#but my main guy is too volatile

[koi-r]

The current first chapter goes ...

Sumiya is running away from home, quick before the armoured people catch up to her, quick before she's thrown back into the flames that swallowed her village.

It is unknown to her if anyone else survived, but her elder told her to run, never to look back (like a supposed tangent), to look for the keys to open the gates of heaven. She was supposedly blessed by the great Par'rend ever since she was young, but such blessings are unimportant, such blessings are worthless to her as she runs for her life.

She ran until she reached a forest, plunging deeper into its cover to put distance between her and the pursuers. As she ran, her mind raced with questions, but for now, all she could do was keep moving and hope to find safety before it was too late.

[venussaidso]

Vedic Astrology Observation (based on shows/films part 4)

I'm watching the series Archer and I guessed three main nakshatra archetypes correct! This includes Uttarabhadrapada, which is so potent in the two of the most prominent female characters in the main character's life.

First of all, this series is about espionage. So immediately, I know there are moon nakshatras. The main character, Sterling Archer, embodies lunar qualities: being a secret agent, going undercover, using disguises/aliases, trickery etc. etc.

Another hint that supported my theory of the character being lunar is how the fandom literally compare his character design to Henry Cavill who is a Shravana Moon.

As Henry Cavill is also famous for being in the espionage, spy film The Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Another hint is Archer being a huge fanboy for Burt Reynolds who he inspires after or quotes during his epic, spy missions. And Burt Reynolds is a Hasta Moon, Rohini Ascendant.

Burt Reynolds even guest starred in an episode as himself and we see our main character fanboying throughout.

Burt Reynolds is famous for his spy film Operation CIA in which he plays a CIA agent who is undercover as a university professor.

The character Sterling Archer has to be voiced by a moon nakshatra native, right?

Finally, I went out to find the voice actor and calculated his vedic chart. Thank goodness the guy has his birthtime available; and accurate, at that. And I guessed right!!! 😭👇🏼

Just like Henry Cavill, also Shravana, who was a highly voted candidate in the fandom to play the live-action version.

But, in the very beginning of watching this series, the character Sterling immediately struck me as a Sun nakshatra native. His inability to commit to a relationship or anything; having zero devotion to anything.

He improvises everything; not much of a planner which makes him come off more carefree. He is missing this cold, lunar quality to him of being a strategist or even just being highly intelligent. I've always believed that Sun men are quite... bimbos, to say the least. Claire Nakti explored this in her Sun dominant men video more articulately and respectfully; and Archer embodies this energy too.

So, in the beginning episodes of the series, I believed he was mainly Sun dominant before witnessing other aspects of the character expanding.

I also noticed that he is emotionally volatile and loud and extremely comedic, which is not really Solar or Lunar, but Rahuvian. And guess what? The voice actor is an Ardra Moon, which makes a lot of sense.

But, I was right, again, to assume him being a Sun nakshatra. Because the voice actor also has Krittika Sun. Ha!

The reason why his Sun nakshatra was more blatantly obvious in the beginning for me was because of his relationship with his ex girlfriend, Lana!

Lana, whose character design is quite literally inspired by Rihanna's physique.

Rihanna, who I personally believe is an Uttarabhadrapada Ascendant, as her birthtime is rated C (unlikely to be accurate). And even if you don't think she's Uttarabhadrapada, fine, but the character Lana is.

She is the Saturn nakshatra archetype.

She's very kickass, warrior-like and has a masculine edge— which are the type of characters usually played by Saturnians/Uttarabhadrapadas.

I immediately noticed with how she butts heads with Archer. Uttarabhadrapada is a nakshatra in which its women are known for emasculating other male archetypes/even going head to head with men ruled by fiery-hot planets such as the Sun. Their chemistry in the series is the epitome of the Saturn woman x Sun man pairing.

Sun and Saturn are literally mortal enemies.

But people with this planetary rulership tend to be intrigued by each other. It seems to be very similar to having an intense square synastry with someone, in my opinion, which might add sexual/romantic tension more often than not.

Archer's mother is another important female figure in his life who is also Uttarabhadrapada.

She's a hardened woman who is in charge of a spy agency, a masculine job, and she acts or looks very similar to characters such as 1996's Cruella Deville or Miranda Priestly (both also played by Saturn nakshatras; both characters' hair are pale white).

Malory Archer quite literally ruined her son's life since he was born; always emasculating him even in his adult life. She's had a very cold, (Saturn) oppressive nature towards him since he was young. Saturn nakshatras are either known to humiliate its natives, or natives under this nakshatra lord will further humiliate/abuse others into their cold grip.

A trope I've seen often with this nakshatra, which makes sense if you think of them being the literal ice dragon.

I immediately noticed that she is Uttarabhadrapada not just from her masculine, commanding role in the series— but from the outfits she wears in every episode. She's always wearing cold colours, especially powder blue.

Uttarabhadrapada characters almost always have something significant that is coloured blue, which you'll always associate with the character; as Claire Nakti brilliantly pointed out in her Uttarabhadrapada video. And that's how I knew.

And her relationship with Lana, who is also very Uttarabhadrapada coded, is interesting. The same way Sun men tend to respect each other and always find each other from across the room, Saturn women always have a quiet air of respect for each other's strength.

The first time Malory met Lana, she pointed a gun to her head and Lana stubbornly stood her ground. It was like Malory immediately recognized herself in Lana. She was so impressed by her that she hired her to work at her agency as a top spy, just like that.

I was so certain that they were Uttarabhadrapadas and finally had the courage to check their charts AND I WAS RIGHT! Both voice actors are Uttarabhadrapadas!!

Their dynamic features this very Ascendant-Moon synastry — I definitely couldn't have guessed that one. This synastry quite literally demonstrates seeing yourself (Moon) in someone else (the Ascendent person). I've been very into studying synastries lately and it's always interesting how it plays out.

Anyway, now it makes sense why Sterling has a connection with Lana. Even though Lana isn't half as worse as Malory, I've always noticed their similarities. Like Lana, Malory used to be a kickass, spy lady before Sterling was born. They both have very sharp, stern personalities and are frequently annoyed by Sterling's existence. And in Sterling's case, it is true that you'll subconsciously seek out traits in a partner that are similar to your parent's.

Also, Sterling's unhealthy relationship with women & sex (unsuccessfully) fills up the empty hole inside of him that was supposed to be nourished by his mother's love as a child. This makes him fearful of intimacy and closeness, which is common with Sun nakshatra natives.

Malory's neglect is still a running gag in the series — she's emotionally hardened which is a prominent theme for Uttarabhadrapada (especially for the female natives). Being the middle nakshatra in the Pisces segment, it truly is the only Pisces that can struggle with intimacy, vulnerability or melancholic fluff. Which makes sense as Saturn is there. Luckily in Revati, there is more freedom and unrestrained expansion. There is a reason why Venus exalts in 27° of Pisces, where Revati lies. Revati is everything love and philosophical. Uttarabhadrapada isn't always comfortable expressing sentimentality, as they tend to be very self-restraint or outwardly hardened.

Anyway. I'm not done with the characters. I'll make a part 2 once I have the energy.

Ugh I'm sooo good at guessing nakshatras! LMAOO 😭

Especially moon nakshatras. I'm still so intrigued by moon men.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

Image 1, Prompt 48 and Image 3, Prompt “Can we just exchange three words…” with Changbin please!! 🫶🫶

SKZ Prompt Game

Prompts: "You make me want things I can't have."

"Can we just exchange three words without you pulling a gun on me?"

Member: Seo Changbin

Relationship: Detective!FemReader x Serial Killer!Changbin

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Mentions of Crime Scenes, Blood, Murder, Guns, etc. (Nothing too graphic.)

"See you later, (L/N)."

You barely glance up from the evidence photos scattered across your desk as you wave your hand in the general direction of your partner's voice.

"See you tomorrow."

He hesitates at the threshold, hand on the main light switch, and you sense the pause, sighing as you finally glance up at him and meet his gaze with open resignation.

"What?"

"You're sure you want to stay? You're already way past overtime at this point. I could drive you home, we could maybe get a drink-" He hedges.

You look away from him to focus back on the cluttered desk. "I'm sure, Walker. Get out of here."

He sighs, but doesn't push anymore, flicking off the main lights, plunging the rest of the empty office into darkness as he steps out the door, leaving only your desk lamp lit.

"See you tomorrow then."

"Yep."

His footsteps fade away, and you move to the other side of your desk, head cocked, trying to get a different angle on the evidence spread before you.

Maybe if you just look at it differently-

The sound of a floor tile creaking-quiet and soft, probably barely noticeable to the untrained ear-sounds behind you, and without a second thought, you whirl, gun out and aimed steadily at the intruder.

Changbin appears from the shadows like a ghost, his hands up and a rueful sort of smirk already pulling at his lips.

"Can we just exchange three words without you pulling a gun on me?"

You un-cock the gun and slide it back into your hip holster as he saunters over, leaning back on the desk as you keep a careful eye on his movements.

You might be allies of a sort, but you still don't trust the guy farther than you could throw him.

"Cutting it a little close this time, don't you think?" You remark, alluding to the fact that your partner just left, and he wouldn't be too thrilled to see the man standing in front of you in the middle of the dark detectives' office.

Changbin shrugs, leaning over beside you to scan his eyes over the mess on the desk, his arm brushing your own.

"I watched him get in his car and drive away, don't worry. Seemed pretty downcast though." He gives you a sidelong, knowing glance, the smirk widening on his lips as he eyes you. "What'd you do, mama, reject his pathetic attempts at flirting and stomp on his poor, bruised heart just for the fun of it?"

You ignore his jibe and turn to glance at the items on the desk, even though you can still feel his gaze on you.

"I'm not talking about my personal life with you."

Changbin chuckles, leaning back in beside you, a little closer than he needs to be, and his hand brushes yours as he picks up a particular polaroid of interest, studying it.

"Yeah, well, it's clear that you need a man who's got a little more backbone than that guy anyway."

You resist the urge to slide your gaze to him, and pick up a picture of your own, though you know it won't help. You've been over them dozens of times and nothing ever changes.

No magical clue pops out and you doubt it will at this point.

You're desperate, and that's why you'd contacted him in the first place.

"What, like you?" You retort back, arching your brow, as you finally meet his eyes, dark and volatile.

He grins, wild and feral, and it's not hard to imagine blood spatter on his face.

He leans in close, and you resist the urge to move an inch, holding your ground.

"Exactly like me."

"I don't date my coworkers." You reply back stiffly, voice cold and even. "Especially not the ones in the serial killer vein of things."

Changbin arches a brow and tilts his head, considering. "Funny, because you sure seem to rely on my help a lot more than your little, spineless partner."

You don't back down, refusing to give into his intimidation.

"That's all it is-help. We have a deal. And if you can't hold up your end, then you immediately lose my interest. You're no different than every other criminal in this city at that point-useless and not good for anything except padding and warming a cell."

Changbin's eyes spark dangerously, but then he tips his head back and laughs, wiping at his eyes as he turns once more to survey the mess covering your desk.

"All right, all right, mama. Message received. God, I love when you get scary." He gives you a sidelong, unhinged smirk. "Let's get down to business then."

He fingers one of the polaroid's, then moves on to inspect one of the bloodied, tattered pieces of garment in a plastic bag just above it, his face suddenly serious and thoughtful.

"You don't have anything?" He asks, as he leans over and narrows his gaze, glaring down at one of the evidence sheets.

"Nothing." You sigh, sinking into the desk chair, rubbing at your temples, a headache already forming. "We thought maybe we had a partial print at the first scene, but it turned up nothing."

"Mm." Changbin muses, deep in thought, sliding his hand across the desk to pick up the press release, his eyes scanning over the lines of print. "MO stays the same?"

"Yeah." You nod, reaching for another picture and tossing it across the desk to him. "Unsub tends to pick out weak, young victims-makes me think they don't have a lot of strength to work with themselves-isolates them, bashes their head in, and then desecrates the bodies before taking any useful identifiers from the scene."

Changbin looks up sharply at your words, his expression thoughtful. "Identifiers?"

"Yeah." You repeat again, motioning to the evidence bags splayed across the desk. "We're talking easily removed shit-jewelry, hair clips, clothing logos-"

You reach for another photo and hand it to him, ignoring the way your fingers brush as you do so.

"-Down to stuff that's a little more work-teeth, tattoos, birthmarks, fingerprints."

Changbin narrows his gaze on the picture you've just shown him. "So your guy is cutting out anything he doesn't want recognized and taking it with him."

"Seems so." You nod, sighing and running a finger along one of the manila folders. "Spark anything?"

Changbin pulls up a nearby chair and plops down into it, loosening his tie as he does so, and not for the first time, you find it odd how nice and neat he looks all the time.

He always shows up to your late night meetings dressed in slacks, a vest, tie, and shiny dress shoes, hair done and skin clean.

Of course, you've never seen him after a kill, but for a serial murderer, the guy cleans up kind of nice.

He flicks the photo back onto the desk with the others and leans back, a bright gleam in his dark eyes.

"Yeah. I think I know a couple people who can help us out. But-" He leans forward, tapping his pointer finger on one of the more grisly photos, and his lips curl into the start of one of his excited, feral grins. "-adjust your search, mama, because you're not looking for a man."

Your eyes widen at the possibility. "You think it's a woman."

"I know it's a woman." Changbin replies confidently, pointing to another photo and then another, staring you down, as if waiting for it to click. "A man isn't gonna have the patience to comb over a murder scene like that and remove all the necessary evidence. Not to mention, what fucking guy do you know that would think to remove the pins from the female victims' hair? We don't pay attention to that shit." He sits back, looking smug. "Nah, you're dealing with a woman, and an experienced one at that."

You consider his words, and something clicks firmly into place as you survey the evidence one last time.

Fuck, that's the angle you were looking for.

You sigh and glance across the desk to the man sitting across from you, watching you steadily.

"Okay. Get in touch with your contacts and signal me in a couple of days. We'll schedule another meet up."

"You're the boss." Changbin replies easily, sliding back the chair as he stands, stretching his arms above his head.

His biceps are fucking huge. He could probably strangle you in one easy go.

You wonder if that's part of his arsenal.

"You're staring again." His voice is low in your ear, breath warm on your cheek, and you resist every urge in your body to startle away from him.

Instead, you remain completely still, staring straight ahead.

"Just thinking about whether or not you prefer messy or clean methods when it comes to your victims." You reply back in a level tone offhandedly.

Changbin chuckles, the low sound a rumble in his chest, and you resist the urge to take a deeper breath and get a clearer scent on his cologne.

Something earthy and pine based if you had to guess.

His large hands come down on the arms of your chair, effectively caging you in.

"Depends." He answers back smoothly, voice low. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, mama, as long as I get something in return."

You glare at him sidelong, and try not to stare as he slowly wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, staring you down like you're a piece of steak waiting to be devoured.

"We have a deal. And it doesn't extend past a working relationship."

"Ah, but you do admit it's a relationship." Changbin purrs, manic grin firmly back in place, the warm, strong lines of his body pressing into your back.

"I admit I want to put a gun to your head more times than not when we're together." You grit out, clenching your hands in your lap so you don't do just that.

He could overpower you so easily right now, looming behind you, larger than life.

You try not to let the thought put a shiver down your spine.

"That's just foreplay in my world, mama." Changbin murmurs against your ear, reaching up with one big hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, even as you force yourself not to flinch. "If you're trying to turn me on, it's working."

"Get away from me." You growl out, reaching for the gun at your hip, even as Changbin covers your hand with his own, pinning down your fingers.

"Let. Go."

"Ah, do I scare you?" He questions, finally releasing your hand and stepping back, just so you can pull out your gun and train it squarely on his chest, staring him down as you pull the pin back.

He laughs, cocking his head, watching you as if he doesn't have a care in the world and he's not currently staring down the barrel of your gun.

"That's a yes then."

"You don't scare me." You reply back evenly, finger just shy of the trigger. "You annoy me. There's a difference."

His lips curve into the start of a smirk. "Do you hate me, detective?"

You pause, considering his words. You hate what he's done, who he is, the innocent lives he's probably claimed.

You hate yourself, for letting him continue, just so you can have access to inside information.

"Yes." You admit, hand level as you keep the gun pointed solidly at him.

Changbin laughs. "There's a fine line between hate and love. I'd be careful if I were you, mama."

He leans toward you, and slowly reaches up, pushing the gun down between the two of you.

You remove your finger off the trigger, taking in a deep breath, before you un-cock the weapon, but keep it firmly in your hand.

"Do you like toying with me?" You quip out angrily, staring into the dark, endless recesses of his eyes. "Do you get off on watching me fear you?"

You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

He shrugs, tossing his hands out to the side, an easy smile on his face. "I mean, why do you think I do what I do? If the shoe fits-"

"I'm not one of your victims. Get the fuck out until I call for you." You motion with your gun toward the door.

Changbin shrugs again, moving past you toward the door, but he stops just shy of the desk, glancing back at you, before he leans over the piles of evidence to crowd into your space.

You don't back down, not moving an inch, as he reaches up and curls his large, warm fingers around the jut of your chin.

The gun itches in your lap.

"I don't fuck with you because I think you're on the same level of my victims, detective." He admits in a low, serious tone, his eyes never leaving your face.

You know you can't trust him, but you ask anyway.

"Then why?"

Something flashes across his eyes, too quick to catch. "I fuck with you to feel in control. Because simply put, mama, you make me want things I can't have."

You stop breathing, but Changbin releases you, straightening up and fixing his tie and vest with an easy sort of nonchalance about him, before he turns on his heel and heads for the door with a little wave of his fingers over his shoulder.

"Ta-ta, detective. Until next time."

He melts into the shadows, and you're left alone in the dark precinct, lit only by a lamp, with your thoughts.

[bombsonboard]

the day after yesterday: chapter three

Summary: Time travel is volatile, dangerous, playing god. And then sometimes  it drops you in just the right place at the perfect time. It’s a matter of perspective. You decide.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no Y/N)

Word Count: 4.4k

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Read it on AO3

A/N: So my scheduled post didnt work! But i’m still uploading this on Wednesday, just a little later than planned lol. Hope you’ve all had a good week and sorry for the lil bit late chaper!

You stood outside ‘Stillman’s Gymnasium’ feeling grateful it was a warm summer’s day and you didn’t have to brave the New York cold without a jacket. Bucky said he’d meet you here, he cleaned the gym after hours in exchange for weekly boxing lessons, promising it would be all theirs so you could work on your escape in peace. 

Turns out, jumping the turnstile to get on the subway was a hell of a lot easier in the 1940s, it just took avoiding every man with a conductor hat, which the crowds made easy, and you made it to midtown. 

All alone, you let yourself take a breath. Yes, you were stuck in the wrong time, but with the hope of getting home, it was quite an astonishing thing. This place wouldn’t even be here in twenty years, bulldozed for apartments. Having the privilege to be here was something you could hardly fathom but you tried to let yourself enjoy it, at least for the time being.

It was too easy to imagine yourself having a life here, who could be waiting for? Maybe a good girl friend, or maybe some guy was picking you up to go and see a movie, one of those old ones that are only on at Christmas or Sunday afternoons. Your dress would be a bit cleaner, your hair pinned out of your face and you would see him approaching in the distance.

In your mind he had a kind smile on his face, a few roses, not too many and he would walk up to you and say:

“Steve is gonna kill me when he finds out I took his nice sketch paper, this better be worth it.” 

You blinked out of your fantasy to see the roses had flattened into a stack of paper and the kind smile you dreamed of was replaced by Bucky’s blank frown. He looked at you curiously.

“What?” He brushed his hair back with his free hand.

“Nothing” You felt caught out.

He shrugged, slowly growing used to your strange looks, and pulled a bunch of keys from out of his trouser pocket and slid them into the door. Unlocking it and pushing the door open with a clunk.

“After you.”

The smell of sweat and floor polish hit you like a wave as you stepped inside and Bucky locked the door behind the two of you. On the bare brick walls hung dozens of pictures of men in boxing gloves, raising their arms in victory. Along the surprisingly clean wooden floor punching bags were lined up, the rich brown leather cracked and beaten from excessive use and just waiting patiently to be used again. 

The great big boxing ring was the main event, a square stage of battered cream, held together by rows of red rope. You wondered if it was red on purpose. 

You pictured one of the boxing matches happening right there in front of you, the crowd of screaming men, praying for their bet to come clean and bracing for the final take down. The champion raising his godly fists, shirtless, shining and soaking in the sounds of his glory.

So, this is what Bucky wanted to be before the army? You tried to see him there, posing for one of the pictures on the wall with his grin plastered to his face. Though, maybe thinking of him shirtless and sweaty really wasn’t the most efficient thing you could be doing at the time.

“So…” Bucky comes to stand next to you, and offers you the paper

You take it with a quiet thank you.

“Do you have a-”

He hands you a pencil.

You swallow, turn around and begin to lay out the pieces of ‘borrowed’ sketch paper out on the glossy brown wood.. 

“There’s a desk in the office, y’know” Bucky points out, watching you crouch to the floor.

“That’s okay, I’m fine here.” 

He looks at you, confused and waiting for any kind of explanation you would offer.

“I’m gonna need…quite a bit of space.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, accepting that’s all he was getting, and goes to lean against the wall.

You start your chicken scratches, numbers in the tiniest handwriting you could manage, but the nagging sensation of his presence there itches at you incessantly. You lift your head and notice he’s just standing there, watching you. 

“Don’t you have cleaning to do?” It came out a little more spiteful than you intended.

“Looks pretty spotless to me” He kept his eyes trained on you, not bothering to look around at all.

“Okay, so you don’t need to be here then?” You didn’t mind the company really, but why did it have to be him? It was better for you both if he just left you alone.

“I’m responsible for this place, how do I know you won’t mess it up?” Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.

“Christ, I don’t need a chaperone.” 

“I’m sure you don’t, spitfire” He scoffs “but I'm not leaving, so…” He gestures for you to get back to your work “Go on.”

Rolling your eyes with maximum effort you go back to work and start to lose yourself in the math. Spread out on the floor with your ass in the air probably wasn’t the most ladylike position but who cared, Bucky didn’t seem to make a comment.

You willed yourself to stop wondering about him for just a moment so you could focus on the task at hand. If you were going to figure out the coordinates to put into the GPS, you needed a start point. It was 1943, that you knew but, the specific date was what you really wanted. There wasn’t anything that showed you today’s date in your immediate vicinity, so your eyes wandered and landed, unfortunately, on Bucky, who had his feet propped up on the front desk, head stuck in a newspaper. 

"Is that today’s?” You ask from the floor.

“Yu-huh” He mumbles from his wall of news.

Of course he had the thing you were looking for. 

“...What’s the date on it?”

He folds over one corner so you could be victim to his blank stare. “You don’t know what day it is?”

You stare back. 

“11th June.” He supersedes.

“Thank you.” 

He flips his corner back up and you go back to your work silently.

“11th June 1943.” You mumble quietly as the numbers take over your head again.

Hour One

The silence didn’t last half as long as you hoped it would.

“So, how long does something like this normally take?” Bucky wonders after a while, as if you launched yourself into the wrong time all the time, you felt yourself getting offended until you remembered he had absolutely no idea. 

Scribbling down the total days you needed to travel you hid your face from Bucky.

“A while.” You hoped he didn’t hear the small crack in your voice. 

“Great. Maybe it’s enough time for me to figure out why you’re so weird.” He chuckled lightly.

Bucky Barnes, ladies man.

“Oh you’ll figure it out…in 29,209 days” You mumble under your breath, you didn’t mean for him to hear, but when you’re the only two people in a room, it’s hard to keep secrets.

Bucky shakes his head in amusement, ignorant of just how truthful you had just been, but he was quiet for a little while longer after that.

Hour Three

Eventually grew restless of the front desk and sauntered over to the back office. You wondered who might usually be found in there, some short and stubby gym manager, dark hair slicked back with wiry eyebrows that look so much like caterpillars they might crawl off his face. A cigar permanently between his lips. 

You cracked a smile at the image until you heard exactly what Bucky was doing in there. The crackle of a gramophone interrupts your thoughts and the smile falls from your face. You had no complaints about forties music, really, but you were convinced he was doing this on purpose, taunting you with warbling jazz.

With a frustrated grumble you threw down your pencil, abandoned your work and stalked over to the back office. He was there, leaning back on a chair with his arms crossed, eyes closed and absorbing the music echoing around the room. 

Sure, he looked peaceful, but there were bigger stakes here than Bucky Barnes enjoying a record. 

You rapped on the door forcefully but he didn’t jump to attention like you wanted.

Bucky slowly opens his eyes and looks up expectedly.

“Could you…turn it down?” You mimicked turning down a volume knob, and he looked at you blankly.

“Please.” It pained you to add.

“Turn it down?” He mimics your action, eyebrows furrowing. “And what’s that?”

“The music” You impatiently pointed it out and walked over to the small gramophone, singing pleasantly in the corner. It would be a relic any other day but right now it was just annoying you.

Shoot, no volume control you realized, it seemed people were just happy to hear music here, nevermind the volume. A little joy in a somewhat bleak time in history. 

You needed your peace though, one way or another.

“Could you just turn it off?” You turned to leave.

“If this is gonna take long, I’d like to have something to entertain myself.”

You stopped, breathing in and out to stop yourself from killing him before his inevitable death date.

“You don’t even have to be here” You crossed your arms across your chest.

He smiled at your irritation “Tell you what, I’ll give you a chance.”

While you were occupied with how he just had the audacity to patronize you, Bucky stood from the chair and took the trash can from the corner and placed it at the other end of the office from you.

“What are you doing?” You watched him closely.

He walked back over to you with a self- satisfied smile, taking his time as he stopped just inches from you, the tips of his shoes touching yours just about.

“Bucky?” You felt your heartbeat palpate, your chest go tight.

He wordlessly leaned past you to grab an old coffee mug full of pencils that sat on the desk behind you. Bucky pulled away to stand next to you and embarrassment fizzed in your stomach. Bucky smelt like leather and his mothers cooking.

“First one to get three pencils in a row in the trash can wins. If you win, I’ll turn it off and I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

You found that hard to believe and it must’ve shown on your face.

“...mostly,” He added. “But if I win, the music stays and you can’t say a thing about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, swee- spitfire.”

He looked at you with his blue as a cloudy sky eyes as you sized him up. It seemed fair and you were always one for a good bet, but the way he looked at you made you feel like he knew something you don’t. Figuring that look out would have you spinning for days.

“Do you need me to move it a bit closer?” He suggested condescendingly.

“Fine.” You grumbled.

“Ladies first.” He held the mug out to you and you grabbed three pencils with a roll of your eyes.

It had to be easy right? You didn’t have the worst hand eye coordination in the world but it wasn’t one of your most notable qualities. The only thing you had going for you was a desire for Bucky Barnes to keep quiet, and you were about to find out how good of a motivator that was.

You toss the first pencil and it lands in the trash can with a happy little clang. The second pencil was subject to pressure and bounced on the edge before landing safely inside, you celebrated inwardly, trying to hide how invested you were in a game of throwing pencils, but you were so close to victory, sweet victory.

One final pencil in your hand, you looked to Bucky “Any final words?” you ask smugly.

“I’m good.”  He stared straight ahead.

The last pencil is in the air and you swear you’ve never felt this tense in your life. Maybe apart from the time you landed in the 20th century by accident. Taunting you, it bounced off the edge like the second but this time it was the wrong way. You watched in disbelief as it clattered to the floor.

“Shit.” You muttered and tried to hide how actually sad you were to miss your final throw.

“I’d offer condolences but you were a little cocky at the end.” Bucky plucked three pencils from the pot.

He effortlessly tossed his pencils in without a second thought, one, two, three, in quick succession, giving you no time to think of a plan to sabotage him at all.

Bucky looked at you with a smile “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Best of three?” You grasped at any chance he might give you.

Bucky just laughed. In your face. You let out a combination of a grumble and a sigh and stomped out of the office.

He had won, the music stayed.

Hour Five 

“C’mon you should take a break.”

Bucky had stayed mostly in the office, humming to his music. You had migrated to the boxing ring to lay out your findings. He had been leaning against the door, keeping his eye on you for the last five minutes.

“Can’t take a break.” You didn’t look up.

“You’ve been scribbling for like ten hours” He groans.

“I’m not scribbling” You retort, but looking down at the paper ‘scribbles’ was definitely an accurate word, not that he needed to know that.

“What are you doing then?”  

“I’m working out- ugh, stop it!” You needed to be more on the ball with his incessant questions.

“It’s for your own good”  You told him as sternly as you could manage.

“Yes Ma'am” He grins cheekily.

He moved from the doorway, you cursed yourself for having half your attention on him again.

“I don’t think you’ve ever taken a break in your life, you’re so…tightly wound.”

You had half a mind to tell him why you were really ‘tightly wound’ right there and then. But then the fatal implications and so on…blah blah blah. 

“I take breaks.”

“Hard to believe, you ever been to the movies? Or a dance, maybe?” His analyzing eyes felt like they could see right through you.

“Sure, I’ve been to dances.” You brushed him off and continued writing. Maybe they weren’t the dances he would be familiar with but you had been to some. They just played the Black Eyed Peas, not Vera Lynn.

“Really? Because you haven’t recognised a single song I've put on.”

Oh. He had you there. 

“Maybe I just like different music.”

“Who doesn’t like Dick Haymes?” 

You put your head back down, ignoring his teasing and diving back into work, and hopefully convincing him that you just weren’t interested in extracurriculars. 

“Don’t worry, Spitfire, I’ll get you dancing.”

Hour Eleven 

He had run out of records a couple hours ago and was now entertaining himself by standing by the entrance and using some spare paper to fashion a paper airplane and seeing how far he could throw it.

The boxing ring was covered in a blanket of math now, you sat cross legged in the center, surrounded by stretches of equations, statistics, and graphs, traveling along y axis and x axis, finding each coordinate you would need. You had worked this long before but after a day of exerting yourself physically, the strain was weighing heavily on your brain. 

You close your eyes for just a second but a rude and painful awakening comes from a sharp poke in the side of your head. 

“Sorry!” Bucky calls from across the room.

You sigh and stand, rubbing the side of your head “It’s fine, I needed to wake up anyways”

You were in the land before energy drinks, your go to when the numbers become squiggles in your eyes. 

“There somewhere that sells coffee around here?” You grumble.

“Um” Bucky points to the window and you see nothing but black.

How had you missed the sun going down? 

“Nevermind.” You ran a hand over your face, eyelids growing heavier by the second, but you knew you couldn't afford to sleep, not now.

But your brain was too exhausted to make sense of the final coordinates you needed and there was no point in half-assing this and ending up in the wrong time again. You had read in some study that regular breaks actually proved to help total productivity, as hard as it was for you to believe, you weren’t opposed to a little experimenting.

Tip toeing carefully over your working, you sat on the side of the boxing ring, waiting for productivity to strike.

Bucky abandoned his paper airplane to sit next to you. The air felt heavy around you and all you could feel was the incomprehensible weight on your shoulders. You had no idea what Bucky thought, you had hardly been nice to him. But the way he was looking at you made you think he just wanted to lighten your load, just a little bit.

“So, how's it going?” He asked after a minute.

“It’s…getting there.” You fiddled with your hands “Maybe.”

“You really are weird, y‘know?”

He was smiling at you, like he had just paid you a sweet as sugar compliment.

“Thanks, Bucky.” You gave your sarcastic gratitude.

With a sudden burst of energy, he practically waltzes to the back office, you watch with amused curiosity, and when he appears again, he’s carrying the gramophone with both hands, a record under his arm.

He places it happily on the corner of the ring, lifting the red rope, he slides under and stands in the boxing ring. What was he doing now?

“C’mon.” He tilted his head at you with a smile.

Waiting for you, you supposed.

“What?”

Bucky began to pile up you papers covering the space and you flew into a panic, if he messed them all up you’d have to spend another hour putting them back in the correct order so they made sense, you hadn’t thought to number your pages because you thought he wouldn’t be stupid enough to touch them. You thought wrong.

“Bucky!” You shrieked with wide eyes.

He looked at you, calmly “I’m keeping them in order.” 

His habit of reading your mind was getting pretty annoying. You follow his lead and shuffle under the ropes out of curiosity. With your math tower tucked safely to the side out of harm's way, you faced him with a confused look. 

“You needed to wake up, right?” 

“Are we going to box? Because I don’t think I'm up for that right now.” 

“No, no” He takes the record out of its sleeve with a flourish and places it on the gramophone, setting the needle down, humming with excitement.

An upbeat song begins to play, filling the hall with hearty trumpets and jiving double bass. It almost felt like they were in the room somewhere, hiding under the boxing ring with their instruments. 

You stood a meter away from Bucky, no closer and no farther. He held out his hand, you looked around you as if there was any one else he could offer it to. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, you could barely hear yourself above the music reverberating around the walls.

“Dancing.” He said it like it was obvious.

You didn’t think you get stage fright in the absence of an audience but Bucky had a funny way of making you nervous. For the third time, you were stuck gawking at his open palm. The vibrations of the music sent waves through the boxing ring, an invisible hand urging you closer to him.

“I don’t think that’s, maybe not-” You splutter.

You tried to think of the ripples in time this could cause but all you could really focus on was how much you wanted to feel his hand in yours again.

“Spitfire.”

When would you ever get the chance again? Never, that’s the answer. Sure, time might crumble before you but he looked so happy standing there, and he didn’t have many of those moments left.

“I swear every time you look at my hand it’s like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That’s what he had in store. Becoming the most infamous ghost story history had ever heard. You made peace with the universe in a surprisingly short amount of time and decided Bucky Barnes needed this more than anything else in this world.

“You gonna keep on staring at my hand or are you gonna take it?”

You take a few tentative steps towards him and slide your right hand into his left. He directs your other hand to rest on his shoulder and he slips his hand behind you. He tucked you closer to his chest with a shy smile and a gentle pull, you gazed up at him with bright eyes, a smile hiding in the corners of your mouth just waiting to blossom.

The next ten minutes, Bucky spends teaching you how to swing dance after coming to the conclusion you had never danced with anyone in your life.

“I have!” You insist after you step on his toe for the seventeenth time.

“Do they still have feet?” He asks in fake concern. 

“Ha Ha.” You poorly cover your genuine laughter, but you couldn’t hide the smile that had crept up on you anymore.  

Dancing with Bucky was a whirlwind in the most literal sense, you spun like a pinwheel in and out of his arms. You spent half the time spiraling into danger and he would be there to catch you as if there was no risk at all. 

When he kept you close, you could just about hear him counting to the music under his breath. It was an endless night of numbers for you, but you were convinced you had never been as dizzy as this before, dipping in and out and twisting up and down but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. There was something transporting about it, bringing truth to your daydreams.

Dancing with him felt more like time travel, than well, actual time travel. 

You were glad he wasn’t enhanced yet, or he would hear your heartbeat picking up speed. For a moment he was all you could think about, and you finally had no complaints. 

Until you saw your papers topple and scatter on the floor, the jolting of the enthusiastic swing dance lesson had your precious work falling all over the floor. 

Quickly, it all got too much, heat rushed through you and the music was thumping in your head. He was too close to you, chests stuck together that should never have touched in the first place, Hands glued to his, you were trapped in his time and you were losing yourself by the second. If you didn’t let go now, who knows what you could cause. 

“Stop, stop!” You pulled away, ripped your hand from his, stumbling back and catching yourself on the ropes. 

“You alright?” Bucky spoke cautiously behind you.

“Yeah, yes I’m okay, I just-”

You swallowed down the bile rising from your stomach, and turned to see him standing there with concern in his eyes. Damn him. Damn him for helping you.

“I need to get this done.” You hurried to pick up your work and put it back into the correct order, scared to even look at him again.

“Okay.” He sighed quietly.

Hour Fifteen

Bucky had fallen asleep sometime ago.

The sun had come up again, the cloudless sky left the blinding beams of sunlight to burst through the windows.

His gentle snoring was the only sound as you held your breath,staring at the coordinates. Double checked, triple checked. All you had to do now was put them into the GPS and go.

But something was keeping you here, just for a few moments more. If it had anything to do with the man sleeping a couple meters away, you weren’t sure. All you could do was keep your eyes on the key to your exit.

“You worked through the night?” 

Okay, so he wasn’t asleep anymore.

You could disappear right there in front of his eyes and leave him questioning everything for the rest of his life, even though you thought it would be a little funny and maybe he deserved it, it was just too risky. 

“Done it before” You shrugged.

“Well my sleep was great, surprisingly sound” He began to walk over “Oh, and if my Ma asks where I was all night, do me a solid and say the recruitment center, something about long queues i don’t know.”

Hang on.

“You haven’t enlisted yet?” 

“No?” 

“Haven’t been to the recruitment center at all?”

“Been a bit busy” He chuckles

“Well you should go, go do it now”

“What?”

You thought he had gone by now.

“I’ll do it later, suppose” He shrugs

You looked at the coordinates. You could go home. But you couldn’t. Bucky hadn’t enlisted. And if he doesn’t join the army then, then Steve probably wouldn’t either and Captain America wouldn’t exist and maybe we didn’t win the war, maybe we lost all of the wars, the battle of new york, the battle of the earth.

Him not becoming a sergeant . you couldn’t begin to think of the implications.

Was it all your fault? 

“Been thinking about it a lot and I know my dad did and all that, but…I don't know”

You had currently beaten your record for amount of shits in a twenty four hour span ten times over.

Getting home, All of this means absolutely nothing if Bucky doesn’t go to war. 

He needed to enlist, he had too, you were to blame for this, and you were damn right gonna fix it.

You had to make him join the army, no matter the cost.

Maybe you could afford a couple more days here, you supposed.

“You figure out all your math?” Bucky asks. 

You turned to him and stood.

“Not quite.”

Tag-list: @emily-roberts @enchantedbarnes @marygoddessofmischief @nickangel13 @elxvrr @pixiesbored @skittle479 @sweetwritingfanficfriend @curlycarley​ @acceptedbyace​ (bold means I couldn’t tag you)

[catesartworks]

Isekai Maid Asks Pt. 4

Hello!

I have some asks below the cut that I got in my inbox I've gotten over the following months. Sorry it took so long!

Thank you so much for reading! Glad you like it :DD

Emilie most likely sees Claire as her own person, rather than an extension of Phoebe or King Dimitri (Claire's parents). Claire was born as a replacement for her elder brother, who was assassinated, and wasn't very close to her siblings or parents.

I think Emilie just saw a lonely child who needed someone.

Deliliah and Saoirse were lovers, definitely. Way before Saoirse became Caravaggio's mistress, Saoirse was dedicated to Delilah. Their relationship will be explored in season 3.

King Dimitri abolished the monarchy by purges. The aristocracy had tried to assassinate him because of his volatile personality and short temper. They wanted to replace him with a distant cousin. So he found a select, small group of nobles who would do his bidding, and started with killing any relatives that could pose a succession risk to him. Then, he killed all nobles (plus their families) who participated, or he thought participated in planning his assassination. He confiscated their properties and wealth afterwards.

In a way, yes. It was about Phoebe and Clara working through their own grief. Phoebe and Clara were co-protagonists.

If Clara survived and lived into older age, I think that Bridgette would still exist, but she wouldn't be "aware" like Clara is. She also would probably have a different name and life events that aren't influenced by it. Thing is, Bridgette is a bit of a glitch, and can theoretically have a second body on "standby." If Clara somehow was alive when she shouldn't be, she could even pass "herself" on the street! But most of the time, Bridgette's just born again and birthed normally. So she gets a hard reset and has to experience life all over again.

Pepper's daughter, Lily married into the Limpette aristocracy to get revenge for her mother. She had loads of blackmail material by the time she was older, and she was able to get compensation for her mother's wrongful death. Currently, Lily's descendants are quite rich, but fragmented due to some being loyal to Teffrah, and the others, the Kolt/Limpette aristocracy.

There are a bunch of other countries surrounding the three main ones. There's multiple continents as well. But I don't want the scale to get too big, so if I introduce new countries they probably won't have the same attention as Limpette and Teffrah. But I will have them mentioned in season 3.

Thank you so much! Yeah, I wish I had some of those stones too, hearing sensitivity can huuurt. ( T 0 T )

Thank you!

As for the "you were the whole character all along" trope I don't think I will use it since my story is really complicated/confusing sometimes, and I'm not entirely sure I could pull it off! ( T w T )

I tend to drop the really bad ones, but Iris: Lady and Her Smartphone was one of the first Otome Isekai I read, and while I still have a ton of love for it because of nostalgia, I also know that it uses some pretty terrible tropes that have come to haunt the genre.

The whole fossil fuels thing was just ughhhhh! They had a renewable resource, the magic stones and they just...pollute their world like we do because of Iris.

I finished it until the end, though....so...haha

It depends on the genre, or the setting. I think the main characters (Bridgette, Marina, and Shellie) would really thrive in a futuristic setting.

And I did make a jokey image "what if the maids were in a horror action survival webtoon?" where Lord Anders exploded because of a demon apocalypse, and the only people who could survive were maids.

I didn't finish it, tho

Thank you!

Yeah, I noticed that. I think as long as the maid is being compensated, it's fine but so much of the time I'm just thinking "you guys need to hire more people." Especially in "Divorcee's Dessert Cafe".

Neither would have any time on their hands for the level of product their making, not to mention the main character is always running off with the princes so many times I'm just wondering how she even manages a store.

But it's a fantasy a lot of stories have, not just in manhwa so it's nothing new. People fantasize a lot about opening bakeries, even though the reality is waking up at four every day and dealing with terrible customers.

Thanks for reading Isekai Maid! I really appreciate it. ( ^ w ^ )

[exammole]

Link to Miraculous master thread here, polishing my rewrite of Season 0 and the Magic System

I'm slowly beginning to get reinvested in this rewrite, so I wanted to update my Season 0 plans. I only will be explaining the changes relating to the previous posts linked above, so make sure you read them.

Paragraphs highlighted in red relate to the Miraculous, ones highlighted in green relate to the story/characters

The origins of the Miraculous remain the same, they're made by Gimme and given form by the mage guy in the comic. In the original drafts of this rewrite I was keeping the Chinese Miracle Box, but I've decided to remove every single one but Barkk. Having twelve Kwami in the story makes everything too crowded and takes away screen time from the OG's. So in the rewrites current version, only the main seven survived the Guardian Temple's destruction.

Bringing up Barkk, I ended up changing the name of her power from Adoration to Location. Barkk isn't one of the main seven Kwami Fu saved from the Temple's destruction, but instead who's Miraculous was recreated in modern day by Lila. (I tried so hard to give this power to Fluff you don't even know 😭😭😭)

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned this part, but in the Season 0 post I mentioned the mage who created the Miraculous passed down his magic to his children, and to theirs, and that was the new origins of the Order. Lila is a descendant of that mage, meaning she can both read Miraculous texts and create new Kwami.

Shown in the Magic System post, I gave a rundown through each Kwami's power, but I'm feeling like the way I wrote them down was too intricate and boring, so here is the updated definitions:

Tikki - Creation - Can create anything

Plagg - Destruction - Can destroy anything

Nooroo - Transmission - Can send anything

Wayzz - Protection - Can protect anything

Trixx - Perception - Can project anything

Pollen - Action - Can move anything

Duusu - Emotion - Can change anything

Barkk - Location - Can track anything

In this updated version, any power the user can think of that relates to the Kwami's concept, they can have that power. The catch is that the user can only use that one power forever. Using Tikki as an example, you could manifest the power of Creation as creating any object, or you could make little minions, or maybe you could fix damaged objects.

For the sake of the plot, these powers can't infringe on another active Kwami's magic, so you can't manifest the powers as to reveal a users identity (mostly due to Quantum masking), nor could you nullify or prevent another's power.

The Prodigious in my rewrite stays the same, the Guardians wanted to see if they could make Miraculous on their own and created a highly volatile and unsafe object, so they sealed it away with the help of the Mages and Gimmie. The Prodigious allows the user to transform into eight different animals correlating with different values. if you're motivated by the virtue you can transform safely, but if not, you will get your life force drained (kinda like what happened to Gabriel when he didn't feed his Kwami's) and die horrifically or something.

Since the Dragon Kwami doesn't exist anymore, I'm thinking of giving the Prodigious to Kagami instead of Fei Wu, this gives me an excuse to give Tomoe an actual motive, that in return of kick starting Gabriel's fame, he'll give her the Prodigious for power. And then we can repeat mirror the Adrien/Cat Noir, Gabriel/Hawkmoth dynamic with Kagami and Tomoe.

Kagami isn't an amok anymore, but Adrien still is. Felix and his whole side of the family have been cut, and Emilie is a non-royal, only child now. Alike my Season 0 rewrite, Fu gave Marianne the Butterfly Miraculous to help her fight during Frances occupation, never got it back because he ran off as soon as he heard of Marianne's engagement, X years passed and she gave birth to Gabi Grassette, and his dad gave him the Butterfly Miraculous after she died.

Because I like to give characters unnecessary connections; Gabriel, Natalie and Emilie all attended Francoise Dupont as children, and the old Grassette family home is the now the Boulangerie Patisserie.

Atm I've left character backstories on hold, however since I've pretty much done an yet-to-be-updated Marinette's, maybe I'll post that soon. I'm also trying to figure out the villain order, I'll be shifting and rewriting villains from different seasons into the first one, but that's all for a later date. Sorry for the break, if you have any questions I'm free to ask :P

Edit: Changed the colour of a few paragraphs, mb

[barrel-o-monkeys-lmk]

My theory about monkey kid:

I think I've realized how monkey kid arcs work, because DBK was posessed by LBD, and Spider Queen was essentially a puppet to LBD and season three was LBD. It's a puppet chain leading to the puppeteer as the main bad guy.

Now think about how season four went. The cycle reset. Azure was a puppet to the king of the underworld, but for it to continue, the king *can't* be the next big bad, it would shorten the cycle.

So either,

A: the king is, and they fuck up their three season cycle they've got going, OR

B: someone else the king planted is the conflict. Someone we know. Ink-K.

(looking at this through a system biased lens,) what if Ink-K is still here? Pressuring MK. And what if: MK is struggling with what he talked about, "wanting to go back to their monster of the week adventures". And also his monkeyness.

I see the way HOC works is an In-between of MK and Ink-K. Where MK is good, and Ink-K is (generally) evil. HOC is neutral.

And the reason why MK was acting so different as HOC is because HOC is MK's "real emotions" perse, like if: because he was human for so long, his emotions have been stuck humanish, and HOC is like a puberty-ish emotional fluctuation for MK. And a bit of a confidence boost, a feeling of freedom, but it's like removing a "masking" of sorts, letting it all out.

And Ink-K is *pushing* MK to the evil he wants him to be throughout the season.

What if MK, or even Ink-K is *CAUSING* monster of the week adventures, and realizing rather quickly that they are too low scale for him.

Hell, even his monkeyness causing him to hang out with wukong and macaque more to talk to them about all of this, and like how the hero and the warrior went, MK leaves the main crew behind for most of the season, going off on his own, dealing with his thoughts away from them, and through the season, they have to have an intervention with MK, talking about how he needs to stop what he's doing, and asking to talk it out, but MK's volatile emotions cause him to lash out causing either a deep look within himself to ask "what happened?" Or even a fight with the main cast, and maybe even Wukong and Macaque, to get him to see reason.

Before Ink-K pressures him further, and MK talks it out with the group. Not an external "Big Bad" for the season, but an internal conflict as he handles his new emotions, before accepting what he is, and becoming a monkey permanently. HOC (a median-like entity) becomes the new host in a sense, before Ink-K and MK have a final bout, before they both talk it out, before Ink-K sulks in a corner, and comes back about half way through season 6.

That's how I predict the new seasons will go, before *something* happens to put the king in the spotlight, like maybe him stealing the jade emperor's power from nezha, and causing the cast to rampage through the underworld to stop him, interacting with each king to try and figure out "who done it?" In a way, and fighting the King to capstone off the season.

DBK-SQ-LBD

Azure-Ink-K-King.

It fulfills the three season pattern nicely.

So, what do you guys think?

[occasional-pyrrhon]

pyrrhon thoughts?

GUAH ok well here's a big post I made abt my biggest headcanons for him and on main @swadloom I tag him on posts and occasionally go on divine madness rants under the #guy tag but aaaaaah here's some more just for you 🤲

He 100% believes all the stuff about justice and heroism that he goes on about and all the crazyass stuff he pulls is justified in his mind for reaching that goal of becoming the most powerful protector of humanity

His eyes glow solid bright green if he's angry or out of it / distressed

I think he would do that thing tiktok boys do where they shush you and wag their finger and trace their jawline but instead of it being a flex on his looks maxing he's trying to channel physical damage to whoever he does it to

I wish him and Pit were a funny friend duo sooooo badly its unreal. Like the idea of him respecting this punching bag angel more than the gods is SUCH AN INSANE CHARACTER REVELATION that could inform SO MUCH about him then two second later he fucked up in space 4ever. Sad! Whatever imagine if chapter 17 opened up with Pit making his way through a big gauntlet of aurum ships then coming out the other end, meeting paths with Pyrrhon and hi-fiving midair. Then he zooms off and only a minute later it's all thrown away for power. Think aboutd it.

Because it's my current biggest fixation: Playing d&d with him would either be heaven or hell. He will come up with some shit the ppl making the rules never prepared for. He will take a random street beggar under his wing and give them a volatile ancient artifact. He will hype the shit out of anything anyone does. He will put his soul in a kua-toa and create a new whole ass god that he puts his soul in AGAIN so he can go party with Primus. He will poke the trap.

Part of an attempted fic I've been working on coming out in 2 million year. But I think he has mild weird psychic abilities that other gods don't have. One bit in there is him trying to learn how to gift prophetic powers but as goodwill apollo its weird and fucked up so that touching his gem just kinda traps you in his adhd mindhellscape for a bit and he doesn't fucking know how to turn it off 💔. Holding together the prophecies with sticks and stones like the spongebob puppet TV thing you know the one. Do I sound insane right now

Sometimes his use of third person upticks if he's trying to reassure himself or if he's less grounded. Which is. Most of the time really but it turns down in straightforward conversation and the like and could be every sentence if he's really out of it

That being said he would use the same dramatic mannerisms that he uses in the heat of battle for like. fortnite vc

He thinks spongebob is bad ass as hell. Chicken little too. And probably Bill and Ted and rainbow dash. And freddie benson. Just the most random ass guys that activate his godly protection complex. You won't be left to toil in the middle any more malcom .

Okay one fucked up one. uhh if/when he returns and gets tentatively accepted back into skyworld, he's paranoid and convinced that people are going to try to send him back to the aurum since he became one with them and in his own eyes can't go back to being who he was. He swings between desperation to return to them and desperation to never leave earth again. He keeps pretending to be confident and unbothered to at least hold on to that part of him, but when he messes up again, and proves he's just as worthless and idiotic as he used to be, he gets that feeling of the path he went down repeating until all that's left for him to do is break down and plead not to go back there, that he knows he deserves it but he'll do anything to make up for it and stay here on earth. Meanwhile none of the others would have a reason to do this, and they have no idea where this is all coming from... though maybe some of them have been there as well.

Gyuhh. Anyways. Once everyone becomes aware of the Problems ppl pitch in more than he expects, and Viridi begrudgingly creates some lil fireproof immortal friendguys, a cat and snake specifically, to be therapy animals for him. This serpentine creature is coiling around pyrrhons arm with nothing but a freak tube body and its force of will!!! And it's sticking its little tongue out awwwwww. I'm split between them having Egyptian deity names or like being the longest most insane gacha 7 star fusion type names that shorten down to like. tabby

I think he would really love insane shitty movies like the channel awesome movies or our drawings or ESPECIALLY the amazing bulk. I HATE DUST I DON'T WANT IT BUILDING UP IN MY HOME was a verbal stim for him at least at some point

His response to asking about his gender is like being a beacon of light concentrated into a form of sun flare and meteor fire all to serve justice through the realms. And like you'll have to roll with that because it's not like you can ask him what's in his pants. Because. I mean

[stormcrow513]

Disposing Of Baneful Material

Ok couple things first one I'm coming off a cold and my heads still a bit fuzzy so if anything is incoherent opps my bad,

second use of general you ahead so if you're not doing what I'm talking about them this is not aimed at you,

I am not looking for an argument here,

I'm writing my own post cause I didn't want to possibly start shit with someone on another persons post,

Ok so some of y'all might know my mama is on Tumblr now @silverphantom72 she's slowly learning the ropes and slowly learning to follow people and such,

She came up to me yesterday morning, about this post that scared the crap outta her, the op was asking how people get rid of used magic material, all fine till ma got to where one person said they dump baneful material at the gas station,

Ma works at a gas station has worked at a few, understandably this freaked her out,

I couldn't really reassure her given the more thought I've given it the more it's freaked me out, let me break down my problems with this,

I'm not a love and light do no harm type, cause that's not possible that's not the world we live in, someone is always going to get hurt, but I prefer to be a sniper over a bomber, I try always to do the least harm, and putting baneful shit in a volatile area is not the least harm,

Most people likely don't get just how dangerous gas stations are so let me explain, and by dangerous I'm not only talking robberys,

People are awful at gas stations, their pissed off, and they are never paying attention to what their doing,

When COVID first started it became clear to my ma and her manager that the higher ups weren't going to put screens across the registers the way they did in the main store for those cashiers, so they asked for permission and then rigged up one themselves, and people went ballistic over it, 'whats that here for?!' they'd demand, and as soon as the word COVID left ma and here coworkers lips the person would spit on the covering and slam out the door yelling about how they hoped the workers there would catch COVID,

A man not long ago demanded ma give him free gas and she was like I literally cannot do that he started coming over the register at her til another costumer (big guy) yelled at him to knock it the fuck off, ma worried for weeks that he'd come back with a gun,

Or as she worries every day that someone will be pissed enough to follow her home,

Speaking of guns there was the time a shit ton of cops surrounded a murder suspect right on the street in front of her station and she hit the deck as they all took aim at this guy,

Or

there was that time in her old gas station job where two guys got into a knife fight inside the station and she had to run out the side door,

The coworker who got hit by a truck (she lived and is mostly ok, last ma heard)

The amount of people who run over cones sectioning off a down pump then come running in to scream about the pump not working,

All the people who pull out with the pump still attached to their car

Ect.

Gas stations are highly volatile spaces putting baneful magic scraps into that is in my opinion asking to kill someone,

Now onto the more mundane side,

Do you know who collects that trash from the trash cans, the cashiers themselves, and at least where my ma works they don't have gloves, they have to pull those bags out bare handed and trag them to the nearby dumpster,

Often ma has to push bulging trash down into the bag, or because people empty their whole car into these trash cans, beer bottles, full bottles of water, full Starbucks coffees, she often has to pull some of that trash into another bag because she can't lift it out because the bags are too heavy, (ma's almost 70 btw)

If I put something into a bag then put it in there that bag WILL get ripped open and then people like ma WILL be touching it with their bare hands, meaning any poisonous to the touch herbs? congrats you just poisoned someone, glass shards/ mirror fragments? just shredded someone's hands, a poppet with needles in it? now there in a persons hand,

When I brought this to ma's attention she gasped and told me lots of kids tend to squish the top of the trash down when it's bulging up so they can shove their trash on top, that lots of people do,

so throwing anything poisonous or slicey in the trash is very fucking likly to hurt someone.

I can't tell y'all what to do, but maybe think twice on what you're doing, just like how people have brought up don't put salt on the ground because you're killing the environment, I'm speaking up for gas station workers who, trust me, do not want to be there,

[thenovelartist]

The Mystery Man - Ikemen Prince fanfiction

Blame @atelieredux for this story idea that somehow, despite me not being the biggest Gilbert fan, hooked me and refused to let go until I did something for it. Maybe I'm a sucker for single parent AUs and the opportunity of a kid finding their second "parent". (Eyes "Second Chances".) Yeah, definitely...

“My son wants one thing for his birthday. One!”

“And it’s the one thing you can’t get him?” her co-worker deadpanned.

“Yes!” Emma shouted, flinging her arms about. “He wants tickets to go see a filming of his favorite tv show ‘The Mystery Man’, and they’re sold out everywhere.”

“Ohhhh, yeah. I forgot your son likes that creepy show.”

Emma rolled her eyes, then took a step forward when she noticed that the food line she was standing in had moved up. “It’s… not your average children’s show, sure, I’ll give you that. But quality-wise, it’s fantastic in comparison. I’m not opposed to sitting down and watching this with him compared to some children’s programming.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s not.”

“The main guy looks every bit the James Bond villain, dressing in black with an eyepatch. My children run screaming from the room every time.”

“Your loss.”

This time, it was her coworker’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Next!”

Emma marched up to the food truck to place her order. It wasn’t common to see them out and about, but one happened to be at the park by the office building today, so she thought “why not?” After placing her order, she stepped off to the side to wait for her food.

“Watch it, kid!”

Turning around, she watched as some middle-aged man began chewing out some kids who looked to be in elementary school, maybe middle school. Their apologies could be heard loud and clear, but the man just wasn’t having it, his voice growing louder and louder by the second.

Even before she had her son, Emma knew she frequently stuck her nose into other people’s business, but this time, her mama bear instincts were just too strong to ignore the situation. Before she could think, she found herself storming over.

“Something the matter, sir?” she asked, putting on her best customer service smile as she placed herself in between the man and the two kids who looked to be on the verge of tears about now.

Just as he opened his mouth, the smell of alcohol hit her, and warning bells went off in the back of her mind. Someone was having it rough if they were drinking mid-day, but that also meant he was in a volatile state where the smallest thing could set him off.

“Stay out of it!”

Suddenly, he swung a hand out at her, one that she dodged only because of how unsteady he was. But that was a good excuse as any to make a swing of her own.

Her fist collided with his jaw, and the man stumbled back into the park fountain.

“Go go go,” she hissed at the kids, shooing them away from the situation.

Not needing to be told twice, the two kids took off at breakneck speed, sneakers slapping loud against the pavement as they disappeared.

“You bitch!”

The man tried to climb out of the fountain, but out of nowhere, a cane tapping against his chest sent the unsteady man straight back in with a splash.

“Now, now, that’s not very polite,” a smooth voice spoke. “You swung out at the lady first, and you have the audacity to say she’s in the wrong?”

With a growl, the drunkard tried to stand up again, but with a tap of the cane, her savior sent the man right back into the fountain.

“Forgive me.” Her savior soon turned towards her, allowing Emma to take in his fierce gaze that was only made more intimidating by his eyepatch. “Are you alright, my lady?”

It took Emma a moment to figure out who this man was, but it was unmistakable. After all, this was her son’s “hero”, Gilbert von Obsidian. “Yes,” she answered, rubbing the lingering sting away from her knuckles. “I’m fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Lifting his cane again, he tapped the end against the drunkard’s chest, preventing him from leaving the fountain once again as he collapsed with a splash. “That was quite a swing you’ve got on you. Color me impressed.”

Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Uh, thank you?”

He chuckled. “Well, your son surely must be thrilled to have such a fierce mother. I have to wonder if he’s as spicy as you. But that said—” With his cane, he tapped the cussing drunkard’s shoulder, preventing him from so much as getting to his knees now. “—you best be careful. Your sense of duty is admirable, but don’t you think it wise to keep your sense of justice under wraps for your son’s sake? What would he do if his precious mother ended up hurt because she was too selfless for her own good?”

Emma’s brow furrowed. How did he know she had a son? Was he listening to her conversation just now while waiting in line for the truck? She’d sworn she hadn’t seen him, but maybe she wasn’t paying close enough attention.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, giving her a smile that seemed friendly and calculating all at once. “I am ‘The Mystery Man’, after all. Maybe you should listen to your friend and treat me like the James Bond villain I am.”

With that, he once again tapped the drunkard’s shoulder, keeping him in the fountain and away from Emma. “Now, I’ll bet they’re about to call your name any second now. And entertaining this fool isn’t worth letting your food get cold.”

Words seemed unforthcoming, but she had enough good sense to show her appreciation to this… strange man. “Thank you. For your help.”

His smile seemed to cause his lone red eye to glow. “You’re quite welcome. It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Emma.”

“Order for Emma!”

At the shout, she whipped her head around towards the food truck, where her name had just been called. He really had heard everything, hadn’t he?

Though unsettled, Emma turned back to Gilbert. “Excuse me.”

And she scurried off, his gentle chuckle hitting her ears as she went.

Maybe her friend was right about the creepy thing.

* * *

“Emmaaaaa!”

With a chuckle, Emma turned towards Rio, the front deskman at the book publishing firm she was an editor at. “Hey, Rio. Have you been lonely?” she teased.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone!”

Her brows furrowed as she tilted her head. “Huh?”

“Huh?”

The duo blinked at each other for a second before Emma shook her head. “I’m not seeing anyone, Rio. What makes you say that?”

“But then…” Scowl on his face, he glanced towards the door before turning a concerned look back to her. “The guy who left this said you were his sweetheart of justice?” Fishing in a drawer, he pulled out a letter, one with her name written in an elegant script.

Curiously, she took it, flipping it over to reveal a wax seal with a tiger on it. One that looked a little familiar.

Wait…

“Did this man have an eyepatch and cane?”

“So you do know him?”

Dread welled up in her gut. This was the same wax seal Gilbert used on his tv show. How did he know where she worked? Was he stalking her? It had only been two days since they happened to cross paths, so how had he discovered so much about her so quickly? “Er… something like that.”

Rio’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, Emma, you know I’m always here for you, right?”

It was impossible to keep the sweet smile off her lips. “I know, Rio. You’ve been too kind to me.”

“You saved my life and got me this job. My thanks will never be enough,” he finished with a wink.

“You got this job on your own merits,” Emma countered.

“The other point still stands.”

Knowing this spiral wouldn’t stop, she simply shook her head. “Okay, okay. There’s no point in arguing with you, anyway.”

With a bright smile, Rio sat tall in his chair, chest puffed with pride. “So, if you need me to walk you home and clarify that you’re not available because you already have a man in your life, then I can do that, too.”

Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “It’s not fair to lie to them, is it?”

Rio sighed. “You’re too nice for your own good. Look, it’s not lying when you have little Cedric. But if they happen to mistake me for that ‘special man in your life’, then I’m not going to correct them.”

With an amused grin, she shook her head. Her son Cedric really was the only man in her life; after a sad parting with his father, he was all that remained. And she was determined to focus on being the best mother she could to him.

Looking down at the letter burning her hands, her curiosity was unable to be stopped any longer. If this was going to be a problem, she really should let Rio know, if only so he didn’t fuss over her for the next three months. So, if only to put his mind at ease, she popped open the seal of the envelope, taking out the letter only for two slips of paper to fall out and land on the front desk. Upon picking them up…

She froze. No way.

In her hand were two VIP passes to “The Mystery Man” show she had been so desperate to get her hands on.

“Wait, weren’t you looking all over for those?” Rio cried upon seeing what they were.

Numbly, Emma handed the two tickets over to Rio to examine as her gaze fell upon the neat script of the letter.

Ms. Emma,

I hope this letter finds you well. However, I’ll wager you don’t care much for small talk, so there’s no point in wasting your time. Instead, I’ll simply say you’re welcome for the tickets. I’m sure your son will have a happy birthday knowing his mother obtained his wish. Truly, what a sweet and doting mother you are.

As to how these tickets find themselves in your possession, it’s simple process of elimination, really. Your bag had a company logo on it. I had been in the park before you and watched you walk from the direction of the office buildings rather than from the parking garage, so with that, I made a simple deduction.

Lastly, I’ll insist you accept them, not that you can return them anyway as I’m not there to take them back. Furthermore, it would be a tragedy to simply throw them away. After all, your son wants these most of all gifts, correct?

I look forward to seeing you again and to meeting your son. If he’s anything like his spitfire of a mother, I’m sure it will be a joy to make his acquaintance.

Gilbert von Obsidian

Lips pursed, she squeezed the letter. That cocky sonova—

“Emma?”

Breaking out of her trance, Emma turned towards Rio. “Huh?”

“I said you were lucky to score those. But who was that guy who gave them to you?”

She opened her mouth, trying to find the answer as she took the two tickets back from Rio.

“A James Bond villain.” With that, she put the letter and tickets back in the envelope.

Well… villain or no, her son would surely be happy. And it’s not like anything could go wrong at a professional show, right?

Right?

* * *

Cedric was, to use his own words, super-duper excited.

Emma did her best to take as many pictures as she could of this event, capturing the unabashed joy on her son’s face.

Then came time where they could go backstage and have a meet-and-greet with the cast.

Cedric could have exploded with excitement, but Emma was filled with a certain amount of dread facing… well, her son’s hero.

And that dread doubled when Emma realized she’d caught said hero’s eye toe moment they stepped backstage.

She took a breath as they stood in line to do the meet-and-greet. They’d somehow ended up being the last in line, much to her son’s disappointment. But she was able to keep him busy by playing “I spy,” and considering they were backstage with a plethora of props around, there were plenty of things to spy.

When it was finally their turn, Cerdic was fidgeting with excitement that couldn’t be contained. Particularly when Gilbert gave him a smile and extended his hand. “Well, well, how wonderful to meet you.”

Cedric bounced up to Gilbert with all the energy of an active four-year-old. “Hi! You’re my hero!”

Gilbert chuckled. “Your hero, huh? You know who is a hero, too?”

His eye widened. “Who?”

“Your mom.” Gilbert glanced up at Emma, giving her a smile that made her a little uncomfortable, if she were honest. Though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. “I got to meet her once, and I must say, she’s very brave. You must be very proud of her.”

Cedric looked back to Emma, his eyes glowing with love and admiration. “She’s the best.”

Gilbert chuckled, a soft, gentle chuckle that didn’t appear to have any other meaning behind it than true mirth. “I’m very glad to hear it. Tell me, what’s your name?”

“Cedric!”

“That’s a very cool name.”

And just like that, they chatted for a bit. And then a bit more. That’s when Emma started to realize that Gilbert hadn’t done this for any other child, only hers. Which made her slightly suspicious. Emma got the impression that there was much more to Gilbert von Obsidian than what met the eye. He produced and starred in a children’s show, and clearly, he enjoyed being around the children that had VIP passes to meet him. But why did she get the impression that there was something… strange underneath that, oddly, didn’t frighten her. And why was she not concerned that her son was right there, chatting with this man. Idolizing him, even. And yet, she felt secure enough with that.

She best keep her guard up.

“Emma, you should come in for this picture, too.”

Gilbert’s words brought her fully back to reality. “Oh, sure.”

After the photographer took their picture, Gilbert knelt down to Cedric’s level. “It was nice meeting you. It would be cool if we could meet again.”

Cedric looked up at his mom. “Yeah! Can I?”

That dread was back as Gilbert looked over to her. “I can organize it quite easily.”

“No,” she quickly insisted. “I can’t accept your generosity any more than I have.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“No, really. I thank you for the tickets tonight, but I cannot accept any more.”

He hummed, his red eye sparkling mischievously. “Well, that’s a shame. I wonder if I’ll have to simply… forget an invitation at your work again.”

Emma fixed him with the best glare she could while still smiling.

“Oh, no,” he purred. “That’s a scary look.”

And yet, Gilbert seemed to be more amused than intimidated.

“Then, I’ll concede,” he acquiesced. “For now. Cedric, it was wonderful meeting you, but I believe it’s time for you and your mom to go back home for the night.”

“Awww.”

Yet, Cedric said his good byes and got in one hug before Emma guided him out of the studio.

“Did we have fun today?” she asked as they marched back to their car.

“Yeah! It was so cool!”

“I’m very glad.”

And as much as she was loathe to admit, she was very thankful to a very odd eyepatch villain for being the hero of her son’s day.

[rolloollor]

Is it ok to ask a bit more of your loved ships in bio. I'd like to see what you say about Idoazu Jack/Leovil

Sure! I'm always down to ramble.

idoazu

This was my main ship before mallerollo popped up. Naturally, I have the most to say about them.

I started to love idoazu when I got to Azul's overblot. I assumed Jade and Floyd would fuck off when Azul was in trouble, but they stayed! I was like, "Oh my god, they love him..." or at least care about him. I was legitimately moved since I was sure they'd dip. I've read people comment on their relationship and that it's purely transactional. That the second Azul falters, the tweels will give him the boot or eat him alive or whatever. Certainly Azul seems to believe this. They say something similar to Jamil in book 4, but it's important to remember that characters can lie and they can lie to themselves. They had a chance to drop him with the overblot and they didn't. Actions speak louder than words, right, so I think it's more likely that they believe it's only transactional, but they do genuinely like each other.

Though this like doesn't mean that the tweels treat Azul all that nice... they fucked up his restaurant during book 6 for funsies. Jade is a huge weirdo and I bet he loves seeing Azul frustrated or pissed off. I love Jade so much... I'm not as big on Floyd, but he can be surprisingly normal when he wants to be. It is nice that Azul has been able to have events with both of his boyfriends and even one with Idia without the eels if you're into that.

I like how close they are and I like how they respect each other. They all know each other's strengths and they've been together for a while. To go on this go-on-land venture together I think is significant. The tweels were the first to 'support' Azul, even if it was mainly to have fun, and I'm sure Azul does feel a bit of fondness for them, even if he says it's all business. I also like how Azul is a bit afraid of them, but he knows them well enough to be able to make his schemes appealing to them. There's this ever-present atmosphere of danger. Both eels love to eat octopus, after all. They're predators and Azul has this balancing act he had to perform, but even if he slipped and they usurped his position, I think they'd keep him around anyway. Floyd uses Azul's name, after all, so he's on the same level as Jade.

I'm not that interested in tweelcest, though. I never got the appeal of twincest. They look the same... I like when there's some kind of contrast.

leovil

The main thing that jumps out at me is how well they know each other and how they respect the other. Leona picked Vil for his Tamashina event and Playful Land showed more of the way they understand each other. They know their weaknesses, too. Their relationship would be complicated and maybe volatile at times, but I think they could make it work if they wanted to. It's probably Leona who'd hold it back. I feel like Vil could encourage him to try harder, but it could easily cross into being really irritating for Leona. Maybe Leona could get Vil to chill out a little bit, who knows. The appeal for me, aside from the visual contrast, is that it's a relationship of equals.

jackvil is just really cute. They're both very driven, and they already jog together in the mornings... it could easily develop from there. There's something just so charming about this giga celebrity getting together with a random guy he knew briefly as a child. It's cute. I think Jack would be good for Vil, too, since he'd be extremely loyal and supportive. He'd also make a good househusband. I don't have as much like 'backing' for this one, it's simple and cute. Plus I'm sure Vil does have a soft spot for him. The story about them making snow stuff together was really charming.

Also I dabbled in rookvil for a while, but it's like... too easy? Like things are established already. The climax of the love story happened already, if you feel me? I also don't like Rook's home screen line from the Ghost Marriage event where he says he's fickle... It worries me. I'm not against the pair, it just doesn't intrigue me, I guess.

[clairesgaragezine]

CGZ Featured Artist: MJ (Molly Jean)

May 25, 2023

Everyone, I am SO excited!! Please welcome our very first featured artist: MJ, stands for Molly Jean, female, 38 years old in Kansas City, Missouri. No formal art education outside of the 7 art classes she took in highschool. She took two semesters of theater in community college, "that counts for something" she says. She used to have a website but hasn't updated in years, you can go ahead and find her on Instagram @mollyjean.art  or over on her Tumblr which is a mish mash of fan girl stuff and whatever else she feels like @yourcoolauntie (for her avatar of Aunt Gayle from Bob's Burgers)

Leviathan, 2012 (Acrylic on canvas, 16x20in)

CGZ: When did you start painting? What’s your earliest memory of painting or of creating art? 

MJ: I remember making a little pinch pot in Kindergarten. In first grade we made robots out of different materials, they were flat on paper, it was mixed medium. I used tinfoil and some other stuff. It got hung up at the school district's main office, they tracked me down and gave it back to me in highschool! 

CGZ: And where is the robot now?

MJ: I don't know where the robot is, my mom may have it in a box but it may have gotten lost.

Object II, 2020 (Acrylic on canvas, 30x40 in)

CGZ: Has your birthplace or your family background influenced your approach to creating art? 

MJ: I wish I had an answer about my culture or my family heritage, but I don't. My dad's side is Irish & English, his family came over well over a hundred years ago. My mom is half Croatian but her grandparents were old by the time she was born, and they all assimilated very thoroughly, so I know little of Slavic culture. So birthplace and heritage…the isolating suburbs of the southern midwest. 

Ultimately art has been my constant therapy, so my approach is, I have to do it. Let me try not to trauma dump too much. I grew up in a very dysfunctional home. My mom was the gentler one, my dad was scary. But my folks would take my siblings and I out to museums and around the city to expose us to a bigger world outside our suburb. We grew up poorer than we should have been because my dad was a high functioning addict, with an okay job with the city, but money went to drugs and lawyers. So I'm certain being aware early on of how class works in America shaped me as well. My mom and dad were too different from one another but they both appreciated the world, usually in a very critical and very negative way. My father, troubled, but very smart, always played music, records, he loved movies and anything avant garde and fringe. He had no boundaries and it was a volatile home. So, in a house where one parent was always afraid to speak up because her spouse would explode in a rage and the other never not talking about his every thought and feeling…I never learned to properly communicate mine. So…art. My folks are still alive…I realize I wrote this like they're dead.

CGZ: Who are your biggest artistic influences? 

MJ: The dadaists, the surrealists, abstract expressionists, the early abstract guys like Wassily Kandinsky. We watched a documentary in Jr. high about Keith Haring that stuck with me. That's a big leap from Picasso to Haring but this is kinda off the top of my head, I never took any art history courses.

CGZ: How has your art practice changed over time? 

MJ: I used to be uncomfortable calling myself an artist, in my early 20s I didn't think I'd earned it because I hadn't sold anything yet. That was real dumb. If you make something that serves absolutely no function other than you created it and now it exists and now it's in the world to be debated, analyzed or just looked at and displayed, congratulations you made an art. That aligns with the old adage of Art for art's sake.

CGZ: What do you like best about your work? What makes you happy when you’re creating?

MJ: I don't think I have a best liked…but I'm generally pleased if I can come close to what I had in my mind before I started.

Labyrinth, 2022 (Acrylic on canvas, 16x20 in)

CGZ: I adored your 2023 International Women’s Day post (self-portraits in a candlelit bath with body-affirming/life-affirming messages). Is there a shared meaning or messaging across your whole art practice? What differs for you between your abstract paintings and your photography projects?

MJ: Thank you so much for saying that. Also, great question. This is actually something I've thought about because I'm scared. It's been years since I've displayed anything and I'm worried if I approach a gallery they will ask me this and I will squeak out a bullshit answer like, let the art speak for itself. I think if there is a thread between all my work, paint, mixed media, photography it's about discovery and exploration, acceptance. I'm a traumatized, depressed, queer so that's easy, right? Looking at the parts of ourselves we'd rather keep hidden because of shame or pain, that we all have a part of ourselves we must excavate. Even folks with happy childhoods. Just don't lose yourself in the ditch in the process.  …I'm not sure any of that made sense.

CGZ: What are some of the most memorable responses you’ve received about your work? 

MJ: About a decade or so ago a friend made a little film about this shadowbox project I was doing. It was an artist showcase. I was in the film community as a script supervisor…so that's how most knew me. I didn't talk about my art. I can't watch it now because I cringe…but after the viewing, a DP came up to me and he said, "I didn't know you were interesting." Weird backhanded compliment.

Another standout is walking into a pop up gallery I was showing at and meeting a jewelry designer there and she said, "You must be MJ, you look like your art." That was very affirming.

CGZ: What are the “little things” that you notice but no one else does that inspire your work? 

MJ: A sunrise, the way light simmers and breaks apart when it shines through a tree canopy. I think people see that stuff, I don't want to pretend I have some profound insight on life that others don't. I suppose it's about priorities and what we choose to register and spend our time on. I have no children or a partner, I'm my own distraction and obstacle. I do prioritize stillness.

CGZ: What are your favorite mediums to create in? Are there any “experimental” or new-to-you mediums that you’re interested in exploring?

MJ:  Acrylic is my main bag. I'd love to work with oils. Not very exciting I know. Honestly, I have ideas for sculptures but have no idea where to begin.

CGZ: What is your favorite time of day to create? What’s your “just right” setting? Do you have a favorite drink or mood-setting music? A lucky trinket you keep nearby?

MJ: Some might not say I'm not a true artist because I have a day job and am not starving for my art…but that's the dream right, to be able to eat and shelter yourself and do only art. So, usually midday on a day off. I might smoke some weed, I will definitely be listening to music, through my stereo setup or my headphones. 

CGZ: Describe what it feels like when you know a piece is finished. What makes you sit back and go “That’s done.”

MJ: I never have that feeling of "done", it's usually, I have exhausted all effort and I am either satisfied or I'm not. I'm guilty of painting over works. But I have a few pieces I think I'm completely satisfied with. The ones pictured are a few of those.

CGZ: Where do you go for inspiration? What helps refill the well?

MJ: Listening to other artists, and other people speak on their work. Moonage Daydream, the David Bowie documentary I watched the other night for example. I recently watched a piece on Roberta Flack. Music is a big motivator. I live about 10 miles from The Nelson Atkins Museum of art, so going and looking at the Marcel Duchamp or the Van Gogh's helps too.

CGZ: Do you have a favorite art museum? When you go there, where do you beeline to first?

MJ: See previous. Ha.

CGZ: What’s the weirdest or best book you’ve read recently?

MJ: I'm shit at getting around to finishing a book. I have Blood, Sweat and Chrome: The Wild and True Story of Mad Max Fury Road next to my bed. Spine not cracked. 

CGZ: As the kids say: “I’m in my ___ era.” What era are you in? 

MJ: Hermit. My fingernails haven't started to curl yet so there is still hope.

As Above So Below, 2020 (Acrylic on canvas, 16x20 in)

CGZ: What song has been stuck in your head lately? 

MJ: Recently, On My Own from Les Mis. The hermit bit aside, I did just go catch the tour that came through town. So…

CGZ: What keeps you going? How do you overcome creative blocks?

MJ: I don't have creative blocks per se. They can happen but mostly I have hurdles. I let my brother move into the room I was using as my studio…so, I haven't been painting as much. But I have to always be creating something. As a kid before I painted I played piano, then got into theater, acting, modeling for a couple years. I once had a webshow with a best friend where we reviewed TV shows and recreated the episode using Barbie dolls. I was 27. Nowadays I write or play with photography, if I can't paint. Recently, some poetry, and about 100,000 words worth of fan fiction. A girl has gotta let it out somehow, no shame.

CGZ: What’s the best piece of artist/creator advice you’ve heard?

MJ: I'm sure I've heard plenty but my memory is crap, so I have no quotes to give you right now. I think in highschool, when my teacher came up over my shoulder and pointed at the heavy outline in my still life (that she'd tried to get me to stop doing) and said, "You just can't help yourself can you? That's just how you paint." Taught me something. We can be taught and told and can imitate and follow instructions and still reveal ourselves through a simple unconscious stroke.

CGZ: Where do you hope to be in five years? Ten? (Wrong answers only.)

MJ: I can't even provide a wrong answer. These kinds of questions addle my sick brain.

CGZ: A parting quote for our readers? (I adored, “I can't wait until I'm dead and all my art is at a thrift store or left beside a dumpster.”)

MJ: I'm glad you appreciated that. I do love the MOBA, museumofbadart.org, and would feel no shame being included there, they do important work, I do believe that.

I feel like I've said too much. I was mentally smoking a cigarette this whole time. So I'm stomping it out now. Just imagine me staring into your eyes like performance artist Marina Abramovic and come up with something.

This was really fun and terrifying by the way. Thanks so much Claire 🖤

Communication, 2020 (Acrylic and oil on canvas, 18x24 in)

Hellhound, 2012 (Acrylic on canvas, 16x20 in)

[cherrydott]

Long winded mad ducktor post

Or my version anyway

Yelling in an empty auditorium abt this. FIRST one of the core things about MD for me is that at his core, his purpose is to protect Gyro. No matter how irrationally or dangerously he chooses to do so. His origin is literally going to get back at scrooge for not paying gyro enough for his services. There is nothing in MD that wasn't already present in Gyro, albeit greatly exaggerated in his case. My personal view on most jekyll and hyde situations is that there isn't an Evil half, just a half comprised of everything someone tries or can't help but to suppress, like standing up for themselves. MD in this case is a defense system.

Dt17 Gyro already comes gift-wrapped with a bunch of angst and insecurities from his past that y'all already know about. I trust that anyone that's gotten this far has watched astro boyd at least 7 times, so I don't need to go into it. We can throw worrying about Gizmoduck in there too (both for Fentons safety and the overall success of his invention). You've also got the spear. Why not something for both the duck twins? Duck avenger is a large part of this AU, Gyro supplying his gadgets and various intel on his missions like your "guy in the chair" trope.

While PK is on missions, often Gyro is holed up in the bins security room with a live feed from his suit, contact lense cameras and earpieces etc. Eventually Donald gets into the habit of disabling his feed/communication when things get nasty in the field, out of embarrassment or not wanting to make Gyro worried about him.

To no ones surprise, sitting in a room of static while god knows what happens is a hundred times worse for him. Mad Ducktor is born from helplessness.

Magic does a great job exaggerating things, desires or feelings, and someone who's not level headed should not go near powerful magic artifacts no matter what. [Enter the DeSpell amulet]

It starts off more as a casual project at the lab too get more of an understanding on the amulet. Not necessarily how to use it or some new invention with it, just a study so they're less in the dark. It doesn't take long for a little obsession to creep up and for Gyro to insist on taking this project solo. Long term exposure to it does not so great things to him, leading up to a big outburst in the lab where some people get hurt. Some windows break, and everyone barely makes it up the emergency stairs before the lab floods. Coincidentally, Gyro's magic signature is pink :)

MD becomes Gyro's magical defense protocol that mainly comes out when he becomes extremely emotionally distressed. It gets bad enough that the amulet doesn't even need to be present.

I don't have specifics, but his main weapon is inspired by this belt from the comics.

Amulet as the buckle/power source and two artificial ones on the gloves, smaller and mostly for control/amplification and if we're completely honest, aesthetics. From the accident at the lab it becomes clear that either of them are not great at controlling the amulet at all, it's volatile and dangerous in their hands. MD needs and invented the gloves and belt to be able to direct it. Even with it, if he's successfully taunted enough during a fight, the magic quickly gets unstable as he'd get angrier.

He sees the duck avenger as his top threat, the thing first on the list that disturbs Gyros peace. The one thing stopping him from finding Akita and ripping him to shreds is the fact that Gyro knows he's in prison and isn't a top priority.

His hairstyle is reminiscent of Scrooge and Fenton 100% on purpose. They're important people in Gyro's life and md. Is. Emotional. Sentimental even, though he'd never admit that. Gyro keeps his emotions on lockdown, and what he suppresses comes out in MD in one form or another, in this case appearance. I would argue that the first time Scrooge or Donald met Gyro, he had circular frames. As they inhabit the same body, the trickiest thing about fighting him is well. not doing that, attempting capture instead or at least saying the right things to get gyro back in the pilots seat. He chose circular shades on purpose to be able to manipulate PK further, as well as being a little symbol of his past and how he wants to defend his younger self.

He's not evil, just wildly misunderstood

[carcinogeneticisst]

Greywaren is so much to contain in my mind. It was written in such an interesting way from odd points of view that came together to be really good. I will definitely relisten to the audiobook to take it all in, but these are the initial things that stuck out to me:

A lot of Ronan’s storyline was him being a silent observer and contemplating the people closest to him; whitnessing how they act when he’s not around. That was never how I saw this book going. Ronan was stuck but he was learning some vital things, and just the inventiveness in Maggie’s writing amazes me.

Farooq Lane’s whole storyline, I always love when Maggie pushes buttoned-up characters till they’re “burning”. It used to be a description of Gansey, I love the callback. Also there’s a definite parallel story between her & Nathan and The Grayman & his brother. They kill eachother in similar ways in a final shoot out.

Farooq-Lane and Hennessey’s volatile (homoerotic) relationship to each other. Hennessey painting Farooq Lane filled with all the fire and lust she felt for her. The kiss and the fact that she travels with Hennessey still 4 years later.

Declan shooting up Boudicca’s fairy market was so satisfying. Like this guy snapped and it was so good.

The evening Ronan whitnessed between Jordan and Declan. It was so soft. The moment that it was clear they weren’t going out, and Declan takes is place on Jordan’s couch instead. It melted my heart.

Declan yanking away Matthew’s sweet metal and not waking Matthew up for days shook me up. I know Declan was trying to be practical but damn. But that led to Matthew absolutely decking Declan, so hard Declan and his coffee mug falls to the floor. I was waiting for Matthew’s breaking point too, it was so good.

Mór’s a sociopath? And she was the one that wanted to escalate things? Those flashbacks where quite satisfying, there has been so much mystery shrouding what happened to Neil and Mór for so long.

Not in a million years did I think that Ronan is one of the beings from the other side. A being that may have begged dreamers to become human many many times. A being that could have easily been brought into this world as something else like Lindenmir or Cabeswater. Also there are entities that feel differently about our plain, like Greywaren adored it and the Lace loaths it. Fascinating concept. It makes me wonder about Ronan’s funeral dream, was that them? Do beings like Greywaren have a world or do they just float in the blackness?

Adam’s monologue acknowledging how he’s been lying at college and how he doesn’t love it as much as he thought was heartbreaking but fascinating. By making Adam unaware of Ronan’s presence, Maggie found the perfect way for these two emotionally constipated guys to communicate. Also, when they finally met in the subconscious void was so perfect. Like, their physical forms weren’t even there and Maggie made it so romantic.

Matthew with Bryde was just hilarious. Also without his mystique Bryde’s just a sad man. That was a weird turn of events, I thought he’d be the main evil. And then Bryde becomes a visionary? Led there by the voice Matthew heard when he walked into Ronan’s security system at the Barns? That was a big lore drop out of nowhere Maggie!

I got spoiled that Gansey would be back and at every turn I was expecting him to turn up to help somehow. He was fantastic in the epilogue but I’d imagined more.

As and audiobook listener, Ronan’s panic attack was absolutely haunting. Hearing the same phrase over and over almost transported you to Ronan’s state of mind.

[saberamane]

 So I’ve been grinding Dying Light and this idea popped into my head while doing the mindless Stuffed Turtle grind but…

The main character of Dying Light, Crane, is voiced by Roger Craig Smith (Ezio) so how about a zombie apocalypse(ish) AU where Ezio is helidropped into a quarantine city where most of the population is now zombies?

His mission is to find a certain person only known as Cypher who is said to have the key to the cure of this supposed virus.

The people he’s working for do not know what Cypher looks like, only that he’s the leader of the band of survivors trying to just live in the city-infested hellhole and scouring enough food, water, and antizin for everyone.

So Ezio has to (1) get the survivors and Cypher to trust him and (2) find the supposed ‘key’ (might be a hard drive, might even be an actual vial, who knows).

When he gets there, he gets both attacked by members of a very hostile gang, accidentally gets a hoard to swarm them, and gets saved by two runners.

One of them had to get his hand cut off so he wouldn’t be infected.

So now Ezio has to work to get their trust harder as he just accidentally maimed one of their best runners.

Unorganized ideas:

His handler for the company he works for is Lucy and we’ll keep it a secret until maybe towards the midpoint or end but Ezio is actually working for Abstergo (and he doesn’t know how shitty Abstergo truly is)

Ezio’s main contact for the survivors (who are holed up in a place called the ‘Tower’) is Malik, the runner who had saved him at the cost of his arm. He’s a bit hard to please but Ezio would see how much he cares for his people.

The leader of their survivors in the Tower has the codename Cypher but the survivors rarely use the name.

Ezio believes that Cypher is a man named Altaïr who everyone praises. He’s the one calling the shots as far as Ezio knows.

There’s a doctor by the name of Desmond as well who gives out the antizin shots and can also parkour like the best of them. Everyone in the Tower loves him and Malik always feels like he’s just a hair away from having an aneurysm every time Desmond leaves the Tower (usually by asking Ezio for a ‘favor’)

Yes. It’s a switcheroo and Desmond is the real Cypher while Altaïr (and Malik in some cases) is a deliberate red herring to protect Desmond from Abstergo because Desmond doesn’t have the cure. He has, however, a flash drive that his father gave him before he succumbed to the virus which has all the studies, documents, and evidence that point that the virus had been a WMD project of Abstergo and they were planning to send it out in the world but the government (pushed by Abstergo) were jamming all of their ways to send it.

==========================

Additions by SaberAmane:

So! First things first. I played the hell out of Dying Light about 2 or 3 years ago?? And I am ashamed to say…I didn’t know Crane was also Ezio. And seeing as my main draw to both characters were their voices…how did I not notice?! (I’m even more ashamed when I looked him up and saw he also voices Chris Redfield from Resident Evil, Shinji Hirako from Bleach (which I had a massive voice fetish for in high school…), and Deidara from Naruto (a favorite character).

Long story short, this guy’s voice has basically picked my favorite characters for me for YEARS and I never noticed they were the same…(too bad this guy is 20 years older than me is all I’m saying…)

With that in mind, let’s begin. (Feel free to laugh at my cluelessness)

It’s Malik and a man named Rauf who save Ezio. Malik has his hand removed because he was bitten, which means he can’t really go far from the tower anymore once he’s healed, his parkour is limited by the missing hand. Which means Malik’s younger brother, Kadar, takes his place as a runner and Malik helps more inside the base. 

Malik, of course, is not happy about Kadar being outside with the zombies, especially with new, ‘volatile’ variants coming out now. The most dangerous ones only come out at night, but there are ones that come out during the day too which are also very dangerous to encounter. There’s rumors of one that spits acid being around…

Malik ends up helping Desmond with first aid stuff, keeping track of supplies which include food, water, weapons, and others. Helps Altair with more ‘civil’ problems amongst the survivors. (All in all, becomes the resident mother hen. Who’s always angry. And may or may not stab you for your stupidity…)

Ezio does his best to try and make better relations with the tower group. He offers to help Desmond get supplies they need, especially seeing as they now need more stuff for Malik’s missing hand. (Strangely this makes people suspicious of Ezio for offering to help their ‘doctor’.)

With his limited help to Desmond, Ezio tries other area’s. Like running across the city for people to retrieve sentimental things from their homes they were unable to take with them at first, looking for lost people, helping set up ‘safe zones’ for runners caught out at night, and overall clearing out the area to keep it safe.

When he finally meets Altair, he can’t help but notice the resemblance to Desmond… Could they be brothers? They look nearly identical, but how they hold themselves changes their appearance drastically. Desmond is more open and friendly outwardly, while Altair seems cold and unyielding. (Ezio sees how Altair is with the children in the tower, so he can’t be too harsh.)

The first time Ezio hears someone call Altair the ‘Cypher’, he thinks he just might have found his target, and so quickly! After all, they said the one known as ‘Cypher’ was the leader of the group living in the Tower, and everyone defers to Altair (and sometimes Malik), so Ezio decides to focus his attentions on Altair. Getting on his good side, trying to gain his trust even harder, pushing for more ‘jobs’ to do and ways to help people.

Eventually Ezio is asked to help with clearing out a nest that has popped up way too close to the Tower. The ones in on the meeting are Altair (of course), Malik (who has maps of the area and coordinated with the runners patrolling the area for the known info) Desmond (to have an idea of the mission and what he might need to prepare in case things go wrong??) Rauf and Kadar, who are two of the runners familiar with the area, and of course Ezio.

And all in all, it’s a simple enough plan, they have plenty of homemade explosives and there seems to be only one way into the nest. And during the day, the volatiles are usually lethargic and slow to notice people. So they plan to sneak in, place explosives around and set them off to kill the volatiles, and trap whatever doesn’t die inside.

It goes great, until Kadar screams over the radio...

Ezio performs a daring rescue, able to kill of the volatiles in his way and get Kadar safely outside into the sun. But he’s in rough shape. He has a gut wound, and obvious bites. And he’s losing a lot of blood. Ezio gets the kid back to the Tower as fast as possible, Desmond and Altair already there to begin trying to save him...

Rauf is nowhere to be found. He’s not answering his radio, he never left the nest, and Ezio didn’t see him when he ran for Kadar.

After hours of trying to save Kadar, Desmond finally says he’s stabilizing. The antizin is keeping the change at bay, and the gut wound was cleaned and stitched. They just had to hope infection didn’t set in. They didn’t have any antibiotics. Malik is, understandably, devastated.

That night, Ezio goes to leave the Tower to check in with Abstergo, to ask for a drop with antibiotics and other med supplies. Kadar wasn’t as experienced as the other runners, despite his parkour being among the best. He was only there because Ezio had gotten his brother injured to the point he couldn’t continue to be a runner. This was Ezio’s fault.

But just as he gets far enough away from the Tower to feel safe to call Abstergo, he sees Desmond. Sneaking away from the tower. Ezio follows him for a while, and as they’re reaching the worst part of the city, where runners have all but been forbidden to go, Ezio stops Desmond. “Where are you going?”

The answer is simple. This part of town is the worst because it’s where the main outbreak happened. The hospital is there. The medical supplies to help Kadar are there. Desmond can’t let Kadar die, it’d destroy Malik, and Altair. And everyone else in the Tower, for Kadar is well loved by everyone. And Desmond is good enough to be able to risk entering this forbidden zone and have a chance of leaving it alive.

Ezio goes with. To help Desmond. To help Kadar. Not because he is trying to get close to Altair, to find this ‘Cypher’, but because it’s the right thing to do. These are just people trying to live in a city that has been taken form them, through means not their own doing.

...And what were the chances Abstergo would lend aid? Ezio had no proof Altair was the ‘Cypher’ they looked for.

So Ezio and Desmond infiltrate, dodging the hoards of zombies and the more lucid, more dangerous volatile’s. They get into the hospital unnoticed, and thankfully, there’s no volatiles in the hospital itself, though there are zombies to deal with, the slow walkers and more nimble runners. But they’re easy enough to deal with.

Finding the supplies though? Everything is empty. The cases and packaging are there, but no actual useful supplies.

And the Abstergo logo is everywhere.

=============

Unorganized thoughts:

Desmond wears the USB with the info on as a necklace. No one but Altair and Malik know the ‘pendent’ of his necklace is a USB.

Altair and Malik are a couple. Everyone knows, despite their often volatile relationship. (Ezio finds out by walking in on a...private...moment...)

The medical supplies are eventually found, and Kadar lives. All the supplies had been moved to a ‘clinic’ that turns out was doing testing on the zombies and the virus itself.

Ezio eventually learns about Abstergo’s true reasoning behind wanting the data. They made the virus, and the city was their testing ground. Things went sideways when their plans were found out and the virus was unleashed on the whole population instead of a controlled group. Desmond’s father had gathered the data to expose Abstergo before he was purposefully infected. Desmond had to kill him after he turned.

What happened to Rauf? No one knows...

After learning of Abstergo’s true plans and hand in all this, he confesses to Altair, Malik and Desmond his true purpose for being there. And his decision to help them get the information out at whatever cost, to stop Abstergo.

Shaun and Becca had, in the background, been quietly fixing a strategic few electrical towers, buffing them up to try and clear the jamming Abstergo had on the city. 

The other survivors in the city? Abstergo mercenaries. Paid to find the ‘Cypher’ and get the data. Even if it meant killing the whole populace of the ‘Tower’ to do so.

Ezio and Desmond end up getting close and falling into a very serious, nauseatingly romantic courtship. Or as romantic as one can have in a zombie infested city...

In the end, they are able to get past Abstergo’s jamming and let the world know people are still in the city, and Abstergo is the cause of the outbreak. Happy ending for everyone??

[pencilofawesomeness]

Ft x TW: NRC boys' type of fairy tail magic

Ohohoho what a can of worms to open! I have considered the FT in TW au far more than the TW in FT au, but this changes now lol.

Obviously both sources are fairly soft with their magic, but it's true that FT specializes far more, either by choice or by affinity. Soooo time to spitball around a bit. (As I try really hard not to get too deep into backstories and make this more complicated than it has to be.)

Riddle: Some sort of nullification/wave magic—essentially like his signature spell. Riddle probably tries to be an all-around mage nonetheless, but it comes back around to nullification nonetheless.

Trey: Enchantment. He'll claim up and down that it's just minor tricks and little buffs, but this dude can probably rewrite a human being if he wants to. Though he would be fantastic support. Full mom mode, for sure.

Deuce: Full Counter. Yes I am aware this is not an explicit Fairy Tail magic. But I call him my Full Counter child way too often for me to get it out of my head.

Ace: How far he goes with it is up for debate, but card magic. It starts with some simple tricks, and then his Quick Learning kicks in and Ace can do a variety of things given he has access to the card for it.

Cater: Solid script magic. Maybe some other script magic too, though Cater would downplay how much he could do with it, but dude has a way with words alright.

Leona: He would be the type to know a variety of magic, enough to keep people guessing about his limits, but his main developed magic would be crush magic, much to the consternation of everyone. (Himself included sometimes.)

Ruggie: He could totally have something funky like Figure Eyes or some sort of straight forward puppeteer magic, but I think his overall magic would be speed. Ruggie go noom.

Jack: Transformation magic, so he can turn into a wolf and whatever other animal he desires. Not necessarily seith magic, but I do think he would focus on animals because he's just like that.

Azul: Dude would totally be a celestial spirit mage. It's all about collecting minions and getting them to do the heavy lifting, after all. That said he's definitely a Contract Guy so he would be fair about things. (And he would get heckled by the spirits sometimes too; a true give and take relationship right there.)

Jade: Telepathy magic that is definitely just used for good ol consensual communication. Yep. Not like Jade can eavesdrop on people's minds or anything. :)

Floyd: Reflector magic of some sort. Can't hit him because your magic goes wonky. Oh no, you gotta fist fight instead. What a nightmare. (For you.)

Kalim: I honestly can't decide if he'll be a water mage, because of his UM, or if he'll do something completely left-field, like dancer magic, because he is a fun guy and a good bean like that.

Jamil: He would certainly be a jack-of-all-trades type, but mostly an air/wind mage. Within that sphere, Jamil has a lot going on: healing magic, some purification, transportation, ripping the air out of your lungs, enhanced hearing, invisibility—all the useful stuff. He probably knows some charm magic on the side, too, but that's a surprise tool for later.

Vil: Poison magic because I think it would be hilarious. He's equally very proud of his very potent poison and also distressed because it's such a volatile magic and everyone looks at him *like that.* Vil would be great at making elixirs and antidotes too though.

Rook: If anyone would have some sort of take-over magic, it would be Rook. It's the ultimate appreciation of life if you ask him—as well as the ultimate hunt. He would probably deal mostly with beasts, but with just enough other types of transformations that it makes people wonder. How exactly Rook acquires these take-overs is up to the imagination.

Epel: Make-magic. I'm not 100% sure on the type—I think some sort of glass/crystal, maybe—but his amazing carving skills definitely strike me as good make-magic material. Plus he's a creative little fella that would definitely whack people with a comically large hammer given the chance.

Idia: He'd be the guy to naturally develop seith magic against his explicit will, but that's okay because he never really uses it. (Except, perhaps, for Ortho...) Idia would focus on magic tech and developing items, but if his extremely sentient constructs happen to house some souls because he's a bleeding heart after all, then nobody really has to know.

Ortho: Archive magic. Because it's the internet. Tbh I don't really get archive magic in the context of FT's world all that well, but nonetheless, I think Ortho would be able to do it. It's all about running analysis and being the bestest support. (That said, Ortho would probably be casually good at some sort of light/energy magic on the side; for the tactical nuke.) Provided Ortho is not, you know, a soul in a construct.

Malleus: He's gotta be a dragon slayer. Them's the facts. That said, I am somewhat undecided on the type. I lean towards lightning, because the lightning motif is pretty prevalent, but Malleus is also very fond of his fire breath. A green fire dragon slayer, perhaps? Or he would be something super Extra and Edgy, like "tempest dragon slayer" or something, that is mad OP and can do large scale atmospheric stuff and weather. Dude's a beast, after all.

Lilia: Something spatial focused—like teleporting or territory. Well, he would probably use it mostly for teleporting but he can actually do some super insane stuff if things get serious.

Silver: Like his dad, he's also a spatial mage, but for requip magic. Silver would totally play the Erza-card and focus on weapons and armor and such.

Sebek: He would have the type of sound magic that makes your eardrums burst, and Sebek would be sooo effective with it. Maybe he could be a speed type on the side too, as a treat.

Grim: My dude would be an Exceed that stubborns his way into learning fire magic, even if it's super basic.