#but my art style varies ever so slightly between book and show and i feel like something is just off

[lotsofsq]

a series of drawings with both book and show character! featuring; mr curtain peeved he is short and sq cuddles but i drew show sq way too small

[IDs in alt text: three images all drawings.

a drawing of both SQs and both Curtains standing in height order from tallest to shortest, labeled with their heights. book sq is first at 6’5, then nathaniel at 6’1, then show sq at 5’8, ant lastly boom curtain, at 5’6. book sq looks amused and show sq looks interested. both curtains look peeved but book curtain is more upset.

a drawing of book sq and show me benedict grinning at eachother

a drawing of book sq and show sq sitting together, show sq is leaning into book sq’s chest but is also drawn smaller than normally is. he looks peeved while book sq, who is hugging him is laughing. their conversation is; show sq says “he’s not even your dad-” book sq replies “Ha ha! i think it helps he isn’t!” show sq mumbles “maybe”]

[detectivehannibal]

Pretty as a Picture

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Implications of smut.

A/N: Why do I keep disappearing from this blog?? I’ve had this idea for FOREVER. Fun fact about me, I sometimes recycle my works from other blogs. So if you’re curious, this is from my Harry Potter blog @seriouslysnape and here’s the original work.

Word Count: 1,738

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.”

__

On the surface, surprises don’t really seem to come to mind when you think about Hannibal Lecter. The esteemed psychiatrist always came off to you as an open book. He was usually willing to share all aspects of his life with you, which naturally left you believing that there weren’t any secrets lurking further within himself. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

Despite all the things that you didn’t know about Hannibal, you knew him well enough to know the sorts of things that he has a fancy for and the things he doesn’t. As high maintenance and temperamental as he is, he is shockingly easy to please. It’s a bit of an ironic statement, but still the truth nonetheless. 

You could gift Hannibal with something as simple as a pair of socks or with something as extravagant as a brand new luxury suit, and he’d always have the same genuine, appreciative reaction. If something came from you, he would surely love it with his whole heart. 

This gift, however, was on a whole new level.

The idea had honestly come to you at random when you were brainstorming birthday present possibilities. Even though he would never admit it, he was a bit bored of you buying him a new tie for every occasion. He had a tie for every color, pattern, and even he could ever dream of. You wanted to think outside of the box this time. You wanted to come up with something that he would never ever think of. 

On the flip side, you also wanted to be sure that it was something that he could have for a long time and something that would have some real meaning to him. You could always go down the culinary appliance route, but he already had absolutely everything he’d ever possibly want or need. You were in a bit of a rut, but that’s when you got a wonderful thought.

Hannibal didn’t own many personal pictures. Most of the photos in his house were custom made art pieces that were worth more than the price of your left leg alone. Hannibal never struck you as the kind of man to have plethoras of pictures of loved ones, but you still found it odd. It’d be a win-win in your eyes. You’d supply Hannibal with some photos to hold on to, and it’d be a thoughtful gift.

Then your plan took a sultry turn.

You had picked out a large photo album that would match the aesthetic of his house, and an album that would have plenty of pages to fill up. You kept it stashed away in your closet until you were ready to put pictures inside of it when another idea came to mind. 

What if you made a sexy photo album for him?

At first, you were a little sheepish at the idea. Boudoir style pictures showing off only the dirtiest of contents? It seemed like that might be too much and even a bit weird. The longer you thought about it, though, the more and more the idea sounded good. Maybe Hannibal wouldn’t necessarily jump at the gift, but at least he’d have something to jerk off to when you weren’t around.

You assembled as many outfits as you could, some coming from your personal collection and some were purchased as a specialty to the production of the photos. You’d need some help actually having the photos taken, which is why you recruited one of your closest friends.

You could’ve had them professionally done, but you weren’t sure how comfortable you were with a photographer and group of modeling experts studying over your naked body for an entire day. Your friend was stoked for the project and dedicated a whole afternoon while Hannibal was at work to help you out. 

You took probably about a hundred pictures, all with varying poses, outfits, and locations around the house. You even took a few more innocent photos of you just smiling or doing candid things. You figured that you needed some sweet to balance out the spicy. 

You decorated the pages to add some pop and flare, ultimately thrilled with the final product. Hannibal’s birthday was only a few days away, and you were itching to show him what you had made for him. 

“You’re fidgety tonight.” Hannibal spoke from where he was laid out underneath you on the living room sofa. 

It was true, you had been extremely jittery for the last hour and a half, trying to compose yourself. Hannibal had told you that he had wanted nothing more than to have a quiet evening in for his birthday, which you found as a blessing because he’d definitely want to stay around the house after seeing his gift.

“Sorry. Just excited.” You admitted, seeing this as the perfect opportunity.

He raised a brow, looking down at your frame that was practically trembling with explosive animation. 

“I feel as if I don’t need to inform you that my birthday comes around every year,” He joked; “What’s gotten you so elated?”

You smiled up at him with a brightness that was almost blinding. You scrambled off of the sofa at your cue.

“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” You announced as you dashed up the stairs.

Hannibal chuckled to himself, already guessing as to what you were plotting. You returned shortly after with the picture book in hand, complete with a bow on top. You sat with your legs crossed in front of him, eagerly handing it to him.

“It’s not much...just a little something for your birthday.” You explained.

Hannibal sat up from where he was settled into the cushions, eyeing over the cover carefully. It was a beautifully crafted book, the dark leather was absolutely gorgeous. He pushed the bow off of the sides, opening to the very first page to see a sweet note you had written him, signed with your signature and all. He turned to the first page to actually contain photos on it, and a smile of pure joy spread on his face.

You had put all of the non-sexual pictures in the first two pages to disguise the actual reason for the book. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different casual outfits and in different places. 

“Darling, these are wonderful,” He complimented; “They’re stunning, they-”

His heartbeat quickened when he made it to the third page, and he noticed they had taken on a new theme. The scandalous photos were enough to knock him speechless. For the first time ever, you saw Hannibal’s cheeks break out into a deep blush. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing one of his white work shirts with all the buttons undone. The only thing you were wearing underneath was one of his ties settled between your breasts. 

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, red colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and you went back to your original worry that this was a bad idea. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling, because Hannibal Lecter always had something to say. 

Your voice was thick with uncertainty as you spoke to break the silence.

“Hannibal, do you...like them?” You wondered aloud.

His eyes never steered clear from the book in his hands and the photos presented in front of him. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on the massive kitchen counter and giving a look so seductive that it made his belly flutter. The sight of you naked in his culinary world where he spent so much time was a sight to behold.

“[Y/N], I love them. These photographs...they’re beautiful, well produced, and so, so sexy.” He breathed out.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of anticipation as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, his hot blush growing even deeper onto his cheeks. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming dirtier than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

His lips parted slightly ajar as he loomed over them. Your waiting was patient as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. Your suspicions had been correct after all. 

He was going to rock your world.

Hannibal usually didn’t try to make the first move. He always wanted you to initiate sex first. He believed that sex was a passionate, romantic connection that shouldn’t always be fueled by burning want and desire from outside resources. Based on the way he was looking at you though, you could tell that he wanted you BADLY. 

He nonchalantly rolled his hips forward to create some kind of friction. The sneaky grin on your face was almost maddening. The way that your body leaned in and your lips brushed over his just ever so was intoxicating. Your lips traveled to his ear as you purposefully let out a wanton moan to tantalize him. 

“Touch me, Hanni. I know you want to.” You coaxed.

That was all he needed. 

Hannibal lunged forward, smothering your body with his and suffocating you with hot kisses. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you. 

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those outfits under this sweater?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. When Hannibal didn’t want you to go anywhere, then you wouldn’t. You bit down on your lip in a seductive way, breathing out your response to send him into full on love making mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Manga Review - The Conditions of Paradise

One of the most significant and consequential moments in contemporary Western Yuri history occurred at Anime Expo 2019. At the event, Seven Seas Entertainment announced that they had licensed Akiko Morishima’s manga magnum opus, The Conditions of Paradise (Rakuen no Joken). More than any other event in 2019, a year which saw record numbers of Yuri releases, localizations, and mainstream success, Seven Sea’s announcement made me realize how far the Yuri genre had come. The Conditions of Paradise is not a current bestseller like Bloom Into You, nor does it have an impending anime adaptation like Adachi to Shimamura. In fact, this manga was initially released in Japan in 2008, over a decade ago. However, it has cemented its place in history as a groundbreaking landmark work and established Morishima as one of the best Yuri creators of the past 100 years. Now, as I stare at this Yuri masterpiece, gloriously translated for a new English audience to experience, I am nearly overcome with the gravity and awesomeness of the situation. This book is the Holy Grail of Yuri, or rather the Holy Gay-il, and I am beyond privileged to have the chance to witness its English launch.

Grandiose exclamations about the greatness of Yuri aside, The Conditions of Paradise is simply a phenomenal manga. The anthology contains eight chapters, three of which are one-shots and the other five split between two couples. The one-shots feature a variety of plotlines, from a tragic love fantasy to a cute and trope-filled school romp. However, all the chapters focus heavily on the featured characters, exploring their motivations and feelings in deep, meaningful, and complex ways. Even the one-shots find ways to showcase the varied histories, passions, and personalities of the characters.

The first three stories in the manga, “The Conditions of Paradise,” “Beyond the Stars,” and “In Dappled Sunlight,” follow two young women. Itou Sarina is an office worker, and her old friend, Takami Sumi, is a traveling freelance writer who often comes to crash with her. The chapters tell of their relationship nonsequentially, showing the two women as friends, physical companions, and partners. Their relationship is full of care, love, and lust. This story is not a class S style emotional relationship, or a carnal “friends with benefits” deal, but a genuine queer partnership. Through the three chapters, readers see them express their interest and affection for each other, and their desire to grow closer and fall more in love. It is incredibly sweet yet thoroughly grounded.

The following two chapters tell my personal favorite story. It follows the budding relationship of a slightly immature 30-year old art teacher, Kiryuu Keiko, and her 20-year old student, Aoyama Emi, who start a relationship after Emi confesses. Like Sumi and Sarina, the two have no shortage of love between them, with many panels dedicated to Keiko gushing over how amazing Emi is. However, I love this story because of the insecurities expressed by the characters. Keiko has anxiety about being intimate with her partner due to the age difference and concerns about her appearance. Even when she manages to overcome these trepidations, she is worried about how she will come across, questioning if she is being too aggressive or acting like a pervert. The resolutions to these conflicts all come from healthy communication, self-discovery, and working through problems logically and realistically.

As previously stated, the three remaining chapters are one-shots. Of these, my personal favorite is “And We Strive for Love,” which tells a cute story about childhood friend turned couples dealing with childhood trauma and the mother of all height differences. While individually, none of these stories are fantastic, and in the case of “Peach Love,” somewhat dull, though otherwise benign, anthologies must be evaluated as a sum, a homosexual combination of all the queer parts within. Here, The Conditions of Paradise succeeds thanks to its strong characters and realistic romances.

Akiko Morishima’s excellent storytelling and characters are not the manga’s only strong points. Her fantastic artwork adorns every page. Although she is not one to do sweeping dramatic shots or emotional closeups, her stellar and realistic character designs shine, fitting each character’s personality perfectly. Expressions and reactions are often exaggerated for comedic effect without distracting the reader or overly distorting the figures. She also makes excellent use of blank space, focusing on the fantastic characters and their reactions to each other. A panel with two smiling characters so effortlessly communicates the sublime love between the women.

The mature themes of the manga are matched by artwork featuring some salacious segments, including snapshots of sexual encounters. These are thankfully not overly explicit or exploitative, with obscured views such as those seen on the title page. And yet the… “action” is still apparent and erotic. My only complaint again comes from “Peach Love.” The younger characters in this story have an unnatural cherubic expression. The large eyes Morishima favors for all characters are combined with overly rounded faces and plump blushed cheeks. The effect, ironically, is that everyone in that chapter looks to have shoved a few peaches in their mouth and are holding them there like some sapphic chipmunk.

The Conditions of Paradise was one of the first, and maybe one of the greatest, showcases of real lesbian relationships. It is not the temporary schoolgirl loves of class s, a genre which was amid a massive resurgence when The Conditions of Paradise was published. Nor is the manga a pornographic exploitation of women made for the gaze of more sexually charged readers. While it contains depictions of female sex and sexuality, these are honest portrayals and compliment the grounded and thoughtful love stories. It is a masterpiece, a revelation, and one of the most important Yuri works ever created. The Conditions of Paradise’s more distinctive aspects and its value within the genre vastly eclipse any small faults with the story or artwork, resulting in a true classic of the genre.

I am so amazed and humbled to have read this book and to see its English release. Thank you so much to Seven Seas for licensing it and to Elina Ishikawa-Curran for a fantastic translation and Asha Bardon for an equally magnificent adaptation. They, and everyone else who worked on this project, have brought this tremendous offering to a new audience, and I could not be more grateful. The only thing left to do is award this masterpiece the perfect score it deserves.

Ratings: Story – 9 Characters – 10 Art – 7 LGBTQ – 9 Sexual Content – 5 Final – 10

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase The Conditions of Paradise digitally and in print here: https://amzn.to/33GBkmB

Support Yuri manga, anime, and game news, reviews, and more on the YuriMother Patreon and on Twitter @holyyurimother

[teaplease1717]

The Stars Guide Us; They do not Bind Us

Ship: Todoroki Shouto / Yaoyorozu Momo

Rating: T

Words: 9,627

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904745

It’s been a long while since I’ve had a story basically decide to write itself (not since Masquerade) so thank you Haru for creating such beautiful work that I just couldn't stop a plot bunny from forming! The art this story is based on is linked Here!

Also, I'm trying out a new style. Present tense and short little scenes with indirect dialogue. The whole story is meant to be very subtle. Hope you enjoy!

Big shout out to my betas: Kuyashii, and Emberstork.

XXXX

The Stars Guide Us; They do not Bind Us

XXXX

It's useless to dream because nothing ever changes.

Yaoyorozu Momo has come to accept this. The fickleness of fate that young maidens whisper of in wistful voices does not reach her position. Since birth, her destiny, like so many princesses before her, has been inked on vellum contracts and in expensive lineage trees.

So perhaps it is because of this — or despite it — that on dark nights Momo finds herself sneaking out of her bedroom and heading back towards the one wing of the castle where she can pretend, if only for a few hours, that she is the master of her own fate.

Bare feet glide silently as owl wings across cold stone floors. The hallway is empty. There are no tapestries or rugs here, nothing that could mask the footsteps of intruders.

She clutches a golden lantern in her left hand, but it’s unlit.  Momo can’t risk kindling the fire until she is tucked away in the safety of the library where the guards can’t find her — where her cousin, the King, can’t find her.

She knows she has to be careful. Her position is precarious.

When the old king, All Might, had died suddenly without an heir, it had left a vacancy that ambitious nobles quickly rose to contest over. During the ensuing five year war, the first and second successors to the throne were deposed.

It was during this time her cousin, Shigaraki Tomura, claimed the crown.

But his position as monarch remains uncertain. The old nobles don’t truly accept him as king. He wasn’t in line for the throne. And with rumors that the third successor is still alive and working with All Might’s illegitimate son as insurgents, the nobility are divided in their support.

That is why she is here. Due to a complicated and convoluted succession process, she is fourth in line to the crown. If her cousin marries her, the lords that keep to the old ways will fall in line.

She is the link Shigaraki needs to hold the throne.

Momo presses up against the bare stone wall at the juncture of the hallway. The stones chill her through her long nightgown, but she ignores the cold as she holds her breath. Her heart pounds in her chest as she listens for the heavy footfalls of the palace guards.

She may be the link Shigaraki needs to win but her life is still that of a pawn. A piece on her cousin’s chessboard, only slightly more valuable alive than dead. And alive has varying definitions. If her cousin catches her sneaking around, he may not take the kinder definition.  

In the distance an owl hoots.

Momo waits, listening for a moment longer. The corridor is silent, there are no other sounds besides her heartbeat. She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing, then hurries around the corner to stop before two large mahogany doors.

The hallway is too dark to make out the ornate trim that details the tales of heroes and kings of old but Momo remembers the curves and cuts of each story etched into the wood. She cracks one of the doors open just wide enough to slip through.

Inside the library is impressive, larger than anything she has ever seen. Aisles and shelves of books with a large spiral staircase lead to a second story with paths running along with more shelves. A railing of ornate spindle work and gingerbread detailing encloses the balcony.

Against the opposite wall, expansive windows are carved into the stone, providing just enough light to illuminate the library in a soft glow.

Momo closes the heavy door behind her and then makes her way over to ascend the stairs.

Shigaraki never allows her into the library without a chaperone, someone loyal and handpicked by him. And even then he forbids her from the second floor, where books on magic, warfare and independence line the shelves.

A princess shouldn’t concern herself with the topics of men, dear cousin.

Her bare feet patter against the stones. The autumn moon is full tonight, illuminating her path as Momo makes her way down the aisles. The thick tomes that line the shelves stare down at her as if they know that she isn’t allowed, but Momo continues on, towards the back of the library, her sanctuary.

She exits a row of bookshelves and a cold wind blows around her, ruffling her nightgown. Momo instantly stills and looks up. A chill rakes down her spine.

The window before her is open.

The windows in the palace are never open.

Her breath feels like lead in her chest. Momo stumbles back. The shadows behind her shift and a hand suddenly darts out of the darkness, grabbing her and spinning her around to pin her against the bookshelf before she can even scream.

The force knocks the unlit lamp from Momo’s fingers. It clangs as it hits the stone floor and rolls away.

She gasps in shock and a rough hand covers her mouth. Instinctively, Momo’s own hands shot up, trying to pull the intruder’s fingers away, but the grip over her mouth is like a vice. She can’t get free.

The wood of the bookshelf digs into her skin through her nightdress as she struggles.

“Be still,” a man’s deep voice commands close to her ear.

Momo instantly freezes.

Her eyes dart up. An intruder in a black robe looms over her. The hood that covers his face seems to blend his features into the darkness but his eyes shine, silver and a brilliant turquoise.

The deadliness in them is palpable. A wolf in human clothing.

The temperature seems to drop around them. A whimper climbs up Momo's throat as the intruder leans forward and plants his other hand above her head. Their faces are mere centimeters apart now. And she can feel his icy breath upon her cheek.

Momo’s skin prickles and she closes her eyes reflexively. She tries to shrink away, but the bookshelf behind her won’t budge. Her chest stutters in tiny, rapid inhalations as she realizes this may be her last few minutes alive.

I don’t want to die!

I don’t want to die!

It’s not fair...

Everything in her life has been taken from her. Fate has taken her parents. Her home. Her freedom. When will it be enough?

Suddenly, Momo is filled with explosive anger. Her hands tremble. Her life is not her own but she’s still a princess. A Yaoyorozu. Even if destiny wills for her to die here, she will not stand before her fate cowering in fear.

Momo’s fingers tighten on his hand. Her nails bite into his flesh; her eyes snap open, and she glares at him with all the fiery rage she feels at her position in life.

Her anger seems to surprise the intruder. He blinks, his eyes flashing momentarily with an emotion she can’t read, before his expression steels behind a cold wall of insouciance. And Momo feels her anger doused as quickly as it had ignited.

Fear washes back over her. She is suddenly acutely aware of how close he is. How his body is pushed against hers indecently. His leg pressed between her own, pinning her to the wall.

Struggling to tamp down on the panic rising inside of her, Momo forces herself to look back up and meet his silver and blue gaze. His expression is masked as he stares down at her as though considering what to do.

“Don’t scream,” he finally says. Then hesitates, as if unsure, before adding. “Nod if you understand.”

Her heart pounds heavily against her ribs.

It’s a bargain; her life in exchange for silence.

It doesn’t make sense. The rational side of her mind points to the fact that it isn’t beneficial for an intruder to have witnesses.

This could be a trap. A false hope that he will spare her when, in fact, he only intends to rape her before silencing her forever. Momo’s stomach twists.

It’s a gamble, but her options are limited. She will have to take her chances and trust him.

Momo swallows thickly and gives a short jerk of her head in assent.

The intruder studies her for a moment longer, then slowly removes his hand and draws back enough to stare down at her.

She breathes in a shaky breath. Now that he isn’t supporting her, Momo can feel her legs tremble under her own weight. She forces herself to straighten. She will not show weakness.

He watches her with those unnerving eyes for a moment longer, assessing if she will keep her promise. Then he steps back and turns, jumping up onto the open window’s ledge and disappearing into the night.

Momo slides down to the floor and sits frozen, trying to control her heartbeat. Her hands are shaking. She watches the window until her heart stops pounding painfully, then rises and returns to her room, shaken.  

She wonders if she should tell her cousin or at least one of the guards, maybe Iida Tenya, but decides against it.

She is inconsequential, a pawn only slightly more valuable alive then dead.

It would matter little to her cousin if the intruder had killed her.

XXXXX

It takes two weeks before Momo has rebuilt her courage to venture back down the dark, quiet hallways towards the library. The hooded man isn’t there and she feels the tight knot in her stomach uncoil.

Slowly, Momo returns to her normal nighttime routine.

XXXXXX

It’s a moonless night when the dark bandit returns.

There is a soft click of a latch turning. Momo freezes as the air suddenly shifts and the hooded figure appears in the windowsill of the library. His cloak flickers around him, hiding his figure except for those piercing heterochromatic eyes that shine in the glow of her lamp.

There is a moment's pause as they stare at one another. His gray and blue eyes are wide. It is evident he didn’t expect to see her again.

Momo's heart pounds. She can almost imagine him asking if she is going to scream once more. And part of her wonders if she should. It would certainly be the right thing to do. He is an intruder, a thief possibly but — if she alerts the guards — she will be found out and never be able to sneak back into the library.

More than that, the guard on duty, Iida Tenya, will be punished and it will be because of her. She will lose the only person kind to her.

Momo's fingers tighten around the book in her hands. She holds it up slightly, as if in greeting.

The stranger seems to relax at the gesture. He slides silently into the room and disappears down one of the aisles.

Momo sits silently for a moment. When her heartbeat is normal, she returns to her story.

XXXXXX

The dark intruder comes more often after that. His visits are always irregular; sometimes he visits a few days in a row, other times he shows up after a week or two.

Momo suspects that he must have bribed one of the guards to let him in. A regular intruder without connections wouldn’t be able to get past Shigaraki’s men.

Then again, he isn’t a regular intruder.

He moves through the library like a wraith. His magicked cloak swirls around him, blending him into the shadows as he pores over books but he never steals any. He’s smart enough for that.

The walls are enchanted to alert the King’s innermost guards if anyone removes one of the volumes. It’s ancient magic that only those with connections to the royal family and a few select guards know about.

She wonders how he learned.

Perhaps it comes with the trade.

XXXXXX

He has pulled back his hood to read and it’s the first time Momo is able to glimpse what the dark intruder looks like.

The light from her golden lamp shines, highlighting short hair that is perfectly split between red and white. It is unique coloring and not a surprise that he has to use an enchanted cloak to disguise his features.

Her eyes trail lower over his face. There’s a scar covering his left eye that she hasn’t noticed before. But in the flickering light of her lantern, she can distinguish the discolored flesh.

A curse mark.

Probably meant to kill him, but perhaps miscast or canceled. Incomplete.

He’s lucky to be alive.

XXXXXX

Momo stumbles forward with a gasp before catching herself. The bones of the corset bite into her flesh through the silk undergarments, cinching her waist smaller.

Her personal handmaid - the only maid who never changes - Himiko Toga, stands behind her pulling on the lace strings.

“No pain, no gain,” Toga says in a sing-song voice. “With my help, you’ll be the most beautiful lady in all the land. I’m like your personal fairy godmother! Got to look after my sweet, sweet princess.”

Momo doesn't say anything.

Toga hums happily as she ties the lace along Momo’s spine. While she works, Momo testingly draws in a slow breath before a sharp pain pokes her as the whale bones squeeze her waist.

She can't breathe.

XXXXXX

Her mouth is dry as she stares at the red and orange flames flickering in the intruder’s hand.

Momo doesn’t know many mages. Sorcery is rare and elemental magic even rarer.

It is said that the old emperor of the Northern lands had been a conjurer of flames, his wife an enchantress of ice. His disowned son, Toya, certainly has his father’s fire magic coursing through his veins. Momo has seen her cousin’s right hand man demonstrate his gift enough to know.

But Toya’s flames are blue and blistering hot. Meant to incinerate and strike fear into all who behold them, allies and foes alike.

The intruder’s fire is warm, and Momo realizes she doesn’t mind it.  

XXXXXX

Momo settles back into her usual spot on the floor. It gives her the best view of the entire library, while also allowing for her to remain hidden.

“You really have this down.”

Momo looks up at the dark intruder. He rarely speaks.

She licks her lips. “Yes,” she says after a moment. “I have to be careful if I don’t want to get caught. People in the castle aren't stupid. The guards have been trained by my cousin, Shigaraki. The only way to stay ahead is by being smarter.”

He nods and turns back to look down at the table where a new set of books are laid out.

Momo watches him for a few moments before returning to her own volume.

XXXXXX

“What are you looking for?” Momo asks one night.  

The dark intruder looks up. The light of his flames reflect off of his eyes making him look ferocious.

Momo forces herself to relax as she approaches and places her lamp on the table. It’s been long enough that she knows he won’t hurt her. She pushes her loose hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t have anything else to do. I don’t mind helping you search.”

He stares at her and his eyebrows furrow as if trying to read her intentions.

Momo is tempted to roll her eyes but refrains herself. It isn’t lady-like.

She looks down at the table and pulls over one of the books he has discarded, History of Curses and Ailments . She flips it open.

“It’s not all out of charity, just so you know,” she says after a moment. Momo doesn’t need to see him to feel her companion’s eyes narrow. “The faster you find what you’re looking for the sooner you’ll leave, and the risk of me being found decreases.”

She looks up and meets his gray and turquoise gaze. His expression is a mask, and she says. “Think of it as a mutual symbiotic relationship.”

He stares at her, and Momo thinks a faint smile pulls at his lips but it may be a trick of the lamplight.

XXXXXX

“It’s for a client,” the intruder says.

Momo looks up from her book at the sound of his voice. It’s deep and husky, pleasing to listen to. “What is?”

“What I’m searching for. My client asked me to look up a cure for a curse he got during the war.”

Momo nods. Then she tilts her head to the side to study him. “But why here? Surely there are safer places to search in than sneaking into the king’s castle.”

He hesitates for a moment. “I’ve been told this is the best library in all of the country. The old king supposedly liked to collect information on countering dark magic.”

XXXXXX

Momo stares out her bedroom window at the snow now covering the palace grounds.

It’s lonely and cold in her cousin’s castle with nothing to do besides watch the days slip by.

Sometimes Momo has to wonder if it’s her destiny to decay away in her cousin’s palace.

XXXXXX

“Will you tell me what it’s like outside?”

The dark intruder’s fingers still. “What do you mean?”

Momo looks down. “I don’t get news about the outside world. I’d like to know what is happening.”

“Why don’t you ask one of your handmaids? They’d tell you.”

“I can’t.” Momo’s lips twist. “They’re all assigned by my cousin. And Shigaraki changes most of them every few weeks.”

The intruder seems to consider this. “Don’t you have any friends?”

Momo shakes her head. “There is a guard who is kind to me. Sir Iida. But we don’t speak much. He’s the reason I’m able to sneak in here at night. If he spots me I’ll get a scolding but he doesn’t tell Shigaraki.”

The intruder studies her. “What about your parents? They don’t bring you outside?”

Momo looks down at the page open in front of her. “My parents died a few years ago. The insurgents supposedly attacked their carriage on the way home from the capital.”

The dark intruder is silent for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Momo drags in a shaky breath. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”  

XXXXXX

Snow drifts down slowly outside the library window.

Momo’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Socks?”

The intruder shifts. “Your feet are cold, aren’t they?”

Momo blinks and curls her toes against the stone floor. She has gotten used to wandering the castle barefoot. Her wardrobe is in the room next to the maid Shigaraki has assigned her. There is no way for her to sneak out any garments without Toga Himiko knowing.  

The intruder must take her silence as objection. “If you don’t want them I’ll take them back.”

“No,” Momo says quickly, shaking her head and reaching for the woolen pair of socks in his hand. “Thank you. You’re-you’re very considerate.”

He shrugs and looks away. “It's winter and you’re barefoot. If you’re worried about your handmaids finding them, I can bring them with me when I visit.”

Momo fingers the pair of socks. They’re nicely made. Thick wool of high quality. She looks up and gives him a small smile. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

The back of her neck feels warm.

XXXXXX

“There’s been rumors that Lord Aoyama, from the south, may be... sympathetic to the bastard’s side. Maybe even housing some of the bastard’s men.”

“Oh?” Shigaraki raises a brow, and a small smile curls on his lips as he picks up his golden chalice. “We better invite Lord Aoyama to come assure us of where his loyalties lie.”

“Of course, my liege.” The knight bows his head, but doesn’t move to stand.

Shigaraki’s eyes narrow slightly. “Is there something else?” he asks, looking over his cup.

The knight hesitates; his eyes glance towards Shigaraki’s left where a man with dark burn wounds sits pushing around the food on his plate.

Todoroki Toya — her cousin’s right hand man and the Lord of the North.

Momo finds it interesting that her cousin keeps him around. He would have been the heir to the throne if not for his father disowning him and naming his youngest son his successor.

But then again, her cousin has always liked violence and Toya has a disposition for it.

“You can speak freely, knight.” Shigaraki’s voice is light, but there is a hint of impatience laced in his words.

The man lowers his head. “Of course, my king.” He clears his throat. “There have been rumors that the Lord Toya’s brother is among the men.”

This catches the burned man’s attention and he sits forward in his chair. “Oh? Is that so...And you’re sure of these rumors?”

The man nods. “One of the spies identified a man with a curse mark that is identical to the one my Lord gave to his brother.”

Momo doesn’t have to see Toya’s face to know the maniacal gleam in his eyes. Even she knows of his hatred for his younger brother. “I better have a look myself then.”

Shigaraki waves him away blithely.

“Do you hear that, dear cousin?” he asks, once the men are gone. His smile is a little too wide. “We’ll catch those traitors who killed your parents. I swear to you that I’ll make sure your parents are avenged.”

Momo lowers her head and dips a spoonful of steaming soup, but it tastes cold on her tongue.

XXXXXX

“Are you not researching the curse tonight?”

Her companion’s fingers still over a leather bound book. Momo notes that he seems more haggard tonight. Dark circles sit under his striking heterochromatic eyes and his red and white hair is unbrushed.

It’s the first time he’s visited in a while.

“I’ve… gotten a sudden urge to read about Hizashi Yamada,” he says slowly.

“The war general?”

He doesn’t answer and instead pulls the book down from the shelf.

Momo swallows thickly as she watches him leaf through a few pages. Her hands tighten around the sides of the books in her arms, and she looks away. “Yamada — he always gets the most attention, but he was just a peacock in uniform. My favorite general is Tsunagu Hakamada, for his tactics.”

She can feel her companion’s eyes on her. Momo licks her lips and wavers, for a moment, before moving towards a bookshelf further towards the back of the library. She can’t hear her companion’s footfalls but knows he is following her.

Momo stops in front of one of the shelves. Her eyes run along all the spines before reaching up and pulling a plain book from the shelf. “Yamada had a good publisher, but his strategies weren’t all that sound. Tsunagu is the better strategist.”

Her companion raises a brow as he stares at her, and Momo gets the impression that he is coming to a new conclusion about her. “I didn’t know they taught war strategies in Princess class?”

Momo shifts. Her cheeks feel warm. “They don’t.” She looks down at her feet. “I have a lot of free time.”

“I’ll take your advice,” he says after a moment.

XXXXXX

Momo stares blankly, trying to disassociate from the scene. The rowdy crowds. The wooden stand. The line of the usurper's men kneeling before the blade.

She is dressed in her best; Shigaraki wouldn't have her in anything less when he is trying to make an example. Her mother's prized golden necklace with a Phoenix tear hangs around her neck.

Shigaraki curls his hands into tight fists on the arms of his chair. His knuckles are white.

The majority of the usurper’s men have escaped, and her cousin is craving vengeance for the embarrassment. The golden crown reflects off of his white hair like a halo, and he smiles, his eyes shining in malicious glee.

The crown sitting atop her cousin’s head is gold adorned with rubies and diamonds.

It is a symbol of power. A symbol of the prosperity and richness of their nation.

Momo thinks it’s hideous.

She crosses her hands demurely in front of herself to hide the shaking. She knows if she shows any emotions that she will pay for it later. Her cousin doesn’t like weakness.

Shigaraki raises his hand and the crowd roars. The executioner raises his sword.  

Momo hopes in her next life she can be someone strong enough to save others.

XXXXXX

“What are you doing?”

The night air shifts behind her and Momo can feel her companion looking over her shoulder. Her stomach curls slightly but she ignores the feeling.

“Coming up with a cure for your client,” Momo says without looking up as her quill scratches out a point. “We haven’t found a counter spell to your patron’s dark curse, so I’m inventing one.”  

“Do you think you can?” He sounds almost curious.

“We’ll see, but I think I can.”

XXXXXX

The glass smashes as it hits against the wall. Her cousin paces up and down the room trembling in fury at the news that the usurper's men have not been caught. His hand travels up to his neck, and he scratches himself until blood runs in rivulets down his pale skin like red streams.

Momo stares silently at the floor and imagines that fate has made her someone else. Although she knows it is useless. Dreams aren’t meant for princesses.

XXXXXX

“I wish I were a man. Then I could do whatever I wanted,” she says at the end of one night.

“What would that be? A pirate?” She can almost hear the hint of a smile in his voice. And she can’t help but feel pride for being the one to change his mood.

He’s been quieter and angrier than usual.

Momo leans forward to poke him, but he dodges away easily. Momo huffs. “Do I look like a pirate to you?”

“No, you’re too clumsy.”

She goes to poke him again but, as if the universe wants to prove his point, her nightgown catches on the side of the table. Momo stumbles. Her companion catches her arm, steadying her.

Momo feels her face warm. She looks away as he releases her and bends down to deftly untangle the edge of her nightgown from where it’s caught.

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

He nods, straightening. The playfulness has dissipated from the room. They collect the books from the table and begin to reshelf them.

There were more deaths that week. More insurgents from All Might’s illegitimate son’s army. She had stood there as they burned, unable to do anything to stop it, unable to make her cousin reconsider their sentence.

She is powerless and she hates it.

“I-I think in my next life I’d like to be a knight,” she says quietly as she pushes the last book back into place and settles back down onto her feet. “I’d like to be someone who can make my own destiny. Maybe I could even leave here, roam the land, protect those in need.” She turns and leans against the wooden bookcase. Her throat feels tight. “It…it feels very confining to be a woman, and a princess most of all.”

The cloak casts dark shadows over her companion’s face but Momo can feel his attention on her. She licks her lips and turns to lean back against the bookcase.

She’s never told anyone these dreams before. Men don’t want to listen to a woman’s silly thoughts.

Her companion is different. He has never judged her for her mind but it is still awkward to voice her dreams aloud, like touching a fresh cut. You never know how bad the sting will be.

And she is ready for the sting. He stares at her for so long Momo is about to recant her ideas when he says. “If you’re a knight, maybe I’d be a princess and you can protect me.”

Momo blinks at his strange answer and then laughs. She can’t remember the last time she laughed. She has forgotten how freeing it is.

“I think I’d like that.”

XXXXXX

Momo isn’t a romantic. Someone in her position in life does not get that luxury. She will be married off for political stability. But sometimes, in the dead of night, as she watches her companion’s long fingers flip through pages of old worn books with gentle tenderness, she wonders if this is what it would feel like if she were to be in love.

She pushes those thoughts away quickly. Thinking about something that isn’t for her, won’t do any good.

Her fate has been set since the moment she was born, and nothing will change it.

XXXXXX

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to break it.”

Momo stares at the ruby that has fallen out of the golden crown. She swallows thickly and kneels down next to the maid with short brown hair.

She reaches out and covers the woman’s hands with her own. They both knew the maid shouldn’t be in the throne room. “It’s okay. I’ll handle it.”

“But my princess!”

“It’s okay. I’ll tell my cousin it was me.”

“But—he’ll be furious!”

Momo avoids the maid’s gaze. “It’s okay. I’ll think of something.”

The woman looks up at Momo with a mixture of relief and fear.

Momo reaches out and strokes her short brown hair. This is the only way Momo can help. If her cousin knows who ruined the crown, the maid will be beheaded. The only way to save her is to take the blame.

Her life may be a pawn but she is more valuable alive than dead…for now at least.

XXXXXX

“What’s that?”

Momo’s hands still on the page as light footfalls draw closer. She drops her hand holding the lantern by her side and looks down, hoping her long hair and the dark of the library will hide the ugly purple bruising climbing up her neck and splaying over her cheek.

He stops in front of her. Then warm fingers grasp her chin. Momo flinches slightly at his touch, but her companion doesn’t seem to notice as his hand gently lifts and turns her head towards him. “What happened?”

The words almost sound angry.

Momo stares at his chin. A small, bitter smile curls on her lips. “I did something I shouldn’t have.” She tries to pull back, but his fingers tighten. Not painfully, but enough to keep her in place. “It's nothing.”

The room is cold, even for it being the beginning of spring. She can see her breath in the air.

Momo reaches up and touches the back of his hand, but he doesn’t remove his fingers. His flesh, just moments before warm, is now icy and rough, like rocks.

“Does this happen often?” Her skin prickles as his breath ghosts over her skin. A shiver runs down her spine.

She thinks his voice is lower and darker than usual, but it could be her imagination. There is no reason for him to care.

“Sometimes,” she says after a moment. Her opposite hand curls tighter around the lantern handle. “When I anger him.”

Her companion stares at her for a moment longer, before releasing her and stepping away. He pulls his hood up, hiding his expression and the dark stones that have started to protrude from his skin.

He’s quiet and leaves soon after. It is probably for the best. Momo shouldn’t get her hopes up that he cares.

Dreams aren’t meant for princesses.

XXXXXX

“Here. I brought you something.”

Momo looks up from the book she is poring over, surprised.

Her companion steps closer. Momo holds out her hand, and he drops a pouch into it. It’s unremarkable, a brown drawstring bag that feels weightless in her hands.

He steps back and stares at her. His expression is carefully masked, but something in his posture almost seems uncertain. “It's not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

Momo stares at him for a moment then slowly opens it. A small object no larger than a pebble falls into her hand and her breath catches.

She feels her heartbeat quicken.

The stone is small, an oval the size of a pebble, but it's radiant.

Her hand shakes. Carefully, she holds it up. Glowing reds and golds shimmer forming dark clouds that morph into luminescent fog. The remnants of ancient magic linger along the smooth edges.

Momo can barely breathe. “A creation stone,” she whispers, voice quivering.

“Do-do you not like it?” he asks softly from next to her.

Her vision blurs. The stone can only be mined in her family’s lands; there haven’t been any found in hundreds of years.

She shakes her head. “It’s beautiful.” The words don’t give it justice. It’s like starlight—an entire nebula—caught inside a stone. “Why?” Her voice trembles.

“I thought you’d like it.”

Momo wants to cry, instead she smiles and holds it up to the moonlight. It gleams and Momo can almost imagine the magic shimmering around it.

She closes her eyes and makes a wish, even though she knows that it’s useless. The magic has left the stone a long time ago.

XXXXXX

“I finished.” She hands him a piece of paper. Her throat is tight, like the words are bitter honey sticking in her mouth. “This is a list of ingredients your patron will need for the reversal spell. Most of the ingredients are easy enough to find but...”

Her companion takes the slip and scans it. His face grows ashen. “A phoenix tear?” His hands tighten around the piece of paper until his knuckles are white. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Momo avoids his gaze. “I did the calculations and formulas a number of times. It’s the only way.”  

His shoulders slump forward. “It would take forever to find a phoenix tear — There must be another way.”

Momo doesn’t say anything. Sometimes there is only one way. Destiny isn’t that kind.

XXXXXX

Her companion continues to visit, looking for an alternative spell to counter the curse. Momo wonders every time he leaves if that will be the last time she will see him. She doesn’t understand what drives him. Why is finding a cure so important?

XXXXXX

“I was thinking it was about time we married. The summer solstice is coming up…that seems like a good time. What do you say, my dear cousin?” Shigaraki turns to her, his eyes dance with cruel glee.

Her stomach twists.

I don’t want to marry you.

The words echo in her heart, but Momo doesn’t say them aloud. Her fate has always been to be queen. She folds her hands respectfully in front of herself and lowers her eyes. “As you wish, my king.”

He smiles; it’s the response he wants to hear.

XXXXXX

Momo stands before her window looking out at the moon kissed grounds beginning to bloom with summer flowers – hydrangeas and hyacinths.

The creation stone feels heavy in her hands. She brings it up to her lips and presses the rock to her mouth as she says a silent prayer.

Then she goes over to her jewelry chest and opens it. She locks the stone back into its secret compartment. Then takes a deep, steadying breath and pulls out her mother’s phoenix necklace and slides it into her nightgown pocket.

XXXXXX

“I wanted to say goodbye. This is the last time I will be able to see you.”

Her companion looks up sharply.

Momo opens and closes her mouth several times before she is able to put the truth into words. “I’ll-I’ll be getting married in two weeks. On the summer solstice.”

There is a resounding silence, as her companion stares at her. His turquoise and gray eyes shine brightly, like fallen stars.

She sees his hands curl slowly into fists at his side.

“How do you feel about that?” he asks after a moment. There is a faint tightness in his voice but his expression is masked.

She opens her mouth and hesitates. “I’m scared,” she finally admits in a soft voice barely above a whisper. She looks down at the stone floor as her vision begins to blur. Her feet are covered in the woolen socks. “I don’t want to get married.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees her companion move closer until he stands near enough that his dark robe almost brushes against her gown.

Momo swallows. Her hands twitch by her side. If she reaches out, she can grasp onto his cloak.  But she knows she shouldn’t. If she touches him now, she worries she won’t be able to let go.

Her fingers tremble. She brings a hand up to curl over her heart as she bundles her courage and looks up to meet his gaze.

“May I ask a favor before you go?” Momo whispers.

He stares at her intently, and she takes it as a sign of acceptance. She inhales slowly.

“Would you kiss me?”

His eyes widen marginally, and Momo continues before she loses her nerve. “It’s silly, I know. But I want my first kiss to be with someone I choose. Someone not my cousin.”

She can see her dark companion’s jaw tighten. His expression flashes for an instant. A myriad of emotions flicker behind his heterochromatic gaze so fast she doesn’t have time to read them before his mask slips back in place and he stares at her.

Momo looks away. Her chest hurts. She thinks he is going to reject her when he takes a step closer, planting a hand above her head. She can feel the heat of his body through his robe.

His other hand comes up. His fingers brush against the column of her throat before his thumb slides up to nestle under her jaw and he gently lifts her chin, leaning forward. Momo’s heart stutters, and she closes her eyes as his lips skim against hers.

It’s a chaste kiss and so gentle her heart aches.

And it doesn’t last long enough.

He pulls back slightly and Momo opens her eyes. He’s staring at her, his expression intense. “Run away with me. Right now. I’ll protect you.”

Momo’s heart skips a beat as his breath brushes over her lips. Hope and longing fill her chest.

It would be so easy to leave and forget everything. She could create her own destiny. But — she is a princess and her cousin, nor would fate, ever let her go so easily. Someone always has to pay.

Momo draws in a quivering breath and shakes her head. Her chest hurts. “I-I can’t.” Her voice breaks slightly.

The necklace in her pocket is heavy. She swallows and reaches into her dress and slides a finger over the curve of the pendant before pulling it out.

“I brought you something to say goodbye.” Her voice is small. She holds out the golden necklace and places it gently in his open hand. “It was my mother’s. The phoenix tear in the middle should be the last piece you need for the spell.” Gently, she closes his fingers over the pendant.

Her fingers are shaking and she withdraws her hands quickly to curl behind her back. There is a sharp tightness in her chest. “Remember your patron will need about a week or more to recover. Having been cursed for so long will take a lot of energy to undo. Make sure he only has his best men around him during that time.”

Her companion doesn’t respond. He continues to stare at her, his gaze piercing as if he is trying to memorize what she looks like, but perhaps that is just her own reflection shining back at her.

He doesn’t come again after that night.

XXXXXX

The palace is in an uproar. The usurpers have planned well.

They attacked the northern lands drawing Toya away before staging the main assault on the castle, the day of her wedding.

Momo stands in her room, dressed in rich silks. Her hands shake and she clasps them together over her chest as she listens to the shouts and the clang of steel that echo throughout the palace.

Toga Himiko stands by her side. Her eyes shine, but Momo has a feeling it's not from the same emotion as the one making her own heart rate spike.

The screams draw nearer. Momo’s lips tremble and her eyes dart to her dresser and the jewelry case sitting on top. Her creation stone is locked securely in its compartment but she wishes she were holding it.  

“Looks like the usurper is here,” Toga says thoughtfully. Momo looks back at her and the maid’s eyes flash and suddenly Momo is on the floor. Her head rings from the impact against the stones. There is something wet in her hair.

Toga straddles her. A knife flashes down towards Momo’s throat and instinctively she reaches up and closes her hand around Toga’s, trying to push the steel away from her jugular.

For being of smaller stature, Toga is strong and gravity is on her side. Her maid laughs. “Stop struggling, my princess. Your king doesn’t want his precious cousin to be defiled on her wedding day by these cruel, cruel men. This is the sweeter way out.” Her smile is deranged.

The blade lowers.

Momo strains. Years of inactivity weigh against her. Her arms begin to give.

The knife inches lower. A drop of liquid rolls down her throat.

Bang!

Suddenly the door of her room slams open and Toga is gone; a woman with short brown hair is standing over her, breathing hard.

The maid from the throne room, Momo realizes.

The woman’s expression is ferocious as she holds up her short sword covered in blood. When it is clear that Toga won’t be moving, the maid kneels quickly by Momo’s side and helps her sit up. There is a sharp pain at the base of her skull, and when Momo touches it, blood covers her fingertips.

“Are you alright?” the maid asks. Her eyes shine with unfiltered worry.

Momo doesn’t know. Her heart is racing in her chest. She stares past the maid at Toga’s slumped form against the wall. The maid notices, and her expression hardens. Her fingers tighten around Momo as her chocolate eyes meet hers.

“I won’t let her harm you. I won’t let anyone harm you. This time I’ll be the one to protect you. I made a promise to him.”

Momo doesn’t dwell on what the woman means. Hope is a dangerous thing, and dreams haven’t ever been for princesses.

XXXXXX

The battle ends. Her cousin flees, and All Might’s illegitimate son, Izuku Midoriya, takes the castle.

Celebratory singing fills every corner of the palace.

The once quiet dining room is alight with laughter and feasting. Midoriya sits in her cousin’s seat. Flanking his left side is a blonde man with beady red eyes and Sir Iida. On his right is the maid, Ochako Uraraka - who it turns out, isn’t really a maid but a lady from a small southern province that has sided with Midoriya.

Momo sits next to Lady Uraraka, who chats happily about the future.

Momo tries to listen but can’t. She can barely eat. Her stomach keeps twisting as she unconsciously glances around the room.

Uraraka reaches over and squeezes her arm. “It’s okay. He’s fine. You don’t need to worry. Todoroki’s strong.”

Momo wants to ask who Todoroki is, but then the towering doors at the other end of the hall open and Momo’s heartbeat jumps as a man with red and white hair strides in.

He’s different from her memories. The black robe is gone, replaced with a blue uniform but it’s him - her dark companion.

She wants to be shocked to see him or at least surprised but she isn’t. She realizes she’s known for a while — perhaps for months now — that he is a fighter in All Might’s illegitimate son’s army. She just has never acknowledged it.

His heterochromatic eyes scan the room and Momo’s breath catches in her throat as he glances towards her. It’s slight but something in his shoulders seems to visibly relax as their eyes meet. Then he looks away as he moves closer.

“Lord Todoroki!” Midoriya says, his smile widening as he stands.

The man on Midoriya’s other side growls. “What the fuck are you doing here half and half? What about the north?” — Captain Bakugou, Uraraka whispers to her — “You didn’t just run with your tail between your legs did you?”

Todoroki stops at the edge of the table. Up close she can see his blue uniform is haggard. He still has the curse mark over his left eye, but now Momo also notes he has a new burn wound on his right cheek. She clasps her hands together on her lap to stop her fingers from twitching.

“It's secured,” Her dark companion — Todoroki says. His usual husky voice has a slight raspiness to it that makes Momo’s chest ache. No one else seems to notice as the hall erupts in cheers and loud banging of cutlery. “I defeated my brother. I came to report and...”  He trails off and Momo thinks she is imagining it as his eyes flicker towards her.

Midoriya's eyes shine and he nods. “Of course, there will be plenty of time to talk after dinner. Join us.”

XXXXXX

The moon is high in the sky when dinner ends and yet the dining room is still packed. Momo tucks behind a column as the men and women of Midoriya’s army clear the tables to make space for dancing.

Across the room Uraraka sings drunkenly with a group of men and women. Momo smiles faintly. Then turns and leans back against the pillar, closing her eyes.

She breathes deeply. Her fingers twitch. It’s been a long time since she has experienced an event like this.

“Yaoyorozu.”

Momo eyes snap open and she looks up. “Lord Todoroki,” she says, straightening. Her cheeks warm. It’s strange referring to him as anything but as her dark companion. “I was just taking a moment.”

She wants to touch the creation stone that now hangs on a pendant beneath her dress but forces herself not to.

“I see.” His expression betrays nothing as he moves closer. He stops in front of her and his eyes roam over her face before narrowing. “Your neck…” He reaches out slowly as if to touch her.

Momo feels her face warm and her hand instinctively reaches up to her throat and the shallow cut running across her jugular. “It’s nothing,” she says quickly. “Lady Uraraka saved me before anything could happen.”

Todoroki drops his hand and inhales slowly.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he finally says. His voice is rough, as if the words are hard to say. Perhaps they are. Her gaze lingers over his face, noting the scars and burns along his skin. The frayed edges of his uniform.

The battle up North must have been difficult.

Her heart clenches as Momo mets his eyes. “I’m glad you’re alright as well.” She swallows and gives him a small smile. “And congratulations on your victory. I expect you won’t want to wait for your coronation.”

His expression hardens. “No,” he rasps.

Momo blinks. “No?”

“I’m not going to be king.”

“You’re not going to be king?” Momo repeats slowly. Her heartbeat quickens.

Todoroki straightens as he looks back at her. His eyes shine in the candlelight. “No. I’m not.”

“But why?” Her eyebrows furrow. “Men kill for the crown. My cousin killed for it.” She reaches up and curls her hand over her chest, she can feel the creation stone underneath the rich fabrics but it doesn’t provide her the strength she is used to. “You were next in line.”

He breathes deeply. “I know.”

“I don’t understand.” There’s a sinking sensation in her stomach.

He swallows visibly and looks away. “I’m tired of all the fighting.” His hands fist at his side. “I want to live quietly; I will still serve but, the duty, the responsibility, the politics of the crown - I don’t want it. The crown should go to the one most qualified. I think a piece of me even resents it.” he says. There is a tightness in his jaw

Oh.

Her mouth closes. The sentiment stings with familiarity. It’s a thought she herself has had but never put into words. She wets her lips. “Then...who?” she forces out.

“Midoriya.”

Momo inhales slowly through her nose. “I see.” There is a lump in her throat that makes it hard to breathe. She folds her hands together in front of her. “He seems kind and clever enough.”

Todoroki nods and looks back at her. “He’ll make a good king.” His voice is filled with conviction.

He truly believes it.

She swallows thickly. “So you’ll leave again after the coronation?”

Todoroki’s expression flickers and he almost looks regretful. “Before.” He slides his hands into his uniform pockets. “The north has always been harder to control. Midoriya needs someone he can trust up there, and Bakugo’s personality isn’t the right fit. Our summoner, Majestic, is bringing me back tomorrow.”

A bitter taste fills her mouth, but Momo ignores it.  “Is that how you were always able to visit the library? Your summoner transported you across the country?”

Todoroki nods. “Yeah, as long as you've been to a place before Majestic's magic can teleport you there and back again. That’s how I was able to get here tonight.”

She drops her eyes to stare at the stones under her feet. “I see.”

A lute starts up.

“Yaoyorozu.” She looks up and meets Todoroki’s eyes. He’s staring at her intently now. “Thank you.”

Momo gives him a small smile. “I didn't do anything to be thanked for. You’re the hero of the North.”

“That’s not true.” His voice is firm and he steps forward. He pulls his hand from his pocket and hesitates for a moment, before reaching up and pushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. Momo’s breath hitches as his fingers skim against her cheek.

“You saved me. You created complex magic to break my curse. Gave me the phoenix tear. You helped devise battle tactics that saved countless men and women. And you used yourself as a shield to protect Uraraka. You can’t say you didn’t do anything. Out of all of us you’re the hero.”

Momo gasps and her breath hitches in her chest. She presses the back of her hand to her mouth and looks away.

He is standing close. As close as he had the night she had requested for him to kiss her. Momo keeps thinking he will move away, but he doesn’t. After a moment, she feels something brush against the back of her hand and she looks down as his fingers slide against hers. “What will you do now?”

Her chest aches. Momo opens her mouth and then closes it. “I don’t know,” she finally says. Her voice wavers. “I’ve been here for so long, this is all I know.”

He regards her silently for a moment then looks away and clears his throat. “Perhaps, you can visit the North someday. I—”

“Lord Todoroki.” Momo jumps back and turns as Midoriya pokes his head around the column. “We’re going to meet now.”

Todoroki’s expression betrays nothing. He nods. “I’ll be right there.”

Midoriya glances at her and gives Momo a tentative smile, before disappearing back behind the column.

Momo’s chest tightens as she drags her gaze back to Todoroki. She presses her lips into a thin line. “I guess this is goodbye then.”

Todoroki’s expression flickers. He reaches out and his fingers skim down her arm to catch her fingers and he brings Momo’s hand up to press a kiss to the back of her skin. Momo’s heart stutters. He straightens and his expression is serious as he meets her eyes.

“You're free now, princess. You can do whatever you want,” he says, letting go of her hand.

XXXXXX

“Lady Yaoyorozu?”

Momo blinks in surprise and turns from the window to see Midoriya at the edge of the library staircase. “May I join you?”

She drops her hands from where they twist in her necklace and curtsies. “Of course, my king.”

He blushes and his hands fidget. “Not quite yet, but I guess that means you’ve heard that Lord Todoroki is stepping down from the line of succession?” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck.

Momo’s expression hardens and she looks out the window at the men gathering below. “Yes. Lord Todoroki told me last night.”

“I see,” Midoriya says.

Runes are drawn in the dirt. Portals to bring them back north.

“Do you have anything in mind what you’ll do now?”

Momo looks back at him. “Aren’t we to be married?”

“What?!” Midoriya’s voice cracks.

Momo stills. “Was that not why you requested to join me?” Her mouth is dry.

Midoriya’s face turns red and he sputters. “I don't - That’s not - We aren’t getting married. That’s not what I was coming out here to talk to you about."

“Then,” Momo’s eyebrows furrow, confused. “What may I assist with?”

Midoriya smiles shakily. The redness starts to fade from his cheeks. “I was wondering if you have any plans now for your future? And I don’t mean getting married to me!” he adds quickly.

Momo’s lips thin, and she shakes her head. “No.” She reaches up and rubs her opposite arm. “I don’t have any family left or a place to call home. I thought - but if we aren’t...” she trails off.

Midoriya smiles sympathetically. “Well, we could use your expertise here if you are willing.”

Momo blinks. “Lord Midoriya?”

He stares at her, his forest green eyes serious. “Your operations and strategies led us to victory countless times, and Todoroki told me you were the one who discovered how to break his curse. We could really use your help as an advisor to the crown. I mean – only if you want to.”

Momo is silent for a moment. Unconsciously, her fingers reach up and touch the creation stone hanging from the pendant around her neck. “Thank you but I - I don’t think I want to stay here. The palace – this place has been my prison since my parents died. I don’t know where I’ll go but,” she hesitates and swallows. Todoroki’s words from the night before echo through her and settle in her chest. Momo inhales a shaky breath. “I’ve come to resent my position in life,” she says softly.

Midoriya’s green eyes soften.  "I understand.” He looks back down at the men below the library window. “But you don’t have to be here to advise the crown,” he says after a moment.

“My lord?” Momo tilts her head.

Midoriya smiles wistfully. “The road to reconciliation is going to be long and we could really use your assistance. The country is big. You don’t have to stay here. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?"

Momo’s throat feels tight. Outside, sunlight reflects off of red and white hair as Todoroki walks amongst the men, preparing for their departure.

Her fingers tighten around the creation stone.

Her heartbeat quickens as a foreign feeling fills her chest. “If – If I may, I think I know where I’d like to go.”

XXXXXX

“Lord Todoroki, wait!” Momo calls as she hikes up her dress and hurries through the crowd of men gathering in the yard.

The sun shines down brightly from a cloudless sky.

Todoroki looks up. "Yaoyorozu!” He steps forward as she stops in front of him. “I was looking for you,” he says, his gray and blue eyes study her face. “I wanted to see you once more before I leave."

Momo shakes her head and smiles. “I’m going with you.”

“What?” Todoroki blinks, owlishly.

“I’m – King Midoriya has asked me to be an advisor to the crown and gave his permission for me to assist with the northern reconciliation” She raises her head and juts out her chin. “I’m going with you.”

Todoroki opens his mouth and then closes it and his lips thin. “Are you sure? The north is harsh and they keep to the traditional ways. There are easier lands to help reconcile.”

“I know.” Momo hesitates.

Does he not want her to join him?

She licks her lips and summons her courage to meet his gaze. “But you’ll be there,” she whispers.

Todoroki’s eyes widen a fraction, then his expression softens and it’s like ice melting in the summer sun as he smiles. "I see.” His eyes are silver and turquoise as he stares down at her, and for the first time it feels like she is seeing the real him. “I look forward to working with you then."

Momo’s heart clenches. An unknown feeling rises in her chest. “As do I.”

The world fades away around them.

He stares at her for a moment longer, then straightens. “Go get a few items that you’ll need. We can come back for the rest later, once we’ve settled in.”

Momo shakes her head. “I don’t need anything. I can go now.”

Todoroki tilts his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Her smile widens, and she reaches up to touch the creation stone around her neck. “I have everything I need.”

His expression flickers down, and then a faint smile pulls at his lips. “I see.” He holds out his hand. His turquoise and gray eyes shine in the sunlight. “Let’s go then. Don’t let go of me.”

Momo slides her hand into his, her fingers slotting between his. Her heartbeat quickens. His palm is warm, and he holds her hand as tenderly as she had once only imagined in her most forbidden dreams.

In the distance, bells ring signaling noon.

Todoroki squeezes her hand once, and they step into the center of the circle.

The ruins carved into the dirt begin to glow a fluorescent blue.

Magic crackles around them and for the first time it feels like the future she chose for herself.

[kiatheinsomniac]

G O D S A U

Defluxit Cieux (Faded Heavens)

Realm of the tragic gods, their environments reflect their struggles which have overcome many parts of themselves.

Soul for Sale

Arno: God of the arts (also mourning and justice)

In life, she had been the greatest artist: her pieces were in galleries and noble’s homes all over the world for their photo-like realism. Everyone knew her name, knew at least ten of her works. Her art graced every gallery and inspired millions.

But this came at a price.

(Y/n) had sold her soul to the god of the arts in exchange for five years to become the greatest artist history would ever see. There had been a few rules: no cheating death when it came knocking and she could only dedicate herself to art and art alone — she had sold her soul to him so no one else could have her.

She had once painted canvases but, when she died, she had painted the floor under the crushing weight of a chandelier at a venue.

The artist had been confused, to begin with. She wondered and wondered until the world faded to black, worried that she had become lost.

But, she had found herself standing in a stream of wine among the dark mist of the world between the flesh and the world of the spirit. She followed that stream, staining her skin as her feet sloshed through it, until it led her to a grand door.

Upon crossing the threshold, labouring to push the heady door open, she was greeted by slow clapping.

“Here’s the great artist at last.” A man’s voice called out with a smile.

There, seated on a throne, was the god she had sold her soul to. He wore rich clothing in deep blues and the room seemed to have a midnight glow to it. Everything looked like it had been pulled from the Baroque period and (Y/n) adored it.

She hurried over to the throne and fell to her knees at the steps, bowing her head.

“Thank you.” She whispered, voice trembling in awe, “I’ve made my home among history books.”

“And were you satisfied?” He leaned forwards to capture her chin with his fingers, raising her eyes to meet his.

A series of memories flickered through her head like the flashes of cameras she had known so well in life. Canvas tearing, paint splattering, glasses being smashed, statues’ clay faces being smeared and smothered, soft pillows and wet cheeks, hours spent sitting down in the shower.

“I was.” She replied. The god smiled knowingly and released her chin, leaning back then looking down at her.

“You can’t lie to me, (Y/n). I’ve been watching you since we made that deal.”

“All the time?” Her eyes widened. He tossed his head around playfully as he thought.

“Most of the time.” He reached for a glass of red wine which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. “You’ll be taken away for the next hour or so before we begin.”

“Begin what?” She furrowed her brows.

“We had a deal. Deals are only made when there is a benefit for both parties, non?” A french accent slipped past his lips as he regarded her with a sense of melancholy almost.

“I let you slip past my fingers once and now you’ve come back to me, bound yourself to me. I won’t let you leave again. You’ll be satisfied this time, I promise.” He reached out to cup her face, thumb caressing her cheek affectionately.

Her eyes widened slightly as she was pulled to her feet. Statues of marble, cold as snow and soft as cotton, plucked her up by her arms and began carrying her away.

“What do you mean?” She blurted out, confused.

“Welcome home.” He simply smiled. Her dark brows furrowed over her steel blue eyes, even more confused than before.

—————

The Gods were less divine than they wished to seem. They were immortal, powerful, yes. But they were always victim to their own emotions. Fear that she would leave had devoured him, longing for her to return had tortured him and regret for ever letting her go in the first place had haunted him for nearly three decades.

But she was back now and he wouldn’t lose her again.

So, she sat at his feet. Black silk pooled around her, the dark colour a striking contrast against her pale skin. Sterling painted a thin layer around her ankles and wrists, the thinnest and strongest of chains connecting her to him, phasing through whatever object she may try to break them with.

A silver band, encrusted with glittering garnets decorated her ring finger.

In the flesh that came with new life, she had forgotten who she had been in spirit: the goddess of desire and fixation. She had been married to the god of the arts but, being the divinity of desire, nothing was ever enough. She had snuck away from him to lead a life among living mortals, leaving behind everything in search of more. But she hadn’t been able to change her nature of fixation: art. It was her passion.

In flesh as in spirit, she had been willing to do anything to harness the most beautiful art that the world had to give. To begin with, she had collected it. But it wasn’t enough. She began to create her own art, but it wasn’t good enough. She eventually began to pray to the god of the arts, hoping he would bless her with all the skill she needed to be the very best.

This is how he had found her again. For years, he had been grief stricken by the disappearance of his wife, mourning her and longing for her to return. She had left him as so many others had. However, in finding her, he had come up with a new idea: to trick her into binding herself to him so that she would never leave him again.

Everything had gone to plan and the only catch was the five years in which he had to wait for her. But she was here now. And she wouldn’t leave.

Her head fell against his knee and he reached down to stroke her hair affectionately. She hummed and turned her face to him. Her hair had grown a lot since she had died to be with him again: it now fell to her waist in loose curls and she realised that her new desire was him. Her chin became propped on his knee while she looked at him over the thick book on his lap.

The pages were battered and worn: as old as the first play, the first note of a song, the first sign of art.

“I’m tired.” She mumbled against his leg, feeling him smile, even without looking up. She could hear the pages of the book close before he leaned down to pull her onto his lap, her silk skirts pouring over the both of them like black gold.

She rested her head against his shoulder while her hand went up to gently caress the side of his face. He pushed her hair back behind her ear and smiled softly at her as she nuzzled her face against him.

“I want to start writing plays.” She hummed as he lifted her up bridal style and carried her out of the throne room.

“No you don’t.” He chuckled softly, allowing servants to open any doors that stood in his way while his wife leaned against his chest. He knew that if she started writing, she wouldn’t be able to stop and it would consume her. “Why don’t we get you some more paintings?”

She smiled contentedly at the idea of this, “I want ones with flowers and women in pretty satin dresses.” She mused as he sat her down on the bed and delicately slid the dark dress off her body, the midnight silk slipping over her creamy skin, leaving her in deep burgundy lace.

She sat there patiently, picturing what paintings she could add to her vast collection while Arno undressed himself.

(Y/n) was often mistaken for the goddess of art, leaving people to believe Arno was the god of theatre and music. But this misconception was created by art being the fixation goddess’s very fixation. She sat and pondered over how many people still believed it. She felt the mattress dip and turned over to cuddle up to her lover, feeling his large hands splay down her back soothingly, pressing her against his body.

She laid there, in the comfort of their romantically lit room, thinking. She was adorned in rich fabrics and fine jewels every day but she wanted more, needed more, desired more. Yet she also desired nothing more than him at once. It was a complex balance which she was yet to figure out.

“Arno?” She murmured against his chest. He tilted his head down to show that she had his attention. (Y/n) shifted slightly to prop her chin on his chest in order to meet those dark brown eyes. “Why did I leave? All I want is you but all I want is more? Why did I leave you behind?”

He let out a thoughtful sigh as his eyes closed in order to piece his mind together. They had already established that she could recall nothing of her previous life with him, just the life which she spent as a mortal.

“Because you’re difficult to please, chérie; and it’s not your fault. Your desires and fixations are at war — they go perfectly yet clash at the same time. I failed to give you my attention: I neglected you, failed to show my love to you, failed to even give you more than an hour of my time per week. With your desire gone, your fixation took over and you left to chase a life of art.”

He watched her (e/c) orbs fill with tears and her lower lip tremble. “I’m sorry that I left you for all those years. I didn’t know.”

He pushed her hair behind her ear, coaxing her to lay her head against his chest. His fingers glided down her arm to the silver cuffs that were melted onto her immortal skin — no latch nor key could open them.

“Don’t apologise. It’s ok now because I won’t repeat my mistake. And I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

—————

The story varies from here: some say that they continued to live happily, others say that he had put her in a trance so that she wouldn’t leave and some even say he killed her after that moment. Only the gods themselves know.

[psychosistr]

Friendly Four Concepts

Had a bit of a rough day a little while ago and, to make myself feel better, I started looking through the various designs that people have come up with for the Negaverse versions of Quackerjack, Megavolt, Liquidator, and Bushroot- AKA, the Friendly Four. My favorite versions are the ones by @thefriendlyfour, @kaguyamadoka, and @sandyferal - seriously go check them out, they’re all amazingly talented and creative people!

Unfortunately, I can’t draw like they can, but I like designing outfits and creating characters and writing, so I made some outfits and bios for my own versions of the Friendly Four that I’ll be writing stories for soon. Bios are below the cut, I hope you guys like them.

Megavolt

Appearance: Being inspired by superheroes in comic books, Megavolt decided he wanted to look like the classic hero that anyone could look up to. The lightning bolts and spark-stars on his outfit are reflective, so they catch the light when he uses his powers. The belt around his waist is actually a cable connected to the large battery in the middle that channels power up through a secret port on his back hidden by his cape (The pockets on the back actually hold his back-up batteries for when his main one needs to recharge). He also wears elbow-length gloves that are the same color as his cape with little metal lightning bolt emblems on the back, wrap-around safety glasses to both protect his eyes from the light he constantly puts off during his attacks as well as to serve as a mask, and blue boots that match the trim of his sleeves with metal plates along the bottoms and the toes. He doesn’t wear any hats or anything, but his powers still make his hair frizzy, so he keeps it cut fairly short so it’s more manageable.

History & Personality: Elmo Sputterspark was very intelligent and always loved inventing things, especially machines that would help the world solve energy and fuel cost-related problems. Similar to the regular universe, a bullying accident with one of his machines gave him amazing electricity-based powers. He spent the day testing out his powers to learn what he could do, when, late at night, he heard screaming coming from the area of the school their prom was being held in. He rushed over and found Negaduck there, terrorizing and attacking their classmates. Elmo fought back to protect them, making sure everyone got away safely. From that moment on, he decided that he wanted to be a hero and fight injustice- especially when it came to tyrants and bullies like Negaduck.

He’s very kind and selfless, often putting the comfort and safety of others far above his own, and enjoys talking about his hobbies and studies for long periods of time with people who are willing to listen. He’s also very cautious with how he uses his powers, both because he doesn’t want to risk draining himself too much and because he is always nervous about hurting someone irreparably (happened early in his hero career and scarred him mentally- does not EVER want to do that again). He does still have memory problems, but he tries to compartmentalize everything in his life into “must remember” “should remember” and “okay not to remember” so that he won’t lose the people and things that are most important to him- namely his three partners.

Inspiration: As a kid, I loved playing with plasma balls. I always thought they were a fun way to learn about electricity and loved the colors. So, I thought it’d be cool to give Megavolt an outfit with plasma-inspired colors and lightning bolt accents.

Quackerjack

Appearance: While his costume isn’t as puffy as his regular-world counterpart’s, he makes up for it by being even more colorful! Still following a sort of clown-theme, Quackerjack’s shoes and cowl are the same style, but the shoes are pink like his belt (almost making them look like ballet slippers but darker) with a big golden bell on the top of each shoe and his cowl is yellow on his right side and blue on his left (going opposite the colors of the fabric around his waist) and still has one large bell on the end of each side. The metal baseball bat he carries is his signature weapon (though that blue pouch on his belt also holds an impressive arsenal of toys and gadgets that seems almost bottomless sometimes and he hides things like jump ropes and larger weapons under the fabric around his hips), and is painted in a diamond tessellation of his outfit’s colors all the way around. The heart-shaped piece of metal on the bat’s hilt at first looks like a magnet meant to hold the red tail-ribbon in place, but, when pressed, it activates propulsion-rockets hidden within the bat that give him extra speed and force when swinging it. Also, Quackerjack enjoys sewing and added the toy-patches on the back of his shirt himself to cover up the holes in his costume from a fight, and gladly adds patches to his teammates’ outfits when they need a repair job done.

History & Personality: Jackson Bell, CEO and founder of Quackerjack Toys, was a well-respected businessman and beloved figure to many for years- he was a community activist, ran many notable charities, and even helped establish several orphanages and children’s hospitals using the proceeds from his company. Unfortunately, when Negaduck’s rule began, he was one of the prominent figureheads in the city that openly spoke out against him. To get him out of the way, Negaduck struck a deal with one the toy company’s biggest competitors and the two managed to frame the CEO for a crime he didn’t commit, locking him away for years and dissolving his company. Jack went a bit crazy in prison, constantly trying to find the brighter side of things, even when one wasn’t really there. At one point he entered a prison-penpal program and met a girl he became very close to- they even started living together when Jack was released from prison. His then-girlfriend helped Jack get his life back in order and helped him find his confidence and sanity again, inspiring him to go out and help others like she helped him. Unfortunately, some rather dark facts about his girlfriend came to light and the two broke up, but Jack still holds out hope that one day they can work things out and she can find a way to be a part of his life again alongside his three new partners.

There are two sides to the toy-loving ex-businessman. When he wears his cowl and hero outfit, Quackerjack is a bright and bubbly individual that loves making puns and laughing about all sorts of things. Outside of the costume, though, Jack is a surprisingly mellow guy with an almost monotone speech pattern- he’ll still crack jokes, but they’ll be said with more sarcasm and dead-pan humor that’ll often make people do a double-take to make sure they heard him right. Despite the glaring differences in his personality, at his core Quackerjack is a very compassionate person that wants to help anyone that seems frightened, lonely, sad, or lost (in any sense of the word). He’s very open and vocal about his feelings, often wearing his heart on his sleeve to varying degrees depending on what state of mind he’s in at the moment.

Inspiration: I went to an art school from 6th-12th grade where I was a theater and musical theater major. During that time, I studied Commedia dell'arte, an early form of Italian theater, and learned about the Harlequin clown character. I decided to base Quackerjack’s outfit off of the classical theater clown’s bright color scheme and more stream-lined clothing style.

Bushroot

Appearance: Similar to how his regular-world counterpart fused with a plant, Dr.Reginald Bushroot in this world infused himself with a  Solanum carolinense. The viney nature of the plant gave him a slightly different appearance with thorn-covered vine-arms, three slightly-pointed oblong leaves for each hand (two longer ones and one shorter one to act as a thumb), an upper body covered in fine hairs that make his green torso a bit fuzzier, legs made of woven vine-roots that he can disassemble and reassemble at will to help him climb objects, and a purple flower on his head like the plant he fused with (one large petal curls downward and covers half of his face like a long set of bangs, the back two petals stick up parallel to the top of his head, and the middle two are halfway between the two levels of elevation, along with a few smaller yellow petals that stick straight up to cover the top of his head in the middle of the larger petals). The jacket he wears was actually a gift hand-sewn by Quackerjack- the sleeves have extra-thick padding so Bushroot doesn’t accidentally stab anyone with his arms and the flower-patch sewn into the back was meant to be a parody of the flower on his head. Bushroot won’t say it out loud, but he really loves that jacket and refuses to take it off unless absolutely necessary, so he often wears it completely unbuttoned to stay cool unless he’s trying to blend in with a crowd.

History & Personality: Dr.Reginald Bushroot was a brilliant botanist at the local university, always striving to make the next big discovery that would improve the lives of those around him. Living in a town run by Negaduck, however, made conducting his research even harder legally, and he was forced to quit his job at the institute to avoid getting his coworkers fired as well. With nothing else to lose, Bushroot experimented on himself in a fit of self-destructive behavior and ended up as a plant-duck mutant. He excitedly showed the results of his research to his former coworkers, only for them to sell him out to Negaduck to save their own jobs (and lives). Barely escaping Negaduck’s clutches, Bushroot grew bitter towards humanity and decided to live away from everyone in the solitary safe-haven of his greenhouse on the outskirts of town where he could be hidden away in the woods.

At first glance, Bushroot seems like a cynical nihilist that hates being around people in any capacity. After opening up to Quackerjack and Megavolt, though, it turns out that he’s really just lonely and tired of being emotionally trampled on by society just for trying to be a good person. With their encouragement, he decides to try helping humanity again as part of their team, though he still maintains that he doesn’t really care what happens to the world. He’s actually a pretty big tsundere and has trouble admitting that he likes (or loves) anyone/anything in his life, but his actions always speak louder than his words and he shows he cares for his partners in little ways like making flowers grow around their rooms and bugging them to take care of themselves when they’re working too hard.

Influence: I actually live in the Carolina’s, where solanum carolinense (otherwise known as Carolina Horsenettle) grows and thought it would be a cool plant for Bushroot to fuse with. Those weeds are nightmares to deal with: The thorns hurt like heck to grab, even with gloves, but you NEED the gloves because the toxins in the thorns make the wounds hurt worse and can even get them infected if you’re not careful. They’re also very tough to pull out because of their strong roots and, worst of all, they grow fruit that looks JUST LIKE tomatoes. That last part may not sound so bad, but, down here, wild tomatoes can occasionally sprout up and kids and pets love them as snacks, and Carolina Horesenettles are actually members of the DEADLY NIGHTSHADE family, so their fruit can be LETHAL. It’s a pretty but deadly plant and really quite fascinating to study.

Liquidator

Appearance: Bud Flood in the negaverse is quite a bit shyer than his regular-world version, so he actually changes the water around his body to look like he’s wearing clothes to feel more confidant. The outfit is similar to what he wore before his mutation, except back then it was black and white with a long-sleeved white shirt beneath the button-up vest and he had shoes instead of a big puddle at the ends of his legs. He can change the hue of his “clothes” by messing with their chemical composition (like how he can turn water hard or move pollutants around in it). The metal accents such as his buttons and belt buckle are actually small bits of ice that he allows to float in place along his body, but he can quickly melt and dissolve them at a moments notice when his body needs to change and reform them instantly when his body returns to its normal state. Also, the bow around his neck is actually a ruffled cravat tied into a bow and the water ripples along it to make little waves at the ends of the bow’s ties.

History & Personality: Along with Jackson Bell, Buddy Flood was one of the other influential figureheads that opposed Negaduck, though he was far less vocal about it. Still, Buddy cared about peoples’ health and well-being and used proceeds from his company to open non-profit free clinics and hospitals as well as soup kitchens for the poor so people could always have access to fresh water and food when they needed it because, sadly, most of the town’s water sources had become polluted, meaning that many people had trouble finding sustenance that wasn’t pre-packaged/bottled. Negaduck grew irritated at Buddy’s continued meddling in his plans to ruin the city so, to get him out of the way, he called in a fake warning that someone was going to poison his company’s water supply. Buddy went with a few guards and officers to investigate, but, when they saw who it was poisoning the water, they all ran away and left Buddy alone. Negaduck caught him and threw him into the contaminated water in hopes of killing him- he even tied weights to his legs to make sure he’d sink. While he didn’t die and instead became a water-based mutant, the incident left Buddy quite scared to face people directly for a while.

Although he is extremely shy and anxious when dealing with other people, Liquidator swallows down his nerves for the sake of helping others in need. As a sort of coping mechanism, Liquidator goes into “salesman mode” when talking to people he doesn’t know or just when he feels nervous in general- by pretending everything he says is for the sake of pitching a sale to someone, Liquidator feels less nervous and is able to get through a sentence without the stuttering that would normally accompany his words. In a way, his manner of speaking serves as a great indicator for how he feels about other people: If he can talk to you like a normal person then he feels comfortable around you, but if he can talk to you like that AND not stutter at all then you’re probably one of his three partners and he loves you with all his heart.

Influence: I honestly just liked the idea of having Liquidator create his own clothes out of water since he seems to know so much about changing its properties and chemical make-up. I feel like in this world, the flow of his water would go upwards from the base of water at his feet rather than the other way around, which is why his pants are darker than his vest- giving him a reverse waterfall effect.

[larryfanfiction]

Harry Potter AU

🔮 Firebird by sweetlouist91 @spookylouist91 (8k)

Half the time Harry wanted to strangle his soulmate and the other half, well, no, the other half he wanted to outright murder them.

- the hp/soulmate au where your soulmate can control your patronus. Featuring pranks, frustration, friendship, and a whole lotta magic.

🔮 Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by Toomanytears @toomanylarrytears (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they’re forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

🔮 The Oldest Magic Word by FullOnLarrie @fullonlarrie  (18k)

Louis gets called up to play Seeker for the English National Team and when he gets there, he finds out that Harry Styles, his old school crush, is the Team Healer.

🔮 a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) by MediaWhore @mediawhorefics  (5k)

“He was flirting with you by the way,” Niall says casually once he’s finished saying goodbye to Louis and he’s joined Harry outside.

“No he wasn’t,” Harry replies automatically, feeling his heart clench at the thought. Was he?

Niall simply raises a mocking eyebrow in response before wrapping his scarf twice around his neck.

“Not that it matters!” Harry says quickly, eyes widening. “I wouldn’t care even if he did because he’s awful and the worst.”

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.

🔮 With You In Your Dreams by lululawrence @lululawrence (5k)

“And how are you boys doing?” Professor Trelawney asked as she came to their table. Her wide eyes blinked at the two of them before peeking into the cup. “Ooh, a heart! How interesting…”

Harry’s eyes widened and he looked at Louis. Louis was just looking into the cup in interest. “Should I note that as well, then?”

“Absolutely, Tomlinson. What others do you have?” Trelawney looked at his scroll and she let out an overdramatic gasp. “Oh my my. It looks like someone definitely has love in their future! Those signs all stand for love, marriage, stability, togetherness, and when combined like this predominantly new love! Very interesting reading you’ve done there, Mr. Styles.”

She gave a wink at Harry and then whisked herself off to the next table.

Or the one where Professor Trelawney plays a very unlikely matchmaker.

🔮 Home For The Holly Days by LadyLondonderry @londonfoginacup (2k)

There he is, bowl of batter in one arm and whisk in the other. The wireless is blaring something that distinctly sounds likeFairytale of New York, which would make sense with how much Harry loves muggle music.

But. The thing is, is he's doing some terribly odd moves, swaying his hips slightly out of pace with the music but with so much more passion than Louis thinks he's ever seen anybody display about this song. His apron, down to his knees, is swishing back and forth as he moves and - dear lord - his shorts don't even reach as low as the hem of his apron.

Louis has to get out of here.

Or, Louis’s participating in the Secret Santa exchange between all the Hogwarts professors stuck at school over the winter holidays, and the Sorting Hat may fancy itself a bit of a matchmaker.

🔮 You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry  (175k)

A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

🔮 your certain charms by deLILAh @tequilila (20k)

harry potter au. louis is the reserve-reserve seeker, harry is the quibbler’s brightest new voice, and the quidditch world cup is as good a place to stargaze as any.

🔮 What Good Are The Stars Above by ultravioletInk (loquaciousEscapist) (68k) 

A gratuitous alternate universe where Harry is more interested in the Slytherins than a Gryffindor Muggleborn has any right to be, Louis has settled into his preordained role, and Liam just really wants to get his friends through their final year of Hogwarts without accruing any casualties.

🔮 You Can Read Me Anything by lululawrence @lululawrence (7k)

“So wait, why are you upset over having five classes so far with Louis?”

Harry heaved a dramatic sigh. “Because! It’s so exhausting trying to pretend to be somewhat cool all the time, Li!”

Liam stared at Harry, obviously unamused. “For Merlin’s sake,” he muttered before standing from the table. “I don’t have time to deal with this.”

Or...the one where Harry has pined over Louis from afar, but his sixth year at Hogwarts is when it all changes.

🔮 Magical Soup by gloria_andrews @gloriaandrews (28k)

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown. Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea. As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

🔮 Follow Me Down This Time by supernope (27k)

Harry first noticed Louis in his second term at Hogwarts, and despite three years of inventing ways to stumble across Louis, he's never managed to actually work up the courage to speak to him. Also known as, self-indulgent Hogwarts AU, because every fandom needs Hogwarts AUs.

🔮 Don’t Let Me Drown, Don’t Breathe Alone by supernope (31k) (Sequel to Follow Me Down This Time.)

Harry tries not to think about how he and Louis only have two nights left together in the castle. Instead, he focuses on Louis’ hand on his thigh, the warm press of Louis’ shoulder against his own, and the pumpkin risotto he’s just piled onto his plate. He’s going to live in the moment, he tells himself firmly. Live in the moment. Right.

🔮 Frog Prince by wouldneverseethesun (4k)

Hogwarts AU: Harry is pining and Louis‘ patronus is a frog.

🔮 Been here all along by Cherrie (28k)

Harry is 11 year old wizard who was brought up in muggle home and now is on his way to his new school. Everything is new and exciting, and nothing can hold his attention for more than two seconds at the time, expect for this one boy with blue eyes, silver tongue and green tie around his neck. He can hold Harry's attention for two seconds, or you know... forever.

🔮 Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic by perfectdagger (sincerelyste), star_k  @perfectdagger  (92k) 

There were only a few things Louis didn’t believe in. You could include in that list the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, and also Father Christmas. Having four little sisters, though, he had to pretend that all of them were real for the sake of keeping their imagination alive.

Surprisingly, there was one thing, that not until his oldest little sister turned 11 did Louis believe in and did he think would actually be real: magic.

Louis’ sister was a witch and everything he knew would never be the same again.

🔮 Were We Ever This Young? by letsjustsee  @letsjustsee (17k)

“How did it go?” he asked, still not having gotten any hints from Louis’ face. “Obviously it went amazing, Harold,” Louis said, reaching for Harry’s hand, “Was there any doubt I would smash it?” Immediately after finishing his sentence a young girl burst out of the classroom behind Louis, pushing through her peers, sobbing her eyes out. Harry and Louis both took her in, watching as she rushed through the crowd and disappeared behind the many bodies. Harry looked at Louis in confusion, about to voice his concerns before Louis cut him off. “Teenagers, am I right?” Louis said casually, “So bloody sensitive. You hungry? Let’s go.” And with that, he pulled Harry through the groups of students by his hand, Harry too shocked to utter a word.

Hogwarts AU in which Harry and Louis both return to give talks to seventh years about the 'real world' with slightly varying results. Inspired by the Chilton scene between Rory and Paris in the new Gilmore Girls.

🔮 The Art of Reading Tea Leaves by evelynegrey, fortunefavorsthebrave  @evelynegrey (28k)

"If he were such a good person, he'd be in here," he smiles jokingly. "You know that house elitist stuff doesn't make sense, right?" It's a comfortably old debate, one they both know the outcome of, and Harry takes it gratefully. "Harry Potter was Gryffindor, is all I'm saying," Niall argues easily and Harry opens up his books again. "And Voldemort was Slytherin," he fills in with a smile. "But Romeo was a Montague, you know. A rose by any other name and all that." "What?" "Never mind."

Hogwarts AU where Harry decides to take Divination without his friends, Niall wants to get laid, Liam and Zayn are the dream team in Potions and Louis has a secret. He also happens to be a Slytherin.

🔮 We found love (right where we are) by dea_liberty (6k)

Harry Styles hadn’t meant to come back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a celebrity. Except, somehow – by accident - he sort of had. Now he can't go anywhere without someone (or a lot of someones) screaming hysterically and or trying to charm him into falling in love with them. To make matters worse, he couldn't even eat anything he found just anywhere because it might be laced with a love potion. The absolute kicker though was the fact that the one person he'd been trying to impress when he'd apparently impressed the whole bloody world was probably the only person whose attention he hadn't managed to catch.

🔮 Reckless Serenade by boyfrombradford (10k)

A Hogwarts AU where Harry and Louis hate each other, but then an acromantula makes them not. Also, there are lots of awkward moments involving erection éclairs and Drarry erotica.

🔮 A Little Bit Blue and Yellow (A Little Bit Eye of Newt) by andresurrected (30k)

The boys attend Hogwarts. Liam is the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, Harry is a beater. Louis and Zayn are Slytherins. Niall is a Hufflepuff. There is a misunderstanding, and there are shenanigans in the Room of Requirement. Also, a lot of Quidditch matches.

Liam says, “Don’t repeat that. I’m not meant to have favourites.” Harry claps him on the back, grasping his shoulder and bringing him in for a hug. “Noted for blackmail,” Louis assures him, nodding once. Liam smiles at him like he doesn't believe him.

🔮L'Été en Azur by FannyT, RedOrchid (26k)

In which Hogwarts students Louis, Liam and Niall go on a summer exchange to Beauxbatons.

🔮 Beneath the Sheets of Paper by missberrycake (55k)

In which Harry Styles is about to start his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. While his best friends Liam, Niall and Zayn battle with the trials and tribulations of another school year, it’s all Harry can do not to fall head over heels for Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson. Harry soon comes to realise that discovering Louis was a far greater piece of magic than anything Hogwarts could teach him. Magic, though, is not always what it seems …

🔮 Potions and Presents and a Partridge in a Pear Tree by b0yfriendsinl0ve (7k)

Harry has a bit of a crush, it's Christmas and there's chocolate.

🔮 Like Master, Like Pet by orphan_account (10k)

In which Louis's cat apparently wants to date Harry's frog, intense studying of eyebrows is a thing, pillows can turn into flamingos, and a lot of really lame-ass jokes are made.

🔮 put your hands on me (I'm worth it) by troubleinateacup (18k)

A professional Quidditch player AU where Louis won’t be caught dead wearing green, Harry has an iPhone 6 and no knowledge of the most important game on earth, Liam is Louis’ long-suffering personal trainer/best friend, and Niall hangs out with models.

🔮 hey angel by vanillabeanniall  @vanillabeanniall (6k)

When Louis had first arrived at Hogwarts, he was more of a spectacle than he was now; Harry remembered when he first saw him at the sorting, just as entranced by his beauty as most everyone else. They'd all gone quiet when they saw Louis and his veela genetics, but because he was only one-eighth veela and also because of the natural progression of time, everyone’s infatuation had eventually worn off. Well, for the most part, anyway.

It had faded a bit with Harry, but the veela effect had never really gone away, and he knew Louis noticed that, though he never voiced his curiosity towards the subject.

🔮 i'll be yours to keep by midnights  @harryindallas (17k)

louis should've thought a lot more about who he said his fake boyfriend is, especially since he and his "significant other" kinda hate each other. most of the time.

🔮 Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic by larrycaring @mystupidamours  (38k) 

Call him hopelessly romantic, but Harry is convinced Louis is the one for him. He didn't really believe in love at first sight. Until that special person came along and stole his heart. And really, as soon as he first met Louis in the train, Harry had felt something. Their love at first sight started when they met, and never ended since they found each other, heart to heart. He knew it when he felt this fluttering feeling from deep down inside, when Louis smiled at him. It was like gravity moved, and nothing mattered more than him.

or even in a magical world, Louis and Harry's love is the most magical and beautiful thing in the world, Zayn is the smart Ravenclaw who falls for his best friend, Liam's true feelings are revealed and Niall is Niall.

or just another Hogwarts AU I had to write.

🔮 The best smell in the world is that man that you love by larrycaring @mystupidamours  (10k) 

"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things that they find most attractive, even if the person doesn't acknowledge or is unaware of their fondness for the object of their affection themselves."

(...)

Louis looks down at his own container inspecting it suspiciously, as if the liquid could turn into a creature and absorb him. He bends his head down a bit, and Louis' nostrils are filled with the most comforting scents he has ever inhaled. Somehow, it reminds him of home, something rich and warm, something he strangely feels familiar with, but he can't quite place it. He also has the feeling he smells burnished copper.

He inhales more deeply and then he can smell apple and cinnamon, and he really does not understand. He moves back and frowns. If it was up to Louis, he would not mind inhaling the odour forever.

🔮 fake it 'til you make it by tempolarriefics (13k)

“So.” Louis clears his throat, trying to prompt the curly haired boy into speaking.

“You want me to what?” The boy asks incredulously, speaking slowly in a way that emphasizes the absurdity of what Louis has just asked.

Louis clears his throat, hoping he doesn’t look as completely mortified as he feels. He shrugs nonchalantly before squeaking out, “To go to the Yule ball with me, to make my ex-boyfriend jealous?”

or, the one where Harry and Louis are seventh years at Hogwarts and while trying to make Liam jealous, fall in love along the way.

🔮 An Underrated Type of Trouble by anchortied  @anchortied (22k)

When Harry walked through the doors of the Great Hall his mind didn't immediately register what he was seeing. A chorus of giggles started throughout the hall. A few coughs and the sounds of muffled, embarrassed laughter. Some shocked gasps, but not many. Harry, who had been readjusting the badge on his chest, glanced up. When his brain finally caught up to him, a horrified look settled onto his face. Everyone was doing their best to remain still in fear of alerting the ghosts. The Hogwarts ghosts. The ones who, currently, had an array of different, multicolored and silly hats on their transparent heads. Harry was dumbfounded. All he could do was stare, his hands hovering above the badge he, moments before, had been trying to straighten. His mouth formed a big, round ‘O’ and all of the blood went rushing to his face. How had he done this? Harry thought, for there was no doubt in his mind that this was the work of Louis Tomlinson _ Or, Harry is the Head Boy, Louis is a troublemaker and they both like each other too much to get in each other's way.

🔮 Crying lightning by frenchkiss (42k)

Louis doesn't remember the accident, and when he wakes up he finds that he doesn't remember any of the last ten years of his life either. All he knows is there's some curly-haired bloke by his bed claiming to be the husband he shares a house, a dog, and a life with, two siblings he's never met before waiting for him in the waiting room, and more niggling questions at the back of his head than anyone can physically answer.

This really isn't how he planned to spend his Wednesday.

🔮 if you'll be my star, i'll be your sky by g_uttertrash (62k)

Louis smiles in the smuggest, most infuriating way, like he knows every thought filtering through Harry’s mind. He probably does.

“I thought you were a student, yeah,” Louis says, voice quieter now, leaving Harry to lean over the baluster somewhat to hear. “But I hoped you weren't.”

(or, Harry Potter AU where Harry takes a teaching post at Hogwarts and gets a little more than he expected when he meets the fit Transfiguration professor, Louis, who looks oddly familiar... Featuring Messrs. Horan, Malik, and Payne as well, along with some familiar faces from the HPverse)

🔮 Bronze and Gold by yoshi09 (7k)

“And we’re back, Hogwarts! Another amazing day at the Potter Pitch, with clear skies and a brisk forty-one kilometer wind speed making for some fantastic plays today-- it’s cold up here in the stands but it’s a good thing I’ve bought myself an official Quidditch jumper, available outside the pitch for only nine galleons, six sickles and one knut-- we’ve got Ravenclaw leading Gryffindor thirty to ten, but after that classic Wronski Feint led by Gryffindor’s Lacey Kim, Ravenclaw is down a seeker for at least ten minutes while Devine gets medical attention giving Ravenclaw beaters more work to distract Kim’s efforts-- it looks like we’re about to start again. Brooms are up, they’re off-- the quaffle is immediately snatched up by Tomlinson, Merlin look at that form-- only appreciating, Headmistress, that’s my best mate out there--”

* * * * *

Slice of Hogwarts life fic just in time for Halloween. Everyone knows 7th year Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Louis Tomlinson and 5th year Ravenclaw prefect Harry Styles are dating-- except for Harry. Fluffiest fluff to ever fluff.

🔮 Sweeter Than Wine by letsjustsee (15k) @letsjustsee

Walking up, the bass still pounding loudly in his ears, he furrowed his brow in confusion as he noticed one lone figure still sitting at the bar. Almost every other person in the club had fled to the dance floor, but here was someone that obviously hadn’t been caught up in Louis’ spell. Confused, Louis thought perhaps this muggle was just so determined to get drunk that his spell couldn’t penetrate. “You must really need a drink tonight, mate,” Louis said, his tone biting as he slid up next to the stranger and clapped him solidly on the back. The sarcastic tone he displayed a second before must not have flustered the man, because he smiled widely, his cheek dimpling endearingly. “I do, actually,” he said, gesturing to the stool next to him. “Why don’t you join me for one?”

When Wizard!Louis goes to a muggle club for a change of pace, his one night stand ends up being much more than he bargained for.

🔮 Keep me where the light is by frenchkiss (198k)

A post-Hogwarts era AU featuring a wedding, a fake relationship, lots of sex, a cat named Hermione, a string of terrifying murders, and two young Aurors who are about to embark on a case that will change their lives (and the lives of the ones they love) forever.

🔮 Can’t Hide It, You Might As Well Embrace It by supernope (67k)

Together since they were teenagers, Harry and Louis are professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They may also secretly be married.

🔮 Hypnotize Me Then Rewrite Me (Anything But Fight This) by Newbornpony (24k)

It's probably not what his counselor expected Harry to do with his advice when he sat him down and rambled, "Do what you love, what you're good at. Don't get sucked into a 9 to 5 job you hate and end up drinking yourself to an early death with just you, your cat and Corrie reruns."

In which Harry is a successful gay porn star who falls in love with Louis Tomlinson, arguably the most famous porn star in the industry, other than Harry of course. The only problem is that Louis' straight. Like sleeps with women for a living straight. Harry hates his life.

🔮 I See London, I See France by incandescentlight (5k)

Harry Potter AU. Louis is working at the coffee shop when the most gorgeous boy walks in. Harry is an eighth year Beauxbatons student and Louis is determined not to fall in love because Harry returns to France in four months.

🔮 where we go, nobody knows by hazmesentir (95k)

"Do you ever think," Niall said, quite calmly, as they stood among the hoard of students staring at the quite frankly grossly disturbing writing on the wall, "that so much more stuff goes on in this castle than we're ever told about?"

Hogwarts AU where Harry's just trying to be something more than 'that other Harry', and if his best friend could realise he was in love with him it'd be really grand; Louis has normal Slytherin problems like having to hide his friend's illicit pet lizard, though maybe it's all OK if Harry's paying attention to him; and somehow they always end up missing all the drama.

More Masterposts

[lycorogue]

Who Wants to Meet My OCs? (Part 2 - Gyateara)

First and foremost, I meant to have this whole series to be sort of churned out the same day/week as Part 1. Life.... didn’t let that happen. I then figured “okay, I’ll update the series every Sunday” and then yesterday came and went...

Regardless, from the NEXT POST onward, I’m aiming to update every Sunday. Now, back to the series itself.

Ever since at least November, I’ve wanted to do individual posts for each of my OCs so you could meet them all. Well, I’m finally getting off my butt and working on this massive project (we’ll ignore that I’m spending hours working on this instead of my ML fanfic.... >_>).

In Part 1, I gave a broad overview of this whole Meet My OCs series, as well as gave some generic IRL background to the two main worlds my OCs hail from:

1) Gyateara

2) Glitches

Well, in this part of the series, I’m going to stay IRL as I explain where each individual OC within the Gyateara universe came from. If this is interesting to you, feel free to check below the break.

If you’d rather just skip ahead to the character bios themselves, my first one about my Glitches character Willow should be up in two weeks (sorry for the wait).

If I’m talking about Gyateara characters, I should probably talk about the one that first birthed the world: 

Amara Yori

Amara was my first-ever D&D character. I had known of the game for ages since my father used to play it frequently (and apparently roped my mother into at least running the monsters so she’d be included; ignoring that she’d rather not be included XD). 

I really got interested in D&D when I was a teen and saw the gorgeously stylized covers for AD&D ver 3.5. My father had passed away before officially introducing me to the game (although we did used to play Dungeon all the time, so that was a start...), and none of my friends were going to touch that “nerd culture” with a 10ft pole, so I simply admired the books, but never actually played. Then I went to college and managed to Nerd Out.

Hubby (then boyfriend) offered to help me build my first-ever character, but in 2004 the D&D 3.5 expansions were so massive I had far too many choices to choose from.

So Hubby had me go through some of his extra minis, and let me pick out one that I really liked. With his help, I ended up with the 2003 version of the Wood Elf Skirmisher.

Based solely on this mini, I started building Amara.

Hubby suggested that I try out the Scout class for my first one, since I couldn’t choose between a Rogue, Ranger, or Druid, and Scout is sort of in between at least the Rogue and Ranger classes. For whatever reason - I can’t remember it now - I also decided I wanted to play a half-elf.

Upon reading the generic backstory description the D&D books had for the Scout class, I figured my character needed some sort of Tragic BackstoryTM that would explain her scouting skills. Things like trap finding and dismantling, masterful rope use skills, hiding and tracking skills, and connection to animals.

I was in a big The Vision of Escaflowne kick at the time - which shows up in a couple other characters’ backstories - and was fascinated with the history between Van Fanel’s parents. Van’s human father Goau stumbled upon Varie, a Draconian woman, in the woods one day. Draconians have the ability to manifest feathered wings which allow them flight. It was rare to see a Draconian, and her beauty - with her wings shimmering in the moonlight as she waded in a small pool of water - mesmerized Goau. He instantly fell in love and brought Varie home to be his wife. The duo seemed to love each other deeply. Amara’s parents, on the other hand....

I’ll get into more when I break down their actual bios, but I took the idea of “Human stumbles upon exotic non-human in the woods and instantly marries her” and twisted it slightly. Amara’s mother was very much emotionally, and possibly even physically (I haven’t confirmed this yet), abused by Amara’s father. Amara, being a half-elf, also had to deal with abuse at the hands of many of her fellow clansmen - both the human and the elven clans; pretty much exclusively because she was a “half-breed” (Yes, I was really into InuYasha then too).

As I kept building Amara, I kept adding more and more tragedy to her backstory. I do enjoy what I created, but, especially after reading a lot of posts here on Tumblr, I’m afraid her history is nothing but a giant knotted ball of cliches and tropes. For now, though, I’m running with it. Perhaps I can figure out work-arounds later....

I never did get to play more than a session or two with Amara before the game disbanded (which seems to be a repeat thing with my gaming group), but she still lives on in my mind, and eventually in Gyateara.

Natalie

As I mentioned above, The Vision of Escaflowne very much inspired me while I was working on the earliest bits of Gyateara. Therefore, Natalie is your basic Isekai protagonist.

For those who don’t know the term (I didn’t know an official genre term existed until about a year ago), Isekai refers to a subgenre of fantasy/speculative fiction where the main character is abruptly teleported from their world to a new one; usually one with a fantasy setting.

It’s a massive subgenre and includes most of the fantasy animes I’ve watched:

InuYasha

The Vision of Escaflowne

Fushigi Yuugi

The Devil is a Part-Timer

The Rise of the Shield-hero

The Saga of Tanya the Evil

The Familiar of Zero

How to NOT Summon a Demon Lord

Sword Art Online (technically)

.Hack//Sign (technically)

Digimon (first season, specifically)

Psyren (manga)

The list can go on, but that’s not the point of this post. Getting back to the actual point, I clearly enjoyed this genre without even realizing there was a term for it, and created my own Isekai story. Natalie is from our world, but is abruptly teleported to Gyateara’s main Northern Isle, where she must save the country from being destroyed by a power-hungry, put painfully charismatic, villain.

I had taken elements from Kagome (InuYasha), Hitomi (The Vision of Escaflowne), Miaka (Fushigi Yuugi), and I think I had Ariel (The Little Mermaid) in there as well at one point. She was - and still kind of is - just “Generic Isekai Female Protagonist”, which is one of the main reasons the story she was in failed so soon into NaNoWriMo back in... 2014, I think. Almost a solid decade after I started dreaming up her Isekai story. She definitely needs to go back to the drawing board a bit to be properly fleshed out.

Connor

He was from the same story as Natalie. Connor was a denizen of Gyateara’s Northern Isles, and became Natalie’s traveling companion as he helped her try to find a way home. Ya know, that old Isekai chestnut. I even leaned heavily into the cliche and had the two of them fall in love throughout their journey. Which would lead to a third-act twist of “Okay, we can defeat the villain, but then what? Could they stay together? Would Natalie stay on Gyateara? Will Connor instead try to go home to Earth with her?” Real original. I know. Add in that Connor was a sort of Frankenstein’s monster of a character. Grab a snack, this is going to take a minute...

Connor’s traits included:

The basic backstory and drive of the player character in the video game Fable, in which his father was killed, his mother and sister tortured (and presumed dead, only to be proven still alive and captured), his home village burnt down, and he was taken in by the local guild so the guild master could train Connor to become the hero the GM believed Connor was prophesied to be.

The half-demon traits of InuYasha (InuYasha), which transformed him into a sort of were-cat. His mother, a full-demon, could become a 15ft (4.57m) tall panther with split tails. Connor’s half-demon heritage was hidden from him, and he only transformed under extreme moments of stress.

Yes. The “love interest is the only one who can snap the protag back from a monstrous rage” trope was heavily evident throughout the story.

His overall look was inspired by Link (Legend of Zelda video game franchise). His basic fighting style - swordsmanship and expert archery - was a sort of tag-teamed “thieving” from Link as well as Van (The Vision of Escaflowne).

A highly resistant, and begrudging submission to become the Hero of Prophecy lifted off of Tamahome (Fushigi Yuugi).

I know he was much more influenced by Van from Escaflowne when I was first making him. I even used Van as a reference guide when I tried to create character head shots of him. I just can’t recall now what else I swiped from that character.

I feel like there are also other male anime/video game protags I swiped traits from, but I can’t recall them anymore. Regardless, I threw them in a blender, and poured out the mixture that became Connor.

Jolene Crisslebalm

Ah, the character whose last name I always have to look up, because I can’t recall how I spelled it. Good starting point, right?

I am a very reserved person. In particular, a very sexually reserved person. But I do enjoy sex, and I love the act of flirting, and the “thrill of the chase” when it comes to dating, so a part of me always wonders what I would be like if I had let go of my reservations and just enjoyed the carnal pleasures of life.

So, two characters in particular - Willow (from Glitches) and Jolene - are my exploration of that Path Not Traveled. 

A friend of mine was hosting a D&D campaign via Roll20.net, and wondered if I wanted in. I hadn’t been involved in a D&D game in a year or so at that point, and I’ve enjoyed playing a couple of one-offs with him DMing, so I leapt at the chance to join. I had almost always played a form of Rogue class (hence the internet persona) in previous D&D campaigns, so I decided to stay the course, but with a twist I hadn’t tried before.

I wanted Jolene to be a sort of reluctant adventurer, preferring instead to be a cat burgler, but I also wanted that sexual/sensual exploration of character. So, she was a traveling prostitute (not exactly legal without proper ties to a brothel; much like a Sex Trade Guild sort of thing), but she also used her “alone time with clients” to scope out the place to see if it’s worth robbing.

Fast forward about 3 years, and I end up watching the first episode of the Freeform Marvel series Cloak and Dagger... where I saw Tandy doing the same thing, but roofying her targets instead of sleeping with them first... Great minds, and all that?

Eh, Jolene figures “might as well make money off of them before coming back and robbing the rest... less to carry later...”

In the end, while Jolene had an.... interesting run... and one I actually did enjoy role playing, even if it did leave me a bit frustrated afterwards (a good frustrated?)... Jolene just didn’t fit the world the DM created, nor did she fit in quite as well as I would have hoped with the other players.

They were all AMAZING players, by the way. Some of the best role players I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and such fantastic writers as well. BTW, we wrote out everything in the Roll20 chat log instead of verbally playing or using video-chat. I must admit, I was quite envious of their skills. It was just a tighter knit group, and I wasn’t able to feel out their play-style well enough to continue with the group. Eventually they all had to go their separate ways anyway when their schedules no longer lined up.

Still, I LOVED Jolene, and she was the D&D character I had the joy of running the longest, so she NEEDED to live on. She did, in my first NaNoWriMo “win”. I managed to hit those 50,000 words, but I still had about 3/5ths of her story to write. 

See, while coming up with Jolene’s jaded attitude towards love and her pull towards a more hedonistic lifestyle, I went with the good old cliche of Heartbreak Was The Culprit. (With so many cliches in my character builds, is it a wonder why I just stick with fanfiction... the characters are already created...)

Jolene had her heart broken five times between the ages of 13 and 21. She was the type who fell quick into love, and fell HARD into it, and always felt intensely betrayed by her lovers when they left her. To be fair... they did routinely leave her for a woman of better social standing, or - in her youth - someone more willing to put out, or just straight up abandon her without so much as a farewell note. Eventually, she gave up on trying to find love, and joined a brothel, and then the thieves guild, and then headed out on her own from there.

The DM thought it unlikely that she was a prostitute for the better part of 5 years without a single pregnancy, so he rolled for it, and Jolene had one miscarriage, one still born, and one healthy child she gave up for adoption. I was not expecting to include that in her backstory, but it actually worked fairly well.

And all of that was the subject of my NaNo project: Lost Loves and Paramours. Jolene’s full biography leading up to the campaign: every man she fell in love with, every person she slept with, the one client who tried to murder her to avoid a scandal of his lust getting the better of him, the pain of her miscarry, the devastation of her stillborn, the heart break of giving up her surviving child, the struggles against a stalker, and her over-all YOLO attitude.

(Bitmoji is a beautiful thing...)

Well, second long post of this series is now complete. Next week, I’ll talk about the IRL inspiration for my Glitches characters. Thank you so much for indulging me on these epic ramblings.

[philomathstudies]

Introduction: Hi! I’m Annie, I recently graduated as valedictorian of a class of almost 700, and I’m about to be a freshman at Johns Hopkins (go blue jays!!). High school was some of the best and worst moments of my life, and looking back, there are so many things that I wish I’d done and things that made me successful, so I wanted to share them! Of course, disclaimer, these tips may not apply to everyone!

(These tips generally apply to all classes, but if you have a specific subject you want tips on, I’ve taken these AP courses: european history, world history, us gov’t, macroeconomics, lang, lit, calc ab, chemistry, physics 1, physics c, environmental science, art: drawing, biology, human geography, chinese, and art history. Feel free to message me!)

College applications are a crapshoot- I can’t begin to tell you the number of incredible, brilliant people with extraordinary, international level achievements that got denied at top schools in favor of those lacking those accomplishments. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean those who got in don’t have qualities that earned them a spot, it just speaks to the unpredictable nature of the college application process. When deans of admission at top schools openly say they could reject all admitted students and build the same exemplary class from the waitlist, or that they have enough qualified applicants to fill 3 or 4 classes with, there’s a certain amount of luck involved. Therefore I urge all rising seniors to go into this process realizing that the odds are not in your favor. I went into the process with too much blind hope, too confident in my ability to be that lucky 1 in 10 (or less) that would gain admission, and I was sorely disappointed. So that leads me to my next tip…

Don’t do things just for your college application- Those slim acceptance rates are the exact reason I urge you not to join things solely for how good they look on a college application. It seems counterintuitive; wouldn’t they give you a better chance of acceptance? However, my point is not to dissuade you from extracurriculars, but rather to commit to ones that genuinely make you happy. As I wrote above, the process is so competitive that even international achievements may mean rejection, so don’t waste your high school experience by dedicating so much time and effort to something that you feel obligated to do.

Try everything your freshman and sophomore year- My biggest regret is not joining clubs where my passions lie simply because I was too lazy or scared of things like public speaking my freshman year. It’s much more intimidating to join as upperclassmen, and you may not be able to participate at all the levels/in all the ways people who have dedicated 3-4 years can. Even if you don’t think its for you (like debate for me because of my fear of public speaking), I urge you to expand your horizons and push yourself out of your comfort zone. Many clubs give you great opportunities to build leadership, public speaking, etc. skills and to find your passions.

Know both sides of the flashcard- I learned this tip from my organic chemistry class, and I’d never though about how useful it is. For example, if you’re memorizing polyatomic ions, it’s extremely important that you know both the formula and the name, as either version may show up on the exam. Not doing this also makes the weaknesses in your memorization evident- whenever I study vocab, I tend to glance at the side with the term and only memorize the definition. This meant that when I was given only the definitions, I couldn’t remember the word they defined, because I was so used to being given the vocab word and responding with the definition. 

The first lecture of the unit is one of the most important for STEM classes- I know the beginning of the unit can often seem like the perfect time to tune out, as it goes over information you’ve previously learned or the easiest material of the topic, but it often forms the foundation for everything else in the unit. For example, the first lecture on a stoichiometry unit will probably teach you dimensional analysis, a skill integral to calculating molecular or empirical formulas, moles or grams of a substance, etc. 

Buy/sell books secondhand- Everyone knows how expensive college textbooks are, but between SAT and AP prep books, and books for English, high school books can cost quite a bit of money too. Unless they redesigned the exam recently, you absolutely don’t need the newest edition of the review book, so buy from upperclassmen and then sell it to underclassmen the following year.

Learn to self study- Unless you’re really lucky, you’re guaranteed to have a teacher who doesn’t teach, teaches badly, or whose teaching style just doesn’t work for you. Personally, I find that self learning, especially if I’m struggling because resources such as textbooks and online explanations, and videos seem to contradict, really helps me understand the topic throughly. In AP bio, my teacher had us create claymation videos on the processes of cellular respiration and photosynthesis independently. It was incredibly frustrating and confusing because all the resources described the cycles in varying degrees of details, but I felt like I genuinely understood the topic, instead of having been spoon-fed the information and memorizing it. Obviously, this method isn’t very efficient for frequent use, but the key is to try to understand the material independently instead of going to the teacher the moment you hit a snag. 

Keep your backpack/binders/notebooks reasonably organized- When teachers ask for homework to be passed up and you have to dig through mountains of papers in your backpack, not only is that super stressful, but a lot of teachers won’t let you turn it in after they have already collected all the papers. I was definitely guilty of being lazy and just stuffing papers, once I got them, into my backpack instead of taking a few seconds to slide them into a binder, and as a result I got 0s on lots of homework because either I couldn’t find it at the time or because everything was so messy I didn’t remember there was homework. Try to have some sort of organization system going on or at least a homework folder, because those 0s add up and can be the difference between an 89 and 90. 

You’re gonna get senioritis, badly, and that’s ok- I’ve always been the type of person who did every homework assignment and was very focused on grades, so the idea that I would completely let myself ago seemed absurd to me. Don’t underestimate what senior year does to you. I can honestly count on one hand the econ worksheets that I actually turned in during senior year, and I made my first B in a grading period during the spring. I was very stressed about how awful my grades were, but unable to muster the energy to do anything about it. And you know what, it’s ok. It’s senior year, you can give yourself a break. Yes, your senior grades are still important for college applications, so don’t go from straight A’s to straight C’s, but for the most part, all the hard work is behind you. Do keep in mind that these habits may haunt you when you’re a college freshman. I haven’t started classes yet, but based on how little I studied for the math placement exam for my college, senioitis doesn’t magically end when you graduate, so don’t let it get completely out of control during the year. 

Learn how to do math without a calculator- If you take either of the AP Calculuses or the SAT, you need to master this skill because there are sections of the exams that are strictly non-calculator.  Beyond that, when you get to calculus, you’ll be introduced to complicated concepts, where not being able to multiply by hand will drag you down. 

Keep old notes- Not only for finals, but some topics are very interdisciplinary, like biochemistry, so it’s very important that you have a working knowledge of both biology and chemistry. As you take advanced classes, such as for me, taking physics c after physics 1, it will be assumed that you have completely mastered the basics, and they will be skipped or referenced very quickly. It is very useful to look at notes on the basics, which provide the foundation for the advanced material you learn. 

Invest in a whiteboard- Whenever I was learning about processes or cycles, from the Krebs cycle to organic chemistry mechanisms, it was really useful to practice drawing the steps over and over again. Then when it came to the test, I could do a brain dump and draw out the information as a reference. 

Understand formulas instead of blindly memorizing- This basically has physics and calculus written all over it. In physics, you should be given formula charts during exams, and in any case, something like F=ma isn’t terribly hard to memorize. The problem comes when there are a multitude of formulas that are derived from one of the fundamental equations. Of course, deriving from scratch each time is incredibly tedious, but I want to dissuade you from simply memorizing it or storing it on your calculator, because that means you probably don’t understand the physics behind it. What makes physics so difficult and different from any other subject you’ve taken is that every problem will have a slightly different scenario that tests your understanding of the physics behind it. 

Use all the time given to you during tests- I know I hate looking back through my test because I just get so bored halfway through, but missing points because of silly mistakes is honestly the most frustrating thing ever when you had plenty of time to check. Depending on if I have time, I like to cover my original work and resolve the question. If checking answers is not your thing, try slowing now when you first see each question, and checking your work briefly each step. 

Form study groups- Talking about something, especially teaching it to someone, always helped me remember something so much better than reading it on paper. It’s also so important to have second interpretations of the information you’re studying to ensure that you don’t make a huge misconception.  

AP students: released/practice exams are your best friend- Obviously, they’re the best resources for studying for the AP exam, but they’re also a great tool for a hint at what your teacher’s tests may look like. AP teachers have access to tons of College Board material and will often use questions directly from old exams. 

If you start getting confused during a lecture- Many times this is because I didn’t pay attention during the very beginning, so I’m missing that important foundation I talked about in the previous tip. Of course, I typically wouldn’t recommend doing things other than listening to what is currently being taught, but in this case, I would just get more confused and it’s a waste of time. So I discretely go back to my previous notes and focus on understanding them. 

The most stressful part of schoolwork is just thinking about your assignments- There’s always specific period of time that threatens to kill me- a week where I had two competitions simultaneously, in cities 3 hours apart. When you’re taking 7 AP classes at the same time, just reading over your to-do list will make you want to cry. Even on a normal day, as I go to classes throughout the day and my list of homework gets longer and longer, it makes me so stressed to where I’m planning out how to finish everything and I’m no longer listening in class. It overwhelmed me so much that I just wanted to take a nap and avoid school. But every single time, stressing about the work I have is 1000x worse than sitting down and actually going through each task. I find that what had seemed impossible before was very doable, and many times I even finished early enough to relax before bed. Keep a positive mindset, don’t underestimate your abilities, and have the discipline to start working immediately on the hardest days, and you’ll be fine. Of course, this doesn’t mean that the workload that is able to be handled by one person can work for another, and things like mental illnesses are things I have no experience in, so this is definitely just something that worked for me and is not applicable to everyone. 

Best of luck with high school! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask!

My AP World masterpost

Asks I’ve answered about school

[altalemur]

was tagged by @whosthathufflepuff so here we go

1. How tall are you? 5′4″. i am the short.

2. What colour and style is your hair? dark brown, and currently rocking the pidgeotte hairstyle (long on top, shaved on side and back). i used to dye some of it green, but that gets expensive.

3. What colour are your eyes? green with yellow inner-ring, although they are prone to change colors a lot.

4. Do you wear glasses? most of the time. i am nearsighted, so i take them off a lot if on the computer, reading, or working on crafting projects

5. Do you have braces? no, but i do have a pretty big gap in my front teeth. that’s how i whistle.

6. What is your fashion sense? very different depending on if i’m at work or personal time. at work, it’s business casual with khaki pants, button-up blouse and sweater vests. at home my style varies a lot between masculine: baggy jeans and t-shirt and/or hoodie or flannel shirt; feminine: dresses and nail polish and tight pants showing off my great ass; to miscellaneous/androgynous: tunics galore, large belts, boots, unicorn headband. it depends on my mood and how my gender feels that day.

7. Do you have any siblings? two older sisters. they are twins. fraternal, not identical. but we all look like clones of our mom, so we might as well be identical triplets when we were little. we look a bit more different now. i am the youngest and the queerest.

8. What kind of student are you? the kind who had severe mental health problems, and was only sometimes given disability accommodations. so basically i had a lot of potential (according to others), tried my best, but still slipped through the cracks. i got my Bachelors in Arts for Anthropology by the skin of my teeth.

9. What are your favourite subjects? anything that required critical thinking skills; i SHINED. loved biology, literature, languages, and of course anthropology. the gems that i really loved were a genetic biology class, a sex biology class, a human skeleton class, and another physical anthropology class. all of them were fantastic at proving that biology, sex, and gender are all a muddled spectrum on which humans enforce a binary limitation. also i got to handle real bones a lot.

10. What are your favourite TV shows? uh........ Star Trek Deep Space Nine? as far as tv shows i’m willing to watch over and over and over and over being the measurement for “favorite”

11. Favourite Books? pfffftttttt too many to list. i have an affinity for sci fi and fantasy. but gonna say the top hitters are A Door into Ocean by Joan Slonczewski; and Species Imperative series by Julie E. Czerneda. 12. Favourite pastime? craft projects, and reading fanfiction. right now i’ve been doing a lot of sewing. i also do a lot of woodburning. i also just finished One Punch Man anime and am looking for good fanfiction in it. i do a lot of fanfic plotting, (especially ways to subvert dominant narratives) but don’t write very much.

13. Any regrets? that i ever moved back to Indiana, instead of staying in Connecticut, or at least the East Coast. this place is a fuckin hell hole. my family is the opposite of supportive. and i’m employed by bigots who think they’re progressive.

14. What is your dream job? dream dream job? i want to be the Nonbinary-Autistic Margaret Mead. (slightly) more realistically? i want to be paid a living wage to sew grocery bags for low-income homes (and teaching sewing skills/home ec skills as well). like i am kinda in awe of these nonprofit bakeries and other small businesses that employ people who are “undesirable” by society (low income, homeless, disabled, ex-convicts, etc) and teach them skills that help them become more “valued” by society. i’d love to be able to make my own such place that focused on sewing and other home ec stuff. alternatively, an even more far-out dream, i’d like to bake medicinal cannabis chocolates for autistic/ADHD/PTSD people.

15. Do you want to get married? eeeehhhhh..... kinda? i mean i’m not averse to the idea. but i have a feeling i’m more likely to do it out of economic desperation than out of love. it’s a pretty flawed system, and the only reason to “marry” over just living with someone is for the economic benefits. ideally, i’d want to be a part of a polyamory/clan. about a dozen people, but i’d settle for five adults, as long as there was only one or two kids being raised.

16. Do you want to have kids and how many? i mean definitely i don’t want to produce biological children. but i am not averse to nurturing children in a parental manner.

17. How many countries have you visited? none. i am very bitter about this. but i am poor and disabled. so there ya go. i tried studying abroad in college, but they wouldn’t let me due to my grandfather dying (and apparently they were worried i’d kill myself while overseas).

i’m tagging @madamekoosdisco @down-sizing @not-so-superheroine @becausedragonage @tauntedoctopuses @kelasparmak @autismserenity @winblossomwin @twisting-vine-x @dawnavis

[drink-n-watch]

  Genre : Action, comedy, supernatural, urban fantasy, science fiction.

Episodes: 13

Studio: Bones

  You know what’s tricky? Navigating that confusing time between childhood and adulthood. Especially if you grew up as a bit of a loner. Feeling outcast and different all the time. And that type of isolation can cut deep. Loneliness can get to you and turn you into someone you don’t want to be. Luckily for Mob, he’s always had a loving family by his side. And master Reigen has always supported him best he can. And now, without even realizing it, Mob is surrounded by friends. But what would have happened if he wasn’t? What would a powerful psychic like that turn out to be without others to keep him grounded?

The first season of Mob Psycho came as a long-delayed delightful surprise to me. I had been putting off the series for reasons that are obscure even to me, and when I finally got around to watching the first season a month or so ago, I wanted to kick myself for waiting so long. Mob Psycho made me happy. Eager to learn from my mistakes I watched a few palette cleanser shows and dove right into the second season. Let’s see if I’m kicking myself again.

  is the suspense killing you?

  Production-wise, there isn’t much change between the two seasons. Mostly because it was a really solid production, to begin with. I was slightly more taken with Itou, Setsuo voice acting this season but only because a few scenes allowed him to tap into this calm and melancholy tone that he does very well. Mob Psycho has always been a visually distinctive show and the aesthetic is once again rigidly upheld. If you didn’t like the look of the show before, you still won’t. If like me you really liked it, well you can figure out the rest.

All of this said there were two notable improvements in my opinion. One is expanded colour palettes. There are dusk and early morning scenes that bathe everything onscreen in a wash of colours. Environments get plunged in sudden ominous darkness as superpowered character shine. It really gave a lot of dimension to the series and made Mob Psycho 100 II look lush compared to its predecessor.

The second visible improvement was the animation. Not that it was bad in season 1, to the contrary , but there is a whole lot more this time around and it’s awesome. The action is exaggerated and quick-paced with insane ragdoll physics and skewed perspectives that are frankly just plain fun to watch. I found myself completely engrossed in fight scenes no matter how obviously unrealistic they were, unable to turn away and biting at my thumbnail.

  I’m telling you, it looks great!

  Sadly I have a feeling that if you don’t like the art style, no matter how much praise I heap on the animation, it won’t sway you. So let’s talk story!

I recently wrote a post on 100 Word Anime discussing the pitfalls of comparing one anime to another so let me do it again right now… Mob Psycho season 2 reminded me of Natsume’s Book of Friends.

Some of you may know that I compared Mob Psycho 100 to Neon Genesis Evangelion. The first season did in fact bring that show to mind for me. This second season, however, has matured and tweaked its themes and no longer brought to mind the classic series for me. Now you may think I’m just using another excuse to mention Natsume yet again, I don’t blame you. I do that. But there is a reason. When I say Mob Psycho II reminds me of Natsume I mean specifically season 3.

The second season of Mob Psycho is a wild ride. The action is geared way up and the stakes have been raised considerably. Yet for all the heart-pounding adventures what I took away from the season was just how much Mob and the show itself had grown. I actually wrote it in my notes after the first episode and couldn’t help but grin like a Cheshire when the characters on screen started to echo that exact thought throughout the season. It’s great when you can feel like part of the team.

  well…most of the time

  The second thing I wrote is just how beautiful Mob’s personal evolution was. The young boy isolated and bound by anxiety and fear had come out of his shell. Without even realizing it, he suddenly finds himself surrounded by friends and for the first time even something akin to peers. And because he finally has that support system available to him, he can finally find the strength to confront his own power. He actually starts using it to help others in mundane situations instead of only having it as a last resort. His emotional gauge actually gets filled by positive feelings just as often as negative ones if not more so. He no longer sees himself merely as a burden to others and therefore he no longer is.

I wrote all these notes down happily then went over them. When that early feeling of deja vu hit me. As I leafed through my past notebooks I realized that I had written almost word for word the exact same thing for the third season of Natsume. Clearly, I need to get a bit more varied in my note-taking but it also shows that I know what I like. And make no mistake I loved this second season of Mob Psycho.

Reigen is my favourite character in the series. I generally love tricksters but beyond that, I think that one of the main reasons Mob didn’t fall apart in his younger years was because he always had Reigen by his side. I doubt I’m the only one with a soft spot for the 2-part midseason mini-arc that developed Reigen and Mob’s relationship specifically.

  these are some great episodes

  I always thought that Reigen genuinely cares about the boy beyond what use he could make of him. Fact is, Reigen is scripted to ooze shifty sleeve but when push comes to shove he’s actually an extremely capable guy. Ok, not as a psychic obviously but as a con artist, definitely. More often than not his advice is pretty good, he has impressive observations skills and is a wonderful huge of character and he is protective and caring of Mob. He trusts and believes in the boy even when the boy does not believe in himself.

But it’s the flashback that got to me. The fact that Reigen had grown bored with his psychic gig and was considering moving on. With his social skills, he could easily have found some other way to make a decent living. But a young boy clearly in need of someone walks into his office and he just couldn’t turn him away. Sure, if he could make a buck in the process, all the better, but that wasn’t the main motivation. And he’s still like that. When someone is truly in need of help, he doesn’t turn them away, ever.

Combine this with a Mob that has become self-assured enough to think for himself and even say no! A young man that has gained the maturity to accept his mentor’s limits and failings and still appreciate him. And you have a tremendous character arc in two short episodes. Not only did they develop both characters without resorting to exposition dumps but they also did so without sanitizing or retconing either. I said this a lot in the first season review, but Mob Psycho is a smart show. And it continues to be so.

Mob’s been through a lot this season

This season also brought some conflict that was way more nuanced. In the last episodes, we even see Mob gleefully revel in his powers and the destruction they wrought. He immediately stops himself and is filled with guilt but there’s something else going on. There’s a great attention given to Mob’s expressions. By default, he’s a bit of a blank canvass, largely expressionless. This season, as he’s opening up more his feelings are starting to show on his face. Small shy smiles, tiny barely there scowls… But when he goes to 100% then it’s the complete opposite. He is deliberately drawn to be terrifying, almost demonic. Dishevelled unnatural hair, impossibly intense eyes, an uncontrollable aura escaping from him. But in that one moment, that minute that he let himself enjoy his power, he looked….great. I mean he looked like a healthy happy young man. The spiked hair flowing lazily about him like a pretty anime boy, no visible aura at all, a relaxed smile reaching all the way to joyful eyes.

In another anime, I would have called this an odd design choice but not in Mob Psycho. For two seasons this show has been very precise with its imagery and particularly with Mob’ expressions. This was thought out and selected for a reason. The visual language of the anime is telling a completely different story from the script. It’s subtly showing us a boy that has been at war with his own nature for his whole life and the one moment of release came as a huge relief. A boy that could still go down a dark path. This is a moral ambiguity the first season stayed very far away from and a noted shift in narrative vision. One I am excited for.

I feel you Ritsu, it was quite a moment

I want to see more of Mob Psycho 100 and I hope I can do so soon!

Favourite character: still Reigen

What this anime taught me: Sequels are fantastic

Come, we’ll get drunk, quote movies and talk about how awesome we are

Suggested drink: Brown Sugar Manhattan

Every time Mob’s in street clothes – take a sip

Every time the show turns into a video game – take a sip

Every time we see a tomato – get a snack

Every time we see the super awesome Body Improvement club – Cheers!

Every time anyone is pantless – gasp

Every time Reigen seem kind of cool – put the drink down

Every time Mob gets a call – take a sip

Every time we see Mezato-san – take a sip

Every time other psychics are watching tv – take a sip

Every time Ritsu doesn’t get along with Reigen – take a sip

Every time you’re surprised by how touching this show is – check if season 3 has been announced

I love Bones’ visuals. They really speak to me. So once again I uploaded a whole bunch of screencaps to Pinterest and Imgur.

      Mob Psycho 100 s2 – Growing Up Genre : Action, comedy, supernatural, urban fantasy, science fiction. Episodes: 13 Studio: Bones You know what's tricky?

[the-chaotic-neutral]

Is it possible to go home again? Are your favorite books of childhood actually as good as you remember? Or should they simply remain just that, memories, never to be revisited? I went back to my childhood touchstones to see. The results were varied and interesting.

Chronicles of Narnia by CS Lewis

One of the earliest of my childhood loves to be taken off a pedestal. I was near obsessed with these novels as a child. I found the amount of world-building to be enthralling. It felt grounded and fantastic, and there always seemed to be more out there to be discovered. However, my memory failed me a bit regarding the specifics of the later books (or earlier depending on your preferred reading order).

Revisiting this was crushing. I suddenly remembered being put off by the nonsensical rules that seemed to govern Narnia… sometimes. And Aslan never. There were holes in the storytelling that eclipsed the actual story. And the Christianity. It’s not fair to call it symbolism or imagery. The reason I kept petering out toward the end of the series is that it goes from Christian allegory to a blatant Christian bible retelling. Which, both as a child and adult, is incredibly unfulfilling. But to my younger self, the Rapture ending was unforgivable. There was enough magic in Narnia and the other realms to save everything. Either the people could have rallied, or the citizens of Narnia, or Aslan. In order to stick with the canonical bible ending, Lewis was forced to write an ending where everyone essentially either forgets their power or forgoes their power, giving up and running away. It’s dull, derivative, and didn’t really hold up when I was a kid.

Still, there are aspects of the world-building that appealed to me as an adult. The parts that aren’t Christian, that is. There’s a mundanity to the magic that seems both sincere and slightly ironic. That sensibility is what I’ve kept with me. The fact that after magic is discovered then it simply is. The act of discovery can’t go on forever, and at some point the magic will either be gone or become part of every-day life. And the latter is what Narnia showed me.

Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher by Bruce Coville

I was the most nervous about picking this one back up. I’ve written at length about this book meant and means to me. My adult self is delighted to tell you that this book still works. Not necessarily on a prose level. The story is very simple, many details that I recall likely came from my imagination. It moved along as was over before I expected. It was, dare I say, breezy. The book was a perfect cocktail for my younger self because it was made of two ingredients.

The first was Jeremy Thatcher and his dragon. He was simplistic enough that my imagination could put me in his shoes, and his emotional bond with the dragon Tiamat. Style aside, the fact that I had a book with an emotional core to latch on to, rather than the story-driven books I was used to (a la Louis Sachar and the like). That just clicked with me. It stood out from the rest of my books at the time. This variation was showing me a difference between drama and emotional resonance. Did I understand that at the time? Hell no. But I had a book I could get emotional over that featured a dragon.

The other is the framing device of S.H. Elives’ Magic Shop. The shop shows up across a number of titles by Bruce Coville, creating a loose series. The fact that it was a place that revealed itself to each protagonist gave me just a bit of day-dream fuel that the next time I was walking home from school on a foggy day or just biking around town I had a small chance of finding an old shopfront I had never noticed before. And whereas with the wardrobe you get Narnia, or with an owl letter you get Hogwarts, the shop was so mysteriously stocked that I would often wonder what item should call to me from the shelves.

So yeah, this book still has some magic in it. It didn’t blow me away now, but I can clearly see all the parts that cemented it into my imagination as a child.

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

This one is probably the most disappointing revisit. I absolutely adored these books as a child. And unlike the Narnia books, I whole-heatedly loved the entire quintet. But upon revisiting these they were the biggest fall from grace, so to speak. Unlike the Narnia books they aren’t blatantly Christian, but they are blatantly pro-religion. There’s a pervasive, albeit holistic, focus on selfless devotion, grace, and faith.  To some that may not sound terrible, but I remembered these as being about children who found personal strength. The focus on faith takes away some of their agency and replaces it with a weak version of destiny.

Faith in and of itself is not a good thing. It is made through the pairing of belief and an absence of evidence, which is a terrible combination. Faith, both in definition and in practice within these books, requires a certain degree of ignorance. Faith without ignorance becomes confidence and loyalty. These books made me appreciate mysteries as a part of life, but I hadn’t realized how much they also eschewed the act of solving said mysteries.The takeaway I had with this series as that as a child I believed they were about strength and perseverance, but as an adult they have a strange reliance on faith and fatalism.

Tom Swift Jr. (Tom Swift IV)

Jesus, what was I thinking? The takeaway from these? Shame. Actually, that was what they taught me back then, as well. I stopped reading them after I had chosen it for a “what did you read over the summer” book report in elementary school and then was too embarrassed to talk about it for my presentation. I got a zero.

Okay, in all honesty I could see an anthology TV show being made of these today. They would be over-the-top faux 90s nostalgia and based solely on the covers, rather than any of the actual novels. They’d be produced by (and first episode directed by) Chris Miller & Phil Lord or John Carpenter, depending on how much they wanted to lean into the humor. And lord help me, I’d probably watch it.

The House with a Clock in its Walls by John Bellairs

This was an odd one. If you’ve ever revisited grade school as an adult you know how everything seems so much smaller. Well, the prose felt smaller. I remembered these books as dripping with a wry darkness. Not sinister, but macabre and mysterious. They don’t read that way to me now. Granted, they’re not bundles of sunshine. There’s death, children in peril, and well-meaning adults keeping kids in danger because they don’t believe they need all the facts. This isn’t the dark favorite I remember.

But it’s the foundation of it. There are elements that, when properly fermented and aged, will grow into my love of dark literature and sinister storytelling. There’s danger without cruelty. There’s darkness and the threat of violence, but it’s the mystery that fuels it all, not the threat of death. Death is just the seasoning, and that’s still pretty satisfying.

And then there are the illustrations. These books, or at least the editions I read and re-read, are illustrated by the illustrious Edward Gorey. Whether or not you know the name, there is little doubt you know his art. His creepy Victorian/Edwardian-esque art probably has at least as much to do with what I took away from these books as the text. I don’t really feel the need to contextualize that aspect of these books. It’s Edward Gorey. I loved his art then and I love it now.

Hexwood by Diana Wynne Jones

This one is probably the strangest and most complicated as far as lasting influence and  how well it holds up over time. This book may be the only one that could be considered more solid now than when I read it as a child.

The plot is bizarre and convoluted and purposefully opaque. The book is dense. I had a bit of a touch go with it this time around, though don’t remember it being a particularly hard read as a child. Now it comes across as a mix between Jeff Jeff VanderMeer’s Annihilation and the Canadian horror film Cube. But for kids.

Looking outside just the plot, the author, Diana Wynne Jones, dedicated this novel to Neil Gaiman, who had previously dedicated his mini-series The Books of Magic to four witches, one of which was her. There’s also the fact that the Studio Ghibli film Howl’s Moving Castle is based on one of her novels, something I did not know when I first saw it. Coming back to this book, with all these pop-culture threads that have woven back into my life, was like finding out that someone you befriended recently was in the background of some of your childhood vacation photos. It’s strange and unsettling but also a little comforting in a cosmic way. Like a little validation from the universe about who I am and what I like today.

There are countless books I did not go back to, including The Tripods trilogy by John Christopher, The Time Warp Trio by Jon Scieszka and Catwings by Ursula K. Le Guin. These weren’t out of fear so much as I realized that once I finished the titles that came immediately to mind there really wasn’t a point on delving deeper. These books all made my childhood to one extent or another. Some were emotionally fulfilling, others helped build my literary taste and personal aesthetics. The point isn’t whether they’re still fulfilling to me now, but that they served their purpose at the time. A Wrinkle in Time’s awkward religion felt like a huge blow to discover, but it’s not that bad. I tore through those books as a kid, often identifying with Meg and sometimes oddly put off by Charles Wallace. But that series left a desire for mystery in my genre stories. I liked that there was always more somewhere else in their world. The Narnia chronicles gave me a taste for concrete world-building, for an underlying mechanic and logic in the substructure of a book. This eventually led me to delight in the construction of Eric Nylund’s fantasy and is probably why the Feed and Wayward Children books by Seanan McGuire are utterly compelling and fulfilling to me as an adult. The John Bellairs books gave me a taste of the macabre with prose, and a second helping of darkness from the Edward Gorey illustrations.

That might seem like an obvious lesson, but it’s still worth learning on your own. There’s a security in knowing that while a loved story from youth may lose its appeal, that doesn’t make it any less meaningful. None of my subsequent loves and discoveries came tumbling down. I think there’s a strength in knowing that first-hand. It lets me be less precious with what I loved in the past. And when some of those old stories turn out to hold up, it makes them all the more magnificent.

Nostalgia calls! But do these classics from my childhood hold up? Can You Go Home Again? Revisiting Favorite Childhood Books Is it possible to go home again? Are your favorite books of childhood actually as good as you remember?