#anyway the original source is the sun so clearly the story was given to them by liams team

[statementlou]

"A SOURCE" this fucking fandom I swear- the source is the tabloids (and before that Liam's PR team) but the real omitted info here (other than WHERE, WHAT SOURCE, WHY) is that the articles are primarily focused on Liam and his influencer girlfriend Kate Cassidy announcing a split, for anyone actually wanting to keep up with all the Liam news; yes they will have done that to get the music news into the papers but it is also information that exists and I would like to be informed about. The articles say that she moved out of his house and back to the US.

[yanderelmk]

Don't you find it a bit hypocritical to be preaching the respect of celibacy/asexuality/sexual and romantic disinterest of characters from - let's be honest here, a fantasy adventure novel that was quite biased towards the theology of Buddhism versus Dao/Taoism and not religious text or scripture as you seem to imply, where romance and sex weren't the focus to begin with so weren't going to be focused on anyway in any character driven narrative.

When you yourself are head-canoning/playing out your own romantic views on characters who - despite their marked difference from the source material - also have given no canonical showing of romantic or sexual interest in others?

Ohhh boom, professor, you totally burned me. Oh how will I ever recover? /s Look kid, you clearly think having a keyboard and an internet connection means you're some kind of high-and-mighty literati with an IQ the rest of us can't even comprehend, but I'll try to break this down for you:

Romance and sex are major points within Journey to the West, specifically abstaining from them. Zhu Bajie's biggest struggle is in not chasing after women every five seconds. It's what his whole arc is based around.

Not only that, but the Tang Priest himself was nearly raped and was sexually harassed several times throughout Journey to the West by several female demons. So what do you mean "romance and sex weren't a focus to begin with"?

The entirety of JTTW is about Buddhist principles and the path to enlightenment, and part of that is abstaining from worldly pleasures, the most dangerous of which being sex or getting married.

And to get to that second point you must have been so proud of yourself for typing: Lego Monke Kid is a children's cartoon that's clearly adventure-focused. They're not going to spend time showcasing every single character's romantic/sexual preferences. We can make inferences based on what the writer's Tweet or hint at in their show, but to expect them to outright display their preferences when extremely popular LGBTQ+ kid shows like Steven Universe and Owl House have been cancelled for doing less is downright foolish and shows just how ignorant you are.

Some of those tweets, by the by, have included creators lamenting that they can't make SpicyNoodles canon. Pigsy and Tang have already been as close as they can be to a canon MLM couple without saying "We're gay and in love". By "canonical showing", I think you mean you're one of those people that thinks if the characters don't do exactly that you refuse to count it as canon. If any of the characters were confirmed by the creators (onscreen or off) to be aromantic or not interested in romance, I would not write for them. LMK is already severely inaccurate with writers intent on distorting basic historical facts, and not only that it's not meant to be taken as part of the Buddhist mythos.

That's like saying Hercules is part of Roman mythos (or if we go with the inaccuracies- Greek mythos). "As I seem to imply"? Well, smartass, have an excerpt from china.usc.edu (and, as I'm certain you need pointed out, that .edu means it's from a verified educational source):

A strong background in Chinese folk RELIGION.

Because you need everything spelled out for you...my grief was with people who take the Buddha himself Sun Wukong and try to erase the fact that he is celibate, and that as a Buddha he continues to be celibate. Doing otherwise would show a lust for earthly connections, something all Buddhas are meant to shed and all enlightened beings have shed.

Every story in the Bible is just that- a story. The same for things relating to the Greek, Roman, and Norse gods. However, you don't seem to be dogging after them for being "fantasy stories", hmm? I suggest you take a look at your biases.

The overall point: JTTW shows us the origins of two Buddhas, an arhat, and a Celestial Immortal while also showing us lore relating to other gods. LMK is a kid's cartoon that doesn't even get the fundamentals right and is out-and-out fiction. If I were writing for Sun Wukong the Victorious Fighting Buddha, I can assure you it wouldn't be within the context of a yandere blog. But I'm not, I'm writing for the goofy children's show Sun Wukong that's so inaccurate I feel no qualms about calling him a character and writing scenarios where he gives the reader a kiss.

[dca-lunar]

“Hi!! My name’s Lunar! I’m a Daycare Attendant in the Pizzaplex with my brothers, Sun and Moon. Uhh... I decided to try makin’ an account here, ‘cause it seems fun. So yeah! Ask me stuff, or something.”

(Alright, let’s freaking do this)

--RULES--

Be nice, please. This feels like a given, but I haven’t really done this before, so advice and patience would be greatly appreciated. Also, please don’t get mad if you feel like I didn’t characterize Lunar correctly or something. While I will try to keep it mostly the same as the original, this is still MY interpretation of Lunar, which WILL include my personal headcanons and ideas about Lunar, which should be made obvious by the above image.

Keep all interactions SFW, as the Mun is a minor. Very basic questions, like if Lunar knows “where babies come from” or if they know what sex is are ok, but that’s it.

Shipping is allowed, with other characters or OCs, as well as multiple at the same time, just not with any of the other DCAs that show up in SAMS (Sun, Moon, Eclipse, Bloodmoon), as Lunar considers them his brothers. Other fan-made DCAs should be fine, as long as it’s different enough to be considered a separate character and not just an alternate version of one of the aforementioned DCAs and they don’t have a sibling relationship with any of the aforementioned DCAs. If you want to have a ship-based interaction with Lunar, please communicate that as clearly as possible with me, otherwise all interactions will be interpreted as purely platonic (except for Roxanne. UNLESS communicated to be intentionally Roxanne x Lunar OR intentionally NOT Roxanne x Lunar, Lunar will be portrayed with a CRUSH on Roxanne, but other than that, having a platonic relationship with her.)

DNI anti-LGBTQ, aroace exclusionists, pro-shippers, pedos/pedo supportive, incest supportive, and NSFW accounts.

Other rules will be set if there is a problem (I highly doubt that there will be, but I jus’ wanna be safe-)

--About Mun and Muse--

Muse

Lunar

Ageless, 08/11

Male, He/They/It

Pansexual

ND

ESFP-T

Likes to create things. Drawings, game mods, clay models, plushies, etc... They’ll try their hand at anything he can get the stuff for!

Favorite colors are pastel blues and light greys.

Sometimes forgets color exist. Yes, I just stated their favorite colors, but like- There's a setting he found when moving bodies that can just completely disable his ability to see colors, or even just specific colors, that it likes to mess with a lot, especially when they're feeling overstimulated or overwhelmed. But they forget to turn it back on sometimes-

Has been registered in the Pizzaplex’s database as an official daycare-based animatronic. They saw an opportunity for more unpaid help for their dwindling daycare and decided to let Lunar continue to help, after an observation of Lunar helping Sun with the kids during business hours.

Usually wears a short, blue dress with bloomers (to make it poofy) and a ribbon wrapped around his waist with a crescent moon on it, a big white hood with the same shape at the bottom, and a third crescent on his forehead, held there with the help of some string.

Lunar still shares a body with Moon, but they made an agreement that Lunar can change his outfit if they know it’s going to be out for more than a few hours, and vice-versa.

Mun

Rook (@rook2ii)

Minor, 08/08

Genderfluid, She/They

Omnisexual

ND (Diagnosed ADHD and likely anxiety)

INTP-T

(OOC stuff will be in parenthesis AND italics, like this! Just so that other things written in parenthesis or italics aren’t confused for OOC, which they probably wouldn’t anyway-)

Favorite colors are purple and orange, with yellow as a close 3rd.

Likes to draw and write, usually making sketches, pixel art, character designs, short stories, songs, poems or origami. Usually creates while in a school environment, as lots of emotions seem to come from there, which is an excellent source or creativity and inspiration. Can and does draw digitally on occasion, but my tablet (not drawing tablet) kinda sucks-

Likes learning languages. Isn’t fluent in any besides English as of yet though. Currently trying to learn Spanish, German, and ASL.

Way too many personas, most of which aren’t even used very much. (Only 4 or 5 of them are used consistently)

[robininthelabyrinth]

One of my favourite Untamed moments of NHS so far is the soft smile of "ah, home sweet home" while everybody else are clearly "is the Unclean Realm a supervillain lair?" So, a prompt: 5 times the Nie sect's perfectly ordinary sect things got everybody else freaked out, much to NHS' puzzlement.

1

Even Nie Huaisang would agree with the general consensus that he’s a useless good-for-nothing, which is why he doesn’t understand everyone’s expressions when he helped out in making dinner when they’re all night-hunting. Scorn he’d be used to, but everyone is just goggling as if he’d suddenly summoned lightning.

“Were you not planning on eating the boar or something?” he asked, looking around in confusion.

“You broke down the entire carcass into edible pieces in less than an incense stick’s worth of time,” Jiang Cheng said, voice a bit strangled. “Not just the meat pieces, but the offal, too.”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “My clan were originally butchers. It’d be weirder if I didn’t know how to do that.”

“Could you do it to a person?” Wei Wuxian asked, eyes alight with mischief.

Jiang Cheng smacked him.

2

During the preparations for the Phoenix Mountain hunt, Wei Wuxian gets a brilliant idea and starts writing furiously on pieces of paper in one of the Jin sect’s sitting room.

“Can someone get me some blood? Human, ideally, but pig will do,” he asked at one point, having already scabbed up all his fingers in making draft talismans, and when a bowl was put next to him, he doesn’t think too much about it, only happy that it didn’t seem to ever empty.

After a while, he looked up and noticed that Baxia was propped up on the table next to him, dripping blood into his bowl. Definitely human, too. There was no apparent source for it.

He stared for a while, then went to find Nie Mingjue.

“Did you just stab someone?” he demanded, and Nie Mingjue shook his head. “Then does your sword just regularly drip blood?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “I’ve stabbed a lot of people. Why wouldn’t it?”

3

“I don’t know what the problem is,” Nie Huaisang protested. “You wanted me to watch him, he was tired, he asked for a bedtime story!”

“You told him the story about people getting made into meat pies!” Jiang Cheng hollered, holding a wailing Jin Ling in his arms. “Right after he’d had meat pies at dinner!”

“It’s tradition to tell that story over meat pies. Don’t you remember the first time I told you that story? You and Wei Wuxian both turned green.”

Jiang Cheng glared at him and comforted Jin Ling to no avail.

Nie Huaisang tapped the child’s shoulder with his fan. “Stop crying. You know what happens to little boys that lose their temper.”

Jin Ling stopped crying at once, his face pale.

Jiang Cheng looked at him, then back at a smiling Nie Huaisang, then back again. “What did you tell him now?!”

4

“Today’s not a good day for a visit,” Nie Huaisang said apologetically. “We get ghosts today.”

“You’re a cultivation clan and you allow ghosts?” Jiang Cheng scoffed.

“They come here to be purified. Anyway, they’re really cute ghosts.”

“…what?”

“Mostly animals,” Nie Huaisang said. “Side effect of cultivation by butchering – at first it was mostly livestock, but after a while we started getting all sorts. Drowned kittens, run over puppies, that sort of thing.”

“…there are puppies?” Jiang Cheng said blankly. “Ghost puppies?”

“Mm, yes. Do you want to pet some of them before they go? They’re usually not powerful enough to take more than a very small amount of yang energy, and petting them makes the purification process easier.”

“Right. Show me the way.”

5

Nie Mingjue was unconscious, having put himself between his sworn brothers and their enemies as they tried desperately to escape the trap they’d been lured into; he’d been stabbed, cut or whipped a number of times before they finally managed to break their way into the cave and escape. Lan Xichen had put him on his back, while Jin Guangyao carried Baxia, his fingers dipping down to caress the blade every few minutes.

“As much as I appreciate dage’s sacrifice, he’s probably the only one who knows his way around this maze,” Jin Guangyao said after they’d been wandering for nearly a shichen without finding anything but more cave, but he settles down a bit after Lan Xichen gives him a look. “I didn’t mean anything by it, erge, you know that. I just meant that it would be nice if we had a guide – ah!”

“What happened?”

“Dage’s saber – it bit me!”

Lan Xichen blinked. “…I’m sorry?”

“The beast head on the hilt! It bit me!” Jin Guangyao took another step, yelped again, and retreated.

Lan Xichen frowned thoughtfully and looked ahead, then turned to go down another fork. “Anything now?”

“No, it’s quiet. Why do you – no. Erge. We’re not following the directions given by a saber! Who would do that?”

“It’s not a saber, it’s Baxia,” Lan Xichen said calmly. “It’s fine. Nie Mingjue always did say Baxia had a better sense of direction than he did.”

“I thought he just meant that he didn’t have any,” Jin Guangyao said. “I didn’t think he meant…”

He trailed off, a strange look coming into his eyes.

“Do you think Baxia took it personally, back in the Sun Scorching Palace, when I said – ow!”

“Maybe you should consider apologizing,” Lan Xichen suggested, doing his best to hide a smile.

[qqueenofhades]

To be absolutely honest I really disliked mal, like he is so plain and boring and … single minded? Kinda dumb 🤷🏻‍♀️ i feel Alina and Kirigan are much more balanced. Well, if what you say it’s true and they’re gonna change stuff I really would like to see those two together!!!!! Tbh Mal is kind of the only character I disliked on the show, and the chemistry is nothing like Darklina’s. They gave me more siblings vibes

Aha. I don't do character or ship hate (and even when I feel it, I don't post it), but I do go in for media/writing analysis, so that's some of what we can do here. If you like Mal or Mal/Alina and don't want to read some critical views on that, probably best to scroll past this post; no hard feelings! I will also tag it mal critical for anyone who might want to filter (and for any future posts I make in this vein).

<scrolling space>

Anyway. I don't hate show!Mal (although book!Mal was definitely in my bad graces by book 2; I didn't read book 3 in part because I was like "ugh THIS guy? Really?"), but he's just... not... interesting. He is introduced to us in 1x01 with the slow-motion shot of him seeing Alina that is clearly supposed to invest us in the two of them as a couple, and from there, he just seems to exist either to worry about her or to serve her needs in finding the stag. This is no slant on Archie Renaux, who is a fine young actor and is perfectly acceptable in the role. Rather, it's a larger shortcoming of the writing and structure in both book and show, in which Mal and Alina are presented to us as Childhood Friends With a Crush and that suffices to build their bond, along with... twelve flashbacks to the meadow, or whatever it is. We're just told to be invested in them because the characters are when the story starts, but we don't get any sense of why that should be or who Mal really is as a character and why Alina is so desperate to be with him again. We're told that they are, but.... eh.

Mal is basically a plot device to give Alina motivation to reveal her powers, to provide a contrast to her life in the Little Palace, to help her get to the stag when she escapes, and be there with her when she leaves Ravka at the end of s1. And that is.. kinda how he stays, orbiting around her and being there to give her what she needs, at least some of the time. Book!Mal gets into that Yeah No Thanks territory of blaming Alina for her powers and being distracted with the Grisha war and angry when other men express attraction to her, and while they've made him (thus far) more palatable in the show, that's gonna veer hard into Nope Territory if it likewise happens. And if they do have to change the entire way a character is written in the source material to make the relationship work, that's.... not a good thing.

Leigh Bardugo and Eric Heisserer (the showrunner) have indeed said that the show will be "significantly" different from the books (as was apparent to anyone watching s1), but I doubt that will extend to changing the main character's endgame relationship. Alina's original ending in book 3, though, is just disappointing: she kills Aleksander (albeit in a poignant/tragic way), destroys the Fold, loses her Sun Summoner powers, and goes off to live with Mal in obscurity on a farm while everyone thinks she's dead. And like... I ask you... what is the point? She goes on this whole magical and epic journey and doesn't ultimately become or do or be anything more than when she started? Especially given that show!Alina explicitly says in her conversation with Genya that "Mal always dreamed of retiring to a farm, but I've never liked farms," are they going to have her arc be "oh yeah I was wrong about that, I really do like farms after all?" I repeat: eh.

Plus, aside from Aleksander, Alina has another relationship coming up (with Nikolai Lantsov, who we haven't met in the show yet), so if we're going to see her just insisting on staying with Mal because.... whatever, he's good at tracking and The Meadow, that's likewise not going to work in the visual medium and the narrative that they've set up. Especially when she's ALSO getting these hot-and-heavy Secret Midnight Visits with Aleksander and they're continuing to bond even while on opposite sides/at loggerheads. They're going to have to write something a lot more compelling than "Alina is clinging to her childhood/Mal even while Nikolai and Aleksander are objectively much more interesting and complicated characters who are both clearly into her and offering her different kinds of respect and empowerment," otherwise it's just going to happen because the narrative/writers said it should, and that.... (LOOKING AT YOU TIMELESS) doesn't... work. Especially when there's something that they don't want to explore just because it would ruin their pre-existing plan. So. Yeah.

Anyway, I'm old and tired, I don't do shipwars, I do know how things happen in the original source material so I'll just have to wait and see what or any of it they decided to change, and as noted, I am well practiced in using fic to change things, lol. So I'm not gonna get TOO worked up about it, but these are my thoughts.

[mornyavie]

Glossary of references in The Bifrost Incident

 It’s Very Long and yet also not really complete. If there are any questions / clarifications I can add, or I’ve messed anything up and need to fix it, let me know!

The tl;dr is that nearly every word in the album draws from either Norse mythology or the Lovecraft / Cthulhu mythos, directly or indirectly.

@moony221b here’s that glossary that I promised forever and a day ago.

Edit: I decided to create this document of annotations (x). Lyrics taken from Genius; I’m not totally sure how accurate they are, but hopefully they help get the point across! Again, questions and complaints both welcome.

Arcomba

I can’t find anything on this, would be interested if someone knows.

Asgard

One of the Nine Worlds, specifically the one where most of the Æsir (the subset of gods most associated with humans, including the well-known ones like Thor and Odin) live.

Thus Asgard is the planet on which the most powerful inhabitants of the Yggdrasil system, and those named after the gods, are found (though the subjugation / colonization relationship does not exist in myth).

Azathoth

This one’s from Lovecraft; Azathoth is the greatest of the Outer Gods, often served and worshiped by other gods themselves. Often described as mad, a demon, a sultan, or putting it all together as the Mad Demon Sultan. Resides at “the center of the universe,” where he appears as some sort of vast, amorphous, bubbling, roiling mass of “nuclear chaos.” (Nuclear probably refers to center, not nuclear power, which didn’t really exist when this was written). Servants about him play drums and flutes.

Mentioned briefly as the train travels through the Bifrost and into his realm, and a lot of the narration in those few verses draws directly from Lovecraft’s descriptions.

Baldur

The god of light and beloved by all, Baldr was killed by Loki in his final betrayal of the gods. After the murder Loki was tracked down and imprisoned, and will escape at the start of Ragnarok. In particular, Loki used a spear made of mistletoe... or, in the album, missile two. And tricked another god into throwing it, which I think is mimicked in the distance and impersonality of the crime. Look up more of his story if you want, it’s interesting and important, but that’s the relevant info here.

Bifrost

The rainbow bridge that the gods use to travel between worlds. 

Which is, of course, directly analogous to the wormhole-ish extradimensional-ish space of “shifting, undulating hues” through which the train travels.

Edda

The Prose Edda and the Poetic Edda are the names given to two pieces of literature that are most people’s main source for Norse mythology. The Prose Edda was written by Snorri Sturluson around 1200 to teach his (mostly Christian) contemporaries about the mythology and mythological references that made up a big chunk of Norse literature. The Poetic Edda is a set of poems that serve as a major source for Norse tales.

This is partially just a way to connect our hero Lyfrassir Edda to the Norse traditions, but also definitely a reference to their (presumed) role as the main “recorder” and source of information to get out of the Yggdrasil system.

Fate

Honestly the way the Mechanisms deal with fate in general is very interesting and arguably sometimes quite Nordic... but in particular, Bifrost Incident references fate or destiny a number of times and features a number of situations where the outcome is fixed and can’t be changed, but you have to fight anyways: “Killing me won’t save your world” “I don’t care” or how Loki and Sigyn can’t stop the train, but can only delay it. A lot of Norse tragedy revolves around people heading into battle knowing that they’re doomed and fighting anyways, or around the cycle of conflict that marked the cultural requirements for avenging insults. And the myth cycle is notable for the fact that the gods know, explicitly, exactly what Ragnarok is, what’s going to happen, and how they’re going to die, but will fight in it anyways. 

Inevitability and helplessness in the face of what you can’t possibly understand, let alone fight, which is a depiction slightly sideways of the Nordic version, are very Lovecraftian themes.

Fenrir

A wolf, child of Loki and father of Skoll and Hati, who was chained by the gods (particularly by Tyr, who placed his hand in the wolf’s mouth as “hostage” to assure him they would unchain him later, and lost the hand). He will break free at Ragnarok to join the battle against them and kill Odin.

With his association with monsters and with Loki, it’s fairly clear why he was aligned with the resistance movement. He’s serving “five life sentences” as a reference to his being chained, and the whole motif of the train’s journey being hijacked for a prison break certainly references the various characters who will be freed or break free as Ragnarok begins.

Frey

The brief reference of Frey being killed by the raging fire of the sun, with “no weapon, no defense,” is a direct translation of the god’s role in Ragnarok, when he will be killed by Surtr. Frey gave away his sword for the opportunity to woo his eventual wife, and so will be armed only with a stag’s antlers in his final combat. Also called Freyr.

Freya (“weeps tears of red-gold”)

Like her brother Frey (and yeah, these names get confusing), Freya is associated with harvest and fertility, though unlike him she also gets battle. In the song she weeps red-gold tears at the death of her husband Odr, which in myth she is said to do when her husband is absent. Also called Freyja.

Garm

Garm is another wolf, who guards Hel’s gates. He also breaks free at Ragnarok, and his howling heralds its coming. As in the album, he will fight and kill Tyr. Also called Garmr.

Hati

There’s a lot of wolves in Norse mythology. This one is a child of Fenrir. He chases the moon across the sky, and will swallow it when Ragnarok comes.

Mentioned briefly only as one of the resistance members on the train.

Heimdall

Heimdall is the watchman of the gods, with keen eyes and foresight, and guards the Bifrost as the entrance to Asgard. He will blow his horn to summon the gods to the final battle during Ragnarok, and he and Loki will kill one another. Also called Heimdallr; you’re probably noticing a pattern. It’s a grammar thing.

Mentioned as guarding the train and “doing his part.” His dying screams initiate the train’s destruction and echo throughout it, which presumably recalls the horn thing.

Hel

Another daughter of Loki, and, as the name will imply to English speakers, a guardian of the dead. She refuses to give Baldur back to the world of the living after Loki kills him. Also the name of the realm in which she resides, and to which go those who die of disease or old age. Doesn’t necessarily have the same bad-punishment connotation as modern Hell. I don’t know whether there’s any indication of what she herself is doing in Ragnarok, but many of her people and associates are certainly fighting against the gods, and I’m fairly certain the ship Naglfar, which carries Loki and his allies to Ragnarok, sets sail from Hel.

Hel as a prison colony clearly references the various characters the gods have chained or otherwise imprisoned (though, in myth, not all within Hel) as well as her alignment with “other side” during Ragnarok, and the jailbreak the resistance members are planning recalls the breaking of all these bonds as Ragnarok begins.

Hoddmimis

The woods in which Líf and Lífþrasir (see Lyfrassir) will shelter to survive Ragnarok and the various disasters accompanying it. 

So, good news! We can be marginally assured of Lyfrassir’s survival after taking shelter at the mining-colony of Hoddmimis.

Jormungandr

The world serpent, which lives in the seas and encircles the earth. Will arise during Ragnarok, causing great floods, and fight Thor; Thor will slay the serpent, but in turn the serpent’s poison will cause his death, after he staggers “nine steps back.”

Thor’s fight with Odin-turned-serpent is pretty clearly analogous to this, especially the taking nine steps to the window before destroying it with his hammer, resulting in both their deaths. I don’t think there’s any mythological basis to Odin turning into the serpent, though

Kvasir (“blood drained out”)

Kvasir was a very wise man/god and the originator of poetry. I’m leaving out a fair amount of his birth and life; the important information here is that two dwarves who were jealous of his knowledge tricked him, killed him, drained his blood, and mixed it with honey to make mead. Any who drank of the mead gained the gift of poetry / scholarship; eventually the gods stole it.

I’m not sure if there’s a reason they decided to specifically describe him as a resistance member, but there’s a clear parallel in Kvasir’s blood being drained and used to power the train, especially with the language of glyphs and sigils providing power.

Loki

Ah, Loki. Male in the general canon, though not without genderbending (he turns into a mare and gives birth to Fenrir, Hel, and Jormungandr, for instance). Inasmuch as the Norse myths we have can be organized into a “chronology,” you could do it (in my opinion) along Loki’s path from a mostly benevolent trickster god whose antics occasionally cause trouble to a genuinely malevolent figure. Associated with wit, magic, and trickery. Despite how modern lore (I suspect influenced by Marvel) often portrays Thor and Loki as brothers and children of Odin, in the myth Loki and Odin are bonded as blood-brothers. But Loki also often appears alongside Thor. As mentioned, parent of three of the main figures of Ragnarok. In the “final” myth, he jealously arranges the death of the god Baldr, who was loved by all; then he appears at a feast, where he exchanges insults with the other gods. This is the last straw; they capture him and chain him to a stone, over which they tie a serpent. Venom drips from the serpent’s fangs, causing him great agony. His wife Sigyn stays by his side, catching the venom in a bowl, but when she is forced to leave for a moment to dump it out his thrashing causes earthquakes. He will break free at the start of Ragnarok and sail to Asgard, where he and Heimdall will kill each other.

Hopefully that’s enough to give you a good background for Loki’s role in the album... it’s pretty clear why she’s framed as the opposition to the gods and the “leader” of the resistance movement, as a call to her role in Ragnarok. Her association with magic and trickery make sense for her being the “expert” in the twisted Lovecraftian “science” that produces the train. It also parallels her role in myth; her actions often get the gods into trouble, but they just as often need her wit and knowledge to get them out of it, as Odin needs her knowledge despite her taking action to destroy the train. And the setup at the end - drip, drip, drip, her face twisted in pain, her wife beside her, her “release” heralding the end of the world - precisely echoes the language of her bondage in myth; though her mind-destroying imprisonment by Odin also invokes this.

Lovecraft(ian)

A highly influential horror writer from the early 20th century. He’s largely credited with the creation of the creation of the “cosmic horror” genre, a type of horror which emphasises a vast, unknowable, uncaring universe against which we cannot hope to even begin to fight. His ideas and the gods / demons / creatures he created form the basis of the “Cthulhu mythos” or even “Lovecraft mythos,” which today is a sort of standard set of assumptions on which writers can build. Lovecraftian themes of apocalypse, inevitability, and powerlessness are highly prevalent in the album. Several of the gods in this mythos are used; in particular, Yog-Sothoth (see below). Also, a lot of the general description (madness, roiling chaos, undulating colors) draws from his distinctive vocabulary that remains staple of the genre. It’s worth noting that Lovecraft was a horrible and very racist person, but the genre today is widely used by people who are not terrible.

Lyfrassir

Líf and Lífþrasir in Norse mythology are the two humans who will survive Ragnarok and rebuild humanity; a hopeful sign for our album’s protagonist!

Midgard

In Norse mythology, the “middle” world where humans live. Earth.

Nagthrod

I don’t know this one.

@acorn-mushroom pointed out that it may be a mis-transcription of Naglfar, the name of the (ocean) ship which will carry Loki and his followers from the shores of Hel to the battlefield at Ragnarok. It’s made of dead men’s nails.

Odin

The king of the gods in Norse mythology. As the god of both wisdom and madness, Odin’s role in the album as a researcher and technological ruler whose discoveries drive her slowly mad is both very Lovecraftian and a reasonable leap. I could say a lot about the figure of Odin, but I think this character is one of the most divergent from the myth, in detail if not in role.

Odr

Óðr is Freya’s husband.

Outer gods

A Lovecraft thing referring to several of the most horrible and powerful gods, including Yog-Sothoth.

Ragnarok

The apocalypse, basically, in Norse mythology. Proceeded by various catastrophes, especially a very long winter, mentioned in the album, culminating in a great battle between the gods and their enemies, and resulting in the death of the majority of gods and other creatures of the world.

Ratatosk

A squirrel who runs up and down Yggdrasil, carrying messages between some of the tree’s other inhabitants and sowing discord. The Ratatosk Express links the worlds of the Yggdrasil System, and causes “discord” in the resistance’s opposition to it.

Sigyn

Loki’s wife. See Loki for her role in his imprisonment.

Skoll

Sköll in Norse mythology is the wolf that chases and will someday eat the sun. Association with Fenrir (another wolf) and other monsters motivates his inclusion in the list of resistance members.

Thor

A Norse god, associated with war, lightning/thunder, strength, and in general sort of... common people, as opposed to Odin’s association with kings and royalty. Prone to anger, which makes sense with his depiction as a volatile military leader in the album. He is heavily associated with his hammer mjölnir, hence jokes about “throwing a hammer in the works” and whatnot. Often associates with Loki, both as friends and as enemies as Loki progresses from a mostly-harmless trickster to actively opposing the other gods; thus how in the album he and Loki were once friends. See above for his death fighting Jormungandr.

Tyr

Another Norse god associated with war. He sacrificed a hand to bind Fenrir, and will be killed by Garmr during Ragnarok, both events referenced in the album.

Yggdrasil

The world-tree of Norse mythology, which supports the nine worlds of the cosmology. 

Yog-Sothoth

An Outer God of Lovecraftian mythos; also called the Gate and Key. It is associated as sort of the substance of time and space, binding together the cosmos. A lot of the description during the Ragnarok sequences draws directly from the “canonical” descriptions of this deity, and the invocation spoken by Lyfrassir in Red Signal draws from a story about this creature, The Case of Charles Dexter Ward.

[grimmjowkurosakidrake]

Can’t stay the same

Summary: Part five of my Time travel fic: The end is were we begin

Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke

Lenght: 2,024 Words

Quick disclaimer: This chapter was commissioned by the always great @birkastan2018​ who actually helped me with my grammar and spelling in the fic!

 @witcheswritings​ !

Feel free to DM Aquelarre if you want to commission a fic even if it’s not Naruto related

Previous

Sakura being trained by Itachi and Shisui feels wrong.

But Sasuke can’t deny that she’s getting stronger. Her stamina has increased under his cousin’s merciless training regime, and even her prior, almost inexistent tolerance to pain has developed in a way he could have only dreamed of under his (or even Kakashi’s) tutelage. 

Their sensei had always been far too soft on her; always hesitant to really push her because he was afraid that she’d get hurt.

Naruto and Sasuke always went along with the idea that they could protect their female teammate no matter what happened.

And they could, they were strong back then and Sasuke is sure they will become even stronger in the future.

But that was not the point then and it isn’t the point now.

Sakura is a shinobi, a kunoichi. If she at some point wanted to be the sort of person that needed to be saved or protected, she would’ve stayed a civilian. She wasn’t obligated in any way to continue her life as a Shinobi, Sakura didn’t have any ties to the shinobi world in the sense that she didn’t come from any clan.

She chose the life of a kunoichi.

It took years for him and Naruto to understand this, and allow her to bloom in her own right.

Kakashi is another story entirely. Sasuke could never understand the man, even as an adult the roots of his teacher’s trauma were always a mystery to him.

Maybe he just didn’t know how to train a girl. Or he probably didn’t even know how to train anyone if the rumours of him never taking on a team were true.

Maybe he simply wasn’t interested in training a young civilian girl with no foundation other than the academy’s sloppy teaching methods. Especially when he had the only survivor of the Uchiha massacre and the Kyuubi’s vessel to deal with.

Maybe she reminded him too much of Rin, his first teammate. A girl that was said to be bright and sunny; always happy and ready to help her team in whatever way she could.

A girl eternally in love with her cold teammate Kakashi, even though their loving and kind third teammate would have given her the sun and the stars if she so desired.

Whatever the reasons behind Kakashi’s negligence of Sakura, the truth was she could have never truly bloomed as a kunoichi under the care of their team.

It wasn’t until he left the village, Naruto followed Jiraiya to advance his own training, and Kakashi completely disappeared from her life until Naruto’s return, that she finally set out on her own path as a ninja.

Now she trains her stamina and speed with Shisui every other morning. She wakes up at dawn on the days she meets with his cousin to challenge her body to the brink. Shisui has her running endless laps and sparring with him, and even though she has no hope of pinning him in her current state - Sakura keeps going. Sasuke even found her carrying Naruto on her back as a way to build up her strength.

Or so, Shisui said with a smirk dancing on his mouth.

In addition to her training with Shisui, Sakura joins her team on small missions and sometimes works one-on-one with Kakashi, who has started to take a more serious approach to her development.

Maybe he is being possessive of his “cute little genin” as he likes to call them, or maybe he’s finally realized that he can’t just ignore one of his students.

Sasuke doesn’t really care about his reasons. The important thing is that his team is acquiring the tools they need to defend themselves, to survive, and to hopefully beat the odds they will face in the future.

Someday, he will take more time to consider Kakashi, the man who passed down his most powerful jutsu to him... just as his own father taught him their clan’s signature giant fireball.

But for now, with his brother safe and actually happy beside him everyday, Naruto and Sakura are his only worry. They are his most precious people; warm sources of light in his otherwise dark life.

Sakura also trains with Itachi when he has the time, but she doesn’t seem very keen on sharing what they work on.

“We’re trying to find her strengths,” shares his brother one night after Sakura leaves their house, refusing both his and Itachi’s offers to scort her home. “Something to make her stand out, like Naruto-kun’s Multiple Shadow Clone Technique or even our own Sharingan.”

Like her enhanced strength or her excellent chakra control.

“And have you found anything?” Asks the black haired boy, eager for results, “Her chakra control is excellent and I think she has an affinity for water.” he supplies, trying to sound nonchalant, but if his brother’s smirk is anything to go by, he’s not doing a great job of it.

Itachi shakes his head with a grimace. “Even thought her chakra control is better than average, her actual reserves are not nearly enough for her to sustain any form of actually damaging attack.”

Admittedly, Itachi was never really a teacher to begin with. He was a prodigy to his very core, and the only actual experience he ever had at teaching was with Sasuke (another prodigy) and Naruto, the host of the nine tailed beast.

“But there has to be something!” Sasuke recalls his wife’s monstrous strength, her unparalleled medical jutsu, her strength of a hundred seal... Sakura has so much potential.

“We are working on genjutsu at the moment,” concedes Itachi, black eyes looking at the koi pond their mother used to take care of before her banishment with the rest of the Uchiha traitors. Now, only Sasuke has time to spare for such things. “Not enough for her to be at an Uchiha’s, or even a Yuhi’s level. Just sufficient for her to break through one, or create a distraction for up to a minute tops.”

“That’s…” Mumbles Sasuke.

That’s not enough.

She’s stronger than she was at this point back in his original timeline, and she’ll probably be able to defend herself against the sound ninja better than she did last time. But her confidence is just as low as it was weeks ago. She still thinks she’s weak, and she still hesitates before every punch she throws at training.

She needs Tsunade, Sasuke finally realises.

There’s no way Itachi or Shisui can offer her the confidence or the tools that the slug princess passed onto Sakura as if she was her entire legacy.

Of course, for Sakura’s sake, Sasuke will make sure that the woman comes back.

But at the moment, there’s nothing he can do to force the sannin’s return to the village. 

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

Today, Sasuke wakes up later than usual. He has a mission at noon, sharp. But he knows that Kakashi will take a four hours long detour to visit his dead teammates, so he’s not worried about it.

He arrives at their meeting point, a quarter after one in the afternoon where a restless Sakura and smug Naruto are waiting for him.

Sakura is leaning against a tree, looking at him with clear disappointment. But she’s not bold enough to voice her thoughts.

Naruto on the other hand, would never miss an opportunity to scold Sasuke “Sasuke!” He screams running from his place at Sakura’s feet to stop right in front Sasuke’s face. “You’re late!” Accuses the blond pointing a finger at him.

Of course, Sasuke is unfazed. “Is Kakashi here?” He asks in his usual bored tone, his dark eyes boring into Sakura.

She blushes at his stare and breaks eye contact before answering. “No,” she sighs, letting her body fall to a sitting position on the grass. She tucks her knees under her chin and hugs her shins with her delicate arms.

Watching the boys growl and snap at each other like a pair of two misbehaving little puppies, she probably wishes her teacher will arrive anytime soon.

When Kakashi finally arrives is not particularly relevant, they end up doing some chores for people around the village. Memorably, Sakura manages to lift an entire barrel of beer for the owner of a bar down the street from Naruto’s apartment.

And when all of their work is done, she carries Naruto on her back as he complains about their day, even though he was the one who asked Kakashi for harder missions.

Sasuke can’t say that he would like to be carried by a girl like this but he doesn’t like seeing Naruto taking advantage of Sakura’s kindness.

“This is because you pushed yourself too much,” complains Sakura as Naruto groans once again from the pain.

“You can’t even take care of yourself?” Snipes Sasuke, grumbling from behind the pair as Kakashi ruffles his hair affectionately.

Immediately, Naruto hops from Sakura’s back and tries to fight off Sasuke. The girl, of course, doesn’t allow it and hold the blond by his right arm.

“Do you have to do this every single time?” She struggles to pull Naruto back. “You’re supposed to be friends,” she snaps, clearly annoyed.

It’s true, Sasuke thinks. They are friends, and nothing can break their bond. But Naruto is still a child, and Sasuke is supposed to be one as well.

“Your teamwork seems to be suffering lately,” quips Kakashi.

“It’s Sasuke’s fault,” accuses Naruto, “always showing off and acting like he’s better than us,” he complains.

Sasuke smirks. “Become stronger than me, then,” he challenges the blond, “if you want to stop me from making you look bad.”

This time around, is Naruto’s turn to smile at him, clearly pleased with his words.

Kakashi sighs, finally looking up at them from his book. “Ok, that’s it for today,” he declares. “I have to fill out our reports, anyway.”

No one complains as their teacher leaves them. They’re already used to Kakashi disappearing on them to fill out reports or attend meetings with the Hokage or other Jounin.

“We should train some more,” offers Sasuke, already walking in the direction of their usual training grounds.

Naruto and Sakura are obviously unexcited about this. They’re already tired from their morning training and the missions they completed that afternoon. But neither of them have the heart to deny Sasuke.  They know he’s right.

“Yeah,” sighs Sakura hesitantly trailing after the black haired boy “more training will do us some good.”

Naruto, never one to deny an opportunity to train, follows them promptly. “Of course!” He smiles, “Sakura-chan and I should fight Sasuke!” Exclaims the blond planting his right hand of her shoulder in a friendly manner. “I’m sure we can take him.”

Sakura, for the first time in a long time, ever since he left his wife back in his timeline, smiles confidently. “That could be fun,” she smirks. “I’m sure Sasuke-kun is up for the challenge.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Sasuke smirks, stops in the middle of the street and looks squarely at his teammates. “Loser pays for lunch.”

Sakura and Naruto grin at each other, ready to fight him as soon as they reach their designated training area.

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

Sadly, just like last time, they are distracted by the Hokage’s grandson and his little friends as the children try to rope them into one of their games.

Ninja playing ninja sounds ludicrous, but Sasuke knows this is exactly what they’re doing. Just a group of kids pretending to be adults.

As he senses the sand sibling’s chakra getting closer, with each signature more menacing and powerful than the one before - he realizes that they were never ready for this encounter. Up until this point, they were never anything more than children playing ninja.

They thought they’d already experienced the worst the shinobi world had to offer, but...

They couldn’t have been more wrong. They didn’t know it then, but even people like Gaara were nothing compared to the dangers that awaited them in the future.

As these Suna chakra signatures become stronger, Sasuke makes sure to stand protectively in front of his teammates when they finally come face to face with Temari and Kankuro.

Gaara’s bloodthirsty presence hides above them. I hope you like this chapter and I specially hope @birkastan2018 likes it!!!

[gay-jesus-probably]

What's up fam does anyone want to hear my new theories on Paranatural JUST KIDDING YOU'RE GETTING THEM ANYWAYS

Okay so first things first: of all the medium's we've met so far, I think that Isaac and Johnny are the only normal ones. And also maybe Walker? Cause during the flashback at the start of Chapter 7 he uses his mute powers with his bare hands, and doesn't seem to use a tool to fight. It'd explain why his flashback aesthetic is so aggressively 70's even though the flashback is set in the early 00's and his usual style is 'cowboy' - makes sense if his flashback look is a symptom of possession.

...That's not the point. Flashback Walker being a medium is completely unrelated to this.

Anyways.

When Possessed Max was threatening Doorman in ch 3, the Doorman immediately identified it as 'a broken god'. Given that the spirit mentions it "didn't end up with the sense of humor", the broken part is probably very literal. Then later on while talking with Nin, Doorman says that Max is "unaware that he carries one of the s-". While the last word is cut off, my guess is it's the start of a number, and refers to how many pieces the Broken God is in.

So that leaves us with three major questions: 1. What is the Broken God and why is it broken? 2. Where are the fragments? 3. What do they want?

Under the read more, because this is 3k words and I’m not an animal.

What is the Broken God, and why is it broken?

While it was whole, the Broken God was a terrifyingly powerful entity with apocalyptic levels of power. It might have been a spirit all along, or it could have started as something else entirely. If that's the case, then the act of breaking might have 'killed' it, turning the fragments into spirits. Whether it was originally a spirit or not, it couldn't be destroyed completely, but being shattered left the fragments weakened and gave the rest of the world a chance against it. It's possible that it hadn't done anything to warrant being attacked, and it was just shattered out of fear of what something that powerful might do, but I think it's more likely it was a very active threat that needed to be brought down.

So who broke it?

Ron Swanson; it burned his hand so he punched it

Bad jokes aside, I think something that powerful would push the Godzilla threshold enough to make a lot of groups put aside their differences to bring it down. Judging by what we've heard about them so far, I assume that early versions of the Cousinhood of Man and Paranatural Activity Consortium were involved. The two organizations might have actually been founded in response to the crisis, or were originally a single group that had a schism after. I don't think it was just them, but I do think the Cousinhood and Consortium were major players in the whole mess.

Which brings us to...

Where are the fragments?

I can't say for sure how many pieces it's in, but judging by the Doorman's comment, my guess is it's a number that starts with S. That's a lot of options, but I'm guessing six or seven, because any higher numbers that start with an S would just be ridiculous - six or seven is manageable, but double digits or higher is way too much to keep track of, the story would never be able to give all of them the focus they deserve.

So we've got six or seven fragments of a broken god. Where are they?

Fragment One: Possessing Max, which is the only thing currently confirmed by canon. This is a very recent development, as Max isn't showing any physical symptoms, was able to cross the barrier to enter Mayview, and his spectral abilities didn't kick in until his first day of school. Given that Johnny starts seeing shades roughly twelve hours after his possession, that implies that Max was possessed the day he moved into Mayview.

I think Max's fragment was stuck outside of Mayview, and looking to get in. It came across the Puckett's heading towards Mayview, and hitched a ride by possessing Max. This is backed up by the fact that Max began to awaken as a spectral before having noticeably interacted with anything supernatural - on his first night, Max could hear Hissin' Pete, saw PJ as a shade, and PJ was able to physically interact with him. If we compare that to the timeline of Johnny being possessed around midnight and seeing his first shade by lunchtime the next day, Max would have been possessed at some point in the late morning of the day he moved to Mayview.

Max's fragment is not Scrapdragon. I think that Max is a little like Mr. Spender, in that he's a medium whose also wielding a tool. Max's fragment is very chatty, revealing itself to the Doorman with no prompting, speaking in long, eloquent sentences, and even talks at Isaac about the concept of school buses and his own morality. On the other hand, Scrapdragon's communicated only in angry screeching so far. Also, Scrapdragon is obviously the source of Max's magnet powers, and he can only channel them through the baseball bat that Scrapdragon's possessing. I don't think Scrapdragon likes the fragment either - despite being a grudge, it seems fairly neutral towards Max, and only gets angry when he accidentally hits it. I don't know if Scrapdragon is trying to oppose the fragment the same way Lucifer fights the Shadow, but I don't think Scrapdragon wants to hurt Max, and it might end up helping him.

Fragment Two: Alright so now we're getting into speculative territory. I'm not numbering these by order of introduction btw, from here on out I'm looking at this via connections.

Boss Leader is possessed by a wight that the Consortium's been studying for a very long time, and is fairly non-hostile. Although it can't communicate clearly, it can express its emotions to BL, and she seems to have a lot of trust in it. Despite Boss Leader's shenanigans, it's been repeatedly shown that she takes the safety of spectral kids very seriously - if she thought there was any chance her wight would be dangerous, she never would have introduced it to two teenagers and a toddler, especially not just to explain the concept of a wight. This is also backed up by the wight's actions during that conversation - it's clearly paying attention, but it doesn't show any hostility, and the only thing it says is "PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED". Hell, it even seems to be a little disappointed that nobody reacts to the wight/white pun.

Despite this, I believe that Sandman is a fragment of the broken god. Not so much because of how it acts, but because of its connection to other possible pieces.

Fragment Three: Dr. Gwen Burger and her husband got stuck inside the prison of an unknown Wight. It was imprisoned by the Consortium before the current Boss Leader took power, it's lonely, dangerous, and really wants out. If it escapes, the results probably won't be pretty, time works differently in its prison, and its dream is connected to Gwen's. I think that Gwen might be its medium, given how warped her appearance is in the dream world, and that the wights prison relies on it being bound to a medium.

Gwen's wight is seemingly hostile, given that it attacks the group at the first opportunity, but what it wants is hard to say - its only line so far is "LOOK AT ME", and it may have been responsible for the demise of Gwen's husband. It also looks very similar to Sandman, implying a connection between them. Given that it's already been established that a Broken God is out there, it only makes sense for Sandman and Gwen's wight to be more fragments.

And more importantly, they're both very clearly connected to another powerful spirit.

Fragment Four: The Shadow, which has been possessing Richard Spender for at least thirteen years now. It's obviously powerful, given how much it scares Spender and Lucifer, and how being its medium has affected Spender's reputation. Given how he reacts to Forge saying he 'defeated the strongest spirit', that likely refers to Mr. Spender's past experience with the Shadow, and the circumstances that led to his possession.

Apart from its power, the main reason I think the Shadow is a fragment of the Broken God is because of its connections to Sandman and Gwen's wight. With Sandman, they look incredibly similar - the Shadow's face resembles a sun and is noticeably missing an eye, while Sandman's face resembles a crescent moon, and its only clear feature is a single eye. This suggests that Sandman and the Shadow are directly related to each other. As for Gwen's wight, it's connection to the Shadow is made clear by Rick's reaction to being attacked by it - while everyone else reacts, Rick freezes up and starts shaking in terror, either recognizing it as being similar to the Shadow, or having a flashback to his obviously traumatic possession. Probably both.

There's also the reactions of Sandman and Gwen's wight. When the group is attacked by Gwen's wight, the framing of the scene heavily implies that it's reaching out to grab Spender - Boss Leader and Walker are moving to defend the others, Gwen's almost completely hidden behind Walker, Mina's reflexively shielding Rick and Ed, Ed's hidden behind Walker and Mina... and Rick is perfectly centered at the back of the group. Furthermore, the way the wight attack contrasts to Rick's flashback heavily implies that it's reaching for him specifically. Meanwhile when the kids are introduced to Sandman, while it's kinda hard to track its line of sight, it seems like it might be staring at Rick the whole time. What the two wights say could also be interpreted as them speaking directly to Rick - Gwen's wight wants him to look at it, while Sandman begs him not be scared. If the two wights are fragments of the Broken God, they might be able to recognize that Rick is the medium of another one, and react accordingly. Gwen's wight wants him look at it, possibly realizing that he's frozen in terror and wanting to keep him that way so that he's an easy target. Sandman also realizes that Rick is traumatized and keeps its distance, asking Rick not to be afraid, as it doesn't want to hurt him. The point is, the Shadow, Sandman, and Gwen's wight are obviously connected to each other, and the most likely reason is all three are fragments of the Broken God.

I believe the Shadow was imprisoned at the bottom of Mayview Lake, though not by the Consortium. Thirteen years before Max came to Mayview, its prison was somehow broken by group that wanted to free the Broken God, though they were widely disorganized. Somehow a young Rick Spender wound up in the lake as the Shadow got free, and it pulled him under before possessing him. Given that Spender dying would free the Shadow, it's possible that the Shadow needed to possess a medium to escape its prison, and was trying to drown Rick right away to free itself. Lucifer intervened, pulling Rick out of the lake, and the two of them have been imprisoning the Shadow in Mr. Spender ever since.

Fragment Five: The Angel of Mayview.

Yeah, I know, she's definitely an enemy of Max's fragment and seemingly means well, but hear me out. When she speaks with Nin and Doorman, she pretty much immediately says she doesn't deserve to be called master. She also seems invested in Forge getting a second chance, not just to advance her goals, but also just for his own sake. These two details give me the impression that she's done some seriously bad things in the past, and is actively trying to make amends for it. Being part of the seemingly evil Broken God would qualify.

My other evidence is what Max's fragment says in Chapter 3. It specifically says that it "didn't end up with the sense of humor", implying that it's unable to find things funny. And right after that, the fragment and Doorman have this exchange: Doorman: Your return changes nothing, schemer. My master does not fear broken gods. Fragment: She should. Would if she could. The comedy your ignorance breeds is wasted on my ears.

This suggests that the Angel isn't scared because she can't be scared. Like she didn't get the ability to fear things, because another fragment has it. Max's fragment also suggests that it knows more about the Angel than Doorman does, and that considering her an enemy of the Broken God is ridiculous. All of this heavily implies that the Angel herself is another fragment.

Fragments Six and Seven: At this point I'm mostly out of obvious suspects. There's really only two major players unaccounted for, and while I do think both are fragments, I think they might both be fragments I've already discussed.

The great power that sleeps in Mayview is heavily implied to be a Big Deal. That being said, I think we've seen it already - who do we know that's a suspected medium for a fragment of the Broken God, and is permanently asleep? Yeah, I think the sleeping power is referring to Boss Leader. Her physical body is comatose, making her completely defenseless in the real world, and if Sandman is a fragment, Boss Leader is obviously very powerful. If Boss Leader's real body is in Mayview, then she's definitely the sleeping power.

Alternatively, it might be referring to the Shadow being imprisoned in Mayview Lake. Forge hasn't been in Mayview in a long time, so it makes sense that he wouldn't know the great power he's seeking was released over a decade ago. His attempt to command the pixelhounds also makes it clear that he's not above using evil methods to try and do what he thinks is right, so it'd make sense that he'd be willing to try and take control of it to help the Angel. It'd also explain why Mr. Spender starts laughing when he hears that, despite the fact that he's literally being tortured - Forge doesn't realize that the power he's looking for is right there. Mr. Spender also calls Forge misinformed right after that, suggesting that he knows what the sleeping power really is. Could be that he knows it's Boss Leader, but it could also mean he knows it's him. Either way, Forge is looking in the wrong place, and Mr. Spender knows it.

As for the other unexplained mystery, we have Penny Spender and her white spectral energy. That's a trait unique to wights and their mediums, which suggests that Penny is the medium of a wight. And given that all wights seen so far are probably fragments of the Broken God, it's likely that her wight is as well... but I think her wight is the Angel. We know fragments can speak through their mediums if they want, and the Angel hasn't made any personal appearances yet, only speaking over the phone. And the reactions of Nin and Doorman imply that's normal for her. Penny's obviously hiding that she's a spectral, so the Angel might be hiding that she has a medium to protect them both. As for why the Angel is possessing Penny, well Richard and Penny are obviously siblings, and Rick first got possessed when he was thirteen. If Penny doesn't know there's something horribly wrong with her brother, I'd be very surprised. I imagine we'll find out more about her, but whether or not Penny's possessed by the Angel, I think she's somewhat aware of her brothers situation and is trying to save him. Whatever her situation is, I'm looking forward to seeing more of Penny Spender, and I really hope she appears at some point in Chapter 7.

So now that we've got a rough idea of where the fragments are and why, that brings us to our final question.

What do they want?

I don't think they all have the same goals. Max's fragment saying it didn't end up with the sense of humor is an extremely informative sentence if you think about it - it means that the different fragments got different aspects of the Broken God's personality, and therefor will want different things.

The Angel and Sandman both seem to be non-hostile (for now at least), and the Angel is actively opposing other fragments. She also seems to be trying to make amends for the Broken God's actions, and feels deep shame over her past, leading me to believe that the Angel has the Broken God's remorse. The other pieces don't feel bad about what they've done because they can't. Likewise, I think Sandman might have inherited its fear, as it almost looks like it's trying to hide itself under blankets, and putting its medium's in a coma allows it to hide from the waking world.

Given their actions, I think the Angel and Sandman are against the Broken God's original goals, and are fairly benevolent. They do not want to become whole again.

Meanwhile, the Shadow, Gwen's wight, and Max's fragment all seem to be hostile. I believe Gwen's wight definitely wants to rejoin with other fragments, given that it seemingly tries to grab Rick. Max's fragment is harder to judge; it's definitely opposed to the Angel, but the Doorman's words imply that it's not really a powerhouse like the others. Max's fragment is the manipulator, the schemer - not the fighter. If it's the weakest of the bunch, it makes sense that it would want to become whole again. As for the Shadow, given that it's first move upon getting free is to attack Max and Isabel, it's definitely an active problem. The fact that it's indirectly described as 'the strongest spirit' implies that it got the most raw power out of all the fragments. I don't have any evidence that it wants to become whole again, but something about it gives me the feeling that it does. Here's hoping Mr. Spender realizes Max is possessed before either of their fragments makes a move. And no, I don’t think the Shadow realizes Max has another fragment yet; he’s still in the early stage of possession, so I think the only way for Max’s fragment to get caught is if it exposes itself. But Max’s fragment definitely knows where the Shadow is after chapter 4, so that’s bound to turn into a nightmare at some point.

Also on a probably unrelated note, the Shadow is a spirit of darkness that chooses to look like a sun, and if you look closely at Rick's memory getting possessed, you can see the Shadow had a massive slasher smile as it reached up to grab him. So uh... I think I know which fragment got the sense of humor.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, I look forward to being proved wrong about all of this. But I also kinda really hope I’m right. Either way, if anyone writes fanfic using my theories, I will love you forever.

[probably-writing-x]

Behind you.

Guzmán x Reader

Request by anon: Hey! Could you write a guzman x reader where the reader is being stalked by some creepy guy and guzman is their bf and tries to help out? Ty❤️ love all ur fics

Gif is not my own

Requests are closed🤍

Being the daughter of a well-known actress was certainly an experience that had its ups and downs. You were blessed with a life that never managed to be boring, and you could hardly complain about everything you’d been given as a result of your mother’s success. Though, it had its negatives too. You’d mainly been brought up by nannies and staff at the house who’d always been around when your Mum was off filming or doing press. But it worked, you’d made it through school up to your last few years and you were just turning eighteen when it first all started taking a turn. You’d had to retake the school year as things got rapidly complicated towards the end of last year. It didn’t matter. You still had Ander and now Omar at school with you. And Samuel and Rebeca. And, most importantly - your boyfriend Guzmán. Turning eighteen meant one key thing for you - you were an adult now and that meant you’d likely be in the public eye even more than you were originally. Especially with the new news that you were having to retake a school year.

“Guzmán!” You laugh as he races after you into the house.

He’s dripping wet from being in the pool and it splashes onto the tiles beneath him as he chases you with arms reaching out.

“Guzmán stop!” You squeal, unable to hold him off any longer as his arms wrap around you and he pulls you into his damp chest, “I’m not going in the water!”

He clearly has other plans as he carries you through the glass doors again and jumps into the pool with you in his arms this time. You’d been enjoying an afternoon together in the beaming September sun as you’d been sunbathing on the loungers beside the pool and he’d been enjoying the cold of the water much more.

“You’re an asshole,” You splash him with the water, treading on the surface to keep afloat.

“Come on, it’s not that cold once you’re used to it,” He pushes himself through the water so he’s close to you.

“I was quite peacefully enjoying my sunbathing actually, you’re just needy,” You scoff, kicking back so you were floating on the surface like a starfish.

“Is that so?” Guzmán queries, hands reaching out for you again as he starts tickling your sides and under your arms.

“Guzmán!” You half-screech, flailing in the water involuntarily as you jolt away from his touch.

“Who’s been traipsing wet footprints onto my newly cleaned floor?!” It’s Fernando who exclaims the words that make Guzmán stop in his actions instantly.

Fernando had basically brought you up since you were little, he maintained the house and did everything your Mum would normally do if she was around more. He was completely family to you, which made him very protective when Guzmán arrived on the scene.

“Sorry Fernando,” Guzmán admits, swimming over to the edge of the pool as both of you push yourselves out of the water.

Fernando hands over a towel to each of you and picks up your empty jug of water, “You’ll be cleaning it next time.”

“Noted,” Guzmán smiles. Really, Fernando couldn’t not like him. He was here more often than not nowadays and had practically spent every day of summer with you. Despite your differing financial statuses, Guzmán didn’t really care about how much money you or your Mum had. He spoilt you more than you would ever expect from a boyfriend and Fernando knew you needed someone like that by your side as you grew up so separate from normality.

Guzmán dries himself off with the towel and shakes it through his hair to try to lessen the effect of his soaked locks. It’s then that you hear it first. You flinch at the sound of rustling behind you and what distinctly sounded like the shutting of a camera.

“You okay, babe?” Guzmán frowns when he sees the disturbed expression casting over your features.

You keep your eyes trailed on where the source of sound was coming from, “Yeah, sorry, just thought I heard something.”

“Oh, okay,” He shrugs, “I’m going to take a quick shower and get changed. Do you want to order us some dinner?”

“Yeah, I will do,” You try to flick yourself back to reality and get yourself away from the worry you’d created in your own mind.

“Okay,” Guzmán smiles, leaning in to give you a soft kiss before heading inside.

And you’re sure you heard that shutter again.

In fact, you’d been having those moments more and more recently. You’d been receiving texts from anonymous numbers, photos sent to your number of you in places where you’d never expected anyone to be taking photos of you. Some of you walking into school, even one of you leaving Ander and Omar’s place. Plenty of you with Guzman. None of them had ever been in your own home though, luckily this place had security and fences enough that you felt safely blocked off from that sort of thing. Until today.

- - - - - -

“All I’m saying is, there’s no way you’d go back to me after that if I did what Ross did!” Guzmán sighs at the TV as you finish another episode of friends.

He got very passionate about the idea of Rachel deserving better - claiming that, if it was him and you, he wouldn’t feel worthy if he’d done everything that Ross did.

“Right honey?” He glances up from where he lay with his head in your lap.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, you can put the next one on,” You dismiss, eyes constantly glancing back outside every few seconds like you’d catch something you were waiting for.

“What’s distracting you?” He frowns, pushing himself up to sit beside you, “Was it something I said?”

“No, no, I’m fine don’t worry.”

“You know I’m only joking when I talk about me doing what Ross did, Id never actually cheat on you, or make a list or...”

“No, Guzmán, no,” You half laugh, “It’s honestly not you, but you’re such an angel for worrying about that.”

He smiles bashfully as he lays back down in your lap to watch the next episode. You hated the thought of him getting caught up in the publicity of your Mums name, him becoming the high school boyfriend that they’d simply wait for you to split up with. There had already been rumours flying about as soon as people had first seen you together. Headlines that gave people to lowdown on who exactly (Y/n) was dating. He’d never cared enough for it to have any effect. He’d just dismissed it and carried on as though you were living in complete normality.

“Although I would bring all the presents to your office if you got a fancy new job,” He laughs to himself, snuggling into your legs as you run a hand through his growing hair.

You encouraged yourself to completely focus on him instead of getting yourself wrapped up in what could or could not be. Guzmán had a surprisingly good ability to distract you from near enough anything, without trying one bit.

“Right guys, I’m heading up to bed. I’ve made sure all of the doors are locked even though Guzmán checks anyway. And I’ve turned everything off so you can just head to bed whenever you want to,” Fernando explains, “Good night.”

“Night Fernando!” Guzmán calls, not shifting his head away from your legs.

It was true. He had an unmoving habit of checking the doors before you went to bed, knowing he never slept well if he hadn’t at least put his mind at ease. It was one of those quirks you’d always adored.

“Do you want to go up soon?” Guzman asks through a stifled yawn.

“No, that’s alright, a couple more episodes at least.”

It’s not that you weren’t tired. You easily were practically drained. But the thought of going to sleep didn’t seem like anything happening soon. All you could think of was who or what could be lurking to take a photo or catch another story now there were no restrictions.

- - - - - -

It takes an hour of putting off the idea before you finally decide to give in and head up to bed with Guzmán.

“I think I’m more like Chandler,” He says through the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, “And you’re more like Monica.”

“Are you still talking about friends characters?” You roll your eyes as you take off your robe and pull on his T-shirt from the day instead to sleep in.

“I’m just sayinggggg... we’re nothing like Ross and Rachel,” He shrugs as he finishes brushing his teeth and instead waits for you.

“Okay babe,” You chuckle, walking into the bathroom.

As you do, your phone goes off from the bedroom.

“Can you get that? Its probably just Instagram or something,” You ask him as you wash your face.

“Or your secret boyfriend,” He wiggles his brows as he goes to grab your phone.

It’s like his heart drops at the sight. An anonymous number. And a photo of you from earlier, wearing only your bikini after the two of you had gotten out of the pool.

“(Y/n), what is this?” He speaks slowly like the extra time will give him chance to process it, as he begins to scroll up to see the previous photos you’d been sent by the same number.

You’re speechless as you stand in the doorway and watch it unfold.

“How long has this been going on for?” He asks calmly, “Is this the only number that’s been sending them?”

“Guzmán, I was going to tell you...”

“Okay, so I need you to tell me now - do you know who this is?”

You move over to the bed and sit down beside him, “No.”

“How long have they been sending you these?”

“Maybe a couple of months, since graduation - after I turned eighteen,” You explain, “I promise you I was going to tell you and I-“

“No, no, I understand that,” He puts his hand over yours, “I just need to understand what’s going on because this isn’t okay (Y/n). There are photos of you at school here, photos of us two, photos of you in a fucking bikini in your own garden.”

“I don’t know who it is and I don’t know how to stop it. That’s what I thought I heard earlier,” You explain shakily.

“That’s why you didn’t want to come to bed. You were scared to go to sleep in your own home,” The words hit him with such a realisation that it’s like they’ve sliced straight through his heart.

“Mums always said about me having a bodyguard whenever I go anywhere,” You shake your head.

“But you always wanted to be a normal kid, I know,” Guzmán offers you a small smile, “You’ll be okay, you know? I’m here, and you’ve got Fernando, and we’ll hire somebody who can investigate this and figure out who the fuck thinks it’s acceptable to take photos of my girlfriend like this.”

You let out an involuntary laugh at his sudden outburst of irritation, “Thank you Guzmán.”

“Come on, babe, let’s try to get some sleep and we’ll go through everything in the morning,” He encourages, “Yeah?”

You finish getting ready and join him in the bed where you lay down beside him. He’s staring up at the ceiling and you are too. There’s a silence like you’re waiting for the next time that shutter clicks. A half an hour must pass before he speaks up.

“Can you sleep?” He whispers like there’s anybody else close enough to disturb.

You shift in the bed and prop yourself up against the headboard to sit up, “No.”

He smiles against the dark and sits up to join you as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you to him, “You’ll be okay, we’ll get this sorted. Whatever it takes, okay?”

It was the same thing he’d told you when you’d first warned him of the publicity that followed your life. He’d convinced you that it didn’t matter and he’d explicitly told you that he’d do whatever it took to make things easier for you whenever things got difficult. He’d stuck by it ever since and you trusted him to do the same now.

- - - - - -

When you wake up the next morning, you’re alone in the bed. Guzmán’s left a note on your bedside table - “Morning, you were still snoring in your sleep so hopefully you slept okay ;) x I woke up early so didn’t want to disturb you - don’t worry xx’

You tuck the note into your drawer with all of the other notes he’d given you over the years and walk downstairs to try to find him in the near empty mansion.

It pains you instantly when you see him sat outside. He’s fully dressed, too dressed for the early hour, and he’s sat on one of the loungers and you watch as he runs his hands over his face. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

You come up behind him and instinctively reach out to rub his shoulders to which he leans into your touch so easily, “Why are you up so early?”

“I got in touch with our old PI from back in the day, I’ve given him any information we have and I’ve given him all of your contact details so he can keep you up to date with anything you find. And I’ve told my Mum that I’ll be staying here for the foreseeable,” Guzmán explains, “I don’t like the thought of anybody like that being near you and until we get to the bottom of it, you and Fernando aren’t getting rid of me.”

You laugh a little and squeeze his shoulders, “I don’t deserve you, Guzmán,”

He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss to your hand, “You should’ve told me sooner, but we’ll do whatever we can to stop this before it gets worse.”

You lean in to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “Thank you.”

[evergreen-dryad]

like clouds passing by

7 - childhood friends AU - MDZS, Wangxian, early 2000s

—the one where WWX and LWJ are neighbours on the same street, and before WWX moves away he gives LWJ the rabbits they bonded over.

from this list of prompts here for August.

.

If he were to tell his story, he might have told it thus:

Once, there was a little boy who often played by himself. He lived on a street with two other houses: one red, one purple, his own blue.

When he was younger, Wang Ji had not thought much of people, or of animals. What mattered most were rules, and the fulfilling of them. When things turned out exactly like clockwork, and all words were accounted for.

Days were spent doing schoolwork, practicing calligraphy, and running through scales on the piano after his elder brother had had his turn, with their uncle providing guidance.

It was a peaceful, sleepy existence, and the trees whispered unceasingly at the doors and windows. But things never do stay the same, do they? The blue boy and the boy from the brick-red house met.

This was how it happened.

He had been absorbed in reading, as he had been prone to do as a child. Lan Wang Ji would faithfully parse through each schoolbook, carefully memorising every piece of information, so that it may be laid out for recitation. Teachers had loved him, for he had not been given to noise.

He can't remember what exactly he had been reading anymore, but he remembers he had reached the part about Yu The Great, of how he had redirected the river—

When a terrific shriek had rent the air.

Lan Wang Ji stilled. He remained seated where he was. Slowly, he craned his head outwards, leaning out of the inner shade of the porch.

The wails soon got louder as the source shot into the garden. Wang Ji promptly retracted his head, alarmed at the sight of — another child, howling his head off, hurling curses at whatever was behind him, and then honing in on him.

Wang Ji flinched. Fists tightening, he quickly scooped his book into his lap before the loud footsteps could stomp over it. The strange child, cowering behind him, was now whimpering and murmuring words— Wang Ji realised then he was screaming the same words (don't come here, get away!) – so rapidly, they almost sounded like a mantra.

“Coward!” Another voice echoed over the wall. It whistled, and the puppies that were about to trespass into his garden as well retreated, tails wagging as they bounded back to their owner.

The noisy one behind him moaned some more. He was starting to sound grumpy. “Who wants to play with you anyway!”

A disdainful “Hmph!” sounded before cooing to the puppies: “Love, Jasmine, Princess, let’s go!”

Gagging sounds. “Why did he have to name them like that… they don’t fit their names at all!” Exhaling, the intruder peeked out from behind him. Grey eyes, he realised with surprise. Their lashes were still wet from tears. This person had been genuinely frightened after all. Those eyes locked onto him then.

Silver and gold interlocked at that point.

Wang Ji did not look away. Surprisingly, he found himself holding his breath. Even more surprisingly, the boy in front of him broke into a huge grin.

“Thanks, friend! Those dogs sure were scary, weren’t they!” Once he began, it was as if a dam broke and the chattering flooded out.

Wang Ji, bewildered, and rather annoyed he had been kept from reading, decided this visitor needed showing out. Unbothered, the strange boy got up to follow him.

"Those dogs, ugh! Bark whenever they see anyone! Who says they're just being friendly, they sound so angry, clearly they're about to bite." He shuddered theatrically.

Wang Ji chose to walk faster.

"They chase every living thing under the earth, for no reason why! Just too cruel, nearly scared me and my rabbits to death-! Oh."

The boy actually pouted at him.

"You want me to go already?" Wang Ji was about to tell him to have a good day when the boy leaned in conspiratorially, as if to confide a secret.

"Want to see my rabbits?"

Wang Ji opened his mouth to refuse. He closed it again.

"Rabbits?" He finally spoke to the strange, smiling boy. At his question the boy actually lit up.

"Mn, rabbits! I've two, one white one black. They're really cute~" He said in a singsong manner, arms propped behind his mop of hair.

At this point in time, Wang Ji had still not seen a rabbit in real life, let alone met one. He had only read of them in the fairy-tale books in the library, and occasionally on the television. So he was understandably piqued.

Yet he still hesitated. He wasn't sure if it was okay to just step into another person's residence without prior permission. The boy seemed to pick up on his uneasiness, so he said:

"Wait a mo!"

And off he ran. He shrieked a little as the puppies from next door barked and lunged at him, but fortunately they were leashed this time. Wang Ji watched his back disappear into the house next to the Jiangs’.

He stood there momentarily, before returning to his book left on the porch. This time, he sat on the outer edge.

The sun has gone behind the clouds, he told himself. Late afternoon sunlight spilled over him and the pages, pleasantly warm. Shadows of leaves swayed together with the yellowing light on the grass.

A larger shadow loomed and blotted over the white paper. Wang Ji looked up to see the boy carting two little rabbits by their ears.

He came, laughing and forever unable to stay still, into the quiet garden, bearing two rabbits.

He was shocked speechless.

"What's wrong? Your face got even stiffer than before.” The boy laughed, and presented them to him as if they were hunting trophies. They dangled quietly, without protest. “That surprised to see me?”

He tensed. "Put them down."

The boy looked at him bemusedly. "Ah, so that's what you're worried about." He tucked them into the crook of his arms, hand gently petting them. They really were very docile, Wang Ji noted.

"Doesn't it hurt them?"

“Hmm, my dad likes to lift them up like that, I think they must have gotten used to it." The boy circled a finger around the delicate ear of the white rabbit. It flicked upwards, tickled.

"You shouldn't do that." He said, young face serious.

The boy peered at him, a smile playing about his thin lips. "Relax, I never do it for long. Just did it to surprise you, haha!" He sat down beside him; the rabbits let down into his lap. They scrambled for footing and blinked curious eyes at him, whiskers quivering. One pair red, the other black.

"Want to hold one?" He offered in a softer voice.

Lan Wang Ji stared as the black one sniffed one corner of his book, considering. "Mn." He gingerly brought a finger closer to the twitching nose. A thought suddenly occurred to him. Do rabbits eat paper? Fascinated despite himself, he let the wandering nose creep closer.

(They do.

If Lan Wang Ji ended up with a slightly nibbled page, he did not say a word.)

His finger made contact. The rabbit looked up at him, ears perking.

It gently nosed back, butting his finger.

Wang Ji soon found himself booping a rabbit repeatedly as it raised its head higher and higher, chasing his finger on the way up.

A light laugh drifted next to his ear. Wang Ji glanced at him briefly, and looked away when they made eye contact.

“He just wants you to rub his head properly.” He was informed with a fond smile. The white rabbit remained curled up contentedly in its owner’s lap, watching its companion’s antics with lazy disdain.

So it continued until Lan Wang Ji ended up learning how to hold two rabbits that day, instead of Chapter 7 of the history textbook. The boy wouldn’t go until he had held both in his arms and petted them to his heart’s content, which was …not easy to determine, to say the least.

The boy kept scrutinising his face for any change in detail. What was he looking for?

"You should go soon-”

“Hold them longer. Hug them to your heart! Stare into their eyes!”

“…” He complied. The boy's eyes were too insistent, so he followed each step as bidden. Wang Ji gazed down into the blinking eyes of the rabbits held securely to his chest, and felt ...comforted. It was strangely soothing to feel two little heartbeats next to his own.

“Alright,” he sighed, voice squeaking on the verge of laughter. “I’ll take that as a smile.”

Wang Ji immediately frowned, puzzled. He almost felt for his face. Is that what it was? Why was he so eager to coax a smile out of him?

“You like them, so I’ll bring them over again~” With that, the boy bounded out of the garden into the fading evening light, as silent as he had come. Wang Ji got up—

—and finally noticed his clothes were mussed with small hairs.

.

// I wrote this in 2019 originally for LWJ’s birthday event, but I never managed to finish it. It’s been lurking since at ~10k words, haven’t written any more of it. Not sure if I will, it’s very long. If anyone’s interested in reading more, I can post the rest of what I’ve written!

So! Much of my childhood ended up bleeding in! I’ve a lot of fond memories like that, aha. Tried to set it in China at first, remembered the 1-kid-rule was in place at that time, gave up.

-have decided to style their courtesy names in canon as their only names in this modern au, hence the space apart.

[misterewrites]

Welcome to The Underground (original story)

Hey everyone, E here! Still alive. haha it’s been a while. So I wanted to do this for a long time and I decided just to go for it. You know, get back into the swing of things and work on my own projects so I apologize if it’s a little off or not up to my usual work.

So I’ll let the story do the talking but basically it’s heavily inspired by dnd because screw it I might as well embrace the madness, Crypt of the Nercodancer (My favorite game) and Hollow Knight (great game) 

It takes place in a vast underground kingdom in a fantasy style setting.

I hope you all enjoy it, we’ll see if I keep this up because I really did go all out on the world building and had fun and I hope you all have a great week! E out, bye!

We love you Abi. Don’t ever forget it.

“Mom?”

Abigail winced uncomfortably as the muscles in her body painfully ached.

“Why does everything pain? Why so much pain?” Abigail croaked, resisting the urge to move any further than she had to.

Abigail opened her eyes but instead of the blazing sun high above the mossy, wetlands of the Loss Swamp like she was expecting, it was a swirling darkness and towering smooth stony walls on every side.

A single ray of sunshine cut through the dark but small, leafy movement scurried to cover it, swarming the glimmer of light until it was completely engulfed in shadows once more.

“Okay that explains the cold air during summer.” Abigail whispered to herself, closing her gray eyes in preparation “One second then up you go Abi. One.”

No motion.

“I said one Abi” She scolded herself.

She bit her lip, ignoring the dull ache of her arms as she turned to one side on the cold jagged floor.

“Oh god let’s not do that again” she murmured to herself, taking a deep heavy breath to steady herself.

Abigail propped one elbow against the ground, then the other and slowly rose to her feet. The pain faded away and was replaced with an uneasy but manageable soreness she was more accustomed to working on her farm.

She could do this.

Whatever this was.

She stood to her full average height which wasn’t very tall but still better than kissing the floor. She stretched the stiffness out of her body, cracking the bones in her neck and fingers while glancing upwards.

“A cave entrance. The moss probably covered it up. And this is why invasive flora sucks.”

Abigail pursed her lips, wondering how exactly she was going to climb back up to the surface as she untangled her wet long reddish brown hair. As she was crossing a swamp, she hadn’t packed any climbing gear and who knows how deep the cave system really went.

Abigail paused her thoughts as the sound of rustling reached her ears. The scratching of fabric against leather was so oddly familiar...

Her bag!

She whipped around to the source of the noise and regretted at once as her neck muscles ached dully.

“Hey!” Abigail’s voice cracked “Oww, oww, neck. What are you doing!?”

The silhouette of the figure jumped up in surprise, shooting up to their feet, one hand raised in surrender while the other clutched a familiar dark red travel pack.

“You’re alive?” A male’s voice said with hint of confusion “That’s...that’s surprising.”

“Why?” Abigail snarled “Is that why you covered a hole with a rapid growing moss? What kind of sick trap are you running mister?”

“Moss?” The figure shook his head “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And, I checked your pulse. You were as dead as a doorknob.”

“Well obviously you didn’t do it right!”

The man shifted his weight uncomfortably “I mean it has been a while since I had to check a corpse. At least 4 years. I guess I lost my touch. I am really ashamed of myself. Seriously, I….”

Abigail tuned him out as she plucked her trusty dagger from her belt. She gripped it tightly, eyeing the shadowy figure carefully though it was hard to know where he began and the darkness of the cave ended.

“Okay.” He finished rambling “Obviously I was here to shift through a corpse’s bag and...”

“And you lost your chance!” Abigail yelled, lunging forward with murderous intent.

“Oh shit!” The figure cried out, stumbling backwards in surprise.

Abigail huffed angrily as her blade caught empty air.

“Hey!” She cried out as the person disappeared into the dark “COME BACK HERE!”

Abigail chased after him, wildly groping the thick shifting darkness, her blade scratching stone but not much else. It must’ve been seconds but to her it was an eternity when she found the soft light and a silhouette shrinking deeper into the cave.

Abigail gripped her blade tightly as she bumbled her way to the source of light, prepared for an ambush at the end of the tunnel.

She let out a battle cry, jumping around the corner hoping to catch anyone unaware.

“Wow.” She murmured softly as she took in the awe of the sight before her.

The tunnel had open up to a massive cavern: Mushrooms hung from every inch of the ceiling, gleaming with a greenish light that illuminated the cave brightly. The ground was a rolling hill with gravel, loose and uneven much like dirt. Rows of tilted and uneven stone slabs stretched out before her. Tombstones she guessed based on the faded wording and flowers scattered about.

“This is beautiful. I wonder if the mushrooms catch the moisture in the air to...FOCUS ABI!” She shook herself out of her stupor.

She caught sight of the figure retreating further and further away towards a small hut on the far side of the cavern: He wore an elegant jacket and dress pants though the embodied golden lines were faded. Slung around his back was a lute and in one hand, Abigail’s travel bag as the other flailed wildly.

“Revenge!” Abigail cried, brandishing the knife as she resumed the pursuit.

Well, tried to. She nearly lost her footing from the switch from solid stone to loose gravel. Her knife scraped against a weathered tombstone as she caught herself on it.

“Sorry about that.” She read “Lancer Dupoint. What kind of name is...”  

The figure stopped just short of the door, leaning on his knees while he tried to catch his breath “Would you please stop!”

“Never!”

“Look!” the figure shouted “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were still alive. People fall down there and die all the time, it wasn’t anything personal.”

Abigail huffed “If it’s not personal, why do you still have my bag?”

The man looked confused for a moment before he glanced to the bag still in his grip.

“Oh….”

“Oh is right!” Abigail snarled, flinging her knife with all her might.

The man held up the bag to protect himself but the dagger sunk harmlessly an inch away from his face, embedding itself in the wooden door of the hut.

“ARE YOU CRAZY!” he screamed “You could’ve killed me!”

“Did I hit you!?” Abigail replied, scrunching up in fear.

“No! You got the door!”

“Holy shit I got the door?! I never hit anything before! Did it stick?”

“Did it stick? DID IT STICK!? YEAH ABOUT AN INCH FROM MY FACE!”

“Sorry! I never thought I’d make it that far. It’s like what 40 yards?”

“You are crazy lady! Who just throws knives!?”

“I’m sorry I was really mad at you!”

The man let out a crazed chuckle “Mad? don’t throw knives at all! Even when you’re mad!”

“You robbed me!” Abigail raised a finger in accusing manner.  

“Not on purpose. I thought you died.”

The shouting stopped as the wooden door creaked loudly on its hinges.

“Oliver, is there a reason you are currently shouting outside my house?” an older man asked, staring curiously back and forth between the two.

Abigail walked slowly over the loose gravel underneath her foot and finally got a good look at the two strangers.

The younger, named Oliver, was maybe about 2 years older than her. He had brown eyes with black hair, a splash of freckles across his cheeks. He was lanky but not much taller with ill fitting performer’s clothes. Old, long since their prime but clearly one of an entertainer given their quality.

The older gentleman had graying hair that was once blonde with a thick beard, his blue eyes kind yet understanding. Abigail couldn’t place his age: Either was 45 or 60 though the way his body hunched and the slowness of his motions hinted at the latter. He wore a simple robe and boots clearly made of a thick material.

“Hello my dear” The older man spoke gently “I am Roland, the groundskeeper of the West End Cemetery and this” he playfully nudged the younger man “Is Oliver.”

“Hello….” Oliver mumbled uneasily.

“He helps me tend the graves for some extra coin. Not as spry as I used to be you know? And you, my dear?”

“Abigail!” she cheerfully beamed “Abigail Greenfield. I fell through a hole in the Loss Swamp and fell down here where I found that one!” Oliver whistled innocently “Was robbing me!”

“Not robbing” Oliver interrupted “Liberating a departed soul of their worldly possessions.”

Abigail expected a scolding or a disappointed scowl from Roland but none came, only a nod of agreement.

“I see. I’m sure Oliver meant no harm.”

“None whatsoever. She’s the one that came at me with a knife!”

“You were a strange man going through her things as she was passed out. You would’ve maintained the element of surprise too.”

Oliver opened his mouth to argue before he nodding in agreement “Okay fair.”

“Anyway, would you like to come in Abigail? I am sure you have many questions.”

“Nah, just one. How do I get back up to the swamp?”

Roland and Oliver shared a look.

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

“I can’t leave?” Abigail repeated after them, the shock of the statement slowly settling over her, the warm tea in her hands remaining untouched.

“Afraid not my dear.” Roland patted her arm sympathetically.

“T-That can’t be right. This is a vast underground cavern system, t-there must be away back to the surface.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Look, I’ve lived down here my whole life. If there was a way out, I would’ve heard about it by now. Anyone who could’ve gotten out probably already did. Mages, clerics, magic folk with that kind of power. All zipped off. Wall are too smooth and steep to climb. Everyone else lives here in the Underground. Or the Fifth nations. Or dwarf land.”

“Dwarf land? Dwarves! They must have an entrance to...wait did you just say Fifth Nations? Like….”

“That’s what they named themselves, I’m just repeating it.” Oliver answered.

“Anyway” Abigail continued “The dwarves must have a way up! They do business with a capital and that’s like 100 miles away from my hometown and across from the swamp. Wait, how big is the Underground?”

“Vast.” Roland sipped his tea “I’d say 75 miles give or take but many roads twist and curl in on itself. Travel to the Dwarf kingdom will be slow at best.”

“And nonexistent at realism” Oliver chimed in “The Underground has many roads but the deepest most of them go is the second level and without armed escort, you’re probably not going to survive.”

“Second level? Like floors?”

Roland cleared his throat “Let me explain life here: The Underground is a vast alliance of city states. We’ve been around for hundreds of years, trapped down here but making the best of it. Most of the citizens are are 5th or even 7th generation of descendants of people who fell though once in a while someone from the surface comes tumbling down.”

“Like me! I was crossing the Loss swamp. I was walking over some mossy covered ground when it suddenly gave out. I guess the mossy is an invasive species not native to the swamp.” Roland gave an impressed nod. Oliver was just confused.

“Anyway” Oliver coughed “There’s 4 levels to the Underground. Most cities are built on the first level. It’s closest to any natural sunlight and water, so most creatures avoid it like the plague. There’s a road or two up on this floor but if you wanna get anywhere, you gotta travel through the second layer. It’s further down, closer to the empty void of the cave’s darkness but it was easier to carve paths through. Much more dangerous. Like more creepy crawlers and things that generally want to eat you.”

“Also bandits.” Roland added.

“Right, those fuckers. Armed escort is heavily recommended. There’s a couple of outposts that offer safe haven and patrols with the odd city or two but not much more than that.”

“And the third level?” Abigail asked curiously.

Oliver snorted “hell if I know, that’s like noooo down there. I’ve never met anyone who ever went to the third level and lived. And I am still pretty sure the fourth level is just a myth.”

“Why were you in the swamp Abigail?”

Abigail bit her lips nervously.

“You don’t have to tell us.” Roland smiled softly.

“Thank you. Umm I….I don’t know what to do now.”

“Same” Oliver rolled his eyes “I guess you live here now. West End is a small town, pretty quiet. You’ll find something here to do.”

“I want to go to the dwarf kingdom.”

Oliver rubbed his eyes tiredly “That’s nice, so you do know what you want to do. I hope you get there. It’s allllll the way on the East side of the kingdom, past the Underground and the Fifth Nation and this is a little village at the other end.”

Abigail turned to Roland, ignoring Oliver’s comment “So I take it West End isn’t gonna have a lot of travel out of here?”

The wind picked up for a moment outside and the hut groaned uneasily though Roland paid it no mind.

Roland scratched his beard thoughtfully “Well, you are right. This is a small village. Not much resources for you here. The capital, Haven’s Nest, is the next city over.  You’ll have much better luck there though travel would be problematic.”

Oliver chimed in “You gotta go through a second floor path. Means you are going to need somebody who knows how to fight.”

Abigail pursed her lips, wracking her mind at possible solutions “Is there a mercenary group here?”

Oliver scratched his chin for a moment before snapping his finger “Yeah, the Swift Slivers. They’re a small group, loyal though and take fair pay but I doubt you have any….”

“My bag had at least 30 gold.”

“30 gold?” Oliver rose an eyebrow before realization hit “Wait! Surface gold?!”

“Umm.” Abigail’s eyes darted back and forth, unsure where he was going with this “Yeeeees?”

“That’s worth a fortune down here! Actually no, don’t pull that out unless you want to get robbed.”

“Right, sure.” Abigail was not sure what was going on anymore.

“Oliver.” Roland began slowly “Isn’t there a music competition you were saving up for in Haven’s Nest?”

“Yeeeeees.” Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously “But I still need to save up for the entry fee and paying the mercs to escort me.”

“I think you earned you pay for the month Oliver. I will cover the mercenary fee.”

“If?” Oliver rolled his eyes.

“You agree to take Abigail to the capital.”

It was harder to tell who was more opposed to the idea: The farm girl or the bard.

“Are you kidding me!? He robbed me!”

“She came at me with a knife! Even after I said I was sorry!”

“How can I trust him, he was looting my ‘corpse’!”

“She’s clearly crazy and I don’t feel safe traveling with her.”

Roland raised a hand, stopping the two arguments without a word.

“Abigail. You are new to this land. You have very little options and I can promise despite….first impressions, Oliver will not put you in danger.”

Roland turned to Oliver with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You want to go compete. This is the only way you’re going to get to the competition in time. All you have to do is take her to the capital where you were planning on going anyway. Are you really going to pass up a free ride?”

“Fine” The two huffed in unison “We’ll behave.”

“Good” Roland beamed, sliding a pouch of coins into Oliver’s hand.

Oliver glanced curiously at the older gentleman “Are you okay. Sir?”

Roland chuckled playfully “Yes quite. I just feel this is the best path forward for you both. Two people in need. A common destination. Two birds, one pouch.”

Oliver was uneasy about that answer but before he could continue with his questioning, Abigail spoke.

“Can I have my bag back?”

Oliver lost his train of his thought as he handed back the bag he had accidentally taken, glancing distastefully at his companion.  

At least she was prepared for travel: Long sleeved red tunic, blue bandana to keep her hair in check and black leggings tucked into hiking boots.

Roland let out a tired yawn, rubbing at his eyes sleepily “Now, if you excuse me, I think I need to sleep.”

“But it’s the afternoon.” Oliver muttered, something about the old man’s behavior not sitting well with him. He had never taken a nap during the day.

“I am quite old Oliver and if you hurry, you may be able to start traveling today.”

He was trying to get rid of them, Oliver was sure of that at least but the why eluded him.

Abigail simply nodded “Thank you Roland, for everything.”

“Goodbye Abigail. Oliver.”

Oliver frowned but shook the hand all the same “Old man.”

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

Roland waved cheerfully at the retreating figures of the unhappy pair. It wasn’t ideal and there was no guarantee that they weren’t going to kill each other but at least they were safe.

Roland took a deep, calming breath as he closed the door.

“You should’ve knocked, old friend.”

Roland turned around to find a cloaked figure sitting lazily in his chair, his golden yellow eyes peering through the shroud of his hood.

“Ello Roland. Long time.”

“Long time” Roland sighed “Tea? Milk?”

“Milk” The figure murmured with a grin “Sounds lovely.”

Roland grimaced, making his way to the kitchen to serve his uninvited guest.

“Nice house.” The figure called out, eyeing the small hut with approval “Cozy. Quiet. Isolated.”

“That’s why I picked it.” Roland answered, pouring the milk into a glass “Nice retirement plan.”

“Agreed.” The figure chuckled “Never thought you’d retire. The most powerful wizard in all the Underground. Toiling graves.”

“Well.” Roland poured a drink for himself “Not all of us want to die pursing endless hobbies.”

Roland made his way back to his guest, handing him his drink and taking a seat across from him.

“You got one ready out there?” The figure gestured to the window.

“Yeah. It’s by the gate. Very nice.”

“Perks of a gravekeeper.”

“Mhm.”

The silence was tense as they finished their drinks slowly. They stared at one another, the moment close at hand.

The figure stood up, drawing a blade hidden beneath his cloak “Would you like to take a read of your book before we start?”

Roland shook his head “I always hoped you would’ve died in this vain pursuit. I suppose I’ll have to kill you myself.”

The figure gave a toothy grin, his eyes gleaming with humor “I am blessed by my lady. You may try but I assure you I won’t be stopped.”

Roland remained silent, his finger tracing symbols in the air. Blue magical runes fill the appear before him as the figure closes the distance.

[afternoonpoppy]

OH WHAT HAVE I DONE.

I meant to write a short little thing with a pair of new characters of mine and hiccups, and I wrote, uhh... A whole bunch of lore and character focus. And then some hiccups later on but mostly character focus. I’m so sorry.

Featuring the very good boy Allister, and Wolfram, a spellcaster from another world who got reverse isekai’d who has found himself stuck in this strange little world called Earth thanks to magic shenanigans. (Maybe I’ll write the actual story of how these two met at some point but it’d probably be pure plot and no hics sooo I’ll probably make note of that if I do it)

The sun had already faded for the day, the approaching winter leaving no light even in the evening sky. Allister shut the front door behind himself quickly to preserve the warmth inside his small home as he entered. Taking off his coat and scarf, hanging them up on the rack by the door, he surveyed the interior and saw no sign of activity on the first floor. He left his boots at the door as well, not wanting to track dirt inside, and made his way to the stairs at the back of the house to find the second floor - consisting of a simple hallway and doors leading to two rooms - to be almost as quiet as the first.

The presence of another soul in the house was betrayed, however, by a faint musical tune originating from behind one of the doors. Allister stepped up to the door and knocked gently first, waiting for a response.

"Come in," the response came after a moment, muffled by the wooden door and walls. Allister opened the door to look inside what had once simply been a spare storage room.

Small motes of multicolored light hovered about the room, occasionally shifting from a simple spherical shape to vaguely resembling different animals. Some were perched on the eclectic bookshelves Allister had recently furnished the room with, grabbing at different books and journals from the slowly-growing collection in the room and depositing them on the desk that sat at the room's back wall.

Seated in a chair by the desk, facing away from the door, was the highly-occupied, slim-framed young man that had requested the room be converted into a study, to begin with. He was positioned leaned over the desk, focusing his attention on furiously scribbling notes over sheets of paper and flipping through the books. Allister's old portable radio seemed to be the source of the music, sat atop the desk.

"Wolfram?" Allister addressed gently, feeling unsure if his presence was welcome in the room.

Wolfram turned, placing down the pen he'd been writing with as he looked at Allister. "You're home early, aren't you?"

Allister wondered just how long Wolfram had been caught up in his work. "I'm actually a bit late getting back - it's almost six."

"Oh." Wolfram glanced out the window of the study's back wall, furrowing a brow in thought.

Allister stepped into the room, taking care not to get in the way of any of the motes floating around. "Is the radio working out well for you?"

Wolfram nodded, idly turning down the radio. "It's easy enough to operate." He didn't say much else though, still staring out the window.

"Well... I'm guessing you didn't make as much progress as you wanted?" He gestured to the notes and scattered books on the desk. He didn't honestly understand what any of it was, but he did gather that it was a complex arcane matter.

Wolfram continued to stare out the window. "No. No, I suppose not." He sounded tired, and... disheartened.

Allister didn't care to hear his unorthodox roommate sounding like that, and found himself wracking his brain for some way to help. "Well, in that case... How about dinner? You must be exhausted, I'll bet the break and food will do you some good."

Wolfram's gaze lingered on the window a moment longer, then turned back to the desk, leaning over one of the books and letting his red hair hide his face from Allister's view. "It's fine, I am not hungry." At that moment, however, it seemed Wolfram's stomach was quite ready to disagree, letting out just loud enough of a growl to be heard by the pair. Wolfram visibly tensed up, likely hoping his stomach's complaints weren't so easily noticed.

Allister opted not to address it directly, instead softly reiterating, "A break will be good for you, Wolfram."

Wolfram responded with a tired sigh, but gave in and looked to face Allister. "Fine, but I want something freshly made, none of that packaged 'instant' meal nonsense you have in the pantry."

Allister shrugged. "They're not so bad. Besides, they're faster to make."

Wolfram shook his head, giving a look of disdain and repeated, "Something fresh tonight."

"Alright, alright, if you insist."

---

Per Wolfram's request, Allister went exploring through his refrigerator to find ingredients for a home-cooked meal, coming to the realization he had just enough for a sweet & sour chicken recipe. It would take a bit of time to make, but that did give him an excuse to keep Wolfram away from the study for a bit longer.

"So... What exactly are these little guys, anyway?" Allister asked, shooing a curious light-mote-rabbit-bird away from the chicken cooking in the pan.

"They are spirits, as I believe I mentioned once before," Wolfram answered rather unhelpfully from the kitchen table where he sat. He did seem to enjoy watching Allister cook.

"No, I meant, what... what are they? Like... If I ask 'what's a cat' and someone says they're animals that eat mice and purr and knock things off of tables."

"I see..." Wolfram thought on that for a moment. "Apologies, I often forget most humans don't interact with them often. In short, they are the product of magic in the environment that has gathered in a comparatively dense concentration and spent much time interacting with a particular natural aspect, such as a plant or a pond. From there, the dense magic that has gathered forms into one entity and gains a will of its own, which is now a spirit."

Allister glanced over at Wolfram with an expression that was uncertain at best.

"Hm, alright... Think of it this way; if you crack an egg onto that pan and expose it to the heat, it would change, yes?"

"You would have a fried egg."

"Yes. If magic gathers together and interacts with an aspect of the environment instead of heat, the same concept happens."

"You get fried magic?" Allister couldn't help but grin at his own joke if you could call it that, while Wolfram stared back with an eyebrow raised.

"It changes," Wolfram said, "and becomes a spirit."

"I... think I understand." Allister didn't understand, unsure if for his own faults or if Wolfram was simply a poor teacher, but moved on to a new question. "Are they intelligent?"

"About as much as an animal. They can follow simple commands, so I call them to my side for basic assistance."

"So they're... Sort of like your familiars?" Allister asked, calling on what little terminology he knew from pop culture.

"Similar in concept, yes. Though they have poor attention spans so it is best to have multiple around rather than relying on one and hoping that it does not grow bored." Wolfram absentmindedly placed a hand over his stomach as it growled once more for food. Allister wondered if the poor thing had remembered to eat lunch while he was away, as he was noticing Wolfram tended to ignore such things when wrapped up in work like he was today.

"Dinner will be ready soon."

---

Once the promised meal was prepared, a hearty helping of rice and chicken, Allister placed a plate on the table in front of Wolfram who immediately perked up at the sight and smell of the food. Allister sat down in the other chair with his own plate, idly asking, "So... You can cast magic?"

Wolfram was already shoveling forkfuls of food into his mouth by the time the question was asked. For someone with such small stature, he had displayed a voracious appetite when presented with food he liked, which seemed to be any of Allister's home-cooked meals. Though Allister couldn't quite tell if that was more due to Wolfram's tendencies to neglect the need for food.

Before taking another bite of food, Wolfram paused to answer the question with a confused tone. "Did we not establish this when we first met? The day you found me in your cellar? Having been transported to your world by magic? I have experience with the subject, yes."

"I mean, yeah, I know," Allister said in defense. "What I mean is... I didn't know magic was even a thing until then. And, well, you showed me that light spell you can cast, and I see the spirits..." Allister paused, suddenly second-guessing if he was about to overstep a boundary. Stories always talked about responsible usage of magic, was there some sort of magic etiquette he was ignoring?

Wolfram, on the other hand, seemed far less concerned, commenting between bites of food, "You want to see me cast a spell?"

"Is - is that alright?" Allister couldn't deny how curious he was about magic and what Wolfram could do with it.

"Well, I suppose, given how helpful you've been, some demonstration of my skill is a reasonable request." Wolfram exaggerated his tone as if the request were plain and tedious, but even Allister could tell Wolfram was playing it up. The young spellcaster clearly liked the attention.

Wolfram pushed aside his plate, which he'd already almost emptied completely, and began tracing a finger along the table's surface. As he did, he whispered a quiet string of words which Allister could not understand but had come to know to be the spell's incantation - the 'magic words' that made the spell work. Following Wolfram's finger along the table was a sparkling trail of light formed, leaving shapes and patterns on the surface of the table. Allister watched, mesmerized by the glow of the lines.

"It's a simple spell," Wolfram said, pausing in the spell's incantation, no new trails of light being drawn as he spoke. "The lines will eventually fade on their own if not refreshed, or with my command -" he whispered another spell phrase and waved a hand over the lines, causing them to vanish, " - which makes them ideal for writing if I want to keep it private."

"Or if you don't have a pen and paper," Allister chimed in. "What else can you do?"

"Hm... Ah, yes." Wolfram turned his focus to a small clock hung up on the wall, accompanying another incantation with a hand motion that the clock responded to by levitating off of the wall on its own accord.

"You can do that?!" Allister watched in amazement as the clock floated through the air at Wolfram's command. "I always thought things would be so much easier if I could move things around with my mind. Uh, or magic, in this case."

A slight grin began to spread over Wolfram's face. "Naturally, the use of magic makes numerous tasks quite a bit - hic!"

With a sudden hiccup, Wolfram's spell was interrupted and the clock clattered to the floor, startling Allister.

"Are you alright?" Allister asked, seeing that even Wolfram himself looked surprised by the abrupt interruption.

"Um, yes, I -" Another 'hic!' cut off Wolfram and jumped through his body, and he clasped a hand over his mouth, cheeks tinted red from embarrassment.

Allister held back a smile - seeing Wolfram so flustered was endearing in a way, but he didn't want his reaction mistaken for teasing by the younger man. "It's alright, Wolfram. You did eat a bit fast, didn't you?"

"I..." Wolfram kept his hand over his mouth, muffling another hiccup, then admitting, "Your cooking is quite good." He moved his hand to his stomach and added, "Perhaps... Perhaps you are not incorrect, however."

Allister frowned. "Does your stomach hurt?"

Wolfram didn't answer, sheepishly avoiding eye contact as he struggled and failed to quiet his hiccups. The way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, however, told Allister that he was also 'not incorrect' about that guess as well. "Would you like to lie down for a bit?"

Wolfram hesitated, then said, "No, it's - hic - it's fine. It will pass soon, I'm sure, and I should be getting back to wor - hic!" After that last hiccup rudely forced its way into the conversation, Wolfram did not bother to finish the thought and sighed with frustration instead.

"Wolfram, I think you've been working hard enough as it is. It's fine for you to take a break for the night if - "

"It is not fine, Allister!" Wolfram suddenly shouted, causing Allister to flinch at the abrupt change in attitude. "It is not - hic - it is not..." Wolfram slumped over the table, defeat in his tone as he spoke now. One hand remained protective over his stomach, the other gripping the side of his head through his hair.

"Wolfram?" Panicked with concern, Allister found himself standing up from his chair and rushing to the other side of the table before he knew what he was doing. Gently rubbing Wolfram's back in an effort to calm him despite a hiccup or two fighting against the contact, Allister spoke softly, "Hey, hey, what's going on? You can talk to me, Wolfram, it's alright." Once Allister noticed what he was doing, he feared the contact would be inappropriate but was surprised to see Wolfram not only accept it but lean towards Allister.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Wolfram suddenly said.

"What? What for?"

"For lying." Wolfram lifted his head from the table to meet Allister's gaze. "I'm not - hic - I'm not the powerful wizard I wanted you to think of me as. I was still an apprentice in training before - hic - before all of this."

Allister was taken aback by the confession. It wasn't so much Wolfram's status as apprentice that surprised him, Allister hadn't really thought about how powerful Wolfram was, but surprise to hear Wolfram thought this image of himself was so crucial. "Wolfram, I.. I don't think any less of you for that. I still think it's amazing that you can do these things."

"Of course you do, you're amused by simple light and - hic - levitation spells."

"I'll try not to take any offense to that," Allister deadpanned.

"I've spent this time in your home focusing so much on my magic. Yet I cannot - hic - I cannot levitate a clock without dropping it from something as minor a nuisance as - hic!"

Allister nodded sympathetically, switching from rubbing Wolfram's back to gentle pats, unsure which would be more helpful at the moment. "So, um, if you don't mind me asking, what have you been doing in the study?"

"You recall the books we found in the cellar?"

Allister nodded. The day the pair had met, they had also located several tattered books hidden away in the cellar which Wolfram had claimed to hold some value and added to his growing book collection upstairs. "You said they were some sort of... arcane records?"

Wolfram hiccuped. "They were remaining journals from the mentor I studied under. I've been attempting to read through them to continue my studies. Unfortunately, it - hic - it is no simple matter, so doing this without a mentor is not an easy task."

"I see... And I guess it's not exactly easy for you to just find someone else to teach you, huh?"

Wolfram sighed, leaning to the side and letting his weight rest against Allister's chest. "Is... this alright?"

Allister felt warmth rushing to his cheeks at the contact. "Uh, yeah, that's fine. You sure you don't want to lie down, though?"

"I suppose," Wolfram answered. He stood up, allowing himself to be guided to the living room couch by Allister. Allister felt bad that the only bed he was able to offer in his modest home was the couch with some spare pillows and blankets, but Wolfram had insisted the meager accommodations were fine. That seemed to hold true here as well, as Wolfram wasted no time in making himself comfortable, one arm still draped over his stomach and hiccups jolting his body every few seconds, and yet, he was able to lie down suitably well.

"Do you want some medicine for your stomach?" Allister asked.

"I do not - hic - care for medicine." Wolfram tucked his legs in just enough to allow space for someone to sit on the other end of the couch. "If you'd like, however, I... I do find your company helpful." He buried his face in one of the pillows as he spoke, hiding from eye contact.

"Oh, I..." Allister was unsure of what to say, feeling that warmth return to his face. He was starting to realize, despite this perhaps being a poor time for it, that he did also enjoy Wolfram's presence. Allister accepted the invitation and sat down. "If, um, if you want, I don't mind if you stretch your legs out again."

Wolfram unburied his face from the pillow to look at Allister, gauging if he should or not, then stretched his legs out over Allister's lap. "This is fine?"

"Mm-hm." Allister nodded. "Hey... I know you're worried about the magic thing, but I think you'll do fine."

Wolfram hiccuped and autopiloted a nod.

"But, I don't know, studying on your own can be really hard, so... If I can help at all..."

"You want to help me - hic - study magic?"

"Well, I - I know I have no idea how any of this works or anything, but -"

"I might appreciate the help," Wolfram mumbled, sounding notably drowsy. "For now, I... think some - hic - some rest... sounds..."

Wolfram failed to finish the sentence and Allister noticed the poor thing had already fallen asleep. Allister watched the steady rise and fall of Wolfram's chest, which was occasionally interrupted by stubborn hiccups that amazingly failed to wake him. As Allister's gaze lingered, he realized something else about Wolfram - he was cute.

Allister grabbed a blanket from where it lay on the back of the couch and did his best to spread it out over Wolfram while trapped under his legs. It wasn't the best job Allister had ever done, but Wolfram didn't seem picky at the moment. Softly, Allister whispered, "Goodnight."

[first-man-adams-blog]

My Decision: Thoughts, Theories, and Some Changes to how I do Things from here

Ok...so here it is. I’ve decided to keep F/O-ing Aaravos. What happened in season 3 wasn’t unexpected. The creators hinted numerous times about his role in season 3, and I knew something was coming. I just wasn’t sure how to process my feelings on it.

Warning: If you care about spoilers, don’t read any further. Spoilers for season 3 of The Dragon Prince is below.

I came to the conclusion it wasn’t that he did bad things...but who toward. That being Viren. The villain of the show. I like Viren as a character still, and I guess now I see what Jason Simpson (his VA) in an interview was saying. He likes Viren as the complicated villain he is...but if he wasn’t just joking around, he doesn’t feel the same about Aaravos. At least this season.

I think it’s because those that genuinely like Viren’s character (not agreeing with his actions, but not disliking him as a character) will have a harder time with the scenes where Aaravos is doing something to him. Like the webbed up eye so he could see Aaravos’ ghostly apparition or the scene where the caterpillar emerged from Viren’s mouth but much longer and larger...and then continued to change in the final episode. As well as the many times he used clever wordplay on Viren to steer his thoughts into bigger plans...plans I think Viren would have had already, but until he became king he didn’t have the power to go through with it and was still in the habit of not overstepping his boundaries.

Viren is capable of lying and could be lying to himself about what he wants from Xadia. He just got power, he doesn’t want to lose it over a risky decision...but Aaravos knows what Viren is like, and uses that to his advantage.

If you like Viren’s character...you’ll probably have a hard time still liking Aaravos in those scenes. Because Viren IS the bad guy...and Aaravos IS manipulating him slowly but surely. It still isn’t clear what this means, or why...but I’m sticking to my belief Aaravos’ role isn’t as a villain, but he is an antagonist. There’s a difference between the two.

The show creators say mixed things on him. In their Tweets we get quite a bit of subtle but ominous warnings...and a confession his design was an attack on the fandom, from Aaron Ehasz (show co-creator) as a joke. Then Ehasz repeatedly says throughout several interviews that Aaravos is very complicated, and has said once that Aaravos is “disliked, that’s not the same as bad.” This being in response to Justin Richmond (the other co-creator) saying “and obviously he’s bad enough they literally tried erasing him from the {history} books.” Ehasz’ exact response being “he’s complicated” and Richmond saying “he’s interesting enough they tried erasing him from the books.” Ending in the above line from Ehasz of “he’s disliked. That’s not the same as bad.”

He was making a clear distinction between the two words, probably anticipating the suspicions from the fans hearing or reading the interview of his (Aaravos’) place in the story. This doesn’t make him good either...canonically I can’t call Aaravos “good” in any sense right now. Except good at being sassy and a show-off. lol

But I won’t put him fully in the villain category. Sol Regem was willing to kill the future King of the Dragons and an elf of Xadia if they didn’t let him kill the human with them either way. Yet he’s in all the promotional posters for some reason as well as the prologue opening. That part, of course, is made more clear in the first episode of season 3, though. He was flying toward the Dark Mage from the prologue in episode 1 of season 1. Then flying blindly as his face was burning after the confrontation.

He’s clearly also important to the plot...but I can’t call him ‘bad’. Not great...but not a villain.

The last bit of evidence is Aaravos’ actual name. It’s of Danish and Arabic origin and means “between light and dark, not good or bad.” Every other name has been spot-on:

Callum-Dove King: He’s a Sky Mage, and the Skywing elves are strongly influenced by bird themes, much like Moonshadows have strong ninja themes and the Startouch...is literally covered in stars and wearing a constellation on his clothes. Callum is a Sky mage, doves are birds, and he’s working toward a peaceful future. Doves are a symbol of peace.

Ezran-Helper: Look how helpful he was this season especially!

Viren-Leader of heroes: Uh...ok I don’t know WHAT heroes...but he is a good leader. Say what you will about his character, he has leadership skills. Aaravos didn’t have to teach him that stuff.

Claudia-Lame: Ok this is a bit harsh...but it is the ‘crippled’ lame. She’s...not doing well now. She isn’t physically crippled, but mentally and emotionally she is pretty badly wounded.

Ziard-Wizard: He’s a Dark Mage. A wizard. Spot on.

Sol Regem-Sun King: They literally say his name meaning...SUN KING. He was a king of the dragons once and is an Archdragon of the Sun.

Zubeia-Beauty, grace any of those. She really fits that name. She is beautiful.

Avizandum-Reserve Judgement: I interpret that to mean on Aaravos. He locked him in the place behind the mirror because he isn’t sure how to deal with him yet before Viren and Harrow slay him (Avizandum.) Aaravos is literally in 300 year jail time right now, and Avizandum was still deciding if he should execute him or not for whatever he did.

That or he’s reserving judgment on humans, which is why he defends the border instead. We might find out eventually...cause that is still a mystery. Why is the king of the dragons guarding the boarder 24/7? I get he was basically the ruler of all of Xadia...but it’s still an odd choice.

Anyway, Aaravos. Names clearly mean things in this show. I think his is the hint that he seems bad right now, but he isn’t. He isn’t good, but he isn’t bad. I don’t know how they’ll pull that off...but I’ll be impressed if they do.

There was also still more evidence on a theory I have that he’s telling the story is true as well. In the prologue, he calls Avizandum by his human-given name: Thunder. He says “the humans called him Thunder. For when he spoke his voice shook the earth and the sky.” In the episode we learn what happened to Avizandum, Aaravos is the one to say the name, but Viren doesn’t recognize it.

Viren is the one that tells Aaravos what they called Avizandum. Which was “Thunder.” If Aaravos isn’t an omniscient narrator and has been imprisoned for 300 years or so...how would he know this in the prologue if he didn’t in that scene? Coupled with the opening sequence of his hands uncurling a map, the lighting and desk surface or the shade of blue of his skin being nothing like in his prison. I could be wrong, and while I’d be disappointed to be...oh well.

What I’m saying is...Aaravos lives to tell the story if my theory is right. Which means he isn’t bad enough the writers have to kill him or something else...I don’t know how they’ll do it if it’s true, but I will be quite interested to see it.

Aside from the Sunfire elves in Lux Area, who I don’t think deserved what happened, his actions are all for a purpose related to what’s happening...but if we knew his perspective maybe it would seem less like a random evil act, which contradicts him being complex if it was just a show of his power and how ruthless he can be. Because from our perspective there wasn’t a reason to kill the Sun Queen other than “look how evil he is! Oooh!” Which doesn’t go along with the information we’ve been given so far. There’s more to this scene, I’m sure. Though it could just be that he killed her so she couldn’t reveal what he whispered in her ear...which was also a strange move. See? He’s complicated and there are still a lot of mysteries surrounding him and his actions. Aside from that, the only one Aaravos has done much of anything to is Viren. Anything kind of graphic and sort of gross (at least with the caterpillar.) Who is again...the Bad Guy.

So all that to say...yes, I’m going to keep him as an f/o. But in doing so I’m ignoring the show canon on this blog. As in I won’t be trying to work my S/I into the narrative as much anymore for the time being. I’m going to treat the blog similar to how @justafictionalthing​ where I don’t worry about canon or accuracy to the character’s personality in the source material to a T. I still love the show, don’t misunderstand. I’m going to watch it to the end of the saga, whatever happens...but on this blog, for the time being, I’m treating it like the Aaravos here and the canon are separate.

My Aaravos, the interpretation on this blog, is aware of his source material. If anyone’s read Inkheart, think of it like that. Fictional character comes out of their source material but still exists in the story itself as well. I might make a little story or something explaining this, but that’s the angle I’m going for in all future Takeovers and commentary.

I don’t dislike his canon portrayal, I know he’s more than what we saw...but for the blog it just doesn’t work right now. My S/I would never be ok with what he’s been doing...and keeping it hidden from her goes into some risky territory... I like that kind of stuff if there’s a happy ending payoff, but for the overall blog and my way of selfshipping, which has turned more “I’m actually with this character, not just writing myself in their story,” it doesn’t work.

TL;DR: I don’t hate or even dislike canon!Aaravos, but he doesn’t work well with what I want on this blog. I’m still with him, but the version you guys have gotten to know on this blog. Sassy but friendly and knowledgeable, and now separated from his source material almost Inkheart-style.

I’m too attached to who he is now from relationship development to drop this. I still like his canon self, but he’s changed a lot on this blog. If you don’t like that, watch the show for the ‘true’ Aaravos experience. Nothing but soft and sassy here for now. With some dark stuff if I’m in the mood for it.

[davidmann95]

Could we get a DCEU One Million film?

…huh. That’s a prospect I have to admit I hadn’t considered in the slightest, and one that opens up some really interesting dimensions, ones not even explored in the original crossover.

When I’d thought in terms of a concrete future for the DC movies, my thoughts had always immediately turned to Kingdom Come. That’s sensible, right? A tragic, apocalyptic end to the age of heroes slathered in biblical allusions and set off by an ideological wedge driven between its most iconic heroes, with Alex Ross’s take on the Justice League clearly being the primary aesthetic influence on the DCEU taken from the actual source comics. Everybody fights over vaguely topical concerns, everyone’s framed as gods and they’re all very sad, there’s a gigantic spectacle ending in a tremendous bodycount, and while the ending is an optimistic one, it also ends the idea of superheroes as we’ve always known them, i.e. them dressing in those silly costumes and not grappling at length with their own geopolitcal implications. Hell, this book pioneered Superman brooding because he’s paralyzed with indecision over his place in the world as a symbol and Wonder Woman killing dudes with a sword; that those were deliberate contrasts meant to show how far astray they’d gone didn’t do jack shit considering this is the biggest comic those two have ever been at the center of. Obviously, if there’s any ultimate fate for the universe that would fit with the DCEU’s tonal, aesthetic, and character priorities and tie them all up in a nice bow, it would seem to be this one.

The issue is Justice League happened, and while it only rebooted the whole enterprise in terms of approach rather than continuity (aside from some lazy writing and/or creators throwing their arms up in the air and deciding “this take sucked, we’re going with a new one, deal with it”) - though a continuity component also seems to be coming to double-down on the new take anyway in Flashpoint, a pretty questionable decision at this point - it’s just not the same world anymore. Superman’s all Superman-ey, Batman occasionally cracks jokes, Flash is a goofball, John Williams and Danny Elfman music have taken back over, and with Wonder Woman as the new lead feature, the franchise as a whole seems to be pivoting towards more straightforward blockbuster fare rather than aiming far beyond its reach to try and make The Dark Knight multiplied by The Avengers with the guy behind 300 at the helm. In that context, all our heroes’ noble aspirations going to hell and climaxing in the US Government nuking a sizable portion of Superman’s friends seems significantly less like the inevitable outcome of the entire enterprise.

Assuming the original high concept stayed in place - Justice Legion Alpha travels back in time to get the primordial Justice League to celebrate something in the future, shit goes sideways - the surrounding context is different enough as to produce a totally different effect from the original series. The JLA of that book were old hands at travelling through space and time, and the idea that they’d have massive impact in centuries to come: Flash had a nephew from the 30th century, which Superman regularly commuted to after school as a kid. The idea behind One Million wasn’t what the idea of the 853rd century meant to those characters so much as DC as a whole: that everything turns out okay in the end. Here however, this is the first time these versions of the characters have dealt with anything remotely like this, and so they’re all going to be bringing a ton of emotional baggage into play. Wonder Woman, raised to venerate ancient myths and champions, sees herself reinterpreted as one; nerdy scared Flash learns he gives rise to the most prolific and storied superheroic lineage of all time; Cyborg finds his image smoothed over by the tide of history as another platonic champion rather than a guy who struggles with his body and isn’t sure how he feels about this whole superhero thing period; Aquaman having spent his life running from Atlantis is told he’s destined to become its greatest king; Batman after a career of relative obscurity who knows his end is close at hand and who probably thinks of himself as the guy who got the really important people together in spite of his fuck-ups learns his legacy is in fact acknowledged and maintained forever, even as at the same time he can barely restrain his horror at the idea of Batman always being needed. And Superman? He’s not comfortable with the expectation of godhood, and having literally risen from the dead to prevent hell on Earth means people in the DCEU would likely go from thinking “is he…a god?” to “Yes, yes he is God, this is self-evident and the commonly accepted understanding”. So humanity’s ultimate fate being to deliberately remake itself in his image is something he might not actually be altogether comfortable with. Even whether or not you go whole-hog with Superman living at the heart of a star and reviving Lois and Krypton at the end, or the teams collaborating across 83,000 years to create a computerized murder-sun with an insecurity complex, this brings enough to the table in terms of reconceptualizing the ‘heroes as gods’ vibe of the previous movies and introducing the legacy aspect of these characters in the biggest way possible to more than justify the bonkers conceit narratively.

Aside from that, there’s the practical bonuses; as with Guardians of the Galaxy for Marvel, this opens the door for doing bigger and weirder stuff in the other movies, especially since the implicit understanding is that everything weird in the 853rd century has or will have some antecedent in the present; hell, you could set up as many future movies as you wanted with throwaway lines about historical events that the League will eventually go through. Plus WB gets a whole new line of action figures and statues and whatnot out of it, and another gaggle of heroes to pad out the ranks when (or I suppose if at this point given how badly the original plans were clearly knocked off track) they try for their version of Crisis. So while the answer is that of course they’ll never do DC One Million - it’s entirely too ridiculous for them to countenance even now, and between the Legion of Doom, a potential showdown with the Suicide Squad, and Flashpoint (which has its own alternate versions of Justice League characters) there’re already several immediate concerns demanding to be attended to in a Justice League sequel, with Darkseid still an all likelihood waiting in the wings for a third if they make it that far at this point, plus it would sort of undercut the Legion if they ever decided to use them - I’d say that they could, and therefore should.

[yangxiaolonging]

Iokheaira: Part 1

(Hark, a Vagrant! #328)

It was going to take the continuation of my favorite fic of all time to revitalize my love of STRQ. we in it now boiz

Go read Iokheaira!!! If you haven’t read the original fic Akrasaia go read that too! @romanimp​ and @theivorytowercrumbles (sorry, for some reason I can’t @ you, Ivory :C )

It’s got everything: bloodthirsty fairies, swords, gay rwbies, sharp teeth, claws, creative application of the seelie court, and courtly intrigue. I even recommend this fic to my friends who’ve never been in to RWBY just because this is just such solid writing and I would kill for an original universe series by the Bear Senate.

ANYWAYS PART 1 LETS GET NASTY

this is a wonderfully long chapter so I’m going to at least try to keep this vaguely succinct 

It starts with the trash bird twins and I’m in love. We never get to see Qrow and Raven as a team in the show, just them being the bitter husks left behind by bad decisions and tragedy. Raven and Qrow were a Team since they were children and seeing them fight together and banter is nice, even if it’s Branwen quality interactions.

Qrow held up the mask, his fingers hooked around the first cusp of bone. It had always looked like a pair of bird's wings to Raven's eye, each skeletal layer flaring outward, yet wholly joined to itself. The red paint marking it was in dire need of repair, but the helmet beneath had survived untold generations, passed through the Wild Hunt with each death of the wearer.

aaaahhhh

Through a veil of bone, everything looked like prey.

aaaaAAHHH

Raven used the edge of her sword to pry it from the snow, spying polished links of gold woven together with feathers of black glass looped between the chain. She carefully transferred the bracelet into her gloved hand, looking for any sign of decay, but it merely seemed to be part of a matched set absent its twin.

AAAAAHHHH

"A trophy." Raven remarked, although the gallows humor didn't lift the pressure now crushing its way through her chest. "Maybe I should give it to the girl she left behind."

AAAAAAAHHHH

And if I hadn’t thought I was fucked to begin with, I sure knew then. It’s always delicious piecing together bits and scraps of information given between two different sources in the same canon. The liberties Roman and Ivory take with existing lore is always so good.  (listen. read akrasaia if you haven’t. do it. do it now. i linked it at the top of the post.)

Poor Amber gets wanged in every universe she’s put in. RIP. 

I love how despite the Wild Hunt being sort of the gray area between the Courts, Raven has always been a very intense and black and white person. 

Pushing at her knees, Raven stood. When she spoke she raised her voice somewhat so that those other members of the Hunt could hear. “Corruption is the Hunt’s prerogative. The Courts are none of our concern.”

Qrow rolled his eyes in reply. “Oh, sure. And if you just so happen to do their dirty work along the way, all’s the better.”

Behind the mask, Raven’s eyes flashed, and she rounded on him. “If I had wanted to kill the King's daughter before his own Court in royal assembly, I would have had every right!”

With a laugh, Qrow shook his head, hands on hips, his enormous scythe slung across his back. “See -- that’s just your problem. With you, it’s always the word of the law, never the spirit.”

Raven scoffed. She rested her hand upon the pommel of her sword at her hip. “The spirit of the law is for humans and philosophers. It means nothing, and you know it.”

At that, Raven paused, holding the mask between her hands. The Hunt, the casteless, the nameless, forsaken of the Courts, those who walk between worlds, those who slay transgressors from the path of nature by removing themselves from the cycle, entire.

:’))))) I love her sfm.......

Shout out to Cythera “how much can I fuck with this terrifying dark haired woman” Adel. 

Dropping to her knees, the fae shrugged the stag to the ground in order to lay it at Raven’s feet. For a moment she remained there, gathering her strength before using the stag’s antlers to push herself upright once more. The two stood close enough that Raven could cleave a sword through her heart without a second thought. Releasing a long, suppressed breath, Raven finally uncurled her fist from her sword, but her stance remained tense, on edge. Defiance reigned in the fae’s eyes, and for a brief moment Raven felt unmasked before her.

Cinder is too gay and too powerful and that’s the theme of all seelie au writing. 

In a smooth motion, Raven stepped over the stag, moving close and lowering her voice. “It would seem I know you after all.”

...

Dipping her fingers into a pouch strung along the belt at her waist, Raven retrieved the chain’s twin and held it up for Cinder to see.

Amber eyes widened. Cinder’s hand darted up to snatch the trinket from Raven’s grasp, but she pulled her own hand back with a finger raised in warning. Lip curling in a snarl, Cinder hissed, “That belongs to me.”

“Is that so?” Raven cocked her head. “The way I see it, a prey’s trophy belongs to no one but the hunter.”

Cinder’s face went through a range of emotions, shifting from dawning horror, to sorrow, to flinty resolve, then settling on an ardent fury.

Raven hummed a contemplative note at the back of her throat. “Ah, yes. I can see the resemblance, now.”

I know for a Fact that Ivory is waging a shadow campaign to make everyone ship Cinder/Raven. (spoilers: they succeeded and I ship it)

Anyways, time to jump into the most wonderful time of the year: Beltane.

"Who says that it's my first?" The girl was riled now, and hastened her step so she could dart in front of Raven, walking backwards across the bridge like it was no trouble at all. "I won't run if you bare your teeth, stranger."

The hint of amusement Raven took from the exchange twisted into a darker hunger, and she shuddered with it. Swift as a shadow, she pinned the other faerie to the side of the bridge, nearly bowing her over the rail that guarded the edge. Her mask was a mere centimeter from the girl's face, close enough for the next shocked, ragged breath to warm the outline of painted bone.

"Tell me your name," Raven growled.

"V-Vernal," she choked back, fear outpacing the need in her veins as the strength pinning her in place became apparent.

"Vernal," Raven repeated, rolling the name over her tongue like a bite of fresh meat, "Go find some beautiful girl who looks at you like the sun and stars. Come near me again and I'll eat you to the marrow."

me: 

With the sun soon to fall, Summer had surrendered her regalia to the chest at the foot of her bed, crown and cloak locked away in a bed of red velvet. Without them, her black dress was a dark column in the center of the room, severed only by the pale, waxen lacing woven beneath Summer's ribs. If not for the centuries she had already ruled, Raven would scarcely be able to guess the Queen's age, for those who sat upon the rosewood throne were unburdened by time, immune to the withering whisper of the seasons that followed.

THERE SHE IS IT IS HER IT IS MY DARLING IT IS MY QUEEN SOUND THE TRUMPETS ITS MY GIRL ITS SUMMER

Summer Rose took One look at Raven and immediately decided she needed to fuck her/fuck with her in any way possible and if that doesn’t make her a national treasure and hero I don’t know what does.

I’m already copy-pasting huge chunks of text so I’ll spare everyone me just showing the entire Summer/Raven interaction save for this bc in this house we ship Nevermore and tasty tasty writing.

"May I offer a parting gift, then?" The distance they shared was closed with one careful step, and Summer's dress was a whisper of cloth away from making the two of them touch. "To ease your travel."

She hungered. It felt like such a primal, animal admission, that something as simple as touch could render her a beast. Raven nodded before she could stop herself, and bit back a sound when Summer's fingers slipped beneath the edge of her mask, drawing it up and away. Her eyes recoiled from the light, their red long lost to pulsing black, but then Summer's hands were cupping her jaw, drawing her down to a warm and yielding mouth.

The kiss stung like a brand, searing through Raven's body until she was forced to pull away, her restraint twisted taut to one singular, quivering thread. One more touch, even Summer's breath against her skin, and it would snap.

"Blessed Beltane, your majesty," Raven gasped, then pulled her mask back down as if it would strip her of temptation.

It was back in the dancing circle that she spied Glynda, locked in arms with Taiyang, a prince known more for who he bedded than his bloodline. Summerborn he was, but clearly not to the Grand Seneschal's taste, for Glynda suddenly shoved him back so hard that he had to break his fall on emerald-streaked marble.

It’s okay Taiyang, you’re a good good boy. 

...he welcomed her, he welcomed everything.

There’s something so sad about the closing scene. Raven is a wildfire, her story is always of her trying and eventually failing to keep her destruction minimal. She doesn’t need a semblance of bad luck to be a harbinger of misfortune. 

[sexatoxbridge]

Could you link and explain the OBVIOUSLY gif that everyone have been posting????

Well I’m not going to link to the source since it’s from The Sun and I’m not giving them any free promotion

But it’s from an interview with Dan Wootton where he was asked about Larry and said 

I’m no body language expert but I found this interesting because one of my best friends told me that she could always tell I was lying because I’d raise my eyebrows when I lied, so when I saw Louis say this I was like lol. 

Not to say that Louis and I are one and the same, even though in many instances he does seem to be an Alternate Universe version of myself. We’re both angry smols who love Harry Styles. However, I think after watching a lot of footage of One Direction in my time this interview had a very awkward vibe. He was clearly prepared for this question and given that Larry Stylinson is such a prevalent thing not only amongst the fandom but also in the media, it isn’t like DanfuckingWootton was the first person to ever think to ask Louis about it point blank after years of silence on the matter. 

So that’s why everyone was like 

And then 

when DanfuckingWootton was shaking his fist and yelling, “This will shut the Larries up!” as if he was some cartoonish villain version of himself. I was like, “Calm down, this isn’t an episode of Scooby Doo you asshat fuck.”

Anyway, that is the origin story for OBVIOUSLY. 

Me: