#I do like the idea of a younger Marion though

[ddreamywitch]

Chapter One - Dinner and Diatribes

knight!benjicot blackwood x princess!reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: benji is (hot and) bothered, probably inaccurate depiction of knighting ceremonies

song: Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier

a/n: I only fleetingly proofread this, please excuse any mistakes <3

prologue

It is a swelteringly hot day.

Humid, stale air presses down upon the kingdom, torturing anyone who dared to venture to so much as lift a finger.

Weather like this is not made for exciting endeavours.

In fact it is made for remaining in a shaded area, or within the castle walls or in the cool waters of the sea, but you are not granted any such indulgences today.

Your handmaiden, Marion, winces at your gasp for air. “I am sorry, princess. Would that I could spare you this, but a lady of your status simply cannot leave her chambers without a corset.”

You smile at her reflection in the mirror. “It is not your fault, dear. I shall suffer the confines of a corset, just as the common folk suffer their afflictions. ‘Tis but a small price to pay for a lavish dinner.”

Marion returns your smile but it does not look at all convinced, rather than dread-filled.

She does know her princess well, after spending many years in your service and loyally devoted. She knows when you are happy and she knows you as you are now, which is decidedly unhappy and yet determined to convince your surroundings of the opposite.

Marion does not understand why you always are so insistent upon these matters, she figured you might be a little less ashamed to be honest with your handmaiden, who had seen you bare after all.

But Marion also does not understand how hard it is to be outwardly emotional after being taught over and over, for years and years, that you may do nothing but smile tepidly and sit prettily.

You let her finish the lacing of your corset and briefly you clutch the back of your vanity chair. “God be good, that I might survive in this merciless warmth,” you mutter through a haphazard giggle.

Your handmaiden directs your gaze at your dresses. “I have picked out your simplest gowns, princess, should you think them fit for the occasion?”

A knighting ceremony has never happened in the time she had worked for you.

Or they have, but you were simply not the one to be doing the knighting, so the question of the wardrobe did feel rather overwhelming, with nothing to go off of.

Your head tilts slightly to the side as you take them all in and though you can feel your heart, in your now uncomfortably squashed ribcage, scream out for a thin and modest dress, you know deep down that it would be much better to wear something more precious.

To your knowledge, a fair share of the nobles were to attend this little festivity.

A sigh escapes you and you shake your head. “Might you fetch me the gown with the flowers embroidered? I do believe the king would like me to make a good impression upon our visitors tonight, it would be about due time that he attempted to convince me of marriage once again.”

This time Marion’s smile seems genuine, at the light ridicule of your father. “I shall see to it, princess. In the meantime, I think Ser Rodrick would like to bid you his goodbyes.”

You cannot help the pain this causes you. The notion of having to part ways with your former knight did not sit well with you at all.

Your robe drapes around you and the door creaks open.

Marion is always impossibly quick and quiet. She flits through the castle not much unlike a little mouse and you do not even know in which moment she leaves.

Whereas Ser Rodrick with his ever imposing silhouette was not ever subtle.

Your gaze meets his in your mirror and you think that you could weep right then. He seems to share this idea.

“I wish I were but a few years younger, princess, so that I could remain by your side a little longer.”

There is a thick clot in your throat, so thick that you may choke on it. “You’ve performed your duties beautifully,” you say, fighting tooth and nail against the tears threatening to spill.

Slowly you turn to face your sworn protector.

A man like Ser Rodrick, you found, is hard to come by. His kindness and honour seeks its match and after the many years together, he had long transcended his position and become more of a confidant, dare I say, friend instead.

He had known you from a sticky, wild childhood, through the years of your growth until now.

Long gone is the babe he was sworn to protect, with its clumsy movements and relentless howling, replaced by what you are now; the realm’s delight, a fair young woman, grown into the shape of a dedicated princess.

He bows his head down. “I shall miss you dearly, princess.”

Your laugh is a watery, wet thing. “Oh, you shall not. I will write you many letters. Your retirement shall not be as peaceful as you think, my good Ser.”

The setting sun reflects in the shine of his armour, a chest plate painted hues of gold and orange in this light. It bears the sigil of your father’s house and it heaves now with his heavy breathing.

“Your brother has asked me for guidance on who to pick and I put forward the youngest Lord Mormont. A northerner with a northerner’s honour.”

You nod, fingers fiddling with the belt of your robe, fiddling to find the right words now but they do not come to you and so you remain silent.

There could not be a good replacement for your knight, how could anyone ever understand you again, the way that Ser Rodrick had.

“Child, do not fret. I am away from court, not from the world,” he says. “And I shall reply to your letters with great pleasure.”

“How come you are not to be at the ceremony? Should my old protector not be there to see me off to my new one?”

Rodrick shrugs. “It is the way of tradition. I will be dismissed by your father and leave the court in mere moments.”

It is unfair really, it is almost embarrassing to you, to insult Rodrick and have him retire, like an old horse, as though he is no longer a capable fighter.

It had come as a bit of a surprise to you as well, not much of a warning of any kind had been given to you, before your father informed you not even a week ago of this rather drastic change.

The thought that you were to share every waking moment with a stranger bothered you relentlessly.

You cross the room quickly, manners and protocol thrown to the wind as you throw your arms around your knight’s neck.

It is awkward and tense, his iron and steel exterior boring into your soft flesh, but nonetheless he does not pull away, offering you comfort the best he can.

You are the third born child of the king, and though it was undeniable how popular you were at court and with the smallfolk, your father did not care much.

You were not an heir or a spare, you simply were there and as you bent and broke yourself to garner his attention, it was Ser Rodrick who would look down at the flushed cheeks you so often donned as a child and impose his gentleness on you.

As you grew you found yourself wondering how much the blood in your veins meant, what it mattered that the king had put you into your mother’s womb, when it was somebody else who you found yourself in the care of.

“Oh dearest, your mother would be so overcome with delight at the sight of you today,” he whispers when you finally pull back, one large rough hand on your shoulder. “What a marvellous person you’ve become.”

The hurt and love in your heart intermingle and threaten to burst through its seams. The gripping force in your neck does not fade and so, to the best of your abilities, you inhale a deep breath.

“You must visit soon, Ser Rodrick. Whenever you’ve grown sick of spending your days lazing about,” you attempt at a jest.

He shoves at you a little bit. “And you must remain out of trouble. At least for a few weeks.”

You huff. “I am nothing short of a saint.”

“You are,” he says. “You truly are.”

You dare not let the tears spill from your eyes and you dare not look into his, where you are sure you will find the same sheen as in yours.

“I must go, but rest assured a piece of me remains with you.“

In the most royal demeanour and grace you can muster, you curtsy to him. “I am indebted to you forever, Ser Rodrick.”

He kisses the back of your hand, unmarred and soft against his, not a speck of dirt beneath your well-kempt nails. “Farewell for now.”

You do not wish to say farewell and so you do not. You would see him again after all, at least on your birthday, you would certainly see to it.

Silently you watch him leave you behind and though you know that you are not truly without protection, you do wonder who else at court would ever be so honest and gracious with you again.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You regret not having given into your desires, the moment you put on this wretched ball gown.

Though the sun is almost entirely gone now, its force still lingers in the air and you think you may be strangled by it.

With great urgency you cling to your wine chalice, about the third pour deep in hopes of ridding yourself of your sweaty discomfort.

It was a wonderful gown, a pale green shade, its bodice and hems embroidered with rosy flowers. The king always liked you in these distinctly girlish dresses, the perfect picture of an obedient and compliant daughter.

He sits to your right, drunk and distracted by his latest mistress next to him.

Lady Cathcart, a notorious sinner, as many liked to say.

Marion had once told you that Lady Cathcart was an expert at fellatio. You do not know what that means, but you assume it could only be of immoral nature.

Bile rises at the sight of them, unapologetic and public shame brought to your mother’s memory.

You avert your eyes and redirect them to your brother next to you.

His attire clashes with yours, a dark purple, not at all youthful and much more suitable for the heir to the throne. He looks just as annoyed as you feel, though you’ve gone to great lengths to hide it.

“Tristan?” You tap your chalice against his.

He breaks out of his reverie with wide eyes. “Sister.”

“When is the ceremony to begin?”

With nervous eyes he scans the room. It bustles with gowns and nobles and servants. “Not much longer,” he somehow ascertained through the sight of this. “Why do you ask?”

“I would like to be excused for a few moments,” you explain and your brother does not question why.

He was often a very crass and forward young man, but he did harbour a certain softness to his younger sister. With the wave of a hand he gives you permission and you do not wait any longer, your chair screeching across the floor immediately.

Fingers curled around your skirt layers, you make haste for the gardens, lest you fall unconscious before you get there.

It was too late to change your dress now, so the sweet solace of the royal gardens would have to serve you as an opportunity for a breath of air.

Air that wasn’t stained with the ladies’ expensive perfumes or the intense spices of dinner.

Air that wasn’t tainted with your father’s misbehaviour.

Your breathing had become quite laboured and you cursed the extravagance of your family, especially now, as your gown had become your body’s prison.

Guards open the doors and the moment you are out of prying eyes you drop into the grass beneath you.

It is no longer soft and ticklish, the way it had been a few short weeks ago, in the wakes of spring. The harshness of summer had turned it coarse and mean against your exposed arms.

It is not very suitable to lay around on the ground like this, but the stars above are spinning and you feel you could have died if you spent a moment longer upright.

Lord Mormont, you think to yourself. A very quiet man, your senior by a few years. You had only spoken with him fleetingly and never about anything of great interest, to either of you, you assumed.

It leaves you wondering whether he would become this constant distanced force in her life. Not only a protector but also somebody who would keep her in line.

In your many years with Ser Rodrick, you had worked out a rhythm with him. You had gotten used to one another and therefore, after so many hours spent together, a strong foundation of trust rests beneath your friendship. He had never chastised you for your shortcomings as princess, he had let you venture outside the castle walls with Marion and had not uttered a single word to your family.

You’re not sure that Lord Mormont would be so tolerant. Northerners were notoriously serious about their duties, he does not seem like the type to take lightly to things like this.

With your face turned upward to the moon and your mind racing, you do not hear the approaching footsteps until it is too late.

A face leans above you.

The young man has a crooked sort of look to him, not as princely as the faces you are accustomed to.

A scar graces his lip, accompanied by a bend in the slope of his nose.

Princes and noblemen rarely carried traits like this, he looks rather common.

Right now he also looks at you, rather confused.

“Looking for anything down there,” he teases as heat shoots into your cheeks, more than the high temperatures had already caused.

You sit up, fumbling to straighten your appearance at least a little bit, the rash movement sending you back into your previous state of low-level vertigo.

The man does not think to offer you a hand and you are once again taken aback by his…commonness.

“What is a lady like you doing, tumbling around in the gardens at night?”

His hands land on his hips.

Maybe he was the stable boy of one of the Lords that were visiting.

His clothing reveals no sigils to you, a simple black attire with a red cape.

No, he could not be highborn.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

Your eyes widen at the realisation that you are simply sitting there, not speaking.

“I felt a bit faint,” you explain. “Would you offer me a hand, young man?”

His brow raises a little but he extends one to you anyways.

Like Rodrick's, his hand is witness to hard labour, again a stark contrast to yours.

Unlike Rodrick though, he grips you with more force, all but yanking you upwards. Nausea brews in you.

“I thank you,” you mumble. What a queer young man.

He is more brave than a servant, to address you so haphazardly.

He grunts in lieu of a real answer.

“Tell me, what’s this place like? Seems like a fucking shitshow so far.”

It clicks then. He does not know that you are the princess. He thinks you to be of a lower house. It would make sense, with the position he found you in but your appearance surely does not speak to that of a lower house.

Men are always so indifferent to these details, they do not realise their worth.

You clear your throat. “Well, the royal family is rather kind. And there are many feasts and festivities held here. It can be quite interesting,” you say.

He shakes his head. “´Course you’d say that,” he mutters just beneath his breath.

You cross your arms. “What do you imply?”

“You capital people are all the fucking same. Insufferable flatterers.”

It is not often that people speak so frankly to you. You are not sure whether that might be why his words offend you or because he is simply wrong.

“I am no flatterer.”

His nose scrunches. “Yeah? You’ve never seen the princess and doused her in compliments? Never made eyes at her boring brother?”

“I would have you know that her brother is not boring and the princess is a very humble person. She does not care much for feigned niceties.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, birdy.” He lets the name roll over his tongue like it is a term of endearment, delicious and something to relish in.

Now you take a step back. “Watch who you are speaking to, you fool.”

He does not seem troubled by your reaction, lets one hand run through his wild dark hair. “And who is that?”

“A lady. You would do good in learning the pillars of chivalry.”

He laughs, bitterly and full of sarcasm. “Oh trust me I know chivalry and I know it well.”

The garden feels different now, charged with an energy you could not quite put your fingers on. He seems an iresome lad and you decide that you needn’t handle such treacherous behaviour displayed in front of you.

What a fool he is, to speak so lewdly of your family in the very heart of your father’s kingdom.

“Well then, you should learn to mind your tongue. This is no place for words as yours,” you spit and once more grip the skirts of your dress. “I shall bid you goodnight.”

He does not do the same, you think you even see him roll his eyes before you turn your back to him.

It is the curse of manhood to always think they have a right to something. It is what leads them into violence and wars and their own demise.

Women are not troubled with such foolery, women are taught to keep their mouths shut and they hold the wisdom of listening in high regard. It is why they always know the secrets of the castle before any of the Lords hear of it.

You cannot help but shake off your head at this rude intrusion of your peace, this imbecilic attitude.

He would learn his lesson soon enough, he would not make the same mistake unscathed with any other courtiers.

Before you enter again you reach into your hair, checking to see whether it had fallen apart in your short time on the ground, but Marion is too good at her job. Despite hours of dancing or riding or windy weather, it seems that no hair falls amiss no matter how intricate or complicated the style.

A blind man could have picked you out as the princess, you are sure of it.

Huffing and puffing with anger, you drop back into your seat next to your brother, willing this god-forsaken day to finally come to its end.

Your brother ushers a servant to refill your cup. “Are you quite alright?”

“I think my corset is laced too tight and my closest friend has left the city but other than that, I am splendid,” you reply, a misdirected hit of venom toward your innocent brother.

He nudges you with shoulder. “Are you not excited about meeting your new knight? I’ve heard great tales of him.”

You shake your head no and gulp down the sweet wine in a hurry. “I cannot imagine.”

“What? He’s more a myth than a man.”

Liquid goes down the wrong pipe and you nearly choke. “Mormont? In what world?” You ask, entirely incredulous.

Tristan’s eyes widen. “Father has not told you?”

Your eyes tell him to be honest with himself. When has their father ever given you the graciousness of staying informed? He hadn’t even told you of your mother’s death, leaving it to your oldest sister to do so. It does not come as a surprise that once again you are left in the dark about matters that directly concern you.

“It is not Lord Mormont. Father attempted to create peace in the Riverlands,” Tristan begins to explain.

An odd feeling of dread creeps into your bones. “And?”, you inquire, voice taunt but before your brother manages to get out an answer, your father rises.

He is drunk, he sways softly from side to side and you can see his Lady Cathcart’s fingers curl around his leg in an attempt to keep him steady. The room falls quiet, eager to hear their monarch speak.

Insufferable flatterers, the young man pierces your thoughts again.

Some bit of skin is pinched, right beneath your breast and it sends a sharp pain down your side when you straighten your back once more, harsh enough to leave you distracted.

It is odd, you cannot seem to find clarity today, your thoughts distant and flimsy, like water in your hands.

“A special honour shall be bestowed on one of you young lads. The honour of protecting the sanctity of our kingdom's delight, my beloved daughter,” King Alexander boomed, the slightest hint of slur to his words.

Polite claps follow suit and beneath the table you begin to twist the rings on your fingers.

“Now, our council has given great thought to our choice and we are certain that we have picked the most suitable man in the kingdom, for his reputation exceeds him.”

Whispers flood the room and it takes much of your self-constraint to not take your brother’s hand like a little child.

“Benjicot Blackwood, shall be sworn in, in our midst, tonight.”

Bloody Ben.

Tristan is right. There’s many tales to be told of the heir of Raventree, none of which have anything to do with knighthood and to you, all of them are terrifying. A man like that to watch over you with hawkeyes.

You would have much preferred the stoic Lord Mormont.

You swallow thickly.

“My dearest shall knight him herself.”

Your father has not looked at you yet, perhaps he does know that he will face nothing but contempt. He is a drunkard but he is a king and perhaps even a good one and it does take at least somewhat of a brain to be one.

You blinked, once, twice and then you smiled—a practised smile, not much alike to a real one—and got up.

The lightness in your head leaves your periphery blinded, but you have learned after many years of life under the watchful eyes of the nobility, to not stumble, no matter your state and with graceful steps you walk around the table reserved for the highest ranks.

Well, and Lady Cathcart.

Your knees bend very deeply before your father as his sword slices the air.

Nobody thinks to keep you up to date, but nobody needs to tell you about things like this. The manners and the conduct of behaviour at court are ingrained into your brain.

You do not have to be told when to bow or when to rise.

The sword is heavier than expected, it quivers a bit in your hold when your father passes it across the table to you.

It’s gorgeous, with engravings along its blade, flowery gardens, lush hills, stormy seas, it shines in the candlelit hall.

The grand doors creak upon and you cannot bear it any longer, you whirl around, all dizziness ignored, impatient to see the legendary bloody Ben.

At the end of the path he stands, simple black clothes, dark red cape and crooked nose.

Your jaw drops, only by a little.

From the distance parting you, you can’t be certain but Benjicot Blackwood looks about as surprised as you.

He shouldn’t be surprised, you think, he should be worried.

The sword is still awkward in the gip of both of your hands, but the face you make is practised.

Marion had once compared it to Rodrick’s steel armour.

It takes the man a torturously long time to finally reach you, each step dragged as though something was pulling him the other way.

He looks at you, like he wishes to challenge you, but he kneels, not with poise, moreso dropping before you like a sack of potatoes.

Through strands of hair he peaks up at you and it is a funny little turn, you wonder what you must have looked like looking up at him in the garden

Solemnly you clear your throat.

“ Wilt thou, upon this day, pledge thy fealty to the House Aprikate, and stand as a Knight of the Crown?” Your voice drips with an authority that feels strange on your tongue, an unfamiliar power vested in you.

“Yes, your grace.”

You almost feel bad for him, it does not seem so honourable to be kneeling like this, head firmly directed down, so clearly beneath you for everyone to see.

“Doth thou wish to abandon thy self, and be sword and shield for the sake of the greater good?”

This time he pauses a little longer. “Yes, your grace.”

You lift the sword from where you hold it against your mid, slowly and pray to god and all his saints that the tremble of your hand is not too noticeable.

With much tenderness you touch upon each of his shoulders.

“I do hereby dub thee, Benjicot Blackwood, knight of honour. May your courage and devotion become a shining example throughout all the land.”

And so it is done, your chest constricting and heart writhing within. You cannot say what it is that pushes you over the edge, but you see the way he looks at you, as though you have damned him to hell on earth.

Something jolts down your spine and finally your arduous work of remaining composed unravels, darkness cloaking your sight.

A gasp reverberates, mayhaps yours, but you are unconscious before your body tumbles to the ground.

[arthurmorganson]

CAN WE LWEARN ABOUT YOUR OCS (FROTHING AT THE MOUTH)

YES!!! I have full lists on foretelling with all my OC details (and half of them aren’t written up yet) but i’ll give you the gist of all of them basically! The main idea is that at one point all their stories intersect and they form a gang (which has a subsequent fallout too). this all takes place around the 1870s-1880s and up. the characters are below the cut!

Elijah Beckett - young, skittish drifter with a knack for maps and traveling. he has a scar that splits his lip open, generously gifted by his drunkard father in a fit of rage. he got his outlaw status by killing his dad in self defense and running away, relying on petty thievery and pickpocketing to make do throughout his travels. he’s a nervous young thing, who doesn’t know that he’ll end up taking after his father, turning more to melancholy than to violence

Marion Lloyd-Wheeler- the pretty lady that asks you if you want to have a good time for a price in the corner of the saloon? that’s a con-man, and he’ll get you drunk and steal all your valuables. he’s also not exactly a man, after playing this persona for so long, feeling conflicted about separating his “job” from his identity. closed off and wonderfully suave, he can talk a dog off a meat wagon.

Jacob Montgomery- the most stubborn man you’ll ever meet. A calculated, skilled bounty hunter whose own ego led to his subsequent fall into outlaw status. Priding himself on managing to kill all his bounties in a timely, efficient manner, he neglected the part where he had to bring multiple people in alive, in turn getting into a kerfuffle that escalated to the point where his partner ended up dead. ever since, he’s gone into hiding, breaking into his stored funds to cope for a year, at the bottom for a bottle. though he soon cleans up his act when a gang comes and takes him in

Wyatt Doherty - a mountain of a man who could crush your head like a watermelon. why would he, though? he hates violence. and yet he finds himself in a troubling predicament, having to illegally take up underground boxing for money to send back to his folks and younger brother in Ireland. a family man through and through, he feels conflicted having to deal with such violence when he promised his parents that he’d go to America to find good, clean farm work and send back every bit of money he makes. a sweet, slightly dim man, but full of love

Dalia Ladrón Ruiz - keep an eye on your horse whenever she’s around because she won’t hesitate to gently coax it away and take it to the nearest livestock market or horse auction and make a pretty penny off it too. a notorious horse thief driven out of Mexico because she stole the wrong person’s horse(s, plural), she finds herself with a rather sizable bounty on her head as she flees towards the wild American west. a strong, determined woman, with an abrasive sense of humor and brutal honesty

Samuel Jude Orson - it’s a miracle a man like him manages to enter his late 40s. a once-notorious outlaw, he managed to flee and leave his past life behind, finding work at a ranch who’s owner asked no questions, and was just happy to have a diligent, working man helping him with daily tasks. quiet, closed off, and blind in one eye, he doesn’t make for a particularly good (or disarming) conversationalist. he will soon realize he has a lot more to deal with when he manages to connect and bond with the ranch owner’s daughter, and finds his own past coming back to haunt him

Willow McCarthy- respective daughter of the ranch owner. a sweet, hardworking farmgirl putting in the work and the muscle to help her dad out at any given occasion, jovial and kind to the bone. she talks the ears off all the helping hands around the ranch, especially one named Samuel. she finds his stories fascinating, but opts to not tell her dad the full extent of her knowledge of Samuel. little does she know her life will shift entirely from what she is used to, getting falsely accused of a crime she knows she didn’t commit. she ends up on the run with her acquaintance-turned-mentor, Samuel, learning to toughen up, and cope with her new outlaw status.

[mochinomnoms]

So I recently found your AO3 and like

Do you happen to have any photo ideas on what Yev and the freshmen from PTM look like? <3 Cause they're canon to TWST in my heart (I love all of em so much)

Not really, I have a specific image in my head for each, but just not the time or the full talent to draw more than headshots lol. But I can try to provide references.

I can provide with some generally inspirational pics, as it's always hard to imagine an exact match to a real life person. Yev has a drawing I did here, but you can also imagine him referencing the Peruvian model Patty Wong. Similar to how Vil has a feminine beauty to him, Yev does as well.

James I think would most closely resemble Orlando Bloom as he was in the first two Pirates of the Caribbean movies. I think just a bit darker and with more freckles from being out in the sun. His hair in unkempt often, which infuriates Riddle, but for some reason no one can get it to not be poofy and frizzy. It's cause he needs a curly hair routine, lol.

I don't have a celebrity for Wynfred, but this model I was able to find I think is a pretty good resemblance. He has two slightly longer, braided strands framing his face that have his green moon hair charms. Also, he has a Rosarian (aka TWST British) accent, but it's a very good fake one :)

I had a harder time finding a reference for Marion, it seems that the internet doesn't appreciate chubby men >:( Also, they all have facial hair which Marion doesn't so that made it hard too. But, I think this pic of I think a younger Hozier is a good starting point. Imagine hair long enough to tie back and a bit more chubby cheeks.

Silas was easier to find references for, and they're androgynous, so they have a mix of feminine and masculine beauty to them. Vil and Rook would've loved them if they were around during PTM. I like to imagine that, like Epel, other students mistake them as a girl for a while. Unlike Epel, Silas plays along with it and even dresses up in the dress/skirt versions of the uniforms for some times. At least until they get bored and switch back to a more masculine appearance, which confuses everyone for a moment. When asked, they'll just say "I felt like a guy today, might be a girl tomorrow though!"

Aspen, Tony, and Yakub are all a lot harder to find references for, since they're nonhuman, and I've made some of those features a bit more prominent in their designs. If I were to assign someone to them as a starting point, Aspen I think would be best to refer to Troye Sivan. Tony is a bit easier, as I can very clearly imagine him as a very short young Anthony Ramos, love of my life. And lastly, I need you to hear me how on Yakub, because he's based on Iago who is based on a parrot which are mostly native to southern North, Central, and South Americas. Thus, imagine him as Xolo Maridueña but much taller and a bit darker, and the feather hair is a reference to the Tooth Fairy's own feather hair from Rise of the Guardians.

I'm hoping in the future I can either make the time to draw everyone on my own, or commission someone if I have spare money in the future.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

"A smiles fondly when B starts to blush and draws them closer, allowing them to hide in their embrace" harryjean

[Oh, this was fun. I have a variety of ideas of what Jean is like, and it was nice to figure it out for this one.]

He's the kind of handsome that makes Jean look away quick. Dark hair and big eyes and a sweet smile. Her sister giggles next to her and jabs an elbow in her ribs. 

"The one with the basset hound eyes?" she asks. 

Jean kicks the back of Marion's shoe. "Hush," she says. 

"He's so your type," Marion says. "Shame he's wearing a uniform."

Which. Yes. It should be. Because Jean has promised herself she's not going to run off with some boy in uniform she meets at a Red Cross dance. She hates cliches, and she wants no part in this particular one. 

The man looks around the room, and for just a moment, he meets Jean's eyes. He looks at her, then Marion, then ducks his head. The man he's standing next to–as fair as he is dark–glances over and beams. 

"Oh, now there's a handsome I can enjoy without guilt," Marion says and swishes her skirt. 

Jean wants to kick the back of her foot again, but then the blonde and the other one are coming over, though the dark-haired one looks desperately like he wants to be somewhere else. 

"Ladies, how do you do? I'm Joseph Payne, and this is my friend Harry Crosby."

"I'm Marion," Marion says. "And this is my little sister, Jean."

"Oh, don't call me that," Jean says, rolling her eyes. "You know I hate that."

"Youngest?" Joseph asks. 

"Unfortunately," Jean says. 

Joseph chuckles. "Yeah, me, too. Harry here has two younger sisters, but they like to razz him about being so old."

"Oh?" Jean asks, looking at Harry, who has managed to lift his head and meets her gaze. "How much older are you?"

"Ten and eleven years," Harry says. He has a nice voice. Warm and friendly but not with the slow drawl of Joseph. "My parents always wanted me to have siblings, but I'm not so sure I'd have agreed if they'd asked me." His smile softens the joke, affection clear on his face. "Nah, I don't mean that. They're all right."

"I've got two sisters and three brothers," Joseph says as Jean thinks how sweet Harry must be if he can't even hold a pretend grudge against his sisters. "We are, as I'm sure you figured out, a farm family." 

"Oh, what do you farm?" Marion asks, and Jean shakes her head as Marion steps closer to Joseph and slips an arm into the crook of his elbow. "I'm studying agriculture. I love farming."

Joseph looks at Marion's hand at his elbow, then glances at Harry and Jean. "Well, I'll tell you whatever you'd like while we get punch for all of us if you don't mind helping."

"Not at all," Marion says, and she makes her skirt swish again as she and Joseph turn towards the refreshment table. 

Jean wishes she could stick out her tongue, but she holds it back. She looks at Harry again, who's watching Joseph and Marion walk away with an amused smile on his face. "I should warn you, she isn't actually studying agriculture," she says. "She just says she's studying something a boy's mentioned so she has something to ask questions about."

Harry looks at her and looks amazed. "Wow, that's a neat trick," he says.

"Is it?" Jean asks. She thinks it is, but the other times she's told boys the truth, they've found it dishonest or rude.

"I, um," Harry glances over Jean's shoulder for a moment, then looks her in the eyes again. "I overthink," he says in a low tone like it's some terrible secret. "Especially at stuff like this where you don't know anyone except the fellas you showed up with and need to be able to say something nice to a pretty girl so maybe she'll say yes to a dance later."

Jean feels her face heat up. "Is that why you looked away when you spotted me?" she asks. "You were nervous?"

Harry screws up his face, and Jean giggles when he nods slowly. "That's why Bubbles dragged me over here. He knew if he made the move, I'd get it together."

"Bubbles?"

"Oh! Joey. Um. Joseph," Harry says, then huffs. "He introduced himself as Joseph, right?" 

"Uh-huh," Jean agrees. "Does he not go by it at all?"

"His parents call him Joseph, but no one on base does," Harry says. "He's either Joey or Bubbles or Payne." 

"Payne or a pain?" Jean asks.

Harry beams, and Jean thinks very, very hard about not wanting to fall into a cliche. "Both, when he's your best friend," Harry says. "And he is mine." His face screws up again. "Oh, that's not fair of me. I'm probably the bigger pain."

"I don't think that's true," Jean says. "You seem really nice, Harry."

He blushes again, and she wants to lean in and kiss his warm cheek. "Well, you seem really nice, too, Jean."

"Marion will tell you I'm the meanest person she knows, but I'm also the younger sister, so…"

"Do you tease her about being old?"

Jean grins and glances over to the refreshment table. Marion and Joseph are still in line. Marion's saying something that Joseph is nodding along with. She looks back at Harry, and he's watching her with a bashful sort of affection that makes her heart thump hard. "I probably will now," she says. "But I'll blame it on you for telling me your sisters do it to you."

The bashful affection shifts to something a bit more openly appreciative, and Jean shifts her feet so her skirt swishes a little. It's not as impressive as Marion's swishes, but Harry stares at the movement like it's the best skirt swish he's ever seen. 

"Jean, would you dance with me?" he asks, holding out one hand. 

Jean takes his hand and lets him pull her to the dance floor. He holds her at a respectable distance, and they dance the last half minute of the fast song the band is playing. When they switch immediately into a slow song, Harry's cheeks go pink again. Jean feels herself smile, and she tucks her hand behind his neck, pulling him closer. 

Maybe falling for the handsome boy in uniform isn't the bad cliche she thought it was, she thinks as Harry ducks his head and presses his cheek to her hair for the briefest moment. Maybe this cliche could be really nice.

[es0-terica]

this is my submission to last month's prompt ('runaway') for the nowhere girl collective! it didn't get selected but i still quite like it so here it is :)

THE SNAKE EATS THE COW

The wheat scratches at my legs, raising thin red lines along my skin, but I keep on marching, feet beating down on the cracked brown earth like the sun beating down on my scalp.

When I was younger, I used to lie with my cheek pressed to the dirt and imagine how deep those cracks went. Down, down into the mantle, where glowing rocks roil. My heart thrummed with fear at the thought. Mother would pull me up by my collar and scold me for dirtying my dress or messing my hair and drag me home by the wrist. Mother warned me of a fiery place where bad girls go, and I’d lay awake at night as Marion slept, dread seeping through the sheets as I pictured  myself there, beneath the scorched Earth’s fractures.

I dare not to look down into the cracks now. I can only, only look ahead. Straight in front of me, shoes thumping against the ground. I’m heading for the treeline, where the gold breaks into green and there’s shadow to take cover in. The heat is unbearable, and I can feel rivulets of sweat running down my back.

The heat reminded me of last summer, sweating through my black dress. It felt wrong, I had thought, sweating at a funeral. I hadn’t been able to shake that feeling of wrongness. It clung like a film around me, dulling each sense just a little. First with Father, then with Marion, and I wandered the world in a haze. Billie cried back then too, held on Mother’s lap, though she couldn’t have known. Mother didn’t cry, her face was as grim and resolute as always. The only change I’d ever seen in her expression was the lit flame of fury behind her eyes when I or Marion had been bad.

I fight the urge to crane my neck and look back at the house, Billie squirming and fussing in my arms. I never know how to handle her, not like Marion did, but I try. Without slowing my march, I shoulder my duffel bag (as I whirled around the house packing, I’d grabbed some tins of formula, a couple changes of clothes, and the few shillings I’d managed to save up) and, with a gentleness that doesn’t come naturally, try to arrange her flailing limbs into an easier shape to hold.

I stepped over the threshold, scanning the room for Marion. At the far end of the ward, I saw her, waving at me with her free hand, and cradling the slimy, pink infant with the other. Through her exhaustion, she smiled, and her brown eyes shone softly under the harsh hospital lights as she told me the baby’s name, “Sybil” she whispered, “Billie for short”. Mother strode into the

room then, and bundled up the baby briskly, bouncing her up and down, telling Marion to sleep, to rest, ignoring her quiet pleas that she was alright, she just wanted to hold her a little longer. I squeezed her hand then, and in that stretch of silence as Mother whirled around the room busying herself, I sat with Marion and looked on helplessly.

Billie almost slips out of my arms in the effort, and I stop walking after a moment of hesitation. Ignoring the tightness in my chest and knowing that every spare second spent out in the open put us in more and more danger, I put my bag on the ground and pull out my scarf, now tangled amongst the scant possessions I had thought to bring. With Billie wobbling unsteadily on my hip, I wrap the fabric around her methodically, binding her to me and enveloping her arms and legs as I’d watched Mother do a hundred times. I hold my breath but, after a second, she goes still and lays her head against my shoulder. Carefully, deliberately, with a measured exhale, I start again to walk, slowly at first but then, sensing no stirring from the infant swaddled against me, I quicken my strides back up to a march. I steal a glance backwards ��� from this vantage point on the crest of the hill, I can still see the house over the ears of wheat, which means anyone inside can still see me. I have no idea when Mother will get back, if she isn’t there already, and so I have to keep on moving forwards.

I can picture it vividly, though I try to push the thought from my mind. Mother’s hand twitching at the curtain, her wide eyes burning into my back. She’d toss her brown coat over her arm, stride across the field in her sensible shoes and drag me home by the wrist. I’d never be allowed to leave my room again.

I shake my head, as if to shake the image free from my thoughts. My path breaks into empty dirt now, where the wheels of the tractor have crushed the crop circling the edge of the field. A few more hurried steps, and I feel the cool shadow of the trees envelop me. I allow myself a moment to catch my breath, just a moment, as I pant and try to slow my pounding heart. The scarf wrapped around me starts to slacken, as Billie’s restless limbs start to move again without the rhythmic lull of movement to soothe her, but I don’t notice it as I take in the surroundings. Pale tree leaves allow only a smattering of pure sunlight to reach me, filtering the rest into a warm, greenish glow.

Marion poked me in the shoulder and pointed at her page. On it was an illustration of a snake writhing amongst lush grasses, bulging horribly at its centre.

“Look, Frances. It’s eaten a whole cow,” she smirked, eyes glinting.

“Marion! That’s disgusting!” I turned away from the book, frowning.

“It’s not disgusting!” she said, voice suddenly low and serious “It’s nature. It has to eat something.” She paused as I looked back at her, unconvinced. “It’s quite clever really. It has to unhinge its jaw first, in preparation. Then after it’s… done” I wrinkled my nose, and she mercifully spared me the grisly details “It’ll sit there for a few days digesting, then it’s all fed.” Marion sighed, unsatisfied with my lack of enthusiasm, and turned back to her book. “Sometimes you have to eat the cow, Frances. You have to do something hard, something necessary, and then it’s done, and you’re glad.” I watched her then for a long moment as I let her words spin around my mind. I didn’t know then, but she was six weeks pregnant at the time. She had told Mother first, who made her swear not to speak it to another soul until she could no longer hide it. I should’ve known earlier. Mother’s temper was shorter than ever, and Marion did all she could to make herself scarce. I should’ve known.

The makeshift carrier falls away in a knot of fabric, and the baby squirms, now free to flail and kick at me. Mother never showed me how to tie it right. As I clamber awkwardly on the floor and grasp at the dirt to pick the scarf up, Billie begins to scream. Loud mournful wails that echo through the leaves. I’m sure Mother can hear it from the house, I’m sure of it.

In Marion’s last days, gripped by fever, she lay in bed watching Mother with Billie, hot tears flowing silently. She didn’t have the strength to say it, but as she faded away, I knew Marion was begging me to leave, take Billie away. Eat the cow. And so, I unhinged my jaw, and I lay in wait. When she was gone, Mother would feed and change Billie mostly in silence, sparing sharp words only to chide me, but leave her lonely in the crib to bawl all night. All I could do was press my palms to my ears as I tried in vain to sleep, save my shillings and bide my time.

Trying to block out the noise, I bow my head and focus on the dirt and branches below. Maybe the ground underneath me will be torn in two, and I’ll be pulled down screaming into the fire like Mother always said I deserved. As Billie pauses her cries to take a breath, I suddenly seize her with the crooks of my thumbs under her armpits and hold her up at arm’s length, her white-stockinged legs hanging limply, hovering above the earth below. She’s never been a very pretty baby, I think, regarding her too-big forehead and ruddy cheeks blotched from crying. She’s stopped screaming altogether now, and instead looks at me intently, confused. Waiting for me to do something, anything.

I never could see her how Marion did, who would sit with her chin resting on the crib and reach down to touch her nose or pinch a rosy cheek. I never saw her how Mother did either, who fed and changed her with the same mechanical precision she applied to every chore. Father never got to meet her.

Billie’s eyebrows furrow, troubled by my inaction and, for a moment, I think she is about to scream again, and I can’t take it anymore, I can’t do it. What have I done? What am I doing? And yet it’s quiet. Save the wind through the leaves and distant birdsong, Billie is quiet, smiling at me, brown eyes shining. Smiling at me. She reaches out towards me, pink fingers outstretched. It takes me so much by surprise that I laugh aloud and clutch her close to my chest, feeling the soft blonde wisps as my palm cups her head. Just past the trees, I can see the cars rolling by. I feel the gentle weight of the threepence bus fare in my pocket and let myself smile.

Out in the city, we’ll be two amongst many, sharing the streets with fashionable young men and women, and people heading off to work. I’ll get a job as a clerk, or a factory worker and find somewhere for us to live. I can’t suppress grinning at how much Mother would disapprove. We’ll make it, somehow.

[gilded-gheists]

Seeing as campaign two is twenty years after the end of the first one, is it unlikely for Marion/The Ruby to have known about Vorugal's keep and hold on what was Draconia? As a very close main city, surely Nicodranas would have known about the dragon being there, and by extension, Marion would have.

Although probably not one of the reasons (was the reason for her agoraphobia stated? there doesn't need to be a reason to have agoraphobia obviously but I'm curious as I'm halfway through CR2 and just skimmed her wiki to check) for her agoraphobia, it would make sense that, perhaps she was either in her early 20's (to make her around 40) or perhaps a child (to make her in her 20's/30's) when news of Vorugal taking over the area spread to Nicodranas, as it was certainly a place of territory, hell they even let him hunt sea beasts so who's to say Nicodranas citizens haven't seen ice crackle across the ocean? Perhaps she's seen such things. Perhaps such an event, the close threat, was enough to form agoraphobia in her? Or maybe she's just lived with it her whole life and I'm creating a theory out of thin air.

This is just a loose thing I thought was neat as I'm watching CR1 and remembered Draconia is in Wildemount and all whilst watching episode 64.

(spoilers to disprove the theory or to add to it as a headcanon are fine! I've spoiled myself on the whole story, my memory is just REALLY shit-)

[circuslollipop]

This may have been asked before but please tell us about the Tealeaf triplet AU!

ooooh i'd be super happy to!! so i'm not the only person with this kind of au, but i'm sure that every person's will be different, and mine is no exception!

so. threeleaf au. i'm not sure whether to make it so that they're all biological triplets from the beginning, or that the wildmother's blessing in ep 140 gave three different rebirths: a chance for lucien to live without the somnovum, a second chance for molly to continue living his life to the fullest, and a third soul getting a fresh start

both would offer different dynamics: the first, an established sibling dynamic with all the hijinks and ease and comfort and protectiveness of three triplets who knew each other their entire lives. the second, a sense of having to get to know and get used to each other.

honestly the way i think of them i'm leaning towards siblings from the get-go, as i like to think of them with an established sibling dynamic already. lucien is the eldest, followed by molly and kingsley

i mainly focus on the post-campaign aspect of this, where all three siblings join fjord and jester on their sailing adventures. hilarity ensues

kingsley is a natural sailor. the other two are not. molly is happy to be with friends though, and lucien admits that it's a lot better than other alternatives

jestermauk is a thing in this because it's my au and i choose the ships (fjord and jes either break up amicably or they just never get together)

also thinking about making fjord/kingsley a thing. you get a tealeaf! and YOU get a tealeaf!!

in that case both lucien and molly give fjord their own shovel talks. (sidenote imagine getting a shovel talk from lucien. talk about TERRIFYING)

as i mentioned, marius gets the very wrong idea one day that lucien is a vampire. lucien is annoyed at first but then begins to "humor" him

orly gives them all tattoos. molly gets a chaos crew tat and a gem tat with imagery of the m9, kingsley gets some cool sea themed ones, and lucien gets a really small one on his hand or something. maybe of a butterfly (one of those butterflies with eyes on their wings maybe?)

jester is of course VERY happy to practice tattooing on them, mainly molly is willing to be her practice canvas

of COURSE they all get captain tusktooth tattoos. kingsley's is on his shoulderblade, lucien's is on his other hand, and molly's......let's just say it's on his lower back

marion adopts them all

kingsley tries to get the other two to come up with their own pirate names, with mild success

"no one knows what a nonagon is; it's not gonna strike fear!"

both molly and lucien are super protective of king; even though he's two minutes younger than molly, king is the baby of the trio and therefore gets away with a lot

that being said they do squabble quite a bit

jester is super happy to be surrounded by other tieflings

so. many. hijinks. this is about all i can think of but i'll maybe add to this when i can think of more stuff!

[snarky-art]

My enchantix redesigns that I’ve had laying around for a while. I’m going through my computer to try and clear up space and came across some winx stuff. I haven’t done the wings for them still to this day in any finalized way because they are very intimidating to me lmao. Some info here on how enchantix outfits and fairy outfits work as well as the inspirations for the clothes for each of the characters below! I’m going to include some more individual design notes from my sketchbook later too.

In my version of the winx redo, all fairy transformations have to do with a sense of self to an extent. The more sure and secure of oneself one is, the more likely certain parts of the outfits are to carry over to the other transformations. For example: I have multiple transformations for Daphne that I’ve done, but there are a lot of traits carried over in the designs (her tirar, her color scheme, cut of cloth, etc) since she was always very self assured in who she was. She was Marion and Oritel’s daughter, future queen of Domino, and the keeper of The Dragon Flame and she was going to become as strong as she could for her people and the universe so she could use The Dragon Flame as best as possible. (I swear I’ll upload her stuff at some point they’ve been collecting dust for literal years now sskdjkjfla).

The same can’t really be said of the girls here, and that’s fine too. Aisha is the one with the most confidence in who she is and that shows here in the carrying over of her metal accents (arm bands, a metal ring at her waist, albeit with a jewel in it this time) and the cloth that goes across her chest and wraps around her waist.

Another thing that can influence the appearance of a fairy transformation is closeness with another individual. Aisha at this point already knows she likes Musa (I’m going to upload a post after this going more in depth on their relationship in my version) and her double buns are influenced by that since that’s one of the main ways Musa likes to style her hair (she also helped Aisha really perfect how to do the hairstyle and as that was one of the first thigs Aisha ever really did with a friend after Anne left when she was young and not including the pixies, so it holds a lot of sentimental value to her. Musa was the one who went out of her way a LOT more than anyone else to try and get Aisha comfortable with everything. The other girls did too of course but Musa just kind of gets how it feels to be alone more than they do so they really understood each other.) Musa in turn also has armbands like Aisha and some cloth hanging from the tie around her waist in a way similar to the cloth trail around Aisha’s.

Bloom also has similar armor to Stella because of this, since Stella is Bloom’s closest friend out of the 6 and is the one who introduced her to magic and what it can mean to be a fairy.

Enchantix in itself works basically the same as it does in the show, and as the main focus of it is to save someone from your planet so you can become a guardian of it (there can be multiple guardians for a homeworld too. I always thought it was weird that it was implied there can only be one. The guardian fairies of a planet act as a protective council of sorts. They are expected to place the priority of protecting life on the planet above all else and sometimes align themselves with royalty as advisors for things if they it is requested of them by the royalty, but they are expected to be willing to break ties with any allegiance if the leader is doing things that upset the balance of the planet and enact cruelty, not that guardians have always done that in the past). As a result, it is tied closely to the culture of their homeworld, or the culture that the fairy is from if the planet doesn’t have a largely homogenous one.

Musa is based off of Chinese and Japanese culture, which is a really broad statement I know since there is so much that goes into those countries, but I tried my best to have it line up with the clothes she wears in the show and it seemed to be similar to that (and obviously her homeplanet is clearly inspired by Asia). Similar to what her original skirt seemed to be, the pants are inspired by paper lanterns, and the upper shirt part is inspired by the tops of dresses during the late tang dynasty. The design of the belt she has, although I didn’t really do a close up of it, is braided similarly to shimenawa (a rope used in ritual purification in the Shinto religion). She has an open lotus blossom that her hair is in the middle of that holds her buns in place and her makeup is based off of the Tang Dynasty and the little hair piece she has acting as her tiara thing (all the girls had one so I tried to carry that over) is based off of Quing dynasty hair styles specifically but like, similar hairstyles were used in other eras too I just liked those specifically.

Flora’s is based off of Mexican style clothes. The top part is based off of Folklorico dresses and the petal style I used for it is based off of marigold petals, which are used to lead deceased loved ones to the families shrine during Day of the Dead. Her makeup is also based off of designs seen on calaveras. Her head piece is a flower crown which is now a common staple seen in women’s fashion during festivals due to Freda Kahlo and her hair is divided into two parts. The upper part is pulled back into a braid that has a vine weaved in with it, which I took inspiration from hairstyles down there that thread ribbon into the braids.

Aisha’s was a trip to figure out. So her homeplanet really is,, something. There’s some middle eastern influence (her name is also Arabic), her mom and her when she was younger wore some 1500s style renaissance clothes, and also they have a shaman that seems to be based off of African medicine men, and then also there are mermaids wearing European style armor, so I had to do some looking around to figure out what I wanted to do here. In the end I went with Moroccan and Zulu style clothing overall with a few other influences as well and tried to mesh them together. The headpiece and the sash/hood are based off of women’s head dresses in Morocco and the facepaint, arm and leg bands are based off of traditional Zulu attire. Cowrie shells are on the bottom of the leg and arm bands as they are used in Zulu attire in the same place as well sometimes, but also because a lot of African cultures see cowries as being representative as gateways to the spirit world (a lot of cultures have the spirit world and afterlife tied to the ocean). Her stack of necklaces are based off of the necklaces worn by the people Ndebele people of South Africa. Her shorts and top are rimmed with silver and the shape of the attire itself is meant to be athletic and practical for her. It is covered in fish scales. Her ears are a different color here than they were in her winx transformation also. That isn’t an enchantix thing but a biology thing I have made up in my head for Androsian people. The fins start off a light shade and then over time settle into a darker color, which is what it will permanently be.

Tecna’s outfit is ready for the cold. For the longest time we didn’t know anything about her homeworld except that it was cold, so, anyway Russia and Siberia lmao. The green lines on her body suit have light moving through them also which I just thought was a neat idea because technology is a thing. Her glasses aren’t a permanent part of the outfit also. They come out if she wants to concentrate her magic to do something very technical and intense. I thought it would be a nice way to carry over that faceshield thing she sometimes used in her winx form. Her physical features btw are based off of the Nenets people of Siberia.

Stella’s outfit is Greek based because I’m not original and I don’t know why almost all of us collectively agreed Solaria is Greco-Roman but we sure did do it. Maybe it’s because of the word Sol being in it.

Bloom’s is just,, European lol. Domino is a Renaissance Era place it feels like (probably because of her mom’s ermine stoat cape). So there. There are some similarities of hers with Daphne’s inadvertently (family ties can influence things sometimes too, which can be seen in the Bloom and Daphne comparison sheet on my blog), but Bloom doesn’t know that. When Daphne eventually does see her in her enchantix outfit during the time of or before the movie (which does happen in my version but with a LOT of changes. Daphne still talks to Bloom though and helps out like in the movie) you bet your bottom she takes a second to collect herself (happy to see the bond is strong enough that it did manifest physically in a way, sad because she remembers what it was like to once have that transformation and the general bittersweet longing for the time before shit hit the fan. I have so much stuff about Daphne I need to upload some of it soon).

So yeah! Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk:)

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Waterfront City Guide - Chapter 17

Translation of chapter 17 of the event ‘Waterfront City Guide’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Gast: The only clear difference for you between me and Ren is who’s younger and who’s older, right?

Gast: With how the team’s formed, there might be a reason as to why age wouldn’t matter but… it’s only natural you wouldn’t know how to go ‘bout it

Gast: It’s the first time you’re a mentor too, and the idea of being in charge of a mentee older than you is some kinda hardcore mode

Marion: T-that’s….

Gast: Yeah, you’re doing good

Marion: …..?

Gast: When I got admitted to Helios and met you… No, reunited I guess. And since then till today, there’s been many things I've thought about, and...

Gast: I straight up respect you as a hero, and as a mentor.

Marion: …….

Gast: It wouldn’t work out to force yourself to change what feels out of place

Gast: That’s why you don’t have to go out of your way to change anything….. Honestly, guidin’ us as you would so far is more than enough

Gast: I’d never, ever think any less or make fun of you

Gast: If anything, wouldn’t mind if you took advantage of me being older than you, in comparison to Ren, y’know?

Gast: That kinda relationship between mentor and mentee has to be possible too, right

Marion: ……..

Gast: Though in the case you’ll gentle with me, that’d make me totally happy…. Juuuust kidding~♪

Marion: ...I refuse.

Gast: Wha….

Marion: It’s fine to keep things the way they are, no….? Besides, it’s not about whether I’d be nice to Ren and then not to you.

Gast: Goddamnit, here I was thinking you’d listen to me with how this was going...

Marion: Haah…

Marion: I don’t intend of rushing in and suddenly changing, but I’ll consider things a bit more my way

Marion: ….With using what you told me now as a reference, that is.

Gast: …!

Gast: Go ahead. Feel free to come to me whenever if there’s any kinda advice you want♪

Marion: You… Hadn’t Ren told you about how you should think more about your behaviour?

Gast: Uh-oh….  that’s right. I have to keep an eye out to not meddle too much

Marion: Good grief….

Gast: Ahaha….

Marion: Right…. Supposing you’d like to know anything about your mother, I wouldn’t mind asking Nova about it

Marion: Obviously he wasn’t in the position to be in charge of the research division yet but, it’s very likely he remembers something about fellow colleagues that shared the same post.

Gast: Ooh… Thanks for lookin’ out for me

Gast: I’m good. It’s how I said earlier, I’ve completely given up on it by now

Marion: ……

Gast: Wh-what….?

Marion: No, nothing?

Marion: I’ll leave it as it is then. I won’t be asking any further about this---

[nileqt87]

More thoughts on how to resurrect the Indiana Jones franchise post-Harrison Ford

Perhaps a proper, modern television show would be a good way to bring back a younger, but adult Indy (with perhaps flashbacks littered throughout). You can also get away with a lot more content (definitely aim for TV-14) and characters who are allowed to be flawed. Relationship dramas are serialized storytelling's forte in a way that is disappearing more and more from blockbuster films. Complicated characters are better left to television, as the audience expects and allows for it because of the nuance and depth the serialization affords. The complicated, messy story of Abner and Marion is a story best left to being explored only after the characters have some real complexity and development. It also wouldn't be forced to play to the mass audience of under-13s that makes modern PG-13 often meaningless. In comparison, TV-14 actually pushes up harder against its limits regularly--not just violence, but also with innuendo and sexuality minus nudity. The amount of historical-style, pulpy violence, not to mention potentially comically gruesome deaths, in Indy would also necessitate the rating. Indiana Jones might be niche enough at this point with an audience veering towards adults who grew up with it (Gen-X and the older end of Gen-Y), while Gen-Z has little awareness of it, that Disney wouldn't be forced to make it a total kiddie property. It's not the same situation as back in the early '90s with Young Indy being aimed at older kids who had recently seen Last Crusade in the theater. They could reboot it for television with a young adult Indy who potentially could grow into a fully adult version. And I wouldn't try too hard to not step on the trilogy's toes with the timeline. Just let it live in its own developing continuity.

Use of long-running supporting cast (parents, Remy and returning guest stars aside) would also be a big difference from Young Indy. Characters like Belloq (could potentially go from friend to antagonist, akin to how Smallville handled Lex), Sallah, Henry, Brody, Abner, Marion, etc... could actually be around a lot more than just for an adventure here or there. These are all characters Indy had clearly known for years. Actually put the show into a seasonal, serialized format that isn't a new cast every episode. You could also stick around in locations a lot longer this way, which would help with budget.

Another thought I've had since watching an absolute ton of fantasy/sci-fi dramas in the last few years is that the influence of Indiana Jones is actually pretty apparent in a number of pretty famous characters, sometimes overtly and sometimes a bit more subtly. Harrison, Indy or Raiders in general are outright name-checked in quite a few places, often by scrappy action hero types who tend to take hard beatings (the kinds of characters who should've died a hundred times over) while in situations they're way over their heads in or literally impossible odds they can't win. Like Indy, the intended prize isn't won at the end and, outside of a few gruesome baddie deaths, the shady, corrupt or evil barely get a dent. Fox Mulder and Dean Winchester are two characters who name-check the comparison overtly and you can see the writers and actors both having the influence in mind. It's obviously a male fantasy, too. The influence on The X-Files and Supernatural is definitely there. Supernatural is chock full of biblical MacGuffins (not to mention having angels and demons as most of its recurring supporting cast), so it would be a hard comparison to avoid. Raiders came up in the WWII Nazi submarine episode with a piece of the Ark onboard (it's subsequently a show to raid for Indy ideas, because they pretty much mined everything biblical), for example. The X-Files likewise was dealing with shady government officials and pretty blatantly copied the huge warehouse of government secrets loaded with alien relics (and then repeated the Cigarette Smoking Man's warehouse reveal with the tunnel of filing cabinets stretching on forever). Mulder was also very much a one-man army a lot of the time when it came to the alien conspiracy (no offense to Scully). Moments like him climbing/riding the tops of sky rides, trains and escaping the spaceship were total Indy-esque moments. Sam and Dean had literal God-tier levels of plot armor keeping them alive (repeated resurrections included). Angel is another one that, unlike Mulder and the Winchesters being very human, is a supernatural character (subsequently his level of pain tolerance and durability is at the level of regular impalement, defenestration out of skyscrapers and being set on fire), but the comparison still holds because of how often he's getting decimated and fighting forces way beyond his pay grade. Wolfram & Hart, the Shanshu and seeking redemption with the Powers that Be, like the mytharc conspiracy/alien takeover and literal God a.k.a. Chuck, is another endless, unwinnable fight that is so far beyond all the protagonists that there's no win/happily ever after and they'd be lucky just walking away from it with nothing. Angel also name-checks Indy with a blatantly Indy-inspired fantasy dream episode (Awakening in season 4) with Angelus making a crack about the Raiders fantasy. George Lucas actually visited the Angel set back in 2000 and was interested in how they were making mini movies every week and doing some pretty huge stunts on television. David Boreanaz had lunch with Lucas and has talked about it a few times over the many years. I mean, these are all shows starring action-oriented leading men and writing staffs of relatively similar age. Mostly Gen-X males with a few Baby Boomers (more so on the writing staff) with an audience that's primarily Gen-Y but appealing to a pretty broad age range (and probably a lot more female than originally intended!). Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Harrison Ford films in general were very formative to that generation. Harrison Ford is the ultimate leading man action star to a certain generation. Gen-Y got their familiarity with all of that by being the original home video/VHS generation and subsequently a lot more familiar with retro media (including things that were made before they were born or around that time) than Gen-Z. '80s movies have a lot of currency and familiarity still with Gen-Y, even if Baby Boomers were the stars of them and Gen-X were the ones who saw them in theaters. Gen-Y fangirls absolutely dominate the fandoms of many iconic television supernatural/sci-fi franchises (many are admittedly aging franchises). The WB/CW have catered to this group of fans for the last two and a half decades. If you're going to be reviving the character as a mid-20s-to-30s version (if the show lasts long enough, it probably will be stepping on the trilogy's toes timeline-wise by the end), I'd absolutely be aiming for this same audience and their tastes. They're also the audience who would be most receptive to and familiar with the character, IMO. If I were going to reinvent Indiana Jones for the television landscape, I would definitely be looking at those sorts of shows that have influence from the character already in their DNA. I think for the target audience, they'd definitely need to be aiming it at the same fanbases. Young Indy mostly tried to avoid stepping on Raiders' toes (despite Temple of Doom and Mask of Evil already making it ludicrous) by limiting the amount of supernatural elements, but I think a show would have to go all in on it. Indy would have to be transformed a bit in regards to trying to line him up with a character who would still be skeptical after all he's seen. Young Indy ended up forced into being a straight period drama with educational elements, which is very counter to what the audience wanted. There are things to keep from that approach (meeting historical persons, being a WWI veteran and witnessing history could absolutely be mined as backdrops to the stories), but the supernatural elements would have to exist in a revival now to get the audience who I think would be most receptive to it. While I would aim for a serialized drama format that would mean the globetrotting wouldn't have to completely change locations every episode (have it instead in arcs with some bigger MacGuffins and baddies perhaps crossing entire seasons), it's true that there would probably have to be more location filming than good, ol' Vancouver, but Disney is one of the few who could afford it (though Covid certainly would throw a wrench in it and political situations could potentially kill off certain locations). There's only so much green screen that Indy could get away with, though I imagine that a fair amount of it would have to be used for period piece reasons alone. There are a lot of modern intrusions even in historically-intact cities (Eastern Europe comes to mind as having a lot of its architecture intact and is affordable to film in) and around iconic landscapes to paint out. But at its core, it probably would need to bulk up its focus on the relationship dramas. Indy tends to have a girl at every port and to a degree you would introduce some of these love interests, but there's still a lot of relationships of every kind that could be developed and serialized. Certainly throw in a few femme fatales and tragic losses, given the Smallville-esque situation of there being an inevitable Indy/Marion endgame that should be kept--it thus becomes about the journey when it's a set conclusion. Absolutely have a strong recurring cast of Henry and friends new and old. The films actually have a lot of characters that Indy didn't just meet yesterday and could be developed to a huge extent. For a show to work now, there'd have to be a lot more connectivity to how often the recurring cast appear. Young Indy had a lot more of an anthology format with little chance of us getting attached to most of the revolving cast outside of a very tiny few. That's the biggest thing I'd change. You need characters to become regulars beyond just Indy if it were revived for modern cinematic television (the true successor to the film serials of the '30s!) in a way that isn't necessary for film installments.

[lexa-lives-in-us]

*slams glass onto floor* ANOTHER PLEASE OF THE UNDERCOVER AU, ITS P E R F E C T I O N

The Ruby of the Sea comes back throughout the show to sing two more times, one at the halfway point and one at the end, to close it. Dairon remains glued to their seat, nursing another drink with their mind lost in thoughts. That woman is dangerous, that much they know.

The real problem is, they don’t know how much.

Throughout the various performances, Dairon counts thirteen vibrations to their cellphone and four to their wristwatch before they decide to switch both of them off. They have no idea how Beauregard has obtained all their contact, but they’re going to keep avoiding their protege like the fucking plague.

Unfortunately, the exact moment the lights turn back on, Beauregard appears out of thin air, and Dairon regrets teaching her so well. Yasha trails behind them with ease and tranquillity, and Dairon resigns themselves to a conversation.

“Bro, what the everloving fuck was that?!”

Dairon shoots a glare at Beauregard. They’ve noticed a few people already glancing in the general direction of where they are and they wish Beauregard didn’t gather that much attention.

“Agent Lionett, I am still your superior, for all intent and purposes, and I would gladly appreciate it if you stopped calling me ‘bro’.” they grit through their teeth.

Beauregard reaches behind her, and Yasha grabs her hand.

Disgusting.

“Alright, what the fuck was that, dude?!”

Dairon wishes glares could kill, but they instead roll their eyes. They notice a couple more people staring at Beau and Yasha.

“Can you please lower your voice? You two stick out like sore thumbs on any occasion, but this is too much attention for my liking.”

Beauregard cackles. She actually cackles.

“Wow. Alright, Mix, I thought you were better at this, but you must be getting old.”

Dairon’s fingers itch to slam a fist onto Beauregard’s face, but instead they decide to interact with the less manic half of the Lionett-Nydoorin couple.

“What does she mean, exactly?”

Yasha shrugs, wrapping one arm around Beau’s waist. Beauregard immediately leans in.

“The Ruby of the Sea generally doesn’t interact with the public that closely.” Yasha explains, softly. “She greets the audience, but no one is allowed to touch her. But everyone could see the first row, so... They’re not looking at us. They’re looking at you.”

Dairon glances around, and it only takes her a few seconds to realize Yasha is right. People are whispering around them, at their tables, but this is not the kind of attention Dairon wants. They’re here undercover, for fuck’s sake.

They make a move to get up, but Beau’s hand on their elbow force them back on the chair. The smile is gone from her face.

“Don’t. People are already suspicious enough. Stay just a little longer, we’ll be able to provide a distraction. Believe me, Dairon. There’s more at play than you think.”

Dairon wants to punch Beauregard more times than she doesn’t, but they’re not stupid: Beauregard is good, she’s fucking fantastic at what she does, and trusting her is a decision Dairon has made many times in the past, and has never regretted. So they stay put, and Beauregard pats their arm.

***

They don’t have to wait long, anyway.

The crowd starts murmuring again, and when Dairon looks up from their drink, is to meet the magnetic eyes of the Ruby of the Sea.

It’s brief, because the woman throws herself at Beauregard first and Yasha after, hugging them and kissing them both on the cheeks.

“Oh, my darlings.” she says, with a motherly tone. “How wonderful it is to see you here.”

“Hey, girl.” Beau says with a smile, and Yasha laughs when the Ruby of the Sea has to stand on her toes to kiss her.

Dairon follows the interaction with curious eyes, not understanding how Beauregard and Yasha can be so familiar with this woman.

But she turns to look at them, and Dairon stands, slowly. Once more, the woman in front of her reaches for them with a hand, and once more, Dairon obliges. Only, after she kisses the back of her hand, the Ruby of the Sea doesn’t let go, and takes a step forward.

Their bodies flush together, warm and soft against muscular and lean. The woman looks around, ducking her head and murmuring: “It is a pleasure to see you again, Dairon.”

Dairon’s head turns immediately to look at the other woman, who keeps smiling at her with mischief and warmth.

“Beau and my daughter have told me so much about you.” the woman continues, ignoring the clear panic in Dairon’s face. “But they had failed to tell me how charming you are.”

Beau scoffs.

“Charming? Dairon?!”

Yasha snorts, turning her head to hide a bigger laugh, and Dairon feels a ridiculous blush growing on their features. Their hand is still clutching the other woman’s, and Dairon wants to run, but they can’t bring themselves to let go.

Something, though, something catches their attention.

Beau and my daughter, the woman has said.

Beauregard doesn’t have many friends, and only a couple of them are female. But whereas Veth Brenatto doesn’t have any parent on record, Jester Lavorre, on the other hand...

“Marion Lavorre.” Dairon exhales, and Marion turns to look at her.

Dairon can see the intake of breath, the soft gasp at the sound of her name, and the way Marion blinks when her cheeks flush red.

“Marion.” Dairon repeats, and they don’t miss the way Marion’s tongue quickly darts to wet her lips.

Marion nods, and blinks again, finally releasing Dairon’s hand.

“Beauregard, my darling.” she says to the younger woman. “Would you be a darling and walk me around to greet the regulars?”

Beauregard nods with a gentle, understanding smile, and Dairon wonders what part of the story they’re missing.

Marion looks at them, blue meeting ruby, and lingers for a moment longer.

“I hope to see you later.” she murmurs before walking away.

Dairon stares. They can not to.

They stare as Marion anchors herself to Beau’s arm and walks away, plastering a polite smile on her face that has nothing to do with any of the smiles Dairon’s been gifted with. They’re all very honest, but there’s something missing now.

“Take it from someone who’s ran from the chance of happiness for years.”

Dairon turns to look at Yasha, whose gaze is glued to her wife’s figure.

Dairon has been there through it all. They’ve been at their weddings, too. They don’t think there’s anyone in the whole damn galaxy who could have what those two have.

Beauregard and Yasha quite literally are the definition of soulmates, on Dairon’s internal dictionary.

But whereas Beau is all loud noises and abrasiveness, Yasha is quieter, softer, in a way, when she talks. She also doesn’t talk much, so Dairon knows when to listen.

“Don’t run.” Yasha turns to look at her, and her gaze holds Dairon down. “You are the closest Beau has to a parental figure, so I know how similar you two are. Don’t run, Dairon.”

Dairon is left staring at the bare back of the ridiculously muscular woman, as she saunters away towards the bar. They hear her words and they drink them in.

Then they turn around, and leave the room.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Winx Club Season 6 Thoughts Part 1

I have watched this more than once and even though I have some memories of the ending, I still have no idea what is happening in this season. Now my expectations have been updated to “take what I can get” so that should go better. Also, I will be writing the number of the episode above the section of thoughts that deals with it so that it can be easier to navigate my posts. With that said, let’s get to it:

- Wow, they actually showed Daphne together with the Winx in the intro? Nice. However, I am torn between wanting to move on from Sirenix and despising the fact that I’ll have to suffer through Bloomix and Mythix this season. It’s a lose-lose situation for me.

6x01:

- The Trix now have beef with Daphne as well? And they are going back to the somewhat original plan of the Coven to destroy Domino? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am actually excited about this!

- Did Daphne just try to go through the door? Aww, sweet precious child who has forgotten what it is to have a body. I am in pain for her even though I am happy that she is human again. I do not like the way that Marion and Oritel seem to not grasp the very obvious problem that Daphne is facing, however. I wish we could see their relationship with Daphne but we can’t step aside from Bloom for three seconds. At least they are showing some consequences of everything Daphne has gone and keeps going through.

- If the beast is the most powerful thing in the Magic Dimension, why does it listen to the Trix instead of just eating them before moving on to Domino? And it looked pretty awake without them having to summon it. So yeah, not much sense in this.

- Okay, I can get that Daphne is still getting used to having a body again but her doubting herself does not feel in character to me. She was always the one to tell Bloom to not doubt herself and she never lost faith in anyone from their family even when she spent two decades as a spirit. This is not my Daphne. She would know how to proceed. It’s like they reversed all her wisdom after bringing her back. As if you can’t be wise unless you’re a non-corporeal entity. I don’t like that. And wasn’t she the nymph of Magix? She is now the nymph of Domino. I mean, she could be both, I guess, but the titles are never used simultaneously.

- Why are the Specialists flying on their bikes if the ship is also there? And why is Daphne wearing heels if she has trouble walking?!?!?!?!

- Did Marion do all of the decorations with her magic? I’m just gonna accept that it was her. Also, I am kinda glad that they kept the maids from Magical Adventure. They were well-intentioned even if a little overbearing.

- Yes, Bloom, great way to be empathetic with your sister. Keep telling her about DANCING even though she can’t even walk in a straight line... or any kind of line. They should have waited with the party. And Daphne tripped here because Bloom had stepped on her clothes. It wasn’t her fault. Though, a makeover might be good for her. I am not a fan of the way Stella referred to her as if Daphne is the younger one and needs help (even though she does need help).

- I also don’t like the fact that they are trying to say that Daphne is stuck on who she was which keeps her from becoming who she needs to be in the present. It does not sound like her. But it’s cute that all the Winx are trying to help her. I won’t mind her being a more central part of this season. She has helped them so many times that it would be nice to see them do something for her or even with her.

- Daphne does look nice! Certainly better than Winx in their hideous dresses Won’t we burn those things already?!

- Yeah, Daphne cowering away and hiding at Oritel’s side is definitely not in character. Sorry but she legit gave everything she had to save her sister from the Ancestral Witches even when she knew it would be the end of her.

- Oh, look. They’re using the special Sirenix spells. I can’t believe it.

- Oritel (and Marion) must be so goddamn sick of the Trix and them threatening his family already. And it hasn’t been more than a year since they came back from Obsidian.

- Oh, poor Daphne. I feel so bad for her. But at least she has her family now and they can hold her and help her get through it. Though, I still think this isn’t entirely in character for her. Tritannus tortured her and she refused to tell him anything and she kept fighting even from her cell despite how limited her resources were. Here she hasn’t even tried. They said she didn’t have her powers but we haven’t seen her try to use them and Daphne has always tried until the very last moment.

- Okay, but I hate it when they send them places only for them to realize they had the answer all along.

- Omg, she was gonna sacrifice herself just to not threaten anyone else. This is more like Daphne. But I am so happy that she got her powers back. Even though they really half assed her Sirenix transformation, though I guess that was to be expected. After Roxy (oh, wait, and Diaspro, too), she is the only fairy besides Winx to be given any transformation so I guess they thought that anything would do.

6x02:

- Why is Kiko excited to be back at Alfea? And what the hell are Daphne and Bloom doing there? Daphne should be on Domino and getting reacquainted with politics and economy for when she will be queen and Bloom and the other Winx should probably be in the Love and Pet store. Anywhere, really, but at Alfea. Why are they at Alfea again? *sigh*

- Aww, I love the fact that they are all still wearing the charm bracelets Bloom gave them for Christmas. It’s cute. I am not as much a fan of Stella being as obsessed with fashion as she was in season 5. They made her whole character about that (except the struggle with her parents but that has also been resolved now more or less so...)

- I guess bending down is overrated now. You just use magic instead of any other way of solving problems like picking things up from the floor or making space in a room. And poor Kiko. No one noticed that he got miniaturized.

- The new clothes suck. They look so... same. At least the old outfits still had some personality to them.

- How did Griselda not feel the wave of Stella’s magic? Or notice the... illusion? (I suppose Stella used dispersed light to create the appearance of a normal bedroom instead of the boutique.) At least she noticed Kiko. But ewwww, why did he lick Bloom’s face (and after he was angry with her)? He’s not a dog!!!!! Please, writers.

- Oh, no! The pixies are here. Why did they not only change Tecna and Musa’s pixies, but also the design for Piff? Locket, Amore and Chatta look almost the same but I am so not on board with the very fact that they are all back. The least the writers could have done would have been to keep the old pixies (and designs). (Just, please, tell me that the Winx aren’t students again.)

- Faragonda has been Headmistress of Alfea for 100 years? Yeah, right. Direct contradiction right there. In SotLK Hagen said that when they battled the Coven, they were Winx’ age. So they should be about 50. I just hate this. And Faragonda saying that she doesn’t like celebrating anniversaries because they make her feel old? That feels OOC to me but okay.

- Lmao, dying at that dance between Faragonda and Wizgiz. XDDD

- Griffin sounds like she’s finally turned the education in CT in the right direction. She even asked the elder students to help the freshmen which is nice because we’ve seen her not care about the malice witches exhibited towards each other (which I call bullshit on but still). But with the proving thing? Yeah, okay.

- Obviously Selina and Bloom know each other because Selina is from Earth and we all know that everything that happens on Earth is in Gardenia. Love how Griffin didn’t react to that info, though. Does that mean that there were witches on Earth even when the fairies were trapped? Dammit, writers, develop your damn world!

- How did the pixies even defeat the trolls the first time around? And why the hell did they decide that it was a good idea to imprison them under pixie village? You see, this is why you don’t live over the place you imprisoned your enemies. Because they don’t need to find you if they get free. They are already there.

- Oh, Griffin actually stopped the destruction of Pixie Village? I am surprised. I thought she would just let it go on. I mean, the show hasn’t been all that consistent with her characterization so...

- How the hell is Bloom sensing the other pixies? She isn’t bonded to them. If anything, Locket should be the one being able/unable to trace them.

- I was ready to be majorly pissed at this episode and now I am. It was already annoying me but the Trix defeating Griffin so easily made everything much worse. And like... she didn’t even try to fight them? She could have put up a shield to protect herself from all their attacks and she could have used her ability to fly in order to be more mobile while fighting them but nah. She just got soundly defeated. Amazing. And by amazing, I mean the exact opposite. This was horrible and I hate it.

- So... did the Trix ditch their Sirenix? And where did they get those new powers? Also, why the hell did the other witches join them so easily? I know that most witches must want recognition but some of those witches were there when the Trix nearly killed them both in season 1 and season 2. They at least shouldn’t have joined them. Or even if they’d joined, it should have been just a cover so that they don’t get spelled like Griffin and they could secretly work on taking the Trix down. Oh, yes, and why do the Trix want to take over the other colleges? That somehow doesn’t make sense. They already tried that back at season 1 and it didn’t work out.

- What the hell happened to Cloud Tower being a living being? They just destroyed parts of it but nah, that hasn’t come up yet. I hate this. Also, the fact that Griffin not only got turned into a crow but also hit by a lightning. Poor baby!

- Oh, great! She almost died. Love how it was never addressed what it was like for Griffin not just to be a crow but also unable to help save her school and her witches because she couldn’t even warn the others what was going on.

6x03:

- Why can’t Roxy just grant the crow the ability to talk? We know from season 4 that she can. The dark magic could have prevented that but at least they would know that there is a spell on the crow. And how did Faragonda not feel Griffin? There should be some part of her aura or whatever that hasn’t changed despite the magic in place. Not to mention that Griffin could have tried to show her it was her in some way. The two know each other. Surely if Griffin flew around and pulled out an object that means something to both of them, Faragonda would have started wondering and would have probably figured out what happened. There were so many ways around this but the writers didn’t want contact to be possible because otherwise, it would be over too soon when Winx defeated the Trix.

- Why are the boys at Linphea college now? Also, why doesn’t Brandon know that Sky has a cousin? I guess Thoren doesn’t show up on Eraklyon but does that mean that his whole family has just let go of their ties to the crown? I somehow doubt that.

- Yes, Musa. Destroying all of Alfea with your music will surely cheer up the pixies.

- So why is Miele not in Alfea? That sounds kind of weird. Although, it is possible that she didn’t want to be in Flora’s shadow or in her surveillance the whole time.

- Studies? *groan* Why the fuck are they students again?!?!?! I hate this. But I like the fact that Griselda is back. It’s not the same without her.

- So... not just Bloom, but all the rest of Winx know who Thoren is? But Brandon doesn’t? You know, Brandon who is Sky’s best friend and squire? Yeah, right.

- “Barbaric yell”? Fuck you, too, you “spiritual” snob.

- Is that Nex? Please, tell me it’s not. He seems even worse than Roy. Who is instantly jealous even though he has no right to be since he and Layla aren’t dating. God, I really miss Nabu. He was such a mature and sweet guy. Exactly what Layla needed. (And why is Roy with the Specialists when that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever?)

- Great job, Tecna. Now Helia is probably gonna think that Flora is visiting some old boyfriend. You could have just told him she was seeing her sister. Though, I have to ask where the hell Flora has been all summer if not at home (since she hasn’t seen Miele in so long)? And from her own words it sounds like she hasn’t seen her since season 3 which is just ridiculous.

- You tell him, Layla. Though, that will only make it worse if they get together later because I do not expect the writing to  be clever enough to imply that it was Layla who helped Nex (I presume) get over his pride and superiority complex.

- If Linphea college is so great, why didn’t Flora study there as well? Is it new? It has to be very new in order for that to be the explanation.

- Wait, they actually realized it’s Griffin? But why can she only speak in single words and not whole sentences? Roxy could make Artu talk like a person.

- Yes, they have to tell everyone else because it’s not like Cloud Tower is a whole castle floating in the sky that is probably visible from kilometers.

- Oh, wow. They bothered to give Miele a five-second transformation? I can’t believe it. How very generous of them.

- They actually managed to make the connection between the flying Cloud Tower and the trouble on the ground? I am surprised by their normal level deduction skills.

- Did the Legendarium just negate not only their spell, but also their powers? Wow. That is... actually kinda interesting even though I do not expect it to make a lot of sense when they bother to explain it.

- At least the Specialists caught Winx before they could fall and die. I actually like the fact that they all have to retreat. It was obviously hard on them even though they didn’t have their powers anymore.

- Oh, goodie. It’s Bloomix time. In case someone hadn’t realized that Bloom is sooooo special. She now gets her own transformation. It’s fun how they didn’t even bother explaining how it was possible for the Legendarium to extinguish all their powers.

6x04:

- Well, at least Stella’s enthusiasm can never be extinguished. But yes, just exercise in high heels, why don’t you? I am so sick of them never wearing comfortable shoes. Enough heels already! They need to wear something that is actually suitable for the activity at hand.

- Poor Kiko. At least Stella didn’t break something while pulling that stunt.

- So Thoren and Daphen actually know each other? Why is everyone acting so familiar with everyone else even though they shouldn’t know each other? I hate this. Also, Thoren doesn’t sound all that sincere. I mean, he probably is. It just doesn’t exactly sound like that to me.

- I am sick of them making Stella the most incompetent in everything. You’re telling me that Tecna that is always on her phone and computer is pulling off all the physical exercise with no problem but Stella that can probably run a marathon if there is shopping involved can’t? I am not buying it.

- I am so done with both Roy and Nex. But more with Nex. Roy is kinda jealous which is ridiculous because he isn’t with Layla but Nex is being a fucking asshole and I hate him so much. I really hope he changes if he is going to be with Layla. (He’ll have to. I don’t believe she would ever spare another glance at him if he remains like that and if she does, then the writers have completely ruined her.)

- I wish Daphne would go to the rescue mission as well. She was the one who figured out the whole way to save everyone.

- Miele was doing so well! She was so brave, fighting multiple opponents. She is great! She even has more interesting spells than Flora.

- Wait, basilisks? Aren’t they supposed to be like snakes? These look more like dragons. I know they said flying basilisks but still.

- The petrifying stares are kinda interesting. But we all know that no Winx is gonna get turned to stone so there is still no tension here. Cute Riven and Sky moment, however.

- Seriously? Bloom can withstand a Trix convergence on her own but Griffin couldn’t? Yeah, makes total sense. I have said this already but if Winx are obviously stronger than the teachers, why not just make them directors of the schools and be done with it? It’s not like anyone else is getting anything done anyway.

- Awww, Stella did the flip! Nice!

- That basilisk totally could have petrified Flora and the other fairies but, of course, it didn’t even try. Like I said, no fucking stakes whatsoever.

- Didn’t they already deal with the tree... whatever the hell they are (I am too lazy to check how you write that and, honestly, this show does not deserve the effort)? Why are there more? Also, she totally did not need to save Miele from falling because Miele has wings. She could have just went back into flight and Flora could have earned her Bloomix just for saving her from the tree thing.

- Okay, the Bloomix spells look better actually. I hope. Otherwise, this will really get on my nerves.

- Why weren’t the Linphea fairies using their wings? That could have saved them from being petrified. I think in flight it would be easier to dodge the rays than it would be while you’re running AND HAVING YOUR BACK TURNED ON THE BASILISKS. BECAUSE THAT IS FUCKING SMART.

- And talking about smart, Roy was an absolute idiot. He could have just whisked Layla away while he was on his hoverbike and been done with it. He didn’t have to get in front of her and get turned into stone. And what does Nex do? His sudden care for Roy made him all stupid as well and he got himself petrified too. Great fucking job! I see how amazing you are in your supposed area of expertise.

6x05:

- Aww, I love the way Stella pulled Layla out of danger. I am really starting to ship this. Could have gone without Layla asking her if she remembered the flip since she obviously did as Stella performed it just a couple of minutes earlier (but it was in the last episode so they have to even give a flashback!) but it was cute that they did it together. I don’t really think that their actions should have qualified them for earning Bloomix but anyway. I don’t mind that they transformed together because their dynamic is really cute and I am sinking in deep.

- Ah, yes. Bloom was fighting the Trix. Totally forgot that because there was no stakes to that fight whatsoever. I do like the aesthetic of Bloom being in a different transformation than Stella and Layla. We haven’t seen that since three seasons ago when the first Enchantix was won.

- How did Stella get inspired for THESE hats by the battle? This is so totally not appropriate wear for any remotely intense situation. At least she didn’t get sulky this time when the rest didn’t like her designs.

- They’re making Riven an asshole again. I am glad that they had Tecna also being busy with her own things. Honestly, I kinda feel like they’re making Musa too demanding when it comes to attention. And Tecna is right that her algorithm is quiet while Musa’s music isn’t. When you live with other people, you have to respect their space. However, you’d think that they’d resolved this issue years ago since they have been roommates forever. I do like the symbols on their door, though. It really personalizes the space.

- Oh, Daphne has friends! That is really cool! Though, I hope this girl is a magical creature that ages differently because otherwise, this doesn’t make sense. What they said about the long time they haven’t seen each other makes me hopeful.

- These pandemonium sprites look like rats. I am not impressed. Even if they have destructive screams. You’d think the Magic Dimension will have something more interesting. The legend of the four sisters from the Hallowinx episode was leagues above this both in complexity and in creepiness. They need to step it up a notch with the Legendarium. And they don’t even explain any extended history (if any) behind the legends which could have been a great way to worldbuild. But nah.

- I don’t understand what is Musa’s problem. Tecna is allowed to not enjoy herself. And Musa is acting as if if all of her friends don’t enjoy the place she loves, she will not be validated in her love for it. It’s getting annoying. Not to mention that the pixies are not helping. I forgot their only role is to clown around... Which by the way, we already have Kiko for.

- Okay, the thing with the sounds residing in the pandemonium cave is actually kinda cool. Still not sure how exactly Tecna and Musa defeated the sprites but it was cool to see them team up. I’ve always known that the two of them can combine to a very powerful result. And Tecna creating tech for Musa is super cute!

- Ooooh, Diaspro team-up with the Trix! I love it! And Diaspro and Icy circling each other looked like they were checking each other out. They just need to get Bloom to leave Sky and join them and it is going to be the most powerful OT3 ever. (Why is Diaspro still only in her Winx form, though. It has been six years (and possibly more depending on where the movies fit in the time line).)

6x06:

- Vortex of flames? And fire eaters? That finally sounds intense. Let’s just hope that it will deliver as much as that’s possible at this point in time. Also, I love the fact that Diaspro is invited to the event on Domino. She is a princess, after all, and it would be a good idea to try to smooth things out with her kingdom (since she and Bloom aren’t on good terms).

- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Daphne is getting crowned as the heir to the throne! Yessss! Good! I am so happy to hear this! And they’ve gotten rid of the ugly dresses. Though, you’d think that Daphne will also have a new dress that is special for her coronation.

- Well, Thoren has jumped on quite the fast horse. Which I know will keep being the case but... What is Sky’s problem? Is it that Diaspro is there? Or is it because of Thoren? They’re suddenly being inseparable.

- Yeah, I don’t think Bloom’s weakness is from sharing the Dragon Fire. It is supposed to be inextinguishable so it shouldn’t be weakened by a few sparks that she gave to her friends.

- Aww, Daphne, honey, we know you will do your best for Domino! You already have! The whole planet wouldn’t be here without you and your family wouldn’t be either. I am so glad she is finally getting the recognition she deserves.

- Yeah, okay, Thoren left Sky but that was years ago. People change. Though, considering who he’s grown up with (aka Erendor), I can see how that is a foreign concept to Sky. Not to absolve him of responsibility for being so quick to judge after all this time in which he hasn’t bothered to see Thoren. And besides, they should let Daphne make her own decisions. She is more than capable of protecting herself.

- “I just love love” Amore is every shipper ever. Probably why she is most tolerable to me from the pixies.

- This is bullshit. Bloom was born without Dragon Fire. She didn’t have any before Daphne gave it to her. She doesn’t need it to sustain her. Maybe to sustain her powers. But not her life. And back in season 1 when the Trix stole the Dragon Fire from her, she was just fine. She wasn’t passing out and stuff. Stop making inconsistencies just to have more drama, dammit!

- Those fire eater things look stupid. I hope they are more effective, at least.

- Love how Diaspro didn’t even get to have her transformation even though they didn’t have to draw her a new one. They just had to take the transformation sequence from season 1. But even that was too much. At least Sky has learned not to trust her anymore. I can’t believe this day came.

- I like to think that Oritel asking about the girls meant all of Winx not just Bloom and Daphne (even if he didn’t but I think that he did).

- So why did Daphne just stand there instead of blasting Diaspro before she could throw Bloom into the vortex? I do love Diaspro and her wicked good days, though. If only she would just stop caring about Sky. I mean, Icy is right there!

- So it is confirmed that Bloom is a pyromaniac now, right? She was falling towards a vortex of flames and thinking about how beautiful it is. I can def see her lighting things on fire just to see the pretty flames once she got old enough to use a lighter. What is that hydra in the vortex, though, and where did it come from?

- Of course, Bloom can defeat the hydra and survive the vortex even though she was too weak to walk on her own. Of fucking course! Makes perfect sense! (I just hope the Trix will take Diaspro on their side even though Bloom survived. Diaspro did her job and the Trix have been failing to kill Bloom for years. They can’t hold that against her.) Edit: Where the hell did Diaspro go? We never see her again for the rest of the first half of the season (and possibly the second half as well). This plot point was just abandoned midway and I hate it!

- They already danced. Nothing says that they can’t again but they’re making such a big deal out of it.

- I’m gonna say it here but I am really not a fan of the Bloomix designs. The separate elements are good on their own but combined all together are too much for me. I don’t know where in the outfit to look because every part of it is screaming for attention.

6x07:

- Wow. I guess Stella doesn’t have to worry about getting rid of spiders. She can just yell at them and they’re going to leave. That’s actually useful. Wish I could do that.

- Please, tell me that Faragonda is at least taking some interest in how things with Griffin are going. Not that I have doubts about how well Roxy can take care of her but I doubt that Griffin is feeling very comfortable with the whole ordeal. I think she’d feel better if she spent some of her time as a crow with Faragonda. (Also, why didn’t Faragonda try to break the spell on her? If she can’t, then how did anyone else?)

- I have to say that them saying the Library of Alexandria wasn’t burned but hidden is hurting me because I wish that could be true. At least then the books wouldn’t have been destroyed even though we still wouldn’t have access to them.

- Love it how Daphne’s class has only the Winx and some other fairies when it is convenient. Aka when the Trix need someone to pose as.

- Why did the Specialists only come to Alfea to wish Winx goodbye? They could have done that on the phone. And I really don’t like the way they are making me like Roy by having an even worse option there for Layla. But the gift was actually cool. At least he gets her to a certain level.

- What was the idea of Daphne taking an entire balloon for her and the pixies if the pixies aren’t even flying with the balloon? They’re flying on their own and are just keeping up with the balloon. She could have gone with Bloom and the pixies could have been in the other balloon with Winx.

- I thought Bloom used her fire to make the storm disperse but nope. She just brought the two balloons higher up. And I just got excited over nothing. Damn!

- Really? Cherie just solved this? On her own? Even though Winx couldn’t? Yes, I agree with the Trix. This is ridiculous.

- Of course. Where there is Egypt, there are mummies. Normally, I don’t complain about mummies as I love all things Egyptian but there isn’t one thing that Winx hasn’t managed to fuck up in the last couple of seasons so I am not thrilled about this development.

- Why aren’t the Trix attacking? They have a perfect opportunity. They could blast Winx in back as they deal with the mummies and finish them off. But that would be too reasonable a plan. They have to wait for Winx to get a handle on the situation because they can’t be bothered to move their asses and get something fucking done.

6x08:

- How is THAT going for their bandages? They just keep blasting the mummies.

- Really not a fan of the way Daphne’s magic appears to be elemental. I think it would have been cooler for her to have some other powers. Or at least have just one element (and I think water would have been more interesting).

- Why does light seem to work on the mummies? They’re dead! They shouldn’t care about light. Nor sleep for that matter! I was gonna say that rain would make more sense as it would make their bandages wet but that didn’t work, yet somehow sleep seemed to have an effect. At least for a while. The lack of logic in this is unreal.

- Chatta just found the oldest way for defeating a mummy - unwrapping it from the bandages. Has none of them watched any movies? That is literally everywhere! Even though it does not make sense either because under the bandages there is a dried up body and this should have been gruesome as hell, not successful.

- Why did Selina send the Sphinx after the city instead of after Winx? That seems like they wanted to cause some unnecessary destruction only to make the Sphinx look tougher. Like we don’t know they’re gonna defeat it.

- How can Bloom feel everything? This is getting preposterous.

- Well, of course, Bloom can also sense a diary that she has never seen. Because it obviously has the energy of a living person and she can feel it. Makes perfect sense, why are you asking?

- At least the Trix are pretty good at keeping up the charade as Alfea fairies. Despite Stormy’s almost instant fuck-up in the the previous episode. Though, if they were smarter, they would be studying Winx to find out how they beat them every time and then deliberately set out to prevent that from happening so that they can win.

- When did Selina get into the library? I know Acheron told her that she needs to find the diary but she managed to teleport to another planet and we didn’t even see it. Not to mention that he said he knows where she can find the diary, yet she doesn’t seem to be doing so well in her search for it.

- Of course, suddenly it turns out that Bloom had a friend in Gardenia that she has never ever mentioned before and no one knew nothing about. Makes sense. They did look cute together, though.

- Seriously????? Piff got the Sphinx?!?!?!?! The Trix are an absolute mood in those last two episodes. This is ridiculous... again.

- Yeah, sure. They’re just doing convergence left and right. And with Daphne. Not like that should be hard to pull off. And I hate to say this but it should have worked. They so totally don’t need Bloom in order for the convergence to happen.

- Originally, they were supposed to have only one try but whatever. And my guess was five letters because I thought he was only asking about the word “books”. I didn’t think it was supposed to be “those books”. But I was still close enough. And it wasn’t that hard a riddle.

- So the library didn’t get burned down. Winx fucked it up and now you can’t enter it anymore. Nice one! Yeah, successful mission for you. But you managed to send to hell the whole library.

6x09:

- “We’re getting to see the world”? Yeah, one country from one single planet. It’s not like they have been all over the Magic Dimension. Sure, they are totally impressed by Earth that has been shown to be behind on tech AND magic. This line would make sense if they were normal people from Earth. The way things are, it just sounds weird.

- They really have no better way to create danger and are using the pixies to mess with the balloons? Pathetic. Also, why is Daphne using water to stabilize the balloon? How does that make sense?

- They’re just making pointless filler. Stella could have given them the proper warm attire the first time around. There was no need for that ridiculousness. I cannot anymore.

- Oh, yes, suddenly Bloom’s rationalizing abilities peak and she is considering all the question marks around Selina being in the library. Right. Totally bought that.

- Well, at least the Trix are rocking the disguises and the undercover work. That is the breath of fresh air that I need.

- How are the pixies not dead? The Trix turned Griffin into a crow but the pixies are somehow putting up a fight against them? I am going to scream. This is unbelievably stupid. The Trix have the power to decimate the pixies with one hit. So why didn’t they? They would have done us all a favor.

- Yeah, it was so obvious that Piff would wake them up before the Trix could finish them off. It’s just too convenient.

- I see Icy is still struggling with her crush on Bloom that hasn’t let up since the third movie. She didn’t even try to fight. And after all of this, they didn’t even take the diary? Come on!

- They saved his restaurant? It never would have been endangered if they hadn’t shown up! And I didn’t see anyone putting any conscious thought into saving the restaurant... or destroying it for that matter.

- Speaking of their never ending journey, are you telling me that this is the still the day that they left Egypt? Please, do not tell me that they somehow managed to get from Egypt to China in hot air balloons in one day! The hell!

- Oh, yeah, Icy, blame Stormy. You totally had the chance to blow the Winx away but you decided to leave because you don’t actually want to be rid of Bloom. Just admit it instead of blaming Stormy for your leadership and decisions.

- Pearls of restraint? Seriously? How do pearls relate to restraint? This sounds ridiculous. Are you telling me that they are going for some ocean-fire opposition here? Thanks, I hate it!

- Of course, the pearls are easy as fuck to find. Why would they be hidden or protected or something? Pft!

- How the hell did he give them a live flower? And they just said it’s one of a kind and handmade. Where did it come from? That just... doesn’t make sense. Why do I even bother anymore? Not to mention that it is supposed to only grow in Gardenia but he totally had one that was still alive in China. I don’t even know what to say anymore. I have run out of reactions over how incredibly illogical all of this is!

6x10:

- How many colleges are there and why have none of them ever come up before? I should be glad that they are giving us some tiny bit of worldbuilding but what we get is half assed as hell. We don’t even know where these things are or how they even help the Trix.

- Yeah, the Specialists AND the palladins are training at Alfea because THAT makes perfect sense. But OMG! Riven humoring Kiko and being so cheerful? with him? Absolute perfection!

- I am sick of the pixies. They weren’t so annoying in seasons 2 and 3. What happened?

- Oh, they brought back the freshmen? I thought no one would remember about them. I am pleasantly surprised for the second time in two minutes and I cannot believe it.

- They also unspelled Griffin? Nice.

- Am I the only one that is weirded out by the fact that everyone is referring to them as “the Winx” now? They just called them “girls” before. And even the dragon tamer from the previous episode referred to them that way which was just weird af.

- Aaaaaand Alfea just gained another facility. Not like that takes space or anything. And they were like “Oh, yeah, there was totes a greenhouse in this school and Flora didn’t know about it because it was abandoned BUT... it’s in perfect shape.” The bullshit is unreal once again.

- Omg, Stella and Brandon are so adorable! He is instantly humoring her and just rolling with her theatrical performance. They were made for each other.

- Yes, of course, Sky is the only one that is picking on the “wrong” vibes Selina is emitting. Because he is just so instinctive and it would be an opportunity for drama between him and Bloom (further supported by her just instantly trusting Selina and breaking Alfea protocol for it). Edit: There was no fight between Bloom and Sky about Selina, I can’t believe it! At this point they would throw just about anything between them so I am surprised that they didn’t use the opportunity.

- Wow. Does Stella really have to change their outfits every time they step into a different room? And she just left Selina out. It would have been weird to change her clothes as well but leaving her out was also just... odd.

- Plant monsters again? Didn’t they fight similar plants at one point? I honestly don’t remember when that was anymore but the ones they already fought looked like sunflowers. Maybe in Gardenia when Diana took over? That sounds right.

- Ah, this explains why they unspelled Griffin. That way they had all Palladium, Griffin and Selina pretending to be with them just so everything can piece together in a convenient way.

- Well, this is the most consistent Bloom has been ever since season 3. Something happens and she is instantly running back to Gardenia. At least the Winx tried to talk her out of it (and aww, precious Stella even crying over it!). And okay, I get she is upset that she nearly got Flora killed (love how Selina will never answer for that even though it was one of the closest calls ever) but she just wanted to protect a friend. She couldn’t have known what Selina was planning. And leaving now after they were in such a rush to find Eldora seems very counterproductive and selfish or at least self-absorbed on her part. They still have work to do.

6x11:

- There’s a Bloom dopelganger at Cloud Tower? Why are they even accepting students? And why did that fairy decide to join them (also, the hair cages are the stupidest thing ever)? They didn’t even give her a reason to do that. I almost feel like they only did it to show it’s possible to switch from being a fairy to being a witch in order to set up Selina’s story. Not like Mirta ever existed or anything. Or Faragonda for that matter (and yes, they switched from being a witch to being a fairy but that implies that the opposite is also possible).

- What, Griselda now has a problem with classical music? But I can’t believe we are seeing Roxy after she is done being useful to the plot. And it was nice to see her in a class in the previous episode.

- Why did Stella need to give them wings? We can go an episode without being reminded that she’s into fashion. And I hate how they are making Winx fight the second Bloom is not there. How is training gonna help if they can’t lock up the Legendarium? That should be a priority!

- Oh, god, the filler is unbearable (so I’m skipping it) and it’s not even giving a good perspective on the emotional mess which I think was the point. They could have done so much in the half an episode they wasted. (Also, how come Layla ended up with Nex when she seems to have more in common with Roy or at least get along with him better?)

- Even the Trix know that Bloom runs back to Earth every time there are consequences for her actions that she doesn’t want to face. But why vampires? And they made it sound like the idea of vampires exists only on Earth. That seems kinda weird.

- And the flower is in Gardenia. I mean, I knew that because I remember parts of the whole Eldora thing. But still.

- Yes, Layla and Stella are the only ones that grew up as princesses so only they can try to be leaders when Bloom is gone. I have to say that that shot of all of them hugging with Kiko but without Bloom is literally perfect for the rewrite I would do that has Layla as the main character and her and Stella are dating. (Why the hell did Bloom leave Kiko behind? She has NEVER done that before!)

- Oh, they’re energy vampires? They don’t drink blood? Or that’s just a paralyzing spell? Oh, wait, no. It’s a hypnotizing spell. I do hate to admit that that seems to be one of the abilities of vampires but they have reduced them to just that? And kinda draining energy? Booooooooring.

- Wait, the vampires are suddenly shooting beams out of their eyes somehow. ‘Cause that makes sense.

- At least Bloom realized that the Legendarium brought the vampires to life. I was just gonna say that it’s dumb of her to not figure that out after so many episodes.

- Well, this episode was completely pointless and could have been easily cut. So could have been the next, I’m guessing. The pixies were pointless as well because Bloom was going to run into the vampires sooner or later and Winx were supposed to go to Gardenia anyway because the flower is there. There was no need for any of this, really.

6x12:

- Poor Mike and Vanessa. They have been threatened so many times because Bloom will not face her problems and drags them with her to Gardenia. And they are still never complaining about it, never even for a second wished that she hadn’t found out the truth about herself. They are so precious, I love them!

- If you can’t stay at your home, why did you barricade yourself inside it? The logic.

- Of course, she doesn’t have a complete plan. Why would she? She didn’t have to stop and fight them. She could have just kept flying to get them far, far away. It’s clear that she is their target. And that would have bought her time to think.

- And once again, Winx show up just on time to save her. Couldn’t have let the vampires take a bite or two... Oh, wait. They don’t bite. Why would they? Not like that is literally the MAIN thing to a vampire.

- Oh, come on! She’s acting like they have been apart for ages and she abandoned them forever. And her little speech is annoying me because she sounds like she had an epiphany and I call bullshit on that. She was moping right up until the battle and then she clearly wasn’t thinking about ANYTHING.

- Stella legit turned Bloom into a broom?!?!?! For what possible reason? And was she planning to sweep the streets with Bloom’s hair. Very inappropriate even if I would have had nothing against seeing that.

- Oh, yeah. Great idea to leave behind the transformations and go all casual. They might have been able to fight back otherwise and we couldn’t have had that. They needed to be “enslaved” in order for something to appear to be happening.

- What do you mean Stella’s address is Alfea college? Her address should be on Solaria. And why did she just not put Mike and Vanessa’s address? That’s the only Earth address she could have used. But no! Her fashion obsession had to be dragged back in but at least this time it served some purpose.

- “Solar halo”? That sounds so cool. But did the vampire really leave two pixies “guard” against a fairy and four more pixies? How does that make sense? Your math does not add the fuck up! I know you’re undead but you must have some brains left in there.

- Oh, yeah, and the sunlight even breaks the vampires’ spell BEFORE destroying the vampires. NO.

- They make me sick as well, Darcy, don’t worry. They really left enough time for the fashion show as well? I am getting sick of this fashion obsession when there is nothing else going on! There is no plot. There is no point to these episodes.

- She wants inspiration? She didn’t have enough of that when they were fighting all the goth vampires? Though, I have to say that I really like the designs! She really mixed them up and I am so happy to see Stella designing something with a goth streak because it works for one of my ideas.

6x13:

- This is the most important pizza on a TV show ever. But I am so happy to see how excited Mike and Vanessa are to have all the girls together. They have basically adopted all of them at this point.

- Does this episode intend to start at some point? 1/4 is already done and they have not done anything AT ALL!

- Oh, the touch of Selina and Bloom feels is the first interesting thing.

- Even Mike has noticed how convenient it is that everything is in Gardenia. But wait, Bloom had a drawing of the flower and she didn’t remember it when she first saw it? Wow! They are amping up the ridiculousness even more.

- Wait, why did Bloom keep saying that she’s Bloom and Eldora keeps ignoring that? Isn’t Eldora supposed to be the one that remembers her and Bloom should be the one to have her memories wiped or whatever? Also, Eldora’s cheerfulness is exhausting me when it is coupled with her chaotic energy. That post about Eldora being a drunk Faragonda is too real since Faragonda’s cheerfulness and positivity is a lot more peaceful.

- Weren’t there supposed to be no more fairies on Earth after the Wizards of the Black Circle? Then how come Eldora and Selina were just fine? That is stupid and contradicts the entirety of season 4 but, of course, no one cares about continuity. What is that? If it doesn’t make money, it’s not of interest.

- Yeah, Selina’s backstory makes no sense because she wasn’t after power. She was happy with Eldora and then all of a sudden, boom! She’s evil. Yeah, right. And where did the being the witch of snakes come from? She has never been shown to... oh, wait! That was somehow relevant to the finale, wasn’t it? Ugggggh!

- Lmaooo, the Trix are writing their own critique on the whole thing. Yes, it is all the same old song and dance. I wish they would get more interesting powers. And instead we’re getting Mythix that is both ugly and unnecessary.

- Why didn’t the Winx try telling the Trix that Selina is playing them? That would have made things different.

- “I’m so over the Legendarium.” We all are, Layla. We all are.

- So Eldora is the fairy of flowers? Aka the previous Flora.

- A bit responsible? Yeah, guess who would have never found the Legendarium if not for her. And leaving it unprotected where it could find Selina was so incredibly stupid.

Part 2 is here.

[changlingrogue]

Okay, a head's up, this got rambly and it will definitely have spoilers for Campaign 2 Episode 128, 127 and to be on the safe side 126. I'll tag it as "cr spoilers" and put it under a cut though.

Okay, so, starting from the jump the episode is a little anxiety inducing as it picks up directly where last week's left off with Caleb, Jester and Veth confronted by Trent down in the basement. Trent only appears to want to talk (being the mofo he is, his words are just as dangerous as his magic), but Caleb isn't having any of that and starts things off with casting Wall of Fire (I think?) to separate them from Trent. Trent dispels it and still seems interested in talking until Caleb casts a Firebolt at him. Veth follows up with her attack which does work and then Jester tries another Word of Recall which Trent tries to Counterspell with a horrifying nat 20, but it gets cancelled out by Caleb's nat 20 and the three of them escape to Nicodranas, outside on the Brenatto family's balcony. A couple of takeaways from this encounter:

Was trying to fight Trent the best idea, no. But like I can't say I blame Caleb. Liam made it very clear that Caleb was terrified. He was going off of raw emotions and being confronted by the man that ruined his life in a place that held a lot of emotional trauma for him... can't say most people would be able to keep a cool head.

It does still make me wonder how things would have went if Trent had been able to talk. Would they have been able to leave without things ending up like they ultimately did or was it just a way for Trent to keep control of the situation? Maybe a bit of both? Trent certainly risks losing more now that he has to come up with some sort of explanation for what happened at the sanitarium and given that the whole Cerberus Assembly is under investigation, its not a good look. Veth's decision to steal some of those crystals did alert Trent to what they were doing and is maybe part of the reason he's pursuing them so aggressively, but I feel like its going to be one of those things that really helps them out in the future. I was happy when it was proposed to keep at least one for evidence, because I think if it's used in the right way and given to the right people it might be a nail in the coffin Trent (hopefully) finds himself in.

To jump off from the crystal point, I'm really digging how in this campaign player choices have at times had some really interesting a longstanding consequences/rewards. Like it really makes the world feel alive, and that its not revolving around M9. Like for one of the more "positive" examples, Beau telling Dairon about how she was kidnapped and forced into the Cobalt Soul lead to the eventual arrest and upcoming trail of Zeenoth and the apology Beau deserved for years. But on the flip side, as we learn eventually, when the rest of the party joins back up with them in Nicodranas, Jester mentioning The Ruby of the Sea gives Trent a lead of where to find them. (I'd also like to mention that Team Outtie or Audi, lol, did a pretty good job. Fjord really came through with Arcane Gate, Marine Layer and even Major Image. It didn't stop Trent but it did keep the Guards busy. Caduceus got them out quick with Word of Recall and while Beau's umm, assassination attempt was brutal, she did keep the Guard on top of the tower from doing anything and she alerted Team Outtie to the arrival of Trent and more Guards.)

But back to Nicodranas and M9 trying to get their families there ferried away to safety. I really did nearly cry from the conversations Jester and Veth had. I adore Jester and mother's relationship, like Marion is one of my favorite of Matt's NPCs for more than reason and I love how just... loving and understanding she is. And I really like Yeza for that similar reason. Those two conversations really stuck out to me because of like... idk, I guess they sort of hit home a bit? With Jester and her mom it's the shift of being the one whose protected to the one who is the protector that I (and other adults) experience at one point when it comes to your parents as they get older. It's not as wild as keeping them safe from a powerful mage and his magic assassins, but it's a total flip in a relationship that you've had since you were younger.

And with Veth it's about being a parent and a partner and having to make choices and sometimes sacrifices to keep them safe. I'm really glad Veth and Yeza got a chance to talk and be open with one another, for at least a bit. I was surprised by Yeza's perspective of things and how he felt he was also guilty of putting their family in harm's way because I always assumed like, at least when it came to working with the Assembly he didn't have much a choice ( Idk if I just missed that part or it was mentioned in Talks or not), but him saying that he also took risks because he wanted to make something of himself and provide for Veth gives a new perspective of him and on his and Veth's relationship. Like now it seems more like he actually understands (on some level) Veth's conflicting feelings of wanting be an adventurer but wanting to be with her family too and that's why he's been so supportive of her vs him just kind of blindly supporting her. I really hope they continue to be open with one another and they keep talking about things, which I guess they might get a chance to again in the future if Veth actually does end up coming home to them for good after M9 takes care of the TombTakers. I'm sad about the idea of Veth leaving and not adventuring with the rest of M9, and I will legit cry if they say to goodbye but I can understand and respect her reasoning. She really did try to "have both" and for the things that they've been involved in, it, unfortunatly, doesn't work. Since reuniting with her family that's been one of her main conflicts and I'm happy that she finally seemed to come to a decision of what comprimises she can and can't make for the type of life she wants. I know a lot of the fandom won't be happy if Veth leaves and Sam creates another character but I like that Sam (and honestly everyone else as well) really plays his characters to who they are as people. After those heartwrenching moments, the tension in the game picks up again as they find out that they're being watched by two inviduals who turn out to be Astrid and Eadwulf. Astrid basically tells them to get everyone they care about and get the fuck out of Nicodranas since they've been dispatched to get them, and from some invisable tailing by Veth, we learn that there's another Volstrucker in town, along with fucking Trent himself and that they're only a few blocks away from the Lavish Chateu. So M9 gets themselves and the families together and steaths to Yussa's tower, hoping he could help them get somewhere else quick, only to find that he can't be reached at the moment. Luckily, his servant Wentsworth knows of something that might help and after some searching a Detect Languages spell, they find a scroll that has the spell Plane Shift and a tuning fork that they're unsure which plane its atturned to.

My thoughts on this are:

That I'm not sure if they're lucky or unlucky at this point. Because on one hand they're literally on the run from one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, but on the otherhand they've managed to escape him twice, despite the odds being against them. I really want to know what plane they're on, there's a lot of speculation that its the Plane of Fire which sounds terrible, but I'm not that versed in like D&D lore so maybe it's not as bad as it sounds in my head. I agree with Matt that thinking to use the Happy Fun Ball as a way to transport some of their people was pretty clever, I just hope they made the right choices for who went inside and who stayed outside. This is Yasha's first time in the ball! I wish it was under better circsumstances so that everyone could be there and they could actually explore but I wonder what her reaction will be. When she's not making out with Beau, lol. I'm not as worried for the group in the ball as I am for the group outside of it, I think Beau, Yasha and Fjord will be able to get to an exit without too much trouble as long as they don't stumble across any surprises that aren't on the map. And I'm very intrigued with how Astrid is shaping up as a character. I like so far what Matt is doing with her and I like that she's shaping up to not just be the "bad bitch/ruthless" villain archetype that a lot of female characters end up being. That character can be fun and enjoyable in certain things and when there's more beneath the surface, but it's nice to see that Astrid actually does care about Caleb. I was suspicious of her intentions before, but I feel that Matt has made it clear that while her and Eadwulf are still adversaries to the M9, they do care about Caleb and want to help him out. I feel for the whole Blumenthal Trio one way or another. To close things, because this had gotten way too long, lol. I can't wait for the next episode. Hopefully everything will work out for them and they can get the families to safety, though I don't know if sending them to the Gentleman is a good idea. But we'll see eventually!

[mollymauk-teafleak]

whose brow is laid in thorn (chapter two)

Huge thanks as always to my lovely friends @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian

Please reblog and use this link to leave a comment on the chapter over at ao3!

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Caleb has to figure out where he fits in the prince's life, all while grappling with memories and emotions he's supposed to have forgotten...

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Caleb had been warned how hard it would be.

Things were the same but they weren’t. He knew the people they passed in the walkways by nothing but their footfalls but couldn’t recall their names. He knew the way through the endless corridors but had forgotten where they would end. He could place the smells of old paper, cool stone, dust on gold, oak and the rich smells from the kitchen, but he couldn’t connect them to memories.

He was home but he wasn’t.

Every moment spoke of a different piece of himself that had been clipped away, different parts of his brain that had been worked free and thrown out, a patchwork blanket of missing pieces. Every other step deeper into the castle brought another ghost to the edges of his vision, but none that he could fully bring into focus and confront directly. The place was the same but he was different and it was knowing that which hurt the most.

Except it didn’t hurt. Because it wasn’t allowed to hurt.

Caleb closed his eyes as a whip cracked in the back of his mind.

But if it wasn’t allowed to hurt, what other words were there to describe how it felt to have the prince’s eyes on him? They had gone straight from the audience chamber to the open court that would take up the majority of the day, his highness seeming completely unsure what else to do. So now Caleb stood behind his gilded seat, a smaller, more subtle version of the king’s expansive throne, and watched as the prince heard not a word of anyone around him.

And watched as the courtiers stared at and whispered about him. The wayward companion returned to the prince’s side with no warning, no fanfare, rekindling all the rumours that had surrounded his swift departure from the palace. Caleb had been warned there would be attention, something that made him uncomfortable as a Volstruker, but he would have to endure it and repeat the same story, that he’d been away under specialised training to better protect the future king.

He was to consider it a further punishment for his past failures.

The court passed without incident, the room was clear of any threat save the angry muttering that accompanied any decisions the king made that were taken poorly by the supplicants. Which did happen to be most of them. It was quickly cured by the guardsmen inching closer, some needing to clear a few inches of steel from their scabbards to silence the dissent. Caleb didn’t so much as twitch. Some jobs were for common guardsmen, some were for Volstruker.

So it passed without incident. But it did pass. And that left him alone with the prince again.

As the throne room cleared, Caleb felt the king’s blue eyes settle on him and quickly dart away again. Nor could he look at his son for very long. It was as if Caleb’s presence was a rotten tooth, drawing their attention against both of their wills, reopening that old ache between them. Reminding them of ten years ago.

He remembered his highness sobbing, holding the blankets up to his chin, trembling beneath them. Caleb meanwhile has nothing to cover himself with, not even his own hands, with his arm in Sorah’s cruelly hard grip. Molly begs her not to hurt him, rages at her to release him, pleads to his father in between sobs but Babenon turns his back and tells Sorah in tones of cold iron to take Caleb to the dungeons and inform Ikithon. Molly lurches, at his father or for Caleb, it is hard to say, but a sudden back hand sends him crumbling to the torn bedclothes and Caleb doesn’t even get to see Molly’s face one last time before the door to the bedchamber slams closed.

A whip crack lanced painfully across the memory, ending it sharply. Caleb shook himself, digging his fingernails into his palm for some focus and followed his highness out of the side door into the royal family’s private apartments.

Here the hangings were much less severe, the carpets softer and torches a much more mellow gold. Here the tapestries didn’t depict bloody victories in war, they were scenes of beautiful Xorhasian wilderness, and accompanied by royal portraits where they were actually allowed to smile. Music echoed from somewhere, Queen Marion always had a spell ready in her chambers that she could call upon when the mood took her. He had resummoned it a few times, at his prince’s request, when he was younger.

Of course, he was bound to do all his highness asked of him.

The prince paused at a junction between hallways, shoulders tight, not turning. His voice was awkward, wavering, like it could snap at any moment.

“Jester...she’d prepared a welcome home party for you. All of our friends, Beau and Yasha, Fjord and Cad...Veth. They were going to surprise you. Do you...do you remember them?”

The breath in Caleb’s throat seemed to freeze. He remembered a laugh that always makes him feel like he belongs, hugs given freely that he at first tenses up to but then begins to accept and then to need. Snarky, smirking eyes, blows traded back and forth in the practise yard and out of it, the feeling he’d been so unfamiliar with but then realises it for what it is- having a sibling. A kind, low voice, light teasing, at first worrying that they were competing for Mollymauk’s affection but then quickly realising how wrong he is, glad to see her there every day. The smell of salt, tales of far off places he’d never seen but wanted to, a crooked smile that sparks an embarrassing crush in him early on, before he even dares hope that Molly’s heart might be heading in the same direction as his own. The smell of wet earth, soft fur, strange turns of phrase that make him smile, somehow effortlessly soothing the anxiety he always feels around medicine.

And Veth. Gods, Veth. The first face he sees when he arrives at the castle, still raw and terrified though he can’t show it. A gentle voice and kind eyes, clever hands. Sweetness when he needs it most. A piece of Blumenthal in this strange land, when he thought it had all been ripped away from him. The gods somehow deciding he deserved another chance at having a mother, after everything he’d-

The whip crack again, the throb of agony, the sharp inhalation. He managed not to stagger but clearly couldn’t control his face as well. The prince’s eyes grew tight in profile, the side of his mouth he could see turned down in something that, of not outright grief, was still in the same family.

“I’ll take you straight to my chambers. You can take some time to yourself and I...I’ll explain things to them,” he murmured.

And when it turned to full blown grief, Caleb would know the prince had given up on him completely. There would be no returning to what they had ten years ago.

Which was the idea. Of course.

“As you say, your highness,” Caleb nodded stiffly, feeling a spark of relief with guilt on it’s heels. He quashed them both swiftly.

The prince’s bedchamber brought more memories he had to fight off, both good and bad. Keeping one half at bay while trying to bring the other close to be the salt in his wound, his painful reminder, was hard enough that for a moment he didn’t realise his highness was even speaking to him.

Of course the castle’s decor couldn’t be changed at its core, the black, almost obsidian stone would stand long after any of them were gone. But somehow, as the prince stood in the centre of his chambers, he’d managed to make himself fit. The hangings were all the plum purples and bright golds that he loved, his jewellery hung on racks on the expansive dressing table, a stick of incense burned on the windowsill to fill the space with scents of amber and musk. His many swords were hanging from the walls, each hilt and scabbard more elaborate and jewel encrusted than the last, moon and star charts done on black vellum were stuck up around the window so he could look out and know what he was seeing. The light was warm, low and inviting.

And there were books. Not many but a few, one on the table open by the bedside, a few piled on the dressing table, one on the windowsill.

Caleb remembered, his prince, his Mollymauk, smiling across the table from him, confessing in a gentle voice that he’d never liked reading until he met Caleb and oh gods, Caleb fell in love so hard and so fast. He remembered mouthing the words along with Molly, watching his lips form the words, watching his brow wrinkle as he concentrated and did what so many tutors had told him he’d never be able to do just because Caleb had taken the time to teach him with some gentleness. He remembered Mollymauk excitedly recounting plots and characters to him, hands moving in the air to form the twists in the tales he enjoyed so much. And he remembered having to pull a book out of Molly’s hands to kiss him...

It was worse this time, the crack and snap in his head. It was getting worse every time. He was supposed to be better than this.

“Caleb?” the prince’s voice was full of panic, “Caleb, what hurts?”

There were hands on him, holding his arms tightly, and when he managed to open his eyes, the prince’s face was inches from his own. He could smell his perfume, he could see the red rims around the eyes where he’d wept, the edges of his tattoos. He felt every inch of worry and care in his prince’s eyes and he remembered, he remembered.

Caleb wrenched backwards out of the prince’s grip to the snap of a whip, so hard and fast that his back hit the far wall and a dull ache went up his spine. He heard a pained moan from the other man, looked up in time to see him retract his hands as quickly as if they’d been burned.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the adornments in his horns ringing softly as he trembled, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.”

“It is not for you to apologise, your highness,” Caleb’s words were level, even as he panted and broke out in a sweat just from standing upright, “The fault is mine. The training I underwent may take some time to fully sink in but I assure you, I am cured of the madness that possessed me as a child. I am...I am ready to be your Volstruker. Wholly and completely.”

He had thought that would please the prince but found himself feeling no disappointment when it didn’t. His highness only gave a shaky sigh, pressed his fingertips to his temples and closed his eyes tight.

“I...I need you to know I’m not angry with you, Caleb,” he said after a long few moments of silence, “This is not your fault, none of it. And I will do everything I can to help you. It may just take me some time to work out what helps and what...what hurts.”

“Help me?” Caleb didn’t understand, “Your highness, I have been helped. My master and the other members of my order removed any trace of the degeneracy that poisoned me.”

“That made you love me,” the prince added, his voice twisted by pain as his eyes opened and fixed on Caleb’s face.

He swallowed hard, his training’s words suddenly difficult to bring forth, “It is not my role to...that is not my purpose. My purpose is to protect you, your highness. To serve you, to see you take the throne. To die for you.”

“You used to live for me, Caleb,” his prince whispered sorrowfully.

His mouth opened, his jaw worked soundlessly. He tried to summon the proper response, the words he’d been taught but he didn’t understand why his throat was closing to them.

Finally, he simply said, “My eyes were opened.”

The fight went out of the prince, his shoulders slumped and his eyes turned away, “I think I need to...rest. I will go speak to my friends and then turn in. I suggest you do the same.”

The sun had barely cleared it’s noon position but Caleb knew better than to question the prince. He was, of course, long past the age where his days were filled with lessons and tutors and instructors, he could do what he wished with his hours now.

He had grown into a fine heir these past ten years. And now Caleb was here to see him become a great king.

“As you wish, your highness. If I may ask, are my chambers still where they were when I left?”

“Your chambers?” the prince blinked at him uncomprehendingly, “You...you haven’t used those since you were ten. You always…”

This time, he was strong enough to fight the memories off. He did not think of a handful of cold, lonely nights in his own sparse, stone room that were peppered with nightmares. He did not think of the one night where Mollymauk- the prince- took his hand as he was about to retire and confessed shyly that he could hear him crying out in the night, that he had nightmares sometimes too since he’d had to move out of his mama’s apartments, and asked if he would like to share his bed instead. So they could be there for each other. He did not think of years and years worth of another warm body in silk sheets beside him, arms around him when the nightmares came, though much more infrequently. He did not think of the blankets pulled up over his head so he and his best friend could whisper and giggle and gossip until the dawn. And he did not think of shy glances, blushes that began to rise on his face for reasons he wasn’t sure of yet, he did not think of hundreds of nights that were spent in perfect innocence until they weren’t.

He did not think of the first and last time they made love in that bed, on Mollymauk’s eighteenth birthday, thinking they had made themselves their own little world within its silken hangings, a world where they could have everything they wanted even if everyone else said no.

Caleb did not think of any of it. He felt the pinch of someone else’s satisfaction.

“It is my place, your highness,” he said simply.

The prince swallowed hard and lifted a limp hand to indicate the door Caleb remembered, concealed behind a tapestry and a veil of magic to hide its existence from any potential thieves or assassins coming to threaten his charge.

“Many thanks,” Caleb dipped into a low bow, “Please call on me should you require anything.”

He had little memories of the room itself but there was a strong sense of familiarity to it, he’d slept on spare stone bunks like this at the Volstruker training grounds and the Soltryce Academy as a very young boy. It reminded him again who he was and what he was here to do, as he set down his small bag of belongings and hung his knives up on the wall rack, alongside his belt of magical ingredients.

He was here to protect the prince. And now he was cured, that was precisely what he intended to do.

The next weeks were difficult, it would be impossible for Caleb to admit otherwise, though he did all he could to not show it on his face.

It was rather like being at a funeral where he was the corpse.

It was impossible to avoid the prince’s friends. Not when they consisted of the princess, the master at arms, a captain in the royal fleet, the palace healer and the head of the household staff. And when one was second only to himself in hours spent at the prince’s side. They didn’t spend time as a group, like they would as children, and Caleb knew with a strong guilty kind of sadness that it was because of him, the ghost at the feast. But the prince had dealings with them all, of course, and in these stiff, awkward times they would glance at Caleb helplessly, like he was a drowning man just off shore and they had no idea how to save him.

They would eventually realise that he didn’t require it. They would. Jester’s eyes would stop spilling over every time she came to see her brother, Beau would stop nearly snapping her staff to splinters as she watched him spar alone while the prince trained at blades, Caduceus would stop murmuring prayers at his back. And Veth...well, Veth was avoiding him altogether.

Caleb expected it to grow easier over time, that was what he’d been told. That the memories which assaulted him and tried to drag him away from his purpose would fade over time, as he grew used to their temptations and overcoming them. And if asked, he would insist, stone faced, that they were.

They were just also growing more frequent.

He did expect to be asked. His master was in the castle, though they didn’t see each other much in the fast running currents of royal life. Currents that the prince did his level best to steer away from the former archmage, not difficult to do when his master spent nearly all his days in the lab he’d constructed in one of the far towers. That certainly hadn’t changed in the intervening ten years, something that Caleb found himself rather glad of, though he quickly admonished himself for that. He just couldn’t have those harsh, yellow eyes on him, whether it was from across the main hall at a banquet or in the close council chambers whenever his master was called on, without remembering that his most shameful, weakest moments were stored behind them.

But Caleb wasn’t fool enough to think that just because he so rarely saw his master, he wasn’t under scrutiny. More times than he wanted to think about, he felt Sorah’s blank, empty gaze on him and he would feel the throb of an old bruise on the top of his arm, one he didn’t think would fade with time.

Not that he didn’t deserve it. Of course.

Every day became much the same. He would wake before the prince, usually after a night of difficult dreams, and spend the intervening time going through his war mage’s books, storing several powerful spells that would best serve him in protecting the prince that day. Ones to turn back dangerous beasts if they were going hunting, ones to effortlessly memorise any information if there was to be a council meeting, ones to walk on water if they were going sailing. And always the usual ones, for driving back poisons, quickening his reflexes, allowing him to pass unnoticed.

He’d always excelled at the magical side of his calling, right from when he was young, only really needing to work hard at the pure weapon aspect of it. Which was why, once his spells were stored, he would spend the rest of the pre dawn hours practising with his knives in his room, using spells to summon ghostly foes to fight against.

By the time he had killed hundreds of times over, it would be a simple matter of washing in cold water, dressing in his uniform and slipping into the prince’s bed chamber to be ready for when he awoke.

The rest of the day would depend on the prince’s schedule. It would seem the duties of a crown prince had piled up somewhat in the space of ten years, there was very little free time to be found in their days. Public events, councils, open courts, banquets and hunts and expeditions held by courtiers wishing to curry favour, they would often be part of the king’s retinue or else dispatched to stand in his place for all those invitations he didn’t have the time to answer but couldn’t afford to ignore. It would seem the king was keeping his heir close, quite deliberately putting him on display.

And Caleb could all too easily read the effect that was having on the prince. Though he kept on a carefully constructed mask of joviality and charm, helped by all the silks and low cut samites and dripping gemstones, Caleb saw him in his moments out of the performance too.

He saw how he’d shift uncomfortably at some of his father’s decisions in the open court, how his shoulders would tense when the king would dismiss the diplomats from other kingdoms with words sharper and more offensive than necessary. He felt the waves of distrust coming off the prince when one of the king’s financiers would wave away any questions he asked about the state of royal coffers. He heard the tense exchanges between him and King Babenon, in hallways and anterooms and side chambers, when they could be certain they were heard only by their Volstruker, conversations that ended in angry curses from both father and son, neither of them happy when the prince inevitably flinched first.

Sometimes it was enough that Caleb would hear the echoed crack of a fierce backhanded slap, a decade old now. Judging by the prince and king’s expressions at the end of these tense, clipped exchanges, he didn’t think he was the only one to hear it.

And he took note of how the prince would steal snatches of time alone where he could, purposefully wandering away from the group on a hunt to take a moment’s breath of silent forest air from the tree’s edge or stepping right up to the end of the jetty as they’d load off the royal barge so he could close his eyes and hear nothing but the crash of the waves for just a minute. These moments would always be fleeting but Caleb got the sense that they were all that got the prince through the day.

And once or twice, Caleb would feel those red eyes on him as if he was going to reach out to him, to share his momentary peace with him, but it would only ever be a few seconds before he remembered and the eyes would flit away, to focus again on whatever the prince was looking at out in the wilderness.

The days were much the same. But they weren’t getting any easier.

Caleb thought that with a bitter touch of frustration that he’d admonished himself for before it was even fully formed. The door to his chamber closed with its usual hiss of reforming magic, closing him off from the prince if not from the gulf between them. He disrobed quickly, letting the heavy, black material pool on the floor without much care. The runes woven into the fabric repelled stains and creases about as well as they repelled the points of knives and antagonistic spells.

Once down to his undershorts, he allowed himself a selfish moment just to sit and feel the full weight of things, sinking down onto his, honestly, hideously uncomfortable bed. The only thing preventing him from cracking under that same weight every day was telling himself that it would get better. That he’d get stronger, better, that he’d shake off the weaknesses he’d been cursed with.

But each day was exactly like the other, the same memories trying to drag him to places he wasn’t allowed to go, the same sad eyes on him from his former friends who wanted him to be a person he wasn’t allowed to be.

And the prince, his sad, lonely, frightened prince, hiding everything behind a mask.

Caleb wasn’t sure how many more days like this he could take.

He cleaned his weaponry to take his mind off things, neatly labelling and shelving his host of fears and anxieties and closing the doors on them through the easy, regular pass of the whetstone over the blades of one knife after the other. It was mindless and repetitive, giving him some kind of reprieve, even if sleep was and would remain a long way off. Sometimes it was better for him to just skip it entirely, to just let his brain switch off like this until the new day began. Certainly some of the dreams he’d been having lately made him very anxious to limit the amount of time he was at their mercy.

Volstruker don’t need sleep the same way mortal men do, he told himself though it didn’t really sound like his voice in his mind, because we are not mortal men. We are more and we are less. We are beings of magic. Does magic need sleep? Does magic need jealousy, hate, does magic need love, Caleb Widogast? Because if you would like to argue that point then get up off the floor, cease that pathetic crying and make your case for the Volstruker inviting this weakness into our ranks. No? I thought not. Then do your best to remember your manhood and remember the vows you made in exchange for your life, what little value it has.

Or are you not one of us?

Caleb’s grip on the knife hilt tightened, his knuckles white.

The candle was a few inches shorter than it had been before. There was a growing pool of pale wax threatening to gutter it, to drown it within itself, giving Caleb an odd sense of kinship with the thing. When he managed to unclench his fist from around his knife and push back his hair, he found himself sweating slightly, his shoulders hitching with breaths deeper than they had any right to be. To his shame, his cheeks were wet and it was all he could do to hold back further sobs.

Are you not one of us?

The sobs hadn’t ceased and a bitter fury at himself rose in his chest. Until he realised the sounds weren’t his own. They were coming from behind the door that separated his and the prince’s chambers.

Instincts flared to life with an audible crackle. Caleb swept up the knife he’d been holding, lurching to grab the next closest one that was at its fullest, most wicked sharpness. Not even needing to speak aloud, he let his magic run down each of them like hot lava, igniting the poison in one and the ghostly flame on the other. He didn’t pause for his cloak or to raise any kind of shield spell. There wasn’t time for such luxuries when something was threatening his prince.

He chose stealth over an all out assault, he was no Eadwulf and knew his strengths. But it was hard, so hard, when another sob found it’s way from his prince’s throat to his ears, when images of him being hurt, being threatened surged up like vomit, consuming him with a kind of bloodlust and fury he knew he was supposed to feel as a war mage but had never been able to truly summon. Only when someone hurt Mollymauk.

But as he slipped through the magical barrier between their rooms, feeling it’s power stick to his skin like a veil of honey, and sank into the room’s thick shadows, he could see no assailant. His mind flicked through other possibilities- invisible wraiths, malicious dreamwalkers, a deadly poison only not taking hold- but after a few seconds lurking in the dark, like a snake, he could sense no kind of murderous presence, visible or invisible, flesh or magic.

Only his prince, curled in on himself in the middle of his expansive bed, the sheets wrapped tight around him like strangling bonds. Only his soft sobs, his face contorted in misery as his chest rose and fell harshly, his eyes tight shut. Instantly, he recognised it for what it was.

Caleb didn’t think. He didn’t allow himself to question his choice, to filter it through other people’s voices. He just let his knives drop to the carpet, where they made twin, muffled thuds, and moved swiftly to his prince’s side, sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and gently pushed the hair back from his damp forehead, shushing him as softly as the whisper of a candle flame. A split second’s thought and the candles closest to the bed leapt to life, cutting through the thick black of the night and bathing them in warm gold. So he could see with perfect clarity as Mollymauk’s eyes opened slowly, at first seeing only whatever had been terrifying him, but then gradually focusing and letting the nightmare turn to smoke.

“It’s alright, Mollymauk,” Caleb murmured, hand still cupping his face, “It was just a bad dream.”

“Caleb…” Molly’s voice was weak and raspy with hours of sleep, he tried to rise, “You’re okay. Thank the gods, I saw...I heard…”

He shook himself, deliberately breathing slowly and deeply. He’d taught Caleb the same trick, years ago, for when he began to panic.

“You’re right. It was just a bad dream.”

He sighed then, leaning into Caleb’s touch, bringing one hand up to settle over the wizard’s and twin their fingers together. His lips pursed slightly, turned to the scarred fingers he held so tightly…

And then they both realised when they were.

The two of them froze, guilt leaping onto both faces, frantic apologies rising to both lips. But neither quite managed to give them voice, seeing their expression mirrored back at them.

“Your highness…” Caleb spoke first, shakily, unable to make his hand withdraw.

“You...you called me Mollymauk just now,” his prince- the prince- breathed, hope dawning in his tired eyes.

Gods, anything but that. Anything but hope. Caleb knew exactly how hope could be turned into the most painful weapon, a poison you’d gladly gulp down only to have it burn worse than anything.

“I...I wasn’t thinking,” he confessed, “I only wanted to help you, when I saw you in such distress…”

The prince sighed, shoulders slumping. He let go of Caleb’s hand, hugging his knees to his chest and suddenly looking all of his mere twenty eight years and not very much like a crown prince at all. Was ten years really as great a distance as all that? Hadn’t they just been boys, when Caleb had last blinked?

“I won’t put you through any more pain, Caleb, I swear that to you,” he told his knees, unable to lift his head until the moment he whispered, “But...is there any hope for us? Is there anything of the man I loved left in you?”

Yes, a bruised and broken and bleeding part of Caleb groaned, straining towards the touch of that warm skin again. But there was also the crack of the whip, echoing through the dark spaces. And from here, the voice sounded so, so small and frail in comparison.

“I am yours,” he finally said, voice low, “Here, as I am now, I can be yours, my prince. The man I was, he was taken away from you and always would have been. They would never have let us be. But now…any life with you in it is better than one without.”

That was the truth at least. Close enough to the right words that there was no sound of any whip crack.

“A life where your mind is not your own,” there was bitterness in his prince’s voice, “A life where you can be hurt at one vile man’s whims. A life where you can’t be yourself and live as you will.”

Caleb met his prince’s eyes, “A life not so dissimilar from yours?”

His mouth fell open and Caleb winced, certain for a moment that he’d overstepped himself, that he was about to feel a fury worthy of Babenon’s heir. But then a rueful sigh escaped and his prince only sat back against the headboard, eyes sad.

“I suppose it isn’t...but that does not make it right. And it does not mean I’m giving up on you, Caleb.”

He did not trust himself to answer right away. Carefully, carefully, like dodging traps that would spring if he moved too fast, finding the right balance between what he wanted to say and what he was permitted to say.

“You never did, my prince.”

That made him smile, a tired smile but a true one, no mask between them. Each of them knew the other was telling the truth. It felt good, being truthful.

“Would you permit me to stay here for the rest of the night, your highness? I don’t feel right leaving you alone, if you were to have another nightmare I want to be here for you,” Caleb asked gently.

The prince’s lip curled up on one side, “Here? In my bed?”

“It’s the best place for me to protect you, your highness,” Caleb nodded firmly, face straight though something inside him thrilled.

“Very well,” he chuckled, sinking back down into the expanse of the feather mattress, resting back into the same curled ball he’d always slept in, “Goodnight, Caleb.”

“Sleep well, Mollymauk,” he replied, voice soft, unable to parse the feelings that rose up in him when his words sent the prince to sleep with a smile on his face. For now, he just allowed himself to enjoy them. He was allowed to take pride in his work after all.

Volstruker did not need sleep the way mortal men did. And that night, as Caleb spent the long, dark hours watching as his prince slept peacefully, untouched by any more nightmares, he was so glad of that fact.

[velvet-cupcake-games]

Your work is amazing, I can't wait to play the second demo and the finished game! All the characters and the world building is incredible ^^ I was wondering how did you became a professional writer? It was something like "hey let's make this new experience!" or did you planned, studied make "audition" for it?

I’ve always loved writing, but when I was younger I didn’t have the discipline to write the long-form fiction I dreamed of creating. I taught English as a Foreign Language for a number of years, but found it too be too stressful as a full-time job, so I decided to try freelance writing. The online advice said to start with something you enjoy, and I’ve also always been a video gamer.

I started off by volunteering with a wonderful site called RPGamer. I learned a ton from everyone there, especially the wonderful (and dearly departed) EIC Michael Cunningham. As I gained confidence, I started pitching to paid sites and did regular work for a few. I was even able to work as a lead editor for a couple years before the sexism in the mainstream gaming industry started wearing me down. That’s when I took some creative writing classes and decided to finally do the fiction writing I’d always wanted to do.

The discipline I built up from meeting daily deadlines as a web writer has been invaluable in my work on Made Marion. I’m finally able to sit down and get all my ideas onto paper!  It’s not easy being your own boss, but I find it very rewarding and I love being able to work with the talented artists who signed onto the project.

It seems like every writer has a different story about how they ended up in this crazy world.  If I were to pick three things that are super-important for all of us, though, here they are: 1. Building the discipline to write to deadline and to sit down and write even when you don’t feel like it.

2. Being open to improvement, willing to edit, and learning to work with skilled editors without defensiveness. You don’t need to accept mean-spirited criticism, but being able to step back and work with professional feedback is vital.

3. Reading. Not every writer is a voracious reader, but most of us are. It was a love of reading that got me into writing in the first place, and reading writers I admire is an excellent way for me to gain inspiration and develop my own style.

[conceptstage]

A Mother’s Worry

AO3

Jester’s shoulders instantly relaxed as she stepped into the door of the Lavish Chateau. She sighed heavily and nearly fell back into Beau behind her. Beau chuckled and caught her and righted her back on her feet. 

“Glad to be home?” she asked, smirking.

“Glad to see my momma after so long.” She perked up when she saw Blud across the room and grinned, waving at him. “Blud!”

He glanced over and smiled softly, stepping around a patron and stepped up next to Jester. “It is good to see you well. Your mother worries. She had not taken a client this evening, would you like to see her now?”

Jester glanced back at others, a question in her eyes. 

Fjord cleared his throat. “We’ll get ourselves some rooms, you go on up. It’s late, we wouldn’t want to crowd your mother right now. We’ll say hi in the morning.”

Jester nodded at him but reached over to grab Beau’s wrist. “But you come up with me, yeah? Fjord, will you get us a room to share?”

Beau seemed surprised but nodded. “I- Sure, if you’re sure.”

Jester grinned and pulled Beau behind her up the stairs to her mother’s room. She knocked on the door and waited until it was gently pulled open and a young maid’s face appeared in the doorway. “Oh!” she exclaimed, slightly in surprise when she saw Jester on the other side. She pulled back and called over her shoulder. “Mistress! Your daughter is here to see you!”

“Let her in, let her in!” The maid opened the door and Jester hurried inside, pulling Beau with her still. Marion stood from her vanity chair, wearing just her silken robe, and smiled widely with perfect teeth. “My precious Sapphire!” She opened her arms wide and Jester dropped Beau’s wrist to run over and tackle her mother in a hug. The maid stepped out of the room to give them privacy and shut the door behind her.

“Oh Momma! I missed you so much!”

“It is so good to see you!”

Jester grinned and pulled out of her mother’s arms to reach for Beau. “And Beau! Beau’s here too!”

Marion looked up as Beau reached forward and took the hand that Jester was holding out for her, and frowned. She had schooled her expression by the time Jester spun back around to smile at her, but Beau had seen the dislike and distrust in her eyes. It wasn’t something that she was unfamiliar with, being disliked, but seeing it from a face that looked so much like Jester’s hurt a bit more than she expected.

“Beauregard. It is good to see you as well. Is the whole team here?”

Jester nodded, one hand holding Beau’s hand and the other hugged around her mother’s back. “Yeah, they were worried about crowding you so late at night, so they’re going to say hi in the morning.” She gasped and dropped Beau’s hand and her mother’s hug to start walking towards her old bedroom. “But I did want to pick up some of my old clothes while I was here.”

Beau’s eyes followed Jester as she moved about the room, shoveling clothes out of her dresser and armoire into her arms, but felt Marion’s scorn hot on the side of her face. “You need help?” she offered.

“Nope, I’m super strong, I’ve got it!”

Beau smiled fondly and shoved her hands into her pockets. Marion watched her carefully and then turned to her daughter with a smile plastered on her face. “Jester, darling, why don’t you do that in the morning? You can stay and talk with me for a while. I can braid your hair like I used to when you were younger.”

“Oh, I would love that. Beau, you can tell Momma about the Chained-”

“Actually, Jes,” Beau interrupted. “I think your mom would rather hang out with you alone. You know, catch up and everything.” She could tell when she wasn’t wanted.

Jester dropped the clothes in her arms unceremoniously on the floor and frowned at her. “Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll wait up for you in the room. You two should have a chance to talk.” She started towards the door but paused one moment to turn to meet Marion’s hard eyes. “See you, Jes.” Then she shut the door behind her.

She heard Jester’s voice yell “Bye Beau!” through the heavy wood but even Jester’s enthusiasm couldn’t lift her spirit. She scowled at the floor and marched down the stairs, looking for one of her friends in the main room. She spotted Caleb first, sitting at the bar and nursing a small drink, and marched over to take the seat at his side.

“Marion hates me,” she sneered, taking his drink and downing it in one gulp.

Caleb blinked in surprise and looked down at where his mug used to be. “You owe me a drink,” he muttered. 

Beau rolled her eyes. “I’ll buy you a whole fucking keg, man, just listen to me. Marion hates me.”

“Why?”

“Since when do people need a reason to hate me? Maybe I smiled at her once and it freaked her out, who the fuck knows?”

Caleb frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “You do have kind of a sinister smile.”

“I know right? It gives people the wrong idea about me, I’ve been working on it.” She sighed and waved to get the bartender's attention. She held up the cup she’d stolen and then held up two fingers and the man nodded in understanding. She turned back to Caleb and bit her lip. “I’m not usually bothered when people don’t like me because fuck them, right? They don’t fucking know me. But this is Jester’s mom…”

Caleb hummed thoughtfully. “And you are in love with Jester, so it must be hard.”

Beau sputtered and hurried to deny it. “I-I’m not in love with her, what- What are you-” The skeptical look he gave her stopped her in her tracks and her face felt hot. She sighed and covered her eyes. “Is it that obvious?”

“No, not at all.” Caleb paused when the bartender brought them their drinks and waited until they were alone again to continue. He cleared his throat and took a sip. “Nott told me.”

Beau sneered and started looking around the room for Nott’s illusion. “That little- I told her in confidence! I should have fucking known better.” She downed her mug and tossed a few silver onto the bar. “Have another one on me. I’m ready for this fucking day to be over.”

Jester hummed happily as her mother braided gently through her hair. There was a warm breeze coming off the coast through the window so she didn’t even feel chilly in her nightgown. “So,” her mother started now that they were alone. “There was something that I wanted to talk to you about, My Sapphire.”

Jester resisted the urge to look back over her shoulder at her and instead just let her continue the first braid. “Anything, Momma,” she said.

“It’s about that roommate of yours, Beauregard.”

Jester got excited at the mention of her very best friend, she sat up straight and grinned. “Yeah, Beau. What about her though?”

Marion hummed thoughtfully. “Her attraction to you was fairly obvious when you last visited me but now it has clearly grown and she will probably act on it before much longer. You should be prepared, Darling.”

The words didn’t quite register in Jester’s mind right away and she was certain that she had misheard. “Huh?” she asked.

Marion’s fingers paused in her braid. “Oh, darling, have you not noticed yet?” she laughed melodically. “Oh, if she were any more obvious she’d be wearing a sign saying ‘I love Jester Lavorre’ around town.”

Emotions started to swirl in Jester’s chest and she gasped. “In love? With me?! Wh-What? How do you know, tell me everything, Momma, did she tell you? Did she say?”

Marion chuckled and kissed her daughter’s head as she finished off the first braid with a purple ribbon. “She did not have to tell me. It was clear on her face. Her eyes followed you around the room like a sunflower follows the sun and when you touched her hand she melted where she was standing.” She sighed. “She’s utterly smitten. I think I will almost feel sad for her when you reject her.”

Jester was almost too focused on the fact that her mother was telling her that Beau, BEAU, was in love with her to notice the end of her sentence. “Wait, what? Why in the whole wide world would I reject Beau?”

Her mother had started separating the rest of Jester’s hair into three for a second braid, but she paused. “Well, of course you’re going to reject her.”

Jester turned sharply, ripping her hair out of her mother’s gentle grip. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?”

Marion seemed surprised by Jester’s intensity and blinked in surprise. “You know, Darling, she’s… undisciplined. Brash and uncouth, unwilling to bend. She will never be satisfied with staying put. She’s young, it’s possible that she could change at some point but you would not want to rely on that.”

“Beau doesn't need to change, I don’t want her to! She is not like that at all, Momma, you don’t know her at all! There is nothing at all wrong with Beau, she’s the very best, she’s amazing!” Jester argued, speaking so quickly that she could hardly breathe. “What are you, what are you even talking about? You don’t even know her at all, Momma!”

Marion frowned at her, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Oh, dear. You’ve fallen for her. Oh, Darling, must it be her? Why not Fjord? Or Yasha, she seems like such a nice young lady.”

“Beau is a nice young lady too! Momma, she’s the very best person that I’ve ever known and you can’t talk about her that way!” She had never yelled at her mother like this.

Marion sighed. “She’s only going to break your heart, My Sapphire.”

“You fell in love with someone that people said that about too!” Jester argued, pushing herself up to her feet. Her mother's face got dark at the mention of The Gentleman. “You fell in love with him and your momma told you that if you got married to him you wouldn’t be welcome home and you loved him anyway!”

“And he left!” Marion snapped, her voice rising at the end. 

Jester had never seen her mother like this, so… raw, so unrefined. There was hurt and rage in her eyes, not aimed at Jester, just at the world. Had this been inside her mother all this time? This pain? “Momma…”

Marion looked away sharply and took a deep breath in through her nose and held it for a moment to calm herself. “He left me. He left us. That girl is so much like your father… the way they stand, the way they speak, the way they smirk-” she cut herself off and shook her head. “The way they lie,” she hissed the word like water on a hot stove. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. When I met her it was like looking into the past and that’s when I knew that she was going to be trouble.”

Jester frowned and shook her head vigorously. “Momma, she is nothing like my father. She’s better, she’s so much better.” Marion didn’t respond or meet her daughter’s eyes. “Momma… are you saying that if I pick Beau that I can't come home?”

Marion’s eyes snapped up to meet hers so quickly that Jester was worried her mother might hurt her neck and she stood off the bed to tower over her daughter and then pulled her into a hug. “Oh, I would never, my Darling. Never. You are my precious daughter and my home will always be your home.” Marion sighed and pressed her cheek against the top of her daughter’s head. “Oh, my sweet Sapphire. I am just so worried that you will make the same mistake that I did.”

“Trusting Beau is not a mistake,” Jester whispered. “It is the best thing that I have ever done. They are nothing alike, Momma. She is better than him and I am not you. If Beau left I would go with her. Anywhere in the entire world.” Marion’s breath stuttered against her head and Jester knew that she was holding back a sob. “Momma… do you think that you could give Beau a chance? For me? Just talk to her, really talk to her without everyone else there, you’ll see how great she is and then you’ll like her so much, I know it!”

Marion kissed the top of her head. “I will try, my darling. I will try.”

She went back to the room that she shared with Beau and found her doing push ups in the middle of the floor with a book open on the ground below her head, reading it as she worked out.

Beau glanced up at her and grinned widely. “There you are. Why is only half your hair braided?”

Jester brushed her fingers through the part of her hair that was laying over her shoulder. “Momma got distracted halfway through.”

“A client?” Beau asked, pushing herself up onto her knees and picking up her book. “I thought she had the night off?”

“No, not a client. We started talking about my father and…”

Beau tossed the book onto her bed and sat beside it, raising an eyebrow at her. “And what?”

“And nothing!” Jester said hurriedly.

Beau seemed content to let the subject drop and folded her legs under her to sit on them. “Want me to finish it for you?”

Jester grinned. “Would you?”

“Course. Here, come sit.” She scooted back so that there was enough room in front of her for Jester to sit and Jester took the seat gratefully, tossing her hair back behind her ear. Jester sighed happily as Beau started separating her loose hair into three.

“Beau?” she started, kicking her legs idly off the side of the bed. Beau just hummed to let Jester know that she was listening. “Thank you.”

“It’s just hair, Jes, it’s no problem.”

“Not just that. Just… everything.”

Jester could hear a smile in Beau’s voice. “That’s no problem either, Jes. I’ve got you.”

“Yeah. I know.”