fox for cancelling this gem of a series right as both the plot and the main characters were coming at a turning point. My advice if you want to watch it : don’t read anything, just go in blind.

Jean-Baptiste Adamsberg from the Adamsberg novels (Fred Vargas)

Adamsberg is a cop. I know that’s a dealbreaker for some people, and I respect that. But his profession seems almost incidental to the character. Adamsberg shouldn’t be a cop, Adamsberg is that guy you see in the street who stops all of the sudden, fascinated by something, and it drives you crazy that you don’t see what. Adamsberg is a dreamer, he feels things rather that he knows them, and yet somehow is always right in the end. He’s like a magician. He’s not always kind. He can be violent. He’s not always clever. In fact, sometimes he acts downright stupid. Yet there is always this kindness, this intelligence around him, about the way people are and the way people should be. When I was a kid, the Adamsberg series was the first I read in which, hearing another man using a degrading language to talk about women, the main character immediately shut him down. As I grew up, I came to think of Adamsberg as the way women wished men were, though they weren’t. In reality, there is a lot in Adamsberg that’s exactly how men are, both good and bad. He’s a character who shouldn’t feel real yet does in the strange, poetic world created by Fred Vargas for what is one of the strangest crime series I’ve ever read. If the Doctor was the protagonist of a crime series, they would be Adamsberg. Growing up afab, Adamsberg was one of the few male protagonists I didn’t feel actively disrespected by as I was reading. The first four books of the series, The Chalk Circle Man, Seeking whom he may devour, Have mercy on us all and Wash this blood clean from my hand, are absolute classics I heartily recommend. It’s some of the smartest, weirdest crime novels out there.

Zeno Ligre from The Abyss (Marguerite Yourcenar)

I... God, what do you even say about what may well be your favourite character in all of literature, in what may well be your favourite book ? I fell in love in Zeno when I was fifteen, fell as hard as you could for someone who didn’t exist. Zeno starts the story as a young adult and ends it as an old man. You follow his entire life, from his childhood as the bastard child in a rich belgian family in the 16th Century, to becoming a respected yet feared and misunderstood alchemist, all through the turmoil of religious and political wars and plagues. Zeno is the best representation of what it was truly like to be a man ahead of his time in a time of intolerance and obscurantism. As an isolated high schooler who felt like I had nothing in common with my peers, you can imagine how I could relate. The Abyss is a strange, dense book which I probably read too soon, but which absolutely enthralled me to the point that I refused to even open another book weeks after finishing it because I simply couldn’t bear the thought not to be still reading The Abyss. It made History and Philosophy realer than any of my classes. And front and center of it is Zeno, Zeno you see grow and age, with whom you discover and fear, who utterly captures you with how grand a man can truly be, how extraordinary life itself, from beginning to end, is. Zeno is a man trying to shine a light on the world, trying to live by the precepts of philosophers, and once again is faced by what being a good man means, and whether it even matters to be one in a world such as the Middle Ages. I don’t know what to say except read it, and you’ll see why I’m at such a loss for words. Oh, and you might cry a lot. I know I did, not necessarily because it was sad, but simply because it was over, and I couldn’t read it for the first time again.

Here you have it. Wow, that was way too long.

And of course there’s almost no one left for me to tag, because we’re like 15 people talking in a circle.

#tag game

[srnokedmirrors]

* . day to night , dark to light     fall the  s a n d s  o f  t i m e .

                         { ross lynch, twenty-one, trans male, he/him } Have you seen ZELD CYELN “CIEL” NOHANSEN walking around?  Little do they know, they’re the child of LINK & PRINCESS ZELDA from THE LEGEND OF ZELDA, and they HAVE TWO SIBLINGS ( one older, one younger ) .  I guess that explains why they’re so CHARMING & ARTISTIC and GUARDED & INSECURE.  They are a STREAMER. — penned by eve.

FIRST THINGS FIRST.

Hello hello again , folks !! It’s EVE and if you thought I went completely feral about Resident Evil earlier you are . . . sorely mistaken because now we are in Zelda territory and Zelda encompasses literally every fiber of my being. This OC is my most beloved ( despite the fact he’s an absolute prick ) and I have been itching to write him as a next-gen of Zelink , so VOILA , but just a few things !!

I love The Legend of Zelda . . . a lot. That’s the first thing. And my friends call me the Zelda lorekeeper since I know pretty much everything about the games like that back of my hand.

Another - as it’s always been a fact about his character , Ciel here is diagnosed with Type II Bipolar. Now , I want to clarify that I also am the same , and he was originally written as a comfort character to sorta see myself in a character I wrote ( and he became his own dude over the years. ) It’s not something that’ll pop up often , but I just wanted to let y’all know since I’m not gonna erase my own rep , I write from experience since I’m the same. 

TWS AHEAD : Manipulation , mental illness

I. THE PAST - DO YOU REMEMBER ??

The second of The Hero & The Princess - Prince Zeld Cyeln Nohansen , carrying on the traditional naming conventions to keep the name Zelda in the family with obvious corruptions. Your older brother could not - and AS WELL , you are the only child in the family that possesses the holy powers of the royal bloodline that your mother carries , as shown by the brand of the Triforce on the back of your right hand. And immediately , expectations are thrust upon your shoulders before you can even walk.

It’s because of your power that you , instead of the eldest , are to succeed the throne as the next king of Hyrule once you become of age , and although your mother vows to not treat you the same as your father treat her , she often reminds you that the beautiful , sunlight-bathed kingdom will be yours. 

So you grow. You grow & you adapt to the life of royalty , the CROWN PRINCE , and your relationship with your parents is better than most. While you’re significantly closer to your mother than your father , spending your days in the library with her & learning how to paint her visage , you also follow your father out to scope the kingdom on horseback. You grow up kind & gentle , the intelligence of your mother but the softness of your father , and it is well-known throughout the kingdom that you are DESTINED for good things.

It’s when you’re fourteen years old that you meet a boy.

A boy your age , a boy who smiles at you and you get fairies fluttering in your stomach. A boy who tells you that you’re pretty and by Nayru are you getting your first crush ?? 

Hm.

But you can’t see through the lies - that even though you’re young , manipulation knows no age and you are heartbroken to find that this boy leads you to a group of bandits that go on the attack and aim to STEAL the raw power you carry. After you’re tricked into bringing magical artifacts to their clutches , that is , that your family has gathered over the years - the goddess harp , the ocarina of time , and the cursed , wicked Majora’s Mask.

Your father sweeps into rescue you , and although you feel guilty , you aren’t berated for your mistakes. He only wants to know what happened , and if you’re alright , and you’re a sobbing mess but you tell your parents everything and they recognize that the evil forces that plagued them are NOW targeting their offspring. 

You are only fourteen. But the betrayal turns you cold , and you close yourself off , now hesitant to trust. And you learn that there are DANGEROUS forces out there who want to hurt & use you in the same way , hence why you use your mother’s old study connected to her old bedroom ( now currently yours ) and you begin to research , research , research. You look back on the legends of old , and start practicing the magic of not only your bloodline , but the taboo power of shadow - such as that of the TWILI , a project aiming to recreate the mirror. You also use the mask , hoping to tap into the wicked power it carries to turn it around. You train with the Sheikah , as Sheikah blood runs in your veins as well , to master the art of using the shadows & the unseen to your advantage. You become a teenager devoted to your work - a mad scientist & magician , and the whispers of a ‘ mad alchemist prince ’ sweep throughout the kingdom due to the rumors you can stay awake for DAYS working on one thing , before crashing and moving onto the next. 

But there is still pain - a loneliness & a hurt which you try to bury deep down , but it’ll still consume you to the point where you don’t know how to think clearly. You try and mask yourself best you can , but there is still a little boy , deep down , who only wishes to be loved and cared for and cherished by people his own age. Your work is your comfort but you are also learning to sink yourself in it to the point where it’s becoming a hindrance. 

One day , maybe , you’ll get what you want - and everything will be okay. But the world is currently at your throat , so . . . how long will that be ??

Your sixteenth year changes everything. The Crown Prince goes missing , and he is lost without the comfort of his parents.

And he awakens in another day , as a new being , with only his wit & his charm to carry on.

II. PRESENT - WHO ARE YOU , YOURSELF ??

Okay so IN A NUTSHELL Ciel is the crown prince of Hyrule due to the fact he’s essentially the ‘Zelda’ of his generation - the only child that carries the sacred power of the goddess Hylia , and this kid is incredibly smart and artistic but due to being manipulated by dark forces when he was young , he’s EXTREMELY insecure and lacks trust , instead trying to become as powerful as possible by any means possible so he isn’t hurt again since now he’s a target like his parents were.

HIS CHARACTER . . . is incredibly complex. It doesn’t change much with or without memories because even though he hasn’t experienced that same shit , those trust issues & insecurities are still well-embedded into him. The main difference is that he’s still smart , but not because of excessive research on Hyrulean magic & history & technology.

ON THE SURFACE , Ciel appears to be honestly very exuberant , quick-talking , and , to some , annoying. He’s a bit of a loudmouth , he seems harmless in the aspect that he isn’t downright mean or anything , he’s just . . . a nuisance. Charming in the aspect that he knows how to talk his way out of any situation since he has a MOUTH on him , but he knows how to use it. He overshares , it seems , but in turn , he’s actually not revealing anything about himself of any importance. He’s just keeping his cards to his chest but he doesn’t anyone to see so , so he places counterfeit cards on the table.

Ciel is always one step ahead , and the best way to be is to convince everyone else that you’re far behind. 

NOW ON THE INSIDE . . . Ciel is extremely caring & gentle. He cares a lot about the people he loves , but he’s hesitant to open up or trust other people given the fact he doesn’t want to be hurt , and he doesn’t want to make mistakes. He’s very observant & again , incredibly intelligent , knowing well how to read the atmosphere and pick out things that most don’t notice. He is insecure in the fact that he constantly thinks horribly of himself , and although he’s great at hiding it , it’s easy to get his feelings hurt. He hates that he has to keep on a mask since it makes him easily unlikable , but he thinks it’s the only way to stave off the most damage. But he’s a good kid & has a heart of gold , it’s just that . . . his heart has a few booboos on it. He CRAVES love & validation & affection but he’s afraid to ask for it or to take it since he’s gone down worse roads before by opening up to the wrong people.

He’s an artist - very talented in drawing & painting !! His apartment is littered with sketches & drawings and supplies and he would’ve gone to art school but money is tight and he doesn’t know he’s a prince in his actual reality so . . . yeah.

But his day job is that he’s a VERY popular video game streamer named Alchemyst , mainly doing let’s plays of adventure games & stuff with friends to get a good laugh. He also has a tendency to go on hilarious rants in a lot of his videos , resulting in MANY fanmade compilations & memes. He’s got a dedicated fanbase that he openly adores , and streaming also sorta helps him since he is a bit afraid of going into the outside world slightly. 

It’s funny , because as a streamer , he isn’t at all obnoxious or annoying - it’s the closest he gets to acting like himself , even if he has to act a little more EXTROVERTED than he actually is. 

THAT’S THE BASIS again , much more of a show than tell character but . . . Love him. I love him.

I DON’T have much ideas for wanted connections at this point aside from like . . . friends , exes , crushes , enemies , fans of his stream , etc. When I get more of a braincell I’ll put specific stuff down , but if it HELPS his fake life is shrouded in mystery bc Ciel doesn’t like talking about it ( aka , his fake past was p bad so he just prefers to act like he came out of fucking nowhere. )

But that’s it !! I’ll b responding to starters & calls soooon ~ ! I am ALL for plotting if u guys want , so just hit me up on here or Discord n I’ll respond as soon as I can !!

#awakenings:intro #* . abt : ciel #manipulation tw #mental illness tw

[imustbeamermaidrango]

The Optimism of Satan

by Mitch Horowitz

See article at: https://medium.com/s/radical-spirits/the-optimism-of-satan-eea5a1a24550

A friend of mine once had the opportunity to ask the Dalai Lama a single question.

“Who was your greatest teacher?” he asked.

The exiled leader replied, “Mao Zedong.”

I once felt provoked in my own sphere by a similarly unlikely teacher — Donald Trump.

Years ago, Trump the Developer asked an interviewer: “What good is something if you can’t put your name on it?” His comment is indelibly stamped on my memory, though I confess I cannot find a source for it. Did I imagine it? The sentiment, while coarse and easily rebutted, came to haunt me.

Did Trump, the showy conman obsessed with naming rights, capture a nagging truth of human nature — a side none of us can deny or push away, other than by an act of self-regarding hypocrisy? And did I, hopefully in a more integral way, share a kernel of his outlook? Was the voice even his — or something within me?

Soon after hearing Trump’s remark, I received what struck me as a bit of ridiculous advice from the editor of an academic spiritual journal. I told him in candor that I wanted to find greater exposure for my byline. “You don’t have to put your name on everything you write,” he replied. Such a principle could ring true only in the world of abstraction.

Trump’s statement about self-exaltation, however ugly, captured half a truth. The whole truth is that our lives, as vessels for various influences — some physical, some perhaps beyond — are bound up with the world and circumstances in which we find ourselves; and within that world we must, at the stake of personal happiness, create, expand, and aspire. Whatever higher influences we feel or great thoughts we think, or are experienced by us through the influence of others, are like heat dissipated in the vacuum of space unless those thoughts are directed into a structure or receptacle. Our purpose is to be generative. Questions of attachment and non-attachment, identification and non-identification, are incidental to that larger fact.

I came to feel strongly about this several years ago when I found that my spiritual search, a path of radical ecumenism with a dedication to esoteric interests, was failing to satisfy me. I began to suspect that I was not acknowledging what I was really looking for, either in spirituality — by which I mean a search for the extra-physical — or therapy. I came face-to-face with an instinct that few people acknowledge, and would deny if they heard it spoken. But they should linger on it. Because what I discovered captures what I believe is a basic if discomforting human truth: The ethical or spiritual search, not as idealized but as actually lived, is a search for power. That is, for the ability to possess personal agency. We pray, “Thy will be done.” We mean “my will be done” — hoping that the two comport. This is why, at least in my observations after thirty years as a publisher, seeker, and historian of alternative spirituality, many seekers in both traditional and alternative faiths are ill at ease, fitful in their progress, and apt to slide from faith to faith, or to harbor multiple, sometimes conflicting, practices at once.

Power is supposed to be the craving of the corrupt. Is it? The novelist Isaac Bashevis Singer, surveying the modern occult scene, wrote in 1967: “We are all black magicians in our dreams, in our fantasies, perversions, and phobias.” And to this I would add, in pursuit of our highest ideals. As Singer detected, we are not very different from the classical magician when we strive, morally and materially, to carry forth our plans in the world — to ensure the betterment of ourselves and our loved ones; to heal sickness; to create, sustain, and, above all, to generate things which bear our markings, ideals, and likenesses. All of this is the expenditure of power, the striving to actualize our drives and images.

I do not view the search for individual power, including through supernatural means (a topic I will clarify and expand on), as necessarily maleficent. Historically and psychologically, it is a fundamental human trait to evaluate, adopt, or avoid an idea based upon whether it builds or depletes our sense of personal agency. “A living thing,” Nietzsche wrote in Beyond Good and Evil, “seeks above all to discharge its strength — life itself is will to power…” The difficulty is in making our choices wisely, and ethically.

I know how far I’m extending my chin by quoting Nietzsche. I sound like a dorm-room libertine. A critic once accused me of harboring an adolescent wish to power. To that, I plead guilty — but with a catch. I do believe in universal reciprocity, an indelible oneness of existence, and I operate from a ground rule of nonviolence. By that, I do not mean abstention from self-defense but rather an unwillingness to violate the sanctity of another’s search, to knowingly do anything that would deprive another of his or her own pursuit of highest potential. And since the political question is never far away, I’ll note that my policy preferences run to a mildly redistributive social democratic state with single-payer healthcare, labor unions, and consumer protections with teeth.

As alluded, sensitive people often deny or overlook their power-seeking impulse, associating it with the tragic fate of Faust or Lady Macbeth. It can be argued, however, that all of our neuroses and feelings of chronic despair, aside from those with identifiably biological causes, grow from the frustrated expression of personal power. We may spend a lifetime (and countless therapy sessions) ascribing our problems to other, more secondary phenomena — without realizing that, as naturally as a bird is drawn to the dips and flows of air currents, we are in the perpetual act of trying to forge, create, and sustain, much like the ancient alchemist or wizard.

The ultimate frustration of life is that, while we seem to be granted godlike powers — giving birth, creating beauty, spanning space and time, devising machines of incredible might — we are bound to physical forms that quickly decay. “Ye are gods,” wrote the psalmist, adding “but yet shall die as princes.” Immortality and the reversal of bodily decline is the one magic no one has ever mastered. The wish to surpass the boundaries of our physicality is behind some of our most haunting myths and parables, from the Trojan prince Tithonus, to whom the gods granted immortality but trapped in a shell of misery and decay for failing to request eternal youth, to the doomed scientist Victor Frankenstein, who sought the ultimate alchemy of creating life only to bring destruction on everyone around him.

We live in a sphere of limitations. But we cannot desist from pushing against its limits. It is our heritage.

Many of us grew up learning the story of humanity’s fall from grace in the biblical parable of the garden of paradise, where the serpent — long associated with the Great Adversary (a guest who’ll soon be arriving) — seduces Eve, and then she Adam, into eating forbidden fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. But take a fresh reading, or a first reading, of the sparsely detailed chapter three of Genesis. When revisiting this familiar story in virtually any translation, you’ll see not only that the serpent’s argument is based in truth — the couple does not perish for eating the apple, and their eyes are, in fact, opened to good and evil (indeed, some scholars contend that the garden’s two trees, the tree of knowledge and the tree of life, are the same)— but also that Eve, contrary to a shibboleth about feminine nature, does not seduce Adam, who requires little coaxing. The serpent even suggests, as augmented in other texts, that Yahweh displays cruel hypocrisy by forbidding intellectual illumination, even as its availability sits in the garden’s midst.

We’re taught, too, that the denouement of Eve’s misstep was her son Cain slaying his brother Abel. But Cain’s tragic act of fratricide may reflect, in discomforting realism, the unavoidable consequence of creativity: friction. Competing ideologies and the wish to measure and evaluate may be the inevitable cost of awareness. But without the rebel, the malcontent, the usurper — the snake in the garden — how could humanity claim sentience?

Lord Byron used his 1821 drama, Cain, one of the dramatist’s most alluring and under-appreciated works, to take the marked brother’s side. And to introduce the most jarring literary re-conception of Lucifer next to Milton’s. Byron’s antihero, who befriends the rebellious Cain, is persuasive and penetrating in his denial that he was the serpent in the garden, yet he points out that the serpent greeted Eve as a sexual and political emancipator — an outlook embraced by many proto-feminists and political radicals of that century and the next. Byron’s dark lord is a fiery optimist on the side of the malcontents: “I know the thoughts/Of dust, and feel for it, and with you.”

I began to question whether the forces of creation with which I most identified — whether parabolic or metaphysical — were these same forces of Promethean defiance. Forces of aspiration who rallied to the cry of the demon Moloch in Paradise Lost: “Hard liberty before the easy yoke.”

Now, one could ask: why think of any of this other than in material terms? Why not put away my Bhagavad Gita in favor of Atlas Shrugged? Because, as noted, I believe that truth is not contained within flesh and bone alone. I think we participate in an existence that goes beyond the five senses. And I believe that our ancient ancestors were correct in deifying certain energies and understanding oneself in relation to them; they gave them names like Thoth, Hermes, Minerva, and Set. Hence, I began to take a long and considered look at such an energy, to which I have been alluding, but which I have not yet named: Satan. This term has its own complicated past, it has gotten me cast out of a garden or two myself, but I employ it both to acknowledge its colloquial primacy and as a bow to bluntness.

There exists a rich and underappreciated counter narrative of humanity’s encounter with what is called “Satanic” in Western life particularly, but not only, in the literature of the Romantics. This countercurrent of spiritual, political, and cultural history — and present — has been insufficiently understood, historically confused, and blurred by entertainment, conspiracy theorists, sensationalism, and fraud (such as the “Satanic Panic” of the 1980s).

My wish then, is to encourage a second look where we’re not supposed to be looking — that is, to take a more unadorned, elucidating, and even hopeful perspective on the Satanic. Milton has Satan say: “The mind is its own place, and in it self/Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.” Again, Satan is an optimist. Me too. No cards under the table: my journey — and perhaps yours — includes constructively wondering whether my own search for a personal, spiritual, and ethical philosophy (I have one — and it’s vital to me) lies east of Eden, or within what is popularly but incompletely called the “dark side.” That’s what I’ve been describing.

Darkness is not a void; it’s a womb. And in the territory of truth and consensual experiment, there exist no boundaries of exploration.

#Mitch Horowitz #satan #satanism #snake #adam and eve #cain and abel #power #ethics #reciprocity

[chaostwofold]

1-41 on the asks? Also gn

1. if you were to have Hanahaki disease, what flowers would you cough up?

Morning glories!! not only are they already my favorite flower, theyre extremely toxic and mean unconditional love! i have a tendency to fall for the wrong people and not realize until after,, BUT thats only half and half!! some people i loved unconditionally and contine to love them and others set me back in the recovery process,,

2. if someone were to catch Hanahaki disease for you, what flowers would they cough up?

Begonias id assume? not only are hanahaki flowers supposed to represent your feelings, they should also represent the person. begonias are known for misfortune, dark/unpleasant thoughts, and caution to new situations. on the flip side, its harmonious communications, understanding, and gratitude.

3. if you were any historic trope, what would you be? (i.e., the knight, the town baker, the witch of the forest, etd.)

hm. well, what about the urchin whos actually a prince? someone who originates from grand places, a great misfortune turns them into something undesirable and possibly bitter, and then when theyre brought back to the light of stability they provide for those who are in the same situation as he was

4. tell us about your ideal battle outfit

im long range magic tactics and healing always bc im too afraid of conflict :pensive: but the closest thing would probably be something flexible but strong, in black and the more sensitive areas like the neck and thighs covered more carefully (read: shadowhunter gear)

5. what would you be a god/goddess of and what would people sacrifice to you?

change on an emotional and mental plane. they would sacrifice those who refuse to change for the better. i determine what is better, and if they choose the wrong person to sacrifice they would pay depending on why they attempted to sacrifice someone who didnt deserve it.

6. name five iconic quotes that make you feel things.

“there is a difference between wisdom and intelligence... a person may have one without the other.” is an all time favorite from my favorite book The Soulforge by Margret Weis!!!!!!!

“plant your trees and watch them grow.” OUGH

 “There is a thin semantic line separating the weird and the beautiful. and that line is covered in jellyfish.” NIGHTVALE

“Ive been good sir / so very very good for what? / and ive given you / every single thing ive got / its feeling strange man / this whole arrangement / is gonna end with / me totally deranged” From Disobedient, from su:tm!!! it slaps man

“ What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? / What are you wondering? What do you know? / Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me?” Ah. billie eilish ily

7. scythe, battle axe, broad sword, spear or trident?

Scythe! the weapon of fate and peace,, it is used to reap the souls of those deemed to die and its used for harvesting crops!! the end of all thngs, its a graceful and symbolical weapon.

8. what combination of natural scents would you use as perfume?

Vaniila, star anise, and clary sage

9. ancient scrolls or leather-bound books?

leather bound books!!

10. describe yourself as if you were a storm.

a cyclone, probably. something threatening on the outside but extremely calm on the inside.

11. what type of flower (other than a rose) would you offer someone you were trying to court?

amaryllis, which is splendid beauty and worth beyond beauty

12. honey in milk or cinnamon in tea?

cinnamon in tea!!!

13. cabin in the woods, apartment in the city or mansion in the suburbs?

apt in the city

14. curtains of beads or lace?

bead curtains!!! retro AND can be like “hoohoo welcome to my brewery pick your literal poison im a witch”

15. vocal or instrumental music?

yall know i could never pick,, music is too much of an intimate thing too be taken lightly (whch is one of the reasons i have a burning hatred for jokey nursery rhymes like baby shark)

16. describe your ideal fantasy outfit

SOBS okay so. ough it depends man. i rlly like the idea of like. ponchos and shawls n stuff,,, id prolly go for a witch in the woods ngl (the prince REPRESENTS me the best but. witch of the dark woods is my aesthetic) so prolly like a heavy green shawl over a black shirt and jeans and combat boots or smth,,, i WOULD have a flower crown of poisonous flowers, yes

Changeling or shapeshifter definitely!! to be able to constantly change form in super mecore

18. hard candy, fruit preserves or spice cake?

fruit preserves

19. show us an a picture of your ideal crown.

you all knew it was gonna happen ( its a mountain laurel!! poisonous. of course)

20. tying your hair up using ribbon, yay or nay?

my hair is WAY too short for that but i used to do it when i had longer hair and its a definite yay

21. an evening in the forest with elves, a night in the caves with vampires or a morning in the garden with fae?

an evening in the forest with elves or a morning in the garden with fae!! i cant decide man,,, if it had been a night in a victorian castle w vamps i wouldve been tied w that too but caves are a dwarven thing

22. tell us, in detail, about a curse a witch would put on you.

hm. maybe like. a true self thing? where im forced to say what i mean, i cant say sorry for things im not sorry for, i have to say when things make me uncomfy, i just become less timid (the witch who cursed me got pissed off bc i said sorry too much and didnt answer questions properly)

23. talking with sylphs or singing with nymphs?

talking with sylphs prolly??? i dunno man ive always loved sylphs ngl

24. mint, rosemary, basil or sage?

def mint

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

what childhood lmao (honestly?? i loved reading the grim fairytales just over and over)

26. tell us about an experience you’ve had that seemed unreal or supernatural. (doesn’t have to be scary)

uhhh one time i was accused of witchcraft bc i was “guessing” peoples fav colours at a christian summer camp and our supervisors asked me to stop bc it was freaking them out bc im not christian (i had them close their eyes, think of their colour, and i would see it bc id close my eyes) OH also one time luke spoiled some pl stuff bc he was thinking abt the spoiler too loudly

27. would you rather have poison or healing ointment in your traveling pack?

oh healing def!! i already know a bunch of native poisonous plants so itll b fine

28. tell us three sayings that you live by.

only two chances for everyone, and then i cut them off entirely

cringe culture is dead. the only cringy people are assholes

hurt luke youre dead

29. vials or mason jars?

no. no. you CANNOT make me pick. its illegal

30. describe your ideal masquerade ball outfit (mask included).

uh! moss green, its a onepiece thats baggy and tied with a golden decorative rope at the waist and tightened at the ankles!! its loose at the sleeves and the shoulders are showing whereas the neck is turtled!! there are designs showing black mambas and lilies of the valley (poisonous...). the mask is black and covers my right eye, with subtle smooth scales on it.

31. splashing around in a river with mermaids or flying through the sky with harpies?

BOTH are p mean uh. i said sylphs earlier so ig ill go mermaids??? plus im afraid of heights

32. what would you end up in the dungeon for?

as the royal magician/wizard/witch/alchemist/magic jester? calling the royal family out on their bullshit

33. if you were a fairy, what color would your wings be?

they would be black owls wings!!! (if you meant pixies, like tinkerbell, you shouldve said pixies fam :pensive:)

34. if you could have any magical item, what would it be?

deaths cloak or a truth charm to get people to tell me, you guessed it, the truth

35. what song would the bards sing about you when you passed by?

a song about grim ends ad new beginnings.

36. would you rather be a pirate or a king/queen?

royalty! so i can fuck shit up from the inside

37. would you spend more time in the field of flowers, the tavern, the docks or the marketplace?

field of flowers or marketplace!! seeing the things people create and natural beauty and solitude are both wonderful

38. would you have a painting of yourself?

a modest one with a very dark palette, with my eyes painted a gleaming golden.

39. what skill are you famous for?

i talk rlly fast

40. if you could live any fairy tale, which one would you?

im not sure,, 

41. stained glass windows or fairy lights?

FAIRYLIGHTSFAIRYLIGHTSFAIRYLIGHTS