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hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong · 3 years ago

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Welcome back

Amazing art by @panyum

"YOUR HEAD IS MINE!"

*SLASH!*

That was what was heard as a Phantom version of Rex's servant, Coyolxauhqui deals the finishing blow to Ivan the Terrible. The mighty Tsar could not withstand the lethal blow, and falls to the ground, before succumbing to his wounds.

Ivan: heh, you've done well in defeating me, boy. It takes a lot of strength to stand firm against a mighty enemy such as I. And you've better keep up that strength, if you plan to continue with this journey of your's. Because the other lostbelts will have people like me, fighting hard to keep their world alive. So keep that in mind, as you go on.

Rex stood there, tired from the fight. He breathed heavily as he listened to his fallen enemy's words.

Rex: ....I will. I'll make sure to keep those words in mind.

Ivan: good... that's all I ask of the man who defeated me.

As he says this, he fades away, into dust. Now the Tsar was gone.

Now it was time for Rex to do something very important!

Many of the demonic beasts of this wintery Lostbelt had come, surrounding Rex.

Rex: perfect.... they'll work just fine.

Rex then summoned a Phantom version of Lancelot Berserker, guns at the ready.

It was over quickly, all the beasts gunned down by the Phantom servant. Rex had what he needed.

Grabbing a nearby stick, Rex dipped it in the blood of the beasts and used it to draw what seemed to be a large summoning circle. Then all of a sudden, his communicator started up.

Da Vinci: Rex! There you are! What's happening on your end? How's thing been?

Rex spoke, with clear signs that he was tired from his previous combat.

Rex: I just defeated Ivan the Terrible. He's gone now.

Gordy: you managed to defeat that monstrosity? I guess it's true that you were able to save human history.

Rex: oh now you believe me!

Holmes: well with no proof, it is a tough claim to back up.

Rex: quiet Holmes!

Rex continued on with his summoning circle.

Da Vinci: what're you doing now?

Gordy: shouldn't you be joining the other two to destroy the tree?!

Rex: not yet.... I have one more thing I need to do

It didn't take long for Da Vinci to piece together what Rex was doing

Da Vinci: are you sure about this? Without the briefcase she may not remember you.

Gordy: huh? What are you talking about?

Rex: can't take that kind of risk. The others are in direct combat with Kadoc, risking summoning in the middle of combat is not good.

Gordy: you're going to summon a servant?!

Holmes: not just any servant, likely it's his first: Quetzalcoatl.

Rex: there, finished up.

Rex was looking before him. A large summoning circle made of the dark red blood of the slain demonic beasts.

Gordy: I still have genuine trouble believing that you managed to summon a divine spirit, even if they weren't a full divinity, that's a tall ask for any magus.

Rex: well you're gonna have to believe it, Gordy.

As Rex said this, he was looking into his pockets for the catalyst that allowed him to summon Quetzalcoatl in the first place. But no luck.

Rex: fuck! Where'd it go?!

Da Vinci: what is it? What happened?

Rex: my catalyst, I can't find it!

Da Vinci: oh no....

Rex: now what do I do....?

Gordy: so you're giving up? How sad.

Da Vinci: director!

Gordy: I mean it! After claiming to save human history, he's going to give up now?

Rex: I'm not giving up!

Gordy: then what're you waiting for?!

Rex: fine! I don't need a damn feather anyways!

Rex stood in front of the summoning circle, closed his eyes and started the summoning chant.

Rex: My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the grail's call, and abide by this will and reason, then answer me. I hereby swear. I embody all that is good in the world. I shall defeat all that is evil in the world. Seventh heaven clad in the three words of power! Come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of the Scales!

The circle pulses with intense magical energy, so much so that the very earth shakes and the communicator loses connection to Rex. The familiar pillar of light erupts once again, but much more chaotically then before, followed by dramatic shaking and bursting of energy!

Before it finally releases it's energy, then fading to see a very familiar face.

Quetz: Hola! The goddess Quetzalcoa-

*pause*

Quetz: ...Mi amor?

Rex: it's been a very long time... Mi corazon.

Quetz: *gasp!* MI AMOR!

Then Quetzalcoatl leaps towards Rex in a grapple to hug him, causing the two to fall into the snow. The two were then giggling with joy at being together again, after what felt like an eternity apart.

Rex: it's so amazing to see you again, Mi corazon!

Quetz: si! I was so very lonely without you mi amor!

After a bit of time, the two stopped and stood back up in the snow and Quetz finally processed their location.

Quetz: why all the snow? Is it winter time?

That's when Rex realized Quetz wasn't aware of the situation they were in. Wasn't aware that the world was in danger once again, only far far worse now then before.

Rex: well... mi corazon. I have some... troubling news...

He said as he lowered his head.

Quetz's happiness turned to concern after she heard that.

Quetz: what's wrong? What happened?

Rex: unfortunately.... we have to save humanity once again. This time from a much larger threat then before.

When Quetzalcoatl heard this, she was devastated.

Quetz: eh? Wh-what?! N-no! How could this happen?! You had already defeated Goetia with the others! The world should be safe again!

Tears then started to form on Quetz's face.

Quetz: we-we were supposed to reunite happily... a-and peacefully.... wh-why do we only find each other when the world is in danger....

Rex then hugged Quetz tightly, to comfort her.

Rex: I'm so very sorry mi corazon. I hate that we only seem to find each other in the most terrible of circumstances. But the world is in danger again, and we need to save it.... we cannot let the humanity you love fade away....

Solemnly, Quetz returned the hug.

Quetz: you're right.... it's painful but you're right.

Then Rex slowly broke the hug, held Quetz's hands in his, then started to speak to her.

Rex: but let me promise you one thing.

Quetz: ...eh? What would that be?

Rex: I promise that once this is all over, once the world is well and truly safe. Let's stay together, go somewhere nice and live together, we can even get married!

Quetz's eyes beamed when she heard that.

Quetz: m-m-married! Ar-are you serious mi amor?! You want us to get married?!

Rex: si... I already know you'd make the perfect wife.... so once we finally save this planet for good, let's get married.

Quetz: yes! Yes yes yes! Once this is over, we'll get married! Oh mi amor, you've made me the happiest goddess in existence!

Rex: and you've made me the happiest person alive! I'm so very happy to have met you! Te amo mucho, mi corazon!

Quetz: te amo mucho, mi amor!

Finally the comms started to work again.

Da Vinci: what happened?! Rex, did it work?!

Quetz: Hola Da Vinci! You look younger...

Da Vinci: HOLY SHIT! Rex, you did it!!!!

Rex: of course I did! Nothing can keep us apart for long.

Gordy: well I'll be damned.... you summoned a divine spirit....

Holmes: and he didn't even need the briefcase.

The two were then filled with determination, for the battle up ahead.

Quetz: well don't we have enemies to take care of?

Rex: right! Let's get to it then!

A/N: so there's a remake of the reunion story from way back in the day. I've been meaning to remake for ages, and now here it is! And with extremely lovely art by Pan too! So lovely I'd say it's their best yet! (Or maybe that's just bias speaking since it's my self-ship) but anyways hope you enjoyed the story and the art!

Tags

@hasereshdoneanythingwrong @hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @grievouslyxorvia @writer-and-artist27 @chaldeamage-neo @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @witch-of-chaldea @exmeowstic @renmeo

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #wife #mastersona #rex #rexcoatl #leonardo da vinci #goredolf music #sherlock holmes #major lore!#commission

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moonlightreal · 4 years ago

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This is the “author’s note” I found on the amazon pages for the pretty hardcover Night World books. My memory is that it was just there, the book-blurb at the top by the cover picture, was this.

Like a bonehead I just copied the text without grabbing a screencap or noting the date. The amazon page now has the publication date is December 2016 so this bit of optimism was just before Ms. Smith vanished. Of course we don’t know when it was written or whose idea it was. Was Strange Fate really finished or was someone just feeling hopeful?

NIGHT WORLD Dear Readers, It’s hard to tell you how much the re-release of the Night World books means to me. It has allowed me to come full circle, to complete a cycle that began with Secret Vampire. It has allowed me to finish Strange Fate, which grew into an epic that included roles for almost every Night World character. And Strange Fate allowed me to show the origins of the Night World, the apocalypse that threatens to destroy it, and even a possible future in which the evil side of the Night World prevails. I am often asked how I conceived the idea for the Night World series. It began when I wanted to write stand-alone novels that would combine horror and romance. But I wanted more: I wanted to do a series in which this Night World—a vast, secret world that exists within the everyday world—would slowly reveal itself to readers. That’s why the first book is called Secret Vampire: the inhabitants of the Night World, composed of vampires, shapeshifters, witches, and other supernatural creatures I wanted to invent, are hidden from humans. A vampire is necessarily a secret vampire … because of the laws. I also wanted to write about a new kind of forbidden love. That’s not easy—most good forbidden love topics were old by Shakespeare’s time. But with this series, I could create the possibility of forbidden love simply by saying that the laws of the Night World prohibit a Night Person from falling in love with a human. But I still needed one more ingredient. I needed the rise of the soulmate principle to actively force Night People to fall in love with humans, no matter how hard they fought against it. Voilà! Then it was just a matter of making up interesting characters and setting them loose in my head to see what they would do. I often begin like that: sitting in a quiet room and searching for a sparkle in my mind that could become my new heroine. Sometimes it’s easy and a whole character shimmers before me. Sometimes I only get the faintest firefly glimmer of a new girl, and I have to hold my breath and see if that glimmer will materialize into a three-dimensional person. Heroes and anti-heroes are easier. It’s just a matter of picking one that will be a true soulmate for my heroine. I have a whole collection of these characters in my mind, all trying to crash the party. And they’re usually bad boys. The settings and in-depth plot development are another layer of work. But often the characters just run off and do what they want, and I have trouble keeping up with their antics on my keyboard. One thing I always do is look carefully at my characters and plot from all angles to make sure I’m not plagiarizing a book or series that I may have read before. That’s just normal procedure for ethical authors: we make sure our stories aren’t too much like another story we might have read. Of course, there are many ideas that have been around since the Babylonian myths, and many characters that are archetypal. But, really, it’s almost impossible to take many things from the body of another author’s work—say, someone else’s character(s) or plot or story device—without actually intending to do so. I can’t imagine wanting to do that. I wish I could say every author felt the same. Poppy North is a character I examined very carefully. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t too much like Bonnie McCullough, another petite character of mine from The Vampire Diaries. I didn’t even want to plagiarize myself ! But Poppy convinced me that she was a tough little squirt who by high school had already planned out her future, which is very unlike Bonnie. Poppy was going to marry her mysterious friend James—she just hadn’t informed him yet. Also, unlike Bonnie, she had a fatal flaw in her small body. In Secret Vampire, I knew I was dealing with a serious issue: terminal cancer in a high school girl. So I did a lot of research before deciding on a type of cancer that would be truly inoperable and give Poppy only a month or two to live. I went to several hospitals to talk to nurses in oncology wards. I always brought toys for the hospitalized children, but the whole subject was so heartbreaking I was almost afraid to tackle it. Once I did, though, I found that Poppy was even stronger than I had imagined. In the book, she makes the only choice she can to go on living, and she never looks back. Poppy is one of my favorite girls, and she ushers in Ash Redfern, who quickly became one of my favorite bad boys. Ash has a murky past of womanizing and … well, more womanizing. Ash returns in Daughters of Darkness because he has been ordered by the leader of all vampires, Hunter Redfern, to bring his three runaway sisters back to their cloistered vampire island. But when Ash locates his sisters, he runs straight into the human stargazer Mary-Lynnette, and the sparks begin flying—literally. Mary-Lynnette is a character I made up when I was a kid, and I’m always surprised by how many people like her and Ash together. Mary-Lynnette spends most of the time expressing her feelings for Ash by kicking him in the shins, but their dialogues are some of my favorite passages in the whole series. Ash, in turn, escorts Quinn into the series. And Quinn (who does have a first name, though he rarely uses it) is one really scary guy. A vampire since 1639 A.D., Quinn is sharp, cold, humorless, and heartless. Unlike Ash, who is mainly guilty of an incredibly long series of one-night stands, Quinn enters the series as a human slave trader. That is, he provides vampires with young girls, and he doesn’t ask questions about what happens to the girls afterward. This led to a problem: How on earth was I going to redeem this villain enough to make him someone’s soulmate in The Chosen? I really sweated over that. My first task was to make Quinn more sympathetic. The best way to do it seemed to be by telling a bit of Quinn’s own tragic story: how he falls in love with sweet Dove Redfern, and how her vampire father decides to make Quinn his heir. Dove’s father is Hunter Redfern, one of the most important vampire leaders in Night World history. This is the same Hunter Redfern who, nearly half a millennium later, sends Ash to drag his sisters back home. The same Hunter Redfern who sends his daughter, Lily, after Jez in Huntress. The same Hunter Redfern who tries to turn Delos into a merciless killer in Black Dawn. But, as a boy, Quinn doesn’t know anything about the Night World, and he is deeply in love with gentle Dove. When Hunter makes him a vampire by force and then when Quinn can’t save Dove from being killed, Quinn’s heart freezes over. For four hundred years it accumulates ice—until he meets Rashel. That’s another favorite scene of mine: when Rashel, a dedicated vampire hunter since (guess who?) Hunter Redfern killed her mother, encounters Quinn. A group of Rashel’s fellow vampire slayers have captured Quinn and plan to torture him, and Rashel is left alone to guard him. Quinn, feeling old and tired despite his youthful appearance and great power, gives himself up for dead—and is a little glad to do so. Rashel, however, can’t stomach the idea of torture. When Rashel talks to this most-hated vampire and hears his story, she deliberately sets him free. And that astonishes him. But it’s the soulmate principle working its magic. I loved making two such strong-willed enemies succumb to the silver cord that connects them. I especially loved hearing Quinn warning Rashel not to let him go—and then protecting her when her comrades arrive back in time to see that she’s let him loose. I really loved writing about Quinn and Rashel’s soulmate sequences. As Rashel enters Quinn’s mind, she sees “thorny scary parts” but also “rainbow places that were aching to grow” and “other parts that seemed to quiver with light, desperate to be awakened.” She begins to think that people ask so little of themselves. If the mind of a slave trader can look like this, an ordinary person must have the power to become a saint. It is with this revelation (and much penance on Quinn’s part) that Quinn is redeemed. That’s the thread that binds all the novels together: redemption. The possibility of a second chance. Everyone has choices to make, but even the most evil of vampires can choose to atone and be redeemed. It may not necessarily stave off punishment in this world or the next, but redemption is possible. I’ve been asked who my favorite characters are, and the answer always changes because it depends on the book I’m writing. Right now my favorites are three characters from Strange Fate. As for my favorite couples in the published books? Morgead and Jez—I suppose. Who would find themselves at greater odds than a vampire gang leader and his onetime superior, a vampire who finds out she is half human? I learned some cool martial arts moves as a bonus for writing about them. Then there is Keller, one of my all-time favorite heroines, and Iliana, the beautiful Witch Child, and Galen, ruler of the shapeshifters: the love triangle in Witchlight. Keller starts out seeming brusque and businesslike, but the love of Galen and of the unselfish Iliana help to heal her inner wounds. And I can’t forget Thierry and Hannah, and Circle Daybreak. I created Circle Daybreak because the Night World witches had only two clans: Circle Twilight and Circle Midnight. Those, like Thea in Spellbinder, who belong to Circle Twilight are not-so-wicked witches (that is, they don’t want to exterminate all humans like the darkest witches, those who belong to Circle Midnight), but they are still wicked enough. So what was to be done with all these new soulmates, when Night World law said that they must be put to death? Someone had to make a place for them where they would be safe, and I decided it was Thierry, one of the oldest vampires, and Hannah, his Old Soul soulmate, who has lived hundreds of lifetimes without ever reaching the age of seventeen. They are the ones who revive Circle Daybreak, where humans and Night People can forget about past tragedies and concentrate on a brighter future together. Although Thierry is an old vampire, he isn’t the oldest vampire. There is one older, the one who Changed him. She provides another thread that binds the series: the pitiless Maya. Maya is the first vampire, the witch who finds the secret of eternal life—and chooses to use it for evil. But there will be plenty more about her, including a look at the young Maya, her sister Hellewise, and their mother, Hecate Witch-Queen, in the upcoming Strange Fate. And so now I’ve come full circle, back to Strange Fate. But I can’t finish until I add the other joy that the re-release of Night World has brought me. It’s brought me into contact with you by e-mail. Night World fans write so many intelligent, articulate, courteous, exciting e-mails! I love to get messages from “old” fans, who say my works “got them through high school.” Thank you for them! And messages from new fans, who say they have just read all my reissued books—and are impatient for more. Thank you! And the messages that simply demand: “When is Strange Fate coming out?” Thank you, too! With a full heart, all I can say is thank you, thank you, and thank you again! I never thought I would have a chance to write an open letter to all Night World fans, and I can only wish that you knew how grateful I am … for this second chance. Sincerely, (LJ Smith signature image) P.S. I love to get e-mail, letters, and messages. Visit me at ljanesmith.net!

#nightworld #ljsmith strangefate #strange fate #LJ Smith

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thespianbooks · 4 years ago

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 24//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

I hope this chapter finds you well, and thank you for your patience while I took last week off from posting! Enjoy! ❤️

XXX

I was beginning to feel like this pregnancy would never end, and that I would never sleep again.

As the days stretched on, so did my belly, my skin, and, what felt like, the rest of my body. Along with my middle expanding to a depth I hadn't thought possible, so came the restless nights. From the beginning of my pregnancy, Sebastian had been a gentle glimmer, a beautiful heartbeat that pulsed between my mate and I. After a time, that glimmer was accompanied by light kicks and punches. Now, after a fitful two months filled with little hours of sleep and only growing increasingly uncomfortable by day, my once gentle and calm baby had grown boisterous—especially at night.

"He does hail from the Night Court," Rhys tried to reason as we lay in bed together—another sleepless evening looking to be ahead of us.

"That doesn't mean we never sleep," I complained as he caressed the large expanse of my belly.

His smile as apologetic as he pressed a kiss to my brow, lowering himself down to be eye level with my stomach. "You mustn't be so hard on your mother, Bash. You don't want to be on her bad side before you're born," he said.

I sighed as our son kicked in response, a glimmer flickering through our bond as Rhys watched my stomach; mesmerized as my skin stretched with Sebastian's movement. "I think that was his elbow I saw," he said, touching the spot gently.

My heart warmed at his reaction. "It was," I said. "But you addressing him directly isn't exactly enticing him to settle down in there."

"Right," he said, coming onto his elbows as if he could see our son through my shift and layers of skin and muscle. "Maybe some tea would help you sleep, it could settle you both."

I nodded. "Elain did mix together a new brew for me earlier, and I was able to nap right after...maybe it'll help again now," I said, pushing myself carefully.

"I'll get it for you, my love, you rest here," he said before pushing off the bed-still clad in the black clothes he wore during the day.

I watched him leave and stared down at my stomach, running my hands over it in a gentle caress. The growth I'd experienced in the last couple of months had been exponential, and I was delighted at every check in with Madja when she deemed both of us to be in good health. The midwife, the healer's sister, also regularly attended for my evaluations. She performed her own examinations, using her specialized magic to check on the baby's position and other attributes, like his size and weight—all within the expected range at this stage. At our last appointment earlier in the week, both the midwife and Madja declared that Sebastian had dropped low into my pelvis, head down, which was the correct position for birth. With that assessment, they also determined that I could now go into labor at any time. Although fae pregnancies tended to last up to five weeks longer than a human pregnancy, they assured us that females typically gave birth anywhere in between those weeks—depending on the development of their babes. Sebastian was now fully developed, healthy, strong, and ready to enter the world. Soon my period of nesting would begin and then I'd become reserved in preparation for the undertaking the birthing process would put my body through.

Initially, Rhys and I expected it to happen right away, causing my mate to go on high alert as he remained at my side for every second of the day. According to everything we had been told, as my mate, he would be the first one to sense the change in me. As the days passed, however, they went on as normal with no sign of my diffident state on the horizon. Instead, we followed the new routine and schedule Clotho created for us; meetings and usual court business officially taking place in Rhys's office where I could rest as needed in between work. After matters were settled with the Illyrians, and Mor officially taking her father's place as ruler of the Hewn City, all previous hostility in the Night Court dissipated.

"Elain had the tea ready for you." Rhys said as he re-entered our room, interrupting my thoughts, carrying a tray with a teapot, mug, and covered plates of food.

I pushed myself up with a grunt of effort, eyeing the tray. "What's all this?" I asked as he set the tray on the bed before coming to help me sit upright.

"Well, dinner was hours ago, and based on the past week alone, this is around the time your cravings start." He replied, uncovering the plates filled with an array of fruits, pastries, and a jar filled with pickled herrings.

I beamed. "You brought all of my cravings?"

He nodded. "Even the less desirable one," he answered with a glance at the container of herrings.

Rather than glare at him for his disdain for my cravings, I immediately grabbed the jar with glee. "It's not my fault your son demands I eat these," I countered.

"It's hard to argue that" he said with a smile, his violet eyes sparkling with adoration even as I ate one.

I sighed in content as I ate the entire contents of the jar, Rhys sitting adjacent to me and bringing my legs to rest over his lap as I leaned against the headboard for support. My sighs turned to groans of relief as he began to gently massage my ankles and feet, which had grown swollen recently thanks to walking around with my extraordinary weight.

"Don't worry, they'll shrink back to normal," Rhys assured me, making me realize my mental shields were left wide open for him.

"It's getting harder," I confessed with a sheepish smile. "To keep my shields up, concentrate on work, and lug around this belly."

Rhys nodded his understanding, still rubbing my feet. "You're allowed your discomforts right now my love. In your condition it's impossible to keep up the stamina all day," he sympathized.

"Which is why I need sleep," I said with a frown.

He reached over to the tray, pouring me a cup of the brew Elain had mixed together for me, having found the recipe and ingredients from an apothecary she found at the Palace of Bone and Salt. I eagerly took the steaming mug as he handed it to me, praying to the Mother it would settle my wriggling unborn child enough to afford me a good night's sleep.

"Hopefully with your cravings satisfied and this tea combined, you'll be asleep in no time." Rhys mused, voicing my thoughts aloud. "We wouldn't want you to be cranky during your surprise tomorrow afternoon."

I blinked. "What surprise?"

"If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise."

Prick.

He laughed outright. "Regardless, my lips are sealed. Your sisters and Mor have been planning this for months, and I won't spoil it."

I sighed. "I don't actually have to go anywhere do I?"

Rhys chuckled as I sipped at my tea. "No, the surprise is right here in our home," he reassured as he came to lay on his side, setting my feet back onto the bed and propping himself up on an elbow as his other hand caressed my stomach.

"Is the surprise actually for me, or for Bash?" I asked.

"My lips are sealed," he repeated before pressing a kiss to the hand lying idle on my belly. "But I have a feeling you'll enjoy it regardless."

I sighed in mock exaggeration. "I guess as High Lady I have no choice but to attend," I hummed.

"It would be strange not to, especially considering the location," Rhys added in his own playful tone.

"But I expect some recompense," I motioned to my large belly. "For my gallant efforts."

He returned with a roguish grin, "More foot rubs? Or maybe a back massage?"

I pretended to consider for a long moment, dragging it out as I sipped from my tea, before I finally nodded. "Both will do," I agreed.

His dark chuckle reverberated through the room, through me, as he moved onto his hands and knees to level our gazes and pressed a kiss to my brow—staying there for a minute. Setting my now empty mug aside, I brought my hands up to hold either side of his face; both of our eyes slipping shut as he remained hovering above me, breathing in each other's scent. After a minute of relishing each other's warmth, I couldn't help the yawn that broke from my throat as Rhys pulled back with a smirk.

"Let's get you to sleep," he said softly.

I nodded, my eyelids actually feeling heavy as he helped me into a side-lying position; using his magic to wave away the tray of leftover food as well as his day clothes, leaving him in only his undershorts as he lay beside me. It was here, in his continued warmth and lingering scent that I finally succumbed into a much-needed sleep.

XXX

I could still pick up on the residuals of Rhysand's scent when I awoke the next morning—or rather, the afternoon, judging from the way the sunlight shone through the gossamer curtains in our room. I stretched onto my back slowly with a yawn, a new tray of food showing up on the space beside me and a note popping up alongside it. I smiled as I grabbed it, reading the quick words my mate had written.

Have some breakfast my love and come join me in the nursery.

My smile warmed before I slowly pushed myself upright, my stomach growling—a not so subtle indication from Sebastian at how hungry we both were. I took my time eating through the assortment of food Rhys had picked out for me, knowing whatever awaited me in the nursery had something to do with the surprise my sisters and Mor had for me. Once we had returned from the Illyrian camps, following the coup, Elain finally completed all plans she had for the full reconstruction of the nursery, once our sitting room, and recruited Nesta and Mor to see to its fruition. For the last two months it was their project, one they made sure to exclude me from with the promise that it would be ready in time for the baby's arrival. Elain claimed it was an "aunt's only" venture, which I was happy to oblige to thanks to my continued exhaustive state.

Once my appetite had been sated, I tried using the momentum of my legs swinging over the edge of the bed to push myself up to standing...only to have my large belly prevent me from actually being able to sit up at all. I sighed in frustration, but before I could call Rhys through the bond, he was in the room and at my side in seconds.

I scowled as he took both my hands, hauling me up to my feet. "I officially can't even climb out of bed without help," I grumbled.

"Yes, well," he glanced at my stomach with a feline grin. "We saw that coming."

I sighed and ambled towards my armoire. "If you hadn't come, I would've been stuck there and never would've been able to join you for my surprise."

Rhys laughed. "I wouldn't have left you here all day, I promise," he said as he came to my side, grabbing a gown I didn't recognize from the far end of the armoire. "How about this?"

I stared at it as he hung it on the door of the armoire for display. It was a floor length, midnight blue maternity gown with off-shoulder long sleeves. The bust ruched in elegant pleats, creating an elegant sweetheart neckline, and would allow the rest of the soft fabric to fall and hang over my belly delicately.

I smiled at him. "Is it another gown your mother made for me?" I asked softly.

He nodded. "I've been waiting to pull it out for you. I think today would be the perfect opportunity."

"Will you help me into it?" I asked by way of agreement.

Rhys smiled, the rare and soft smile that always warmed me to my core. "Of course, Feyre darling."

After another half an hour spent helping me wash up in the bathing room, changing, and arranging my hair in a simple braided crown, I was ready. I laughed as I caught my reflection in the mirror.

"I look like I'm going to a party," I admitted.

"You are," Rhys confirmed as he looped his arm with mine, escorting me to the other end of our suite and to the double doors that led to the sitting room-now nursery.

Before I could question him further, he opened the doors to the nursery where all of our family awaited us. I barely noticed the smiles on their faces as I took in the transformed space. The once creme colored walls were now painted in a soft baby blue hue, a few clouds painted throughout. A dark-stained wooden cradle decorated with matching soft blue and white blankets nestled inside sat in the middle of the room, a plush carpet underneath and a weaved basket overflowing with stuffed toys sitting beside it. Hanging above the cradle, draped open delicately on either side of it, was a light grey canopy. Tears I hadn't realized gathered in my eyes fell when I blinked at the sight before me.

"What do you think, Feyre?" Elain asked as she crossed over to me, taking both of my hands in hers.

I nodded with a wet laugh, observing the other details of the room—all beautifully and meticulously decorated. "It's beautiful Elain," I said.

"Just wait until you see his closet full of clothes," Mor said with a grin as she came to my side and embraced me. "Nesta and I have been collecting clothes for months."

I looked at Nesta, surprised, but she waved a hand. "It was mostly her and Elain. I organized them according to size," she explained.

"She really doesn't want to admit to the two outfits she actually found because she's worried you'll think they're ugly," Cassian teased from beside her, earning a deadly glare from my sister.

I had been surprised to see both him and Azriel in the room with the others, both clad in the casual clothes we rarely saw them wear.

They wanted to be here for your sister's and Mor's unveiling. Consider this one of the last gatherings we'll all have together before Sebastian arrives. Rhys said through the bond.

I smiled briefly at my mate, squeezing the hand that held mine and turned back to the others, when suddenly the Night Court insignia caught the corner of my eye from the wall to my left. I paused before walking over to it, taking in the tapestry woven from the deepest black to exist and the iridescent silver thread shining like liquid starlight as it shaped the Night Court's insignia.

Void and Hope.

I touched it gently, marveling at the feel of the velvet texture—remembering how it felt exactly as it had that day I saw it in the weaver's gallery. Back then I had no idea where I would hang it, but seeing it here now, recalling the emotions it stirred in me then—the realization of just how lucky Rhys and I were to both return from the war with each other and how far we had come since; the realization of wanting, more than anything, to start a family with my mate as soon as possible. I couldn't think of a more perfect place for it.

"It was Rhysand's idea to hang it up here. What do you think?" Elain asked with a gentle smile, remembering the day she had been with me when I bought it.

I nodded and turned back to my mate, my eyes burning as I rested both hands on my belly. "It's perfect," I repeated, knowing he heard the initial sentiments in my thoughts.

"You're welcome, Feyre darling," he purred in my ear as he returned to my side and pressed a kiss to my temple.

Mor clapped before I could get lost in his warmth, and grinned. "Alright, now it's present time!" She declared.

I blinked. "Present time? It isn't my birthday." I said, confused.

"No, but it's almost his," Mor said as she rubbed my stomach affectionately. "So, we're having a little celebration in honor of his arrival," she explained.

I looked at Rhys, but he simply shrugged. "It is a tradition among the fae, much like the parties thrown for a mated pair."

"We didn't have a party when I accepted our bond," I argued, my face flushing as I realized just how much I had become the center of attention.

"Which is why we all get to celebrate you now," Mor countered with a grin. "It's not every day a High Lady gives birth to a future High Lord."

I opened my mouth to argue the case of Viviane, but was surprised when Amren was the one to cut in. "The Winter Court does things differently than we do, girl."

I surveyed all their faces; Mor, Elain, and Cassian looked the most eager, but even Azriel, Amren and Nesta seemed earnest in wanting to commemorate this moment—one of the last we would all have together during my pregnancy, before Sebastian was born. Given the last arduous several months we just endured, unable to really relish in welcoming his arrival or spending that much time together in a casual setting like this, I knew now our chance.

With another glance at my mate, who dipped his head in approval, I sighed in mock exaggeration before I nodded at Mor with a genuine grin. Her face lit up with delight before leading me over to the rocking chair on the other end of the room.

"You too, Rhysie," Cassian said as he nudged Rhys forward. "You're the dad, so we have a few things for you too."

"Feyre is the pregnant one. She's been doing all the hard work, and I've just been watching," Rhys avowed.

"You've done more than that," Nesta claimed, and Elain nodded in approval as they both began gathering the presents that had been hidden in the closet.

Azriel came and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Technically, as the expectant parents, all of these gifts are for both of you, as well as your son." he reasoned.

"Yeah, so come sit with Feyre and let us shower you with gifts," Cassian insisted with a crooked grin as he pulled up a chair and placed it next to mine.

Rhys looked taken aback by his brother's words, and even Nesta's, as he glanced in my direction. He was the one used to indulging the others, as High Lord he saw it as part of his duty—to accommodate his friends, his family, but now he was the one being tended to.

I smiled as I reached a hand out to him, the other resting on the apex of my belly as I sat in the rocking chair. "If I have to endure this, so do you," I teased.

He half-heartedly rolled his eyes, a feline grin on his face as he took my hand and came to sit beside me. I squeezed it gently, glancing at my stomach as that once-gentle glimmer flickered through us both and down the bond.

XXX

The sleep I had found that night was short-lived. While the tea I had drunk the night before had done wonders at calming down my lively babe and had helped me once again succumb to the embers of slumber, I felt a strange sensation in my nerves.

It wasn't like the panic or fear triggered by nightmares, but rather a gentle buzz that thrummed under my skin. I couldn't place the name for what exactly I was feeling, but it felt reminiscent of Calanmai, or when I had felt the early traces of the bond between Rhys and me. I felt that tug on the bond now, despite Rhys sleeping peacefully at my side, and felt it over and over until I slowly and carefully hoisted myself out of bed. In spite of the effort it took, I didn't struggle as I had earlier, the gentle buzzing seeming to cause a light adrenaline rush. I padded across the room as quietly as I could manage, as to not disturb my mate, and over to the double doors that lead to the nursery.

I stepped inside and admired the sight as I had earlier, touching the cradle gently as I approached it. My chest tightened a bit as I tried to imagine a swaddled and sleeping Sebastian laying in it. I often saw the baby version of what the Bone Carver had shown me in my dreams; of Rhysand holding and cradling him in his arms—a miniature version of himself with some of my own features mixed in. I sighed contentedly as I grabbed a soft blanket thrown over the edge of the cradle, folding it neatly before placing it on the bedding. I surveyed the rest of the room, suddenly finding a few imperfections in the decor, or in the supplies that had been laid out, and before I knew it, I was rearranging the different areas of the room. I started with the cradle, folding the different types of blankets according to size and type, before moving onto the changing station and began organizing the different creams and ointments we might need for that messy business. With the words and lectures of our healer and midwife in my head, specifically on how we would care for and tend to Sebastian once he arrived, I now felt compelled to make sure that I was adequately prepared.

"Look who's being a mother hen now," my mate said from the doorway, his voice a husky mixture of sleep and amusement.

I turned to look at him, a stuffed toy in hand from my work of rearranging the basket of toys sitting beside the changing station. I felt another flush return to my cheeks as he came to my side.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted as I looked at the toy; a bear with cloth wings Nesta claimed had been hand-sewn by the clothier shopkeeper Emerie, from the Windhaven camp.

"I see that," Rhys said softly, hands coming to hold my stomach. When he felt no answering glimmer or movement in response to his touch, he smiled. "But it wasn't because our little one kept you awake, it seems."

I paused, realizing he was right. Sebastian had remained still, asleep, despite my movements and the tug I had felt on the bond. "No. It was...something else, I think. I fell asleep earlier, but then I woke up with this overwhelming urge to…" I looked around the room, trying to voice exactly what I felt. "Clean?" I tried.

Rhys's violet eyes warmed, starlight smoldering as a hand touched my cheek gently. "Feyre, darling, you're starting to nest," he said.

My eyes met his, astonished, realizing what this meant. "Oh," I whispered and looked down at my belly.

Nesting was the first indication of my body readying for labor. It was an expecting female's first instinct, the midwife had told us, because she would want to make sure her home was aptly prepared for the arrival of her newborn. This period could last anywhere between a few days to a week and would follow with all other instincts cooling into a withdrawn state; a necessary final stage before the laboring process began.

I let out a shaky breath as Rhys caressed my stomach, his brow coming to rest on mine as those sparkling violet eyes stared into mine. "It's okay, Feyre," he reassured. "If you're nervous."

"I'm a little nervous," I confessed. "Not just because I know there will be pain, but because...we'll finally get to meet him."

I stroked my stomach gently as I went on. "After all these years of trying, after the last several months we've had...we're finally going to hold him in our arms. He won't just be what we've imagined him to be, what the Bone Carver showed us...he'll be real."

Rhys brushed away a stray tear as it fell down my cheek and held me as closely as he could, my large belly pressed against the hard planes of his, resting between us.

"Yes, he will," he whispered before claiming my lips with his in a lingering and sweet kiss as my eyes fluttered closed.

"We're having a baby," I whispered after a minute, my lips still lingering on his.

I felt him smile and he pulled back to meet my gaze as I opened my eyes again. His thumbs stroking my cheeks as he held my face.

"Yes, we are, my love, and I don't know how to thank you for this...this gift, this life you've grown inside of you," he said, his violet eyes now lined with silver.

My hands came to take his wrists gently, bringing his hands to my lips in a brief kiss before letting them go so he could hold my waist. "You can start by helping me organize this room...and bringing me some more pickled herrings?" I asked with an abashed smile.

Rhys threw his head back in a laugh, pressing another quick kiss to my lips as he nodded and sketched a quick bow. "As my Lady wishes," he said with a wink.

I laughed along with him as I looked down at my stomach, giving it a gentle touch as I wondered just how much longer it would actually be before Sebastian occupied this room.

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that-scouse-wizard · 4 years ago

Text

David Willows MK 2

A/N: Just an updated version of David’s profile, complete with a few changes and a more in-depth description of certain characteristics. Hope you guys enjoy and if you’d like your MC to be friends with him, message me and let’s chat about it.

Some more things to note:

-Merula is not the mole.

-I’m using the female version of Rowan as David’s best friend because to hell with game restrictions. Also, she survives, at least... David’s Rowan does.

-Drastic alteration to the Quidditch storyline. Skye is in David’s year and a Gryffindor. Orion, Murphy and Erika are two years above David and are in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively. Also including Andre and Charlie while introducing Oliver Wood and Lee Jordan.

-It goes without saying but spoilers for my ideas. Some are kept deliberately vague and some aren’t covered entirely more so because I intend to write about it someday. Let me know what you guys think of those that are given though.

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

General Information

Name: David Owen Willows (Formerly David Owen Hall, changed to mother’s maiden name in 1982).

Gender: Male

Age: 11-18 (1984-91), 19-25 (1992-98)

DOB: 30/03/1973

Species: Human

Blood status: Half-blood

Sexuality: Straight

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Ethnicity: White-British

Nationality: English (maternal side of family is Irish, paternal grandmother is Scottish, paternal grandfather and father are English).

Residence: Liverpool/ Lancaster (during his Hogwarts years and depending upon who he’s staying with).

Wimborne (during his career as a pro Quidditch player)

Hogsmeade (final place of residence after becoming Charms professor)

Myers Briggs Personality Type: ENFP, The Campaigner

Character summary: Though he may come across as stand-offish at first, David Willows is a friend as loyal as he is bull-headed. A student of Erika Rath, he became known as Hound on the Quidditch pitch for his relentless pursuit of opposing players. A skill in duelling and the muggle martial art of muay thai (also a pair of knuckledusters) ensures David is a formidable opponent with or without magic.

Personality:

Aggressive: While he tries to reign in his anger, David is known to have a short temper when it comes to certain taunts. Chief amongst them, comparing him to Jacob. In his early years he was even willing to physically fight much older students despite the clear difference in both size and strength.

Aloof: For all of his first year and a good portion of his second year, David isn’t the one to initiate a friendship (except for Chiara but that was when there was no one else to really talk to while spending a night in the Hospital Wing due to the Devil’s Snare incident). However, while undergoing his first time as a quidditch player, he’s taught by Penny how to be a bit more social at pre and post-match parties.

Artistic: David was taught by his mother Rue to draw in greyscale sketches, something he improves on during his time throughout Hogwarts. In the midst of Jacob’s disappearance, his parent’s divorce and especially the stress that comes at Hogwarts, drawing provided an escape for him. His favourite things to draw are people and creatures.

Competitive: This aspect of David tends to come out the most when it comes to sport. With Erika as his mentor, he nurtures a healthy sense of competition as well as a determination to best the other houses and put Hufflepuff on top when it comes to quidditch.

Courageous: Largely as a result of his loyalty, David is willing to throw himself headlong into danger. The Sorting Hat didn’t nearly put him in Gryffindor for no reason.

Determined: When David sets his mind to a goal, he wants to accomplish it to the best of his abilities. In the case of finding Jacob however, it led to a sort of tunnel-vision, one that was finally broken when Chauncy and Philip succumb to injuries sustained under the sleepwalking curse.

Empathetic: Throughout his years at Hogwarts, David starts to empathise with people in his life. Even in the case of Merula, he sees how lonely she must really be and tries to reach out to her on numerous occasions. If he doesn’t fully understand it, he’d like you to share your feelings with him, at your own behest of course.

Loyal: In spite of a prickly exterior at first, once you win David’s loyalty, he’ll return it ten-fold. The type of friend who would take a bullet for you.

Snarky: David has a sharp tongue, preferably he tries to shut down an argument with his wits. Only going for duelling when he feels it necessary. That being said, he isn’t shy about getting petty in a verbal spar, for example his response to Merula when first being taunted about Jacob supposedly teaming up with Voldemort: “At least that’s just a rumour, can’t say the same about your parents.”

Stubborn: A self-described ‘stubborn git’, David is quite notorious for not budging from his position once he thinks he has all the facts he needs. If he’s being especially difficult, just get Merula.

Appearance

Face Claim: Dave Franco (as an adult at least).

Voice Claim: Paul McCartney.

Game appearance:

Physique: Athletic, broad shouldered and fairly bulky as a result of weight training with Erika.

Hair Colour: Dark Brown

Hair style: Chin-length (1st-2nd year), crew cut (3rd-4th year), short but long enough to slick back (5th year-present).

Eye colour: Dark brown.

Height: 5′11″ (as of 6th year)

Weight: Approx 80kg (when fully grown)

Scarring: A few small ones sustained during duels and the occasional mishap in quidditch, mostly on his upper body with a few on his legs. Sustains a burn scar on the left side of his waist during the battle with R.

Body modifications: Get’s the phrase “You’ll never walk alone.” tattooed on his right bicep at eighteen. Later gets a ram skull tattoo on his upper back just between the shoulder blades at age twenty. Finally, gets a shepherd crook just below the ram skull tattoo at age twenty-one.

Inventory: His wand, a pair of knuckledusters, a sketchbook, a pencil case containing stationary.

Fashion: He trusts Andre’s advice on what looks good on him though knows what works for him and what doesn’t. Partly influenced by his musical tastes (mainly punk, and rock and roll), has a love of leather jackets and slightly ripped jeans.

Background/ History:

Pre-Hogwarts:

-David was born in Liverpool, living in the suburb of Allerton. One of his favourite things to do was play football with Jacob and his dad.

-His mum would teach him to draw, most often on rainy days.

-Close to both of his parents as a result but it all changed when Jacob disappeared. He knew Jacob and his parents had arguments after being expelled but hadn’t heard any of it on account of the use of a muffling charm. Furthermore, Rue and Matthew were driven apart, Matthew blaming Jacob’s change in attitude and eventual disappearance on magic in its entirety.

-Sometime after Jacob disappeared and when the general shitshow stirred up by the Daily Prophet had died down, it was settled that Rue and Matthew would divorce. Given that David would go to Hogwarts as well, they thought it would be best for David to take Willows as his surname, hopefully not being recognised as Jacob Hall’s brother.

-This was fruitless, Rita Skeeter caught wind of the proceedings and sensationalised them, exposing the name change in the process. The stress and grief caused both parents to distance themselves from David in some way. Rue threw herself into work and became even more strict with David’s freedom while Matthew just left.

-David however, was fighting his own battles, it became known at his muggle school about Jacob going missing as well as his parents divorcing. This caused him to become quite reclusive from his classmates and would lash out at anyone who said a bad word towards him, especially if it concerned his family drama. He lost any friends he did have and refused to make any more.

During Hogwarts

-Year 1: He first meets Rowan, even being introduced to her younger brother, Alder (basically male Rowan).

David, Rowan, Tonks, Diego, Chiara and Penny first begin to form what becomes known as the Hufflesquad.

Also befriends Ben and Charlie.

Angelica Cole takes him under her wing despite not being in the same house and even shows David a group of trolls she’s been tending to in preparation for her apprenticeship in training security trolls.

Meets the Booths during the Christmas break and despite a rocky start, begins to develop a positive relationship with them even coming to an understanding with his dad.

During one of his expeditions with Angelica, he’s confronted by Needle, an acromantula that previously belonged to Jacob.

Finally stands up to his mum properly, resulting in him staying with the Booths for the summer in Lancaster.

-Year 2: David meets those who are involved in the Quidditch scene at Hogwarts, including Erika Rath, who he briefly develops a crush on until he’s let down gently at the end of Year 2.

He duels Merula for a second time, winning once more, which makes her cry albeit in private. This then results in having his first encounter with Barnaby Lee, who confronts David about upsetting Merula. David tries to get past but Barnaby wraps his hands around David’s throat. Not actually choking him mind, more to get his attention. David panics as it reminds him of the Devil’s Snare that wrapped around his throat and lashes out at Barnaby.

David puts Barnaby in the hospital wing, much to the anger of Liz Tuttle.

The last Quidditch match for the House Cup between Hufflepuff and Slytherin is interrupted by the spread of the cursed ice. Ultimately resulting in Gryffindor’s victory in the cup for that year.

Rue comes back, mentioning how Corey Hayden (David’s American cousin in this AU) would like to transfer to Hogwarts.

Year 3: Amelia comes to Hogwarts as a first year and gets sorted into Hufflepuff. Similarly, Alder starts at Hogwarts and is sorted into Ravenclaw.

Amelia brings Dusty, her cat, along with her. However, Dusty goes missing shortly after arriving at the castle.

Later, in a COMC class, Barnaby mentions that he found a cat matching Dusty’s description. Initially, David is very suspicious to the extent of threatening Barnaby if he harmed Dusty in any way. Barnaby refutes this and returns Dusty to him unharmed, causing David to apologise for both for the accusation and the events that happened last year. Eventually, he even befriends Barnaby.

In a similar vein, when tending to some of his creatures on the reserve, he bumps into Liz and winds up introducing her to Needle. The two get a friendship going, David admiring Liz’s passion for creatures and Liz appreciating David for not finding her weird when she rambles about animals. To the extent that they go out on a few dates.

Close to the end of the year, he rants at Merula. Effectively asking the question of why she seems to hate him. Yet despite the rant he closes off with how he understands Merula, he’s been that lonely kid lashing out at the world and it’s not fun. Despite her reluctance to admit it, Merula knows David is right.

He gets the chance to verbally unload on Rita Skeeter for the articles she wrote about his family when she comes to the school looking to interview an interesting student. Later, several of his friends plus Merula of all people step in to put Skeeter in her place when she successfully provokes him into a fit of rage to make him look bad. The situation is eventually diffused by McGonagall.

Year 4:

Corey officially transfers to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny after exchanging letters with David throughout third year.

Though David wasn’t particularly close to them, Chauncy and Philip (two of his dormmates alongside Diego) succumb to injuries sustained when they were attacked by a red cap under the Sleepwalking curse. When he learns the truth of what attacked them, David slays the creature.

David starts to realise he has a crush on Merula after assisting her in casting Expecto Patronum. Later in the year, he takes her out on a date to Hogsmeade, gets her a songbook for Christmas and even takes her out to the Celestial Ball.

Merula’s parents are freed from Azkaban by R, her mother even meeting Merula in secret throughout the year. During one of their meet-ups, she has a hunch Merula is starting to develop a crush on David (something which is true but not something she would admit it at the time).

In order to eliminate this apparent threat to her family’s blood purity, she asks Merula to bring him to her in the Forbidden Forest under the guise of allowing the two of them to join R like she has. Instead, she subdues David with Petrificus Totalus, attempting to convince Merula to leave him, that David isn’t worth it.

Merula sides with David even though it pains her initially. David stays with her over the summer, where they try to figure out... whatever the hell their relationship is at the moment.

Year 5: Throughout this year he dates Merula in secret until Valentine’s Day. It’s here that she confesses she’s ready to have their relationship out in the open.

One of the most major event for David is Rakepick’s betrayal, he had actually grown fond of her as a mentor. Being stabbed in the back wasn’t a good thing for him.

The second is Jacob leaving immediately after David finds him. It’s hurtful and David becomes a bit reclusive for a while. Finally, he’s comforted by Bill, Orion and Erika, the older sibling figures in his life.

Year 6: Jacob returns, under the watchful eye of Alastor Moody, acting as the DADA teacher for that year. Naturally, there’s tension between the brothers, which eventually resolves.

Jacob does join David for the Christmas break, where he gets along well with the Booths and reunites with his parents.

As well as this, R attempts to come after Amelia, resulting in the death of Alder Khanna. As well as being a devastating loss, it causes a rough patch in David and Rowan’s relationship when in her grief she winds up shouting “I wish I’d never met you, David Willows!” She only realises what she just said when the words leave her mouth but regardless, it causes a fracture within David’s larger circle of friends.

Eventually, the time comes for when David, Jacob and their allies take on the vaults like they had always dreamed of. Together, they face off against the guardian of the Sunken vault, an Ammit (based on the creature of Ancient Egyptian Mythology). Eventually the beast is defeated and they claim the treasure of the vaults, what seems to be the base of a necklace.

In a celebration at the Three Broomsticks, R attacks and murders Jacob. This sends David spiralling into grief, hitting his truly lowest point. He worked so hard, he rebuilt his family at home and forged a new one at Hogwarts, all the while hoping Jacob would be able to join them. And what was it all for? Nothing.

Before the school year is up... he snaps his wand and runs away from Hogwarts. Not to Liverpool, not to Lancaster, just anywhere but there. It will keep his friends and family safe or so he reasons. Deep down though, he thinks it’s cowardly.

During this time, he finds his way to Glasgow and starts sleeping rough on the streets all the while battling with grief, anger and self loathing. This goes on for two months before Moody tracks him down, apparating him to a secluded area of the Scottish countryside, kicks his arse and talks him down. Taking him to Grimmauld Place afterwards with the intention of formulating a plan to take the fight to R.

Where he finds most of his remaining friends waiting for him. At first he staunchly refuses their help, feeling he’s already put enough people in danger. Yet they refuse to leave.

This is actually the moment where the Circle of Khanna is formed, this time named for Alder. Reconciling with Rowan after a serious heart-to-heart.

Year 7: ...Let’s just say R is going to regret setting David Willows on the warpath.

R’s destruction becomes widely regarded news, however David allows Moody to take the credit for it. Frankly, by this point he’s sick of any attachment to the Cabal and just wants to play Quidditch.

He’s able to pass his NEWTS and win the Quidditch cup for Hufflepuff one last time, resulting in him being offered the position as beater on the Wimborne Wasps.

Post-Hogwarts:

David and Merula work things out, moving in together. Though it’s odd with David still keeping at his Quidditch training and Merula now working for Gringotts as a curse-breaker. After winning the British and Irish League for the Wasps in 1993, he proposes to Merula which she accepts.

In 1994, they have a wedding in the summer time with Rowan being David’s best woman. They did plan on having kids until Cedric’s murder at the hands of Voldemort. With Quidditch cancelled and Merula being affiliated to Gringotts, both are approached to work for the Order.

Though initially very hesitant, David agrees. Eliminating Death Eaters, rescuing their hostages and even fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts.

He returns to the Quidditch scene when it starts up again in 1999, helping the Wasps win the cup three more times. 1999 is also the year in which Merula and David have their first kid, Robin. After the latest victory in 2002 he discovers Merula is pregnant again, and his retirement from Quidditch is looming on the horizon. He’s convinced by Judith Harris (@judediangelo75) to teach for a few weeks over the summer at KC’s (@kc-needs-coffee) quidditch summer camp. It’s here that he develops a love for teaching. Getting in touch with professor Flitwick to work as his assistant before becoming the Charms professor.

In early 2003, he welcomes his son Nicholas into the world.

Family

Matthew Hall (father):

Face Claim: Ben Miller

A stern but fair man and CIMA-qualified accountant originally from Yorkshire, Matthew met David’s biological mother Rue when he was on a business trip to Dublin in 1956. Encountering her in a quiet pub being told “I’ve dealt with a real dragon today” when he asked if she was okay on account of how tired she looked. Matthew took it as a joke but Rue was being entirely serious. They struck up a friendship and began dating, eventually getting married in 1961 and having Jacob in 1964.

initially, he was fascinated by the existence of the wizarding world but soon came to fear it after Jacob’s disappearance. Divorcing Rue afterwards and cutting off contact from David aside from agreeing to send child maintenance. However, after being chewed out by his girlfriend Lyra, he all but begs David to come visit him in Lancaster over Christmas in 1984.

The reason being that Amelia’s magical abilities finally began to manifest, which became a cause of conflict between David and Matthew, largely from David thinking that was the only reason he was invited. Eventually, they come to an understanding and try to work on improving their relationship.

Rue Willows (mother):

Face Claim: Fiona O’Carroll

A dragonologist from Dublin in the employ of the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau. Though she was strict, she was generally attentive towards David, being the one who taught him to draw.

After Jacob’s disappearance however, she became very withdrawn and austere. It was her way of opting for a ‘tough love’ approach, thinking she had been too soft and in her misguidance tried to control David’s life. Even then, she still grieved, frequently getting into arguments with David about his behaviour at school, bringing up Jacob when David tried to make her proud of him and other such things.

During the start of the summer break between first and second year, David finally stands up to her properly. The words that get through to her are the following, “That stranger’s name is Lyra and she’s been a better mum to me in the weeks I’ve known her than you have for me in years.” and “I love you too mum... but I don’t know if I like you anymore.”

She does a lot of soul searching after that, staying with relatives in America for a year before coming back and promising to do better with her and David’s relationship.

Lyra Booth (nee Robinson) (step-mother):

Face Claim: Ruth Wilson

A muggle and CIMA-qualified accountant originally from London, left widowed in 1980 after her first husband, Peter died in a car accident. She met Matthew when working at an accounting firm in Lancaster shortly after his divorce from Rue. After a couple months of knowing each other, the two began dating, Lyra introduced him to her children, who he hit it off well with.

She knew he had a son who he sent child maintenance to but it wasn’t revealed until Amelia accidentally made a plant pot explode in a fit of frustration that Lyra learned the truth. Consequently... she blew up at Matthew for as good as abandoning as his son. Insisting on inviting him around for Christmas.

While David was prickly when he first came around, he eventually warmed up to her and the rest of the Booths, being a positive maternal influence on him.

Jacob Hall (brother) (deceased):

Face Claim: Tom Holland

David’s only biological sibling, a gifted though trouble-making student, first became interested in the cursed vaults during his first year when he was informed about the legend by seventh year Patricia Rakepick. In his sixth year, he stood up for fellow Gryffindor Angelica Cole when she was being bullied (at the time she was a first year).

His investigation into the vaults would put him into conflict with the mysterious cult known as R. A conflict that would put his family in danger and even cost him his life.

Alex Booth (step-brother):

Face Claim: Jody Latham

The eldest of the Booth siblings, Alex is a highly protective big brother and was worried upon realising his little sister was going to be part of a world none of them had any knowledge about. He tried to make David feel welcome despite the younger boy’s hostility.

When David attempted to run away during his first stay with the Booths, Alex caught him in the act and made a deal, get past him and he wouldn’t tell anyone he’d left. Though David was tenacious, Alex stopped him every time even pointing out the flaws in David’s technique if he tried to physically fight Alex. After David finally gave up, Alex didn’t breathe a word of his run away attempt to anyone. David would take up Alex’s offer to teach him muay thai during his first visit.

Sarah Booth (step-sister):

Face Claim: Emilia Clarke

The middle child of the Booth siblings and also the least welcoming, Sarah was most vocally against Amelia being part of the wizarding world. She treated David coldly at first, going on a grouse hunting trip with her friends the day after he arrived to stay with them for Christmas.

However, at some point, she caught him reading an old copy of a Shooting Times magazine and after some persuasion by Alex, took David clay pigeon shooting. Becoming quite impressed, and even a little endeared from how quickly he picked up shooting.

Amelia Booth (step-sister):

Face Claim: Maisie Williams

A muggleborn witch and the youngest of the Booth siblings, Amelia was surprised to realise she possessed magical abilities. Though was even more shocked to learn Matthew already knew about it.

When she was five years old, she was involved in the car accident that killed her father. Resulting in her being scarred with a gash on the right side of her forehead, a similar one on her left cheek and a larger one that cuts across from shoulder to her chest. Though she repressed the memory, she did indeed see her father die, thus Thestrals are visible to her. Another thing the accident did was give her motorphobia, though can tolerate it as long as she’s A) In control of the vehicle and B) It’s not motorised.

However, she does have a love of cycling, she was taught to do so by her dad before he died. Similarly, gymnastics helped her get some of her confidence back after the accident and still keeps up with it. A love of plants and animals prompts her to excel in Herbology and Potions, then later COMC.

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Affiliations: The Circle of Khanna, The Wimborne Wasps, The Order of the Phoenix, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Professions: Beater for the Wimborne Wasps (1991-95)

Agent of the Order of the Phoenix (1995 - 98)

Resumes position as beater for the Wasps (1999-2003)

Charms Assistant Teacher (2003 - 05)

Charms Teacher (2005 - present)

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: E

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic: A

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: A

Muggle Studies: O

Quidditch:

Hufflepuff Beater (1985 - 91)

Hufflepuff Captain (after Orion graduates) (1989 - 91)

Extra Curricular:

Duelling Club (Becomes known as one of the best duellers in Hogwarts)

Art Club

Football Club (Founder)

Apparition Class (in 1991)

Favourite Professors:

Professor Sprout, his head of house and someone he feels he can go to if he needs advice. One of several people who warned him about being careful with Patricia Rakepick.

Professor Mcgonagall, his Transfiguration teacher and head of Jacob’s house when he was at Hogwarts. Though they disagree entirely on him tackling the vaults, he always pays attention in her lessons as while she’s often stern she can be a great teacher.

Professor Flitwick, as his Charms teacher, David always found Flitwick to be respectable. David especially respects Flitwick for teaching him Expelliarmus, even after he was honest in what he intended to do with it (i.e. use it in a duel against Merula). Also came for Flitwick’s help in developing Cometa.

Least Favourite Professors:

Professor Binns: Finds his droning entirely too boring and really only passed History of Magic thanks to Rowan.

Every other professor he’s either neutral on (Snape and Trelwany) or he likes but aren’t his favourites (Kettleburn).

Best Canon friends:

Rowan Khanna

Diego Caplan

Nymphadora Tonks

Penny Haywood

Chiara Lobosca

(David plus the above five make up the original members of the Hufflesquad)

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Erika Rath

Orion Amari

Badeea Ali

Barnaby Lee

Liz Tuttle

Love interest:

Erika Rath (crush)

Nymphadora Tonks (first kiss)

Liz Tuttle (dated briefly in third year but broke things off fairly amicably when they realised they were developing crushes on other people).

Merula Snyde (began dating in fourth year, later marries David in 1994)

Best MC friends:

Judith Harris (@judediangelo75): The closest of his MC friends, David and Judith first get acquainted by being pushed into friendship... somewhat subtly by Penny Haywood. Both of them catch on when Penny mentions they should try out for the Quidditch team. Both of them still go for it, bonding over a shared love of martial arts and proving they have the potential to be fearsome beaters.

Throughout their time at Hogwarts, David and Judith would demonstrate a fierce loyalty to each other, being as close as siblings. David even becoming godfather to her children, Bakari and Kendrick.

Cato Reese (@catohphm): David was first introduced to Cato by Penny. The two find themselves sharing very similar values, having a great love their friends and absolute ruthlessness towards their enemies.

Like anyone involved in the Quidditch scene at Hogwarts, David has a bit of a rivalry with him. Tending to trash talk him (though with no real weight behind it), Cato understands that David doesn’t mean it.

Katriona Cassiopea (KC) (@kc-needs-coffee): The two of them are sports fanatics, they could talk to each other for hours about Quidditch. While David definitely knows more about footy, he’s eager to learn about any sport, such as baseball which KC is highly knowledgeable about.

KC would be one of the first to jump at the football matches David organises during his time at Hogwarts.

Lizzie Jameson (@lifeofkaze): Like David, Lizzie is an avid fan of LFC. Even meeting up at some point with their respective partners to watch a footy match at Anfield, where Liverpool were playing.

On the quidditch pitch, Lizzie is a chaser and knows she can count on David to keep the bludgers off her back.

If any of your MCs would want to be friends with David, let me know!

Rivals:

Merula Snyde (For most of his time at Hogwarts).

During Quidditch: Erika Rath, Skye Parkin, Andre Egwu, Charlie Weasley, Angelica Cole, Oliver Wood, Cato Reese and Katriona Cassiopea.

Enemies:

R (including Patricia Rakepick, Fenrir Greyback and Peter Pettigrew).

The Snyde family (minus Merula)

Voldemort

Death Eaters

Magical Abilities

1st Wand: Blackthorn, unicorn hair core, ten and a quarter inches, slightly springy and flexible. Snaps it in half shortly just before the end of sixth year, citing, “What kind of warrior can’t even protect his own brother?”

Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view very well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior.

Unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts. They are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard. Minor disadvantages of unicorn hair are that they do not make the most powerful wands (although the wand wood may compensate) and that they are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may ‘die’ and need replacing.

2nd Wand: English Oak, Dragon Heartstring core, twelve and a half inches, unbending.

A wand for the good times and bad, this is a friend as loyal as the wizard who deserves it. Wands of English Oak demand partners of strength, courage and fidelity. Obtained from Garrick Ollivander while being accompanied by Alastor Moody.

As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.

Animagus form: A ram, specifically of a Dalesbred Sheep. Rams symbolise determination, initiative and leadership, factors that are put to the test more than once during his time at Hogwarts.

Misc magical abilities: Legilimens, Rue informs him of potentially inheriting her legilimens ability between third year and fourth year when he tells her of his delve into the Vault of Fear. David prefers not using it on people, rather using it to see through the eyes of animals as his great grandfather Reuben used to do.

Occlumency: Snape, at Dumbledore’s behest begins teaching David the art of Occlumency in fifth year.

Non-verbal magic: David began learning the non-verbal use of magic in fifth year thanks to professor Flitwick. Becoming highly skilled in it by his seventh year.

Spell creation: Assists in the creation of Stella Cascadia alongside Badeea Ali. Given how dangerous the vaults could be, he begins to work on another spell inspired by Stella Cascadia alongside several of his friends, Cometa, the comet jinx.

Boggart Form: Initially, Jacob as a death eater after hearing about the rumours of him taking Voldemort’s side.

From year four onwards, himself as a dark wizard as he worries about the path the vaults will set him on.

Riddikulus Form: Death eater Jacob’s mask turns into a pie that promptly splats him in the face.

Later, his dark wizard self in the uniform of Everton Football Club with a blue clown nose and wig to match. Since he’s a Liverpool Football Club supporter, seeing himself in one his rival team’s colours as a clown is hilarious to him.

Amortentia (what do they smell like?): A sea breeze and heather.

Amortentia (what do they smell?): Freshly mown grass and clear air after a rainfall.

Patronus: African wild dog, a symbol of his loyalty and relentless pursuit of his goals.

Patronus memory: -Attending the LFC vs Nottingham Forest semi final match of the Football League Cup at Anfield on the 12th February 1980 with his dad and Jacob. They drew 1-1 and LFC didn’t get through to the final but David was still happy to be there with both them.

Mirror of Erised: Jacob being back, alongside all of his friends and family. All of them are safe and well.

Specialised/ favourite spells:

Cometa, a spell that David creates in sixth year with the help of Badeea Ali, Rowan Khanna, Merula Snyde, Diego Caplan and professor Flitwick. Inspired by Stella Cascadia, and using some principles from the Ice Jinx, the spell initially creates cricket ball-sized pieces of ice that explode into a mist when they impact against something. This makes it especially useful for blinding or disorienting a target. Later they develop the more-powerful Cometa Maxima in seventh year. Its main limitations are maintaining eye contact directed at the target (as is the case for all jinxes) and its general range is quite short (about twenty five feet) due to the “comet” (really a mix of ice, dust and gases) disintegrating quite quickly.

Protego Diabolica, A spell taught to him by Felix Rosier in sixth year, nothing says “Get away from my friends!” Like a massive wall of blue flame that incinerates enemies and leaves allies unharmed.

Expelliarmus, the Disarming charm taught to David by Professor Flitwick in first year is one of his go-to spells when duelling.

Protego, learned in order to protect himself from spells and other projectiles.

Healing spells: Largely taught to him by Chiara throughout their time at Hogwarts, healing spells have come in handy more than once when he needs to preserve his own or his friend’s lives.

Expecto Patronum, though niche, a spell that can get rid of a dementor is nothing to scoff at. Plus it’s a sentimental reminder of his friendship with Tonks.

Incendio, good as a fire-starter and a duelling spell, also reminds him of a time when Merula stood up to Rita Skeeter for him by burning her camera.

Misc Information

-David is a huge supporter of Liverpool Football Club (LFC), so much so one of his casuals is a club uniform.

-As well as Needle, David has other creatures on the reserve, Lucky (Knarl), Clop (Porlock), Bonita (fairy), Mori (thestral), and Chen (Chinese fireball).

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #jacob's sibling #david willows #hphm mc

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millennialdemon · 4 years ago

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Coming off of true trainwrecks the likes of Mars of Destruction and Skelter Heaven, I actually came out of Dark Cat with a sense of respect and gratitude for its competence.

For the uninitiated, Dark Cat is a notoriously bad OVA from 1991 that you will see listed in many Worst Anime Ever countdowns. It follows 2 brothers, “dark cats” Hyoi and Rui, who investigate supernatural happenings and purify evil with their somewhat undefined powers of shapeshifting and increased strength/agility. The majority of the story in the OVA is about a school girl named Aimi, who is pining after her childhood friend Koizumi, who since the rejection and sudden death of his crush, has been suffering a depressive episode and ignoring her. Hyoi and Rui sense dark forces are manifesting at the school, and they keep an eye on Aimi while fighting off the increasingly brazen appearances of demonic enemies.

A monstrous ex-dark cat named Jukokubo is revealed to be manipulating Aimi with his dark powers, and Hyoi and Rui fight him, but not before Aimi succumbs to the evil magic -- as well as her own violent jealousy and overprotectiveness of Koizumi -- and transforms into a horrific tentacle monster that kills seemingly everyone in the school.

In the end, Koizumi realizes that Aimi was in love with him the entire time, and doesn’t fight her when she engulfs him completely. Apparently this act of selfless love was enough to purify them both, and although they do indeed die, their souls are “light” and able to ascend. This throws a wrench in Jukokubo’s plan to prove that humans are The Worst, so he turns tail and leaves his boss fight against Hyoi, threatening to return again. In the epilogue, Hyoi and Rui reflect on the mission and wax poetic about the nature of humanity while crossing a busy street.

… Ehm… happy ending, yes?

Now then: there are actually quite a few things I enjoyed about Dark Cat, and they are all very simple things that I had come to miss after days of watching other entries from the Bottom of the Barrel.

It had a narrative, and was -- mostly -- comprehensible in its storytelling, as rushed as it may have been. There was an undeniable presence of an art director, something I’m not convinced was present in a few of the other similarly rated titles I have seen. Some of the shots were noticeably well composed and even clever, and required an artistic vision and some decent effort to create. The animation wasn’t awful, the designs ranged from serviceable to genuinely charming (I like the subtlety of Hyoi and Rui’s cat-like features!), and I liked that the characters actually emoted. It wasn’t as generic as I expected and took some risks, even if they didn’t pay off and left it with a reputation of being “too grotesque to be enjoyable”.

I can understand the common criticisms of the gore and body horror being poorly animated, but I won’t decry it for existing and “being ugly”... of course it’s ugly, it’s body horror reminiscent of The Thing from The Thing. (Now would be a good time to warn people not to look this OVA up, unless they are sure they are okay with body horror and gore of this calibre. Tentacles with teeth and spines rip out of people’s skin from the inside and deform their hosts, it is quite awful! I would also include a warning for trypophobia -- there are shots where the mutations form clusters of holes on the skin.) The body horror in Dark Cat being disgusting and making my skin crawl isn’t a fault -- I think it’s the intended purpose. Though I will concede that:

The phallic imagery of the horrific flesh mutations, particularly that of the teacher who attacked Rui, was… bizarre, considering that otherwise the OVA isn’t particularly dark in tone or otherwise sexually graphic.

Perhaps having grotesque body horror is completely unexpected in a story about two bishounen teens (?) who can turn into cats and fight ghosts.

Yes, Dark Cat, the OVA put on Worst Anime Ever lists for being a grotesque spectacle, is just as commonly placed on those lists for being a dumb anime about guys that can transform into house cats and who fight supernatural entities with not so amazing powers. This is a gripe I’ve seen in a few popular reviews, but there was no point during my watching experience that I thought, “Man, these teens are pansies, they don’t even turn into big scary lions or anything! What’s the point, it’s practically a power-down! cinemasins ding” because I don’t go into anime expecting every single male character I see to be Big & Strong & Cool, because I uh… don’t have brain worms I guess? I don’t know what to say about this criticism really, other than people who watch a lot of shounen have very strange hang ups about super powers.

Otherwise, it seems the biggest reason Dark Cat is lauded as One of the Worst -- perhaps even ahead of the silly concept and nauseating gore -- is actually because of the abysmal english dub. It’s my honour to say that I didn’t watch the dub, so it doesn’t factor in at all into my impressions!

So in the end, perhaps my only true gripes with Dark Cat are:

Despite having no particular issue with body horror and gore existing, the extent of destruction and graphic death gave the OVA a bit of a snuff film vibe.

The conclusion to the story was quite bad.

It could be surmised by the brief plot outline I wrote earlier that Dark Cat isn’t a very complicated story. Demons and ghosts exist and wreak havoc on emotionally vulnerable humans, and supernatural soldiers try to mediate between the realms by purifying tortured ghosts and saving those dragged into darkness by evil entities. These beats are common in the supernatural genre of anime, but Dark Cat’s handling of its tragic morality tale left me more confused than anything.

Koizumi didn’t do anything wrong -- he shouldn’t have had to die for the sin of not reciprocating Aimi’s feelings, nor for developing depression after the rejection and death of his classmate and crush. Aimi… did things wrong, but was nevertheless the most compelling character in the OVA. Throughout Aimi was kind, patient, and forgiving when it came to being treated badly by Koizumi. In the finale however, it is revealed that Aimi was the one responsible for Koizumi’s crush’s death, assumedly having murdered her out of jealousy or out of revenge on Koizumi’s behalf for hurting his feelings. Prior to this, the first students to be killed by the tentacle monsters just happened to be the ones that had bullied Koizumi in class earlier that day -- implying that Aimi was getting revenge on them, as well.

It was with these revelations that I started to wonder: Why not just let the flesh monster manifest as a direct result of Aimi’s negative feelings? Aimi confessed to murdering Koizumi’s crush before the events of the OVA -- would she have done so if she wasn’t being influenced by the malignant force set on her by Jukokubo? I feel that her arc would have been much more interesting without the introduction of a non-compelling and badly designed villain like Jukokubo, because then we would know it was all her. Even if she was influenced by forces exacerbating her pre-existing jealousy and rage, that is a more satisfying option than having a big dumb green cat of a villain to trace everything back to so neatly.

And really, what did Jukokubo do in the story beyond take the spotlight, and the blame, from Aimi? He had some previous relation to Hyoi and Rui, but it’s not developed at all, and his ideological rivalry with Hyoi was trivial. Hyoi could have come to the same conclusions about holding out hope for humanity without Jukokubo there to insist he be a guest to debate on his political podcast.

The lack of accountability regarding Aimi is a part of why the resolution to her conflict with Koizumi feels so wrong -- he succumbs to her feelings because he realizes the evil was born from her suffering, and he feels that he has to sacrifice himself to make up for unknowingly hurting her so much that she turned into a monster from hell. In the end she is absolved via being purified and getting to die with her spirit entwined with Koizumi’s, and he apologizes for having not recognized how he was hurting her.

Aimi kills his crush, kills his bullies, and ends up -- inadvertently, at least -- killing almost all of their classmates, because she was tilted about her childhood friend not realizing she had romantic feelings for him. And when Koizumi learns all of this, he apologizes and dies with her, and this is proof of humanity’s goodness? The dark clouds part and the rain stops and Aimi and Koizumi ascend in a heavenly ray of light, because he decided, while she was devouring him, that he was wrong to ignore his murderous best friend’s love for him?

I guess it’s fine -- it was probably mostly Jukokubo’s fault anyway, and everyone was just an unfortunate victim of his meddling… 😒

Other than the bad writing, the string of deaths that happen in the finale when the monster lets loose in the school are quite uncomfortable to behold. Deformed student bodies are splayed and strewn around classrooms, and the bullies are rendered into unrecognizable mounds of pulsating flesh in their homes. The violence of a fight against a monster like this, I can handle, but the graphic images of helpless death were difficult to stomach. And in this OVA, there is no miraculous reversal of the demon’s damage once it is purified -- there is no implication whatsoever that everyone who died isn’t still just as dead as Aimi and Koizumi in the end.

The main thing I was actually worried about when I watched Dark Cat was that there would be sexual assault, thanks to reviewers griping it for “generic hentai tentacles”. I am relieved to say that there is none, at least not insofar as deserving a comparison to actual porn. There is sexual content scattered throughout the horror scenes: The occasionally phallic appearance of the tentacles, shots of the tentacles coming down from under skirts, and there is one shot of nudity when Aimi’s shirt is ripped open as she transforms, though I would say it’s too horrific and ugly to be sexualized or otherwise considered “fanservice”.

What is the point of the hits of sex imagery in Dark Cat? I have no idea. This isn’t Alien, it isn’t about the horror of sexual assault or the violence of creation -- though the main horror of the scene where Rui is ambushed by the teacher seems to be that she uses magic to seduce him, only to reveal a very phallic tentacle from her mouth that she means to kill (or infect…?) him with, which can have multiple, potentially offensive readings… it is a one off, however -- and there doesn’t seem to be any moral posturing about it as is often seen in slashers. I couldn’t parse any sort of consistent STI allegory regarding the plague of tentacles upon the student body, despite how many summaries I have read that describe the tentacles as that, a “plague”.

… I realize I am probably the only person on earth to give any aspect of Dark Cat’s production this much thought. To sum up: It seems to just exist for the shock value. Considering the extent of disgusting imagery already present a la The Gore and Deformation of Human Bodies, I don’t think this OVA benefitted from featuring some explicit looking tendrils, beyond cementing its abhorrent reputation.

Is this all to say that I think Dark Cat is a good OVA? No, of course not. It’s tone deaf, and tasteless, and has awkward pacing and bad writing. But compared to the utterly soulless and artistically devoid works the likes of Skelter Heaven and Mars of Destruction, I would say the fact I was able to write this much about Dark Cat is testament to that fact that it at the very least, contains content -- and some of that content was like, decent! Skelter+Heaven was such a mess it was all I could do to understand the sequence of events, and Mars of Destruction was so bland I literally have no posts about it on the blog despite watching it more than once. Psychic Wars was a snoozefest I barely finished that similarly has no mention on the blog, and Hanoka’s production gimmick couldn’t save it from being a totally forgettable romance story.

Therefore, Dark Cat is the best worst title I have seen thus far, by virtue of being executed with an average amount of competency for an OVA from the early 90s, and for having a balance of good and bad elements that gave me something to hold onto and mull over after viewing.

3/10.

Oh, and I loved the bad 80s insert songs.

#:Dark Cat #dark cat #2138 words later the verdict is. It was ok

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sadviper · 4 years ago

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2020 Creator Wrap: Favorite Works

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Succumbing to peer pressure, haha, thank you @rain-hat, @smylealong, @ibelongtomousse, @macgyver-sheriff, @avauntus for tagging me~

It seems the common refrain is that this was the year everyone exploded into massive creative productivity after years of nothing, which is the exact same story for myself. I had read all the strategies of course: write 5 min a day, 1 sketch a day, don’t think about quality, do *something* just to keep the spark alive, etc etc, but it just got worse and worse. Honestly, I had been feeling so dire about it that I had made up my mind to stop trying anymore, because it was so depressing to try and fail so many times that it was much better to not hope at all.

Buuuuut.....then quarantine and telework happened, and woooah, guess what, all I needed was LOTS of time and space to myself where I’m not wasting it in an office checking emails and doing random training to fill all the downtime!!!

Much thanks to the serendipity that had me stumbling into @rain-hat , reading her early JY/KSR fics, and her encouraging me to go ahead and write that office yearly budget oneshot for TKEM (who writes BUDGET fics?? Who reads them???? lol). That’s not in my list here because it was very new and awkward, it was definitely the ball that got everything rolling.

Cut for super long-winded rambling:

1) Before There Was Zero (TKEM)

This was my first big fanfic in my life, and my most popular, and it absolutely gushed out of me in this massive torrent of *I MUST WRITE* where I would walk around at lunchtime giggling to myself, and type on my phone as I went, or wake up at 1am to scrawl something in a notebook in the dark because I couldn’t stop the words from coming. (How I miss that feeling now! ;__;) Actually, it also is the 2nd fully complete long-form story I had ever completed as well, so...lots of milestones here.

Looking back, it clearly was the product of my years of bottled up silence, where I stewed and dragged myself to the office every day wondering if I was going to calcify in a bureaucracy for the rest of my life (yes). But even as an office drone, I learned a lot of valuable lessons in how to manage, what leadership actually is at the worker bee level, the types of games white-collar workers play, and how to be a decent co-worker (and by extension, a decent human being--I don’t believe it’s possible to separate work life and private life. All your personas are you). It wasn’t all a waste after all!

Somehow I connected my day-to-day to the faceless, long-suffering Royal guardsmen in TKEM, headed by the utterly gorgeous, devastating, thoroughly underutilized, comedic prop military action star Jo Yeong, and thought--yeah! :D

2) Nil Desperandum (TKEM)

My biggest fic by far, full novel length at this point, massive in scope, I don’t even know how I came up with it based on the 10 collective seconds of screen time that Jeong Tae-ra and tyrant Jin got as a joke, but I was clearly still on that dam-gushing-pent-up-creative-high because this idea was fighting me when I was in the middle of writing “Before There Was Zero”.

I actually figured out the title while watching “Call the Midwives” where one of the peppy, indefatigable British nurses said to never despair, and I thought, yes, that’s it. All the horrible things I put my tyrantverse characters through, it was only so that when I save them at the end, it will be completely worth it. It’s a bit more violent (nothing beyond My Country levels tho) and quite emotionally dark, but I also tried to inject a lot of friendship, humor, and love into it as well, because there must always be hope.

For My Country fandom friends who didn’t realize, the tyrant!Yeong in this fic is essentially modernAU!Seon-ho, and I lifted Sung-rok entirely from My Country to be tyrant!Yeong’s second-in-command and loyal-superstar-extraordinaire. Writing them in this modern AU, and seeing the positive reception to Sung-rok’s grouchy, dogged devotion was the start of my love spiral for Sung-rok. <3 <3

3) The Veritable Records of King Taejo (My Country)

Going to cheat and lump 3 fics (soon to be 4) into one link. I rested a little bit after “Nil Desperandum” because I had completely emptied myself out at that point, just a husk of an author shell. Then I started poking out oneshots! Each one got progressively harder to write, lol, the creative gas tank was running out of juice, so I had to really start figuring out new strategies as a writer to keep going. One magic tool was coercing recruiting @rain-hat to beta for me, and WOW, THE BEST???? Who would’ve thought it’d be FUN to be edited!!! <3 Due to her efforts, I could avoid the “no beta we die like Liaodong” tag, hahaha.

I grew up watching cop shows, lawyer shows, monster-of-the-day shows, endless procedurals-- so I was super miffed that the drama would imply that Seon-ho spent YEARS just single-mindedly chasing private armies??! No! I want more family and friends development for this sad, dramatic whump child! I want him to be smarter than the show, inherently brilliant despite the stupid he descends into, and be recognized as such by the people who do recognize his value! And I want them all to be happy with no pointless death!

Also, the 4th WIP is now a Sung-rok lovefest written as an ode to his awesomeness, has stretched to 47K+ words, and is being an absolute royal pain to finish. ;__; All the ease and creative fervor from earlier? GONE. I’m a lone salmon flopping upstream on a ladder. I might get eaten before I finish laying my eggs. Any one have tips to get over this?

4) First Translation of Woo Do Hwan Japanese Interviews

More firsts! So much thanks to @ibelongtomousse to inspiring and encouraging me to do some real translating after talking to her about her sublime TKEM fics and translations thereof, and @staidwaters from emerging from the Internet depths to boost/correct my neophyte efforts! I’m now chomping at the bit to do more, even though I may ultimately discover that these interviews have absolutely nothing interesting to say, lol. But my first priority is simply to get better at the language, and 2nd priority is to soak in the words (and photos) of Woo Do Hwan, hahahah. Also, as far as I can tell, no one is filling this niche, so I guess I’ll keep going??

5) Fanart!

I started drawing again! As a procrastination tactic from writing oneshots, but it still was really nice to see that I hadn’t lost the touch entirely. I feel like I’ve mentioned this here and there, but writing wasn’t my first interest--drawing was. Animals first, then people once I discovered anime/manga. I went all into drawing comics, only to face the hard reality that I didn’t know how to tell a story end-to-end. Hence how I started trying to write. Along the way, things happened--I got RSI and had to stop drawing/writing for awhile. I discovered that pictures are NOT worth a thousand words, esp when it comes to long-form comics; my preferred tools of trade (dip pens) ended up exacerbating my RSI problems; then once I got a handle on my RSI, I found I could type faster than I can ever draw, and so here I am. I saw what @convenientalias was doing with their My Country werewolf fic though, so I am excited to try that for my Sung-rok WIP? :D

I think I’m the last hold out among artist/writer friends in answering this wrap-up, hope you enjoyed reading!

#meme #fic meta #2020 accomplishments

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 5 years ago

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Soulsborne!Frozen AU: Great Knight Annatorias, the Abyss Walker

This is @jabs-wocks and @daughterofhel’s fault but I’m also @-ing myself because apparently I don’t need much encouragement to write stories sometimes so…

Before getting started, this entire 3.5k (yes, that's the correct number) brain-on-fire, sleep depriving idea, was inspired by two pieces by @azaffranist and one by twitter user @agongbushou. I highly recommend checking the linked art out before reading, since I reference them at times directly.

Okay Soulsborne!Frozen au, Anna is Knight Artorias, legendary fighter, sent to the Abyss to seek and destroy the Darkness of the world itself.

No pressure or anything.

Anna is a brave hearted woman, shoulder to shoulder with those who fought and killed nigh immortal dragons. Her kind pluck such foul creatures from the sky with arrows larger than trees, with lightning more forked than a hurricane, and slay enemies with the kindness of silver and gold-tipped daggers.

Her own mighty broadsword swings over her left shoulder with ease, a smile on her lips as she walks. The Age of Fire is upon them, but there is fear in the hearts of the gods, and to save those who would, without help, succumb to the evil inside of them Great Knight Anna will stop at nothing.

There are monsters to kill, perverted and misguided souls, each one more disturbing and profane than the last, as each is born from the Abyss itself, a dark, treacherous place where no mortal would dare tread. The city of Oolacile is threatened, sinking slowly into Darkness as an ancient, promethean man eats it from the inside out.

But Anna holds courage in her heart, and should she need a reminder of strength or solace, she need only look to her right and Elsa, her direwolf companion, is next to her, ice-blue eyes speaking more than a voice ever could. Her pure white fur makes the Darkness shrink, her frost-like Light magic a boon in the most murky corridor. Elsa has a nose for danger, and can conjure crystals to warn of dangerous earth, poisoned water, a new rash of weather over the mountains, or the lurking threat of fire. Her pelt is soft and warm, and in the mountains where they camp she’s as cozy as a bonfire, her fluffy tail wrapped around Anna’s middle as the Knight snoozes against her side.

With such skill and determination, and pureness of heart, Anna is more than well equipped to fight the Darkness, especially when Elsa is with her every step of the way.

The Abyss calls itself Manus and it is a nightmare.

For the first time, Anna is overwhelmed. She is battered against the walls of this cave, she is clawed and crushed and flogged with fists of pure Darkness. Her ears ring with primal screams. Elsa’s magic is no more effective than her teeth, and Anna watches as her companion lunges at the Manus’ middle, watches how the Darkness warps impossibly, sees a hand of incredible size form above Elsa’s unprotected back. Anna moves.

She does not feel her arm shatter (that pain will come later) but she hears it, cracking and shredding and splintering, heedless of muscle and skin.

The shield’s magic forces Manus back, screeching into the Dark. A brief respite.

Elsa pants hard, the concussive force of the hit rattling already exhausted bones, empty of energy and magic. Anna knows Elsa will not survive another blow. She is still young, a pup, and deserves to grow, large and strong. A pelt, a life, as bright as Elsa’s should not be swallowed by the Dark.

Anna speaks the runes and the shield ignites with Light, protecting Elsa from the Abyss forever, but also protecting Elsa from following Anna as she hefts her greatsword in her off hand and limps back towards the sound of Manus’ roars. She closes her ears to Elsa’s pitiful cries.

The Dark would not claim another victim.

But it does.

-----

Whatever thou art, stay away.

Soon I will be consumed by ‘Them’, by the Dark.

All of you… forgive me. For I have availed you nothing.

-----

Hundreds of years later Elsa’s ears pick up the sound of an interloper in the graveyard. She rouses herself, shaking rainwater from her coat. The snowflake mark on her brow has dulled, no longer lively purple but a morose kind of brown, the color of bloodied earth long dry.

Elsa is tired. Thieves keep coming to steal what is most precious to her. Could they not see the weapons of their fellows littered on the ground? Monuments to greed, pillars of failure each one of them, a blade planted vertically in the dirt next to small, unmarked headstones. Don’t they see? They seek an object that will only kill them, the wicked artifact that allowed Anna to walk into the Abyss unharmed, only for claws of black to tear her asunder. The cursed item that allowed Anna’s fate.

No one should have the power to throw themselves so willingly onto Death’s sword.

As the thief approaches Anna’s enormous headstone, reaches their hand out to touch Anna’s greatsword, Elsa makes her presence known. She is a formidable sight: a fully grown Great Wolf, she towers, mountainous, over this puny looter. Anger shoots through Elsa, igniting her limbs as she leaps down and tears Anna’s weapon from the dirt. Again. To stop one so desperate to kill themselves. Again.

Elsa howls at the moon, anguish and guilt and fury clashing within her.

Let Anna rest, her work is done. Do not walk in her footsteps, as there lies only suffering.

She repositions the sword in her mouth and swings, long and sweeping as she has seen Anna do many times before.

Blood stains the rocky headstones in crimson arcs.

----

Elsa awakes yet again and everything has changed.

It is dark, unnaturally so. There is no graveyard, there are no trees, no whisper of wind through her coat. She is flat on her back and there is a strange man in a wheelchair to her right, telling her things. Yharnam? An Outsider? He mentions blood and suddenly Elsa’s nose is filled with it, cloying and pressing against her. How had she not noticed it before?

How also had she not noticed she was strapped to a bed?

He begins his so-called transfusion and Elsa sees that her feet do not end in paws and her tail is missing. Her teeth are no longer sharp as she tests them with her tongue and her muzzle does not like to growl but to grumble, too short to carry the sound forward.

But she does not have time to contemplate this as her vision blurs and she falls backwards into the dark once more.

A Beast of blood emerges from the floor but Elsa feels no kinship with it. The Beast is twisted and wrong, and as it reaches out to touch her it bursts into flame, screaming. Perhaps her Light magic still works here… or perhaps Anna’s shield is still bound to her, after all this time. For surely that creature is borne of the Abyss.

So too must these small pygmy-like wretches crawling up her stomach and chest. Fear jolts through Elsa’s heart as these pale things are not deflected by magic and instead reach her head and cover her eyes. A voice whispers in her mind.

“Ah… you’ve found a hunter…”

Anna?

The Hunter’s Dream is serene and soft compared to the Night eating Yharnam alive. Here there are flowers, a pleasant breeze that does not carry wails, and though there are graves it seems a peaceful place of rest for all, not just the dead.

And this is where Elsa finds her.

Anna. Her Knight, her long lost friend, lying against the garden wall. Her eyes are closed, peaceful in sleep. Elsa approaches with great joy but… something is wrong.

Anna… doesn’t smell like Anna. Elsa presses her nose against the woman’s cheek, just to be sure, but is chastised by the man inside a house at the top of the steps, the one who must have brought her here. Elsa remembers a piercing pain in her chest followed by a long dark like a heavy blanket, deep and inevitable. Perhaps she died the night of the thief, and this world is simply the next one. Anna, or perhaps not-Anna, has not stirred in the slightest to Elsa’s presence, and with another beckoning of the old man, Elsa realizes this is a mystery to be put aside for the moment. Besides, Anna is peaceful in this state, and… she was not peaceful the last time Elsa saw her. Maybe this is where she has been sleeping all along, as Elsa watched over her grave in the other world.

Elsa slowly gets used to walking on two legs, though she always misses her tail, expecting it on the back of her calves every other step. She is both taller and shorter than she feels she should be but the little pygmies do not laugh when she misses her target because of this. In fact they are friendly, bringing her trinkets at times. She understands them a little, as they too are non-verbal. Human language still eludes her, though Elsa realizes she has now, the ability to speak it, as clearly and easily as she used to speak to Anna with just her movements. No one seems to mind her silence, and in turn she feels no need to break it.

Except for the Doll.

That’s what the man calls her, the not-Anna. Now awake, she is kind and gentle, and while her warmth kindles familiarity in Elsa’s soul, it is not enough like the bonfire of a spirit Knight Anna always possessed. Though she shares Anna’s face, her voice is thinner, like a creek through reeds, shallow like music from another room. If this is what her Anna has been reduced to, then Elsa will care for her as she always has, her silent companion. But it is the only time Elsa wishes she could speak, align her muzzle and teeth and tongue in the right order for speech. But she, the Doll… Anna… this woman, seems to read Elsa’s eyes well enough, and always wishes her wellness and luck in her hunts.

The Yharnam Elsa now stalks may be new, but it is not unfamiliar. There are monsters here too, but they are not undead but Beasts, sick like the Darkness made humans sick. The town conjures a feeling of familiar unease, it is like Oolacile being consumed all over again. Elsa has been given a strange blade: a cane-sword, they called it a trick weapon. It has a different kind of grace than Anna’s greatsword, but Elsa can admire its stinging, erratic bite as it curls around shields and tears flesh with the same ease as her old jaw.

Elsa resigns herself to the Doll, this copy of Anna, a pale comparison but not an unkind one. Until the day she learns of Lady Anna, an Old Hunter, experienced slayer, and roaming ghost of Yharnam. The man tells Elsa that Lady Anna wishes to exterminate Beasts so that people can live in peace, forever, and she is as ruthless as she is discerning, relentless in her quest. Even the Doll has nothing but admiration in her too-soft voice for this person.

Elsa needs to meet this her, and sets out immediately. She sounds… very much like Great Knight Anna: firmly set in her beliefs and desire for goodness and peace in her grisly work, but Elsa swallows the glass-like shards of hope rising in her throat. Disappointment would be its own kind if dying.

She finds her in the Clock Tower. The likeness is uncanny, but if the Doll was an enthusiastic replacement, this body was a carbon copy. The swallowed glass gets lodged, stabbing into Elsa’s heart, but still, she dared not hope. This person, Lady Anna, was so… still. Knight Anna was never still, so much boundless energy, so much eagerness, the will to do good, to make safe haven, sometimes even robbed her of sleep. The woman sitting in a lonesome chair is not like that at all, she is calm, collected.

Perhaps she is dead.

Indeed, Lady Anna is covered in blood and Elsa does not see her chest breathe, not even an inch. Tentatively she reaches out a hand. Oh, now this would be cruel indeed - to find her Knight only for her to be dead and bloodless and empty of everything once again.

The vice-like grip around her wrist shocks Elsa from her thoughts.

“A corpse… should be left well alone.” A corpse, a corpse!? But Lady Anna is so very alive and her voice--

Unmistakable.

But quickly Elsa realizes she’s fighting for her life. There’s so much noise and movement and blood, so much blood it reeks. Lady Anna’s swings seem to come from nowhere, fire igniting in the wake of every slash and it’s dazzling and swift and uncanny… and yet.

Her stance may be foreign but her prowess is not, she directs her weapons with grace and skill, and the blades dance towards Elsa’s throat with a precision borne from battle hardened assurance.

Just like a knight. Just like Anna with her greatsword.

Suddenly Lady Anna is upon her, grabbing Elsa’s collar and pulling, clutching Elsa to her chest. It’s rough and unfriendly but Elsa knows deep down this is new and startling for both of them. Anna’s breathing is ragged despite her absolute dominance over the battlefield, her voice shaking with some burdening magnitude.

“I know you,” Lady Anna whispers in her ear.

And Elsa, having not made a sound this entire time except in exhaustion or pain, gets her too short tongue working and too small teeth out of the way to say, “And I know you. You are Lady Anna, protector of Yharnam, slayer of the Darkness that lurks in the hearts of men to make them Beasts, and you have done well to make a name for yourself here. But all of that I know only because I found myself here, in a Dream. When I was young, and Awake, I knew you as Great Knight Anna, warrior against the Darkness itself, and you held in your powerful grip a sword as tall as you so that you could always slay something larger than yourself. It flashed as brightly as your smile until it could no more. And the last I saw you was when I had no shared language to warn you, no voice to scream in grief as your arm shattered and yielded to profane horror. Despite your broken body you used your only able limb to shield me against death itself, magical and eternal. But it kept me from you, and you walked back into the Dark where I could not follow and then there was the most terrible quiet. I saw someone go in afterwards, and only then did I hear your voice again, but as it was never meant to be: broken and hollow and defeated. Dark.”

Lady Anna’s hand shakes, her other poised over Elsa’s heart. It could drive right through her chest, seek the Beast in Elsa’s blood and rip it out. But perhaps it was there before the infusion, one of kindred spirit instead of illness and madness. Anna releases her hold without warning and Elsa’s knees hit the ground hard.

“I… have felt a loneliness for so long,” Lady Anna says, almost to herself. “I have searched for years, every nook and cranny, guided by nothing but some deep knowledge of a phantom ‘other’ by my side, etched so deeply it could be in my very own blood. But this presence, this… twin soul, has never showed itself.” She looks at her swords. “They did not used to split, it was one weapon, until I could not stomach the void anymore. I threw it away, and fashioned these. They… somehow I knew I needed two. There were supposed to be two. Two… of… us.”

Elsa goes to answer but the words tangle in her mouth, gargled and guttural and rough. Speech flees from her again, focus gone, and Elsa clutches her throat, gasping. Lady Anna twitches, hands tightening on her weapons.

Anna’s voice holds the tension of a tripwire. “You--... She... I gave someone a name once. My closest friend. She had unique Light magic: small diamonds, blue, beautiful.” Her eyes flashed with her steel. “Show me. Tell me her name, or be not Hunter but Beast.”

And Elsa does.

The Clock Tower fills with floating diamonds, glittering and bright, etched with symbols of safety and protection and Light. They move and spin, arranging themselves into a shape, not a Yharnam rune but an older one, one only Anna would know. Elsa’s name in the language of the Age of Fire.

Anna drops her swords, clattering to the floor and embraces Elsa with arms so fierce and desperate that Elsa cannot breathe, until Anna’s shoulders slump and hitch with sobs and now Elsa holds Anna with tired, grateful hands.

“I thought…,” Anna manages, trembling in Elsa’s grasp, “I thought it was a Dream. All that before… really happened.” Anna clutches at Elsa’s clothes, like burying fingers in thick fur, “I have missed you every moment of my death, including all the seconds from when I Awoke without you, until now.”

Elsa wipes Anna’s tears away, clumsy in her joy but her eyes say everything her stubborn tongue won’t, and it is just like before, when she knows Anna understands her completely.

“In my defense,” Anna sniffs, regaining a bit of control, “I thought you’d be taller. And well, you were a wolf the last time we met.”

Elsa can’t help but smile at that, lending Anna an arm as they stand. The smile turns into quite the wolfish grin indeed when they realize at the same time that Elsa is in fact, an inch or so taller than Anna.

“You really did grow up without me, didn’t you?” Anna says wistfully, as though to chastise for leaving her behind.

Elsa makes a huffing sound that they both know is laughter and presses her forehead against Anna’s.

Finally. Her Knight. Her Lady.

Her home.

This time, neither will face the Darkness alone.

------

Alternate Endings, courtesy of questions asked by @daughterofhel (who patiently let me tell the ENTIRE story of Artorias and Sif AND the Good Hunter and the Doll and Lady Maria to contextualize this… entire… thing)

-Lady Maria!Anna is not immune to Beast blood like in canon and after joining up with Sif!Elsa actually succumbs to the plague and goes feral. Their roles are now reversed, Elsa is the badass Hunter with a Beast companion. They still know each other well enough to communicate but are ostracized from the other Hunters because Elsa refuses to kill Anna

-Because Elsa was a creature in her past life, the Beast blood takes hold very naturally, and it does not change her personality or sense of self. Lady Anna reclaims her greatsword trick weapon and travels Yharnam with Elsa by her side, now a were-beast. The magical snowflake on her forehead comes back and her fur is the same white/white-blonde as when she was a Great Wolf

-Lady Anna actually DOES rip Elsa’s heart out of her chest like that killer parry (for female Hunters only!), realizing seconds too late she has killed her life long friend who crossed time and space to find her. Distraught, Lady Anna consumes Elsa’s heart, drawing upon her vampiric, Vileblood ancestry to bond Elsa’s soul to hers. Other Hunters begin to hear rumors of a unique Beast stalking Yharnam, slaying it’s own kin and leaving behind oceans of blood. It has patchy red and white fur, a greatsword strapped to it’s back, and two different colored eyes: one green, one blue. Some even claim that it speaks to itself, though broken and twisted, and it will leave a trail of blue-glowing diamonds in areas safe to return to, lighting up the dark.

Players who fight this Beast are startled to learn that the heat-up phase is actually the Beast transforming into a much smaller, very human figure who begins to wield the trick weapon on its back with swift, deadly, and ferocious attacks. The figure will sometimes scale walls and launch attacks from above, the air along the cut of the weapon’s blade igniting into flame and leaving explosive blue crystals behind. Upon the boss’s defeat the player gets double the amount of Blood Echos they expect and as the person collapses a white soul emerges to entwine around a red one, dissipating into the ether together

#yeah I had this whole tag paragraph planned out but like -- I literally cannot remember it LMAO #anyway this was fun as HELL and really FUCKING SAD to write because Soulsborne is NOT HAPPY like EVER #obviously I bent the rules a little bit and changed some canon stuff because it fit better as a crossover but TBH #I have so many pages open with references to like. double check my memory on things #and I listened to all the boss themes while writing this and bruh the TEARS #but look I pulled a g-s-w fastball special: I WILL get my mildly happy ending and pluck it from the jaws of snapping depression if I have to #I mean the world of Bloodborne is still PRETTY AWFUL buuuuuut at least they're together and NOT TRAGICALLY DEAD #thank you #azaffranist #for your amazing excellent show-stopping feels-inducing brilliant art work #I had them pulled up in a side window the whole time I was writing so I would never forget them #sending an internet thank you out also to #agongbushou #who as far as I could find does not have a tumblr but thank you for your piece too it was BREATHTAKING #and hey jabs-wocks??? ily and I wanna say thank you to you too for being a TOP NOTCH enabler #this is for you buddy: may it quench some of your Dark Souls/Bloodborne Frozen needs #jabs-wocks #daughterofhel #Soulsborne!Frozen #Soulsborne x Frozen #crossover #my writing #I am GOING TO BED X'D #it is 6am and I have spent many many MMANY hours on this holy cripes

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metvmorqhoses · 5 years ago

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Why do you think Voldemort never hooked up with another woman but Bella ? Were his choices limited to his ranks ? Were most women afraid of him ? Did he find Bella convenient since she was his DE and married? Don't men get bored with too much devotion ? She let him know how much she cared about him . Was she simply good in bed so he didn't need to look elsewhere? Was her being married another thing he found convenient? Was she convenient or special ? How was he as a 'lover' in your opinion ?

well, you provoke me and i oblige - or as i like to call it: the 100th novel-length essay on bellamort.

the reasons that in my eyes ultimately made bellatrix “the only one” for voldemort are many and various, but at the end of the day it has everything to do with who and how i think he was as a person.

as i said many times before and i feel the duty to keep specifying, over the years i started to consider these characters in a more adult and complex way, imagining them as real life persons and not fairy-tale villains and that’s where my analyses of them come from. sadly what jkr told us about their relationship is close to nothing, so all we have here is thought processes and fervent opinions about their few, filtered by harry’s eyes and painfully public interactions.

now, voldemort’s character, if looked at beyond the pure ideal of power and darkness that he so carefully built around himself, is clearly a human being as deep as the very pit of hell and full of contradictions, twistedness, beauty and voids to fill.

bear with me, because you cannot really understand what i think bellatrix was for him without explaining how i see his psychology first, which i think many many times is overly simplyfied and excused with a shrug and a “well, he’s evil”:

voldemort was born with a genius intelligence and magical talent, the most handsome looks and yet he was not only completely and utterly alone, but also a completely broken human since birth. his mother porpuselly conceived him putting his muggle father under a love potion, so he’s basically the direct offspring of the worst kind of rape: not only his mother abused his father physically, forcing him to have sex with her without his consent, but even emotionally, because she forced him to have feelings for her - as untrue as they might have been. not only that, but voldemort was clearly unloved by his parents from the very start, abandoned by them both in different ways before he was even capable to remember them. he had then been raised and abused since the most tender age in a filthy orphanage where everyone shunned and feared and made him believe he was insane, treating him god’s knows how badly, because he was able to do “things” no one else could, things that made people uncomfortable (think at how bigots can abuse children nowadays with the excuse of possession without magic or the devil even existing, i wouldn’t be surprised if tom as a child was put under monstrous rituals with the hope of exorcising him, it was after all the 30s in a really degraded and poor environment). imagine the hate, the resentment, the fear, the basic instinct to survive and only caring about himself that must have started to boil inside of him in the most dangerous of ways. he surely had the inclination to became what he ultimately became from birth, but goodness how life helped him. he learnt to defend and avenge himself from such a hostile world from the very start, it was a matter of surviving or succumbing. and then, at some point of his young age, he finally started to master and taste something that made him feel good, that made him feel right about himself, he started to enjoy the feeling of being in control of his abusers, of manipulating them, of hurting them, of taking what he wanted from them, the feeling of power - and moreover, a power that directly originated from inside himself - his power. he obviously started to consider himself his own savior, he started to intimately feel special, better than anyone, superior. at the same time he started to hate muggles, because muggles had been his first real source of utter isolation and pain (thing reinforced by the discovery, many years later, that his father, the reason he had to go through all that, was one of them). then, out of the blue, he was told that “more” he had so strong inside of himself was indeed magic. imagine the feeling of validation he must have felt about his uniqueness and superiority, imagine how powerfully his addiction to this wondrous thing he could finally name must have taken definitive root inside of him. magic became his everything, his religion, his purpose, his assurance of never having to feel weak, vulnerable or defenseless ever again. magic was the fuel that alimented everything he literally had in the world and that he ever felt comfortable to ever want (uniqueness, power, superiority, extraordinariness). human relationships were ludicrously out of the question in his eyes since he was a child. human beings were not reliable nor trustworthy. human beings were an utter disappointment, everyone was beneath him and no one really deserved his consideration anyway. magic was everything that really mattered. without magic, he was literally nothing - or at least that’s what life had convinced him of. an existence of his not desperately clutched on and inextricably intertwined with it was not something he even dared to fathom for himself. if you understand this, if you understand the perversion of his dependency towards magic, everything he ever did becomes painfully clear. magic for him was something so fundamental, so deeply mingled with his very being (and this is probably also the reason he indeed was the most powerful wizard that ever lived), that growing up he became more and more desperately obsessed about preserving and strengthening it. this is the root of his every choice, from venturing into the dark arts turning out completely disfigured but incredibly more powerful, to believing he could actually be the first immortal in history, to his entire anti-muggle politics. not only muggles were inferior and disgusting to him, but their mingling with wizards was in his eyes a dreadful threat to the very existence of magic and therefore everything special he ever had been. as a result, he ventured deeper and deeper into it, never to come back. no magic act seemed against nature to him, because he considered himself one with it. this is where his iron-rooted god complex comes from and i think it’s something a little more complicated than simple megalomania. but this is also where his problems with his own humanity (and other’s) started. at some point he really considered himself more than human, of a different species. no aspect of humanity meant anything to him, on the contrary, i think he had terrible problems with every basic human behavior, from caring, to having to eat and drink to survive, to sweating and having sexual impulses - and, of course, to the ultimate form of humanity, dying. i think he was profoundly disgusted by his and other’s physicality, to anything that could remind him of his mortality, even a breath.

and that’s why i don’t really think even as a most handsome young men he even spared girls or women a glance. i think he considered the whole thing far beneath him, as if a god was interested in exchanging fluids with worms. i also think deep down there was simultaneously an intellectual and not only a physical element in his disgust: i think he considered his good looks something pleasant to look at in a mirror (he only deserved the best, even in a face), quite useful, but in general absolutely meaningless and void. not to mention that was his muggle father’s face, the revolting beauty that doomed it as a child and that shamed him every day looking back at him in the mirror. the entire crowds of girls that without any doubt must have fawned over him at school were probably amusing to him in rare particularly good days and insufferable and despicable the rest. no one deserved to be around him, no one could understand his real greatness or void anyway, no matter how low they rightfully bowed - and they had to bow, but from a fair distance. i think the mere thought of sex was something absolutely revolting to him.

until.

now you are probably starting to understand why i needed this endless preface to answer your question.

i think bellatrix was something really unexpected for him, that came relatively late in his life while he was busy with everything else, building an empire and becoming a most powerful immortal creature, and it was extraordinary enough to enkindle something in him, in his humanity, at first even without his consent or him even noticing.

yes, you heard me right, despite all i have just written, lord voldemort was still human being and of a really damaged and flawed kind, no matter what he stubbornly wanted to believe about himself.

i think the first immediate reason that sparkled voldemort’s interest was that bellatrix somehow reminded him of himself. and we do know that he was really able to love only himself. this is the ultimate narcissistic thought process. she was everything he admired of his own qualities: beautiful, dark, incredibly intelligent and magically skilled, proud, ambitious, ruthless, power-angry. they were incredibly similar. but she was at the same time somehow more than him, she actually was what he thought he was supposed have been: the heir of one of the most noble and ancient magical families of britain, pure powerful blood in her veins. it’s obvious he took her under his wing, thinking such a talent was a most valuable addiction to his cause, especially because along all that, bellatrix was able from the start to show him a loyalty, usefulness and adoration of a different, truer kind from all the others. and i think he really valued that, i think he was completely aware she was the only person he could really trust and i think it wasn’t a secondary thing for someone who had never really trusted anyone from the day he was born - that he was aware of it or not. one thing is believing your followers are loyal to you and your cause (an example is snape), another is having the absolute certainty that someone will always be at your side, no matter how desperate the situation - and only bellatrix was ever able to provide him that. he was intelligent enough to tell the difference. i think bellatrix’s unfaltering loyalty and mind-presence at azkaban for fourteen years after his apparent demise was something that really won his respect and admiration. and no, i don’t really think voldemort was the kind of person that gets tired of too much devotion, at least not a true, sincere one, as the kind bellatrix’s provided him from day one. i actually think he was in desperate need of it, consciously or not. voldemort probably had, in my vision, a peculiar relationship with devotion and servility: he thought everyone owed him as much, but was at the same time quite annoyed by too much of it (killing people who said too much “my lords”). but not too much of bellatrix’s, and it’s probably because of the fact hers was of a deeper and more honest kind of devotion.

we don’t have to forget bellatrix was almost as egocentric, proud and vain as him, this is the woman who sits on chairs as if they were thrones. she was wizarding royalty and she sure as hell acted accordingly, she was used to have everyone bow to her (and if they didn’t, she made them). and the fact that she, this fearless tigress, only bowed to him, out of admiration and not blind fear (even if a healthy component of fear was indeed present in her as well), was certainly a reason of great pleasure and amusement to him. don’t even forget i totally believe bella amused him as hell. can you imagine anyone else rendered a blathering idiot in front of him, following him so closely, too closely, speaking without asking, etc, who would have lived to tell the tale? bella was allowed things no one else was, pet name included.

she was one hell of a woman, painfully like him, that literally melted and would have died any moment for him. this started to move things inside of him that i’m sure at first he didn’t like, especially the physical impulses. i said many times i’m convinced at first he was resolute into killing her. the fact that in the end he didn’t tells the tale for me. who knows, maybe the killing in the middle turned into other primordial activities. sexually, i do think he had the need to use a fair amount of violence, not so much because he wanted to hurt her, but to deal with the mortality/humanity aversion, and i think bellatrix was the only woman who was mentally built to not only understand, but enjoy that. i think bella’s legs went week in front of his displays of power, no matter if the victim was her. i wasn’t really a matter of dominating her spirit, but totally possessing her body for him. funnily enough, i think he absolutely respected her in his own twisted way and that she totally thought the same. that respect had nothing to do with their physical and political power dynamics.

again, they were absurdly similar and well-matched. i think at some point she became invaluable to him in a similar way magic was, so much he actually risked his own life and failure to ensure she wasn’t captured again. everyone else was disposable, but not his bella. he could have punished her the rare times she let him down, but as a death eater, not as a person. i think bellatrix was the only case in which the two things in his mind were actually separate even if linked.

they fond each other in darkness and voldemort, lover of uniqueness, surely understood the extraordinary quality of such a relationship. he wanted only the best for himself, he deserved as much, and bellatrix was the actual best in his mind. she, having a similar thought, had inside of her a dramatic and overwhelming pull towards darkness, power and violence, and he embodied them all and much more in her eyes.

so, in conclusion (because i could go on for several other hours), for sure bellatrix was also, along with all the other things, convenient to him, not so much because she was married, because i think neither of them gave an effing fuck about it, but because she was perfect for him in basically every single way (best death eater, genius, skilled, pureblood, devious, not afraid of his darkness but drawn to it, loyal, submitted to him but only to him), as if he himself had carefully molded out of clay his ideal match.

as to how i think voldemort was as a lover - really, really painfully disturbing, as his whole character. i don’t think him really able to separate passion and violence, for example, and i see him really prone to dangerous mood swings, trust issues and destructive tendencies. he was also surely overly possessive of bellatrix, his bella. he was the only one entitled to treat her as he pleased, no one else, no matter if he had just crucioed the hell out of her. lay a finger on her and you are dead. also, i don’t really think he ever told her just how much she meant for him, on the contrary i think whenever he thought she was getting too close and him too attached, he would mercilessly push her away, even violently.

but at the same time i see him quite thoughtful and appreciative of everything bellatrix was, much more than any other man or husband of that society. he really thought she was the best besides himself. that he told it out loud or not, i think he was well aware of all bellatrix’s qualities, especially the ones she directed towards him, and was intimately and very deeply proud of her. i think he was really grateful for her existence and the moment she died he just knew everything was lost.

#bellamort #here i am voldemort's psychologist welcome to my office #lord voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #bellatrix black #bellatrix lestrange #hp #in the land of gods and monsters #villains #one and one thousand stories lis told #asks/replies #anon

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bocceclub · 4 years ago

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Ariahd’s backstory

for real this time. also the lexicon is a separate post now because it got way too long; you can find it here. @sapropel here’s the massive wall of text as promised!

The Life of Ariahd of Leknos

The Yianlai believe dragons are the offspring of the god of choas, their goddess Valena's greatest enemy. When the Yianlai Empire invaded and conquered the north, their dragon-hunters began killing off the high dragons, until there was only one small population left in the Razka Mountains of Dymaexei. A warlock from the city-state of Leknos stumbled upon an orphaned clutch of high dragon eggs in the high mountains. The mother had been killed by dragon-hunters while defending her nest. Although luckily the clutch had remained hidden from the hunters, it had gone without being warmed by the mother for so long that, despite the warlocks’ attempts to save them, all but one of the developing dragonets died in their eggs. Ariahd, the only one of his broodmates to survive, was carefully nurtured to hatching by the warlocks. He formed a fast connection with Enos, the young daughter of the head warlock, who helped her father care for him after he hatched. As he grew they became close friends, communicating by writing, since as a dragon Ariahd had no ability to form human-like speech. He and Enos altered the Dymae alphabet into cruder forms that would be easier for him to scratch into the dirt with his claws, and even invented pictograms, creating their own shorthand script.

The imperial occupation of Dymaexei meant that Ariahd’s existence had to be kept a secret. Because of this, he grew up very sheltered, unable to venture beyond the high walls of the monastery, his only knowledge of the outside world coming from stories told by the warlocks, and the travelers’ accounts that Enos found in the library and read aloud to him. The two would occasionally sneak out to fly in the mountains surrounding the city, careful to stay under cover of darkness.

While his earlier years were happy enough, as he grew older he began to become aware of the fact that he was likely one of the last of his kind, which affected him deeply. Over the years, as Enos joined the order’s ranks as a novitiate and then as a fully fledged warlock, Ariahd also came to envy her freedom and the ease with which her human form allowed her to move through the world. As she grew older and learned magic of increasing difficulty and complexity, her formidable skill with sorcery was also a source of jealousy for him. He knew he had it in him to be just as powerful, but his dragon’s form was ill-suited to working the complex rituals of human sorcery.

Years passed, and as Ariahd neared thirty years old--still a child in dragon years--he became increasingly restless; as Enos’ duties within the order kept her occupied, he took to wandering the mountains alone, straying further and further from the monastery each time. On one such flight, unbeknownst to him he was spotted by imperial troops. Soon imperial inquisitors were dispatched to Leknos, with orders to dispose of Ariahd and execute the warlocks both for practicing sorcery, a heresy, and for sheltering a dragon. The monastery was attacked, and in an act of rash bravery Ariahd flew out to try to confront the attackers directly. He managed to kill a number of imperial troops but was mortally wounded himself; the distraction he provided allowed a large number of the order, including Enos, to escape into the mountains with the preserved dragon souls.

The remaining warlocks dragged the dying Ariahd back behind the safety of the monastery walls. Desperate, in agony, and afraid, he begged them to preserve his soul in a vessel to keep him from truly dying. The warlocks agreed. After performing the ritual, they hid Ariahd’s soul vessel in the relic vault, which was located deep in the maze of catacombs carved into the massive rock bluff the monastery sat on. They resealed the relic vault, then committed ritual suicide rather than be tortured and executed by the inquisitors.

Ariahd's soul laid dormant, trapped in its vessel in the vault as the years went by. Fifty years later, it was discovered by a Nephiri sorcerer, Yupal. On the run from inquisitors, she had fled across the Mysskaean Sea to Dymaexei and settled in Leknos thirteen years before, where she took up a new identity, married a Leknosian man, and had a daughter, Lys. When Lys was thirteen, the Great Plague struck the Mysskaean. After ravaging coastal Dymaexei, it reached Leknos, carried by those fleeing the ravaged ports. In no time it began running its way through the city; Yupal and her family fell ill, and her husband succumbed to the Plague, leaving her and their daughter alone and close to death. Desperate to save Lys’ life, she broke into the relic vault in the monastery, hoping she'd be able to find something there to heal her. She sensed the strong magic emanating from Ariahd's soul vessel, and stole it. By the time she had returned home, Lys had died. In desperation she attempted to use necromancy to channel Ariahd's life force to resurrect her child, but accidentally opened a conduit that allowed his soul to enter the girl’s body and fuse with her soul, creating the last Walking One.

Ariahd was taken to the monastery’s infirmary, where the monks were doing their best to heal the gravely ill. For days he lay in a deep sleep, as the two souls within his body fused into one, and the monks caring for him feared he would die. Finally, he awoke. Unable to speak or write with his new hands, he had no way of telling the monks who he was or what had happened. At a loss, the monks asked Phare, a senior monk and accomplished healer, to attend to him. She had been a novitiate before the inquisitors’ attack on the monastery and the warlocks’ extermination, and when she used magic to examine Ariahd’s soul she realized immediately what he was. Phare informed the monks, and they made the decision to take him in (along with countless other children orphaned by the Plague), and began teaching him to be human.

For about ten years he stayed with the monks, at first simply learning to live in his new shape but later becoming a novitiate within the order. During his tutelage he discovered he had a gift for art, which the monks had him put to use illustrating sacred manuscripts and decorating the monastery with frescoes of scenes from Dymae mythology. Under the monks’ guidance he also began retraining in the basics of magic; while he had mastered basic magecraft as a dragon, in his new form he had to completely relearn how to connect to and channel his own power. When he was skilled enough, they introduced sorcery into his studies, which he quickly excelled at without the restraints of his dragon’s shape.

Despite how much he enjoyed his new life with the monks, over the years Ariahd once again became restless, longing to see more of the world that he’d been cloistered from his entire life. When the time came for him to become a fully ordained monk at twenty years old (his body’s physical age), he decided to leave the order instead, and depart Leknos to seek his own purpose in life.

When it came time for him to leave, he hitched a ride with a loggers’ caravan to the port city of Kymospa and from there caught a ship to the island of Temuz, where he hoped to further refine the painting skills he had first developed at the monastery. While apprenticed there under a master artist he fell in love with Talit, daughter of wealthy cloth merchants and a fellow apprentice. They became lovers, and remained so for the three years of their apprenticeship. During their scant free time outside of the painter��s workshop, Talit taught Ariahd how to sail among the islets and sandbars in the sea surrounding the island. He also started to take a renewed interest in sorcery, especially weather-working, an ancient discipline practiced by Mysskaean seafarers to turn the wind and sea in their favor. It was at this time that he began to feel uncomfortable with his body and realized he thought of himself as a man. At the urging of Talit, who was also transgender, he sought out a physician and sorcerer specializing in flesh-sculpting to help him transition physically. Up until this point he had been using the name Lys, which had belonged to his human host, and which the monks (all except Phare) had called him. He renamed himself Ariahd, which means “he who sees clearly”.

The more Ariahd explored sorcery, the more fascinated he became with it. As the end of his and Talit’s apprenticeship neared he confided in her that he planned to depart Temuz for Dossiwarri, and enroll in its famous Chabawi University to study under the master sorcerers there. Talit, wishing to pursue her own career, was not willing to accompany him to Dossiwarri. The two parted amicably, and remained friends until her death a century later. Talit would go on to become a well-known and sought-after painter, commissioned all across the Mysskaean, and her and Ariahd’s paths crossed often.

Three years after arriving in Temuz, Ariahd bid his master and fellow former apprentices goodbye and set sail for Dossiwarri. Upon arrival in the city, though, his money and belongings were stolen. Determined to earn back what he had had saved up to to pay the university’s entrance fee, he took up work as a dock worker, staying in a squalid hostel in the Dymae Quarter and practicing hedge-magic on the side for extra coin. He also continued to further his transition, having taught himself flesh-sculpting from what he’d gleaned from the Temuzo sorcerer-physician.

A group of Dymae university students—Lesta, a physician in training, Kenoad, studying poetry, and Pallas, an apprentice architect—who were also regulars at the wineshop he frequented in the Dymae Quarter noticed that he always drank alone, and decided to befriend him. They offered him a room in the house they shared, and pitched in to help him pay his entrance fee.

Ariahd was accepted into the university, easily passing the entrance exam, and began studying under the formidable Dossiwarrim sorcerer Fatawa Bernu. When Fatawa saw Ariahd’s natural aptitude for magic, she brought him and a few other select students into the university’s under-school—a small circle of faculty and students dedicated to preserving the practice of disciplines banned by the empire, among them necromancy, shape-changing, and martial sorcery. Ariahd also studied, along with a select handful of other students, under Ilan-Afis, an Eshtari sorcerer, in the art of weather-working. The Dossiwarri had long enjoyed the knowledge and prosperity the sea trade brought to their city, but were not sailors themselves; weather-working had been developed primarily by Dymae, Temuz, and Eshtari seafarers over the centuries, and a sorcerer from one of those cultures had always been employed by the Chabawi University to teach the discipline to its students.

One of the other students to be inducted into the under-school was a young Dossiwarim man named Washadi; during their education he and Ariahd became first friends and then lovers. During this time Ariahd finished his physical transition to his satisfaction. As their studies dragged on, tensions were growing between the people of Dossiwarri and the imperial ruling class. When the long-festering resentment finally boiled over into a full-scale revolt one hot summer, Ariahd and Washadi, along with countless other sorcerers studying at Chabawi, were called to lend their aid to the rebels. During one of the skirmishes Ariahd was seriously wounded, and had to be put into a magically induced coma by the sorcerer who healed him. When he awoke, he was told that Washadi had disappeared in combat, and was almost certainly dead. Once he had recovered enough he searched day and night for Washadi, but in the chaotic aftermath of the revolt his efforts proved fruitless.

Heartbroken, he packed his scant belongings, found a ship in need of a sorcerer, and departed from Dossiwarri. He would not return for another ten years, whereupon he discovered that Washadi had been captured and imprisoned by the empire, but had escaped and made his way back to Dossiwarri. In the decade following his return he had married and started a family, but extended the invitation for Ariahd to stay in Dossiwarri, telling him he’d put in a good word for him at Chabawi University, where he now taught medical sorcery. Ariahd declined, choosing instead to continue working as a ship’s sorcerer.

After sailing the Mysskaean Sea (and beyond) for decades, Ariahd grew tired of life at sea. He made his way to the far north and settled in Nossk, the capital city of the island nation Gumir, where he works as a painter in the present day. While most of his business comes from mourners commissioning funerary portraits of their dead loved ones, he is also often paid by the city counsel to paint the murals that adorn Nossk’s government buildings, temples, and municipal spaces. He lives with his partner, a Vazkyrohk sailor named Skovej Tide-Runner, in a small house in Nossk’s artisan quarter. The two met five years ago when their ships wintered in the same port, and from then on became inseparable. Skovej crews on a whaling ship during the summer, but spends the off-season with Ariahd in Nossk. They own a longhaired black cat named Renjir, who Skovej found as a stray kitten wandering the city docks. After almost a century of wandering, Ariahd all the more appreciates the small comforts of domesticity, taking great pleasure in living a quiet life among his books and paints; his past as a dragon seems so far removed from his current life as to be a dream.

#issadai #ariahd #long post #sorry guys i just hate read more links

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warcraft-lore-archives · 5 years ago

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A Timeline of the Sin’dorei People

Approx. 7,300 Years Before the Dark Portal Opens: The Highborne Exile

The Highborne, the forefathers of the blood elves, are exiled from kaldorei society for their unwillingness to desist in practicing the arcane arts. Led by Dath’Remar Sunstrider, they build a fleet of ships and set sail for the east, where they settle Tirisfal Glades some years later. This is when the Highborne begin to resemble their modern descendants, as their skin loses its violet color and they shrink in stature due to being cut off from the second Well of Eternity [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 117-118].

Approx. 6,800 Years Before the Dark Portal Opens: The Founding of Quel’Thalas

Dath’Remar leads his people north after concluding that Tirisfal Glades is unsuitable for settlement as the land is suffused with dark energy that is slowly driving some of the Highborne insane [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 118]. After an arduous journey, the Highborne establish the kingdom of Quel’Thalas and create the Sunwell on the northern tip of the Eastern Kingdoms. This is when Dath’Remar steps down as leader [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 120-121].

In time, the Highborne of Quel’Thalas would eventually be known as the high elves [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 120].

Approx. 2,800 Years Before the Dark Portal Opens: The Troll Wars

Dath’Remar’s great-grandson, Anasterian Sunstrider, comes to power [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 121].

Although the high elves lead a prosperous kingdom, it is not without contest, for the land they are settled on originally belongs to the Amani trolls. During the time that would later be known as ‘The Troll Wars,’ the Amani launch aggressive, powerful attacks on the elven denizens of Quel’Thalas, forcing them to seek help from the nearby human kingdom of Strom [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 129]. As part of a deal made between the two kingdoms, the high elves reluctantly instruct the humans in the ways of arcane magic in return for their assistance in fending off the trolls. As luck would have it, the one hundred human magi taught by the elves are instrumental in turning the conflict in their favor. The human and elves’ combined victory against the trolls indebts the high elves to Strom, which ultimately leads to them joining the Alliance a couple thousand years later during the Second War [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume I, pg. 130-131].

Approx. 5 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: The Second War

The orcish invasion of Azeroth forces the humans to turn to the high elves for help, just as the latter did during the Troll Wars many centuries prior. Reluctantly, King Anasterian Sunstrider supplies the Alliance with a rather meager amount of high elven forces [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume II, pg. 156-157].

Approx. 6 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: The Second War, Continued

The orcish Horde, now allies of the very Amani trolls that detest the high elves, encroach on the borders of the elven kingdom. They raze the countryside and use enslaved red dragons to burn down a portion of Quel’Thalas’ forest, drawing the wrath of the elven people. This event forces the high elves into the war and compels them to join the Alliance [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume II, pg. 164].

Approx. 15 – 18 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: Neutrality

Lady Katrana Prestor, the black dragon Onyxia in disguise, seeds the destruction of the Alliance and convinces nobles of various kingdoms that the orcish internment camps were a grave waste of money and time. The high elves, still ruled by King Anasterian Sunstrider, are the first to secede from the Alliance [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 34, 90].

Approx. 20 - 21 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: The Sunwell’s Fall

Sometime in the weeks leading up to the Third War, Lor’themar Theron is promoted to Ranger Lord of the Farstriders. Sylvanas Windrunner serves as Ranger General at this time [Blood of the Highborne, Chapter Two].

As the Third War begins, Arthas and his legion of undead march on Quel’Thalas in a quest for the Sunwell. With the aid of inside information provided to him by the elven magister Dar’Khan Drathir, Arthas overcomes Silvermoon City’s magical defenses and lays waste to the kingdom. He resurrects Kel’Thuzad as a lich in the Sunwell’s depths, inadvertently leading to the corruption of the magical fount [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 61-62].

King Anasterian Sunstrider, considered elderly at this time, dies in battle while defending the Sunwell, passing on the leadership of the high elves to his son Kael’thas Sunstrider [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 63, Blood of the Highborne, Chapter Two].

Although the Sunwell is not destroyed by Kel’Thuzad’s unholy resurrection, it has been polluted to such an extent that it will poison and eventually kill the very high elves it is sustaining. With that in mind, Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider makes the grave decision to destroy the Sunwell. Immediately after doing so, he renames his people the blood elves to honor the sacrifices of their fallen brethren [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 88, Blood of the Highborne, Chapter Three].

Roughly ninety percent of the high elven population dies in Arthas’ conquest of Quel’Thalas [World of Warcraft Website: Blood Elf].

Approx. 21 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: Warcraft III

Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider departs from Quel’Thalas to aid the Alliance in the fight against the undead, leaving Lor’themar Theron to serve as regent lord in his absence [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 90].

While fighting alongside the Alliance, Kael’thas and his regiment of blood elves are assigned to serve under Grand Marshal Othmar Garithos. Garithos, who harbors a deep resentment for the elven people, orders Kael’thas into such a perilous encounter with the undead that he is forced to accept help from the naga. This event reinforces Garithos’ distrust of the blood elves and leads to him imprisoning them in the dungeons of Dalaran. Prince Kael’thas and his followers eventually escape to Outland with the help of the naga [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 93].

It is on this alien world that Illidan teaches Kael’thas and his blood elves how to siphon magic from objects, the environment, and creatures – including demons – as a way of feeding their magic addiction [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 95, 139, The Warcraft Encyclopedia: Blood Elves]. One of Kael’thas’ most loyal followers, Grand Magister Rommath, is sent back to Azeroth to teach the rest of the blood elves how to drain magic [The Warcraft Encyclopedia: Blood Elves].

Kael’thas, hopeful that Illidan will find a permanent cure for his peoples’ addiction to magic, follows the demon hunter to Northrend where they intercept Arthas at the behest of Kil’jaeden. Unfortunately, Illidan suffers a grave defeat and departs. The victorious Lich King hunts down what remains of the blood elven forces and transforms them into San’layn to serve him [Page: Quel’Delar: The Sister Blade].

Approx. 21 – 22 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: Exile of the High Elves

Lor’themar Theron, unwilling to lead a divided nation, decides to exile the high elves for their refusal to feed their addiction by draining magic from living creatures [Short Story: In the Shadow of the Sun].*

Approx. 25 - 26 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: Events Leading up to The Burning Crusade

On Azeroth, the blood elves subjugate a naaru sent to them by Prince Kael’thas. A small organization, known as the Blood Knights, bend the naaru to their will, allowing them to wield the Light at their discretion, although doing so proves to be exceptionally painful [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 145, Blood of the Highborne: Chapter Four].

It is also at this time that Lor’themar Theron begins engaging in negotiations to join the Horde. In desperate need of allies and skeptical that the Alliance will offer them any aid after what happened at Dalaran during the Third War, Lor’themar turns to Warchief Thrall and his former friend, Sylvanas Windrunner [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 150, Blood of the Highborne: Chapter Four]. By the start of the Burning Crusade, the blood elves officially join the Horde [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 151].

On Outland, a faction of Kael’thas’ best and brightest magi desert after their leader Voren’thal has a vision that the naaru, not Kael’thas, will be the blood elves’ salvation. The Scryers, as they are called, take up refuge in Shattrath and aid the Alliance and Horde in battle against the Burning Legion [Quest: City of Light, World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 141].

Approx. 26 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: The End of the Sunstrider Dynasty

When the blood elves venture from Azeroth to Outland, they are dismayed to discover that their prince has succumbed to the seductive lure of fel magic and formed a pact with their enemy, the Burning Legion. His actions alienate his people and all but solidify Lor’themar Theron’s position as the official ruler of the blood elves [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 156].

Kael’thas, well under the sway of Kil’jaeden by this point, invades Quel’Danas with the intent to reignite the Sunwell and use it as a portal to bring his demonic master into the world. Together, the Horde and Alliance invade Sunwell Plateau and put an end to the corrupt Sunstrider prince for good.

Much like during the Third War, the newly reborn Sunwell is made corrupt by Kael’thas’ actions. However, the magical fount is purified by the heart of M’uru, the very naaru that the blood elves enslaved a year prior. The Sunwell’s restoration finally puts an end to their magical cravings [World of Warcraft Chronicle Volume III, pg. 159].

At some point, Umbric and his followers are exiled from Silvermoon City for their exploration of void magic [Quest: The Ghostlands, Quest: Telogrus Rift, NPC: Magister Umbric Dialogue].**

Approx. 30 Years After the Dark Portal Opens: Mists of Pandaria

Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron initiates conversations with King Varian Wrynn about possibly rejoining the Alliance. However, the events leading up to the Purge of Dalaran put an abrupt end to their negotiations, as the blood elven Sunreavers are held responsible for stealing the Divine Bell from Darnassus [Page: Lor’themar Theron].

The Sunreavers exiled from Dalaran by Jaina Proudmoore become a central force in the fight against Lei Shen on Thunder Isle [Page: Sunreaver Onslaught].

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

* In “In the Shadow of the Sun,” Lor’themar says he exiled the high elves five years prior. Since the short story takes place right after the events at Sunwell Plateau and Chronicle states that The Burning Crusade covered the entirety of year 26, it’s assumed that Lor’themar exiled the high elves around this time.

** It’s never stated exactly when Umbric and his group of elves left Silvermoon City, although it appears to have been at least a few years ago, since he says, “We’ve been working for years to comprehend the powers the void might provide” [Quest: Telogrus Rift]. Given that his research into the void was said to be a threat to the Sunwell, it’s possible he was exiled after the Sunwell was restored during The Burning Crusade [Quest: Remember the Sunwell]. However, because of Rommath’s vague wording, it’s just as likely that Umbric was exiled any time after the Third War.

#world of warcraft #blood elf #sin'dorei #worldofwarcraft #WoW #warcraft #lore #canon lore #world of warcraft lore #belf #belf lore #blood elf lore #lore mnoth #loremonth #sin'dorei lore month #blood elf lore month

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thebiasrekkers · 5 years ago

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Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,327

Chapter 24: Moving On

“Back then I thought this was a big place. But my ambition grew too big.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

There were things in this life that some people just did not deserve. There were some things in life that they did. Everyone deserved love, life, and the pursuit of happiness. Everyone didn't deserve to be treated like the slop of swine and kicked to the curb like yesterday's garbage. People deserved to be treated the way that they want to be treated. They didn't deserve to have their most cherished possessions taken from them. Everyone was allowed to have at least one miracle in their life. No one deserved to have said miracle denied them.

Namjoon sighed, thinking back on all the things that the Golden Jackals suffered through, as well as accomplished. It was nothing to spit at, that was for sure. A lot was done in a seemingly short amount of time. They were finally getting to a head with all their hard work. Sacrifices had been made, bounties were gained, and dreams were soon to be obtained.

Finally, it was all going to come to a fruitful end.

The quietude of the office brought solace to Namjoon’s heart. Nothing pleased him more than to be surrounded by books, especially those telling bold tales of far off worlds – places he could only dream about. It was a shame, really, what limitations the human mind was succumbing to, as well as what lengths society was willing to go in order to snuff out the beauty of something so mystifying as magic, science fiction; as any form of literary art, really.

Beside him were four thick textbooks concerning various histories in several different eras of socioeconomic growth from many regions, not just Korea. In fact, he’d managed to secure one book regarding the Military-Industrial Complex of America. While he had no interest in being a lobbyist or securing funds through militant means, Namjoon knew there was probably a way to formulate a plan in the corporate aspect to help further their goals. As well as foresee any pitfalls that were sure to crop up at any point during their transition into legality.

History of any kind, real and fantasy alike, were realms in which Namjoon liked to dabble and explore of his own volition. Nothing brought him more pleasure than studying the past, because studying the past meant correcting current mistakes, as well as preventing future ones from occurring altogether.

Because predictably, history had a way of repeating itself. Namjoon wasn’t about to let that happen anytime soon.

Namjoon set his pen down with a satisfied smirk, pleased with the stack of completed paperwork he’d just fought his way through. The end of their arduous road was fast approaching. Tensions were high for the last few days, but it was necessary. Things needed to be put into perspective and while it hurt to have it thrown in their faces in such a way, he knew that Jungkook was right. They all did. They hadn’t thought that far ahead in advance, so focused on the finish line and not the aftermath that would ensue had they not properly gotten things lined up like they needed to.

His phone buzzed and rang with life beside him, causing him to jump slightly. He saw it was Seokjin and answered.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Namjoon-ah?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m on my way back now.”

“See you downstairs. The others just got back home.”

Namjoon hung up the phone and gathered up all his notebooks and folders, exiting his room and making his way downstairs. He’d barely made it to the main floor of their house when he saw Jungkook appearing from the basement area. He saw him drying his wet hair with a towel, presumably finishing his workout and showered. When he remembered how Jungkook looked after Yoongi brought him home a few days ago, it was clear that Jungkook would always be the type to bounce back from any injury like it was nothing.

From shaky legs to solid jabs. The recovery level of that boy was astonishing.

“Hyung?”

Namjoon blinked, looking at Jungkook as he stared at him with a slightly perplexed look on his face. “Huh?”

“Is everything alright?” Jungkook draped the towel across his neck. “You look like you want to tell me something.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing.” He reached his hand out to clap Jungkook on the shoulder. “You’ve really become a man these last few years, Jungkook-ah.”

The younger man blinked, then shyly scratched at the side of his nose. “…Hyung, cut it out.”

Namjoon wrapped his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder just as the others started filing into the main living room. There was a platter of fruit set out in the middle of the table and Jimin was getting ready to uncork a bottle of champagne. Taehyung was about to tell him to be careful just as he popped the cork, Seokjin already grabbing a champagne flute to catch whatever alcohol managed to spill from the mouth of the bottle.

Seokjin handed everyone glasses and they all waited until Hoseok held his hand up to present a toast.

“We’ve finally done it, my brothers,” he said, giving a wistful smile, “it took us a long time to get here, but we’ve made it.” Hoseok shifted his gaze to Jungkook, his brows furrowing slightly. “Forgive your Hyung, Jungkook-ah, for neglecting those who were willing to sacrifice everything for our dreams. They have dreams too and I shouldn’t have forgotten about that.”

Jungkook bit his lower lip, averting his gaze from Hoseok as his arm holding the glass lowered slightly.

Hoseok looked at Namjoon. “Did you get it all squared away?”

He nodded, holding up the notebooks and folders in one hand so that everyone could see. “I made sure that every single one of our Jackals will have job security in our new businesses, and those that want to simply take their earnings and return home to their families can do so. If any of them want to start their own business ventures, I made sure that they could get in contact with us for any assistance.”

Namjoon saw Jungkook lift his head up, looking between Hoseok and then himself, until finally his eyes settled on Hoseok. “H-Hoseok Hyung…”

“We’ve made it. It’s time we shared the wealth.” He raised his glass and everyone else followed suit. “To leaving the dirty and dark road behind!”

They all clinked their glasses, smiles on their faces. It was the first time in years they could all smile in relief. A heavy weight was thrown off their shoulders – a proverbial mountain they’d been lugging around all this time.

Three Months Later Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

There was a throng of reporters and curious pedestrians that gathered around in front of the large building in Yongsan’s central district. Flashbulbs exploded from cameras, several corporate board members standing on the other side of a large red ribbon made of silk. Namjoon and Seokjin stood on either side of Hoseok as he held a large pair of scissors in his hands. Everyone held their breaths in excitement, waiting for the moment when the shears would cut through the delicate fabric.

And then Hoseok’s arms moved, the snip sound almost lost in the seemingly endless chorus of shutters from cameras as they continued snapping photos.

It was a way to usher in the New Year.

That was what Seokjin suggested, pushing back the unveiling of their greatest achievement. Golden Star Tower Hotel was their crowning success and it deserved every single aspect of respect regarding its perfection. Namjoon hesitated at first, not sure whether it was a good idea to push the unveiling back. In the end, Seokjin’s eye for reading the market never failed them. Waiting until the holiday aftermath trickled down was smart. While everyone focused on families, festivals, and all the holiday push and pull, the focus on their hotel would have been lost.

Everyone cheered, the press rushing in to ask Hoseok questions, to which he readily answered. He’d been grooming himself for this for years now and all their preparation was starting to bear fruit.

The rumble of the Underworld was but a soft vibration under their feet. They no longer had to concern themselves with keeping their ears to the ground. The Golden Jackals were no more. What the criminal society decided to do with that information no longer concerned them. It was a fight they would no longer be a part of.

Nevertheless, Namjoon kept a keen ear out in case trouble decided to stir in the wake of their absence. Trouble that would, in a sense, try to drag them back into the darkness. He wouldn’t hear of it. Not when they were finally starting to feel the sun on their faces.

There was talk, of course, and repercussions for their actions. It came with the territory. Tabloids spread rumors that their money was dirty, and they were attempting to erase their dark pasts. Hoseok answered these accusations with the professionalism and charisma of a foreign dignitary. He didn’t hesitate with his responses and this threw the press for a loop. Within a few short weeks, the negative articles that were written about Hoseok and his gang of Golden Jackals were a thing of the past.

Every step that was taken was a step they were prepared to take. More than prepared.

Namjoon and Yoongi would help Hoseok with the hotel management – both regarding foreign and domestic visitors, as well as financial structuring. Seokjin handled the Golden Star investment firm with Jimin. Gaining Anastasia as a financial advisor had been paramount in tying up loose ends – finalizing their last few steps into legality and away from the criminal underworld. Seokjin sang her praises, as was customary with someone whose skills he valued. There were whispers that he and Anastasia were getting a little too close, according to Jimin, but it wasn’t something that anyone in the group really needed to worry about. Both Seokjin and Anastasia were professionals and kept their personal lives as far away from their business personas as much as possible.

Taehyung and Jungkook handled things regarding the entertainment aspect of things. While they sold a good portion of their nightclubs, the Golden Star label, while small, would focus on up and coming artists who thrived in the Indie Underground. With technology advancing as rapidly as it was, it was no secret that there were young and talented artists all over the country. And not just in music, but in theatre and art as well. Some were starving artists, wanting to hone their skills at the sacrifice of having to live on the streets.

Jungkook was particularly empathetic toward these cases, personally reaching out to help them achieve their dreams – one step at a time.

As they led the press inside to give everyone a grand tour of the hotel, Namjoon felt his phone buzz with life. He pulled out his cell and spied on the screen. It was Yoongi relaying a message that things were quiet at the investment firm. They’d left things in his hands since Seokjin’s presence was required at the grand opening of the hotel. He shot him a quick text back, saying they were going to be wrapping things up soon.

“Is Yoongi bored?” Seokjin asked, sidling up next to Namjoon and bumping his shoulder slightly.

Namjoon looked at him, eyes wide, before he craned his neck in varying directions to ascertain where Hoseok was. He took a breath when he saw that he was being surrounded by reporters as he showed them the many different check-in kiosks – built to help with the reservation process. They both watched Hoseok smiling and explaining things to the letter, not missing a single beat when more and more questions were tossed into his lap.

Seokjin nudged him again, causing him to stumble to the side slightly. “Well?”

He laughed, bumping his shoulder against his as well. “He’s fine. Probably just worried.”

“Should I go back and relieve him?” Seokjin grinned, shrugging. “It’s not like these people actually care about us. Hoseok is the star of this show, it seems.”

“Looks like it,” replied Namjoon, shrugging one shoulder as well, “if you want to head back, you can. I can handle things from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Namjoon grinned, narrowing his eyes playfully at Seokjin. “Besides, I know you’re wondering what a certain financial advisor is getting into.”

Seokjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start.” He looked at his watch. “We’re all still meeting up later, right?” His gaze lifted back up to meet Namjoon’s. “For the party?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I believe so. Taehyung and Jungkook should be finishing up their business by then.”

“Good.”

They both turned to see Hoseok was moving a little bit further into the large, main lobby of the hotel. He met their gaze, smirking at them, before returning to answer more questions that others were giving him. Namjoon shook his head while shoving his hands into his pockets. Seokjin patted Namjoon’s chest, brushing past him to exit the hotel.

Just as he was about to return to Hoseok’s side, his phone buzzed once more. Turning over the cell in his hand, he saw the message was from Shownu. His eyes narrowed, craning his neck to see if the sender was in the hotel. When he saw that he wasn’t, Namjoon’s gaze returned to the phone to read the actual message this time.

Shownu: Congratulations, Namjoon-ah. Don’t let the sunlight blind you.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket, not bothering to reply. There was nothing for Namjoon to say. No. They weren’t part of that world anymore. What the Jade Fangs did now no longer concerned them. They wouldn’t go back. No, they couldn’t go back.

After clawing their way out, there was no way they were going to let themselves get dragged back down to hell.

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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How Double Dragon’s Abobo Became a Beat em up Legend

https://ift.tt/2F8DPGk

In the late ’80s, video games started featuring over-the-top, meaty musclemen. Metro City had Mike Haggar, a shirtless former wrestler who became mayor and decided that being “tough on crime” meant ridding the streets of criminals with his bare hands, his girlfriend’s psycho boyfriend, and a ninja in Nikes. Circus strongman Karnov scoured the world for adventure and treasure, fighting all kinds of mythical monsters. Bald Bull was trying to dominate both the boxing ring and the arm-wrestling circuit. Gutsman was a jacked construction robot who was later rebuilt as a 40-foot-tall tank centaur.

And then there was Abobo, the gigantic antagonist from Double Dragon. He wasn’t THE antagonist. Hell, in the first game, you fight him within the first two minutes. Despite his low-level status, he’s still far more fondly remembered than the main Double Dragon bad guys like Willy and the Shadow Master. There’s just always been something about this random brute that’s made him special.

Abobo’s journey begins in the original Double Dragon, Technos’ 1987 arcade hit. The game’s story is very simple. A dystopian, lawless, post-nuclear war version of New York City has been overrun by a gang called the Black Warriors or Shadow Warriors or Black Shadow Warriors. (They kind of workshop that name from game to game.) Billy and Jimmy Lee are two martial arts brothers whose mutual friend Marian is captured by gang members. Off they go to lay out everyone in that gang with their bare fists and occasional barrel/whip/knife/baseball bat.

While the cannon fodder is mostly made up of normal-sized guys, out walks Abobo, who makes his entrance by punching his way through a brick wall. From the moment he appears on screen, it’s clear Abobo is meant to stand apart from the rest. He has longer reach, takes more hits, can’t be thrown, and is able to throw Billy and Jimmy like ragdolls. The only guy more dangerous than Abobo is Willy, the final boss, who brings a machine gun to a fist fight.

Weirdly, Abobo has various forms in the game. His initial form is as a bald, pale guy with a mustache. Soon after, we fight Jick, an Abobo clone who closely resembles Mr. T. Later, we face off against an Incredible Hulk version of Abobo. This is post-nuclear war, so I suppose this tracks.

But it was NES port that really delivered the ultimate form of Abobo, whose appearance was seriously altered for the 8-bit console. With orange-brown skin, Abobo is still bigger than everyone else, but also looks inhuman. He has a giant, bald head almost the size of his bulky torso, and a black arch on his face that is apparently a mustache merged with a frown! While the NES version had its own quasi-fighting game mode with everyone redrawn with a bigger and better sprite, Abobo looked exactly the same. You just can’t mess with perfection!

Abobo sort-of-but-not-really appeared in the sequel, 1988’s Double Dragon II: The Revenge. In a game filled with giant enemies, there was a guy named Bolo who looked exactly like Abobo, but with long, black hair. Actually, in retrospect, he looks a lot like Danny Trejo.

Huh.

Abobo sat out of the next few Double Dragon games, as the Lee brothers busied themselves fighting mummies and chubby clowns. But he returned in a very unexpected crossover: 1993’s Battletoads/Double Dragon: The Ultimate Team. The game featured a bizarre team-up between the Dark Queen from Battletoads and the Shadow Warriors. As Double Dragon didn’t have too many memorable boss characters that could stack up to the likes of a giant rat in a singlet, they went with what they could get.

As with the other bosses in the crossover gamer, Abobo was depicted as an absolute giant compared to the Lee Brothers and the Toads. He was also very generic-looking, appearing as a shirtless, bald guy with no ‘stache. Due to the sci-fi nature of the crossover, his storyline ended with him getting booted off a spaceship and sent spiraling through space itself.

1993 also gave us the Double Dragon animated series. Somehow, this thing ran for two seasons (26 episodes) and Abobo was there from the beginning. The first episode was a weird Saturday morning-style retelling of the NES game’s plot, down to Billy Lee having to fight his “evil” brother at the end. Abobo acted as a henchman, alongside a very colorful take on Willy.

In the cartoon, Abobo was a bald muscleman with blue skin, meaning he has the same mysterious complexion situation as Captain N’s King Hippo. Abobo was also strangely competent on the show, all things considered, although the only fighting he ever did was throw oil drums at Billy and miss every single time. He spent more of his time annoyed at Willy, who was depicted as a psychotic cowboy with a laser gun — one-half Yosemite Sam and one-half the Interrupter from Late Night with Conan O’Brien.

The second episode introduced the Shadow Master, who immediately showed disgust at his underlings’ failure by magically bonding Willy to a giant mural of punished souls. Abobo tried to run for it, but succumbed to the same fate. The two would remain in that mural for the rest of the series.

While there was a fighting game released based off of the Double Dragon cartoon, Abobo wasn’t part of the roster. It was just as well. Double Dragon V: The Shadow Falls was a really bad game and Abobo had bigger things on the horizon.

Abobo was about to go Hollywood!

In 1994, Imperial Entertainment Group released the Double Dragon movie, a total cheesefest that couldn’t make back its $8 million budget. But Robert Patrick’s scenery-chewing main villain made the movie almost watchable. The story takes place in a version of Los Angeles that’s a cross between The Warriors and No Man’s Land from the Batman comics. Billy and Jimmy are teens who get roped into a plot that involves two dragon-shaped necklaces that form an all-power medallion when put together.

Initially, Nils Allen Stewart plays the gang leader Bo Abobo. As head of the Mohawk Gang, he’s there to act all intimidating in a goofy ’90s bully sort of way, but he really doesn’t actually do much. He takes part in a car chase and teases a fight scene, but nothing happens.

Then, the villain Koga Shuko transforms him into a literal steroid freak with some experimental machine. From there on out, Abobo is played by Henry Kingi in a bloated, rubber suit. Despite being a muscle golem at this point, Abobo STILL doesn’t actually fight anyone and is instead kidnapped by Power Corps.

Abobo eventually sees what he looks like in the mirror. Broken over what he’s been transformed into, he turns on Koga and…still doesn’t fight anyone. He just gives Power Corps some advice to help turn the tide against the bad guys. At the end of the movie, he asks the Lee Brothers if they could be buddies and recklessly drives their car.

Yeah, it’s…almost something. Not the awfulness of Super Mario Bros, but not the good-for-the-time quality of Mortal Kombat. It’s also not quite as fun-bad as the Street Fighter movie, but it does share one major similarity to it.

Much like Street Fighter, the Double Dragon movie had its own fighting game spinoff. Rather than a one-on-one fighter featuring digitized actors (which was the original idea until it wasn’t deemed viable for the deadline), Technos put together a Neo Geo animated fighter that isn’t so well-known these days due to how run-of-the-mill it was. It looked like your average SNK fighting game, with no real identity of its own. The game was released for arcade, Neo Geo CD, and PlayStation.

The 1995 fighting game was loosely based on the movie’s plot and featured some FMV clips. Showing up from the movie are Billy Lee, Jimmy Lee, Marian, Shuko, and Abobo. The rest of the roster is made up of original characters, though Technos did redesign Burnov, the Big Van Vader-looking boss character from Double Dragon II: The Revenge. Abobo more closely resembles his initial, more human-looking form from the movie, complete with mohawk, although he’s cartoonishly big in the game. Fortunately, he occasionally transforms into his blobby, tumor-like mutant form during certain moves and winposes.

His ending in the game features him eating a lot of meat at a restaurant, demanding to eat meat so rough that it’ll make his teeth bleed. Heh. And Roger Ebert said video games aren’t art.

Games

Double Dragon and Kunio-kun: Retro Bundle Coming Soon

By Rob Leane

Games

Double Dragon 4: Story & Multiplayer Modes Detailed

By Matthew Byrd

After the inexplicable crossover, animated series, failed movie, and fighting game tie-ins, Double Dragon as a franchise was finally spent. As the arcade scene died down in the late ’90s, the side-scrolling beat ‘em up disappeared for a time, and it would be a little while before nostalgia for it would kick in.

Fortunately, there was still some juice left in the fighting game genre, and in 2002 the Neo Geo had just enough time left before SNK’s hardware line was discontinued. The company Evoga developed what was, for a time, meant to be a Double Dragon fighting game, but ultimately the team wasn’t able to secure the rights and was forced to make the game with a knockoff cast of characters. The result was Rage of the Dragons, a tag-team fighting game featuring Billy Lewis, Jimmy Lewis, and Abubo…

Abubo does not have a tag partner and is instead a mid-boss so powerful that it takes two opponents to stop him. He’s depicted as a low-level mob boss with a ponytail, sunglasses, pink tank top, and overly-long, muscular arms. It’s a decent enough redesign of the original, but…Abubo? That’s the best they could come up with?

As for the official Double Dragon, it made its comeback a year later. Double Dragon Advance for the Game Boy Advance took the original arcade version, updated the graphics just enough, added more stages, enemies, and attacks, turning this installment into a souped-up take on the classic. This of course meant the return of the real Abobo!

2012 would be a banner year for the musclebound henchman. Since 2002, I-Mockery’s Roger Barr had been trying to develop an Abobo-based fangame, and in early 2012, the free-to-play masterpiece Abobo’s Big Adventure was released to the public and we were better for it.

Using 8-bit graphics, the game follows Abobo as he searches for his kidnapped son Aboboy. Each level is based on a different NES title and features a dizzying amount of Easter eggs. There’s a Double Dragon level, underwater Super Mario Bros. level, Urban Champ, Legend of Zelda, Balloon Fight, Pro Wrestling, Mega Man, Contra, and finally Punch-Out. The game is an absolute blast, especially for anyone who grew up with the NES and features such whacked out moments as:

Abobo mating with the mermaid from Goonies 2, which gives him a forcefield powerup made up of Abobo/mermaid hybrid babies, one of which begs for death!

An Abobo vs. Amazon wrestling match that includes the summoning of Hulk Hogan, Ultimate Warrior, Roddy Piper, and Undertaker assists in the form of Pro Wrestling sprites.

Taking on Krang’s giant robot body with Kirby in the abdominal area.

An incredibly long and over-the-top ending that gets extremely and laughably violent. If you’ve ever wanted to see a muscular child drink blood from the Shredder’s dismembered arm, this game is for you!

In terms of OFFICIAL nostalgia, 2012 also saw the release of Double Dragon Neon for the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 (and later PC). Using 3D graphics, the game was a modern update of Double Dragon’s playstyle while playing up the 1980s aesthetic. It was a lot more ridiculous than the original series. In fact, it’s more in line with the Battletoads crossover since this game also lets you launch Abobo into the deep recesses of outer space to die.

This game also gave us the first – and, as of this writing, only – polygon Abobo. This time a towering, hunched over brute with lots of spiked armbands. All that AND the mustache!

But of those two 2012 releases, Abobo’s Big Adventure is surprisingly the better game in terms of its portrayal of the big man, as it solidified his status as nostalgic beat em up icon.

In 2017, Arc System Works put together Double Dragon IV for the PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Nintendo Switch, and PC. Rather than emulate the arcade original’s aesthetic, the game took its art style from the NES games. That meant the return of the classic NES Abobo as not only a recurring enemy but an unlockable playable character. Double Dragon IV actually lets you play through the story mode as various enemy characters, but honestly, who else would you pick in that situation? Well, maybe Burnov.

Sadly, playing as Abobo in Double Dragon IV leads to a non-ending. I know you can’t improve on “Abobo punches Little Mac’s head off so hard it transcends time and space,” but at least TRY!

Around the same time, another game tried to play up Abobo’s ironic/iconic status. River City Ransom: Underground was released for the PC in early 2017. The River City Ransom series has always had ties to Double Dragon, but this high school brawler goes the extra mile by putting Abobo on a big pedestal. First off, he’s the school principal. If you attack any of your teachers, you’re sent to Principal Abobo’s office to suffer a serious slap on the wrist, shoulder, jaw, spine, etc. Sometimes he’ll even enter classrooms by punching holes through the brick walls, all while shirtless and talking like the Hulk.

Even better than that? Abobo’s not only the school principal but the Mayor of River City! No wonder everyone’s always kicking the shit out of each other! God bless Mayor Mike Haggar for being a true trendsetter.

The Double Dragon/River City connection only grew stronger when 2019 brought the absolutely must-play River City Girls. As the story goes, River City Ransom heroes Kunio and Riki have been kidnapped, so their badass girlfriends Misako and Kyoko go on a violent rampage to save them. Early in the game, while Misako and Kyoko fighting in a classroom, there’s a projector playing a short film about a boy learning about puberty.

It just so happens that the kid in the video is being taught by Abobo, who thanks puberty for his monstrous size and strength. This, my friends, is foreshadowing, as Abobo shows up later in the game as a boss.

Misako and Kyoko confront Abobo about their missing boyfriends, and Abobo admits that he isn’t sure whether or not he kidnapped them since he kidnaps a LOT of people. They throw down and we’re treated to the most powerful take on Abobo yet, considering the length of his life bar. Once defeated, Abobo admits that he has nothing to do with the missing boyfriends, but gives the heroes a lead by talking about his side job as security for an upcoming concert.

In 2020, Arc System Works released a collection for PS4 and Switch called Double Dragon & Kunio-Kun Retro Brawler Bundle. It collects 18 8-bit games, including the three NES Double Dragon games, River City Ransom, and all the old spinoffs from the River City Ransom universe. And who’s on the cover?

Yes, despite technically being in one game out of 18, and not even being the final boss of any of them, Abobo gets a major spot on the cover of this huge collection among the games’ hero characters. Finally, the world understands that Abobo is a star. Now we just need Abobo to appear in Guilty Gear Strive and then we’ll really be cooking.

The post How Double Dragon’s Abobo Became a Beat em up Legend appeared first on Den of Geek.

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unholyhelbig · 5 years ago

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Knock, Three Times

A/N: Okay, so you guys know that horror is kinda my element. Which makes me sad that I missed out on the first day. I did actually write something but didn’t like it- so I might post it later!

Fic Title: Knock, Three Times.

AO3 Link

Day #2: Accidentally Summoning a Demon

The hospital’s corridors were bleach white. There was no color to the hallways or even the rooms. Just an undeniable white that countered the fluorescent lights with a brightness of their own. Walls were devoid of posters telling patients to keep their heads up and instead were replaced with chain-locked doors. Deadbolted and impossible to move.

Beca Mitchell chose not to look at those doors, the numbers painted in black and chipping away to reveal even more white. She could still tell that they counted up in even numbers. A little window carved out of each metal slab to give the patient, the prisoner, a better view of the world. Which just happened to be a blank nothingness.

“Don’t’ feel bad for them.” The guard walking with her snapped her from her haze. One of those women who had probably gone straight from the military into a psychiatric hospital. She wasn’t like the nurses dressed in a sunny yellow. She had a gun attached to her belt and her features were stoic with knowledge. “They made choices that threw them in here, just like you made the choice to visit your friend. Most of them are killers and crooks just trying to seem insane.”

“Do you ever believe them?” Beca took to asking instead of denying what the woman had said.

“You can’t believe anything other than what’s in front of you in my line of work, honey.”

Beca decided to leave it at that. It was a cynical way to look at the world, but she understood. Women who drowned their own kids, and men who had purposely driven a van through a campground without stopping. All claiming insanity and sticking to the guilty plea. She didn’t strive to make eye contact with any of them, caged and desperate for an ounce of human contact.

They walked a few more feet before a long stretch of windows let in some natural light. It soothed Beca, seeing the stretch of barbed wire and chain link fence wasn’t the same as a beach view, but it told of a world further from this one.

The guard fumbled with the keys on her belt before pulling one covered with masking tape to the front. Room 113 was written in sharpie sloppily. “Right, well, I will be right outside of this door. You feel uncomfortable, or in danger at all, then you just pound on the wall three times and I’ll pull you out. Handle her.”

“What will you do?” Beca’s voice was tight, scanning over the baton she had on her leather belt, and then back to the gun that was a few inches away. “I mean, you won’t hurt her, will you?”

“Relax, sweetie, It’s a sedative.”

Beca didn’t’ know if that soothed her nerves at all but she again let the words hang in the stale air. She had the nervous instinct to play with her keys that she usually kept in her jacket pocket, but they had stripped her of the whole coat. Took her belt, and her shoelaces too. The tongues of her shoes flopped as they walked to their destination.

The metal door creaked open and the hinges groaned in exhaustion. She was hit with the instant scent of rot, not so much as fruit that had succumbed to the elements- more like an old library that was filled with leather-bound books, pages disintegrating the second gloveless fingers touched the print.

Her room was bigger than Beca would have guessed, not large, but more than a classic jail cell. It was white too, but some letters were tacked to the walls and a small window rested on the far wall, barred and then barred again. There was a metal desk and a bookshelf that was occupied to its capacity. They had started to pile on the floor next to the raised cot that had a folded blanket and one bare pillow.

Beca jumped when the door slammed behind her. The girl who was huddled up on the windowsill didn’t so much as look up from the novel in her grasp. Pale and slimmer than she remembers- Emily Junk looked dwarfed in the grey sweatpants and stained white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and her features were shadowed by the outside light. Maybe it was a better view than the barbed wire on the other side.

“They didn’t’ tell me you were coming.” She finally said after a long bout of silence. “I would have tidied up a little bit.”

Beca scanned the girl with wide eyes, those greenish-brown ones finally finding hers with an uncharacteristically simple smile. Too simple for the girl that was trapped in a mandated insane asylum, though, she had read somewhere that they weren’t supposed to call it that anymore. Something about rehabilitation. She had a feeling that Emily was never going to find her way back into society.

“Lighten up a little, it was a joke. It’s okay to laugh.” She spoke again, putting the book down on the nearby desk and adjusting her position so her feet were hanging off her perch. “You look good, California has made you tan.”

“I never went. I put the album on hold for a little, until the trial-“She swallowed thickly, trying to gauge a reaction, but she never got one. “Things need to settle down at home before I make a new one.”

Beca thought she registered a look of guilt from Emily, but she was standing before the other girl was completely sure. Crossing the room to set the book down on the cot and then herself in the corner. Beca could feel the chill of the metal door on her back, almost through her t-shirt. She was pining for that jacket that they had stolen and housed in a plastic bin.

“You know, the only people who visit me in here are my lawyers. And Aubrey that one time. That was in the beginning though.”

“You killed someone, Emily, can you blame them?” A type of fire licked at her stomach. She was told not to say anything, not to bring up why Emily was in here in the first place, that it could damage her recovery process. Beca quickly clenched her jaw shut and looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“You don’t’ have to tip-toe around me, Beca.”

Emily was standing again, directly across from her in the small expanse of blank space not occupied by an item of furniture. Her hands were slack in the pockets of her sweatpants. “What’d they tell you, that I’m liable to snap? To forget everything they’re trying to do to me? Not likely. You can’t erase something like that, no matter how pokey they get with their sticks.”

Beca’s eyes hardened “Why’d you do it, then? Because I’m not buying this whole demon excuse.”

It had all been so fast, raining the night that Beca got the call from Aubrey. Aubrey who had found Emily covered in black syrup in the center of a salt drawn circle. She had panicked, thought it was the younger girl's blood. That’s when she found the neighbor in the bathtub, draining slowly and meticulously. Beca never questioned the design the salt was in or the book that was opened beside her to a blank page. None of it made sense.

“You of all people should be the most willing to accept that as an excuse.” She lifted a brow. “After all, Beca you were the one that told us to stay out of the basement. Said it was haunted. I thought it was just a prank on the new girl- a hazing of sorts.”

Beca’s jaw clenched as she watched the girl meander back over to the desk with hard eyes. She ran her fingers over the dusty surface until they reached the spine of the book. Emily’s stare was filled with longing.

“What exactly were you doing down there all those years?” Emily glanced back up, stray hair falling into her eyes. “raising the dead was my first guess. But then I found that book of yours. It was naive to leave it out in the open like that. Though- I must admit, it was a bit of a challenge to translate all that Latin.”

She was still for a moment, who body rigid as if it were frozen in place. Emily wasn’t as washed as she had thought. It was a simple clean up, hide the book and she looked like nothing more than a girl in the middle of a salt circle covered in someone else’s blood.

Beca let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. What do you want, then?”

Emily looked taken aback by the question. What did she want? Beca was hoping deep down inside that the weight of something like that would puzzle her- the start of a smirk crept against her upper lip. It was unfortunate Beca thought, that someone as sweet as Emily had stumbled upon her book and had read from the darkest page of them all. A cruel trick. Beca almost felt sorry for her in the aspect.

“you’re going to get me out of here,” Emily said.

“Now, I think that’s asking a little too much, don’t you? I mean, you sealed the deal the second you opened your mouth about demons and some ancient spell to summon them. It’s called a secret art for a reason, Em.”

“I’ll tell them about you,” Her voice was flooded with panic. That was another mistake Emily made, confusing hope with the reality of one of her storybooks. “Your book, and your sacrifices, and your… your magic.”

“And who exactly will believe you?”

Beca could smell the bubblegum medicine that they made Emily swallow twice, maybe three times, a day. She was that close. Could see the paleness in her skin and the timid flow in her stance. She had bruises from IV”s in her hand and equally as dark ones around her wrists from straps Beca had failed to notice before.

“Emily, you know how much I adore you and your naive nature, but it’s just that, isn’t it? You say anything about me and they’ll just up your dosages. I think you got confused by my visit here. But if you stick to the program, maybe they’ll let you out one day.” Beca took an even step back. “I’ll keep visiting you, don’t worry.”

She swallowed thickly and tucked her arms closer to her body. Beca couldn’t tell if it was anger or something more. Stirring in her usually placid nature. “Can you at least stop the nightmares?” She asked.

Beca lilted her head with a dark smile and banged on the wall three times.

#hw192 #Pitch perfect Horror week #Beca Mitchell #Emily Junk #bemily #bemily fanfiction #spooky

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delicateunraveling · 5 years ago

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Dear Taylor,

A version of this has been in my drafts since the week Lover came out, and I’ve been alternating between too shy and too overwhelmed to post it, but I wanted to try and say something in honor of your 30th birthday, the astonishing year you’ve had, and the impact you’ve made on my life. (The photo is of things I received in a package from a fellow Swiftie, who sent me the deluxe version of the album - and the extra surprises! - because I couldn’t afford it myself, and that itself was remarkably kind and a testament to you - you’ve inspired so much goodness and generosity in others.)

Even if you’re, understandably, never able to see this, it’s honestly a blessing to think I can send this out into the universe. That's enough. Somehow I never knew that I could reach out on Tumblr until recently, or I likely would have said something to you many years ago (despite that overwhelming shyness). I wish I could be eloquent or imaginative in writing it (if I could be complex, if I could be cool!) instead of...an overemotional mess? I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you, for everything you've given to us in your music, everything you've given of yourself no matter how hard it's been, everything you've represented in your honesty, your displays of compassion and strength.

Music is the deepest passion and love of mine, it's the gossamer thread that's held me together in the worst times, the safe place where I could pour my heart and be myself. I'm a couple of years older than you are, though I generally feel behind these days because I've been chronically ill and mostly housebound since I was 19, and that halted my life and dreams in their tracks. The dream of truly honing my voice and my musical self was the most difficult to put away in the midst of all the others. It's often felt like being trapped in amber while the world keeps spinning, or like being a ghost, ostensibly drifting in the world, but nearly invisible to it, only occasionally peeking out of the windows to see the sun.

Ten years ago, I fell for a boy (still the only person I've ever felt that way about), and everything he was ended up being a lie and devolving into him gaslighting me and threatening my safety directly, along with breaking my heart. It took such a toll that I had to pull myself out of a harmful darkness, and he was a musician himself, so I had some terror that the experience with him had stolen or tainted that dearest part of my being. It hadn't, but the recovery took a while. One of the very first things that got me through it, that woke me up again, was being able to hold close to your first two albums. Those songs quite literally helped keep my heart beating, and then Speak Now helped it to heal. I’ve unfortunately never had the chance to see you live (the concert films are spectacular, though!), but your music became a part of the tapestry of my life from those first moments on. I've loved your work ever since then, but often quietly and tenderly, because it's near to such a delicate part of my spirit. It's vulnerable and personal, it's romantic and devastating, it’s starshine salvation when the world feels cold and clouded, and saying that is strange since those expressed emotions are fundamentally yours, but the way they transform into something both universal and specific is truly magical.

This year has been the worst and the darkest I've felt since that heartbreak ten years ago, though for very different reasons. My health took a serious turn for the worse. My beloved dog, who was my constant companion and my emotional support through every day of my illness for almost 13 years, succumbed to cancer. She was my sweet baby (I'm sure you understand this feeling with your precious kitties), and I still struggle with her absence daily. My mom and I are in the most precarious position we've ever been in financially, and we're looking at losing our condo with nowhere else to go. I've felt like everything is terrifying and tenuous and slipping away from me, including time itself. I apologize for even putting those burdens down in words, but if I don't, the weight of my thanks to you isn't as real. "Me!" came out only a couple of weeks after she passed away, and the pure happiness of it was the first bit of joy I'd even felt since she had relapsed. Then when you released “The Archer,” it moved me to the point that tears were streaming down my face when I first played it, feeling like I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost was transcribed from a cathartic place in my own thoughts. Knowing a new album was coming from you once again gave me something to look forward to, a reason to want to keep going, even when it hurt to breathe from missing her, even on days when my illness has been flaring too severely and painfully for me to get out of bed, I kept thinking...make it through to August, you have to hear Taylor's next album. Making it there felt like a minor miracle, and even though I’m scared and don’t know what’s ahead or what’s going to happen now, I am unbelievably glad that I was here to listen to your music, and then to witness your continued bravery, over the past few months. Laying that out in words on a screen sounds too small, but it's tremendous to me.

There are connections to each of your album releases that I could ramble about (Red would take several chapters of its own in my hypothetical novel, My Melodic Inclinations and Inspirations: An Autobiography), in their meaning to me and how much they represent in the pages of these passing years, but I realize how special Lover is to you specifically, and that's why now, more than ever, I wanted to be able to say how grateful I am for your poetic words, for your sweeping and intimate melodies, for your works of art. Hidden away in my room, I've sung-screamed your songs in delight at the top of my lungs, I've curled up under covers and cried to them, I've twirled around in pajamas with them. This is the first time I won't have my fluffy girl to hold on my lap and sing them to, but somehow that has made having new songs all the more treasured and cathartic. Lover is an absolutely exquisite, sparkling gift of an album. I cherish it as I do each of your albums, each for their own special reasons, and I will forever be thankful for all of your work.

I respect and admire you so much for the way you've stood your ground, the way you've championed what you believe in and spoken for equality and for artists’ rights, the grace with which you've approached everything you've been dealt in such a harsh spotlight. I can't fathom what that's like, but I am constantly proud of how you respond, your ability to both grow and remain authentic in expressing your views and truths. Exceptional artistry is worth celebrating (your Artist of the Decade and every other accolade is earned and deserved!), but being an exceptional person is even more worthwhile, and I believe you're both. When we say we stand with you, when we rally around you, I hope you remember that it’s out of not only that admiration and pride, but also rooted in genuine care and connected humanity. Our society needs bright, bold women, making changes and supporting one another. The world is lucky to have your beautiful songs, and your individual voice.

Thank you for creating such incredible things. Thank you for giving a valuable perspective to such a breadth of emotions. Thank you for giving your dazzling art so wholly. I hope you remember how much it means, how deeply it resonates, to so many people. I hope you remember that so many of us are in your corner with the brightest wishes, for your happiness and your freedom to be yourself, with prayers for you and your family and loved ones. I hope you know that your words have given some of us life rafts in swirling currents that threaten to drag us under, that your music has the ability to break through shadows with powerful light. There is a sacredness which exists in art that knits us together. Wherever I go, I'll carry your songs in my heart and soul.

Happy, happy Birthday!!! 🍰 🎈✨ It truly is the end of the decade, but the start of an age. May 30 be the beginning of brand new creativity and experiences, and even more wonder and daylight, golden on the horizon.

Love always,

Jess 💖💖💖

@taylorswift @taylornation 😘

#taylorswift #taylor swift #taylor nation #taylurking #happy birthday taylor #i love you so much #this is absolutely okay to reblog if anyone wants to #♥♥♥

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marieantoine · 5 years ago

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I, Psyche

Here Tumblr, my first attempt to write something after a lot of years. It’s a very descriptive, personal analysis I made on Psyche’s character. She is my favorite character from Greek Mythology. I need lots of painfully honest opinions guys, thank you in advance! <3

There was once a famous human beauty by the name of Psyche. In her hair lied the melancholy of bronze shimmer, reminding of the freshly fallen leaves of late August. In the sunlight, her gentle curls shone with the kind of metallic glister that the mighty pharaohs of Egypt dreamed of adorning their bodies with. Her eyes were emeralds, and frightening was their glance, the look of those deep dark green crystals… The whole image of a flawed human soul unraveled itself into the depth of her eyes! ...with a magnitude that could make even the roughest of beings dissolve into tears. And yet, to those pure of heart, the spectacle of her eyes exuded an ethereal feeling, absorbing the whole body and soul. It was the feeling of a drop of water falling into the sea. It was frightening at first, indeed, but turned with time to be so recomforting - because, when you saw her eyes - you knew that there was a divine existence reigning over the Universe, coordinating everything from above. You knew that the Gods had one day willingly decided to bestow such unparalleled beauty on a mere mortal - otherwise it would be an impossibility on Nature’s part to create such sublime perfection. I could tell you endlessly of her physical virtues - her silky, white, soft skin. The symmetry of her face, the tender roundness of her arms. Her shoulders, that, just like the softly refined edges of a beach, hadn’t any real beginning or end - they were just impeccably sculpted in the way that not even a Renaissance master could replicate. But, that would do nothing but feed into the convention that envious humans have of the creatures touched by the divine. Psyche was aware of her beauty, she was mindful of the power she held over manly instinct and she was at times disheartened by the prisma of hate & envy that other women saw her through. She pitied them, though - she pitied them all. ‘’What do they know of being beautiful? They are so ignorant! - they so often forget how much of a damn curse it is! Yes, indeed, it’s pleasing for one to look perfect, doing absolutely anything, not having to worry about being seen from an unflattering angle or a bad side. But what do they know about the pain of seeing divinity in the mirror, and hating, dreading the face looking back at you? What do they know of the rejection, of the emptiness, the loneliness ?’’ she thought Despite her beauty, Psyche was a indeed a lonely person. She had a sociable life, invited at every party, meeting all kinds of people, enchanting and/or scandalizing them only by being kind to them, by lacking the arrogance that was expected of her - for most of us have an internalized belief that people blessed with physical beauty must lack in some other much more important department, like intellect, emotional intelligence or humour. But it was exactly this quality that took her above the standards of human beauty. She was not the only beautiful girl in the world, but she was the kind of girl words like radiant are reserved for. Yes, she had an ecstatic bodily figure and a grace in her movement that made her look as if walking on thin air - but that was not what made her a divine beauty. She was a genuinely kind person, not lacking in intelligence, both emotional and logical. And, if her father had allowed it, Psyche might have been a mathematical genius and a prodigy of the fine arts, for she had a born instinct for the exploration of mathematics & logics. She was born with such longing for novelty and scientific discovery; a longing so intrinsically essential to the human nature. Or, at least, essential for her happiness and clarity of thought. As well as a mathematician, dear Psyche was a painter, and a very skillful one at that. She had the ability of replicating what she saw almost to the accuracy of a picture, but almost, indeed. She could copy every detail of nature on her canvas - but to what end? Art is not replicating what you see, art lies in the manner of presenting nature in a whole new way, Psyche believed.Therefore, she always sprinkled her canvas with a nuance of magic & surrealism. Why was she - such a nice, kind, intelligent person - why was she so tragically lonely? It’s because she intimidated everyone around her. The women she met started conversations with her out of pure curiosity, after whispering dirty rumours about her in the corners, and they all walked up to her with the powerful conviction that something must be wrong with her - with the intention of revealing for themselves and all others that this beautiful girl was just that - a beautiful nymph that someday will succumb to age and fade away as gently as a rose dying at the first snow of a late autumn. They tested her in every possible way - in their conversations some women would bring up some of the most intellectual subjects that they could think of and expect her to not understand and be able to respond to their remarks. They would tempt her to act disrespectfully, unkindly and even tried to make her angry & mean. But the more they dived into her thoughts and feelings, the more they tried to break through the surface of her personality - the more they discovered that there was nothing scandalous, immoral or shameful in this girl. Her soul & mind matched the grace of her outer appearance. She was a being that had successfully balanced her outer and inner self. She was kind and did good deeds out of the pure conviction that she would hate to do anything to provoke sadness and suffering in the world - with a pure belief that all people deserved someone there to at least try to prevent their suffering. She understood that everyone’s life is a little tragedy of their own - and if, for only one day you would be allowed to feel what they feel, to have their memories and walk around one day in their life - you would feel how each and everyone of their actions was completely justified. Psyche believed that every person in this world was worth crying for, in one way or another, and sometimes she cried at the thought of people not understanding the tragedy, the pain behind a person’s apparently hateful actions. She would sometimes be angered by humans’ inability to try understanding one another and seeing things from the other’s perspective. She believed with her whole soul in the idea that understanding one another would bring about a golden age of fulfillment to humanity. She was sometimes angry at herself for being angered by the hatefulness and envy that people directed at her through words & actions. She would get angry at herself for being shallow and selfish, not understanding the actions of the people around her and seeing herself as the victim, when, really, everyone was a victim of simply being alive. ‘’They are hateful because they are hurting inside.’’ she told herself. She wanted to understand them, to forgive them all, and she did, but some days she just wished the continuous tests and interrogation and envy would just stop. Even men, visibly aroused at the mere sight of her, were too intimidated and afraid to approach her. They venerated her as the reincarnation of Aphrodite, and, in truth, didn’t see her as much of a human. They could not believe that Psyche would ever fall in love with an ordinary person, someone like them - and it was indeed a bit impossible to fall in love with a man that could not even hold a decent conversation. Some tried to talk to her, sometimes, but the visible nervousness in their voice and continuous fidgeting made her uncomfortable and nervous as to how she could possibly reassure and calm them down. It was a rare thing for a man to approach her, though. And so - our Psyche had never experienced the fiery passion of love, in a society where at 17 most girls were married and were usually having their second child by then. Of course, the people who broke through the surface of her beauty and got to know her personally discovered extraordinary qualities. They could find no fault in her - except maybe the naiveté of a young girl that she at her 17 years of age was fully entitled to possess. She was at times naive, she tended to live in the past too often and she would be trapped by her passion to build a better world, not being able to properly express herself due to the power of her feelings. These were very human faults, that no one could ever really condemn her for. Because indeed, with her divine beauty and faultless personality, Psyche was far from a Goddess. She was a human being, just like you & me, with dreams, passions, thoughts, worries, feelings and an unstoppable curiosity. Given the chance, she would’ve loved nothing more than to build herself a ship and go out on the open oceans, just to see what’s on the other side. We humans are tirelessly ambitious - and as youngsters we try to attain perfection in all that we do, until, someday, we stop trying. After suffering, crying and working laboriously in the name of perfection - without an expected result - someone comes by and tells us perfection is a myth. Or that perfect is imperfect. All people who have once been young and ambitious have undoubtedly experienced this, once. And that is why people were afraid of her - they saw in her the kind of perfection & completion that they had told themselves was impossible to achieve, and therefore not worth chasing after. They saw that perfection taking form in the human flesh, and ran tirelessly, away, the second they pinched themselves and saw that it was not a dream. Ran away from the suffering, tried denying their human instinct of perfection… all to preserve their current consolation in life, the alleviation of living in a world where perfect is impossible

#fanfiction #greek mythology #eros and psyche #goddess #short story #writers #love #beauty

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