#and bonus fun fact she chose her first name from a book she found about the odyssey

[persephoneggsy]

drew out my canon shepard, Circe, and her journey from Mass Effect 1, 2, and 3.

ME1: Basically the default femshep model, bc i love her design. She has a tattoo of cosmos along her neck. There’s no deeper meaning to it; she just thinks they’re pretty, and everyone else in her gang had a tattoo, so...

ME2: After being resurrected, Circe found that her hair had grown out, and she just never found the time to chop it off. Of course, as a renegade, her scars got worse. And with her re-grown body, her tattoo was gone.

ME3: Bored out of her mind in Alliance confinement, she finally cut off her hair with a pair of scissors. She also gets a new tattoo, and this one does have meaning: it’s reminiscent of her lover, Thane’s, markings.

[janiedean]

... the tyrion/sansa hairdresser/mortician au no one was expecting but happened

well @meri-vaahtoaa I TOLD YOU IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN TODAY AND IT HAPPENED, have a for now untitled tyrion/sansa mortician/hairdresser au inspired by this post with bonus guest star jeyne p. u___u don't look for angst, also extremely background mentioned jb plus jaime & bronn being themselves in the backstory, have fun u__u

This fucking teaches me to be drunk around both my brother and Bronn, Tyrion thinks for the umpteenth time as he keeps on walking - he needs a damned salon and he needs it now but he also had to get out of the neighborhood because like hell he’s going to risk running into anyone who knows his father. That’s the… least thing he needs, honestly, as if his life choices aren’t already something he has to fight for every other moment and he can’t fucking wait to be out of the house, which should be soon -

If he doesn’t get thrown out of his internship because of his horrible drunk choices.

Why did they have drinks together, why did they have drunk bets, why did he bet with Jaime that he would dye his hair bright blue if he stopped beating around the bush and confessed to the bartender that he’s been into her since they started coming to that specific place for drinks because he chickened out of it for months, except -

Except Jaime went and did it and it turned out that she actually had been looking back and Tyrion hadn’t been wrong in that assessment, but then he had to do it and he actually went and used a do it yourself dye and -

Well.

He honestly can’t go and start his apprenticeship with blue hair that’s also… well, not even professionally dyed, and considering the arguments that it created the least thing he needs is going somewhere he’d be recognized.

So, he’s plenty out of the neighborhood, but he hasn’t found someplace that felt… well, not extra fancy. The second-least thing he needs is extra fancy shops where people would send looks his way that he could absolutely do without.

Also, it’s fucking hot. Why did he do that in the middle of summer again? And why couldn’t he have bet something more reasonable - right, it was Bronn’s idea and they were drunk. Fuck.

He walks a bit more, wondering if maybe he should sit down and check on Google Maps if he’s ended up in the only area of the city that doesn’t have any, and then he sees one on the other side of the road - fine, he stopped because he wondered who names a hair salon Beauty and the Beast, but it costs nothing to have a look from the outside, right?

He crosses the street and walks up to the door.

First thing, the pricing list outside it looks… well, it’s not cheap, but it’s certainly not the ridiculous fares they ask where his sister goes to have her hair done, which is exceedingly good since he doesn’t want to spend a salary’s worth of an average office employee to get that blue crap out of his hair. He looks through the glass door - there is just one woman inside getting her hair done, which is also good because the least people around the shorter the wait, it certainly does look clean and while the pastel aesthetic is maybe a bit too much for his tastes - everything is a pastel shade, from the light yellow on the floor to the pale pink and violet of the chairs and the powder blue of the walls… well, beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to it, and the woman on the chair is chatting amicably with the chestnut-haired girl doing her hair and doesn’t look like she hates being there or like she chose the wrong shop.

Also, it’s two PM and he knows this is going to take long. He can hardly afford to fuck around much longer.

He pushes the door open and walks into the shop.

“Welcome!” The chestnut-haired girl says, giving him a nice smile. “Sorry if I don’t come over, but if you sit for a minute my colleague will be back from her coffee break shortly.”

“Sure,” he says, “no hurry,” and he goes sitting on one of the pale violet chairs on the side - they’re comfortable, at least, and he considers taking out the book he brought with to pass the time, but then -

“Hello and welcome! Can I get you a glass of water” Someone else chirps from his side, and right, he did hear the door open -

Oh.

“Hi,” he blurts, staring into a pair of lovely blue eyes belonging to supposedly the other girl working here - she has long auburn hair styled in a french braid and is wearing a blue summer dress that pairs with her eyes perfectly and she’s smiling down at him as if she’s not horrified by his horrid dye-job, or by his presence in the first place, which is his general experience in this kind of shops, so - that’s good, at least. “And uh, thanks,” he says, realizing he is thirsty.

“Be right back! Sorry, I was taking my break but we have no appointments today, so I’ll be on your case very soon.”

She goes to the corner of the room and grabs a glass of water from a dispenser, then brings it to him - shit, he needed it.

“So, what can I do for you?”

“Er,” he says, “I dyed that hair for a bet but I was called for an internship yesterday, and I start on Monday, so… I need a removal. If it’s possible.”

The girl leans closer, taking a good look at his hair.

“Hm,” she says, “it might take a while, but I think it’s possible. It’s not a very good dye job, if I can say so.”

He snorts. “Oh, you can. Please, I did it and I have regretted it every moment since.”

“Well,” she nods, “you’re lucky that most likely no one will show up for anything complicated today then. Jeyne, can you handle other customers in case?”

“Sure,” the chestnut-haired girl replies. “As if I don’t know you’ll have the time of your life.”

She rolls her eyes, then goes to a wardrobe in the corner and finds him a towel, tucks it around his neck and lowers a chair near the small sinks at the bottom of the shop so he can sit on it - he does, feeling extremely thankful that it’s extremely comfortable leather, and he can hear her tutting about bad dyes under her breath as she washes his hair once, twice, thrice, and her fingers feel really good on his scalp but he’s not going to think about that now.

“Just for the record,” she asks as she rinses it, “do you just want the dye to go away or do you want a cut, too?”

“Hell,” he says, “I need to look presentable. I suppose the cut can’t hurt.”

“Will do,” she chirps again, “and by the way, never use that kind of dye again. Not with hair this nice.”

Tyrion would have toppled off the chair if his head wasn’t thrown too far back for it to happen.

“I have nice hair now?”

“You can feel it,” she replies, “under all this… this,” she says, shaking her head.

“I know,” he says, “bad choices.”

“Extremely,” she goes on, rinsing. “But don’t you worry. I’ll have it fixed.”

“Really,” chestnut-haired girl says, “Sansa is a pro with that kind of thing. You’re in good hands.”

Oh. So her name is Sansa. It’s pretty, he thinks.

“Well,” he says, “I can’t wait to see how you manage it. I’m Tyrion, by the way. Figures you should know if I know yours?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she goes on, and gives his hair a last rinse. “Right, can you move forward?” He does and she dries his hair with the towel, then goes to find a mantel that somehow he doesn’t drown in. “Please,” she says, “on whichever free chair you prefer.”

He picks an empty one two spots away from Jeyne and the other woman and lowers it so he can sit down, and then Sansa raises it up again until his still sadly blue head is at the right height.

“Hm,” she says, grabbing a lock and feeling it between her fingers, “from what I see here you’re a natural blonde?”

“Sort of,” he shrugs. He is - his hair isn’t as golden as his siblings’, but it definitely is on that shade. Not that he ever bothered to look into it. “Wait,” he says, fishing into his pocket, and then he grabs his phone and shows her a picture Bronn took of him and Jaime during Tyrion’s latest birthday party which is about the only one of his he’s kept there where you can see his actual color very well. She takes it, squints, zooms on his head, then nods and hands him back the phone.

“Well,” she says, “we’re going to have to use a color remover to take out the blue pigment, then apply some more pigment to allow for the proteins in the hair to adhere to it. Then… yeah, possibly mix a few different types of toners to reach the goal of your natural hair color, and it’s going to take a while, but we should get there. Nothing that terrible.”

“Er,” he blurts, “how much chemistry did you have to study to get there?”

She smiles a bit wider.

“Yeah, I know, but some people don’t like if we talk like that. It makes it sound complicated, I’m told.”

“Not at all,” he says, waiting as Jeyne, who has finished the other woman’s hair, goes to the back room to presumably get Sansa at least the color remover, “not like it’s not… sort of my thing, too,” he says, and then he bites his own tongue - why did he ever do that, now she’s going to decide he’s a creep or something -

“Really,” she says as Jeyne comes back and hands her the remover, “do lean your head back. And what it is that you do?”

He takes a deep breath and tells her.

—

“Oh, so you’re a mortician?” Sansa says happily as she keeps on applying the remover to his hair, her fingers pressing along his scalp as she rubs it in. To her credit, she doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s creepy.

“Well, apprentice,” he shrugs, “but yeah, working on it. And starting an internship soon. Where I can’t… look like this. But yes. Just going through my degree - I had a final a couple days ago. Fuck, it was so embarrassing.”

“Did they judge your hair?”

“Called it apocalyptic, but I aced it.”

“Nice. What was it about?”

“Embalming, mostly,” he sighs. “All the chemistry about formadelhyde I had to learn.”

“Fun fact,” Sansa grins, “do you know they use it in clothing?”

… He somehow had not known that.

“What? Really? They forgot to cover that part.”

“Well,” Sansa says, “I used to crash fashion school lessons, my brother’s boyfriend snuck me in. I learned a lot. I think it’s because of the preserving qualities, though I’m sure it wasn’t… all of it.”

“I mean,” Tyrion blurts, “it’s a preservative but it’s also a disinfectant. Destroys bacteria and their food supply, and it’s a dehydrator, there’s a reason why we use it that much.”

“Hm,” Sansa nods, starting to put aluminium stripes on his hair - fuck, he looks ridiculous like this, “one wonders why you don’t just use alcohol then? Because I thought it was kind of carcinogen.”

Well, she did listen to those lessons for sure.

“It’s cheaper,” Tyrion sighs, “a lot cheaper. It cuts costs. Guess I’ll resign myself to the cancer risk.”

She snorts. “Please,” she says, keeping on placing those stripes carefully, “I’m pretty sure that’s exaggerating a bit. There, they should rest for half an hour. I have to place a few calls now but if you want to read while I’m at it feel free to, just don’t move your head around too much.”

“Roger that,” Tyrion nods, and settles back in the chair.

He has a feeling it’s going to be long, but at least she’s very good company. Jeyne looks about to say something but then another woman comes in the shop and she goes to greet her, and Tyrion goes back to his Chinese sci-fi book that he’s really enjoying and hopes that at the end of it he doesn’t have to shave his head because that dye was that bad.

—

Half an hour later, after washing away the remover, Sansa has moved on to applying the first round of pigment to his hair - the blue did go out, but it still looks…. well. Bad. He can see it just looking at it in the mirror.

“So, she says, “is your internship at a funeral home?”

“Yes,” he replies, “it’s during the last six months of the degree, then you write your thesis and you get your license, and honestly, it’s a nice funeral home. I hope they hire me for good. Anyway, it makes sense. We need to have… experiences with, uh, cases, you know, uh -“

“You can say bodies,” Sansa grins brightly, “it’s fine. I know what you do in funeral homes.”

“Oh, thank God,” he blurts. “I’m sorry, uh, people tend to get queasy when I mention them. The bodies, I mean.”

“That sounds nonsensical,” Sansa shrugs, “what do people think happens when they die? Anyway, you can absolutely say that. Hm, here we go, I think these can stay. Another… yeah. Half-hour, forty-five minutes? Get yourself comfortable. I’ll go mix those toners meanwhile.”

Oh. Right. The toners. Fuck, he can’t wait for this entire dye business to be over. Honestly, he hasn’t done that when he was fifteen, he should have stuck with it.

He grabs his book back and starts reading it again, except that he finds himself wishing he could chat with Sansa some more and he needs to get that thought out of his head right now, no reason to set himself up for failure.

He reads on.

—

Later, she’s washed his hair again and she’s still mixing the toners.

“Yeah,” she says, “I think this need a bit more work, but I’m curious. Is there anything you don’t like about your school? Because you sounded really excited before.”

Did I, Tyrion thinks, but then again… he almost never talks about it to anyone except Jaime or Bronn because everyone else thinks it’s morbid, and somehow this girl who owns a wholly pastel shop actually seems to enjoy discussing the topic, so why the hell not?

“I mean,” he says, “I think we should do autopsies.”

“Oh, you don’t? I’d have expected it.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, “me too, and I think we should for, you know, completion and so on, but we don’t, so I guess I’ll read up on it.”

“But,” she says, “hypothetically,” and she’s kind of smiling slyly, what, “let’s say that someone wakes up while embalming them. What do you do then?”

“I mean,” Tyrion replies, slowly, “I think there’s a pretty huge difference between a living body and a dead one?”

“Sansa, please,” Jeyne says as she combs through the hair of the other woman, who looks… a tiny bit disturbed, but neither Jeyne nor Sansa are, so… who cares. right?, “never mind that you need a bit more toner, but I think there’s a thing named rigor mortis that’d make it pretty fucking obvious.”

“That,” Tyrion replies, “also if one gets stuck in a fridge for a few days I think you’d be dead anyway. Not to be, you know, morbid.”

Sansa mixes a bit more toner and smiles wider. Right. She was so fucking with him. “I mean, you did pump them full of carcinogen just before, right?”

“Right,” he laughs as she tells him to lean back and starts applying the toner to his poor roots, “we did, technically.”

“Just stay still,” she goes on, “it’ll be another hour, I think. Then I can cut.”

Well, he decides, at least this entire process is being not overtly miserable.

He leans back and lets her apply the toner and then cover it with the aluminium stripes all over again.

—

“So,” she says later while Jeyne is going through the third client of the day and he’s sitting on the chair again after his hair was thoroughly rinsed and washed for the umpteenth time — he lost count, honestly, but now it does look like his usual shade, sort of, he thinks, “can I ask what was this infamous bet about? Also, I can see your hair is naturally wavy — should I just trim the edges? Because I can see you cut it yourself and it’s not bad but you kind of hacked at them.”

“Er, yes,” he says, “sounds good. Wait, naturally wavy?”

“It is,” she says, “I can recognize it.”

“I, uh,” he coughs, “I don’t think I ever had it long enough to notice?”

“It’s the exact same as your brother’s,” she shrugs, “just a bit darker, but again, this should tide you over for a while. I mean, by the time it wears off whatever travesty you did to your hair in the first place should be fixed and it’ll be as before and no one will notice.”

“Then - I guess you can trim only and I’ll see,” he says, his throat suddenly feeling dry. No one ever compared him to Jaime in that sense without making it… well. About how he’s not the person with the good looks in the family, so this entire thing is just - weird. “Anyway, uh, you can ask about the bet. I mean, it’s just embarrassing.”

“I’m listening,” she says, cutting the edges of his hair slowly, and surely she puts a lot more thought it in than he does while cutting it, but then again… it’s her job and he learned because he didn’t want his father’s barber to go near his head.

“Er, so,” he clears his throat again, trying to figure out how to tell her the sanitized version of it while sparing her from all the family ugliness, “I was out drinking with the brother and the best friend at the same bar we’ve been going to for months because they have good drinks and the brother absolutely had a crush on the bartender, except that he came from a, uh, toxic relationship, let’s put it like that, and I thought he wasn’t going to fess up ever, so - we were drunk and it came out and I said of course I’d dye my hair that horrid color if he fessed up to her and like, I thought he never would but he actually went and did it and — yeah. I mean, glad for him that it went well but not my greatest moment.”

“Aw,” Sansa replies, keeping on trimming, “I like a nice love story. I imagine he doesn’t share our interest in formadelhyde.”

Why does his heart beat a tiny bit faster when she says our interest?

“No,” Tyrion shakes his head, “he’s more into nerding over Middle Ages weapons, but at least he didn’t tell me Six Feet Under was boring, so.”

“I loved that show,” she replies, “who’d say it’s boring?”

“It’s my favorite,” he shrugs a bit as she puts away the scissors. “And a lot of people, but it seems like you have good taste.”

She nods as she grabs some lotion that she supposedly has to pass into his hair before drying it. “And what about you?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, he had a nice love story going into port, so what about you?”

“Er,” he hopes he’s not blushing, fuck, he’s usually not — he doesn’t fluster, fucking hell, “I — really am not looking. My family kind of… fucked up the only serious relationship I had going for me and most people get put off at the whole I want to be a mortician thing, so.”

“What kind of family fucks up relationships for other people?”

“The kind we come from,” he sighs, “but at least he’s out of that circus and I’ll be the moment I graduate.”

“Nice,” Sansa nods, “now just hold on a moment and I’m drying it.”

He nods — she grabs an hair dryer and starts blowing it and yes, he can see she got the exact shade right now that it’s not wet anymore, and — well, of course it’s her job to make it look good but the more she proceeds the nicer it looks, and now he can vaguely see what she meant when she talked about natural curls, and also… it feels fluffier? Lighter? He has no fucking clue, but the moment she’s finished — well.

“Fuck,” he admits, “I don’t think my hair ever looked this nice in my entire life.”

She grins. “I know how to do my job. Another moment.” She sprays some more lotion on her hands and runs it through his hair again. “This was just for a bit of nutriment, but there you are. You know, if you treat it a bit more nicely you might not need it me to make it look good.”

“Yeah, well, and what if I’d like to come back here instead?” He blurts, not knowing what the fuck he’s aiming for, but then she grins back a bit wider.

“I always like making new clients,” she replies, “especially when they’re cute and they don’t only want to talk about the gossip in magazines. That gets boring after a while.”

Wait, did she call him cute?

“Tell you what,” she keeps on as she takes the mantel off him and waits for him to get off the chair and follow her to the counter, “let’s say I don’t give all new clients a ten percent discount but I do give it to the ones I like.”

What the fuck —

“So, here you go.”

She hands him a receipt… with a fifteen per cent discount. “But you have to promise me you won’t use that crap dye anymore. That’s probably more cancer-inducing than formaldehyde could ever be.”

He has to laugh at that.

“Fair,” he says, “I won’t. Maybe I’ll come back before my last final. It’s two weeks from now,” he says, slowly, “I might want to look good for it. As much as it goes, anyway.”

“Oh, I’ll make you look incredible, don’t you worry.” She takes his card, swipes it, hands him the POS. He’s sure he doesn’t let it drop just out of sheer force of will. The payment goes through, she gives him his receipt and he pockets it, his hand still sweating —

“I’ll see you to the door,” she goes on, and she follows him out.

“So, Tyrion,” she grins again, “see you in two weeks?”

“Oh,” he replies, “absolutely.”

“And let me know how the internship thing works out. I like to know what’s up with the clients I like,” she winks, and then she leans down and kisses his cheek before going back into the shop.

Tyrion just stands there dumbfounded and only takes a few steps from the shop, and he didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he hears Jeyne the moment he starts walking away and —

“Sansa, I know you said you’d be forward after that asshole Harry, but I never saw you being that obvious. You really liked our mortician or what?”

“So what?” Sansa replies, and Tyrion thinks he’ll faint. “No point in playing hard to get and all. When he comes back I’m absolutely asking him out for coffee or something. I did like him.”

“Good for you,” Jeyne replies, “he seems nice and you deserve a nice guy. Even if that dye was a really crap choice on his part.”

“Oh, if I have a say in it no bad dye is ever coming near that hair. It was so nice,” she replies, and at that point he leaves because he really shouldn’t be doing this and he will faint, but —

But he smiles to himself all the way home.

He thinks he’s never looked forward to a final that much, and if she does really ask him out for coffee, no way he’s being an idiot and saying no.

And if he’ll brush up on cool embalming facts before then, well, you can’t blame him, right?

End.

[wyrmy-fics]

Okay, Worm. Wormy. What race and class would the Mysmes characters play as in WoW? Feel free to give any other headcanons too. 🤲

hi hello I’m currently working on other requests at the moment but this one seemed fun to do while I take a break from homework!

Anyone who knows me is well aware of the fact I’m a big fan of anything WoW related and have been for years, so let’s go 👀

Reblogs are highly appreciated. :)

RFA on WoW

Includes: All RFA Members + Saeran and Rika

Warnings -> N/A

Type: Headcanons.

Zen:

Blood Elf - Paladin.

It was the only race that had options to make it look like him.

Genuinely thought they looked really handsome/pretty while looking through the characterization screen.

He also felt like it would have been fun to try something on the Horde; a little different from the rest of the RFA.

Zen almost chose a warrior for the class but liked the idea of having the ability to heal as a Paladin.

Profession - Jewelcrafting.

A very rare profession in the game by now, but Zen assumed it was fitting for his character.

Prioritizes armor looks over actual stats.

“Where did all of your gold go—?”

“... Transmog...”

Yoosung:

Troll - Hunter.

Wanted to join the Horde along with Zen and guide him through it.

Couldn’t decide on a race at first but enjoyed reading up on the Troll story and statistics.

Gets way too attached to his pets and takes time naming every single one of them.

So many pets with the stablemaster. So many.

Accidentally killed a mob while trying to tame it; cried for about an hour. (Zen had to cheer him up until it respawned.)

Focuses on PVP way more than storyline.

Profession - cooking!

His bags are constantly full of food and potions.

Also just thought the campfire option was really nice. :)

Jaehee:

Night Elf - Monk.

Mr. Han wanted to be a Night Elf, so she was “kindly demanded” to join him.

She ended up hooked reading the description for monks and gets excited when a new ability pops up.

It reminds her of Judo a bit, even though they’re very different, but she compliments the animation on their stance.

Isn’t one for games most of the time, but starts reading up on the Night Elf storyline while on break.

A little down about the fact she’s on the opposite faction as Zen. (“Don’t you think he would look great in a show about these characters?”)

Profession - Inscription.

Also a very rare profession, but puts unwanted items and recipes to use this way.

It’s also a decently fast profession to complete during the day, so one she can enjoy after work.

It also goes well with Jumins profession.

Jumin:

Night Elf - Mage.

His first option was a Human, actually.

But Zen teased him about it being a very basic choice. (So, why not go with the second basic option?)

It’s canon that Jumin is interested in magic and witchcraft, so a Mage was the next best thing.

Specifically enjoys the talent of Arcane mage, but regularly switches to other elements. (Named the Elemental pet “Elizabeth the 4th.”)

Tries to get in contact with the developers to sell cat related products with in-game references.

Profession - Enchanting.

Doesn’t actually know how to use the profession and gets Assistant Kang to do most of the work.

She also has to trade a lot of materials if he asks. (Please just... use the auction house.)

Tries to somehow use enchanting in real life. Upset it doesn’t work.

Seven:

Gnome - Warlock.

Ah, yes. The most hated race in the game. That’s why he chose it.

Ends up attached to the little guy and gives him the wildest characterization options.

And, of course, the classic yellow engineering goggles were a necessity.

Ends up finding a rotation with Warlocks easier than anything else and finds out how to cast his spells all at once.

Has been suspended multiple times for that, though.

Profession - Engineering.

Not too much of a surprise but when Seven found out he can make stuff in-game, he was all over it.

Ends up making certain inventions in real life for his personal enjoyment. (And Vanderwoods demise.)

May or may not catch up with Yoosung in PVP to completely annihilate him. Bonus points if it’s in open world too.

Jihyun:

Human - Warrior.

Swears he would try another race next time but wanted his first to be a Human.

Also tries to make it look like himself somehow.

Didn’t realize he could have been any other class than a Warrior. It was the default and looked interesting.

Can’t tank very well but overall likes the idea of damage control. Even if it’s just... Pressing buttons.

Explores more than actually questing since the areas are really nice to just sit and enjoy sometimes.

Has taken a few screenshots for artistic references before.

Profession - Archaeology.

Most people with the profession just do it for XP or reputation points,

But this man will sit down and read every. Single. Site. It’s nice to hear him get excited and interested in his findings, however. (Same, Jihyun.)

Saeran:

Undead - Rogue.

Ray thought they looked a little creepy at first, but Saeran overall empathized with their story.

They’re the misunderstood outcasts of the game - why wouldn’t he play them?

The rogue was an interesting choice. The idea of stealthing around and using quick attacks was intriguing.

Doesn’t play too often but somehow levels faster than the rest of the group.

Ray will focus more on exploring, Suit enjoys PVP, and Saeran will actually pay attention to the plot.

Ironically dislikes Sylvanas.

Profession - Herbalism.

At first didn’t like the idea of actually picking the flowers in game before realizing that’s how you learn about them.

Makes a little section in his book specifically for these fictional flowers and their meanings, plus what they’re used for in-game.

Rika:

Draenei - Priest.

Not only envied their devotion but also their outlook on helping others.

Would eventually switch over to Lightforged Draenei once they’re unlocked, but gets attached to her original character.

I’m trying really hard not to make a “Light” joke or connect anything to the Naaru....

Is the teams healer and does an amazing job at it. Not too fond of actual combat.

Spends a lot of time in the Priest campaign hall doing dailies and class quests.

Profession - Alchemy.

The art of crushing an item down into dust in order to turn it into something else more useful for her character.

Doesn’t use the profession all too much unless absolutely needed, though.

Overall a fun player to work with and everyone’s go-to healer.

And that’s it! I hope you enjoy reading. :)

[lenskij]

The StoryGraph's Translation Challenge 2021 - a reflection

Today I just finished this 10 prompt reading challenge! I had so much fun doing it, especially since I’ve for years wanted to expand my reading beyond the same old and familiar I’ve been reading until now, but I didn’t come around to actually do it until I came across The StoryGraph's Translation Challenge 2021.

The rules are: pick a book for each prompt that has been translated from a language that isn’t English. For myself, I added another rule - it can’t be translated from any language I speak, either. I also wanted to find an individual book for each prompt - if there was a book that would fit in two prompts, I counted it for only one of them and chose another for the other.

I wanted to share my little translation journey with everyone here, hence this post. The prompts, what book I chose for each, and my thoughts on them are below the cut!

Also: I’m always on the lookout for non-English books! Bonus points if they’re from outside of Europe ^w^ Hit me up with your recommendations!

1. A translated fantasy or sci-fi novel

Stanisław Lem: Солярис (Solaris) Translated from Polish to Russian by Д. Брускин

This book has been living on my sister’s bookshelf for years, and while I was visiting her I read it. It didn’t impress me in any way, it felt like any regular old sci-fi, although a bit creepy (and just a lil dash of sexism).

2. A book written by a Black woman in translation

Marie NDiaye: La Cheffe (La Cheffe) Translated from French to Swedish by Maria Björkman

This is a lovely novel, even if it focused on French food - and the detailed descriptions reminded me that French food is overrated. I loved the character la Cheffe, it was highly enjoyable to read about her relationship to people and her profession, and the narrator had sweet heart eyes that shined through the text.

3. A translated book originally published before 1950

Choderlos de Laclos: Farliga förbindelser (Les Liaisons dangereuses) Translated from French to Swedish by Arvid Enckell.

This prompt was the easiest to fulfill, and I had several choices for it. I've spoken about this book elsewhere on this here blog - it's morbidly fascinating to read about terrible, terrible people.

4. A translated non-fiction book

Romaric Godin: Klasskriget i Frankrike (La guerre sociale en France) Translated from French to Swedish by Johan Wollin

For this prompt, I went to a local bookstore and asked the seller for help. She had to dig around for a while before she found something that wasn't originally written in English - like she pointed out, most academics choose to write in English, even if they're not native speakers.

I picked this one because I've seen snapshots of the yellow wests in the news, but I know barely any of the context. Although the book is short, it's a pretty detailed overview of recent French economic history, with an emphasis on explaining why and how French neo-liberalism ended up looking like it is today (and why French neo-liberalism is different from the neo-liberalism in the rest od Europe). This tickled my inner economics nerd.

5. A translated novel 500 pages or longer

Isabel Allende: Andarnas hus (La Casa de los Espíritus) Translated from Spanish to Swedish by Lena Anér Melin

Another book that has been sitting on my sister's shelf! I absolutely loved it - a family saga, in a time of social change. Look, my favourite part about any book is when the characters feel like humans, even if they're not relatable, I can still understand them.

6. A book translated from Swedish, Danish, Norwegian, Finnish or Icelandic

Vigdis Hjorth: Arv och miljö (Arv og miljø) Translated from Norwegian to Swedish by Ninni Holmqvist

In my case, it meant a book translated from either Danish, Norwegian or Icelandic (I do have to pepper in the fact that I'm a polyglot, after all). It's my sister who recommended it to me, and she was right when she said this was good! I loved the three separate timelines, the prose, and the family drama.

7. A translated book by a South American author

María Sonia Cristoff: Håll mig utanför (Inclúyanme afuera) Mariana Enríquez: Det vi förlorade i elden (Las cosas que perdimos en el fuego)Translated from Spanish to Swedish by Hanna Axén

What? Two books?? Yes, when I searched the library catalogue it spit out these two - because they have the same translator - and since they both seemed interesting I checked both of them out.

Unfortunately, these are the two books of this challenge that I liked the least. The first one didn't have a premise that worked with me - the main character chose to listen more than she spoke for a year as an experiment, and as an introvert, to whom this is how I've always lived my life, it was hard for me to understand what the big deal was.

The second was just my personal taste - these short stories had bloody ghosts, and ended abruptly without quite resolving the story - that creepiness just doesn't vibe with me.

8. A translated book by a Chinese author

Eileen Chang: Ett halvt liv av kärlek (Banshengyuan) Translated from Chinese to Swedish by Anna Gustafsson Chen

After quite a slow start I suddenly was drawn into this book. It's such a lovely read on when life doesn't always work out the way you want, and you still do your best to be happy. It felt very real, without being a 'happily ever after', or it's opposite of endless tears - that sweet middle ground spot.

9. A book translated from Arabic

Rajaa Alsanea: Flickorna från Riyadh (Banāt al-Riyāḍ) Translated from Arabic to Swedish by Tetz Rooke

I found this when messing around with the "similar books"-algorithm on Storygraph (I've just finished Unmarriageable, and liked it a so much I wanted to find something similar). When this one popped out I noticed the Arabic author name, and checked it out from the library. I've actually never read any book set in the Middle East, and I loved seeing a glimpse of life there (naturally, this isn't a comprehensive illustration - the main characters were all from well-off families). The most interesting thing was how the characters adjusted their behaviour as they travelled between Europe and Saudi Arabia - the social rules are different depending on where you are (and if you meet a fellow Saudi in London, your day is ruined - because suddenly you have to behave in accordance to Saudi rules).

10. A book translated from a language spoken in India

Vivek Shanbhag: Ghachar ghochar (Ghāchar ghōchar) Translated from Kannada to English by Srinath Perur; translated to Swedish by Peter Samuelsson

At first I was cranky about that this is a translation of a translation - but in the acknowledgements I read that it was the author's request that the book is to be translated from English. I assume it's because the English translator already has made the inevitable tradeoffs between language and form, which the author approved, and so the Swedish translator wouldn't have to make the decisions all over again.

This was a short book, just over a hundred pages. It barely had any plot, but it didn't need any - the description of the family members' relationship to each other was juicy enough.

In conclusion

This challenge was a great opportunity for me to also try genres I never would have tried otherwise - I was limited to what my library had, and especially for the smaller languages, it's a limited choice. I've been talking about this translation challenge to everyone I know because I've had so much fun! And the best part is - it's only ten prompts. That means I wouldn't need to scram to finish it in time, even while also reading the regular same old books I do still want to read. While I'm waiting for the 2022 challenge, I'll be doing another round for these prompts - I've already checked out a short story collection originally written in Tamil, and a nonfiction about Syrian resistance originally written in Arabic :)

[theangriestpea]

Amazing || Jughead Jones

Summary: College saw the end of Jughead and Betty, but perhaps that led the rekindling of Jughead and Lily...

Pairing: Jughead Jones x OC (Lily Owens)

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: shameless smut, thigh riding, public orgasm, mild hair pulling, v mild choking (I mean super duper mild), mirror sex

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY BESTIE @the-gargoyle-queen​! I wrote this entirely for her in a span of three days. Hopefully you love it, bby <3

It was late and the party was booming. The loud bass of the music vibrated in Jughead’s chest as he sat alone on one of the many couches in Thornhill. Archie had dragged him to this stupid party and had quickly abandoned him to go play ass grab with Veronica. Big surprise. 

Betty was dancing with some unknown college boy and his heart ached at the sight of her. They had both agreed that seeing other people while in college would be the best thing and now that it was winter break and all the old Riverdale students had come back home to celebrate the holidays, he had to watch how quickly and easily she had moved on. 

He himself had moved on, or so he thought until he saw her grinding against whoever this was on the dancefloor. Perhaps it was just longing to not be alone that plagued him. While away at the local community college he hardly thought of her. He mostly poured into his school work and was obsessed with the new book he was writing about growing up on the Southside. He didn’t have time to mourn his highschool sweetheart. 

A familiar face crossed into view, hand on her bare hip. He spied the serpent tattoo that was showing between her fingers. “Jughead Jones, I know you didn’t just come here to mope.” She said with a laugh. 

“You dyed your hair..” Jug mumbled as he spotted her once blonde locks were now a deep brunette. She was still as beautiful as he remembered and his mind drifted back to the night he took her virginity during one of his and Betty’s many breakups. She had felt so right then and he wondered why he had let her go back to Sweet Pea. Perhaps that was just how things were meant to be. 

Lily laughed lightly at his observation before shoving once of the cups in his face. “Drink! It’ll make you feel better.” She said happily, having missed her good friend (and long time crush).

Jughead grabbed the cup and drank it all in one continuous swallow. Lily watched him with an eyebrow quirked. If he was that thirsty why didn’t he just get a drink himself? He patted his lap, tongue running over his lips to collect the last of the weak horse piss he just forced down his throat. “Sit with me.” He said, not in an ordering tone but rather one that was airy and reminiscent. 

She smirked at him and sat down on his lap playfully, straddling the leg that he had just patted with his hand. She knew that wasn’t his intention when he made the gesture but it was amusing to watch his shock face slip into a devious look. 

He put the cup down on the end table and grabbed her hips. “It’s been awhile.” He said back as she settled down onto his jeans. He wished he could feel her underwear against his bare skin. What he didn’t know was that she hadn’t been wearing any.

His eyes dared to look down to see her skirt riding up so that he could see the tops of her thigh highs. There were little black bows on the end of her garter straps, causing him to swallow hard. Jughead had always had a terrible weakness for them. He especially loved to have sex with a girl wearing nothing but thigh highs. Bonus points if she wore garters to keep them up. His dick twitched in his pants almost painfully aware of just how attracted to her he still was. 

“How have you been?” He asked, silently wondering if she was seeing anyone. He knew her and Sweet Pea were no longer an item. He had stayed to go to trade school here in Riverdale while she went to the same college he did just south of Riverdale. He saw on her campus every once in a while. He had never worked up the courage to approach her. 

Lily smiled as she took a sip of beer from her cup. “Pretty good. Just trying to get through school, you know?” He nodded back to show that he did, in fact, know. All to well, actually. It wasn't particularly hard just a large workload. He had probably fulfilled his lifetime quota of all-nighters already and he was still a freshman. 

His thumbs rubbed her hip bones absentmindedly and he was pretty happy that she chose to wear her signature crop top with an open red flannel shirt. Better yet, for the first time since he arrived back in Riverdale he wasn’t thinking of Betty. He could hardly remember her name as he stared into Lily’s bright emerald eyes. 

“How is your book coming along?” She asked curiously, her head tilting to the side slightly as she ignored the spark his touched caused her in the pit of her stomach. 

Jug grinned, “Pretty good! I was hoping I could interview some other people that grew up on the Southside. Would you be interested?” 

Lily smiled and nodded before shrugging, “sure, why not? Sounds like fun.” 

A silence fell between them as they both stared at one another’s lips in longing. God how she had missed him and him her. It had been way too long since they had been together like this and while he had been so wrapped up with Betty during highschool he briefly wondered if maybe he should have been wrapped up in Lily instead… 

Jughead was the first to lean in. His lips met hers gently. He braced himself for her to pull away or leave his lap suddenly in anger, but she didn’t. Instead her lips moved against his, opening slightly so that his tongue could find its way into the familiar territory of her mouth. 

The music continued to hammer in their chests, their hearts moving in a fast paced rhythm to it as Lily hastily set her drink down on the table. One hand went to the back of his neck to tease the ends of his dark hair while the other planted itself on his shoulder. 

Soft moans reverberated between the two, intensifying the needy kiss that they both had been thirsting for for far too long. His hands were still firmly gripping her hips and a coy idea sparked inside his libidinous mind as his thigh hit her uncovered core. 

Suddenly Jughead broke the kiss on her lips to trail biting nips along her jaw to her neck. He found her weak spot and began to suck on it harshly as he began to forcibly move her hips so that she was grinding against his leg. Again he waited for a sign of protest, but instead low mewls began to tumble from her bee stung lips. 

“Juggie,” She whimpered into his ear as she started to move her hips on her own accord so that she could feel the delicious friction against her clit. Sparks of pleasure ran through her stomach from between her legs, her skirt riding up even more to accommodate the new range of motion. 

Jughead smirked against her skin as he bit her neck roughly. One of his hands left her hips since she was moving them herself now and palmed her breast through her clothes. The added sensation caused Lily to inhale sharply before moaning once more. 

She increased her pace desperately as a coil of desire wound its way in the pit of her abdomen. Her hips jerked down roughly and rhythmically until she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the cry she let out upon release. 

Jug let go of her neck, kissing the back of the hand that covered her mouth as his hands moved to lightly hold her waist. Lily’s pupils were blown wide as she greedily took in air. She searched his blue orbs for what felt like an eternity before smirking at him, “ready for round two?” She asked in a joking tone as he gave her a curious look. 

Lily got off of him and grabbed his hand. He stood up off of the couch and followed her as she pulled him up stairs to the second level and to an unoccupied half bathroom. As soon as the door shut she was pulling him down for a rough kiss before hopping up on the sink counter. 

He found his place between her legs, pulling her closer to him by her thighs., His thumbs absentmindedly played with the ribbons that connected her socks to her garters. “You know what these do to me.” He said between wet kisses. 

She laughed, knowing fully well what they did to him. It was part of the reason why she wore them tonight. She had hoped she would see him here and maybe reconnect with him. After all, he seemed to ignore her any time they crossed paths at school. She needed him, even if it was just one last time. 

“I have a surprise for you, Jughead Jones.” Lily said in a voice filled with nothing but sinful seduction. He leaned away from her slightly, giving her the same inquisitive look that he had just downstairs. 

Lily pulled her skirt up to show that she was bare underneath, her secret finally revealed. “Fuck,” Was all he could breathe out at the delicious sight below him. His thumb moved between her legs to press against her clit, swollen from stimulation. Her head tilted back slightly as she moaned, louder now that they were in semi-private. 

Jughead was already rock hard in his jeans. He used his free hand to grab a condom from his back pocket and set it on the counter as Lily fiddled with the button to his pants. She unfastened it before pulling down his zipper. 

Soon enough she had freed his cock and her fingers were smearing his pre-cum across his engorged head. He bit his lip to keep quiet before pulling her off of the counter. Lily let out a squeak of surprise as he turned her around, “I want you to watch yourself,” He said, his large hand briefly wrapping around her throat to force her to keep her head forward, “watch your pretty face as I fuck you.” He whispered hoarsely into her ear before nibbling at the lobe. 

Lily inhaled, holding her breath with anticipation as she watched him put the condom on in the mirror. His hand had left her neck and she was silently hoping he’d put it back there. 

Jughead teased her slit of her labia with his tip. He looked up to make sure she was still watching their reflection and was pleased to see that she was transfixed on it. When he found the entrance to her core he pressed into it, easily sliding in due to how wet she was. 

A soft moan escaped Lily as he filled her completely, stretching her thoroughly with his dick. Jughead let out his own grunt of approval at how tight she was around him, her walls warm and smooth. 

One of his hands trailed up her back to grab her hair to hold her head in place so she couldn’t look away. He tugged it lightly as he pulled out almost completely before slamming into her again. Lily moaned again, this time much louder as he hit the sensitive spot inside of her. 

He watched her reflection as she bit down on her lower lip, waiting impatiently for him to move again. Her eyes connected with his with a pleading look. He simply stared back until she let out a groan of frustration, “Jughead, please, fuck me already!” 

He chuckled darkly before moving his hips in a fluid motion, pumping in and out of her at a reasonable pace. Not super fast but not slow either, simply perfect for the moment. Lily had a hard time looking at herself as she came undone, but also couldn’t look away mostly due to the firm grip he had on her hair. 

Her sounds of pleasure began to bounce off the walls as they became louder and louder. Jughead groaned multiple times as he sped up his pace. His other hand snaked around her front and began to prod at her clit again. 

Lily’s vision was becoming hazy as she struggled to keep eye contact with herself. She couldn’t close her mouth now, too much sound was coming out to do that. Her heavy pants were starting to fog the mirror as she was leaning over the counter more, unable to completely hold herself up on her own with how badly her legs were quaking. 

Jughead could feel her growing weaker, no doubt on the edge of her peak. He rolled her clit between his finger and thumb and Lily practically screamed at the sensation. Without much forewarning, her walls were suddenly contracting hard against him as she came. And for the first time she watched herself as she did so. Or at least, as much as she could before her eyes rolled back and closed. 

Jughead cursed at how much tighter she suddenly was. He pumped into her still, letting her ride out her high before finally hitting his own release. His cock twitched inside of her as he spilled a large load of semen into the condom. 

He rested his head on her back between her shoulder blades as they caught their breaths. Their chests moved in sync after a few minutes of heavy panting. Jughead lifted up slightly and kissed the side of her neck before straightening up and pulling out. 

Lily remained resting against the sink in a state of pure bliss. Her own liquids were trailing slowly down her thigh until she felt something soft clean it up. She lazily opened her eyes to see Jughead cleaning her up lovingly before cleaning off his own member. He even fixed her skirt so she was covered again. 

She licked her lips as she managed to sit up and turn around. “Want to go back to my place?”

His dark eyes clouded with lust once more, a storm brewing behind his bright blues. “And leave this amazing party?” He asked jokingly. 

A smirk formed on her lips, “oh Juggie, you haven’t seen amazing yet.”

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || epilogue.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~2.5k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: Just fluff

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. || last day. || one year later. || epilogue. || bonus. ||

To say these past two years have been hard would be an understatement. After we met up again, we stayed for the rest of the week to talk and figure out the most important details of this relationship we were entering into. Many hours of serious talks and making up for lost time, we jetted off and have been together ever since.

Being with him has been the most challenging but rewarding time of my life. I’ve also never been so terrified of losing someone before so I try and spoil him as often as I can to show him I appreciate him. After a long day of filming, I have a home-cooked meal ready for him as well as a cup of his favorite tea. I give him shoulder and back rubs if he’s stressed. Small gestures to show him how crazy I am about him.

Tom has also treated me like I’m the most special person in his life. He spoils me with small gestures as well as extravagant ones such as taking me to Norway for my birthday to explore my Norwegian roots and baking brownies for finishing the last book in my series. He’s been there for me for everything, to when I got overwhelmed while writing my books to similar situations we found ourselves in years before. They don’t happen very often but having him there for every single bad moment has made a world of a difference. He always shows me that he’s here for the long run, no matter what the world throws at us. He has truly become my rock, my confidante, my love, and my life. He is my best friend and the love of my life. I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have him.

After leaving the chalet, we flew to London to meet his family. My nerves were already on edge, but I was more worried about meeting Bobby. I was never a huge dog person, having grown up with cats. Don’t get me wrong, I like dogs. They’re too precious for this world and we don’t deserve them. He quickly became my baby though after meeting him. He was easy to love, just like his daddy.

When I did meet his family though, they welcomed me with open arms. They were elated to finally meet his “famous author girlfriend” who “stole our Tom’s heart.” They were getting tired of him only talking about me, our week together, and how he couldn’t wait to see me again. He was thoroughly embarrassed but I assured him that my best friend went through the same thing. They also loved the fact that Tom finally brought someone home. I was surprised how well I got along with them. It was more shocking that they had all read my book and loved it, wanting to know what else I had planned (apparently Tom made them all read it when he saw them after we met). 

And because of the series finally being finished, I’ve decided to reveal myself which is the reason why I’m backstage at Ellen. I told my agent when I first hired her that if I were to ever relinquish my anonymity I would want to do it on Ellen’s show. When my agent called the show, they were thrilled. 

So now I’m here, freaking out about the whole thing. Thankfully, Tom is here being the rock I need right now. He hasn’t left my side the entire morning. He made me breakfast, he held my hand on the ride over here, he sent me encouraging smiles when I glanced at him from the make-up chair, and now his arms are secured around my waist as I stand backstage. I’m just waiting for the show to start. I briefly met with Ellen, only adding to my nervousness. She raved about my books, having read the backs of all of them. Her joke broke some of the nervous tension but as soon as she left and a PA came in telling me I needed to take my place, it was back.

 “I’m so nervous, I’m shaking! I hate being the center of attention and I hate public speaking. Why did I decide to do this again?” I ramble, hearing Ellen’s monologue in the background.

“Because my darling, you deserve to be recognized. Your books are phenomenal, and everyone needs to know who the creative genius behind them is.” He placed a kiss on my temple. I tried taking a few deep breaths.

“I wish you could go out there with me,” I whine. “This would be so much easier if I had your hand to hold.”

“I know, love. However, I am looking forward to being the one backstage for once. I can be the proud boyfriend watching my love’s success.” His pride is beaming off of him in waves. Usually I’m the one filled with pride for him on the sidelines. It’s odd being on the receiving end but having someone being proud of me is an indescribable feeling.

“One minute, Miss Ehlby.” The PA warned. “Just walk out and around the chair, greet Ellen, and then take a seat.”

“Break a leg, darling.” He gives me a kiss before I hear Ellen.

“My first guest has just released the final book in her coveted book series that includes ‘Deny’ which she published with two different endings, not telling anyone. They created such pandemonium that she’s been the most sought after author to interview. She’s remained anonymous, using a pseudonym to stay out of the spotlight. Today she is finally ready to come out of the shadows. Please welcome J.J. Ehlby.”

The music started playing and the PA motioned for me to start walking. I followed the light out, doing exactly what the PA told me to do and what I’ve seen countless celebrities do every time I watched the show with my mom. I greeted Ellen with a hug before sitting down on the nice white chair so many famous people have said they’ve peed on.

“Hi J.J.!” She greets again when the audience and music have quieted down.

“Hi Ellen!” I smile back.

“Thanks for being here. I know you could have chosen any other show to do your first interview but clearly you chose the best.” The audience laughs.

“I did choose the best. I told my agent years ago that my first interview had to be on your show whenever I decided to throw my anonymity out the door.” The more words I said the more comfortable I felt. It doesn’t feel like I’m in front of hundreds of people and one of the funniest and kindest people in the world.

“So, why don’t you tell us about yourself? No one knows anything about you except you’re a great writer.” She asks the first question I was prepared for. I was given a list of questions she would be asking so I could know what was coming.

“Well thank you. That’s why I wanted to publish using a pseudonym. I wanted to be able to have my professional and private life be separate until all of the books I had planned came out. With the last book in stores now, here I am!”

“How did you come up with the pseudonym?” Question two.

I explain it the same way I did to Tom all that time ago, “My initials actually. With my name being Jenessee Julia Lynette Borosi, I wanted to still have it be connected to who I am, but not so close that people could easily figure it out. So it became a play on my initials, J, J, L, B.”

“That’s clever,” She comments. “I never would have guessed that.”

“Thank you. I thought so, too.”

“Let’s get to what everyone has been talking about since your books came out. You published two different endings.”

“I did.” I admit, smiling evilly to myself.

“And you didn’t tell anybody.”

“Nope! That’s what initially drew the publishers in. I had posted it online which somehow gained their attention. It wasn’t popular online due to it not having any references to vampires, werewolves, or any sort of fanfiction. But when they contacted me they told me they liked both endings that I had in mind, so I told them that I wanted to do both and not tell anyone. They were immediately on board. No one had ever done anything like this before, so I thought, ‘why not?’”

“And you did a sequel only for one of them?”

I nod, “Yes. With one of the endings, it was finite enough to where it didn’t need one. But the other ending left it open-ended on purpose so that I could write a sequel to it.”

After a few more questions about the books, she asked the one I was most anxious about, “Since you write about love and falling in love so well, do you have that in real life? Do you have that kind of love in your life?”

Tom and I haven’t been very public about our relationship. Only posting non-descript and non-identifying pictures of the other and we never tag the other. We were waiting for my identity to be revealed before we go public. It’s been more fun that way. The fans go nuts for every single picture Tom posts. Everyone wants to know who I am. It’s also given us a chance to get to build our relationship outside of the media. We’ve been very sneaky. It’s tiring but exhilarating at the same time.

“I didn’t while writing the first and second books.”

“But you do now.” She states, not questions.

“I do, yes.” I can’t help the smile on my face as I think about my love backstage watching this. He’s talked about me on a few occasions. After his first interview about the “Chalet Girl,” everyone has asked about it. He did give an update after we officially got together, but he obviously didn’t give any details as to who I was. I’ve always felt giddy knowing he was proud of talking about me. I could imagine that’s how he is feeling now.

Ellen teases me about the instant smile causing my whole face to go red.  “What’s his name? How long have you been together?”

“His name is Will. We’ve known each other for three years and have been officially together for two.” Tom and I decided to use the names we first gave each other to the media so no one would suspect anything, just like when we used them.

The rest of the interview went by smoothly. She asked a few more questions about my books and then surprised the audience with a signed copy of my first book.

The next day Tom and I headed to Burbank from Los Angeles so we could tape an episode of the Late Late show. We were going into it like we hadn’t met before so we could shock the world by revealing that we were actually together and have been for a while. Tom wanted to go public with our relationship on James’ show because that’s where he made his first interview about me and he’s sentimental. He’s all about things coming full circle… such a romantic man I’ve got.

We headed to our separate dressing rooms and taped our “intro” video a while later then we moved onto the actual interview portion. We sat on the blue couch, me being the closest to James, then Tom. We were told someone else would be joining us later for a different segment. He sat a safe distance away from me so no one would think anything was going on.

“Welcome to the show, J.J.!” James greets me.

“Thank you! I’m excited to be here.” I cross my legs at the knee and relax into the back of the couch.

“And good to have you back, Thomas.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s great to be back.” He’s also leaning back with his ankle crossed over his knee. He looks like an absolute snack and there’s nothing I can do about it… stupid interview.

James went on to ask me basically the same questions Ellen did yesterday, bringing up her interview a few times. I repeated my answers trying not to sound like I rehearsed them a million times beforehand. He’d also asked me about my boyfriend, like Ellen did.

“Speaking of lovers, Thomas, how are you and your ‘Chalet girl’? How long has it been now?” James asks Tom, segueing into his portion of the interview.

“We are wonderful. We celebrated two years together this month.” And what an amazing anniversary it was. We traveled to Italy where we indulged in so much pasta and pizza. We also each tossed a coin into the Trevi fountain and took a tour of the Sistine Chapel. It was absolute perfection. I didn’t want to come back.

“So, I take it you’re still pretty infatuated with her.”

“Oh James, I’m more than infatuated with her. She’s the love of my life.” He confesses, sending me a quick glance. “I fully plan on making her my wife someday.”

We’ve talked countless times about our future: where we would want to get married and who we want there, where we want to raise our 2-3 kids, where we would want to retire to if we ever were to- everything and anything that our future may hold. I’m so excited for that time. I’d marry him tomorrow if he asked.

“Am I ever going to meet this lucky girl? You’ve been so secretive!”

“You already have.” He promptly gets up, plopping down right next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulders before grabbing my face and kissing me. 

“What?!” James gasped. “You two?!” He motions between us with the largest grin on his face. “She’s your ‘Chalet girl’?”

I stare at the man who I have fallen more and more in love with every day for the past three years. He looks at me with such love, devotion, pride… This wonderful man has shown me that I am worthy of love; worthy of his love. That I deserve this and so much more… and I truly believe I do now.

I bury my face in his neck as he answers, “As I mentioned before, she’s so much more than that.” His hand intertwined with mine on his lap. “I don’t know what I did to deserve an incredibly kind, funny, strong, independent, breathtakingly beautiful woman such as her in my life, but I’m the luckiest man. I really am.”

If my heart could fly, it would soar…

bonus...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

Taglist is CLOSED

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Unconventional Family - Chapter 2 - During

Chapter 1 - Before

Sumary:  “The way Cordelia looked at her made her go weak in the knees. She was about to die, she knew it and Cordelia also knew it. Madison had done a lot of fucked up things through life, most of them involving Cordelia, and yet the woman trusted her. She had no one else, she had no family, all she had was Cordelia and it had been like that for years now.”

Disclaimer: You might want to take care while reading this, there is mentions of violence, sexual abuse, drugs and alcohol use, and depression. Please, let me know if there are any grammatical mistake!

Read it at AO3

Cordelia and her talked about a lot of stuff. Minor things at first, like boys and hobbies, but then the woman started to fell more confident to ask her about other things too, like her family and the fact that she had been working since she was two. They also talked about Hank sometimes, Myrtle and, eventually, Cordelia’s mother. Cordelia was the first one to ever know about Madison’s bisexuality, something she never said to anyone because she was too scared of the consequences, especially with her career. She was also the first one to know how scared of clowns Madison was, how she missed home, even if there was no one there that cared about her, and about her heart murmur. Cordelia was worried sick about it and she searched in every place she could so she would learn all about a heart murmur since she wanted to be ready to help if Madison ever needed it – she went far enough to take Madison to three different doctors to get her checked..

They were starting to creat a bond that was more than just teacher-student when Madison overheard a conversation that the other two occupants in the house were having in the kitchen. She didn’t meant to, but Madison heard her name when she was passing by to go to her room and the curiosity took the best on her.

“You’re not her mother, sweetie.” Hank’s voice always sent shivers in Madison’s spine, like she should be scared of him for some reason, but she never actually understood why.

“I know that, Hank, but... but she has no one.” Cordelia sounded like she was sorry, pity even, and Madison felt her heart drop to her stomach.

“You see yourself in her, I get that. Both of you have some crap moms, but you don’t have to be that to her, okay?” There was a stop, but Madison was too shocked to move to keep walking or to see what was going on in the room. “You cancelled our date last night.” Cordelia had spent the night in Madison’s room so they could watch Buffy and laugh. “How are we going to have our kid like this? We have been planning this for years, sweetie, and we’re so close to get there, but how are we going to do this if you keep acting like you owe something to Madison?”

“Hank...”

“I know you. You feel like you owe that to her because you had Myrtle to replace your mother and she has no one. You don’t have to be that person to her, Cordelia.”

If Madison hadn’t run away she could have listen to Cordelia’s soft “I like her, Hank, she’s a good girl and I know I don’t owe her anything, but you can’t blame me for wanting to spent some time with her.”

Madison was back to her shell by the morning and Cordelia never found out what happened. Three months later, Queenie came along, followed by Nan a few weeks later. Suddenly Cordelia had more girls to worry about, more classes to give, more books to distribute. Less time for Madison, even if the girl wasn’t talking with her besides sarcastic comments for a while. The former actress would never admit it out loud, but she missed movie nights and ice creams after lunch.

Everyone could see that Madison had become the rebel teenager every cliche movie had. Cordelia still tried to talk with her like nothing had changed, but all she got back was snapping comments, glares and eye rolls, but Hank started to ignore Madison’s presence all along, not that she cared much about him - Queenie became the perfect target for her and Nan was just a pain in the ass. Madison was alone one more time.

Madison tried not to get bitter with Queenie and Nan, she really did. She told herself, many times, that it wasn’t their fault, that they didn’t had how to know that they weren’t supposed to be there, but something inside of her still made her hate them. Well, hate sounded a little too strong of a word, but that did, for sure, stop Madison of having a nice relationship with them, she could realize it, because she wasn’t dumb as many people could think.

She also didn’t had a good relationship with Fiona. Sure, Madison admired her for her power, but she really hated that bitch with all her heart. Fiona was too much like her own mother, more concerned about herself than with people around her, not giving a shit about her daughter and too busy traveling the world to care. So, yes, Madison admired the Supreme’s figure, but she disliked Fiona and would have punched her in the face if she ever had the chance. And the only other person in the house was Hank, so Madison had literally no one else.

Madison couldn’t deny that during the year she lived alone in the house she was happy, because she was. Truly. She was learning more things about magic, doing stuff she never thought it was possible and she was having a lot of fun. Not to mention that Cordelia became her mother figure, something she would never say out loud, but that she knew deep in her guts.

And even if things were great, it all went to Hell when she found out exactly why Cordelia acted the way she did. Madison felt used, like she was chose to fill a hole in their lifes because they couldn’t have the real deal.

  "Hey, do you want to go to the ice cream shop?" Cordelia already had her purse, knowing that the girl would never refuse the invitation to eat some delicious ice cream at their favorite place.

"No." Madison was layed down in her bed, her cellphone in her hands, a book by the floor that looked like she had throw it away a while ago.

Cordelia was taken back, a frowning running her face. "Are you feeling okay?" She asked and walked to the girl to put a hand in her forehead – she was sick, that was the only explanations she could think about.

"Don't touch me." Madison knocked Cordelia's hand away from her like it was on fire. "And get out of my room."

"Madison..." The older woman was looking at Madison like she had a second head suddenly. "What is going on? Did I..."

"Get the fuck out."

When Cordelia was out of the door, lost and confused, Madison allowed herself to cry.

  It wasn't the first time Madison ever used drugs, but it was the first time she was doing it with no intention to stop. She didn't remembered the name of the girl underneath her, but the girl offered her cocaine and Madison just followed her around. The sex wasn't planed, but it was a bonus, so, when the nameless girl poudded some of the cocaine in her stomach, Madison didn't hesitated even for a second before she leaned over to take it, while her fingers kept pounding inside the girl.

Cordelia's face crossed her mind for a second and she wondered what would be her teacher's reaction if she saw her right now - or even find out about the drugs or the pot under her bed. She didn't spent much time considering it, the image of Cordelia and Hank in the kitchen took place and Madison soon found herself accepting some of the ecstasy the girl was handing her.

  Zoe Benson was just someone else she had to deal with. A new girl, boring, with nothing to offer and placed in her room as a punishment. Madison didn’t want a roommate. She managed to avoid both Queenie and Nan, but, even if they still had plenty of empty rooms, Cordelia still put Zoe in her room. It had to be a punishment for her.

Taking Zoe out to a party in the girl’s first night there was her own way of punish Cordelia back. Take the inoccent, nice and well educated girl out, and make Cordelia regret her decision to let them be together. Nothing ever back fired so fast in her life before. Ironically, Madison heard Cordelia’s voice while the first boy was forcing himself on her, it was low and muffled, in the back of her mind – “don’t ever accept drinks from strangers!” – something her own mother never told her.

Flipping the bus wasn’t the only thing she wanted to do, if she could, Madison would had set the whole thing on fire and explode – when she set the curtain on fire, that was the only thing she could think about. But, at the time, it was impossible, so she just turned around and walked away, thinking about how much she wanted to go home and crawl in bed to cry.

Something broke inside of her, the last thing that made Madison a sweet girl one day maybe, she wasn’t sure, she just knew something was deeply wrong with her. It also didn’t help that Zoe decided to tell people about it and it, for sure, didn’t help when Fiona pretended it was nothing. It was something. It happened to her, didn’t the woman cared about her own Coven? Who would she boss around if there was no Coven at all?

Cordelia never heard about it and Zoe’s guilty finally acted, so she kept her mouth shut. Madison was happy. The woman didn’t needed to know about it.

  Misty Day was the first person she ever saw after coming back to life for the first time. Madison had no clue who that woman was, or why she was so close, or even what the hell was going on, but something about her made the girl calm down and don’t freak out. She still needed her cigarette though. Madison remembered only small pieces of information about what happened, but she knew enough to find out how she ended up like a corpse.

Fiona didn’t liked her, it was obvious since the beggining, but she also didn’t liked the old woman, so it was fine. Of course Madison wasn’t expecting to have her throat open with a scissor in Fiona’s hand, especially after they shared such a fun night. Madison felt stupid. While they drank, danced and laughed, she honestly felt like Fiona was her friend, and she let her guard down. It proved to be fatal. It would be, one day, since Madison was used to be let down by people, even if being murdered was news for her.

Zoe was worried about her. She kept following Madison around like she was a bomb about to explode when her zombie boy wasn’t demanding her attention, but the former actress couldn’t care enough to talk to her. Madison still felt numb, like she was still dead.

Numb. Her stomach could barely keep anything inside, everything tasted like nothing in her mouth and her fingers felt like a strange body when she touched something. It was like her body wasn't hers anymore and it was fucking scary.

  “Hey.”

Madison almost ran away when she heard Misty’s voice approaching her. She was sitting by the porch, smoking her fourth cigarette while watching the people walking around like they didn’t had a problem in the world, feeling a little jealous of the simple life some of them seemed to have. Madison never had a simple life, she always had to follow scheduals, attend her obligations and work hard, and life wasn’t getting easier for her – being killed could be used as an example.

“How are ya feeling?”

The younger girl considered the question for a couple of seconds, not sure about the answer in her head. It seemed like she didn’t actually ‘felt’ anything. “Why do you care?”

Misty sat by her side, shrugged and rubbed her hands in her dress. “I have been there. I know how it feels.”

“You know fuck.” Madison scoffed, trying to sound mad, even if her eyes were tearing up. Why didn’t she felt anything? “Leave me alone.”

The Cajun didn’t said anything for a few minutes. She just sat in silence while Madison finished her cigarette and pulled another one out, watching how the wind blew the leaves in the trees. “I won’t.” She promissed, finally.

Madison looked a little surprised with the honest answer. “The hell?”

“Cause I know ya don’t want that, Madison.” Misty sighed. “Ya don’t wanna be alone, dosen’t matter how hard ya say that to yourself.”

“Oh, please, light me with your wisdom about myself, stupid bitch.”

Misty ignored the harshness. “I can feel your soul, Madison.”

“And what the exact fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The older woman slowly turned her head to face Madison, a sad smile in place. “I never saw such a lonely soul.”

  To see Cordelia’s disfigured face was a shock. It was the first feeling that Madison felt after she came back from Hell and, as most things in her life, it wasn’t something good. For the first time since she overheard Hank in the kitchen, Madison held back her comments. She could see that Cordelia was already beaten herself up enough, the last thing she needed was Madison making things worse for her.

So, instead, she spent her days locked in her room or running after Kyle, trying to get his attention. If Madison actually payed any attention to her own feelings, she would have noticed it wasn’t Kyle she was trying to get with, she would have realized she was only chasing him because she wanted someone else attention to herself. But she didn’t, because feelings was something Madison ran away from, so she kept pushing, until Kyle finally fucked her against a wall, rough and sloppy, like he had no idea what he was doing, but was still willing to do – later that night she wondered if he, in fact, had no idea what they did, since he was a big baby after all.

And yet, Madison felt nothing. Sure, having the boy’s dick inside her made things more exciting, but the feeling left her body so fast that she wasn’t even sure she even felt it in first place. Madison wasn’t used to it. She was used to the lack of good emotions, but she always felt something, like anger – most of the time, to be honest. The fact that she couldn’t anymore scared the hell out of her.

Laying in her bed later that night, when Zoe was gone, helping Kyle to shower or whatever, Madison allowed herself to think. Unsurprisingly, she wished she still could go talk with Cordelia. She would know what to do, she would know what’s wrong with her. Even if she would only pretend to care.

  Madison walked down the stairs that morning with more confidence than she did the other day. Small victory. Everyone was missing. She heard Zoe waking up before the sun raised, the girl left the room shortly after and hadn’t return until Madison left. Even if she wasn’t sure, Madison could bet she was with her love boy. With a sigh, she entered the kitchen, searching for her beloved coffee.

She stoped in her tracks when she saw Cordelia standing in the kitchen counter, blindly moving her hands around. Madison spoted a empty mug about two inches from her hand and she knew what was about to happen before it even did. Cordelia moved her hand again and, even if it was slow and calculated, she knocked the mug out of the counter. Her hand retracted back to her chest like it was burned and her whole body flinched while she waited for the noise to echoed throught the house.

It never happened.

Quickier than she thought she could, Madison raised her hand, thinking about the simple spell Cordelia teached years ago, and the mug stoped just before it hit the hard floor. She saw how Cordelia’s head moved to the side, confused, while she wondered why the cup hand’t broken like it was obvious it would.

“Misty?”

Madison could hear the uncertain in her voice. Cordelia wasn’t the most confident person to ever step in the world, or in the house, but she never sounded so defenceless. Instead of saying anything, Madison walked to the sink, moving her hand so the mug would follow her until she could grab it. Quietly, she slidded the tea pack to herself, picked one and placed in the mug, before taking the kettle to add the hot water in it.

“Madison.” It wasn’t a question, so the girl didn’t aswered it, but she almost smiled. She saw Cordelia making tea inumerous times before and, even if she hadn’t done one herself, she knew just how the woman liked it – and even if the woman couldn’t see her, she knew it was Madison. She knew.

The younger blonde worked in silence, putting two spoons of honey in the mug, mixing it together and slidding it back to Cordelia. Madison wondered how the woman was able to grab all the ingredients and turn on the stove without blowing up the kitchen, but she wasn’t going to ask her any questions about it. It was already hard enough to see Cordelia’s face, her empty eyes, she didn’t need the descrition to go with it.

Madison held the mug until Cordelia’s fingers closed around it, then the actress finally let it go and took a step back. “Thank you.” The woman said, taking the tea closer to her. Madison opened her mouth to say something, but shut it fast again. She looked around the kitchen, finally spotting the coffee pot in the corner. “I smelled coffee earlier.” Cordelia offered. “I think Zoe did some.”

Cordelia always made coffee to her students. She prefered if they drank tea, but she knew she couldn’t expect that from Madison, and then Zoe showed up, and Cordelia finally gave in. But Madison figured she couldn’t do it now. A shame, she made the best coffee.

With a sigh, Madison grabbed a cup from the cabinet, put some coffee in it and walked away. She saw a wild blonde hair with her corner of her eyes and she knew it was Misty coming inside. Cordelia would be fine.

  Madison wasn’t thinking when she hit Misty’s head with the brick. Well, she was thinking, to be honest, but she wasn’t considering what the hell she was doing. She was killing a person. She was taking someone else life. Sure, Misty didn’t die with the impact in her head, but she was going to die in the coffin, and even if Madison knew it, she still turned her back and walked away like Misty was less than a fly.

It didn’t hit her until she finally got home and saw Cordelia. She had new eyes, Myrtle got her a few days ago, and she was searching for something when Madison crossed the door.

“Hi, Madison.” Cordelia’s old smile was back. It has been a while since Madison last saw it. Before Queenie, before Nan, before she freaked out. “Did you see Misty? She asked me if I could show her...”

“I haven’t.” Madison cut her short, crossing her arms. Cordelia’s smile dropped a little, her eyes running around the room like she was expecting – no, hoping – that the other woman would just jump from one of the corners. “What is this suddenly interest in the Swamp bitch? Are you looking for someone else to screw over?” She didn’t gave Cordelia the chance to say anything, Madison just turned around and walked upstairs.

It was enough, though, to see the look in Cordelia’s face. Hurt. She was hurt with Madison’s words. Cordelia was the first person that ever cared about her, even if she was pretending or using Madison, and that was something the girl couldn’t lie about. Cordelia cared about her and she clearly cared about Misty as well. And Madison just hit Misty’s head with a brick and let her to die suffocated in a coffin – which, by the way, was supposed to be used by someone else - in the middle of a cemitery.

Madison was able to ran to her room before she let anyone see the single tear rolling down her face. It wasn’t fair, she knew it. Misty was a good person and she didn’t deserve to die, and Cordelia didn’t deserved to lost her only friend, or whatever Misty was to her. But it also wasn’t fair to have to do it, Madison thought. Fiona was very clear when she said there was only one Supreme and the woman thought it was her, Madison. That’s why the old bat killed her in the first place. Fiona let it clear that it’s how things worked in the Coven and Madison wasn’t going to lie and say she didn’t want to be the Supreme. The most powerful witch in the world, Fiona once told her. Yes, she wanted that, deep down she wondered if in fact she actually needed it more than wanted it, but that wasn’t the point. The point is that she killed her competition, just like Fiona showed her how.

She craved the power, the control that would come with being the Supreme. Control was not something she had much in her life before and it was only getting worse with time – first with the college boys, than with Fiona, than with Spalding. Spalding, the fucking jerk, that kept her dead body to his own sick pleasure. Madison didn’t knew what he has done to her and maybe she didn’t wanted to know, but that was just something else to add to the giant list of things she had lost control off.

Madison only wanted it back.

  She wasn’t surprised that Misty was mad at her when she came back - Madison was still mad at herself to be fair – but she was surprised when the woman punched her in the face. Madison never got into a fisical fight with anyone in her life, so she had no clue how to deffend herself or attack back. Misty was strong and she was mad, and Madison wished Cordelia had stoped her to do it, because her mouth and ribs were sore for days after that.

She knew it had to exist a spell that would make the pain and marks go away, but she would have to ask Cordelia about it, and the last thing she wanted was to do it. Cordelia let her be beaten up, she wasn’t worried about her before and she wouldn’t be after the bruises appeared in her pale skin, so no, Madison was not going to ask for her help with that. Instead, she popped some pain killers with vodka and hope not to die again.

Zoe had no reasons to be worried about her, not after every shit Madison had pulled, but she was the one who offered the pain pills in the first place and, even if she didn’t said a thing when Madison swallowed them down with the vodka, she still sticked around until it was clear the blonde wasn’t going to kill herself with those.

The reason why Cordelia didn’t said a thing only occured to Madison five days later, when she was out to buy another bottle of vodka, standing behind some old lady holding a walker. Cordelia couldn’t see her. The woman stabbed her own eyes to find Misty and now she was blind again, which meant she couldn’t see her bruises. Madison sighed when the lady walked until she was the next in line. Well, Cordelia was also not going to see the empty bottle in the trash tomorrow.

  Madison felt something inside of her break when she saw Cordelia crying over what should be Misty’s body. Ashes. Dead, again. That was what? The third, forth time? And Cordelia never stoped crying. Madison wondered why she was so sure Misty was the next Supreme and why the woman allowed Swampie to do anything that would risk her own life when it was clear how much she cared about her. She stabbed her own eyes, after all, just to find Misty and bring her back to life, and she didn’t even knew for sure that she was dead.

Madison got up from her seat. She saw how some of the ashes around Cordelia moved with the wind that her movenment caused and stayed still for a couple of seconds. Misty was dead. That was it, she wasn’t the Supreme, which means it was either Zoe, Queenie or her – in the back of her mind she remembered about the other two witches in the room.

“Cordelia, she’s gone.” Myrtle knew. Of course she knew, how couldn’t she? Cordelia was like her own daugther, the woman wouldn’t be so obvious to let that slip of her mind. So why would she make things worse? “We have to keep going.”

They didn’t had to, Madison thought. Cordelia didn’t looked like she wanted, neither did Zoe. Madison recalled the image of Fiona in her head. The most powerful witch in the planet. She had the money, the power, people around her, everything Madison thought was necessary, but she didn’t had no one crying for her like Cordelia was crying over Misty’s ashes.

A few hours later, with Kyle’s hands around her neck, Madison thought about the irony of it all. She spent most of her life being teached to be like Fiona, to seek for control, to boss people around, to have power and fame, until she met Cordelia. Cordelia teached her about all the other stuff in life that her own mother never bothered to do and she showed her a way that Madison didn’t even knew it existed. Madison had everything to be different and in the end she was just like Fiona.

She wondered, just before her lung stoped fighting, if anyone was going to cry over her body.

She knew the true.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

be careful of the curse (that falls on young lovers) [iii/iii]

After a lifetime of being caught between the forces of good and evil, Ben Solo has developed one cardinal rule to maintain control over his own life: stay the fuck away from all things supernatural.

It’s a good strategy, one that works like a charm until the day he bumps into the devil herself.

The fact that she knows exactly who he is and what he’s running from makes things difficult. The fact that he’s ridiculously into her and they might be sort of, kind of dating? That makes things dangerous.

Part I | Part II | PART III: Ben’s Descent to the Underworld | Epilogue

Third and final chapter of my Halloween devil!Rey/mage!Ben fic! Will Rey and Ben find a solution to their conundrum? Will Ben be able to live with his decision? Will they live happily ever after in the Underworld? All this and more (a lot more, this chapter is 10k words, brace yourselves) below the cut!

Also available on AO3. Bonus backstory content here. Tumblr-only epilogue here.

she's got me so blind I can't see that she's a black magic woman and she's tryin' to make a devil outta me - Black Magic Woman, Fleetwood Mac

“Let’s just run away,” Ben suggests one morning, tracing idle circles into Rey’s lower back as the sun rises. It’s easier, sometimes, to entertain these outlandish scenarios than it is to grapple with the fact that even after a year of intensive research, he’s no closer to finding a viable solution than he was before. “We could leave it all behind, forget about the Force, move to a crowded mortal city where no one would ever find us…”

Rey shifts in his arms, folds her hands over his heart and rests her chin on top of her fingers. “Ben,” she sighs, the slightest hint of exasperation bleeding through. “You hate big cities.”

“I’d like them better if you were with me, I think,” he confesses easily, pictures the two of them in a tiny apartment overlooking a crowded city, space-saving charms on every available surface to house his books and her weapons; a home that’s entirely, seamlessly them.

“Besides,” Rey adds, never one to get caught up in impossible daydreams, “I can’t just leave. Who’d rule the Underworld? Who’d watch over my knights?”

Ben tries unsuccessfully to blow a piece of hair out of his face, and Rey just laughs after his third attempt, reaches up to brush the errant lock aside herself. “Does the Underworld even need ruling?” he asks, catches her hand before it can retreat and gently angles it so that he can press a kiss to her inner wrist. “I thought Darksiders thrive on chaos and disorder.”

Rey scoffs. “It’s all fun and games until a dispute goes on for two centuries with no end in sight because you don’t have any semblance of order or authority,” she explains. “The Underworld appreciates chaos, but even we don’t want to live in anarchy. Even that lawless cult land of your grandfather’s would happily welcome proper leadership.”

Proper leadership, as far as Mustafar is concerned, would mean nothing less than Ben succumbing to the curse his grandfather doomed him to and taking up Vader’s old mantle. Rey likes to remind him of that sometimes, to muse out loud how easy it’d be to unify the empire if he were by her side. It’s not a discussion he’d like to get into right now, so he quickly redirects the conversation before she can say something predictable.

“What about your knights? Can’t they look out for themselves?” he asks with a slight frown.

“The three of them together could probably take even me down,” Rey declares proudly before she goes on to lament, “but that won’t keep everyone else from calling them knock-offs and fakes.”

“Knock-off demons?” Ben echoes incredulously. “Since when are those a thing?”

Rey scowls, still resting on top of his chest. “They’re not,” she insists. “Sure, the knights were human when I found them, but I turned them into demons just like any other once they pledged their fealty to me. This shouldn’t even be an issue, especially not after all these decades.”

It’s clearly a sensitive topic, but Ben can’t help himself. “Sweetheart… you can’t just turn humans into demons.”

“Technically no, you can’t,” Rey concedes. “But once someone swears their allegiance to me I can do whatever I want, like extend their lifespans and imbue them with powers so that they’re demons in everything but blood. The rest of the Underworld is just pissed that I chose my own knights rather than picking from the noble houses.”

She admits to it so casually, making her knights long-lived and nearly invincible, as if that’s a common thing to do, as if that’s in any way an easy thing to do. In all his studies, Ben has only come across one instance of such a thing, when an ancestor of Rey’s fell for a mortal and tried her best to turn him into a worthy consort.

When her intended backed out at the last minute, too scared to go through with it after all, the jilted Queen killed him in a fit of rage and betrayal. It’s a depressingly common end for royal consorts in Rey’s family according to historical records, but the one time he found the nerve to broach the subject with her Rey had laughed her family’s messy love life off as a rumor and assured him that she would never hurt him.

“So without you around, you think they’ll–”

A sharp knock interrupts them, cuts into their peaceful early-morning silence with all the chilling precision of Rey’s knife-throwing. Ben tenses, and Rey immediately draws herself upright and growls at the open bedroom door, through which the front door is barely visible.

“I take it you weren’t expecting anyone?” she asks as the both of them get dressed, Ben pulling on last night’s tee shirt and sweatpants while Rey plucks a thick dressing robe of black velvet out of thin air. It’s a far cry from her usual morning attire – literally the shirt off Ben’s back, whenever he’s foolish enough to put one on – but then again, they’ve never had to deal with the possibility of someone tracking him down.

“Not at all,” Ben confirms as they both exit the bedroom, Rey taking the lead. He stops her in the living room with a hand around her wrist. “Stay here? Maybe it’s just someone asking for directions. Or one of those door-to-door salesmen.”

“I highly doubt even one of those people would be dedicated enough to trek all the way out here,” Rey frowns. “But okay, I’ll wait. The second something goes wrong though–”

“You can go all demon queen on them,” he assures her, leans in for a quick kiss before he proceeds to the front door alone. In all his years at Varykino, Ben has never once received a visitor. Even when the occasional lucky guess leads someone to his grandmother’s estate, the abandoned house is usually enough to send them away; no one would ever think to look for him in the isolated caretaker’s cottage, after all.

He curls his fingers around the doorknob with a fair amount of trepidation, and turns to shoot Rey a reassuring look over his shoulder before he finally opens the door to find–

“I do so hate it when Phasma is right,” a familiar redhead huffs upon catching sight of him.

“Hux?” Ben blurts out incredulously, blinking twice to make sure he isn’t hallucinating. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by for tea–” Hux says airily before he shoots Ben a scowl. “I’m looking for you, obviously! Twenty-seven goddamn years, Solo. We’ve looked everywhere for you, even placed a reversal charm on that crumbling house up the hill to see if maybe you’d just cloaked yourself. Phas had to go through the original blueprints for this place before she realized where you might be hiding out.”

Ben sighs. “She’s always been sharp,” he concedes before fixing his old acquaintance with a wary look. “Why all the effort, though? Don’t tell me you missed me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Hux snaps even as a grin tugs on the corner of his mouth. “When we heard that you’d left Skywalker for good, Phas and I thought that maybe you might have changed your mind. But I guess…” he gestures at the cottage, at the life and the choices it represents. Even stubborn, determined Hux knows what it means for twenty-seven years to have gone by without Ben contacting him.

“The answer’s still no, Armitage,” he confirms, though he tries to be polite about it. Hux and Phasma are just trying to be good friends, in their own odd way. But Ben has always known that the belonging he seeks won’t come from joining their Dark coven; now that he’s actually found that belonging, he’s less inclined than ever to join them.

Hux gives him a rueful smile. “Suppose I saw that one coming. But if an old friend were to ask for a cup of tea before he hits the road?”

Under any other circumstances, Ben would’ve flung his door wide open and invited the man in. After all, they actually were friends, at some point. In many ways, Hux might even have been the first friend Ben ever had – and the only one, up until Rey. But with Rey in the picture, and in his living room…

Before he can come up with an excuse, the cause of his hesitation snakes her arms around his waist from behind and presses her cheek to his shoulder. “Aren’t you going to invite him in, beloved? He asked so nicely.”

It’s almost comical, the way Hux immediately turns pale as death and drops down to one knee. “Your Majesty!” he cries. “I apologize, I did not know–”

“How could you have?” Rey asks with a dismissive wave of her hand, steps around Ben to look down at Hux. “Rise, Armitage. This isn’t court.”

Ben watches Hux hesitantly straighten up, takes note of the way he doesn’t quite meet Rey’s eyes as he thanks her. “You two know each other?” he asks, glancing between the two of them.

“The First Coven attends court every once in a while,” Rey shrugs. “And his father served Sidious, back in the day.” It’s an interesting bit of information, but nothing Ben didn’t know before. More than anything, it’s a subtle reminder for him to refer to her by her regnal name while they’re in the presence of company just as she does for her grandfather. He catches Rey’s eye and nods, just once, to acknowledge her message.

Rey turns to Hux. “Come in, then. I was just about to brew a pot of nightshade tea, and it’s always too much for one person. Ben here refuses to even try it,” she says with an exaggerated frown and bumps his shoulder teasingly.

“For the last time, it’s poison–” Ben reminds her.

“–which your body is perfectly capable of handling, Skywalker,” Rey points out before she disappears back into the house. She’s oddly convinced that he’s inherited his grandfather’s demonic physiology even though he hasn’t triggered the curse, but Ben’s not about to poison himself just to prove her wrong.

He turns to Hux with a resigned look, that what are you gonna do? half-smile his father used to wear whenever his mother got her way and Han was expected to just go along with it.

Hux returns the look with the wide eyes of someone who’s just woken up to find a dozen ghosts hovering at the foot of his bed. “What in the name of Andeddu?” he whisper-hisses. “Since when do you know Kira Ren?”

“It’s complicated,” Ben shrugs, giving Hux a default answer while he tries to come up with a better one. A year together but they’ve never actually been together in front of anyone else, which means that thus far he hasn’t had to explain the fact that he’s dating the devil.

“I’d say,” Hux snorts delicately, shoulders his way past Ben and watches as he shuts the door. “What the hell is even going on here?”

“Oh,” Rey emerges from the kitchen with a tray floating after her, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Hux blanch at the realization that she’s overheard their conversation. Show-off, Ben mouths fondly at her as she gestures for them to come sit in the living area. “I’ve recently started courting your friend here,” she announces casually, settling into the sofa with Ben while Hux takes the armchair. “Ben would make a strong King, don’t you think, Armitage?” Rey asks sweetly as she hands their guest a cup of tea.

Hux bows his head in thanks. “Certainly, Your Majesty,” he agrees immediately.

“And a handsome one too,” Rey sighs fondly as she raises a hand to caress Ben’s jaw, and he catches a glimmer of mischief in her eyes before she turns back to Hux. “We haven’t had a handsome King in centuries.”

The look on Hux’s face when he realizes she expects him to respond to that makes Ben snort into his teacup. The redhead clears his throat – twice – and begins with a shaky, “Um…”

It’s amusing, but Hux is beginning to turn as red as his hair, and only seems to get more nervous when Rey leans forward with interest. “Kira,” Ben says firmly, quietly.

“Oh, all right, I’ll stop teasing,” she grins, tosses her head back in that Kira Ren laugh that’s nothing like Rey’s. It’s somehow evaded him up until this very moment, the realization of how differently Rey is carrying herself around outside company, around a subject of hers. “So, Armitage, will we be seeing you at court this fortnight?”

Hux’s relief at the change in conversation lasts for all of five seconds. “Most likely, Your Majesty,” he grimaces. “We’ve been having some trouble with the Hutt tribe again–”

“Jabba?” Rey interrupts, her voice deceptively even. He knows for a fact that she detests the greedy Hutt and his network of criminals, and has a plan in the works to get rid of them eventually without collapsing the Underworld’s trade economy, but Rey keeps that admirably under wraps as she calmly addresses Hux. “Why wait until court, now that you and I are both here to speak of it? I’ll send a knight to check on the situation,” she decides. “Remind me, Armitage: you and Osado Ren get along well, don’t you?”

“We…” Hux does his best to hide his disdain, but Ben knows him well enough to see through his poor attempt at a mask. “We can be civil, Your Majesty.”

Rey can see through him too, if the way her shoulders shake is any indication. “No, you most absolutely can’t,” she titters. “I can’t tell who’s worse, the two of you or Phasma and Ẹsan. I’ll send Tiếc then, shall I?”

A quiet sigh of relief escapes Hux. “Her Majesty is very considerate,” he says deferentially, looking down at his teacup.

“See?” Rey nudges Ben’s shoulder with a grin. “I told you my subjects love me.”

He’s struck by the urge to kiss her forehead, but they’ve never really discussed the protocol for affection in front of her subjects. Ben gives her a fond smile instead. “Never doubted it, sweet–”

A sharp hiss from her lips silences him immediately, and both he and Hux watch on in concern as Rey sets her cup down on the coffee table with a clatter. She gets to her feet with a thunderous expression on her face, the kind that reminds him of just who she really is.

“What is it?” Ben asks softly.

When she turns to him, her scowl untwists itself and turns into a milder frown instead. “My knights,” Rey tells him. “They’ve found something.” She leans down briefly, presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back later.”

To Hux she says, “It was nice to see you, Armitage,” and with that, Rey disappears.

“So…” Ben mumbles after a while, when the lingering smoke of Rey’s transportation has finally dissipated. “That was weird.”

“You’re telling me,” Hux snorts, instantly at ease now that his Queen is no longer present. “I’d always heard that she’s a different person around her knights, but I never expected to actually see it. I mean, she laughed!” he exclaims, throwing one hand up for emphasis. “Kira Ren laughed, and it wasn’t cruel!”

Ben can’t help the frown that tugs at his lips. “I was actually talking about you being a complete suck-up, but what do you mean?”

“You’d be a suck-up too if you’d ever seen her in her element,” the redhead huffs defensively. “I once watched her hang a man on a butcher’s hook and slowly tear him apart over the course of three days.”

Nausea rises to the back of his throat even as his mind automatically rejects this information. He flinches, just the slightest bit, and Hux instantly realizes what he’s done.

“She had her reasons,” he hurries to explain. “The man had been selling children into sexual slavery.”

“Oh,” Ben says softly, relaxing shoulders that he hadn’t even realized he’d tensed. This sounds more like his Rey, more like the Kira Ren who spends her free time hunting down targets like the murderer from the night they met.

Hux sets his tea down, leans forward. “She’s not a monster, Ben,” he says gently.

“I never said she was.”

“I know,” Hux acknowledges, holds his palms up in a wordless request for peace. “But I also know that your family hasn’t left you with the best impression of us Darksiders,” he adds. “Kira Ren isn’t like the others before her, Ben. She can be brutal, yes, but never unfairly so. She’s a good Queen.”

Ben nods. And then, because Hux knows him well enough to know that he needed to hear that, because Hux probably knows him better than anyone else aside from Rey, he asks, “Do you think it can work? Me and her?”

Hux considers it for a moment. “As odd as it’ll be to call you my King,” he grimaces briefly before settling into a rare genuine smile, “I can see it, the two of you.”

The thing is, Ben’s starting to see it too.

And it’s more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced before.

A lot of things about Hux’s visit stay with Ben, but none more so than the confirmation that Rey really does act like a completely different person around him. He’d had his suspicions before, in the early days of their friendship when he first noticed her shedding Kira Ren’s sharp smiles and veiled threats to reveal something infinitely softer and more genuine, but now the concrete knowledge keeps him up at night while she sleeps in his arms.

And with it, a question: which one is the real her?

Ben keeps his mouth shut for two months, tells himself that he’s overthinking things and confronting Rey on this would just hurt her. It’s a good enough strategy, until she comes back from a week-long campaign one night with ancient chaos in her amber eyes and electrifying bloodlust humming in her veins.

“Rhelg,” she grins triumphantly before he even asks, and staggers into his arms. Her armor is made entirely of dragon scales, impenetrable by both weapons and spells, and it scrapes against his palms when he wraps his arms around her. “And Ziost, too.”

They’re significant wins, symbolic takings that will definitely expedite her reunification efforts, but Ben can’t focus on anything other than the smell of blood clinging to her and the shadow of death curled around her Force signature. With his chin resting on the crown of her head and his lips tingling from her static-charged hair, he asks, “Is this who you really are?”

Rey tenses in his arms, backs away to look up at him. “Ben?” she questions, her eyes wide and confused but still ringed with amber, the same amber that flashes in her eyes when she’s chasing her pleasure in wild abandon, when she guides him down to where she wants him with hands so tight around his head he thinks they might crush his skull, when she digs her nails into his shoulder until blood runs down his chest as she moves above him. After, she likes to press gentle kisses of wordless apology to his bloodied shoulders before she looks up at him, and every single time without fail he catches her licking a drop of his blood off her lips as the amber in her eyes recedes and returns her to him.

He thinks of the shiver that runs down his spine whenever that happens, and it gives him the strength to continue. “To me you’re Rey, you’ve been Rey since almost the start. But around Hux and on the battlefield and sometimes even with me, you become a completely different person. You become the person I met that first night, the one I thought for sure was going to kill me the second she tracked me down again.”

“So I’m asking you,” Ben pauses, takes a deep breath to steady himself even as his heart weakens at the sight of Rey’s trembling lower lip. “I’m asking you, which one is the real you? My Rey, or Kira Ren?”

His heart feels like it might stop when Rey extricates herself from his arms and hops up on his kitchen counter the way she did that first sunny afternoon. “I was twenty-eight,” she says quietly, after worrying her lip for a bit, “when Snoke first appeared to me.”

“He’d been in my head for much longer than that, of course,” Rey informs him with a slight huff, a bitter half-laugh. “Since I was a baby, practically. When my mother was born, Palpatine took one look at her and knew she’d never manifest. When I was born, my grandmother took one look at me and knew I’d be everything Palpatine could’ve ever wanted in a daughter. And I’ve never been able to figure out, in the century since, whether that darkness she felt was me or Snoke.”

Ben hesitates, decides to step closer in a show of support but doesn’t reach out to touch her. “But I thought your grandmother–”

“–died when I was still a baby, yes. But she left her diaries behind, and I guess even my desperate alcoholic parents knew better than to try and pawn off a witch’s memoirs. When my parents abandoned me, I knew nothing about my family. Everything I knew about myself, about the voices in my head and the strange things I could do, I learned from my grandmother’s diaries,” Rey admits quietly, as if that’s something to be ashamed about. Compared to him, compared to the legacy drilled into his head before he could even string a sentence together, he sees why she might feel that way.

“So when I finally snapped, when I claimed my first kill and triggered the curse, what Snoke found was a clueless, scared child instead of the formidable heir he’d been hoping to turn against Palpatine. He ran with it anyway – he was always such a desperate, grasping man –,” she mutters darkly, lips curling in disgust, “and presented me to his troops as the future Queen. And there was this weight – Snoke’s expectations of me, a thousand demons just staring at me – I just… I panicked. I took all the worst things I’d read about demons in my grandmother’s diaries, all the ugliest things people in Jakku whispered about Darksiders, and I turned all of it into Kira Ren, into the demon queen they wanted.”

Rey looks up at him, holds out a hand beseechingly, and he immediately reaches for her. “That’s what Kira Ren is,” she whispers, leans forward to rest her head against his chest with a shaky breath. “Rey… I never got a chance to know her, before. I was six when my parents disappeared, and something in me just knew that they were never coming back. My father never cared, not really, and in my grandmother’s diaries I’d read all about the voices in my mother’s head, the ones that overwhelmed her and drove her out of her mind because she didn’t have the power to temper them. My grandmother knew that her daughter wouldn’t survive for long, even with all of the alcohol in the world to drown out the voices. It doesn’t matter what happened to my father; even if my mother was the only one to die, he would never have come back for me anyway.”

There’s a muffled sniff against his shirt, and Ben’s free hand, the one not holding hers for dear life, immediately wraps around her waist and pulls her closer. Rey goes quiet after that, but he can feel the way his shirt grows damp with her tears, the way she shudders in his arms.

It feels like hours pass before she pulls away and wipes at her cheeks. “I became what I had to be in order to survive. There was no Rey, there was only the girl who scavenged and traded, the girl whose only friends were the voices in her head. After I killed Snoke and took the throne and met my knights, that changed a bit. But it wasn’t until I met you, Ben,” she drops her voice into an awed murmur, cradles his jaw in her hand like the most precious thing, “that I discovered who I really am, as Rey. Before this I didn’t know my favorite food, and I didn’t know the way I curl around someone in my sleep, and I didn’t know all the little things that make me happier than any victory ever could. Everything about Kira Ren I came up with, I chose. Everything about Rey I’ve discovered with you, as if she was living in me my whole life just waiting until it was safe for her to appear. And I think…” Rey falters, offers him a hesitant, hopeful little smile, “I think that makes her the real me.”

Ben has made many mistakes in his life. Asking Rey to define herself, to retread the painful path of her past in order to prove herself to him, has got to be the absolute worst one. “I think so too, sweetheart,” he whispers as he leans in to press their foreheads together, remorse weighing heavy on his heart and demanding amends. “No, I know so. I know the real you, and I love you more than words could ever say.”

The first time he told her he loved her was months ago, nearly a year now. In the time since he’s said it hundreds, if not thousands of times, but Rey looks at him now as if it’s the first time all over again and her eyes shine with adoration and joy.

“I love you too,” she smiles through tears, and brings him down for a kiss. It’s tender even as she grips his hair so hard he thinks she’ll rip chunks of it out, even as he pulls at her armor until his palms are covered in scratches from the scales. Rey laughs against his lips when he hisses in pain, pulls back and looks him in the eye as she waves her hand over the front of her suit to materialize a hidden zipper.

The armor, priceless and irreplaceable, slinks to the ground and remains forgotten in his kitchen until much, much later that night, when the sweat on their bodies has cooled and they’re finally capable of coherent thought again.

“I should store it,” Rey says half-heartedly after a good laugh over the realization of her priceless suit’s whereabouts. She makes no move to get out of bed though, and Ben deters her from doing so by curling an arm around her waist.

“So, Rhelg and Ziost,” he muses, and leans down to press a kiss to her temple. “Congratulations, my Queen.”

Rey peers up at him from where she’s using his shoulder as a pillow. “Empress, soon,” she reminds him with a pleased little smirk, and Ben tries to hide his trepidation at that but something – his eyes, probably, it’s always his damn eyes – must give him away, because Rey’s smirk flattens into a mildly displeased look.

“Beloved,” she sighs, props herself up with one hand braced on the mattress and her palm curved around her cheek. “I don’t know what more I can say about this to make you change your mind.”

“I don’t think you can,” Ben murmurs gently, reluctant to get into this again. It’s still the only real argument they ever have, the only thing they can never agree on. And it’s the one thing standing in the way of their life together. “It’s just… it’s an empire, Rey. And I love you, and I trust you, but every single Dark empire in history has turned out the same way.”

“But who says it has to be Dark?” Rey challenges him, pulls herself up so that she’s sitting cross-legged and staring down at him. “I told you, Ben: balance. And I know,” she adds before he can voice his skepticism once again, “I know I’m more Dark than Light, that I don’t have the capacity for goodness in me.”

“Rey, no–”

She shakes her head at him, smiles almost sadly. “It’s not in my blood, Ben – the same way that Darkness is. And that means that I can control the Dark, that I can keep it in check and make sure it doesn’t overwhelm the Light. That’s what I’m trying to do,” Rey admits for the very first time, and he barely even catches what she says next, too surprised by this revelation to process anything else. “That’s the best I can do.”

He surges up to match her position, to get a better look at her. “Why didn’t you– Rey, you never told me that that’s– if I had known–”

“Would it really have changed anything?” she asks plainly.

“Well, I thought you were reviving your grandfather’s empire to amass untold Dark power and you’re telling me you’re doing it to contain Darkness instead so yes, Rey, it changes everything!”

“Not everything, Ben,” Rey says softly, shakes her head again with that sad smile he’s starting to hate. It’s wrong on her, resignation on a woman who burns so brightly and fights so fiercely. “I’m still reunifying the empire. I’m still asking you to rule with me. I’m still asking you to become a demon with me, and I know, I know better than anyone else that that doesn’t necessarily mean turning Dark, but realistically…” she shrugs, and it’s like a jolt to his system, to hear the terms of their future laid out so clearly and bluntly.

They sound so simple, these things that she asks of him in return for a lifetime of love, and yet... “Rey,” he rasps, his chest tight with indecision and conflict. “Rey, I…”

Rey sighs and curls up by his side again, presses her ear to his heart as she’s taken to doing in the last few months. “Let’s just go to sleep, Ben.”

She wraps herself around him, one hand across his middle and her leg splayed across both of his, and nestles deeper into him.

It’s been a long day, a stressful day. That’s the only possible explanation for why the idea of giving in to her terms seems less daunting now than ever before. In the morning, it’ll feel impossible again and there’ll still be no end in sight to their situation.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

In the morning, it doesn’t feel impossible.

A week later, he starts considering the logistics of it all, of leaving behind his life and triggering the curse and ruling by Rey’s side. The curse weighs on him heaviest of all, having struggled against it all his life, and even the knowledge that Rey could probably direct him to some scum of the earth who would more than deserve to meet their end doesn’t make the idea of spilling blood any easier to stomach.

But a month later she starts struggling and kicking in bed, cries and begs not to be left alone until he finally manages to wake her, and as she shakes in his arms for the rest of the night Ben decides that there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that can stand between the two of them, that can stand in the way of his promise that she’ll never be alone again.

During a rare morning alone, Ben picks up a framed picture of his parents and runs his thumb over Han’s preserved memory. “I’m sorry,” he says, struggling to get the words past the lump in his throat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted for me, but you always believed me when I said there was another way. I think this is that way, Dad. I think… I think there could be balance, for once.”

Maybe Han would’ve sighed heavily, and maybe he would’ve grumbled under his breath for a bit, but at the end of the day Ben likes to believe that he would’ve reached out, placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and encouraged him to do something, anything to end this stupid war between his mother’s people. And Rey’s idea of preserving the Light from afar without meddling in it, of keeping the Dark prosperous without strengthening it? It might be just the thing.

His mother and his uncle won’t understand, might never understand. But as long as he can look at this picture of his father and feel at peace with the memory of Han’s dying wish, Ben is okay with that.

“Hey,” he says two days later, smiles when Rey looks up at him while milk drips from her spoonful of cereal. “We spend all of our time here, in my place.” It’s not just his place anymore, hasn’t been for a while now really, but still. “I was thinking maybe we should go to your home, today.”

Rey drops her spoon back into the bowl, and neither of them notice the way milk splatters over the rim and splashes everywhere. “Ben,” she breathes, her smile blinding. “Really? You’re ready to visit Korriban?”

It’s not so much a visit as it is a formality, a final inspection before he commits to a decision he’s already made. But he can’t let her know that just yet, just as he doesn’t let her know about the velvet drawstring pouch in the inner pocket of his jacket and the ring he intends to have on her finger by the end of the day.

“Yeah, I am,” Ben tells her, opens his arms just in time for her to barrel into him and shower kisses on every part of him that she can reach.

“Can we go now?” Rey asks, her eyes wide and bright with joy and anticipation. “There’s so much I want to show you, and I want you to meet my knights, and – oh, the garden, I really want you to see the garden–”

He laughs softly at her excitement, stands up with Rey still clinging to his neck. “Yes, sweetheart. We can go now.”

It’s been years, decades, since he last transported, and even then it was always his uncle casting the spell and him tagging along for the ride. It’s much the same this time, since Rey is the one who knows where they’re going, but with her all of the intense preparations and careful circles are replaced by simply taking her hand, closing his eyes, and trusting her.

Between one breath and the next Rey steps between worlds and guides him to her home, and when he opens his eyes they’re in the middle of a garden that could only be hers. Flowers bloom everywhere in a wild riot of life and thick green vines crawl over crumbling structures, beautiful and wild and the closest visual representation anyone will ever get to Rey’s chaotic, blinding, pulsing Force signature. She’s changed clothes too, in that blink of an eye between realms, traded his shirt for the black leather look she's always in when she comes home from holding court, but for once his eyes aren’t drawn to her.

“Rey, this is…”

She smiles, laces their fingers together and leads him down a path marked by nothing but telltale trampled grass. “Part of my grandmother’s healer abilities was the power to coax any flower or herb she needed to life. Sometimes,” Rey says quietly as she runs her fingers through a wine-red flower with petals like velvet, “I wonder if maybe I would have been a nature witch, had that path been available to me.”

Sometimes Ben wonders too, tries to imagine what Rey’s life would’ve been like if she hadn’t been claimed by her grandfather’s blood the second she was born. Would they have met, if she’d grown up to become a witch instead? Would she still have the Force, without Palpatine’s blood in her veins? Would they have been married by now, if they were both just practitioners with no moral conundrums standing in their way?

Would he trade everything they’ve shared in the past two years for even the tiniest shot at that life instead?

“I grew up in a barren wasteland instead,” Rey continues, “where the last of the trees succumbed to heat long before I was born and even attempts to grow crabgrass failed. So the minute I found out that all of this was mine,” she sweeps her arm in a wide arc, encompasses as far as the eye can see, “I knew immediately what I wanted to do with this land.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ben assures her, letting his free hand drag past flowers and leaves and little bushes heavy with berries.

Rey’s lips twitch with a little self-conscious smile. “Unusual for a demon queen, I know,” she says almost sheepishly before she comes to an abrupt halt and looks up at him. “But I wanted to show you that there’s life here, Ben. I could give you life and love and light here, even in the most unexpected places, if you–”

“Your Majesty!” a voice hollers in the distance. “Majesty!” it cries again, grows closer until both Ben and Rey turn around to find a lower-ranking demon sprinting across the garden to reach them.

“What?!” Rey growls as the demon reaches them, and Ben can’t tell if he shrinks back because of the ice in Rey’s voice or the heat in her glare.

“F-f-forgive me, M-Majesty,” the newcomer stammers, keeping a safe distance between himself and his Queen. “But you asked to be informed when your knights return–”

Rey blinks. “Oh,” she murmurs. “I did, didn’t I?” She turns to Ben then, waves at the demon. “Beloved, this is my assistant, Mitaka.”

Mitaka falls into a bow so deep and abrupt that Ben nearly winces for his bones. “My lord.”

“Um,” Ben turns to Rey with a helpless little look, clears his throat and awkwardly waves the man up. “Uh, you don’t have to do that.”

The little demon looks scandalized, shocked into such a catatonic state that he doesn’t even react when Rey takes Ben’s hand and tugs him a few feet away. “I’m so sorry,” she tells him with an apologetic little smile. “This is pretty urgent. Do you mind?”

Ben smiles, angles himself so that Mitaka can’t see him tucking a lock of hair behind Rey’s ear. “Sweetheart, you’re the Queen here,” he reminds her. “Go do what you have to do.”

“I’ll try to be quick,” Rey promises and, apparently not sharing his qualms about her subjects seeing her in an affectionate relationship, tugs him down by his collar to kiss him. It’s rougher than usual, admittedly, and to an outsider he probably looks completely lost to her will as she pulls on his hair to adjust the angle to her liking. When she breaks away and licks her lips with a smirk, Ben’s almost reminded of that first night when she stole a drop of his blood. “In the meantime,” Rey raises her voice so that it carries to her assistant, “Mitaka will show you around.”

“Oh,” Ben turns to the other demon. “That’s not necessar–”

“It would be an honor, my lord,” Mitaka says, dropping quickly into another bow. Ben turns to look at Rey, clueless and uncomfortable.

“Might as well get used to it, just in case,” she shrugs, a satisfied little gleam in her eyes. “Osado should be around the East Wing. Maybe you could meet him?” her voice is a little tentative, a little hopeful, and Ben knows how much it’ll mean to her for him to meet one of her knights.

“Sure,” he nods with an easy smile. “That’d be nice.”

Rey beams at him and it’s so at odds with their surroundings, with the persona he was expecting from her in her realm, that it sets him completely at ease. Whatever fears he’d harbored about Rey, about her and their relationship changing once they’re here, seem so ridiculous now. He’s struck by the impulse to ask her right now, but Osado Ren is something of an older brother to her, based on her stories, and Ben figures in lieu of any father figures he should at least make his intentions known to the knight, scope out his reaction to both the engagement and Ben’s eventual ascension.

Still, he can’t help but wince a bit at the way she barks orders at Mitaka as the lower demon flinches and stammers his way through the interaction. But Rey had warned him, hadn’t she? Hierarchy is everything in the Underworld, and the pecking order must always be painfully clear.

“I’ll see you soon, beloved,” Rey smiles as she slinks past him, her exchange with Mitaka apparently done. In this, in the way she carries herself around her subjects, she’s more Kira Ren than Rey. But as Ben watches the sauntering gait of her retreating form, head held proudly high and shoulders deceptively loose, he finds that he’s not too bothered by that.

“M-my lord,” Mitaka stammers behind him, and when Ben turns he indicates the opposite direction. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ben shrugs and allows himself to be led away. He considers Mitaka for a bit, wonders if now would be a good time to try and get some information, but the poor demon looks jumpy as all hell. Besides, it feels dishonest, to ask around about Rey and her reign behind her back when he’s already decided that he loves and accepts her no matter what.

So they walk in silence, save for Mitaka’s occasional attempts to play tour guide by pointing out noteworthy structures and figures in their path. What feels like minutes but also hours later finds them climbing up the front steps of a looming structure that bears a passing resemblance to the old mansions that house his mother’s Light Council, the only major differences being the color of the façade and the figures carved into the black marble pillars.

Mitaka waves the front doors open with a sweeping gesture and presents the building to him. “The East Wing,” he announces. “Home to Her Majesty’s collections.”

Ben grins to himself. Of course Rey would arrange for him to be brought to her museum-slash-library. “She knows me too well,” he murmurs under his breath as Mitaka crosses to the far end of the hall littered with relics in order to light a fire. The flames crawl rapidly through a network of glass tubes suspended from the ceiling, and soon the whole hall is lit by firelight.

“Sir Ren shall join you momentarily,” Mitaka says, and after another painfully deep bow he closes the doors behind Ben and leaves him to his own devices. Ben takes the opportunity to explore the area, all curved onyx stands and dome-shaped glass cases. A closer inspection finds gold plaques attached to each stand and varying forms of documents contained within the glass cases, but none of the descriptions or parchments are written in any language he’s ever seen.

He’s just stumbled upon the presumable crown jewel of the collection – housed in the center of the hall, on a stand taller and larger than any other, with a description that appears to writhe on its plaque – when the great doors swing open once more.

“Ben!” Osado Ren greets him jovially, instantly recognizable from Rey’s descriptions and the black leather armor he wears, Rey’s sigil burned into the breastplate. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

Osado clamps his hands on either side of Ben’s arms, even though he has to stretch quite a bit to do so, and this close Ben can see the lines on his face that speak of the challenging human existence he’d suffered through before the loss of his love and the senselessness of her death had led him to invoke Rey and bargain with her. “Oh,” Ben mumbles as Osado releases him and takes a step back. “Re– Kira told you my name.” It’s an odd thing to be worried about, after a lifetime of everyone knowing his name, but he figures it’s more or less time to start.

“She’s Rey to us,” the knight assures him. “And you have nothing to worry about – we’re all family here, after all.”

“Family?” Ben echoes curiously. He’s heard Rey apply the term to her knights, and has no doubt that they feel the same way about her, but him?

“Well, Rey extended her home, her care, and her name to us when we had nothing, so yes,” Osado shrugs. “And you’re family to her, which makes us family as well. But,” he pauses, offers Ben a genuine smile, “if it makes you feel better, my real name is Poe. Poe Dameron. There, now we’re even.”

“Um, sure… Poe,” he says hesitantly, but the ever-present smile on the knight’s face remains firmly in place despite the use of his first name. Poe it is, then.

“So, what do we have here?” the knight asks, stepping around him to look at the piece he was studying. As if the plaque itself weren’t unusual enough, the document appears to be carved on a slab of marble rather than written on parchment or vellum like the rest of the collection, and the letters have been filled in with gold to match the veins in the marble. Ben can’t deny that he’s curious, and Poe seems prepared to take on the role of curator.

“Oh, it’s the prophecy! Figures that you’d be drawn to it,” he tells Ben with a knowing smile that makes no sense whatsoever.

“Right, the prophecy,” Ben nods, steps closer. “But what does this say, exactly? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this writing.” A novelty for him, considering all the dead languages his uncle had him study during his earliest years as a mage.

Poe shrugs. “Well, it’s ancient. Only a few of us still know how to read it, and it’s not exactly a skill you can learn,” he explains. “You can only decipher it with Rey’s blessing – which, of course, you’ll get as soon as you two finally make things official.”

The ring in his pocket feels like it weighs a ton. Maybe now would be a good time to talk to Poe about it; he’s not going to ask for permission – Rey is the Queen, after all – but it’d be reassuring to know that the closest thing she has to family is all right with him joining them.

Before he can say anything though, Poe points at the plaque; Ben swears he hears a faint hissing sound when the knight’s hand gets a little too close, and for a second there the writhing turns into the kind of shaking he associates with a provoked snake. Poe chuckles to himself, moves his hand a safe distance away, and the words go back to their endless cycle, almost like an Ouroboros trapped in the form of letters.

“The Eternal Reign of Kira and Kylo Ren,” Poe announces grandly, and playfully elbows Ben as he stage-whispers, “That’s you!”

“Right,” Ben feels more than hears himself murmur, a faint ringing taking up residence in his ears as Poe goes on to describe the contents of the prophecy itself.

“Previous reigns have never lasted longer than five hundred years – the Dark has a habit of consuming itself, self-imploding, plus there’s no shortage of backstabbing and coups, of course,” Poe explains. “But from the very beginning the prophecy has spoken of a couple, both of royal Dark blood in their own rights, neither born in the Dark but both born to the Dark. Sound familiar?”

“Um, yeah,” he forces himself to say, just so that Poe will keep going.

“Apart the two of them are already more powerful than any previous Dark monarch, but together they will be unrivaled in all the universe, their rule secured for millennia to come. You know,” Poe turns back to him, having apparently summarized the whole prophecy to his satisfaction, “for the longest time everyone believed this prophecy was bullshit. It’s been here since almost the beginning, and no one had ever come close to fulfilling it. Even when Rey took the throne and was anointed Kira Ren, no one thought she’d find her Kylo – no one except Rey, anyway. She just knew you were out there, said she could feel it the day you were born and has been waiting every day since.”

I knew Vader had a grandson, but I never bothered looking into it. 

I never saw you coming, Ben Solo. You’re the best surprise that’s ever happened to me.

In a way, we have that tourist killer of yours to thank. Who knows if our paths would ever have crossed otherwise?

The day you were born, Poe says, and Ben thinks he’s going to be sick.

“Hey,” Poe frowns, concern lining his face as he takes in Ben’s blank stare. “Are you okay?”

“I–” the words can barely come out, not with his throat so tight that no air can get it. “I–” Ben tries again, doubles over and closes his eyes, takes deep breaths and counts to ten. “I need to see her. Now.”

Poe looks worried, but there’s no hint of wariness, of realization that he’s just given away his Queen’s master fucking plan. “Yeah, sure. She and the others should be wrapping up soon, anyway. Let’s get you back to your girlfriend, huh?”

It turns out that Mitaka took him on the scenic route; Poe ushers him out through a backdoor and has them in the main structure of the castle grounds within minutes. As soon as the throne room is in sight, Ben speeds up and leaves a puzzled Poe calling out behind him.

“Who–” Rey demands before she sees who it is that’s burst into her throne room without announcement or permission. “Oh,” she smiles, gets up from her throne to walk past her two knights and over to him.

The knights - Ẹsan the boy she rescued the night he killed the warlord who enslaved him and Tiếc the girl who lost a sister when Poe lost a wife – turn to him just in time to hear him say, “Out.”

“Beloved,” Rey frowns, “what–”

“Get out,” Ben commands, and the knights scramble to leave after a quick nod from their Queen. The doors behind them slam shut with a blast of power, the kind of outburst he’s managed to keep in check for decades.

Rey reaches for his hand, eyes wide with concern. “Ben–”

“You lied to me!” he growls, and she staggers back. “You promised me you weren’t just another demon who’d been keeping tabs on me since I was born, you swore you weren’t using me for my powers!”

“Oh,” Rey murmurs to herself, stumbles backwards until she collapses into her throne. “Oh.”

“The night we met – did you plan that?” Ben demands as he advances on her. “Fuck, did you plan all of this? Was it just a game to you all along, Kira Ren? All the others failed, so you decided you’d try good old seduction instead and turn me Dark by breaking my heart, is that it?”

“Ben, no–” she claims, rises from her throne to place a hand over his heart. “None of this was planned, none of it needed to be planned. We were always going to find each other, eventually. We’re fated, Ben, don’t you feel it–”

“Fated for what, Rey?” he spits, pushing her hand aside. “For an eternity of you ruling with me as your attack dog? All those times you brought up how much easier it’d be with me by your side – you never meant as a team. You were talking about my bloodline, about my powers. Fuck, to think that I almost gave in to you–” he curses, stunned by his own blindness after a lifetime of vigilance.

Rey stills, looks up at him with those shiny eyes and trembling lips she wears so well. “You… you what?”

He pulls the pouch from his pocket, tosses it at her with a little too much force. No point in keeping it, anyway, not when he’ll never find a use for it again. Let her have this, then, if she’s so keen on having a piece of Darth Vader’s fucking legacy.

“Ben,” Rey gasps when she fishes the ring out of the velvet bag, holds in her palms the symbol of love his grandfather presented to his grandmother when he promised them a future of light.

“This was never supposed to be just a visit,” he admits, taking a sick sort of pleasure in twisting the knife, in rubbing in just how close she’d gotten to deceiving him. “I was going to ask you to marry me today. Stars, I was going to kill someone for you– fucking idiot,” Ben growls to himself, pulls viciously at his hair while he paces the length of the dais. “Balance? What a load of bullshit, as if the demon queen could ever–”

From her spot where she’s crumbled to the ground, sitting on the stairs leading to her throne, Rey chokes on a sob. “Ben, please, I meant it, I meant all of it–”

“Because you’re the picture of honesty,” Ben scoffs with barely a glance in her direction. “Were you ever going to tell me, Rey? Would you have gone cold the second I tied myself to you and your mission was accomplished? Or, no, wait,” he hates how cruel he sounds, hates how his lips twist into a sneer when he finally turns back to her, hates the fact that he’s hurting her even though she’s cut him deeper than anyone ever could, “you would’ve kept it going a little while longer, wouldn’t you, until we had that big family you’re always talking about. A whole army of the most powerful demons to ever exist, you wouldn’t even need me after that–”

“Don’t!” Rey snaps, pulls herself up and dries off her tears. “Think what you want, Ben, but don’t ever imply that I would’ve used our children–”

“–the way you tried to use me?”

“Fine, yes!” she cries, and it’s almost a relief to have confirmation, to know for sure. Now he can walk away with no what-ifs, no regrets–

“Yes, damn it, I wanted you for the prophecy, but not the way you’re twisting it!” Rey claims, a little scream of frustration lodged in her throat. “I’d been alone all my life, Ben, and here was a prophecy telling me that my perfect mate was somewhere out there, that once I found him I’d never be alone again, never be in danger again – whatever twisted idea you have of me using you, it was never going to be like that.”

He wants, so desperately– “How can I believe you, Rey? How can I ever trust you again?”

This time, when she reaches for him he lets her. “I could swear on my grandfather’s grave,” Rey whispers. “I could swear on my throne, on my life. But we both know these things don’t mean anything to me.”

“How convenient,” he mutters, but doesn’t shake her hand off his.

“But if you trust me, Ben, if you give me another chance – I will swear on our love, on our children, on the only things that matter to me,” she says fervently, digs her nails into his arm, “that you will never regret it.”

Ben scoffs. “That’s a bit of a gamble, isn’t it? What love, Rey? What love, Kira?”

Her nails break his skin. “Stop calling me–”

“It’s who you are, isn’t it?” he confronts her, that old fear that never quite let go of him bursting to the surface, sustained all the months by the amber flashes of her eyes and her callous treatment of others. Idiot, idiot, idiot, what an idiot all along to believe that he was the only one, that he was special enough to change her– “Whoever it is I deluded myself into seeing… she never existed, did she? It was you all along, tricking me, manipulating me, playing me like a goddamn fiddle and I fell for it all like the lovesick fool that I was–”

“Don’t,” Rey whispers, a fresh wave of tears shining in her eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t say was as if you don’t love me anymore.”

And fuck it all but he does, she almost tricked him into an eternity of Darkness but it still hurts to see her this way, still kills him to know that he’s the one making her cry– “I love Rey,” Ben croaks in an attempt to cling to reason. “I love the woman I’ve spent the past two years with. If she never existed then–”

“She did, she does,” Rey insists as she hooks one leg around his ankle and knocks him off his feet, tackles him to the ground and softens the blow with her hands around the back of his head. “I love you. I’m her and I’m here and I love you, Ben please–”

“Please,” she whispers, brings her hands to cradle his face, her thumbs caressing his jaw the way she does when she’s trying to wake him gently in the morning, the way she does when they’re curled up together in front of the TV and her fondness for him overflows. “Please, Ben, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone.”

He closes his eyes, lets his head fall against the harsh marble floor as she invokes his oath.

“You promised, Ben,” Rey says quietly, her voice small like a child’s, like the lonely child she’s been all her life, the one that calls to his soul the way every other part of her matches every other part of him. So different, so alike, perfect mates the prophecy calls them.

The prophecy he knew nothing about, the prophecy that’s a hundred times worse than the destiny he’s been trying to outrun all his life, and where did that get him? All that running, a lifetime of it, and here he is anyway, his soul in the balance, his heart in Rey’s hands–

Would it be so bad? If she’s trying so hard to keep him now, if she tries this hard for the rest of their lives… would it be so bad even if this is a lie?

No worse than the alternative, than walking away from her today and spending the rest of his life wondering about the truth, looking over his shoulder, dreading the day his fate catches up with him… that’s not a life. Not the life his father would have wanted for him, not the life he wants for himself.

Ben takes a deep breath, pictures the life he’s been dreaming of since the day the devil appeared in his kitchen, and comes to a decision.

“I promised,” he concedes, opens his eyes and lets his hands rest on her waist. “I promise. You’ll never be alone again.”

This morning he was willing to fall to the Dark side for her love.

Everything, and yet nothing, has changed since then.

Rey smiles at him, and he ignores the flash of amber in her watery eyes as she leans down to kiss him. “You won’t regret this,” she murmurs against his lips. “I swear, Ben, on our happiness, I won’t let you regret this. We’ll be so good together, you’ll see, no one will ever stand in our way, no one will ever tear us apart–”

Because no one will ever be capable of it, but he kisses her again before she can remind him of that, of the fate he’s giving in to. Rey leans back, rests against his bent knees and produces something with a twist of her wrist.

The ring, he realizes as she hands it to him almost shyly. She must’ve hidden it away for safekeeping.

He had a speech planned, this morning. All of the sacrifices he’s willing to make for her, all of the love that overwhelms him each and every second.

Now… now there’s nothing left to say. Ben takes her hand, notes that they’re both shaking and tricks himself into letting that make him feel better, into letting that make him believe her.

The ring is a perfect fit, just like he always knew it would be.

Rey leans down, kisses him with a smile on her lips and warm tears that burn his cheeks. “My turn,” she whispers an eternity later, pulls him up with her and leads him to the throne where her sigil is carved into the gleaming onyx.

“This is my throne, my empire, my power,” she intones, still holding his hand, still smiling. “And all this I choose to share with you, will share with you for as long as we both live.”

She takes his hand, presses his palm to her sigil. The carved lines of the rune turn red, and his palm tingles but does not burn. Rey holds his hand in place, waits for a sign only she knows.

When the red glow disappears, she pulls his hand away and turns his palm to him so that they can see the mark he will carry for eternity slowly sink under his skin.

“It’s different,” Ben realizes with a start, looks up at the throne once the sigil on his palm disappears and finds that it’s changed too, grown more complex somehow, more complete.

“It’s ours now,” Rey tells him, uses his hand to trace out a mark he recognizes from before. “Kira,” she reads, and then traces the newer lines, “and Kylo Ren.”

She lets go of his hand to step behind him, wraps her arms around his waist and presses her lips to the back of his neck. “My consort. My emperor. My Kylo,” she whispers, her voice warm with affection but dark with triumph.

And Ben, newly engaged and crowned–

–Ben stares at the sigil, their sigil, and doesn’t let himself turn back to see what color her eyes are.

Not my usual ‘and they lived 100% happily ever after’ ending, but this was never meant to be my usual kind of story. This chapter - this whole fic, really - hinged on the big reveal. I hope I managed to pull that off.

When I first came up with this idea months ago, it was meant to be a tiny one-shot posted alongside all the rituals between you and me as a pair of parallel fics. Obviously that didn't pan out, and I ended up spending months adding bits and pieces to my original outline without knowing if this fic would ever see the light of day.

Now it's done and it's out there in the world, and I can only hope even a fraction of the people reading this have enjoyed this odd little tale as much as I enjoyed bringing it to life. (And psst, if you did: stay tuned for a slightly risqué - by my standards, anyway - bonus scene/epilogue coming soon!)

As always, thank you so, so much for reading. If you enjoyed this fic and/or have any thoughts/comments/questions, please don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment.

[dxmichelle]

Ask Meme turned Headcanon Post.

So I got inspired by that ask meme I reblogged the other day, and rather than wait for nobody someone to send one in, I’ll just Nerdship most of the meme and call it a headcanon post. 

Although tumblr didn’t want to save my initial finished draft, so I copped out on redoing some of the answers. Oh well. Cross your fingers that the post didn’t “de-format” because I’m not editing this monstrosity again.

Here goes the longest post ever. Under the cut because I’m not gonna make anyone scroll through a mile-long post to get to the rest of their dash. 

- How do they fall asleep? Wake up? Any daily rituals? 

Hermione usually has to drag Seto from his office to go to bed on time. Sometimes she’ll cuddle up against him, but that’s mostly it. Seto is a light sleeper and doesn’t get enough rest as it is, so unless they were cuddling or something before they nodded off, she won’t in the middle of the night in fear it’ll wake him up.  

Waking up though is a different story. If it’s the weekend and he technically doesn’t have to go into work, she’ll try to keep him in bed until a reasonable hour. He gets up ridiculously early no matter what day it is, and it’s usually before she’s even awake. She’ll wake up to find his side of the bed already empty (and made up no less), and he’s already downstairs, dressed, and consumed two cups of coffee.

- How’s their team work? Do they share well? They definitely share Kaiba Corp sweaters. And by share, she hoards them and claims them as her own. 

- Are they open about their relationship? How do they feel about public displays of affection? They were incredibly private about it at first. Seto could care less what others thought of him, but Hermione worried how her friends (especially Ron) would react to them being together. Thankfully, by the time they came clean to everyone important about it, enough time had passed that Ron had gotten over his jealousy (no thanks to Ginny literally knocking sense over his head). Other than friends and family though, they keep PDA minimal. It didn’t stop the media from catching wind of it and going nuts though.

- First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight? Definitely not love at first sight. 

Hermione had of course read articles about him before they met, but she didn’t hang on his every word and movement like the Krum fangirls during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She found him fairly cold and distant in comparison to Yugi and Ryou, who were also staying at the Burrow at the time. She was more so impressed by his interest in absorbing the textbooks than just hanging around teaching Harry and Ron the basics of Duel Monsters.

Seto didn’t think much of Hermione or her friends at first, though he was recovering from a combination of jet-lag and an attack on his mind at the same time. When he was much more cognizant, he thought them (Harry mostly) were rather nosy into his business. He also couldn’t wrap around why someone as level-headed as Hermione chose to stick around with them since at times they acted as polar opposites. In time, he appreciated the fact that she didn’t fawn over him like a lovesick puppy, was merely trying to help, and didn’t put up with any of his nonsense. 

- Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes? Definitely not. Seto hates them.

- Any tasks that are always left to one person? Not really. 

- What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could? She can’t stand that he puts his work before his health. He’s slowly getting better, but it’s a work in progress. He can’t stand that every time she gets on his case because he’s a workaholic, she’s in the right for worrying about him. And he hates losing.

- What do the like best about their partner? He loves that she’s not afraid to call him out on his BS - usually only Mokuba and Roland are brave enough to do that. She loves all of the subtle little things he does, because while he’s coming a long way in keeping any sort of relationship, being an open romantic is not one of them. 

- Do they discuss big issues? Religion? Marriage? Children? Death?

They’ve discussed marriage before, and some of the technicalities that come with it - like would they settle in one country or bounce from place to place as their jobs demand it. 

Seto is practically an atheist so they really don’t practice any religion. 

They’ve only just gotten engaged, so they really haven’t discussed children at all. After his terrible experiences with his father-figures, he worries about fatherhood, but he knows Hermione would probably want kids someday. 

And after fighting in the war, Hermione is still shaken a bit by losing so many friends and refuses to talk about death. 

- Who drives? Cooks? Does the handiwork? Cleans? Pays the bills? Handles the public? 

Neither of them drive, though Seto has a driver’s license. Seto has his driver, and Hermione either takes a cab or apparates if she’s at home in the UK, depending if she’s around Muggles or not. 

When they’re alone, both of them cook. It’s a secret to most people that Seto does in fact know how to prepare food, he normally just doesn’t have the time for it. Hermione does it more often than he does though. 

Depending on work that needs done, Seto takes care of it, or hires someone to get the work done. 

They pay their own bills (something else Seto loves about her - she’s not using him for his money). 

They both are pretty busy with their work. There’s a cleaning lady that tends to the Kaiba Mansion, and Hermione uses magic to clean her home.

The Wizards don’t pay too much attention to them. Muggle press on the other hand is another story. Seto handles all of their public matters, and it’s considered a bonus if he has to threaten a few tabloids in the process. 

- Do they celebrate holidays? Anniversaries? 

The Kaibas didn’t really celebrate a whole lot of holidays beforehand, but Hermione enjoys Christmas (and so does Mokuba), so there’s that. Birthdays too, although Seto prefers to pretend his doesn’t exist. Seto and Hermione also do something for their relationship anniversary, which is transitioning into their engagement anniversary.

They also meet up with Yugi on the anniversary of the Pharaoh and Set’s passing back into the Afterlife. They make the journey each year to Egypt and pay a visit to the Tablet of the Pharaoh’s Memories.

Every May, they return to Scotland for the remembrance of the Battle of Hogwarts. The Weasleys insist they stay with them, and it’s essentially a week of catching up and paying respects to all of their lost friends and family. 

- Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon? 

To be fair, everything about their wedding is going to be part of a separate headcanon post, so...skip!

- What do they do for fun? Do they have a favorite activity or do they like to switch things up? Ironically, one of their favorite things to do for fun is pick up the tabloids that are written about them and laugh at how wrong they are. It’s a running joke to see how many times they write about their relationship being in trouble because Seto is caught unsmiling in a photograph. 

- Anything they both dread? Public engagements. 

- How adventurous are they? Honestly? Not very. They’re both barely 21 years old and have had enough shenanigans happen in their lives to last two lifetimes. A little quiet in their lives is definitely welcome.

- Do they keep secrets? Lie? Cheat? Cheat? Never. Hermione is much more open and forward than Seto, but he doesn’t lie. He just withholds information, moreso because it’s something personal and private and he’s not used to being upfront about his emotions, even to her. Again, their relationship is a work of progression for him. 

- What are their dates like? How long do/did they date? Do they ever feel the need to take a break from each other? 

He usually plans dates of interest to her. Sometimes they’ll have dinner out somewhere, or do something simple like visiting a museum or that new bookstore down the street. He just enjoys seeing her happy. Other times they’ll just stay in, cuddle on the couch and get absorbed in a book. Sometimes she’ll read to him. 

They weren’t sure exactly when they became a couple because the lines blurred somewhere during the Wizarding War, but it had been at least for a year since then. 

Breaks weren’t all that difficult since she was working for the British Ministry of Magic and he returned to Japan. He built her a cell phone so they could keep in touch, and they visited each other as often as work would allow.

- What do they fight about? What are their arguments like? How do they make up? A lot of their arguments are about him not taking care of himself. Or how he’s constantly under the worry that something terrible will happen to her that he was unable to prevent, stemming from Mokuba’s kidnappings during Duelist Kingdom and Battle City. She has to constantly remind him that she’s no fragile princess and can take care of herself. The most explosive they ever got turned into a wand fight in his home office and after she finished kicking his ass, he admitted he was wrong, and that was enough for her.  

- What does their home look like? Their room? Neither of them hoard a ton of stuff. 

Hermione’s apartment(s) - one in the UK, one in Japan -  are a blend of magical and conventional Muggle decoration. She has photographs of her family and friends on the walls and mementos of her Hogwarts days scattered around. One room in each is full of nothing but books.

For the most part, Seto stays in the Kaiba Mansion. Most of the decoration around are pictures of Mokuba and his achievements growing up (Seto hates having his picture taken). He does have their engagement photograph on the desk in both his home and work office, next to Mokuba’s current school photo.

They’re both neat freaks, so the bedroom(s) are clean. Seto usually doesn’t sleep unless the room is pure dark, so when he stays in the UK (at least in the early days of their relationship), he tends to be in a hotel with blackout curtains because Hermione actually likes light in her room, but she’ll concede to how he keeps his space when she stays at the mansion. Seto offered her a guest room (one that actually welcomes natural sunlight), but she prefers to stay in his. 

- Do they share any interests or hobbies? Not a whole lot. Hermione has her books, and Seto has Duel Monsters, though he doesn’t play nearly as much as he used to. Occasionally, she’ll find him in his card room just looking through stacks of cards. 

- Does their work ever interfere with the relationship? Other than Seto not knowing when to stop? Not really. They both know that their jobs are important to each other, and respect and support each other’s chosen line of work.

- How much time do they spend together? Do they share their feelings, or hold things in? 

When they’re not working, they don’t cling to each other 24/7. They each respect that they have lives to live, and most of the time in the early days, they were continents apart. Then, when they were both in town together, they were together quite a bit. 

Hermione is a master of knowing when Seto is keeping something bottled up. Tension radiates off him in waves. She’s one of the few people that can get him to vent out his frustration without feeling the need to flee the scene right afterwards. 

- How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families? 

Ron came to the conclusion during the War that his continued jealousy over Hermione’s choice in friendships had cost him. That wasn’t to say Hermione didn’t play the same jealousy game with him at school, but she was the one who got over it first and moved on. Was he still a little upset that she chose someone of fame and reputation over him? Sure. But he also acknowledged that she had waited for him to essentially man up for a very long time, and he hadn’t. It took a great deal of reflection, but after he admitted to Hermione that he was glad she found someone that genuinely made her happy, their friendship improved tenfold. 

Harry was surprised, knowing that she had been crushing on Ron for the greater portion of their time at Hogwarts. At the same time though, he was very supportive of her, knowing what certain events on the Horcrux Hunt had done to her, and caused both she and Seto to get closer to each other. He felt better once Ron confided in him how okay he was with it. 

Ginny was all for it. She had to practically beat her mother over the head with sense in the beginning though, because she knew Ron had feelings for her, and this was like the Rita Skeeter love triangle article between Harry, Hermione, and Krum all over again. 

Yugi was there to witness their relationship progress, but his friends weren’t, and they still couldn’t believe that of all people, Seto managed to get involved in a romantic relationship before any of them.  

Mokuba is all for it. He witnessed her genuinely caring for Seto during [REDACTED PLOT SPOILERS]. Not even Yugi or his friends showed that much concern when they were stuck in the middle of a magical crisis. He didn’t care that they weren’t even in a relationship at that time, but he immediately unofficially added her to the family. Having her officially added to the family was an added bonus.

- What are their vacations like? Taking a break from work? Blasphemy! 

Seto hasn’t taken vacations, ever! So it’s usually wherever Hermione wants to go. They usually go either to places neither have been to, or some secluded space where it’s literally just them. 

Phones are either left behind, or off the majority of the time. If anyone from KC that wasn’t Roland tried to get in contact while they were away together, and it was over something petty, they were put on thin ice, and fast. Seto would have just straight up fired them, but Hermione manages a good portion of his impulse control.

Since she knows he lets her pick what they do, she tries to plan a trip that will get him to unwind as much as possible. No rushing, just relaxation. Their first vacation following their engagement announcement was to tour Norway and see the Northern Lights.  

- How do the handle disasters or emergencies? Minor injuries? Sickness? With everything that’s happened to them? Assuming they aren’t in public, Hermione could probably magically deal with minor injuries, and after all of the kidnappings and attempted murder in his life, Seto is fairly-well equipped to handle disasters. But sickness? That’s a whole different game. Hermione is level-headed enough to know when to stay home and rest if she’s ill. After all, there isn’t always a potion handy to get rid of her cold. Seto? He’ll ignore it, go to work and overexert himself until he passes out at his desk. Both Hermione and Mokuba have to gang up on him and force him to stay in bed.

- Could they manage a long distance relationship? They already do!  

- What kind of presents do they get each other? Do they only do it on special occasions? Usually only for birthdays or Christmas, and most of the time it’s something small and meaningful for the both of them. 

- Do they have any pets? Crookshanks stayed at the Burrow during their run around the countryside, and then stayed at home with Hermione’s parents following the War. She takes him with her whenever she travels to and from Japan. Seto initially wasn’t keen on having a cat in the mansion, but Mokuba took a huge liking to him, and that was it. Despite all of the cat furniture that Hermione immediately bought for him in the mansion, Crookshanks always chose to sleep in Mokuba’s room, to the younger Kaiba’s immediate delight.

- How much would they be willing to sacrifice for the other? Any lines they refuse to cross? With Hermione being added into the Kaiba family, if she were in serious trouble, he would burn the world for her. If the roles were reversed? Hermione would gather her friends and any newfound Muggle resources and do the same, only it would probably end up a bit more discreet. 

- What are they like in the bedroom? Any kinks/fetishes/turn-ons? Anything they won’t do? Physical intimacy is something Seto’s still uncomfortable with. Hermione’s not rushing him, so while they do sleep together, it doesn’t go any further than cuddles. 

- Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love? Hermione definitely started it. Seto was legit stunned while his brain processed what had happened. No one had ever shown him any amount of true care or concern before that wasn’t Mokuba, so this was something unfamiliar that needed figured out. 

- Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to? During one of his visits to the UK, they toured Tresco Island. It was so peaceful and relaxing there that they went back to the gardens there for their engagement photos.  

- Are they party-goers? What are they like when they’re drunk? Does it happen often? Nope, and they don’t really drink either.

- Do they talk often? What about? He built her a custom phone so they could keep in better contact when they were apart. They’d call each other every few days and talk about anything and everything going on, from the progress on the new duel disks to how reforming the new Ministry of Magic was going. 

- Are the comfortable with each other? Anything they have to have their privacy for? Seto’s physical and mental scars are still a touchy subject. In the beginning, he wouldn’t dress in front of her in fear she’d see and then ask about them.

- Any special dreams or goals they have as a couple? Any heartbreaks? Regrets? Overall? Within their own lines of work, they’re trying to make lives better for all, whether they be house elves or other minority species living in wizarding society, or improving the lives of orphans and underprivileged kids.  

[kingofhoole]

Warriors and GOG?

I grew up reading Warriors first and then GOG and don’t get me wrong, they’re both great series but damn does GOG do a lot of things better. Imo, the concept of Warriors and clan structure is one of the best parts, but the plots keep getting reused and reused... so I decided to make a post about the differences between the series ;0 

Some minor spoilers(?) ahead! (I’m only going up to a little after the Journey, where they reach the tree!)

Strong female characters?

Warriors has... a few? Maybe? But they always get absolutely nerfed at the end of their arc and left up to the fans to fix in AUs and such. Also, Warriors has a bad habit of killing off their female cats...

Guardians of Ga’hoole doesn’t really have any weak female leads that I can think of. Gylfie is brave beyond comparison and while I can’t say more about her in the books without spoiling something, she is definitely one of my favorites. Otulissa is a character that Soren really doesn’t like at first; she’s snarky and a “know-it-all,” but she gets one of the best character arc throughout the book. Ruby is a very tiny owl chose for the weathering chaw, which flies into storms; and despite being so small, she’s one of the fiercest there. Not to mention, if you’ve heard of or seen the move (while it’s not accurate to the books,) the villain is a female character who’s absolutely ruthless. I can go on an on about them! 

How do they treat disabled characters?

Ngl this was one of my biggest peeve about Warriors. Any cat with a disability was forced into the medicine cat role, whether they liked it or not. However, that doesn’t mean they’re not strong characters! Cinderpelt and Jayfeather were among my favorites, and Brightheart is still respected in the books and treated as a warrior like the others, though I’d love her to have an apprentice! Deadfoot was a deputy of Windclan, though never made it to leadership. Briarlight was wronged so much in the recent books but no one can tell me she wasn’t one of the bravest warriors. I just wish the editors would have more... diverse ways of handling disabilities. 

As for Guardians of Ga’hoole, while there’s not as many disabled characters, they’re all treated very different from warriors. Ezylryb’s most notable injury is his missing talon, which he bit off long ago to relieve himself from pain. Despite that and his older age, the first time we see him in the books, we’re told that he’s the Ryb of the weathering chaw and a respected member of the Great Tree, an author and a warrior who joined the tree after his injury and was accepted all the same. A character name Hortense, while I can’t tell much about her due to spoilers, is at this same bracket, though very unique to the situation. All Nest-maid snakes are blind, but they’re highly respected at the tree and often wise beyond the owls’ years. Mrs. P plays a more nurturing role, but it was what she chose to do. (Bonus! In the Wolves of the Beyond, there’s severe discrimination against disabled wolves until they’re selected for a special task... nonetheless, they’re the main focus! Also, the main character is disabled as well!)

How about the plot?

Warriors did the “Into The Wild” plot magnificently, in my opinion, along with DotC. However, especially in the later series, we get reused plots and very “cookie-cutter” characters, not to mention it feels like the series has dragged on way too far. (Not to mention, there’s the many forbidden romance plots that have taken away from the fact that they’re not common.) The Super Editions are often a very nice touch, save for some choice ones, like “Spottedleaf’s Heart.” 

Guardians of Ga’hoole follows a singular plot and has an actual end to the series, which wraps it up very nicely. Of course there are side-plots and it’s not always linear, but they always weave back into the main story in some way! There’s no real elaborate romantic sub-plots, and while some may find the romance in the book to be a little forced, I don’t think it’s even slightly like the Warriors’ one. I do have to mention though: as the plot gets further, it gets more and more elaborate and delves into the politics of the owl kingdoms. I personally love it, but I know several people who don’t. You’d have to read it to find out what you think! There are two more things I want to mention though; there’s a very short, three-book “arc” about the past of Ga’hoole, in which it’s told while the owls are reading the book themselves. I always found that to be a really cool and fun way to tell it! The book also entwines with her other series, the “Wolves of the Beyond!” 

Character deaths?

Warriors is notorious for having a large cast of characters and over 100+ cats now, dead or otherwise, and only grows with each book. There will be character deaths for sure, but a lot of them happen between books, which takes away the impact of them and the fact that the forest cats live a rough and rocky life. Many of the deaths are female cats too, as the male cats play a much larger role, unfortunately. The deaths can be gruesome, but not always. 

Guardians of Ga’hoole never exceeds a moderate cast of characters. While it’s known that there are many owls at the Great Tree, the book manages to keep focus on the main ones. There is plenty of character death, but each one is caused for a reason and caused at the right times, making their deaths to give a larger impact on the readers and the owls. From my knowledge, there has been no off-screen character deaths. There are, however, plenty gruesome ones.

I can go on and on, and I might make another plot to do just that, but these are the first things that come to mind! Like I said before, I love(d) Warriors as a series, but they do a lot of things wrong that Guardians of Ga’hoole does right. I suggest that everyone give the book a read before making judgement on it, and I overall just suggest that everyone takes a look at the books, too!

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

What are other books/series that you'd recommend that are in the same vein as Animorphs?

Honestly, your ask inspired me to get off my butt and finally compile a list of the books that I reference with my character names in Eleutherophobia, because in a lot of ways that’s my list of recommendations right there: I deliberately chose children’s and/or sci-fi stories that deal really well with death, war, dark humor, class divides, and/or social trauma for most of my character names.  I also tend to use allusions that either comment on Animorphs or on the source work in the way that the names come up.

That said, here are The Ten Greatest Animorphs-Adjacent Works of Literature According to Sol’s Totally Arbitrary Standards: 

1. A Ring of Endless Light, Madeline L’Engle

This is a really good teen story that, in painfully accurate detail, captures exactly what it’s like to be too young to really understand death while forced to confront it anyway.  I read it at about the same age as the protagonist, not that long after having suffered the first major loss in my own life (a friend, also 14, killed by cancer).  It accomplished exactly what a really good novel should by putting words to the experiences that I couldn’t describe properly either then or now.  This isn’t a light read—its main plot is about terminal illness, and the story is bookended by two different unexpected deaths—but it is a powerful one. 

2. The One and Only Ivan, K.A. Applegate 

This prose novel (think an epic poem, sort of like The Iliad, only better) obviously has everything in it that makes K.A. Applegate one of the greatest children’s authors alive: heartbreaking tragedy, disturbing commentary on the human condition, unforgettably individuated narration, pop culture references, and poop jokes.  Although I’m mostly joking when I refer to Marco in my tags as “the one and only” (since this book is narrated by a gorilla), Ivan does remind me of Marco with his sometimes-toxic determination to see the best of every possible situation when grief and anger allow him no other outlet for his feelings and the terrifying lengths to which he will go in order to protect his found family.

3. My Teacher Flunked the Planet, Bruce Coville

Although the entire My Teacher is an Alien series is really well-written and powerful, this book is definitely my favorite because in many ways it’s sort of an anti-Animorphs.  Whereas Animorphs (at least in my opinion) is a story about the battle for personal freedom and privacy, with huge emphasis on one’s inner identity remaining the same even as one’s physical shape changes, My Teacher Flunked the Planet is about how maybe the answer to all our problems doesn’t come from violent struggle for personal freedoms, but from peaceful acceptance of common ground among all humans.  There’s a lot of intuitive appeal in reading about the protagonists of a war epic all shouting “Free or dead!” before going off to battle (#13) but this series actually deconstructs that message as blind and excessive, especially when options like “all you need is love” or “no man is an island” are still on the table.

4. Moon Called, Patricia Briggs

I think this book is the only piece of adult fiction on this whole list, and that’s no accident: the Mercy Thompson series is all about the process of adulthood and how that happens to interact with the presence of the supernatural in one’s life.  The last time I tried to make a list of my favorite fictional characters of all time, it ended up being about 75% Mercy Thompson series, 24% Animorphs, and the other 1% was Eugenides Attolis (who I’ll get back to in my rec for The Theif).  These books are about a VW mechanic, her security-administrator next door neighbor, her surgeon roommate, her retail-working best friend and his defense-lawyer boyfriend, and their cybersecurity frenemy.  The fact that half those characters are supernatural creatures only serves to inconvenience Mercy as she contemplates how she’s going to pay next month’s rent when a demon destroyed her trailer, whether to get married for the first time at age 38 when doing so would make her co-alpha of a werewolf pack, what to do about the vampires that keep asking for her mechanic services without paying, and how to be a good neighbor to the area ghosts that only she can see.  

5. The Thief, Megan Whalen Turner

This book (and its sequel A Conspiracy of Kings) are the ones that I return to every time I struggle with first-person writing and no Animorphs are at hand.  Turner does maybe the best of any author I’ve seen of having character-driven plots and plot-driven characters.  This book is the story of five individuals (with five slightly different agendas) traveling through an alternate version of ancient Greece and Turkey with a deceptively simple goal: they all want to work together to steal a magical stone from the gods.  However, the narrator especially is more complicated than he seems, which everyone else fails to realize at their own detriment. 

6. Homecoming, Cynthia Voight

Critics have compared this book to a modern, realistic reimagining of The Boxcar Children, which always made a lot of sense to me.  It’s the story of four children who must find their own way from relative to relative in an effort to find a permanent home, struggling every single day with the question of what they will eat and how they will find a safe place to sleep that night.  The main character herself is one of those unforgettable heroines that is easy to love even as she makes mistake after mistake as a 13-year-old who is forced to navigate the world of adult decisions, shouldering the burden of finding a home for her family because even though she doesn’t know what she’s doing, it’s not like she can ask an adult for help.  Too bad the Animorphs didn’t have Dicey Tillerman on the team, because this girl shepherds her family through an Odysseus-worthy journey on stubbornness alone.

7. High Wizardry, Diane Duane

The Young Wizards series has a lot of good books in it, but this one will forever be my favorite because it shows that weird, awkward, science- and sci-fi-loving girls can save the world just by being themselves.  Dairine Callahan was the first geek girl who ever taught me it’s not only okay to be a geek girl, but that there’s power in empiricism when properly applied.  In contrast to a lot of scientifically “smart” characters from sci-fi (who often use long words or good grades as a shorthand for conveying their expertise), Dairine applies the scientific method, programming theory, and a love of Star Wars to her problem-solving skills in a way that easily conveys that she—and Diane Duane, for that matter—love science for what it is: an adventurous way of taking apart the universe to find out how it works.  This is sci-fi at its best. 

8. Dr. Franklin’s Island, Gwyneth Jones

If you love Animorphs’ body horror, personal tragedy, and portrayal of teens struggling to cope with unimaginable circumstances, then this the book for you!  I’m only being about 80% facetious, because this story has all that and a huge dose of teen angst besides.  It’s a loose retelling of H.G. Wells’s classic The Island of Doctor Moreau, but really goes beyond that story by showing how the identity struggles of adolescence interact with the identity struggles of being kidnapped by a mad scientist and forcibly transformed into a different animal.  It’s a survival story with a huge dose of nightmare fuel (seriously: this book is not for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or anyone who skips the descriptions of skin melting and bones realigning in Animorphs) but it’s also one about how three kids with a ton of personal differences and no particular reason to like each other become fast friends over the process of surviving hell by relying on each other.  

9. Sideways Stories from Wayside School, Louis Sachar

Louis Sachar is the only author I’ve ever seen who can match K.A. Applegate for nihilistic humor and absurdist horror layered on top of an awesome story that’s actually fun for kids to read.  Where he beats K.A. Applegate out is in terms of his ability to generate dream-like surrealism in these short stories, each one of which starts out hilariously bizarre and gradually devolves into becoming nightmare-inducingly bizarre.  Generally, each one ends with an unsettling abruptness that never quite relieves the tension evoked by the horror of the previous pages, leaving the reader wondering what the hell just happened, and whether one just wet one’s pants from laughing too hard or from sheer existential terror.  The fact that so much of this effect is achieved through meta-humor and wordplay is, in my opinion, just a testament to Sachar’s huge skill as a writer. 

10. Magyk, Angie Sage

As I mentioned, the Septimus Heap series is probably the second most powerful portrayal of the effect of war on children that I’ve ever encountered; the fact that the books are so funny on top of their subtle horror is a huge bonus as well.  There are a lot of excellent moments throughout the series where the one protagonist’s history as a child soldier (throughout this novel he’s simply known as “Boy 412″) will interact with his stepsister’s (and co-protagonist’s) comparatively privileged upbringing.  Probably my favorite is the moment when the two main characters end up working together to kill a man in self-defense, and the girl raised as a princess makes the horrified comment that she never thought she’d actually have to kill someone, to which her stepbrother calmly responds that that’s a privilege he never had; the ensuing conversation strongly implies that his psyche has been permanently damaged by the fact that he was raised to kill pretty much from infancy, but all in a way that is both child-friendly and respectful of real trauma.  

[cavefelix]

Rinley 'M’ Yatskaya

Not that long ago ago...

"Story!” young Rinley said, grabbing on to her sister’s leg. Rinley was at the age where her sentences were typically only a word or two long. 

Caroline smiled indulgently, lifting Rinley up and walking around the temple. She sat down by Grizzly, a calico who liked hearing tales too. 

“All right. But it will have to be short. I need to go to the market to get some apples to poison and it’s getting late. So let’s tell a story about someone else short -- you, Rinley.”

“There is one man that all fear. One who is unstoppable. One whose motives are inscrutable. He comes to all. Brave men fear him; fear of him is what makes them brave. Wise men seek to avoid him, though their wisdom leads them to eventually learn this is folly. I speak, of course, of Death.”

Rinley clapped. “Brother!”

Caroline nodded. “Yes. He’s much nicer to you than he was to me growing up. He’s never pulled your hair or put a spider down the back of your shirt.” But she said it affectionately. The childhood antics of Kuroma were just  a memory.

“None know why Death chooses to end lives. And none know why he chooses to spare others. But all were surprised when one day, while walking along the shore of Big Lake, he found the wreckage of a boat washed ashore. And clinging on for its life was a baby rat, which he chose to spare.”

Rinley held her little paws up. “Me!” she said.

Caroline nodded. “Yes. You. I don’t know why; normally we don’t like rats very much. But Kuroma took you home. He saw something special in you. You’d been born at sea, and maybe that whispered to him, as our family was founded by a selkie. Or maybe the fact you were barely holding on, on the threshold of life and death, called to the part of him that was death. Perhaps it was the fact that he found you on the anniversary of the day mama disappeared. Or maybe he thought you were cute,” Caroline said, poking Rinley’s belly.

“Yes!” Rinley said.

“To be honest, I thought you’d be eaten within the week --” Caroline began.

“Fish tastes better,” Grizzly interrupted, grooming her paw.

“-- true, but you know some cats are less particular,” Caroline responded conversationally. “But anyway, I was wrong. The cats took to you as well as anyone. And Goro, when he found you, rather than being annoyed said that you should be adopted.

“I wanted to name you Minnie, because you were so tiny. But the rest of the family said you were a Rinley.”

“Yes!” said the little rat.

Rinley ‘M’ Yatskaya

Age: 34 months

Academic Skills: Good

Athletics: Catlike and Ratlike reflexes

Favorite Food: Fish! Especially smelt, sardine, and herring, where you can eat a whole one by yourself.

Animal: Cat

Background

Caroline pretty much told Rinley’s origin story above. She grew up in the Yatskaya shrine, surrounded by cats, raised as a member of the family. Occasionally Fortitude Rats came to parley with Caroline, or discuss the cat population. They were invariably put off by Rinley, and the feeling was mutual.  But for the most part, it was a mystic and mellow upbringing. 

Recently, however, she’s been coming into herself, or out of the shell that is the temple. She realizes she’s changing, and believes it’s a good thing. She doesn’t want to hold it back anymore (if Frozen has made it to your version of Fortitude, she probably loves the song Let It Go), and doesn’t want others to hold back either. She’s ready to dive in to life, seeking new experiences.

Skills:

Superior Non-Fortitude Fortitude Rat 2 -- Rinley would never admit to being a Rat of the Far Roofs, but this skill comes in useful when you need to be 18 inches tall or have a tail.

Story Teller 1 -- Rinley has always had a love for stories

Cat Speaker 2 -- As a Yatskaya she has a natural affinity for cats...

Cat Magic 1 -- ...Including their spirits

Claimed By the Sea 1 -- The ocean claimed her (biological) parents; perhaps it has a hold on her too.

Superior Dreamer 1 -- Growing up in the Yatskaya shrine does things to a young rat.

Play Games 0 -- Rinley has the ability to play chess, checkers, backgammon, Ticket To Ride, and so on, or at least properly move the pieces.

Perks:

Connection 1: Death -- She has always had a special bond with her older brother. It’s possible she also has a bond with the Headmaster, though she’s never met him.

Connection -1: The Rats of the Far Roofs -- They’re just so weird. 

[Bonus Slot] Perk: Accessory - Evening Primrose jewelry -- Rinley has a piece of jewelry that was designed as a bracelet for a human, but she can wear as a necklace or belt. It is a silver chain with a realistic evening primrose hanging from it.  The Primrose is carved from old ivory, so old it has yellowed to the point it is the color of the flower. Its origin is unknown, though  probably it’s connected to more than a long-dead animal. (Since I know ivory is a sensitive subject, I’m assuming Rinley knows somehow it wasn’t taken from a living animal, but one who passed away peacefully, and has an association with death. A piece fo the tusk of an elephant god?) See the power under Prophet for more.

Miraculous Arcs

Prophet 2/Creature of Delerium 1

Prophet

Rinley is deeply connected with death,  After all, she was saved by Death and raised among nine-lived beings in a mystic environment. But not the “you’re no longer alive” aspect of death. She's connected with the symbolic meaning of Death, its representation in the Tarot. She's associated with the aspect of Personal Change, or Self Transformation, depending on which wording better suits the situation This is her Principle. She’s probably not actively aware of this. She's consciously going around trying to upset the status quo. But she's an agent of this whether she wants to be or not. (She does. Your character doesn’t get to be called The Troublemaker by chance.) Of course, this has created enemies. Obviously, not everyone wants change and the uncertainty it brings. In the Glass Maker's Dragon, she's probably opposed by The Moon Prince, who seeks for people to let go, to stop changing. I suspect she may also be opposed by Billy Sovereign, whose vision is not quite a world of changelessness, but one in which there is but one kind of change, where you become sycophants of Billy Sovereign. It's even possible she'll butt heads with the Dream Witch or someone else who wishes a return to old fashioned ways, though I advise that to be more a friendly rivalry than outright hostility if the Dream Witch is a PC.  Rinley has the following powers associated with this Mystic Arc. If you're trying to become more mystical, which isn't the default but there's an option in her quest set, she also has Frantic. Divine Guidance: When Rinley is uncertain what do do, she can form a Level 4 Intention, at no Will cost, to "Listen to the subtle ways that change is all around us." Usually this is an HG hint as to what might foster change in this situation. She also, when using Divine Guidance, may understand symbols and motifs of death, even when unfamiliar with them. When she uses this power to serve the principle of change, she gains a +3 tool bonus. Finally, when opposed by a bleak power, this can shatter the effects, creating a chaotic backlash that affects Rinley and the target, essentially inflicting a Serious Wound. This power can be used once or twice a book at no cost. Subsequent uses cost 1 MP. For 2 MP, Rinley can use this with any intention. Divine Guidance (Powered Up): If Rinley can sustain the Intention of Divine Guidance for an entire chapter, she can cause a major sort of change in the Region. A downtown neighborhood could get a facelift, a school could adopt a new curriculum, or a medical organization may decide that exercise and diet are bad for your mental health, and change to suggesting eating only butter because it feels good emotionally. Materialization of Possibility When you're facing a problem you can't deal with, you (or someone) needs to change. Rinley can invoke Materialization of Possibility to use personal change to solve an immediate problem. This power can take many forms, often a Tool Bonus or temporary Perk. This can be used once or twice a book at no cost. For 1 MP, this can make things somewhat more likely or powerful. For 4 MP it makes something much more likely or more powerful. Example: Rinley is being chased by the First Free Dog, because she stole its favorite squeaky toy on a whim. Materialization of Possibility might give her a +1 bonus to persuade him that rope toys are more fun, changing his outlook. If she runs through a pet store and spends 1 MP, the First Free Dog may see the ideal new toy. For 4 MP, she might decide it's time to change herself and stop treating dogs as inferior to cats, gaining the Superior Dog Speaker 4 Perk to telepathically explain herself to the undead pup.

Inspiration

RInley draws inspiration from places where her aspect of death is not weak. Much of Little Island and the Walking Fields are out of bounds, due to their properties of “things can’t change before they’re ready” and “What happens is what always happened,” respectively, but there are exceptions there where Death and Change are strong enough -- the memorial statue of Jade Irinka; or during a Wild Hunt, for example.. 

While in these places, she can invoke Inspiration to have her Story Telling and Game Playing Skills transform, becoming The Story Telling  and The Games of Transformation. They will always have a minimum Intention of 4, and ignore 1-2 points of Obstacle.  They also function as if they were Superior 1 Skills; her stories seem particularly inspirational; the dice seem to favor her, forcing you to adapt your strategy. 

In places hallowed by death/rebirth -- important mausoleums, holidays about Death, etc., these skills function as Level 2 Superior Skills. Rinley plays games on a master level revealing the need for you to adapt, and her tales stir the hearts of the most callous person.

Inspiration can be used 1-2 times per scene at no cost. It costs 1 MP for subsequent uses, or 4 MP to use it as many times as needed per scene.

Vestments

In the language of flowers, Evening Primrose is a symbol of fickleness, or inconstancy. A sign that people change. While Rinley doesn’t always wear it, her jewelry can function as if she were in a place where death is strong enough for her to get the lowest advantages of a Superior 1 skill with Inspiration. 

(Sometimes Rinley leaves this at the the temple, because cats like to paw at dangling things on chains.)

This is a bonus perk, noted above.

Hallow

Over the course of several months*, or instantly for 4 MP, Rinley can make a place sacred to her principle, giving it the Property People are driven to do something different with their lives. 

* Normally Hallow takes years to invoke, but as a rat her lifespan is, like, seven or eight years, so I’ve reduced is slightly. 

Creature of Delerium 1

Rinley wants people to change, to achieve their potential. They don’t do that though, and she always wondered why. She only recently realized the answer when a cat spirit spoke to her. “You can’t just wait for the door to open so you’re on the other side You need to yowl incessantly. You can’t wait for the Ming vase to fall; you must push it yourself. They who hesitate are lost.” 

And the spirit taught her the truth, feelings of hesitation. This is her Experience. Or course, making a deal with a Cat Spirit to learn more about how to help people has a downside. Rinley sometimes notices it affecting her way of thinking. That’s a curse, though she may not realize it’s a problem.

Also, while on Creature of Delerium, Rinley gains the power Sickly.

Embodiment

Whenever Rinley has been in an area for more than a few minutes, a Region Property forms: Rinley feels no hesitation.

Extraction

Rinley may, by touching someone on the shoulder, remove their sense of hesitation. (Getting to their shoulder may require some climbing, but such is life.) Their sense of hesitation takes the form of a small chain (holding them back, get it?). Someone without hesitation isn’t necessarily going to do stupid impulsive things, but they’re not going to let what was holding them back from what they wanted stop them without a solid reason, 

Rinley can affect their sense of hesitation by manipulating the chain, wrapping it around a particular object to make the person hesitate over it. She could also theoretically use Cat Magic to affect it, presumably making the person hesitate over what would make a cat hesitate. 

She can return their sense of hesitation with no effort; others face an Obstacle 2 Action. 

Using Extraction can be done for free once per chapter; subsequent uses cost 2 MP.   

Command

Rinley may see through the senses of someone who she has extracted their sense, or direct their actions.  Normally, this faces a Level 2 Obstacle, though that can be waived for 1 MP. While doing this, Rinley is considered the vessel for purposes of any Miracle targeting it.

Catharsis 

When RInley targets you with a miracle, the effect can be emotionally powerful. (This includes interacting with command.) Since she wants people to change, this is very convenient.

This can be used twice per book (but once per chapter) for free, It costs 2MP for a third use; and 4MP to use more than once per chapter. 

Notes

Prophet is an easy Arc to visualize, and hard to pin down when writing it. I felt I could have made most of the powers’ listings much longer.

The Victorian language of flowers has a few plants that signify death, but I think they signify the I Want You To No Longer Breathe aspect, not the change aspect. Evening Primrose isn’t perfect, but it’s as close as I could come.

If you’re using this as an alternate Rinley for a GMD campaign, a few possible suggestions:

Substitue the Rat Prince(ss) for the Straw Haired Child if you are looking for a lead. They’re the first Fortitude Rat she’s met that’s interesting, then she loses them to something.

Rinley’s quests and emotion XP work pretty well for this character. If you want her a emotion XP to be a little more serious than Groan, I’d consider Fist Shake. 

When Rinley interacts with they Titovs, I’m pretty sure that she isn’t going to accidentally free Iolithae. Instead, she’s going to “accidentally” free Iolithae.

[frczenhcartarchive]

Hello there! I'm really really wanting to join the descendants rp community with a child of Elsa, but I'm seeing a lot of the same things being used and I came across your blog here and fell in love! I was just wondering what to possibly do or not to do when creating my character because your's is so diverse and different and I absolutely am hoping you can help me out!

this is LITERALLY the sweetest thing i’ve read, and i’ve noticed i’ve got a few of these sitting in my inbox so i figured i’d just answer all of them now. i was an rph for a reason. so consider this KYLA’S GUIDE TO CREATING CHARACTERS. and since descendants is my primary focus in this, please keep this in mind. but i will try to keep this as open to all character types and fandoms as possible.

this will explain step by step how i created my own muse and what i thought of in terms of how i chose his name, personality, appearance and faceclaim. please keep in mind to read ALL THE WAY TO THE END in case i misinformed anything or incorrectly stated anything as i have received hate before and hurtful messages for unknowingly reblogging things and upsetting people.

so let us begin !!

1. THINK ABOUT THE CHARACTER’S PARENTS. in a descendants sort of way, we have to always keep in mind that there are parents involved. whether it be two mothers, two fathers, or a mother and father. even MAL’S FATHER is mentioned in the books. in eldon’s case, i started with hans. but after adding elsa, it changed things. never solely base your character off one parent. if you CHOOSE to have one parent like evie, jay and carlos, or basically every other kid on the isle, please keep in mind that every character has their own personality. do NOT rely solely on the parent’s persona to create the character. it’s not very original and it’s like a copy and pasted version of the parent. 

2. APPEARANCE. i never make the character’s name first, i always start with the appearance. feel FREE to go out of order if you just need help with one thing! but this is where genes take a role. YEP! science is apart of this tutorial! in eldon’s case, a lot of people ask me why he has red hair instead of blonde. ( and it wasn’t just for the lack if blonde male face claims i wanted to choose from ) i kept in mind that elsa had blonde hair because of her powers, BUT blonde hair is a recessive gene, as in even if both parents have dark hair, if there was any sort of blonde hair in their family, the kid can get it. i also noted how a LOT of children of elsa had blonde hair, so i avoided that all together. this is where the other parent comes in handy. hans has RED hair. it’s also a recessive gene, but i found that it’d really make my character look different apposed to his mom’s appearance. 

( CONT. ) putting it all together, you can really just pick and choose what you want. hans has red hair and green eyes while elsa has blonde hair and blue eyes, so instead of solely basing eldon’s appearance on one parent, i mixed and matched. he has red hair and blue eyes. in the part of appearance as well, you want to keep in mind that it’s not just about the hair color and eye color. NOTICE their features. do they look more like their mom or dad? what aspects of their dad do they have? what aspects of their mom do they have? are there any features they have that aren’t their mom’s or dad’s? it help builds a better mental picture of what you want your character to look like! in my case, i presumed eldon looked more like hans with the broad exterior, charming features and the way hans carried himself. though given his facial appearance, he still has a lot of knicks of his dad’s but his facial features give more towards his mom’s side. the previous king of arendelle, elsa’s father, gave eldon his nose, bone structure and could have possibly been the source of his red hair. but eldon’s also been known to have his mom’s eyes. that’s the most notable feature, actually to me. he has elsa’s calculating, protruding eyes.

3. PERSONALITY. this one is what gets me every time. i’ve noticed that a lot of people base their character’s personality PRIMARILY on their parents. a lot of children of elsa ( to my observation ) have a very similar personality to hers. obviously there will be aspects of a parents personality, but REMEMBER, your character isn’t their parent. evie was brought up to want to be the prettiest and thought that she had to be beautiful to get a prince, but while she was discovering herself, she learned to be incredibly bright, intelligent and there was more to her than just her looks. so while some traits are genetic, a lot of a character’s personality is given due to their upbringing. EX. eldon was brought up a lot like elsa was, being shoved behind walls to learn everything in solitude and alone. parents tend to raise their kids as their parents had before them, and while elsa had thought it was the right thing, it turned out to be the wrong thing. not to forget that he’s sent to the Isle for misdemeanor and when he lives with his father, hans does the same thing his own father did by looking to eldon as weak and insolent. this causes eldon to become very reclusive and quiet, primarily callous and mistrustful. while yes, eldon does have some traits from elsa, like his nervousness that gets the best of him from time to time and fear of himself, he also has hans’ personality of being afraid of failure, wanting nothing but to prove his worth to people around him. BUT he also learns that he is independent, strong-willed and wants to help people who are in similar situations that he is in.

4. NAMES. i always find myself falling into this category last. to a lot of people NAMES HAVE MEANING. in the descendants, you notice a lot of the kids have names starting with the same letter as their parents or even the same name as their parents ( ie. gaston jr. ) don’t let this limit you to naming your character. eldon did get his name from his mom’s initials, elsa, but the meaning of his name gives reference to the trolls in frozen that help save anna’s life. eldon is english for ‘from the elves’ valley’, which obviously they’re not elves, but it’s close to mentioning the grove where the trolls were residing and i picked this on purpose because it reminded me of that very situation. i also had mentioned before how his middle name gives reference to elsa as well, as arvid means ‘forest of eagles’ and in american culture, eagles are seen as symbols of freedom. elsa’s want for freedom for her powers i included in eldon’s name.

ALSO. don’t forget that if your character is from a certain ethnic background, it’s a good idea to stay in their country’s language as in eldon’s norwegian heritage plays a part in his name.

5. THINK OF THE LITTLE THINGS. what makes your character like they are? what’s their favorite food? favorite color? what are their hobbies? fears? likes or dislikes? habits? what are they good at? what are they bad at? what would they like to work on? little things like this could make a HUGE difference in how your character interacts or even sees themselves.

6. BIOGRAPHICAL & CHOOSING A FACE CLAIM. i still do make mistakes when it comes to this here. DO NOT STRETCH YOUR FACE CLAIM’S ETHNICITY OR GENDER. i am pulling some strings with using kj apa, as he’s partially samoan but also majority Caucasian, so i’m walking on thin ice here. also, if your character is transgender or non-binary, use a trans!face claim or even a faceclaim who identifies themselves as non-binary. using cis!faceclaims to play trans or non-binary muses can result in insulting muns that are trans or non-binary themselves. IE. my muse moriana is non-binary and her faceclaim is amandla stenberg, who has openly identified as being non-binary.

 if your character’s parent(s) or one of them is african-american and the other is white, that would more than likely make them mixed-raced. i’d recommend keeping your faceclaims the race that their parent is specified, though i did find some place where it’s OKAY to choose their parents’ ethnicity or biographical information ONLY IF they’re ethnicity isn’t stated otherwise. like audrey, aurora’s daughter appears to be mix raced, and her grandmother being african-american also perceives or gives reference to the fact it’s HIGHLY possible aurora is african-american herself. in situations like these, IT’S HIGHLY RECOMMENDED TO MAKE SURE YOU DO NOT OFFEND ANYONE’S RACE AND TO ENSURE THAT YOU ARE PORTRAYING THEIR CULTURE CORRECTLY. ( me, the mun, am of israeli descent and i sure as hell am not cool of someone portraying my culture the way they want to ) i would highly recommend NOT doing this unless you’ve really dug deep into the biographical studies. i have done it ONCE myself with my daughter of snow white and all i did was created a latinx version of snow white. PLEASE BE CAREFUL IF YOU CHOOSE TO DO THIS. ( i will make the disclaimer that i am in no way encouraging anyone to bend the ethnicity of ANY POC FACE CLAIMS. THIS IS STRICTLY FOR WHITE FACE CLAIMS AND WITH A LOT OF STUDYING AND MAKING SURE IT IS OKAY WITH OTHERS BEFORE YOU DO SO ) 

7. HAVING FUN. after getting all of your character’s information and are happy with what you’ve done, GO OUT AND INTRODUCE THEM TO THE WORLD. roleplaying is one of the BEST ways to understand and work with your character, whether it be an OC or CANON DIVERGENT, you make your character work how you want them to! it’s all about research, learning and finding out how you want your muse or character to be while also being aware of how they can effect those around you!

BONUS. for descendants, children of elsa seem to ALWAYS have the ice magic she possesses, and it’s SUPER ALRIGHT to give your character those powers, but keep in mind it’s also possible they don’t have them. how would they cope with being normal? would they see themselves as ‘different’ opposed to their mom? 

i gave eldon the powers to help me further develop his personality. unlike his mom, he uses his power as a WEAPON but also sees it as a curse. he both fears and abuses his ability and often pays the price for it. depending on how you create your character, you can bend it in all sorts of ways! the sky is the limit though be sure to keep them original and diverse! you want to avoid all sources of mary-sues and gary-stus.

i really hope this has been helpful and i know i am still learning character development myself, IF THERE IS ANY INFORMATION IN HERE THAT IS INCORRECT OR NEEDS TO BE ALTERED, please message me and DO NOT INBOX ME ON ANON OR IN GENERAL. it’s much more civil to let me know 1x1 so i can personally apologize if i may have misinformed or worded something incorrectly.

[otterlylla-archive]

Lylla Masterpost

It’s been almost 3 years since GotG came out and Rocket Raccoon became hugely popular and I still keep seeing people wondering: Who’s Lylla?

You probably all know her as Rocket’s (ex) girlfriend, who is also an otter. She’s  appeared in VERY few stories, even less so than Blackjack O’Hare or Wal Russ. According to official sources, she’s coming back in the upcoming Rocket solo comic. 

So, to refresh some people’s memories of the character, or if you don’t know who she is, here’s a post with EVERY time she’s appeared in since Rocket’s debut to this day.

Lylla’s first appearance was in Rocket’s first appearance as well (not counting the Marvel Preview where he was called Rocky). She’s presented as Rocket’s girlfriend and Wal Russ’ (honorary?) niece, who named his ship, and a distressed damsel who gets kidnapped to lure Rocket into a trap. Of course, Rocket saves her and all is good...for the time. In general, she’s shown to be a weak, helpless individual who never gets to do anything on her own. She’s less a character and more a walking plot device. She barely has any dialogue, at that (I’m not posting every panel where she appears, btw). 

When she reappeared in the limited 4-issue Rocket Raccoon series, in 1985, Lylla’s character was expanded. She’s introduced as stripping, jumping into a waterfall and fooling around with Rocket.

Here, she is the heiress of Mayhem Mekaniks, the biggest toy-making industry in planet Halfworld. The toys are used to entertain the mentally ill humanoids living in the planet. However, her parents were killed when she was very young and the company was taken over by the mole Judson Jakes (who was the one who had her parents killed). Supposedly he’s only the owner of the company until “she comes of age” (Lylla was underage here?), so he’s forcing Lylla to marry him and thus get her company. Lylla refuses, of course.At the same time, rival toy company owner Lord Dyvyne also wants to marry Lylla in order to get her fortune, and she refuses as well. 

So Dyvyne sends the Black Bunny Brigade (lead by Blackjack O’Hare) to kidnap her and send her to him. Blackjack captured her (JUUUUST when she was holding a gun and about to fight to retrieve the Gideon’s Bible on her own, because she’s apparently not allowed to do that), but then decided HE wanted to marry her and get her fortune. Again, she refuses. He hits her, as well (for getting distracted looking at a mural, at that).

When Rocket and Wal Russ go to save her, she gets to punch a few bad guys, but then goes back to being a doormat when Blackjack becomes forceful. 

When Rocket arrives, Lylla...scolds him, for not being brave enough, even though he was in a hurry at the moment. When Blackjack joins Rocket’s group and they escape, she’s wary of him and he wants to get rid of her (because she’s the one the villains want).

Later, the scientist turtle Pyko explains what is the true nature of the planet: It was always meant to be a mental asylum and the animals are there to look after and entertain the patients, and everything the animals did was because of the original robot caretakers. Lylla, like Rocket, is surprised, but nowhere near to Rocket’s extent. 

Blackjack betrays the group and attempts to stab Lylla, but she (finally) fights back.

When they get to the toy-making factory (apparently the “real” one operated by robots, which makes the Toy Wars completely moot) they make special helmets  that can “cure” the mentally ill people (I’m making a whole different post about the ableism in Rocket’s backstory). When one is used on Rocket, he “realizes the depth of his love for Lylla” and smooches her, to her surprise (?). Lylla is also the first one to realize how quiet the patients got when the helmets are used on them. 

The villains strike back, and Lylla uses a gun alongside the main characters. She doesn’t fight directly though, and mainly hugs Rocket and swoons over his bravery. 

In the end, Rocket defeats the villains and Lylla leaves the planet with Rocket and the other animals in a giant spaceship, since they’re “no longer needed”. 

Something I noticed: thorough the story, Lylla NEVER does any work for her company at all. In fact, Jakes and Dyvyne fully believe that she’ll only manage the company with Rocket and then give all the toys away. This could be a good chance for a “villains underestimating a woman and then being proven wrong”, except that she NEVER does anything about it. She doesn’t even care about Rocket wanting to decipher the mysteries of Halfworld; she just wants to swim and have fun with her boyfriend. 

So basically: Lylla is a very passive, caring and sweet lady who nevertheless can fight and use a gun, doesn’t like working, has no authority over anybody, no ambitions and would rather have fun all day with no worries. That is, until Annihilators happened.

In this story, the entire “Toy Wars” thing got retconned into a holographic projection inserted in Rocket’s brain to keep him from going back to his planet. Here, Halfworld is portrayed as a maximum security psychiatric hospital/prison for the “incurably insane” (eeeeuuugh) attended by uplifted animals, and Rocket left to keep a powerful evil psychic from escaping by turning himself into the “key” that kept him prisoner (long story).

As for Lylla, she’s the head nurse and helps Rocket regain her memories using a special helmet (of course). She also used to be in a relationship with Rocket, but after he left, got married with Blackjack (who, in this version, was always a good guy and never hurt or kidnapped her). Rocket takes it all VERY well and wishes them for prosperity.

In this series, Lylla narrates what “truly” happened to Rocket and his planet, but NEVER does anything on her own, outside of shooting Rocket with a paralyzing gun when he got scared. Once the action starts, she gets shoved into the background, because she’s a woman or something. She also barely changes her expression and seems much more distant than how she was before.

it’s worth mentioning that here, none of the animals CHOSE to work in the hospital. They were just made to do so and nobody says anything about it. Rocket is the only one showing any interest of working in a completely different field. 

In the Free Comic Book Day 2014 comic, Rocket is accompanied by Wal Russ and fights against Blackjack (who is a mercenary again....?) and Dyvyne (who is alive...?!), and Pyko gets an appearance, but Lylla is nowhere to be found. Then there are the Skottie Young Rocket comics, which apparently negate Annihilators happened (and Lylla gets no mention at all, which I feel is for the better given the awful “Angry ex girlfriends” storyline). She doesn’t show up in the animated series episode involving Halfworld, either, even though most of the original characters appeared.

Ever since Annihilators, Lylla hasn’t appeared in ANYTHING, outside of getting her name dropped in a freeze-frame bonus in the GotG movie. Her name is included as one of Rocket’s allies along with Groot. Where is she and what did she do? Hasn’t been shown yet, and probably never will. 

According to official sources though, she IS coming back in the upcoming Rocket solo series, but given what happened with Blackjack O’Hare and how Rocket’s character has been getting increasingly more violent, self-centered, obnoxious, smarmy and petty, it wouldn’t be out of place for her to be completely derailed, turned evil, attempt to kill Rocket and/or get killed off. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

UPDATE: On May 2017, the latest Rocket solo series came out. One important character was Rocket’s “old flame” Otta Spice, an otter-like alien femme fatale who’s very clearly a stand-in for Lylla with a different personality. Lylla herself was alluded to during the story but didn’t show up until the last issue, in the form of a dream/hallucination. 

In this continuity, the events of the older comics happened BUT they kept the “Lylla married Blackjack” bit from Annihilators. Huh. Gotta keep her out of the way.

But the most notable reappareance of Lylla was on the Telltale GotG videogame, where she’s part of Rocket’s backstory. She’s voiced by Fryda Wolff and has a sweet, calm and playful personality, helping Rocket escape from Halfworld while gently teasing him. She’s also a skilled engineer and inventor. Unfortunately she dies to further Rocket’s angst, but she can be revived at the very end of the game.

So, after all this, I gotta ask: how would YOU save Lylla (from her narrative)?

[artfulgeekgirl]

Did you notice I changed the tagline for the blog?  You’ll note that it now announces that I am an ‘erratic’ blogger. As much as I wish it weren’t true, it is.  I haven’t been able to post here since before Christmas! I could give you a lot of excuses, running my online tech and website creation business, lack of a really decent camera and recording setup for videos, the flu, snowstorms…. the list could go on forever.  They are all true.  Plus, the fact that I love blogging about my art/papercrafting and it always makes me feel guilty when I sit down to write a post.  A wee, little voice whispers that this is for fun, and I must have ‘real’ work to do. So please forgive me when my posting gets erratic. I’m going to try to hush that wee, little voice and get back on track.

I thought I’d start simply with one of my current Craft Crushes.

Watercolors.  I know, I know, everyone is into watercolors now.  There must be a reason right? 

I think for me it has a lot to do with moving past the Artist Loft cheap set and seeing how different other options, particularly professional grade watercolors, are. That’s not to say that when you’re just starting out that Artist Loft isn’t a valid choice. However, if you’re feeling a bit bewildered about just why everyone is so nuts about watercolors right now, do yourself a favor and try something at a higher level.

Below is my own progression, and three great options at three different price points, for you to try.

Peerless Watercolors:  These were the first watercolors I purchased when I became frustrated with the chalky nature of the Artist Loft set.  I purchased both the Complete Edition of 15 colors and the small Bonus Pack of 40 colors because…well because I wanted as many colors as possible.  One of the reasons I chose Peerless is because they come on what is called a dry sheet.  Intense, concentrated watercolor is loaded onto a special fabric paper and dried.  Originally invented in 1855 for hand-coloring photographs, they are packaged in leaflets for easy transport. In fact, they are so concentrated that looking at the dry sheet really doesn’t tell you what color it may be. Touch the color loaded paper with a wet brush and watch the magic happen.  An orange might end up being a soft flesh tone. An eggplant purple ends up being a soft beautiful jade.

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The biggest reason I invested in Peerless first was their portability.  I created a palette with heavy watercolor paper, dividing it into a grid and gluing a small 1“ square of the larger dry sheet into each square. Beneath each square I did a small swatch of what the color actually looked like and numbered them all. On the front of this super flat 9” x 6” booklet palette I have the numbers with the actual color name next to them for reference.  These are the watercolors that stay in my travel art kit because they take up so little space but provide such vibrant and transparent color that blends wonderfully.  When I use up a square I simply snip a new one from the original sheet and replace it in my palette.

The cost isn’t bad at $15.00 for the 15 color Complete Edition.  If you’re like me and need more colors, the small Bonus pack will cost you another $23.00. Still for 55 quality watercolors $48.00 isn’t bad at all.

Jane Davenport Watercolor Palettes:  I was so very excited when Jane Davenport announced that she was going to have her very own mixed media line at Michaels. I’ve been a huge fan of Jane for several years and was even lucky enough to take a class with her through the Ever After online course I took this past summer. Her amazing whimsical girls  have been an influence on my own art and her Beautiful Faces book is currently in my cart at Amazon.

I hoarded my Michael’s gift cards I received for Christmas and waited somewhat impatiently for the Jane Davenport collection to arrive at my local store.  The first day it was available I purchased both the Bright and Neutral watercolor palettes. Each comes in an adorable little tin (the neutral came in a GOLD one!) with 12 half pans of watercolor goodness. I love the colors like 70’s eyeshadow and Kiss Kiss. While these sets aren’t billed as  professional watercolors, they are perfect for art journaling, card making, and all kinds of papercrafting. The colors are rich, transparent and mix wonderfully to create new and wonderful colors.

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If you’re someone who likes to know the details about your paints, Jane has all the info about lightfastness and pigment colors listed on her website.  I adore these watercolors and especially love the skin tones in the neutral palette, which means I don’t have to mix my own skin tones every time I paint a whimsical face.

At $29.99[1] a palette, these paints are a bit more expensive, but worth it.  Not to mention a great bargain when using a coupon for 40% or 50% off.

Daniel Smith Watercolors:  Daniel Smith Watercolors are high quality, professional watercolors. Yes, that means these are some super expensive paints.  Worth. Every. Penny. But probably not an investment everyone is going to want to make.  As I have become more serious about my artwork, I found myself drawn over and over again to these paints.  Other artists that I admire like Jane Davenport have sung their praises.  I’ve watched loads of YouTube videos of artists swatching them and exclaiming over the incredible color and quality.  I’ve been lusting after them for almost a year, but at what seems to be an average of $8[2] for a tiny 5ml tube and $15[3] for a slightly larger 15ml tube, my dreams of a huge colorful palette of Daniel Smith watercolors seemed pretty doomed on my budget.

Then I discovered Artistic Katt on Etsy. Shandra, the owner of the shop, hand pours Daniel Smith watercolors into half pans and sells them in this more affordable format.  I send out a thousand thanks as she makes it a bit easier to build a Daniel Smith palette, learn what colors we love and then simply purchase a tube when our half pan runs low.  I purchased the 8 new colors that Daniel Smith recently released and the Perfect Transparent sets. And while the $120.85 that I spent combined can still be considered expensive, it was much, much cheaper than it would have been buying tubes of all 18 colors. That said, if the colors you love are available in 5ml tubes, they may be just as inexpensive on a website like Dick Blick. For example, I did a price check on seven of  the  colors I want and it was a little cheaper to purchase the 5ml tubes at Blick, so sometimes it pays to price check.

Why are they so expensive?  It will take one dip of the brush into the half pan and you’ll notice the difference immediately. Luscious, transparent and buttery can all be used to describe the experience. The pigments are so rich that a little bit goes a long, long way.  These paints are made for professional artists and longevity of their artwork. I haven’t had a moment of buyers remorse at all. In fact, I already have about 10 more colors favorited for another order from Artistic Katt.

I should note that I use all three of these watercolors in my art and papercrafting. I haven’t abandoned any of them.  I have however given my Artist Loft set to my granddaughter.

If you’re ready to explore watercolors, I can wholeheartedly recommend all three. If you’re short on space or like creating on the go, the Peerless are perfect.  If you want something that works for stamping, cardmaking, mixed media as well as your artwork- the Jane Davenport palettes are great.  And if you’re ready to get serious about watercolors do yourself a favor and try some Daniel Smith.

If you’d like to see the colors from all three brands swatched, you can watch my YouTube video below where briefly explain how I made a simple swatch book and do a flip through.

[1] This is the cost in the US. JaneDavenport.com also sells them Internationally where they are priced in AUD, as she is in Australia.

[2] The lowest price I saw for 5ml was $6.86 the highest appeared to be $10.33 for some of the Primatek colors made from genuine stones.

[3] The lowest price for 15ml I saw was $11.71, the highest $22.11 for genuine Lapis Lazuli or Kingman Turquoise.

Craft Crush: Watercolors- Peerless, Jane Davenport and Daniel Smith Did you notice I changed the tagline for the blog?  You’ll note that it now announces that I am an ‘erratic’ blogger.