#and her going ‘fuck the goblin king he has no power over me but also /fuck/ the goblin king’

[captainsspnanon]

C2E69 - The Kings Cage - rewatch reaction

The episode that should have been NiceTM, and was not.

Whyyyy are the subtitles so fucked for this episode? They’re covering Travis’s face! I’m guessing it’s because of the PC icons that showed up. Wait, is this the first time that this has happened??? *checks previous episode again* Oh man, I’m so used to seeing this that 1) I didn’t notice when it wasn’t there and 2) I didn’t realize that this was the first time they showed up! I don’t remember this fucking up the subtitles before or in other episodes….maybe this was first time issues?

I am super distracted by Matt not noticing Sam’s shirt.

Funnily enough, this entire scene matches what the one dnd playtest is talking about with warlocks. Sometimes they are the only one calling for a short rest and you have this disparity in what the players want to do.

It is now July 4th, I last touched this a full fucking month ago. I have watched ~30 minutes of the latest Candela Obscura, but am struggling to get into it (a sad reality of me and CR one shots and mini-series.) SO LET’S GET BACK TO THE DRAMA!!

...I’m only 17 minutes in….*starts over from the beginning*

Oh geez I forgot that this was episode 69. They went into this with teasing hype for months about ‘lul 69’ and then they got this heart wrench of an episode.

Sam and Laura play the “I have Not(t)” bit really well. There’s just a touch in Jester’s tone which is inserting a comma in there ‘I have, Nott’, but it’s a clever bit of attempted deception as well, even though it fails.

I’d forgotten that Nott claimed the flask defined her as a person. T.T Once the campaign is over, it’s easy to remember the goblin alcoholism as mostly jokes, but there were some really deep and painful moments. I don’t personally know anyone who struggles with addiction, so I know there are aspects of this emotionally that I don’t relate to, but there these small moments are incredibly well done. Sam talked about how he discussed Scanlan’s attempts at addiction with Brian, I don’t recall if he also went to him for Nott?

The juxtaposition of Jester very seriously expressing her worries to Nott about how when Nott is drunk, she’s less cautious and will run straight at things without looking for traps, versus everyone else loosing their shit when she says ‘or trigger them’. I’ll have to try to pay attention, but I think even after this RP, Nott still doesn’t become someone super careful about looking for traps. We, of course, know her big moments in the future (happy fun ball time!), but I’m unsure if Sam/Nott is more on top of it.

I really do love the push/pull relationship that Nott/Veth has with her family and her love of adventure. In hindsight, I feel like Sam managed to hold the balance of it very well and very realistically. For most of the PCs, I feel like the epilogues give me enough to have a very good idea of their lives going forwards, even if only for a while. Veth is the one I’m curious about the most though, how does she continue to balance her love of adventure with her family? The dynamics have certainly changed from how they were pre-campaign, and that helps a lot, but I wonder if sometimes she may instigate small things for the Nein to go on, or if she insists she get invited along to someone else’s trip (maybe one of the trips to Aeor?). Or does she find herself content with the chaos of the summer camp in addition to her homely life?

LOL Sam and Laura pushing for Caleb to have a chin that matches Liam, and Liam at every instance making it clear with official art that Caleb absolutely does NOT have a cleft chin.

Does the whip ever actually get used in combat? I know it gets given to Fjord when he loses his power…. TELL ME, CRITROLESTATS. Actually transcript search might be better for this, I don’t think critrolestats says what weapon is used. I think it’s only used in the Obann fight here, and then with the purple worm by Fjord, and then by no one else ever again. XD It gets mentioned in another episode or two as a possibility to use (catching someone who might fall), but I don’t think it does?

WE NEED MORE CALEB AND YASHA MOMENTS!!! Him suggesting she be in the middle of the group, her not being sure, him saying that protection is not a bad thing, her saying it could be and then almost asking him permission to be on the front, him making it clear he’s not telling her what to do. Seriously, this pairing has SUCH a good dynamic and it only gets better from here, but we have so little interaction. :( I will forever grump and mourn and exclaim that we need more Liam and Ashley scenes. We were robbed of Pike and Vax moments in C1, robbed on Caleb and Yasha moments in C2, and I could ALWAYS use more than we currently have in C3.

LOL at the matching nat 1s for trying to determine what the sigil is. Very very glad that Caleb had fortune’s favor and could re-roll. The sometimes frustrating aspect of dnd is some PCs failing at stuff they should 100% be able to do. I’m reminded of the Hand’s heart scene where Liam kept failing checks for Caleb where everyone else was succeeding, despite the fact that it was arcana related.

...Torog? Moradin? Sehanine? What’s with all these 5e names, Matt? I’d thought you’d thoroughly switched to unique epithets by now. You’re even using with with the Allhammer and Moonweaver!

Why do they immediately assume devil upon red skin, yellow eyes, two horns? They’re all gasping before he gets to the wings, but couldn’t he just have been a tiefling with the description?

Did we ever find out what Obann thought he was actually getting from the Angel of Irons? We know they opened abyssal rifts, and that they were trying to free Tharizdun (without knowing that’s what they were doing). So like, is it just an image of an angel saying ‘free me by doing this, oh and also tear the planes apart to let demons in?’ ..demons? devils? This is the hardest part of 5e for me, dammit. Demons. Demons from the abyss. But Obann’s a devil. Aaagh as much as I enjoy the angel of irons subplot, it’s also I think the sketchiest plot in all of CR with no clear understanding of goals or what or why.

...Is this the first “making my way”??? *checks transcripts* Oh, it’s not – the first was in episode 60. BUT I think this is the first time since then, so here’s where it becomes a running gag?

Huh, not letting Fjord get off his eldritch blasts that triggered the whole initiative.

“what do a devil and a tree have in common? Intelligence” …..not gonna lie, I don’t get the joke at ALL. Tasha’s Hideous Laughter would fail just because I’m so confused. I’m ASSUMING that it’s just calling Obann dumb….if so I feel like it would be better if the object were ‘rock’ or ‘brick’, based off of ‘dumb as a rock’ or ‘dumb as a brick’.

I’ve seen some people say that Matt picked up the trick of stating a DC ahead of time from Brennan, but here he just stated that Beau needed at 25 DC acrobatics to do a flurry of blows on Obann (she fails with a 22), so it’s something that he has done beforehand. I think it’s just not something that he prefers to do much.

Only two rounds to free the Laughing Hand? Well, I guess it’s something that Matt really needed to have happen so that makes sense. I think I would have liked three or four rounds to give the PCs more time to do shit, but that’s just personal preference.

Oooo!!! I forgot that over the break he replaced the sarcophagus mini with a broken open sarcophagus! Fun!

Counterspell a Shield! Not quite a counterspell a counterspell, but still sexy.

Ashley interrupting to inform Matt that because of her Ring of Protection, Yasha’s saving throw was actually 3 instead of 2. I LOVE HER.

I really love the moments where something truly horrible starts happening to the PCs (Yasha being turned against them, being an unwilling creature for Fjord’s thunderstep) and while the PCs are NOT happy about it, the players are stoked and excited! It’s a fun juxtaposition of the true fun of ‘what’s going on’ in the game especially when compared with the more settled RP moments where the players are in full PC mode and their personal enthusiasm is sometimes hidden by the RP. Fjord is furious with Yasha for betraying them, but here Travis is wiggling and singing “this is getting interesting!”

I’m not going to research it, and a comments check didn’t help, but I wonder how many PC rolls the Bless-that-should-have-dropped actually helped. Quick check of the livetweets for critrolestats, maybe Yasha’s saving throw against the Hand’s laughter, and the rest are Beau attacks. However, Beau had advantage on many of them, rolled consistently high, and I think actually forgot the bless a number of times? So honestly? I think even if bless had dropped correctly, things still would have played out the way they did. Oh wait...Fjord’s last hit for the HDYWTDT was because of bless. (very sad the the critrolestats livetweets did not include Ashley correcting for Yasha’s 2 to 3 for the wisdom save XD)

MIGHTY NEIN ONE SHOT ANNOUNCED AS FIRST LIVE SHOW SINCE THE PANDEMIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (though I’m seeing some people saying they’ll be level 20, but can’t find any actual statement saying what level they’ll be?? Hoping before I post this that someone will let me know)

Beau using Stillness of Mind to end fear, UGH SO GOOD. Seriously, with the new UAs and everything for the new dnd I keep hearing about how bad monks are, but I haven’t ever experienced it because Beau is so GOOD (and I haven’t played with a monk yet. Someone had done a monk/cleric multiclass, but that game ended while we were still in level 2 due to some session 0 miscommunications)

Lesser Restoration not being able to cure fear, but Greater Restoration does just seems weird to me. Like, Lesser can cure blind, deaf, paralyze, or poison. While Greater…..wait. Greater doesn’t cure frightened either! It only reduces exhaustion, ends charmed or petrified, undoes a curse, undoes an ability score reduction, undoes an effect that reduces hit point max. Fear is none of those. So, neither of the restorations RAW end fear??? Well, I guess that’s the reason for Calm Emotions.

NOTT GIVES YASHA A FLOWER FROM HER HAIR I’m having my heart being crushed by things I didn’t remember! And Jester knew that Yasha was controlled, she tried to Charm her back but it didn’t work! All I really remembered from the Nein was Jester being very sad and Fjord and Beau being very angry, I didn’t remember that others knew she didn’t have a choice!

Oh FUUUUUCK I never realized that when Fjord is brought down by Yasha, only to come back with Relentless Endurance, when he asks her “why” he asks her in his true voice. MY HEAAAART.

I know everyone mentions it, but Ashley’s exaggerated sad-face when Taliesin starts to count her then skips her for Bless, then Matt winking at her and her grin. Even when they have such heavy emotional episodes like this combat turned to be, signs like that are some of the clearest that they’re all still having a blast.

Obviously didn’t say much for the combat itself, I think my only ‘analysis’ of it is that it’s one of the higher stakes combats in C2, easily matching the level of some C1 fights. Even a good chunk into C3, C1 is still the reigning champion for most intense combats. While I don’t all into the hivemind that shouts that Matt takes it easy on them, I do think there are times when Matt is taking it HARDER on them, and this certainly was one of those combats. I really do enjoy the combats where they are fighting an intelligent and evil enemy who is fully intent on destroying them. You get such great tactics and some real creativity in those moments that you don’t get as strongly on a standard 6v1/7v1 creature combat.

Ending the episode with the side by side of Matt and Ashley as Matt gently narrates the confusion in Yasha, the uncertainty of if she is being controlled or doing this on her own, it’s beautiful, heartbreaking, and perfect. (aside from the fact that because of the table layout, they end up facing away from each other during the close ups XD Who knows, maybe that makes it more jarring to go with Yasha’s mindset?)

[thebookworm0001]

I think my favorite thing about grown-up Sarah labyrinth fics is that they almost all work on the basis that while Jareth is a wily trickster bastard, Sarah finds that incredibly hot and it’s literally only her pride that keeps her from jumping him. So all the manipulation is something that the audience knows Sarah is expecting and actually wants, though she’d never say as much. So you get all the fun of a fucked up seduction with weird ass rules and none of the icky lack of consent stuff because she’s as into it as he is.

[saturdaysky]

hello! i hope you don't mind a message, but i am just excited to see someone else who liked AMCE and would love to know if you have recs for books that are similar, because i've been thinking about it for like a month straight since i finished reading it and would love something else to occupy my brain the way that it did. no pressure to answer ofc, just happy to share good vibes over a book :)

I do not mind it at all! <3

I do have some books that scratched a similar itch as A Memory Called Empire! I looooved the thoughtful focus on culture and language and identity within an intricate setting, so these recs follow that pattern somewhat.

Under a cut because this got kind of long.

The Imperial Radch trilogy by Ann Leckie

Liked the exploration of culture, identity, and imperialism in AMCE? You will probably like these books, since they also grapple with those themes. Also present is the exploration of personhood, who has it, and who does not -- because our main character is a person who used to be a starship. Or well, sort of. Wikipedia has a decent blurb:

The novel follows Breq—who is both the sole survivor of a starship destroyed by treachery, and the vessel of that ship's artificial consciousness—as she seeks revenge against the ruler of her civilization.

These books are honestly some of my favorite books ever. They combine a really thoughtful and deliberate focus on all the stuff mentioned above, fascinating plots and world-building, and characters who absolutely made me Feel Things. Highly recommended if you like, say, emotionally closed-off and damaged characters learning to care and be cared for while also skillfully navigating an intricate web of power to pursue their goals and reckon with the harm they've caused. But with bonus smart thoughts about robots.

The Foreigner series by C.J. Cherryh

I haven't fully made my way through this series, but it's rewarding every time I sit down to read another book. The books follow Bren Cameron, diplomat to an alien court, as he negotiates the intricate web of politics and intrigue involved in making sure the crash-landed colony ship he represents doesn't get obliterated or obliterate anyone else, despite humans making some monumental fuck-ups in the recent past.

And when you live and work and eat among one people, how much do you really belong to the people you came from? Of course, neither side really trusts someone who straddles both worlds, and to cap it off, the atevi people he lives among are different from humans in a fundamental way: they have no word for friend or love because those are alien concepts to the atevi. They do not feel such things. Instead, they live by an intricate web of obligation and favors. Trust is something a little more practical and a lot more deadly, for the atevi.

But these are not heartless novels -- part of the joy is watching the main characters grow meaningful relationships, even though the form is fraught and strange and never quite means the same thing to the people on either side.

If you like slow and thorough explanations of culture where meeting with your friend's grandmother is a potentially perilous activity (because the tea might be poisoned, because she might take you on a hunting trip you won't come back from, because she's a formidable political power and might be trying to assassinate your friend, because your friend might know all of this and have sent you anyway, also your friend is the king) these are books you might like.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

If you like deep dives of culture, language, identity, and loyalty within the deadly intrigue of a fantasy court, I hiiiiighly recommend this book. The book follows Maia, the youngest and least-favored heir to the throne who gets unexpectedly crowned when everyone else in line dies and must quickly learn to survive the cutthroat politics. But Maia isn't cutthroat by nature; he is kind and must negotiate how to keep that kindness in the face of pressures that would be easy to solve with cruelty, as well as people keen to take advantage of what they think of as a weakness.

This book'll hit you with a lot of fantasy language at first (it's a focus of the book), but if you stick with it you'll be fine. You're learning all this intricate court language at the same time as our protag; he too is a little out of his depth at the start.

Steerswoman series by Rosemary Kirstein

I dearly want to go back and read these -- it's been a few years, but they absolutely sucked me in. The books follow Rowan, a steerswoman, as she tracks down the mystery of a strange and incongruous gemstone. In-universe steerswomen are basically traveling scientists and naturalists who have taken an oath of truth.

The books start out in what seems like your fairly typical Standard Fantasy Setting with wizards and dragons, but as Rowan learns more about the strange gem, it's clear that this Standard Fantasy Setting is...not as it seems. There are three things that I loved about these books: the sense of wonder and discovery as our fantasy scientist protag reasons through problems and begins to discover she lives in a sci fi world, the interesting relationship between the main characters, and the excitement you as a reader have when YOU realize exactly what mysterious object Rowan is describing and what the implications of that are for the setting.

The Broken Earth trilogy by N.K. Jemisin

Riveting series -- brutal and beautiful. Straddles the line in some respects between sci fi and fantasy. Follows characters who live on a far, far-future Earth plagued by catastrophic climate events called "Seasons" that last generations. There are some people born who have power drawn from the earth; these people are alternately hated and ruthlessly trained to hone their powers to attempt to prevent another Season. (This sort of sounds like the setup to a YA coming-of-age novel, but it is really really not.)

The world and fantastical aspects are fascinating (cyclical post apocalyptic societies! geology magic!), and the books themselves explore family bonds, racism in both a personal and systemic sense, and broken systems and the wounds they leave upon the people within them even as those people wound others. The series is not a light read, but it is a good one.

Literally anything by Ursula K. Leguin

All of her work could be recommended if you liked AMCE. Her writing spans fantasy and science fiction, and includes thoughtful and moving explorations of some similar ideas: culture and cultural exchange, gender, different societal setups, you name it.

If you're looking for a good novel, The Left Hand of Darkness is a classic for a reason. If you'd like a sample platter of interesting short stories, The Birthday of the World and Other Stories is wonderful.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

For the ask meme: Sarah x Jareth (I almost wrote that as David Bowie), 14, 22, and 29!

I am RIGHT NOW watching Labyrinth with my partners, EXCELLENT timing!  Cut for length.

14) When one has a cold, what does the other do?

Jareth has never been “sick” a day in his immortal life.  He’s been stabbed, poisoned, cursed, and hungover, but even the weakest goblin is rarely “sick” and Jareth hasn’t spend enough time around mortals to have a good grasp of the fact that nonfatal illnesses even exist.    

Point is, there’s an intermediary period between Sarah pointedly ignoring every owl in sight, no matter the coloring, and Sarah becoming the Goblin Queen where she forces him to visit the mortal world more than he has in living memory, including his.  (Jareth has a vague sense that he might have been here more often once--perhaps when he was young, before he was King--but he’s been King so long, and the Labyrinth has a chain-tight grip on its own.)  Toby is entranced, and also terrified--he doesn’t buy Jareth’s glamour for a second.  Sarah spends half her life running interference on Jareth’s behavior, and the other half doing a double major in political sciences and folklore.  Which she decided to get before she agreed to start talking to Jareth again, thank you, kindly fuck off.

Point is, eventually even Sarah’s suspiciously excellent immune system clocks out for the day, and she wakes up with a splitting headache, a wet and congested cough, and a sense that her skin is being abraded by even her softest sheets.  She’s not sick-sick, it’s just a nasty head cold with a fever, but she calls out of class and flops down on the couch and mumbles non-answers to the goblin who lives in the top of her closet when it scuttles out to see why she’s still home.

She doesn’t even realize Jareth is there until she feels a shadow fall over her and cracks an eye to peer up at him blearily.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks in his most forbidding Goblin King voice, and she groans and pulls her blanket over her head.

“Go away, Jareth, I’m tired.”

“I will not,” he says automatically as he jerks the blanket down to her shoulder, and then he’s crouching down in front of her, mismatched eyes dangerous and inhumanly bright in the yellow light of her little dorm apartment.  “Who did this to you, Sarah?  I will not leave without an answer.”

“No one,” she says, squinting up at him.  “It’s just a cold.”

“’Cold’,” he repeats, in the same skeptical way that he said ‘phone’ when she complained about his unannounced visits.  “I am not aware of that particular toxin.”

“I’m just sick, it’s not like I’ve been poisoned.”

“An illness?”  He pauses, pulls a glove off one hand and reaches out to touch her cheek experimentally.  His fingers are always cold compared to hers, and she shivers hard when he touches her skin, but he doesn’t flinch.  There’s something odd on his face, a locked-up hardness, and he says, “What is it?”

“A cold,” Sarah says again, pulling her blankets back up to her chin and shutting her eyes.  “I’m just going to feel like garbage for a few days.  Probably less if you let me sleep.  Come back and bother me on Saturday.”

He doesn’t leave.  Whatever, Sarah decides--that’s his problem.  She’s tired and feverish and annoyed and she’s going to sleep whether Jareth likes it or not.  She thinks he’s talking to someone--probably that snitch in the closet--about something--sounded vaguely like library and cold--but that’s Not Her Concern.  Sarah is done here.  She feels the end of the couch sink down by her feet just before she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, the Goblin King is still there, reading a book filched from one of her shelves, pen tapping idly against his lips--he’s marking up the fairy tales again, god, she hates his guts sometimes--and there’s a series of tidy piles on the rickety coffee table.  It looks like someone robbed a pharmacy and cleaned out their Cough And Cold aisle, and then sorted their booty by color, which suggests probably goblins just smart enough to recognize a word their king showed them, but not smart enough to read the labels.

Sarah smiles a little and grabs some cough drops from the top of the red pile, and condescends to drape her legs over Jareth’s lap before she goes back to sleep.

22) Where does their first kiss happen?

Sarah has a much harder time in college than she expected.  Not with being away from home, although she does miss Toby something awful and spends every second of her breaks with him.  No, the problem is that she has to share a room.  All the way through freshman year, she has a roommate, and--

And the roommate is fine, she’s a perfectly inoffensive girl from Chicago who keeps her things on her own side of the shoebox room they share and doesn’t bring anyone back to the room and never makes noise late at night, but Sarah hates it.  She can’t quite put her finger on why--is a little afraid of what she might say if pressed, if she’s honest.  She has these half-finished thoughts that involve words like territory and invader and mine.  Sarah has worked very hard not to be a selfish teenager or, possibly worse, the kind of girl who sometimes talks to a Goblin King and wonders privately if his final offer was serious.

Sarah has no plans to be the Goblin Queen, is the point, no matter what Hoggle mutters under his breath when she admits, the summer after her first year of college, that she’s talking to Jareth again.  (He just--he can come see her, there, and he can look like a person, and none of her other friends can, and people are weirdly nervous of Sarah, these days, and she was lonely, okay, so she let an owl into her room while her roommate was gone, and let them who never made a bad choice in college throw the first stone.)  And that means getting over herself and never voicing any of the thoughts that creep into her head about how her roommate, who has every right to sleep here, deserves to be thrown in an oubliette for disturbing Sarah’s peace.

Sarah is better than that, these days.

The only person who isn’t fooled is, of course, Jareth, who is very perceptive and also very persistently determined to visit regularly.  He smothers smirks when he sees Sarah force herself to be kind, and once offers, sweet as arsenic, to take Sarah’s roommate off her hands if you just say the right words, precious.  Sarah glares at him and pointedly turns her back, and he laughs as he leaves.  But he never does anything to her roommate, and Sarah doesn’t think about how Jareth never actually does anything to her space or anything in it, and doesn’t think about the rules that fairy tales handed down for millennia about places that fall under the power of a creature not to be toyed with.

She’s signed up to room with the same girl for sophomore year, because she doesn’t have a reason to claim a single and seniors always snap up the free ones.  But she shows up to get her key, and the registrar frowns and clicks a few things and then shrugs and hands Sarah a key.  He gives Sarah directions to one of the buildings up-campus, and Sarah goes, not particularly suspicious--she’s never been to the up-campus buildings, because people are nervous around Sarah and, while she’s manages to make a friend or two, no one really invites her back to their room.  Into their space.

Sarah opens her door and stands there, staring, mildly shocked.

Apparently, she is now the proud resident of a senior-only dorm room, one of the very tiny apartments that are supposed to house two people, with a kitchenette and a couch and everything.  There’s no one else’s name on the other door.  Sarah is late moving in, but there’s no sign of anyone here, except--

The Goblin King is sitting at the desk in the bedroom that gets the most sunlight, feet kicked lazily up on the wooden top and playing a pair of crystals between his fingers, and he smirks at her.

“I know, I know,” he drawls, vanishing the crystals with a twist of his fingers.  “I have no power over you.  But the school’s quartermaster--”

“Registrar,” Sarah corrects automatically.  He makes a dismissive gesture.  “Did you--do this?”

“Of course,” Jareth says.  “This...situation is apparently the height of luxury at this institution.  You did so despise that fluttering creature--”

“Molly was perfectly nice--”

“--and I see no reason for you to endure her for another year.”

Sarah--should really say that he’s an interfering, high-handed bastard who pretends that he has the divine right to arrange her life to his liking, and keeps rules-lawyering his way around her totally legitimate freedom from his interference.

Sarah really doesn’t want to share a room again.

“What do you want in return?”  She doesn’t even pretend that she’s not suspicious, and he puts on an offended face, bringing his feet down and pressing his lips together.

“It is a gift, Sarah.”

...oh.  Sarah blinks for a moment.  He sounds--geniunely annoyed.  Gifts are, in her knowledge of the Underground and the fae alike, serious business.

She acts without thinking, takes a step forward and tucks her hair behind her ear, and kisses the high point of his cheekbone above his frown.  When she pulls back, she sees a moment of transparent, raw shock before he orders his face into a self-satisfied and haughty raised eyebrow.

“Don’t say anything,” Sarah tells him, feeling her cheeks burn.  “If you can keep your mouth shut, this might resemble a nice moment.”

“If I had known that I could claim debts in kisses--”

“You can’t!” Sarah interrupts loudly.  “Don’t get any ideas!  Now get out and let me unpack!”

29) Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

Jareth is already thoroughly decided that Sarah is eventually going to agree to be his queen, one way or another, by the time she finally sighs and opens her window and tells the owl that if he’s very very good, and doesn’t talk to Toby, and looks like a regular person, she will speak to him just to get him to stop lurking.  He breaks all of those rules very quickly, of course, but she doesn’t kick him out--instead, she yells at him, and he puts on his coldest and haughtiest voice as he snaps back at her, and it’s fun.  Jareth never could turn down a challenge, and it’s been a long time since he faced a challenge he might lose, and just like the first time, it makes him ruthlessly determined to win.

It’s not news to him, therefore, that he loves her.

She manages to lie, obfuscate, and generally bullshit her way around admitting what she does at school for nearly three years.  But she starts writing her thesis and slips up, and Jareth is stretched on her bed in the apartment he arranged for her like he lives there when he idly picks up a piece of paper and skims her proposal and she sees his eyebrow rise slowly before he holds it up at her.

“What’s this, precious?”

“Homework,” she says flatly.

“‘Thesis Proposal,’” he reads aloud, drawling.  “‘Sarah Williams.  Proposed title: I’d’ve Et Thy Heart of Flesh: Fairy Tales as a Portrait of Royalty Through History.  Majors: Folklore and...’”  His mocking drawl pauses, and he can’t quite hide his transparent delight as he finishes the sentence.  “‘...and Political Science.’”  

When he looks up from the page, she has a stubborn set to her mouth and a bright spark in her eyes, almost angry.  “It’s not about you, you arrogant prick, I picked my majors years ago.  Give me that, I need the notes.”

“And what do fairy tales say about royalty, dearest?”

“That they’re prideful jerks who steal kids for armies and play favorites--the paper, Jareth.”

“And what do you plan to do with your degree in politics?”

“Regicide,” Sarah snaps, and jumps out of her chair to snatch the paper out of his fingers.  He lets her, and smiles at the way she blushes stark red across her cheekbones and down her throat, and wonders whether she would like the emerald ring he’s kept in his private chambers for the past three years.

Mortals have been doing diamonds, for betrothals, but he thinks green suits her better.

[tickle-bugs]

Justice League Headcanons

So...yeah. Blame @fickle-tiction and @fanficsandfluff but I can’t get JL out of my head. I know next to nothing in terms of canon and I only enjoy a handful of DC movies, so this is the beginning of what I am calling the BEU (Bug Extended Universe). 

Essentially, in the words of Nick Fury, ‘I recognize your canon, but seeing as it’s a stupid-ass canon, I have elected to ignore it :)’. A mish-mash of everything I’ve learned about DC through osmosis and my own personal vibe checks :)

This is absurdly long so everything is under the cut:

Clark Kent

- Superman? NO, Superdork. 

- He’s extremely clumsy. If he wasn’t as fast as a speeding bullet he’d get his ass handed to him ten times over. He has two left feet. 

- He has a sweet tooth like no one’s business. Lois once found him perched on the kitchen counter at 3 am eating the donuts she brought home from work. 

- Super playful and affectionate! King of bear hugs! Country boy I love youuuuuuu

- Curses like a sailor. Do you really think Clark ‘Smallville, Kansas’ Kent is wholesome? He stubbed his toe once and yelled FUCK so loud that the windows vibrated. Everyone who isn’t in the league thinks he’s a boyscout but the league knows the truth. 

- Forgets about his powers a lot. He has been known to run through walls/take doors off their hinges when he’s excited. 

- Goblin. He loves messing with Bruce and roping Barry into his schemes. 

- Clark being ticklish is actually smth that can be so personal? His laugh is so loud and he always goes ‘sorry’ and tries to be quieter but it does NOT work. He has flight instincts more than fight instincts so he often starts unconsciously floating away when he’s tickled it’s so cute. He giggles a lot and he’s not particularly embarrassed by it.

- Do NOT get me started on ler Clark I could write a dissertation. He is SO playful and teasy but also sweet? He definitely is the type to laugh along with his lee. He definitely allows any sort of retaliation/fighting back like,,, if you manage to crawl away it’s because he let you, and if he wants too, he can be very mean and immovable.

- Bruce and Barry are his favorite targets. He doesn’t go after Diana because, frankly, he doesn’t have a death wish. He loves to cause problems on purpose by squeezing Arthur’s side and then blaming it on Barry. (Hal Jordan isn’t in the DCEU Justice League but I wish he was...they’d be partners in crime <3)

Bruce Wayne

- Okay let’s clarify some things: he’s not actually an asshole. He can be abrasive and snarky but he’s more towards the sarcastic gruff side vs straight-up mean.

- A lot of people think he’s genuinely an asshole/disconnected rich guy because he has a terrible habit of zoning out/interrupting people? Bruce actually just has intense ADHD that he refuses to get diagnosed, no matter how much Alfred pushes him. He doesn’t care what people think about him and he’s mostly learned how to manage it, so he leaves it alone.

- That being said, his friendship with Barry has me :’) Yes, he thinks Barry’s a pest (affectionate), but they share a few science-related hyperfixations (robotics, chemical engineering, etc). They can frequently be found holed up in the Batcave with a week’s worth of food and caffeine, and they’re just....tinkering. Watching them at work is amazing because as much as they annoy each other, they respect each other :)

- He’s 100% a cat person. He doesn’t have a problem with dogs, he just prefers cats. He feeds the strays that hang out around the Manor all the time...

-...which Alfred begs him not to do, because Bruce is severely allergic. He thinks he can power through the allergies until one of the stray cats does the face-headbump thing and he’s incapacitated emotionally and physically for the rest of the day. 

- He severely restrains his emotions but like...catch him on a good day or in a good mood and he’ll smile and laugh, especially in friendly company. He just generally believes in maintaining a poker face so no one can read him. 

- Not to be disrespectful but...thighs. I am Looking. 

- Bruce has a wonderful laugh. He’s not much of a giggler tbh but he has this open, clear, slightly scratchy kinda laugh (his voice is permanently hoarse from the Batman Voice). It’s so lovely. He has a habit of covering his mouth bc he’s embarrassed of his smile but if he finds something very funny he’ll laugh openly. 

- Thee Batman is ticklish and he...doesn’t hate it? Like of course he protests ten ways from Sunday but he more minds the ‘guys stop you’re ruining my dark and brooding facade’ bit. He hates being teased though and he will throw hands. 

- Circling back to the emotions thing, he’s very good at controlling his reactions, which means he has thoroughly convinced everyone he’s not ticklish. Except Clark, stupidly perceptive Clark, because he can hear Bruce’s heartbeat and see the way he clenches his jaw to avoid smiling. 

Diana Prince

- WIFEY!!!!! 

- Diana is hilarious okay? She’s just...so fucking funny. Her jokes never miss. You wouldn’t think she’s the quippy type, but she is, and she’s damn good at it. In a distant alternate universe, Peter Parker senses a rival. 

- Loves fresh fruit, but especially strawberries? She makes frequent trips to the local farmer’s market. 

- She also has a raging sweet tooth. She and Clark work together to steal sweets and buy snacks. 

- Will not back down from a challenge, ever. It’s kinda a problem.

- She has such a sweet laugh :’) It’s so bouncy and melodic and she scrunches her nose. She WILL snort and it’s the cutest thing ever. Yes she’s ticklish, but no one gets more than five seconds of laughter out of her before she turns the tables. 

- World’s meanest ler. Not only is she frequently on the prowl, she is near-ruthless, especially if she’s been baited. Once she sets her sights on someone, she won’t rest until she’s heard their laugh. 

- Diana is very mischievous and loves hearing her friends laugh. It’s impossible to be in her vicinity for more than five minutes without at LEAST a few pokes. She is not above just,,, random tickles either. 

- Nails. That is all. 

Arthur Curry

- Why are his tiddies always out? Someone please explain.

- The most targeted for pranks ever. Diana especially. Something about him just attracts goblinism. 

- He’s coming for Clark’s bear hugger crown. He picks people up so often that they’re just used to it now. 

- Playfighting and roughhousing is his love language. He absolutely loves wrestling with anyone who’ll humor him. He and Diana frequently tussle because they’re both good sports about it (Bruce is a little bit of a sore loser. Just a smidge). 

- Thinks he can get away with anything, which is decidedly not true. He just nopes his way out of the room and everyone’s like D:< get back here and atone for your sins!!! But Arthur’s already in the Pacific Ocean. 

- I like to think he’s ticklish, just not super ticklish y’know? He probably has a couple hidden spots that make him lose it though. Like he’ll definitely laugh and fall over, but he can and will fight back. Oh boy, will he fight back. 

- Batman: No fear.

Diana and Arthur sneaking up behind him:

Batman: One fear. 

- Y’know that picture of Jason Momoa sneaking up behind Henry Cavill on the red carpet? That is extremely relevant. Arthur loves to sneak up behind people and just...take them down. 

- Thinks Barry is annoying (affectionate) and the two of them are constantly chasing each other around. Barry is fast but Arthur’s strong (and wayy less ticklish than Barry)

- Physical affection!! He always has his arms around someone’s shoulders or something. He’s just a touchy kind of guy :)

Barry Allen

- Speedy boy! ADHD king! Sometimes his thoughts are also at superspeed, which means he talks way too fast and no one can understand him? But Bruce speaks fluent Barry and he translates often (though not without a labored sigh beforehand). 

- Physically affectionate but casual about it? He likes to play with people’s hands while he’s talking, bump shoulders with whoever he’s next to, etc. He doesn’t really realize he does it either. It’s not uncommon for him to be talking to Clark or Diana and they just...unconsciously give him their hand before he reaches for it.

- Okay so y’know how Bruce feeds the strays? Who do you think lets them in the first place? Barry has tried to adopt every stray he comes across, and when Alfred inevitably says no, Barry runs them to the shelter himself :’)

- Gifting is his love language!!! If he sees anything that remotely reminds him of his friends, he brings it to them. 

- He likes to hang out with Victor because he’s quiet, but doesn’t mind when Barry rambles, which he tends to do quite often. Barry will catch himself rambling and trail off, but Victor will encourage him to keep going, because he’s listening. 

- Thee Pillsbury Doughboy. Just these high-pitched, bouncy, frantic giggles that only get worse and eventually morph into cackles. He hiccups a lot too :’)

- Okay so he’s not a flailer but he’s super squirmy. Barry will cling onto his ler’s arms just to hold onto something. He kicks his legs too (he does this when he’s not being tickled either, if he laughs and he’s sitting somewhere he kicks). He also just constantly tries to crawl away. If he isn’t pinned down he will drag himself to safety. He also has a habit of curling up :’)

- Absolutely invented the speed-tickle. He actually doesn’t often use his powers (unless he’s chasing down Clark, because Clark isn’t above breaking the sound barrier to escape). He’s just got incredible hand-eye coordination and precision. His hands will be absolutely everywhere and he is so teasy about it. 

- Tries not to start fights he can’t finish, but he always gets roped into Clark’s mischief and gets targeted with revenge tickles. 

- He has tickled Clark once. It was incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular. Literally his crowning achievement. Did Clark absolutely destroy him afterwards? Yes, but it was so worth it. 

Victor Stone

- Quiet and stoic, but he’s always preferred listening and interjecting with a joke or two. 

- Closest with Barry and Diana, but he’s making an effort to bond with everyone.

- Unfortunately not ticklish :( I like to think soft touches on his face will make him smile and lean away, but it’s not going to get a laugh from him.

- Doesn’t often get involved in tickly shenanigans, but when he does, he surprises everyone with how much fun he has. A different, warmer side of him comes out when he’s among his friends.

- He’s a hugger! Definitely awkward about it, but he loves hugs and just...holding his friends. 

- He collects hoodies. He can’t really feel them when he’s wearing them, but he likes them and the idea of it. Barry seems to slip him a new hoodie every week. Victor has no idea where he gets them from but he’s not complaining. 

- He is an enabler. He will look at Bruce like :| “no, I don’t know where Barry and Clark are, nor do I no what they’re planning” But they’re literally right behind Bruce, about to squeeze his sides. 

- That being said, he won’t do that with Diana. If she asks where they are, he’ll subtly nod his head in their direction. Even in jest, he will never lie to her. Which makes him Thee person to avoid when Diana’s on her mischievous streaks.

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

What about Aragorn x witch reader? The night of Helms Deep battle she helps Aragorn put on his armor and get ready and she tells Aragorn she will keep him safe and assure him that they will survive? Aragorn was everyone's emotional support that night the man needs someone to do the same for him🥺

This request is so cool! Let’s do this!

You were a bit of an odd case amongst the court of Théoden. The man had been ill, years prior to everything that was going on now. You had saved his life with an unconventional remedy and the man started asking you for more assistance. Or at least this was the story everyone was told. Your days amongst his court were typically very pleasant though. This however was one of the worst days of your life. The man that you had spent multiple years helping had betrayed you and stuck you in the dungeons. 

You paced when you were bored and when your legs were too tired you sat. Éowyn was the only thing keeping you alive, you being too frail now to even function. Fucking Grima allowed Saruman to seep into Théoden’s mind, poisoning his boy and soul. 

You laid on the floor, clinging to the only crack of sunlight you could find, unaware that Gandalf was there now with the future heroes of Middle Earth. You coughed, sick from the lack of basic human needs and struggling to remain alive. In one last poor attempt to fight you said “help”. You weren’t expecting an answer.

Gandalf turned, looking around. “Is there something wrong Gandalf?” Legolas asked. “Do you have a wizard in your court?” Gandalf asked Théoden who was now well and alive. Théoden’s eyes widened and Éowyn took off in the direction of the dungeons. The group all followed her, finding you barely breathing. “My gods.” Théoden gaped at the sight of you chained to the wall, eyes tired, skin pale. “Get this woman some water!” Gandalf demanded. A guard ran over with a pitcher of water. “It’s Grima he let--” “We know...” “Saruman has betrayed us all” “We know.” Éowyn soothed, you leaning against her. “I’m so sorry Lady Y/n.” Théoden said. “I should apologize to you my king... I let you fall into the hands of Grima, I should have been more vigilant.” You muttered. Aragorn looked in your eyes, you meeting his gaze. You seemed exhausted just by the mere act of standing. 

“Sir Aragorn can you take her to the-” Aragorn needed no further instruction, lifting you up. He walked to the healers, you still in his arms. “I’ve seen you before.” you muttered, groggily. “I do not recall when we have met.” Aragorn said. “It was not a meeting... It was a vision.” You muttered. Aragorn tensed. “You are Isildur’s-” “No. You’re mistaken, my lady.” He halted. 

Hours passed before you joined everyone in the main hall again. “Lady Y/n, it is good to see you recovered.” Théoden said as you walked. Aragorn was shocked at the sight of you. No longer were you frail, no longer were you pale and close to death, you were beautiful. Your hair was pulled back but you were a dress similar to Éowyn but it was blue, reminding Aragorn of Arwen. You stood up straight, bowing to the king. “Now for a proper introduction. This is Lady Y/n L/n of Rohan. She is our court mage.” Theoden introduced. “I do not deserve such a warm welcome your majesty.” you said softly. “Nonsense. She’s more of a daughter to me than an assistant.” Théoden said. “You speak more kindly than I deserve.” You muttered. “Y/n, where is this coming from?” Eowyn asked. “I should’ve done more than what I did to keep Grima away from the both of you.” you muttered. Aragorn noticed your eyes, sad as they looked forward. “My dear girl, an army couldn’t have swayed my way once Saruman took control.” He said. 

You still seemed remorseful, looking down. “Lady Y/n, it is an honor to finally meet the lady of the lake.” Gandalf said, Legolas gaping. You turned. “You are the Lady of the Lake?” Legolas asked. “What has earned you that title I wonder?” Gimli asked. Aragorn was equally as confused as the dwarf on the title. “You know not of the lady of the lake--” “Shh!” You hushed. Footsteps came from behind the door before it opened, two terrified looking children stepping into the hall. “These two children rode in from a village in the west.” A guard said. You frowned. “Then we are in need of evacuation.” you said. You kept a stern face, Aragorn raising a brow until you looked the little girl in the eyes and kneeled to her level. 

“What is your name?” You asked, your voice soft and expression softening. “Freda- my name is Freda.” She whimpered. You brushed the hair from her face. “The children will remain with Lady Éowyn, my lord I request that we-” “We will send our citizens to Helm’s Deep.” Théoden said. You nodded. “You will help the citizens--” “No my lord.”  you halted. He rose a brow, as did Aragorn and Legolas. “I charge with the men, you need protection outside of a sword.” you stated. He sighed. “I cannot ask this of you. It is like letting my own child go out there.” He said. “Nor can I ask you to lead towards death, for it is like sending my father to his doom.” you said simply. He sighed, Aragorn looking at you. “Then you charge with us.” He said. You nodded, turning on your heel.

The next time Aragorn saw you, you were in armor, your hair pulled back out of your face. You seemed quiet, watching the new addition to the group in silence. You rode next to Aragorn, not speaking as you listened to Gimli’s rather odd tales of home. “So your title.” Aragorn started. You looked over, nodding. “You’re referring to this ‘lady of the lake’ business I suppose.” you shrugged. “What did earn you that name?” Gimli asked. You chuckled, looking ahead at Théoden as he rode. You glanced at your wrists for a moment, them being covered by your vambraces. 

“I was almost dead. Goblins had stormed my village and nearly took my life. They left me for dead in a lake not far from it.” You muttered. Theoden looked at you with a sad look. “Something in me wanted to keep fighting. It wanted to stay alive.” Aragorn noticed that look in your eyes, it being far off and pained. “So when they least expected it, when they were removing the sword from my brother’s corpse all they saw was a woman with glowing white eyes emerge from the waters before they were struck down and killed with my powers.” You explained. Aragorn looked at the sword on your side. “Was that your brother’s then?” He asked. “Yes.” you nodded. “How did you end up with Lord Theoden?” Gimli asked. You smiled kindly to the dwarf. “I went unconscious after using my abilities. He found me, asking if I wished to stay with his niece. I said no after first but not long after he found me he fell ill. My mother taught me the ways of medicine and I nursed him back to health. After helping him his villagers started coming to me. After two years, I agreed to help him.” You answered. “You seem happy here.” Aragorn said. You looked at Éowyn who was smiling at something a villager said. “I am.” you answered. 

Aragorn liked that smile. It was beautiful, it reminded him of home. “I know of an elven woman who is skilled with water magic.” Aragorn said. “I stayed with the woman you are speaking of.” You said. He blinked. “Arwen Undomiel is the woman you are speaking of, correct?” you asked. He nodded slowly, raising a brow. “Before I lived in the village I stayed with the elves. I spent most of my time in Lothlorien but I also spent some of my time in Rivendell, learning the art of healing from Elrond.” You said. “Why not stay with your family?” Gimli asked. “Power without control is a dangerous thing sir Gimli.” you said. “You trained with us?” Legolas asked. “Yes. I have indeed met your father. Great man. Stern. But great.” you said. Legolas seemed to tense up at the mention of his father. “There are many strange things about you Y/n.” Aragorn stated. “I know. But strange and mysterious is more fun that way, don’t you think?” You asked, clearly amused by the man’s confusion. He gave you a small smile, your heart doing a small backflip as you looked at him.

“Are you close with Lady Arwen?” you asked. “She is practically my sister.” He admitted. You looked over confused. “Elrond raised me.” he said. You rose a brow. “Then how have we never crossed paths if you were in the same places that I was.” you asked. “I am much older than I appear, my lady.” He said. You looked at the man confused. “I am 87.” He said, you blinking with surprise. “You have seen many winters my lord when I have only seen 25.” you said. “You are wise for a woman who is so young.” He said, smiling. Again your heart pounded in your ears. “I have seen many things in this world that provided me with wisdom.” you told him, smiling at him. He felt this strange feeling in his chest. 

You noticed a bird in the sky, sticking your arm out so it would perch. It landed, you looking at it as you fed it a cracker from your pack. “There are enemies nearby.” you said. Aragorn rose a brow. “You’ve kept a sentinel?” He asked. “Yes I have.” You answered before lifting your arm, the hawk flying away. You drew your sword, Theoden riding off to the side instructing the men to protect and fight as best as they could. You all rode away from the group, deterring the enemy away from the refugees. 

Aragorn immediately noticed you abandoning the horse you rode in on, sending it back to the group before you swung your sword, cutting down an orc. You fought hard, Aragorn noticing your skill. But the large thing he noticed was your habit of keeping close to Théoden. By no means was the man unskilled for battle, he was fighting very well. You though, had this raw energy of fighting that seemed untouchable. 

You stabbed an enemy close to you, noticing a warg hurdling towards Aragorn before you stuck out your hand, an invisible force knocking it back out of the way of him. It seemed annoyed by your intervention, standing back up. “Shit.” you breathed as it prepared to charge. It sprinted forward, readying your blade before someone blocked for you, attacking the warg before it could hit you. You looked at him, nodding as a thank you before another warg bit your arm, dragging you as it ran. Aragorn frowned, about to stab it before he realized that his boot had latched itself to the saddle that an orc rode on. “CUT IT FREE!” you yelled, smacking the warg to make it let go. It was in vain as Aragorn made one last attempt to do as he was told before the warg launched itself off of the cliff. 

You managed to get free, cutting the loose leather strap of the boot away, pulling Aragorn close. “What are you-” “Trust me” was the last thing Aragorn heard. 

Your bodies collided with the waters, it feeling like concrete when you landed. You both washed up on shore, you being a bit more lucid than Aragorn who was still unconscious. “Spirits -o nature hear nin plea. Help nin help nin núr. Help nin help hon núr (spirits of nature, hear my plea, please help me help my people. Help me help him)” You whispered, your voice traveling on the wind before you closed your eyes. You felt something hanging over you, you looking up at a horse… the horse you sent back to the group. You pulled yourself up by the reins, lifting Aragorn up. He groggily climbed onto the horse, you doing the same before it rode on. 

You chose to rest while riding, Aragorn slowly waking up. He was leaning against something. He leaned back, his vision slowly returning before seeing you, slightly hunched over as you slept. He was grateful for you. You had saved his life taking most of that fall and he had been much appreciative of that. He noticed that peaceful look on your face, your eyes closed, hair damp from the waters of the river and cheeks slightly rosy from the cold. He held you closer, providing his body heat to keep you warm and you tensed up at first. 

It wasn’t until dusk that you actually woke up, Aragorn holding the reins to the horse. You leaned up after realizing that you had fallen asleep against him. “You’re awake.” He noticed. “Yes….” you muttered before noticing something. You leaned forward, looking at the horizon and frowning. You took the reins from Aragorn, making the horse ride faster. “Y/n, What are you doing?” He asked. “There are forces coming from the west, we don’t have much time before they reach Helm’s Deep!” you said.

So you rode, clearly worried. Aragorn couldn’t stop looking at you, something was different about you. Maybe it was the fact that you were no longer a frail woman who needed assistance to even do so much as walk. Maybe it was the fact that you were so determined to save your people from a potentially hopeless battle. Aragorn found himself admiring you. 

You rode through the lands, encouraging your horse to go as fast as it could before arriving at the gates. Éowyn was overwhelmed when she saw you, her hugging you on sight. “You’re alive! I knew it!” She said. “Where is Lord Théoden?” you asked. “He is in the hall, Y/n I don’t think he--” “Forces are coming and fast. We must fight, we do not have a choice.” you said before walking past her. You shoved the doors open, walking into the hold. “Lady Y/n!” Théoden gasped, hugging you. “The people are in danger my lord, we must fight. We have no choice” You said. “We do not have the men-” “Then we must call for aid my lord, we have to do something!” you said, urging him to fight. “Y/n, you act as if we have resources to do so.” he said. “We do, we can ask for Gondor’s aid!” you said. “Gondor!?” “Yes my lord! If we call for aid-” “Calling Gondor would be useless.They will do nothing!” He said. “My lord if we fight with only our men we risk leaving them all to die.” You said. He let out a frustrated sigh. “If you do not wish to call for aid then I could-” “No.” He halted you. You frowned. “Sire, our people need protection, if you would just let me-” “I will not allow you to do that Y/n, do not press this any further.” Théoden halted. “Sire-” “I REFUSE Y/N, NOW STOP!” He yelled. You swallowed hard, Aragorn looking at you as you pushed past him and walked out. 

You started taking off your arm braces, Aragorn walking after you. “Y/n, there may yet be hope.” He said. You shook your head. “So long as it is only our men that charge, there is no hope for survival sir Aragorn.” You breathed, braiding your hair. He frowned, putting a hand on your shoulder. “There is still hope Y/n, if you would trust me.” He said. You looked in his eyes, before looking down. “There is one last thing that we can do my lord…” you said with a sigh. You looked at your wrists, the markings of chains embedded on your skin. “What is that?” He asked. You looked at him and shook your head. “I am… Not what you believe me to be.” You told him. “What is it that you mean?” He asked. “My lord I am not in Théoden’s court as a healer or a sorceress.” you said. He raised a brow. “Then what are you there for?” He asked. “I am a weapon.” you answered. 

He looked at you. “I am not to use my abilities unless it is life or death for it may kill me.” You admitted. Aragorn frowned. “Then no, we will not use that.” He said. “We have no choice, if it is my life for hundreds then so be it.” you said. “I cannot lose you!” He said. “Why? Because you care for me!? I care too much for my people than to sacrifice their winning chance because you decided to feel something for me.” you snapped. He sighed, closing his eyes. “If we lose you, who’s to say that sacrifice would not be in vain?” He asked. You sighed. “I must try Aragorn. Even if it does kill me.” you said softly. He closed his eyes and you put a hand to his cheek.

“Im am sorrui an what cin lothron lose Aragorn. But know i whatever does happen. Im ceri- care an cin. (I am sorry for what you may lose Aragorn. But know that whatever does happen... I do care for you.)” You said softly. He opened his eyes, looking at you. “I should find the armory.” you said, clearing your throat and leaving.

Hours had past, the sun was falling on the horizon and war was creeping closer. You had remained in the armory, watching children who shouldn’t be prepping to die, prepare for death. You looked over, Aragorn putting on his armor in silence. You walked over, tightening a strap he couldn’t reach. He cleared his throat. “Are you really… going out there?” he asked. “Unless a miracle happens then I will make whatever sacrifice I have to.” you muttered. Aragorn looked down, clearly saddened by this. First he lost a woman who was practically his sister by sailing away to the Undying Lands. Now he was losing someone all over again. 

You heard a loud horn, looking up confused. “That is no orc horn.” Legolas noticed. You rushed off with Aragorn, walking out to see elves. You paused, looking at the sight in front of you. “Who… called for aid?” You asked, looking at the elven general. “I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together.” Haldir said. Aragorn smiled. “We come to honor that allegiance.” Haldir added. “Mae govannen, Haldir. (Welcome, Haldir)” Aragorn greeted. He hugged the man, earning a small smile from you. “You are most welcome!” Aragorn said clearly relieved by the man’s presence alone. 

Morale boosted greatly as you continued to prepare for war. Théoden found you putting on your breastplate. “Y/n… a word.” He said. You turned around. “Yes, my lord?” you asked. “I apologize for yelling at you earlier, it was wrong of me.” He said. He noticed you didn’t put on your vambraces. “Are you planning on using your abilities?” he asked. You swallowed. “...I saw those forces Théoden… There’s too many… We will lose.” you muttered. “...Do what you think is best.” He said after a long silence. You looked up. “Sire-” “you have always done what was best for our people. You’ve fought strongly and bravely and when I said you were like my daughter, I meant it.” Théoden said. “Sire… Do you think I should use my abilities?” you asked. “I think you should only use them in a moment you think it’s truly needed.” He said. You nodded before he walked out. 

You walked to the wall, standing next to Aragorn. “You seem a bit more confident.” you muttered, looking at the man as he adjusted his boot. “Indeed. We have more aid.” he said. “Aragorn I..” you sighed and shook your head, him raising a brow. “Y/n if you wish to say something I’d advise you to say it before we possibly die.” he said. You rolled your eyes. "Great job on boosting the morale sir Aragorn." You muttered. "Speak now or forever hold your peace." He said sarcastically. You sighed. "... You've been pleasant to be around. And I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. I want you to know that whatever happens out there… I'm glad that I am fighting next to you. And I'm glad that I knew you." You said to him. Aragorn rose, looking at you. You faced the battlefield, trying to ignore the gaze of the man. 

Course that became more difficult to ignore when Aragorn pulled you into a kiss. You sunk into it, your heart beating in your ears as you nearly collapsed into the man's arms. "I am glad to have you with me." He said softly. You nodded slowly before he walked off to investigate the other groups on the walls. 

Rain poured around you as twilight finally set and you could see the forces approaching. Aragorn soon came back to a place on the wall, looking at you as you stared at the forces gathering and then the chain tattoo on your wrists. Aragorn looked at you before taking your hand. You looked at him and then turned back to the battlefield. You had a dagger in your freehand, you looking at your wrist and then the battlefield again. "....Aragorn?" You muttered. He looked over. "Hmm?" He asked. "Thank you for being here." You said softly. He smiled and you looked back at the battlefield. You slid the dagger back into your holster, looking at the orcish army before you.

Perhaps you would live to see another day.

[monstersandmaw]

Male orc (Vilugh) x male reader (sfw) - Part Two

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This should have gone up on here yesterday, and has been available on my $5 Patreon tier for a week as the fourth ‘early release’ story on Patreon in July (every Wednesday).

You may recall the first chapter that I posted as an unedited WIP (Tumblr link) a while ago and had lots of encouraging comments about and some interest in seeing more from Vilugh and the prince. So, here it is! Sorry it's a bit late - things have just been nuts here lately. I wanted this to be the final chapter, but... plot happened. So... there'll be more in the future!

Content: continuing on from last time where our scholarly prince with the unfathomably dickish king for a father was told he was going to spend six months with the orcs, we see Vilugh again, meet his sister, and finally, get to the encampment. (tw: brief mention of past death of reader’s older brother, and constantly being compared to him by the aforementioned dickish king...)

Wordcount: exactly 4000. *nice*

Part One

To say that I was furious with my father for only deigning to inform me of my new situation for the next six months would have been an understatement. I knew I wasn’t the ruler-son that he’d envisaged taking over from him, but I had thought that my rather impressive record for strategy and tactics spoke for itself, not to mention that I was responsible for almost single-handedly planning and instigating massive economic reforms that not only refilled the monarchy’s gradually-dwindling coffers but promoted trade and gave our floundering, stagnating economy a huge boot up the backside. And yet, still, I was not enough. I was not my brother.

Fuming, I strode along the corridors from the great hall up to my chambers and nearly flattened a poor serving girl as she left one of the rooms along the way. “I’m sorry,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Highness,” she chirped, dipping into a curtsy and scurrying away before I could explain myself.

My reputation had gone from ‘scholar prince’ to ‘Royal Monk’ by the time I was twenty five, but I was also known for being moody and sullen, with a perpetual scowl on my lean - I thought gaunt - face. No wonder I’d frightened her. As I stared in the speckled mirror in my bedroom, I saw a face and body that would hardly impress the orcs to whom I was about to be packed off like a spare bit of cargo for six months. Why? What what did my father have to gain from sending me to a group of people who, until my teenage years, had been our enemies? They weren’t exactly our best friends now either.

The orcs right across the continent had begun to think about trade with us since Khraxh and her warband had first agreed to peace talks, and while the mountain orcs were still ferociously opposed to any kind of truce or trade talks with the soft, plains- and forest-dwelling humans, Khraxh had clearly seen the advantages that at least a ‘polite understanding’ would have with us. We had the monopoly on iron ore with our goblin-run mines to the east, and due to our superior charcoal burning techniques, we were able to forge steel like almost no one else, save perhaps the goblins themselves.

Goblins, like humans, had a long and turbulent history with orcs. Historically, encounters between the two peoples mostly ended in absolute annihilation of entire goblin communities by the larger and stronger orcs - hence their very slight preference for dealing with humans. It really was only a slight preference, however. Goblins were wary and untrusting of most folks, but it was understandable. They were a skittish, intolerant folk, quick to be offended and even quicker to give it.

Staring into that age-freckled mirror, I saw my lacklustre, pale skin, with no distinguishing features, save perhaps for my mother’s dark eyes and a slightly hooked nose. Where Dannan had been the golden boy of our family - qujite literally with his curly blond hair - I was the proverbial and, of late, the literal, dark horse. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark expression…

Needless to say, I got little sleep that night, which added to the dark shadows beneath those dark eyes. I turned it over and over as I lay amid the fine silk sheets. In the end, I came to the rather unsettling conclusion that my father hoped I wouldn’t survive my time with the orcs so that he could install someone like my cousin Balgrun on the throne after his demise. Not that anyone imagined that a king as tenacious and bitter as my father would ever give up his hold on life; he was simply too stubborn to die, I was sure of it. True, I was useful, but I was not a leader. I honestly crumbled to a trembling, stammering, sweating mess if I had to address the public myself, and I considered more than three people to be an abhorrent crowd. He’d raised me to be the shadow to my brother’s light, and I fulfilled that role too well to be trained to shine in public now.

Gritting my teeth the next morning, I stood on the sweeping steps of the royal castle, awaiting the arrival of the orcs.

The squeal of a war boar from the far side of the castle’s curtain wall announced their presence before the trumpets and shouts did. I drew a deep breath and kept my skinny hands folded behind my back. No need to let them see me shaking. The king emerged from the doors behind me and fixed me with his usual, emotionless glower. “Don’t embarrass me, son,” he muttered under his breath. “They do us great honour by taking you to the heart of their lands for so long a time.”

I raised my eyebrow. My mother had been able to do that, according to Rigmore. The castle steward and she had apparently been good friends, and when I had learned to do it, he had laughed and said I was the picture of my mother. Naturally, I did it around my father whenever I could just to rile him up. “Tell me, father,” I said with carefully controlled coolness in my voice. “What exactly do you hope to achieve out of my royal stay with — what was it you called them yesterday? — oh yes… ‘those beasts’.”

His lip curled and his eye twitched. “You will do well not to repeat that, boy,” he snarled.

I laughed and shook my head. “Out of the two of us, I seem to be the only one who values my hide, father. Fear not though, I have no intention of pissing off my captors.”

“Captors? Guardians, more like. The honour of hosting the son of the most powerful king on this continent will not be lost on them,” he said fervently, grey eyes drifting to the portcullis and main entrance to the bailey behind me.

“Surely you had some mission in mind for me then?”

“Win them over with that naive charm of yours,” he said dismissively, still not looking at me. “You could have charmed your way into the beds of half the nobility of this kingdom, despite your… physique… Fuck them if you have to,” he said in a hiss in my ear, “But I want them in an advantageous trade deal by the end of next spring. Butter them up, win their trust, and we’ll have the brutes in our pockets.”

“And if I don’t manage that?” I asked.

His eyes flashed. “Then you really aren’t of any use to me at all, are you?”

It wasn’t a wholly unexpected answer. The man was always the king before he was my father, but still, I barked out a loud and undignified laugh just as the orcs entered amid a clatter of cloven trotters and squealing war beasts, feeling empty and hollow. “Goddess be merciful,” I cursed. “You just want me out of the way while you wine and dine Balgrun in my absence. Oh yes,” I chuckled back at him over my shoulder, practically skipping down the stairs and strangely looking forward to my six month ‘holiday’ from the backstabbing and conniving of the castle. “I asked around; I know you’re asking my dear little cousin to stay. Perhaps you can show him the ropes in six months, and perhaps the orcs will decide I’m more useful as a toothpick than a diplomat, and you’ll have a reason to go to war with them again, wipe them off the plains, and then nothing will stand in your way between the coast and the mountains.”

And with that, I left him sputtering on the steps, his face a rather nasty puce colour. I’d figured out his alternative plan, and if he thought for a moment I was going to let him have it, he was a dotard.

“Greetings,” I said, addressing Vilugh in the common Trade Tongue. “Regrettably I have not had the chance to learn your language yet, otherwise I would have greeted you in your own tongue.”

The orc swung down from his boar and dropped the reins to the flagstone floor, ground-tying the beast the same way I might have ground-tied my mare. Starling was, to my relief, already saddled and ready for me, standing with her bridle in the hands of a groom and stamping her hoof in anticipation of an outing.

Vilugh was every bit as colossal and imposing as I remembered him from the last time I’d seen him, if not more so. I knew he had to be ten years or so older than me, and if he was thirty five, he was still in his absolute prime. His green-skinned chest was largely bare, save for the leather strap that reached diagonally from one hip to the opposite shoulder, holding up the leather hunting skirt that hugged his hips and hid very little from the imagination. He didn’t have the defined abs of the veiner fighters I’d seen who liked to show off their lean, oiled bodies for the attention of the crowd, but his middle was packed with solid fat and muscle that spoke of the strength of two or three oxen. His thighs could have crushed one of our warhorses to a bloody slurry if he’d fancied trying, and his hands were as big as the buckler shields favoured by fancy duellers in the city. Small for a shield, but very big for a hand.

His eyes were still that unnerving black that I recalled from my youth, and they were every bit as perceptive as I remembered too. He raked his gaze up my slim form, no doubt also cataloguing my physical features and sartorial preferences. That day I had chosen simple buckskin leggings, suitable for long distance riding, and a loose, linen shirt. My hair was tied back in a practical style at the nape of my neck, and across the front of my saddle, I had instructed my servant to tie a leather hunter’s jerkin for when evening drew in and it inevitably got much colder. In my saddlebags I had had simple, comfortable clothing packed, with none of the fripperies and fineries with which a prince might be expected to travel. Orcs were a pragmatic and practical people, and having a whiny prince demanding to stop for wine and grapes halfway there would win me no favours with them.

“We can teach you to speak orcish if you want,” Vilugh said in a voice like a rock slide.

I couldn't help but grin at the chance to learn something else, and nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that. I can’t promise to be any good, but I’ll try.”

To my surprise, Vilugh laughed. “From what I hear, you’re a quick learner, prince. You’ll catch on quick enough I reckon.”

Relief washed through me. The warrior was polite and had a sense of humour. As much as my father’s court frustrated me, I knew where to tread there, and how far I could push and poke before I risked too much. With the orcs, I had no idea yet what might provoke them or amuse them. I also had no idea how they felt about this arrangement, or how my presence among them would be received.

“If you’d like to rest or feed your mounts, and seek the same for yourself, then please make yourselves comfortable, otherwise I’m ready to leave whenever you are.” I left it up to him to decide, and after a quick look at my father, still standing on the castle steps like a lone lion on a rock while hyenas prowled below, Vilugh shot me a look of a different calibre.

“These boar can ride all day without stopping for food or water; three days without rest,” he said in a measured voice, walking at my side and casting my entire body into shadow with his immense height and breadth.

He was testing me, and I didn’t fall for it. “And yet the ride from your mother’s bastion is four days from here,” I replied with the same even tone.

Vilugh’s eyes glittered with amusement. “The piss you people drink for ale should be enough for now.”

It was easy enough for me to take a chance on his sense of humour with my father’s bowmen lining the walls and the honour guard ranged up the stairs nearby. “For you or for the boars?” I quipped, turning away and inviting him to follow me.

Again, the massive - and honestly quite intimidating - orc let out a long, loud belly-laugh of amusement. “Hay will do for the boars just now, though they prefer meat when they can get it.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I muttered.

The boars were seen to, and I led Vilugh and the two other orcs who had accompanied him up to meet my father. Neither Vilugh nor his fellow warriors bowed or bent the knee to my father I was pleased to note, and it got my father’s hackles up like a like a bristling tomcat. I almost could have kissed the enormous warrior just for putting my father on the back foot already, but honestly, what did he expect? Did he think the orcs would prostrate themselves before him? They’d hardly done that last time, so I couldn’t imagine he’d be so conceited as to think they’d do it this time.

“Your majesty,” Vilugh said.

“Welcome,” my father said, his tone more tightly-clipped than the box hedge in the castle’s knot garden. “Will you be staying for some refreshments before you return to your people with my son?”

“Just long enough to give the boars a breather,” Vilugh said with easy diplomacy.

The other warriors he’d brought with him were the older, one-armed orc I’d skittered away from as a child, and a female I didn’t recognise but who had the most incredible, blue eyes I’d ever seen. Vilugh must have caught me admiring her in the great hall because he leaned in close and growled without real sting, “Stare too long at my sister and she’ll most likely cut out your eyes, princeling.”

“I was just admiring hers,” I yipped quickly, regretting the rather boyish note to my usually hoarse tenor. “Blue eyes are not so common in these parts, that’s all. I meant no offence by it.”

Seated beside him at the table, she leaned close to her brother and barked something in orcish at him. He looked briefly back at me, and then responded in the same. They conversed for a moment and I sat there with my spine dead-straight and my jaw clenched. When Vilugh turned back to me, he grinned. “Rhana says that if the pretty human princeling wants to stare at her, he can, but he’ll have to answer to her wife when we get back.”

“Far be it from me to come between an orc and her wife,” I chuckled anxiously.

When Vilugh translated, they both laughed and Rhana reached behind her brother and cuffed me on the shoulder hard enough that I was almost sent reeling off my seat and onto the floor, which got another laugh out of them and drew a glare of daggers from my unnerved father. Good. Let him be baffled that I was already getting along with these warriors like soldiers in the barracks. He’d clearly not expected me to have any idea how to behave around them, but while I didn’t spend my spare time in our own guards’ barracks, I observed the way everyone in the castle interacted with each other. It was what I’d been trained to do, after all: notice things and remember them.

All in all, the orcs didn't linger long, and we were on our way within an hour.

The pace of the first few hours of the ride alternated between a brisk walk and trotting, though my mare jogged excitedly for the first hour of that until I finally convinced her that we were in it for the long haul. The grooms kept her fit and well-schooled since I couldn’t step away from the castle regularly enough to do it myself, but by the end of the day, even my indomitable Starling was beginning to flag. I patted her neck and murmured that we’d probably break camp soon, and, sure enough, we did.

Once a small fire was lit, with the dry twigs of plains brush-scrub, and carefully warded in a low pit to stop it spreading across the arid plain, I drew out my rations from my saddlebag and Vilugh shot me a look of mild surprise.

“What?” I asked, nervous that I’d committed some inadvertent transgression by digging in before they’d started eating.

After a moment, the orc heaved himself down onto the ground beside me, long, black plait thwacking against his back at the motion. Then he said almost conspiratorially, “You’re not what I was expecting.”

Unwrapping the bread and hard cheese from their waxed linen wrappings, I frowned. “Just what were you expecting, might I ask?”

He shrugged a massive shoulder and drew out a similarly wrapped parcel - much larger - with dried meat and a hard looking biscuit that I thought would probably crack my own teeth before it broke. “Honestly… going off the last time I saw you, and from what your father said of you in talks with my mother… I thought you’d be a fragile little bird. You’re not.” He looked at me, dark eyes glittering in the fire like polished onyx and added, “You are skinny as a bird, but you’re not weak.”

“How would you know?” I scoffed. “I could be too weak to draw my sword. It could just be strapped to my waist for show…” In fact, it was now unbuckled and lying behind me with my saddle and bags, while Starling was hobbled nearby and looking rather disdainfully at the slim grazing afforded by the scrubland where we’d paused. Finest high-summer hay, it was not.

“You move like a dancer,” he said, and I immediately choked on a breadcrumb.

He had to slap me on the back and offered me a skin of water. I washed the offending clog down and gawped at him. “What would you know about human dancers?” I asked without thinking.

“I’ve travelled to the cities on the coast,” he said. “They dance in the marketplaces on festival days.”

“Oh,” I said. And then my cheeks flushed. “I’m not… You know… those dancers are… uh… paid to do more than dance… shall we say.”

It took Vilugh a moment to catch on, but he seemed embarrassed at his mistake. “I meant no insult by it,” he said. “They’re very beautiful.”

“That they are,” I admitted. My father had tried to entice three of them into bed with me after one evening spent in the company of one of his duchesses, but when I’d shown more interest in her library than her twittering prostitutes, he’d given up. Apparently the finest courtesans in the land weren’t going to make me proper man in his eyes, so it wasn’t worth trying.

Vilugh must have seen my memories swirling across my face, because he didn’t bring it up again, and we ate in a rather awkward silence after that. The orcs drew lots for the watch, and Vilugh drew the first and insisted that as their guest, I should not be expected to deprive myself of sleep. Plus, apparently, the next day’s riding would be harder and he didn’t want me falling out of my saddle when I dozed off. Also orcs’ eyes were more like cats’ eyes in the dark, I discovered, when I looked up and saw Rhana’s glinting at me from across the fire and nearly had a heart attack. She laughed and wished me pleasant dreams.

Taking their well-meaning jibes in my stride, I nodded and bedded down in my humble bedroll. It was the type that hunters used, made of breathable buckskin and lined with fleece to keep off the chill of the plains, and although I’d only spent one or two nights in it in my life, I slept better that night than I had in years, not waking until Vilugh's surprisingly gentle touch at my shoulder stirred me not long after dawn.

Over the course of the next few days, Starling developed a comical rivalry with Rhana’s boar, the two taking every opportunity to bite or scuffle with each other, though it never seemed to get truly vicious enough for either of us to worry about, so we let it play out to our amusement. Perhaps because of that and perhaps because I just simply liked them for their gruff honesty, by the time the wooden palisade walls of the orcish war-band’s permanent stronghold drew into view on a wind-blown hilltop, I felt relatively comfortable with the three orcs who had been sent to fetch me.

The older one with one arm was called Rhakak, and was apparently Vilugh’s cousin. He was taciturn and unflinching, watchful and grim, but not aggressive towards me. I still gave him a wide berth though.

But if I’d thought Rhakak was intimidating, it was nothing to Vilugh's mother.

I remembered her from her visit to the castle, but nothing could quite have prepared me for the sheer presence the matriarch had amongst her own people. She was standing waiting for us as we rode up to the walls of the stronghold, and even though Vilugh had told me that Khraxh wouldn’t hold me to the same etiquette as she would a visiting orc, I still nearly shat my pants in fear when I got off Starling’s back and found her surveying me with a distinctly unimpressed look on her weathered, beautiful face.

She really was beautiful. Her body was honed and muscular, but her movements were sleek and efficient, and in much the way a war galley cuts through the water and bristles with power, so she moved with the dormant power of a life-long warrior. Her long, thick hair had turned grey in the intervening decade since I’d seen her, and she’d lost half a tusk too, but the way the gathered orcs arranged themselves around her reminded me of a wolf and her pack. She commanded absolute obedience in them, and unyielding loyalty. In that moment, I did feel afraid, and suddenly very much not up to the seemingly impossible task I had been set.

With a rather endearing patience, Vilugh had taught me the phrase to speak in orcish upon meeting her, and once I could finally get my tongue around the complex vocal gymnastics of the orcish language, he said I would not be flayed alive for completely embarrassing my tutor.

Thus, upon our first meeting, I nearly sprained my jaw, but I gained perhaps a modicum of respect from the veteran war chief. As the three orcs sent to the castle to fetch me had now bowed, neither did I, but I did incline my head as I spoke. There was no need to act like a prideful brat after all.

If my father was expecting me to make enemies of these people and inadvertently lure them into killing me and sparking a war, then I was bloody well going to do the opposite. I wasn’t a warrior, but I had my mind, and I was damned if I was going to fuck things up and go down in history as the skinny little prince who kicked off the orc-human conflict all over again.

Humble but not meek, studious but not annoyingly curious, polite but not obsequious, opinionated but not obnoxious… I began to feel my way through the stronghold’s hierarchy, and miraculously survived my first week there without insulting anyone.

One week down, twenty three more to go…

___

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[heeytwelve]

"That’s practically my type”

I remember someone really smart in internet was debating that Draco Malfoy has 100% chance to be Harry Potter’s boyfriend, cause he is, in fact his type. And if we look at Harry’s girlfriends, we kinda see the pattern (quidditch, outspoken, bravery, and have I mention quidditch? ).

But anyway, this post not about those, this post about how Chosen One of Carry On universe has his type too and why Agatha wasn’t just mistake of adolescence and how he changes his views on Baz when he become actively infatuated with him.

“I’ve wanted her since the first time I saw her—walking across the Great Lawn, her long pale hair rippling in the wind. I remember seeing her and thinking that** I’d never seen anything so beautiful.** And that if you were that beautiful, that graceful, nothing could ever really touch you. It would be like being a lion or a unicorn. Nobody could really touch you, because you wouldn’t even be on the same plane as everyone else. Even sitting next to Agatha makes you feel sort of untouchable. Exalted. It’s like sitting in the sun. So imagine how it feels to date her—like you’re carrying that light around with you all the time.

Let’s elaborate. He doesn’t fall in love with her - because of her academic success or because her parents rich or because she’s kind and caring. The type of attraction that works for Simon is so called - aesthetic attraction, attraction to beauty. 

And before you blame him for being shallow, I say, having strong preference for beauty is quite common among the artistic people, who grew up in desperate poverty, in small provinces, poor houses where beauty is rarity (for instance, famous ballet dancer Rudolph Nureyev was obsessed with beauty and collected a huge amount of beautiful things, because his poor childhood traumatised him). And, contrary to popular belief, Simon might have artistic tendencies, he sees beauty even dark creatures (goblins, *cough-cough* vampires), movements, colours and music.

Beauty for Simon is not a static thing to watch and enjoy the view, it’s not something he just want to own, it’s a force. Beauty protects him, it makes him untouchable, like nothing from of his previous (poor and mundane) life can touch him anymore, because he carrying the light, darkness will never reach him again. Agatha is not only his future, but also his shield. But - maybe it’s the same thing? Having future all sorted kinda shielding you from whatever you bump into.

He always mention her appearance whenever he talks about her - her clothes, her skin (”sparkles like she’s fairy”), her hair (multiple comparison with sun, light and halo). And when he decides to ignore the fact, that she quite possible betrayed him, it’s not only because he fear uncertain future but:

“She’s beautiful. And I want her. I want everything to be fine.”

Beauty as an attraction, beauty as a shield. Beauty is stability.

Now, before we talk about what all of this has to do with Baz, let’s bring up this quote:

“Like when I used to dream about becoming a footballer someday—or that my parents, my real parents, were going to come back for me.… My dad would be a footballer. And my mum would be some posh model type. ...

But we always missed you, Simon,” they’d say. “We’ve been looking for you.” And then they’d take me away to live in their mansion.”

I know, you probably roll your eyes now, like it’s stereotypical thing for poor kid in care to dream of, but isn’t that interesting, that Simon practically give us description of his future boyfriend and girlfriend as his dream parents? Now, don’t get me wrong, there is now perversion here, it’s just people he dreams to be with. People who potentially get him out of this awful reality and of course he will imagine them as the best people he can imagine - hence attraction to exactly those people. Now, we already know, that Agatha is beautiful as a model and she’s posh -Simon dwells how she good with regattas, polo matches, galas and he’s not posh enough for it. And right there, in next sentence, he mentions the only person who’s fit this interior - Baz. And let’s not forget about this:

“Baz walked into our room, much taller than me—and posher than everyone.”

There’s two interesting thing you notice when you will read Simon’s view for Baz. Simon never hesitates to use bold colours to describe how good Baz is. He never even doubts it, and Simon is not in submissive mode by any means. It’s just with Agatha - he sees the beauty and he admires it. But because Baz is evil, a threat (and potentially because he convinced that he’s heterosexual) AND Simon can’t just go in “I want him” mode, like he did with Agatha.  There’s a big quote above about how Simon met Agatha and here’s one about how Simon met Baz:

“and Baz was walking towards me. Looking so cool. Like he was coming my way because he wanted to, not because there was a mystical magnet in his gut.”

Though, it is looks, Simon talks about, I want to emphasise, that while Simon is not in active infatuation phase with Baz, he still unleashes his other attraction type, attraction to power/strength. Here and in quote below he indicates one of Baz biggest powers - ability to look unfazed and perfect no matter what. Power of composure.

“but he looked fine to me—not a hair out of place. Typical.”

Back to father being footballer. One might wonder, why violinist and person so into academic success went to be the lead player in sports team? All popular movies tell us that you either this (nerd) or that (jock), and Baz suddenly both. Because he’s perfect. And because he has his personality and vampire personality. One might also wonder, had Baz overheard Simon’s obsession about being footballer/football in general before deciding to enrol to the team and collect all trophies... Anyway. Baz as footballer:

“He’s the same on the field as he is everywhere else. Strong. Graceful. Fucking ruthless.”

If you ask me, this is where Simon shows a bit his infatuation. Yes, attraction to strength, even ruthlessness (Simon is a fighter, he does appreciate good fighter too). But graceful - is about beauty. You see, I think, maybe because Simon carries traditional values he kinda does that thing: women’s modus operandi is beauty, men’s - strength, ruthlessness. Same with his parents - mum is model, father is fighter footballer. That’s ok.  BUT when he starts to consider (even at the back of his mind) Baz as a romantic partner (it’s all starts when he sees that Baz is not a monster, that he’s a boy), he starts to notice his beauty more, than strength.

“He floats out over the moat and lands on the other side. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Infamous jeans scene, where Simon talking about Baz’ clothes (like he did w/Agatha) and literally checking out his arse:

“they do look like really expensive jeans. Dark. And snug from his waist to his ankles without looking tight.”

He starts to watch him aesthetically:

“I put my hand on his chest. I don’t have to step any closer to reach him. ... Baz swallows and licks his grey-pink lower lip. .. “he throws one of his pillows into my face. (It smells like him.)

“I’m watching him read—I swear he sucks on his fangs when he’s thinking.

The culmination of this development comes with “vampire club scene”:

““Every one of them must be so jealous of him. He’s everything they are, plus magic. Plus he looks the part, like he was born to be some sort of dark king.”

“Those vampires were in awe of you,” I say. “They wanted to put a crown on your head.

He has the skills AND he is royally beautiful. And Simon projecting his feelings to those night club vampires. The longer they in relationships, the more Simon dwelling on Baz beauty, just to show you this development, I’ll quote WS for a moment:

“I’ll be damned if he doesn’t look half glamourous. Like a boy Marilyn Monroe.… My brain gets kind of stuck on “boy Marilyn Monroe” for a while.”

...

“Baz casts his eyes down and smiles—girlishly, I would have said, but on him it’s not girlish. It’s, I don’t know, vulnerable.”

To elaborate, Marilyn Monroe is depiction of feminine beauty in popular culture and description of Baz as a bit feminine is something that would never happen in the beginning of “Carry On” setting. Of course, Baz opened up more to Simon (and this is important), but also Simon willing to see, no, he actually quite hungrily looking for this beauty. He is attracted to this kind of beauty AND I think, might be cause of his somewhat traditional views, he automatically looking for this in Baz, when he considering him as a partner. 

BUT. Again as in WS - Baz being powerful and strong AND that being attractive (and arousing) to Simon is not going anywhere.  So Simon’s type qualities - strength and beauty. (Not smartness and kindness, sorry Penny) though he does appreciate it.  And lastly, let’s go back to Agatha. We talked about her beauty, but she’s also an athlete. A competitive one. 

“I smile again and jump up off the bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a purple sweatshirt that says WATFORD LACROSSE. (Agatha plays.)”

This sweatshirt Simon will proudly wear even in WS (Baz haven’t confiscated them yet :D ) - and if you think about it, it’s the way to show admiration too. And don’t forget the horse sports, she’s even more into sports than Baz (Baz would spend his summer practicing languages and violin - I believe his main passion, and football is just to unwind and fuck w/Simon, while Agatha would harvest prizes or skills in competitions). OK, no, he does play tennis :D So yes - as absolutely legit Simon’s type - Agatha do has these two qualities. They both do. Though not exactly in same proportions. Agatha radiates beauty, feminine beauty, you don’t have to watch closely to see it, it punches you in a face. But Baz is more powerful, as with Agatha, you don’t have to search for his power, it’s just there. And maybe this shift in quality proportions is what Simon needs at the end. But he certainly needs both. And let me finish this lenthy dwelling off with Baz quote, where he accidentally compares himself tells us this qualities proportions in Agatha:

“Wellbelove isn’t very powerful, but she’s gorgeous.”

There is interesting awareness between these two, but I will have a mercy and talk about it later.

[rosepetalwings]

Oh I'm More Than Glad To Talk About Deeprune

ok so lets run through the au in sections

DEEPRUNE

Story:

The cast are now all mythological mermaid/siren creatures.

The Light World is the epipelagic zone (and upper half of mesopelagic zone) of the ocean and live in ignorance of the strange creatures that look as they do in the twilight below...

Dark World is mid-mesopelagic and below, full of frightening sea creatures those so blessed to live in sea reef coral homes could never hope to fathom... and should never hope to meet.

One day, one of the 4 kings of the ocean basins drew help from a powerful, unknown force and imprisoned his peers at the bottom of the deep sea trenches... And to this day, he rules his little area, biding his time for the day the Dark can take over the Light.

That is, of course, unless a very human looking siren, a sea crocodile tough girl, a bioluminscent jellyfish(?) fluffy boy, and a villainous... cloaked hybrid thing can fulfill a very familiar prophecy...

Locations:

Light Zone

Hometown - A bright and cheerful coral reef with a good amount of merfolk in the community.

School ‐ Building constructed out of stone and hidden amongst normal marine foliage and coral. Normal congregations of school akin to what the land-dwellers (or terrans, as the merfolk might call them) do for their own children.

Hospital ‐ Made in the same way as the school and serves the same function as its land counterpart. The hospital does have different instruments to serve its marine patients, however.

QC's diner - Hidden under a rock shelf and is more of an open seating arrangement. Fan coral serves as a sort of decorative barrier to keep the seating plan from being too open.

ICEE's p"e"zzeria - Incredibly conspicuous and placed between the brightest coral on the reef for the attention-grabbing colors. High visibility means free advertising, no?

The Graveyard - In a clearing among the kelp forest, there lies a set of engraved stones covered in algae. It's especially quiet there. Peaceful when you focus on the sunlight filtering in through the kelp stalks.

The bunker - Placed just before the continental shelf begins to fall off into complete and utter darkness. The merfolk in town warn their children to never near that area.

Dark Zone

????? - A craggy mess of rocks on the outskirts of the continental shelf. The light begins to grow strange here for whatever reason...

Castle Town - A shipwreck amongst the craggy rocks in the dark where a strangely kind shadowy figure lives.

Field - A seemingly endless stretch of ocean in which a Lightner's vision alone cannot be used to find one's way in the dark, lest they be horribly lost until the end of time. Or lest they stray further down, where it grows darker, yet darker...

The Scarlet Forest - Not really a forest, per se. More a jestful remark over the collection of sea creatures that have evolved to have a red tone to their skin as camouflage in the watery depths. The creatures are so very frightening and strange with their sharp-toothed open maws and flashy photophores. Strange to think how normal this all is down in the depths...

Great Board - The inlets and caves that checker the continental slope and house very many deep sea merfolk. Very many large tunnels dug out to house many of the population and keep them interconnected as a society. Alas, this stationary grouping also makes them vulnerable to the power of kingly apex predators.

The Castle - Hidden within the depths of the Mariana Trench. None of the Board have seen the castle in such grave depths and lived to tell the tale. None but a strange barreleye and his hyper young ward...

Characters:

Lightners

Kris - A mostly human-shaped siren, save for fishy bits, including but not limited to, gills and an iridescent shine to their hair. Always sneaking off to play tricks on unsuspecting beach goers. Kind of a quiet kid but their mischievous grin says it all for them.

Susie - A rude, rough-and-tumble kind of sea crocodile gill girl that does not appreciate nautical wordplay. She will appreciate your lunch money, though.

Noelle - The most nervous kelpie you'll ever meet. Easily provoked but she's very sweet and intelligent and perhaps she's a shade dorky, but it's through that dorkiness she'll find a way to make you smile.

Asriel - Sweet and effortlessly loveable and smart and talented capricorn brother to Kris who's just gone off to do independent study in a different sea basin! He's coming back to town next week; Kris seems a little downcast as of late, though...

Alphys - Marine iguana teacher at the reef's local school. Please don't ask her for her reviews on neat human media she's managed to salvage, we'll be here all week.

Undyne - The undying undine on everyone's minds! ...Because she's likely tried to tackle you for minor offenses like littering or jay-swimming in the humdrum life of this little reef town. She's somewhat of a vigilante, working by her own judicial metrics and warning the reef of any terran sightings or other such troubles. Not much to report on though, these days...

Toriel & Asgore - The capricorn divorcees. Haven't you heard; the news has spread all over the place! What a shame too, they looked just like the perfect reef family...

Sans and Papyrus - The strange brothers that just moved into the reef... Coelacanth merfolk with mottled, skeletal appearances. The shorter brother "runs" the reef market. ...If you can get a fin in the door, anyway. The taller one hasn't made much of a public appearance in town yet; hard to comment on him.

Darkners

Ralsei - The prince of the prophesy, as well as the bringer of Light to the Dark, as symbolized through his charmed hat and cloak, to make him appear as though he is but a jellyfish that sways with the currents. Seems to be as soft in personality as a jellyfish's bell though.

Lancer - A hooded, mischievous figure that's always up to no good. It's kind of hard to tell what he is, with his short, stubby tentacles and furry, webbed paws, but he's kind of too adorable and personable to care much about it. Popular vote's on dumbo octopus though.

Rouxls - A vigilant barreleye with his haunting eyes always to the sky in search of tributes to pay his king or danger from which to protect the child of a royal bloodline he's been entrusted to care for. He's ditzy and kind of an asshole, but deep down, he's got a good SOUL... that glows through his transparent chest.

Seam - Ah? Looking for wares? Seam's will definitely have something to cure what ails you. The old anglerfish sits behind the shop counter, items lit only by the faint light of small jellies and the wisened shopkeep's lantern-like forehead protrusion. Go for the low prices and stay for the enchanting tales.

Jevil - A laugh sounds in the dark before you could ever approach his cell. He's nothing but needle teeth smiles when he explains to you the nature of the game. Numbers game. Must be a couple of sharks to have gotten down there in the first place. And this freed jester wouldn't have it any other way - sharks to goblin shark.

King - He is, by all accounts, imperceivable. He is larger than life and covered in shifting, writhing appendages that do not keep the shape you once thought them to be, no matter how hard you attempt to keep your focus on any point of his form. He is Leviathan, and the fact that you are before him means that you are incredibly fucked.

Knight - [REDACTED]

PREVIOUS DRAWINGS

Rouxls and a mysterious man

Unmasked Lancer

okay... i think that's about it! don't be afraid to ask for more clarification on anything, i know i gave general overview/musing blurb of... kind of everything i could think to describe! hope this is fine!

or ask me to infodump on another of my AUs! ;3c

[allegra-writes]

"Fine line" part I

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader x Harry Osborn

Teen and Up

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part of the "Fine Line" series. Welcome to the endgame.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

He had never seen you fight before. It was stupid of him, and potentially dangerous, to stop and think about something like that in the middle of a freaking battle, but he just couldn't help it. You were graceful, deadly. You and Kate Bishop moving together like a well oiled machine. Strike team Delta, Fury's pride. A blur of perfectly shot arrows and high kicks. 

But not even you were enough to stop the giant monstrosity in its path of destruction, not even him was. And it had hostages now. 

"Six!"

"I know K, I'm seeing it!"

"I'm on it guys!" Peter called back as he swung by you like a red and blue meteor, following the greenish abomination currently climbing up the side of a skyscraper, carrying a sports car on his free hand as effortlessly as if it was a toy. 

"One little question though" He switched to coms, "What the hell is that thing??"

"That thing" You explained, "is Norman Osborn…"

Peter's hand slipped, sending him flying face first into the building wall,

"Say what?!" 

"We'll fill you up later, Spidey" Kate quipped, "For now, would you mind giving us a hand before King-kong over there kills anyone? I don't trust his butter fingers not to drop that Audi"

"Yes, ma'am" You could hear Peter's smile in his voice, "S.H.I.E.L.D girls are so bossy"

"Well, we are your superiors..." You noted, finally arriving at the entrance of the building when he was already halfway to the top. 

"Ugh, I hate it when you pull rank on me" He groaned, swerving to dodge the shards of broken glass raining upon him.

You snorted, 

"No you don't"

"No, I don't" He admitted, "Kinda turns me on"

"Ew! Guys, I can hear you" Kate catched up to you, shooting an arrow hooked to a line around her belt. Peter wasn't surprised to see it hit its mark flawlessly on a ledge above his head, "Hi, hot stuff, need a ride?" 

You rolled your eyes, but wrapped your arms around her shoulders nonetheless, holding on tight. 

"Hey!" Peter protested, mid swing, "No flirting with my girl!"

"I saw her first!" Kate released the latch, and soon you both were ascending at breakneck speed, easily surpassing Peter, "Race you to the top, Spidey!" 

His laughter resonated through the coms, as he sped up to follow you, guns blazing into the battle.

…

There was no laughter anymore. The friendly banter and quick comebacks had died long ago, the second you had realized it was a trap. The goblin creature was far more intelligent than you were led to believe, having set the ploy from the very beginning, his seemingly driftless rampage through the city, not so random after all. 

And far more psychotic, as you had learnt when he tore open the car in his hands to reveal the terrified blond man inside. 

"HARRY!"

Peter's horrified scream matched your own.

"Well well well, it seems you awake quite the loyalty" a massive hand closed around Harry's torso, his indigo orbs finding yours across the rooftop "for such a pathetic little worm"

"Let him go, Goblin" Kate's tone was placating, almost gentle, "you don't know what you're doing…"

The creature laughed,

"That's what you think? What your imbecilic little investigation concluded?" Kate and you exchanged a look. Of course. Your investigation about the Green Goblin and other Oscorp shady experiments relied heavily on Norman Osborn personal files. The thought of the passionate scientist, who valued his work more than his own son, lying in his own research had never even crossed your minds. He had played you like a fiddle, misled you every step of the way, and you had bought right into it.

"I worked with S.H.I.E.L.D longer than you had been alive, and Fury thinks he can sic you after me? Two little girls playing spy and my own creation??" Harry looked about ready to pass out as the Goblin waved him around, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke.

Through the corner of his eye, Peter caught a glimpse of Kate inching closer to the beast, and was only half interested when he inquired,

"What do you mean your creation?"

"Everything special about you," The Goblin's deformed visage twisted in what Peter assumed was supposed to be a smirk, "came from one of my labs!"

"That might be true, you might have involuntarily given me my powers, but you didn't make me Spider-man" Peter countered, "Mister Stark gave me the suit, and showed me what it meant to be a hero, and I loved him and admire him more than you will ever be able to understand, but he didn't make me Spider-man either. 

I choose to be Spider-man, every day. I created myself, cause it isn't who we were made to be that makes us who we are. Our choices make us who we are! You might have the powers and appearance of a monster, but you don't have to be one!"

"If you really think that, you are even more stupid than I thought, Peter Parker"

"Pe-peter?" Harry gasped through the creatures crushing grasp around his torso. Peter hesitated for a second, before taking his mask off. 

"Yeah, it's me, buddy" He admitted, watching his friend's eyes go wide, "It's going to be ok, Haz. We'll get you out of this, I promise…"

Famous last words. Peter should have known better by then than to jinx things like that. Because not two minutes later, he was seeing Kate's little ambush fail, the creature's tail whipping around with enough force to send her flying against a wall and knock her out, Peter's own kick just a little too slow to stop the Goblin from grabbing you in his free hand.

"Wings? It has fucking wings??" Peter cursed under his breath, scrambling to follow the monster as he flapped his enormous, membranous wings, soaring across the city. But the creature had no intention of going too far.

"You say our choices make us who we are, very well" The Goblin challenged him, hovering above 700 feet of empty air, and Peter's heart stopped. "Let's see what yours are. What is it going to be, your friend… or your lover?" 

"Don't do it, Goblin!" He yelled, standing on a ledge, ready to pounce, when he saw it. Or rather, saw her, purple hair blowing in the wind, standing on the air, a little lower and further behind from the Goblin, one palm pointed down, creating some sort of sonic wave that kept her up. She signaled a series of orders with her free hand, and Peter nodded almost imperceptibly, but enough for you to realize something was happening. You twisted in the Goblins grip to see what was going on at your back. Oh, fuck.

"Make your choice, Peter. Now!" 

Norman Osborn let go of you and Harry at the same time, leaving you to watch your boyfriend dive for your ex. But you weren't falling, you were floating, cushioned by a column of vibrating air. 

"Don't worry, rookie," You heard an annoyingly familiar voice say, "big sis is here…"

Great. You were never going to live this down, now. 

Meanwhile, Peter had problems of his own, the momentum the Goblin had thrown his own son away making it difficult for him to catch Harry on time.

And even after he had the other man safe in his arms, he wouldn't stop squirming, fighting in his hold. 

"Noooo! Go after her! Save her!!"

Peter managed to land the both of them in a terrace, 

"She's ok! She's fine, see? She's got this! She's got this…" Peter finally released Harry, pointing up to the place where you still were hovering in the air with that other agent. 

"She… she's… flying?" 

"I think that is actually the other one's making…" Peter shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. Harry started pacing back and forth, obviously overwhelmed, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

"And you're Spider-man…" he turned to Peter, who nodded. "And that thing… what the fuck was that thing?" 

Peter hesitated,

"Apparently, a crazy scientist" he finally decided on a half truth.

"A crazy… Mate, what even is your life?"

"Honestly? I've been asking myself that same question for years…"

Harry barked out a watery, hysterical laugh. He wanted to punch the shorter guy, he wanted to throw himself at his feet and thank him for saving his life. To apologize for all the drunken midnight calls, and also stab him in his boyishly handsome face for being so fucking noble and heroic and brave and impossibly perfect and for stealing his girl. 

He clutched as his chest, the burn almost making him double over in pain, and he realized he was hyperventilating.

"Harry, Harry, look at me. Look at me! Do you feel my chest? Can you feel my chest under your hand?" 

Harry noticed then that Peter was pressing his open palm, splayed against the spider logo on his own chest. He nodded his affirmation.

"Good, feel how it moves? Breath with me" Peter ordered, "inhale…" 

Harry breathed in, in time with his friend's expanding chest.

"Now exhale" 

Harry let go of his breath.

"That's right, you're doing so great" Peter's praise warmed up something inside his gut. "Inhale…" and Harry did, catching a faint whiff of your perfume. Peter smelled like you, the realization making him notice just how close to each other they were, only inches apart. And he wondered idly if that was the view you were used to, the one you favored over everything else: warm brown eyes, staring into your soul, right before leaning in. He wondered if you appreciated those hard, muscular shoulders under your hands, before pulling him close. He wondered if Peter's lips still tasted like you.

And before he knew it, Peter found himself with Harry's mouth crashing on his.

He knew he should stop it, step away, but he was rooted to the spot, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of sensations. It was different from kissing a girl. Hard planes where he was used to soft curves. The tickle of scruff, and slightly chapped lips where he was used to your strawberry sweet lipstick. But as Harry's tongue licked his bottom lip, begging for entrance, Peter couldn't help but open up to him, to surrender to him, as his tongue conquered every inch of Peter's mouth, a greddy, hungry victor. 

"I hate you so much" Harry breathed against Peter's mouth, even as his big hands came to frame the brunet's face, the metal of his finger rings cool against Peter's cheeks

"Doesn't feel like hate…" He quipped, before scraping his teeth against Harry's lips, tearing a moan out of him.

"No, it doesn't" the taller boy admitted, pushing one thigh between Peter's, gasping as he felt one of the hero's hands coming to rest against his lower back, pressing him closer. 

"You taste like cigarettes" Peter marveled, for some reason finding the bittersweet taste delicious. 

"And you taste like her" Harry replied, diving in again.

Peter froze. Her. You. His girlfriend. 

"Harry… Harry stop" Peter muttered, between nibbles "we need to stop. This is wrong"

"Feels right" The heir protested, teeth latching onto Peter's lower lip to stop him from pulling away. Peter groaned, but managed to break the kiss anyway. 

"It's not. We can't do this to her." 

Harry sighed, resting his forehead against Peter's, still reluctant to let go completely,

"I know…" he admitted. 

They stood like that for a few moments, willing breathings to calm, and hearts to slow down.

"You should go" Harry spoke finally, taking a step back, Peter immediately missing the warmth of his body in his arms. He wanted to say something, anything, to chase away the heartbreak, the loneliness in those pale blue eyes, but he couldn't. The knot in his own throat would not allow it. 

So he just stepped away, slipping his mask on, and jumped. He caught a glimpse of Harry's teary, red face, sticking out from the balcony to watch him go, before shooting off a web and swinging away, back to the skyscraper where Kate had fallen. Because if he knew you at all, that was exactly where you were going to be, taking care of your best friend.

…

"...I'm telling you, I had everything under control!"

"Is that why you were hanging 700 feet in the air?" The purple haired girl argued, crossing her arms over her chest, "Admit it, rookie, you're lucky I arrived just in time to save your ass. Again."

You were fuming, face flushed and eyes bright, and Peter found himself struck yet again by how gorgeous you were. A pang of guilt stabbed his stomach. 

"I didn't ask you too" You replied, petulantly, "and stop calling me 'rookie', I'm a level 9 agent."

"... I'm still higher than you"

"For one level!" You cried in frustration, "One single fucking level!"

"Would you two shut up?" Kate stumbled up, and Peter broke free from his haze to hurry and wrap a stabilizing arm around her shoulders, "You're giving me a headache"

"Yeah, that would be the concussion," purple quipped, "don't worry, Simmons should be here any minute to take a look at that"

"Yay, finally a sane person to talk to" Kate deadpanned. Purple ignored her.

"And you must be the boyfriend…" She singsonged, nudging you with her shoulder, "He's cute under the mask, how did you managed to get him to go out with you?" 

"Hey!" Peter and you exclaimed indignantly, in unison. 

"I'm kidding, jeez!" She raised her hands in surrender. "Come on, won't you introduce us?" 

You rolled your eyes, but complied anyway,

"Daisy, this is Peter Parker. Peter, this is Daisy Johnson, weirdo fancies herself my sister"

"Ooh, 'fancies'! You've spent way too much time with that brit boy, didn't you?"

"Daisy, I swear to god I will-"

"You need to tell her" Kate whispered, taking advantage of your distraction.

"Wh-what?"

She scoffed, Kate had never had much patience for anyone's bullshit.

"About what just happened with Harry. She will understand, Peter, I promise. But only if she hears it from you"

"H-how do you know?"

"I see better from afar" The archer smirked, before returning her attention to you and, apparently, your sister.

"Are they always like that?" Peter whispered, a little alarmed. Kate snorted,

"Just wait till you meet the rest of her old team…"  

"Yeah, what do you say, boyfriend?" Daisy smirked, mischievous glimmer in her eyes so much like yours, "Ready to meet the family?" 

Peter gulped, he really wasn't. 

To be continued...

[yellowmagicalgirl]

no good to dwell on dreams (even if i walked with you once upon one)

At the top of a wooden tower, Krel finds a boy cursed to sleep for 900 years until he receives true love's kiss.

At the top of a wooden tower, Douxie is finally awoken from his cursed sleep. Nothing is as he had expected it to be.

Thank you to the Sleepless Domain Discord user known as 10zin for helping me out when grammar was an issue for me. This fic is post-3Below AU where Wizards didn't happen, and also a Sleeping Beauty AU.

I'm still on hiatus due to finals, but I hope people enjoy this!

AO3

FFN

"I wonder what creepy creepers are in this creepy castle?" Steve asked.

"Really, it's just a tower," Toby said, swinging his warhammer around for light. The three of them had been excited to have a peaceful winter break. No school aside from the homework that Miss Janeth and Señor Uhl had assigned, and ever since Krel and Aja had defeated Morando last summer, the only fights there had been were with the occasional goblin or gnome. And, of course, sparring sessions that Krel tried to ditch as often as possible.

But then the tower had shown up, which meant that Toby and Steve had decided to drag Krel through the woods near Arcadia Oaks. He should have just stayed home, because at least there wouldn't be so many trees. Just the loneliness that had settled into every corner when Mother died and Aja and Varvatos had left.

The tower was made of wood. Dead trees, because of klebbing course it had to be. It looked a lot taller in person than it did from far away. A cool mist surrounded it. The door was made of wood as well, with a few runes carved into it.

Toby frowned. "That's not Trollish or Akiridion."

"Maybe we should come back with Claire, since she's trying to learn to decipher other magical languages?" Krel asked. Really, they should've just waited for Claire and Jim to heal from their common cold before investigating the tower.

"Uh, no. She and Jim will act all smug and superior because we needed their help," Steve said.

"They won't be... okay, they might be annoyed because how dare we go off on our own and pull a stunt when those two have nearly killed themselves doing the same thing, but! They won't be smug. Grumpy, sure. Jumpy, yes in Claire's case. But not smug. I'll lead, but have your axe and serrator out," Toby instructed. He pushed on the door, but it didn't give.

"Oh, well, I guess we should go home now," Krel said.

"Not getting out of this that easy," Steve said, punching Krel in the shoulder with enough force that Krel was glad he was in his Akiridion form. Otherwise, there was a good chance that Steve would've knocked him over.

Toby took a step back, then slammed his warhammer into the door. It still didn't give way.

Krel's curiosity won over the fact that he should be trying to be the voice of reason for his friends. He pushed past Steve and Toby. He then reached up to trace the runes. Perhaps there was some sort of mechanism to them.

They lit up green under his touch. Krel heard Toby make a nervous sound behind him as the rest of the door glowed green before turning to mist.

Steve coughed. "Well, since the castle-"

 "-tower," Toby interrupted.

"Since it likes you," Steve continued, "I guess you're leading the way." Krel groaned and walked into the tower.

The three of them made their way up the spiral staircase. Every several feet, a sconce in the wall lit up with green light. Eventually, they reached a second door at the top of the stairs. Krel once more traced over the ruins engraved in the door, which then disappeared into the same mist.

The room at the top of the tower was empty aside from a stone slab in the center of the room. On top of it lay a boy. He looked so still; so peaceful. He was human, with dark hair tied into a bun and bangs flowing down either side of his face. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked to be at most a year older than Steve, Toby, and Krel.

"Is this... a tomb?" Toby asked as the three of them approached the boy.

"I don't think so," Steve said as Krel leaned over the boy, who showed no signs of breathing. "In all the video games I've played, the tomb is under the castle-"

"-I keep on telling you Steve, this is a tower!"

"The tomb is under the castle," Steve continued despite Toby's interruption. "Not at the top of it. Unless, I don't know, maybe some cultures don't have their tombs under the castles? Krel, how do Akiridions do it?"

Krel was about to retort that it didn't matter how Akiridions dealt with their dead, because this boy wasn't Akiridion. However, Steve nudged Krel forcefully enough that he lurched forward and his lips brushed against the boy's. They were soft, and just warm enough that despite being in his Akiridion form Krel could feel the temperature difference.

Krel stood up, about to turn and yell at Steve for pushing him. But then, the boy's eyes fluttered open.

Toby screamed.

The boy screamed, sitting up and scrambling away from the three of them.

Steve and Krel screamed.

The boy caught his breath and looked between the three of them. He drew his knees up to his chest as he   and Krel waited for Toby and Steve to stop screaming. He licked his lips and swallowed before speaking. "Which one of you kissed me?"

Steve pointed at Krel. The boy stared at Krel with an odd expression.

"I only did so because I was shoved," Krel said, rolling his eyes. Really, if the boy wanted an apology for having been unexpectedly kissed while he was asleep, then Steve should be the one apologizing.

Slowly, a shy smile formed on the boy's face. "I'll admit, I had thought that my true love would've been a human or another wizard, not... no matter what, it's good to meet you. I'm Douxie."

Out of the corners of his eyes, Krel could see his friends trying and mostly failing to not laugh at the entire situation with Douxie. This wasn't funny, and his friends weren't helpful at all. Maybe this was a sign that they should've waited for Jim and Claire, who would certainly... no. They'd probably also be trying to stifle laughter. Krel was so thankful that Aja wasn't here, because she'd definitely be laughing.

"I... no," Krel said. "Why the kleb do you think I'm your 'true love' or whatever?"

Douxie's face fell before raised an eyebrow. "I was cursed, so that I would sleep for 900 years, and then this tower would appear in close vicinity to my true love, who would wake me with a kiss. Didn't you read the runes the Master Merlin inscribed on the door? You would've triggered their magic."

Krel bristled with frustration. "Well, clearly this 'Master' didn't account for the possibility of my technology interfacing with the tower."

Douxie flinched, frowning and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Wait, by Merlin, you wouldn't happen to mean a crusty old wizard who likes the color green and uses the Staff of Avalon, would you?"

"I wouldn't call him crusty..." Douxie said. One of the corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying to fight off a smile.

"Come on," Toby said. "My friends - other friends, not these two - and I have way too much experience cleaning up Merlin's messes."

The four of them exited the tower and watched it turn to mist behind them. Douxie frowned and was silent as they made their way to Jim's house.

"So," Jim said, glancing over at Douxie. Douxie was seated on the couch, sipping at a glass of water. He had tucked himself into a corner, arm not holding the glass wrapped around himself. He looked around slowly with a dazed and confused expression. "You decided to, instead of waiting for backup, go investigate the tower on your own. And then you woke up yet another ancient wizard."

"I mean," Toby replied, "at least this one doesn't seem to be genocidal or power hungry." Claire flinched.

"Technically Krel woke him up!" Steve said. Krel scowled. He only woke Douxie up because Steve pushed him. For all they knew, carrying him out of the tower would have worked just as well. Or splashing him with water or shaking him.

"Why were you asleep and trapped in the tower, Douxie?" Douxie jumped upon hearing Jim say his name.

"The curse was intended for our king, to make him sleep for 900 years, but his sister pushed him out of the way. It was because the curse wasn't originally meant for her that I was able to sacrifice myself for her," Douxie said. Very pointedly, he looked away from Krel. "I... there was an old wooden tower on the edge of Camelot. It had fallen into disrepair, so Master Merlin was able to enchant it to protect me, and so... the curse was supposed to only be breakable by true love's kiss, but I guess since Morgana took on the curse instead there were other ways to wake me up."

"Wait." Claire sat up straight, muscles tensing like she was preparing for a fight. "By Morgana, you wouldn't mean a witch 'has many names' and was the apprentice to Merlin?"

"I have never heard her claim to have many names," Douxie said, "but you do remarkably well at mimicking her voice. And yes, but she finished her apprenticeship years before I met her. How do you know her?"

"Oh, let me count the fucking ways." Claire sneered. "Let's see, in reverse chronological order, there's the time she tried to kill all life on Earth-"

"She wouldn't do that!" Douxie's hands shook before he balled them into fists.

"Oh, she definitely did. She did that and more."

"No, I know  her. You must be mistaken," Douxie said quickly, like he had very little air and couldn't say much before gasping again.

"You knew her," Claire said. Pinpricks of purple invaded her eyes, and her voice raised a little in volume with each word. "But I know what she became after you fell asleep. You should have just let her keep the curse."

Douxie began to hyperventilate, shaking his head. Krel just barely saw the way tears and pinpricks of blue formed in his eyes as he reached for his bracer before a cloud of pale blue smoke enveloped the room. The glass fell to the floor, and the sound of the door opening could be heard.

Douxie was gone when the smoke cleared, and there was no sign of where he could be.

"I... fuck," Claire said. Her hands shook, and she kept glancing down at them and around the room. Her eyes were wide and her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch than normal. "I didn't mean to- I just- I'll go after him. Apologize."

"No," Toby said. "Claire, we all know you didn't mean to hurt Douxie, but we also all know that if you even just start sneezing because of dust then your PTSD starts to act up more. That argument you just had about Morgana isn't helping things. You're on the edge of a panic attack, and one or both of you will get hurt if you go after him."

"I'll go after him," Krel said. "What's the phrase... you wake it, you pay the consequences for it?"

"Eh... sort of, not really," Jim said. "It's you break it, you bought it."

"You break his heart upon waking him up, you're responsible?" Steve said. "But it's probably best if we split up to look for him before he gets himself hit by a car or anything."

Naturally, Douxie had run off into the trees near Jim's house. Given his path, it seemed like he had tried to find his way back to the tower, but he had probably given up when Krel found him. He was casting magic from his bracer and sitting on a tree stump. Half-dried tears reflected the blue light of his magic.

Krel bit his lip, recalling the way that Douxie's had felt against his. The doors of the tower had given way for him. As much as he wanted to deny it and blame Steve, it was Krel's fault he was stuck in a strange world with no one.

Krel inhaled sharply as it finally hit him why Douxie had been so pleased that Krel was his supposed True Love. It wasn't just because Krel broke the curse keeping him asleep, or else he wouldn't have insisted on it so much. He probably would've been thankful either way.

It was because, even if everyone else he ever knew was dead or evil in their old age, at least Douxie would have had someone guaranteed to care about him. It was the one thing he could hope for, and Krel had smashed that hope and left him all alone.

"I know this is probably overwhelming for you," Krel said, slowly approaching Douxie. Douxie didn't look up at him. "I'm not from Earth, so it was overwhelming for me as well, and I at least had my sister and our bodyguard. I'm sorry I'm not who you hoped I would be."

"It's not your fault," Douxie mumbled. "Is it true? That because I sacrificed myself, it's my fault that Morgana did so many horrible things?"

"No. You couldn't have known what she would do. Not even Claire believes that, and if she had been the one to find you I'm sure she'd be trying to apologize. But, out of all my friends, Morgana hurt Claire the most badly, so she overreacted. But no one blames you." Krel pointed at Douxie's bracer. "How does that work?"

Douxie smiled, probably thankful for a change in subject. He could talk about his ancient wizard technology instead of his feelings. "It's sort of like a portable spellbook. It helps me control my magic, and it's also easier to remember the components needed for spells like this. I'm currently trying to cast a spell that will help me find my familiar."

Douxie's smile slid off of his face. "He's a dragon, and dragons live for a long time. If he didn't, then I would have run away from Camelot and never would have sacrificed myself for her. But, what if he's changed like Morgana did, or gotten another wizard after all this time? Or what if he died of non-natural causes?"

"We can try to help you find him. Him and Merlin." Besides, everyone had been trying to find Merlin anyways, after the geezer had skipped out on the trolls by proclaiming that he had things to do.

"Thank you. Though, I'm scared to find either of them."

"Though, in the mean time, you'll need a place to stay. My sister doesn't live at home anymore, so I have a spare room if you want it."

"I'd like that; thank you."

There was no foretold true love waiting for Douxie, but that didn't mean he had to be alone. And neither did Krel.

A/N: I'm going to leave it up to the reader as to whether or not Krel actually is Douxie's fated true love and is just in denial about it.

[depizan]

100 Days of Writing

@the-wip-project‘s 100 days of writing

Day Ninety-Three: Think of your favorite characters (from your WIP or from an interesting source material) and identify who leans more towards Hero and who leans more towards Heroine. Sketch out how they influence each other and what direction their stories could go.

I still find these monomyth concepts to be a bit like literary astrology, not to mention word soup half the time, however the stuff about going it alone vs connections did make me think about a few things.

This is going to be a long one!

The first thing to come to mind was the climax of the movie Labyrinth (you know, from the 80s, starring a young Jennifer Connelly, a lot of muppets, and David Bowie).

Throughout the movie Sarah collects an odd assortment of companions on a journey that has a lot of fun with fairy tale and fantasy tropes. (Some played straight, some not.) At the climax, she tells her companions she has to face the Goblin King alone because “that’s how it’s done,” something that always felt weird to me both because she had spent the journey collecting all these allies and because the movie seems to have a message about fantasy and what’s important that doesn’t quite sit well with suddenly doing the Hero’s Journey straight. (Granted, people have a lot of different ideas about what the movie’s themes/messages even are.)

But it felt like part of the whole “you have no power over me” showdown should have included not playing by “the rules.” The movie, over all, doesn’t. Why should Sarah?

The second thing to come to mind was that, for all that it’s supposed to be directly the Hero’s Journey, Star Wars... doesn’t do it right. Like, ever. (Not the originals, anyway.)

In the first one (A New Hope), Luke only succeeds in destroying the Death Star because Han’s connection to him and Leia (and probably a certain amount of “you idiot”ing from Chewbacca) got him to turn around, come back, and save Luke. That’s not being a lone hero.

In The Empire Strikes Back, Luke goes alone to face Vader and... pretty much fails utterly. He’s only saved from this by his Force connection to Leia. (Interestingly, he originally went to Cloud City to save his friends, but then seems to get distracted by Vader’s presence and decides to go face him instead, making it seem like choosing the Hero’s Journey over the Heroine’s Journey was a mistake.) Also, successfully escaping Bespin is very much a group effort.

In Return of the Jedi, Luke goes to confront his father - not to fight him, but to convince him to change sides again. Which works. The Heroic showdown part...not so much. Luke doesn’t win against the Emperor, though he is saved from him by his father. And it is wildly unclear whether any of that served anything beyond getting his father to choose family over the Emperor. (I mean, Lando and Wedge blow the place up, which would’ve happened regardless of who won. That should have been fatal to the Emperor, regardless. (AND NO PALPATINE DID NOT “SOMEHOW” SURVIVE. WHAT THE FUCK, ABRAMS.) So Luke didn’t save the day, in any appreciable sense. He did something that was meaningful to him (and his family). That’s not to say what he did didn’t matter, it just didn’t matter to the “defeat the Empire” plot.

Even the prequel trilogy seems really ambivalent about the whole lone hero thing, and I think a case could be made for it being a critique of the Hero’s Journey. “Actually, this kind of thing fucks you up a lot and also maybe isn’t the best thing to model a religious order of peacekeepers on.”

But that’s also why I feel like these monomyth things are kind of astrology for fiction. Loads and loads of people feel like Star Wars IS The Hero’s Journey. Lucas may have intended it to be. (Not even Lucas himself knows what he intended. He’s said so many different and contradictory things over the years. Yegad.)

I, personally, am not much into the whole lone hero thing. My fic tends to prioritize connections - having them, making them - over any kind of mano a mano stuff. There are several moments where the more traditionally protagonisty thing to do doesn’t work out very well, though it does put people in a position to try talking. Which works.

I suppose one could argue that the main characters of my WIP (that I ought to be working on...) are all... well, they’re not on the Hero’s Journey because they’re a bunch of criminals, but they are aiming toward something more alone. Jezari wants to get her ship back, dump Corso on someone else, and get back to her life of less-than-legal cargo hauling. Corso wants to get his blaster back, be heroic, and get a girl. (Or something like that.) Risha wants to get “Nok Drayen’s riches” for herself and is only working with other people because it’s not a one person thing. They’ll pick up Bowdaar freeing himself.

To varying degrees, they do get what they want (or some of it), but they also end up forging connections and becoming a crew, becoming friends. And we all know the real treasure is the friends you make along the way.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reviews: The Trickening!

Halloween Havoc continues! Louie’s greed and lack of concern for his brother’s feelings or well thought out schedule leads them to a real life haunted house with vampire clowns, dummies, a scary well lady and a gelatinous cube. Because there’s’es always room for gelatinous cube. Meanwhile Della wants to use Launchpad’s dangerous misconceptions about halloween to traumatize children for funzies and Donald had a problem with that for some reason. Also Scrooge is kind of an asshole on Halloween it turns out. No one is suprised. Ghosts, goblins, and full review with spoilers under the cut. 

Happy halloween month everybody! Halloween Havoc, aka my spate of halloween reviews continues as I roll into my first actual halloween episode review of the season! Yeah weird but so far we’ve covered demons getting exorcisims, little girls thinking they can raise the dead, and a horrifying plauge guided by the human incarnation of all that is evil, but not the actual holliday itself. Weird ain’t it? Well that changes with this so as always pitter patter. 

It’s HALLOWEEN here in duckberg, and the mansion kids are planning Trick or Treating. Natural given Huey’s OCD, he has everything planned out a and naturally the kids all have unique and adorable costumes. Huey is gizmoduck, though with a GK instead of  GD, a nice nod to “New Gizmokids on the BLock’ From the original series, an episode I haven’t seen but have heard of so theres that. It’s also because he likely wants to be Fenton’s kid sidekick which.. yeah please do that show. It’d be so fucking adorable. Plus Huey needs to be happy for once without having to go through a gauntlet of misery first. Let my boy be happy. +

Anyways Dewey’s is rather disapointing as it’s a “pirate on vacation” which while hilarious and very dewey, is kind of an anti-climax after months of speculation. Webby is some kind of ancient demon king as apparently in the duckverse the origins of halloween are based on appeasing various monsters, and this is so she can hide from them effectively. And Louie.. is Huey. Which means putting on Huey’s hat and a terribly insulting impression of him. 

Meanwhile Donald and Della are an angel and a devil, with, which I didn’t realize until a tumblr post, Della’s costume being the one one of the boys wore in the classic disney trick or treat short. So that’s a nice nod. Donald wants to nicely give out candy while Della wants to terrify the children. Both end up disapointed as Scrooge instead boots everyone from the house and locks the mansion gates, as he doesn’t like giving out handouts which.. yeah that tracks. 

As it turns out Scrooge also has his own plans.. which are gloriously ludicrous, sounding like something Glomgold would do: He’s going to go trick or treating himself, as when he was a boy, this was the one time of year a poor lad like him could get treats and he worked his tail off to do so and wants to prove he’s still got it. And as we see later SOMEHOW he still gets candy. It’s like if THIS was actually sucessful. 

I would genuinely not be suprised if Scrooge too hadn’t tried to get an oil well from an elementary school this way. As for leaving candy out he leaves out an empty take one bowl which is as clever as it is douchey. So in other words Scrooge in a nutshell. So with handing out treats and scares at the house a non-option, Della and Donald go to see what Launchpad’s doing since Beakly.. is.. I have no fucking idea. NO I really don’t, she shows up for the ending, but before that? If they mentioned where she was I clearly missed it because she’s just.. missing for most of the episode and given every other member of the main cast is accounted for this episode, it’s VERY noticable. Give her more to do dangit!

So yeah we get our two plots, which i’ll cover seperately, then cover the ending where they dovetail together. Kay? Kay. 

The Kid’s Plot centers around Huey and Louie.. specifically Louie wanting to go to a real life haunted house while Huey, as mentinoed has heavily established plans for their night. As for why Louie would go into danger, well as usual for when he does that theirs something in it for him: Rumor has it no kid has ever made it out with their candy.. thus leaving decades worth of candy just waiting to be nabbed and thus never having to trick or treat again. One big score for a payoff.. which didn’t make a lot of sense on first thought and my best guest is whatever preservative Gyro used for Oxy Chew, since it was still edible decades later, was probably spread to other candies since there’s no way in hell Scrooge would pass up a zillion dollar invention like that. Either way works.  Huey is outvoted as Dewey naturally wants the excitment and Webby wants to see if her demon costume works on actual demons. However things quicklky go wrong as they ecoounter a dewey dummy and a killer dummy, as well as a monster clown and a gelatonous cube, which yes. I may not play DnD but I love these things. 

The kids escape the house by accident while tryign to escape and Louie, still being a dick about things, finds out Huey DID know abotu the stash btu avoided it and Louie lays into Huey.. a bit much honestly, feeling he was agaisnt it purely because it wasn’t on schedule.. when you know, Louie could’ve asked to put it on schedule or actually given a damn about this, especially since Huey’s planned their trick or treats EVERY YEAR, so he’s had a full year to ask for this insane idea, or even the short time he’s known about it if shorter. Sure huey might of sputtered a bit, but Louie knows his other siblings, Webby and Dewey could convince him to loosen up and include the house. Louie’s just being kind fo a selfish dick here.. however i’ts not so overwhelming as to overpower the episode, as he has been before and while he should know better about risking his family’s lives after “Timephoon!” it is in character for him to protiize a big score like this over other people’s feelings and it’s not even the first time this season he’s done that. So fair enough. 

But we soon get the second best reveal of the episode: As the kids are backed into a corner by monsters.. they grumble theres no candy and it turns out the monsters.. ARE REAL.. but their traditional monsters like frankenstein, dracula, and the bride of frankenstein, just dressed up like this to scare kids. As it turns out the WHOLE THING is an elaborate yearly scooby doo hoax to get kids candy, with the brilliant twist it’s done by actual monsters> As the vampire points out they can’t exactly shop during the day.. or he can’t at least, so this is how they get candy for the year.. at tribute if you will. Also the Gelationous Cube gets a nice hat as you see above. It’s a REALLY clever twist and I absolutely love it. I DID NOT see it coming and even with some spoiler screenshots I thankfully did not have it spoiled for me. REALLY good stuff. 

As for why Huey’s been so obessed with his planning.. it’s actually really clever and really good character stuff: Huey simply got really into it because back when they were with donald this WAS their adventure for the year: the one time he let them cut loose and have fun, and he got a real kick out of it.. and Louie getting candy for life kind of destroys that. And that’s why Louie still works here.. because he instnatly realizes from this that was the problem and apologizes in his own way. It’s a nice bit of character from both: We’ve rarely had their pre-mansion lives factor in and it’s nice to see it for a change, and it’s nice to see Louie isn’t all dick, just like 20% dick. Unforutnately having no candy dosen’t appease the monsters who are pissed and descend on the kids.. until.. well for the until we have to back up a bit.  So onto the adult plot we go! Della and Donald go to Launchpad whose dressed in a jason mask and ash williams/jason coveralls, weilding a power sander and having barricaded his place. After he scares some children, a bit too much, and Della and Donald are reallyd amn confused, he explains.. and we get the best reveal of the episode.. which given the above is saying something but it’s clear like the “blath” gag in “Astro BOYD” and the non-anthro ducks gag last week, this is one of those things Frank has been keeping under his hat all series.  So as a boy Launchpad crashed his tryke into the mansion, ran into the monsters after reading off a candy wrapper.. and now assumes he unleashed a horde of monsters onto the world every halloween.. and tha’ts what he assumes the trick or treaters are. I just .. dont’ have a lto of words. This is pure comedy gold and easily the best gag of the episode and oen fo the best of the series. It’s clever, fresh, and really fits the character. Naturally Della wants to exploit this to terrify children ebcause she has underlying issues to adress while Donald tries to stop her. Thankfully before Della can get launchpad to scar children for life, Scrooge shows up and fights launchpad.. it’s part of why I also find scrooge’s dickery acceptable as launchpad beats the shit out of him.. it’s still an even fight, as not to suspend disbelief, but Scrooge still looses. I mean he gets out of being trapped in his candy bag easily because scrooge btu still, props to launchpad. So Launchpad decides to go face his fears and Donald and Della decide to stop him before he doesd a muder on a child.  Which leads to an AMAZING climax as Launchpad scooby doo chases the scared monsters around as they have no idea what the fuck’s going on and hte monsters end up really enjoying his scar eof htem and bowing to the master. It’s a good way to end it. After Della explains what’s going on, Louie and Huey decide to explain halloween to Launchpad by taking him to the once house he hasn’t been: the Manor. Scrogoe has finally opened it up, with a line of kids no less, the monsters bond with some kids in line. As for why.. as Webby sadly figures out Scrooge is charging admission, thakns to dewey who thought an all night candy store was a good idea which.. yeah it is. So everyone gets a happye ending and the monsters hang a photo of hte night up in the mansion. A really sweet ending, pun uintended but eh it’s welcome. 

Final Thoughts.  Easily one fo the series best. While the characters are a bit exagerated in places, i.e. della, launchpad , scrooge and louie, it works for the plot well enough and the jokes well enough to make it okay. My only real complaint is a lack of even a cameo from Lena and Violet, as it feels weird to not even have htem in the ending, much less trick or treating with their friends. It just feels odd and could’ve used a throaway line. I get WHY not , as Lena even pre-blue would’ve destoryed the tension with the monsters, but it still feeels really weird to not have them. But it’s a minor quibble in an otherwise REALLY funny and creative episode and a fun halloween treat to revist every year from now on. Really good work.  That does it for this week. For more halloween treats, follow this blog throughout october. So far i’ve done reviews of Demonicsim from Star Vs The Forces of Evil for Tomtober, Croaked, the Casagrandes day of the dead Special and the first of Marvel’s mini-series adapting Stephen’ King’s epic novel The Stand. And until next monday, or sooner if you decide to check any of that out, happy halloween!

[yfere]

M9 Signature Combat Moves (and what they say about them)

AKA, I nerd out over battle strategies and patterns.

Fjord: Fjord is lovely and my favorite person to watch in battle, because his main combat strategy is, get out of dodge, then distract the enemy away from your friends, then get out of dodge, get your friends out of dodge, shove a healing potion down your unconscious friend’s throat while you’re getting them out of dodge. He’s all for the guerilla warfare, and is understandably upset whenever someone implies that it’s not super noble and heroic looking, because it works, right? Keeps him and everyone alive. So among his signature moves are:

Thunderstep. Which he uses to a) bampf himself and his friends (but mostly his friends) out of harms’ way or b) bampf some help to his friends. And by friends we mostly mean “Caleb” because this poor man needs everyone he can looking after him so he isn’t ground into meat paste in .02 seconds. Routinely holds the spell while Bad Shit Is Happening so that he can use it at the exact right moment.

Major Image. For those times you really want the enemy to be looking the other direction while you get out of dodge, or, to encourage them to massacre the group that is not you (an effective distraction!)

Misty Step. Getting some distance, like a hero.

Summon Greater Demon. For chewing spellcasters he doesn’t like to bits, but mostly for absorbing damage from all the mooks that might otherwise be targeting his squishy friends. 

Beau: Beau is also lovely, so lovely that she takes precisely the opposite approach to Fjord in battle. The nature of what she does means she is in the enemy’s face. Grappled in every other fight (3/4 of fights?) and on the main? Thinks escaping from the grapple is a fuckin’ waste of time. She’s right where she wants to be, punching your lights out, and learning how better to destroy you all the while. And sure, it might be dangerous, especially when the creature holding your limp unconscious body splashes acid whenever it’s damaged, but hey. The logical upgrade to punching ghosts is to be a punching ghost. So for this violent, curious bean, you have:

Sentinel. I’m sorry, did you forget who you were fighting? You’re fighting Beau. You’re not fighting anyone else. And she is going to stay in your face, whether you like it or not.

Step of the Wind. Used less often for running away from things than running towards things, like things she wants to punch. But also for running towards other goals--like the Plank King who can put an end to the fighting on the docks, like her friend who is burning in lava and needs to be rescued. The reason she has so much movement, you see, is so she can drag your sorry ass out of trouble.

Stun. And that’s why she’s not leaving your space. The power that gets all of the worst creatures completely destroyed. Bye bye giants, bye bye Lorenzo, bye bye Krynn warrior--no, fuck! Well, whoever was responsible for offing the spellcaster is responsible for that, not Beau.

Extract Aspects. Wherein her punches and curious nature help her friends fight more effectively. Hey--hey CALEB! They’re not super wise! Wait--is Caleb down again? Fuck! JESTER! They’re not super wise!

Caleb: The easiest way to describe Caleb is to say that he has two battle modes. By and large, he is the nice and helpful support caster, making his friends more powerful and his foes a lot weaker while he ducks as much as he can out of the line of fire. But there’s another side to Caleb....when things truly go to hell, he brings hellfire raining down upon you, giving no fucks about anything but death. Leaves scores of incinerated bodies in his wake. Makes Fjord do a happy jig. So for him, you have:

Haste. Along with expeditious retreat, this is the spell that leads the whole party to just take it as gospel that Caleb is “as fast as balls.” In general, Caleb casts Haste on people less as a kind of strategy and more to display in his kooky way his love or favoritism or Desire for Friendship. Wants to get on Beau’s good side after telling her his secrets? She gets all the hastes. Feels guilty about leaving Nott to nearly get mauled to death by a dragon? She gets Haste. Needs to demonstrate to a stressed-out Fjord that he supports him in these trying times? Haste. And even if it’s not combat, we should never forget Hasted chopsticks to show love and friendship for Jester. Caleb....maybe you should use your words instead of your spell components, yeah?

Slow. Fuck you, you are not attacking his friends. Bye bye multiattack, bye bye, crazy AC. He’s so keen on saving his friends that he never even manages to wait for Caduceus to make landing the spell easier for him. It’s like a debuffing race between those two.

Fireball. From Caleb, fireball is a death sentence. You have the fleeing giant, but also...........all those pirates. All those gnolls. When Caleb casts Fireball, chances are it’s when he’s passed the point of caring about his own well-being and is only interested in fucking up other people. Downed with a crossbow bolt and just barely revived by Fjord, his only thought is to stumble forward, bleeding profusely, and finish what he started--make everything blow up.

Counterspell/Wall of Fire. So far, used in tandem, and to accomplish the same purpose--to put a big middle finger up at other spellcasters. His goal is to block their line of sight to his important people, bonus points if he can also light some people on fire, and if you even think about fucking with his spell he will smack whatever you try to the ground. Even half dead from exhaustion, he’s just better than you, and he’ll let you know it.

Nott: Like Fjord, she is all about guerilla tactics, about distracting and attacking, and hiding to attack again. She really likes attacking, and has the kill count to prove it. Also like Fjord, Nott is invested in the purchase and dispersal of healing potions--to the point where she annoyed him by buying the potions he requested (so that he could give them to people in trouble) only to keep them herself (so that she could give them to people in trouble). But unlike Fjord, she utilizes the running strategy not to get herself or others to safety necessarily, but rather as another form of distraction, to draw attention to herself and away from the others. For her, you have:

Phantasmal Force. The spell most likely to make her turn up her nose at Fjord and say, “but do you need me to make the illusion even more realistic?” She takes a great deal of pride and joy in it. Absolutely wonderful--a spell to distract in creative ways, to control other people to “thinking things that aren’t real,” the targets justify the illusion, and it deals damage! While Nott uses it for distraction, she also employs it for more creative purposes, like making Avantika relax and change priorities by thinking her journal was recovered.

Bonus Action Disengage. Or more strikingly, not disengaging. Nott will run like hell, and she will take the hit so that the people she loves won’t.

Bonus Action Hide. When the going gets tough, crawl behind something and wait it out, or wait for a good shot. Sometimes works brilliantly--other times what you’re hiding in is a burning building or beneath a bridge actively being collapsed on top of you. The moral of the story Nott takes from this is, running is probably better. At which point you do what you’re more used to--dashing. 

Fury of the Small. "That’s my secret. I’m always small.” There’s an interesting commentary to this being a goblin racial trait, because in Nott’s case it probably isn’t fury at things bigger than her so much as fury at being made a goblin, a fury that only grows more potent with time, and more deadly.

Jester: Imagination that kills you, with humor and cuteness! You have to wonder if the pink bits on her dress are floral designs or blood splatters. This woman is a terror, and a person who loves to enter the fray--to the point of picking bar fights with her friends for the thrill of it! You might think, “oh, the cleric wants to get in my face to hurt me, I’ll just make her suffer” but the truth is, the one suffering is going to be you. 

Spiritual Weapon. As Iconic a weapon as Fjord’s falchion, and used a lot more frequently. Bludgeons people until they’re nothing more than bloodstains on the ground. Other clerics wish they were as good. Especially Shakaste. Poor Shakaste.

Invoke Duplicity. There to help her friends whenever Jester can’t--or shouldn’t--get somewhere herself. Will fight furniture when Jester needs to look around for a way to help Fjord. Will walk over lava to harm a giant as a distraction. Will, sometimes, be sent over to heal someone who needs it. The beauty of it is that, besides distracting and protecting, it allows her to be wherever she is most needed for a spell.

Inflict Wounds. Jester likes one thing above all, and it is to fuck people up. She’ll do it through her duplicate or she’ll do it herself, but one way or the other she’s going to wind her hands around you and make you bleed through your eyeballs. She’ll cast it on hydras. She’ll cast it on dragons. She’ll cast it on fire giants. She’ll cast it on her best friend who thought that this was a friendly brawl. And it is. Jester is nearly always friendly when she’s destroying you.

Hellish Rebuke. Unless she’s not being friendly. Once upon a time, she had a quip for when she was attacked. Now she will scream and cry out, and just the sound of it will send icy pain to whoever dared to hurt her.

Caduceus: Of everyone in the M9, the most averse to close combat, or more broadly to making a target of himself, ever. Is surprised and upset whenever creatures get close to him, or get it into their heads to attack him. He’s the support. You shouldn’t even notice he’s there. Here are some bugs--how about you attack those? What do you mean he has to get close to do touch-based healing--nope, nope, healing word it is, and only after people are unconscious to maximize its usefulness.

Hidden Step. He really doesn’t want you to notice that he’s here. If he doesn’t do this, he might try literally sinking into the ground to avoid you.

Bane. The quintessential Caduceus spell. Aptly named for how miserable it makes all his enemies. Works beautifully both for protecting those who are close to the enemy, and gels very nicely with Jester fucking shit up and Fjord distracting the enemy and whatever the hell Caleb is planning to do if....if they fucking wait for him to cast it..............

Sentinel at Death’s Door. He really doesn’t want his friends to die. It’s expensive. And there’s a certain impatient ass of a wizard who just might have died instantly if he hadn’t been hovering around him at the time. Sigh.

Path to the Grave. Caduceus is not one to get his hands dirty. Well, dirt is fine, but not so much the living blood of his foes. No, he likes to deal his damage by proxy, through his bug swarm but especially through Yasha. She already deals so much damage, and isn’t it beautiful to watch her deal twice as much of it? Bonus points if it makes Yasha look like the big scary target, and not him.

Yasha: As always, Yasha is a hard one for me, because I want to distinguish Travis-Yasha from Ashley-Yasha, but the fact of it is I haven’t seen much of Ashley-Yasha for a while. So it’s hard. But there’s one thing in particular that has stood out to me about Yasha and the way she works, and that is 

Rage. Or rather, her hesitation to rage. She’s a fighting machine who isn’t happy being a fighting machine, and there are so many times she chooses not to fly into a rage and start hitting things when she thinks being calm and talking things out is an option. She asks the lightning-creature a question, asks if it was sent from the Stormlord. “Yeah...he’s going to attack you,” Matt says. But that’s the important thing--she didn’t instigate. Ever. She didn’t get angry first. She waits, and tries everything other than the killing, until she’s provoked past the point of reason. You could even argue this as a story justification for her low initiative rolls--she just doesn’t want to get angry and attack. Not unless she has to.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Untamed TAZ Balance AU? Don't have to write anything, just consider that (is Wen Ning Lucretia in this or is he too nice for that)

NHS IS LUCRETIA, NHS IS ABSOLUTELY LUCRETIA, I HAVE THOUGHTS, my girlfriend yelled at me for these thoughts.  Hell this got long, I’ve literally been saving it in my drafts until Tumblr fixed the Read More issue.

WWX is Taako, JC is Magnus, WQ is Merle, JYL is in the umbrella (became a lich to keep her brother from doing it), WN is the Red Robe (became a lich because he thought it seemed reasonable), NHS is Lucretia, XXC is Davenport, LWJ and LXC are mutually Kravitz (LXC sets his bro up with the death criminal wizard), Wen Zhuliu is John Vore, LSZ is Angus but also a baby Reaper

ONE

So Wei Wuxian isn’t really a wizard, is the thing.  Like, he does the wizard magic, and apparently he has strong Wizard Vibes because wherever he travels, people ask him if he can solve their magical bullshit problems, but he’s, like, barely a wizard.  He’s an inventor, technically, except that a few years back some stuff went explosively awry while he worked with this traveling show and–yeah.  So he’s working as a wizard because, hey, he can cast Magic Missile and he needs to eat and he’s an Evocation specialist, anyway, so it’s not like he’s out here making food from rocks.  He’s hired on with a couple other random jackasses, a fighter who took a dislike to Wei Wuxian right off the bat and a cleric with a bad temper and an itchy Sacred Flame finger, and they’re doing a job for some dwarf, or whatever.  The dwarf has a guy hired on as muscle, but he doesn’t look like much, all wide eyes and baby face.  He calls himself Qionglin, no last name, and stares at Wen Qing like he’s never seen a cleric before, and Jiang Cheng spends the entire trip to Phandolin messing with his whip, which is the stupidest weapon Wei Wuxian has ever seen.

Well, then everything immediately goes horribly wrong, though, and turns out that Jiang Cheng is pretty okay with that whip.  Qionglin (Wei Wuxian spoke to the man all of one time, but he was sweet, if a little awkward) gets himself kidnapped by a bunch of goblins, and their employer is gods-know-where with whatever a Black Spider is, and suddenly this very boring escort mission is a very not boring rescue mission.

There’s a skeleton in the cave.  Wei Wuxian takes an umbrella from it, and it crumbles into dust beneath its red robe.  There’s a very annoyed man with a sword who calls himself Song Lan and speaks in static, and he’s somehow not the weirdest part of this whole day.

Phandolin doesn’t survive its brush with the Zidian Gauntlet, and neither does Qionglin.  Wen Qing screams when he dies, and Wei Wuxian grabs her under the arms with Jiang Cheng and books it for the empty well in Song Lan’s wake, and they just hide.  

And then they go to the goddamn moon, apparently.

TWO

The goddamn moon is run by an older man with hair still a glossy black, toying with a beautifully painted white fan in his hand.  He calls himself the Director and–after some testing–hires them more or less on the spot.  Something flickers over his face when Wen Qing, bemused by her own upset, makes an offhand mention of a man named Qionglin who died when the Gauntlet brought down so much lightning that it turned Phandolin into black glass.  But it’s not Wei Wuxian’s problem, so he doesn’t worry himself over it too much.  He takes the payment offered to him by the Director’s aide, a blindfolded, stunningly handsome man in Bureau blue and white who rests his hand on his own chest and says “Xiao Xingchen” and not another word.

The Bureau is–weird.  They’ve got a giant jellyfish and a store run by–something Wei Wuxian Does Not Trust and a dorm.  Wei Wuxian laughs and kicks Jiang Cheng cheerfully in the ankle and says “Just like college, huh?” and Jiang Cheng gives him a dark look and snaps “I never went to college.”

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian says, blinking.  “Me neither.”

Whatever.  They go on a train adventure and there’s a kid, a kid who blinks and stares at Wei Wuxian like he’s seen a goddamn ghost and immediately walks up to introduce himself as Lan Sizhui, boy detective.

Wei Wuxian fucking loves this kid.  He’s not sure why this wide-eyed fifteen-year-old latched onto him so hard, but he’s smart, funny, loyal, and extremely easy to pick on.  13/10 child rating, in Wei Wuxian’s book.

(Sizhui, for his part, more or less kicks down the door to his father’s offices in the Astral Plane the second the Reclaimers are gone and shouts “I HAVE A LEAD ON WHAT HAPPENED TO THE WORLD.”)

(His father, Lan Wangji, the Grim Reaper, is very interested to hear all about it–especially when his son casually name-drops three of the biggest bounties that the Raven King, his adoptive elder brother, has ever sent him after, with the exception of that absolutely insufferably sweet-tempered lich Wen Ning.)

THREE

So…the Crystal Kingdom.

Is it Wei Wuxian’s finest hour, shouting obscure tentacle-related threats at the second crystal construct they’ve seen in the past twenty minutes?  No, probably not.  But it’s been a stressful day, they’re already down one Regulator and Song Lan is fuck-knows-where with Mianmian and, again, this is the second menacing crystal construct they’ve seen in twenty minutes.  Or maybe it’s the same one? 

Whatever, doesn’t matter.  They’re here to hunt down Meng Yao, a scientist who’s been dicking around with some seriously ill-advised necromancy and also the Philosopher’s Stone, and a crystal construct or two isn’t going to stop them.

Wei Wuxian actually physically cannot help himself, though, when the Reapers appear in the mirror, a matched set of beautiful men, and he grins broadly at the one glaring at him most viciously.  They get let go on a technicality, along with a conduit still containing Meng Shi’s memory of a vision beyond the cosmos, and Meng Yao leaves with his life and not much more.

Later, Lan Wangji is absolutely betrayed by the realization that his brother willfully set him up to be the primary go-between for the completely breathtaking deeply irritating wizard-by-way-of-death-criminal.  And that’s before the whole lich revelation.  (He does get a kiss, though, after he watches his brother pulled under by the Hunger.  That’s nice.  He hopes Wei Wuxian will mitigate the death crimes now that they’re dating.)

FOUR

The seven Relics are as follows:

The Zidian Gauntlet, which can generate a lightning blast so powerful that it can obliterate an entire city.  (Jiang Cheng–he watched the others try to lay in protections, try to make their Relics harmless, and he knew it wouldn’t work.  All the Gauntlet does is damage.  It can melt a city down to black glass, but it can’t be twisted, it can’t be made into any more of a nightmare than it already is.  He’s a fighter.  He knows all about damage, knew all about what he was making.  That doesn’t mean it didn’t kill him by inches to watch it leave a path of destruction–so much that his beloved jiejie tried to seal it away.)

The Oculus, which can make any construct real.  (Xiao Xingchen–Nie Huaisang didn’t take everything.  He doesn’t remember the mission, or his own past.  Something strange got confused in the process, and he lost most of his speech.  But he remembers how to fight, handles his sword as cleanly and effectively as ever, and he remembers that he doesn’t think much of Nie Huaisang’s combat skills.  Or maybe it’s just really obvious that Nie Huaisang isn’t much of a fighter.  Regardless, Xiao Xingchen insisted on accompanying him, before–before.  Then they went into the Felicity Wilds, and…Xue Yang is honestly delighted.  He’s never managed to ruin someone so badly on the way into Wonderland before.  It’s just a shame that Nie Huaisang sent Xiao Xingchen away before they reached the doors.)

The Healer’s Sash, which can manipulate natural forces like the wind, the tides, and tectonic plates just as easily as it can manipulate a heartbeat or a pair of lungs.  (Wen Qing–she prays to Pelor, the Dawnfather, the healer and Lord of Light, but she’s long since lost her faith in him as anything but a contracted boss.  It’s a shock to everyone including her when she’s granted a right arm made of glass and magic after losing it.  She was so determined to make a Relic that could be used for good, but–well.  She supposes she should have known better.)

The Philosopher’s Stone, which can more or less transform anything into anything.  (Jiang Yanli–she’s a Transmutation wizard, she’s been feeding the crew of the Starblaster for a hundred years on whatever she can pull together.  If the right person found the Stone, it would have ended world hunger.  The wrong person found the stone.  Jiang Yanli tried her damnedest to hunt it down, but she found the Gauntlet first, and, well–she already became a lich to stop one younger brother from doing it.  It’s not a struggle to decide that she’s going to take responsibility for saving Jiang Cheng from his own guilt.  Then things go horribly wrong, and she spends the next twelve years in an umbrella.)

The Temporal Chalice, which offers complete control over time.  (Wen Ning–he was a strict scholar until his sister was contacted about the IPRE’s creation, but he always did want to travel, and his theories about bonds were too good for Xiao Xingchen to pass up having on his crew.  Everything he’s done since they lost their home system has been about trying not to leave his family, about trying for second chances, he became a lich for them, he’s done everything to stay with them, of course his Relic is a second chance generator.)

The Animus Flute, which offers control over the spirits of the dead and, in the hands of a sufficiently competent expert, the living.  (Wei Wuxian–he’s watched his brother, his sister, his friends, die so many times.  He’s terrified of immortality, but he’s most terrified of being alone.  He meant to make something that could keep the dead present, so that they would never have to fear being left behind again.  Watching it rip Jiang Cheng’s soul clean out of his body in Xue Yang’s hands is the worst thing Wei Wuxian can remember, even after everything is over.)

The Bulwark, which Nie Huaisang never did explain to anyone, but took the shape of a hand-painted fan.  (Nie Huaisang lost the only person who mattered to him when the Hunger ate their home, and then as he slowly, painstakingly, rebuilt something like a family, he had to watch them suffer and die for a hundred years.  And then he watched them win, and grieve like dying all over again for the winning.  He’s sorry they suffered for his actions.  He’s not sorry for what he did.)

FIVE

Wen Zhuliu didn’t mean to make his whole plane give up.  But he had spent his whole life being used, and it all just seemed so pointless.  It all just seemed so pointless.  There was always someone stronger, always something bigger, always a rule he couldn’t break, always something, and he started talking, started telling people as much, and--

Wen Qing is about the farthest thing in the fucking world from a peacemaker by nature, if you ask her, but she’s a healer first, last, and most of all.  And, she thinks as she watches the sun sink with a very tired man crumbling away at her side, she might be the only person in the worlds who ever noticed that Wen Zhuliu needed a healer.

(They aren’t from the same plane, but--some of the others have found distant family, on their new home.  It’s an unanswerable question, if they might have been family, a few dimensions removed.  Wen Ning still thinks about it.)

[mountain-ash-and-rusted-iron]

this is an oc masterpost of all my haf-formed ocs languishing on pinterest with their messy aesthetics and unedited blurbs, in roughly chronological order of their creation, plus sorted by fandom. this post is only asoiaf, harry potter, hunger games, and riverdale, cos i have tooooooo many original characters otherwise and the post was getting incredibly long. (note that i love my ocs but these one’s are not polished or even the final versions of their characters, i just wanted to post them lol)

under a read more, if you’re on mobile start scrolling i guess, sorry,,,

Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire:

Laeya Targeryen: (child of Rhaella and Aerys Targaryen, born 280 AC - three years older than Danaerys) 

Fearful of her impending marriage, Laeya is eleven when she takes her younger sister and flees across the sea to Dorne, hiding herself and Dany with dyed hair and badly controlled magic. As Leia and Dani Sand they learn to live normally. At 15 Leia joins the Royal Guard and secures Dany work as a tailor's apprentice. When she is 17, an assassin tries to kill her in front of the Dornish court and everything changes...

- so laeya straight up has magic, which im considering an extension of the dragon thing dany has - she can control flame and for the disguise uses her ‘inner fire’ to make her eyes white-blue like super hot flames, cos the purple eyes are super distinctive. and then she’s discovered and suddenly politics are happening. honestly she’s entirely a way for me to remove the child marriage bits of the targaryen storyline (stop marrying off your twelve-year-old baby sister viserys u asshole) - in terms of meta/basics, laeya doesn’t have a fc cos most of my early ocs don’t, and bcs i picture her as emilia clarke with faked dark hair and blue eyes lol

and a quick aesthetic below:

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Kyrra Snow: (child of Robert Baratheon and Maery Snow, birthdate ???)

Kyrra Snow is the eldest natural-born child of Robert Baratheon, current King of Westeros, and daughter of Maery Snow, a Southron (but Northern-born) merchant woman. After her mother realises Kyrra was growing up a little too much like her father in looks and needed to leave the far South before she caught the wrong sort of attention, Kyrra was sent off to travel with her aunt and cousins. She is 17 and heading further north, to Winter Town, when Jon Arryn dies.

- kyrra’s another child of everyone’s favourite asshole king, and she’s got a lot of people after her head, but she just wants to travel and continue her work as a simple peddler. (riiip poor girl) honestly she’s not that developed but yolo -

aes:

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Brynn Stark: (child of Catelyn and Eddard Stark, Robb’s twin sister)  

Brynn believes in honour and family, and she is loyal to Winterfell and the North above all else. Likes - archery, embroidery and weaving. Betrothed to [some young Northern lord] to keep the bonds between the Norther families strong.

-i basically made brynn as a contrast to sansa’s pro-southnness and excessive femininity and arya’s anger and desire for swords (relatable mood tho lmao). so brynn is here to mediate, extoll the virtues of both needlework and weapons, make a decent marriage to someone she likes, if not loves, and hold down the fort in the North while shit gets increasingly messier in the South. and a possible faceclaim is Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey - 

aes:

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Rosienne Lannister: (child of Joanna and Tywin Lannister, born 273 AC)

Rose is looked at by the realm with dismissal, a consolation prize for her father, a spare daughter only useful for matchmaking, but at least able-bodied and pretty, unlike her brother. After a long betrothal, Rose is married to Willas Tyrell at the age of eighteen, cementing her role as the next Lady of High Garden...

- Rosie/Rose is a bonus Lannister, bcs why not. likes cyvasse and the harp, soft and kind and maternal, powerful in her own way. originally she was from a minor divergence where joanna survives tyrion’s birth and goes on to have another kid, but not sure if i’ll keep that aspect, so for now she’s tyrion’s twin -

and her aes (yes that quote is cropped, no i don’t care rn):

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honourable mentions to my other got underdeveloped got/asoiaf ocs who need more effort before i post properly about them:

Tamlen Storm, a rookery apprentice (working for the Maester of House Tully, managing the ravens) who may or may not be a reincarnated si-oc trying to save westeros, 

and an unnamed northern huntress who stumbled into the plot somehow and wants her normal life back (entirely inspired by Keira Knightley as Gwyn in Princess of Thieves, when she’s doing archery stuff and looking v butch).

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Harry Potter:

Taurus ‘Ara’ Lestrange:  (child of Bellatrix and Roldolphous Lestrange, born 1978) 

Raised by the Goblins after a legal mix-up following her parents' imprisonment in Azkaban, Taurus is good with a sword and aiming to be the next Minister of Magic. She attends Hogwarts with the other magical kids her age, under the fake identity Ara Burke, unknown cousin of a minor half-blood family. When the Potter brat’s drama starts destroying her change at an education just as her fourth year, her OWL prep year, begins, Ara intervenes.

- im tangentially aware that as bellatrix’s kid she’s almost occupying the place of whats-her-name from the cursed child, but considering that i know nothing about the cursed child and don’t care about it anyway, i have elected to ignore this. her actual parent might turn out to be some smitten half-blood from a minor branch of the Greengrass family, or it might actually be Rodolphous, who knows. slightly inspired by the fic ‘Harry Crow’ (by robst on ff.net) where harry is raised by the goblins -

messy aes:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Valerian Potter: (child of Lily and James Potter, born 1980)

After the Potter twins’ parents are murdered by Voldemort, they’re dumped on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive. Dealing with two traumatised magical orphans, Petunia and Vernon Dursley turn to violence and neglect to stay in control, acting far more harshly than expected. With the arrival of two Hogwarts letters, life gets complicated incredibly quickly. (Self-sufficient and scarred from abuse, Val and Harry are immediately Sorted into Slytherin). 

- val’s fic is basically an angst fest, okay,,, -

aes:

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and shout-outs to: holly addison potter, a half-baked reincarnation si-oc (i love that concept a lot, can u tell) and my fav girl thea dursley, who already has her own fic and so isn’t getting a proper spot in this post 

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The Hunger Games:

Asher: (District Two, age 18) 

[rip no blurb for asher]

-asher is a career from two, who wins the 70th games. mostly im focusing on her recovery and how the games function in two, with training volunteers and mentoring and collecting sponsors, plus eventually the rebellion. lots of the D2 headcanon i have is inspired by @/lorata but i defintely made a distinct effort to have my own stuff, cos where’s the fun in plagiarism -

aes for Asher’s Games:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  Rowan Everdeen: (District Twelve, age 19)

Rowan will do anything to protect her family. This extends to going to Head Peacekeeper Cray on a cold winters night, charging the most she can get for her virginity.  It extends to Reaping Day, when she steps out in front of the crowd and says “I volunteer as tribute” in the steadiest voice she can muster.  It extends to clawing her way out of the Arena, bloody and exhausted, with blades in her hands and violence kept tucked behind her teeth. It extends further, to a simple ‘Yes, President Snow’ when he coldly, carefully implies her family might meet with an accident if she doesn’t play the good little Victor (and fuck the people who pay the Capitol for her company). It extends to joining the Rebellion, to looking President Coin directly in the eye and agreeing to be a Mockingjay, a symbol for the people to rally around.

- another everdeen kiddo! as the big sister, rowan volunteers for prim, and goes through the Games - she’s a healer and a hunter, and a decent enough actor that she can manage interviews and a camera presence, unlike katniss. rowan also pairs well with a minor au i have, where the reapings are spaced out over a week and official training is a longer, giving the capitol a nice, long buildup to get excited and place bets, etc., and giving the poor, underfed tributes from the outer districts a better chance, which makes for more interesting television and better Games -

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Adrasteia Crane: (The Capitol, age 28) Unlike her big brother, Adrasteia doesn’t want to be a Gamemaker. Instead, she wants to create clothes, artwork, to enrapture the Capitol. She wants to be a Games stylist. After years of design school, of working her way up the ranks, first a PA’s assistant, and then fetching and carrying for Twelve’s prep team, and then eventually on a prep team for the dull tributes from Six, Adrasteia Crane finally has what she wants - the position of stylist for District Three’s male tribute in 74th Hunger Games. 

- tbh adrasteia is only seneca crane’s sister because i couldn’t think of a suitable last name for her lmao. i think i’d actually prefer her to be unattached to any major canon players. however, his death is a good motivation for her to join the rebellion, so we’ll see. she’s got a bit of the capitol fashion thing going too, with soft pink hair and diamond-effect skin on her face and shoulders -

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also bonus hunger games content: another oc, Sarsaparilla Verran, from District Eleven, fifteen and alone when she goes into the Games. An orphan, her siblings lost to the Community Home system years ago, her relatives dead or uncaring. So, Rilla is a wee lonely bab tbh. she did not want this, unlike most of my other hg ocs, and she’s not excited for weeks of murder. she just wants her family back, but since that isn’t possible, she’ll build a new family instead. and uuhhhhh,  spoiler alert, she dies before she can have this ://///

and my hunger games aus - a canon divergence where katniss joins the careers instead of peeta, her desire to go home to her family outweighing her reactive hate for the concept of training/volunteering to kill other teens, and a fem!Haymitch au where she’s a little wiser to the dark side of the capitol before she commits acts of rebellion (she still rebels anyway tho, just smarter).

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Riverdale:

Cat Cooper: (middle child of Alice and Hal Cooper) Cat Cooper (17) is the black sheep of the Cooper family. Her piercings, brightly dyed hair and connections to the Southside Serpents make her the odd one out among her sisters and constantly at odds with Alice Cooper. Cat’s life is occupied with her Serpent friends, work at a local coffee shop, and training - martial arts, supplemented with cross country, gymnastics and swimming. Until her older sister is shipped off to places unknown and her baby sister starts getting caught up in murder investigation with the absent Serpent heir... 

- haven’t decided between Catelyn or Catherine for Cat’s full name lmao. she used to be Kit, actually, but I changed it cos i prefer Kit to solely be my divergent oc (kit serafim). Cat is an ADHD disaster who loves her sisters and her friends and wants to get the hell out of Riverdale on a sports scholarship (she does either boxing or karate mainly, need to figure that bit out) -

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Georgie Andrews: (child of Mary and Fred Andrews)

Georgie likes soft drinks, cheerleading, and hanging out with the Blossom twins and Polly Cooper, their closest friends and a welcome distraction from their own problems. After Polly and Jason vanish, Georgie’s support system is almost gone, and they has to deal with everything they’ve been bottling up, just in time for Fred Andrews to get shot.

- also just angst ngl.  so georgie’s gender is basically ???, they enjoy cheerleading and not much else. they spend half their time dealing with depression, by trying to ignore stressful/hard topics and focus on the good side of everything. this isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism and has the fun side effect of pissing of the people around him when she seems unable to be serious or empathetic to someone else's pain (bcs she’s too busy deflecting for the sake of her own fragile mental health), so it gets fun when fred is shot and archie starts getting in too deep with the lodges -

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Sera Thornstone: (parents ???) Southside Serpent. Going to the Riverdale Community College and running errands for FP Jones. And secretly meeting up with her Ghoulie lover down by the Sweetwater where nobody goes. 

- everything about sera is vague and undecided lmao. but she has a ghoulie gf/bf/nbf? and they’re hiding that they were down by the river on the 4th of july, cos a serpent is an immediate suspect. going to community college to work on getting general credits before saving up for fancy school for law or journalism. the aes isn’t entirely accurate cos sera’s built from the remains of another serpent oc who i scrapped (she does have a baseball bat tho) -

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and honourable mentions to jen johnson and octavia blossom-murphy, my other riverdale ocs who actually have content, plus an in-development unnamed oc who gets adopted from the soqm by the Muggs family and growsup with Ethel. and my riverdale role reversal au, which i will never write but have some nice aesthetics for under the tag wip: bughead role reversal au.

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all my mini-aesthetics here are unsourced images/from pinterest. any similarities to other people or characters, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

alrighty that’s it. now i have to tag this behemoth argh