I will never let go of the misunderstanding they have born of this lmao It delights me. When Sidony assumed that Cassandra was into everything in her books, so she started bringing up xyz kinks. And, Cassandra went along even though it wasn't her kink because she now assumed it was Sidony's kink. Until they finally had a talk about it and were like "oh so neither of us were really into that" lmao

For the sake of clarity, they weren't making themselves do things that were hard no's and neither was pressuring the other into anything. It was both of them going "huh didn't know she was into that" and engaging in it because it wasn't a hard no for them so if the other was really into it they were willing to play in that space. Only to find out neither was actually that into it; they'd just hit a communication error.

All that aside, Cassandra is kneejerk embarrassed because she's accustomed to hiding this part of herself. She's shy about her love of romances, let alone smut. And, she has illustrated smut, too. She's been conditioned to expect judgment for this, and is therefore mortified when Sidony picks up those books herself. What if Sidony judges her for it? What if she finds Cassandra immoral for liking these things? What if she's so put off she breaks up with Cassandra?

Which of course does not happen. Cassandra is so relieved. And, it's honestly so freeing, so lightening, to have someone so important to her see a part of herself she's felt she's had to hide — and to have her not only see it but actively seek it out — and be completely accepting. Enthusiastically so.

@wepthonor

WOW look at that icon. Definitely a marble man sitting and not a crow skull. For sure.

I like so much about you. I like that you're a sweetheart. I like that you have done what is always my favorite thing in the world - taking a canon character that had potential that was then thrown away and making them your own. The Hulwen spin is fucking clutch. I also knew that man wasn't straight since reading The Masked Empire. A straight man being the most trusted champion of a lesbian? Nah

I like that you don't block me for sending you shit like "HON HON HON BAGUETTE". I like that you plot with me and say nice shit to me whenever I feel a little sad, which has been kinda often lately.

approval + (prompt) // not accepting // @wepthonor @weptduty

   "Will you leave me also, Landalen?"

Do you think me a heartless monster too? she asks though the words take form in all other ways except in her voice. Light eyes look beyond the murals that would be destroyed in the morning. A mother in mourning, she knows this is one of the things she cannot stop. To allow or show any more sympathy or favouritism would be to paint herself into a corner.

Perhaps she was already in one; and perhaps the bars that kept her in place simply resembled the halls shed walked too closely. Her attention moves from her champion to look upon once more to the Wolf's murals. The fingers that had brought a symphony to the world touch the golden mosaic and it feels cold - she had once shown him how the cliffs fell under the weight of the sea, how the wind fluttered the leaves of trees. How warm the sunlight felt atop skin.

How could he leave her now? Now that they needed to be strong more than ever. How could he turn his back to the work they had all done, after all that they had done? After all they had sacrificed?

   "When I was young and the world was still to be made," she starts and the gold beneath her finger dulls, from beneath the wall a deep green starts to crawl, cracking stone. Taking a step back, she hears the breaking of her heart just as easily as a earthquake would make itself heard "I never thought that I could feel such sorrow and not be made undone by it."

It was such a wonderful thing, to know that your form was immutable and that despite devastation that all might fall apart but you should remain. Changed for there was no living without change. Cruel and unwavering change would come with the strength of a river, the roaring of the wind in a storm. You could surrender to it, rise after it takes you to the destination it wishes. Or you could struggle and drown.

   "How wonderful it is," her long fingers press against the falling tears over star filled eyes and long dark lashes. The tears are pushed them into the valleys that make out the wrinkles upon her flesh. The shine left behind is one made by real tears upon real skin "to be woven of flesh and bone."

positivity? in this economy??

pal i have been admiring your writing from the moment i fell over to this little section of fandom you’re doing incredible work out here with these characters and i cannot WAIT to write with you

Send one for party banter from... @aestuum // Inbox Open!!

( I love her so much // always accepting ) CAITRIONA [ @wepthonor ] WROTE: caitriona scuffs her toe against the ground, watching a pebble—fade pebble? magic pebble? weird glowing pebble?—skip off the road and into the empty air with all the other floating bits and pieces of landscape. that gives her an idea. "do you ever throw rocks at the smaller rocks floating around? can you get them to move around? have you ever played a game where you try and hit them into each other? sometimes my papa and i will play a game where we push these small weighted discs across the table, and hit each other's off, to see who can get the most points. have you ever done that? with the floating rocks?"

THE KID OUGHTA CONSIDER A career in pearl diving. She clearly didn't need to breathe as much as the average person. Vauquelin kept his eyes roaming and feet steady moving as she exhausted her line of questions. Not ignoring her — though it may have seemed that way — but keeping himself on alert. The Crossroads could be tricky at the best of times; with the Evanuris slowly infecting them, they'd become downright treacherous. But, one ear stayed twisted toward her all the while, picking up every word she said.

❝Yes, yes, yes, and sort of.❞ The path before them had fractured millennia ago, and the rest of the road floated a few feet above their heads. He delivered his reply as he hopped to grasp the edge and haul himself up. Then he crouched and extended a hand to help her do the same.

❝The rocks're good target practice, but the hard part isn't hitting 'em. It's knowing what you're hitting.❞ He didn't bother to help her stand once she was up. She was more than capable of that. Though he did at least wait to keep moving til she was on her feet. ❝Rocks're never just rocks 'round here. You hit one and it explodes like gaatlok. Hit another and it starts whistling. Sometimes the rock you're hitting ain't even a rock. Spirits change their faces like you change shirts.❞

MARASENNA + 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅 // @wepthonor @weptduty // accepting

They were growing bolder. These beings that Mythal had brought and given form; these faithful made him think that any edge the All Mother had had once was now transferring to her Faithful, leaving herself exposed and toothless. Surrounded by wolves and yet completely unaware as she continued to grow her forest.

There had been a time when these specks would not have dared speak to him, with their tongue or otherwise, they would have had their sighs bowed for you did not stare at the Sun with unshielded eyes. And now there stood one of Mythal's champion, having climbed the mountain and thinking themselves worthy. Perhaps they spent too long in her presence, growing comfortable that she was just like them. And perhaps she nurtured that too, it was in part what had kept her control over her Faithful.

They loved her. And yet forgot themselves, forgetting to think how their actions and words reflected on her.

Elgar'nan turns and they both stand alone as he made her way towards where the Goddess rested. The Eyes of the All Father as bright as the earliest sun, rays in the early morning. Beneath these halls, he stood like the light reflected atop a still body of water. Blinding. And hiding the depths beneath.

   You start and finish with the All Mother.

He does not use his throat to speak; the air around them twists and screams as his eyes narrow over the champion. The sentinel forgot his place, but He did not. Mythal might want to keep them close to her heart, close enough that they might stab her but Elgar'nan was not like them. The thought repulsed him and the walls around them reflected such, the white marble now washed from the light pouring from the All-Father, there is no darkness in the room except the one pouring from himself.