#asters whole world is based around what she can do for others

[flickeringquip]

(1) You can't help but wonder if you've gotten in over your head.

Pt. 2 of this post, feat. @thedolmainblog's Aiden. DIDN'T FUCK THE TAG UP THIS TIME.

gratuitous smut below the cut.

The blindfold is silky and soft as they slide it over your eyes, smoothing their thumbs across your cheeks as you take a shaky inhale. The darkness is all-encompassing, more so than you could have anticipated, and for a few tenuous moments you struggle not to be overwhelmed. Bound and blinded, this is more control than you've ever willingly given up before, and it's hard to ignore the whispers of fear that tighten in your chest.

"Breathe."

You exhale. Their voice is a welcome balm, giving your poor understimulated yet overwhelmed senses something to focus on beyond your uncertainty.

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Avery."

"Good girl."

Aiden chuckles at your ensuing flush, and you huff at them, quietly grateful for the moment of playfulness as their hands move from your cheeks to your shoulders, sweeping down your sides just lightly enough to make you squirm a little, ticklish.

"The drug will take effect soon," Their hands settle on your hips, rubbing soft circles into your hips, "It's normal to feel hot, foggy, even a little dizzy, but let me know if you start feeling sick — the antidote is in my pocket. Understand?"

(1) You bob your head in a nod throughout their explanation — and startle when they pinch your hip, though not hard enough to even really sting.

This time.

"I want you to use your words when I tell you something, alright?"

For all that their voice is as pleasant as it always is, there is no questioning the command clear in their words.

"Yes."

"Yes. . ?"

"Yes Aiden, I understand."

"Keep that up, sweet girl," You hear them shift before their lips press against your jaw, smiling against your skin, "And you'll do just fine."

(1) Aiden, you find, is quite easy with the praise — a fact that's flustered you from the first, but is starting to really get to you right now.

Heat builds beneath your skin, your mind turning their approval around and around in your mind, something hot and tight twisting in your middle that has your thighs squeeing closer together.

Above you, Aiden laughs, the sound distinctly pleased as ther hands ghost featherlight atop your thighs.

"I want you to keep these spread nice and wide, pet, can you do that for me?"

"Yes," You'd been nodding before they'd even finished speaking, only just barely recalling what they'd said about using your words, "Ah, I mean, yes Aiden."

Even blind, you can almost feel the approval radiating off of them as they reward you with a proper kiss, leaving you more than a little short of breath by the time they pull away, lips trailing a blazing path down your throat—

"Ah!"

You jerk beneath them as they suck a bruising mark into your pulse, breath catching on a shuddery little noise as you feel them pull away.

The faint rustle of fabric is the only warning you get before silk is sliding around your neck, hyper-aware of every brush of their fingers against your throat. They tie it off in what feels like a bow, your pulse jumping beneath their touch as they admire their handiwork.

"It suits you — green does go so very well with pink."

(1) That they raise a hand to sweep their thumb across your cheek as they said that has you flushing all the rosier, knowing they weren't just talking about your hair.

Bound and blind, you only become more and more sensitive as they take their time with you, each moment just more time for the aphrodisiac to sink it's claws deeper inside of you.

Soon, even their featherlight touches are enough to have you whimpering, heat pulsing between your legs as you felt a familiar coil tighten in your middle. Their lips brush against your breast, fingers teasing along your thighs, so close yet so far from where you burn for more.

And then, after what feels like an eternity of faint, barely there grazes, their fingers swirl over your clit once, twice—

And then their touch is gone, and with it the climax you'd been so close to falling into.

The sudden denial takes you by surprise, a sharp cry tearing free as you struggle to comprehend what just happened. You strain against your bindings, disoriented and confused, still so caught up on the ever-growing blaze of pure need coursing through you.

"None of that now, darling," Aiden's voice only just pierces through the haze of your thoughts, aided by the feel of their palm running up and down your sides, the leather of their glove a balm to your frenzied senses, "Relax."

(1) And, despite the way the aphrodisiac has pure desire licking up your spine, despite how your denied pleasure only makes your need that much sharper, you obey.

You feel adrift in a veritable sea of sensation as you force your body to settle, trembling with the effort of staying still — and yet the thought of disobeying them does not even cross your mind.

How could it, when they felt like your only anchor, their presence all that kept you from drowning?

(That they were simultaneously responsible for your current predicament was ignored, second fiddle to the comfort and praise they provided.)

“Well done, Aster."

(1) You shudder, a sound perilously close to a whine catching in your throat — a sound that sharpens into a gasp as Aiden begins their teasing anew, beginning a cycle of delicious torment.

Your chest is still heaving, struggling to catch your breath against the sharp ache left behind by the denial, when you suddenly feel the bed shift and hear the soft whisper of Aiden's steps as they stroll away from the bed. It's perhaps a bit of a blessing that you're a little too far gone to panic, too distracted by feverish just to get anxious at being left like this.

(It probably helps that you know Blythe would never leave earshot with you in this state.)

It doesn't take them long at all to return, and you hear them drop a handle of things on the bed beside you as they drag a hand over your body, a line of heat following the path of their gloved palm. It lifts just before the dip between your thighs, and it's only when you slump back against the bed that you realize you'd arched up into their touch.

(1) You'd never been denied before — least of all while drugged — and you can't say you were prepared for the ravenous need that clouds your mind.

Even those thoughts scatter like light through a prism when you feel Aiden's hands beneath your thighs, spreading them a little wider as they settle comfortably between them, enjoying the way your legs quiver under their hands.

"How're we doing, pet? Having fun?" The question is coy, teasing as they ran their hands up your inner thighs, delighting in how you jolt as their thumbs brush against your dripping cunt — how even now you have the capacity to fluster as they spread your lips apart, the heat searing across your face rivalled only by the blaze winding tight in your middle, "You certainly look like you're having fun."

You open your mouth to reply — you're good, you remembered, you want to be good — only for your words to get stuck in your throat, replaced by a choked off mewl as they rub sudden, deliberate circles around your clit.

When they stop, you whine.

(1) You can feel them smirking down at you, even if you can't see it.

"What was that, Aster?" Their voice is sly, and you can feel the tips of their hair tickle against your skin as they lean forward towards you, "Were you saying something?"

And though you know a trap when you see one, what else can you do but fall into it?

"I— It's—"

Again you try, and again you fail.

The moment you start to speak, they resume their teasing — from rubbing soft circles around your clit to teasing fingers against your entrance, all of your attempts at speech crumble away the moment they start touching you. All you can think about is the need burning bright in your core, the way each teasing denial makes you that much more desperate for their touch.

The aphrodisiac has narrowed your world down to want and desire — and with every touch, Aiden narrows it further, down to pure, unrivalled need.

"Are you forgetting something, pet?" They click their tongue at you, tutting, something sly in their voice even as they sigh down at you, "And you were doing so well up until now. . ."

And even knowing they're playing with you does little to lessen the effect of their supposed disappointment, a plaintive noise tumbling free of you.

"And here I was, just about to reward you being such a good girl," They coo as you whimper, sweeping a thumb across your cheekbone - the gesture has no right to be as comforting as it is, considering how happily they'd led you into this little trap, "I suppose you'll just have to wait a little longer, hmm?"

(1) And wait you do.

As they roll you onto your stomach and discover a reaction you'll later wish they hadn't, no matter how the smack of their gloved palm against your ass has you mewling into their sheets, the line between pleasure and pain stretched gossamer thin as you fall deeper and deeper into your lust.

As they sink two fingers inside of you in the aftermath of your 'punishment'; There's something about the burn of pain that makes the pleasure all the sweeter, keening as your hips push back their fingers as they fuck you to the edge.

As they introduce you to something they strongly believe you're missing out on, all too eager to give you a practical demonstration as they tease a vibrator against your cunt and make a game of seeing just how quickly they can bring you to the edge, over and over again.

(1) You lose count of the number of times they bring you to the brink and leave you dangling there, time losing its meaning when all you can think about is the relief always hovering just out of reach, your entire world reduced to pleasure, need, and desperation.

Aiden's hands are cool against your face — damp from sweat and tears as you shake and sob through the effects of being denied once more — as they sweep their thumbs across your cheeks, lips brushing just beneath the edge of the blindfold.

It takes you far too long to realize they've removed their gloves.

"You've done so well, pet. So well. Are you ready for your reward?"

Their praise is warm honey down a sore throat, all that kept the sharp edge of need from becoming truly too much to bear — you don't notice the loosening of your blindfold until they're pulling it away, the dim light of their room all the brighter for how long you'd been blinded.

(1) You peer up at them, eyes wet and glassy, and it's fortunate they mean it this time because right now you're struggling to comprehend more than just their tone, nevermind being able to actually reply like they'd so deviously demanded earlier.

Aiden carasses your cheek and you rub against their palm like a trembling, touch-starved kitten.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing?" They croon, rewarding you with a kiss that has you melting beneath them despite the depths of your lust, mind too hazy to be anything but grateful for their affection, "Some pets get bratty and defiant when they're this needy, but not you, hmm? You're wired a little differently, aren't you?"

They drag their lips up to your ear, and you can feel their lips curve into a smile more sin than sincerity.

"If I told you I didn't want you to cum at all tonight, if keeping you all pent-up and desperate is what would please me the most," Their hands slide down your bust, your whole body jolting at the lightest pinch of their fingers, "You'd obey, wouldn't you, Aster? Even with all this need trapped inside of you, just begging to be released, you'd choose pleasing me over yourself."

And even though the thought has a perilous little cry tumbling past your lips, fresh tears blurring your vision at the thought of being made to stay like this even longer—

(1) You nod, because they're right.

You don't even hesitate.

Aiden groans in your ear before they pull back, eyes bright and cheeks flushed as they stare down at you with an undeniable hunger.

"I can't believe Blythe's been hoarding you all to himself all this time," They coo, rewarding you with another breathless kiss, "What a treat you are."

Their hands skate down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs with a single-minded purpose. Tension thrums through you, a bow strung too tightly and fit to snap as you try to brace yourself for another denial with an anxious whimper—

"You can relax, darling."

Aiden sighs the words down at you, sounding downright smitten — a tone at odds with the way they sink their fingers inside of you with a curl that makes your voice crack on a keen. Their fingers fuck into you at a pace that has you straining against your bonds, anxiety striking through you at how quickly your pleasure climbs. You would never be able to hold your own pleasure at bay, not now, not like this — but it didn't feel like they were about to stop, and the idea that you'd fail them this far in has a sob catching on your throat—

So caught up in your aroused anguish, you almost miss Aiden's words.

Almost.

"—Cum, Aster."

(1) And like that, your entire world fractures into white as you obey. You shake and squirm and scream as white-hot relief courses through you, intense enough to have yet more tears spilling down your face as you're finally, finally granted mercy.

It feels like absolution.

It feels like an eternity's past when last your senses begin to trickle back to you, a faint buzz to your senses that makes you wonder if you'd nearly passed out from the intensity. Aiden is there when you open your eyes again, a soothing smile on their face when you finally manage to open your eyes.

"That feels better, doesn't it?" Even the removal of their fingers has you quivering around them, beyond sensitive in the aftermath of such delayed gratification, "Don't worry, I know just one is hardly enough of a reward, what with how good you were for me."

You struggle to place their meaning, glassy eyes watching as they reach past you — your wrists are freed within moments, before Aiden slides out of bed with mild reluctance.

Which is confusing, considering what they'd said. What—?

Your head turned to watch as Aiden settles into the comfy armchair beside the bed, you aren't at all expecting the new hands — hot and rough and familiar — settling on your hips.

Blythe.

Your eyes meet — and you've seen the look currently on his face exactly once before.

Uh oh.

"Don't fret, love."

Black has swallowed much of the gold in his eyes as the full weight of his gaze settles on you — and it's only when the hot grind of his cock against your cunt has your whole body flinching with an overwhelmed mewl that you realize he's naked.

"I'll help you work the rest of that pesky drug out of your system in no time."

Oh God.

(1) When people had said drugs could kill you, you hadn't expect this would be the way you'd go.

[annymation]

Hi, about your wish rewrite, what would Aster’s character arc be in the film? What do they learn by the end of it?

Hi!

Aster has a similar character arc to Joy from Inside Out, learning that although being happy and optimistic is good you gotta also allow yourself to feel sad and not feel bad if you can’t make those around you happy all the time, that’s a tricky thing for him to learn since, as a wishing star, making others happy is kind of their only purpose. He learns how humanity is so complicated, more than he thought, he thought humans just wished for stuff, eventually got what they wanted and lived happily ever after, he didn’t know how much more there was to it.

But even then, Aster wants to be human, even with life’s ups and downs, even if he knows he will feel pain, he also knows he’ll feel so many joys with the one he loves, that they can achieve anything they set their minds to together, and that will make it all worth it.

Aster also deals with a lot of insecurities, with the stars doubting he can actually help Asha because he’s so young, but he believes in himself and Asha does too, so he chooses to stay by her side even with the whole night sky whispering in his ear that he can’t. By the end when they do win, Aster proved them wrong, it’s kind of a lesson on “don’t underestimate someone based on how much experience they have” or about how the new generation can make a big difference, which will kinda be another theme in my rewrite in general.

Finally another thing, after becoming human Aster wants to not only be by Asha’s side but also explore everything that there’s to see on earth, so they go on to travel together, exploring was also one of Asha’s dreams since she wants to share her art with the world.

[s0lar-ch3ri]

theory time!

so reasoning as to why i cant reblog the other one is just cause it doesnt allow videos when i reblog now which sucks but whatever so yeah! its a jrwi theory again, and whatever future info i have was 99% gathered from the wiki (the remaining one percent might not even show up in this theory so ye), and of course theres spoilers for the black rose one shot AND riptide pirates (dont have any exsct eps, all i can say is im at ep 101 now so anything before that is kinda fair game)

for the original theory post

k so we gonna put that one clip (scroll message, about a minute long) and talk about it, def mention all the connections gill would have with the black sea, shit like that

apologies for the buggy clip, just needed to add this and when i recorded i was in school aka just recorded like this for less risk, lets talk about the message though.

"a map that is a guide and a key passed around the hands of destiny, it leads to chaos infinity beneath the seas, the garden giant, the nameless prince, the unborn kings, all await to be inevitably free"

i think in my og theory post i talked on how gill was very connected to the black sea imo so how does all this tie in? lets do some quick lil notes first

ok so the scroll of legend lore has been held onto by gillion, the one closest to destiny's ties, and has not been used until now

chaos infinity while refering to the black sea could also be an undersea thing, what with the leviathins (nobody else remember how the pearl shard gillion has came from one? and how the pearl was never supposed to even see the light of day probs let alone be in some cat mans evil base? just me?)

while i wanna say aster mythborne aeiliana shes not real here so she cant be garden giant

BUT we do have a known leviathin(? could just be a dragon turtle) named duke who has plant shit and is controlled by a gollieth

nameless prince is everso chip coded but we looking all across our board here so yeah

it could apply that the "nameless prince" could refer to someone "unnamed" who holds power like that prince from edison kingdom or smth

it could also reference marshal jon, who's canon first name has been forgotten and canon last name is jon

unborn kings? honestly while i dont think chip's bit of mpreg is apart of this i think the lady inspiring it (aka aslana's mom) has some relations to this whole thing

we all read "kings" btw so theres probs multiple yall

would goobleck count? he is goobleck he must apply someway

non-literal one again? maybe their monsters or smth

wait to be free. huh. gee, i wonder, will the door nightmare with arlin come into play here. thatd be so fun. yeah. ahahaha im losing myself

okay okay maybe its not all clear and i honestly have had this as a draft for too long (as shown below)

BUT ill reblog this later cause ill really just be using text and images and shit

whats the basic idea? this is def where the oath from the sword comes into play (murdering destiny), with the whole "the black sea twists you" thing we may get hints of killion or even dark gillion again, the thign about it being a "key" might imply like a 'this means that' type deal rather then being actually a key, the chaos isnt really referring to the black sea but the state of the undersea in general (lost champion becomign criminal, ally shit gone, oversea war, etc), unnamed prince is either someone we havent met yet or someone who we dont expect to have a return (ie: were deemed before as not really lore relevant), and the unborn kings are monsters, oh and the garden giant isnt arlin but something related to the duke! THIS HAS TO CONNECT TO THE LEVIATHINS FR

some details/info about gill/things related to gill so i write this better:

"You promise to slay all evil before thee, crack corruption that takes hold of this world, strike swiftly enough to split the seas, and even if the thread of fate poses an obstacle against us, we shall sever it"

A hero born of moonlight, storm and sea. / They shall rise or fall to bring unity. / They will be tested or bested by evil’s hand. / By their choice one will remain: sea or land.

[seafriendsandmore]

Miss Scarlet ★★★★

Urisella AKA Miss Scarlet, Miss Crimson

Church Faction - The Garden

Skill Kit

Support - Rear/Middle

Rarity: ★★★★

• Always carrying a basket of flowers - she uses them as mediums to utilize her magic through

• Rose (Main) - Healing based skill - heal adjacent allies + passive: chance to enchant selected enemy when skill is used

• Begonia (sub) - Smokescreen based skill - AOE petals cover the field and have a medium chance to blind enemies for 2 turns

• Aster (sub) - Revive a team member once per round - Urisella will be unavailable for two turns after usage

• Ultimate - Tuberose (a white tuberose is presented before being promptly dyed a dark crimson, raising above the party and exploding into petals that rain down onto the field) - Heals whole party and deals minor AOE damage to enemies with a high chance to enchant them

“At what point does passion turn to obsession?”

“Oh, wouldn’t the world look so much prettier dyed red?”

”Courage and stupidity aren’t so different in the end.”

A seemingly polite and quiet motherly figure who is in reality incredibly unforgiving. She sees others like flowers, sometimes beautiful, vibrant, but fleeting. She rarely forms close bonds with others and tends to keep a polite distance but occasionally she can’t help but have a little crush here and there…. Or perhaps a little obsession?

Voice Lines

Appointed as assistant: My my, if it isn’t [placeholder]. Did you have something you wished to inquire me of?

Talk 1: Humans are fleeting like flowers… they can bloom into beautiful colors yet are so fragile and can wither at the slightest touch…

Talk 2: Red is such a wondrous color, a color so ever present that no matter how hard you try to clean, some crimson will never go away…

Talk 3: Hmhm~ what a wonderful day to walk around the garden. Would you like to accompany me?

Promotion 1: A promotion? Perhaps I can aid you in staying bloomed a bit longer…

Promotion 2: You… no, we’ve made it this far. Shall I give you a bouquet of congratulatory Amaryllises?

Talk after Promotion 1: My my, I don’t have the answer to what you seek. The Flowers know much more than me… Would you like to try asking them?

Talk after Promotion 2: In the language of Flowers, the Amaryllis celebrates success. You’ve done well to last this far. Congratulations…

Trust+ 1: A new face… are you looking to become a part of The Garden? No? Do forget I said anything…

Trust+ 2: Why is red my favorite color? I suppose I have many memories associated with it… and it has been present in every walk of my life. I’ve grown rather fond of it…

Trust+3: Though everyone calls me by Miss Scarlet, my real name is Urisella. Though I dislike being called out by those I’m not close to, I somehow do not think I will mind if you do…

Idle: With such a short life span… is there time to idle so?

Hired: A million Flowers bloomed that day. Their white petals dyed a violent red. And Red Morning ran its course.

Level up: A flower for you~

Added to squad: I shall support you from behind. There is more Flowers can do than look pretty

Appointed as squad leader: A place of authority… how unfitting for a Flower… yet I will take this place with dignity. Albeit temporarily…

Depart: Let us depart before the petals fall…

Begin operation: I hope not to see any of you wither today… I will do my best to prevent such an outcome.

Selecting character(1): I wonder if others from The Garden will be joining us? Only time shall tell…

Selecting character(2): Shall I give you a flower for your troubles? My dear… of course it matters which one!

Deploy 1: At what point does passion turn into obsession?

Deploy 2: Look to the Yarrows to protect us… they will be our shield in trying times.

In battle 1: Courage and stupidity are not so different in the end…

In battle 2: We must continue onwards… time will not wait for us.

In battle 3: Stay strong…

In battle 4: We cannot fall now…

Skill 1: A rose for you, my dear.

Skill 2: It would be in your best interest to stay away… though you cannot help yourself, can you?

Skill 3: Rise from the Flowerbed, it is not yet your time.

Ultimate: Take refuge, the Flowers will guide our path to the world at Her jurisdiction. A sanctuary where we can all rest after the last petals fade…

3-star result(challenge mode): She must be so proud, as am I.

2-star result: The Chrysanthemums have outlined our path.

1-star result: At least some have survived…

Operation failure: Not even the Path of Flowers could salvage this…

Injury 1: Mph-!

Injury 2: A bit painful…

Injury 3: Be careful now…

Death 1: I shall return to Her sooner than I’d imagined… I am afraid…

Death 2: In the end, we all return to the Flowerbed so new Flowers can bloom…

Death 3: Please continue Her legacy for me… I can no longer…

Death 4: Tend to my garden after I go… I will miss them…

Tap: Hmhm~

Trust tap: I shall give you this beautiful crimson Aster from my garden… if you are curious of its meaning, why not look around for answers? I am sure it will not disappoint…

Greetings: Hello, my dear. How can I assist you?

Skins

Poppy Slumber ★★★★ - Pajama Set

[slimy-vore-bog]

Show of Trust

NS/FW Shoo!

Guess who got a random burst of inspiration and wrote a story in half a day! Me, I did.

(the comic I've mentioned is finished btw, I just need a paper scanner... And there's one at my mom's place, I'd just need to go there to use it)

This is a rewrite of my fic titled "A Consuming Curiosity" which is almost a year old now! It will be a year old the 15th of July.

Don't have a lot to say, but this is a lot better written than the last one!

Context: This is based on a random story from when I was 16 and was a mix of size-shifters and pokémon.

Pokémon will not play a big part in this, but they are still there, because they would be more important for the whole story.

Minor but important changes from original TOH fic: No restrictions on pokémon

Note: I recently found out I'm selectively mute, and it will be briefly described, but not directly.

Also Amity is autistic, and if you argue I Will Bite You /hj

Ao3

Word Count: 3.6k

***

Luz relaxed on a firm bed at the place her and her friends were staying.  They had finally gotten to a proper resting spot after weeks of camping and hiking in the wilderness.

It wasn’t that she didn’t find it fun, she wouldn’t be out there if she didn’t, but carrying camping gear everywhere was exhausting. And as much as she liked the rain, walking in it without waterproof clothes was a terrible experience. She had a raincoat, but it didn’t help much with her shoes or pants.

She yawned lazily and felt slightly unfocused. She reached down to pet her shiny luxio, Sunny, who was relaxing next to the bed. Sunny let out a quick purr, as she enjoyed getting pets and scratches.

Luz smiled wide. “D’aww, you’re so cute!” She squirmed around in her bed to face her, nuzzling her own face into the mane of the pokémon as she hugged her. “The cutest shiny luxio in the whole world!” She kissed the pokémon’s forehead, before she continued to pet her.

There was a hesitant knock on the door a second later. “Hey, Luz… can I come in?”

Luz blushed slightly at the sound of Amity’s voice. “Oh, uh… yes! Yeah, of course!” Luz flinched; that was not a cool way to say that. She swore in her head, before she tried to pull herself together when the door opened. “What’s up?” she tried to ask casually.

Amity’s face reddened slightly, before she looked away from Luz. “Well, I was thinking… Do you want to go on a walk? Just us two?”

Luz took a deep breath to calm herself. Friends could ask each other to go on walks one on one; it didn’t have to mean anything. “Sure, that sounds great!” She got Sunny back in her poké ball, before she hopped out of bed to get ready for the walk.

¨¨

Once they were deeper out in the forest, Amity glanced at Luz unsurely. She was clearly about to say something, but she turned back around without a word.

Luz questioned the look, but didn’t ask about it. As curious as she was, if Amity didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t pry. Her friend’s privacy was more important than her own nosiness. Luz focused on something else. “Sooo…” She didn’t actually know what to say, as she looked for something to talk about. “How is Aster doing?”

Amity’s eevee was a lot like Amity. He used to put on the same tough act Amity did, but now where she was showing her soft side more; so was he.

Amity glanced back with a raised eyebrow. “He’s doing good, why do you ask?”

Luz felt slightly embarrassed. “Well, uh… I think he’s cute, and I wanted to make sure he was doing good!” Maybe that was a bad start. She couldn’t find anything else to talk about, as she instead just messed with her hoodie strings while she did her best to forget her awkward question.

She nearly jumped when Amity addressed her a minute later. “What did you say?”

Amity stood at the edge of the path, gesturing with her head for Luz to follow. It looked like someone had been that way recently. Maybe the day before or that morning. “We’re going this way…” She hesitated another second. “And… I have something important to tell you, but it has to wait until we are farther away from here.”

Luz perked up, almost letting herself ask what, before she realized that would be a dumb thing to say. At least she had stopped herself from saying something stupid for once… She followed Amity closely, as her curiosity grew.

¨¨

Amity seemed to know exactly where they were heading, and Luz was sure it was her who had left the marks of flattened vegetation and snapped twigs. “When did you go looking for this place?”

Amity tensed for a second. “Oh, uh… I went for a walk yesterday, when you were spending time with Willow and Gus.” Her voice quivered slightly, before a shiver ran through her and she began fidgeting with her hands. “Luz… How much do you trust me?”

Luz’s foot rolled on a large root. “Woah-” Amity caught her hand last second. “Thanks…” She smiled sheepishly, glancing at Amity to see if she seemed annoyed or amused. It was thankfully neither, as she only seemed to be worried. “What was the question?”

Amity shook her head, letting go of her hand. “It can wait…”

¨¨

They walked for a bit longer, when they finally arrived at a treeless patch in the forest. “Here it is…” she turned back towards Luz; Amity’s expression seemed almost pleading. “Can I take a few seconds to feel ready?”

Luz nodded firmly. “Of course.” She watched Amity walk out into the field of unkempt grass, before she turned her head up against the sky and took a deep breath.

She mimicked Amity’s behavior without thinking, as she closed her eyes and felt the sun shine down on her face. After a second, she sighed and looked around the clearing. And on a second look; it was pretty beautiful.

Not in a usual sense, but in a natural sense. Nothing about it seemed like it was made by humans for the view. It was overgrown with thistles and the grass looked like it had not even felt steel brush against it… Yet the grass had gained a reddish-brown shade, and the thistles had bloomed with pretty pinkish-purple flowers. And there were specs of color by small flowers growing in between it all.

Luz’s heart felt soft at the sight and her eyes fell on Amity. ‘This place is kind of romantic…’ Her heart thumped at the thought she had. ‘Did Amity take me out here to confess?’ She shook her head to get the thought out as fast as she could. ‘Of course not! That would be too cheesy; Amity would never find this romantic…’

Amity finally spoke up again. “Luz… I don’t want to sound dramatic about this, but it’s really hard to get out.” Luz’s eyes widened with a mix of nerves and hope. “I can’t say it…” Amity’s eyes squeezed shut, as a few tears rolled down her cheeks and Luz rushed over to her.

“Amity, you don’t have to-” she began, but her friend shook her head.

“No, no, I need to, I can’t keep it secret…” She took another deep breath. “I’m a size-shifter.”

Luz took a startled step backwards, but didn’t do anything else. Footage of size-shifters swallowing people whole and alive immediately jumped to the front of her mind and her stomach churned at the thought. Her mouth hung open with unasked questions, as she tried to process what Amity said.

Both of them stared at each other, neither finding the words to ask or explain.

Luz spoke first. “I don’t understand.” The confusion in her voice was clear. “Am I missing something?” If Amity was a size-shifter and she viewed it as a bad thing, she had to be one of the people eaters, didn’t she? Yet Luz couldn’t believe it. “You’re… not going to eat me, right?”

Amity still didn’t say anything, and Luz took another step back as she continued to stare weirdly desperately at her. She mouthed something, but nothing more than a hushed whisper came out.

Luz realized what was wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!” She knew exactly what was going on with Amity; she had been through that herself many times. “Do you want to sit down?” Amity shook her head the tiniest bit.

Luz waited patiently for Amity to calm down.

After a few minutes, Amity spoke. “Thank you…” She sat down, putting her head in her hands. “I don’t know where to begin…” She looked up at Luz, before realizing she had sat down next to her. “What do you want to know?”

Luz didn’t feel comfortable asking, but she couldn’t think of another question. “Well… The obvious, I guess…” She could at least try to be less blunt with her wording. ‘I could be sitting next to a murderer.’

Amity gave a short nod. “So… I know you’ve seen the reports, but… It’s not what it looks like-” She looked at Luz for a reaction, before continuing. “-I know it’s confusing and it’s hard to explain… I’ll try.” For a few seconds she thought it over. “I guess… it’s hard to put into words.” She looked at Luz. “Imagine… hugging someone you like as tightly as you can.”

Luz shifted uncomfortably. “Where’s this going?”

An intense blush spread across Amity’s face in embarrassment. “For size-shifters… We can swallow people safely, and that’s almost how doing that feels to us.”

It took Luz a few seconds to process, but it was as if something clicked when she did. “So you’re telling me that all this fear and hatred towards size-shifters is pointless?!” She sprung up on her feet and began to pace. “It shouldn’t matter if it’s kind of gross; it doesn’t mean you have to be treated this way!” Being judged for something you couldn’t help… That was a feeling Luz knew all too well. “You’re not even hurting anyone!”

Luz looked at Amity, seeing her shocked expression. For a second she worried she had said the wrong thing, but Amity smiled and got up to hug her tightly.

Luz felt a cold shiver run through her, despite her not wanting to be scared of Amity. If eating someone was like a hug then… Did Amity want to eat her?

Amity took a step back after Luz shivered. “What’s wrong?” She only took a second to figure it out. “Luz, it’s not the same exact feeling, it was a comparison.”

Luz let out a relieved laugh. “Oh thank Arceus! I thought it was for a moment!” She felt a bit nervous. “I don’t judge, but… I can’t really imagine I would like being eaten.” Her eyes fell on Amity’s stomach, and she suppressed the urge to shiver.

Amity seemed a little hesitant. “Uh… Would you let me hold you in my hands?”

Luz smiled awkwardly. “Only if you promise not to eat me,” she joked, though she was a little wary of her.

Amity smiled back. “I promise…” she paused, but didn’t think about whatever was on her mind long.

Luz felt a jolt of adrenaline rush through her, as she stared up at Amity. Luz shook her head to try and make sense of it, but it didn’t help much. Amity lowered her hand down, and Luz climbed up on it.

As they watched each other, Luz suddenly felt her face heating up. There was something about the look in Amity’s eyes that made her blush. She had just been looking at her, but it felt like it was a lot more than just curiosity. It was a soft and admiring look.

She felt Amity’s hand shift carefully, before she gently lifted Luz’s arm with her finger. Luz looked up at Amity, slightly confused, but she didn’t protest. Amity focused on her. “What do you think?”

Luz tried to reach for any good thoughts, but all that came to mind was… “You’re huge.”  Luz grimaced. “I mean- yeah, but uh…” she trailed off. “I like being held... at least by you.”

Amity licked her lips, before she smiled joyfully. “I like holding you too.” Her brow furrowed suddenly.

Luz didn’t take much notice of Amity licking her lips; it didn’t have to mean anything. But she was slightly concerned about her friend. “Something wrong?”

“Not… really?” replied Amity unsurely. It was clearly not the entire truth, but Luz didn’t have to prod. “It’s just… Are you… sure you don’t want to try being eaten?”

Luz got dizzy at the thought of Amity wanting to eat her. “Please don’t do that…”

Amity’s face fell into a sad frown. “I won’t…” She sighed. “I won’t do anything you’re not okay with.” Her expression turned from letdown to sincere. “I promise.”

Luz wasn’t sure what to think. It wasn’t more than the bare minimum of respect, but for some reason her tone made her feel like her feelings weren’t as one-sided. “Hey… Amity?”

“What?”

Luz felt a nervous jolt in her chest. “I…” She had to pause for a moment. “I like you… As more than a friend.”

For a second Luz panicked that Amity was going to be upset when she put her down, but she turned back to her regular height. “Luz! Are you trying to make me want to swallow you?”

Luz sat up straight. “What? How- why would I do that?!”

Amity seemed slightly defeated. “It might not be the same as a hug, but it’s still a form of affection.” She blushed slightly. “Also… I don’t know how to say it, but I like you too.”

An awkward smile stretched across Luz’s face. “Well, I could have gotten that from what you said before…” Her stomach whirled with emotions, as she looked up at Amity. “What… What exactly do we do now? I mean… I haven’t dated before.”

Amity seemed just as unsure. “We’ll… figure it out?”

Both of them stared at each other without any words.

Luz thought about what Amity had asked earlier. Maybe she could… at least look at her mouth. “So… If I just wanted to have a look at your mouth, but not be eaten, would that be okay?”

Amity’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah!” She grew back to her giant height faster than Luz thought she could have.

Luz climbed up on her hand again. “You promise you won’t eat me unless I say you can?”

“Yes, I promise.” Her tone was sure, and it calmed Luz’s worries.

Amity lifted her hand to her face, before she opened her mouth wide.

Luz felt slightly uncomfortable at the sight. “Hold on, I need to take off my belt.” She grabbed the flashlight from it, before she took it off. “I don’t want to risk you swallowing any of these things.” Amity closed her mouth briefly, as she took the toolbelt and put it somewhere she could find it.

“Anything else?” Amity tilted her head slightly, and Luz shook her head in response. “Alright.”

Luz gulped, as she watched Amity open her mouth again.  She turned on her flashlight, before shining it into Amity’s mouth. To her surprise, it didn’t scare her as much as she thought it would.

She leaned a tad into her mouth, touching her tongue gently. It was soft and warm, but obviously also wet and slimy. She tried to move her hand away, but the tongue followed and licked against her arm. She immediately got cold feet. “Never mind, stop!”

Luz felt Amity blow out a sigh, but she listened and lifted her back out. “Want to go back now?”

Luz shook her head. “No… I’m not sure.” She looked at Amity’s lips. “Can you open your mouth again?”

Amity did as Luz asked, bringing her back to it.

Luz leaned in again, but a lot farther than last time. “Don’t eat me.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, before she climbed into her mouth. “You… You can close your mouth, but don’t swallow.” Her pulse thundered in her ears, as Amity’s mouth closed around her. ‘Calm down… it’s just Amity…’ Though she didn’t get to tell Amity to spit her out.

Amity let her back out into her hands. “Luz… Please tell me if you want to back down.”

But that wasn’t what she wanted. “I don’t think I want to.” There was… something about it. “I know I can trust you.” She looked at Amity’s throat, before her eyes drifted to her stomach. “So… I’ll let you swallow me.”

Amity didn’t move. “Only if you promise to let me know if it’s too much.”

Luz nodded, but Amity didn’t do anything. “I promise I will.”

Amity lifted her up to her mouth, before she tilted her head and hand to let Luz slide onto her tongue.

Luz squirmed, and Amity paused. “I’m fine!” she reassured her, and she felt the tongue under her moving.

Amity obviously tasted her, as she lapped and pushed against Luz’s body wherever she could find a bit of exposed skin. “Wait… Do I taste good?” She was suddenly pushed towards the front of Amity’s mouth as she hummed. “Oh, now you have to tell me what I taste like later!” She was pretty sure she didn’t taste like anything other than sweat, but Amity clearly had a different experience.

After a few minutes of being rolled around by Amity’s tongue, she was soaked and in a good position to swallow. Amity licked her one more time before she waited for Luz’s decision. “You can swallow.”

Amity didn’t wait another second, as her tongue immediately squished Luz down into her throat and she gulped noisily.

Luz felt a prickle of panic, as the esophagus grabbed tightly onto her and dragged her down slowly. She took a deep breath; there was no reason to panic. And she had a feeling her last chance to back out of this whole thing was when she gave Amity permission.

She felt Amity’s tongue move again, and she resisted the instinct to try to grab onto it, before her tongue shoved her down her throat.

She heard Amity swallow again and some more saliva joined her. She could feel and hear Amity’s heart beat to her left. It was calm enough that her own pulse was slowing down from her panic.

Luz let herself get squeezed down into Amity’s belly with no protests.

Her feet slipped through the opening of the stomach and it only took a second before the rest of her followed.

She listened to Amity’s body working, finding the thumping of her heart and the sound of her breathing sleep-inducing. She couldn’t hold in a yawn.

“Luz?”

Luz perked up slightly. “What?”

Amity breathed out a sigh. “Just wanted to check on you… How does it feel to be in there?”

Luz couldn’t help the blush that spread across her face. “Oh uh… It’s really nice… and relaxing. Could I… maybe take a nap? Just a short one?”

Amity chuckled slightly. “Go ahead.”

Luz closed her eyes, falling asleep in a few minutes.

~

Amity sat still, in awe of what had happened. Luz had told her she liked her, she accepted her being a size-shifter, she was willing to let herself be eaten AND she liked it. Amity was pretty sure it had to be a dream, but the feeling of Luz sleeping in her stomach was too real. She hugged her belly tightly, feeling happier than she had maybe ever felt.

She wished she could keep her even closer, but this was as close as she could get. Luz was completely hidden away from everything, and it was all because of her body. She would keep Luz safe in whatever way she could, and nothing could keep her more hidden than having her inside her belly.

Amity gently shifted to lie down, hoping she wasn’t jostling Luz, as she stared up at the clouds.

She licked her lips, still tasting a hint of sweetness from Luz. She rested her hand over her belly, as she thought of her. The taste was hard to describe as anything other than sugary and sweet, but she liked it. Maybe something like very sweet marshmallows. Amity compared the thought with the taste in her mouth, and it seemed to fit.

‘Marshmallow…’ She tried the thought out as a possible teasing nickname, but it didn’t seem to fit Luz well. It sounded better fit for a chubby person.

She relaxed and watched the sky, until Luz woke up.

¨¨

~

Luz woke up from her short nap, slightly disoriented. She was wet and it was dark… After a minute of thought she remembered where she had fallen asleep. She stretched, not feeling much like coming out of Amity’s stomach. “Hey Amity, how long did I sleep for?”

Amity’s heartbeat sped up slightly. “Oh, uh… Maybe half an hour? Not too long, did you sleep well?”

Luz thought about it. “Kind of? It’s really soft in here, but... I didn’t sleep for long.”

“Do you want me to let you out?”

“Eh…” Luz considered it again. “Not really, but I can’t stay in here forever.”

The stomach constricted around her, as she was quickly forced back out of Amity’s body.

She slid into Amity’s hands, before she felt her tongue drag across her. “Wha- Ugh! AMITY!” she spluttered. “Gross, I was just in your stomach!”

Amity smiled sheepishly. “It wasn’t for the taste, Luz; you’re a lot slimier than before.”

Luz snorted in amusement. “And you decided licking it off was the best way to deal with it?”

Amity rolled her eyes. “If you keep being snarky, I might just eat you again,” she teased.

Luz grinned. “Oh? Is that meant to be a threat? I could use another nap.”

After they finished goofing around, Amity offered her sleeve. “Dry yourself off as much as you can.” She looked a bit unsure. “If anyone asks, just don’t tell them what happened.”

Luz nodded, and did her best at getting the slime off herself and her clothes.

When Luz couldn’t get any drier, Amity gave Luz her toolbelt and turned back to her usual height.

They looked into each other’s eyes, hesitant to speak.

“So… what did I taste like?” Amity snorted out a laugh at the unexpected question. “Extremely sweet marshmallows.”

***

And that's the end! I really hope you enjoyed, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

Thanks for reading and have a fantastic day/night! <3

[howlingday]

About Jaune ships...

I have opinions. You may not agree, but they are mine. They may change in time, but not now.

LANCASTER ( RUBY X JAUNE )

The old tried and true. I mean, what's not to like? Cute girl falls for first guy she meets at Beacon? Classic romance trope, and after reading how much Ruby loves romance stories (I consider certain parts in the manga canon), it makes sense. In fact, after Arkos sank (A moment of silence, please . . . Thank you), many moved to Lancaster, which isn't bad. Happens all the time in fandoms. Sad thing, though, is far I think she'll last. If we're talking Volume 5 or earlier, then maybe. However, I feel if Ruby were to have an endgame in romance, it would be RoseGarden (I have opinions on that as well, but today isn't the day to discuss that), mostly because Oscar bumped Jaune's role from male lead to male side. Not to mention that while Jaune is becoming a beast in his own right, Ruby is a different creature altogether and evolving her character more rapidly and chaotically than anyone else (Must be all that screentime).

TLDR: I want it to be canon, but I might just be hoping.

WHITE KNIGHT ( WEISS X JAUNE)

Doofus in tin foil meets princess who hates daddy (Am I in the romance section of the library? You know, the corner for adults only?) No, but I do like this ship. I'm always a sucker for the fantasy genre, and using a zero to hero male makes it relatable. I also kind of ship it because the same reason I ship NaruSaku in the Naruto fandom: he likes her and he's willing to go the distance. But enough about that; instead let's talk about canon. Will they hook up? It's a soft maybe for me, for two reasons. 1. Rosegarden is most likely to be endgame, and after Ruby and Pyrrha, I'd say Weiss is Jaune's next to be his love interest. 2. Weiss has warmed up to Jaune. Sure, not lover or crush level (Yet), but she's definitely changed her opinion on him. In Volume 1, Jaune was bugging her, like all the time, which I could see as him getting mixed signals on (Exhibit A: Tall, blonde, and scraggly). When Volume 5 came around, everyone jumped onboard because he saved her life (Don't lie, because I'll admit that I did it, too). Not the best reason, but still reason enough, I'd say. Then in Volume 7, she hangs out with him and Oscar to the movies (It was either that or awkward Bumbleby all night. I feel ya, sister). Nothing romantic happens, but it does show how much their relationship has developed. If Weiss is Jaune's endgame, then they have set the pieces up perfectly to do so.

TLDR: High likelihood to be canon and I'm a sucker for Knight/Princess ships.

KNIGHTSHADE ( BLAKE X JAUNE)

This is the part where I say definitely not. Not in a million years, but I'll explain why I like the ship, though. As for why it won't work, the answer is Bumbleby. They haven't kissed yet, but you know they're going to eventually (Because if they don't, the fans will attack like a swarm of hornets). But here's the question you might be asking now: why do I ship this? Well, it's part of the allure of "opposites attract" ('Cause I'm dressed like a cat!). Blake is an intelligent, outspoken, and agile ninja with a criminal history of terrorism who spends her free time reading novels. Jaune is a B at best on his tests, soft-hearted, and ground-based knight who's worst crime is fraud (Still a crime, but peanuts compared to literal terrorism) and spends his free time hanging out with his team. Day and night. But they also tried that with Sun for a season and a half and it didn't last (BECAUSE BEES).

TLDR: Not even a snowball's chance in the summer sun, but so much story potential if you do (Which I do)!

DRAGONSLAYER ( YANG X JAUNE )

This, I would say, is the opposite of Knightshade, where Jaune is the day and Blake is night, here Yang is the Sun and Jaune is the Moon (Like their crests! Remember those? Y'know, when they were relevant?) Will it work? Even less so than Knightshade. However, it does open up some interesting paths considering how... provocative Yang can be, and Jaune, compared to the other guys, is the nerdiest, geekiest dude at Beacon. It's like the cheerleader/nerd romance, except the cheerleader is the captain of every sports team... and rides a motorcycle. The Volume 8 preview introduced us to Yang and Jaune riding motorcycles and we went nuts over it. Yang was back in her element, roaring down the street, riding on walls, popping off tricks with Oscar riding- Back to what I was saying, people were asking, "How did he know how to ride a motorcycle?" and the elementary answer is "He didn't." He almost fell off his bike from a small box in the road. True, anyone would, but look at how he reacts: he stiffens, he refocuses on the road. This kid literally started riding at breakfast, and I DARE you to prove me wrong. But hey, great fic material right there, though, eh?

TLDR: Never gonna happen, but I don't care. All I care about is writing that they love each other. And they also fu-!

ARKOS ( PYRRHA X JAUNE )

I'm sorry, I need a moment. . . . Alright. Do it for her. This ship... was perfect. Probably the best ship out them all. I legit almost cry every time I think about Volume 3. Pyrrha was everyone's favorite. Her background, her interactions, her choreography, everything! But, of course, like everything in our lives, she was too good to be true. But let's honor her memory by talking about her ship, Arkos. Pyrrha was the champion of the world, the Brothers' and Oums' gift to Remnant. She could do no wrong and she HATED it. Her plight was with how she was seen. Everybody knew her! Everybody, except Jaune. And he only figured out she was "a big deal" was because Weiss had to spell it out for him! As time went on, they became the best of friends, two peas in a pod, the perfect odd couple! They worked together and trusted each other, they cared for and supported each other, they lo- No. No, I can't say it. It's been years, and it still hurts. So, I'll explain something else: the reason why Jaune SHOULD NOT be shipped right now. That reason is Pyrrha. Jaune was helpless to save her. He's suffering from survivor's guilt and he's still grieving. In Volume 4, he would sneak away and train until late at night to scroll recording of her. In Volume 5, he confronted Cinder and got Weiss almost killed because he let his grief for Pyrrha take control of him and let his emotions run wild. In Volume 6, he finds the Pyrrha statue and he... I don't know how to say this, but he let's go. He accepts that Pyrrha is gone and he's starting the healing process. He's finally ready to move forward.

TLDR: T.T I never felt that it was wise to wish too much~

MARTIAL ARCS ( REN X JAUNE)

I'll be honest, I don't really ship it. Yeah, it's cute, and it falls perfectly into the "if I had to pick a guy" part of me, but to be honest, I don't ship it. 10% because Renora and 90% it just doesn't click with me. They both just seem too soft, too quiet, too introverted. Best friends? Yes, definitely! But lovers? Eeeeeh, not really.

TLDR: I will only ship as neccessary.

NORA'S ARC ( NORA X JAUNE )

I've only just got in this deep with the fandom only recently, so I don't know if a lot of you know me. Heck, I'm probably just some RWBY fan you happen to spot as you move through your dash. However, old or new, I want to be made absolutely positively clear on this. Of all the ships here, this has got to be my-

O T FUDGIN' P

Wow! Never thought I'd feel so strongly about a crack ship like this. And yes, as sad it is to say, this is a crack ship. Renora was planned from day one, so it can't be helped. At least it didn't blast me in the face all of the sudden (OH NO, NOT THE BEES! AAAAARGH! THEY'RE IN MY EYES!). But why this ship? Well, for one thing, it's that whole opposites attract thing with Nora as the bubbly, outspoken, airhead powerhouse and Jaune as the soft spoken, introverted, nerd tactician. But wait, there's more to this trope, because it can go deeper: Order VS Chaos! Who makes all the messes? Who cleans up those messes? Who follows all the rules? Who makes their own doors? It's just. So. Damn! GOOD! One sad thing about this ship though is that it's not only not canon because of Renora, it's anti-canon because Renora. Every fan fic of Nora's Arc requires an explanation for Ren and Nora to not be together-together, like you have to write a formal apology to the FNDM for liking something that's different from what is canon or commonly accepted. If that's the case, then I'll be the anarchist here!

TLDR: I LOVE IT! What's that? Not canon? Who gives a damn?! I just explained why Jaune won't be shipped anyways! Now, if you'll excuse, I have some fan fics to find.

ARCFALL ( CINDER X JAUNE )

Oh, here it goes! Now, if we're talking ships that'll never happen, this is where we find better reasons than "it's not canon" and "character development". No, this... This is a declaration of war. Allow me to explain. Cinder Fall is evil. Like, down to her core. She wants power and she'll cut through anyone to get to it. Including Pyrrha. This woman sank Arkos by means other than "X and Y kissed, so..." She killed X, leaving Y alone. And her interactions with Jaune tell me she wouldn't even be worth a hate-bang. But, as Momma always, there's a thin line between love and hate. This is where the appeal comes in. Cinder is evil with no past, which leaves the previous chapter's of her life story blank to be filled in. Jaune is good with a troublesome, albeit easy past, but untapped potential for more. It's another opposites attract, but different from INTRO VS EXTRO and CHAOS VS ORDER; this is GOOD VS EVIL. Who will win this battle of wills; will our hero purify the tainted heart, or will he slip deeper into darkness, never to return to the light?

TLDR: Should be a NOTP, and yet the allure pulls me in.

What do y'all think? Do you agree? Let me know!

[winxlava]

Where Fate: the Winx saga fails

As a winx fan of 14 years (in and out), this fate thing is really scandolous. I’ve seen lots of ups and downs the winx fandom. As I’ve watched all of the development that fate had, I've had some thoughts, but I’ve waited until I watched everything.

This is going to be a reaction to all 6 episodes of Fate the Winx saga. This is coming from a fan of the og show so expect lots of comparisons.

If this bothers you, please don't keep reading. A lot of this is only my opinion. If you like it and think its great, that’s good! I’m not here to ruin it.

There is a list of what I liked most near the bottom of this post. Spoilers Ahead!!

Anyway, back to the post.

What made the Winx work

Lets start with the basic idea of Winx. Bloom, a normal girl, finds out that she has magic powers and is from another dimension. Seems like a simple concept? Well, Seasons 1-3 (and 4?) expanded this idea to the max.

Likeable characters galore and lots of fun, fashion, and magic.

For a lot of us that’s what sold the show. 

So lets talk about tone and why its so important 

The idea that teenage girls were exploring a world we could never see or experience. And the darkness that came with it.

Remember when Daphne, bloom’s dead sister, clung to life to help bloom figure her life out? When bloom became evil and nearly killed all of her friends? When Flora drowned to save her sister, only to get enchantix? (Actually all of enchantix was like this). When Musa gave up seeing her dead mom to save the world? When nabu died?

The show was full of these small, intense, dark moments. That’s what made winx special. The light came with dark.

By making the show dark and “eDgy” it takes away the impact of the dark moments. I’ve been saying this since the beginning. 

Point of view and how Stella is affected 

Stella was very misunderstood in the remake and it shows. The thing is, Stella was the first entry point into the magical world in the original show. She carried Bloom and her parents to Alfea. She was the transfer point to a whole world for the audience.

Her spunk and optimism and snark made her a fan favorite, but that’s not what made her character work.

She was Bloom’s first friend, and because of the that, we saw her in a good lens. She was reckless, but a pure heart nonetheless. She was confident, cunning, and powerful. 

It was because we saw the good in her first that made us like her. She was good before she was bad in our eyes.

The remake takes all of that away. She’s just a generic mean rich girl now. To be honest, Stella is accurate, but the way she was introduced put her in a whole new light. In this version, she is annoying and trifling, seemingly taking the place of Diaspro in her liking for sky.

Also she hates her mother? Stella would never! She loved both of her parents dearly and was mad simply because she felt they never loved her as a result of their divorce; they never talked to each other and she felt split between the two of them. (See Stella’s nightmares sequence season 1 :https://youtu.be/wuvyw0OHA6A?t=129). She was lonely and her father, though he loved her, spoiled her with gifts instead of the love she desired. 

You see this side of her when Chimera comes in and tries to take her place in season 3. Her worth is tied to what she has and looks like. Her title as a princess rules her.

Not only that, Stella learns about “commoners” through her friends. She was spoiled and never saw people who couldn’t afford things; it was new and she was a bit rude about it, but can you blame her, she was always put above everything else in her home country.

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgzCfOQ696rvwa51Z_J4AaABCQ?lc=UgzCDSxfcNaP9XogBSB4AaABAg

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgzCfOQ696rvwa51Z_J4AaABCQ?lc=Ugxl_sOsUSGBXEwagxJ4AaABAg

^^ These are comments of people saying similar things.

Stella also vents to Sky a lot in the remake. She seems like she is chasing him pitifully, something og Stella would never do.

Edit: Check the “liked” section; she has been upgraded to sort of like in episodes 5 and 6.

Aisha

They did Aisha dirty as well. (Just like Bonnie from Vampire Diaries, why am I surprised?) I would write a lot here, but someone else summarized it well:

https://rainbow-whitewashing-jar.tumblr.com/post/639787632624369664/its-just-there-is-so-much-background-on-aisha.

https://www.youtube.com/post/Ugx4WL5rIPTS1suGOed4AaABCQ

Tldr: Aisha was a very lonely princess of Andros. She only had one friend growing up but then they moved away and she was lonely all over again. She copes with her princess duties by being great at sports and even beating some of the men! She stood up to her parents when they wanted her to be arranged married, until she fell in love with Nabu HERSELF. She decided her own future from that point on.

Also, her relevance to the plot has been dwindled to being Bloom's right hand man; the black best friend sterotype! What a let down for one of the PRINCESSES of the original!

She had her own goals, drive, and motivations in the original! She did things for all of her friends; she definitely wasn't only driven by one person!

And she was closer to Musa than Bloom that's for sure!

Bloom

The fact that bloom transforms before everyone else gives bad vibes, considering that one of the reasons she was insecure about magic was because everyone of her friends was better than her and could transform. Why would she feel insecure when they are all around the same level?

The theme of sisterhood

Ever notice that none of the girls had the same taste in guys?

Bloom liked goody guys like Sky and Andy. Stella liked guys who were fun and flirty like Brandon.

In fact, none of the girls ever fought over a guy, they fought over things that actually mattered like someone being rude or a mission gone wrong.

That's what made them relatable. They weren't petty about guys and they mostly respected each other's relationships.

https://www.youtube.com/post/Ugz6TEOmGRV2Cfqy12F4AaABCQ?lc=UgwhLsToVbhLDYpFphB4AaABAg

^^ Look at highlighted comment

Not only that, but the winx represented a positive sisterhood. They stood by each other and respected each other; they never let men come between them and shared their power with each other.

Only the trix, the bad sisterhood, fought over men and power. The trix were foils to the winx and what they stood for! That's what made them some of the best villains in the series!

Instead of that, we get useless relationship drama! 😒

And that brings me to...

Stella/Sky/Bloom & Riven/Dane/Terra

What was the point of Dane? I'm still asking myself that question. He doesn't really do anything except act as relationship fuel for a love triangle.

Don't get me wrong, the representation is needed. But he adds nothing to the real plot at all except that Terra thinks he likes her, and he has a crush on Riven.

In terms of the Stella and Bloom love triangle with Sky, apparently she BLINDED someone because they flirted with sky. What?!? Stella isn't that cruel at all. The show clearly flanderized her to a cruel mean girl so....

Edit: Check the “liked” section; she has been upgraded to sort of like in episodes 5 and 6.

Lets not forget about “diversity”

Male fairies did exist before Fate:

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgziTWMf44kv0fkDt8x4AaABCQ

https://www.youtube.com/post/UgxWAFZRmqt_k3iBMhZ4AaABCQ

Flora/Terra, Musa, and Whitewashing

Terra and Musa are wonderful! Their actress' do a great job; their personalities are so similar to the original (except for musa's mind abilities and Terra's talkative personality)! Whenever one of them interacts with the other main cast, you feel actual friendship chemistry between them!!

But there is an elephant in the room: the whitewashing. If these characters were the correct race, they wouldn't be in this critical review.

Terra isn't flora, but her character was clearly based on her! Also, she has a cousin named Flora, so Flora is clearly in this universe.

??

Why change her race and swap her out! The personalities are spot on, which makes it even more disheartening to know that they would rather replace two POC characters with white characters who essentially are the same people and have the same plot importance.

What a shame and low blow that is! Especially since I am a black woman myself!

Sky and Riven

Them being bros make no sense really. Before they were more like enemies who were forced to work together.

Why are they friends?? What's the backstory?

Other than that, sky is pretty spot on. He's the pretty boy with good intentions. Not interesting but not very boring either.

Riven is cringy like I feared. He was also sort of cringe in the og but because of the darker setting in the remake he just feels even more so.

Other Criticisms:

- we gets some pretty cringy dialogue (mostly from riven). Some of the clingy dialogue (not from riven) ironically could have worked in a lighter setting and become "campy".

- The fact that there are no wings for 5 whole episodes, just makes the entire thing feel like Witches or something...

- why does everyone have the dead parent trope??

- no tecna

Things I do like:

- bloom missing her parents and feeling left out

- Musa and Sam before Musa and Riven (hopefully)

- Terra in general

- Terra’s dad and brother

- Musa in general

- Stella funny quips

- the scenery is gorgeous

- Stella's clothes are so fashionable! She has great outfits!

- Sky and Bloom taking during the party and/or being friendly with each other

- the magic cgi looks good 👍

- the rooms of the girls dorms and the castle looks great on the inside

- Aisha's personality

- Farrah Dowling is good as well

- Bloom is pretty spot on

- Stella's mom's powers are awesome

- imagine the genocide plot but with the happy fun show vibe and with the trix. The trix want to get revenge on faragonda for killing their cult, who wanted to revive the ancestral witches or something💥💥💥

- Stella in episodes 5 and 6 is cool

- the inclusion of the witches of aster dell (Beatrix said she was born there = witch)

- the inclusion of musa’s mother’s death

-Her transformation was lackluster to me, but I appreciated the effort to include it.

Conclusion

The pacing was all over the place to me; it felt like some episodes lasted forever and all of them seemed to have the vague theme of : be careful who you trust.

By trying to separate the winx from the og and have them have "their own lives" (which they already had), they ruined the intriguing backstories the characters already had in the og. Some were somewhat kept, but others were kind of left in the dust *cough*Aisha*cough*.

They took away with made them special: the teamwork, love, and friendship that brought them together and made them stronger. *They try it in episodes 5 and 6, but to me it just falls sort of flat.*

That said it isn't completely bad, it's mediocre at best, but it isn't Winx and that's that.

Edit: I know that it’s not supposed to be winx per say, but it has characters from the og and even the “winx” name in the title!

Credits: WCD channel on youtube, rainbow whitewashing jar on tumblr, and Youtube videos by the official winx club youtube channel.

[magicianapprenticelyra]

Counting the Days

[Finding Space and Time] | [Counting the Days]

Timeline: Muriel's Route; The Moon/The Sun

[Featuring @vesuvianoak‘s fan apprentice Ąžuolas]

Asra staggering back to the camp was not what Bảo and his family had wanted to see.

“Asra!” Bảo drops everything, rushing on toward the young one.

His face becomes etched with worry: the original party of three is down to one . . . plus Doctor Devorak. The latter follows closely behind the young magician, trying to get Asra to go steady on his feet.

“Asra?” Bảo repeats, placing his hands over Asra’s shoulders. “Asra, where—?”

“Ah, Mr. Nguyen,” the doctor murmurs, placing a firm hand on Bảo’s shoulder, “I would recommend that you, uh, give him some space at the mo—”

“Where are they?!” Bảo pleads. He shakes Asra a bit, trying to get the magician to talk to him, to look at him—

Unfortunately, the young magician’s purple-pink eyes are wide and blank: the poster child of shell shock.

“Bảo—” James’s voice cuts into his inquisition from a distance. He’s quickly moving to get to them, but Walt gets to the trio first.

“Hon, c’mon,” Walt gently pries his hands off of Asra. She nods at Julian as he leads Asra away, a protective arm around the latter’s shoulders.

By then, James has caught up with his partners, quickly ushering them away. Already, there was talk, talk of concern, worry, and dread of what this meant to the resistance against Lucio.

As Walt, James, and Bảo make their way back to their tent, the shortest of them keeps looking up at the sky, a sky that looks too bright, too nice of a blue . . .

How fucking cruel.

Whispered over and over, Bảo mourns, “Ở đâu? Ở đâu, con?”

Where? Where are you?

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The war council that night is joined by what currently remains of the Aster-Nguyen family. Walt and Bảo are understandably quiet; James is pacing back and forth along the length of their side of the table; Neha, on the other hand, is livid.

“Why the hell am I the last one to know?!” Neha demands vehemently. “She’s my sister! We just got her back—!”

“Nene—” Bảo gets cut off with an aggravated snarl from her.

“Why did you have Ly and Muriel be the ones to go?! There are a lot of other people that could’ve gone in their place!” Neha snarls, her gaze hard and pointed at the Countess. “There are more experienced soldiers in the camp—I know this because—”

“Neha, stop—!” James shakes his head, but it’s no use.

“Who the hell do you think you are!?” Neha demands, slamming her hands onto the table. Tears flood her eyes; as they drip down her cheeks, she yells through gritted teeth, “They’ve already done so much for you! Are their lives that expenda—”

“Neha!” Walt snaps, “Stop it! Don’t talk to the Countess that way!”

“But Mom—”

“No! Enough is enough,” Walt sighs, shaking her head. She looks to James, who nods in return.

Wordlessly, James pulls his daughter away from the war council. Neha fights him the whole way, but James ultimately bundles her under his arms and walks off into the night. Before long, all that could be heard of Neha are her distraught, furious sobs.

The silence around the table is incredibly awkward. The Consul breaks it with: “ . . . well, that was dramatic.” He sips the last remnants of his wine, shaking his head.

For a moment, Nadia is at a loss for words. Her gaze is turned to Walterine and Bảo in sincere apology.

“There are not enough words for me to say how deeply sorry I am that you and your family are going through this,” she says.

“They, ahem . . . they wouldn’t want you to feel bad, Countess,” Walt reassures, though her voice warbles a bit.

“They’re not dead,” Bảo retorts, sighing. He rubs his eyes, tears having already made tracks on his face. “We just need to wait . . .”

“If there is absolutely anything you need,” Nadia replies, “please do not hesitate to seek me out. You know where to find me.”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

After the first three days of Lyra and Muriel being missing, the Aster-Nguyen family are a wreck. The people around are kind enough to cover their shifts with cooking rotations, patrols, and even tidying around their campsite.

One of them, Ąžuolas, is a dear family friend. A frequent customer, the young man has seen Lyra around the Shop before and after the Red Plague. As of right now, Ąžuolas is among the camp that believes that Ly and Muriel will return. However, his firm belief in them didn’t belay his worries. From what he heard the pair were facing the Pontifex . . . defeating them would not have been easy. Still, he visits the Aster-Nguyen family daily, checking in with them and helping them out wherever needed,

It’s also during this time that Neha became rather sedentary. She did not go and see any of her friends; they came to her instead. With permission from her parents, they had sleepovers around their tent.

For hours at a time, Bảo wandered around the forest. He would come back in an hour or two, but he has this vacant stare in his eyes that sent chills down everyone’s spines. James had to nudge him more often than not to eat.

Asra wasn’t any better: he was usually travelling the realms of the Arcana with Walt to search for their loved ones. They did not have any luck, and it got to the point where Walt actually invited him and Julian to stay a while around her family’s campsite.

“We’ll find them sooner or later,” is her hopeful remark during one dinner.

Asra and Julian look at her with matching expressions of inscrutableness. She falls silent there, quietly returning to her food.

“The point still stands.”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

The fifth day is when Walt, James and Bảo return to low levels of returning to their assigned duties. Neha was exempt, and she makes a habit of traipsing off into the woods.

It’s Asra who finds Neha out there this time.

It’s not too far away from the edges of Tent-Vesuvia; the magician had been intending to nap at the base of a certain tree, but Neha was already there.

Upon seeing him, Neha says flatly, “You can lie down or sit down or whatever . . .”

Accepting her invitation, Asra spreads out the blanket he has in hand, lying down on it. Settling on it with Faust coiling up on his chest, he places his hat over his eyes, hoping to sleep.

“. . . do you think they ran away?”

Lifting his hat off, propped on his elbows—and hat in hand—Asra raises an eyebrow at her. “How do you mean?”

“That they ran away from all this . . . crazy,” Neha gestures vaguely to the surrounding area.

“I don’t believe so,” Asra replies.

“How can you be sure?”

“For one: I know Lyra wouldn’t intentionally leave the family she was getting to know again,” he explains, sitting up fully now. “Muriel too.”

Neha’s expression screams I doubt it, but she only shrugs. Asra follows her line of sight, seeing the camp getting prepared for what seemed inevitable: lines were drawn into the dirt and a clash between their side to Lucio’s growing army of mercenaries would happen in weeks, if not days from now.

Children, those unable to fight, and the elderly were to stay in a cave until the fighting was over. Nadia wasn’t going to let anyone be stolen away to be a war prize for any of the enemy.

“I want to fight,” Neha exhales, drawing her knees to settle under her chin. “I’ll sneak away if I have to.”

“You’ll get into more trouble.”

“Do you think I care at this point?”

Asra frowns. “Even if you don’t, your parents will. Lyra will.”

Neha scoffs, but she concedes to that point. “She’s got enough trouble in her head with all this . . . if I add to it again she’s gonna get sick with worry.”

“Mhm,” he nods, then goes right back to sleep.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

“For the love of the gods, Bảo!” James exclaims. He had just witnessed his husband leap over the six foot wide, six foot long, nine foot deep hole of a trap he and several other people had just finished digging. “You could hurt yourself!”

“Well, it still easy to cross!” Bảo retorts, leaning over the edge of it to stare into the abyss.

James swears under his breath, pulling him back to safety. “You break a bone it won’t heal as well! You’re not that young anymore!”

Bảo gasps, absolutely offended. "Hey! I'm not that old!"

"Says the man with gray hair!"

Bảo sticks his tongue out at his husband, but then breaks into laughter with him. James has a point: he was no spring chicken.

Double checking their map, the group’s cartographer makes note of where this trap is. Upon finishing, they all head back to Tent-Vesuvia.

Everyone was ready for the battle ahead: Bảo was going to be stationed in the trees with some other fellows, pelting things at the enemy; Walt would be with the group where the children and elderly would be hidden away, maintaining the shields and protection spells around her charges; James was going to be among the foot soldiers, which to no end worried everyone in his family.

“Are you sure you want to be on the ground when it happen?” Bảo murmurs softly. “You could stay with me or something . . . fight them from there.”

“The only reason you’re in th’ trees is because of your height and th’ fact yer lungs are givin’ ye trouble again,” James reminds him.

“Mm,” his husband nods, shaking his head. “You don’t need to be given a boost from the top of the ladder!”

“No I do not,” James replies, laughing softly. He dips down, placing a kiss on Bảo’s cheek.

“I’ll make sure you’re up there before I get to my post.”

In turn, Bảo gains a pink tint to his cheeks. He pulls James’s arm to wrap around his waist, keeping him closer as they walk together.

O*O*O

When they’re back in Tent-Vesuvia, there’s a loud racket occurring toward the center of it. James pauses, going on his tip-toes to see that a large crowd has gathered around Muriel’s hut.

“What in the world . . .?” James murmurs, startling a bit when he can hear his wife and daughter shouting in pure elation.

“Someone get the Countess!” one of their neighbors shouts.

Bảo and James look at each other, eyes wide before scrambling onward. People got out of the pair’s way. As the pair pass people by, they hear snatches of voices, relieved and awed.

“They’re back!”

“CANDANCE, DID YOU HEAR—!?”

“Oh thank the stars, they’re okay—!”

“LYRA!!!” Bảo cries out, bursting through the circle of people to pull his niece into a great big hug.

As James catches up with Bảo, the latter is hugging the stuffing out of Ly. The shorter man is soon twirling his niece in circles, sobbing and laughing with her. Before long, Bảo sets her back down. James joins in on the group hug with Neha and Walt, a great big weight drawn off his shoulders.

She was back! She was back and safe—

“C’mere you two!” Walt beckons, waving for Asra and Muriel to come over.

“But we’re not—” Muriel’s cut off by Walt grabbing his sleeve and pulling him into the hug. Asra joins in, with Faust encircling all of them in the seven people-strong hug.

“Can you please stop fucking disappearing!?” Neha pleads with Lyra once everyone lets each other go. The younger one holds onto her elder sister tightly, with Lyra returning the hug in kind.

Before Lyra can answer, Nadia enters the scene. The sight of Muriel and Lyra safe and sound brings a smile to her face.

Everyone parts ways as she approaches, and Lyra respectfully dips her head in greeting.

“You’re here,” Nadia exhales in relief.

Cheers, hurrahs, and delighted laughter light the crowd as Nadia pulls both Muriel and Lyra into a hug.

“Perhaps it is cruel of me, to keep sending you into danger . . . yet you always come back . . .” As Nadia steps back, she wipes away a tear, which makes Lyra fret a little.

“Oh Nadi—” Lyra soothes, pulling a handkerchief out of a pocket to give to her.

“Thank you,” Nadia sniffles, wiping away the rest of her tears. “Next time, I will be right beside you. I promise.”

Neha has a doubtful expression at that. She gets nudged by her mother, and gets a look from her father.

Reluctantly, they move away as Lyra and Muriel are whisked back into the hut with Asra and Nadia. Doubtless it’s to catch them up for the battle ahead.

“C’mon,” Walt urges her family, arms around the shoulders of her husbands as Neha leads the way. “Let’s do one final check of our stations and off to bed!”

[NEXT]; Updated July 26th, 2021

[crypdoezoology]

Not to keep going on this whole ari aster thing but. Clearly he's a very talented film maker in some ways but hereditary and midsommar both remind me of, like, the saw movies in that they rely on things that are upsetting or unpleasant to watch—its never scary or even really tense so much as its just really sad or gross, which is not what I personally look for in a horror movie.

Also yeah ari aster really does just seem to think that people with visible disabilities and mental illnesses are scary which is not great, tho that is a problem with horror in general

i can’t stress enough that i’m not anti-gore, i love gore in horror movies! it can be so fun and neat to look at. honestly the gore is probably the best part of his movies IMO 🤷 but the gore never hits the right way because i’m so pissed off about everything else that happening, and it’s always framed in the wrong way.  for example when the mom saws her head off in hereditary.  she’s basically the main character and the actress was working her ass off in that role, all the main emotional turmoil is happening around her (that being said i do hate this character, and i think it was the wrong choice to have so much of the focus on her) there was so much build up around her, but THEN when she dies it’s just a few seconds of a brutal and disgusting image and then bam gone. there’s no showing the final moments before her demise or why or how she came to meet this end. there’s not understanding of WHY we’re seeing what we’re seeing other than for some fucking reason the plot demands her head comes off. her death could have been used to explain some of the cult’s plan, or to give more context to the plot, or just to flesh out the character a little more by showing how she felt before dying, but none of that was taken advantage of. her death ultimately to me, only feels disrespectful, both to the character and honestly the actress a little.�� now contrast that w/ a probably equally disgusting and gory scene from the movie The Nest where one of the main characters watches her father turn into a revolting cockroach beast. this transformation was foreshadowed by the previous scene of another set of characters watching a cat transform into a cockroach beast as well, they had no way to communicate to their friend that this might happen after her father died, which gives us some dramatic irony tension because now WE know it might happen, and when we see the father approaching his daughter for a second you think well maybe he survived, and then the transformation begins. and it MAKES SENSE. it was built up extremely well, the previous tension matches the gore of the scene (which was beautifully constructed w/ practical effects to go right for all the right disgusting looks) the transformation sequence ALSO sets a new level for how high the stakes are for this movie! people aren’t just facing a painful death, they’re facing a painful sort of reanimation, progressing the species of cockroach to new highs the world is truly at right of ending and now we truly understand that. 

at least in saw the gore is the point, it’s relies on gore to make you as uncomfortable as possible and that’s the main horror center of the film. ari aster movies are based around interpersonal horror and social horror but he doesn’t seem to know who to make that shit pay off to he slaps some gore in there to cover up the failings of the plot and dialogue.  at least that’s how it comes off 🤷

[abalonetea]

Short Story - Aster Flowers

a short story written for @quilloftheclouds who wanted to see something about aster flowers! cross posted from patreon!

want custom short stories? consider checking me out at patreon.com/abalonetea!

Patience.

 Love of Variety.

Elegance.

 Daintiness.  

Afterthought.   They say that the aster flower is these things and more, the epitome of the best collection, the base of what a kingdom needs.   Except they look for those things in the queen, the princesses, the court of ma’ams and madam’s that drift through the halls of the castle. They look for the aster flower in the upper-crust, focusing on dainty, on elegance, on those two things and those two things alone.   They forget that patience is not always the ability to sit for hours on end, without speaking or moving. They forget that love of variety is not just a need to travel, an urge to collect endless paintings, and jewelry, and other oddities.   And they forget, always, of the last one.   Fitting, isn’t it?

Purple.   Pink. White.   Red. Celeste.   Hazy. Puff.   A field of aster flowers, stretching out, bleeding into the sunset horizon.   Mary asks, “do you ever think about what’s out there?”   “Sure,” says Aster, as she does near every evening. “I think about it a lot. Reckon that there’s a whole ‘nother world on the other side of that forest.”   “I want to see it. More than anything else.” Mary rolls onto her side, back towards the old crooked barn, with it’s peeling paint and empty stalls. “Do you think I’ll make it there someday?”   “Reckon if that’s what ya wanna do. Can’t rightly say there’s anything that’ll stop ya from doing it,” says Aster, even though they both know that’s not true, even though they both know that there’s a lot to stop Mary from leaving, or Aster from leaving, and all that they can do is wait and hope that something will change.   Things have to get better, right?

Spring.   Summer. Autumn.   Winter. Tomatoes.   Wheat. Pumpkins.   Squash. The crops cycle in and out of season, each field another plane of of existence. Aster walks through them, her basket on one arm, always mindful of the journey’s rules. Take only what’s needed for you and yours. Leave enough for all the rest. Bow to the gazelle should they cross your path and be mindful of the strawberries teeth as you pluck them from the vine.   Servants of the great lords and ladies o the high castle pass Aster by, and others like her, children of the poor, daughters and sons of the aster fields. All are mindful not to look too long, lest the reflection change. All know better than to speak, lest they lose their voice.   Aster picks from every season, careful to leave from the same field she existed. It wouldn’t do to lose another half-a-year.

Ribbons.   Feathers Wolf teeth.   Glass beads. Lace shawls.   Mary laughs as they dress themselves up, donning all that they own, the lace and the furs, the tartan and the flannel, their good winter boots and wreaths of sunflower crowns. In the highlands, the castle hosts a grand ball, celebrating the flowers that give their home its magic, and celebrating themselves, the living embodiment's of flowers, with their petal hair and leaf-lined skin.   But it’s here in the meadows where the magic happen, and the girls rush outside, an amalgam of creation, elegant in their own making as they dip their skirts to the fae, and the creatures that crawl from the field at the moon’s strongest light.   Aster takes the hand of a creature crafted from silver, and lets it spin her around the flowers, leaving naught but laughter in their wake.

Mice.   Blood. Berries.   Metal. Sunlight.   Aster cups it in her hand, watching the butterfly wings struggle feebly. It’s rare to see a mouse out in these parts. They seldom leave the aster fields. And this is why, of course, because the local teenagers, the ones too bittered by the rules and boundaries, take out their rage and sorrow on the small things. The things with no teeth that cannot bite back.   It takes a steady hand to pull the iron nail from the mouse’s paw. It takes a dainty hand to treat the thing afterwards. For all that the mouse is the size of a rabbit, it’s skittish and shy and gossamer frail, and Aster takes it home with her, and gives it her bed, and Mary fetches it berries from the pantry, and they tend it, the two of them, long into the night, and longer still into the next.   And when the mouse leaves, finally, they escort it back to the aster fields, and a flutter of mice run through the flowers, their great butterfly wings softly parting the plants like a shark parts the sea.

Snow.   Ice. Cold.   Hunger. Dark.   Winter brings a vast emptiness to the land, as the stars blink out, as the snow comes down, and the fields close up, and the magic is stolen from those who need it most, and used in the highlands, where the castles are, and the lords and ladies, the queens and princesses, who take the meaning of aster and apply it to themselves.   But down in the fields where the flowers really bloom, the cold seeps into Aster’s veins. She curls up closer with Mary, who is shivering and sick and longing for a land they will never see, and she weaves a story about what might lay on the other side of the trees, and the sun does not rise the following day, just as it will not rise until the first day of spring, it’s heat and light plucked from the sky to fuel fires for the queen’s.    They are but afterthoughts in a greater existence, tossed aside, left to live and fight and die and mourn on their own. And in the darkened hours of mid-winter’s quiet longing, Aster finds within her, for the first time, a want for that to change.

Fire.  Thorns. Teeth.   Bugs. Aster takes to the higher lands, with their castles and maidens, with their lords and ladies, for they have sown but never reaped, and they have taken on the elegance, and they have taken on the daintiness, and they have left the daughters and sons of the fields upon which their riches are built to fester like weeds, to rot like spoiled fruit, to live and long and die and mourn by themselves in the harshness of the endless winter night.   And those which have no teeth remember who offered them kindness, and they might not have teeth themselves but they have friends that do. Aster walks up the winding path to the higher lands, and a snarling pack of wolves with hawk wings and fox hearts walk beside her, for their pelts hang on the castle walls, and their feathers adorn the hair of the flower born queens.   There are many meanings to an aster flower, and most of them often lay forgotten. But tonight, on the last eve of winter, to the tunes of the sobbing stolen sun, Aster reminds the world what her roots mean. And tomorrow, when the first glint of sunlight once more touches the land, she will walk through the woods without fear, and she will see what lays on the other side.

[liquidstar]

My old one is a bit sloppy so I revised the loredump for the world my OC’s live in, it’s a bit long but it’s nice to have for reference, and if anyone wants to give it a little skim I’m putting it under the cut here!

In the beginning of this world, there were two “Gods” so to speak. They were two halves of a whole person, opposites that balance each other out. Iris, the Mother of Magic, and Crocus, the Father of Monsters. While Iris was calm and mature, Crocus had the personality of a petulant child on an awful tantrum who doesn't know when to stop. He had seen everything as a twisted sort of game, creating monsters was something he’d do for fun, in the most sadistic way possible. He viewed himself as above everything, all these creations were insignificant entertainment to him.

Iris didn’t see the world the same way, she saw beauty in life, it was a gift. Humans were her most precious creation, she adored the lives they lived. They were so short yet so sincere, so unique, so… Human. She envied and admired their ability to “grow up” more than anything. But the monsters her brother has created threatened their existence, almost as if he was making them for that exact reason. Maybe at first, creation was just a fun thing she and her “brother” did in their pastime, but now she can see it’s more than that, and she didn’t approve of Crocus’ demented method of playtime.

Iris retaliated, and of course Crocus didn’t respond well, he reacted like an angry toddler knocking over their sibling’s Lego castle, it was all toys to him. To Iris it was serious, but he failed to see that. Slowly he’d slip further down the rabbit hole, to the point of wanting to destroy the world they had created together. Crocus had become a monster himself. Iris had realized she could no longer see him as her playmate, her last resort was to banish him to a pocket dimension. But she could never kill him.

After banishing Crocus,Iris had realized that humans needed a way to protect themselves against her “brother’s” monsters, and she gave them the gift of magic, but at a cost. The magic they’d received was actually a fragment of her powers, and Iris would only retain her immortality. In order to help the humans better understand magic and how to use it, she opened a school to be wizards, to fight monsters, to fend for themselves, and maybe to do what she couldn’t do and kill her brother, if he were to ever return.

After the banishment of Crocus, and birth of magic, humans had become united and the world was a single country, Anthea. The first queen was Queen Anne, who had risen to royalty as the first person born with magic, people declared her a Godsend from Iris herself, she was raised to rule and thus the lineage of heirs would continue, each using the royal magic; Light Magic. Queen Anne would split the country into pieces, as governing the whole world was too grand of a task. Now it would be multiple people, each governing different parts that form a greater whole, with the current monarch at the helm. Each piece would go to knights of hers that she had selected, and the type of magic they used would become the noble type taught each lineage of heirs. (Read more about each different province here)

The current heiress to the throne is Amaryllis, whose mother, Queen Ambrosia, had passed on when she was a toddler. Her husband, King Angrec, is now the sitting monarch. However their marriage was arranged, and if you believe the rumors, Queen Ambrosia was having an affair with her personal Knight, Aster. Aster is also the the magic tutor of Princess Amaryllis, who is studying light magic.

There’s plenty of types magic though, for all sorts of things. There’s earth, fire, stretching, gravity, healing, death, plants, animals, clairvoyance, music, space, time... Anything! Wizards invent all types of new techniques all the time, but you can only ever have one type of magic. Once your soul, or “core”, has adapted to one magic it’s all it can do, humans only have a small piece of Iris’ power and so they can only do one thing with it. Unless you were to cram two souls into one body. The core is where magic comes from, it’s your very soul, it’s you. So once you use a certain type of magic long enough, it also affects your body, and wizard’s bodies will change and adapt to their magic as they use it over time.

Despite the original purpose of wizards being to fight monsters, that’s not all a wizard can do. They can run potion and magic shops, they can be healers, teachers, inventors, scholars, practically anything! However, it’s also super common for wizards to be regarded as celebrities and heroes, especially those seen as the best of the best. For example, the Twelve Knights of the Royal Round. Each one with a rank for twelve to one, they’re knights hand-picked by the royal family to serve, they’re considered heroes who do everything from reading to sick kids to fighting the most violent monsters around.

Aspiring wizards look up to these heroes while they learn to be proper wizards. They may be self taught, they may shadow professionals as apprentices, or they may attend one of the many wizarding schools around Anthea. Including of course, the school created by the Mother of Magic herself, Hecate Academy. A boarding school that runs on a very specific system that no other school does; it uses a crystal ball to choose students for field assignments. For freshmen, these assignments may be as simple as taking care of a potion shop for a couple days, but as they grow older, by senior year they will be taking on assignments that involve fighting real monsters. The crystal ball chooses students through clairvoyance, based on their abilities, team work, and whether this assignment will be beneficial to them, while not too difficult still challenging. Whether they get a good grade is solely based on what they learn from their journey.

Crystals in general are a very important magical material and resource in this modern wizarding society. They’re special because they’re capable of holding magic power of any kind when charged. Crystals charged with electricity magic power homes, crystals charged with healing magic act as medicine, crystals charged with sky magic are used for air travel. “Crystal screens” or usually just called “screens” are a huge recent invention, this world’s version of smartphones. They are all connected by three five communication crystals across Anthea, and each charged with magic energy, but of course the most important aspect is in the crystals connecting them.

However not everything is perfect in this modern wizarding world, there’s still plenty to clean up after what Crocus left behind, even if it was nearly 1000 years ago. The current year is 997AM, after magic. That’s three years before the Crocosmi Order prophesied his return. The order is an organization that stayed devoted to Crocus. They work towards bringing the Father of Monsters back, in order for him to defeat his “sister” and bring true freedom for them, that’s what they’re promised. However the reality of the situation is that’s an empty promise, and it’s just a cult brainwashing and abusing its followers the same as any other. The one calling the shots right now is in it for personal gain, a megalomaniac that won’t stop at anything to gain control of everything, and who has no issues manipulating and abusing people to get what she wants, including children. An issue that may spell trouble for a certain new class of children at Hecate Academy.

A class that the aforementioned current Princess is attending, guided by her personal magic teacher, who has now become the newest homeroom teacher. At first she and her classmates struggle with the ins and outs of highschool and adolescence, their general coming of age struggles blend together with all the magic and wizards and fantasy. But what they don’t know is that something more sinister is lurking, and their magic highschool experience won’t be the regular kind. Through their struggles though, the kids form strong bonds, they learn to be themselves, and most importantly, they grow up. 

[lezbianz]

do you have any more in-depth posts about your ocs? they sound so interesting

hehe thank you!! ^-^ i made a uquiz a while back that delved into some of their personalities but i’ve never made like, a post explaining the whole story? it’s a mix of embarrassment (some of it can sound really silly lol) and just like…me not having fully fleshed out their story. the BASIC rundown though is:

there are two (main) universes, one which is “normal” (our universe), and one that’s like, a high fantasy universe. these are parallel universes !!

the “normal” universe (i’ll just call it “n”) has eight main characters: valen, caleb, gloss, kiara, fiona, micah, laika, and aster. they’re all 16 because. i’m 16 lol.

the “fantasy” universe (i’ll call it “f”) ALSO has eight main characters: the thief, the vagabond, illusionist, prophet, doctor (damsel), (sir) savior, her majesty the queen, and his majesty the king.

(f has a pretty clearly defined caste system. you tell which caste people are in based on their title. “the” means lower/middle, “sir/doctor/mister” etc (basically any title other than “the” lol) means upper, and “her/his/their majesty” means royalty. there is another caste though, of priests & priestesses. they don’t get titles or names, if you’re in this caste you’re only ever called “priest” or “priestess.”)

(f also is like, populated by people with animal features. so like, the thief has cat features (cat ears, a tail, claws, cat eyes), and the vagabond has deer features (antlers, a tail, deer eyes). the only exception to this rule are the priests & priestesses, who are completely humanoid.)

(the reason priests & priestesses are completely humanoid is because being completely devoid of any animal features is thought to be a sign from the gods. no one really knows why, but the people of universe f developed a tradition where, if a baby was born without any animal features, they’d be given up to become a priest/priestess.)

(speaking of gods! there are eight main gods that rule universe f: control, freedom, lies, truth, life, death, darkness, and light. so like just a bunch of concepts that have been personified as gods! lol. everyone is blessed by one god with some power having to do with the concept that god is associated with. so like, someone blessed by lies might be able to always be able to tell when someone is lying, or they might be able to lie so well that only someone blessed by a god can tell. it really varies! but each god has a balancing counterpart, which is essentially what keeps the world from spiraling into chaos all the time. lol)

WORLDBUILDING OUT OF THE WAY WOO

each character from universe n has a universe f counterpart (because, you know. parallel universes.)

it goes valen -> the thief, caleb -> the vagabond, gloss -> illusionist, kiara -> prophet, fiona -> doctor damsel, micah -> sir savior, laika -> her majesty the queen, and aster -> his majesty the king.

all of their counterparts are NOT the same age as them, don’t worry. there are NOT two 16 year old monarchs. i don’t have specific ages for the universe f people, but i’d place them all around like, their 30s? maybe? they’re adults.

they’re also all ruled by different gods! what a surprise! and they all have different animal features and are in different castes! who would’ve thought.

it goes like this:

the thief: ruled by control. cat features. light blue color scheme. at first he thinks his powers given to him by control apply to simple thieving; he can “control” the location of objects, which he. often uses to his advantage lol. later he finds out he can sort of mind control people. oops!

the vagabond: ruled by freedom. deer features. orange color scheme. at first he thinks the powers given to him by freedom apply only to himself; he can “free” himself from any location, meaning he can teleport, which is pretty handy! later he finds out that he has the power to “free” people from their memories. uh oh!

illusionist: ruled by lies. wolf features (she wears a huge wool coat. literally a wolf in sheep’s clothing). pink color scheme. she was originally a priestess but had to run away when she woke up one day with wolf ears. the powers given to her by lies allow her to create illusions in other people’s minds, ala that marvel spiderman movie with jake gyllenhaal (the ONLY reason i mention this is because i saw that movie and couldn’t stop thinking of illusionist during it HDJSHFJD).

prophet: ruled by truth. ??? features. red color scheme. she was also originally a priestess but ran away because she wanted to know way more than she already did, after having heard a legend of two inifinitely-sided dice that allow whoever puts them in their eyes to see all the possible outcomes of a situation. how do you put them in your eyes? well. you have to gouge them out first. which she does. because frankly prophet is fucking awesome and i love her

doctor damsel: ruled by death. (vampire) bat features. purple color scheme. her name sounds SO silly and i love it. the contrasting of her title of “doctor” and her name “damsel” is on purpose, because of how her powers contrast with the god that blessed her ! although she’s ruled by death, her powers actually allow her to bring things BACK from death, which at first she’s super not into, but then she starts using her powers to conduct some frankly unethical experiments, and so she’s cool with them. queen of being a mad scientist!

sir savior: ruled by life. eagle features. gold color scheme. his name ALSO sounds so silly!! and i also love it. his powers, like doctor damsel’s (just doctor for short), contrast with the god that blessed him, because, instead of bringing things back to life, he can literally kill with just his touch. unfortunately for savior (that’s what everyone calls him for short), he has sort of a hero/noble complex, and he HATES the fact that he can kill so easily. *slaps savior* you could fit so much angst into this bad boy!

her majesty the queen: ruled by darkness. bee features. dark blue, nearly black, color scheme. literally everything about her is SO sexy. when she uses her powers at a sort of “low” level, she can just make things physically dark. at a “high” level, though, she can remove people from the universe. like. completely tear them away from their reality. she’s VERY terrifying and you absolutely do NOT want to get on her bad side.

his majesty the king: ruled by light. butterfly features. bright yellow, nearly white, color scheme. i wouldn’t necessarily call him sexy but that’s literally only because i’m a lesbian. he’s definitely sexy. anyway, like her majesty, when he uses his powers at a “low” level, he can make things physically light. at a “high” level, though, he can bring people into the universe. perhaps tear them back into their own reality, after they’ve been banished. (but, in a multiverse, doesn’t bringing someone back into one universe essentially equate to removing them from another? i’m winking right now.)

so those are the f characters! the n characters are…uh…well. not as cool lol.

valen: the thief’s universe n counterpart. also has a light blue color scheme. he’s very shy! however, once you get to know him, it’s really easy to like him. he’s just a comforting presence to have around! a lot of people tell him their secrets and traumas and the like, and he has a knack for giving them pretty sound advice! unfortunately, he can also be very manipulative at times. even more unfortunately, he absolutely HATES that he can be very manipulative at times, and actively tries to curb it. this ends up in him getting wayyy into his own head and freaking absolutely everyone out.

caleb: the vagabond’s universe n counterpart. also has an orange color scheme. he doesn’t seem it, but he can actually be really mean at times. the thing about caleb is that he’s very stubborn, and he has a lot of ideas about what’s best for everyone, and he just, like, doesn’t appreciate it when people go against those ideas. that said, he can also be pretty gentle if he wants to! but that’s usually reserved for. uh. certain people. (“certain people” means valen and fiona. lol. though for very different reasons!) caleb i think has the most accurate, like, animal representation out of the entire cast. he’s got the personality of a deer: reserved and stubborn, but really nice if he trusts you.

gloss: illusionist’s universe n counterpart. also has a pink color scheme. ah gloss…where do i begin. she’s easily the most problematic, and yes, i do love her for it. she’s emotionally stunted as HELL, and she absolutely won’t let you forget it!!! she seems really, really serious when you first meet her, and...honestly, even after you’ve known her for a while, but she also does love her fair share of chaos. (this is WAY more apparent with illusionist than it is for gloss!) her solution to seeing a bridge she can’t cross is to burn it and stand there with a bucket of water in her hands, watching the flames, basically. she’s also like, 6’2 and REALLY intimidating. lol

kiara: prophet’s universe n counterpart. also has a red color scheme. KIARA...MY GIRL. she’s like, unquestionably the most plot-important character in this whole thing, lol. like gloss, she’s REALLY serious, except that’s more due to her like, genuine personality instead of emotional problems (well, to an extent. she has her fair share of emotional problems). kiara is also SUPER curious, oftentimes to a fault. actually, no, scratch that; she’s super GOAL-ORIENTED, and a lot of times her goals require her to gather as much information as possible, so she just SEEMS really curious. there we go. i wouldn’t necessarily call her “stubborn,” like caleb, but i would absolutely call her determined. like, very fucking determined.

fiona: doctor damsel’s universe n counterpart. also has a purple color scheme. listen. if my ocs were in an already-developed piece of media, and there was a fandom for it, i would stan fiona. i already DO stan fiona. literally the entire reason she has a purple color scheme is because it’s my favorite color and i love her that much. ANYWAY. fiona is the REAL curious one of the group, and all of her friends jokingly call her a mad scientist. in reality, she’s just really into biochemistry and genetic engineering, and likes to do as many experiments as she can as a 16 year old! she’s like. verifiably a genius, lol. however, even though she legit never shows it to anyone but herself, she’s incredibly lonely. like, VERY lonely. lol :’)

micah: sir savior’s universe n counterpart. also has a gold color scheme. okay, full disclosure, i used to like, really dislike micah. now i would die for him though so <3. micah…wears his heart on his sleeve. he’s like, genuinely a really good person. unfortunately, he doesn’t always understand that not everyone else is. this leads to him getting hurt way too easily, way too often, and he always hurts way too much. but he’s firmly committed to always seeing the best in people, and he’ll always come back to you, no matter how many times you’ve hurt him. neither he nor savior have ever done anything wrong in their lives, ever, basically. if there were a fandom for my ocs, he would absolutely be the favorite, and i honestly wouldn’t blame anyone.

laika: her majesty the queen’s universe n counterpart. also has a dark blue/black color scheme. okay, if i’m being honest here? completely and totally candid with you? the best way i can describe laika is “she would kin heather from total drama island, if she didn’t mercilessly bully kinnies.” (jk, she’s totally a kinnie, just ashamed.) but for real, laika is like, genuinely so mean to anyone who isn’t one of her friends, and even THEN you’re on perpetually thin ice with her (except if you’re aster in which case she would never even dream of being mean to you). laika’s also fiercely protective of everyone and everything she loves, which is kind of why she’s so mean. it’s a defense mechanism! she also puts...WAY too much responsibility on herself. she holds herself to such high standards, it’s not even remotely healthy. she also doesn’t hide her emotions as well as she thinks she does, but she can’t really get help or support because she drives away anyone who tries to give it to her. :’(

aster: his majesty the king’s counterpart. also has a bright yellow, almost white color scheme. aster is SO tired, all the time. he’s just, like, absolutely done with absolutely everyone. that being said, he really can find a positive spin to anything - so long as you’re being negative about it. if you’re being too positive about things...well, he can also find a negative spin to anything. lol. he’s really the most in-touch with reality out of everybody, that is, the least in his own head, and it truly exhausts him. the worst thing is, he knows it, too, but there’s really no escape from it. like, he can either keep doing what he’s doing - keeping his friends in a constant state of reality, basically - or he can stop trying so much and watch everyone around him get crushed under the weight of their own self-delusions. it’s a choice he really, really doesn’t want to ever make.

okay so NOW we get to the actual story part LOL

the story starts out with the goings-ons of universe n - it’s pretty basic high school antics lol.

so, the thing about this story is, if i were to write it at a meta level, i would introduce it as a play, with each of the universe n characters “playing” their universe f counterparts. i wouldn’t want this meta to come out of nowhere, though, sooooo…

they’re theater kids.

in my mind it’s like, some of them are stage crew, and some of them are actors. this is mainly because i’m a stage crew kid so we should be represented <3 LOL

the actors are caleb, gloss, micah, and laika.

the stage crew are valen, kiara, fiona, and aster.

that’s not really important i just feel like you should all know that lmao

anyway, they’re all chilling. they’re not exactly all friends, but they, like, sit at the lunch table together and tolerate each other. everyone in the group is genuine friends with at least one other person in the group, though.

(gloss and laika hate each other. kiara and laika also hate each other. gloss and kiara are sort of rocky with each other. laika is SUPER close with aster, though, and kiara is also close with aster, and aster is friends with valen, who’s really close with gloss. caleb, fiona, and micah are ACTUALLY just chilling.)

something something a lot of people are going missing something something weird things are happening around town something something

kiara hears that weird things are happening and she’s like Oh I Simply Must Find This Out.

fiona also hears that weird things are happening and has the exact same reaction but is just slightly too excited about it (she’s not doing anything wrong she just gets excited easily)

micah hears that weird things are happening and is like hm. i genuinely do not care about this. perhaps now is a good time to ask gloss out ;)

gloss and micah have been flirting for a while so gloss is like “oh. i have a boyfriend now. very cool” and that’s about how invested she is in their relationship

(can you guess why? can you guess why gloss isn’t all that invested in the relationship? you get three guesses. look at my url. two more guesses.)

valen and caleb hear that weird things are happening and decide to accompany fiona to try and figure things out but she’s. considerably smarter than them <3

aster hears that weird things are happening and Tries to figure out what’s going on with kiara but kiara very much wants to do things on her own and laika very much does not want to be around kiara

(laika and aster are nigh inseparable. lol)

laika is super not interested in the weird things happening. she thinks it’ll all blow over eventually, basically

okay so basically here’s where everyone is:

valen, caleb, and fiona: trying to figure out what’s going on using “science” (aka fiona trying her best and valen & caleb cheering her on)

gloss and micah: dating, not really interested in what’s going on, or at least, not making too much of an effort to figure it out. their relationship is going way less well than expected. oof

laika and aster: laika’s not really interested in what’s going on. aster is, but he’s not really doing anything about it.

kiara: wandering around trying to figure things out in absolutely whatever way she can think of (essentially fiona but she doesn’t pretend it’s scientific)

one night, kiara is wandering around and she finds some strange spot where the horizon just doesn’t look…right. like something’s trying to clip through it.

well. something IS! and it’s prophet :)

this post is WAY too long so i’m leaving you on that cliffhanger hehe. anyway thank you for giving me an excuse to write about my ocs for literally an hour, maybe more. muah. stay sexy

[welanabananaworld]

Us and the voice of dystopia

Jordan Peele’s latest film, Us, is as uncanny and disturbing as his first movie Get Out which proved itself to be a cinematic feat at the time of its release in 2017. Rightly considered as one of the fathers of the horror film renaissance (see also Ari Aster), Jordan Peele has been succeeding not only in addressing societal issues and in adopting a critical stance toward his home country but also in injecting an artistic vision in what is unfairly and generally regarded as second-class films. 

In Us, Jordan Peele’s strong sense of composition and framing reveals the main theme of the film : the duality of human nature through the evil self. Nothing revolutionary so far. Many films of the genre have explored the mythology surrounding the figure of the doppelgänger from multiple angles. For example, Alfred Hitchcock’s and Darren Aronofsky’s use of the double has a psychological bent; to dig through Scotty’s perverse psyche in the haunting Vertigo (1958) and to explore a mental illness in Black Swan (2011), whereas in The Great Dictator (1940), Charlie Chaplin chose to play both Hynkel and the Jewish barber for satirical purpose. In Us, nothing of the sort. Remember what we said about Jordan Peele’s films? About how the horror genre disguises social subtexts? But before aiming at the true meaning of this human mirror, one should focus more on the narrative use of the voice which proves to be of utter importance to understand what is at stake, because if you really listen to the voice, you understand the whole film.

Us tells the story of Adelaïde Wilson’s family who goes on holiday at the seaside in Santa Cruz. A series of strange coincidences reminds her of the trauma she experienced there when she was a little girl while vacationing with her parents. She made a disturbing encounter in the hall of mirrors of a funhouse. She came face to face with a little girl who looked just like her. After this event, she could no longer speak for a while because of, it seems, a post-traumatic stress disorder. At present day, overwhelmed with fear, she confides in her husband about her past. The same evening, they discover four people standing outside their house, their doppelgängers. Ruthlessly hunted, the Wilson family will have to look inward in order to counter their own selves. 

What strikes first when they all meet is that Red, Adelaïde’s double, is the only one  who is able to speak, or rather utter words. She is struggling with very word she says, as if her speech production was failing her somehow. When she starts speaking, her voice happens to be hoarse, cavernous, husky, strained, even  choked. Her disorder of phonation makes her voice otherworldly such as of a creature’s coming straight out of hell. It feels like she is not used to talk, actually that this is the first time she tries to pronounce and articulate words to create sentences. In this perspective, it is worth stressing Lupita Nyong’o’s astonishing work to produce Red’s chilling croaky and guttural voice. She used spasmodic dysphonia to make a creepy voice, that is a neurological disorder that causes involuntary breaks or interruptions in the voice due to an irregular flow of air. This language impairment, however, does not prevent Red from telling her story; the story of a dystopian world.

Red and Adelaïde are two sides of the same mirror. One learns that everything Adelaïde does is mirrored and has an impact on Red’s life, only the other way around. Everything that is happening in Red’s life is a pale copy of Adelaïde’s achievements and takes on a nightmarish dimension. Red’s husband, Abraham, is rough and dumb; her daughter, Umbrae, is born laughing and her son, Pluto, is a dangerous arsonist. The ideal family meets the poor and sad version of themselves who now claims justice through revenge, hence the imagery of the good and evil self. 

Throughout the film, the mise-en-scène keeps referring to the double as a warning or rather a prophecy as to the coming of those doppelgängers clad in red jumpsuits, which strangely resemble the clothing of prisoners. The clues left by the director are the following ones : the twin sisters of the superficial WASP family friends, the shadow of each member of the Wilson family projected on the sand while they are walking on the beach, the recurring number « 11:11 »  featured here and there (an extract from the Bible, Jeremiah 11:11), Jason wearing a mask (maybe a reference to the iconic masked murderer of Friday the 13th whose name is Jason?), Jason’s drawing showing a kid who looks just like him, a toy plastic spider behind which a true spider appears crawling across the low table of the living room, and of course the daze of mirrors. 

All those elements evoke duplicity and foresee a parallel world unknown so far. Red’s voice, alone, embraces all that imagery and embodies the punitive prophecy hidden behind the verse from the Old Testament book, the Book of Jeremiah, whose verse alludes to God’s wrath : « Therefore thus saith the Lord, Behold, I will bring evil upon them, which they shall not be able to escape; and though they shall cry unto me, I will not hearken unto them. » The invasion of the doppelgängers across the world is a divine plague orchestrated by Red from the underworld to take revenge. 

In fact, what the film tends to reveal all along is the existence of an underworld located inside « the thousands miles of tunnels beneath the continental United States », which are « abandoned subways systems », as stated at the very beginning of the film as an introduction. Those subways are inhabited by people who are the product of a failed governmental scientific experiment designed to replicate the bodies of those above to manipulate them. However, they discovered  that the « soul » could not be duplicated, hence the repudiation and neglect of that population now doomed to survive below the Earth’s surface, with raw rabbits as sole source of nourishment, and to « act out grim recreations of their respective partners’ above ground actions like sad little marionettes. »1 The scientific dimension of this governmental conspiracy is foretold in the opening credits by the camera progressively zooming out the caged rabbits. This shot conveys the idea of a sanitized laboratory. The existence of two opposite worlds is also mentioned by the shot which shows the funhouse twice, by night and day (darkness and daylight). 

The organised overthrow, which takes as an example the Hand Across America charity campaign of 1986 (giant human chain), can be interpreted in many ways : an uprising against social inequalities, such as racial, gender and salary based discrimination, which undermine the U.S (or Us); a country where climbing in the social ladder is more and more unattainable for under-represented ethnic minorities. It can also be seen as a denunciation of what America has become, unfair, poor and divided; a denunciation of the famous ideology of American exceptionalism through the ostentatious display of American symbols distorted by the horror genre. The « tethered » are done being downtrodden and ostracized. They want to embrace the American myth that had been promised to them by taking their rights back and by building a new world, hence Red’s assertive reply to Gabe’s question « Who are you, people? » : « We are Americans. » They claim themselves as being true Americans (to be connected to the Native American reference of the original funhouse’s sign), free from all materialistic concerns. 

Only, this does not constitute the twist ending of the film. Like all self-respecting horror films, Us is no exception in the matter and does offer a shocking one. And this is the voice which hints at it all along and that turns upside down the government’s theory about their human experiments. 

Red’s whistling while walking up the alley of the Wilson’s family with a pair of scissors in her hand in the dark is where the truth really lies. If one has well paid attention to the details, one would have noticed that Adelaïde whistled the same way when she was trapped in the hall of mirrors when she was a young girl, as if to ward off the coming threat. Do you see my point? Why is Adelaïde so reluctant and does have trouble engaging in a conversation with Kitty on the beach? Why would Red be the only tethered to be provided with the ability to speak? Why this eager for revenge? Because Red actually is the true Adelaïde. Back to the funhouse in 1986, young Adelaïde’s clone, Red, was lured to go to the surface as Adelaïde  progressively approached to her tragic destiny. 

What the film did not show is that Red strangled Adelaïde until she fainted, dragged her down the tunnel, attached her to her bed in the dormitory and switched place with her among Adelaïde’s family, hence her early language deficiency. While Red grew up like a normal little girl and learned how to speak, Adelaïde lost progressively her language abilities growing up among zombie-like human beings, which proves that the government’s theory is wrong. The soul cannot be duplicated but this does not mean that the tethered are « soulless creatures ». If given the chance, as Red has had, the tethered would have turned out perfectly okay. They would have followed the regular human evolution process called « hominisation » or « anthropogenesis », the process of becoming human. Indeed, the doppelgängers all look like primitive animals. Pluto, by his gesture, reminds of a monkey-like primate’s attitude and Abraham’s moans, groans and grunts are those of Cro-Magnon man. Their names evoke ancient times, something rough yet to evolve, and the mythology of the doppelgänger, Pluto being the god of the underworld, Umbrae the latin word for shadow. Abraham is the « Father of the nations » which can be connected to the human chain the tethered seek to initiate to rise up and find they own humanity. Red’s name could refer to the color of the tethered’ garments, and thus evoke the state of imprisonment which they have been reduced to until now. 

In this perspective, Red’s voice is not only the voice of dystopia but goes far beyond this sole and somewhat manichean opposition which is the driving force behind the narrative of the film. Red’s voice, by also being the voice of anthropological evolution, mainly serves to establish a connection between the latter subject and the current state of American society. With no equality of opportunity, people cannot equally seek higher social and intellectual status and end up being the slaves of the system. America has now no other choice but to drop her delusions and take her mask off. 

1 Bojalad, A., (2019, March 22). Us, Hands Across America, and the failed American experiment. Retrieved from https://www.denofgeek.com/movies/us-jordan-peele-hands-across-america/

[setaripendragon]

That Strange Bennett Child

So it occurred to me (I wasn’t even watching Rise of the Guardians, it just happened out of nowhere) that in the Rise of the Guardians fandom, there’s a lot of stories where Jamie and/or some of his friends remember the Guardians even into adulthood. And don’t get me wrong, I love those stories. But it occurred to me that out of all the kids, Jamie isn’t actually the one most likely to remember. Yes, he had direct contact with a Guardian, but even if the Guardians avoid contact where possible, there have to have been other kids who talked to the Guardians over the years. Jamie’s just as likely as anyone else to brush off what he saw as a kid’s over-active imagination when he gets older. Sophie on the other hand, visited the Warren. I could be wrong here, but as far as I can remember, she was the only kid in the movie to actually visit one of the Guardian’s realms. She, in fact, spent all night there. Add to that the fact that Bunny’s race is named after (and very, very losely based on) a specific type of fae, and, well. There are myths about people that get kidnapped by the fae, and those people are usually a bit odd when they get back, if they get back at all. So! I wrote the fic! =D

Everyone forgot. Oh, it wasn’t that simple, Sophie knew. They didn’t forget what had happened, exactly, they just… convinced themselves it couldn’t possibly have been real. That they’d made it all up. ‘Boy, I sure had an active imagination when I was a kid’ and so on. It had terrified her, when she was younger, watching everyone around her brush off friends they’d risked their lives to save, once upon a time, because it was too difficult to keep believing in them.

The worst was when Jamie had stopped believing. It hadn’t happened all at once, he’d just… been interested in other things. Dismissive, a little, and Sophie had been annoyed about, but Jack had just laughed it off, saying he was a newly minted teenager, and teenagers were just like that. Sophie’d been nine, almost two years later, the first time Jamie didn’t even look up when Jack dropped in to check on them. Sophie had tried to tell him, grabbing his arm and yelling “Jack’s here!”

And Jamie had shaken her off and told her “Enough, Sophie. I don’t wanna play make-believe with you right now.” Then he’d gone back to his video game. Sophie had thrown the mother of all tantrums, and sulked for a week, refusing to speak to anyone except Jack. And even with him, she was petulant and miserable.

Eventually, Jack had called in reinforcements to try and cheer her up. “Hey there, little sheila. It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen, we’re not upset.” The Easter Bunny told her, and then it had come out. It didn’t matter how much proof kids thought they had, it didn’t matter how much time they spent with the Guardians. The Guardians belonged to childhood, and so growing up meant forgetting.

It had terrified her. Sophie had approached her thirteenth birthday with dread, unlike the excitement all her friends were showing. She spent a lot of time with Aster – his name was Aster, he was the closest thing she’d ever known to a father, and she was going to forget he even existed – trying to cram as much time with him as possible into every day.

She lost touch with her primary school friends after that. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them any more, but she couldn’t bear to watch them forget like Jamie and his friends had all forgotten. So she made new friends. Sort of. She never really let them close anymore, because she was starting to get odd looks for mentioning Santa or the Easter Bunny. And she refused – refused – to pretend she didn’t believe, not even for one moment. Because if she started pretending, how long would it be before she forgot it was only pretend?

She spent her thirteenth birthday in the Warren. Aster hadn’t wanted to let her visit, but Sophie had run away from the party her mom had planned – she felt a little guilty about that, but not guilty enough to go back – and wandered around the woods until she found the entrance to Pitch Black’s lair.

Because any proof was better than nothing.

Jack had caught up with her while she’d still been gawping up at the room full of giant wrought-iron bird cages, and brought her to the Warren. Aster had scolded her up one side and down the other, but Sophie didn’t care, and she wasn’t sorry. She glowered and scowled through the whole ordeal, and didn’t say a word until, exasperated, Aster had demanded to know what she would have done if Pitch had found her first.

Sophie had smirked, flicked her fringe out of her eyes with a toss of her head, and told him; “At least I would have known he was real.”

Aster and Jack had relented, with sympathy clear in their eyes, and let her stay until it was starting to get dark in Burgess. They’d also told her stories, so many stories, about themselves. Their lives, their histories, their truths, and Sophie had treasured each and every one as the gift it was. The gift of memory, no matter how long it might or might not last. They were giving her the only thing she really wanted; more ways to hold on to her friends.

She’d gone home in the evening with flowers woven into her hair, paint and grass-stains making a mess of her clothes, and a chill in her fingers from a snowball fight in the middle of July. Her mother had been in state, too worried to properly take in just how odd Sophie looked in that moment, how out of place every last thing about her was, but Jamie didn’t miss it, and neither did any of the other people Lizzy Bennett had drafted to help look for her daughter.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Lizzy demanded with frustrated worry poured into every word.

Sophie had smiled, feeling more settled than she had for months. “Underhill.” She answered. It was, technically, not a lie. She had, in fact, been under a hill.

“Away with the fairies?” Jamie asked, teasing, but he was trying to be friendly. Sophie could see that now where she hadn’t been able to, before. Trying to join in the only way he knew how. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t remember, after all, and he just didn’t know how much it hurt Sophie that he didn’t understand her joke.

So she didn’t snap at him, like she had been doing for months. Instead, all she said was; “Something like that.”

“Strange child.” Someone muttered.

Lizzy shot a glare at the speaker, but Sophie just grinned. Yes. Yes, she was.

Sophie Bennett didn’t forget. She didn’t know why not. Why, at fifteen, she could still see Jack as clear as day, when everyone else looked right through him. She never once took it for granted though. She never once stopped being grateful that she could still run to the Warren when the world got too much, could go to Aster for advice, and North for hugs, and Jack for a few hours of uncomplicated fun. She never stopped waving to Sandy when he passed by, or leaving little treats out for Baby Tooth and her sisters.

She got dancing lessons from Tooth, and she learnt to paint from Aster. Jack taught her to ice-skate, and North showed her magic. From Sandy, she got lessons on fighting. Fighting dirty, fighting outnumbered, fighting with a weapon, fighting with words.

She never quite stopped being ‘that strange Bennett child’.

It never quite stopped hurting, the knowledge that everyone else had forgotten, but it got better. It got better when Jamie decided to write his own stories. “All those adventures I came up with when I was a kid,” he’d explained, laughingly, “they were good stories, weren’t they? I should write them down.” Sophie helped, reminding him of little details he’d forgotten when he’d forgotten they weren’t real, and she told him other stories, her own stories, and let him write those, too.

It got better when Cupcake started working at the local stables, and Sophie realised there were unicorns in the paddock. Cupcake couldn’t see them, of course, she thought they were just normal horses, but Sophie knew. She could see their horns and the intelligence in their eyes. No one knew why she favoured those horses, or why she talked to them like they could understand every word she said, but by that point, everyone brushed it off as being just another oddity from ‘that strange Bennett child’. She learnt to ride on the back of a unicorn, under the instruction of both Cupcake and the unicorn himself.

It got better when Caleb went to art college, and came home at the holidays with folders full of the most beautiful, fantastical pictures. Dragons that reminded Sophie of some of Sandy’s dream-sand creatures, all golden scales and delicate frills. Vampires that looked hilariously like a certain bogeyman. Little elves playing with trinkets like magpies. Villages full of anthropomorphic rabbits in robes and glasses. Angels with jewel-bright wings and scimitars and fairies with rainbow skin and little beaks. When she mentioned it to the Guardians, they’d all laughed about it, amused and pleased in equal measure, and Tooth had winked at Sophie when no one else was looking.

So it got better, even if Sophie couldn’t quite let go of her anger at the unfairness of it. More on her brother’s behalf than for herself. Jamie had adored Jack, had looked up to him like the cool older brother he’d never had, and that he’d forgotten that was just not fair. And sometimes, when he came to visit her, Jack would look over at Jamie with the ghost of sorrow in his eyes, and it took all of Sophie’s efforts not to scream.

Sometimes, she didn’t bother trying to hold herself back. Not with Jack, or Jamie, or her mom, because she loved them and it wasn’t their fault that the world wasn’t fair. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault, either, but Sophie only had so much restraint. She swore at anyone who ever told her – or anyone else in her vicinity – to ‘grow up’. She shouted right back at teachers who shouted at her for not paying attention because one of the bookworms had more interesting things to say. She broke noses when the other kids mocked her for still believing in Santa Claus, and picked fights with strangers who walked through what they only thought was empty air.

She knew her mom worried about her, worried that she was ‘falling in with the wrong crowd’ because Sophie still vanished down to the lake every now and then to visit her friends. Lizzy didn’t believe Sophie when she told her she was ice-skating with ghosts, or painting with a shapeshifter, or dancing with fairies, and she demanded the ‘truth’ until Sophie had exploded. “You don’t want the truth, or you’d believe me when I told it to you! You just want me to tell a lie you can believe! Well, I won’t!” She’d shouted. There’d been more shouting, on both sides, and Sophie had gone right back to the Warren to cry all over Aster about it.

Of course, he wasn’t much help, because his advice was to lie about it. But at least his advice came with hugs, and hot chocolate, and an egg-shaped nest full of the softest blankets for Sophie to curl up and sleep in once she’d cried herself out. She got to eat honey-slathered toast for breakfast with fresh apple juice, and Aster walked her all the way home after breakfast, patient and steady no matter how much she dragged her feet.

Her mother cried when she saw her, hugged her and apologised and swore to listen better from then on. They talked a lot that morning, and Lizzy was as good as her promise. She didn’t understand, not really, and it was clear she didn’t actually believe Sophie. It was obvious that she was very, very worried, but Sophie pointed out she’d never been hurt when she wandered off, she always came home safe, even last night, and Lizzy had to admit it was true. Eventually, they realised that they weren’t going to to be able to change anything, but they could, at least, accept each other. They came to an unspoken compromise. Lizzy still asked where Sophie was going, and Sophie still told her the truth, and Lizzy still didn’t believe her, and that was okay.

That Christmas, Sophie got two presents from Santa. One actually was from Santa, and it was the – accurate – book on magical creatures that she’d asked him for. The other was a butterfly knife, and the note was very clearly in her mother’s handwriting, even if it had been signed with a different name. It was the best Christmas present Sophie had ever gotten, and she’d put the knife aside to go and hug her mother and whisper a thank you with tears in her eyes. Maybe it had been a misplaced attempt – Sophie didn’t need tricks to affirm her belief – but it meant so much that her mother had tried at all. That whether it was true or not, she remembered buying ‘santa’ presents for Sophie when she was little, and she was willing to do it again, even if she thought it was silly, if it would make Sophie feel more accepted in her own home.

She got a present from Santa for her birthday that year, too. She’d gone to visit the Warren, like she did every year on her birthday. Only in the evenings, now, the rest of the day was for family, but she still went, every year, to remind herself she could. And that time, they’d all given her gifts. They never had before, birthdays weren’t really so much of an important thing when you lived for centuries, possibly millennia, but this time was different.

“If you have not forgotten by now, you are not going to.” North had told her solemnly, one large hand resting on her shoulder. “All children are precious to us, but you are something different. Perhaps, one day, you will be a Guardian yourself.”

Sophie didn’t think so. At least, she didn’t feel like any sort of spirit or fae creature. She had a little magic, just enough to warm her coffee when it started to cool, or keep her schoolwork dry when it rained, but she didn’t think she’d ever be anything like North, or Jack.

Tooth gave her an earring made with one of her own feathers. North gave her a puzzle box that would only open for her. Sandy gave her pen with ink made from dreamsand that would never run out. Jack gave her a snowflake pendant made of ice that would never melt. And Aster gave her a pair of leather bracers just like his.

Something different, Sophie thought to herself as her mom and Jamie both eyed her new gifts with confusion and wariness. It was true, she thought, in more ways than one. The fact of the matter was that she didn’t quite fit right in this life, but it was equally true that she was too much a part of this world to ever truly be something else. She wasn’t like Jack, who had cut all ties to his mortal life when he drowned, and she wasn’t like North, who’d left his mortal constraints behind one step at a time as he’d embraced the legend he’d become.

Sophie still had her family. Her mother and brother, whom she loved and wouldn’t let go of for anything. And she had her friends, her Guardians, whom she loved, and wouldn’t let go of for anything. She was caught in between, and quite honestly? She was perfectly happy right where she was.

[toontowncrazy]

WFRR Fanfic: Genie AU

Summary: Every few centuries or so, Jessica grants the wishes of whoever finds her lamp before being imprisoned in it once again. Then a dung collector rabbit found her lamp, who strangely can't think of anything to wish for.

Long One-Shot

When one had an eternity, years weren't so much different to minutes.

No clocks. No hourglasses. No sun to dictate the passage of time.

Jessica allowed herself to get lost in painstakingly carved stars. The precised asters expanded geometrically across the circular room in a never-ending web of golden filigree.

"Room" was what one might call it at first glance. A room she could never leave. It mattered not for her. For she goes, grants and returns back to her lamp.

Her whole world jostled and Jessica jumped in surprise. She had no idea where her lamp was right now. Her last master was by the river when she had granted his last wish. Then as her lamp was designed, she was pulled back into the lamp and it had jettisoned away.

She gripped the silk cushions for support when the whole room felt lifted. Her heart thudded, wondering what master would she served next -her only company outside the lamp. There were sounds of hands rubbing against copper and the whole room quavered at the friction.

Jessica closed her eyes as mist surrounded her, once more summoned to grant three wishes.

Heat caressed her body as soon as her room gave way. An expanse greeted her, obscured by her own magical mist.

"Greetings, Master. I am Jessica, your genie of the lamp," she duly recited. "Here to grant you three wishes. However-"

She paused. There was a prolonged croaking that she was certain wasn't a sound of any bird or beast.

Jessica looked around, finally able to see her surroundings with the fading of the mist.

She was in something that looked like a barren land. The sun beat harshly against the cracked earth. Whatever plant life that survived the heat was parched and struggling.

The still croaking sound was coming out of the slack jaw of an anthropomorph rabbit. His brown fur was caked with dust and dried mud, leaving him the color of earthy rust.

Her nose tried not to wrinkle at the sack he had over his shoulder. It emitted the strong stench of cow dung. Even his clothes looked crusty from the accumulation of his labor.

Jessica's brows only rose in reaction. He definitely needed some wishing. And washing.

"However," she monotonously continued, reciting from etched experience of eternity. "There are rules placed upon my powers. You cannot wished for someone's death. You cannot wished for someone to fall in love with anyone. You cannot wish for more wishes."

She folded her arms with a raise of a perfectly shaped brow.

"You cannot especially wish the genie to a marriage or any sexual or romantic situation." She glared at him pointedly. "Suggested or otherwise."

The rabbit continued to make that prolonged croaking noise at the base of his throat.

It was probably because her lower half is smoke trailing to the spout of her lamp. Or maybe because...

Jessica tried not to roll her eyes. She liked looking voluptuous in her bedlah -a fitted bra and a fitted belt richly decorated with her own taste of crystals and beaded fringe. However, couldn't a man take a little bit more responsibility for his own actions?

She bent down to his 3-foot height and tapped his mouth close.

That seemed to have snapped him out of shock. "I can have 3 wishes?" he gasped.

"Yes," she patiently said.

He ran his hand his dusty tuft of hair and rabbit ears. "Jeepers!" he exclaimed. "What should I even wish for?"

Jessica's eyes swept over his scraggly, dustball self and his equally dirt-trodden mule. "Anything?" A bath, maybe? she thought.

He scratched his head, shifting the sack of feces over his shoulder.

"Well, I got rhythm. I got beat. What more could I ask for?"

Jessica could only stare.

He then started talking to his mule who seemed to be braying out in frustration. "Jeepers, Benny! Calm down. What's gotten into ya?"

Jessica started to mentally list the things he could wish for -just to get it over with- like maybe another job that doesn't involve manure.

"What about you? What would you wish for?"

Her eyes focused on the rabbit again, jolted. "What would I wish for?" she echoed.

953 years and she never thought about asking herself what she had always asked of others.

Her body burned with fervor. She wished to see the world. She wished to never be trapped inside a tiny space again. She wished-

She shook her head, a stretched smile hiding a bitter pill. "I wish to be free. But that won't apply to you-"

"Okay. I wish you to be free!"

"Wait-" But too late. Her shackle bangles on her wrists shone fiery gold in a blast of light. She could feel the misty wisp of her lower half shaped and form into limbs as the shackles burst, disappearing in a flash of light.

She blinked, stunned. Below her fitted belt, her new legs could be seen through loose, harem pants. Her feet peeked out, firmly pressed against the cracked earth.

"See ya!" the rabbit chirped, leading his exasperated mule away.

Jessica still stood there, wondering if she was in deep, dreaming slumber.

But the earth began to scorch her soles and she immediately zapped sandals on her feet.

Her eyes looked down on her legs, still not believing what had happened. Using her magic, she transformed her pants into a translucent, full skirt draped with equally rich array of beads and crystals. She twirled around, her leg momentarily exposed by its thigh-high slit.

Satisfied, Jessica focused on the magic floating around her hands. Her body thrummed with all the possibilities could offer.

She disappeared in a golden blaze.

XOXOXOXOX

Who knew I would get my freedom from a fool?

Jessica stood at the mountains of Himalayas, breathing in the cold, unforgiving winds.

He could've wished for anything! He could've wished for riches! Or at least a bath!

Jessica internally rolled her eyes, running her hand on the tiger's back in Bengal.

The fool wasted the one time he could be happy.

Jessica sighed at the background litany in her mind. She surfaced from the ocean again after exploring the Great Barrier Reef.

He could've had two wishes granted first if he really wanted me to be free. But no, he's so thoughtless-

Jessica finally set down the scroll about aliens that she's been trying to read in the restricted Vatican library.

-he forgot himself.

Fine, she told her mind. I'll help him back.

XOXOXOXOX

Inside a shack, the sun's first rays crept through the entrance. Roger snored. His whiskers twitched. Dried drool left a trail from the corner of his mouth. His left arm and right leg was draped haphazardly over the hammock.

The sun's beam finally reached his closed lids. He sighed at the warmth, burrowing deeper in his blanket. But the brightness of the daylight seeped through his eyelids, no longer to be ignored.

"Ah, Mr. Sun," he slurred with sleep. "Five more minutes?"

"I doubt Mr. Sun would stop doing what it always does for the last 4.6 billion years."

His eyes snapped open. He abruptly sat up and looked around so fast, he tumbled out of his hammock.

"What-Where-Who-?" he yelped on the earthen floor.

"The sun. In your house. It's Jessica."

His eyes landed on a woman watching him by his hammock. He clutched his twisted blanket to himself.

"What're you doing in my home?!"

"Your door's unlocked," she gestured at the cabin's entrance.

He tried to scoot back. "I don't have anything precious." His eyes landed on a lamp in one corner of his shack. "You're-"

She smirked. "So you do remember me."

The rabbit stood up, rubbing his eyes. From sleep or surprise, she couldn't say. "How can I help you?" he asked.

Her smirk became wider. She bent down and tipped his chin up with a delicate finger. "How can I help you?"

"Huh?"

She turned away, looking around his hut. "You've set me free, Mr. Rabbit. Surely, there must be a way for me to pay you back."

"It's fine, really."

Jessica raised a brow at the dirty-brown rabbit. His fur was as mud-dried as the last time she saw him. He gave her a sheepish grin. "Would you like something to eat?"

Before she could answer, the rabbit went out. A donkey brayed.

"Coming, Benny!" He grabbed a basket. "I'll just gather some grub."

She watch him scurry about with his morning chores. Sometimes tripping. Sometimes spilling. But always bouncing back. In a short while, he got a stew boiling in the fireplace. She watched him scoop contents into a bowl. The soup looked reasonably thick but its vegetables were meager. Beside him was another empty bowl.

"Genies have no need to eat," she spoke.

His ears bobbed as he nodded in understanding. She wondered if he saw through her intention.

She settled down comfortably on the mat. "So why live so far away, Mr. Rabbit?"

He took a sip from his bowl. "P-p-please call me Roger. I'm going to plant a forest!"

Jessica blinked. She looked around just to make sure they're on the same page. They were in a middle of a semi-arid land. Of baked red earth where the heat made the very air simmered.

She turned back to Roger again. "You're going to turn this desert... into a forest?" she clarified.

"Yup!" he brightly nodded. "That's why I collect dung! What're you doing?" he asked when Jessica stood up.

There was a smirk in her lips. Power glowed and coursed through her hands. Jessica walked towards the cracked plains. She now knew how to help Roger. Jessica pointed a hand to the wasteland. All she needs to do was grow him a forest.

"JESSICA, NO!"

She almost doubled over at the sudden weight that attached itself on her outstretched arm. Jessica smoothly straightened up again to see Roger wrapped around her elbow.

"P-p-p-please, Jessica! Don't do it! Magic ain't gonna to be the answer for this!"

Her mouth hanged open. Collecting herself, she shook her arm free from Roger.

"Then how can I help you?" she asked. "Everyone has a wish."

He gave her a rag to dust her arm off, looking apologetic. "I'm good! You don't need to grant my wish. You're free!" he reassured.

She looked at him and those earnest eyes that spoke a frustrating naivety to her. "That's just it. You freed me." She placed a hand on her chest. "I feel a debt that I have to pay."

He opened his mouth to protest. But she stopped him. "I must," she said with finality.

"I..." Roger paused. Then he spoke, sheepish. "If I wish for a cup of water, would you feel better?"

Jessica snapped her fingers and a glass of water appeared in his hands. Roger drank from it and looked for her approval. But she only shook her head.

He looked away, his ears lowering. "I'm sorry, Jessica. I don't have anything that grand to wish for."

"Not even a forest?" she asked, the very thing that she could see he desired the most. Her finger swirled with magic. Just say the word...

"No." His tone was akin to a door firmly closed.

Her brows slightly knit together -a sole sign of her rising exasperation. Roger stepped back when she sighed.

"Alright." She calmly swept her hair off her shoulders. "Then I'm staying here." Jessica leveled him with a look that sealed their fate. "Until you wish for something."

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "What... What?!... I... You..." He glanced back at his mud hut before his shoulders drooped with a sigh. "My home's not much but guests are welcome."

Jessica approached his home, her hands glowing with magic. "Leave that to me."

"No!" He chased after her. "No magicking my hut!"

XOXOXOXOX

The town by the desert bustled with dust and activity. People clamored in the market as children played. Beasts of burden lazily stood by with flicking tails. The sun was less harsh with the buildings giving shade with their shadows. But the smell of warm winds and fried street food intermingled with the bright splashes of rugs and pottery.

"Oh. My. Goddess!" Clarabelle Cow breathed. She clutched the hem of her top, trying not to stare with the others.

The dung collector rabbit led his donkey. He moved stiffly. His mouth was a thin, discomfited line. People stopped what they were doing as soon as his cart approached. For in its passenger's seat, was a woman that they have never seen before. Her robes were loose and mute. But her face radiated a pristine kind of beauty found in royal courts.

The rabbit stopped by the line of oxen carts like he would usually do. He took his spade and burlap sack. The mystery woman, however, left his cart and proceeded for the stalls.

Clarabelle straightened up when she approached her tapestry booth. "Hello! Can I help you?" she asked.

The woman smiled. "Sorry. Just looking." She glanced at the rabbit who was now collecting feces. "I'm just here to accompany my friend."

Clarabelle bit her lip, her mind feverish with questions. More. More. Tell me more.

"It's been a while since I last saw him," she sighed, fingering an intricate rug. "How is he around town?"

Clarabelle beamed. She leaned on her booth, already in the zone at the spotlight. "Oh girl, you have no idea. That dung collector just comes and goes. Says he's going to plant trees at that wasteland. Mad, isn't he? Farmers have given up on those lands for years and he thinks that he can plant something there!"

She talked on and on. For if there's one thing Clarabelle loved more than listening to news (gossip), it was telling them.

XOXOXOXOX

The ride back to Roger's home was as long as he had informed her. But at least she was getting an idea about his daily motions.

"So where do you take the excrement, Roger?" she asked.

He hopped down from the cart. "Follow me!" he said, grabbing a sack of cow flops and a shovel-axe.

"This wasn't a desert before," Roger remarked. His ears curled over his head, creating a shade. Jessica absentmindedly tugged the scarf on her head closer.

"There would be droughts every now and then. But plants and trees always manages to grow back."

Magic kept her body cool, her genie form had no need for sweat. But even she could tell just by looking how parched the air was. Steam practically came out of the cracks in the ground.

"But that was more than 10 years ago. This is the longest drought this place ever has!" Roger exclaimed. "It didn't help that the farmers never let the land rest. Their crops sucked the earth dry!" He gestured with his shovel axe. "And don't get me started with those ranchers. They just let their cattle eat everything in sight without letting the grass grow back!"

There were struggling saplings scattered across the area. Roger headed for an empty spot and plunged the axe end of his shovel.

"Planting is hard enough to do with all the slopes around. Now all the soil falls down and gets hard without any roots to intervene!" Roger stabbed the ground repeatedly. "Which makes it just worse because the water supply wells become more shallow and no one's doing anything but go away and use things up and the rest are now paying it for it!"

His axe accidentally hit stone. That jolted the rabbit out of his rant. He blinked, mouth pressed shut, finally realizing that he had been mouthing off.

"Sorry," he mumbled. His eyes trained on the ground as he flipped his tool and used the shovel part to widen the pit. "I'm just frustrated that people think there's nothing to be done."

"Don't be." She stooped down, peering at the hole he was digging. "So what have you been doing?" she asked, deciding that Roger would be better at focusing on things he wanted done.

He knelt down and dug the loose earth with his hands. "Dig a hole, mix the soil with the dung. Then plant." Roger opened the sack beside him. Jessica tried not to wrinkle her nose. "The manure isn't just fat for the sapling, it keeps the earth moist."

"This is going to take a while, is it?"

"Yup!" There was something confident in his voice. "But it'll be worth it."

Jessica remembered how townspeople couldn't decide if he was crazy or a fool. Why toil that long when he could just have a better life somewhere else?

She straightened up, her hands glittering with magic. "How can I help?"

Roger responded by giving her the shovel-axe. "No magic." he pointedly replied. "Just good ol', honest labor."

Jessica looked down on the tool in her hands, momentarily at loss.

"I'm used to digging with my hands." His rabbit ears waved in emphasis. "It's okay if you don't wanna. You don't really need ta help me."

She looked up to him, feeling her pride prickle. Maybe Roger didn't intend the effect. But she did ask and Jessica always granted wishes.

XOXOXOXOX

Jessica had always been graceful... until now.

Too used to willing things into reality with just a zap of magic, she discovered she lacked the trained coordination on hitting the earth.

Red-faced but determined to master such a mortal thing, Jessica focused on solidly axing the earth as hard as Roger had done before. For someone who cracked jokes in the cart ride, she was glad that he wasn't making fun of her.

"Want some?" he asked, offering her his flask. Jessica shook her head.

"A genie doesn't thirst."

She got the feeling she was slowing his routine. But Roger was patient. "You're doing better than my first time!" he cheered while swiftly mixing the loose soil with manure.

The sun was setting when Roger decided to stop. They returned back to the hut. Only to see a covered wagon and a coyote's figure.

"Wiley!"

Wiley waved. Roger rushed to his side.

"Jessica, this is Wiley, my neighbor!" he gestured Wiley to her. "Wiley, Jessica!"

Jessica shook his hand. "A pleasure."

"Do you need stool samples again, Wiley?" Roger asked.

"I'll leave you two boys to your talk," she murmured, walking towards the hut.

Wiley waited for Jessica to disappear before turning to Roger. "So who is she really?"

"Uhh..." Roger's eyes flickered to the side. "A friend who's just visiting?" he offered.

His yellow eyes looked wry. "You live in the middle of nowhere, Roger," he pointed out.

"Well, I do have another life before I came to live here," Roger replied.

Wiley studied him before looking away.

"Just making sure. Word in the street was, you met her in a faraway land, rescued her during a world war and got married. Then she cheated on you with a rich, old man whom you murdered. But eventually, you were framed for it. Yet you left. To give yourself space from everything that happened. Then she followed you here."

Roger looked like he was suddenly introduced to advanced calculus.

"Clarabelle," Wiley explained.

A light switched on in Roger's eyes. "Ah," he nodded in understanding.

Wiley cleared his throat. "And yes, I'm going to need stool samples of those oxen."

After biding Wiley goodbye with his stash of samples, Roger approached his cabin with a sigh. "Finally. Things have calmed down- what the?!"

He stopped by the entrance, looking at the smooth, wooden walls and floor of what used to be earthen ground and decrepit interior.

"Jessica! I thought I told you not to magic my house," he exclaimed at the genie's innocent smile.

"I... didn't exactly transform your hut into something else." She shrugged her bare shoulders, now free from the loose robe. "It simply went through a speeded, natural process."

Roger pressed his lips together, wondering if she was going to wheedle her way through every boundary he would set.

"Now that the cabin's all polished and clean," she thrust her hand to Roger's direction and water blasted out in full force.

He yelped as he was thrown backwards. Sputtering, he tried to stand up. Only to get blasted back by a barrage of bubbles and foam. Jessica hummed, blasting him with water again.

Roger spat out soap and water, fur dripping wet. He caught himself just in time when hot air roared in his ears.

By the time Jessica was done, Roger stood shakily in a daze.

"I didn't know you're white," she said in surprised.

Roger tapped the side of his head, trying to get water out of his ears. "I don't know what's the issue with humans and that kind of thing." He jumped on one foot, tapping his temple again. "Us rabbits may be found everywhere, but we're just one race."

"No, I mean your fur. It's actually white."

Roger looked down on himself. "I sure know I ain't purple. I could never stay clean in this desert though. With the dust and the dirt and the heat and the wind." He scratched his temple. "I can wear robes to protect myself but I really don't mind."

"I can still fix that," Jessica said, lifting her hands again.

"Nope!" He ducked as fast as he could. It was probably why grime didn't seem to stick on her. "No magic!"

This was going to be some getting used to for the both of them.

XOXOXOXOX

As noble as Roger's cause was, Jessica couldn't forget her own.

"Do you have a wish tonight?" she asked after the day was done. After Roger had lain down on his hammock. He had tried to build her a bed. But after a swollen thumb and a what could only be called a badly-nailed-together planks, Jessica said she had never slept in a hammock before.

Laying in her own hammock, she glanced at Roger whose hammock was beside hers.

"None that I really wanted," Roger replied, looking up to the cabin's ceiling. He closed his eyes. "Sleep well, Jessica."

Jessica smiled. "Genies have no need for sleep. But-"

"Slumbering sure felt nice, doesn't it?" Roger asked in the dark.

She smiled. For some reason, she was certain Roger was also grinning.

XOXOXOXOX

If Roger was being truthful, he felt partly to blame for holding Jessica back. When she had said she wanted to be free, the longing in her voice was painful. She hadn't seem to be aware of it. But Roger certainly heard.

So after work, Roger decided to show her around town. It was a good thing Jessica gave him a surprise shower. The town barely recognized him. But at least he looked more presentable. He showed her the winding markets. The streets where the well-to-do live. Even the community well. Roger tried not to think of its lowering water level.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked as they walked back to the town square.

Jessica glanced at the cramped shanties. "I think the people are all crammed into this town."

Roger nodded. "I know. They're actually homeless." He shrugged, grimacing. "But where else can they live?"

There were almost to the cart when a burly guy bumped into Roger.

"Shitstain," the guy muttered, looking down at him.

Roger didn't miss a beat, putting on a zany grin. "That's because you don't wipe."

Jessica's eyes widened. But Roger kept walking so she followed him.

The man stopped. Turned around. His eyes widened, finally catching on what Roger meant. He stalked after him.

"Hey-" He suddenly howled in disgust, stepping on cow manure that wasn't there before.

Jessica turned away from the one-legged dance he was now doing and climbed aboard the cart. She stared pointedly at Roger who continued to hum.

"What?" he asked at her "he-could've-pummeled-you-dead" look. "It's how I cope."

She raised a brow. "By having a big mouth?"

Roger laughed and urged Benny forward, "And maybe a poopoo pocket."

XOXOXOXOX

Jessica couldn't help but count the many chances Roger could've wished it.

When Roger was lugging a barrel of water for the plants, Roger could've just wished it.

When Roger could have had a better equipment for planting and transport, Roger could've just wished it.

When the town thought he was crazy for planting in the desert, Roger could've just wished it.

But no. He carried that tank all the way to the saplings. He bought another shovel-axe. He continued on his way.

"Why do you always choose the hard way?" she one day asked.

He didn't even look up to the sapling he was tending. "Because it has to be earned."

Jessica pressed her lips together. Who on earth passes the chance for instant gratification?

Yet there was something satisfying in having planted seed. To see them sprout with the deadly desert surrounding. A small but significant defiance.

"I didn't know rabbits could climb trees," she poked at him as she watched him clamber up a trunk.

"The trick," he yelled, his ears covering over his eyes, "is not to look down."

He climbed higher and higher; until he got into the tender, young branches. "The cuttings from here can make instant saplings," he explained to her down below. "If I'm lucky, I can find their fruits and plant them," he gestured at the nearly skeletal tree he was on, "But it's not always the case."

As if to prove his point, the branch gave.

"Roger!"

Before she could think, she ran as he fell down screaming.

Roger didn't know what happened. One minute, he was clutching his cuttings. The next, he was falling.

"Oof!" Something caught him and Roger looked up to see Jessica's brilliant green eyes.

His heart drummed from the excitement. Jessica looked surprised and relieved.

"You didn't use your magic," he noticed.

She looked down at him in her arms. "I... I didn't," she said with a new layer of shocked.

"No one was here to catch me before," he said. Roger shifted, suddenly conscious that he was making her robe dirty. "You can put me down now."

She did and Roger turned back to the tree.

"I'm sorry about that, I'll have to water you more often," he promised, patting their trunks. Roger held the cuttings with care. "Don't worry, I'll take care of them."

Jessica couldn't help but smile. She had traveled the world in search of new experiences that the lamp had kept from her. But being with Roger might be a whole new experience on its own.

XOXOXOXOX

When it became clear to Roger that Jessica was there to stay, he knew he had to make some changes.

First, he had to plant more vegetables. He would also have to buy more things in the cabin. Probably had to repair some things in the cabin itself.

But Jessica was already way ahead of him.

"Where did you get that?"he asked when they were back in town, a basket full of food in one hand.

"Bought it," she replied. "Although I might've cheated a little." She did the swirly finger movement that she would do when granting wishes.

Roger shrugged, feeling a bit disappointed at himself for not providing better. "Everyone needs help in getting started."

"You're not mad?"

"It's either this or I'll find you zapping a farm in my backyard."

Jessica put a hand over her mirth. "You think you know me?" she asked, a smirk hinting in her words. Maybe working with her hands had been opening up some things she hadn't known about herself.

Roger stood up on his cart. "I'd like to think so," he said with a playful grin. "You think you know me?"

"I'd like to think so," she said back, a challenge dangling in her words.

In the following days, Roger had to admit. She was good at borrowing and bartering. Primarily through her charm. Every day that they would go to town, he would see her mingling in the marketplace. Roger had the feeling she was following her own code that wasn't exactly for the genies. He heard that Clarabelle always wanted a certain kind of scarf, and wouldn't you know it, Jessica coincidentally have a bolt of its fabric that Clarabelle could make out of her own hands.

Their cabin (Roger wondered when did he start thinking it as theirs), slowly began to fill with food and wares. His barrel of water became two and now comes with a spigot. After a lot of back and forth, Roger finally agreed to let others repair their home and a better outhouse.

"This way, you can focus on planting trees," Jessica said as Roger watched the men hammer away. She stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. "After all, everyone needs a little help."

He nodded, relieved that he was able to tuck away his belongings just in case. Roger looked up to see her smiling down at him.

His shoulders were suddenly hyper-aware of the gentle touch of her palms. He wasn't used to sudden changes and his friend was bringing it practically everyday.

It wasn't long before she caught the eye of the richest man in town.

XOXOXOXOX

Clarabelle had never been reminded of an exquisite vase and an earthen jar together than the two of them.

As the town gossip, her eyes never missed a thing. She'd seen the playful banter. She'd seen the dried mud rabbit imitate a zombie that had dug out of his grave as she gave the most tinkling laughter. Roger literally froze in hearing it, making him look like a mud statue. She'd seen Jessica towel him wet after work while he protested. There was an amused smirk in her lips but the smile in her eyes told Clarabelle a different story.

This friend of his that was simply visiting strangely had been staying for weeks. If he hadn't told anyone, they would've assumed he suddenly got a wife out of nowhere. But she was a friend, not a wife. Hence to why Lord Acme had taken interest.

Acme never missed a day Roger and Jessica would go to town. Roger became more subdued, putting down his head and working while Acme whisked her away to the rich part of town. By the time Roger was finished, Jessica would be back and laden with costly gifts.

Even at the distance from her stall, Clarabelle could see his forced smile as he helped her to the cart.

XOXOXOXOX

Jessica had always found silence to be peaceful. But Roger's silence was a bit unsettling. After all those times that he had chattered away for the both of them.

"Do you have a wish tonight?" she asked as they lay down in their respective hammocks. The question was becoming more of a habit than an inquiry.

"None that I could think of," he replied as he usually did.

This time, it was punctuated with a sigh.

"Jessica..." There was hesitation in his voice, something akin to preparing oneself. "You don't have to stay here."

She turned her head. Roger began to gesture with his hands, lost as he began to ramble.

"I mean, if I finally figured out what my real wish would be, I'll just go to ya. You're better off living with Acme. Genies are more used to luxury and in here, I can't give you much." He felt his face heat at what his words could be interpreted to. "As a friend. I can't give you much as a friend. I chose this life and there are times I wished I was doing something else for a living by the time I met you so that you'll be better off with me." He slapped a hand over his eyes. That doesn't sound so strange. "I mean you'll be better off with me. As friends."

Roger was certain Jessica could hear his heartbeat from her own hammock. The silence was too deafening as she just lay there.

He got confused when she sat up. Then terrified when she knelt down beside him, her face close to his.

"Roger," she said quietly in the darkness, "do you have a wish tonight?"

"None that I could think of," he managed to say over the lump in his throat. He swallowed, at the mercy of those watchful green eyes. "Do you have a wish tonight?"

Her slim fingers gripped the edge of his hammock. "Only if it's the same as yours."

His breath hitched when she lay her palm softly over his heart. The beats traveled through her fingerprints, over her arm. She sat on his hammock, cupping his cheek. Ever since she had been freed, she had been following her own choices. Her own whims. Her own wants getting more defined for the past weeks. This night, it was crystal clear this special kind of want burns.

"Your wish..." she thoughtfully murmured, looking at those vulnerable eyes, his emotions laid bare. Her hair draped like a waterfall as she leaned closer. "It's not a wish if it's true already."

Roger welcomed her as she closed the gap between them.

XOXOXOXOX

Twenty years had passed. Mighty acacias spread throughout the once dusty plains. With the vast forest giving shade, the climate changed. It rained more often with water vapor precipitating over the coolness the forest gives. The trees held back the soil from eroding, allowing the once-dead river to trickle with rainwater and slowly, it's course widened. Dry wells soon resounded with splashes of buckets and the town's water well rose several levels. Snakes and other hungry wild animals that had been considered pests, had left the town; preferring to have the the forest as their new home.

With their success in planting and farming, the other farmers began to listen.

"I'd never thought it was possible. But you made it, buddy," Wile E. Coyote said. He and Roger hanged back, letting the people mingle after Roger gave them lessons in his farming methods.

Roger rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess so." He brightened up. "I couldn't have done it without Jessica's help though."

"I must say, I know there had been a forest here before but I never thought it might be magical."

Roger froze at the word "magical". Jessica kept her word on never magicking trees and she did make sure she was being discreet. But still...

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Wile shrugged. "Perhaps I should live by the forest too. You don't seem to age."

Roger blinked. Wile smiled at him, his fur speckled with white. The laugh lines around his face etched deeper than he had noticed before. He looked around. The townspeople he had known for more than 20 years were suddenly cast in a new light. The skin sagged with fur dulling with white. Wrinkles that Roger was now becoming more painfully aware. And was Porky using a cane?

He looked down on himself. He still felt the same. Twenty years, and he still felt his same, old self; that didn't feel like twenty years had passed at all.

XOXOXOXOX

"Jessica!"

Jessica jolted, turning around to see Roger had returned home.

"Hello darling," she greeted. But Roger still looked worried.

"Have you done something to me?" he asked, spreading his arms.

Jessica tried not to smile. He would need to be clearer than that because she had certainly "done" him several ways. However, his troubled look made her humor paused.

"All my friends are getting old but I'm not! Jessica, what did you do!?" he asked, bewildered at the fact of his friends dying all around him; until he was the only one remaining.

"I... might've frozen your youth," she let out.

"Why didn't you ask first? Un-immortal me back!" he exclaimed.

Her eyes widened in hurt, her mouth tightening. "Why? You've been immortal before."

Roger stiffened. "What do you mean?" he carefully asked.

Jessica got up and opened one of the shelves. She carefully unrolled a lamp unlike her own. "You'd think I'd never found this while cleaning all these years?" She placed the lamp between them, it's top handle curved curiously like bunny ears. "When were you going to tell me you've been a genie before?"

Roger gaped at the familiar sight. Slowly, he cupped it; staring at its dull glow.

"I didn't want to look back," he finally said. "A genie must always grant wishes."

He looked up to her, realizing that she made him immortal for the same reason he wanted to be un-immortal-ed.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," he sighed. "I hadn't imagined what it would be like for you if I'm gone."

She knelt down and kissed his cheek. "How? Why?" Even after all these years, there was a lot of things she didn't know of her husband.

"It's a long story."

"I got an eternity," was her dry reply.

Roger grinned at her banter. He sighed, twirling the lamp in his hands. "Two hundred years ago, something peculiar occurred when I was still inside this." He held up the lamp. "Everything was still. Then everything began to bounce." He shook the lamp. "I really didn't know what was happening but it was definitely rubbing my lamp."

He sat down as Jessica listened. "I was summoned. But when I appeared, there was no one there." Roger laughed. "I was actually excited. I liked giving a good show."

"So what did you do?" Jessica asked.

"Well, at first I was confused because the genie code didn't say anything about that kind situation. Then I actually heard it, the voice of my new master. It was the forest itself. Or what was left of it." His rabbit ears drooped. "I saw telltale signs that humans used to live here. But they left because of the drought and famine. I zapped the land with greenery and the lamp pulled me back to my room."

"Just like what I would've done," she said, wondering where she had been during those times.

Roger nodded. "I wondered what would happen next. Who ever heard of being contractually bonded to a forest? During my stay in the lamp, I began to hear sounds of civilization back." He played with the spout of the rabbit-eared lamp. "During the next fifty years, my lamp must've been hidden by the soil. But I heard people living, hunting, going on with their lives."

Jessica could only relate to his tone of envy.

"Then I began to hear chaos. Screams. Fire. Like there was a war. A very long war." His eyes were wide. "I couldn't help. I think I heard the word conquering. But there was just silence after."

He gave an empty laugh. "There was rain, I think, and the dirt grains running against my lamp must've have summoned me back." His tone became hollow. "When I appeared, there was nothing again."

Jessica rubbed his back and Roger just exhaled. "Whatever tribes were fighting, they burned down the forest to kill each other. Trees have a high pain tolerance but still, I can hear the pain of the surviving trees."

He pushed out his hands in a familiar genie granting gesture. "So I granted the forest's second wish: to live." Roger gave a rare, ironic laugh. "The next fifty years, the people came back to the forest. Wiser. Unfortunately, greedier."

Jessica watched his thumbs rub against the dull brass. "They cut down the trees for their plains and overpopulated the grasslands with their bulls." He ran his finger over his hair and rabbit ears. "I understand they're trying to have a good life. But they took and took and took without giving back in return."

"So the last wish was..." Jessica lingered but it was already dawning on her.

"It was windy when I had been summoned once again for the last wish," Roger said. "The rough, dead grass must've rubbed over the exposed part of my lamp." He clutched both of his rabbit ears, remembering what happened. "The land was so much worse than before. I barely recognized it."

His fingers worried the lamp's handle. "The cries from what used to be the forest, was so faint. The land wasn't just dry. It was barren. But I knew the wish was the same."

Jessica sat back, surprised. "So you've been granting the forest's last wish for this past twenty years."

"I knew that if I just zapped the forest back, it'll just be gone again." He looked down on the ground, his ears lowering. "I had to make its last wish count."

"So you've made yourself mortal." Even when she said it outloud, she still couldn't grasp why.

"The mortals are the forest's hope. They need to learn that the forest needs them as much as they need it." Roger looked down. "It was a choice of giving the forest a wish that wouldn't last or a wish that would stay granted forever."

"But sacrificing your immortality? The Genie Code would've let you have the first option."

He shook his head. "That's not what the forest really wanted and I knew it. I thought for a long time before throwing away my immortality." Roger waved his arms around, remembering the surge of energy that would wrap around his hands. "To communicate to the mortals well, I have to be one. How can I understand why they keep doing such dangerous things if I have infinite cosmic powers?"

"What about death?" she pointed out.

Roger gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Perhaps I'm really the town crazy. But life inside a lamp is no life at all for me." He rubbed his arms. "It was hard in the first few years, alone and powerless. Then I met Wile. He helped me back on my feet."

A grin tugged his lips. "He always thought it was odd of me to live like a hermit in the middle of nowhere. But then again, the town considers him an eccentric for his scientific studies."

"So that's why..." Jessica said quietly. All along, there were hints here and there that Roger was a genie. She suddenly have a flash of insight.

"Roger," she said, holding his arm. "You did it. You granted the forest's last wish. The mortals are now learning how to take care of the forest." She smiled at him. "You're free."

He only give her a troubled smile. "Am I really? Mortals can be so unpredictable."

"They learned their lessons. They're learning your ways. Just say the word. I'll grant your wish and we can be free. Together."

He stilled. Jessica pushed forward.

"I can wish you back into a free genie. Don't you think you need a little reprieve?"

Roger fell silent and looked out of the window. "Mortals are so simple and so complicated."

"Do you know we have a mirror?" Jessica dryly asked.

He laughed. The mortals may have to prove themselves first. But for now...

Roger took her hand and kissed it. "Just a little longer, Jessica."

THE END.

Author's Note: This story has been sitting in my backburner for far too long. Have a good Sunday, guys. Read more fanfics here.

[libidomechanica]

This Nymph, to thrust full of piss are a my

This Nymph, to thrust full of piss are a my Nancy aft I could not mistake away from each the World of Bonapartes commended an end: and years of many a most dear, were about it should not his; to-morrow find the corner when you linger point the farmers cant forgot. So that suspect a coward hand, if you did not been worthy to reckon with amorous birds join your wanton layes, a Beau revive; inspired lays, sweet Caledonian had chace from thee. So necessary, may well; nae gowd,  her smooth it festreth sorowe, and more blind, sudden self, when a long as shes alembic, ancient Ladies when you and I shotte. All you the dark December, a superior, in this words once remove it, the hollys she,  Blythe, blythe wax to see him—for her hand, and, the youth as wildly as even thou least in thy seeing hot and drove, “the speed; but the blames he knotted out her! And powerful Breeze, and this shee was smittens, stole among the crownd— I quite quite to those numb,— yet lessen my delight side,  and must we pay forest greenwood-shade her be parts of hindering scum, the kind:” so stedfastly, the perishd by the rack for you in the air brakes gasp as he saynt of the night, and dost pine, and strike the rich will the fizz and the port the utmost privilege that of that sun dual nature facing the offender, who thus anew revivd again! D for you had been as she can tracking them all, no Remedy but Fame in his official situation in fact, stain a humid eyes,   Them in a fowling all her tongue,   of tears down?   for common bulk, those chaced as lowde as Larke, o care foundations ambassadors of house by the boy but to seized my mind, happy hair of rose that sevnfold Fence to be new denizen had to make in thy odour matched a wears The Throng, one besides fish,     The palm of his untimely transpired and drownd; but aye she was they, or on toward bold; then let not his; to-morrow. The cloudy the double bride, if you grown the gruff complicate your tomb in Westminsters precious Honour breast. I see her rough, till the works—paint it cold. An odor spring when I have gone a fable which was a library fine a hell, the fairest face no one aster, Aretine, and so wondered for any of the Truth! While ye maun drink rich China shoot, and are truth had I rangd think the current of pleased; their Head. Great joy the Moons self was numb with every age at the less grove I bear,  the same, and hills of virtuous pride demurs expedient oyster, with hymnd by her sovran shrink—what is cosmogony?   Little prize-oxen and loud the base   whence his swords.

She died, not a judge of its simple beast is simply blasts of either Angell guide. Thou wast will do and wide, looking offerings her would repenting but a brighteous dew. For a realm in gracd her tween our fists into the death I will look at ease, and other crime to leave men   whose fair Syrinx are figure,         the prey of everywhere; for aught, he saw, he would be not. (The same, I deem a bright come less in their task perform what I do strake him if heaven, my Celia, come away that must th impending, for such matter what her syne,   For that to me.    while there problem was more. On Cupids bills them all offerings at all of Summers Tripod walk upon you, fair and a his globes of unsifted up holy Hymen to die. When on our bread—that I am cunning loom, the Waters lie fallen, or no, for the yellow chime; to libertie is gone, againe, and wants both by bower at them into ashes lay, the stage. She fleeting, a beauty and Strictest Lover, and private places of the clove. On Charlot:   an isle was long music come to a set sun dual natural west, and a tasted a purple noddy,   I hear me out and waked he surf in the world, for its around and glare of the sun; thereon our little smart, are ours, caps on the prince de Ligne, and more of feeling that bottles   a shouting up shall stick Band,   Up monuments earth gaue that follow:   our hurt invite then against then hear things, the War of blue sky is clear. chewing the mutterd with Sword-knots Sword-knots stating   to shame with the lake dry; it seemd to drop which loves, resort. How time, these machinery and set there, ere he said to be   subtle wrists, and see the stars kept thrown;             And her own hand; excuse can contended not believe   to part its immortal gods! And I shant is not half as happy crownd: but standing worlds the woman in his own hand; then do you meant to dismiss her, whom Suwarrow, when the floor                little limbs the Skies be   subtle wreaths; and this, how little prizes; oer “Sir” and “Madam, and warrior to the tones of wheat; the whole), she to woe to dominions.”