#at least if She takes you that means you spend the afterlife in Her court

[burntears]

Honestly if you pray to Her for sweet dreams before bed, there’s a non-zero chance you’ll die in your sleep

[antiloreolympus]

14 Anti LO Asks

1. To the one anon: good question - how is it that the mortals dont know who Persephone is / assume she is a minor goddess and therefore its okay to mess with her but the gods (or Olympians / underworld denizens) know exactly everything about her (despite her being there only every so often and only being 20ish) - enough to say shes "wearing her signature white color" during a murder trial.

Also the reason why Persephone is wearing white is because

A). RS wanted persephone to always be "dressed as a bride" (and have Hades dressed as a groom respectively) to show that their matching / is supposed to be a visual cue that their eventually gonna be together.

B). I believe this is RS way of saying that Persephone (despite murdering some mortals) is innocent because in purity culture White = innocence, virginity, youth etc. (Even though RS explicity ssid she wanted to go against purity culture morals shes very much leaning into them). 

2. why are Psyche’s eyes yellow even in her human form? Is she sick??

3. honestly? LO is just gossisp girl at this point, espect even GG (at least in the first season) bothered to saturze the rich and was calling out how wealth and power makes them corrupt assholes. meanwhile LO is just GG season 2 and on of being like no no, the poor people are the evil people and the rich people are the oppressed ones! all while also fawning over their  wealth and status and being way into grown men wanting to bang barely legal teens and claiming to be "feminist" somehow.

4. Tumblr is well-known for broken tag system. Check the post' tags before complaining that it's op's fault. How about you guys not tag greek mythology when posting about LO? LO is not one-shot or short fancomic. It's also definitely not considered actual greek mythology. LO is years long webcomic with huge fans. LO has its own tag. Tell your fellow fans to stop using the greek mythology tag.

5. I would argue nyx is the only woman with a unique in design in LO but thats only because she looks like a deformed chicken woman. why was my night mom disrespected this much 😭

6. So now that LO is back from break and I can finally read chapter 170 - Why oh Why do ALL the female characters Have to be defined by their male love interests??? (Or really just love interests in general).

I understand LO qualifies as the "romance" genre and there are certain stipulations or I guess themes or what have you that make it romance but for f*cks sake.

Psyche being worried about Eros loving the "fake" her I kinda get, but really? Thats your most pressing concern?? Hera is defined by her garbage marriage to Zeus - King of the gods (of which is why she is Queen of the gods). Hestia + Athena are now defined solely by their relationship to each other (not the TGOEM or their respective traits of being a goddess of the hearth + goddess of war, strategy etc etc).

Aphrodite is defined by giving Persephone "relationship" advice (e.g: telling her to curb stomp Minthe because "nymphs dont take things from gods" - doubly implying that people are things to own) And by her jealousy of Persephone in the first place because Hades made a comment about how he thought Persephone was prettier than her. And also because of her "house of debauchery" (Artemis'  words) - and relationship with Ares.

Persephone is defined both by Apollo raping her and by her fated future status as Queen of the underworld (so her relationship with Hades). Hell, even the minor characters such as nymphs are defined by this relationship status / standard. Minthe is defined by her mean spirited personality yes, but Also because of her abusive relationship with Hades prior to the introduction of Persephone. Psyche is defined by her relationship woes with Eros. Daphne is defined by her relationship with Thanatos (and because shes a flower nymph) but also mostly because she looks like Persephone.

Rhea is defined by her marriage / relationship to Kronos (lets ignore the whole "fertility goddess power" plot for a second). Even Aetna is defined by Haphestus creating her! Is there not a single character (especially female) is isnt defined by their romantic love interest???Sorry. Maybe I'm overthinking this, but thats definitely how ot comes off as of late, in regard to the latest chapters.

Okay, same anon as earlier - I take it back somewhat - we have Artemis and Hecate that are not defined by their romantic relationships - but rather their lack of one.

However the way they are shown - it still comes off as a standard - "Artemis is stingy / a stick in the mud" because shes not romantically involved and is "barbaric" (according to Hera). And Hecate is still somewhat defined by her being Hades' employee (and cheerleader for him and Persephone to be together).

So technically yes, we have at least 2 characters that are not defined by their romantic interests / relationships, but they are still held to the standard of their "un-ladylike / undesirable" because their not romantically involved.

(I guess I should count Demeter, but only because shes more defined by just being "Persephone's overbearing mom" )

7. i think whats also kinda weird about this trial is like?? persephone is obvs framed as not liking the attention (bc duh) but she didnt like the previous press either, she wanted to be private, but wouldnt being with hades force her to be in the spotlight that makes her uncomfortable? also the citizens of the underworld already dislike hades, why would they want a uncontrollable felon as their queen, even if she found innocent? idk the whole thing just makes the endgame less plausible, tbh.

8. love that rachel was able to find a random deity name to name her random nymph the greek word for "beans" meanwhile apparently cant google actual greek names for even one off characters? like andrew, ellen, george, alexis, damian, luke, phoebe, sophia, and so any other english names are also greek, but she cant even bother with that? what exactly is her "research" if she cant even bother to spend 30 seconds googling greek names? at this point LO seems determined to be as un-Greek as possible.

9. wait so everyone in LO went from having no idea who persephone was, to her only showing up on ONE magazine cover, to now being the most well known person with a signature color? all in the span of two weeks with no genuine public outings? how does that make sense? also white isnt even her signature color if 90%+ the female cast and even a lot of the men ((including ZEUS) all wear it too.

10. the fact the courthouse WASNT the areopagus, aka the place in greece where they say the first ever trial ever happened and where the court system was invented, is just another point of rachel talking out her ass about being "respectful" or "researched" on greece and their mythology. its literally one of the most famous mythology spots ever with some fantastic stories to it and she's just like "nah! boring rectangle will do!" like why even both with mythology then if its this devoid of it?

11. Anons are saying Hades in the FS chapter is leaning down and talking to Persy like a child. Say it aint true.

(I wanna see. I thought RS was finally giving Persy adult proportions). 😨

12. So wait, hold up. I kinda get where RS is coming from with the law school in the underworld (because Hades is supposed to be a kinda Judge, jury, executioner situation in the afterlife when it comes to mortals and their "punishments" and whatnot). However, is RS stating that the ONLY law school / courthouse exists in the underworld? If so, why? Why wouldn't Athena be there then. She's a goddess of strategy and justice (among other things).

Also is RS really implying that Hades owns not only the banks and underworld but the law too? She really wants Hades to be a Gary Sue along side her Mary Sue - Hades controls everything that matters and since its his realm and blah blah blah rules, Zeus, king of the gods cant do anything about it.

(Which is dumb. Because you would think that because Persephone committed the crime in the mortal realm / on, or near Olympus that therefore she would be brought back there to dole out justice under Zeus jurisdiction because she committed the crime in His Realm). 

13. FP Spoiler ahead:

Why on earth couldn't the reporters have Greek names? There is so much wrong and bad with this story, yet this irks me so much. It is Brenda all over again.

14. i dont really get the point of the trial plotline, tbh. even persephone says she should be punished and held accountable, but hades is framed in the right for trying to go against that and weasel her out of it. so?? plus zeus has legit reason to punish them? persephone is a danger to others, demeter and hermes both committed treason to cover it up, and hades was harboring a fugitive of the law and is now trying to force the system to let her go. how is zeus in the wrong for this?

[heylookgiraffes]

minglan and gu tingye's argument in episode 55

it's me - ya giorl, back on thier bullshirt!!! i have a 5000 word grant proposal due tomorrow so obviously instead of that im going to write about how fucking fascinating that scene is to me!!!

(their stupid flirting!)

the rest is going under the cut because this may or may not get out of hand

ok so this scene is fascinating to me because on paper, it's like a very serious and emotionally raw argument between the main couple stemming from personal traumas and miscommunication BUT it's also so funny.

Like normally, when you have a scene like this you expect it to be super tense, emotionally stressful, sad music everywhere, but it's not - they even switch to like, their comedy/daily life shenanigans music for gods sake.

(When I was watching it for the first time I had to take a literal moment to be like "wait. did they just do that. but aren't they fighting???")

anyway, so they go from sad melancholic ruminating on life to arguing when gu tingye asks minglan what she would do if he were to die. After being like "we'll get to it if we get to it," Minglan is like: "either way, I won't choose to die"

(side note: east asia has this whole thing involving widows and remarriage, and like how its so admirable to follow your husband into death to serve him in the afterlife, etc. etc. that you shouldn't quote me on)

Gu Tingye: really?

Minglan:

she looks so offended (as she should)

gu tingye: bro!

(what he means is: "you could at least pretend you'd be sad if i died tragically")

(what he really means is: i can't tell if you love me or not)

Minglan:

*starts speed walking away*

And then we're off!

I can't even begin to talk about how absolutely marvelous the writing/acting/choreography is but this is the basic blow by blow:

Minglan: I have to rely on you for the rest of our days. If you change your mind (about me) what am I supposed to do? Hold you hostage so that you can never leave me? (the exact words involves holding a cleaver to both their throats and spending the rest of their days like that which is honestly very fishwife-y in image and the exact kind of thing that gu tingye would be delighted by)

gu tingye turning on a dime and suddenly being like "if you were able to choose again, would you still choose to marry me?"

minglan, outraged: what

gu tingye: if you were allowed to choose again, would you be marrying Yuanruo?

(ah the conflict between what an argument is about and what an argument is really about)

Something I really love here is that Minglan, ever practical and concerned about reputation, glances around a lot at all these people watching a their very public, very embarrassing fight, while Gu Tingye is only focused on them

Minglan: Qi-xiao-gongye (yuanruo) and I have never exceed the boundaries of propriety! You know everything that's happened between us! If you can't get over it, then why did you choose me?

Then why did you choose me? I feel like out of everything so far this is the most raw Minglan has been. If you go back to when Gu Tingye had just proposed, Minglan brings up a very real fear about Gu Tingye holding her past with other men over her. Her past, which in any other husband, could get her divorced with her reputation and family ruined

If Gu Tingye is insecure about Minglan being forced to marry him, Minglan is insecure about Gu Tingye deciding that he doesn't want her anymore. So when he brings this up, he's unknowingly touching a very raw nerve

And then he brings up Minglan intervening with Qi Heng (Yuanruo) harassing him in court every day (because gu tingye stole his gurl) and says:

(lmao her face)

the gist of what Gu Tingye says is "You gave him, an outsider, advice for speaking in court, but why didn't you tell me, your husband?"

Minglan: that advice (which was shutting the fuck up) would have been useless for you! I was making your life easier!

There's an exchange in this part where Gu Tingye tries to describe Minglan's advice to Qi Heng using a phrase (?idiom? it sounds vaguely literary to my uncultured ears) but he's too worked up to say it properly, so Minglan interrupts to correct him, but then later she also gets too worked up to say it properly, which is 1) hilarious and 2) really funny because you have these two very eloquent, very composed people (especially Minglan, who never loses her cool except with Gu Tingye) utterly frazzled, shouting at each other like an old married couple, which they are

this is also where the daily life shenanigans theme starts playing lmao

and then:

How I would translate it is:

"Do you especially hate me." And then he says, "Do you especially hate me for drawing such a huge circle just to marry you into my home?"

things to note: "drawing such a huge circle just to marry me" is the exact phrase that Minglan yells at him when she realizes how much he schemed to make it possible for her to marry him. This isn't the first or last time he uses this phrase, which just goes to show how deep that particular barb landed

Gu Tingye: I especially want you to hate me. But I'm so afraid that you will.

In other words: I want you to feel safe enough to be honest with me, but I'm terrified that then you won't want me anymore

Minglan, hopeless confused TM, accuses him of being drunk and starts walking back towards the carriage

Gu Tingye: I'm not drunk!

Gu Tingye: Fine, I am! I've been drunk! I feel like I've been drunk since I saved you from the water.

Gu Tingye: I know your matter with the Qi family. I know your matter with the He family. All these-

Minglan hits him on the shoulder/upper arm

Gu Tingye: - stop that!

Minglan hits him again just because

Gu Tingye: All these things I know!

Minglan, shouting: What do you really know! (except in Chinese what she says isn't this short or concise, what she says is actually pretty long winded and repetitive for her but i have no idea how to translate)

This is where it gets interesting on a me, personally, level because Gu Tingye basically grabs her and cry/pleads "I just want you to care about me! Why aren't you giving me any importance? You just don't give me any importance! I just - I just wanted to marry you!"

(side note: 😭😭😭)

Now, I don't know about other people, but normally when someone grabs someone in an argument, especially if it's a dude, my immediate reaction is like a knee jerk, hackles up, "girl its time to go," sort of deal, but it just doesn't happen here and I'm desperately curious why

So here are my thoughts:

Even though it's gotten better in recent years, Asian dramas tend to favor what could be taken as physical abuse as a sign of love/passion: wrist grabbing, arm grabbing, jerking her around, cornering against walls, forced intimacy. I feel like part of the reason why I wasn't immediately defensive was because that wasn't what was being signaled here.

For one, Gu Tingye isn't holding her in a way that could actually hurt her - his hands move from a glancing clasp on the shoulders, to her upper back, to around her waist

For reference:

The second thing is that the drama isn't portraying this as something romantic. Don't forget, we still have the comedy theme playing. Plus like, this is less a grand gesture and more gu tingye begging his wife to understand him. His wife, who was once like "yeah sure spend the night with your horrible manipulative ex to get info out of her" and then doesn't understand why he's so upset.

I use beg/plead specifically because normally somewhere else this would be like "omg he's so strong and has control over her, he can't restrain himself because of passionTM, wow so hot" (this can be fun in some places but less so when its like "if your boyfriend is hurting you non-consensually it's because he loves you too much")

Does that man look like he's in control of anything right now

There's only one other place in the series where a love interest grabs Minglan, and that's when Qi Heng accuses her of not loving Gu Tingye the way Qi Heng loves her. It's shown as being an unequivocally dick move, and Minglan throws him off immediately and walks away

The other thing is that Gu Tingye is one of the most consistently mindful characters in the series when it comes to power and privilege, and there isn't even a hint of fear of harm from Minglan.

It's just very cool that the show can have romantic conflict without being really stressful. Like, yeah, they're fighting, but you're not scared that they're actually going to separate, or that someone is going to cross the line by doing something irredeemably awful, or that this will damage their partnership enough to leave them vulnerable to other schemes

Anyway so everyone else comes rushing to pull them apart, there's a lot of shouting and it's very chaotic, with Minglan shouting at everyone else to drag him away and clambering into the carriage.

Gu Tingye: >:( i'm not getting on the carriage with her

shitou, humoring him: ok, ok, we're not getting on the carriage

Minglan, from the carriage: Back to the manor!

Gu Tingye, angr: Back to the manor!

anyway i love this show

also this is the link to the clip, the scene starts around 3 minutes

[noemibalbii]

Six of Crows duology quotes

“Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won’t matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.”

“Kaz leaned back. “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?” “Knife to the throat?” asked Inej. “Gun to the back?” said Jesper. “Poison in his cup?” suggested Nina. “You’re all horrible,” said Matthias.

“No mourners. No funerals. Among them, it passed for ‘good luck’.”

“The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.”

“When someone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”

“She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and gotten drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.”

“He needed to tell her… what? That she was lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. That he was twisted, crooked, wrong, but not so broken that he couldn’t pull himself together into some semblance of a man for her. That without meaning to, he’d begun to lean on her, to look for her, to need her near. He needed to thank her for his new hat.”

“I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.”

“Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”

“What do you want then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome, You, Inej, you.

“Greed is your god, Kaz.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Inej. Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.”

“The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”

“Better terrible truths than kind lies.”

“You’ll get what’s coming to you some day, Brekker.” “I will,” said Kaz, “if there’s any justice in the world. And we all know how likely that is.”

“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.” “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.” “There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.”

“Stay,” he said, his voice rough stone. “Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.” She looked down at his gloved hand clutching hers. Everything in her wanted to say yes, but she would not settle for so little, not after all she’d been through. “What would be the point?” He took a breath. “I want you to stay, I want you to… I want you.” “You want me.” She turned the words over. Gently, she squeezed his hand. “And how will you have me, Kaz?�� He looked at her then, eyes fierce, mouth set, It was the face he wore when he was fighting. “How will you have me?” she repeated. “Fully clothed, gloves on, your head turned away so our lips can never touch?” He released her hand, his shoulders bunching, his gaze angry and ashamed as he turned his face to the sea. Maybe it was because his back was to her that she could finally speak the words. “I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

“Some people see a magic trick and say, “Impossible!” They clap their hands, turn over their money, and forget about it ten minutes later. Other people ask how it worked. They go home, get into bed, toss and turn, wondering how it was done. It takes them a good night’s sleep to forget all about it. And then there are the ones who stay awake, running through the trick again and again, looking for that skip in perception, the crack in the illusion that will explain how their eyes got duped; they’re the kind who won’t rest until they’ve mastered that little bit of mystery for themselves. I’m that kind.”

“He’d broken his leg dropping down from the rooftop. The bone didn’t set right, and he’d limped ever after. So he’d found himself a Fabrikator and had his cane made. It became a declaration. There was no part of him that was not broken, that had not healed wrong, and there was no part of him that was not stronger for having been broken.”

“Do you have a different name for killing when you wear a uniform to do it?”

“Facts are for the unimaginative.”

“When we get our money, you can burn kruge to keep you warm.” “I’m going to pay someone to burn my kruge for me.” “Why don’t you pay someone else to pay someone to burn your kruge for you? That’s what the big players do.”

“How do you get your information, Mister Brekker?” “You might say I’m a lockpick.” “You must be a very gifted one.” “I am indeed.” Kaz leaned back slightly. “You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now, there are those who take the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach - the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate thing.” “Do you always speak in metaphors, Mister Brekker?” Kaz smiled. “It’s not a metaphor.” He was out of his chair before his chains hit the ground.”

“A liar, a thief, and utterly without conscience. But he’ll keep to any deal you strike with him.”

“You couldn’t train a falcon, then expect it not to hunt.”

“The life you live, the hate you feel - it’s poison. I can drink it no longer.”

Jesper: “If Pekka Rollins kills us all, I’m going to get Wylan’s ghost to teach my ghost how to play the flute just so that I can annoy the hell out of your ghost.” Kaz: “I’ll just hire Matthias’s ghost to kick your ghost’s ass.” Matthias: “My ghost won’t associate with your ghost.”

“But all he could think of was Inej. She had to live. She had to have made it out of the Ice Court. And if she hadn’t, then he had to live to rescue her.”

“He was going to break my legs,” she said, her chin held high, the barest quaver in her voice. “Would you have come for me then, Kaz? When i couldn’t scale a wall or walk a tightrope? When I wasn’t the Wraith anymore?” Dirtyhands would not. The boy who could get them through this, get their money, keep them alive, would do her the courtesy of putting her out of her out of her misery, then cut his losses and move on. “I would have come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together - knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”

“Fear is a phoenix. You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return.”

“Maybe there were people who lived those lives. Maybe this girl was one of them. But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to write magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.”

“Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don’t forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.”

“Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or want to kill us?” “So?” said Kaz. “Well, usually it’s just half the city.”

“She smiled then, her cheeks red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again.”

“No mourners. No funerals. Another way of saying good luck. But it was something more. A dark wink to the fact that there would be no expensive burials for people like them, no marble markers to remember their names, no wreaths of myrtle and rose.”

“Have any of you wondered what I did with all the cash Pekka Rollins gave us?” “Guns?” asked Jesper. “Ships?” queried Inej. “Bombs?” suggested Wylan. “Political bribes?” offered Nina. They all looked at Matthias. “This is where you tell us how awful we are,” she whispered.

“We meet fear. We greet the unexpected visitor and listen to what he has to tell us. When fear arrives, something is about to happen.”

“You don’t look like a monster.” “I’ll tell you a secret, Hannah. The really bad monsters never look like monsters.”

Until this moment, Wylan hadn’t quite understood how much they meant to him. His father would have sneered at these thugs and thieves. a disgraced soldier, a gambler who couldn’t keep out of the red. But they were his first friends, his only friends, and Wylan knew that even if he’d had his pick of a thousand companions, these would have been the people he chose.”

“They were twin souls, soldiers destined to fight for different sides, to find each other and lose each other too quickly. She would not keep him here. Not like this.”

“At some point, Jesper realized Kaz was gone. “Not one for goodbyes, is he?” he muttered. “He doesn’t say goodbye,” Inej said. She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing. “He just lets go.”

“I’ve been nothing but kind to you. I’m not some sort of a monster.” “No, you’re the man who sits idly by, congratulating yourself on your decency, while the monster eats his fill. At least a monster has teeth and a spine.”

“But if you couldn’t open a door, you just had to make a new one.”

“You’re not weak because you can’t read. You’re weak because you’re afraid of people seeing your weakness. You’re letting shame decide who you are. […] It’s shame that lines my pockets, shame that keeps the Barrel teeming with fools ready to put on a mask just so they can have what they want with none the wiser about it. We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”

“She could feel the press of Kaz’s fingers against her skin, feel the bird’s wing brush of his mouth against her neck, see his dilated eyes. Two of the deadliest people the Barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both of them keeling over. But they’d tried. He’d tried. Maybe they could try again. A foolish wish, the sentimental hope of a girl who hadn’t had the firsts of her life stolen, who hadn’t ever felt Tante Heleen’s lash, who wasn’t covered in wounds and wanted by the law. Kaz would have laughed at her optimism.”

“No matter the height of the mountain, the climbing is the same.”

“But when someone does wrong, when we make mistakes, we don’t say we’re sorry. We promise to make amends.” “I will.” “Mati en sheva yelu. This action will have no echo. It means we won’t repeat the same mistakes, that we won’t continue to do harm.”

“Van Eck promised us thirty million kruge,” said Kaz. “That’s exactly what we’re going to take. With another one million for interest, expenses, and just because we can.” Wylan broke a cracker in two. “My father doesn’t have thirty million kruge lying around. Even if you took all his assets together.” “You should leave, then,” said Jesper. “We only associate with the disgraced heirs of the very finest fortunes.”

“You’re better than waffles, Matthias Helvar.” A small smile curled the Fjerdan’s lips. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean, my love.”

“A proper thief is like a proper poison, merchling. He leaves no trace.”

“She took a shaky breath. The words came like a string of gunshots, rapid-fire, as if she resented the very act of speaking them. “I didn’t know if you would come.” Kaz couldn’t blame Van Eck for that. Kaz had built that doubt in her with every cold word and small cruelty. “We’re your crew, Inej. We don’t leave our own at the mercy of merch scum.” It wasn’t the answer he wanted to give. It wasn’t the answer she wanted.

“I just don’t get it. I’ve spent my whole life hiding the things I can’t do. Why run from the amazing things you can do?”

“She felt his knuckles slide against hers. Then his hand was in her hand, his palm was pressed against her own. A tremor moved through him. Slowly, he let their fingers entwine. For a long while, they stood there, hands clasped, looking out at the gray expanse of the sea.”

“Matthias knew monsters, and one glance at Kaz Brekker had told him this was a creature who had spent too long in the dark - he’d brought something back with him when he’d crawled into the light.”

“She wouldn’t wish love on anyone. It was the guest you welcomed and then couldn’t be rid of.”

“Brick by brick. Brick by brick. I will destroy you.” It was the promise that let him sleep at night, that drove him every day, that kept Jordie’s ghost at bay. Because a quick death was too good for Pekka Rollins.”

“Kaz narrowed his eyes. “I’m not some character out of a children’s story who plays harmless pranks and steals from the rich to give to the poor.”

“Inej had once offered to teach him how to fall. “The trick is not getting knocked down,” he’d told her with a laugh. “No, Kaz,” she’d said, “the trick is in getting back up.”

“It was because she was listening so closely the she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel and deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted.”

“Our hopes rest with you, Mister Brekker. If you fail, all the world will suffer for it.” “Oh, it’s worse than that, Van Eck. If I fail, I don’t get paid.”

“This isn’t… it isn’t a trick, is it?” Her voice was smaller than she wanted it to be. The shadow of something dark moved across Kaz’s face. “If it were a trick, I’d promise you safety. I’d offer you happiness. I don’t know if that exists in the Barrel, but you’ll find none of it with me.” For some reason, those words had comforted her. Better terrible truths than kind lies. “All right,” she said. “How do we begin?” “Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he said as he led her out of the salon, “don’t ever sneak up on me again.”

“They fear you as I once feared you,” he said. “As you once feared me. We are all someone’s monster, Nina.”

“You still may die in the Dregs.” Inej’s dark eyes had glinted. “I may. But I’ll die on my feet with a knife in my hand.”

“Shame holds more value than coin ever can.”

“None of us move on without a backward look. We move on always carrying with us those we have lost.”

“You came back for me.” “I protect my investments.” Investments. “I’m glad I’m bleeding all over your shirt.”

“Why do you wear gloves, Mister Brekker?” Kaz raised a brow. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” “Each more grotesque than the last.” Kaz had heard them, too. Brekker’s hands were stained with blood. Brekker’s hands were covered in scars. Brekker had claws and not fingers because he was part demon. Brekker’s touch burned like brimstone - a single brush of his bare skin caused your flesh to wither and die. “Pick one,” Kaz said as he vanished into the night, thoughts already turning to thirty million kruge and the crew he’d need to help him get it. “They’re all true enough.”

“You have no finesse,” a gambler at the Silver Garter once said to him. “No technique.” “Sure I do,” Kaz had responded. “I practice the art of ‘pull his shirt over his head and punch till you see blood’.”

“A gambler, a convict, a wayward son, a lost Grisha, a Suli girl who had become a killer, a boy from the Barrel who had become something worse.” [...] “What bound them together? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking?”

[dancedelion]

Sleep of the Dead (part 1 / 2)

Genre: some humour, angst with a happy ending Summary: Jaskier thinks he hit rock bottom when Geralt flushed twenty years of friendship down the drain, but then he finds himself suddenly translucent and rudely walked through by a traveller. Apparently he's dead - that's certainly a new low. He needs to find out what happened, and who better to help him than the man who's made more than clear he wants nothing to do with him. ao3: Sleep of the Dead

Jaskier is reasonably certain that he is dead. The evidence is staggering: He’s got a killer headache, like from the worst kind of hangover. He’s tired and sleep of the dead sounds very appealing right now. And on top of that, a man just walked through him. So that can’t be good. And he is cold the way people get when nothing is touching them except for freezing air.

(He thought it would feel like relief. He had expected it to be a gorgeous, final, end-of-the-road sort of ending. But it’s only more – more pain, more emptiness, heavier limbs. Relief is further than a daydream away.)

How did this happen? All he remembers is going to sleep and then waking up in the forest. Only he didn’t wake up the way humans do. He blinked and then he was here, on his feet, amidst the tall-standing trees of the forest. He – appeared. Like by teleport. He would suspect it was some prank by a mage who (probably rightfully) has it out for him if it weren’t for being half translucent.

“Fucking great,” Jaskier roars at the vast forest, trying to make his voice big enough to fill the space so it can reach whatever deity is listening. “Yes, thank you! What more could we do to Jaskier after we fucked up his life and turned everything to horseshit? Oh, yes, I have the idea. Why don’t we just take it from him? He can’t have a bad life if he doesn’t have a life at all, is that what you were thinking? Hire another solution-maker, you bastards!”

So. So. So, so, so. All he needs to do is keep his cool, which should be easy, considering he’s bloody freezing. Step one after dying: Figure out your where-abouts. Should be useful to know whether he’s about to be ripped to shreds by hellhounds or worse (like running into that nincompoop from court who thought he could actually play the hurdy-gurdy better than Jaskier and died from slipping in the stables a month later).

Taking stock: Trees. Lots and lots of trees. How to categorize those? Trees more a sign of a friendly atmosphere or eternal damnation? Or are these the naughty trees, sent to be punished in the afterlife? (Can a tree commit a sin? Splurged on sunlight, now off to hell with the greedy thing?) He’ll mark it off as a maybe. What else? He’s standing on a path, which is where that rude wanderer just walked straight through him without even so much as an apology. Next to the path, a horse – woohoo, a clear score for eternal damnation. (What do you think is holding them upright? Their frail spindly legs? No! It’s undeniably the power of Satan.) And – might that lump by the road be a person? Jaskier steps a little closer, leaning over the lump.

Ah. Who else could it be but Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken and Jaskier’s fragile heart himself? There was never any question he would be in Jaskier’s afterlife. But which is it? Exquisite hell or torturous paradise? Right now, Geralt is sleeping, so it could be either option.

(Do you wish your last words to me had been different?)

Jaskier steps around Geralt and focuses on the horse.

“Roach!” he coos. “Oh, I’ve missed you. Sorry for what I just thought about horses. I meant it as a compliment, I swear! My mischievous lady.”

He lifts his hand to pet her head, but his hand glides right through her.

(You are careful with your wishes now.)

And she meekly turns her head, takes no note of him, as if he weren’t here at all. And he isn’t, is he? Maybe this is no illusion, no magic, no unknown adventure. Maybe this is the real Roach and the real Geralt and Jaskier is where he is not wanted once more. Forced to spend forever running after Geralt while he’s invisible to the Witcher. Ha! And Jaskier had thought the afterlife was supposed to be different.

(Those rare moments when you let me touch you, when I could find an adequate excuse.)

He stumbles and leans against the tree next to Geralt’s sleeping body, but he falls right through it. The ground can still hold him, but nothing else. He lets his heavy eyelids drop. Legs stuck in a tree. It’s all just a bad dream.

(Does a song still taste so sweet without the lute and with no ears but his own to hear it?)

Nothing has a presence. You can always tell when it’s close by. Years ago, Jaskier was stupid and starry-eyed. He thought he owned the world, he thought he had the future to fall for. At some point, all that hope and optimism had to make room for… nothing. When he starts to listen and stops believing, his chest hollows out.

(This is just the final step, yes? This is where he was headed. No sense in regrets.)

This is what Geralt always thought of him and his songs, all talk and no substance. Har, har, Geralt, bad bloody joke. He is no substance now, only cold air. Once Geralt wakes up, it will hurt so much more. Jaskier lets out a laboured breath that brings no relief. He liked being alive, he thinks. Even when he hated it.

(Marmalade sandwiches. Gosh, he will miss marmalade sandwiches.)

He can’t feel the ground beneath his back, but panic still readily comes to him. The tears don’t. Dreadfully sorry, no tears available at the moment. Why don’t you ask again in an eternity?

Jaskier stands up again and paces the floor around Geralt. Oh, nobody, I’m sorry, did I step on your feet? No one, may I ask for this dance? Here, have a glass of nothing. This is terrible. Jaskier won’t have anyone to talk to. He doesn’t know any ghosts, he doesn’t know the most popular ghost-social-spots, he doesn’t know ghost-etiquette. Although he could always talk to Geralt. This time, there will be no complaints. And Geralt’s responses have always been a rare commodity.

But the terrifying truth is, Jaskier has only himself for company now. No one to sigh at his antics, no one to suppress a laugh at one of his jokes. And he wants – yes, despite the tiredness weighing him down, he still wants. If he is still here, in a world he doesn’t belong in anymore, if the desperate longing is somehow strong enough to keep him here, then he won’t get to rest.

What a sensible man would do: accept it’s over. Accept his chances are up. Put those silly wants and needs into a clean box – place them there like something precious. And then bury them as deep as he can.

Jaskier has not, by any stretch of the imagination, ever been a sensible man.

He lies down next to Geralt, like in a dream, one of the good ones, and thinks about words.

He doesn’t have matter, but no matter, he doesn’t matter.

He lies and thinks about words that have content. Even nothing has meaning. But not Jaskier. He is just – gone.

       is dead air now. Literally dead. A spot of nothing.

       thinks about spirits. Don’t lose your spirit. (Don’t be one.)

       is as tangible as the songs    carried over the lands.

A hole in the world.

When         wants,    wants everything.    wants too much. Of course,    turns up empty, the way the greedy do, with their slippery hands.

The leaves rustle, and say: You have lost your grip. We have seen many fall. You are no different, helpless, unbalanced, immobilized. A nestless child.

The wild wind whispers: You are alone.

Lying in a dreamish nightmare,         watches as the moon moves across the cloudy sky.

But the tiredness doesn’t leave. It clings to     like oil, hanging at every strand of     hair, gathering in    eye sockets. It does not wash off. Tiredness, paradoxically, does not get tired.

And    is tired of wondering. And    is tired of regret.

When sleep will not come and stays away,         turns on     side and watches Geralt. At least   has this. There were times when   thought    would never see Geralt again. But here he is. Still the same way he looked all those years ago when         first became intrigued by him. Beautiful white hair, beautiful features, but tense lines on his forehead, even in his sleep. He is not restful either.

Finally, finally, after hours or minutes he rouses.         gets up, elated.

“Rise and shine, Geralt! Don’t sleep your life away. Take it from me,”    says lightly, and only because    knows Geralt can’t hear    . But Geralt jerks and rolls away in an instant, making a grab for his sword.

“Wait, can you see me?”        asks.

It’s impossible. The man on the road couldn’t. Surely a random peasant won’t be so unfazed by the appearance of a ghost that he just casually strolls through    .

“I can,” Geralt says. “And you know what that means?”

“Maybe I’m not quite as dead as previously estimated?”

“It means I’ll know where to aim.” He presses the sword closer.

“Woah, woah,” Jaskier holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Calm down. I know we didn’t part on the best of terms, but surely this is not necessary.”

“You’re not Jaskier.”

“Wha- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Jaskier isn’t dead. He wouldn’t dare. He knows I wouldn’t let him touch Roach for weeks if he died on me. You’re a doppler. An imposter. Something.”

Jaskier’s teeth gnash together. He is dead, all out of the blue. He didn’t expect this. He didn’t plan for this. He certainly didn’t choose to show up next to Geralt’s sleeping body. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he’s had a really bad fucking day.

“Go on then!” Jaskier is seething. “Put your sword through me. The only thing you’ll hurt is my feelings.”

Geralt hesitates. How courteous indeed, at least to hesitate before impaling his only friend with a sword. Or. Well. His “we’re not friends”. His “if life could give me one blessing”. His never-friend.

“So prove it,” Geralt says.

“What do you want me to say? What haven’t I put into a song that half the country has heard?”

He was proud of those songs once. Now they’re only painful reminders.

“What was the last thing I said to you?” “Really? That’s what you’re going with? Out of all things you could ask me?”

Geralt’s face twists again, in an agonizingly familiar way. He lowers his sword, but keeps it in his hand.

“Dammit, Jaskier.” “Oh, yes, that’s what you started with. You want me to give you the whole speech? Because, believe me, I have it memorized word for word.”

Geralt looks conflicted, confused, but also like he is trying desperately to hide everything away again. He takes one step toward Jaskier, and Jaskier twitches, not sure if he wants to step backwards or forwards, so he just stays.

“It’s not the sort of thing you forget.” Jaskier shrugs. “There are very, very few things that could have ever made me even look at you again,” he lies, and spreads out his arms. “It’s your lucky day.”

Geralt is still looking at him like he’s seeing a ghost – oops. Jaskier keeps forgetting.

“But you can’t be,” Geralt says, completely stiff. “That would mean that Jaskier –“

He reaches out to grab Jaskier’s wrist, but his hand glides right through it.

“No. No, you’re not him,” Geralt is nearly shouting now. He is clenching his jaw and has to turn around. He has so much presence in the world. He would leave craters, if he were ever gone. Whole cliffs.

Jaskier gives Geralt one more glance. It’s not like he really expected anything. He’s not Geralt’s problem anymore. Jaskier only really stayed because he thought Geralt would never know.

“How about the last words I said to you, then?” Jaskier says, because he knows when he is defeated. Even when it takes him twenty years to realize. “See you around, Geralt.”

He turns around and doesn’t know where to go and goes anyway. It’s colder now. There is no body to drag around, but Jaskier feels heavy. He is walking down a mountain. He can hear something shuffling in the bushes. He is alone and he can never learn from his mistakes because he is addicted to this one, even though it leaves him bleeding every time.

With every step, he feels himself fading a little more. It would take so little to just – “Wait!”

He should keep walking, but disaster smells so sweet.

Geralt is standing in the same spot, like he is frozen, but Jaskier comes back to him.

“What happened to you?” Geralt asks.

“Ah, I was just, you know, enjoying the afterlife and then I thought to myself, I’m gonna fucking haunt your ass.”

Geralt looks so unhappy and somehow, Jaskier regrets waiting for him to wake up even more now.

“I’ve known my share of vengeful spirits,” Geralt says warily.

“Melitele, Geralt, I was kidding. You’re so self-absorbed.” Kind words have grown tired, don’t find their way onto Jaskier’s lips any longer and sleep at the bottom of his stomach instead. “I know this is the last thing you want, but I need a favour.”

And he doesn’t mention that Geralt is possibly the only person who can see him and he doesn’t want to be alone.

Doesn’t mention he has dreamed of Geralt every night and thought of him every day.

Doesn’t mention he would do it all again, even with the heart ache. (He knew what he was signing up for from the start.)

“What do you want?” Geralt presses out.

Jaskier doesn’t want to be just another person who takes from Geralt, who doesn’t know how to stop giving. But he is not asking for protection or shelter or food. He is only a shadow now, in the corner of Geralt’s eye. And he doesn’t know what else to do.

“I want to know how I died. And why.”

Just let me keep you, he does not say. Just for a little bit.

Geralt sheathes his sword. “What do you remember?”

“I was headed home, I think. Maybe.” Jaskier watches Geralt’s face carefully, trying to analyse his expressions, but not quite daring to come to a definitive conclusion, seeing how badly he misread the room – or, well, the open mountain plane - the last time.

He decides to skip the reaction.

“So? Come on. Avenge me or something.”

“Really?” “It’s the least you could do. After what you said to me.”

Geralt grumbles, but he starts to pick up his bags, which Jaskier takes to assume they’re going. Which is good. Geralt will know what to do. Once they know more - (Once Geralt doesn’t feel guilty any longer -)

Roach neighs softly, and even though she might not be able to see him, Jaskier walks toward her, intending to say something.

“Get away from Roach,” Geralt calls immediately, although Jaskier was reasonably sure he hadn’t even been looking in their direction.

Jaskier starts pouting.

“You know what you did,” Geralt says.

“Can’t touch her anyway.”

Jaskier lifts his hands and backs away.

They start walking then, the Witcher and Viscount de Can’t-take-a-hint. Side by side. And it’s almost like it used to be. And it’s almost perfect – if he had a lute, if Geralt weren’t so unnaturally tense next to him, if it weren’t for the overwhelming tiredness seated deep in his bones. But all anyone would see is a lone Witcher wandering by himself. (And it’s true - Jaskier has long since been written out of that story.)

(When a humble bard

graced a ride along with

Geralt of Rivia)

   Geralt can’t look. Looking makes real. The sound is bad enough, but can be written off as a memory, an earworm, a voice in a deranged head. (Impossible to touch what he so often flinched away from.) (Impossible to hold what has always flown and flickered.)

(All those sweet, tender things Geralt never wanted.)

Jaskier is safe. Jaskier is somewhere. Jaskier has a pulse and a breath and a fluttering heartbeat.

It’s just him and Roach and a faint hallucination to keep him company. Anything else. Any other option. There are no other options.

(So much to miss when you almost have it.)

(Such a distantly warm feeling in his chest where he was once happy.)

(His worst mistake cuts deeper now.)

Jaskier is at the coast. He is playing in taverns. He is safe from Geralt. Safe.

Geralt is doing what he does. He gets scowled at in the streets. He takes a room.

Lies in a lonely bed.

Safe. Warm. Breathing.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep again. It’s simply rude at this point. After all, it’s not like I can join you.” Closes his eyes, all by himself.

“Have you never heard of ‘no rest for the wicked’?”

Safe. Warm. Breathing.

“So how is the mourning going? Maybe you should start wearing black. Oh, wait.”

Sleep makes it go away, for a little bit. Guilt he doesn’t know how not to feel. Regret, his most cherished companion. His… (safe.)

(He must be.)

Waking to a nightmare. Geralt does what he does. He sharpens his sword.

“Am I just supposed to sit here and watch you make the same hand motion over and over? Not gonna lie, I’m a little starved for entertainment here in ghost-land.”

Geralt lays a book open on the table, for no particular reason at all. At random times, he turns the page.

(Still whole.)

(He must be.)

A monster to hunt, that’s what he does.

“Oh my, finally I can see one of your hunts from the premium seat.”

Geralt talks to himself sometimes.

“It’s a hunt, not a performance.”

“You really haven’t seen yourself, have you?”

A group of rotfiends. Looking dead, rotten flesh hanging off their bodies. Necrophage oil coats Geralt’s sword.

“Geralt! Watch out!”

He twirls around, takes off the head of one that was about to lurch at him. Geralt keeps moving, slicing his way through more, but they get up again, stubbornly hard to kill.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

A shriek, the rotfiend is about to miss him, but right behind him is… Geralt twists his body, ensures the rotfiend doesn’t miss. It manages to scratch his chest before he kills it too.

“Why, by the Gods, did you do that?”

Only one left now. He kills that one too. Does what he does.

“How is your furniture doing? Because I suspect very strongly that you have got more than one screw loose.”

He wipes the blood and oil off his sword and sheathes it.

“Are you a squirrel? No? Then how come you are behaving like such a nutter?”

Geralt starts walking, grits his teeth. He’ll have to tend to the wounds back at the tavern.

“I’m dead! I’m literally dead, gone, pushing daisies, bit the dust. It’s a little late for the sacrifice game, understood?”

He arrives alone, with a rotfiend head for proof. Gets disgusted looks in the tavern.

“What were you even thinking? Melitele forbid Jaskier gets stumbled through by a rotfiend? How will I ever live with myself knowing I let a rotfiend unknowingly touch the same air as my deceased friend? What is wrong with you?”

“I’ve done what you asked,” Geralt says.

The man who hired Geralt slides over a bag of coin. Geralt doesn’t count.

Safe. Warm. Breathing. Somewhere far away from monsters and witchers and a life not suited to humans who are far too fragile, who have lives far too short…

(He has never known a vengeful spirit like…)

On his own, he goes to his room. There is no one to tend to his wounds but himself.

[ryuumarsart]

My Evil!Pink AU. This is an old headcanon, now AU, from around the time "The Trial" came out. It was mostly me ignoring all the signs that Rose was Pink Diamond and shamelessly making Peridot the main character lol. This is centered around my old belief that Yellow Diamond was the one who shattered Pink...but in self-defense. I predicted (correctly) that Pink suffered abuse from the other Diamonds, being constantly put down and punished for her child-like nature. After a long fight for her own colony and to finally have a chance to prove herself, she does get one. And it goes terribly. She initially wants to give the colony a little more freedom to run itself, wanting to distance herself from the other Diamonds. However, the others don't approve of this method and forced her to double down on her control. This led to a growing sense of discontent channeled by one of her own creations, a Rose Quartz who she trusted and has now turned against her. This rebellion is yet another failure by Pink and one that she cannot fix on her own, leading to Yellow . Yellow does not hide her disappointment of Pink and openly chastises her in front of her own court. Blue meanwhile guilt trips Pink and emotionally manipulates her along the lines of "Why do you do this to us?" and "You wanted this. I should have seen that you weren't ready, but you insisted." Being in the middle of a WAR, Pink encounters a large amount of trauma, such as an instance where a fringe group of the rebellion attempted to assassinate her and she started becoming paranoid, expecting an attack at any time. Pink's resentment of others and cynicism grew, especially that of Yellow. She was increasingly violent on the battlefield, even brutally shattering a large fusion (which definitely reminded her of Yellow), contributing to Garnet's view of Pink as a merciless monster. She eventually comes to the conclusion that she wouldn't have to feel so ashamed, feel so fearful if Yellow wasn't there. If Yellow was shattered by the rebellion, they would finally retreat and the other Diamonds would retaliate against the rebellion rather than blaming her. (Some very flawed reasoning but it fits canon Pink's terrible life choices lol) In a similar way as described in The Trial, Pink leads Yellow away from others and attempts to shatter her, but Yellow easily overpowers her and accidentally shatters her. Pink states that "You didn't even hesitate?" showing how convinced she is that Yellow hates her. Yellow feels intense grief and guilt for this, but doesn't want to taint Blue's memory of the precious, young Pink. She places the blame on Rose, who accepts and runs with this narrative for her cause (who may still be morally grey as she witnessed the ordeal and did nothing to stop it). And White is there I guess?? At the time of this headcanon, I thought White was the fusion of Pink, Blue, and Yellow so she doesn't have a big role. Pink goes to the afterlife, which is a gray wasteland (see above) where gems who have unfinished business in the living world wander with holes where their gems would be. If their unfinished business gets resolved, they disappear, moving on. Meanwhile on Earth, everything goes as normal except Lapis has been training Peridot to use her metal powers. I mean, they're both telekinetic powers so they should work similarly. Plus, Lapidot is my heart and soul so I'll take any excuse for them to be closer (it's canon in this AU). Peridot wants to go on missions with the others, but keeps being swept aside due to her physical weakness and inexperience with her powers. However at some point (maybe after the Rubies and them go to the moon??) a group of Homeworld gems come to either as a Jasper rescue team 2.0 or as retribution for stuff Steven does in space. Garnet decides to bring everyone on board to defend Earth, including Peridot and Lapis. I haven't decided what gems actually show up but maybe some more quartz gems?? Either way, the threat is big enough for the team that Garnet seems visibly concerned. They win the fight, but at a cost. Peridot sacrifices herself in battle and is shattered. Having built a friendship with the entire team, her death absolutely wrecks everyone. Steven desperately tries to heal her, but fails. In her grief, Lapis almost shatters the Homeworld gems, but Steven stops her. She falls into a deep depression and refuses to leave the barn, instead spending her days holding onto Peridot's shards. Amethyst confronts Garnet about how this evaded her future vision and why she would bring Peridot if she would die. Garnet snaps and says "If I didn't bring them, it would have been one of us!" Amethyst becomes furious and yells that Peridot is one of them. She and Pearl give her the cold shoulder and refuse to hear her out. (This is mostly because I feel like Garnet never has a moment where she messes up and everyone is mad at her. She's always right and that made her boring to me) Steven later learns that Garnet saw that if she didn't bring Lapis and Peridot, it was almost impossible to win the fight without someone being shattered. However, if they came, there was more of a chance of losing no one, but their lives would be at risk. She had a hard choice to make, and it didn't work out. There would be a whole arc of everyone confronting their grief and comforting each other. In the end, Garnet is forgiven and Lapis decides to move into the temple, becoming closer to main cast. She literally lets go of Peridot, putting her shards with the other bubbled gems. In the last part of the arc, Steven visits Peridot's bubble and recalls how much of an impact she had and tells her to not worry, everyone will be okay. Also, he opens up about his guilt of not being able to bring her back. However, it seems like there are fewer shards and the pieces have gotten bigger. He attributes this to denial and looking for something that isn't there. Nonetheless, he visits again a few days later and realizes that it wasn't denial, the gem is being put back together. Peridot's gem still has large cracks filled in by his healing tears, but it is pretty much healed. He and the other gems pop her bubble, but something goes wrong when she tries to reform. Chunks of her body are missing, most notably half of her face. She can't walk or move as well as before, but everyone is overjoyed to have her back. She is also missing some memories from the cracks in her gem. Lapis is extremely protective of her and will not let her so much as walk without her there. Amethyst, on the other hand, wants to go back to having fun and going on missions. Peridot forces a compromise where she can go out to the barn and the town, but only with escorts. She tests if her metal powers still work by trying to lift a can. Unbeknownst to her at first, she accidentally lifts most of the barn. Her powers are greatly heightened, but to an almost uncontrollable level. Eventually she convinces the other gems to let her on a mission to the strawberry battlefield to retrieve more weapons or something. Upon arriving, she immediately has a terrible seizure, yelling "Please STOP!!" and "Please! One at a time!". She is brought back into the afterlife, where many gems are clamoring for her attention to resolve their unfinished business. After calming down the crowd, she speaks to a gem who was shattered on the battlefield, but whose shards were never found. Peridot awakens and point the gems to the hidden shards, giving peace to the shattered gem. She soon realizes how much of a curse this connection to the afterlife is as she cannot go into a battlefield without tons of gems asking for peace and overwhelming her, or hold a conversation with Pearl or Garnet without them asking about a past loved one. She even learns that Rose did this once before, but the gem she healed was so miserable that she had to keep it bubbled...yayyy. It becomes much worse when Pink finds her. Peridot had been successfully fighting off the other shattered gems trying to control her, but Pink is too strong for her. Pink is able to possess her, using Peridot's body to finally live again, to the horror of the other gems. Pink introduces herself to Steven and the others and claims that she was wrongly killed. After all, she was only doing what the other diamonds were telling her to do. She had to fight against the rebellion. Even if she ruled over the colony and fought in the war, did that mean she deserved to die? Surely the least Steven could do to right his mother's wrongs would to bring her back to life and finally get the diamonds to leave Earth alone. The other gems of course don't trust her and don't want to bring another diamond into the world; even Peridot objects, feeling like there was a reason that the other gems in the afterlife feared her. Pink senses Steven's hesitation and repeatedly takes over Peridot's body, torturing her day by day while insisting that she is only doing what she must to reunite with her family. Peridot insists that he shouldn't do this for her sake and that she doesn't matter; she definitely says at some point that "Some things are better left dead, Steven!!". This isn't enough though as Steven caves in and meets with the diamonds. Pink possesses Peridot to talk with them, verbally torturing Yellow and insisting that she tell Blue "what she did". Yellow deflects and tries to convince Blue not to bring her back, but unable to persuade her without also revealing the truth. Steven heals Pink, but her gem was even more shattered than Peridot's, causing her form to be more mangled and distorted. Also, her powers are much stronger and she doesn't hesitate to fight Yellow. However, she overestimated her ability and the diamonds escape. Pink regains her old armies (including the Jaspers and Rose Quartzes) and tries to turn the other diamond's gems against them. (This is where things get messy as I haven't completely thought them through) Pink isolates Yellow and surprises her, killing her quickly and "not hesitating, just like you". White and Blue try to reason with her, but to no avail. Pink's armies overwhelm them and they are both shattered. Pink declares herself sole ruler of the gem empire, but is stopped as she feels herself losing control. The other diamonds fight her from the afterlife to take over her body and force her to shatter herself. The war is finally over, but the colonies are left to recover with no leaders and the aftermath of Pink's rule. The crystal gems and the rebels throughout the universe have to work to reform gem society and fix the damage the diamonds have done. Or something like that. tl;dr Pink was traumatized by the gem war and tried to kill Yellow, but Yellow shattered her instead. Pink blackmails Steven from the afterlife into bringing her back to life and letting her get revenge by using Peridot, who was shattered and healed. All the diamonds end up dying and the universe is freed from their tyranny.

[wild3flow3r]

TWO

“How long have you been here, Moira?”

“Just short of five years,” Moira answers as she straightens out the sheets on Persephone’s bed.

Persephone stands to the side of the room in front of a mirror, braiding her hair. She has figured out in the last few days that if she wants to have a conversation with Moira then she has to be the one asking the questions and give up information about herself without being asked for it back. She doesn’t mind it, really. Although she feels more comfortable wandering around the castle since Hades gave her that tour four days ago, Moira is still the only one Persephone speaks to on a daily basis. Unless you would count the notes Hades has been leaving for her every night wishing her the sweetest of dreams.

“Why are you stuck here then as a spirit doing housework rather than another part of the Underworld?”

Another great thing about Moira, she always answered Persephone with the complete and honest truth.

“When I left the world above to come down here I didn’t leave on the best of terms. My crimes were very minor and did not deserve the Mourning Fields, at least that’s how Lord Hades had phrased it. He offered me a chance to stay in the castle and work in exchange that I may one day be born again in the world above. It’s a very good deal, and very few are actually offered it.”

“How long must you work here then?”

“Three hundred years.”

Persephone turns around and looks at Moira with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t that quite a long time?”

Moira shakes her head as she presses out the last of the wrinkles in the sheets. “I don’t think so, not compared with the eternity of mourning I could have gone through instead.”

Persephone nods thoughtfully. She thinks about asking Moira of her crimes, knowing that she would get the answer, but instead decides that would be going too far. At least this early in their friendship.

“Do you like working here?”

“Lord Hades is ever so generous. To me and all of the other spirits. He treats us very kindly unlike other Gods and Goddesses we have encountered down here from time to time.”

Persephone adjusts her tunic. Since she hadn’t had time to pack any of her own before she came down here, Moira has been making her some. She had a variety of colors to work with, but they all tended to be darker shades of the spectrum. The dark red one she’s wearing currently reminds her of the dahlias her mother had taught her how to grow. The sandals she’s wearing are the same color.

“I don’t plan on being away from the room for too long today. But I do hope you have a good day, Moira.”

“And you, milady.” Moira opens the doors for her.

Persephone grazes her fingertips against the walls as she slowly strolls through the hallways. To be frank, she still isn’t entirely sure where everything is, but day by day she has been able to map out a few of her favorite spots in her head. Every day she takes a new route that she hasn’t gone before, and every day is like a new adventure for her.

Coming up to her left, she spots an archway with the green fire lighting up the room brighter than any other room she has been in. She slows her steps in front of it before peeking her head around the opening. A side entrance to Hades' throne room. Spirits littered all around the room, some forming a line in front of the throne.

The throne itself stood about a dozen feet off the ground with a small staircase wrapping around the base of it, spiraling until it met the chair. The back of it rose up several more feet with spikes peeking out at the top. It looked to have been made up of black diamonds. It didn’t look exactly comfortable to Persephone, but Hades lounged in the chair without a problem.

Hades' curls framed his face, a few falling in front of his eyes and the rest held back by a metallic crown of sorts. His black tunic reaches all the way down to his ankles. He held his weapon of choice in one of his hands, the bident. He’s staring down intently below him, and only then does Persephone realize he’s holding court. A spirit below him is making his case on where he believes he should be sent in his afterlife.

“You’ve been here three times past, Adrian. Unfortunately my decision has been made. You must go to the Mourning Fields for-”

“But Lord Hades!” Adrian speaks out, making his voice louder than the king's.

Persephone takes a step back. She’s seen this type of scene one too many times before with Zeus on Olympus. Nobody dare disrupt the king, unless you want to be struck with lightning ten thousand times over. Persephone doesn’t even know what Hades could do to the man. He could kill him just to bring him back to life just to kill him all over again. He could send the man to Tartarus where this man would be torn apart by the Titans trapped down there. He could-

“Adrian, please. You treated your wife very poorly on the ground above. You don’t deserve the Elysium Fields, nor do you deserve a spot on my staff to work off a debt.”

-respond calmly?

“My wife forgave me for my misgivings. I stayed faithful to her after the first mishap.”

“You forget, Adrian.” Hades stands, holding his bident tightly to his side. “Just because your wife believes that does not mean I do.”

“If I could come back-”

Hades waves a hand in a dismissive nature. “You can come back day and day again, but my answer will never change. I am done with court today. We will resume first thing tomorrow.”

Hades watches as spirits slowly start to filter out of the room. Persephone stays half hidden in the archway to his left. When most spirits are gone, Persephone makes to leave but only gets in one step before she’s stopped.

“You don’t have to hide, you know. You’re allowed in here at anytime, no matter what’s happening.”

Persephone’s cheeks redden, reluctantly taking a step into the room although she knew she had to now that she’d been caught. Heavy doors clang shut once the last spirit has left the room.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother at all.” Hades takes slow steps down from his throne.

Persephone bites her lip, unsure whether or not to speak up. When Hades stands only a few feet away from her he looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What is it that’s on your mind?”

“Why don’t you just force that man to go to the Mourning Field? Zeus wouldn’t let that man come back once.”

Hades nods thoughtfully. He walks to the side to put his bident away in a glass case. “It’s better when they move on on their own terms. Sooner or later, he’ll accept the ruling and go. Until then, I’ll just have to deal with him in my court.”

“That’s… different,” Persephone adds slowly. “Most of the other Gods don’t have the patience. None of them, actually.”

“I do pride myself on being different than my brothers and their families.”

“The other spirits here, they were also waiting for a ruling?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t… Well… If you stopped court because you noticed me watching you didn’t need to.”

Hades shakes his head, an amused smile playing across his lips. “I will admit, you being here was a nice excuse to end for the day. But death never stops and this room will always be filled no matter how many hours a day I spend here.”

“Well I should… I don’t want to bother you anymore-”

He silences her with one solemn look. “As I said before, you aren’t a bother. I wish you would stop seeing yourself as such.”

“I… I’m sorry.” Peresphone looks down. Her cheeks are flushed and her hands are clenched together behind her back. She almost feels like she wants to cry, and she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t really know what she’s apologizing for either. But his words made her feel some type of disappointment in herself.

Hades lets out the softest of sighs. She peeks up at him through the few strands of hair that have fallen in front of her face. He smiles, gently, and beckons her towards him. She takes a tentative step forward, and then another when he beckons her again, up until she’s standing right in front of him. He cups her cheek with his palm and keeps her face looking towards his.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You tiptoe around me as if at any minute I could explode. I’ll admit that at times I’m not the most patient of Gods, but I’d never take any anger out on you. You’re worth more than you let yourself believe, or what your mother let you believe.”

Persephone bites her lip. Again she feels like crying. She says nothing in response, she doesn’t know what she could say. Like he could feel her emotions, or probably see them playing right along her face, he changes the subject.

He shifts them so he can wrap an arm around her shoulders and then leads her out of the room the way she’d come. “Come along. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

***

Persephone’s hands are covered in dirt. Her tunic is stained with it. With each new batch of flowers that release from the dirt and grow tall by the powers from her hands, it becomes a little easier for her to breathe down here.

Hades’, or Harry as he’s reminded her, surprise was a decent sized patch of dirt right outside the back of the castle. At first she didn’t understand what was such a surprise about this? But then he told her it was hers to decorate as she pleased. Her very own garden.

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been here. Time has been hard for Persephone to track while down here, relying on the times of her meals to let her know what time of day it is, but Harry hasn’t interrupted her since she started. At first, he watched her with intent and interested eyes as she brought life from the ground. A God constantly surrounded by death, Persephone wonders if he’s ever seen life enter this world at all, in any form. But once she started moving around more, skipping from one end of the garden to the other with flowers sprouting up everywhere her toes touched, Harry wandered away from her. He took time with every batch of flowers she created. He felt them, smelled them, studied their colors and the way they were shaped. Persephone had to admit, she found it quite endearing.

“What you do is… beautiful,” Harry admits as he comes up to Persephone from behind. She just finished a batch of sunflowers and was looking around for an empty spot. She couldn’t find one.

Persephone shrugs. “It’s not much, compared to what the other Gods and Goddesses can do.”

“It’s everything.” Harry tells her instead and takes the spot next to her, looking over her work as she was now. “Life isn’t worth living without some sort of beauty in it, and you help create that.”

Persephone flushes. “You’re too kind.”

Hades looks down at her, a soft look in his eyes. “I’d say I’m not being kind enough. The word beautiful doesn’t feel eloquent enough for what I just witnessed, but it’s the only one that can come to mind.”

“I didn’t think I’d fill it up this quickly.”

“I’ll send some spirits to add an extension onto it later.”

“No, there’s no need. I can work with this space.”

“I’ve got the extra land, Persephone, just waiting to be used. It should go to you.”

“Well, thank you.”

Harry grins, his smile almost blinding. “Let’s head in now, yeah? It’s gotten quite late and you haven’t eaten yet.” He holds out his hand, and Persephone takes it without a second thought. With each minute, she was feeling more comfortable around him.

He leads her back into the castle, and then back into her room. She thought maybe they’d eat together, but then realizes she’s probably taken up too much of his time today already with all the work she’s done in the garden. Still, disappointment clings to the sides of her stomach.

Moira opens the bedroom door from the other side, but Persephone doesn’t move when Harry lets go of her hand.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?”

Harry’s lips tilt up into a smirk and his eyes light with mischief. “If you can find me.”

“Is that a challenge? Just so you know, I’m a natural born winner.”

Harry laughs, an actual full belly laugh. It echoes throughout the quiet halls. Persephone nearly explodes on the spot. She doesn’t know what caused her to speak like that, so boldly compared to how shy she’s been for most of the day. But it’s all worth it to her now.

He leans forwards so they're eye level. His mouth is only a few inches away from hers. It knocks the breath of of Persephone, having his eyes shining right into hers. She thinks he’s going to kiss her. She wouldn’t say no. She’d swim in the memory of this kiss for days, months even.

“We’ll see about that,” he whispers. Then he stands up straight, grinning at Persephone’s open mouthed look. He laughs again and winks, before turning away and leaving her there dumbstruck.

She would win. Persephone would always win, because she knows as much as Harry would enjoy the competition, he’d enjoy being in her presence even more. So he could try holding out for as long as he could, hide away in the shadows where she couldn’t see, but always, he’d make himself known. But really, weren’t they both winning at that point?

~

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[theheadlessgroom]

Tagged by: @arachnofille Tagging: All who’d like to do it!

—    BASICS.

▸     IS  YOUR  MUSE  TALL  /  SHORT  /  AVERAGE? Randall’s pretty short; he’s 4′12 even when he’s not hunched over, as he usually is when he’s performing his little trick for the mortals.

▸      ARE  THEY  OKAY  WITH  THEIR  HEIGHT ? For the most part, Randall’s alright with it-taking potshots at his height is not advised, however, he will not appreciate that. This can include teasing him about trying to reach something on a top shelf, or being shorter than his fellow spooks, up to and including his wife.

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE? When he was alive, it was jet-black, curly, and near-impossible to tame on any given day-both of his parents had curly hair, so Randall got the double-whammy on that front. These days, his hair’s a bit thinner and a little more stringy and frizzy than curly, and has grayed considerably.

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    GROOMING?

Not a whole lot-Randall’s not too concerned with grooming, and it might be something of a holdover from his mortal days, when he had to hop out of bed and get dressed and get out the door in a timely fashion, and even though he has more time to be leisurely these days, he still takes very little time-he gets dressed, brushes his hair and teeth (gotta make sure that gold tooth shines when he grimly grins!), and calls it good.

▸      DOES  YOUR  MUSE  CARE  ABOUT  THEIR  APPEARANCE  /  WHAT  OTHERS  THINK ?

Randall’s self-esteem when it comes to his appearance is...lacking, to say the least: He never thought of him as a looker in life, and less so in death, and knows there’s not a lot he can do about fixing his ghoulish appearance (while it scores him screams, he still sort of wishes he was a little less spooky-looking), so he just lets it go, and tries to act like it doesn’t bother him. 

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS  OR  OUTDOORS? Most of the time, Randall prefers to be indoors, usually tucked away in his room in the attic or hanging around the ballroom, but if the weather’s nice enough, he’ll venture out to the graveyard, and quietly join in the ghostly merriment down there. He’s not one to balk at the heat (he grew up in New Orleans, after all), so even on a hot summer day, one may find him sitting beneath an old oak tree, making idle chit-chat with his fellow spirits.

▸     RAIN  OR  SUNSHINE? For all his comfort in the sun, Randall does much prefer the rain: A good, powerful downpour, with thunder and lightning aplenty, the sort of weather that rattles windowpanes and sends damp chills through the walls and rumbles the roof above him. It’s his theory that being a ghost makes you fond of the spookier things in the world, and that includes storms.

▸     FOREST  OR  BEACH?   Defidently the beach; it comes from being both from New Orleans and ‘living’ (ha!) in California, Randall is much more partial to the sand and surf-he enjoys swimming and fishing more than anything else, however.

▸     PRECIOUS  METALS  OR  GEMS? Randall doesn’t seriously care for either, but if you were to twist his arm, he might be more inclined to lean more towards precious metals-his eye’s never really been caught by gemstones, perhaps as evidenced by the very simple wedding bands he worked himself to the bone to buy for himself and his bride. To him, simple is just sometimes better.

▸     FLOWERS  OR  PERFUMES? Tough choice, but Randall might lean towards perfumes-he’s quite fond of flowers (mostly roses, such as the ones his mother planted at Gracey Manor), but he could never grow tired of Emily’s elegant perfume dizzying him with love. There’s still a bottle of it sitting on the couple’s boudoir in their room, and every now and again, Randall will spritz a little into the air, just to get that smell of her again.

▸     PERSONALITY  OR  APPEARANCE? Personality all the way-while it was Emily’s almost-angelic appearance that caught his eye initially, it was her kind and gentle spirit that really made Randall fall head over heels for her. She’s compassionate and open-minded, big-hearted and sweet, and in just being herself, he was infatuated. 

▸     BEING  ALONE  OR  BEING  IN  A  CROWD? Somewhere in between, admittedly: While being completely and utterly alone terrifies Randall to no end (shades of his banishment), he’s also not wholly comfortable being in a crowd either, and prefers something in between, preferring to be with a few close friends in a smaller room.

▸     ORDER  OR  ANARCHY? One might assume anarchy, solely because of the state of disarray that is his room (to say nothing of the attic), but Randall does prefer some semblance of order. Gracey Manor is a riot of colorful characters and weird happenings, so ‘order’ isn’t exactly in their vocabulary, but Randall tries to find a little orderliness where he can, even in his mess of a room. To him, it’s ‘controlled chaos’, and while it may look messy to others, he can find anything in it.

▸     PAINFUL  TRUTHS  OR  WHITE  LIES?   Painful truths-Randall’s really not one to lie, and though he knows the truth hurts, he’d prefer to get it over with than cover it up with lies. He’s only really lied when it’s been absolutely necessary (such as when he and Emily were courting, and had to keep their relationship under wraps).

▸     SCIENCE  OR  MAGIC? Randall tends to lean more towards the latter: He didn’t exactly learn a whole lot of science growing up (it wasn’t something his mother, who acted as his teacher, was well-versed in, outside of the sciences of good gardening and cooking), and the subject is still very foreign to him (though he doesn’t mind listening to someone explain something to him). Magic, on the other hand, he is somewhat more inclined to believe in, partly because of his upbringing reading Irish fables, full of tales of the fair folk and fish people, and partly because he is a ghost, and the magic of the mansion’s Madame Leota is all around him.

▸     PEACE  OR  CONFLICT?   Peace, preferably. Randall likes the quiet (after)life, he tries to avoid conflict where he can, and enjoys relaxed days where he isn’t confronted by people who generally loathe his very presence. He faced far too much conflict growing up and working in New Orleans, dealing with people who were insulted to see a half-Irishman working behind the counter, and he still has to put up with a degree of conflict thanks to Constance. If he could have it his way, he and Emily would be enjoying a quiet afterlife in their attic home together, where they can be together in peace.

▸     NIGHT  OR  DAY? Night, easily: Randall is a night owl, for better or worse, and he enjoys the peace and quiet of the darkness, when the moon is full and the stars are out. It brings a respite from a long day, and he likes to take that time to wind down after a long day of terrifying mortals. Nighttime is also the time that Gracey Manor really comes alive (pun intended), and if he feels up to it, Randall will spend time in the ballroom or the graveyard, surrounded by his fellow spirits.

▸     DUSK  OR  DAWN?

Although he is a night owl, and enjoys the nighttime, as mentioned above, there is something Randall really does like those calm, slow mornings, when he and Emily would lie in each other’s arms, sunlight trickling in between the curtains, and they’d just bask in one another’s presence. He misses those mornings, the gentle rhythm of Emily’s heartbeat waking him up, and he would see her lying there beside him, golden eyes aglow as she smiled and wished him a good morning before leaning in to kiss him.

▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ?

Warmth: Being a ghost means you’re cold nearly all the time, and while Gracey Manor may contain ‘hot-and-cold-running chills’, Randall prefers the heat. It’s the one thing he doesn’t particularly like about being what he is, and whenever he has the chance to get warm, he’ll happily take it. Plus, it takes him back to those hot, sunny days of living in Louisiana, which fills him with a little bit of nostalgia.

▸     MANY  ACQUAINTANCES  OR  A  FEW  CLOSE  FRIENDS? A few close friends. Randall is acquaintances with many of the spirits in the Mansion, but he really does prefer to be close with only a small handful of them, those he’s truly comfortable around. It’s not that he doesn’t like his housemates, far from it (save for a certain black widow), he just likes keeping the few truly, truly good friends close.

▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME? Reading, admittedly: While he may not be the strongest of readers, he really enjoys a good story, and will take the time to read a good old-fashioned ghost story when he has the downtime. He likes a good game too, but he just does prefer reading to playing.

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS?

Randall has a relatively hair-trigger temper, and although he does his best to keep it in check, sometimes he simply can’t and will immediately lash out verbally and occasionally physically (mainly by throwing a punch or swinging his cane). He also has the bad habit of closing himself off, bottling his feelings up, and can be very reluctant to open up to people, even when he’s at his wits end.

▸      HAS  YOUR  MUSE  LOST  ANYONE  CLOSE  TO  THEM?  HOW  HAS  IT  EFFECTED   THEM?

Randall has experienced quite a few losses in his life, starting with his father, who died in a boating accident when he was three. His father, though loving and well-meaning, struggled with alcoholism, and it was a contributing factor to his death, leading to Randall’s refusal to drink. Some thirty years later, he lost his mother to scarlet fever, and considering she was his sole parental figure for all these years, it was a huge blow to him. Lastly, in a sense, he’s lost his wife-when he returned to the Mansion after years of absence, he found not Emily in the attic, but Constance, and that has been an extremely hard adjustment for him.

▸      WHAT  ARE  SOME  FOND  MEMORIES  YOUR  MUSE  HAS?

Plenty: Playing with Dorian in their youth, spending time with his mother when life was a little easier, his courtship and marriage to Emily, spending time with his friends at the Mansion, these are all happy memories he looks back on with great fondness.

▸     IS  IT  EASY  FOR  YOUR  MUSE  TO  KILL?

Not at all: Despite his bad temper and willingness to throw a punch, Randall refuses to kill. He does not want to be like the man who murdered him, Nicholas Pennyworth, nor like the Black Widow Bride, Constance Hatchaway, two people he truly despises in the world. If he can help it, he refuses to be a murderer. Only if he really, truly had to (such as while protecting a loved one) would he do it, and even then, it would be hard for him.

▸      WHAT’S  IT  LIKE  WHEN  YOUR  MUSE  BREAKS  DOWN?

When Randall breaks down, he breaks down hard: He sobs, he can barely speak, he shivers and shudders and feels like he wants to scream his head off, but he can’t bring himself to. This usually happens when he can no longer bottle his feelings up, and everything comes pouring out of him, and usually when he’s alone. He usually tries to hide these outbursts from others, not wanting them to see him in such a state.

▸      IS  YOUR  MUSE  CAPABLE  OF  TRUSTING  SOMEONE  WITH  THEIR  LIFE?

These days, Randall doesn’t exactly have a life to entrust in someone, and when he did, he didn’t really have anyone to entrust it to. If he did, however, he’d likely choose Dorian Gracey and Beauregard Ghast-he’s very close to the both of them, and he trusts that they’d look out for him.

▸      WHAT’S  YOUR  MUSE  LIKE  WHEN  THEY’RE  IN  LOVE?

Randall isn’t exactly...subtle when he’s in love: For a man who is very shy about PDA, he is really quite obvious in his attraction to his wife; tripping over his words, insisting upon doing things for her/bringing things to her, and just generally gazing at her with a lovesick glow to his eyes. It’s been centuries since they met and married, and she still makes him feel like a schoolboy experiencing his first crush.

[gloryblooded]

with a gif of achilles/austin being a major mood ( i mean, who doesn’t want to nap all the time ? ), i hope to catch your attention & say HELLO !   i’m hanna, i’m 22, and i use she/her pronouns! i’m a hufflepuff, a libra, and ISFJ ( what a shocking combo, i know ). anyway, over here i’ll be playing everyone’s favorite disaster hero, achilles, and his new mortal self, austin pelham. i’m so excited for this group and getting to write & plot with all of you. 

anyway, below the cut you’ll find some info about both achilles and austin ! it got kinda lengthy ( especially achilles’ part ) + it’s messily written. sdfsfdsdhsfbh im truly sry about that & pls still love us.

ACHILLES.

disclaimer: i’ve utilized several sources to form my portrayal of achilles, namely the iliad and the song of achilles. i have not read the pjo books, but i googled achilles’ role in it & i’ll incorporate that to my characterization to the best of my abilities.

so, achilles. a son of peleus, a king, and thetis, a nereid. boy was destined for greatness long before he was even conceived; great enough that the gods chose to dilute it by giving thetis to a mortal man. despite this, his destiny was to still become the greatest warrior of his generation. thetis, wanting to further protect him, dipped him in the river styx and boom, the powers of almost complete invulnerability ( except that one heel ) were achilles’. 

his childhood was actually quite lonely? sure, he had peleus’ orphan boys to keep him company & plenty of admirers, but there was always a certain distance between them, especially he had separate, private lessons. that is until a certain awkward young prince arrived in peleus’ court. achilles was instantly smitten ( a shoutout to that time when he became that ‘g2g chicken’ meme after their first kiss ) and this feeling just became stronger through the years as they studied under chiron’s tutelage at mount pelion. 

AND THAT’S IT. NOTHING HAPPENED AFTER THAT. ACHILLES GOT HIS HAPPY ENDING.

just kidding. unfortunately :sob emoji:

tHEN PARIS HAD TO DO HIS THING AND RUIN ACHILLES’ HAPPINESS ( thanks a lot dude ). the war started and, despite the ordeal with thetis where achilles was yeeted to lycodemes’ court & ended up knocking up deidamia, he was off to fight in the trojan war ( with his emotional support philtatos right by his side ).

during his years there, he does his thing. he fights, kills more trojans and their allies than anyone else, is a great leader to his men, and spends his free time with his boyfriend. also i wanted to add that he was not as hostile toward briseis as he was in tsoa. like, ofc they weren’t as close as patrochilles or pat and bri, but he wasn’t as jealous as implied in tsoa. 

anyway, now we’re getting closer to that period of time. stuff goes fairly normally, but then aging meninist ( idk how to spell his name & im too lazy to look it up, but u know who i mean ) decides to dishonor him by unlawfully taking briseis from him. and oh boy, do we get to see achilles’ non-chill side. victim-playing & stubborn spite game is strong af. someone tries to reason with him? he becomes that ‘i suddenly can’t read i don’t know’ gif. 

anyway, shit turns bad enough that he eventually, although reluctantly, consents to patroclus donning his armor and leading the myrmidons out there. that obvs ends super badly and achilles, true to himself, reacts even worse. he goes ballistic and even fights a river before he finally gets what he wants --- hector dead. after that, he stops caring. he fights, sure, but every single time he wishes his death would come. death eludes him for a while after that, and when it finally arrives & that arrow lodges itself in his heel, achilles vc: finally some good fucking food.

except sike, not ! his bitchass of a son delays the reunion he’s been yearning for. achilles curses him & 100% disowns him because he dared to disrespect his final wish. bUT EVENTUALLY HIS PERSON ARRIVED AND ACHILLES WAS SO !!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE ALL WAS FINALLY GOOD. achilles got a good dose of positive character development bc he realizes the error of his ways when he was alive, but most importantly, he never had to part with his one true love.

until the gods got themselves into another mess & dragged other, innocent people with them. smh ( uncle sam and/or the gods better square up when achilles regains his memories bc how dare they interrupt his lovely afterlife with pat!!!! )

AUSTIN.

so, enter the man achilles thinks he now is: austin pelham. his full name is austin alexander pelham-niarchos, but for the sake of simplicity, he goes by austin pelham most days. he is the only child of us army general & greek heiress to a shipping empire. not really a happy marriage, but they wouldn’t divorce either. both adored austin, though, so the boy didn’t pay too much attention to his parents’ marital struggles.

austin’s future was laid out from a young age too. he was to follow in his father’s footsteps and become an army official as well, possibly one of the greatest this nation had ever seen. considering his natural athleticism and gift for commanding crowds, it seemed a feasible future path & austin himself accepted it without complaining.

however, he was a mere kid when all this was told to him, so he couldn’t be too bothered. sure, he excelled in school ( his mother insisted he should only attend the best institutions ), but mostly he enjoyed the perks that came with having been born to a lap of such luxury. 

contrary to popular belief, austin had basically no true friends; sycophants and other admirers, yes, but no one he truly bonded with. he wouldn’t have minded finding such person, but they never came along & that was fine with austin. he was independent enough to “survive alone.”

so years have gone by, manhattan’s boy king has graduated from harvard with a degree in history, and it’s time for him to join the army, right? sike, no ! austin’s mother had never been particularly enthusiastic about the idea of her son joining the army & possibly getting killed in action, but this is the first time she has a major argument with her husband about it. 

before he could do anything about it, she made her move. she used her connections to get him his movie role and manipulated austin by telling him that if he were to abandon his military plans & pursue a career as an actor, he could achieve more fame than he had ever dreamed of. austin, being a trusting person, had no reason to believe otherwise, so he accepted his mother’s offer and began working as an actor.

and what a rise to stardom it was. after his role, he got more and more offers, most of which were action / war films. austin did not mind being known as an action star; those were his favorite type of movies to film anyway. recently he finished filming what is supposed to be next spring’s ( & year’s ) biggest blockbuster and now relocated back to new york city where he plans to stay for a few months at least.

personality wise, i’d say he is most similar to pre-trojan war achilles ( when he’s at mt. pelion & lycodemes’ court ). he still has that certain brand of innocence to him and fairly easy to manipulate if you know where to strike. however, he has earned a reputation of being somewhat challenging to work with ( he knows what he wants / how he wants something done & isn’t afraid to demand this respect ). this hasn’t tamed the constant flow of work offers, though, because a) he has a way with the crowd, so fans love him, b) money is guaranteed due to his large crowd of followers, and c) he always gets the job done when he sets his mind to it. slightly more prone to making bad decisions, since he doesn’t have his impulse control person. austin is often up for a good time, though, and an evening with him won’t be a boring one.

AND THAT’S ABOUT IT, I THINK ! I DON’T YET HAVE A CONNECTIONS PAGE UP, BUT I’LL START WORKING ON IT ASAP. IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS, FEEL FREE TO MSG ME BECAUSE I’M UP FOR P MUCH WHATEVER. I’LL DO MY BEST TO COME UP WITH IDEAS MYSELF & MSG YOU LOVELY PEOPLE! ugh im so excited for this group!!

[loquaciousquark]

All right, kiddos, gather around for a completely necessary metatextual analysis of the most painful sentence in the Queen’s Thief series by @meganwhalenturner​, driven primarily by my recent reread and the fact that I can’t get this sentence out of my head or my heart, and that means you all must suffer with me.

Is it: “Please, please,” as if his heart were breaking.”?

Is it: “Oxe Harbrea Sacrus Vax Dragga Onus Savonus Sophos At Ere.”?

Is it: “Who am I that you should love me?”

Is it: “It was a kiss between a man and his wife...”?

NO IT IS NOT. I submit to you, dear readers, that the most painful sentence in the entire Queen’s Thief series is the following:

Attolia explained. “He had to be forcibly dissuaded from strangling his son.”

“So have we all from time to time,” Eddis said seriously.

MAN ALIVE WHAT A BLOW TO THE HEART, AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT

I see you doubt me. READ ON.

As I’m sure all of you perfectly remember, during the events of The Queen of Attolia Eugenides gets his hand cut off in gods-approved punishment by the woman he’s in love with. Awkward! More awkward is that at the end of the book, he goes through a great deal of trouble to win her hand in marriage (hoping desperately this will help convince her he loves her), only to have his gods yank the rug out from under him one more time. His war party is routed; the kidnapped queen is freed; the whole lot of them are returned to her court where the entirety of Eugenides’s surviving company are chained together and deposited wholesale on the fancy floor together to await judgement and execution. 

And then, this gem:

In the megaron Eugenides sat on the stone floor with his knees pulled up, leaning back against a red painted pillar. His eyes were closed. Like the other Eddisians, he was wet through, and from time to time a shudder shook him, as if a ghost had walked over his grave. The high collar of his uniform tunic hid any marks on his neck. Teleus, standing with the queen at the side entrance to the megaron, pointed him out as he explained to the queen, with Nahuseresh standing nearby, that the lieutenant, in passing, had noticed that the Thief was quietly being strangled in the chains of the prisoner just behind him. The prisoners had been chained in rows and then ordered to sit on the stone floor. The lieutenant, in haste to save the Thief for Her Majesty’s pleasure, had kicked the other prisoner in the head.

OUCH. Not convinced yet? Let us consider even further:

“Teleus, you say your lieutenant kicked one of the prisoners in the head?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” [...]

“Well, let’s have that one, then.”

The guards brought the Eddisian she’d chosen [to deliver her message of acceptance to Eddis] to stand before her. As she’d guessed, it was the gray-haired man who’d fought beside Eugenides on the mountain.

and later:

“The messenger I sent to Eddis, you didn’t recognize him,” Attolia said.

“Should I have?” the Mede asked, his eyes on the field below.

“He was Eddis’s minister of war,” Attolia said. “Eugenides’s father.”

The words took a moment to penetrate Nahuseresh’s concentration. He turned slowly, like a defective clockwork, to look at the queen.

Fair enough. We have now confirmation that after that last disastrous battle, Eugenides was chained next to his father, and that at one point during the wait for the Queen’s decision his father had to be stopped from strangling him. Except...it’s not just a “wow, kid, you screwed the pooch on this one!” strangling, is it? It’s the action of a man who knows what happened to his son the last time his son was in the power of this woman, who knows exactly what is about to happen to him now that he’s been caught a second time.

Shall we review?

In the evenings, before dinner was served, the court gathered in the old throne room. Four officers who had already drained several cups of watered wine joked about the threats of the queen of Attolia, lately reported by Eddisian spies. In a sudden silence, their words carried over the crowd. “...send him into the afterlife blind, deaf, and with his tongue cut out as well...”

Eyes turned to Eugenides, standing across the room in a group with several of his uncles. Everyone knew that Attolia had been speaking about him.

And shortly after, speaking with Eddis: 

“Eugenides, we can’t afford to have you disappear in a fit of despair just now.”

“Do I look sunk in despair?” he asked, holding his arms out from his sides.

“I assume you’re hiding it to maintain pretenses.”

“It’s worse than despair I am hiding,” he said, sounding suddenly very bleak.

“Is there something worse?” she asked.

“Oh, yes.” He shifted his weight and looked around the empty room. He turned away from her and appeared to take a great in the interlocking gold squares painted around the walls near the ceiling. “I’m terrified,” he admitted.

And let us even glance ahead to King of Attolia, where Eugenides says to Attolia, post-nightmares:

The king sighed. Forgetting Costis standing nearby, forgetting possibly that anyone or anything else in the world existed, the king said shakily, “Tell me you won’t cut out my lying tongue, tell me you won’t blind me, you won’t drive red-hot wires into my ears.”

As stated previously, ouch. Eugenides spends this book frightened down to his bones. He loves Attolia, but she has cut his hand off; he knows that if she had him in her power again she might do more than that. His existence is a threat to her throne & the Mede are a threat to her sovereignty; which is one she can actually mitigate? She sure can’t unseat the Mede by herself, but Eugenides she can make an example of. What a blow to Eddis, to remove the greatest tool she has and the only direct continental check on Sounis’s warmongering in one stroke. And here Gen is, sitting neatly in her power with not a bargaining chip in the world.

And Eugenides knows it. And Attolia knows it, and so does the minister of war, Eugenides’s father, and every single man in that company. The routing of the war party isn’t just a tactical loss. It’s the consigning of the Thief of Eddis to the most horrific torture any of them can imagine, a slow and agonizing death, with no reprieve in sight.

“You’ll be chained by the neck to two other prisoners,” she told him. “if you and they live to reach my megaron at Ephrata, the other two will be safely returned, without ransom, to Eddis.” Eugenides didn’t move. His hope of heaven could have been in the dirt at her feet, so fixedly did he stare there. “Do you understand?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“What will you do now? “

“Oh” --he tried unsuccessfully to keep the tremor out of his voice-- “grovel, I suppose.”

“I’ve heard you do that before,” said Attolia, briefly amused in spite of herself.

Eugenides swallowed. “That was begging,” he said with a better effort at lightness. “There wasn’t much opportunity for groveling last...time.” He stumbled, then added evenly, “I am very good at groveling.”

“Anything to save your skin?” Attolia asked.

“Nothing is going to save my skin,” Eugenides said flatly.

Oof.

Attolia wasn’t surprised that the mask that hid his feelings was gone. His training hadn’t been in fear and diplomacy; it had been in silence and stealth. As he looked at her, his eyes were bright with anguish. He had heard of her threats, as she had known he would. She could see that he had no expectations of mercy from her. No hope that she would be something other than ruthless and cruel.

Eugenides was afraid and he was a fool and he knew it. He had forgotten what it felt like to be at the mercy of the queen of Attolia. The blood pounded in his ears, and his entire body was rigid to fight the trembling in his knees. He was sick with it. He remembered that feeling but thought it had been caused then by the pain in his head. Now there was no pain, but the same feeling in the bottom of his stomach. He would beg, he knew, for any mercy she would show, but he thought there would be none. [...] A shudder he couldn’t stop shook the Thief. He would lose his sight, and his hearing, his power of speech before he finally died. Dead is dead, he had told himself over and over. Dead is dead. But worse than dying was knowing that she would be the one to take those things from him. Because she hated him.

Oof.

My God, he thought, I am so frightened. O my God, if you will not save me, make me less afraid. He fell on the steep trail.

He hit face first, and the stones in the mud cut into his cheek. He had fallen so quickly that he’d dragged down the two others chained with him. They at least could brace themselves with their chained hands as they tried to get to their feet. Eugenides’s arms were bound to his sides, and his feet, seeking purchase, slid across the wet ground. One of the men made it to his feet, but he rose too quickly. Eugenides choked as the chain pulled hard against his collar, and his weight pulled the other man off-balance to fall again. [...] The man got to his feet again and this time, while still leaning down, helped Eugenides up. [...]

“Sir,” whispered the man beside him, “at the next cliff, we will jump with you.”

Eugenides turned to look for the first time at the men chained on either side. Both men nodded to assure him that they were willing to sacrifice their lives, but Eugenides shook his head. [...] Eddis would need every soldier if she was going to survive his failure.

Eugenides is going to die. Every person in his country knows he is going to die, and die badly, and it is going to destabilize three countries and invite in the invaders in the process. It’s the first step towards the beginning of the end, and there’s nothing anyone can do to save his life.

Eugenides’s father is with him the whole time this is happening.

It’s such an easy thing to forget, but the minister of war has been there since the beginning. He’s watched his son grow up and follow in his mother’s footsteps, and his mother’s father’s footsteps; watched him give up the sword and a position as a soldier to be this flighty, ascerbic, clever thief who’s as reliable as a shadow.

Watched Eddis send him too quickly back to a country that wanted him dead, a country that cut his hand off and sent him back closer to dead than alive. Watched his son hide in a library for a year rather than face the world and the war in it because it was too hard and he was afraid, Gen who’s spoken with gods and stolen from kings and queens and danced on the edges of rooftops without fear.

The minister of war was there when Gen came back to Eddis at the end, when he outlined the plan that led to the kidnapping of the Attolian queen and his marrying her in order to stabilize her country and Eddis’s. This woman tortured and mutilated his son and drove him into a year of despair, and now his son wants to marry her. And the minister of war agrees. What I wouldn’t give to have been inside his head when Gen first presented this idea!

Except...it goes wrong. It all goes wrong, and they’re caught, and the minister of war watches his son’s best, most carefully laid plans be torn to shreds. Good men die. The Medes win again. He watches the woman who mutilated his son go up to him when he is in chains and taunt him again when he is powerless, sees his son afraid to his bones because they all know what this means.

I don’t know if the minister of war is one of the men who agrees to jump with Gen. I kind of feel like he isn’t, because I think Gen would have acknowledged that in the text, but that doesn’t change the fact that when they reach the megaron he’s chained close enough to Eugenides to wrap his chains around his son’s neck and begin to quietly strangle him.

Like I said, it’s not a kind thing. He’s killing his son swiftly so that he can’t be tortured to death.

And Gen lets him. Because everyone knows what this capture means, and he knows that his father loves him, and he knows that the sheer enormity of this failure means that there’s not a thing in the world his father can do for him now except minimize his suffering.

That’s bad enough. Man, that’s bad enough. But you know what’s worse?

Attolia knows the minister of war has done this. Attolia knows why he has done this. Attolia must look her future father-in-law in the eye and tell him that she knows he feels death is preferable for his son rather than another instant of interaction with her, and she is going to keep his son anyway. She knows that she is going to marry a man whose family hates her in the visceral gut-deep hatred that destroys people, because she took from them what they loved and broke him and is now going to take him again forever.

No one thinks Attolia is redeemable except Gen. Not his father, not Eddis, not Irene herself. He is the only person in the world who sees her as something more than a barbaric, vicious torturer, and she cut his hand off and mocked him and belittled him and let him think he was going to be torn apart at her hands, and that it would be better to let his father kill him than be touched by her again.

And Attolia tells Eddis this to her face. Everyone--the minister of war, Gen, Irene, Helen--every one of them knows what it meant to fall into Attolia’s hands, and Attolia tells Eddis to her face that she knew the minister of war thought it would be better for Gen to be dead than with her, and that Gen agreed.

She’s going to marry him anyway. She will have to face for the rest of her life the agonizing truth that she loves a man she has maimed and tortured and broken, and that his family hates her for it because they also loved him, and that there will never be enough grace in the world to make her worthy of the fact that he still loves her anyway.

So.

Attolia explained. “He had to be forcibly dissuaded from strangling his son.”

“So have we all from time to time,” Eddis said seriously.

Attolia tells Eddis the truth. Acknowledges the enormity of what she’s done and what she’s still about to do, and that she knows what it’s meant for everyone Gen loves.

Eddis could respond bitterly. Could turn away and not answer at all, because she knows as well as Attolia does that the minister of war thought the best thing he could do for Gen in that moment was kill him.

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t--minimize it, exactly, but she eases it, just a little, and whether she means to or not she lets Irene, just a little, into the circle of those who love Eugenides. It’s not forgiveness. It’s barely acknowledgement. But it’s an understanding and a a brief, brilliant kindness to a woman who’s gone decades without it, one infinitely small step towards her instead of away.

Eugenides loves Irene, so there must be hope. Or-- Helen must hope because Eugenides loves Irene, and in the end it all comes down to the same thing. It’s the offering of mercy and grace where none is deserved, not because she loves Irene but because Eugenides does, and Helen loves Eugenides, and maybe between the three of them and the minister of war and the fate of three countries hanging in the balance, they can find a way to open the cage Irene has been trapped in since her brothers died. To save Irene is to save Eugenides, even if no one realizes it but Eddis.

Three countries’ worth of love and grief and terror and hope all wrapped up in twenty-three words, with nothing but blind faith in Gen to keep them together.

And that’s why that’s the most painful set of sentences in the entire Queen’s Thief series.

[screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms]

My Beautiful Night-Wing (LokixReader)

Chapter Eleven: Kisses and I Love You

Part 12/?

Words: 1,500+

AN: Just a warning for this chapter, there is a makeout scene and a few dirty jokes, but nothing too bad. Anyway, I hope you like it!

(Y/N POV)

The day after Loki and I had confessed our love for each other started out fine until while I was walking to Loki's room, I heard someone loudly calling my name, and I could see Thor running towards me. Before I had a chance to react Thor picked me up and spun me around happily, but after a few seconds, I began to have trouble breathing.

"T...Thor," I said as best I could with no air in my lungs. "Can't br...breath."

"Oh, sorry," Thor said putting me down. "I am just really happy for you and my brother! I can tell that he really loves you, Y/N. Whenever he would talk about you, his eyes would just light up!"

So, the news was out.

"Thank you," I said not knowing what else to say to him. "Thor? Who else knows about Loki and I being together? I mean it just happened last night."

"Just me," Thor said with a huge smile. "But I had to force it out of him. He wants to wait till you are ready to tell everyone else, but he does want to see you as soon as you can. That's actually why I was looking for you. He wants to meet you in my mother's chambers."

"Alright," I said and began to walk to Frigga's chambers. "Thanks again Thor, you are a good big brother. Loki is lucky to have such a sweet brother."

I had to stop myself from tearing up at my own words, and how much I missed my big brother, Erett. How he would react to finding out that I had found someone to love and who loved me back. He would most defiantly be overprotective, but happy for me nonetheless.

I got lost in my thoughts and before I knew it, I was at the door to Frigga's chambers. I collected myself and pushed the door open, and I could see Loki and Frigga sitting on her and Odin's huge bed waiting for me. Loki gave me a loving smile and stood up to greet me, walking to where I stood and took my hand in his.

"Do my eyes deceive me," Frigga began to ask happily. "Or has my son found a partner to share his heart with?"

Loki and I looked into each other's eyes and I could see so much love, caring, and passion in them. Last night had seemed like a dream, but this was real. Loki and I looking into each other's eyes with so many emotions, and I could only guess tell his mother about our new-found love.

"It is, mother," Loki said briefly looking away from me so he could look at his mother. "I have harbored my love for Y/N for months now, and only last night did I have the courage to tell her of my feelings." Loki looked back into my eyes and heled my hands a little tighter. "I honestly didn't think she would return my feelings, but to my joy she did."

"There wasn't just joy on your end," I said with a chuckle and a smile. "I was beyond happy to know Loki had feelings for me, and I will do my best to prove it every single day."

Before I could say anything more the door behind us opened and Odin himself stepped into the chambers. I tried my best to avoid Odin if I could, and I could tell he felt the same about me. I looked to Frigga and then to the ground as a worrying thought came to me, but I continued to speak as if Odin hadn't come in.

"Please," I began with a pleading tone in my voice, and Loki could tell I was nervous. "I know I do not come from much. I was cast out by my own people and left to die, but your son, Loki, found me. I can't give you anything," I looked at Loki sadly. "I can only give you my undying love and devotion. I can only give you a promise, and that will be to love you till the end of my days."

I had one tear going down my cheek, witch Loki brushed off with his thumb.

"That's all I need," Loki said to me with his soft silky voice. "That's all I could ever ask for, and I will do the same for you. I will love you until I die, and into the afterlife."

He pulled me in for a quick but loving kiss, and for that moment it was just the two of us. In that moment I had forgotten everything around me, even the All-Father and his wife looking at Loki and I as we shared the loving kiss. Once we pulled away, however, I did remember where we were and who was watching us. I looked at the ground and began to blush.

"Oh, my sweet child," Frigga said softly and walked over to Loki and I. "I could never stand in the way of two young lover's happiness, especially if one of them is my son. You both have my complete blessing and best wishes."

I could feel my body begin to loosen up and relax, but not completely. Odin had still said nothing, and that made me nervous.

"I must confess," Odin said sternly. "I was not expecting Loki to find a maiden on his won, or at least this soon. Even tho she is a servant to the palace and has no social status, I will also give you two my blessing. Y/N, I offishly relieve you from your duties as Loki's personal maid and give Loki permission to court you."

"Thank you, father," Loki said with a huge grin. "Thank you too, mother. Y/N and I are overjoyed, but we must be going now."

I could tell by the tone in his voice he wanted to go somewhere that we could be alone, and I also wanted the same. I wanted to spend some time with now that we were together.

"Very well," Frigga said. "We will see you two at dinner."

With that Loki grabbed my hand and led me out of their room and through the palace, into the gardens. We sat under the tree next to the pond that Loki had pued me into the day before.

"You aren't going to push me in again are you," I asked playfully. "Because that is no way to treat someone who you are courting."

"I have no intention to, my love," Loki said with a chuckle and looked into my eyes again. "You know? You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and you have the mind of a genius."

I blushed at his words and he came closer to me."Thank you," I said not looking at him. "You aren't so bad yourself. You are not only the first prince I have ever met but also the nicest. I am more than lucky to have you, and I intend on showing you how much I love you every day."

"The feeling is completely mutual my dear," Loki said with a smirk, and at this point was only a few inches away from me. I tried to back away but ended up laying on my back in the soft grass. Loki's smirk only grew as he climbed above me, placing one hand next to both sides of my head to keep him elevated. "And I plan on showing you just how much I love you."

With that Loki leaned down to capture my lips with his own soft ones. This kiss had just as much love as our first one but had more passion and hunger in it. Loki softly bit my lower lip as a sign that he wanted to deepen the kiss. I decided to tease him and kept my mother firmly shut. Loki, being Loki wasn't having that. So, with one hand holding him above me, and the other one slowly began to move down my side, I let out a small gasp. Loki took that as his chance to slip his tongue into my mouth, and our tongues began to fight for dominance. It didn't take Loki long to win, but I didn't care that much, he was a really good kisser. After what seemed to be an eternity later you both had to pull away for air.

"Damn," I said out of breath. "That was amazing."

"You think that was something," Loki said with pride and that same smirk still on his lips. "Just wait till the first time you and me-"

"LOKI!!!" I yelled and covered my face to hide my embarrassment. "What the hell!"

"I love you so much," Loki said with a laugh. "You and your crude mouth."

"You seemed to be enjoying it a few moments ago," I said snarkily. "I love you too, Loki."

Taglist: @camu-winchester @mybabydrivesa67impala @theoneanna

Let me know if you want to be tagged. Fic requests are still open. 

[lunaticdragonimagines]

Happy (early) Birthday! I hope you enjoy it! Could I request some HCs about human avatar Anankos' time with Mikoto (because angst)? Thank you and happy birthday again!

Ok, I got my music on; let’s do this! (Also; will be calling human Anankos ‘Hydra’ just so I can tell the difference between the human avatar and the dragon, and I’m used to it already.) ((Also, this post is a big ol spoiler)) (((Also fun fact, Chrome decided to fail on me, so I had to rewrite the last part of this, and I want to screech. Also why it’s actually posted the day after my birthday!)))

I’m 99% sure Mikoto found this dork just injured and weak somewhere, possibly in a puddle or the shallows of a pond/lake. How Hydra got hurt is anyone’s guess; but we do know he lacked his memories.

I would assume the buildup to romance was very slow; they first became friends once Hydra recovered enough.

(They are both dorks, but of different types; Mikoto can and will mess with people if I remember right, though sometimes she does silly things without meaning it. Hydra is a book nerd; Anankos is the Dragon of Wisdom right? Surely Hydra would really like learning about new things even without his memories.)

If you think he was able to hide the fact he’s a Manakete, you are wrong. Even as a mostly human fellow, he still has dragon traits that were found when Mikoto was patching him up. She didn’t judge him for it, just found it odd because she has never met a dragon in human form. (Also yes, at least I subscribe to the idea of dragon traits on Manakete human forms.)

So for a while, these two were just close friends, but you know, soon feelings form……

Hydra tried to kept his hidden, while Mikoto could at least get Arete’s help in trying to figure out what to do.

(Arete advised thinking it over carefully….But to follow her heart if she felt it was not wrong.)

((Idk why but a part of me thinks Arete was shipping it just a tad. Or she had a bet with her husband on if Mikoto would marry the dragon dork.))

Once the feelings are confirmed to be shared, then comes the period of time where they were courting and it was as awkward as you would expect. At least when they tried; normally they just acted like they did as friends, just with a bit of close contact at times.

Please imagine Hydra proposing like a dork……….Mikoto says yes while laughing a bit at her adorable dork of a dragon.

After their marriage, they soon learn that they have a child on the way (Hydra almost passes out before just getting really excited about being a father.)

Though, this is also about the time Hydra starts to regain his memories of being Anankos; and the Silent Dragon beginning to try to get his fragment returned to the rest of him.

He tried to hide it as long as he could, but eventually he had to tell Mikoto, just so she knew what was wrong with him. She actually made sure to calm him down a bit and remind Hydra that she will always love for who he was, not whatever he becomes.

Soon after Corrin is born, Hydra is starting to realize he is too far gone at this point for it to be safe in Valla anymore for his family, no matter how much he wants to spend more time with them.

Despite Mikoto trying to get him to follow to Hoshido when she is sent away with the baby Corrin, Hydra just smiled and told her to stay safe and that he loved her and their child very much, and wished she didn’t have to leave them so soon.

For Hydra, the memories of his family kept him going long enough to find help in the form of the Awakening trio.....And he died in Hidden Truths happy, his last thoughts before rejoining Anankos being focused on his wife and children......

For Mikoto, the memories were painful, but helped her remember that Anankos wasn’t always the crazed dragon he is now.....

Bonus: In Rev, The last tiny bit of Hydra left in Anankos is the reason Mikoto is able to help you even a bit during a certain chapter; he also made sure all three of the gen zeros who got to say goodbye got said chance to do so. (He has respect for Sumeragi for acting as Corrin’s father despite the child not being blood-related to him, and for taking in Mikoto and treating her kindly.)

Bonus 2: Please imagine Hydra and Mikoto finally getting to be reunited in the afterlife when everything is done; a very tearful reunion I’m sure. But one that makes sure their spirits are finally at peace. (Though they do wish they got to see Corrin be crowned the next ruler of Valla in-person; and Mikoto wishes she got a chance to meet Lilith since Hydra would likely tell her about the Astral Dragon.)

[innxcentfaces]

1-50 on the random character questions meme!

going to be doing this under a read more, for obvious reasons. 

100 Random Character Development Questions

001. When is their birthday?

June 29th, making Charlie a Cancer. 

002. Do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?

Occasionally she’ll celebrate her birthday on July 1st if that’s a weekend, and then she’ll spend the rest of the year calling herself an ‘honorary Canadian’. Her brothers try to throw some sort of party for her, though it usually ends up as an excuse to throw a rager for themselves. 

003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea?

Coffee, Always coffee. Charlie will be the first to admit she has a serious caffeine addiction. 

004. Do they prefer being alone or with others?

Though Charlie doesn’t particularily like crowds, she also isn’t the best at being alone. She’s grown up sheltered by her brothers and is used to having at least someone in her general area at nearly all times. Though she’ll enjoy an area alone, for example the kitchen, it makes her anxious if she spends too much time entirely by herself. 

005. Are they in good health?

Charlie is in relatively good health, if not a little malnourished. She tends to feed her brothers before herself, and if there’s not enough food to go around she’ll steal food of the plates she takes back to the kitchen at the diner. After the healing of her burn scars, her health isn’t something she’d complain about. 

006. What sense do they most rely on?

Hearing. Being able to hear her brother not only coming, the tone of his step is one of the things that can warn her to incoming danger. As well as that, she’s well attuned to the sometimes subtle changes in his voice, infliction, and tone of his voice, to help her know when there a chance at de-escalating him. She enjoys the sounds of people’s voices, and it’s usually one of the things she remembers strongest about people. 

007. Is your character an optimist or a pessimist?

An optimist, more often than not. Though she can have her dark moments, especially when in regards to herself, Charlie is most definitely an optimist. She likes to look on the bright side of things, and she’d a master of finding the silver lining no matter how thin it is. She’ll always see the best in people first, and she’ll always see the best for their futures. She lives in a place of hope for those around her, even if she doesn’t live in a place of hope for herself. 

008. What is their favorite fairy tale?

Aladdin. Always a lover of the genie, she also had always identified with the idea that some one like herself and her brothers, street rats, could one day have a happy ending and become more than what they are. 

009. Do they believe in happy endings?

Always. Charlie will forever believe in happy endings, that with work and patience, a happy ending is always possible. Otherwise, what’s the point?

010. Do they believe in love at first sight?

Definitely. 100%. It’s something she dreams about. To be lucky enough to find it. 

011. How would your character court the person of their dreams?

She’d be kind to them, interested and invested. She’d want to help them any way she’d can, and definitely would take care of them. Maybe even to the point of being motherly. She’ll be playful and energetic once she’s comfortable around them, though it’s rare if she’ll come out to be the first one to say anything about it.

012. What makes your character embarrassed?

Talking about sex in any shape or form. Swearing when not out of anger or to make a point. Her scars. Her home life. Her financial status. Her lack of food. Her thrift clothes. Her virginity. Her brothers’ addictions. Her eldest brother’s abuse.

013. Have they ever been bullied or teased?

After spending most of her school year all but invisible, she was more ignored than bullied as most people were intimidated by her band of brothers. 

014. Detail one secret shame your character feels.

Her scars. She feels like they make her ugly and disfigured. She refuses to look at herself naked and will avoid seeing herself at all costs even while stripping to bathe, shower, or change. 

015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?

With her tongue. Though soft spoken and mild mannered, when angered or frustrated, Charlie can have a sharp tongue and isn’t afraid to speak her truth to whoever needs to hear it. This is rare, though, and only comes after she’s reached her breaking point. 

016. What is their choice of weapon?

Knowing Charlie, either a frying pan, or a can of mace. 

017. When does your character think that violence is justified or deserved?

When all other avenues fail, she may think that violence is justified. In most cases, if not almost all cases, she’ll never think that violence is a means to any end. 

018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?

Hide. Try to hide and protect others more at risk than herself. 

019. If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?

Anything to do with plants. Being like a living Mother Nature would be like a dream to her. 

020. What are their hobbies?

Cooking. Reading. Cleaning. Tending to her plants. 

021. How do they display affection?

Constant touching, stolen glances, studying her partner. Hand holding, cooking for them, running her hands through their hair. Cuddling, smiling, being playful. Quiet, comfortable moments. Lingering looks. Leaving cute little notes, gifts or surprises in random places for her partner to find. Caring about and caring for her friend/partner. Listening, giving advice, and checking up on them. 

022. What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?

A picture of her mother when she was Charlie’s age. She was beautiful, and though Charlie has no memory of her, she still thinks she’s the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen. 

023. What do they consider beautiful in others physically?

Their smiles and the way it reaches their eyes. The softness hidden under the rough edges of tired people. The way eyes crinkle at the edges when a smile is real. 

024. What do they consider ugly in others physically?

It’s rare for Charlie to ever really let herself see the ugly in people, though she will admit to being slightly put off by people with horribly bad teeth. 

025. What do they consider beautiful in others personality-wise?

Almost everything. Charlie tends to see only the good and beautiful part of people, nearly to a fault. But those who can look at someone and really see them, will always hold a special place in her heart. 

026. What do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?

Cruelty for the sake of cruelty. 

027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?

Falling in love and being safe. 

028. What makes them laugh out loud?

Being tickled. Silly faces. Puns. 

029. What sort of sense of humor does your character have?

Silly and playful. For example, making funny faces, teasing, and tickling. 

030. Do they believe in the afterlife?

Charlie wants to believe in God, but hasn’t seen a lot of proof of his existence. She refuses to believe that death is the end, though, so her focus is on heaven. 

031. Are they superstitious about anything?

Ghosts. Charlie 100 000% believes in ghosts and demons. 

032. Does your character believe in ghosts?

\see previous answer.

033. Do they keep their promises?

Charlie will always do everything in her power to keep any promise she makes. She’d have too much guilt not to. 

034. What’s their view of lying?

Though she will admit that there is a time and place for lying, those are rare and more often than not she believes in honesty. 

035. What is the most important rule your character lives by?

Everyone deserves kindness. 

036. How honorable is your character?

If you asked Charlie, she’d say she’s very honorable. She wants to be a good person, and she does her best to live by her strong set of morals every single day. Even when sometimes that is a detriment to herself and on occasion, her safety. 

037. If your character saw someone drop a large sum of money and knew that they could probably take it without anyone noticing, what would they do?

A hundred percent she’s give it back. She’d never be able to stop the guilt of wondering what they needed all that money for. 

038. What bad habits do they have?

Besides smoking during times of stress, Charlie’s worst habit is putting the world above herself and neglecting her own self care. 

039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?

Abandoning them. 

040. What is their obsession?

Cooking. Cooking shows, cooking books, recipes and flavors. 

041. Are they comfortable with technology?

Charlie is what you would call an old soul. Due as much to her poverty and sheltered lifestyle, Charlie’s current cellphone is a flip phone and she has no idea how to really use a smart phone or table, though she gets the general idea. She’s not the best with computers and her knowledge is general, but she did take a typing class in high school and ended up being rather proficient at it. 

042. What is their greatest achievement?

The year she successfully made a turducken and received her scholarship, even if she never did end up going to culinary school.

043. What will they stand up for?

Justice for those who need it. She’ll stand up for other who she feels like ae being mistreated without a thought to her own safety. Charlie will also stand up for love, full believing that love can conquer all. 

044. What disgusts them?

Bullies, people that are cruel and manipulative and need to hurt or put down others to make themselves feel bigger or feel enjoyment. 

045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions?

Charlie has a history of migraines, though she’s started to grow out of them. 

046. How do they handle getting sick?

Though she started off life as a very sickly child, as she got older it got more and more rare for Charlie to get sick, when she does, though, she tends to get very cuddly, needy and affectionate. She’ll be in denial that she’s sick as well, though, and will force herself to do her responsibilities until she’s literally on the edge of fainting. 

047. What was the last medical problem your character had?

Her brother doused her with gasoline and started her on fire, it left two thirds of her back and all of her left hip with deep, twisted scarring. She spent quite a lot of time in the hospital and far longer than that healing. 

048. Do they have any allergies?

Nope.

049. How does your character feel about growing old?

Having come to terms with the fact that though she believes in true love and love at first sight, she’ll probably end up an old maid with a bunch of cats, she’s not too worried about it. 

050. How does your character feel about their own mortality? 

Charlie is well versed in thinking she’s going to die, and the idea makes her sad. Not because she’s dying, because once she does she’ll be forgotten. Truly invisible, as she’s been made to feel her entire life. It scares her to think that she could leave the world without ever leaving a mark on it. 

[oc-review-shop]

OC Review: Sheila Rahal

Submitted by: chogisquad

Reviewed by: Mod Charle

Hi! Oh jeez I’m a little nervous. So this is Sheila Rahal. She’s an OC for an idea of a web comic that I’ve had since last year that’ll take years to fully develop but here’s a start.

Webcomics are very common, but very few succeed. Just as a heads up, it’s gonna take a loooooooong time to develop these kinds of things. I’ve been helping another friend work on something similar, and 3 years into it, we still are trying to fill in plot holes and any other spots we may have missed in designing the story. We’re not even at the drawing or outlining yet.

She plays a bigger part later in the story but for now here’s what I have for her: - She’s dead currently but I’ll get to that later. In her backstory she is a 22 year old big city bombshell with a large influence on her city’s party scene. Like every celebrity birthday, every holiday-themed event, every party where there’s alcohol, she’s there. 

I’d like to know what kind of world this story is taking place in as well as any other hazards about the country/world Sheila is living in. If it takes place in the United States present day, that would mean Sheila had about a year to become engrossed in alcohol and become popular enough to be invited to parties. I’d like to know more about the setting. It’s hard to review an OC when you don’t know much about the setting or story itself.

- Her party monster lifestyle was the subject of praise from a few but scrutiny from pretty much everyone else, tabloids say she’s a horrible influence, etc. 

Again, how do tabloids get info on her if she has only been drinking for a year? More backstory on how she rose to celebrity status would be appreciated.

- After one insane party at a club, she clearly had drank way too much, but refused a taxi, insisting she drive home herself. This resulted in her crossing a red light and killing a pedestrian.

Who let this woman do this? Anyone with a sane mind would immediately say no to Sheila driving home.

- Waiting for the police, she pulled out a hidden flask she had in her bag and downed it all in one go.

Nice going, Sheila.

- She died from alcohol poisoning that same night, and woke up in a court room in Heaven. She was being tried for breaking one of the commandments (killing that guy) and was ultimately sentenced to eternity in Hell, where she turned into a demon.

I’m pretty sure drowning in alcohol would break some sort of rule in Heaven as well. Like a stated earlier, it’s hard to judge an OC if nothing is known about the world they live in. What do Heaven and Hell do? More information is needed to evaluate this topic. In addition, are all people tossed down to hell turned into demons?

- After a while in Hell, she gets bored of wandering around and she decided to get a job working in Satan’s army, because she saw a lot of her popular Hell-friends work there.

What is the army for? Hell, I would imagine, is a place where chaos and insanity is welcomed, and any sort of order or organization is shunned. In Hell, people don’t care. Satan would not need an army for any reason if Hell is a place for “freedom”. More work on the setting is greatly needed. (People in Hell do not give two f**** about taking care of others, that is why they are kind of in Hell)

- While working her way up the ranks, she learned of an elite position acting as the demons to people who are destined to go to Hell.

What? There are people destined to go to Hell? I really need more information regarding this. The entire story needs a ton of work. It’s quite difficult to understand what is happening if the background information on the world around and the rules and guidelines are not set in stone.

- She goes for it, because she sees and opportunity to go back to Earth and check on an old friend from her original life. She gets assigned to a newborn named Victoria. Victoria can summon Sheila with a specific pentagram and a drop of her blood (of course that’s something she learns later).

So some people are destined to go to Hell. Why and how is this decided? Would this also mean some people are destined to go to Heaven? Obviously there should be some exceptions. Also, what about Sheila’s family? Does she have one or are the dead or abandoned her? 

- Sheila spends the first 18 years of Victoria’s life by her side, teaching her about Hell, and how “it’s not as bad as those books make it out to be” -actual Sheila quote from my script.

Is Victoria creeped out by this at all? A child being told they are destined to go to the underworld isn’t exactly pleasing to the ears. In addition, what about Victoria’s parents? Her family? Do they play a part in this?

- Sheila eventually receives a message from Satan that turmoil between Heaven and Hell is reaching its limit, and to prepare her human “host” for an upcoming war. Sheila gets to work recruiting Victoria, convincing her it’s worth it and help her find a hostage they can take to Satan in exchange for Royalty-status and treatment in Hell (which includes drinks).

Was there turmoil from long ago? How did this turmoil start? Why would there be any tension if Heaven and Hell are technically there to balance out the good and evil? A lot of information and events are unexplained. What about a hostage? The government in both Heaven and Hell need to be prepped as well. I would imagine a hierarchy in both places are not likely, especially since they are supposed to be places of freedom. People in Hell aren’t exactly going to approve of a Sheila in royalty status if she doesn’t do something that proves her position, and taking a hostage isn’t exactly worthy. Satan is satan because he strikes fear in those beneath them. Those that rise to the top in Hell do so because they are feared amongst others.

Basic OC details: - Dob: February 14th - Current age: 22 (has been for the last 30 years) - Height: 5′6″ (5′8″ with horns) - Species: Demon (assigned) - Voice: This is strange but I imagined Snooki from Jersey Shore

How is she assigned to be a demon if she is sent to hell to be a demon anyways? Are there different species in hell? And how are they “assigned”?

Personality Traits: - Loud and wild (but has sobered up in her afterlife)

I thought she still drank (royalty status, wanting drinks?)

- The one people describe as the life of the party - Rash and stubborn as demonstrated the night she died

I’m not sure that is stubbornness or rashness ‘cause she was kind of drunk.

- Kind of vain, but with her lifestyle, it’s a bit expected - Genuinely caring to those who matter to her (currently Victoria)

Trivia: - She had one true friends when she was alive and her name was Ella. Ella was with her in the car the day she killed that man in the street. Sheila was attempting to drive her home despite being drunk.

Why would Ella even allow her friend to drive her home knowing she isn’t sober? These are pretty messed up people. I need more information on what is happening with Sheila and Ella’s relationship and what their motivations are. Did Ella not stop Sheila because she wanted to die? There needs to be reason. Of course, Ella could have also been drunk.

- Another character talking about her: “She would spend her nights drinking away her problems. Funny thing was that her only problem in life was the drinking.” (This is just a quote I’m proud of from my script haha).

Mood.

- She lies about dying her hair, claiming she’s a natural blonde even though everyone can clearly see her roots are black.

Reminds me of RWBY in a sense, just the “natural blonde” part. She must be drunk all the time if she’s trying to convince people her hair is blonde when you can clearly see the black roots if she looked in the mirror.

- She is fond of Victoria; she claims she reminds her a bit of Ella, not in looks but in personality. She tries to prevent Victoria from binge drinking away her days, as she believes her death was “too tragic” and doesn’t want Victoria to die how she did; she would rather Victoria die in a “better” way.

How old is Victoria at this time? This goes back to the setting aspect of my review. If we are in the United States, the legal age of drinking is 21. Victoria should be noticed by authorities, or at least her family, if this happened.

- Her one major regret is not looking after Ella. She still isn’t sure what happened to her or if she’s alive or not.

I’d like to know everything about Ella because right now I know nothing.

- Her flask from the day she died was full of vodka.

Delicious.

- Victoria sometimes asks her just how much she drank that night that was not enough to kill her. Sheila says she’d rather not know.

Victoria seems wild. Like, all I know about her was that she was 18 at one point, but if she’s already drinking and stuff before... man she really is being set up for Hell. Why though?

- Even in her afterlife, her favorite drinks are Mojitos and any cocktail that’s more alcohol than fruit juice. She won’t admit it but she loves chocolate milk as well.

First you said she wanted to drink, then you said she’s sober, now this? I’d really like to know a solid answer.

- Her favorite food is sushi - She owned over 30 pairs of shoes. In her afterlife she came to find out those shoes and all her other belongings were auctioned off.

Who auctioned them off though? Ella? Her family?

I feel like this story has some potential. However, a LOTTTTTT more needs to be done in order to create a functional, good quality story without a large amount of plot holes. Sheila, I’m assuming, is the main character, yet her character itself needs to be edited in order to create a likable main character. Take Avatar the Last Airbender for example. Aang is a very likable main character, and his interactions with other characters in the story build his personality and development more and more. The story is fleshed out to where we know everything about the world they live in and tensions between different nations. I’d like you to use other stories such as Avatar as a guide in creating your Webcomic. It’s going to take a lot more time for you to fully develop the story and characters. However, after you’ve made all the necessary changes to the storyline, I would be happy to re-review Sheila and maybe the entire story itself!

(forgive this gif I love it)

Thanks for reading, and I hope this helps! (✿◠‿◠)

*all OC credit goes to chogisquad

~ Mod Charle

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Reintroduction, Reconciliation and Rebirth

So apparently one of my followers asked me about the whole “Mary Grayson as a Talon” verse I’m working on: “What if Mary gave herself up to the Titans instead going on a revenge streak against the Court of Owls?” 

So then, I answered. 

@lightdusk, this is for you :-)  

Padding through the hallways on her bare feet and looking at the various photographs on their walls, Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson was captivated by the people inside said photographs. Five teenagers, each different looking than the last all smiling and have the time of their lives whenever the camera went off for them. Among-st them where an African American with blue and silver cybernetics attached to him, a green skinned, fanged, pointed eared young man with a smile that can melt the heart of any rough roustabout, a deadpanning young girl having grey skin and an Indian style chakra gem on her forehead with a tiny smile next to the other two. Out of all five of these teens, however, none captured Mary’s attention as the golden/orange skinned red haired girl who was locking lips with her boyfriend…not just any boyfriend though. Said boyfriend with a domino mask covering his eyes and spiky black hair in a red vest and green tights, which was her son Richard, which was her Little Robin growing up and having friends outside of the circus, let alone an alien girlfriend like Starfire and having the time of his life in these photographs.

After examining the photos and their content, Mary continues walking through the halls of this ‘Titans Tower’ and wonders of now how did she arrive here under all places of her life…or rather her afterlife. That’s when the events leading to this moments hit her like a freight train in the middle of running through a dark tunnel in the Rocky Mountains. In other words, they hit her pretty hard. Mary remembers the deal she had made with the Owls and how her life will now be under their control instead of her then seven year old son’s, She remembers her ‘death’ falling from a great height to the sandy floor of the circus grounds below, most likely smashing various bones in her body and leaving a bloody mess for the coroners to clean up, all due to faulty trapeze wires the failed to hold her husband John and herself after the trademark ‘Flight of Death’.

Next came the electric pain that erupted all over her said, awakening her and allowing the electrum to do its job bringing life back into her lungs. Afterwards, the ‘indoctrination’ as the Owls slowly and painfully breaking her mind into submission for their control and to showcase her strength on all levels when faced with death causing conditions not limited to mental instability and various tortures. Then came the part the finally gave her some relief, the part in which she remembers who she was, why she was what they call a Talon in the first place, and how she not only escaped the Owls’ but made contact with The Titans, immediately surrendering to the authorities for multiple charges of first degree murder. On the day she was put into a police van with iron plated handcuffs, local villain Professor Chang tried robbing a Xenothium factory with the first Titans plus police stepping to clean it up in a snap. That was until the gunshots were heard and Chang contacted the rest outside the factory demanding he will go free from this stand off or all Titans will pay dearly. Mary, overhearing of her son and his friends in danger, immediately began slipping out of her cuffs and without boots, utility belt or her signature throwing knives and entered the factory without the police even noticing. About 7 minutes later, all five Titans immediately walked out of the factory with nothing more but a few scratches  while a barely dressed Mary walks out with Chang on her shoulder, thoroughly beaten to  a pulp, before Mary sets him down and extends her hands for the cuffs back.

In that one mission, Robin couldn’t help but ponder on an established fact made here: not only does the substantial amount of evidence point to his mother being alive again along with the fact she was under the mind control of an ancient conspiracy that most likely would’ve taken him hadn’t for his said mother making a deal with them but now even after all that brainwashing, torture at the hands of heartless bastards and years of assassination, she still loves him and the fact she didn’t even consider murdering Chang for threatening him no less proves that there does lie hope that Mary Grayson can be rehabilitated to society. Only thing is, she was not Mary Grayson as far as the police or general public know. Mary Grayson is long gone, being the victim of an ‘accident’ alongside her husband caused by mobsters due to a protection racket gone horribly wrong.  So with that fact, rehabilitating her into society will be…tricky at the least.

Robin was not the only one thinking of that however for his mother was thinking the same thing as well. Though for Mary, as her bare toes scuffled across the tile floor, she was contemplating  on not just the events in the last few days and the fact the Titans’ pledge for keeping an eye on her as ‘their prisoner’ but now on her own steps towards rehabilitating to society outside. What she needed was friends and connections never explored before since it’ll only be a matter of time before the Owls realize their prized Talon is missing from their ranks and start sending their agents after her.

CLANK.

“Aw man, Grass Stain!” Cyborg’s voice erupted across the halls from the Ops Room from which Mary can hear due to her hearing

“Dude, it wasn’t me! Even if it was, how the heck was I supposed to know that plate was slippery?”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t gone octopus like that out of the blue, maybe your hands could’ve had a better grip on it!”

“My hands so have a good grip, both tentacle and finger, I’ll have you know!”

“Yeah well not this time, now we got some porcelain on the ground that anybody can step on and that part of the floor in MY tower is ruined!”

“Yeah well maybe if you weren’t freaking out about Bumblebee coming over for just a simple dinner and not a dang date…!”

“Oh no, BB, You didn’t just say that you little..!”

By the time Cyborg and Beast Boy were preparing to tackle each other to the ground over the filthy state the kitchen was in, Mary by now finishes up cleaning the last plate that wasn’t broken and subtlety taps the two on the shoulders, causing the two to nearly fall over from shock, more so from Mary being right there as opposed to the fact now the kitchen was near spotless and the broken plate was safely removed from the spot it fell onto.

“Ahem, if I may be a bit a bug to you two, I helped out with the kitchen a bit and even started setting up the table for dinner tonight. Just thought I make sure you two have a big huge ‘super’ brawl here and potentially hurting yourselves” Mary says with a soft, motherly smile on her face with tweet of snarky sass in her speech.

Both Beast Boy and Cyborg looked at both her and each other with a sense of realization, they can be such idiots with trying to get their chores done, spending their time at each other’s hair instead of fixing the problem.

So after about half a minute of silence, Beast Boy speaks up,

“Eh, sorry man I lashed out like that.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Bros?” Beast Boy raises his hand making a fist for Cyborg to bump.

“Bros.” Cyborg says as he bumps in his own fist into Beast Boy’s.

Mary nods her head in assurance. These two clearly had a strong connection with each other and they clearly had done so much together over the years it was utterly admirable on all levels. These two remind Mary of her husband John and his friendship with their manager Mr. Haley, the way those sometimes can get into shenanigans with each other over the next performance or just hanging out with the rest of circus crew.

After settling that little shouting match, Mary proceeds onward to the rooftops of the Tower, hoping to get a good view of the city her son with his friends protected with dignity and prestige. Such a city it turned out to be though, the bright lights, the calm ocean breeze and the soft crashing of the waves below helped provide an atmosphere of calm and relaxation Mary hadn’t felt since her youthful days in which her family would take the annual road trip to the Black Sea coast in the Ukraine. It was days like that, walking through the beaches with her mother, her father, and eventually the man who became her husband that really speak dearly to Mary. Those were her family and now with that life long gone into the past, she now wonders not really if she can make a new life likes those memories but rather how she can.

Dangling her legs on the edge of the Tower’s rooftops and taking out a small mirror in her sweatpants’ pocket, she looks at the light grey skin color her body now takes in. In a way, this colors means to taunt her very existence as it not only screams ‘you’re technically an undead person not unlike zombies that your husband and his friends can enjoying watching on Halloween night, now you’re a woman who done unspeakable torture to little kids just because your ‘Masters’ didn’t like them talking crap about their cities.’ With that very long bit of depressing news in her mind, Mary spitefully closes her mirror.

“So, you’re enjoying the view out here?” Raven asks as she joins alongside Mary at her right side, her legs crossed and floating from the ground very slightly.

“I do very much” Mary replies before having a more downcast look on her face “but I know for a fact it’ll only be a matter of time before this city and all the people in it will suffer all because of me remember who I am.”

Raven peeks over to see Mary’s distress, “Mrs. Grayson, if anything does happen here, it won’t be your fault. Not now and not ever.”

“What makes you say something like that?” Mary asks with now a bit of questioning going into it. Raven always seems on the more interesting buts of the Titans Mary can see. Her usual gloomy and anti social behavior is as apparent as a tiger hunting for his own prey away from any sort of his own kind. Yet, for some reason, raven has had plenty of hope in her friends, always being around to provide them heavy support on their various missions and usually being the one to knock out an opponent of it wasn’t her son.

Raven pauses a brief ten seconds before gathering her thoughts and explaining herself, “Knowing all the terrible things my Father had me do shortly after my birthday and the prophecy surrounding it, I felt like I was going to hurt my friends, the only people who truly understood besides my own mother. I felt legitimately creepy instead of just different. For that month in my life, I was practically a monster.” She raises her head as the full moon begins shinning on the two “But your son, Robin and my best friend Star, they never gave up on me. Neither did Beast Boy or Cyborg. I would’ve had a fun bet if she were back to normal; Terra would’ve tried to help to. Why’s that? Because I’ve proven to them time and time again. I wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t even creepy or different to them. I was their friend and I choose what I did not for my…asshole of a father, but to protect my friends. They saved me with the entire universe and I’m forever grateful for what they gave me in light of all that.”

“What’ll that be?” Mary asks.

“A second chance to make it all up by my actions” Raven replies with a soft smile as she turns to Mary, who now see each other in clear view “I’m sure if the girl who brought about the End of the world itself can get a second at being a good person by Robin, whim I remind you by the way is your son, I’m sure he can let you get that chance too.”

A few hours later, Mary finds herself in bed within the ‘spare bedroom’ that was within the Tower’s newly built Special Lockdown Zone, meant for prisoners that can’t be transferred to high security just yet or most likely for allies that potentially lose control over their actions. She definitely fits into the latter category since by now the bulk of the Titans have seen her composure and motherly nature across the Tower since they took her in. As she was cracking her toes with her hands on bed, Mary had thought of Raven’s words that she was given during their conservation on the rooftop. The thought of her son giving second chances for anything isn’t all that new. When he was younger, the Grayson caught a rat trying to eat their cereal within the family trailer. Rather than calling for it being finished off by John, Richard wanted to instead release it back into the wild far away from human contact where it won’t be pest jus for surviving. So, John takes the captured rat out to the field and does so. The rat never came to the circus grounds ever again, mostly likely living a peaceful life out in the wild. This compassion was always present for Richard from what she can remember and it was showing right now with the way not only they kept her in the Tower under their watchful eye, but the fact her room was on almost exact replica of her old bedroom back at the circus, right down the placement of the Flying Graysons poster hanging over her pillows.

By now the Titans had gone off to bed and it was her turn to do so. With that, Mary shut off the lamp right on her dresser, lays down her head on the pillows and, not even bothering with the blankets provided for her, shuts her eyes.

Unfortunately, her mind was not so kind for her tonight.

As soon as her breathing evened out, Mary began whimpering. Soft whispers of ‘I didn’t mean to’ in Romani poured out of her mouth. Sweat starts pouring down as those whispers started getting slightly louder. Mary then begins tossing back and forth, grabbing tightly to her arms and scrunching her bare toes tightly on the blankets towards the end of the mattress. Finally, Mary starts biting into her pillow rather angrily yet sorrowfully as tears began rolling down her face intensely.

I didn’t mean to! I tried my best to save you! I’m sorry, Little Robin! I’m so sorry…The inner voice Mary cries with anguish and absolute pain at the sight she sees: mounts of bloody bones, organs and all impaled with knives, her knives. These children, their parents, innocent people and numerous others she can’t even fathom, all are gather at her bare feet and slowly getting bigger and bigger until they start losing stability…they start falling unto her…

“Mom?  Mom?!”

With those words spoken, Mary’s eyes snapped open and they dart across her room until settling on a certain black haired, blue eyed young man with said blue eyes looking in worry.

“R-(sob) Richard?”

“Y-Yeah, Mom it’s me. I saw you on the cameras having a nightmare. Are you okay?”

Not even bothering with an answer, Mary grabs her son and pulls him onto her chest while she buries her face onto his shoulder, sobbing her eyes out. Richard can do nothing else but wrap his own arms around his mother and gently rub her back in an effort to calm her.

‘Robin?” a soft female voice says as Robin looks up. On the door to this room was Starfire, dressed in her pink and purple PJs and fuzzy slippers for her own bare feet since said feet are volatile in their ticklishness to anything. Robin, clad in a blue T shirt with black sweatpants and nothing coating his own bare feet, nods in Star’s direction saying

“My Mom just had a nightmare; it’s not too bad but if you like…”

Before Robin can finish that sentence, Starfire goes up to the two Graysons and wraps her arms on Mary’s back, joining her boyfriend effort at calming down her Earth In law.

Eventually their efforts pay off as Mary’s sobs began to calm  and she’s finally able to look at her son and his alien friend with read veined albeit golden eyes.

“S-sorry for that, it was just…very bad and I might’ve overreacted without knowing about it” Mary says as she begins to get her composure slowly back, tuning to her son she says “Mama’s okay right now Little Robin, she can handle the rest of the night.” Mary finished with a tearful soft smile trying to reassure her son.

Richard, of course, doesn’t take this sort of attitude so easily. Rather than going, her allows himself being let go from Mary’s arms but still sits cross legged on her bed.

“Mom, whatever you went through was physically hurting you badly. If this is what you can go through when you’re trying to get some shut eye, you need to someone to talk to about it.”

“Agreed friend” Starfire chirps in “Though friendships and bonds outside of family are rare on my home world, it is quite common for mothers and their warrior children to discuss of night terrors that would’ve plagued them. Robin and I shall wish to aid you of this burden Madam Grayson.”

“Are you sure? Because I think I can take it...” Mary tries pitifully to counter with tears (both regular and bloody) still leaking.

Starfire couldn’t help but slightly giggle ‘Nonsense my friend.”  

The two had a firm but soft smirks on their faces that say ‘You can trust us; we’ve been literal Hell and Back’ and also remembering Raven’s words in which reassure that trust, Mary breathes out

“Alright then, it’ll quite a long story, probably enough that you two will fall asleep before I finish it all the way…” Mary says, not evening finishing before Starfire leaves the two with her slippers next to the bed.

“She’s just getting the spare futons we use whenever we crash in another’s room” Robin says with a toothy grin on his face.

Mary, probably for the first time in a while, chuckles at that statement “Well, lady friends typically tend to do that.”

“Mom?” Robin asks.

“Yes, Richard?”

“Was your dream about…all the stuff you did…while under their control?”

“Well…yes. It—it was horrible.”

“What did you see?”

“Mountains and piles of …bones…children, women, any kind…just their bones piled at my feet and getting bigger. I did all of that. All I wanted was to make sure you didn’t do any of it. But all those lives…I thought you were never going to forgive me for…”

Mary was cut off at that moment for Richard proceeds to wrap his arms around her to prevent another breakdown.

“I get what you’re feeling Mom. I’ve done one or two things I regret that were meant to protect my teacher and my friends. I honestly thought they won’t forgive me for it, but while it took quite a bit…they did, not the ‘took quite a bit’ for my teacher. You gave up everything for me and made I was found by the right hands but you don’t need to punish yourself for it. I’m happy that…I have a mom and two dads in my life. I don’t ever replace you or devalue you just because of what you did.”

“What are you saying, Little Robin?”

“You’re my mama. I forgive you even though we do this to you. Just want to let you know no matter how many bad things you did, you did it for me and I appreciate it, just like what you did for me…before the ‘accident’.”

“So...can you help me? Maybe get a new name or something when I go out soon?” Mary asks with a sad look of curiosity.

Richard look at her with a soft smile “Well yeah, mama. Sure the whole world’s heard of aliens, demonic abominations, super criminals and guys wearing red and blue strongman uniforms  flying around with an S on his chest, but I don’t necessarily think living undead circus acrobats is quite up there yet.”

Mary once again found herself chuckling at her son’s wisecracks

“Well, that’s definitely your father speaking right there.”

“Which dad are we talking about, the acrobat or the Bat?”

More chuckling between the two ensure just as Starfire reenters the rooms, on her shoulders being big pillows, blankets and futons ready for the two of them.

Shortly afterward, all three began settling down for the night, Starfire taking the futon on the floor while Robin, while tempted at first for the second, just straight out fell asleep on his mother’s side with his stuffed elephant Peanut in his arms. Mary looks at the two with much softness and happiness. These two were inseparable and  even if on different beds, they were sticking together  almost every night an everywhere they go, much like how John and her were before Richard’s birth.

So starting tomorrow, they would begin finding the Romani tribe the Lloyds descended from and Mary will become said tribe’s personal bodyguard under a new name. All that was needed was a new ID, a new name, basically all that legal mumbo jumbo that both Cyborg and this so called ‘Batman’ can work on. For now though, with her Little Robin in her arms and sleepiness once again taking a firm grip on her, Mary Lloyd Grayson begins shutting her eyes and slowing down her breathing…

…maybe Devin Grayson can work? Nah, too obvious….

Took me quite a while to finish it but I hope this satisfies your appetite for stories sadly neither of the Big Two are willing to take  instead going for either Bat-worship or ‘Buy our next event comic where heroes will lose or fight each other instead of the bad guys, now every two months.” 

Dedicated to @lightdusk, @nightglider124, @fireflyxrebel, @kryallaorchid and so many others. 

[murroyilodel]

REALLY  LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. repost, don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good  luck ! TAGGED. @judgmentcast & @sanctamater (DRAWS BREATH) TAGGING. tag 10 my foot I’m dragging you all with me @adellaenchanted @a-riotous-beauty @actofgenius @almodir @alovelyspark @asundrop @beautyxmarred @bookwicldcr @bonhcmme @corditeheart @donapirata @dxdger @dyaud @fantomexnoir @femmelieutenant @foulmouthpiece @glacierfront @granxaire @hangtherules @howlingstorminside @ifproofwereneeded @immortalxdreamers @influencedbyfear @invictusmanet @leaderoftherccks @littlclctte @lordiism @mcnsieur @missperegcine @myxcenterxstage @prcfligate @pistolslang @raconteurofrepute @rakshaasa @regiaservitia @skidrowflorist @skilledquill @thecurseisinourblood @theholisticdetective @trickstercaptain @twistedfleshandbone @variantia @vicemirrored @xnjolras @xprodigium @coeurseveille @seijoki @xaedificare & everyone reading this, say I tagged you!

BASICS. FULL  NAME : Esmeralda, or Esmeralda Trouillefou in modern verse NICKNAME : Esme AGE : 22 is the default age BIRTHDAY : January 25th (This is a nod to her original counterpart in Victor Hugo’s novel, where he wrote that “In ‘66, sixteen years ago this month, on Saint-Paul’s day, Paquette was brought to bed of a little girl.”) ETHNIC  GROUP : Romani. NATIONALITY :  French. LANGUAGE / S : French, and decent Spanish. Also some English in the modern verse. SEXUAL  ORIENTATION : Heterosexual.     ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : Heteroromantic. RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Devoted to @thecurseisinourblood​. CLASS : An outcast in Disney verse, and a contented citizen in modern verse. HOME  TOWN / AREA : She does not remember her past in Disney verse. As for modern verse, her family migrated from Andalusia, Spain to France. Her parents now reside in Provence, while her brother works in Reims. CURRENT  HOME : Paris, France. PROFESSION : A street performer in Disney verse, a ballerina at the Palais Garnier in the modern verse. In a secondary modern verse, a policewoman.

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Voluminous raven tresses cascading to her shoulders, bouncing with each step. EYES : Large green eyes shining bright, hearkening spring even in wintry chill, and framed by thick, dark lashes NOSE : Straight and slim. FACE : Petite, heart-shaped, though it tapers to a slightly square chin. Unmarred by lines or freckles, untouched yet by the passage of time. LIPS : Full lips of crimson red, they part almost invitingly when she sleeps. COMPLEXION : A healthy smooth warm brown that glows under the sun. BLEMISHES : She has a mole at the right side of her waist, near her hip. SCARS : In the Disney verse, she has scars around her wrists and ankles due to rope burns at her near-execution. TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 5′7″. WEIGHT : 130 lbs. BUILD : In her prime of life, her body has blossomed into one Venus may envy. Voluptuous curves, slender waist, slim and nimble limbs. Pliant, sprightly, radiant, she moves with the grace of a swan and the spirit of a nymph. FEATURES : Her eyes captivate your heart, and her smile warms your soul. She outshines the sun and leaves you dreaming - this is how poets fall in love with muses. ALLERGIES : None. USUAL  HAIR  STYLE : Wild and free, save for a rose pink ribbon that keeps her untamed hair in place. USUAL  FACE  LOOK : Disney - She seeks to please, and hopes to catch the attention of passersby a little while so that they give her their coin willingly. Her come-hither look is an act, but her smile is never insincere. She means well, regardless of how the self-righteous may treat her. Joy can turn to outrage easily when she witnesses injustice, and her smile becomes replaced with an unladylike scowl. Modern - The modern world, while imperfect, is gentler on her, and she does not always need to fight. And so, with lightness, she faces the world with wide-eyed curiosity and happy wonder. USUAL  CLOTHING : Disney -  A loose cream blouse and a shawl tied carelessly around her waist; trinkets of gold flashing as she whirls round and round; a pair of earrings shared with her companion; a white petticoat peeking out a skirt dyed with cheap purple; clothes of patchwork, a rainbow of colours. Modern - Floral prints on white cotton, a splash of merry colours amidst sombre architecture. Old fashioned lace, testament to a mother’s penchant. Warm leggings to relax taut muscles from rehearsals and sensible heels to cradle tired feet constantly on tiptoe. Flowing dresses trailing in the wind to reflect the free spirit within. Scarfs thrown over the shoulder to create an asymmetrical pattern. Loose pyjamas - for comfort prevails - to slip into for the night.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Faltering in her resolutions. And in the Disney verse, the very real threat of capture and death, the exposition can be found here. ASPIRATION / S : Disney - Born into a world of superstition and discrimination, Esmeralda is left with her wits and natural talents to scrape a living and strive to maintain her principles in an environment that makes it so easy for her to slip. Given the opportunity, she will gladly join a vocation that helps better the lives of people. Without that opportunity, she hides behind a winning smile and coquettish dance, nevertheless she works in her own way to achieve fairness and acceptance for her people. Modern - Despite criticisms about her body which is unconventional for a ballerina, she aspires to be the best in her field and find a position in the Palais Garnier. Through ballet, she hopes to add a little beauty and joy to the audience’s life. POSITIVE  TRAITS : Kind, compassionate, resourceful, brave, charming, affectionate, warm, loving, witty, street-smart, friendly, gentle, hardworking, honest, humble, lively, sincere, optimistic NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Hot headed, stubborn, a little reckless, impatient, sarcastic, argumentative. MBTI : ESFP ZODIAC : Aquarius. TEMPERAMENT : Sanguine. SOUL  TYPE / S : Caregiver. ANIMALS : Playful goat jumping over a fence, boundless and carefree. Swallow soaring across blue skies, a harbinger of spring and hope and return to love and family. VICE  HABIT / S : Not so much a vice, but a habit. When nervous or agitated, she unconsciously tucks a stray lock of hair that dangles at the side of her face behind her ear, only to have it fall out again. She also has a sweet tooth, and when she feels she can indulge, she spends her spare money on buying cakes and fruits. FAITH : Disney - she believes God exists, but does not belong to any specific religion. An explanation is found in this meta post and its follow up. Modern - she is Catholic, because of her family, who come from Spain. GHOSTS ? : Disney - her people believe in ghosts. Modern - she does not give them much thought, though her brother told her ghost stories during her childhood. AFTERLIFE ? : See above. REINCARNATION ? : See above. ALIENS ? : In modern verse, she is not curious about aliens. Being a pragmatist, she is focussed on life on earth. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT : In modern verse, she most likely identifies herself as liberal. (Mun note: unfortunately, I am not knowledgeable in French political parties to determine which Esme will belong to.) ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE : Disney - she is obviously destitute. Modern - her family started off poor, having migrated from Spain to France with little to call their own. They could not even afford a television. But over the years, her parents’ finances become modestly comfortable, and they can retire in Provence while their children work. Esmeralda earns a decent living in Paris, which suffices for her to rent a small apartment and have a lifestyle she is completely content with. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Disney - she is an outcast. She may be beautiful, and an object of desire, but people will never consider her part of acceptable society, and may even despise or fear her for being a thief or a witch. Modern - she is an ordinary citizen of France, for which she remains grateful everyday. EDUCATION  LEVEL :  Disney - she is illiterate, though she takes lessons from Quasi after the events of the movie. Modern - she has a degree in the arts.

FAMILY. FATHER : Unknown in Disney verse. Rodrigo Trouillefou in modern verse, a former nurse. MOTHER : Unknown in Disney verse. Kiara Trouillefou née Manuel in modern verse, a former nurse as well. SIBLINGS : Unknown in Disney verse. Clopin Trouillefou in modern verse, as her elder brother. EXTENDED  FAMILY : Unknown in Disney verse. Their extended family is mostly based in Spain in modern verse. NAME  MEANING / S : Esmeralda, Spanish for green. HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? : None that I am aware of. Prior to Hugo’s publication of Notre Dame de Paris, there does not seem to be any reference to the name, Esmeralda. At least, Google can’t give me any answer. XD

FAVOURITES. BOOK : In modern verse, she is not a great reader. Her favourite since her childhood is The Little Prince, which her parents introduced to her when they moved to France to teach her French. MOVIE : In modern verse, black and white movies that her brother snuck her into the theatre to watch during her childhood. 5  SONGS : In modern verse, she likes Spanish folk music and classical music. Contemporary songs she enjoys are boppy ones like Corinne Bailey Rae - Put Your Records On. DEITY : God. HOLIDAY : In modern verse, Christmas. Christmas signifies family and togetherness, a time when everyone is in a jolly mood despite the harsh coldness. Bearing in mind those left behind, she makes more efforts in charity during this period of time, as elaborated here. MONTH : No specific month. SEASON : Summer, where the days are long and the nights are cool. PLACE : Disney - the Court of Miracles, no matter how noisy it can be. After years of wandering, she has a place to call home. Modern - home is where her family is, though her little apartment in Paris serves as her sanctuary from the chaos of the City of Lights. Other than that, she likes to explore cafes and theatres. WEATHER : Sunny. SOUND : Disney - a tap of the tambourine, the jingle of coins in a hat; boisterous laughter in the Court of Miracles, the quietude of the countryside. Modern - a brother’s furious strumming of a guitar, a family’s chatter carried in the breeze; old vinyl records playing songs of Andalusia, orchestral music swelling from the pit. SCENT / S : Disney - the rising sun driving out the morning dew to leave the air suffused with the scent of thawed earth and dewy grass, lemons and indistinguishable spices. a foreign blend, that she bathes herself in. Modern - orange blossoms and poplar leaves and Mediterranean spices hearkening Spain, the morning freshness of bread, the lightness of lavender and the bite of cinnamon from her adopted home. TASTE / S : Disney - mulled mead in the morning - honey in her breath and warmth in her belly; smooth butter on coarse bread - constant sustenance and poor man’s substitute for lavish meat; potages rich with the day’s produce (or questionable leftovers) shared among vagrants at night. Modern - strawberries, redness on the lips and sweetness on the tongue, soup, remarkable in its versatility, invaluable in its nourishment, ice cream and pastries, felicity on a plate, an indulgence she can ill afford as a child, a treat she picks up now when she thinks to pamper herself. FEEL / S : wind whipping through billowing hair, the exhilaration of a chase; silky scarfs over the the dressing screen, her goat’s tongue licking her cheek, warm leggings up her thighs, a beloved’s passionate embrace. ANIMAL / S : See above. NUMBER : None. COLOUR : All the bright colours of the rainbow.

EXTRA. TALENTS : Dancing, acrobatics, working a dagger (Disney), playing the tambourine, street smarts which help escape sticky situations... Her beauty and ability to sympathise, while not “talents”, draw people to her and create an illusion of other-worldliness, whether from heaven or hell depends on the observer. She also has a natural charisma and commands attention whenever she speaks. BAD  AT : She is bad at controlling her temper (even if she tries to be diplomatic at first), and in the same breath maintaining a poker face (her face is an open book and her emotions lie bare for all to see). She acts on instinct and impulse and does not think of consequences. She is also obtuse about people’s romantic interests / desires towards her, despite acknowledging that she is beautiful and uses it to her advantage in her performances (see the whole movie and her reactions to the three men????). TURN  ONS : Compassion, humour, intelligence, passion. TURN  OFFS : Conceit. Ego. Self-centredness. A person who professes himself to be God’s gift for example will automatically cause her to laugh. HOBBIES : In the Disney verse, she has no time and no means to have hobbies. In the modern verse, she walks the streets and explores cafes, pastry shops, and libraries in her spare time. TROPES : Oh my gosh, so many!  Action Girl Defiant Captive All-Loving Hero Amazon Chaser Barefoot Poverty Green Eyes Lady in Red Madonna–Whore Complex Roma Seeking Sanctuary Totem Pole Trench Woman in White Big "SHUT UP! (thank you TV tropes for this) AESTHETIC  TAGS : forgotten voices, stories without end, endless roads ahead, abandon on stage, lightness of joy, hope for a wiser future. GPOY  QUOTES : “When the whole world is silent, even one voice becomes powerful.”

FC INFO. MAIN  FC / S : Cote de Pablo. ALT  FC / S : None. OLDER  FC / S : None. YOUNGER  FC / S : Harshaali Malhotra as a child FC, which I barely use. VOICE  CLAIM / S : Both Demi Moore (the voice for Disney Esme) and Cote de Pablo have a husky, warm, and soothing quality about their voice. GENDERBENT  FC / S : None.

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?           A1 : I have no imagination. There are film and stage adaptations titled “Esmeralda”, and that’s what I will call it too. It will be filmed in Europe, and it will be a road trip. Q2 : what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?           A2 : Traditional Spanish music. Q3 : why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?           A3 : I have always been a huge fan of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and had a personal blog on Tumblr where I followed many HoND blogs. I then became introduced to the world of role-playing on Tumblr and there were way more HoND RP blogs then. One day, @thecurseisinourblood​ (on an older blog) asked if anyone was interested in writing Esmeralda and that was my downfall. Q4 : what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?           A4 : I remember watching the movie for the first time, and for the first time in a Disney movie, I adored all the characters (I am ambivalent about the gargoyles but let’s leave that aside). Esmeralda was so beautiful and kind and badass and open and honest and and and I loved her ok?!? I’m terribly disappointed that up to today, I have never been able to find her in Disneyland! Q5 : describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.           A5 : Erm, erm, erm, it’s not some much my disliking her for it, but a criticism that I have is that because she tends to act on impulse, she does not consider the repercussions that may follow. This leads to many of the events unfolding in the movie. Q6 : what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?           A6 : Erm, erm, erm, we are both female?!?? Q7 : how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?           A7 : She thinks I’m fine. (Esme being nice to everyone since 1482.) Q8 : what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?         A8 : Claude Frollo, Sora, Christine Daae, The Lady Comstock, Haytham Kenway, Jean Valjean, Javert, Adella, Irene Adler, Pierre Gringoire, Selene, Dodger, Quasimodo, Helga Sinclair, Millie, Monsieur, Raine, I’m pretty sure I forget others! Q9 : what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         A9 : Listening to the soundtrack helps! Q10 : how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?         A10 : Did you think I actually kept time??!?! I came back to this meme a few times over the course of many days before I finished it RIP me.