#(-ranting about plans to abandon creation-)

[godzexperiment]

fallen! angel nix menacing his maker is actually -chefs kiss- like 'i might be stuck listening to your nonsense but you're stuck knowing you made me and being painfully aware of my chaos'

[literallybyronic]

disorganized DA lore rant beneath the cut:

*puts on my tinfoil hat* so hear me out-

True Elvhen are a symbiotic race that in their natural state are both Elf and Spirit combined.

Morrigan's ritual is an adaptation of a process that would normally be used to invite a willing spirit into an unborn child- perhaps a spirit that is the reflection of the parents' love or values they both hold dear. but this version forcibly impels the spirit into the fetus. the evanuris could also have discovered they could use lyrium to perform a similar kind of imprisonment, along with the vallaslin, to force many spirits into constructed bodies made from lyrium to act as a slave/work force. trapping them in corporeal forms and then branding them with spells so they could never escape. That's why "they made bodies from the Earth, and the Earth was afraid"- the Evanuris were strip mining Titan blood to create their slave armies en masse, and it was too much for the Titans to bear, hence the Titan war. The Evanuris used the Blight against the Titans, and the war threatened the whole world, but the Veil sundered the Titans from the Dwarves and put the Titans to sleep as well as what we know happened to the Elvhen. We know lyrium is basically condensed magic- what if the Titans need the Fade to "breathe" or absorb somehow, and their blood is that magic condensed, but when the Veil is put in place they lose consciousness, almost like blacking out from lack of oxygen?

The Blight is Andruil's "weapon from the Abyss"- but for all we know the Abyss could be "my gf Ghilly's creepy ass underground laboratory where she makes fucked up creatures" bc we definitely know those exist, and the Archdemons could be the Evanuris' physical forms sundered from their spirits, since we know there is a "shape of the Divine" that is winged/flying (and it sure seems like that big boy in the new trailer is Elgar'nan), and when they manage to regain some control over the physical form, they cause a Blight invasion bc mass death weakens the Veil that is imprisoning them. Potentially this is why we only have two Evanuris to deal with- the other Evanuris has their spirits stolen by the ritual and put into an unborn child. This would make sense with Andraste being born the year Dumat was slain, and why Mythal wants the Old God soul so badly. She may even have used this soul in Flemeth's body as a bait-and-switch with Solas, putting the true Mythal spirit through the Eluvian beforehand.

This is why Solas feels like the whole world is Tranquil- because to him, they are all missing half of themselves, not just bc they're not all mages. And why spirits are just as much people to him as mortals, because they are each one half of a whole. And the spirit is what made Elvhen immortal, it wasn't just "the Fade in general", but when the spirits were locked away along with the Fade, it all became impossible to continue as they had. or it's like the Trill, where the host body wasn't immortal, but the symbiotic spirit carries the essence of each person forward into the next life in a new body. That's why "he did not want a body, but she asked him to come"- Solas was a spirit who was convinced to be born as Elvhen by Mythal, and some part of him regrets that terribly, and that's why he feels about Cole the way he does. It would also explain why he gets so upset about the Grey Warden plan, bc to start with it's a perversion of what to him should be a rather sacred act of joining/creation, and they may be just accelerating the release of the two most dangerous Evanuris left. And that's why the village he claims as his home is what it is, because it really was his home, where he grew up after being born as Elvhen. If it were a cover story, why would he choose somewhere that's been abandoned for centuries, which would immediately be suspect? (if Leliana had done her damn job anyway🤬)

Of course there are many other little things here and there that feed into this- Fenris' lyrium tattoos, Sandal's whole deal, Mythal resorting to human hosts to survive the centuries, uthenera being something only Elvhen can do, the Sha-Brytol existing to protect the Titans from the "impure", basically everything from the Avvar religion and culture... And probably at least twenty other things i won't remember until after I post this. But damn I gotta get it out somewhere on the off chance that even a tiny bit of it is right 😅

...yes, the inside of my brain does look like Charlie's corkboard from IASIP right now, why do you ask?

[aloneinthehellfire]

saw my tumblr notification for your previous anon and OH MY FUCKING HELL I WOULD LOOOOOVE TO GET THE BATHROOM SCENE FROM STEVE’S POV 💖💖💖

I’ve already told you before that your writing is STELLAR and I know that no matter what you write, it’ll be absolute gold. *chef’s kiss* 🤌🏻

I have to say also that GOH is absolutely KILLING ME in the best ways. love love love the slow burn and the mystery behind what’s been happening in the latest chapters, aaaaa. :’) keep up the amazing work, my friend, and please make sure that you take breaks should you need them!! 💕

I got a lot of requests for this so I hope my anons find this one <3

RAINING HELLFIRE (READER'S VERSION)

Word Count: 3672

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of torture

Set in RH3: Chapter 12: Uncle Jack

Find all Raining Hellfire works here <3

Summary: While you try and find your previously abandoned radio in hopes of contacting help, Steve and Robin slip away from their cinema experience to end up in the bathroom, sharing truths about their lives they never admitted before.

[A/N: Welcome to our new little series I am calling 'Raining Hellfire (Reader's Version)' where you can request a scene that I either hadn't written into RH originally or a POV of a different character :) shout out to the nonnie that suggested this &lt;3]

RH3: STEVE'S EPIPHANY

“The ceiling stopped spinning for me.”

Robin’s voice echoed out as Steve flushes away his latest creation, stomach lurching while he wipes away the clinging spit.

“Is it still spinning for you?”

Steve rests his back against a ceramic tiled wall and tilts his head upwards. He focuses for a second.

“Holy shit.” He sounds, still feeling light-headed. “No. You think we puked it all up?”

“Maybe.” Robin says from the cubicle beside his. “Ask me something. Interrogate me.”

“Okay. Interrogate you, sure.” He tries to straighten himself a little, ignoring the dull pain in his face. “Um… When was the last time you, uh… peed your pants?”

“Today.” She responds quickly, voice airy.

“What?” Steve smirks.

“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.”

“Oh my god.” Steve chuckles and Robin laughs.

“It was just a little bit though.” She giggles and Steve shakes his head in amusement.

“Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.” He mutters, rubbing the eye that hadn’t been battered by Russian spies. Of course Dustin’s brilliant plan involved yet another concussion.

“All right, my turn.” Robin announces after her laughter died down, a smile in her voice.

“Okay, hit me.” His head was starting to throb and he was seriously missing his truth serum right about now.

“Have you… ever been in love?”

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” He says, not really putting much thought into the answer. He imitates a gun with his fingers and shoots at his heart.

“Oh my god.” He could practically hear Robin’s eye roll. “She’s such a priss.”

“Hm.” Steve nods, remembering a time when he thought the same. “Turns out, not really.”

“Are you still in love with Nancy?”

“No.”

A wave of shock struck him when he answered without a thought, reeling in his own response. Was he really over her?

“Why not?”

This time, his thoughts are swirling around like the ice-cream machine they rarely ever used, clouding his eyes with one image. One very specific image. And he smiles.

“I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He chuckles. “It’s crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, you know, you gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie...”

Steve blinks and the image reappears again. Dustin’s rant about Steve finding love had never left his mind.

“Uh, I guess I don’t totally know what I’m looking for.” Steve states, staring through the binoculars and being anything but covert. But Dustin could be on to something and he desperately needed a break from slinging ice-creams all day.

“Evil Russians.” Dustin replies simply and he roll his eyes.

“Yeah, exactly.” Steve nods, “I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like.”

“Tall. Blonde. Not smiling.” Dustin offers as Steve continues to navigate the binoculars. “Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.”

“Right, duffel bags.” Steve repeats. He takes another moment before letting out a breath. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?”

“Anna Jacobi’s talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky.” Steve complains, staring as she cosies up to the worst player he ever teamed with in his life.

“Dude, if you’re not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars.”

“Aw, Jesus Christ,” Steve continues, ignoring the boy next to him, “Whatever happened to standards? I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench.”

“Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” Dustin reaches out and snatches away the binoculars, resulting in a small fight as Steve struggled with the strap around his neck.

When Dustin won the binocular war, he places the binoculars in front of his eyes. “I don’t get why you’re looking at girls, anyway. You have the perfect one in front of you.”

“Seriously,” Steve sighs, already knowing where he’s going, “If you say Y/n again-”

“Y/n.” Dustin says anyway.

“No, don’t. No.”

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n.”

“Stop, no.”

“Y/n.” Dustin repeats over and over before throwing a curveball. “Robin?”

“No- Robin?” Steve raises his eyebrow. “Really?”

“Right.” Dustin nods. “‘Cause you like Y/n.”

“I don’t-” Steve takes a breath, noticing Dustin’s unimpressed look. “No, man, she’s not my type. She’s not even… in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?”

“What’s your type again?” Dustin asks with a side-eye. “Not awesome?”

“Thank you.” Steve sarcastically smiles, suddenly wondering where you were right now. You had said something about spending the day with Max and El, but that was all he had heard from you since last night. He remembered that smile you had given him before you drove off, a small wave as you promised to catch up on the ‘little Russian espionage’ later.

“Hm, right.” Dustin smirked and Steve looked back to him. “That lovesick face says it all.”

“I’m not-” Steve lets out a frustrated sigh. “She’s not my type, okay? Just friends.”

“Let’s see.” Dustin lowers the binoculars to count on his fingers. “Funny? Check. Smart? Check. Pretty? Double check.”

“Still in love with her ex? Check.” Steve says and Dustin’s face falls.

“What? No.” He pouts and Steve nods.

“Yeah, well. Good for him.” He looks ahead, trying not to think about how much that hurt him.

“At least you’re not in high school anymore.” Dustin shrugs and Steve looks at him.

“How has that got anything to do with anything?”

“Look, Steve.” Dustin gestures to the mall in front of them and Steve looks… confused. Dustin sighs. “There’s a whole world of girls out there. Instead of dating somebody you think’s gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around? Like me and Suzie.”

“Yeah, you mean, ‘hotter than Phoebe Cates’. Yeah, that Suzie.” Steve recalls with a snarky tone, “And, uh, let’s think about- how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend? Oh, yeah. With my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give you the advice, you follow through. Not the other way around, all right, pea-brain?”

“And how’s your advice working for you?” Dustin challenges, his eyes narrowing in his own amusement.

“Wait, who’s Suzie?” Robin asks and snaps him back into the moment. He blinks, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend.” He shakes his head, trying to push away the growing beating of his brain against his skull. “To be honest with you, I’m not 100% sure she’s even real.”

“But that’s not- that’s not really the point. The point is this girl, you know, the one that I like, it’s somebody that I… I lost touch with in school. And I don’t even know why.” Steve continues, sighing. “Maybe ‘cause Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me or… I wouldn’t be… prom king. It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should have been hanging out with this girl the whole time. First of all she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like ever since last November, I have laughed harder than I have laughed… in a really long time. And- and she’s the only person in this whole world I feel like will understand me, you know? Not judge me.”

“Really?” Robin chirps up with a smile in her voice. “Sounds like she loves being around you.”

“Yeah...” Steve’s face slowly falls.

Steve closes the space, resting his head against your forehead. His heart raced faster as he pushed aside his fear. “I love you, Y/n.”

When you don’t respond, he moves his body closer, lifting his head to search your face for something to give him hope. “Please, say something.”

Every second you didn’t react was agony. He could see the tear trickling down your cheek, his brows furrowing.

And then you reached out, placing your hands over his. That little jolt of electricity, the one that give him hope, the one that never failed.

Until now.

You gently unclasp his hand and take your keys, never raising your head, never meeting his eyes.

“I..” You start, lips squeezing together. “I don’t feel the same way about you. Never have. Never… never will.”

Steve feels his entire soul shatter into a thousand pieces.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you turn from him, getting in your car without so much as a second glance.

He’s stood there, paralysed in his own heartbreak. He thought… you and him…

How could he have been so stupid?

“Steve?” Robin calls out and he clears his throat.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He nods, rubbing his eye. “It’s just… I thought, you know, this girl was… everything. And…”

“And?”

“And she wasn’t even real.” He spoke, lowering his head. “I really should have taken Dustin’s advice. The kid knows zilch about love but… but he knows people better than I do sometimes. Told me Nancy was out of my league. Not in a bad way just, like…”

“Like you weren’t meant to be together?” She suggests and Steve hums.

“Yeah, exactly.” He laughs after a moment, “You ever… you ever had that?”

He rubs his face again, looking to the cubicle wall that separated them. She’s being quiet and he frowns, tapping on the plastic. “Robin? Robin, did you just OD in there?”

“No.” She finally says, sighing. “I… am still alive.”

“Did I say something wrong?” He asks and she lets out another sigh.

After another block of silence, he can’t take it anymore and scoots over to the wall, gripping onto the underside and pulling himself through, slow enough to avoid crashing into Robin on the other side. He decided it best to ignore how wet the floor felt on his back.

“The floor’s disgusting.” She comments as he sits back up, facing his friend.

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He waves his hands, brushing it away. “What do you think?”

“About?” She blinks, but he knows she’s aware.

“Destined to fail romances?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You ever had that with a guy before?”

“Something like that.” She says and he groans.

“Come on, you don’t have to be all mysterious.” He laughs, nudging her knee with his. “I can tell when you’re being weird, I’ve known you-”

“That’s it. You don’t.” She interrupts, brows knitted. When he frowns, she bites her lip and leans forward. “Look… you don’t really know me. And if you did, like – like really know me… I don’t think you’d even want to be my friend.”

“No, that’s not true, no way is that true-”

“Listen to me, Steve. It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you. But I’m not like your other friends.” She shakes her head. “I’m not even… I don’t…”

Steve leans forward, “What’s going on?”

“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?” Robin questions and he slowly nods. “It isn’t because I had a crush on you.”

He blinks, holding his breath. Now he felt really foolish for even thinking it.

“It’s because…” She continues, and he keeps his silence. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

“Mrs Click?” He frowns in confusion and she laughs, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Tammy Thompson.” She finally says, nodding. “I wanted her to look at me. But… she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And I watched you fall in love Freshman year with a girl you ended up treating like shit because you wanted to be a douchebag. And- And you didn’t even like Tammy Thompson and… and I would go home and just scream into my pillow.”

“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.” Steve shook his head, the drug still wavy in his brain.

“Steve.” Robin says softly and he slowly feels his face fall, realisation finally hitting him in a moment of clarity.

“Oh.” He finally sounds, blinking.

“Oh.” She repeats, laughing sadly.

“Holy shit.” He leans back. Talk about deja vu.

Steve didn’t realise how silent he was being. It wasn’t because of shock or hatred or anything like that. It was because he was taken back to Skull Rock all over again. Sat beside you. Your fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt, a scared look in your eye. The relief on your face when he said he didn’t care who you liked, just who you were. A happiness in your trust.

That shattered image when you found out he had taken that trust for granted.

He didn’t want it to be like that this time. No wrong words, no broken promises. He didn’t want to make anyone feel that destroyed ever again.

“Steve… did you OD over there?”

“No, I just, uh… just thinking.” He slowly nods, “I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but… I mean, she’s a total dud.”

“She is not.”

“Yes she is. She wants to be, like, a singer. She wants to move to, like, Nashville and shit.”

“She has dreams.” Robin tries but he’s shaking his head.

“She can’t even hold a tune.” He expresses, trying to think of a descriptor. “She’s practically tone-deaf. Have you heard her?”

As Robin laughs, he mimics Tammy’s voice in the school choir, making it as nasally as he could.

“She does not sound like that-”

“She sounds exactly like that. That’s a great impression of her.”

“You sound like a Muppet.” Robin comments and Steve laughs.

“She sounds like a Muppet. She sounds like a Muppet giving birth.” Steve chuckles and Robin can’t help but agree, giggling. “Literally ask anyone, ask Y/n, she was there. It was an hour of torture, like, even the Russians couldn’t beat that.”

“Okay, okay.” Robin clutches her stomach, shaking her head. “You’re right, okay? She sounds horrible.”

“Thank you.” He grins, head resting against the wall, “You could do so much better.”

“Like Y/n?”

Steve practically jolts, eyes wide. How did she know? Did he tell her? Was he rambling about it and didn’t realise? When did-

“Steve.” She smiles, tilting her head. “I know who ‘the girl’ is, I’m not dumb.”

He mentally lets out a sigh of relief before focusing on her comment. “It’s not… I don’t know.”

“God, you two are in love with eachother.” She scoffs, meeting his unconvinced eyes. “Seriously. It’s suffocating being around you two, it’s flirt city.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” Steve sighs.

“No shit, there’s no way I’m going back to work after that, they don’t pay me enough to be interrogated by secret-”

“No, Robin, I mean me and Y/n.” He says quickly and she stops, frowning. He sighs again. “It… there wasn’t…”

When he couldn’t find the words, Robin leaned forward.

“What happened between you two anyway?” Robin prompts and he furrows his brows, shaking his head.

“What-”

“Last night. Or… heck, I don’t know how long it’s been.” She shrugs. “When Y/n ran out. After that really intense moment of her talking about being taken advantage of – which I totally agree with her by the way- but... she was clearly upset about something. And you followed her. But when you came back…”

She takes a breath.

“You looked…”

“I looked?” He asks, stomach churning.

“Heart-broken.”

“I don’t feel the same way about you. Never have. Never… never will.”

“There.” She points at his face and he bats her finger away. “Right there. That look.”

He covers his face with a groan, resting his head in his hands.

“I mean… if there would be any time to open up to me, it would definitely be after I just told you I’m a lesbian.” She snickers and he can’t resist the laugh, “Don’t tell me… you’re also gay?”

“No.” He chuckles and she smiles, leaning back. “But I am definitely going to be alone for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t believe that.” She scrunches her face as if the thought was stupid. “You’re Steve Harrington. Any girl would be fantasising about spending their life with you.”

“Not the one that matters.” He admits quietly and she straightens, her eyes wide. Steve takes a breath. “When I caught up to her…”

“Please, say something.”

“… I…” He sighs, rubbing his face. “God, I am an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I told her I loved her.” He finally blurts, wincing at the silence that ensued.

“Woah.” She comments, nodding slowly. He simply nods with her, eyes fixed on the black mark staining the wall behind her. “And I’m guessing she didn’t…”

“No.” He purses his lips, sniffing. “It’s fine, though. At least I know now, right? Won’t be… won’t be wondering that for the rest of my life.”

“She lied.”

His head whips up. “Uh, what?”

“She lied.” Robin repeats, looking serious. “I may have only just met her at the beginning of summer, but I like to think I know her. I see how she looks at you. I can even hear it in her voice when she talks about you and… and there’s a reason she hasn’t been dating anyone.”

“Because she’s still hung up about Eddie.” He sighs and she whacks his knee. “Ow!”

“No, dingus! Because she’s hung up about you!” She exclaims, “God, you are both so oblivious, it actually hurts.”

Steve rubs his knee, shaking his head. “She still likes Eddie.”

“And yet, she chose you.” Robin expresses with her hands and he frowns.

“What do you mean she chose me?”

“Because of the-” Her face falls. Either she was going to puke again or she had just realised something important because her skin started to pale a shade. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“No, Robin, tell me.” He inches forward slightly, eyes wide. “Because of what?”

She bites her lips, obviously trying to hold something in.

“She told you something, didn’t she?” He interrogates, watching her face go paler from the strain of keeping a secret. “What didn’t she tell me? Robin. Robin!”

And with that, she snaps.

“You’re kinda maybe one of the reasons she and Eddie aren’t together anymore but it’s also not your fault ‘cause there was no trust between them in the end anyway, and she was never going to let your friendship die again especially since you guys apparently went through so much together last year and she’s already lost you twice because of some petty arguments or something like that so she decided to let Eddie go so she could keep you because out of everyone, you make her feel the happiest she has in a really long time.”

Robin takes a long breath as she physically deflates against the wall, chest rising heavily.

“If she ever asks… it took a lot more than that to get me to spill.” She grimaces, waiting for his reaction.

You had never told him why you and Eddie broke up. Not truly. He remembers the first time you told him, sat on a bench outside the high school, your eyes threatening tears. You told him that you think you broke Eddie’s heart, but you weren’t ready to talk then. Ever since, you just alluded to the idea that you weren’t right for eachother, that it was better for you both to be apart. Never did you admit it was because of Steve.

And now he was conflicted. How should he be feeling about this? Angry? Confused? Sad?

“How am I… the reason?” He asks softly, fixated on his shoelaces.

“I don’t know the full details.” Robin says, “But I know that she has to love you too.”

“Rob-”

“No, just listen.” She interrupts and he takes a breath, meeting her eyes. “Don’t give up. Considering all the weird shit that just happened back there, and the fact that neither of you seem at all phased by the fact we were tortured by Russians living underneath us, I can only assume that she had a lot going on. Give her time, okay? Take it from someone who has an exceptionally sad life of watching other people fall in love, you two are made for eachother.”

“Right.” Steve nods before shaking his head again. “What if she meant it? That she didn’t… what if-”

Robin lets out a groan. “Just stop being a dingus and take my advice.”

“Not sure how I feel about taking advice from someone who had a crush on Tammy Thompson.” He retorts and she looks offended.

“Wha- hey!”

“We’ll be holding on forever!” Steve imitates Kermit the Frog and she buries her face in her hands, laughing.

The bathroom door bursts open and two kids walk in, one looking severely pissed at Steve.

“Okay, what the hell?!” Dustin frowns, hands on hips.

Steve draws his eyes back to Robin’s and they burst into laughter again, uncontrollably.

“It’s not funny!” Dustin stresses, only making them laugh harder. He shoots a glare at Steve before Erica steps forward.

“Y/n is missing!” She shouts and the two finally quit their giggling.

“What?” Steve chuckles, unsure if he heard her right.

“Y/n went looking for help about twenty minutes ago.” Dustin explains, and Steve’s heart races faster. “And she hasn’t come back.”

“So we better stop chit-chatting like little girls at a sleepover and get the hell out of here before the Russians find us.” Erica remarks, rolling her eyes when nobody moves. “Now.”

“Wait.” Steve scrambles to his feet, Robin slowly but surely following his action. “Y/n-where- where did she go?”

“Her radio.” Dustin sighs, pulling a face when Steve shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, we don’t have time to explain everything to you, she went out to get her radio but she hasn’t come back.”

“Let’s go, we’ll find her later.” Erica stresses, already opening the door and motioning for them to get out.

“I’m not leaving this mall without her.” Steve promises, wiping his lip and heading for the door, more determined than ever.

if you would like to request a new pov scene for the Raining Hellfire universe, please feel free to put it into my ask box and I'll get to it when I am available :)

[sketchedboba]

I get some people raise an eyebrow on how you write Bowser in this au but can I just say hes gotta be one of my favorite Bowsers out there!! ❤

Like no shade to other Bowsers but he's such an interesting and complex character to me I want to learn more about him in this au!

Like it's strange & interesting to me how he can neglect to raise his own imperfect creations yet be willing to take in other imperfect & abandoned koopalings, It makes me wonder about whether it was him being naive to parenthood in his younger years as well as seeing his own imperfections in them.

I actually like him doing poorly at being a parent the first time around but doing great with most of the next set of kids since these things do happen in life and it makes me want to know more about his relationships with not only his kids but their relationships with each other and how it effects everyone, like I'm curious about Bowser's mindset and what he regrets in his life and if he ever considers trying to mend broken family relationships with his older kids, I'm also very curious about how Luigi handles this info and if he calls him out on some things later on when he kinda has the right to do so as a queen and step parent

Im a huge fan but also super shy so sorry for this being anon but your story leaves me with questions and cravings for more it's so good and not just black & white keep up the great work!❤

After reading all of this, thank you 💚

I don't dislike other Bowser interpretations (heck I envy how simple or even more complex others make his character). However thank you!

I've also shared a few times that just because I've written a morally grey or black character, doesn't mean they're terrible overall or stay that way. It gets frustrating having to explain this over and over again especially when the version in my au gets compared to someone's personal version of him or another au. I have nothing against either.

Anygays, what a rant- moving on 😭

I'll reveal more on the Koopa Kids in the next post and I'm excited to share more of their personalities. 🎉 Surprise 🎉 they were the ones the new animatic is going to be about. It'll flesh out their lives a bit more.

As for Luigi's response, there's a comic planned for the confrontation so I won't spoil much outside of that. Just know it gets pretty messy.

Also for anyone doing the math, yes, Bowser wanted an heir at the age of 16, he was royalty AND the only other large koopa species. Kamek is a nice father figure, but he wanted company he could tend to. He was also naive in thinking about how fatherhood worked and Kamek spoiled him, so no wasn't really an answer he would take.

I genuinely found canon Bowser's treatment of different types of the younger koopalings over the years interesting. He praises Junior a lot and most of the others are an after thought (just like how Nintendo treats them...)

I know 10 is a lot of children for him (I've been told this before), but he's 34 almost 35 in my au. He has most definitely will and has fucked up whether it be with his children or his relationships with others.

It's good to know that there are people invested in the au though and don't worry about being anon 😌 I appreciate the support n luv ♥️

Here are these two goofs eating spaghetti. 🧡

[cryptozoolliegy]

The crimes of the headspace sillies

all of my headspace sillies are in the wrong but they all have justifications and I wanna rant about em now so GATHER AROUND FOLLOWERS

Carly

Carly and Finn were friends for a really long time. Finn showed up LONG after Carly, but they didn't think anything of it- they considered themselves equals and worked together because Finn's... Tendencies... Didn't show up until a couple years after he appeared, and when he showed them, it was REALLY alarming to Carly. Like, "has my friend been possessed by a demon, I know we're gods but are there demons that can possess us?" alarming. Of course, this caused her great distress. She panicked about the possibility that her friend could've been replaced by something bad, and when she accepted the fact that he was still him but he'd changed and was now causing harm to her creations, she was scared. So of course she locked him in the basement! How else was she supposed to stop him? She couldn't think of anything else. Even when Finn was still locked in the basement, she came down and talked to him. Even when he didn't want to, she'd still try. She wasn't heartless. Her decision to isekai herself without telling Finn? She trusted him to understand and not interfere with her story (kinda an. Overestimation but we'll talk about that later.). She didn't even tell Benji what she thought of Finn. She didn't want him to have a bias against him.

Carly had her reasons. But what about

Benji's:

Benji spawned in and was immediately told to be nice to the characters. The first person he ever met told him to keep them safe and trust her words. Carly didn't tell him about Finn, but she sure as fuck told Benji to be his antithesis. Benji trusted her. So when Finn said "Carly was a bitch who didn't like me because she thought I was bad", he immediately took Finn to be a little bit untrustworthy. This is why he didn't let Finn near the control panel for very long at first. And when he saw what Finn did, it made him physically hurt. The day he saw Finn doing angsty stuff with the characters, he started planning to lock him in the basement, taking out everything Finn could possibly use to escape, unknowingly laying the groundwork for his own imprisonment. He was %100 gonna do it if Finn hadn't first. I'm not saying he had it coming, but.... Well, he did. But he was, unfortunately, a little bit justified.

Finn

Finn, Finn, Finn. He had the most justification out of all of them. Imagine that one day you're doing something you've done every day for years, but you do it differently. And suddenly, just for doing the thing differently, people think you're dangerous. So you resolve to do the thing normally the next day.

But you find that you can't.

You've forgotten how.

You try desperately to do it like normal, but the way you're doing it now suddenly feels more normal, more natural, and you can't stop. You can't quite tell what's wrong about it, either, so you just give in and do it in the new normal way. You apologize profusely, but you can't stop doing it. It's all you know.

And then someone throws you in jail for doing it.

They won't let you do the thing, and you start slipping. You rely on the thing. You need it.

Then they, maybe without knowing it, taunt you by showing you how free they are, how normal they are. And maybe it isn't intentional, but you grow to hate them nonetheless. Even if they are the only one who will interact with you.

Then they abandon you without telling you they're going anywhere, and that scares you for reasons you can't comprehend.

Then someone rescues you!

Good, right?

No.

You try to go back to doing the thing, but they won't let you.

And when you finally do the thing again, they have the same reaction as the person who threw you in jail. And you see signs of them preparing to do it again the next day.

Wouldn't you snap?

Of course you would.

It's only natural that you'd lock them up before you could be isolated again.

It's only natural that you'd go overboard when you could finally do the thing you loved again.......

Thanks for listening to this mess lol

@littlebookworm69 tagging u because i think you'll like it

[kinshenewa]

I'm going to do a little lore rant about something I made. Arcade Land is a thing I have had existing for such a long time, and my favorite character from my creation is Helpful Hare. I love how he's evolved, and I adore him.

He is the kind of sweet that will give diabetus, yet also can hold dark aspects. He is manipulative, but not like how most are. While most manipulative men would say, "You are lucky to have me! Without me, you would be nothing! You are mine, and you will do as I say!" He's the kind of dude to say, "I am so lucky to have you. Without you, my days would be so dull and bland. Oh how happy I am to have earned your heart, and claimed you. You are MINE, and I don't plan on sharing your heart or your body, anytime soon!" He's just a silly little goober that I can't help but giggle about.

None of the animatronics can ever do things to someone if that person don't want things to happen. Animatronics can't kill without reason, or cause harm without a reason, and certainly can't touch inappropriately without that person agreeing. Arcade Land also offers Sex Ed classes, with the average age being 15 for most students, and 15 is the absolute youngest that animatronics can possible even idly wonder about the topic.

The amount of safety protocols in place is insane, since Ludwig (creator of O'Hare Inc and Arcade Land) wanted his animatronics to be better than Fazbear Entertainment's (who exists in the same universe and inspired Ludwig in the first place). The safety protocols are like 'morals' for the animatronics. There was once a project to try and make balloon based animatronics, but that flopped after a year, since the safety protocols took up a lot of their memory, and they were disobedient and disrespectful.

Balloonics can still be found in basements 3 and 4, though no one really cares about them anymore. Only a few are active at a time, and a few get destroyed each year. After the place is abandoned, almost all of the balloonics are activated, but usually spend time in their cubbies charging. The only balloonic that is on year round is Drake, him being a prototype balloonic. He is different because he has the exoskeleton of a Performer but is hollow inside. He can't float like other balloonics, but he is intelligent, unlike other balloonics. He is a tad arrogant, but hey, he's one of a kind and the smartest balloonic in Earth, of course he would be smug.

Basement 3 was supposed to be a waterpark, but the plans showed that was a bad idea, so it was made into an employee only area. There is a pool, though that is farther back into the forest that neighbors Arcade Land, and has a skylight that connects it to the above world. The pool of full of anigoo, sometimes called animatar, which is a byproduct created from when animatronics digest things in their artificial stomachs for fuel. Many animatronics like to take mini vacations there, where they have little martinis and animatronics that give massages. That is usually where animatronics will spend their time when they need to use their mandated unpaid vacation time.

Animatronics work around 46 weeks a year, the daytime animatronics working around 80 hour workweeks. They can't get tired since they are made of metal and wires and rubber, and don't spend all of working hours working. They take paid breaks, and eat when needed. Sometimes, they spend a lot of time in their rooms, usually making sure they look their best. The animatronics who have fur spend around 2 hours each day freshening up their fur and cleaning it out of anything that could get stuck, like gum or soda.

More to come soon.

[queenhellwitch]

I'm so sick of writing this essay every day.

It WAS out of character, but it was written, so you have to find Sam's truth in it, as Jared once said. Everyone goes straight to, "well, Dean was ANGRY that Sam didn't look for him, so Sam was WRONG TO CHOOSE TO DO THAT." Do we honestly think that Sam stood there in that lab, wide-eyed and hyperventilating in front of Crowley and his taunting, thinking "Well damn, Dean's gone, I'm going to CHOOSE not to look for him." Not being facetious, because he might've done (it is, after all, the rational choice considering all the harm to creation they've caused as a team (and that's also kind of the truth Sam offers to Dean, when he later tries and fails to explain it to him).

So *was* it a conscious plan to offhandedly abandon his brother? I think not. Because we're shown throughout the seasons that Sam is usually such an analytical, practical person, and insanely single-minded and vengeful when it comes to saving Dean - even in the direst of straits, Sammy keeps his head; hits the lore, solves the problem. In character, he would've found out he was in Purgatory, he would've summoned Death and begged him for another random eclipse (another of which, by the way, had already been outright refused).

So why does nobody ever offer Sam grace and consider *why was he out of character?* It's because he was reeling. He'd lost everyone he'd ever loved, he was still absolutely swamped by guilt, head swimming with Hell trauma that had nearly killed him. He was running on fumes already at the end of season 7. He had no Bunker at that point, no comfort, no Bobby anymore. The angels were d1cks. No demons would make a deal. All he had left, and all he could do, was go back to the car. "I fixed up the Impala, and I drove." The scenes where he hit the dog, he was absolutely frantic. Reminded again how much pain and destruction he causes. Amelia was a lifeline, an (unhappy imo) accident - she just happened. He wasn't chasing happiness, or a normal life at that point. Just running.

So thoughts of Dean, the Life, Kevin, everything unfinished would come back and poke at his brain... At that point, do you stay hiding, buried, living in a motel, clinging to someone who makes you a birthday cake, fixing sinks, not being traumatised, abandoned, hospitalised, killed? Or do you give yourself an shake and say "c'mon Sam, stand up and find your brother, have the audacity to insert yourself back into a world where your *very existence* killed him, made his life hell, made his death literal hell, killed your own mother, father, the love of your life, millions of others, caused apocalypse, destroyed Kevin's life, got *his* girlfriend killed...

He, of course, can't say all that to Dean. How can he?

"we promised we weren't going to look for each other" - it's easier - prove it was a rational choice. "I met a girl and decided not to hunt anymore" - ok, Dean will be angry, but Dean's anger is usual, normal, and easier to deal with than facing Dean's disappointment in Sam's unravelling.

I might be overanalysing and giving him too much credit. But he deserves it and this is a Sam-positive post. And if you watch the scene with Cas and Sam in the cartoon world in Hunteri Heroici, you can *see* it. His ranting at Fred about living in a dream world isn't about Fred. It's all about his own anger at himself, taking on board yet more guilt, because he can never do anything right. He's more than out of character. He's an absolute mess.

[pedrospascaled]

Maggie Rhee Rant

Okay, so I’m going to do a bit of a rant on the character of Maggie for The Walking Dead. There are episode 3 spoilers in this, so please don’t click the read more option if spoilers bother you or if it is going to upset you hearing someone’s opinion on the character. 

The first thing I want to talk about is the fandom. It really irritates me when you are talking about why you dislike Maggie and the first thing people do is they scream “misogynist!” – I like a lot of the characters on The Walking Dead that are female. There are so many good characters on The Walking Dead in fact. Michonne, Carol, Lydia, Princess, Yumiko, Judith, etc. I just don’t find Maggie very likable so when people scream misogynist when someone doesn’t like Maggie and they say that it is completely irrational for people to dislike her. That’s silly and ridiculous.

The next line that I’m sick of seeing is, “You only hate her because you like Negan” … no, I’ve never liked the character of Maggie. Even before the creation of Negan. I’ve always disliked her character. Stop trying to invalidate someone’s opinion just because they don’t agree with you. You don’t have to attack someone’s character just because they don’t like a character you do or vice versa.

Now onto the comments about Maggie this season....

Maggie abandoned Alexandria. The girl wanted nothing to do with them, until she needed something. Yet, when she arrives back into Alexandria, she expects to be in the leading role and wants these people to bend over backwards for her. Not only that, she brought he wrath of The Reapers onto these people. I understand people will defend “Well that’s her family…” it’s still screwed up.

Now onto their little journey to get food from Meridian. It was a horrible plan. So many people said it was a suicide mission. She brings Negan to “lead” them through the city. Negan tells her what the best option is MULTIPLE times to keep the people safe and because she hates him, she ignores him. I’m not someone that thinks Maggie should ever forgive Negan. It makes sense why she hates him. BUT HER HATRED IS GETTING PEOPLE KILLED. Instead of listening to Negan, she decides to do her own thing which leads to disaster after disaster. She was leading people to their deaths.

Maggie gets mad at Negan for leaving her (even though she just threatened to kill him five minutes earlier), but then decides it is okay to leave a teenager behind because they are a ‘liability’. Maggie. The boy was fucking scared. There was room to save him! You can’t convince me otherwise. They could have opened the door, pulled him in and closed the door. If that would have been her son who did the same thing, she would have risked everything to save him. It’s a sad day when even Negan was attempting to save Gage, but she let him die. First example of Maggie the hypocrite.

Maggie leads the group RIGHT into the hands of The Reapers, getting her entire group killed and also some of those in Alexandria. She was warned her plan was shit. She was told it was a suicide mission. Negan gave options to make it less dangerous, she ignored him and look where it led her.

This whole event was HER FAULT. The reapers marked her. She knew they were dangerous. She knew that things were bad. Yet, she still took this group right into the center of it all. Yet she has the audacity to tell Negan this is his fault. That he caused this. Maggie! I know it’s hard to blame yourself because let’s be honest (she never has) but you are the reason your friends are dead. It was your fault. It was your shit plan! Not Negan’s.

Then she goes and lectures Negan about how he doesn’t have the right to choose who lives and who dies because he’s awful blah blah blah! Okay. We just watched this girl let a teenager die. She GETS to pick who lives and who dies, yet she is going to lecture the one person who is trying to help her. God, this woman gets on my nerves so much because she is such a hypocrite.

Blaming Negan for everything going to shit? Yeah, Negan did shitty things, but Maggie you have too and you continued to make stupid decisions. This shit is a hundred percent her fault and listening to her go off about how it’s Negan’s fault when the people of Alexandria are still alive because of Negan irritates the hell out of me.

I like Negan because I’m a fan of morally gray characters where they can be both good and bad. But with Maggie, I have never been a fan of her hypocrisy. Is she a bad ass? Sure. Lauren is also a fucking fantastic actress, but overall, Maggie is very unlikable in my opinion and she is awful. Listening to her lecture Negan about her own faults is making me hate the character more. She can’t even blame herself for her own faults and that makes her character twice as frustrating.

Even on The Talking Dead when Josh called out Maggie on being a liability, he was right. She is. Her character is making shit decisions and it’s obvious. 

I also want to add how she told Negan that it was impossible for him to change. Yet, it’s acceptable for her to change and it’s okay that she became dark? It just brings us back to that whole hypocrite thing. 

[stealing-jasons-job]

Dear fanfic readers...

I want to start this by saying I love you all. Seriously. I honestly wouldn’t still be writing fanfic if you guys didn’t exist. And I think that’s probably true of a lot of writers. We thrive on readers enjoying our work, leaving kudos/comments, reblogging, sharing with friends, etc. And 99% of people who read/comment don’t fall into this category. 

But I have to address something. Er, I have to address a few somethings. Tonight, one of my dear friends received a nasty comment on one of their fics. It was, frankly, a mean rant disagreeing about the choices said writer made in the chapter update. But what really struck me was what they said at the end of the comment—that they admire the author’s work and that they are excited about future chapters. Which to me, meant that they meant their comment as a constructive criticism rather than to be purposefully hateful. 

Which leads me to my first “something”: 

Long comments about things you personally disagree with in a story is not constructive criticism. 

I say this as someone who gives actual constructive criticism to writers for a living. Calling someone’s work horrible or hollow or misguided or flat or [insert long list of other adjectives I’ve seen non-writers call someone’s work] isn’t constructive criticism. It’s not constructive. It’s just mean. 

Moreover, constructive criticism has to be founded on mutual trust. If you’re commenting on ao3 or Tumblr or Twitter on someone’s work who did not ask you specifically for constructive criticism, that trust isn’t there. 

You’re welcome to your opinions about someone’s story or work. But you are not welcome to share those negative opinions when you don’t have consent. Even when you DO have consent, that constructive criticism needs to be well-structured to include real reasons why something isn’t working in a story (”I don’t personally agree with this choice” is not an example of a real reason) and ways to improve. That respect is the very least a writer deserves when someone is asked (notice how I bolded asked, bc it’s fucking important) to give feedback on work that they spent time and effort on.  Which leads me to my next “something”: 

Fanfic is provided for free, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cost something. 

I saw a post on here recently (linked here) that talked about how fanfic is provided at no cost to the reader, but that doesn’t mean it’s “free” for the writer. And this is something I think some non-writers don’t quite understand. 

Writing a story—whether it be based on characters from a TV show like this fic or based on original characters of your own creation—is a lot of fucking work. It takes hours of your time and so much mental energy. There's the planning and the plotting and the actual writing and the editing and the working up the nerve to post it so that others can see it and hopefully like it. And all of that labor, all of that emotional/mental/physical labor is done for free. So that the stories in our heads and hearts can exist and so that readers can enjoy them.

EVERY choice is thought out. Every. Single. One. Every conversation is considered, every dialogue tag is placed with intention, every choice the character makes is one we make first. And do we always agree with the choices our characters make? Do these choices always perfectly mirror what would likely happen in real life or even if another write were to have written the story? No, not always. But damn if we didn't have a reason for letting them make them regardless. Every facet of a story is considered—especially for longer fics. 

So hours of work and a mountain of emotional, mental, and physical energy is put into a fic. Writers open up a door for readers to see into our minds and hearts and souls for these stories. And the very least readers can do is tell us when those stories resonates, and be kind and respectful regardless of if it resonates or not. Deciding to shit on a story because you don't personally agree with the direction the story is headed? That's heartbreaking. And irritating. And frankly unmotivating. 

Which brings me to my final “something” of this post: 

Negativity and indifference are killing Fandom. 

We’ve all seen how Fandom (and I’m not just talking about one specific fandom, I’m talking about capital-F Fandom as a whole) has gone downhill in recent years. There’s less engagement with works, less discussion happening between readers/creators/writers/casual viewers of a fandom, and more writers/creators leaving Fandom behind. 

That’s mostly because of negativity and indifference.  There are a lot of posts about how people (and I include myself in this because I really need to do better, and I’ve been trying) need to make a mindful effort to comment on fics you like, kudos fics you like, reblog, retweet, converse with your favorite writers/creators, etc. So I won’t harp on that again here. 

But negativity is another culprit here. Putting a fic or a piece of art out into the world is terrifying. More terrifying to some than others, but there are nerves and anxieties that go into it no matter who you are. And unlike paid authors publishing books or showrunners air tv shows, the only thing we get in return are the kudos/comments/reblogs/retweets from readers. That’s it. So when we put hours of time and effort and those little pieces of our soul into works only to be met with indifference or hateful comments (even when they are misguided attempts at constructive criticism), it makes the benefit of all that work less and less appealing. 

I’ve seen too many writers abandon works and leave fandoms (including t100 fandom, specifically the bellarke fandom) because of this. And I hate it. We have too many talented writers and creators for that. Moreover, the world needs those talented writers and creators to keep making things they love for it to keep spinning (a topic for another long Tumblr post). 

So how can Fandom be a better place for writers/creators? 

First thing’s first, participate. See a piece of art you loved? Reblog it. Read a fic you adored? Comment something to that effect. Find authors or creators you admire? Reach out to say hey! Or just hit the follow button and interact with posts if you’d rather not say hi. We appreciate all of it and love you immensely for it. 

But the kicker once you start participating is doing it mindfully. Think about what you’re commenting and whether it’s helpful or harmful. A long string of emojis bc you can’t put how much you loved a fic into words? We love to see it. Novel-length tags in your reblogs about your favorite lines? Will probably make our day. DMs or asks about upcoming chapters or fic ideas? We’ll scream our joy and talk your ear off. 

A rant about how you thought the characterization of Bellamy in this fic was off? That’s not helpful if the writer didn’t ask you specifically for that kind of feedback. And hateful comments about how a fic needs to be updated sooner or how a certain update didn’t mean your qualifications for how you personally wanted a story to continue? Definitely not helpful (and a honestly a dick move). 

I have no qualms about speaking on behalf of all fanfic writers when I say that we LOVE every single person who reads our shit. We thrive on people reading our stories and then telling us and their followers how much they loved it. No (kind) comment goes unnoticed or unappreciated. 

So please, please, please spread kindness whenever you can to writers and creators. <3 

All my love, 

A fanfic writer who is terrified that negativity is going to drive all my fandom friends away, and who might get carpal tunnel if I have to write another novel-length rebuttal to someone being an ass on AO3 to one of my friends

[bjornsonbrightman]

A (not-so-brief) list and analysis of the things that were changed in the set design of Phantom London, part 1

[*includes things that were changed in between the release of the infamous Planning Document™ and opening night!*]

WARNING: long, image-heavy post

The past week has undoubtedly been very confusing and anxiety-inducing for a lot of phans, I myself included, who were (and are) still horrified of what C*mM*ck has done to Phantom London.

So naturally, as someone who lives somewhere that couldn't be farther from the UK, I decided to compile a list of all the things that I've learned — through hours of shamelessly scrolling through Instagram, Twitter and Facebook tags — about the planning, creation and production of the new set design.

Hang on tight, it's a bumpy ride.

1. The proscenium

The most obvious thing that is now different from the OG. Let's take a look at the concept art shown in the original planning document:

Ahh, I remember the release of this picture and the Tumblr/Twitter/FB explosion that ensued like it was yesterday. Good times.

The new set design by Matt Kinley is mainly derived from what he did for the UK tour, which introduced the cracked, sculpture-less proscenium and the separate proscenium frame/boxes that appear only during the opera scenes. Unlike the greatly simplified UK tour design, however, this design for London appears to have the original lyres and garlands at the top, as well as some structural elements of the OG proscenium (see the outward curved trimmings on the top sides). The surrounding areas of the auditorium are also shown to be restored to their original colours, the most interesting of which is a new false wall in the area behind the top part of the proscenium. These areas were previously blacked out with black paint and black masking.

Despite hewing closer to the OG than the UK tour did, this was still a sacrilegious bastardization far cry from Maria Björnson's design, and I guess the creatives were aware of it too, as they seemed to try to soften the blow by:

using actual pieces of the original proscenium that weren't a part of the OG plan such as this satyr-riding angel...

including an "homage" to Maria (according to ALW) in the form of a new sculptural bust that fills up the Golden Angel's spot (picture from @mariussansmerci) ...

The design of the false wall behind the lyres on top was also changed to... something that I guess gives off the impression of a false dome?? Not too sure about this one but I kinda like it ngl:

Something that the planning document mentions is that the removal of the side sculptures and the installation of a "cracked" proscenium allows for sound equipment to be installed behind the sides of the proscenium, which frees up the two side boxes to be "used as originally intended". And that's exactly what happened. Surprise, C*mM*ck now has 4 extra seats that he can sell overpriced.

And here's the finished result (photos from here):

With the safety curtain that was brought over from the UK tour and without the inner proscenium/boxes:

To be honest? I kinda like the final result. Those (possibly face-saving) changes really saved the design from looking like a bad copy of the original proscenium; now it just looks like a mediocre copy. But don't worry, whenever I get too comfortable with this new design I just pull out pictures of Maria's OG proscenium and my fiery anger for the new one is reignited.

And that's all I have on the proscenium!

Next up we have something that I believe had the most confusing and troubled development out of all the new set pieces:

2. The Chandelier

Man, this poor thing has been through a lot.

When it was originally designed for the UK tour, the chandelier was intended to utilize much of the same technology that the r*staged tour chandelier used, namely the drapes that are "magically" sucked into the chandelier itself and the straight-dropping mechanism. Hence, the new chandelier was made to be circular and non-collapsible, featuring a decorative spike on the bottom. According to pictures of the model and the concept art shown in the planning document, I suspect the drapes were to be sucked in through the decorative lyres (see the circular openings):

But this mechanism was precisely the reason for the downfall of this design. Come opening night of the UK tour, and this chandelier was nowhere to be seen. My suspicion of what went wrong? Either the drapes were snagging on the lyres (kind of like what happened to the short-lived garlands on R*staged Tour Chandelier), or the retractable frame that held up the drapes wasn't working properly.

But whatever the reason for the failure of this mashup chandelier, the designers must've realized and abandoned ship pretty late, because pictures from one of the prop makers showed that it was still being made with frames that were very much non-collapsible as late as February this year:

Once they realized it wasn't going to work, I believe a series of last-minute actions were made. My theory: they brought back the OG chandelier in all its missing-bulbs glory less than a week away from opening...

... and stripped it of its lyres, which were transplanted onto the new chandelier, as is evident from the final product (photo from @soulsoaringphan):

This hypothesis is bolstered by the fact that the new lyres were originally going to have holes in them for drape-sucking (ew), and so once the decision was made to have the chandelier work more like the OG, the logical step would have been to just borrow the lyres from the old one instead of making new ones in less than a week or two from opening.

Also note the gaps in the beading that would've had the rigid golden frame trimmings seen in the model and the in-progress photos above; the designers must have removed them hastily to allow the chandelier to collapse, but unfortunately they just... left it empty. Oh, and the absence of the spike on the bottom, which is now just a huge gaping hole (again, ew). There's also an additional tier on top that wasn't present in the OG, model or any of the concept art.

I'm actually quite relieved that the new chandelier is pretty similar to the OG and the Palais Garnier one, but if I have to nitpick: I miss the horizontal decorative beading, the ones that were on the top tier and in between the lyres in the old chandelier. Maybe it's just me, but the chandelier looks... incomplete without them.

And that's all I have on the chandelier!

3. The Orchestra Pit — wait, I can't upload any more pictures??

Welp, guess I'll have to make a part 2 then. Thanks for reading this long, long rant post, I hope it was at the very least entertaining and slightly informative!

And lemme know if I forgot to credit anyone whose pictures I used!

[schmergo]

People really need to try and, like, READ a book before they try to correct people about it.

Once again, a silly tumblr post I wrote about Frankenstein (the one about calling Frankenstein's creation 'Frankenstein's lil boi') has made its way to a popular facebook page and everyone is coming out of the woodwork trying to sound smart, but I am concerned a lot of them are actually posting from a parallel universe or something because they... are saying some silly stuff.

First of all, my BIGGEST pet peeve, is people smugly saying that actually his name is Adam. I counted and 6 people independently asserted this. And in response to one of the comments, people said things like, "It's the name he chose for himself 😭" and "Adam is the name he gives to the blind people he lives with. His name is Adam." 

WHAT THE HECKAROO, GUYS? The creation is simply going through a bit of a Milton fanboy phase. He reads 'Paradise Lost' while secretly observing and learning from a blind man and his family (not a whole blind family, mind you) and feels struck by identification to some of the characters.

I did a search in the virtual edition of Frankenstein and these are the instances when the name 'Adam' comes up:

"Like Adam, I was apparently united by no link to any other being in existence; but his state was far different from mine in every other respect. He had come forth from the hands of God a perfect creature, happy and prosperous, guarded by the especial care of his Creator; he was allowed to converse with and acquire knowledge from beings of a superior nature, but I was wretched, helpless, and alone. Many times I considered Satan as the fitter emblem of my condition, for often, like him, when I viewed the bliss of my protectors, the bitter gall of envy rose within me."

"Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."

"No Eve soothed my sorrows nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam’s supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me, and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him."

He's saying that he SHOULD have been like Adam, the first man created by God, but instead, due to Victor's rejection, he relates more to Satan, who was cast out of God's favor. How are people not getting that he's not literally naming himself Adam?

(Side note regarding commonly held literary tidbits that aren't the case in the original book-- a lot of people also confuse Paradise Lost with the Bible by saying that Satan is a fallen angel... the Bible never specifically says that. But that's a rant for another day!)

Other weird things people in the comments said:

"He killed a little girl and threw her in a lake!" 

What the heck? He saved a little girl from drowning in a river and her father thought he was trying to drown her and shot him instead. That was, like, the moment he realized no matter how much good he did, people would always think he was evil.

"He poisons a little boy!"

...No, he strangles his victims. It says there was a mark on the victims' necks. He just happened upon Frankenstein's little brother, got really mad, and strangled him-- he didn't have time to plan out an attack and make or obtain poison. Why would you poison someone if you were a super-strong giant?

Weirdest of all, someone said, "Not to mention the creature has a mental breakdown when Frankenstein dies from old age."

...What? Victor Frankenstein is a young man in the book-- in fact, he's in undergrad when he first makes the creature. He dies after trekking through the arctic for the creature. All of his sled dogs have died, he's endured exposure, exhaustion, mental strain, he's feverish and clearly unwell after being rescued and continues to pursue the creature. 

Also, fortunately nobody on the post said this, but people on tumblr have commented to say that the Creature was actually described as beautiful in the book. Uh... nope. If he was beautiful, why would people instinctively react to him with so much fear, disgust, and hatred? Victor Frankenstein DESIGNED him to be beautiful. He didn't do a great job of it. The text from the book says, "How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful! Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun-white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips."

SO BASICALLY, he picked the most beautiful features possible (from corpses), but unfortunately, when he animated the creature to life, he still looked... like a dead guy. He was so focused on each detail of what he was doing that he wasn't looking at the big picture of what he'd created until it came to life and still didn't look like a normal person. I know the paragraph is a little confusing, but he's listing the beautiful things about him, but then he says, "But unfortunately, despite having naturally good features, he was clearly a rotting decomposing corpse, but living and breathing and moving, and let me tell ya, that is DISTURBING." 

Anyway, to make a long story short, maybe read the actual book before you try to prove how smart you are on a silly Tumblr post about it? Or don't quote selective passages like 'I ought to be thy Adam' or 'I had selected his features as beautiful' without reading the surrounding sentences. Reading comprehension is important!

I know this may sound super pedantic, but all I did was make a silly joke without taking the book itself too seriously and everyone had to swoop in and 'well actually' me about the book, so yeah, I am going to 'well actually' right back at them.

[domesticated-feral]

Thank you @nacreousgore for tagging me, oh boy was this fun to do!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 52 works on AO3 as of writing this.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Since it's been a year that I've been writing on ao3, I've amassed a total word count of 149,243 words.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only 2 so far. I used to write Twenty One Pilots bandom fics before and now I just write Teen Wolf fics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

So, I have 4 Sterek fics and one Stackson fic in my top 5; they are:

Yellow for Happiness and Purple, Because of Stiles (YFHAPBOS) - a good old falling in love Sterek fic with blind!Stiles and synesthete!Derek

Intoxicating - Stackson oneshot which has smut and possible interpretively werewolf!Stiles

Lunch with Sticky Note Compliments - Sterek in an office AU. It's literally what it says on the box.

Happiness in Your Arms - an abandoned WIP that's for some reason still on my AO3. It's sterek and takes place in the early 1910's. (I do not recommend reading this fic of mine..)

Sterek One Shot #2 - the second tw fic that I ever wrote on ao3. Didn't even bother to give it a title cause I didn't know what to title it...hah. it's also the last first person pov fic that I wrote until I transitioned to mainly writing third and second person povs.

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

No doubt it's You Wish I Was Yours (And I Know That You're Mine) because of the overall dead dove: do not eat essence of the oneshot. After all, it's Void Stiles/Kanima-Werewolf Jackson who's under Void's manipulation.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

So, I have two contenders imo for this. Yellow for Happiness is one because the ending is cute, and the overall fic mood is happy if you average it out. Then there's To Fall For Him, which I recently wrote and the ending ends on a really happy note compared to the rest of the fic so the steady incline in fic mood makes it have one of the happiest endings. Although, most of my fics (expect for that void/kanima Jax fic) have happy endings. I'm all for leaving a fic on a bittersweet/good note y'know.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written?

I have yet to write a crossover, but I weirdly enough have a Five Nights At Freddy's x Teen Wolf crossover planned out in my Google docs. Don't know if it's ever going to see the light of ao3 or the internet.

8. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Since I started writing smut only recently, I have been experimenting with many different types of smut, mix and matching a lot of things. Most of them are made with love so ig it's the loving kind of smut, excluding that one void/kanima Jax fic (again).

9. Do you respond to comments, why, or why not?

I def respond to each and every one of the comments I receive. It's not much since I'm only a rookie fic writer but every single comment lights up my day whenever I get them and I hope my response lights up their day too :D

10. Have you received hate on a fic?

Nope, so far I haven't gotten any hate on any of my fics and hopefully that sticks for a long time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Not yet.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Unless talking to my sister about fic ideas and about how the story is playing out and ranting about plot holes to her is co-writing a fic, then no.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

My otps change periodically and I multi-ship like crazy so I don't have an 'all-time' favourite. But atm, the most mind-space-taking ships are Stackson, Scerek, Scydia, Stalia and Sciles. Sceo and Sterek sometimes show up.

15. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

One day, I aspire to have less than a 100 wips, but there's just a few select ones that I am not going to touch on ever again. Either out of sheer confusion of what the story is about or because I do not want to continue on them anymore. They are titled in my Google docs as;

• It's a Jacksciles fic now

• Smutty Sterek pls send help

• Look, when i find an angsty dialogue prompt and song (especially if it's by Panic! At The Disco) you know im defaulting to Stackson Second Person Smut + Angst mode in a heartbeat

• yeah, i have a specific trope i wish to write.

These are just some of them that either I rewrite completely or just not touch ever again.

16. What are your writing strengths?

The ability to write a lot in the spur of the moment. I can easily get into a writing mood if I'm not in a writing rut.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The ability to write only in the spur of the moment. My motivation comes in either 5 hour feasts or 30 minute scraps. (easily burn-out able)

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It is cool, and I'd love to give it a try. Sometimes I deeply want to include my native language in the fics that I write, but the thing is that it's not known widely across the Earth.

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Twenty One Pilots bandom!

20. What's your favourite fic you've written?

I cannot choose one from all my word vomit creations, but I had a lot of fun writing these.

Cinnamon Rolls & Intimate Control - Stackson smut with the added bonus of Stiles making Cinnamon Rolls.

My Heart Races Whenever I Look At You - Sceo, Street Racing Au, so very cute

The fics that I have so far written for the Finding Your Soulmate: Werewolf Edition series - Scerek for now, the fics have been a delight to write and so far, the story is just getting started.

And a honourable mention, Perceptions of Perfection - SCACKSON, what more should I say?

Tagging: @scilessweetheart @shyawkwardwriter @nutellarghh @sequinedmonkey

[nexstage]

All in the same place AU Toad version - Marcy POV

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

This wasn't what Marcy had expected when Anne had opened the box. A world of adventures as far away as it was possible from her parents' demands of submission to what she believed was the cruelest order of all: moving to another state and saying goodbye to her friends.

Technically, her wishes became true. She was in another world. Amphibia. And Anne and Sasha had landed with her. What she hadn't reflected on was if the place would be safe for them to explore because the book never specified which kind of world would be their destination. It just said the box had the power to send anyone to another realm.

Remembering how Sasha got hurt by fighting the toads and the terror coursing through her and Anne's veins squeezed her heart with guilt. None of this was supposed to happen. They were supposed to have fun and remain together forever, not become prisoners in a medieval tower administered by anthropomorphic toads.

What was worse was Sasha's new position as lieutenant of Grime. That meant any plans to escape from Toad Tower would be on indefinite hiatus if not canceled.

At least she hadn't become the captain's new friend. The toad's mercilessness froze her blood and no one dared to question his orders. Percy and Braddock, the only nice toads on the whole tower, had been telling her stories about Grime's old career as a warrior on the Coliseum of Newtopia, Amphibia's capital.

As impressed as she was by those tales, that was another reason to try to separate Sasha from that guy and look for a way back home. What would come after, Marcy didn't know or want to face it. Her friends believed the box was just a weird trinket from a shop, not a magical artifact. If she told them the truth, they would abandon her in a snap and pretend they never knew her.

All her planning to keep them together, lost in a sea of anger because of her lies of omission. But better braving those waters than being a forever servant of the toads. They needed a plan, a fool-proof plan, the three of them.

And the box... In their desperation to save Sasha, Anne and she has hastily hidden the thing under a poorly dug hole. What if another amphibian found it and sold it?

It would be over then. They'd be trapped here until death if Grime or any monster lurking in the wilderness surrounding the tower didn't kill them first. And it'd be all her fault!

Shaking her head, Marcy stored her worst fears and worries on a trunk of her mind. She would never get everyone out if she didn't focus. For now, she had to appear obedient. Harmless.

Thankfully, Percy and Braddock were good company as they listened attentively at the instructions of her board game Creatures & Caverns.

It was strange to have other people listening to her and asking questions with interest when others used to get bored or ignore her. Anne and Sasha tried to understand her likes and passions but sometimes they got lost in their own stuff which was a bit disheartening. But these two toads absorbed as much as they could and smiled whenever they put their own touches on the game like in the creation of the characters, and their sudden attention to one of her favorite stuff felt like praise.

"What on frog's name is the meaning of this?!"

Grime's shout broke the spell and the fun environment shattered.

"You should be making sure the prisoner is doing its job, not messing around with it!"

Marcy winced at the objectification of the pronoun but kept her mouth shut.

"Come on, captain. Marcy has cleaned the litters already." Braddock said.

"Yeah, can't we just take a little break? She was showing a game of her world filled with this stuff called lore, and fantasy beings, and strategy..." Grime ignored a big part of Percy's defense rant except for the last word. His eyes took on the mess on the table. There were sheets of paper, little figurines, a dense book, some dice, one of them with a weird shape. If the toad wasn't familiar with the maps and wooden little dummies used on war strategies, he would've thought all that stuff on the table was junk.

Perhaps he had underestimated Marcy's value a bit too much. He had a warrior on his side that was more capable and resilient than all of his soldiers together, another addition for the tower should be a sharp mind, creative and focused enough to solve any problem.

Maybe he had found it already.

"Marshy."

"Uh, it's Marcy." The teenager corrected him.

"Right. Marcy, come with me. There is something I want to talk about with you."

The noirette followed him, her guts twisting with dread while trying to think of a way to appease the toad if he was going to scold her. With Sasha out of sight, there was no protection from the captain. Suddenly, that stopped bothering her as a room with a large table and huge maps were presented to her.

"Now, Marcy." Grime started with a practiced, calm smile. "What if we play a game?"

[thanksbutnoshanks]

My Uneducated Opinion (that no one asked for)

It seems like every time I think it may be safe to come onto this site there’s drama. It’s a new fandom, new ocs, same shit show. 

This site has always been horrible for gatekeeping and anon hate.

To the point people abandon blogs either to completely leave the site or escape the tyrrany (it’s me, I’m people).

I have experienced the extreme of this where I put my heart and soul into helping this community grow (including co-running two seperate OC blogs) only to be completely ignored unless I did a fucking give away.

I have gone and reviewed and created for other people and I’m lucky if I get a thank you but the minute someone thinks you’ve wronged them the community turns and you end up with a knife in your back and ten million hateful anon messages.

Shit I remember back when I first came to this site and we were all on the TW OC bandwagon and people went to fucking war with each other. And I thought well that’s awesome people are sticking up for people until I ended up attacked myself when I wasn’t even involved.

I have bleed, sweat and cried for my creations but because I couldn’t keep up with you all with writing and creating and jumping on the newest fandom I was left in the dust.

Don’t get me wrong I have met allot of amazing people on here, but I can’t do the popularity contest any more. That’s why I have been so quiet. I have been trying to teach my daughter that popularity isn’t everything while also trying to wrack my brain on how to get people to share my creations and give a shit. 

And now I’m on here when I should be in bed because I can’t sleep and scrolling through here and just flabberghasted. One minute people are complaining because this OC sounds too much like mine and the next they’re pissed off because someone ships or wants to write something they don’t agree with.

Like do you know the history of women writers? We used to have to use male pen names to be taken seriously, some still do. So why are you not supporting a female writer to write what ever the fuck she wants? Why put them down. 

Fiction used to be a tool to challenge the status quo. Especially fantasy and what evolved into sci-fi. 

The whining at writers in their anon section just comes across super entitled. If it’s not something you feel comfortable reading because it may be triggering for you might be cathartic for the writer. Or like most good writers they might have plans to make the character more than they were in the original fiction.

But you’ll never know that if you badger them until they quit.

I’m getting super sketch vibes from all of this. It’s very I’m above you and you have to listen to me and my way of things to come at a writer like this.

I’m sorry for the rant, if you got this far you get a cookie. Because I feel like I need a fluffy disney movie and some cookie dough after this shit. 

I don’t know if I’ll keep my account active or not. But if you wanna stay in touch let me know. If not no hard feelings, I’m busy, we’re all busy, I get it. Love you all. Even if you don’t know me well. If we’ve spoke and you haven’t been a giant ass I respect and care about you.

Signing off for now (headed to go plan Nora’s book because why the fuck not?!)

[thecagedsong]

Forgotten Light: Chapter 4: History

A/N: Hey guys! Afternoon update since I was busy with pancake breakfasts this morning. Another Kendra chapter. Ronodin gets a little pushy, but it’s still G rated and won’t ever get worse than this, you’ll see what I mean. Remember, you are supposed to hate him. Still playing around with the chapter title for this one, and some of you who caught my analysis post a few months ago might recognize some themes.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 4: History

Kendra picked another book off the shelf, noticed it was in a language she couldn’t read, and put it back. Over half the books in this library she couldn’t read, which seems like poor planning on her part.

She wasn’t even sure she wanted to read. It had sounded like a good way to get her mind off her apparently outrageous life story, but there was really no hope of thinking about anything else.

Kendra was the seventeen-year-old daughter of a noble family, very old fashioned, that obtained their status through years of keeping the undead enslaved and trapping dragons and other magical creatures considered dangerous to mortals. Kendra, as the eldest, was expected to follow in her family’s footsteps as jailors, but had grown doubtful that their way of life was right.

Kendra had met Ronodin at the engagement party for her arranged marriage with his cousin, Bracken. Ronodin teased her that his cousin was such an ugly bore, she had fled from Bracken right into Ronodin’s arms. (Kendra had rolled her eyes when he said that). He had been invited, as family, but Ronodin was far from welcome.

He wouldn’t tell her why just yet, but promised to soon, when they trusted each other a little more. Having nearly killed him, she agreed that that explanation could wait.

Ronodin and Kendra started meeting in secret, and talking. They fell in love strolling through the dragon prison her family kept. To throw suspicion off their meetings secret, they told her family that she was fine going through with her engagement with Bracken.

Her wedding was approaching in a couple of months, and they cared for each other more than ever. Kendra knew that not even her family’s love was worth marrying anyone but Ronodin. He had sounded so amazed when he quoted her, awed that someone so amazing could ever feel that way about him.

Kendra had blushed at her own boldness, and simultaneously felt heartbroken over that fact that she had given that feeling up. She was attracted to Ronodin, certainly, but when she tried to summon the life changing love he talked about, she had nothing. Just attraction and the feeling that he was speaking to someone else.

She had apologized, and he said she would just have to let him court her again. He’d do it as many times as it took to stick, he had laughed. He would understand if she wanted to break off their engagement, but he hoped she would still give him a chance.

Kendra promised to think about it.

They devised a plan, to take place just after she and her brother participated in a coming of age trial specific for their family against the dragons of sanctuary. It was a disgusting spectacle, offering the dragons their freedom once a generation, if they can claim the wizenstone first. It would be the last thing her parents ever forced her to do, she had vowed, and arranged for it to look like her servant had kidnapped her in the immediate aftermath.

For, despite everything, Kendra loved her family. They tried to follow the traditions of their ancestors without cruelty, and they had faced hundreds of trials together. By staging her own kidnapping, she would be breaking their hearts, but in a way they would understand. She would preserve their reputation, and be utterly free.

And that was apparently who she was. Kendra hadn’t counted on losing her memory, but maybe she had felt okay doing it for her brother when she knew about her fake kidnapping going to occur. She must have trusted herself to fall in love with Ronodin again, and Ronodin to take care of her. It was a lot of trust to place in someone.

Kendra did wish she had a family picture. If she went to such great lengths to protect them, then she must have wonderful memories of them, locked under the enchantment. She picked up another book, this one in English, The Forgotten Crown.

The library kept with the crimson and black theme, and she picked a black leather armchair by a fireplace. Normal fire, this time, not blue. It was strange, when things were lit by blue fire, it washed out the red and made the black look like a void. Ronodin must have handled the design choices, she couldn’t imagine picking this out herself under any circumstances.

She wanted to warm her feet, but didn’t think she could move the heavy chair, so sat on it sideways. Her black dress rode up her thighs, but the exposed skin felt the warmth from the fire, so she didn’t bother with modesty while alone. Mendigo was standing guard, he’d knock if someone was going to come in.

Kendra curled up with her book, and started reading about what the author called the six great crowns. They were the pillars of immortality that moved the natural world through its extremes: The crowns of the Giants, the Dragons, the Underking, and the Demons, the Fairies, and the Fair Folk. Humans were the interlopers, and the author took a three whole pages to describe why humans were the absolute worst.

Their sins included but were not limited to:

-Having the audacity to not always want immortality

-Ignoring boundaries like disrespectful heathens

-Killing immortals

-Assuming they have purpose

-Not tasting good

And their greatest sin of all: daring to change. Their ability to change affected even perfectly happy immortals, how dare they! After the rant on humans, Kendra got absorbed in the discussion on the powers and functionality of each crown, and there was a diagram of how they related to each other.

It started with an upside-down triangle. Fairies on the top left corner, Demons on the top right, and the Fair Folk at the bottom point. These three crowns were defined by their morality. The Fairy Crown on light, innocence, and creation. The Demon crown on darkness, pain, destruction, and cruelty. The Fair Folk were the forgotten crown, the main topic of the book, after the background was set. They were entirely neutral, and refused to take part in wars, and only ever offered to broker peace. Their power came from their neutrality, and the author recorded rumors of the horrible fall that came from the one time they broke their neutrality.

Kendra was tempted to skip ahead, but the background came first for a reason. The second triangle overlaid the first to create a six-pointed star. They were creatures based on space. Giants were the lower left corner, and took the sky, the Underking on the lower right took the places below ground, and Dragons stood at the top able to dwell high in the air and a ways underground. Their morality mapped the first triangle. Dragons had the capacity to create and destroy, love goodness or love evil, and came in every space on that morality line. Sky Giants tended between creation and neutrality, while the undead and the underking worked between destruction and neutrality.

The first triangle also worked within the second. The fairies tended between the air and the land, Demons below and on the land, while the fair folk, in the opposite of dragons, could only dwell on the land.

The opposites were also important. Dragons were many things, but it was extremely difficult for them to be neutral. Demons and Sky Giants avoided each other’s domains, so it was most difficult to understand their relationship. The Fairy Realm and the Under Realm however, were the most combative pair of opposites. Neither could tolerate the other. Darkness would swallow light, or light banish darkness, it came down to strength, and there was very little middle ground.

What middle ground there was came from the rare case where beings abandoned their magical alignment for the opposite, spiritual alignment. There were rumors of a demon sworn to pacifism, that occasionally helped naiads, and —

There was a single booming knock, the door flinging open with a bang. Kendra spazzed, fumbling her book and sinking into the armchair. The book fell, and Kendra glared at her “fiancé”, who was chuckling at her again.

“You look lovely,” Ronodin said, pausing to take in her disheveled state.

“Your whole ‘let’s make Kendra jump’ deal makes me think yesterday wasn’t the first time I’ve attempted to kill you,” she said. Well, one sleep ago. Time was hard without clocks or the sun.

That made him laugh once more, and Kendra couldn’t help but smile in return.

“No, not the first time, and probably not the last,” he said with a grin, “But you’ve never regretted holding back.” His eyes flicked to her pale legs.

Pale, bare legs. Kendra squeaked, and tried to pull her dress down, but only managed to flip herself onto the floor. She stood up with burning cheeks and a huff.

“I’m sorry, you’re just so easy to rile up. I love that look in your eye,” Ronodin said.

“Mendigo! Come here,” Kendra called, and the puppet came into the room. “Mendigo, next time, please do some gentle knocking yourself instead of letting the guest attempt to destroy the door before entering.”

Mendigo nodded.

Kendra turned and was about to say something when Ronodin squinted at her.

“Oh, right, sorry,” she said, and with a couple of deep breaths managed to dim her own light. It was an odd sensation, like walking around with her fist clenched. She would get into the habit again eventually.

Ronodin led her into another room down the little hallway of their living space, where Chinese takeout was set up for the meal.

“I’m going to take a guess and say my suave fiancé can’t cook?” she said, noticing the cartons.

“If you’re going to be rude, you don’t have to eat,” Ronodin said, pulling out her chair for her.

“Do I know how to cook?” she asked.

Ronodin shrugged, “I don’t think so, you usually had servants for that, and you lost any memory of experiences that would help you cook. We’ll just stick to take out for now.”

“You have any trouble out there?”

“If you mean your family, no,” he said. “You seemed to have pulled it off, and no one knows where you went. It won’t be long, I think, before we can find somewhere else, if that’s what you still want.”

“Yes please,” Kendra said, serving herself some friend rice. It smelled good, even if she couldn’t remember if she liked it or not, “Look, maybe its part of the fairy thing, but I can’t live in hiding forever. This place is really nice, even if it could use some color, but if you’re going to make me fall in love with you again, its not going to be here. Sorry.”

“I’m working on it, I promise,” he said, pulling her free hand into his and giving it a kiss. He pressed it to his heart, like he had done when Seth had made her touch him with the glove, and it made her blush again.

“I need that hand for eating,” she complained, lightly twitching her hand to reclaim it. It wasn’t like she was repulsed by Ronodin, but his overly physical affection got tiresome.

“You can have it back if you promise to hold your chopsticks right,” he said.

Kendra huffed, “Not all of us grew up using these. And even if I had, I lost my memory. You should be giving me a lot more breaks than you are for that.”

He simply waited, smiling, still holding her hand tightly. Kendra sighed, “Fine, show me how?”

Ronodin grinned and helped position her fingers. Kendra ordered the variety that Ronodin had brought in order from most favorite to least, and Ronodin commented on what his favorites were.

“Careful, you’re going to want the left overs,” Ronodin said, when Kendra eyed the remainder of her favorite. “I met with our host on my way back in.”

“Oh? I thought you said I arranged this myself before I came down here.”

Ronodin sighed dramatically, “Yes, and part of your ‘oh so brilliant’ arrangement was to loan your wonderful and talented fiancé out to our host for errands. I have to go out tonight. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but tomorrow night is probably the soonest we can hope for.”

“Oh,” Kendra said. Sure, he was often annoying, but he cared for her and was the only company she had besides Mendigo. “I guess I’ll explore the library some more.” She stood up to throw her dishes in the sink.

“You could do that,” he said, coming up behind her. “Or you can ask nicely for your other present.”

“I have the feeling asking nicely doesn’t actually go very far with you,” she put her hands on her hips and faced him, “And presents are meant to be given, not asked for.”

Ronodin’s arm snaked forward, pulling her into a kiss. She had a moment to flail, then he released her, and it was over. “You’re right, my favors have costs. Lucky for you, you just paid in full,” he teased.

“Ronodin!” she said, flushing and shoving him away. “Don’t do that.”

He just grinned cheekily and held a shopping bag towards her.

Kendra snatched it from his hands. “I mean it. I’ve known you two very stressful days, no kissing yet.”

Ronodin bowed his head in mock humility, “My lady, I didn’t mean to irritate you. I had to try the old fairy tale cure somehow. Alas, it appears true love’s kiss wasn’t the cure to this curse.”

She wanted to protest that of course it didn’t work, she didn’t love him. But she’d pulled that line once before to get him to back off and he always looked haunted when she did that. Haunted and sad, she didn’t have the heart to keep throwing that in his face, no matter how rude he was. This was at least as difficult for him as it was for her. And a small kiss didn’t hurt her, not really.

Instead she changed the subject by looking in the bag. “Wood blocks, books, fabric, and paint?”

“Your hobbies were another reason your family was suffocating,” Ronodin explained, “You liked carving, painting, and sewing more than dragon slaying and ‘monster’ hunting. Each of these materials comes from a magic source. The wood comes from different enchanted trees, the fabric is made from the hair of a goat the size of a house or lotus fibers, and the paints are mixed with tears and blood of various magical creatures.”

“Why is that important?”

“Because you are one of the select few beings that can craft magic items,” Ronodin said, “Part of you is that everfull wellspring of magic. You’ve done amazing at dimming it by the way, your control after just a day is astounding. But you can also recharge magical items that have run out of power, and when using the right materials, you can create new ones.”

Kendra’s eyebrows raise, “I thought…” she chased the elusive fact down, “I thought only wizards can create magical items.”

“They create it by crafting a vessel, using the same materials, and then binding their own magic into the object through an enchantment. You can skip that part, with the unlimited magic source you have at your disposal. You are more limited in what you can create, especially when starting out, you generally have to stick to reinforcing and enhancing the properties of the materials you’re using. When you do it right, the item will retain its magic long after you’ve put it down.”

“Wow,” she said, “And I could paint, sew, and carve?”

He nodded, “Enchanting items wasn’t at all in your family’s plans for you, so you tended to craft in secret. It will probably take you a while to pick up the skills again, but at least you’ll have something to occupy yourself if the library fails. The books in there provide some basic theories that will help.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling and holding the bag close. “This was really thoughtful. I know that since I gave up my memory and my family in one swoop, I don’t have a chance at getting them back. But little connections like this help me feel…a little less lost.”

“I love you, Kendra,” he said, simply, “I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

Kendra smiled back uncertainly, unable to reply in kind. He seemed disappointed when she didn’t respond, but moved on to helping her set up a crafting room.

What kind of person led the life that she did? What would it take for old Kendra to not be a stranger anymore? Ronodin was a lot of things, but he deserved so much more than to have her break his heart at every turn.

[flowerfan2]

A Lot of Sinks

“Your sister has done it on a lot of sinks,” Patrick says.  “Maybe we should try it.”

Coda to S05e10, Roadkill.  A03.

Patrick is on his way back from the tax seminar when his phone vibrates with so many texts it slides off the seat onto the floorboard.  He pulls over to the side of the road to check, just in case there’s an actual emergency, and then sends back a quick message letting David know he’ll be home soon.

It doesn’t take long to make a quick stop at a liquor store and their favorite burger place.  He figures having something to help David’s mood will be worth it, given that his day has included not just the discovery that Wendy’s new business venture is a rip-off of Rose Apothecary but also that Alexis and Ted have wreaked havoc on the store’s newly renovated bathroom.  In contrast, Patrick’s day of listening to moderately boring talks about small business tax issues was completely drama-free.

David swans up to Patrick as soon as he enters the apartment, launching into a detailed description of Alexis’ atrocious conduct and how this even tops the incident with the Tamagotchis.  Patrick deposits his bags on the counter and turns to David, placing a finger on his lips.

David’s eyes go wide, but he stops talking.

“Give me five minutes,” Patrick says.  “Go sit down on the couch, and let me get our dinner ready.”

“But-” David starts, his lips brushing Patrick’s fingertip.

“Nope.  I’ll listen to all of it in five minutes.  Go.”

David’s face is a combination of astonished and amused, with perhaps a bit of arousal as well.  He gives Patrick a smile that twists up one corner of his mouth, and sits himself down on the couch as instructed, crossing one leg gracefully over the other and lacing his fingers together on top of his knee.

Patrick turns away from him and focuses on the task at hand.  It’s harder to do than he anticipated - David is such a sight for sore eyes, and he’s tempted to throw his plans away and himself into David’s arms – but he thinks it will be worth it.

He puts the burgers and fries into the oven to keep them warm.  It’s not ideal, but it turns out that a good burger is a good burger, even reheated.  He takes the two chocolate milkshakes and pours them into a blender, and adding generous doses of his purchases from the liquor store – Bailey’s Irish Cream and vodka.  He adds a few ice cubes and pulses the blender a few times, then pours it into tall glasses, with plenty left over for seconds.

Patrick drops the straws in and takes a long sip.  His creation still tastes mostly like ice cream, so Patrick adds more vodka on top of each milkshake.  It’s not a precise recipe by any means.  

Satisfied, he checks his watch, sets the timer on the oven for a few more minutes, and brings the drinks over to David.  

David takes one of the milkshakes and ponders it curiously.

“Taste it,” Patrick says, and David does, his lips pursing around the straw.  “What do you think?”

“Oh, may I speak now?” David asks coyly.

“Please.”

David blinks his eyelashes at Patrick and wiggles a little bit.  “Well, I applaud your efforts.  Especially the vodka floater.  Genius.”

“You don’t think there’s too much alcohol in there?”

David snorts.  “You realize that my drink of choice is a vaguely chocolate and peppermint flavored shot?”

“I do.  I thought this might appeal to you too, what with the chocolate and all.”

“There is definitely something appealing here,” David drawls, leaning in close.  “And it’s not just this delicious boozy dessert.”  David kisses Patrick, his lips cold from the milkshake, and then pulls back.  “But today was insane, and that’s before Alexis and Ted lied to my face.  Ted!  You have to let me tell you about it.”

“I will.  I just thought it would be more fun this way.”

“If I was drunk?”

“If you were happily enjoying a sweet adult beverage.”

“Mmm.”  David takes a long sip of his milkshake.  “You are correct.”

David proceeds to tell the story of the vaguely David-like man who conned Wendy into selling rip-offs of luxury goods, and how they discovered the ruse and saved Wendy from certain disaster in business and love, and then he launches into the Alexis debacle.  In between dramatic sweeps of his free hand he slurps at the milkshake, his face growing ever more expressive.

When David finally takes a breath Patrick leans in and kisses him, hot and determined, with plenty of tongue for good measure.  David abandons his rant and returns the kiss with enthusiasm, climbing into Patrick’s lap. Patrick is about to let his brain completely derail when the timer on the oven goes off.

“What now?”  David exclaims, as if the evening has been a series of cockblocks.

“Our burgers,” Patrick says, reluctantly shoving David off his lap.

“Let them burn, I don’t care,” David grabs at Patrick as he moves away.  Patrick is tempted, but the timer won’t stop buzzing and he doesn’t want to piss off the neighbors.  

David follows him to the kitchen, pouring the remainder of the milkshakes from the blender into their glasses.  He checks out the burgers and fries and nods.  “Diner night with bonus alcohol. I like it.”

“Thought you would.”  

They stand at the counter and feed each other bites of the deliciously salty fries, but soon enough they’re just kissing again, David looping his hands around Patrick’s neck and Patrick tugging at David’s hips.  Patrick shifts them so that David is leaning up against the counter, and David slouches a little so that their hips are aligned.  Patrick slots a thigh between David’s legs and David lets out a low moan.  “Mmm, yes, come here,” David murmurs, reaching around to grab Patrick’s ass, but his arm must hit something behind him on the way because there’s a clatter and then-

“Oh god, I can’t.  I just can’t,” David says, his face red and his eyes wide.

“What?”  Patrick’s brain is mostly offline at this point.

“The – the sink,” David says, gasping out a laugh.  “You’ve got me – up against the sink.”

Patrick glances at the sink, where the bottle of dish soap has fallen down.  It doesn’t seem particularly funny.  Then he remembers the story about Alexis.

“Your sister has done it on a lot of sinks,” he says.  “Maybe you should try it.”

David glares at him.  “Mkay, that is not happening.”  

“It almost did.”  Of course, getting David up on the counter would do nothing to help out their height difference, but Patrick is tempted to try it anyway.  It would put certain of his body parts at a convenient height for Patrick to reach.

“It most certainly did not.”  David takes Patrick by the arm and pulls him away from the kitchen.  “And I’ll thank you not to bring images of my sister into this.” David waves his hand between them.  “Just, ew.”

“You started it.”

“No, you did.”  David flops down on the couch, and Patrick sits next to him.  “Ugh.  Now I can’t stop thinking of Alexis’s naked…skin… on sinks.  Could anything be more unhygienic?  Do you thinks she cleans it off first?  Or afterward?”  David looks horrified.

“Kind of killed the mood, huh?” Patrick asks, as David slumps next to him.  Patrick tugs until David is curled up with his head in Patrick’s lap, and starts threading his fingers through David’s hair.

David presses into his touch and lets out a little hum of approval.  Patrick had assumed, when they first started dating, that David wouldn’t let him anywhere near his hair.  Turns out he was wrong.  David doesn’t let most people near it, but Patrick is not most people.

“I’m sorry you had such a crappy day,” Patrick says.  “I wish I could have been with you.”

“Ugh, no, I’m glad you weren’t.  You would have been furious.”

“About Alexis?”  Patrick rather thinks he would have been amused – although come to think of it, a broken sink means he’ll have to deal with Ronnie again, which is not going to go well.

“I was thinking about Wendy ripping off our store, actually.”  David twists in Patrick’s lap, looking up at him.  “She says everyone’s doing general stores just like ours.”

“I doubt that.”  

“I guess it wasn’t as good an idea you thought.”

Patrick knows that the insecurity he hears in David’s voice is real.  He wishes it wasn’t the case, but he knows David Rose, and self-doubt comes with the territory.  He just needs to do his job and balance him out.  It’s why they work so well together.  “Come on, who are you going to believe, Wendy or me?”

“I suppose.”

“I’m the one that’s going to all these conferences, and I can tell you that no one else is doing what we do.  Bringing locally sourced products together under a common brand, with such a high degree of quality control?  With exclusive vendor arrangements?  Your idea was unique, David.  Our store is one of a kind, and nothing Wendy does to mimic it is going to change it.”

“Do you really think so?”  David sits up and waves his hands in frustration as he speaks.  “What if Wendy had kept going with her inferior products?  Where would that leave us?”

Patrick takes David’s hands and catches his gaze.  “We would be right where we are – with a successful store that reflects your creative brilliance and my unerring business sense.”

David blushes and gives Patrick a sideways smile.  “Would we call it ‘unerring’?  Then how do you explain the fact that our sink collapsed today?”

“Hey, I’m not the one that left Alexis there unsupervised.”

“Perhaps that was part of my creative brilliance,” David says, his smile growing.

“You’re right, I’m sure deconstructed bathrooms are all the rage.  Great plan.”

“It’s probably better that Alexis broke the sink.  What if it had been a customer?  They could sue.  This was an accident waiting to happen.”

“Your sister, or the sink?”

David grins and leans forward to capture Patrick’s lips in a kiss, pressing him back against the couch.  “How about we stop talking about my sister now?” David says in a low voice that sends sparks down Patrick’s spine.

“Now that’s the creative brilliance I was talking about.”