#I mean there are other things she could do the would not require the height

[darlingpeasant]

Was gonna say next season I wanna see l more of that shift in dynamic where Pen has Colin up against a wall, a full blown make out sesh or whatever but then really thinking about it, as a fellow 5’1 girly, she’d probably need a little step ladder so she can really and I mean REALLY go for it lmao

[thebibliosphere]

I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?

I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.

Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.

She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.

Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.

The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.

It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.

I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.

[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]

Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.

Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.

Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.

As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.

By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.

---

*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language

Important note: At some point in the chapter, the reader provides a way for Daemon to address her. However, I want to emphasise that what she provides him is a title she has earned in the language of her people. Please regard this title the same way when the reader is addressed as Princess or Queen or Niece or whatever. Daemon will not be explicitly given the name of the reader due to obvious reasons :3

Credits for the gif: @dailyhodtgifs

“I don’t have time for stupid riddles and meaningless mind games, woman.” Daemon spoke with a hard tone, switching the torch to his left hand so that his right hand could rest against the Dark Sister. “I will not repeat myself again – show yourself!”

The woman walked towards the steel bars with slow steps, the sound of her bare feet touching the wet stones of the ground made Daemon realise that she did not have any kind of footwear on. All she wore was a plain, silver dress; however, when the light of the torch illuminated her figure completely, Daemon realised that the dress was not that plain at all. The ends of both sleeves and the neckline of the deep v-cut were all adorned with diamonds which made one think as if they had captured the light of the stars from the night sky. 

Her long hair had that same unearthly glow to it, again. “I still find it amusing,” the woman spoke, her soft voice holding Daemon in a warm embrace. “That you can see me, talk to me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Daemon asked, not trying to mask his confusion at all. “You will be giving me some answers, woman: who are you? Why is it amusing that I can see you? And how did you know that I was not here in flesh when I first saw you?”

The woman chuckled as she held the bars with her both hands. “You desire to know quite many, Daemon Targaryen.” She raised an eyebrow at Daemon’s direction. “What will be my gain in all this? Why must I provide you with such information?”

The grip Daemon had on Dark Sister tightened, causing the eyes of the woman to drift to the sword fastened around his hip. “Your gain shall be keeping your life, woman.”

A small laughter left her lips as she took a step backwards, causing Daemon to frown upon her reaction. “You cannot end my life as long as I am here, in this cell.” Her words caused the frown on Daemon’s face to get deeper. “No one can. It is enchanted to keep me alive, without being fed or given water, through any kind of sickness or injury – you ought to try harder.”

“Is the witch keeping you here? Captive?” Daemon asked, the word enchanted had been enough to ring some bells in his memory. He should have known that it was the witch’s doing – they all had been her doings. All the things he had seen – or he had believed to have seen – and more. 

The woman nodded with slow movements. “I assume you have already met her,” she muttered, more to herself. “Explains why you weren’t really here before tonight.”

Daemon shook himself and took up a strong, authoritative tone to put an end to this unnecessary negotiation. “Fine, name your price then!”

“My freedom,” the woman spoke without even thinking twice. “You shall have all the information you desire and in extension, all the support you shall require from me – in exchange for my freedom from this cursed prison.”

“Fine,” Daemon muttered somewhat reluctantly. “Even though I cannot quite tell what usefulness you could possibly posses for me, I will give you your freedom.”

His words caused the woman to stand upright suddenly, showing her full height – she could be even taller than most Targaryen Princesses. Daemon found it utterly difficult to tell who and what she was – the aura she carried with her was with no doubt different than any other human without Valyrian blood. Hence, his guess would be that she was not from around here; however, she too was neither Targaryen nor Velaryon. 

It was almost that she was not from the world as the men of Westeros had known it so far.  

“What will be your question, Daemon Targaryen?”

Daemon didn’t even give himself a moment to think before the words lefts his lips. “Who are you?”

The edge of her lips curled upwards as she came closer to the bars, her face almost resting against them. “In your tongue, in the world as you know it, I do not have a name.” Her answer only caused the confusion inside Daemon to grow. “Your people and the people you rule neither know me nor my kind.”

“So you are no human?” Daemon asked, only to earn a nod from the woman. “What did your people call you?”

“Oh, I have had many names and I too was given many more names but my people preferred referring to me as, Lùthril.” The woman responded, she pronounced her name amongst her people with a different accent, catching Daemon’s attention even further. “Which is not my given name, it is the name my people seemed fit for me.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her. “And what does that mean? In the language of your people?”

Lùthril sent Daemon a cunning smile. “In your tongue, it means enchantress – roughly translated.”

The silver-haired man rolled his eyes in annoyance at her words. “Another enchantress? As if I didn’t have enough of those to deal with.” 

A soft chuckle left Lùthril’s lips. “Trust me, Daemon Targaryen, you have never had to deal with any enchantress of my kind, yet.”

With a swift movement, Daemon placed the torch on an iron holder hanging from the wall to his right. Then, he crossed both of his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow as he spoke. “And what would be your kind? You don’t look like any other men from Westros.”

“It is because we are not from Westros, at least not from the way you know these lands.” Lùthril responded, her voice felt like silk against Daemon’s skin when her words reached him, pulling him in a gentle embrace. “I believe the name of my people has been forgotten to yours for generations, perhaps there haven’t been any word to describe us in the common tongue.”

The gaps she left between her words was making Daemon furious, testing his patience but at the same time, he was more intrigued than ever – he found himself wanting to learn everything about her, uncover every last mystery she had to offer. 

“What about the language of my people?” Daemon asked. “Do you have a name in High Valyrian?”

The smile forming on Lùthril’s lips was so beautiful, so pure it could make the rarest, prettiest flowers in the Seven Kingdoms envy its beauty; even the clearest of the rivers could not compete its pureness. Perhaps it was a trick of the enchantress, he did not know, but Daemon felt his heart and soul were being drawn to her, the more he let his eyes devour her unearthly beauty.

“Valyrians used to call us Valargon,” she replied and chuckled upon seeing the sudden change in his expression. “I suppose you are no stranger to the term.”

There was no direct translation of Valargon to the Westrosi common tongue, it meant something in the lines of spirit people but that was not enough to catch the powerful meaning of the word itself. Valargon was used to describe a different race which looked similar to humans but were closer to the gods in every other sense.

“Don’t try to hold me for a fool, woman.” Daemon spoke with a hard tone, the feeling of having wasted his time was slithering slowly back into his mind. “Valargon are nothing more than some fairytale told in Valyria before the land met its doom. State your business now or I will make sure you meet your doom as well!”

Lùthril heaved a sigh as she shook her head in disbelief, the way she showed her King absolutely no respect was about to drive Daemon mad. One voice in his head was whispering him to smash her head to the bars until her pretty face was nothing but a mess of blood and broken bones. However, a different voice was telling him to be patient with her and was secretly yearning to touch her skin.

“Such a disappointment,” she spoke with a low voice which carried the hints of sadness, “that me and my people are nothing but a bedtime story to you. Look into my eyes, Daemon Targaryen. If you look deep enough, you will see the undeniable proof.”

A frown formed on Daemon’s face. “What proof?”

Lùthril motioned Daemon to come closer and his feet obeyed her without even letting him decide. Before he knew it, Daemon stood with his face against the bars separating the enchantress from him, her warm breath licked his skin when she spoke with a low voice. “What do you know about the connection between the Gods – the real Gods – and the Valargon?”

“Not much,” Daemon responded, being able to feel the heat and harmony radiating off of her body had made him drunk in mere seconds, he could not think about anything but her. Anything else wandering his mind few seconds ago was gone. “I barely heard that the Valargon were the last beings to have seen the eternal light from the Land of the Old Gods.”

“That should suffice,” Lùthril muttered, more to herself. “Now, Daemon Targaryen, you shall look deep into my eyes and if you look close enough, you shall see the eternal light for I have spent very many years living under its grace.”

[POV Change]

The moment Daemon Targaryen looked into your eyes to see the remnants of the ancient light, you swiftly reached forwards through the bars, pressing your right thumb against his forehead. Before Daemon could react, his very essence started falling down into the eternal light still captured inside the beauty of your eyes.

You showed him all he needed to see so that he would be ready to trust you in the end. Daemon saw you dancing on the moon-lit-meadows of the Land of the Old Gods, barefoot and adorned in white silk, the eternal light was visible on the shore behind your shoulders. As you danced, you were singing a sweet song in the Language of the Gods, the melody made the grass bloom whenever you hit the right tone.

The next memory was from the Feast of the Gods – right under the eternal light, all the Gods and your kin were gathered around the wooden table, which was adorned with the finest of food known to mankind. The Valargon maidens were serving the wines they have made from the sweetest grapes, celebrating the harmony of life and joy. 

Lastly, you showed Daemon the day your kind left the Land of the Gods on your ships, sailing east through the western waters, never to return to your homeland. The Gods, too, had left the magical lands around that time – after deciding that the era of magic, melody and harmony was over for the first men had set foot on the Earth. 

When men came, the ancient magic left the world, never to return, only to exist in the memories of those lucky enough to have seen it. 

Slowly, you left go off Daemon, freeing him from the clutches of the eternal light. When his soul returned to his body, he stumbled backwards, fighting to find his balance again. It took him a few minutes to comprehend what he had just experienced, all the while you waited quietly and patiently. For you knew that whatever Daemon was to decide next, would shape his destiny greatly.

“You are one fucking enchantress, there I have no doubts,” Daemon spoke with his usual careless and dangerous aura surrounding him; however, you could easily see through his façade – he was desperate to know how you could aid him in his mission, you being perhaps the most powerful being in the Seven Kingdoms at that particular moment. “They were all… true?”

He was referring to the memories he had seen a few moments ago. You nodded at him. “Those were my memories from a long, long time ago.”

Daemon frowned. “There is, though, something I do not understand,” he spoke cautiously. “How did a fucking Valargon ended up in Simon fucking Strong’s dungeons? It doesn’t add up.”

Heaving a sigh, you let your body slide down the right wall until you were sitting on the cold, damp ground – not that it bothered you, you could hardly feel it. “The destiny of the Valargon had to end in flames when the first Targaryen King arrived in Westros on the back of the largest dragon known to mankind.”

“Aegon the Conquerer,” Daemon said quietly, you nodded. “A Targaryen killed all your people, I understand – then why are you alive?”

“We all tried to overcome what was destined for us – the eternal light had to survive to see the end of all days.” A mischievous spark was visible in your eyes for a brief moment. “Thus, we tried to alter the destiny.”

Daemon shook his head in disbelief at your words, even the Rogue Prince himself did not approve of such behaviour. “Only a fool would meddle with the strings of the fate.” Of course, when he understood what you actually meant, the expression on his face changed. “And the said fool is standing in front of me, right, enchantress?”

A bitter smile formed on your lips. “I did it – I managed to change the destiny. However, it came with a terrible price.” Even mentioning those horrifying moments made you shiver in your place, you would give the days of your remaining life to forget everything you had seen on that cursed day. “As you see, all my people are gone and I am held here captive ever since.”

Slowly, without even realising, Daemon found himself sitting on the ground right next to you, on the other side of the bars separating the two of you. “130 long years and you have never tried to escape?” He asked with a rather mocking tone, failing to notice the way you inhaled his scent. “No magic tricks?”

You shook your head, pointing at the bars. “Did you not realise the missing lock or the door? This cell is being held with powerful magic. Only the blood of the man imprisoning me can set me free.” You added. “And coming back to your very first question: the enchantress of Harrenhal uses magic to keep me hidden from the eyes of men. Perhaps she has failed to strengthen her magic at the right time, hence it faded and you were able to see me.”

You heard Daemon cursing at the witch of Harrenhal, apparently she was being called Alys Rivers as of late. “That cunt of a witch has been around here since the Conquest?” You shrugged at his words. “Fucking cunt,” he muttered under his breath before speaking to you again. “What will I gain if I set you free? Can you aid me in winning my battles? Can you pour fear into the hearts of my enemies?”

“I will use my magic to aid you; however, your fate has been decided by the Gods long ago, Daemon Targaryen.” You spoke with a powerful voice as you stood up, from the looks inside Daemon’s purple eyes, you realised that he was, for the first time, seeing you as the mighty Lùthril you were. “It is no longer in my power to change their judgement. If you will, I can guide you through what was written for you in times of hardship and doubt.”

It took Daemon Targaryen a considerable amount of time to arrive at a final decision, through which you waited patiently, giving him the space and the time to make perhaps the most important choice at the crossroads of his destiny. Finally, when he rose to his feet, a Targaryen King stood in front of your eyes, determination radiating off of him.

“What must I do?” Daemon asked, “to set you free?”

As you can notice, my inspiration for the reader has been heavily influenced by Lúthien and Galadriel 💜

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa @superintenseart

[arctrooper69]

Hello! I love your stories. Could I request a Drabble about Wrecker being a body guard for a Princess trope? She likes him but he doesn’t think she does. And if it fits “Can you lock the door please?” From your prompt list. Thanks!

Hello friend! I'm so so so sorry that it's taken so long for me to get this out to you! I've been sitting on this for probably about a year now. So sorry! Also... it turned into a full-blown 12 page fic instead of a drabble. Hope you enjoy!!!! 😂❤️🫂

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The Princess and the Wrecking Ball

Wrecker x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Loss due to wartime, small mention of blood. Mostly just some cute hurt/comfort 🥰

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

"Really Hunter?" complained Wrecker, "A princess?"

Hunter frowned and nodded. "Yes. Just for a few days." He looked around at the others for confirmation and they simply nodded.

"Why do you seem to be the only one that has a problem with this?" Hunter gestured to his brother with thinly veiled frustration. He'd never seen Wrecker this adverse to a mission before. Even when it required rappelling from treacherous heights.

"Because last time he met a princess he fell head over heels for her and she hated his guts." Crosshair spoke evenly as he sat on his bunk, cleaning his rifle.

Hunter frowned, looking back at Wrecker. "Is that what this is about?"

Wrecker looked down, shrugging nervously. He rubbed the back of his head. "I just don't like Princesses, okay? They think they're all that and then they look at you with those pretty eyes and you think you've got a chance, and you think they really like you and then they realize that you're a clone and call you a stupid, ugly mistake."

The group was silent.

Hunter cleared his throat, "Well, you don't have to get along with her. We're just supposed to transport her safely back to her uncle on Coruscant."

Wrecker crossed his arms, frowning, "Why do we gotta do it?"

"She's in danger, Wrecker." Echo explained, "and it's a favor for Senator Amidala."

"Why can't she do it?"

"She's a senator. She can't exactly sneak into Separatist territory."

"Besides," Hunter added, "The princess' uncle has offered us a lot of money to get her safely to him."

Crosshair looked up. "You mean, we're actually getting paid this time?"

"But - " protested Wrecker.

Hunter looked at him sharply. "We're going to get that princess and you're going to treat it just like another mission. That's an order. Got it?"

Wrecker groaned, "Yeah Sarge, I got it."

"Good. I don't want to hear another word about it from you."

"Do I at least get to blow something up?"

"We'll see."

Wrecker grumbled under his breath. Hunter narrowed his eyes at him but didn't say anything else.

"Well..." Tech spoke up, "Now that that's settled, I'm making a list of everything we need to requisition."

Tech held the datapad out to Echo. He looked over the list.

"I can't think of anything else."

"What about the princess?" Wrecker asked suddenly.

Crosshair sighed, "Here we go again..."

"Hey! I'm just tryin' to be helpful!"

Hunter closed his eyes, "What about her, Wrecker."

"Well uh.... Won't she need things too?"

Tech looked up, "I have included rations for an extra passenger on the way back. That will not be an issue."

Wrecker shifted awkwardly. "Yeah but... What about... women things?"

Crosshair choked on his caf.

Tech blinked, “What women things?”

Wrecker shrugged, “I saw some ad on Coruscant for it once. I don’t remember what it’s called. Think it happens like on a full moon or something, every couple rotations?"

Tech lowered the datapad in his hand to stare at his brother. “She is a woman, Wrecker... not a werewolf."

Hunter closed his eyes again and sighed, rubbing at his temples. Some days he wondered how exactly it was that they'd made it as commandos this long.

"I'm gonna go ahead and veto that one. I think it would be a little weird for a group of elite soldiers to have uh... women things.... on the ship."

Wrecker grumbled, "I was just trying to be helpful."

Crosshair nudged his shin with the butt of his rifle. "Lighten up, Wreck. We are literally getting paid to play taxi for a pretty princess. We could do this in our sleep." He chuckled, "Actually I'm pretty sure I have done something like this in my sleep."

Tech rolled his eyes. "Don't be an ass, Crosshair."

"At least I can get a woman's attention if I wanted to," he goaded.

Tech scoffed, "For your information, I have had several females ask for my com frequency."

"That's enough!" Hunter placed his hand firmly on the table. "Seriously guys? You're acting like a bunch of shiny regs. This is a mission. We're going to act like professionals."

"Have we ever really been professional?" quipped Tech.

Hunter sighed, "Let me rephrase that. We're going to do this just like we've done any other extraction. We get in, grab the target, get out. Got it?"

A chorus of "yes, sir"s announced the end of the discussion.

---

The smooth finish of the once beautiful wood floor felt cold on your cheek as you hid beneath the bed.

"Run! Run and don't look back!" Your mother's terrified voice echoed in your ears, and then the click of the lock as she pushed you into the back hall. Then the shrill scream she'd let out as the droids dragged her away. You'd only run when you heard the blaster fire.

One shot. Thud.

Your father and brother crying out in anguish.

Two shots. Thud. Thud.

Silence. Then voices - modulated and mechanical. Cold and calculating.

"Find the girl."

"Roger Roger."

You felt the dust creep up around your fingers, digging under your nails as you felt along the floor. It floated into your nose and down your throat, tickling and irritating. You suppressed a heavy sneeze that popped your ears, making you aware of every tiny noise. The metallic, icy fear that gripped your chest twisted every noise into something mechanical and violent.

It has to be here somewhere.

There.

Your fingers found purchase on a small, metal surface. The biometric lock whirred to life as you pressed your fingers to the surface.

A hatch hissed open revealing a small room in the wall beside the bed. You crawled out from under the bed, dusting off your pants. It felt naked, being out in the open like this. Dangerous. Vulnerable.

Deftly, you climbed into the hidden room and the hatch hissed closed behind you, locking you in. A dim light illuminated a small room. An emergency com device sat on a stool in the corner and a blaster hung on the wall. A ladder along the back wall led upwards. You had been here enough times with your father that you knew it led to the rooftop. But this time, it wasn't a drill and this time, you were alone.

You dialed the frequency.

A trooper sporting a red and white helmet appeared on the screen. Though you couldn't see his face, he seemed bored.

"This is a secure channel. You shouldn't have this number."

"I..." your voice left your lungs as barely a whisper.

"What's that?" He sounded annoyed now. A knot formed in the back of your throat.

"Speak clearly, please."

"I need to speak to my uncle." The words came out forced and choked.

"Look ma'am, this is a secure channel for GAR personnel only."

Someone said something in the background and the trooper turned, "...nothing, Sir. Just some civvie with the wrong number." He paused, listening to whoever was in the room with him. "...yeah she's trying to call her uncle or something. I'll handle it."

The screen shifted and suddenly instead of the trooper your uncle's face appeared.

"I... I need help." It took everything you had left in you not to burst into tears as you told him what happened. How the droid army came. How your father refused them. How they killed his family first and then him. How you ran and hid.

"Okay," Came his soft reply. "Okay. Keep the door locked and stay where you are. I'll send someone to come for you."

----

The message had come in only a matter of hours and now you waited, lying flat on the roof, for the ship to come carry you away.

Smoke rose in columns. You could smell the fires and tried not to think about the screaming. The people - your people - were dying and there you were, hiding away. Waiting for a rescue that the common citizen would have no hope of. Their choice was to surrender or die. They would die here.

Suddenly shouts rang out just below. "Hey! You! Stop!" The cold, whiny voice of a foot soldier. There was a scrambling of hurried footsteps as whoever they were chasing ran and tripped. You peered over the edge of the building.

"Hey! Where'd you go?" The battledroid sounded confused. Whoever it was chasing hid well.

You watched the figure slowly crawl, inching his way along the entrance to a garbage chute. There were only two ways for him to crawl. A dead end or the garbage chute. The droid seemed to suddenly notice this as well.

"Ha. Ha. You have nowhere to hide now."

He looked young - only a child. Maybe 12 or 13. He looked terrified.

Gritting your teeth, you made a decision you hoped you wouldn't regret.

"Hey!" You shouted. Both the boy and the droid looked up. "You leave him alone!"

"Look, it's the princess!"

"Wait, she's not supposed to be here!"

Kriff. There are more of them.

"I'll take care of her."

Both turned their blasters towards you. The boy was gone but now you'd given up your position.

Kriff. Now I'm dead.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the inevitable blast that would carry you back into the arms of your family.

---

The blast came louder than you'd expected - more painful too. Your head throbbed fiercely and ears rang loud enough to muffle the sounds of yelling and blaster fire. The ragged edges of the wall lay rough and cold as your fingers found purchase on its stones, gripping tightly to shakily pull yourself to your feet. Something wet and warm trickled down your forehead, stinging your eye. You hissed as your fingers found the small cut above your eyebrow, fingers coming away red and slick.

Someone was shouting.

"Princess! Princess!"

This can't be happening. This can't be real.

"Princess!"

That voice again, loud and deep - shredding through the thudding of your pulse and the ringing shock in your head.

A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around you, yanking you from the ground where you stood.

Panic sprang from every pore in your body as you struggled against that impossible grip.

"Hey! Calm down! You're safe! I got ya!"

He was running. The world seemed to flow by as if you were watching it through someone else's eyes.

Smoke drifted through the sky. Fires burned hot and buildings lay broken and crumbled. The only thing that felt real were the strong arms of the man carrying you from the carnage. Away from everything you'd ever known.

---

Your eyes never left the burning horizon of your home until the vast blur of hyperspace wrenched it away. It was only then you found yourself taking a breath, gasping as if you'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Are you okay?" A figure knelt beside you, slowly drawing your gaze to him. Long, dark hair hung over a dirty red bandana. "My name's Hunter. That's Crosshair, Tech, and Echo." He pointed out each of his brothers, "and that's Wrecker. He's the one who brought you back here."

You looked up at him. The large man looked as if he wanted to say something but stopped.

Hunter got up to join his brothers, leaving you to sit alone on the bunk.

You winced, bringing a hand up to your forehead as the cut stung with the stale air of the ship. Wrecker's look of feigned indifference suddenly morphed to one of concern as he peered through the short passageway of the ship.

"Hey she's bleeding!"

Wrecker immediately grabbed the medscanner, turning towards you - then paused.

He glanced away, the urgent need to make sure you were okay, suddenly transformed into an anxious uncertainty. He rubbed the back of his head in a nervous gesture.

"Here you do it!" he grunted before violently shoving the device at Tech who fumbled it a nanosecond before deftly catching it with sturdy fingers.

Tech frowned, "You are perfectly capable of taking the scan yourself." He sighed as Wrecker averted his eyes. "...but I will take over from here if that is what you want."

"Thanks Tech... I - I just don't wanna make 'er uncomfortable, ya know... in case she's scared of me on account of how I'm... Ehh, you know..."

Tech raised an eyebrow. "I do not think that is a problem, but I'm sure she would appreciate your consideration."

---

Wrecker sat glumly on the floor, leaning against Gonky, watching as Tech headed back up to the cockpit. His eyes slowly lingered back to you as you sat on the edge of the bunk.

"See, she's staring!" whispered Wrecker, leaning over to Crosshair, "I don't think she likes me."

Crosshair shook his head. "She's just in shock. Her family was practically killed in front of her. She's scared."

You could hear them whisper, glancing over at the way you sat stiffly on the bunk he'd sat you on.

Wrecker, he said his name was. An apt name for his profession. Yet, contrary to the tales that Tech had regaled to you, Wrecker seemed to simmer to a calm around you - like any sudden movement might scare you away. The concern was nice, but unnecessary.

He'd seemed so passionate when he'd jumped to save you from that blast.

"Hold on!" he'd boomed. "I've got you!" And you believed him.

Wrecker - the calm within the storm, until he became the storm itself. That was a nice thought.

Lifting your feet onto the bunk, you curled into the thin mattress. You wouldn't sleep. You couldn't. If you closed your eyes, those sounds would haunt you again.

"Run!"

Screaming.

"No!"

Blaster fire.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

No sleep would come tonight if you could help it - but the heavy fluttering of your exhausted eyelids soon proved to be more than you could fight.

---

"She woke up screaming."

The words, supposed to be a whisper, echoed dimly from the cockpit into the bunk where you lay - not quite asleep, but not awake either.

"We all heard it, Wreck." Came the somber reply from their leader.

"Yeah." A moment of silence. "Think one of us should talk to her?"

"Maybe."

"Tech, you do it! You're good at knowing stuff."

"I am unsure if I would be a suitable candidate for a conversation on such a delicate matter. I can offer solutions to improve her sleep but I do not think that is the issue here. Perhaps Echo should be the one to talk to her?"

"I don't know..."

Another moment of uneasy silence.

"Aw, come on guys" Wrecker's loud voice complained.

"Shhhhhh!" Chorused his brothers.

"Oh. Sorry!" His whisper wasn't much quieter.

"Wrecker's right," Hunter spoke. "Someone should talk to her."

"Wrecker, you should do it." Offered Echo.

"Me!? Why? I'm no good at stuff like that!"

"Hmm.... Echo may be right. She does seem to have an emotional connection to you, Wrecker. More so than to us."

"Wha.... whaddya mean?"

"He means she likes you, Wrecker." His brother smacked him on the shoulder.

"Hey! She does not!"

Crosshair smirked, "Oh she definitely does."

Wrecker fervently shook his head, "Does not!"

"Does to! In fact, I heard her last night in the fresher." Crosshair's grin widened, "She was all 'oh Wrecker, ohhh'" he mimicked the sound of your voice in jest.

Wrecker froze. "She did not! Yer just making that up!" He glanced at Hunter. If anyone had heard anything it would've been him. Hunter glared at Crosshair, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, fine. I made that up. But..." he poked his brother in the gut with a boney finger. "I still think she likes you."

Wrecker frowned, rubbing a hand on the back of his bald head. He still looked unsure.

"Just get in there!" Crosshair kicked the back of his knee, causing him to stumble forward a few feet towards your bunk.

---

Wrecker sat awkwardly for a moment. He licked his lips. You blinked up at him, sleep still clouding your eyes in a confused daze.

He took a breath. He could do this.

It took you a few moments to fully wake, and another few to realize that Wrecker was sitting on his bunk, staring at you. A rush of heat stirred butterflies through your stomach - a feeling that had become all too familiar since being aboard this ship.

Wrecker looked nervous.

You blinked at him, tilting your head. He was still staring. "Uhh... Can I help you with something, Wrecker?"

"You dream bad." He blurted out.

Huh? A look of confusion crossed your face as a look of horror overtook his own.

"No! I mean.... I mean..." He shouted.

You jumped, startled.

He cleared his throat, looking mortified. "I mean... Ya... You..." he stuttered miserably. "Ya had a bad dream and I was just wonderin' if you were okay." He looked down, "That's all." He gulped. Great, he blew it. "I'll uh... I'll leave ya alone now."

He turned towards the cockpit, face red with embarrassment.

"Wait..." Your voice called out from behind him. "Wrecker wait...."

He paused.

"I... I think it was really sweet of you to come see if I was okay."

He heard you shift on the bunk, sitting up to swing your legs over the side.

"I... I'm sorry if I woke you up."

You sounded sad and Wrecker felt his heart crack. He turned back around, sitting down on his bunk again, facing you.

"Nah, I was already up." He chuckled, that explosive grin reappeared across his face. "Besides, it's pretty impossible to wake me up. Just ask Tech. One time him 'n Crosshair made a bet to see what they could do to make me wake up."

You giggled, the icy fear that gripped your chest began to warm. "What ended up waking you up?" You asked, genuinely curious. "Who won the bet?"

Wrecker grinned. "Crosshair did. He put a tooka treat in my ear and left the ship open. It was when we landed on Lotho Minor. There's lots of tookas around there."

You giggled, imagining a sleeping Wrecker surrounded by an army of tiny mewing tookas.

He was silent again and you felt those angry claw sneak their way around you again, freezing through your veins. Wrecker must have noticed, his smile faded.

"Didja wanna talk about it? Or..." he trailed off.

You shivered and leaned into him. Without thinking, he put his arm around you, pulling you closer - keeping you warm.

"I... It's just a lot to process." You said softly. "I just keep remembering. I keep hearing them die."

Wrecker didn't say anything. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see somethin' like that. Yer a princess. Yer supposed to go ta parties and drink those fancy juice things and eat those tiny sandwiches."

You sighed, "It's not all just parties and fancy stuff all the time, you know."

Wrecker sat up, looking at you. "It's not!?"

"No," you chuckled. "Sometimes it's sitting in on a really boring meeting. Sometimes it's learning how to fire a blaster in case you have to defend yourself."

"Whoa..."

You smiled sadly, "Lots of people don't like me when they hear I'm a princess. I think they think, that I think I'm better than them or something."

"That's a lot of thinkin'" Wrecker replied, not meeting your eyes. You chuckled.

It was silent again.

Wrecker cleared his throat, “I uhh… I think I know what you mean.”

You looked at him quizzically.

“A lotta people - “ Wrecker started, then paused. “Well, most people actually. They think I’m stupid just because I’m big and kinda slow with words and stuff.”

You frowned. “But aren’t you the demolition expert? You blow stuff up, right?”

Wrecker grinned at that, momentarily forgetting the awkward seriousness of the conversation before. “You bet I do!”

His smile was contagious and you found it inflicting its endearing passion across your own face. “Well then you can’t be dumb, silly!” you teased. “Don’t you have to be super smart to learn to build and disable all those explosives?”

Wrecker paused, “I dunno…”

You cut him off. “And not to mention the chemistry and physics and numbers it takes to do what you do so well!”

Wrecker shifted brushing his hand against your leg. You froze, suddenly realizing exactly how close you were to him - how his arm draped warmly around your back. The unexpected contact seemed to leave you breathless.

What was this?

Your skin seemed to burn where he'd touched you. You looked up at him.

This mountain of a man had saved you without even ever having met you before. He'd charged right into blaster fire, scooping you up as though you weighed nothing and he did it all with a smile on his face. You let out a shaky breath, shivering as he shifted and brushed against you once more.

Immediately, Wrecker jumped to his feet, realizing his mistake.

"I... I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare ya or... or touch ya... I..." He stuttered, "I... I'm such a..."

You looked up at him wide-eyed. "Wait! Wrecker stop!"

He paused, looking down miserably.

Now it was your turn to blush, "I... I didn't mind it." You said quietly, looking down at your feet.

He still looked unsure.

"I like being around you, Wrecker. You make me feel safe."

He looked down to where you patted the spot on the bunk beside you.

"You sure?" He asked tentatively.

You nodded, "I'm sure."

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he sat again.

"What?" You smiled, leaning towards him.

"I thought you weren't going to like me... Just like you thought we weren't gonna like you."

"Of course I like you, Wrecker! And I'm really glad you were the one to find me."

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

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[azure-cherie]

PAC :

What's in your store for January

Pile 1 -3

Hello love's hope you had a very happy and fruitful new year , I'm praying for the happiness and well being of all of us one more year together I'm so grateful for each one of youuu

Please choose using your intuition and take what resonates

If you'd like a personalized reading for new year

Paid readings , paid readings 2 , masterlist

Pile 1 :

First of all what are you guys even dealing with good lord The energy is pretty heavy , I will not be surprised if you have prominent Saturn in your charts this month I believe you are dealing with karmic cycles , Things ending in general, you might be a bit shaken up soon something you thought never would happen will happen

I'm sensing career or home sector fights could be there as well as inner conflicts beware and take precautions don't get too caught up about what others have to say rather choose your own story this also indicates you might soon take a stand for yourself its really required something has to come to an end because the time is over now you are to urge for more ! Financially! Abundance is written for you this time your creativity will pay off I know you like you play with fire but remember life moulds you like a clay some fire glazes some melts you gotta choose your own battles why do I feel like I'm talking to myself lol .

You will understand the worth of spontaneous plans soon sometimes you gotta do stuff for the sake of doing it and you just gotta act wild just be careful about the fact that everyone you go out with isn't a friend every co worker doesn't mean good for you learn to see through people's mask ! Theres one video by persephonesmind its perfect she explains it really well , followed by ten of swords some of you might experience a rock bottom moment however it isn't for everyone but with the world be assured you will pick yourself up this might seem like a bad ending but it's a good one or turn out to be good it's a matter of time bae anyone who tries to play you cheat on you will be ashamed themselves because they will see the purity in your heart .towards the end of the month I see some enemies becoming friends.

Pile 2 :

You're a bad bitch period !! This month is about embodying the best version of yourself move on despite the snakes around you ignore the people you're gonna be investing on something that is worth it it's a sign ! Friendships are something you will be blessed this month new and old you will also actively let go of a fear of yours I heart heights and abandonment issues.

If you're looking for commitment from someone it will be given this month like engagements marriage yay social media fame is also written there would be more family functions to attend to I see more active energy in this pile. You will understand the worth of standing alone and work your intuition through difficult situations .Your dreams might be a clear indicator of something also I feel you're making someone cry or someone is making you cry ask advice from someone who's been there in your situation you can also ignore if the situation isn't as important I also feel ignorance energy I guess it's good because you're also healing from abandonment issues .

You'll be doing some course on money management or get advise from your elders on your resources. Sometimes we make our own problems dont get sucked into that take time but let your loved ones know that you need it ! Also you really need that money management advice as you might end up losing something but I also don't think it will he a bad loss ! Sometimes sacrifices are necessary you might understand the worth of small losses now but that will protect from bigger issues later.

Pile 3 :

I don't dress for women I don't dress for men lately I've been dressing for revenge! That's your main mood this January you're gonna show everyone who didn't believe in you what you're capable of you're going new heights reaching new goals making new ways I'm so proud of you

You have struggled a lot to do this actions manifesting you are getting closer to what you want , might fetch yourself a new leadership position this month you're gonna be an example an epitome of grown beside the struggles because you're so ready to work despite all the sneaking going on behind your back you're gonna be doing the thing needed to defeat your enemies you will undergo momentary defeat and might cry for a while because you might feel all forces are against you this is the time to pour into your inter child

When trauma shows up remember to shadow work nothing ever goes away one needs to heal with it don't get swayed away with temptations and fake promises I heard devil is strong but so is the knight know that your emotional strength will lead you through this you have to be more intune with your emotions but also lead with logic it's a hard balance to learn but once you're on it you become undefeated and you will be I'm so sure about that.

Thank you so much for reading

Have a great day/night ahead ❤️

[utilitycaster]

(well, my feelings on Laudna are documented but I do think Imogen is a great character)

Oh! I found your blog rather recently but did you write Laudna meta early on? Or did you mean when the recent Delilah stuff went down?

I do not want to go too far into it and I suspect some of it is untagged (I have to find a way to tag for myself and not for the main character tags when writing crit) but in short: Laudna just...isn't a well thought out character. At every single Q&A panel and 4SD Marisha's summary boils down to "I wanted to make someone creepy, and then I thought 'what about a sun tree corpse, and what if her patron was Delilah'" and it it kind of stops there. When you couple it with the fact that Imogen was terrified of having any conflict with her until it became the only option, it really was like...I know Delilah was a big part of her backstory but Laudna did very little with her until episode 77 of the campaign. Like, for reference, Fjord had already helped fulfill 2/3rds of what his patron wanted and then broken his pact, gone without powers for almost 4 episodes, and found a new patron by pretty much exactly that point. There was almost no engagement with what it means to be a sorcerer (which Imogen covers skillfully even with all the new stuff that was thrown at Laura) and it was very little with an anticlimatic payoff for warlock (which, see Fjord, but also I'm not a big fan of Yu and at least they covered that concept adeptly).

Like...I remember at an early panel Marisha said "I don't want to think anymore" and the thing is like...it shows. Made a nonromanceable character and then said yes when romance came up. Didn't initially plan to take more warlock levels (already undercutting the idea of Delilah having much of a hold on her). Envisioned her character would be over her trauma and then extremely wasn't.

There's PCs I've disliked far more, or had more trouble with - Laudna's never been unlikeable. But she's always been just...profoundly disappointing until I gave up on her not being disappointing and decided she'd be there and do some cool things occasionally and never contribute a lot in the way of story.

For what it's worth, and this ties back to some of my thoughts on Campaign 3 generally, I do think that the CR cast could do another campaign in D&D in Exandria and it could achieve the heights of (pick C1 or C2 depending on personal preference; mine is C2 but I respect a C1 answer). But it requires a real session zero. I think the cast counts their mini playtests as a session zero, and I get it, because with the main cast there's not that same need to set personal boundaries or lines and veils because they know each other. But there isn't that same full-group planning. They've been releasing their Candela and Daggerheart session zeroes and just put out their Moonward one as well, and they talked extensively about the Calamity and Downfall planning sessions, and it's just...again, it shows. I think C1 and C2 work because, as I said in my post just now about Marquet, the characters sort of set the world and the campaign came from them. Once you have a more set plot in a more solidified world, I think you need to have that kind of group discussion, and they didn't, and Laudna especially feels indicative of that because I think a few pointed questions and Marisha would have realized there needed to be more to work with.

[dduane]

BTW… re: Smut

... off my comment to this post the other day...

I'm an entertainer. Writing's a form of entertainment. (And not just for the readership: for me, too.) To be aroused by art one's experienced is (almost by definition) to be entertained, I'd say. If someone's jerking off to my erotica, then all I can do is lean back in the typing chair, smile a bit, and think, Good! I got the job done. :)

(...with the tags: #and no I'm not going to let on where the smut is#why would i deny anyone the delights of the search#and of being repeatedly mistaken#while possibly finding smut writers who're better at it than i am#:) ...)

...and then noting (with affectionate amusement) some responses:

Well, troops, better get busy filling in that bingo box. 😄

Also: I have to say (while stressing that I absolutely appreciate the humor behind "shocked, shocked, scandalized...") that the dissonance is, temporally speaking, a bit ill-founded. Because while I may be best known for the Young Wizards works these days... by no means did they come first. This did.

A soft chuckle in the darkness. “Lorn, remember that first time we shared at your place?” “That was a long time ago.” “It seems that way.” “—and my father yelled up the stairs, ‘What are you dooooooooing?’ “—and you yelled back, ‘We’re fuckinnnnnnnnnnng!’” “—and it was quiet for so long—” “—and then he started laughing—” “Yeah.”

Granted, from the here-and-now POV of readers with access to the hot-'n'-spicy shipfic or PWP on AO3, this sort of thing (and the numerous other lights-often-off or dialogue-only sexytiems passages in the traditionally published Middle Kingdoms works) would be seen as pretty small beer: soft, non-edgy stuff. Yet in 1979 apparently there were those who found the sex and sexualities on display in The Door Into Fire arresting enough that the book got me nominated for the Astounding Award (for best new author in the field) two years in a row.

There's no question that the broadly inclusive tone set by the Middle Kingdoms books went on to affect and underlie the YW universe in very basic ways. (There've been some scholarly works written by academics who've picked up on this, so [much to my relief] this perception hasn't been just me imagining it.) But I'll grant you that those who don't know the MK novels wouldn't be in a position to make the connection. (shrug) This is just one of those things that comes of having a lot of fragmented readerships who don't know about each other... a side effect of having done a lot of different things during a career. I can also understand how not knowing about the MK works could leave people who know me only, or primarily, as someone writing for a younger readership, a little bit disoriented (or maybe concerned) when the issue of me writing openly sexual material rears its head. But that wouldn’t be a change of direction. It’d be, to some extent, more a return to form.

Anyway: I consider erotica—and its more casually-dressed (or undressed...) cousin, smut—to be perfectly legit forms of literary expression; ones that can soar to unexpected heights if you're willing to put in the work. The sexy-stuff-writing muscle requires periodic exercise if it's to remain viable and/or useful. So I exercise it. And being a 70-year-old person who sometimes creaks audibly when she walks has done absolutely nothing to decrease my interest in the subject—the brain being, after all, the biggest sex organ, and the one least vulnerable to the depredations of time. If anything, nearly fifty years of experience (and three and a half decades of marriage to @petermorwood) have added... let's just say nuance. 😏

Now this whole concept will doubtless horrify some of the "Eww, You're Too Old To Be Writing This Kind Of Thing, Go Get A (Home) Life" types. To which all I can say is, "...Well, good!" By and large, such folks are not my readers anyway. And as for any of them who are, and can't deal…? They need to understand that (pointing off to one side) those people over there—the various kinda-straight and pansexual and bisexual humans, and the gender-fluid fire elemental, and the otherly-gendered Dragon, and the mostly-gay ones enthusiastically shouting "We're fuckinnnng!" down the stairs—are Nita's and Kit's godparents. Without the members of that extremely mixed marriage and their increasingly extended family, there might be no Young Wizards series... not least because it was the splash made by the first of the Middle Kingdoms books that got the Errantryverse crowd in through a major publisher's door. And the series’s continued (modest but still noticeable) success through the second and third volumes kept the writing of new YW books going for a good long while.

...So. For those who may have had questions: HTH. 😀

(And now back to the unending search for a more graceful synonym for “testicles”.)

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

TO be honest. I don’t understand what it means when people say Merlin was Arthur’s bane. Mayhaps I misunderstand but. Arthur was a bit of an assassination magnet (not to mention all those magical creatures and bandits... so many bandits), and Merlin actively prevented Arthur's death for years, which would have occured without him anway in the very first episode. I can see why one might argue that Merlin was just delaying the inevitable, or that he didn't succeed in keeping Arthur safe until Arthur could enact the golden age, but certainly I don’t see how he could have been Arthur’s bane.

Also, it’s implied in the last episode that the golden age does occur, but under Guinevere. Which makes sense as she knew Merlin was the sorcerer and that she was pleased about it (and I recall it was confirmed in interviews), so I also don’t follow the twin train of thought that Merlin was his own bane or even Camelot’s. Camelot was already bane-d(?) under Uther. But partly because of Merlin's steady friendship, Arthur matured into a king who was kinder than his father. He also actively sought magic's aid on multiple occasions, so he knew magic had potential for good (like healing his queen) without Merlin needing to tell him about his magic.

I don't think it's fair to say Camelot's laws on magic remaining relatively static was because no one close to Arthur came out as having magic. There was still much risk in that, and for Merlin a lot at stake, not just his life. A law change was still possible (and almost seemed to be set up that way) without Arthur needing someone he was personally close to having to do the work to humanize it for him (in the sense that the episodes with the druids, the druid boy with Elyan, and the dolma seemed like they were pointing to a law change because Arthur sees the diversity of magic and those who have it).

At worst Merlin’s efforts didn’t change the status quo, but we do have things indicating that they did. And Merlin was not single-mindedly serving Arthur at the expense of everyone else. He saved Camelot as a whole multiple times. He was also very willing to stick out his neck for many others even during the height of his anxiety and agitation in season 5. (Also only being slightly silly when I say this, but he was also THE wingman for Arthur when he was getting with Gwen, so in a way Merlin’s help led to their courting being a success and thus contributed to her being in a great position to change the laws. so personally I give points to Merlin for that). Most of the decisions centering Arthur's safety seemed to stem from the fear that Albion would crumble before it began if Arthur were to die, so he tried his best to prevent that from happening in any way he knew. (Like, when Arthur is dying, Merlin asks "So I failed?" regarding the whole golden age thing, which I think is telling that the prophesy and his role in it was still VERY much at the forefront of Merlin's mind).

And this is a digression but I know people think Merlin should have done more for Camelot, or for folks with magic (like, as a revolutionary or something akin), which I understand but no one reached out to network with him really? It'd require resources, people (always confused why there weren't a whole bunch more folks offering Merlin material/intellectual/emotional support if they thought he should be the one to bring about the golden age. all he was told was that the forseen way it actually happens succesfully is through Arthur), time (I doubt it’d have been much of a ‘quicker’ way necessarily), and incredible planning + foresight if it's meant to be something that works out effectively + long-term. Okay I think I've digressed enough now. This is a whole seperate thought that I don't think I'm gonna do any justice here lol, and I'm already rambling, so I'll stop now :,)

But anyway, in terms of being his own or Arthur’s bane, we know Arthur will return, and we don’t know how Merlin spent his years. His magic can play with time and maybe he learns how to control that, or he could have entered a stasis like in various legends, etc etc etc. And I mean it is tragic on many levels, and it’s sad we didn’t see Arthur’s arc completed, and that Merlin sacrificed so much for a goal that didn't get much acknowledgment by the show at the end, but still. I don’t think Merlin was Arthur’s bane, or Camelot’s, or his own.

[marypaol]

One With The Wind

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has a fear of heights and doesn’t understand what all the hype about flying around is about, until she asks Fred to show her.

Warnings: Playful teasing? Friends to “lovers”, Acrophobia (fear of heights), that’s all I know of.

Note: For the lovely @marriinachoo -I hope this was enough fluff for you! (And I hope you enjoy it- thanks again for requesting!!)

Masterlist

Request Requirments

“I still don’t understand how you guys do that.” The girl said while the two flaming haired boys discussed the famous Wizard game every boy and girl wanted to try (besides her.) Putting a spoonful of food into her mouth, she looked up at the two.

The red head in front of her raised an eyebrow in question, and the replica of him did the same, making her laugh.

“Do what?” George asked.

She waved her utensil in front of her as a way to gesture to the two twins.

“You know, climb on a stick and go into the air in intention of beating a ball to other students; potentially killing them.”

The two boys laughed in unison despite her seriousness, so much so you couldn’t tell the difference between them and their laughs. They both smiled wide, the noise of happiness filling her ears as she watched them. Their heads turning to each other, eyes meeting with a mirror image as they only chuckled harder when the other person made a funny face that set them off.

“First off, love, it’s a broomstick, and we’re Beaters. That’s our job: to beat the ball to the other team?” Fred explained with a teasing smile sitting on his lips.

George chuckled. “I thought you’d know that by now. You’ve been dealing with us since First Year.”

The girl rolled her eyes in response at their teasing words despite the blush threatening to rise on her cheeks from the nickname Fred gave her.

“Whatever it’s called, I don’t know why it gets you guys all riled up. I’d rather watch than fly, thank you very much.”

George shrugged her comment off and turned to Lee Jordan who grabbed his attention, but Fred raised his eyebrow at her. Not in a confused questioning way, but in a teasing manner.

“Really? Rather watch than fly? Blimey.”

The last word was murmured, his wild head trying to comprehend the fact that she would rather stand around a bunch of sweaty teenagers and young children than to feel the wind in her hair as the simple yet powerful excitement of completion roared through her veins.

She shrugged in response, finding nothing of it. “I mean, yeah, because I’m too scared to; I could never.”

Fred made a face. “Scared? To fly?”

She nodded sheepishly. “I mean I can’t name a thing that isn’t scary about it.”

Fred scoffed, and since they were at the end of the table, he quickly got up and swiftly moved next to her, their shoulders brushing.

“Nonsense. It’s very exciting, actually.” He assured gently. He then grabbed his plate from the other side of the table, his silverware now in his hands.

He continued to eat as if her fears were simply silly, something so small she was making so big.

She hesitated before asking for conformation. “Really? But you go so….high.” She fought back a shiver when she said the word but her heart failed, the organ in her chest seeming to stagger out of fear just from the thought.

Fred nodded and turned to her. “You do go pretty high, but when you’re playing the game you don’t really think much of it; you’re distracting yourself from the height by doing so.”

She hummed softly, mind taking what he said and turning it over so she could see all the angles.

“So… if I were to go up on a broom and distract myself, then I wouldn’t be as scared as I think I would be?”

Fred shrugged, moving his fork to her plate and stealing a piece of cut up chicken that was there.

“I mean, it might not work for you, ‘cause I don’t even have a thing of heights, but it works for me despite my absent fear.”

She thought about it for a moment. I mean, she trusted the twins; maybe even trusted one more than the other. (Fred.)

So it wasn’t that that was keeping her from asking, rather it was the deep fear of the biggest, most negative solution to come out of it. What if she fell to her death and never saw any of her friends again? She’s too young to die.

She blinked, realizing she was staring into space while thinking such negative thoughts.

Her blink must of re-set her brain, causing her head to turn towards the boy.

“C-could I try for myself and see?”

Fred coughed out pumpkin juice at the sudden question, his mind so used to the comfortable silence they fell into he didn’t expect her to talk again.

“What?” He rasped, patting his chest. She chuckled, picking up her napkin and giving it to him to wipe his mouth.

She watched him do so as she repeated the question.

When she did a small smirk formed on his lips.

“Sure.”

“Yeah, no, I change my mind.”

Fred laughed in the breeze, the noise blessing her ears.

“Come on, it was your choice and you’re in Gryffindor for a reason. Hop on.”

Fred was currently standing on the ground with the broomstick in between his legs, the sand on the Pitch almost covering his shoes.

She shifted, her stomach turning at the thought of leaving the ground but she followed his order despite, legs swinging over the stick and arms wrapping tightly around Fred’s waist.

Her cheeks flushed but she didn’t take the time to recognize it, her chest occupied with a squeezing sensation of fear.

“Ready?”

His voice broke out her fear, the soft question falling from his lips so effortlessly, like it was a bird with wings and claws, using them to take her fear and fly it off into the wind, never to be seen again.

Sadly the feeling of courage only lasts for a second because as soon as she nodded softly against his robes, his leg kicked off the sand and they were no longer on the ground.

She bit back a scream but some of it slipped, causing a small squeal to escape.

Fred chuckled but she didn’t hear it over the wind, instead feeling his body shake from the laughter.

“Open your eyes!”

She didn’t want to, but the trust for him was strong so her eyelids fluttered open, the broom coming to slow yet calming pace.

Her cheek was still pressed to his back, but her eyes scanned around her and she was met with the breathtaking view of Hogwarts, the building standing as strong as ever as the wind flooded her hearing.

Her mouth came agape at the sight, her head leaving his back as she turned to look at everything possible, leaving no angle unseen.

“Hey, hold on tight back there.”

She rolled her eyes even though her arms were wrapped around his waist so tight he was struggling to breathe she bet, but she still laid her head back down on his back.

His skin was warm through the fabric, and it wasn’t the reason for the deep flush on her cheeks, traveling to her neck.

“Rather watch than fly, huh?”

She threw her Quidditch uniform on the floor roughly, despite the background noise of Oliver yelling to put it on so they had time to get out there.

She used the precious time she had to walk an over and give Fred a well deserved slap on the arm, his beautiful laughter once more filling her ears.

-I hoped you liked it! 💕🥺

[kimhargreeves]

New Mission- Clayface x Reader (Suicide Squad Isekai)

(Based on the upcoming Suicide Squad Isekai. Things won't be accurate of course but decided to have fun writing it. Making it the first fiction I've posted in almost over a year. Decided to have fun writing on the new Muzan lookalike😅)

(Based on the upcoming anime Suicide Squad Isekai)

We were all rounded up by Amanda Waller in a room as we all had chips implanted in our brain, ones that would explode if we're to disobey her and her missions for us. We all sported the same orange prison suit. I am a criminal in Belle Reve locked with my best friend, Harley Quinn. Like any prison its divided by men and women, Deadshot and Clayface on the other end. I frown as I glanced at Clayface or Basil Karlo his real name, I knew them before we got captured at separate time and place, but I never got along with Clayface both of us occasionally clashing heads and annoying each other....

"Ugh why do we have to be a team?!" I whine as I roll my eyes as we stand in a line.

Clayface glanced at me in annoyance as he leaned back in his seat, his clay face forming a frown as he spoke

"As if you're exactly a delight to work with yourself sweetheart"

"Haa?! I'm a great delight, the best to be around with! Besides you got caught way earlier than me" I remind looking at him. He smirked as he glanced at me.

"You're pretty full of yourself aren't you? I may have been caught before you, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you're more of a competent villain than I am. Let's not forget that you wouldn't be in this situation if you had been more careful in the first place"

"I'm as great as a villain as the Joker" I glare referring to Harley's boyfriend, he's still loose in Gotham.

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"Comparing yourself to the Joker? Please, that's an insult to my intelligence. The Joker is a criminal mastermind, someone who always thinks three steps ahead... You, on the other hand, simply rely way too much on your looks and charm in order to get away. The difference between you and the Joker is vast"

"Well of course I'm gonna use my beautiful looks! Every female villain does..like Poison Ivy"  I say shrugging.

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms.

"Ah, yes, the seductive nature of female villains. Ivy uses her seductive looks to manipulate and deceive her victims before poisoning them. But do not deluded yourself into thinking that you're on her level, sweetheart. Ivy possesses a depth of cunning and wickedness that you could only dream of. Comparing yourself to her is laughable"

I scoff . "Heh. no I'm not! She may be taller than me with bigger attributes but we work the same! *I blush as I defend myself.

Clayface chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

"Work the same, huh? It's not just her height or her attributes that make her superior to you. Poison Ivy commands nature herself, harnessing the power of plants and using them as her own personal weapon. You, on the other hand, are essentially a weak link with nothing but looks as your only strength. But hey, if you want to keep living in delusions, be my guess."

"Yeah right, any man would be lucky to have me!"

He shook his head, a dismissive scoff escaping his lips.

"You're quite deluded if you truly believe that, love. Do you really think that your beauty is the only thing that matters to men? You lack the intelligence, the wit, the charisma, and the darkness that true villains possess. And those qualities make a woman far more attractive than pretty looks.

I frown now remaining silent as I keep glaring. He looked at me with a smirk.

"What's the matter, love? Am I hitting too close to home? Perhaps you're realizing that you're nothing but a pretty face with no substance. It's not too late to change that though, although that would require some self-awareness on your part, I don't quite think you have that...yet."

I glare as I walk closer standing in front of him as he remained seated. "You said what?!

He grinned up at me as I approached him, unfazed by my proximity to him.

"Oh, don't worry, love, it's just a little dose of honesty that you desperately need. But by all means, feel free to continue being a shallow little girl using nothing but your looks to get by in life. I'm sure that'll take you far, won't it? Pfft, such a waste of potential...”

Oh yeah? We'll see about that. I glare as I lean down gripping his chin and pressing my lips to his.

He was caught off guard by my sudden gesture, surprise evident in his expression as my lips met his. He could feel the heat rising within him, and for a brief moment, he found himself struggling to maintain his composure. But then he pushed me away, a displeased frown on his face.

"Whoa there, love. I suppose you're trying to prove a point by using your feminine wiles, but let me be clear, I'm not so easily swayed by your charm, no matter how tantalizing it may be."

Hmm I smirk to myself as I touch my lips blushing a lot. "All men fall for me..it's just a matter of time before, well, before you do, Karlo.

He scoffed, shaking his head in amusement as he observed my confident demeanor.

"Ah, I see, you believe that I'll inevitably fall for your feminine allure. Well, I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but you're in for a rude awakening. Just because I can acknowledge your physical beauty doesn't mean I'm helplessly entranced by it. It'll take more than a pretty face to break down my defenses and win me over."

I frown but then smirked remembered an event. "Oh yeah? Says the man who before we got locked up came to me, and we had an amazing night together"

 Ismirk blushing, "Don't think I forgot about that.

He sighed, a hint of a blush creeping onto his cheeks as I brought up the topic.

"Alright, I may have conceded to your advances that one time. But let's not kid ourselves, that was a moment of weakness on my part. It doesn't mean I'm under your spell or anything."

I hum blushing as I hold my face. "You've always been adorable when you don't acknowledge yourself.

He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor.

"Adorable? Please, I don't do 'adorable' sweetheart. I'm a hardened criminal, not a fluffy little bunny. And as for acknowledgement, I don't need validation from anyone, not even you, love."

I smirk turning my back to him. " 'Oh, (Y/N)! Do it like that harder!' I fake a moan imitating his words

His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and he muttered.

"Sh-shut up. You know I'm not like that... And you certainly weren't so quiet that night either..so stop bringing it up"

"Of course I wasn't quiet! Was I supposed to?!"

He let out a huff, his annoyance growing.

"No, but I'd prefer it if you didn't go around reminding me of that particular moment. It's embarrassing, alright? I have a reputation to uphold..and having a pretty little villain like you turn me into a weak little-"

He stopped mid-sentence, cutting his words off before he could finish.

I blink surprised and blushed immensely hearing those words.

Realizing that he had said too much, he quickly changed the topic, a scowl on his face.

"Anyway, that's all in the past. It's done, I've moved on, and we have bigger things to focus on than some random one-night stand. So let's just forget about it and move on, shall we?"

I kept blushing and tilted my head. "You..think I'm pretty?

He hesitated for a moment before admitting it.

"Well, you're not displeasing to the eye I suppose. But let's not get carried away, your looks aren't enough to make up for your lack of intelligence and wit. There's more to a villain than just good looks, love. You may be pretty on the outside, but there's nothing to admire on the inside" he scoffed.

I smile as I blush grabbing his arm to hug him. Wanting to tease but also touched by his words.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by my sudden display of affection. "What in the hell are you doing?" he said, a tinge of confusion in his voice

He let out a deep sigh, his annoyance momentarily forgotten as you hugged him. “Oh, fine, enjoy your little affectionate moment. But don’t think this changes anything between us, love. I still find you incredibly aggravating.”

I hum smirking and winked. "Okie dokie “Ugh, you're insufferable” he muttered, his annoyance returning. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but secretly feel a bit of warmth from my affection. “Now can we get back to the matter at hand? We have a mission ahead of us and I'd like to get it over with without any unnecessary distractions.”

I let got of him as Harley came to my side.  Harley, who had been observing the interaction between you and Clayface, couldn't help but chuckle.*l

"Looks like ol' Clayface is softening up a bit, huh? You got him wrapped around your finger, (Y/N)."

I smirk as I hear her. "Guess I do don't I?! I chuckle and you're lucky to have a guy like Joker so devoted to you Harley's eyes lit up at the mention of her relationship with the Joker.

"Ain't that the truth! My puddin' is one of a kind. Who needs a normal guy when you can have the Clown Prince of Crime himself, am I right? We're meant to be together!"

"Absolutely, Harls" I smile at my best friend, "Definetly a keeper"

Clayface rolled his eyes at the exchange between us two.

"Yeah, yeah, we get it. You two are both in love with crazed lunatics. Typical behavior for female villains, right? But when it comes to real villainy, I prefer my partners to be cunning, manipulative, and ruthless. Love is a weakness and I don't have time for that nonsense."

I pout a bit looking at him since I didn't expect him to be listening on us as Harley and I fangirled  and had a girl chat. "Yeah yeah keep saying that, Harley and Joker are the perfect couple.

He scoffed, shaking his head in amusement.

"Perfect couple? Please, they're just a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Love never lasts in our world, especially not for criminals like us. One day, Joker will tire of Harley, and she'll be left shattered and broken. But hey, if you two want to idolize that mess, be my guest."

I held Harley back as she tried to grab him.

He raised the eyebrow, his expression a mixture of amusement and irritation.

"Oh, what's the matter, love? You don't like hearing the truth? That your precious Joker and Harley are just a recipe for disaster? Maybe you should face reality and realize that true villains don't waste their time on love. But go ahead, keep clinging to your delusions if it makes you feel better"

I sigh turning to Harley. "I'm sorry, Harls...don't listen to him you both are adorable together"

Harley scoffed, still trying to break free from your grasp.

“Yeah, (Y/N), I'm not gonna listen to him. My puddin' and I are meant to be, and nothing he says is gonna change that.” Clayface just smirked, clearly amused by the duo's fierce loyalty to their dangerous partners.

Of course! And you have my full support" I chuckle.

He chuckled, shaking his head at your supportiveness.

"Oh, how sweet. The two of you supporting each other’s delusions. It's like watching a pair of love-struck teenage girls with their first crushes."

"Well...duh?" I tilt my head

He rolled his eyes, clearly unamused by my attitude.

"Of course you would see it that way. But let me tell you something, love. Loving a villainous psychopath like the Joker isn't some romantic fairytale. It's a twisted, destructive path that only leads to heartache and ruin. But I suppose you two are too blinded by your naive notions of love to see it that way."

I blush as I look at him my eyes almost turning to hearts. So fun to tease him.

He raised an eyebrow, noticing the shift in my expression. The sight of you blushing and staring at him with hearts in your eyes was...unexpected.

“What's with that look, love? Are you getting sentimental on me now? It's not very villainous of you.”

Harley grabbed my face telling me to try and stop blushing.

He couldn't help but crack a slight smile at my flustered state.

"Oh, look at you. All embarrassed and flustered like a damsel in distress. Is there something I said that has you all tongue-tied, love?"

I blush looking away a bit. "Everything..idiot" I mutter.

He smirked, his amusement growing. "Ah, so I have that effect on you, do I? Well, as charming as that is, I'm afraid we have more serious matters to discuss than my ability to make you blush. We are in the midst of a mission, after all."

Fine fine *I sigh and turn to glare at the woman in charge. "Waller! What the hell do you want us to do?!" I ask our superior bitch.

Amanda Waller spoke up, her tone as cold as ever.

"Well, if you can stop bickering like children, I'll fill you in on the details. We have intel on a secret government facility dealing with advanced weaponry and experimental technology. Your mission is to infiltrate the facility, gather information, and sabotage their operations."

I sigh loudly and groan. "You're no fun, lady." Harley nods agreeing.

Waller fixed you with a stern gaze, unfazed by my attitude.

"I'm not here to be fun, Miss (Y/N). I'm here to ensure that we achieve our objectives. You all have been chosen for this mission because I believe you each possess...unique qualities that will help us succeed. So if you're done wasting my time, let's move on to the details."

I frown. He chuckled, enjoying my reaction to Waller's intimidating demeanor.

"Don't worry, love. I'm sure we'll find some way to inject a little fun into this mission. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of "unique qualities" she sees in us..." Waller continued on with the mission briefing, outlining the facility's security measures, layout, and potential threats.

Amanda Waller put Rick Flag to keep an eye on us along with his side kick Katana. Both serious about the mission.

Rick Flag, a no-nonsense soldier, stood by Amanda Waller's side, his eyes scanning over the group of criminals. Katana, meanwhile, stood quietly beside him, her sword glinting in the dim light.

"Our priority is to make sure this mission is successfully carried out," Flag said in a steely tone. "We'll be keeping a close eye on all of you."

A man on our team Peacemaker confronted him, seems like they'll be at each other's throats.

Peacemaker, a cocky ex-soldier, faced off with Rick Flag, his ego and brash attitude evident in the way he spoke.

“I don't need you babysitting me, Flag. I've got this.”

Flag glared at Peacemaker, clearly not amused by his arrogance.

“We're doing things by the book, Peacemaker. No solo heroics, got it?”

"Whoa whoa men let's try to not kill each other, okay?! We haven't even left prison yet" I say stepping between them.

Harley, ever the voice of (a different kind of) reason, chimed in..

“Yeah, fellas, let's not start this mission with a brawl, alright? We gotta play nice for now. Can't afford any in-fighting with Amanda Waller watching our every move.”

Flag nodded, clearly agreeing with the group’s sentiment.

“Fine. We’ll put aside our differences for now. But I’m warning you all—if any of you try anything that threatens this mission, I won’t hesitate to take necessary action.”

I roll my eyes but smiled. "Ready to serve under you!"

Rick Flag smirked a little at my sudden change in attitude.

“That's the spirit. Let's get loaded into the vehicles and make our way to the facility. Remember, once we're inside, we'll need to stick together and follow the plan. No going off on your own, got it?”

"Right!" We all said. We reached outside once we got rid of our prison clothes and into our civilian ones or villain ones as people would call it.

As the group of villains exchanged their prison uniforms for casual civilian clothes, they boarded the vehicles, ready to embark on their mission. The ride to the facility was tense, with the villains aware of the gravity of what they were about to undertake. Clayface glanced over at you as you got into the vehicle, his eyes locking on your civilian outfit.

"What?" I ask glancing up over to him

He shrugged, a cocky smile on his face.

”Just admiring the view. You know, even out of your villainess get-up, you're still a sight for sore eyes. Makes me wonder if you ever stop looking good."

Aww falling for me then? *I smirk blushing again.

He smirked and rolled his eyes, playing it cool.

“Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I'm just appreciating a pretty face when I see one. It doesn't mean I'm falling for you or anything."

I huff pouting as I cross my arms over my chest.

Clayface chuckled, finding your pouting adorable.

"Aww, don't pout at me, love. You know I can't resist your little puppy dog eyes when you do that. But don't worry, I won't let myself fall for you... I'm far too cunning and heartless for that."

"Ha! See? Every guy falls for me" I sing

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle at your confidence.

“Oh, is that so? Well, I must be the exception to that rule because I am utterly unbothered by your feminine wiles. I'm completely immune to your charms, love.”

"God damn it I'm gonna throw up" We heard Peacemaker say making me frown at him but not taking him seriously.

Clayface turned a glare towards Peacemaker, unimpressed by his comments. “Watch it, Peacemaker. We're all here to get this mission done. No need to be disrespectful. Besides, if you're feeling sick, try taking deep breaths or maybe even closing your eyes. Anything but spewing insults at others.”

"Huh?! You both are the ones making me sick not the car ride" he says pointing at Clayface and I. Having stoic expressions.

Clayface couldn't help but scoff at Peacemaker's words.

“Oh, I'm sorry if our presence is too much for you to handle. Perhaps we should ask Amanda Waller to arrange a separate transportation for you, given that you seem to be so easily nauseated by our mere existence.”

I roll my eyes "..typical men..." I whisper to Harley.

Clayface couldn't help but overhear my comment, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, did you say something, love? I couldn't quite catch that. Care to repeat it for the entire team to hear?”

Didn't say a thing" I quickly reply.

He arched an eyebrow, clearly not believing you for a second.

“Oh, really? Is that so? Because it sounded like you just mumbled something about ‘typical men.’ Seems like you have quite the habit of muttering things under your breath, love.” I hum glancing at him as he sits to my right and Harley left, "shut up."

He chuckled, a smug grin on his face. “Oh, you never fail to amuse me, love. Maybe I should start a tally of all the times you tell me to shut up. I'm sure it'll be quite the impressive number by the end of this mission.”

I roll my eyes and we all remained silent during the long car ride. Harley has fallen asleep on my left shoulder and I began to close my eyes, nodding off and rested my head on my right where Clayface is.

Clayface noticed you dozing off, your head resting against his shoulder. For a moment, he pondered whether to wake you or let you sleep, but ultimately decided to allow you to rest. As he continued to keep watch, he couldn't help but notice the way your face looked so peaceful while you slept, your usual fiery demeanor completely absent.

I blushed as I remained deeply asleep.

Clayface found himself unable to resist a small smile as he observed your peaceful expression and the gentle blush on your cheeks. Despite his attempts to remain aloof, a hint of affection tugged at his heartstrings. The sight of you at peace reminded him that beneath your tough exterior, you were just a human being with emotions and vulnerabilities, just like himself.

*************

Don't know how long it has passed when the car stopped.

As the vehicle came to a halt, Clayface gently nudged you, trying to rouse you from your slumber.

“Time to wake up, love. We've arrived at the facility. And I've got to say, your drool on my shoulder isn't exactly the most flattering accessory.”

"Huh?!" I blushed fully waking up now, II quickly pull the sleeve of my jacket as I attempt to clean it. " I'm sorry, okay? You should've woken me up when you felt it"

He chuckled softly, clearly amused by my  reaction.

“It's fine, love. Accidents happen. But I must admit, the sound of you apologizing is a rare treat, especially considering your usual defiant attitude. Maybe I should keep you asleep more often. You're much more agreeable this way.”

"Ugh...don't you try to bring my apology up."  I warn.

He grinned, unable to resist teasing me.

“Oh, I plan to bring it up every chance I get, love. But for now, we've got a mission to focus on. Let's get this done, and then we'll see what else we can do to keep you in this more cooperative state.”

I grit my teeth and huffed stepping out and seeing a place which wasn't Gotham. "...where the fuck are we?"

Clayface followed closely behind you, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

“Looks like Amanda Waller has picked this place for the facility. No surprise there, she's always one to keep things under wraps. Judging from the scenery, we're probably in the middle of nowhere. No city in sight, just wilderness.”

Rick stepped forward with Katana.

Clayface glanced at Rick Flag and Katana, his expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't the fearless leader Flag and his deadly sidekick Katana. How nice of you to join us. So, what's the plan, Flag? Are we just going to stand here in the middle of nowhere and admire the scenery, or is there a mission we're supposed to be undertaking?”

Rick said nothing and Katana remained silent as usual. Rick grabbed his equipment and told us all to follow him.

Clayface smirked at Rick's annoyed response, clearly amused by his irritation. He glanced at you and Harley, motioning for you to follow as they fell into step behind Rick and Katana.

I groaned "I hate walking...hey, carry me" I say behind him unashamed to ask.

He rolled his eyes, an amused smile playing at his lips.

“Oh, is our tough little villainess tired already? Wanting a ride, are we? And here I thought you'd be able to handle a little stroll on foot.”

I pout as I look away. "That's what you said last time about wanting a ride" I mutter on the..different type of ride he had asked.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by my innuendo. His smirk widened, as he responded with a teasing tone.

“Well, love, if you think this walk is too much for you, I suppose I could give you a ride. But only because I can't resist seeing that adorable pout on your face.”

I hum and quickly got behind him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

He couldn't help but chuckle, easily lifting me up in his arms as he carried me in hud back.

“Well, aren't you quite the opportunist? Ready for your chariot, love? Just don't get too comfortable, I might just toss you around if you start getting too cheeky.”

"Hey hey! Very careful on tossing me!" I warn as I glare and blushed. "and quit touching my ass!"

He smirked at the warning, clearly enjoying teasing me.

“Oh, I'll be careful, love. I wouldn't want to upset my precious passenger and get a well-deserved beating from you. But as for your rear, well, it's a bit hard to avoid when you're this close to me. Perhaps you should be the one being more careful.”

"If you let me fall me I'll kill you" I warn as I hold onto his shoulders as he carries me from behind.

He laughed lightly, his voice full of mock concern.

“Oh, such a threat! I promise not to dump you, love. After all, it'd be a shame to lose my human backpack so soon. But keep making those endearing threats of violence, I have to say I do find them quite charming.”

I silently hum and smiled to myself as I rested my head on his shoulder as I held him and he continued to carry me. Only this mission will tell if we'll get closer to each other.....

[turbulentscrawl]

Alva Lorenz General HCs

You'll have for forgive me for any typos--this man's been on my mind for two days and I have to get these out. I'm too impatient to check everything hahah

-Alva did not actually betray Luca by passing off any pf Herman’s work as his own. Though he did always maintain some interest in the concept of a perpetual motion machine, Alva didn’t dedicate much time to working on it after Herman’s death. He did, however, start the fire which killed Herman in an outburst-fueled accident similar to how Luca later killed him. Alva, however, escaped suspicion of the event and was not legally punished.

-Alva knew Herman had a son and, though he never personally met Herman’s family, knew who Luca was through grapevine rumors. He agreed to take Luca on as his student partially out of guilt for his unexposed crime, and partially because he had no children of his own and quickly felt a certain parental urge for Luca. They shared a lot in common and got on very well, very quickly, and their relationship was great right up until the accident. The documentation that seems to indicate their relationship deteriorating is coincidental. (ex, Luca’s experiments slowly transitioning from both he and Alva signing off on them to just Luca was Alva giving Luca more independence because he trusted him, rather than them growing apart or secretive.)

-I think Alva may be autistic. He doesn’t require much in the way of accommodations, and he doesn’t have the sensory issues that Aesop does. However, his speech is sometimes overly flat, his view of the world a bit rigid, his social energy levels are low, he’s prone to bouts of depression, he fixates on his work a lot, and he often fidgets with things like pens and clothes. He enjoys touching various textures, and often expresses appreciation for the material of people’s clothes. Additionally, he’s made a living out of his special interest: inventive engineering.

-Alva is a solemn and polite man. He’s rather chivalrous, but reserved, and as a result was admired by many for his mysterious-gentleman air. “Hermit” is an apt name for Alva, however, as he rarely enjoyed the company of others. He especially felt overwhelmed in large groups. He has always preferred one-on-one socializing, and even that he had a smaller tolerance for than was typical for men of his class. Luckily, he doesn’t have much in the way of a temperament, so when he’s tired of socializing, he’s just that: tired. Sexy Old man.

-To specify, when I say chivalrous, I mean he’s the kind of man who holds doors open for others, offers his hand to help them up from a seat or down from some height, share his umbrella in the rain, and would even lay his coat in a puddle for a lady to cross over. He offers chivalry moreso to women than men, but if a man presents as meek or shy enough in his presence he will extend the gestures to them as well, hoping to make them feel more comfortable.

-Alva’s only family at the time of his death was his wife. She was barren, and they had no children, and all the rest of his family had passed due to age or illness. Luca therefore became something of a surrogate son to Alva over the years. Though he sometimes struggled to show it, Alva cared for him like blood and always looked out for him.

-Alva didn’t care much about his overall predicament, after being resurrected. His religious proclivities were more for show than anything, so being a chosen of some…eldritch-cat-god is hardly the worst of his concerns. Until the manor, he hadn’t been expected to do anything he considered reprehensible or very immoral, so he’s always been fine with just completing his orders so he could go back to his work.

-After joining the manor, Alva’s only real comfort is his work. In life, inventive engineering was his method of self-expression, the way he interacted with the world, his reason for living. That changed a bit when his wife came along, and then again for Luca, but with those gone he’s back to his reclusive nature. It takes a long time for Alva to make friendships in the manor. He’s familiar with Ann out of necessity, but they’re merely cordial. With time, he becomes friendly with a small handful of others, but his melancholy is still pervasive.

-Inevitably, with enough time at the manor, Alva craves reconciliation with Luca. He doesn’t entirely blame Luca for what happened. At the end of everything, Alva knows the accident was an accident as well as a misunderstanding. (And also probably some kind of ironic, cosmic retribution for him killing Herman.) The trouble is, Luca does not remember him at all, or what happened. He knows from a few conversations that the boy’s cleverness is still in-tact, but his memories are almost entirely gone. As far as Alva is concerned, this means he’ll never get the closure of genuine, mutual apologies, and he’ll never have his “son” back. Not really.

-When Luca was his student, they were a powerful duo in public. Alva, despite being respectful and courteous to individuals, has never ‘jived’ with society as a whole. He doesn’t care about public opinion and is easily exhausted from public exposure. Luca, meanwhile, is a social butterfly. They were both charming, and worked out a system for any public appearances Alva needed to make: Luca would handle most of the talking—unless Alva’s interest was specifically sparked by some topic of conversation—so Alva could do his best to actually enjoy the atmosphere. And when Luca was ready to go, you best believe Alva was ready with their excuse to bail. The two were always favorites at any party or event, and always had interested suitors close at their heels.

-Despite being overwhelmed by conversation and crowds, Alva does enjoy the set-up for a lot of public events and parties. He likes the artfulness of decoration, and always takes time to appreciate the hard work put into setting up things like that (and once again, he loves to touch, feels the textures). He especially loves flowers. He occasionally finds loud music to be a bit overstimulating. Similarly, he likes fireworks, but requires earplugs to enjoy them fully.

-Alva’s age (at time of death) was somewhere between 40-45. His undead body is no longer aging, so physically he’s the same. Sometimes Alva misses his longer hair, but unfortunately that’s not growing anymore.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

November MC of the Month: Riikka Lovisa Yläkorpi

Please welcome November 2023's MC of the month! Each month, we will highlight one MC or OC that is currently on our Meet My MC / OC List. The MC / OC is selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s MC of the month is…

@aallotarenunelma 's Riikka Lovisa Yläkorpi!

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

What I love most about Riikka is how she always finds a way to talk about Finland and share about her Finnish culture. She was born and raised there until she moved to Westchester when she was 2. Her father was born and raised in Porvoo/Borgå, Finland and her mother was born and raised in Astoria, Oregon, where there's an important Finnish community. It explains why she's so deeply connected to her Finnish roots.

Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

Riikka and I share the same height (163 cm), the same main love language (quality time), and a love for raspberries and salmiakki. We also share the same romantic and sexual orientations (demigray), but that was completely accidental. It was only a few months ago that I realized I was also gray, not just demi.

Unlike her, I don't have Asian origins, I have only one culture and one native tongue, I am not an only child, I am not allergic to peanuts and spring is not my favourite season.

What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life? Happiness is most important to her. Happiness for her and also for everyone else. She wishes for people around her to be utterly happy, especially her loved ones.

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes? Riikka's biggest pet peeves are cruelty and any forms of abuse. She also dislikes peanuts because of her severe allergy and rutabagas.

If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be? That would be hanging out with Mr Red. If she could go back in time, in every timeline, she would not follow Jane and would tell her how bad that idea is. Each time, it has impacted the group and left Dan with PTSD and a high level of anxiety to manage.

What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song? "Voimallinen tahto vie miehen läpi harmaan kiven." ("A strong will takes a man through a gray rock.")

This quote is from the classic book Seitsemän veljestä (The Seven Brothers) by Aleksis Kivi.

Because Riikka has a silly side, she enjoys telling Dan "eteenpäin sanoi mummo lumessa", which translates into "forward, said granny in the snow". It means to keep going through difficulties with determination.

Both quotes are about sisu. It's a Finnish concept hard to translate but that could be explained as perseverance, strength of will, tenacity, courage, bravery during moments that seem hopeless.

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?  (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your OC - an acceptance speech. :) )

Riikka is very special to me because she's my first ILITW MC. Unfortunately, she passed away in a violent manner during my very first playthrough, leaving me shaken. I had to grieve her before being able to replay the book and create another MC.

Because I couldn't forget her, I decided to write a series, Darker Than Night, that follows the original timeline. It's very angsty but also cathartic.

I also had the idea of an AU series telling about how the lives of the children would have changed if they hadn't had the sleepover in the woods. This AU series is titled In Joy and Sorrow and it starts when they are in junior, so a year before when the book starts. I love this series because I can talk about so many important and different topics, and there are wonderful OCs. Even my four other It Lives MCs are dropping by from time to time.

Thanks to this series, I've really gotten to know Riikka, and I keep on learning about her. And now, she can fully live a great life she should have never lost so young in the first place.

Here are some stories to learn more about Riikka:

Darker Than Night

Joy and Sorrow

[sweaterkittensahoy]

For the MotA OC hotties, some crochet things you could have your girls make to keep their hands busy:

I'm looking at 1930s and 1940s patterns, as I think some 1930s patterns would carry forward easily.

From 1933. Made from motifs. The pamphlet says you can make it in a day if one person stitches and the other sews. ...maybe??? But this is something I could see get made for a long time because it's meant to be the sexy version of a wool undergarment to keep you from getting a chill, and the general cover-up in the 1940s means this could still easily be worn under things.

1940s. You can tell by the military-style shaping in the shoulders and waist. This is made in two parts: First you make the filet-like base, then you stitch over those spaces to get the wiggly texture.

1930s but with all signs of being late 30s with the more structured sleeves and fitted waistband. I would suspect a lot of girls had this sweater well into the 40s, as it would pass style muster pretty easily but especially in the make do and mend era.

Bed jackets were a big thing back then, and I feel like this bed jacket from the 1930s was worn forever by whoever had it because it's so fancy looking. This was done in hairpin lace, which requires a hairpin lace loom, but it's a very common style of crochet that anyone who crochets can pick up pretty easily. Big hope chest vibes on this one.

1938 but again, those 1940s military elements are starting to show. Another one that could make it through the decade easily.

1940s afternoon blouse, as it says. Very fashionable. This is a British pattern, and I would guess it's post-war since there's frippery involved, hence more yarn, but I can't swear by that.

1941. meant to be worked in at least three colors. I could see girls swapping skeins with each other to get different color combos.

This one is getting a special shout-out because it's the West Point Collar, meant to mimic the uniforms at West Point. In case you need your girls to have a good laugh (yes, I do have a Minnie story about her making this just to dress up as a cadet for Halloween on base).

Likely early to mid 1930s, and I know it'd be seen as frippery and possibly wasteful in wartime, but I also think any number of girls might fire back with "I've had this gown for five years" because it was made for them by their mother or grandmother for a graduation or prom.

But also, I am in love with it and could see a frugal gal making a sash from parachute silk or even just well-starched cotton, so I want you to see it.

Dickies (aka vestees) and collars were a huge thing in the 1940s. A big part of make do and mend was to find ways to dress up old things with a new little touch of style, and collars and dickies take a lot less material than a whole new top or outfit.

I would be remiss not to include at least one 1940s fascinator. They were the height of fashion. All over the movies. If your girl is getting ready for a date night, she either has one of these or is borrowing it.

Anyway, just some ideas from patterns I have. You can also look up 1940s crochet patterns or 1940s knit patterns on etsy and get other ideas. Most things were made either with thread or very small yarn.

[cherry-blossom-qf]

Necro, who was the kindest person in your life? And what was the hardest sacrifice you've made— literally or figuratively?

Apple Core, what was your most challenging experience as a Sensei?

Prince, O lord of fashion, which if your fits and/or forms is your absolute favorite?

Magomon, what's your opinion on Tamers in general?

Officer, my good sir, what was the toughest case you've helped or had to solve? Any solo cases?

UT, what are your favorite holiday traditions in the Underground and Surface world?

🩸: "There hasn't been a sacrifice thats been that hard for me to perform. The only thing I truly regret sacrificing is my ability to smell normal ever again. Seriously, I tried bathing multiple times and used every single perfume, cologne, all the scent products... AND I STILL CANT GET RID OF THE ROITING CORPSE SMELL!!

As for who's the kindest person I know? Well... the obvious answer would be Kirby... but there's also this snowman that has been helping me with my research, perhaps I could talk about them some other time."

-

🍏: "Most challenging things as a sensei? Well, to perfectly honest, it's the students that are, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, require a lot of patience from me. For example; I have this one student who is just, again I mean this in the nicest way possible, a stubborn wanna-be-cool-guy.

Don't get me wrong, he does have a lot of potential to be a Skylander and I can see him becoming one in the future... BUT he's just has a really bad habit of wanting to do things all by himself because he's 'so cool' with his high running speeds and cool dragon sword, only to get his ass handed to him one way or the other. I thought Blades' cockiness when he became a Skylander was bad, that student takes the cake!!!"

-

👑: "Favorite outfit? My goodness!! That's like picking between my own children!! But... if I had to pick just one.... like, you holding a knife to my back and forcing me to pick just one, then I'm gonna pick the robes I wore to my wedding. They were so sparkly and beautiful, I truly felt special on my special day~! As for forms, the Prince Form is my favorite. I like the height boost, elegance, and a sense of power in that form, hehehe~"

-

🎩: "My thoughts on Tamers? Well, I have said before that there have been tales and legends of humans being involved with digimon. I've always found it fascinating, as those legends have told of humans granting digimon power they could never get on their own. I kinda wished to see something like that happen one day... Little did I know that I was gonna get a human myself, hehe!!

Susie has been lots of fun to travel with, and the power she grants me and Marxamon has been incredible (tho I wish evolving into Crownedmon was so mentally scaring and painful)!! I could have never asked for a better human partner!! Me and Marxamon are her 'goodiest boys'!! 'Goodiest' is not a grammatically correct word, but I let it slide because she gives me hugs and pets!♡♡♡"

-

🚔: "Funnily enough, my toughest case was actually my first solo case!! The case of Artie Flopshark, a poker guru that was supposed to be dead, as he was killed by Flint Paper. According to some of the records, Artie's bank account was still active, depositing and withdrawing money regularly as if he was alive. And there had been reports of Artie being near abandoned graveyards across the country. Flint Paper couldn't track him down for the life of him, so he assumed it had been some kind of 'witchcraft' that made this guy untraceable. So Flint gave the case to me since I'm a mage and stuff (witchcraft and my magic are obviously two different things, but I let it slide). Sam and Max had a lot of faith that I could handle this on my own, so I took on the challenge just to make them proud. The weeks of trying to find this guy felt like the longest weeks of my life! But I was able to find him.

Long Story Short; It turned out Artie Flopshark was revived as a zombie like monster by a bunch of teenage wizards that were messing around with dark arts (kinda sounds familiar). When the wizards successfully revived him, they freaked out and left him behind. Artie was able to get a hold on that dark arts book that they coincidently dropped and used it to get around the county's graveyards. He was hosting nightly poker nights to get his funds back for his new undead life, inviting all sorts of creeps and ghouls to play games of Texas Hold'em. In fear of being killed again by Flint, Artie used magic to keep himself untrackable from any living being on earth. Which I was able to work around the effects because I'm not from earth, hehe~!!

I felt kinda bad for him since even mentioning Flint Paper made him scream in panic, so did Artie a favor and helped him get a restraining order on Flint. I got my paycheck and a celebration surprise from Sam and Max that they planned for me for completing my first solo case, a VIP trip to The Inventory for drinks, dinner, and poker."

-

💙: "Well damn, ol' gunner boy spoke in whole paragraphs! Ok, favorite holiday.... I gotta give it to Halloween, dude. Monsters seem to enjoy Halloween a lot, and I can see why, as my best memories here are sometimes related to Halloween. Like on our first trick-or-treating, Frisk dressed up as a witch and made me their little 'black cat' by dressing me in a black cat onesie. I was carried around in their backpack as we went around the neighborhood. And when I got my monster form perfected, me and Frisk did even cooler matching costumes! Mario and Luigi, Dipper and Mabel, Steven and Amethyst, Freddy and Bonnie, heck we even Sans and Papyrus a few times! (which the bros really liked)

Even though I moved out of Toriel's house after I got married, Frisk and I still go trick-or-treating together every Halloween with our matching costumes. And Frisk hasn't grown out of trick-or-treating just yet, so we'll be continuing this little tradition of ours for a few more years! And I'll be enjoying every moment."

-

🦋: "Man I sure do love being involved!" -he said to no one.

(Congratulations Blaze, you changed my QnA formatting just for this ask! Eff you and have a nice day!)

[tc-doherty]

Author Questionnaire Tag Game

Tagged by @the-letterbox-archives thanks ^__^

About Me

When did you start writing?

I was writing by kindergarten at least, so…1996 or thereabouts. I do still have some writing from this time. I actually decided to be an author when I was 8 so that would be 1999. :)

Are there genres/themes you enjoy reading different to the ones you write?

I mean probably, I love to read and I read widely. Generally though, if I like something I will try to write it as well even if I'm not good at it. The biggest one I can think of would probably be cozy mystery novels, but I am still planning to try and write some of those.

Is there an author you want to emulate, or one to whom you're often compared?

I read a lot of Mercedes Lackey growing up, and I think that people who are familiar with her work might be able to tell from the way that I approach world building and especially magic. It's not really intentional though, it's just because I read so much of her work at a formative age. I'm not really trying to emulate anyone, I'm just being myself.

Of course I also love fairy tales, folktales, and legends so my work is very much inspired by that kind of storytelling. You'll see fairy tale and folktale elements everywhere.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space?

I have a lap desk so that I can make it easier on my arms when I'm writing by hand. I will use that either at my office chair (the height and incline of my desk is not right for me) or while sitting on the couch. Otherwise, because I use dictation, I'm always writing at my desk.

What's your most effective way to muster up some muse?

I just sit down and write. Writing is its own reward to me, so I'm always motivated to do it. I've never had a problem with that kind of thing.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

I shouldn't think so. I never write about the real world, and I never intentionally include references to any real places or people I know.

Are there any recurring themes of your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

My writing is all themes really. There is a running narrative of "home" being the people that you're with, and so finding the "place" you belong by finding the people that you belong with. Also themes of coming to terms with yourself, and moving forward.

There are plenty of themes, aesthetics, and other little Easter eggs that show up in a lot of my work. For instance, I love to write about forests, I love to write about the ocean. I often include gryphons in my work because they're cool! I really like sun/moon imagery, I really like elemental imagery…lots of little things.

My Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favourite character?

I'm legally required to only have one answer, my Main Babe(tm) Ithea! Ithea's got everything. She's elegant, glamorous, and intelligent, she is also very manipulative and loves the power of violence. Her favorite hobby is treason. She uses sex as a weapon. She also uses weapons as weapons. She'll also kill you with her bare hands if you give her the opportunity. She's always smiling. How can you tell if Ithea is lying? Well, is her mouth moving? She loves her partner's kids more than anything in the world, she can, will, and has killed for them. The level of her arrogance is entirely unparalleled. Her goals are completely inscrutable. She lives a dramatic life and dies at 36. What's not to love?

Which of your characters do you think you'd be friends with in real life?

I honestly think I would have difficulty getting along with a lot of my characters. But I could probably hang out with Dante, Gheist, Temitope, and Kadife. I would love to be able to say I could get along with Nelli, and maybe that would be true. She can be a little rigid for my taste though.

Which of your characters would you dislike most if you met them?

Most of them. I love writing about people who cause problems on purpose, and I love writing about people who are very arrogant and manipulative. But in real life I don't like that kind of personality at all. But I also write about a lot of characters that I would personally consider too pathetic and would not be able to deal with.

I'm the kind of person who takes things in stride and continues forward no matter what. I'm extremely even-tempered. People who are too energetic are kind of exhausting for me, and people who are willing to give up annoy me for a different reason. But I'm not really the kind of person that would make a very interesting character, now am I? Hahaha…

Tell me more about the process of coming up with your characters.

I usually start with the sort of relationship that I want to explore, and then I make up what sort of characters need to exist in order for that relationship to logically happen. When it comes to their development I might start thinking with some kind of scene that is the peak idea of…well, the core of their relationship, maybe. From there I can go backwards and forwards to figure out who they were to get there, and what's going to happen because they know each other. But sometimes I just have a very vague idea and I start writing with nothing else. In that case I end up making a lot of characters just to fit the story, because they need to be there.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

I love writing about women who are ambitious and arrogant and manipulative. I love writing about men who are so soft and sweet. Secondarily, I love to write about women who are practical and down to earth, and I love to write about men who are extremely prickly and emotionally wary. I love writing characters (of either gender) who are way overly dramatic or purposefully annoying.

Also. I mean. Most of them are gay.

How do you picture your characters?

Vaguely. I've talked about it before, I have almost complete aphantasia so picturing things is not really my strong suit. I generally will have a collection of descriptors and traits, and that's why I draw them myself or hire artists to work with. I only picture things in snapshots and even then only with a great deal of effort. I have a lot better idea of how my characters dress than what they look like. I talk about clothing a lot.

My Writing

What's your reason for writing?

I simply love it. There's no other reason.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

I love getting key smashes, and things that are in all caps, and other representatives of people YELLING. But I screenshot every comment that I get and I keep them on my computer because I love them all ^__^

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work?

I don't need to know what they think about me LMAO I write stories that I love, and when other people love them too I'm flattered. But that's the extent of my relationship with most people, if they aren't actually my friends. And people who are my friends will think about me in much different contexts than just as an author, one would hope. If I have to say something though, I do hope that the people reading my work can tell that I was having a good time when I wrote it.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I love writing dialogue, and people often like the dialogue that I write! I know people also often like my characters, and as a character driven author, that is very pleasing to me. I struggle with description because I'm not good at visualizing so it's not very important to me. On a line by line basis I don't think that my writing is particularly beautiful. I'm just not that kind of author. It's difficult to get things out of my writing if you only see one line. But I write about character growth and dialogue, and if you look at my writing in chunks it's exactly what I want it to be.

What have you been frequently told by others is your greatest strength as a writer?

My dialogue and my characters. But one time someone told me that my writing reminded them of The Princess Bride, and I've carried that with me to this day.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I love it! I constantly crack myself up. I know in the grand scheme of things I'm not a particularly funny person, but I think my writing is hilarious. After all, I'm writing for an audience of one (1) person, so if I'm not enjoying it, what's the point?

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

The only thing that will stop me is the cold, hard embrace of the earth. Honestly, even if I knew for a fact that not one of the eight billion people currently on the earth would ever read a single word I had written, I would still do it. I'm not here for them.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? if it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

I write purely for myself.

Tagging @did-i-do-this-write @thegoddesswater @mrmissmrsrandom @outpost51 @bloodlessheirbyjacques

@magefaery @italiangothicwriteblr @tryingtimi

Honestly, I wouldn't mind seeing everyone do it hehe

[moonlightdancer26]

who do you think would win a fistfight between:

Pomfresh & Severus

Ron & Harry & Hermione

Draco & Pansy

Moody & Greyback

Peter & Luna

Umbridge & Trelawney

Bellatrix & Sirius

Petunia & Narcissa

Slughorn & Flitwick

(hope you have fun with this!)

LMFAOO ILY ANON

Pomfresh & Severus

Idk who Pomfresh is but I’m assuming you mean Pomfrey, if so, Severus would woop her ancient ass.

Ron & Harry & Hermione

(I’m assuming you mean individually)

Harry would probably beat Hermione (saying probably because book!Mione was a menace 💀)

Ron would sweep Hermione off her feet (not like he did in canon tho) and throw her tiny body off the Astronomy tower.

Ron and Harry is a slightly tougher one, but I’m still certain Ron will win. He’s taller and more buff while Harry was generally described as scrawny, and he’s proven to have a lot of physical strength throughout the series. (Mans gave Malfoy a black eye when he was 11)

Draco & Pansy

Draco was definitely taller and stronger, since he, like Harry and Ron, was also a Quidditch player, which requires some strength and a lot of agility. So he’d deffo beat her.

Moody & Greyback

No contest whatsoever 💀💀 Moody was hella old, had an artificial leg, and very.. freakishly built. He was basically just an old man without his wand. However, Greyback, even in his “human” form, looked like a werewolf and had the same claws, teeth, and almost the same amount of strength. He doesn’t even need to use magic to tackle anyone, let alone an old man.

Peter & Luna

ooou, this is a good one. I’d say Peter, he was a rather small man and wasn’t in good shape (bro was a rat for over a decade, I’m surprised he even remembered how to walk), but I think he’d be able to overpower her in a physical fight. He has a metal arm too. She’d be much quicker than him, but I think his throws would be harder. He’d just sit on her tbh.

Umbridge & Trelawney

Omg 😭 this fight would be legendary, that’s for sure. But I think Trelawney would win, she’s probably taller and she’s in much better shape, so I’m assuming she’d win.

Bellatrix & Sirius

That would be such a hot fight 😩 tbh I genuinely don’t know who’d win, but if I had to choose I’d say Sirius.

My reasons are:

He was much more emotional and filled with rage, this could either be very useful or very disadvantageous in a physical fight. If your opponent is calm and collected, there’s a better chance they can make faster and more calculated moves while remaining stealthy. But if your opponent likes to taunt you and is easily distracted, then your anger and recklessness might prove to be useful, as it might catch them off-guard. That’s one of the reasons Molly managed to kill her in the first place, it was a wand-fight, yes, but Bellatrix still proved herself to be too easily-distracted. She likes to laugh and jeer at her opponents, which is a huge disadvantage in fights, most especially physical ones.

Bellatrix probably didn’t even know how to probably fist-fight someone, especially since it was a “filthy Muggle thing.” Wizards, even the non-prejudiced ones, mostly stuck with wand fights, so it would be ridiculous for a witch who thinks anyone who isn’t a pureblood is below her would know about how Muggles fight. She would most likely brush it off as an uncivilised Muggle practice. Sirius, on the other hand, saw learning about Muggle things as a method to rebel against his parents. And considering he and James’s ways of taunting Snape in their schooldays included a shit ton of magical violence (but violence nonetheless), I think it’s safe to say Sirius wasn’t unfamiliar with physical fights.

So I think Sirius would win. I considered this a close one because 1. not much was said about their physical abilities, and their overall abilities, for that matter (apart from their magical talent ofc) 2. they were both approximately the same height 3. they were both in Azkaban for 12 years [if only one of them went to Azkaban and the other lived an extra 12 years of their life being healthy and well-fed then the latter would have a huge advantage].

Petunia & Narcissa

Narcissa a baddie, she’d def win. /j

Ok but seriously, I don’t really know. But I think Petunia might actually win. Narcissa’s taller (and yummier) but, like her sister, she likely didn’t know much about physical fights. Because she was from a pureblood family and believed in pureblood supremacy, so that already gives Tuney an advantage. And even then, we see that Tuney isn’t opposed to physical violence, she legit tried to hit Harry’s head with a frying pan once, so who knows what other messed up shit she’s done to him throughout those 10 years. So, I’d say Tuney might win, but they likely have approximately the same amount of physical strength, which is what makes this fight a rather close one.

Slughorn & Flitwick

If they were to ever get into a fight it would definitely look like this:

that’s all I can say