#i also like to think his bravery was part of his original human personality

[thelouisfanclub]

my favourite thing about Count Dracula is his enterprising nature. Obviously part of the vampire lore is that they have to return to their native soil to sleep at night, so they can't go very far, a bit like ghosts who are always stuck haunting the same house night after night. But he decided he was gonna be the one to strike out. He was gonna do what no vampire had done before - move to the big city. and he risked it all to do it

I know he's an evil predator and everything a but I kind of love that for him

[quotidian-oblivion]

I've been thinking about Jason's memorial case in the Batcave recently and came up with a few thoughts.

Obviously, there are a few things wrong with it, mainly the title of a "Good Soldier" being attached to a child. And I've been thinking aboit that mostly.

There's no questions of how intensely focused and obsessed Batman is over the war against crime in Gotham, we see him quoting it multiple times in the comics and even the movies, animated and live-action. And so he thinks everyone in the war is a soldier, including Robins. I hate that and loathe it.

Not because I'm a Batman apologist, I'm not. It's because I like to see and believe in the better parts of Batman. The reason why he doesn't kill in the first place--because it comes from a place of compassion and a place of strong belief set by an 8-year-old boy who grew up too fast. Because he believes anyone can be redeemable because ultimately everyone is human, as proven in the older Batman comics and Batman TAS when he helps Harvey, Harley, Baby Doll, etc.

And the biggest reason of all--because Batman, whether anyone likes it or not, represents a strong symbol in Gotham. A burning torch in murky darkness. A hope--one shrouded by shadows--but a hope nonetheless. It's in the psychology of Gothamites, it needs a Batman because of that symbol which is lethal to criminals and a relief to citizens. I'm heavily referencing The Dark Knight Returns I and II (animated movies) here. Watch it if you haven't yet, you'll see what I mean. This is why he can't kill the Joker. It will be completely tainting that hope and we can see its effects in The Dark Knight Returns II.

In any case, Tim was right about Batman needing a Robin. Because in the end, Batman is just that--a man. And Robin is a child.

Lego Batman is really good for this reason. The concept of found family in that movie is just amazing. I love how Bruce fears having a family again after he lost his old one.

Batman needs a Robin because Batman was originally born out of a vengeance scheme of an 8-year-old newly orphaned boy who lost everyone. Trauma lasts. Batman needs a Robin because Robin is a family. And that little boy who lost his parents needs it. And so does Robin.

I love in Young Jusitce when Batman says "So that he doesn't" in response to Wonder Woman asking him if he pulled Robin into this life "So that he turns out like you?". Because Dick was also a little boy bent on revenge. Bruce gave that to him in the only way he knew how, but a better version because he himself has matured and understands how dark he has gotten. He doesn't want that for Dick, or Jason, or Tim, or Damian, or Cass--or any of his kids. He gave them early on what he didn't have--a family. And he received a family back. And having that family keeps Batman from tipping oved the edge into insanity. Because revenge is a poison, even if it's an 8-year-old boy imagining it.

But that still doesn't change that he sees it as a war. And he sees Robin and himself as soldiers.

So I came to a conclusion.

He doesn't.

Bruce doesn't.

Batman does.

Here's how I'm piecing it out:

"A Good Soldier" carved on the memorial case because only soldiers can fight so openly and outwardly. Even if they're dubbed as vigilantes, they are soldiers. And I think Bruce thinks it this way.

So when he sees a Robin or a Batkid out there, kicking rapists in the face and whatnot, he sees how someone so young can bear so much weight. He sees how a child can hold so much bravery--like the soldiers in the frontlines--doing this because of the morals they believe in. He sees how Robin is a good fighter, a good helper, a brave one, a confident person, a soft hero.

He sees how Robin is all that and he thinks "A good soldier." Because Robin is one. With the thing they're doing, he is one.

But yes, it's wrong. Children cannot and should not be soldiers. But a) this is the worst type of fiction, comic fiction 😂 and b) Batman is fucked up himself and considering he started training to be Batman from a young age too, he himself was a child soldier.

In the world of DC comics, the people there need someone like Batman while the people in the Earth we live in need someone like Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Malala Yousufzai, etc.

So yeah, Robin is a good soldier--a great soldier, because he holds the bravery, determination and strength of a soldier. It could mean a literal thing, but it could also mean a metaphorical thing. Bruce could have engraved those words to Jason's memorial case because the only thing he can think of to sum up how Jason was as a Robin was a soldier. Because soldiers are brave, and Jason was the bravest.

And I think comic writers after that took the whole "war against crime" psyche of Batman too literally and too much creating the abusive ass prick in some of the continuities.

But you can't tell me that Bruce--not Batman--Bruce has a case of his own for Jason. Maybe a physical one, maybe an imaginitive one. A case which holds Jason's annotated copy of Pride and Prejudice, his first aced test paper, and his favorite hoodie, all kept tidily in the case with the words "a good son, be well loved, Jay lad" written under it. A case which he holds private because it was his son who he lost. Jason.

A little boy who survived so much until he couldn't. A little boy who he tried to protect until he couldn't. His son. Jason.

[shuttershocky]

how do you feel about iori/saber so far by the way, whether as a ship or just their dynamic in general

I really like their dynamic!

While Iori and Saber themselves are full of callbacks to the original Shirou and Saber, their relationship dynamic is something that's all their own.

Usually a servant like FSR Saber would have belonged to a more emotional master. Saber starts the game out as an arrogant, destructive force and a bit of a bully, constantly going "Good grief my master's so weak! How did I get such a weak master when I can solo this whole thing? I should just kill everybody that gets in my way."

Rather than get upset or insecure however, Iori's humility and martial discipline ends up making a wall for Saber's arrogance to repeatedly bounce off of. When told he's weak, he goes "You are right. I don't fight because I'm strong, but because I should." When Saber talks down to him saying his presence doesn't change the outcome of a fight whatsoever, he just goes "I know. I'm doing the best I can."

This doesn't just eventually warm Saber up to him, but it also ends up creating the soul of their dynamic for the rest of the game. Saber's powerful, impulsive, and free in all their aspects, while Iori is measured, disciplined, and tied down (he's poor, he's an orphan, he's a warrior in an age of peace). This leads to fun gags like Saber having that classic Saber gluttony which wreaks havoc on Iori as a poor ronin living hand to mouth every day, but where this really shines is in how it makes its own twist in the original dynamic of Shirou and Saber.

Underneath Shirou and Saber's relationship was the recognition of themselves in the other. Both were willing to give up their entire lives for the greater good without once thinking of themselves, and seeing it in the other person horrified them because that was someone they cared about, while making a special exception for their own self-sacrifice.

In Samurai Remnant, Saber wonders how could such a weak human have summoned a servant as powerful as them, but the answer slowly becomes obvious as their relationship grows. Hiding underneath Saber's smug nature is a legend known for brutally killing anything and everything that stood in their way, whether that be armies, kings, monsters, or even gods. Why? What could compel a human to put a god to the sword just because they were ordered to? How broken and terrible inside must you be to see an aspect of divine power and feel no fear, only the desire to fight and to kill something that should be untouchable by a human?

The most delicious part of Iori and Saber's developing relationship is Saber slowly realizing that the bravery in Iori's eyes when he (literally) locks blades with a Servant is not bravery, but something much more familiar.

It should also be said that FSR Saber is one of the extremely few servants (if not the first even) to cry about the thought of leaving their Master after the ritual has ended.

Bittersweet goodbyes have been a mainstay of the series since Fate/Stay Night, but FSR is the first time in my memory that we see a Servant look back at the short, second life they've been given and actually break into tears about not wanting to go.

Going back to the throne of heroes would mean returning to legend. They'd be the bloodstained killer and godslayer. Unparalleled, feared, revered, and alone. Meanwhile in this incarnation, they run around doing odd jobs every day to afford rice, assumed by the neighbors to be the new fiance of the poor ronin that lives in a shack, destined to be forgotten by history like everyone around them living humble and ordinary lives. And now that they've tasted it, they don't want to go back. They've fallen in love with this life, and have to live out the rest of the Waxing Moon Ritual knowing they don't have a choice about going back.

It's soooooo good. Such a perfect capture of that vintage Type-Moon feeling, I'd almost forgotten this wasn't even written by TM themselves but by the Fire Emblem Three Houses team.

[nightsdreamgates]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is one of my special posts apresenting bit by bit my AU ... To begin with I want to introduce you guys to some of my OCs, who are created by the concept of "first level Nightopians".

There will be a quick introduction about each of them, with other special posts introducing other elements of the AU, such as the Nightopia, Nightmare, Ideyas, Awakers, Levels, etc... So stay tuned for the others!

° . • *

The Guardians:

Origins — Quick introduction

From the other side of the Dreamgates, there's Nightopia's lands, filled with habitats, nature and all that is positive and true from the essence of a `good dream`. Nightopia is filled by diverse of fun, charismatic and sympathetic creatures, which each has their own quirkness. Those mostly called as "Nightopians", residents of Nightopia, citizens that has a history of deep connection with the Ideyas, being their main font (along with the visitor) of life and creation. Nightopians are what is called the "third level" thingies, that are small, social and pretty much the most common one; along with a superpian, who's the "second level" in that situation.

But who are the Guardians? Simple ... The Guardians are the "first level" of a nightopian, the protectors, embodiment of the Fragments of Conscience (known also as the Fragments of Ideyas as well). These Fragments, belongs to Sandmother, the Awaker of Nightopia, bringer of harmony and dreams. These Guardians each of them, were emerged once the Fragments turned part of the lands, with a beautiful story tale, told by common pians' among the young:

" During the periods, where the visitors were attacked by intense nightmares, by the worst centuries and historic moments of their life, their own Ideyas, Land and Self, is what brought Guardians to existence - no creation made by Sandmother's hands, besides her willing to let her Fragments being used only by justice, never by corruption. "

° . • *

Introductions - °.

The 5 Guardians of Dreams:

🔴 Cora the Guardian of Courage:

Embodied by flames, surrounded by power, determination and bravery. The most fearless Guardian, with piercing eyes that leads scared visitors into victory. Cora is a quiet, stern, firm but yet generous and caring, even if his fire seems to burn intensely, it would never harm any innocent. He's the first Guardian to awaken, considered to be one of the most important among his kind — with a sense of leadership. His body also is covered by magma and rocks, wearing nothing much but a armor and metallic fiber that acts like tecid or leather.

🟢 Sage the Guardian of Growth:

Whistling sounds that soothes your soul, keeps your mind and heart connected as wisdom fills into you; the trees are full of history that, if they had mouths, we would had learn so much about our ancestor's pasts. Sage is a philosopher, poet, kindred soul with a hint of sly and tricky nature, just like the woods. He has a monk style looks, specially in demeanor in battles, always teaching visitors to never let the negativity overtake the best of them, that all comes with time and learning. Mistakes to Sage, is nothing but rocks in roads that helps us to grow on how to pass on them and not repeat them. He's the second guardian to awake, to guide visitors to overtake their negativity and grown in soul, person and emotionally.

🔵 Aqua the Guardian of Intelligence:

The seas are filled with wonders, just like the human kind. So many types of fishes, corals, algaes and chemicals in the sea that makes us wonder what's in the deep of the deeper part of a iceberg. Aqua is a smart, analytic and motherly at same time. Intelligence never was about being good in math, on contrary, each human being has their very own type of intelligence, and if we chase after it, we'll overtake the ignorance, insecurities about our capacities and insecurities. Aqua is the third guardian to awake, teaching visitors and testing their knowledge in emotional, critical to dimensional thinking.

⚪ Polar the Guardian of Innocence:

The cold comforting breeze brushes our faces as that smell of childhood comes back to bring us bittersweet memories, reminding us of our innocence that still lives inside of us, like the sense of the snowflakes falling in a christmas night. Polar is a heartwarming, mindful, kind and pure guardian, representing that all ages, all kinds, can be a good person even if they had lose it. Purity never was about being innocent as a child, is about being clean out of corruption from the world, clean from all the loss of kindness and entering to a healing process of regaining that part you never could have when you were younger. She is the fourth guardian go awake, looking for visitors out and giving them the opportunity of a new start in life with no hurting others because of your own hatred.

🟡 Saiph the Guardian of Hope:

Between shadows, at the end of the path, there's always a flickering light that guides us out of desperation and dismotivation. Saiph is a guardian with a heart of gold, forward, opportunistic yet gentle and merciful, the last one to awake, the most necessary among the others. Without hope, it would be hard to believe things will get an end, so don't let the darkness eat out your vision and never stop believing in a better future. Nothing shines brighter than the eyes of a young teen that has hope of better days.

° . • *

So far that will be all I will write about them, is 3am and I am almost fainting here, but besides that, that's just the beginning of the progress, there will be more posts like this one, along with drawings as references for this universe. ASKS are allowed if you wanna know more about my AU or abt my guardians, feel welcomed!

[masterofrecords]

The Ravages of Time episode 6

After so long, it's finally here! This was a lot of work for something that maybe two and a half people will read, but I had a lot of fun with it and am ridiculously proud of everything I've learned working on this.

Episode 6

I say Lü Bu is not human

Lü Bu, courtesy name Fengxian, was a famous general of the late Eastern Han dynasty, a skilled horseback archer and a brave and experienced warrior.

Lü Bu was appointed a Registrar by the Bingzhou governor Ding Yuan [1], but later killed him and became Dong Zhuo’s sworn son [2], acting as the official in charge of the imperial palace security, then grew suspicious of Dong Zhuo, and killed him with the help of the Minister over the Masses Wang Yun [3]. He then tried to join Yuan Shu [4], but was refused, and instead turned to Yuan Shao [5], only to again be met with suspicion, and later joined Zhang Yang [6]. After that, Lü Bu and Cao Cao opposed each other for two years. Lü Bu was also occasionally allies, occasionally enemies with Liu Bei, creating the story of Lü Bu shooting the halberd [5].

On the third year of Liu Xie’s third reign (should be around 199 CE), after Lü Bu defeated Liu Bei and Xiahou Dun [6], Cao Cao personally went on a campaign against him. There was a rebellion in Lü Bu’s forces, and he was defeated and taken prisoner. Cao Cao had Lü Bu executed.

---

Readmore here because there are so many notes...

[1] Ding Yuan – a warlord who was summoned to Luoyang alongside with Dong Zhuo to assist in the power struggle against the eunuchs, but arrived slightly later. According to the Records of the Three Kingdoms, he was originally from a poor family and rose to power through his bravery and sense of responsibility. Just like Lü Bu, he was a skilled rider and archer.

[2] Sworn son – typically translated as “adopted son”. However, I wanted to dive a little deeper into the nature of their relationship – see this post on the matter.

[3] Wang Yun – a Han dynasty official and politician known mostly for his part in Dong Zhuo’s murder. That was the height (at the time he was the Minister over the Masses – one of the three highest posts in Han dynasty) and the end of his career – within a few months, he was assassinated by Dong Zhuo’s followers in Chang’an.

[4] Yuan Shu – a Han dynasty warlord with an admittedly long and curious biography that won’t all fit here – besides, he’ll be an active participant in the events I assume will make it into the donghua. For now, after Dong Zhuo fled Luoyang, Yuan Shu came into the possession of the Imperial Seal, given to him by his subordinate Sun Jian.

[5] Yuan Shao – another Han dynasty warlord and another active participant in the Late Han politics. He and Yuan Shu did not have a good relationship, partially due to the circumstances of Yuan Shao’s birth. Now this is where things get complicated. English Wikipedia will tell you that he was Yuan Shu’s half-brother, but that’s… not really known, and under the circumstances, I don’t think any certain claims can be made. Yuan Shao was the son of a servant, and later adopted by Yuan Shu’s uncle Yuan Cheng who had no heirs (he is referred as just Yuan Cheng’s “son”, and if you’ve read the “sworn sons” post, looks like it was one of those relationships that gave him the family name and the right to inherit). Either way, despite the shady circumstances of birth, his status was higher than that of Yuan Shu’s, which didn’t stop Yuan Shu from claiming Yuan Shao wasn’t a “true” Yuan when they had disputes. Family.

[6] Zhang Yang – this Han dynasty general didn’t die by Lü Bu’s hand, but he was murdered by a subordinate a few years later while trying to help Lü Bu in his struggle against Cao Cao. He was described as a brave warrior, but wasn’t as involved in court politics as Yuan Shu or Yuan Shao. From what I’ve read in his biography, it almost sounds like politics was happening to him and not the other way around – he was mostly kept out of real power by the people in charge, even when they recognized his talents and contributions.

[7] The story of Lü Bu shooting the halberd is a famous story from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Basically a feat of unmatched marksmanship, but more on that later.

In chapter 16 of the novel, Lü Bu gets caught between two opposing forces of Liu Bei and Ji Ling (Yuan Shu’s general). Ji Ling, who had helped Lü Bu previously, was threatening Liu Bei, and Liu Bei, despite the reservations of his allies, decided to turn to Lü Bu for help. Not wanting to directly oppose Ji Ling and yet also not wanting him to win and gain more strength, Lü Bu called the two of them to his camp to settle things. While Liu Bei was eager to reach a peaceful solution, Ji Ling was intent on fighting. Finally, Lü Bu asked for his halberd, had it set in the ground 150 paces away and made a deal with the two that if Lü Bu could shoot the small blade from a bow, they’d leave peacefully. Certain that the task was impossible, Ji Ling agreed, Lü Bu shot the halberd, and thus the matter was temporarily resolved.

Now, just to put things into perspective, 150 paces is… a lot. To the best of my knowledge, during Han dynasty that would have been around 200 meters (650 feet) (even more if we assume the early Ming dynasty measurements of the time of the writing, that would be about 240 meters (790 feet)). Just… that’s an insane distance for archery. In modern Olympic archery (with the fancy bows and equipment), the largest distance for a recurve bow is 70 meters (230 feet). In traditional archery competitions, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything over 40 meters (130 feet), and the typical distance is 20 meters (65 feet).

I don’t have a conclusion for this, really. Although Lü Bu is typically depicted with a halberd, there’s a reason one of his main defining characteristics is that he was an excellent archer. Of course, this is a fictional tale, but it certainly goes to show how Lü Bu was perceived.

[8] Xiahou Dun – one of Cao Cao’s trusted generals, nicknamed “one-eyed Xiahou” after he lost his eye to a stray arrow some time in the late 190’s. In historical records he is described just as a loyal and humble warrior as well as thoughtful administrator who kept the needs of the common folk in mind. The Romance of the Three Kingdoms really leaned into the whole one-eyed general thing though, describing him yanking the arrow (shot by Lü Bu in this version) out and eating his eyeball.

And now onto episode spoilers!

The song Xiao Meng sings before Dong Zhuo is unfortunately a song written for the show, since Xu Lin is a fictional character, and isn’t an actual old poem. Not sure if Guanshan Road there refers to a specific road, I haven’t been able to find a name for anything period-appropriate, so it could have just been a generic reference to a path through a mountain pass.

The official subtitles are a bit unclear in the part of Dong Zhuo’s speech where the dragon appears, because the translation… doesn’t feature a dragon? It goes something like, “A ruler will be revered by thousands of people wherever he goes. The real ruler is in our hands right now!” The actual words are more like, “Wherever he goes, he will be a dragon revered by thousands of people. This true dragon is now in our hands.”

(Additionally, having finally got around to reading at least the very beginning of the manhua, I actually get why sleeping with Dong Zhuo is absolutely not an option for Xiao Meng. It’s completely omitted in the donghua, but in the manhua Xiao Meng is in fact a eunuch.)

Pretty sure the instructor of the Imperial Guards Yuan Tai is a fictional character.

I had the funniest reaction after reaching the scene of Xiao Meng refusing Dong Zhuo, because that was the first time I fully realized the fake name is Diao Chan. The legendary beauty Diao Chan. And then I went back and rewatched episode 2. And indeed, Xiao Meng is sent to Wang Yun, Minister over the Masses, and I completely missed it then, too busy agonizing over Lü Bu’s halberd and the timelines.

It hasn’t really come up in previous notes, because it’s a fictional story used in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, but there, part of the reason for the disagreements between Lü Bu and Dong Zhuo is a woman named Diao Chan (often stylized as Diaochan), Wang Yun’s daughter.

Actually, Diao Chan as Lü Bu’s wife appeared in previous stories, too, the depictions ranging from a woman completely unaware of the surrounding conspiracies to a femme fatale. But I think it was the Romance of the Three Kingdoms that established her connection to Wang Yun and sets Diao Chan as Dong Zhuo’s concubine that Lü Bu falls in love with.

Obviously that’s not what happens in The Ravages of Time, but that story was still clearly a source of inspiration. Though now I have to wonder, with Xiao Meng exposed, will Wang Yun’s involvement in the story change, or will they gloss over that part completely?..

[enneamalia]

Heathers Enneagram:

Veronica: 4w3

Heather Chandler: 3w2

Heather Duke: 3w4

Heather MacNamara: 6w7

JD: 1w9

Martha: 9w1

Notes:

Veronica and JD are both most definitely in the idealist triad, it’s part of the reason why their relationship is the way that it is and why JD was able to get so far before Veronica stopped him. The idealism is core to their identities which is part of the reason why i don’t agree with the common read of Veronica as a core 5

I can see both disintegration to 2 and integration to 1 in Veronica’s character arc (her relationships with JD and Heather C are where the 2 disintegration shows the most while her courage and bravery to take charge and do what’s right at the end shows the 1 integration). she craves the drama and intensity her relationships with JD and the Heathers bring to her life which is a very VERY strong sign of a 4 (ie craving the full breadth of human experience and emotions, including the bad parts because it makes her feel alive). she feels the need to set herself apart from her peers, mentioning how she feels everyone around her is shallow and mean (and in the cafeteria scene in the movie she clearly resents how fake her classmates are). the first thing that she notices about JD is that he’s different from others and she likes that about him. she’s looking for deeper human connection in JD because her time with the Heathers makes her feel like she can’t really be herself. she’s also got that type 4 sarcastic sense of humor, one of the most memorable parts of her character. in the musical she absolutely has the 3 wing but i could probably read her as a 4w5 for the movie if i wanted to

JD obviously has delusions of grandeur and i can see him being typed as a 3 or 4 if that’s the only thing you pay attention to. personally i feel that his motivations are a warped sense of right and wrong w/ a very strict black and white view on morals. he sees himself as a hero and thinks that it’s his personal duty to right the wrongs of society (even though he goes about it in an extremely messed up way, that is what he believes). the combination of those things with his repeated insistence that he’s incredibly broken makes me type him as a 1 who has disintegrated to 4. also i can’t see him as anything other than idealism triad and gut triad (he’s got that signature brand of type 1 rage that often gets people mistyping as 8s)

Debated 3w4 vs 3w2 for Duke for a while but i think the way she allowed herself to take the backseat to Chandler and also her themes of jealousy lend to the 4 wing more. literally could not be anything other than a core 3 so i’m not even going into that

Originally had Chandler typed as an 8 but after reviewing type 8’s fears and desires i don’t think it quite fits. yes she wants power but she seems to be more motivated by everyone else thinking that she’s impossibly hot and in a league above them all. there’s a bit of grandiosity about it, she wants to be viewed as a god. 8s don’t really care about what other people think of them and are much more individualistic. i still think an 8 reading of her character is not impossible but i am leaning more towards 3

MacNamara is very obviously a 6, her themes of loyalty and being willing to do anything to have a group to belong to are very 6 motivations. she’s played as a noticeably anxious character in the stage adaptation and i think her 6ness is more solid in the musical than the movie. 7 wing based entirely on vibes idk

Went back and forth between 9w1 and 2w1 for a bit with martha and honestly i still don’t really know but i think her whole being in love with the idealized version of some guy she barely knows for years gives me more 9 than 2. also her biggest desire is just to “be happy” which i interpret as desiring that whole inner peace thing. in kindergarten boyfriend she describes a cute idyllic fantasy which reminds me of the fantasies and inner world of a 9. she just gives the effect of being a 9 that could easily be mistyped as a 2. but i’m not 100%

[lordofthestrix]

💭 + power

send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic. I'm in fundamental disagreement with some habitual readings of Tristan as power-hungry at a rather basic level. I think his ambitions are actually nuanced and complex. I actually would go as far as to express that there is enough canon-material to rightfully argue that Tristan is not interested at all in power for power's sake. He doesn't even respect it. A common backstory within the TVD universe, not only among vampires, involves all kinds of characters who grow an obsession or fixation with power mainly because they felt powerless at some previous point of their lives. But Tristan doesn't fit this. I would say he had a complicated relationship with power even as a human. Often feeling like the most powerful person in the room, even more than his father, and yet in some aspects also frustratingly perceiving himself as the the one with least say on some matters. I think he grew up exploring the subtleties and contradictions of different forms of power. He interprets it as a useful if potentially treacherous tool. But just a tool in the the end. Never the objective in itself. Power as a form of control doesn't hold any allure to him because Tristan never needed to have these more raw variations of power in order to feel like the one in control. He already does. Tristan as a human, confronting the "demons" invading his home: Klaus: "This is not going to be pleasant." Tristan: "Do so at your peril."

But this was him as a human!- an observer might say. Surely he changed his tune with time. Tristan's first instinct a millennium later, at a table that included two Originals and an exceedingly powerful witch. Tristan: Harm my sister and I'll be forced to return the favor.

Facing someone with inherent strength, speed or "power" that surpasses his own is never something Tristan cowers from. It is a matter of methodology. And in this I would like to compare him with Lucien. Because I believe their perspectives contrast each other interestingly. See these two quotes, side by side. Lucien: I will leave you with one lesson. Against vampires, humans always lose.  ---- Hayley: These vampires are ancient. How is Marcel supposed to beat one of them? Tristan: With guile, courage...perhaps a bit of trickery. Lucien's traumas stem from those who wronged him and were hierarchically above him in one way or another (Tristan included) It is understandable to develop a point of view from where the solution is entirely hierarchical as well. His answer is to "upgrade" himself until he is the one on the top. For Tristan, who grew up among the the ones who were at the top and observed them well, anyone can already be beaten. His solution is to outmaneuver, outsmart and outplay. And this mixture of bravery and intelligence is something he highlights in another episode as a formidable combination. But Lex...Doesn't he spend century after century seeking for more power? I'm glad you asked, my imaginary interviewer. And my answer is: Is that what he is seeking? Aya: Tristan has been a collector of extraordinary talent for the better part of a millennium. He chooses the best of the best and helps them evolve. Aya: One of our more famous faces. We count amongst our society celebrated actors, artists, politicians... Of course, most of us prefer to live a life outside of the public eye. That doesn't make our talents any less impressive. Aya:  We're the top of the food chain. The smartest, the strongest. And, we take what we want. The Strix under Tristan is not an army (although it certain can and will be employed as one if there is need to see it adopting such role) It is...Well...A court. There are within its ranks some extraordinarily remarkable warriors. But it is also a pinnacle of the arts. Of accomplishment, influence and marvel. Power is another factor among these. But only one. All of these divisions give us a clue concerning Tristan's genuine fixation. Because while it isn't power itself, Tristan does have an eternal fascination of his own: Greatness. Uniqueness. Talent. Creativity. That fusion of bravery and cunning. The remarkable and the sublime. Even beauty is in here, considering some of his comments. Forms of greatness. These are the things Tristan exhibits sincere, personal interest towards. Power is, once again, a tool. Even when he directly addresses power on the show it is always under the particular lenses of "special among.." and "like no other." Power and influence are instruments to create the music he wishes to hear. It serves to protect what is worthy of being protected and to get him what he yearns for. Now I feel awfully tempted to go on, rambling about my headcanons regarding why Tristan feels this constant beckoning towards greatness. Because while he mostly enjoys the hunt, it isn't unimportant to notice that a part of him feels that he must do the things he does. As an obligation to himself. But that wasn't the chosen word. And I tortured you with enough of a long answer already.

[bostoniangirl85]

‘Inspector Gadget’ (1983) episode review: ‘Movie Set’

I’ve been tinkering with a fic featuring Lana Lamour and rewatched the episode “Movie Set”, which led me to do this episode review. There’s a lot of my random headcanons in here, so this is a long one.^^

I love Chief Quimby’s theme that plays whenever he appears. Character themes are such a trademark of 80s and early 90s cartoons.^^ Also, after watching the entire original series I’m convinced Quimby is a secret agent and his title of Police Chief is just a cover. Same with Gadget.

In regards to Gadget’s binocular vision, it’s hard to tell from the episodes since they deploy so quickly, but it looks to me like the binoculars emerge either from Gadget’s fedora, or it’s also possible they deploy from his eyelids. I just really like the idea of Gadget’s gadgets being part of his body as well as his hat. The Gadget hands emerge from his hat, but it’s also possible that some of the larger gadgets like the ‘copter and ‘brella emerge from Gadget’s body. We never get a definitive answer from the series so this is always fun to explore in fanfics.^^ Plus if so many gadgets were in the hat, and the hat was ever lost or damaged, it would make Gadget very vulnerable and I just can’t see Professor Von Slickstein being so careless as to make Gadget so dependent on his hat.

I just love the little detail that Gadget’s modifications to the paper airplane actually did make it go farther. I think this shows that in some ways Gadget’s brain functions just fine, just not in the correct order as other people.

I mentioned this before, but I’m convinced Lana Lamour was modeled/inspired by Lana Turner. The physical similarities are too clear, and Turner was known for playing femme fatales in her films.

Okay, this can’t be ignored - Gadget’s behavior does not put him in the best light in this episode. Gadget in the original series is definitely a ladies’ man, and I can’t help but wonder if on some level Gadget knows that some people may view him as a freak/not fully human. Gadget is oblivious in the 80s cartoon, but he’s not stupid either. He has moments of true clarity and insight, and we can’t deny that he’s incredibly brave (even if that bravery stems from ignorance). I discussed this in another post a while ago, but we don’t known how much of Gadget’s body is machine vs. flesh and blood. Can he have children? Can he have a fully physical relationship with someone else? My personal theory is that Gadget knows deep down on some level that others may not see him as human, and he subconsciously tries to overcompensate with being overly confident, combined with whatever happened to his memories when he was first turned into a cyborg. If Gadget were in his right mind and his memories not impaired, I think he would have no trouble finding a partner because he is very charismatic and has a lot of confidence. Unfortunately as he is now with his scrambled Brain Gadget sometimes comes across as arrogant, even if he’s coming with the best of intentions.

Now let’s talk about Penny. I love how she’s clearly annoyed with Gadget’s behavior at the beginning of the episode and scolds him to focus on his assignment. Which leads to an interesting thought if Penny ever wishes for a mother figure? We don’t known what happened to Penny’s parents, or if Gadget is her uncle by blood/marriage/adoption, but I’m sure as Penny got into her teens she would want some guidance from a woman. I don’t think Penny would ever begrudge Gadget getting married and finding a partner, but Penny is very protective of Gadget also and I think her annoyance is equal measures concern for Gadget and not wanting him to get hurt, and not wanting someone like Lana as a stepmother in her life. Penny’s got enough on her plate already.^^

And maybe Penny’s juuuust a bit jealous when she sees Lana in person and mutters, “she doesn’t look so great.” I love that moment.^^

(Gadget to Penny): “I’ll already have my hands full with Lana.” *face-palm* Good lord, Gadget, your niece is 10! Only in the 80s could you have these sorts of lines, lol.

I wonder if Lana was an actress before joining M.A.D., or vice versa? I’m going with that she was an actress first (though not quite A-list Hollywood) and joined M.A.D. at some point in her career for her own reasons. Also, I think her accent is fake for her role - she just uses it as a cover but doesn’t actually talk like that. My personal headcanon is that Lana has a New England/Yankee accent but quickly learned to hide it so she could advance in the film industry.

How can Gadget not recognize Penny when she’s tied up right in front of him?! There’s only two possible explanations - either Gadget’s memories and ability to recognize faces are truly impaired, or he’s a damn fine actor. He also doesn’t seem to question why Penny and Brain are at the set at the end of the series. I’m assuming it’s the weekend or summer vacation.

That’s about it for now - let me know your thoughts!  :)

[the-bastard-and-the-pup]

Whumptober 2022: No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN

Cornered | Confrontation

Warning for homophobic slur

(I did it, Mirrorworlders and Fox Siblings! This is the "Will and Nerron meet the asshole treasure hunter from Glass of Lead and Gold between books 3 and 4" fic I have been wanting to write for you forever! Also the story of their first hug. I hope you enjoy!)

"If it isn't the Bastard. I didn't think I'd meet one of your kind this far east. Are you hiding from Jacob Reckless here? I bet not having him around should be doing wonders for your career." Will saw Nerron's lip pull upwards into a brief snarl at the sound of the voice, baring his fangs for a second, but when he turned around from where he was sitting at the bar next to Will, his expression was one of mocking annoyance.

"And what about your career, Jakes? Still trying and failing to steal from little girls or have you started putting some actual work in?" The man standing in front of them did not posses an ounce of the skill Goyl had with schooling one's expression, his skin turning an angry red.

"Perhaps you need to get your rumours from better sources."

"Honestly, I really think I don't. Would you like to talk about your shortcomings some more? Such a broad subject and I would happily provide a new perspective." Will hid his smile by taking a sip of his drink because he felt like openly laughing would not deescalate the situation. Nevertheless, he enjoyed witnessing the exchange.

"I just want you to know that I was here first. So I suggest you pick something else to find", Jakes hissed. Nerron raised his eyebrows.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, we were originally just passing through." His face pulled into a grin that gave a good view of his teeth. "Though now you want us to leave, I am starting to get interested in this town."

"Careful, Goyl. You are far east. People here rarely get to see your kind."

"And therefore have less strong hard feelings about my kind than westerners."

"Just some advice between colleagues. I'll let you and your... companion enjoy your evening." Turning to leave, he addressed Will. "I commend you for your bravery, kid. I would want these teeth anywhere near my private parts. A word of warning, though? Make sure you remain useful and stay clear of bodies of water. His kind are prone to drowning those who outlive their usefulness."

The flying knife was a silver glint in the air that landed in the wall next to Jakes' face. The treasure hunter had a moment of startled surprise before Nerron leaned into his space, his hand closed around the knife next to the human.

"Does it look like I would need a body of water to end your life?", he hissed and leaned closer until their faces nearly seemed to touch. Many humans tended to get uncomfortable around Goyl and Will saw Jakes try to recoil with trying to get away from a creature his instincts told him was a predator.

"No, it doesn't", he bit out. "Is that what you want to hear? And you can back off, I am very much not interested. How about you behave like a civilised person and go back to your boy there, fag-" Will's stomach clenched, he hadn't had any idea this insult existed behind the mirror as well. But after all, even with all the magical objects and beings in this world, humans were humans. It occurred to Will that the subject of Nerron's attractions (in light of Sixteen's presence, Will hadn't felt the need to talk about himself in this regard) had never come up. Though to be fair, Nerron was rarely forthcoming when asked such personal questions.

Distracted by his thoughts, Will noticed only now why Jake had stopped talking abruptly and followed his line of sight to find the cause for it. He didn't have to look further than the small, human-like creature Nerron pulled out of his coat pocket.

"You really think your pet can just try to steal from me like that? Such a reckless little thing. Crawling into the wrong pocket could get it killed... so... very. Easily." Never breaking eye contact with Jake, he curled his fingers tighter and tighter around the little creature, making sure one of his claws was resting against the thin throat. Something cold seemed to grab Will's insides while observing the scene. Of course he had seen his friend fight and kill, but that had always been in defence of their lives. He had never done so for such sadistic reasons and Will found he didn't want to see it happen.

Jakes' jaw worked furiously, obviously trying to think of a way to stop Nerron, but not able to come up with one. Which Nerron noticed, a cold gleam in his eyes. Just when Will was about to step in, Nerron loosened his grip and pushed the thumbling into Jakes' coat pocket.

"If you'll excuse us, we need to get back on the road now." Nothing about Nerron's smile was remotely friendly. "I wish you the very worst of luck for this job." Without looking back, he pulled his knife out of the wall, picked up his sword and coat from his chair and left through the inn door. Distantly, Will thought about how his self from three years ago might have stayed to make some peace with Jakes. Now, he followed Nerron with no more than a brief nod at the man.

Once outside, Will sped up to a jogging pace until he caught up with Nerron on the way to their camp outside of town. Will had no idea what to say. Clearly, Nerron had been set off by something Jake had said, but... finding out what was a delicate matter. Saying the wrong thing might drive Nerron away and if the suggestion they could be intimate had offended him, addressing it in any way could be very bad indeed. Though Will very much hoped it wouldn't.

Nerron didn't acknowledge Will's presence until they had left town and were halfway to their camp, where he stopped walking.

"Aren't you worried about going to our camp with me? I might drown you in the nearest pond", he snarled without looking at Will. So this was why Nerron was so agitated. 'You won't, after all, your king needs me', Will might have joked, but this was not what should be said here. Instead, Will decided to share something he had never addressed before.

"I'm not worried. This isn't the first time someone told me things like that about you." Now he had Nerron's attention.

"What?"

"Two weeks after we started travelling together, one of your informants asked me if I still had all my fingers. Another if both my eyes are real. I also got the advice not to talk too much around you if I wanted to keep my tongue. I never cared about any of it and I'm certainly not going to start now."

"You saw me throw a knife at someone over a simple insult and then I nearly crushed-"

"I don't think the insult was simple. Don't forget that I spent time around Hentzau. I remember what people say about the Onyx. Not much of it, but... enough." I know what would have been done to you if the Onyx had decided you weren't of use to them. "And I know enough about you to know you're not like that. What happened in the inn didn't bring you pleasure. Just look at you. You hate the mere suggestion you could be like them."

"My reputation must have come from somewhere." But there was something else than defensive anger and pain in Nerron's voice now. That tentative hope let Will rake a step closer.

"I'm sure you did what you had to in order to get it. But having built that reputation saves one from having to act upon it too often, doesn't it? You're my best friend and you don't ever need to worry about me being afraid of you. Even when you're cornered and scared. In fact, do... would you like a hug?"

"We- we have found a gap in my vocabulary there. What are you offering?" The fact that Nerron had never been in a situation to learn the human word "hug" made Will want to give one all the more.

"Oh, it's the same as... maybe "embrace" is a word you heard before? It's something that helps me sometimes so I thought I'd offer." In this world of magic and fairy tales, a creature Will hadn't even known existed for most his life stood and looked at him like he was the most impossible thing in the universe.

"I haven't received a... hug in a long time, I think", Nerron admitted quietly. "But if you're offering..."

"I am and I also promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone. Come here." In theory, nothing about a stone creature with fangs and claws who was wearing scaly leather clothing and several weapons was huggable. In praxis, all these things were still there, but after a few seconds of stiffness, Nerron also practically melted into the arms Will put around him. And after another couple of moments, a pair of arms circled Will's back in an imitation of what he was doing. Even though this wasn't meant for his own comfort, Will allowed himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath where his face was pressed against stone skin. He had no idea how much time had passed before Nerron's hands lightly patted Will's back and he started to extract himself. Will hurried to react quickly so he wouldn't hold Nerron for longer than he was comfortable with.

"There's more where this came from", Will said with a smile, to spare Nerron the awkwardness of having to speak first. Nerron cleared his throat, the only sign he showed that his emotions had been affected by anything that had just taken place.

"Thank you. That is. Good to know for the future."

"Of course. Do you need rest tonight or should we pack up and get going?"

"I believe it's best if we put some distance between us and this town. Bartholomew Jakes is going to be livid as soon as he notices I nicked this while pushing his thumbling back into his pocket." He reached into his coat and pulled out something that looked like some kind of key, glowing faintly with engraved runes. An incredulous laugh erupted from Will, met with a smug grin from Nerron.

"Are we going to find the treasure before him, then?"

"We have better things to do, it's not like we are your brother. I just want to make this job as inconvenient as possible for him." The Goyl turned and flung the key into the nearest pond, where it disappeared in the murky water.

[sokkagatekeeper]

[parallel originally pointed out here]

it goes back to book one the way aang, katara, and zuko are set up to be the main thematic triad of the show, all three of them sharing the qualities of being idealists at heart, generally guided by a strict moral code they impose upon themselves, impulsively heroic at times to the point of naivety, and the belief that they have a great destiny to fulfill, for better or for worse. all of them have a certain legacy, a certain chosen one-ness to them, whether they are aware of the fact the entire time — aang as the avatar and the last airbender; katara as the last southern waterbender — or they have an idea, but aren't aware of the full picture until later on — zuko's legacy from both sozin and roku.

a triad is, of course, not made out of the dynamic of three characters together, but rather the individual pairs, then the function them three manage to balance out. in other words, it does not work like a/b/c but rather a&b / a&c / b&c. aang and zuko share, among many others, the weight of a crucial mistake they made in the past and are desperately trying to fix — mistake that, eventually, leads them to fully become the person they were meant to be; the meaning of identity as what you choose to be every day. zuko and katara share the most intense part of the triad — the rage and grief and anger, as well as the faith, hope, willingness and passion that comes with being a hero; they are the emotional fuel, the drive. aang and katara share the most intimate part of the story; of being a child, and a victim, and standing up despite and maybe because of this — both child survivors of genocide, finding solace in each other as each other's first and best friend, and as a grounding prescence in the midset of the cruel reality of war. when all three different dynamics are combined, you finally get the thematic triad — the three characters that embody the themes and values the show intends to portray and represent. the three of them are indoubtedly the heart of the show, and this is made clear throughout the entire first season. katara as the narrator of the story, aang as the protagonist, zuko as the deuteragonist (as well as antagonist, but in terms of primary titles the deuteragonist always comes first.) they are the most important characters, the basis for every other character that comes after, etc etc.

then there's sokka.

i like to think of sokka as the fourth part of the thematic triangle. he is not essential in the way aang, katara, and zuko are in theory, but he is still immediately established as a main character throughout the first book and accordingly developed in later books 2 and 3. and it works wonders, because while sokka's designated role of the comedic relief character would generally be considered enough to make him a main character, sokka is everything aang, katara, and zuko are not. i'd go as far as to say his entire character is contructed this way.

where aang and katara and zuko are idealists at heart, sokka's pessimism/skepticism is able to protect them from a possible threat their story-structured minds might have not been able to predict, for it might not fit the narrative they construct as it fits the reality of disaster that sokka is very much aware of — which is not to say that aang, katara, and zuko do not know the harsh realities of war, two of them being genocide victims and one of them being pretty much a war veteran, but merely to point out that they believe that somehow, everything will turn out exactly as it has to be above all, while sokka... doesn't, and he approaches every situation as such.

where aang, katara, and zuko are all some sort of chosen one and often act and think according to it, sokka does not have a great destiny to fulfill nor he believes in destiny as a concept. sokka is — self-admittedly — just some guy. the avatar's friend, the last southern waterbender's brother, the son of the chief, etc etc. his strength comes from his unique way of approaching things, his creativity and intelligence and most of all his identity as fundamentally, no one. sokka grew up to believe he was disposable in comparison and he actively worked — possibly even unconsciously — to be important, to be valuable, to be necessary. he was not born great, but achieved greatness, as one might say. the weight of being no one and having to work to become somebody contrasts beautifully with aang's and katara's and zuko's and even toph's inherent specialness, especially mixing up with aang's and zuko's concept of becoming who you are meant to be because of your choices.

where aang and zuko value human life above all else, and katara will never turn her back on people who need her, sokka is never afraid to get a little dirty when he wants things to go his way, or when there's simply more important things for him to worry about. sokka has what i like to call the practical murder syndrome, not necessarily as murder — though he does quite a lot of those and is willing to let zuko, ultimate deuteragonist extraordinarie, die in a blizzard, simply because it's convenient for them at the moment — but also as the way he's not willing to go out of his way to help every wretched village they come into contact with (see: the painted lady). sokka has his moral code, surely, and he has his limits, but while aang's morals, katara's morals, zuko's morals persist through war, pain, and punishment, sokka's morals are shaped by these concepts. this brings a certain balance to the text, to the group dynamic of the gaang, to the main cast in general, and it helps broadening the audience's perception and objectiveness as well. (see: katara is the narrator, and we mostly perceive the first part of the show and most of her relationship with sokka solely through her lens, but in reality sokka was more right than wrong, and that doesn't mean katara was wrong, either. once you watch the show twice, thrice, and you begin watching it objectively, sokka's motivations and general characterization becomes clearer, and makes more sense, despite opposing katara's point of view in so many ways.)

finally, where aang and katara and zuko are impulsively heroic, sokka is a chronic planner and organizer — while katara and aang are focused on fighting the firelord as an idea, sokka worries about how they will fight the firelord, and plans an entire invasion to give aang the window of opportunity to strike the final blow. while aang wants to fight off the fire nation as his duty as the avatar asks of him, sokka knows he's in no condition to fight, and in any case, there's still no need for him to waste his energies in a fight just yet. while katara wants to help people and fight for what's right, sokka needs to remain focused on the big picture, and when this doesn't do anything for katara's heroic nature, sokka offers an elaborate plan to make katara's bringing-of-justice as doable and safe as possible, for everyone involved. while zuko wants to defend his people against the injustices he knows he could have committed in another time, as his first instinct is always help them out, it's always this isn't fair, they deserve better than this, exactly the way he did it when he spoke against the massacre of the 41st division, sokka has to physically restrain him from making the same mistake zuko made at thirteen. because it's not that sokka cares less, but he knows when to care, and the way to do so as safe as possible — sokka is always planning things ahead, one might even say he overthinks, because albeit with a good reason, sokka is, at heart, kind of a coward. he's always tiptoeing between logic and reason, and outright paranoia. he is right to be a coward most of the time, because he knows bravery is a privilege, bravery comes with a price. he is right to be a coward because aang, katara, and zuko are not, and they are right, too.

sokka manages to perfectly balance the thematic triad of the show and its individual double dynamics possibly accidentally and on his own, giving the show its own taste of sokka's arc of broadening perspectives about the world and the people in it. the same way sokka is able to offer the logic and reason heroism often lacks when needed, aang and katara and zuko's idealism and heroism affects sokka in its own way, helping him to let go of this self-critical overthinker who often commits self-sabotage, to become some sort of unconventional hero himself — achieving this balance, undoubtedly makes sokka the fourth part of the thematic triangle.

[dreamteamspace]

MCYT subway au Part 3 because I’m a sucker for attention and the 2 ppl who made part 1 and 2 noticed me

Holiday Shift

- Everybody who works on the holiday gets double. Those that can’t work have to put their name on a list. Lowest entries and those that don’t enter need to work the shift. It’s Phil’s idea don’t ask

- George is the first to put his name there but Sapnap skribbles it out and makes sure everybody else gets their name in first. It’s his punishment for leaving Dream and him alone for rush hour when Karl was sick. Dream wasn’t all that mad but Sapnap Will Not let that shit slide

- Tommy gladly takes the oppertunity to not have to spend the entire day awkwardly hugging relatives and being told to keep their elbows off the table. Convinces Tubbo to join them, supposedly for the Money

- Dream: “So Karl did you put your name on the list yet?” Karl: “What list??”

- Shift staffing: George, Tubbo, Tommy and Karl

- George becomes the reluctant babysitter of what feels like three kids

- “Karl stop WASTING the bread we NEED THAT.”

- Tommy is told to go pull what they need for monday out of the freezer. Tubbo offers to come with him and holds his hand the entire time. They’re best friends your honor. Tommy promises Tubbo to make it up to him

- George does about 60% of the work on a four person shift. Swears to murder Sapnap on sight. Probably slaps a pastry in his face later

Promotion pt. 4: Taking Over

- Tommy begs Techno to join in support of Wilbur. Techno reluctantly agrees because he can’t really say no to Tommy and because he doesn’t really want to become manager anyway (too much paperwork and he’s fixating on the origins of vedgetables) 

- Tommy now adds #WilburForManager to his pogway stickers. Wilbur is also reluctantly Growing Soft in face of Tommy’s undying support

- Nobody knows why, but Quackity has the unspoken ability to make Schlatt give him sick leave or remove him from shift?? All Quackity has to do is point to his phone and give Schlatt a smug Look.

- Ppl are suspicious but really Quackity just has a video of Schlatt kissing a baby kitten in the face and talking to it in a high pitched soft voice

- Wilbur needs to visit extended family and leaves for 2 weeks. The day before he leaves is surprisingly light-hearted and Wilbur admits that Schlatt isn’t the worst manager imaginable. He lets them waste things sometimes and has yet to give anybody a cut for not showing up to a shift

- Dream can’t openly go against Schlatt, silently wishing he’d just put the milk in The Right Spot before his shift. But no. It never is. It’s always somewhere else. Always.

- Schlatt continues to place things in slightly different places than they belong and following his whim more than the rules. One time he didn’t order the dark chocolate cakes they sell because “Who likes those anyway”

- Phil is there more often to make sure Wilbur’s work is covered. The war continues to rage in stolen glares and misplaced ingredients.

- Bad and Skeppy are slowly genuinely growing concerned, watching the whole thing go down like a movie.

Promotion pt. 5: Adopted On Sight

- Schlatt tells Tubbo he’s doing great One Time because he literally saved Schlatt’s ass from being fired for the whole cakes thing by biking it to the nearest store that sells them and getting some

- Tubbo will now follow Schlatt around to ask him how he’s doing, if he did everything right, if he needs any help, how his morning went so far

- Schlatt does Not Know how to handle Tubbo and suddenly wishes for Wilbur to just Come Back and Take His Kid. Tubbo wishes him a good morning and good night every single day. How is he supposed to keep up his tough old man appearance like this

- Tommy is still on Wilbur’s side and purposefully makes Schlatt’s life just a little more difficult. Small pranks. Stickers on the cakes, wasting them. Writing #TommySupremacy on the sandwhich wraps with markers while nobody is looking. Taking 4 chairs to the back to stack them on top of eachother and stand on them to reach the ceiling. Being the teenager he is.

- Tubbo think it’s funny and that’s the main thing keeping him going really

- Schlatt confronts Tommy but with no results. He turns to Phil to ask him what to do and Phil is like, you don’t do anything. That’s just Tommy for you. Usually Wilbur keeps him occupied with the Dreamon hunting and now he has too much free time

- Quackity is using the blackmail more and more. Does he even work here anymore? When was the last time anybody saw him apart from looting the expired sodas? He’s the only one who can order avocados on a spanish site online that don’t cost their weight in gold

- But as it tends to be with good friends, Schlatt knows the amount of blackmail he has is enough to fill everybody’s need for drama here for the rest of the year. Also he can’t say no to Quackity

- Fundy recieves yet another apology card from Wilbur from Ireland, a whole postcard with a picture attached and a little doodle of a fox. He finally caves and forgives him, now refusing to do Schlatt’s work anymore.

- Dream is Popping Off. Nobody can stop him from working once he starts. He’s 2 months ahead on Literally Everything. Somebody help him

Promotion pt. 6: The Finale I promise

- Wilbur returns! Schlatt is THIS close to throwing in the towel

- Tubbo says he wants another sleepover, wanting to de-escalate the whole manager war. Tommy has to stay true to his promise in the freezer and they convince Wilbur together. Techno was on board before they even asked

- Unbeknowedst to them, the Dream Team + Karl wanted to stay in that night as well to sabotage Schlatt

- Both groups stare at eachother in confusion at first

-They combine their resources to figure out a way to sabotage Schlatt. Dream is growing increasingly quiet and unsure while Tommy stares at The Adults with dissapointment. Tubbo tries to get a word in about how Schlatt isn’t That Bad but they all yell over him. “The milk, Tubbo! Why can’t he put the milk back like a normal person!”

- Eventually Tommy pulls out his bravery and tells everyone to Shut Up

- Everyone stares at eachother

-Tommy: “How come you guys yelling over bullying somebody out of their work sounds less mature than when my literal nephews are screaming at eachother over 10 year old pokemon cards??“

- The adults stare at eachother even harder

- Dream shyly clears his throat. “From an outsider perspective, you know, uh, I should probably be fired for plotting against a fellow manager-“

- Wilbur finally finds his tongue. “Maybe this wasn’t the most... mature idea.”

- Everybody carefully agrees to apologize to schlatt and never speak of this again. Tommy has unknowingly gotten a lot more pranking rights

- They spend the rest of the night organizing the storage, hunting Dreamon, Dream telling them about that one time he ate a living frog, and taking turns playing some free racing game on Karl’s switch

- Lots of laughter, return to their shifts the next day

- They wait for Schlatt to come in to work and pull him to the back. Only Bad and Skeppy are already allowed inside while they keep the doors locked for anybody else

- Dream issues a formal apology to him and tells him everything, and Wilbur jockingly mentions they were really close to pouring food coloring into his rubber gloves as they try to laugh it off

- Schlatt stares at them

- “You know what? I quit. I don’t want to be the manager anymore. I feel like the dad of lord knows how many kids. Phil is some kind of angel. Wilbur please adopt Tubbo and Tommy again, as long as our store isn’t on fire I’m never going to complain about them ever again. Dream you might wanna phone Quackity.”

Insiders

- After a good, short era of peace within the establishment, the Drama Bois are getting bored and latching onto new things

- The bets on whether Skeppy and Bad are a couple or not are getting ever higher, especially as they’ve started letting them behind the counter. They figured out pretty quickly that they’re officially not together, but that just makes the betting all the more exciting. Do they like eachother? Are they hiding it? Are they just really good friends? Are they THAT oblivious or just really good at covering it up??

- Bad especially becomes good friends with Dream, George and Sapnap, and yet they’re all just as split as everyone else on whether he likes Skeppy or not

- Bad pretends to be but is in fact not oblivious to this at all

- Dream especially will often tell them they’re being VERY close to eachother or how cute they are next to eachother, revelling in teasing his friend, especially as Bad will sometimes start to get flustered while Skeppy manages to somehow stay 100% cool

- One day when a middle aged white woman is extremely unhappy with her order she starts talking down on George about being uneducated, and too clumsy for being useful at all, and how they should fire him. George asks her if he should just get the manager and she gladly agrees, only for Dream to swoop out of a back room, a good head taller than her, and sternly tell her if she can’t treat employees like human beings then he will ban her from the establishment immedietly. The woman stutters, takes her order and leaves, cursing something as she goes.

- Bad and Skeppy were sitting at a table nearby quietly the entire time, and Bad has this a-little-too-wide smile on his face.

- Dream murmurs something about having to go, but the seeds are planted. The idea has bloomed. Bad is ready to get his teasing revenge.

- Just as they’re closing, George puts away the milk that Dream left on the counter, telling Dream that he’s putting it away. Bad: “Wow George, that’s so thoughtful of you!” George: “???”

- Dream, softly telling George he can go home earlier and he’ll take the rest of the shift so George can catch up on sleep: “It’s okay, just go. I’ve got this.”

- Bad, just as George left, slurping his milkshake innocently while Wilbur and Sapnap are in earshot: “Awww, Dream! That was SO nice of you!”

- Dream, knowing exactly what this is for: “I’m just... nice to my friends!“

- Bad: “Really?! How many times do you let Sapnap go home earlier?” Sapnap: “You let George go earlier AGAIN?” Wilbur, having waited his entire life for someone to finally notice this: “George is getting so much favored treatment, Dream. But you’re really just good friends, right?“

- If looks could kill they’d all be dead at that point. Especially Bad, who continues slurping his milkshake as the chaos unfolds and Dream knows there’s no escape

@labbyyyyy @karlljacobs

[qwanderer]

What makes a Loki a Loki?

Loki is called upon to be a lot of different people. He’s been raised on Asgard, and that’s formed some of the more basic aspects of his personality and values, but at the same time he has attributes that have been consistently discouraged and pushed down by that culture, and we can see them step forward as he moves into situations where they are encouraged.

Throughout the canons, there are a lot of Lokis. Siege Loki, Lady Loki, Kid Loki and his murderer, Ikol, King Loki, and the God/Goddess of Stories. The earlier aspects I know only by secondhand information, but I’m very familiar with Loki from Young Avengers and Agent of Asgard, some of my favorite comics of all time. But I know some basic facts - the way the earliest Loki was a quintessential comic book villain full of pure simple theatrical mischief and ridiculous schemes, the fact that Lady Loki was a somewhat more sinister appropriator of bodies for her own use.

In my view, MCU!Loki has, at the very least, the same capacity to shift personalities depending on the circumstances, and I haven’t yet seen anything in the Loki show that’s thrown my suspension of disbelief with regards to his characterization.

I’ve seen some people rebel at the idea of Loki gleeful over the destruction of Pompeii and the causing of chaos it allowed, but it reminds me of some meta I wrote very early on in my years of meta-writing in the MCU. The values Loki was raised with, Asgardian values, sometimes treat death very lightly, especially death in battle, especially human or otherwise non-Aesir death. In the Aesir context, at least to a certain extent and certainly in terms of what we’ve seen Odin teach his sons onscreen, violence is honorable, fighting is an adventure, lives are cheap and Valhalla is the ultimate goal.

I think a lot of the central conflict of Loki’s character is that he follows some of these principles to their logical conclusions in situations that Aesir values never meant them to cover. If life is unimportant, then it won’t be so bad if I tell Thor that Odin is dead. If the throne of Asgard has dominion over all the Nine Realms, then why shouldn’t I rule Midgard?

But he also shifts the way he acts to suit the situation. He is a shifter, it’s what he does. On Asgard, he is expected to be a warrior, a dignified prince, a companion and support for his brother. The values are bravery and dignity, and so a lot of what he projects there is bravado and elegance, which are close enough for him to get by.

When he is taken by Thanos, the only things Thanos wants and values are power and death. So Loki becomes an avatar of power and death. He carries that with him to Earth, because he is still very much under the jurisdiction of Thanos. But he very quickly learns how to use and manipulate Earth values, like wit and pathos. They seem to fit him better than the others, and he carries them through the other movies and the different frameworks he finds himself in.

He also tends to carry Asgard with him, the knowledge that he’s a prince, destined to be a king, that he needs to carry himself a certain way, with that elegance, dignity and bravado.

When I see Loki in the first episode of the show, I recognize him as some of the deepest, most quintessential parts of Loki that have only been allowed to peek out on occasion before. And that is due to manipulation on Mobius’s part - Mobius makes it very clear what he expects of Loki. To get down to the very basic levels of him and find out his motivations, what makes him fundamentally himself - “What makes Loki tick?” There’s a quiet void there, and the only thing that’s being asked of Loki, for once, is that he sit down and fill that void with words - the truest and most sincere words possible.

There’s a clear and interesting divide between that phase for Loki, and the phase we see in episode two - Mobius has stopped providing that space, and in the interim, he’s made it very clear what he expects Loki to be like, what mold he’d prefer the trickster to fit into.

The hard-working, lovable scamp.

Loki is hiding his deepest self again, which we all do most of the time. Loki can’t feel that deeply and express that freely all the time. Because of the environment he’s in - which may not be any more or less free than any of the other environments he’s experienced - he expresses himself in a particular way. He is the hard-working, mischievous scamp Mobius has been pushing him to be.

I don’t think he’s any more or less himself than he’s ever been - he’s simply responding to different pressures. And the pressures of this episode press him very hard into the Neal Caffrey mold. Which is an interesting mold in itself - when I was writing White Collar fic, I made a point to distinguish who Neal was when he was with Peter and who he was under different circumstances - prison, witness protection, with Mozzie, with Kate. (I wrote an autistic Kate, and had him most freely himself when he was with her.)

Like Neal Caffrey, the Episode 2 Loki is treading a line between behaviors that will get him things because he’s useful and compliant, behaviors that will demonstrate that he’s into minor trickery for fun now and might not be getting up to anything bigger, and those bigger tricks that are definitely still running in the background. It’s the obvious balance for a trickster on a leash with an indulgent bureaucrat.

You can see that it’s a facade in the way that he is near tears when he sees the Ragnarok paperwork, but when he brings it to Mobius’s attention and Mobius expresses his sympathies, Loki says “Yes, very sad,” and then dismisses it in favor of moving on to his mischievous enthusiasm over the resulting theory he’s had.

Like all good lies, it’s built out of truth, so when I see this Loki, I see pieces of the Loki I know, just put together a little differently, which is how Loki seems to do it.

Although he’s not free as he might hope to be, and in fact threading a narrow path between a very constricting set of pressures, I do still think he’s enjoying the dropped expectations of dignity and elegance. I think he’s enjoying being in a culture that encourages him to be a geek. To go on about the things he’s passionate about and his areas of expertise. And I think that’s a lot of what unsettles people about this Loki, because that elegance and dignity have carried everywhere else with him. And I’m not going to argue that the TVA are doing anything nice for him - quite the contrary - but I still do enjoy seeing him able to be the geek he’s always had the inclination to be, in the right circumstances.

It makes me wonder, a little, how much his mother is on his mind right now, after the first episode, because if I had a guess, the last time he’s felt free to be this enthusiastic and expressive about his interests is in magic lessons with her as a child.

So. The other variant.

We know from the Lady Loki comics arc that Loki can possess other people’s bodies over the long term, and we know from kid!Loki and his murderer interacting in YA that the original occupant of a body can sometimes hang around and talk back, if only as a figment of his imagination. We know from most incarnations that Loki can go to a lot of dark places if the circumstances push him to it.

As I’ve said before, I’m intrigued by the question the difference between the two variants poses - how much different can two Lokis be before they are no longer meaningfully the same person?

We’ve got clues on both sides, of course - our scamp on a leash saying “I wouldn’t do this to myself” on the side of them being not the same person, and the vengeful goddess he’s chasing saying “I was afraid they’d found a better version of me” on the side of them being the same person.

The more I think about it, the more I’m willing to predict that this vengeful goddess is, in some way, an incarnation of Loki. But (be warned, I’m going to reference Stephenie Meyer now) it could be in as small a way as something out of The Host - a stolen body’s original personality fighting dirty against the invading spirit.

If this is something based on the character of Sylvie from the comics, it could still be anything from a person - human or Asgardian - chosen and manipulated by Loki to do his bidding, to a full-on possession, or even a body constructed for a specific purpose but developing its own personality traits.

We know this variant is a body hopper, and Mobius’s briefing mentioned that it’s an inherent ability of most Lokis to shapeshift, so there are a lot of potential explanations for this unfamiliar shape.

But the differences between the variants could also stem mostly from different experiences.

The only thing I’m at all sure of is that this variant has also been tortured by Thanos. It’s possible that she branched earlier - that the wild desperation of having freshly escaped Thanos translated into being dragged into the TVA like a cornered wildcat, on the raggedy edge and desperate enough to go all-out to get out of the collar while still in the custody of the minute men. Then, as she became familiar with the TVA in concept and execution, developed opinions and built a personality around taking them down, taking them apart the way she wished she could do to Thanos, the way Thanos did to her.

But she could also have branched later - after the destruction of Asgard, or when Thanos appeared on the refugee ship. After the worst has happened to her people. With some preexisting notion that time could have gone differently, that some things that had happened should not be allowed to happen.

I have a weak spot for interactions between incarnations of Loki in the comics, so I am incredibly eager to see the MCU’s take on this.

[nattikay]

So I saw this post while browsing toa tags the other day. While I don’t think being obsessed with the school mascot automatically makes Toby a furry (though it is funny to joke about lol) since “being a furry” actually just means “being a fan of anthropomorphic animals” and doesn’t necessarily require any form of costuming or interest in such, it did get me thinking, hmmm...if he was a furry, what would his fursona be? 🤔 And from there I started wondering what Jim’s and Claire’s would be as well because y not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

BUT WAIT, I hear you say--haven’t you already drawn the trio as werewolves and wolfwalkers etc.? Wouldn’t those be their fursonas??

Well yes....but actually no.

I guess it’s a little hard to explain, but there’s a nuance between “[person] but as an animal” and a proper “fursona”. While a fursona is an animal character used to represent its person, it doesn’t have to physically resemble them at all as you would expect [person]-but-as-[animal] to. For example, if you were to design me but as a cat, you’d probably give it light brown fur and green eyes like I have irl. But my fursona, unlike my human self, actually has blue fur and purple eyes. You can give your fursona matching physical traits to your own if you want to, and some people do, but most use only a pinch of their irl appearance, if any at all.

The choices people make when designing their fursonas vary wildly from “it looks like me irl” to “it looks like who I want to be”  to “I just really like this color scheme” to “this particular color/marking holds deep personal meaning to me” to “this particular pattern represents a particular defining moment in my life” to “idk it looks cool and i vibe with it” etc. etc. etc. Everyone has different reasons of varying depth for the decisions they make in designing their fursona.

Therefore, to design a fursona for Toby etc., it’s less a question of “what would this character look like as [insert species here]?” and more of “how would this character choose to present himself with his own [animal] character?”

And that’s a much trickier game than just transferring a character aesthetic to a new species. ^^; We have to kinda dive into the characters and makes some guesses about how they, if given infinite creative freedom to design an animal avatar with no rules or limits, would choose to present themselves.

So all that said, here’s what I came up with:

Starting with Toby because he’s the one who inspired the post. I think Toby might choose a wolfdog fursona. A lot of people who choose wolves as fursonas consider themselves to be overwhelmingly loyal to their friends, a trait that fits Toby very well. However, while Toby likes to be “cool”, I don’t think he really thinks of himself as much of an “alpha” type--he’s more of a sidekick, and he knows that, and he’s ok with that. He’s the wingman. So what better way to incorporate that than to add dog into the mix? Man’s best friend=Jim’s best friend. Sociable, humorous, and unwaveringly loyal. Wolfdog it is!

With the species decided, we can move on to the design itself.

I can’t imagine any form of Toby in anything other than warm colors. This is extra emphasized by the flamelike patterns on his legs and tail, which both speaks to his desire to be totally awesome-sauce as well as acts as an allusion to his flaming warhammer. It’s fairly common (not universal, but common) for people to give their fursonas a more “ideal” physique than the person actually has as a sort of way to live by proxy physical goals or fantasies they’ve been unable to attain irl for whatever reason. Given that we’ve seen Toby struggle with fitness from time to time, it wouldn’t shock me to see him take this route. His wolfdog self is still relatively short and stocky, but it’s all muscle, babey. 

This fursona is strong, fun, boisterous, and generally just kicks butt. Concentrated awesomesauce flows through his veins. Just don't mess with his friends, or you’ll feel the flames!

.

Moving on to Jim. Jim was the hardest to nail down, and most definitely the hardest to keep my personal biases out of oof. Which I may have failed to do anways because yes, ok, I made my favorite character a blue feline, sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  But hear me out first!

For Jim I ultimately settling on a cheetah/lion hybrid.

Cheetahs, in a way, are sort of the underdogs (er...cats?) of the feline world--at least, in their local ecosystems. They are built wholly for speed, not strength--and as such, just about every other large predator in their environment has them beat when it comes to raw strength. Remind you of a certain Trollhunter? plus the long lanky legs. don’t forget those lol

However, because of this disadvantage, cheetahs...usually surrender. They know it’s not worth it to defend their kill from larger, stronger opponents, so they’ll give it up and just catch something else. This aspect doesn’t quite fit our protective, selfless protagonist all too eager to risk everything to save his loved ones--so a pure cheetah may not be the right choice.

So what animal is brave and protective? That’s where the lion part comes in, of course!

Why not just make him a pure lion? Well, a little similar to making Toby a wolfdog instead of a pure wolf. A straight-up lion feels a little too “chad” for our sweet Jimbo. Too much of a jock. 

Jim has the humble underdog nature of a cheetah as well as the bravery and fierce protective drive of a lion. Cheelion? Leetah? idk, but let’s design it!

Like Toby and warm colors, I don’t think I can possibly associate Jim with any color but blue. While it’s never directly stated, given that we’ve never really seen him wear any other color (with the exception of the Eclipse armor), I think it’s pretty safe to assume that that’s his favorite. Blue sweater, blue jeans, blue shoes, even his backpack and bedsheets are blue. So naturally, his fursona would be predominantly blue as well! Plus some yellowish accents to (somewhat) match the natural colors of his chosen species(s).

I imagine he originally designed the character without horns, but then added them after becoming the Trollhunter, since it became such a major and impactful aspect of his life.

His lion’s mane also continues down his back in imitation of the “mantle” found on baby cheetahs. This youthful feature could subtly represent the fact that he’s been forced to grow up too fast and take on so much responsibility so young--so his fursona can still be young and carefree as long as he likes even while his real self struggles with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

This fursona is relaxed, calm, and confident. He’s not just cool--he’s crispy!

.

Lastly but not leastly, we have Claire. Out of the three, I think Claire was actually the easiest to choose--or at least, I had the clearest idea of what I thought she might go for.

Claire is a bit of an interesting duck, because while she’s shown to be fairly popular at school, she’s definitely far from the stereotype of The Popular Girl™. Yes she’s smart and pretty, but she’s also a little spunky or even a bit quirky--she’s a theatre kid, she’s a huge fan of hard rock band Papa Skull, and while I wouldn’t quite call her “rebellious” per se, she’s certainly willing to bend some rules if she feels the situation calls for it (not telling her parents that she was going to the concert with Steve, literally sneaking into Jim’s basement to try to find out what was up with him, etc).

That said, I think Claire might go for a hyena fursona--something a little out of the box, but not totally out of left field. (she also shows a slight Gurl Power™ streak here and there “the staff was not meant to be wielded by man--” “I am not a man!!!”) and if you know anything about hyenas...well, yeah lol)

I think Claire would lean into her punk-rock “rebellious” side with her fursona design. This character is completely free of the pressure of being the councilwoman’s daughter and having to maintain her mother’s public reputation, and thus allows Claire to express a less restrained side of herself. She has a bold semi-edgy color scheme with bright accents (and some earrings to match her person’s hair clips) while still remaining feminine and (her own brand of) fashionable. 

This fursona is spunky and sassy; she’s spicy and sweet all rolled up into one. She knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to chase it down. She lives her own life and she’s dang proud of it.

.

....sooooo yeah there’s my take on what Toby’s, Jim’s, and Claire’s fursonas could hypothetically be. And I guess since this post was inspired by a joke about Toby’s infatuation with the school mascot, here’s just some quick thoughts on how they might approach fursuiting to end us off:

Jim I don’t see as much of a suiter. He might try it once or twice if given the opportunity, but at the end of the day it’s not really his cup of tea--he’d rather act as the “handler” for his friends, if anything.

Toby and Claire, on the other hand, I could definitely see as suiters. In fact, with her interest in acting, Claire would probably particularly enjoy it--she’d be one of those suiters who really gets into character, absolutely refuses to break the magic publicly (outside of any actual medical emergency), and popular at cons because she just performs so well. 

Toby, meanwhile, would be the more chill type--uses his normal voice in-suit, isn’t really too stressed about “breaking the magic”, just kinda hanging around like he would normally except “look I’m a talking dog, cool right?”. 

also while I was typing this it occurred to be that since Eli is canonically a cosplayer then he could be a fursuiter as well; in his case i imagine he actually made his own suit it’s a protogen and it’s full of little LEDs and other electric gadgets, it’s not the prettiest thing ever as sewing is not his forte but boy did he try!! good for him. good for him

[jeonggukieandcream]

Imagine Dracula finding out you’re afraid of the dark (x reader).

A/N Shameless self-insert 😂😂😂 I’m terrified of the dark and I’ve had a rough few nights with it, so I wrote down the things I thought about to help me sleep. I hope it comforts someone else. Never written for our sassy classy vamp so this might be totally shit. Written with romance in mind.

Warnings for: fear of the dark, crying (reader), general state of anxiety/anxiety attack.

Also, gender neutral reader and modern era Dracula.

Word count: 2, 417.

(He’s so ethereal I can’t - 🥺💙 every time I see him smile I drop all my uwus asdfghjk 🥺🥺🥺)

Your bedtime routine was that there was no routine. You slept when you were tired and you followed your body’s natural rhythm, which meant that you were often up during the hours which others considered to be unsociable. This meant that you got to spend more time with Dracula during his waking hours and sometimes, not that you would ever tell him, you even stayed up past being tired simply to spend some more time with him. 

Dracula knew about this, of course he did, he could smell your truth in your blood, and he had taken it upon himself to be the person to tell you to go to bed when it was no longer funny to him just how much you were putting your body through. You had never treated yourself well and it always made the vampire’s chest ache somewhere deep within him as he sought to protect you against yourself. Your self-destructive streak was evident and so it was when you yawned for the umpteenth time that Dracula unfolded himself gracefully from his chair and stood up. 

He walked towards you, his eyebrows raised and a hand outstretched. “I think...” He paused to look at you with an amused gleam in those dark pools of something foreboding and yet wholly safe, “that it’s bed time for the human, don’t you?”

You stifled another yawn as you debated fighting Dracula on it. He picked up on your thoughts, so well did he know you, and he cocked his head to the side in a silent challenge, a smirk growing on his aristocratic face. You conceded his point silently - you really were tired - but then something else you had forgotten slammed into you like a truck and you stopped. You just... stopped.

You held your breath as panic made your head grow hot from the inside and you could have sworn that your heart skipped a beat before its rate picked up slightly. You had completely forgotten to buy new batteries for the string of fairy lights which were suspended to the side of your bed. You had your laptop, which you could put Netflix on while you fell asleep, but what if you woke up in the complete darkness? Your breath hitched and your world lurched off its axis as you slid your palm over Dracula’s, his long fingers folding over your wrist. You stood up and took a deep breath. 

Dracula could feel your pulse racing beneath his calloused fingertips and he watched you curiously. What was scaring you? He could feel you wrestling for control over yourself and he admired your bravery; clearly whatever was upsetting you was something you couldn’t avoid or overcome and there you were, facing it anyway. The two of you stood there and looked for one another for a few tense seconds and then you seemed almost to shake yourself off as you kept your hand in Dracula’s hold. You trusted him and you walked to your bedroom, getting your body ready for bed.

Your mind, however, was racing and it was getting increasingly difficult to keep your breathing under control as every horror film you had ever seen, every horror book you had ever consumed and every creepypasta you had ever indulged in filled your tried and tired mind all at once. Even with your wrist tightly in Dracula’s grip (though you could pull away if you wanted to, you would have to make a real effort to do so), you still felt like you were lost in a stormy sea of your own feelings as fear, panic and a reluctance to go to sleep swept in like the tide and threatened to take you with it.

Dracula, who needed not to sleep at night, nocturnal was he, stood in the doorway and watched you as you sat down on your bed and took a deep breath. He chuckled as parts of the puzzle you had presented to him began to click into place with the surrounding jagged pieces. Oh, how fascinating you were. He wanted to dive into the very depths of your mind and explore every nook and cranny which was available to him. And, oh, your blood practically sung to him. You were intoxicating and your fear only made that scent so much more sweeter. “I could be wrong, Y/N, but I think you’re afraid of a few shadows.” Dracula stepped further forward into the room now that you were ready for bed and he shut the door behind him with a quiet but firm click. All that remained of the world now was the two of you; there was no room for anything or anyone else other than what the two of you had nurtured between you. 

Dracula was fond of you, confused though he was as to the origins of this, and you were as equally fond of him. You had had an unconventional friendship and from this garden had some oddly shaped flowers bloomed. They were perfect. If you had to put a label on it, then you would say that you were romantically involved with one another, but Dracula had no interest in labels. He cared only for the truths contained inside your blood, and the ones he knew to rest within his own self, too. Those three words, spoken too much and yet not enough, had yet to be spoken by either of you, but the sentiment was still known and felt; echoed was it by the both of you so that neither of you could doubt the sincerity of the connection you shared. 

You were beyond the point of where you could successfully lie (not that Dracula would allow you that luxury; he could smell a lie even before it occurred to you to tell one), so you nodded. “I’ve always been scared of the dark and I... don’t have any batteries for my lights.” Dracula’s gaze followed your own as you pointedly looked up at your fairy lights. “I might be all right with the laptop but... I just have to hope that I don’t wake up in the night. The thought of doing that terrifies me, I - “ You hadn’t even known that your eyes were watering and as the knowledge that you were truly scared began to sunk in, so too did you begin to cry; for emotions express themselves in the vessel which houses them. Tears, hot and heavy, poured down your cheeks and you met Dracula’s gaze with shame as you said, “I really don’t want to turn the light off, Drac. What if - what if I wake up in the dark and you’re not there and I’m all alone in my fear, I - “ You choked on your next breath and your eyes widened. Panic gripped your heart and being forced to face your most debilitating fear without warning shocked you; this only fed into the fear and on did the cycle continue.

“Y/N.”  Your name, spoken in Drac’s clipped tone, broke through the haze in your mind and you dashed your hand across your face, wiping your tears away without care. “I want you to listen to me.” You nodded, taking several deep breaths as you wiped away tears which fell. All you had to do was slip underneath the duvet, lay down and close your eyes. So simple was it in theory, you did it every night with little thought beyond making sure the lights were bright enough for you, and yet it was, in practice, the most daunting task you could think of in this moment. “I want you to remain calm.” Your eyes flew up to meet Dracula’s. Couldn’t he see that you were the very opposite of calm? The vampire met your eyes and he smiled gently, a feigned look of patience in his eyes, familiar though he was with fears of his own which had plagued him for centuries. “You’re doing very well. Now - “ Dracula’s hand reached out for the light switch and you made a pitiful noise. He inclined his head as a reminder to listen to him. Something in his dark gaze enabled you to see this gesture for what it truly was. Dracula knew that you lacked the courage in this moment to turn the light out, that you couldn’t make yourself face your own fear even though it was your only option if you wanted to sleep tonight. So, he was taking that choice away from you - he was going to be the one to expose you to your fear, and he was also going to protect you from that very thing. Dracula had been isolated for over five hundred years and in that time his social skills had become... less than ideal, but he tried for you. Slowly were you teaching him the ways of modern society and through you was he quickly becoming acclimatised to such a muddled and chaotic world.

The room was plunged into total darkness with a sharp click and you gasped sharply, Dracula’s name leaving you in a rush. You were not shushed, you were not comforted with words. Instead, a piece of the darkness which was blacker than the rest of the room quickly made its way towards you and you made another small noise of fear, your throat thickened with unshed tears. A hand came out of the dark like it was made of it and curved to the shape of your cheek. A thumb brushed soothingly across your damp skin and you relaxed under the simple yet affectionate touch. Oh, how easily could Dracula snap your neck in this moment. He could rip out your throat, carve your heart out with his bare hand and let your warm blood pool in his palm... he was a predator and the scariest thing in any room... to everyone but you.

You, who had once stood in the middle of a brightly lit room and held a hand out as you waited patiently for Dracula to understand that his fears had been unfounded for so long. You, who had coaxed him out into the sunlight with patience and tenderness he had never seen and shown him who he truly was with his hands tightly held in yours the entire time. You, who snuck into The Harker Foundation using the key Jack had given you a long time ago so that you could steal blood bags so that Dracula didn’t have to kill during the times in which it was too dangerous for him to do so. You, in all of your mortality, had won the heart of the world’s most dangerous creature... and yet, he was the safest danger to you. Not even Death could reach you when your warlord was around. You were completely untouchable with Dracula and he made sure that you always knew that.

You.

The two of you were whole individuals all on your own and you could certainly survive without each other, but you chose not to. You woke up every day and you chose to love Dracula, some days was that sentiment expressed harder than it usually was, and Dracula did the very same with you. In that choice lay the power of the love you shared with one another and nothing and no one could ever or would ever tear you asunder.

“Let’s get you familiar with the dark, shall we? Come here.” Dracula swept you up into his arms like you weighed nothing and holding you cradled in one arm, your arms redundantly locked around his neck (he would never drop you; you were precious cargo whenever he held you), he pulled back the duvet and eased himself into the bed. You settled atop his body, your forehead brushing against his neck. “This isn’t so scary, is it?” Just as he spoke did the floorboards in your home begin to settle and you gasped and tried to move off of Dracula, but he held fast. “Y/N.” A warning. It was one you decided to heed. 

With Dracula holding you to his chest, it was impossible for you to look anywhere around the room despite every nerve in your body screaming for you to do so. Dracula needed you to be forced to focus on him and only on him; your heart was pounding on your chest and he idly wondered if it was going to break free of your ribcage and fly free of the constraints of your body’s own making. As his large hand stroked up and down your back in fluid motions and the other hand remained resting on the back of your head, you found yourself slowly, slowly starting to relax. But one thing was missing. You wanted not only to feel Drac, but also to hear him. In your blood were you heard, for everything is in blood if one knows how to listen, and Drac began to sing quietly. You couldn’t make out the words and you knew not the language he sang in, but it sounded like a purring when you burrowed down further so that your ear was over his chest, and in the arms of the world’s most feared being did you find nothing but solace, peace and love.

You eventually slept, your body the most welcomed and wanted dead weight, and Dracula stayed with you throughout the night to make sure that he was there if you awoke once more. You were so full of fear, through no fault of your own, and he had sworn to protect you, even if it was only to himself. It was a promise he would honour through his actions; more reliable were they than words. You had reached out for him and he had answered your call and now forevermore were your fates entangled. Dracula knew now that he loved you, in his own ways, and he wanted to remain by your side forever. A creature of the night he may have been, but there was hope for you to join him yet and for that, for you, Dracula would wait. Forever, if he had to. He could be patient when he needed to be, having once slept for one hundred and twenty three years. A human’s lifespan was a mere blink compared to his own existence but when finally would you step into an eternal sleep, he would be there to rouse you and to make you his finest and final bride.

REQUESTS FOR DRACULA 2020 ARE OPEN! PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK! Headcanons, a fic or a matchup! 🥰🥰🥰

[azurevi]

3 halloween tales (cater, jade & vil)

This is really random, but the ssr cards for the halloween show have given me many au ideas, so here are my self-indulgent stories inspired by them. The Cater one is especially long because I got a lot of ideas about it. For the Vil one.. it's pretty disappointing how it turned out, but I hope it's not too bad. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!

WARNINGS : death (all), mild mention of gore (cater), war + mild possessiveness + violence (jade) [let me know if there're more!]

the heart and its eternal weight

Cater is a cemetery caretaker. It isn't that he really loves it, but his father was one. He feels like it is only right to take after his steps.

He isn't into superstitions. Some people find distaste in his job, but it's something crucial for Cater. People, even after they're dead, should still be honored, and so deserve a hospitable place to rest. 

Everyday is a routine for him. Sometimes, though, the families of the passed talk to him about their stories and their emptiness once their loved ones are gone. Cater finds the beauty and softness in humans by hearing these stories, and it makes him even more dedicated to his job. 

It's natural to him, dying. His father was killed in an unintended accident, and sometimes it seems like his death could have been avoidable just as much as it was inevitable. He just wishes that he had had more time with him.

One of the lessons his father taught him about graveyard caretaking is to beware of ghosts. Those who recently died are more visible and intimate with the world of the living, and so they might appear before humans. Some are inhostile, of course, but there are malevolent ones.

Lore has it that some ghosts prey on hearts. It is said that the heart is the most important part of a human, as it is accountable for life, death and emotions. People believe that ghosts can be revived with a fresh, still-beating heart, and as a result the human giving up their heart will die in place of the ghost. Basically, the heart can also create ripples in the fabric of space-time.

Because of his job, he isn't all that popular among others, and he only has a few life-long close friends, his mother and sisters by him. So even if he has a crush on the most admirable person he's ever seen, he still won't make it known in fear of rejection. He figures that he still has time to figure it out.

And he's wrong. News about your tragic death spread around quickly like wildfire, and he's devastated. It feels wrong to even feel so, because he has never been acquainted with you in the first place.

Your body is buried in his cemetery, and a lot of people come to your funeral that day. Some of your family members are so heartbroken and pitiable, and so Cater offered to be their listener.

All he can hear is about the great work you've done, the care you put into everyone you met, the warmth that radiated off you while you were still alive. It breaks Cater how he's never had the privilege to know you, to experience all your graces with his own perspective.

One night, the moon is lit and hung up high in the sky, so close that it seems to be prying on Earth and the people roaming on it. Cater is patrolling with his lawnmower when he hears quiet and uncertain sobs.

He is creeped out, yes, but he's also curious. He's never seen a ghost before, and it could be a human for all he knows.

He's proved wrong once again, as he discovers your opaque body behind a giant tree. You are hugging their legs close to your chest, and a rotting hole's visible where your heart should be.

There's no way you can be hostile, and you certainly won't kill him for his heart, so Cater decides to approach you gently, tentatively, like you're smoke that will disperse the moment he intrudes.

To his surprise, you can hear him clearly, and even invite him to sit down with him. It's so bizarre -- a ghost asking for a conversation! But Cater doesn't mind as he pops down beside you. He notices how although you were no longer solid, it still feels like tense when his hand passes through you. Certainly it's because you've been dead not for long.

And so the two of you indulge in heartful conversations, and Cater finds himself regretting even more about how he never gathered the courage to go up to you. Mid-conversation you tell him about all the things that you wish you could've done and all the ideas you wished to spread.

Cater probably shouldn't have, but he is so absorbed in your ambitions and kindness that he offers to carry out all these great things for you. After numerous confirmations, you agree too to let him carry out your thoughts.

And so Cater works in his neighbourhood, sharing campaigns and donating, taking care of lost pets and cats and partaking in environment improvement. He's never felt so fulfilled before, and it's the first time he feels like he's genuinely making a difference in the world.

In times he's not representing you, he brings you up on the little hill behind the cemetery where the moon and stars are so close and vibrant, where they all dance in the dark ballroom and pulse in excitement of being seen. He wishes he could show you more hidden gems, but your spectral spirit cannot be too far away from your body. 

But it's enough.

A month passes and Cater notices subtle change in your behaviour as well as appearance, like how you're responding with less enthusiasm and how the hole in your chest is growing bigger. When he finally asks about it, he's told that ghosts generally only stay in the world of the living for 49 days, and their heart will rot away in this period. After that, they will have to go to the underworld, never be back again.

Cater is certainly shocked that the lore is more than a children's makeup story. He is well aware of the significance of the heart in relation to the soul and life. 

He asks if you'd like to have his heart instead, so bluntly and casually. You seem to return to their original intimate self when you refuse. 

"I'm already gone. It's you, the living, who should be making changes,"

So he pretends that you're not getting more and more unresponsive and less and less generous. He turns a blind eye against your wavering figure and how you can't be seen at all in the sun. He plays dumb when in reality, you're slipping away before his very own eyes, heart rotting away like nothing more than a fruit.

It hurts finally knowing and understanding someone and having to lose them. 

On the 48th day, you are already but a still, soulless shadow, leaning beside your gravestone and fresh, white flowers. Cater can still see you. Sometimes he thinks that you chose to be seen.

And he can't bear to see you go. To see your dreams go into flames, to watch such a pretty soul just - vanish.

So he gives you his heart. Alive and beating and sentimental. It doesn't even hurt a bit. 

You wake up immediately, your eyes glowing and body solidifying. 

"What have you done?" 

"What I can do to make a change,"

Time is starting to rewrite itself. Cater is going to die in your place. The space around you was warping and folding into itself, softly and rightly like a lullaby.

Just before you slip into darkness, you gather up a whole bunch of rose petals and desperately stuff them into the hole in Cater's chest, as if they can give him life in lieu of a heart, and you are sobbing and clinging onto his still warm arm, never wanting to let go.

It's all Cater wants, to save a wasted soul and to make a difference. 

And so he cradles your face, and leans in the moment everything goes black. When he wakes up again, he's weightless in the cemetery, where a bunch of well arranged roses lie on his buried body.

a melancholy specimen

To Jade, beauty needs to be preserved to be constant. It's just like flowers. They die away without proper care.

Just when he thinks he's seen all the beauties of the world and is getting bored of it, he meets you. A blooming flower sparkling in the bland, old boring world around it. He's immediately captivated - how a person can still manage to flourish in such a rotten world where everything is depressing and all man is for themselves!

You're the most elegant piece of art he's seen, and that's something considering that he owns a museum. Innocence lies in your eyes and bravery sings itself between your lips.

You find him just equally amusing -- gentlemanly, insightful and just a touch of flirtation. The two of you fall in love like Alice down the rabbit hole - amused and unstoppable, fascinated by the wonders evolving about.

But the world doesn't give a damn about love, nor do they understand your dreams of a bright future where everything is close to hearts. They call you both madness and nonsense.

"Their souls are tainted with war and sorrow. They are beyond the point of rescue. Victory and glory are all that can feed their ego,"

Jade is disappointed. War has gouged people's eyes out and filled them with wails and ash.

The two of you are the only stars in the night sky, still fighting for salvation, yearning for a better future where trees grow and flowers yearn for the sun. You promote and do your best to lift the veil of darkness off the world. 

But the sun doesn't understand either. War keeps going on and on, and people never have the time for aesthetic relaxations. It refuses to shed light on its pitiable humans.

"We should evacuate, Jade. They say a bomb is dropping tomorrow,"

Jade doesn't care and can't care. The most paramount thing is to open his eyes to the beauty of this world. He doesn't want to become one of those barbarous men, tasting dirt and blood on their tongue while they glorify violence and brutalness.

He stays behind while his neighbourhood dies away. You are the only ones yet to leave. 

"Please don't leave me, Y/N. You're the only light in my life,"

You can't bear to leave him, and so you stay. The bomb is dropped, and it's too close. Too hot. Too cruel, too inhumane. It ravages everything in its way, burning all the darkened things to the ash and bringing the only beauty left in this world with it.

Jade wails. Broken cries are engulfed by nearby explosions and the cackling of flames. Your soulless body lies amidst the destruction, just another wilted flower in the slit of a rock, deprived of water and sunlight.

He finally understands. Nothing can save the world anymore. It's gone way too far, and it will never recover from malevolence. All he can feel is pity for his world as his heart ache with spite.

Bandages around his hands, he wraps your corpse up completely, preserved underneath the layers. You will be his reminder that there was once a flower in this drought, an anchor keeping him from becoming one of those barbarians.

lifeless silhouette in the dark night

You can never recognize directions. You find yourself stumbling upon a seemingly inhabited mansion in the middle of the woods. Cold and bruised, you knock on its door.

Welcoming you is a tall man with blonde and lilac hair called Vil. His skin is unnaturally white, and his eyes seem to glow like orbs that eat your souls. But you are too tired to make notice of all these details, and he's kind enough to let you stay for the night.

He treats you with ravishing cuisine and a grand bedroom that was as grotesque as the rest of the house. Afterwards, he leaves you to rest, but not before warning you not to get out of the room post midnight.

You oblige- for the first half hour. Then you start to hear wails and footsteps that amplify and disappear. It's impossible to sleep.

The next morning, you confront Vil about it. He refuses to face the questions as he ushers you to get going, and so off you go.

You spend another day lost in the woods, then somehow come face to face with the mansion again. Vil is beyond shocked to see you, but then he breaks into a deep smile.

"It's almost as if you belong here,"

Weirdly enough, you could agree, There seemed to be an invisible force pulling you towards Vil. After dinner, he orders you not to leave the room again before making his leave.

Broken wails. Recurring footsteps. You can't bear it any longer, and you also wonder if Vil is aware of this. He properly is, and thus tells you to stay safe inside the room.

But dumb curiosity gets the best of you, and you open the door and step into the endless corridors.

The wails come from the host's room, where Vil is supposed to be. You're closing in when its door is suddenly flung open, and out runs a panting Vil.

"Vil? What are-"

His eyes are bloodshot and there's red stain in the corner of his mouth. Sweat dots his forehead. He looks disheveled and the complete opposite of how he was during dinner.

"You shouldn't be here. Get back - get back in!"

His voice booms in your skull, and you're running back to your room before you notice. 

It's another sleepless night.

To your luck, Vil doesn't wait for you to bring the incident up.

"Don't be creeped ou by it, please."

He seems very uneasy about it, but he's obstinate to give you an explanation.

Turns out that he is a vampire. One that has lived for 500 years and is waiting for his eventual death. He's seen everything in this world and lived through the best and worst of humanity. He understands people's fear about vampires, and so he resides in the remote part of the wood. He only ever drinks the blood of small animals that he hunt, and never has he once killed a man.

He knew nothing about what'd happen to him when he became a vampire. If he'd known about the repercussions, he'd never have become one in exchange of eternal beauty. Now he has to turn someone else into a vampire to end his immortality. It is only a cycle.

 Every night the moon rises and spills into his room, and he has to fight his urge to go out and taste the sweet blood of humans. 

There are times when he slips and loses control, but he always manages to get back to his senses. But it seems that your presence here in the mansion is awaking his desire to suck you dry.

You're bewildered to say the least, and frankly horrified. But at the same time you feel pity for him, for he is just a man who can't ever do anything as atrocious as hurting people.

And so you offer to end his suffering. Of course Vil disagrees. He just talked about how he never wanted to take a life, and now you're offering yourself to him? He'd never allow it.

But you're even more persistent. You keep staying in his mansion, and his sanity slips a little more every night. And you know that he's contemplating too, for he never tries to kick you out of his mansion.

"You deserve a rest, Vil. For your love and selflessness. For all the unspoken kindness you bestow on others. It is only fair that you get to rest,"

Vil has lived a life. He's but a mere walking corpse now, and a rest -- a sleep -- sounds just like what he needs.

And so he rests. Vil falls into a deep, serene sleep while you endure each and every dark night.

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

An Interlude — Me, ‘Yourself,’ I

Two Masters pick up another ‘them.’

Many other ‘them’ — of times and Masters long gone, each filling each other’s roles in stories meant to be the same.

Like a play filled with understudies, where the choice in lead actor changed everything —

...Then, what to do about that?

<Pt. 1/???>

featuring story from @hasbbdoneanythingwrong + @hasquetzdoneanythingwrong

--

"...It's you."

A being from his dreams, a being beyond rational description.

A Singularity had appeared, hadn't it? One only recently, showing its face, a remnant of what should've been destroyed.

The coward believed such a thing was the only cause of a being haunting his dreams. A shapeless, formless, yet all-encompassing, formed being, that threatened to vanish from his sight and take him over, simultaneously.

And its words, too-

▓▒░▓▓▄▀▌▌▐█▒

Made no sense.

No, nothing the being said would mean a thing to the cowardly Master, and yet it made sense all the same. Two opposite extremes, filling him not with the words it spoke, but the emotion those unspeakable tongues filled in his mind.

"...I don't understand. I... I don't get it at all."

No, so much 'strange' had occurred, in a matter of mere days. A Servant had spoken of a world not unlike his own, another Chaldea, and another Master. Then, replaced soon after, by a Quetz who spoke of it only as a faint dream, barely recalled, but fondly looked back on.

And mere days afterwards, this thing -- that which now sought to fill him with unending fear, and discomfort, as it held itself within him, seeking to spread itself within his mind like a comforting, but foreign virus to the human conscious.

╟╧╜╚╕╘╧╨╪╬╗

...His heart, suffocating under the mass of the 'it,' that threatened to encompass his entire being, envelop it into itself--

...Yet, its words made its way to his mind, before the cowardly Master forced himself to wake with a bite to his finger.

Y o u a r e n o t a l o n e . S e e k T H E M .

...The being, so foreign, spoke now as if the Master himself were speaking to 'him' in a mirror.

...The seeping, crawling feeling faded in an instant, as the familiar 'My lord!' awoke him from his slumber.

With Da Vinci fussing over something in the other room, surely preparing to announce the time of their Rayshift, the cowardly Master made a beeline for somewhere -- someone -- he knew would help.

--

"Oh, hell no."

Ritsuka had spent a solid five or six seconds just laughing incredulously, before their eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak.

"--I'd heard it from... something. Ritsuka, we already know they exist, and... We need to know what they're up to. If they're allies, we need to get their aid, and..."

"It's not that."

Ritsuka interrupted my speech by placing a finger over my mouth. Breathing out, they placed their index finger on their temple, as if trying to formulate what they were to say next.

"Thing is, Cadence, we have a serious problem with time stuff right now. We already have a sudden Singularity that's just happened, despite our best efforts, and your first idea is to go check other timelines? And off the advice of a weird thing that appeared in your dreams after the Singularity was formed, no less!"

Ritsuka breathed a long, drawn out sigh out, as I took the opportunity to get a word in.

"This time stuff is something we can take advantage of, especially because we've just achieved a sort of contact with it. Remember Quetzacoatl? She was acting as if she were in a different Chaldea entirely, for the day we summoned her, until her Spirit Origin 'shifted.' All things considered, we need to check up on that."

Placing a finger to my neck to calm myself, lightly scratching its side, Ritsuka waited a moment before responding.

"...Listen, if you're right, we can't do this willy-nilly. You know full well how dangerous this is. But..."

...Ritsuka shook their head, raising their hand in what I could only assume was the brief consideration of punching themselves in the face.

"...You're not the type to take stupid risks. The fact you're not avoiding this like the plague says to me that you've got something in mind. After all these things we've seen up to now... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I guess we'll have to look at even more time shit."

...The Master laughed, in disbelief, before turning on their heel and beginning to move south.

"...I think, if anyone's going to know about this, it's going to be a certain Moon Cancer."

"--You're not seriously thinking of going to her for advice, right?!"

"Less advice, Cadence, more a way to figure out what the hell has been happening outside our little bubble. I doubt we'll be able to see everything, but even just a little bit will do. It'll tell us who our allies might be if we end up forced to one of their worlds."

Ritsuka raised their hands over their head, stretching themselves out and yawning loudly to get out the slight ache of sleeping on a Chaldea bed.

"...Or, if a Singularity forces us into contact with them," he continued with an awkward laugh, "we need to figure out who won't kill us on sight."

...Turning a corner of Chaldea's hallways, he'd knock upon a very certain door -- greeted by a purple-haired lady, smiling wide, with a gaze best described as a mixture between intimidating, venomous, yet also fairly innocent for the moment. "Why, if it isn't my favourite senpais. What brings you here so soon? Ritsuka, you usually at least wait 'til noon to try out some BB slots."

The lady took her seat on her bed, resting her chin on her right hand and raising an eyebrow -- turning an ear to the two of us.

"No slots today, sadly. BB -- I'd like you to help us understand other people."

"...Other people? Senpai, you're not exactly lacking in the social department. Although, C--"

"--Not like that," I quickly clarified, if only to save my own pride. "We're looking to understand people from... different Chaldeas, if that makes any sense."

...At that, BB's eyes widened, if only for a moment -- then smiled, with a sort of distinct softness, before it returned to its usual mischievous aura.

"Is that so..? You're sure about this, right, Senpai~? Surely you wouldn't wish to be jealous of Masters better off than you two."

Before I could respond -- frozen just for a moment at hearing that -- Ritsuka piped up in my place.

"Yeah, we're alright with that. At day's end, we want to see other people like us. What they've done, and... If they'd be allies for us, should we somehow meet."

...The mischievous lady only nodded, before placing a floating screen just in front of them.

"If that's the case, I have no choice but to show you all the other Senpais out there! ♥"

...And, mere moments after -- our first sight showed its face.

--

"--You vermin should know that I am the only one who can hurt my centipede!"

An annoying voice, marked with an angered 'sigh' that would've made most anyone's hairs raise on end.

Yet, to the Master they now saw, such a voice could bring only the brightest of smiles. Two beings of seeming opposites, giving each other a knowing glance before a wave of confidence enveloped them both.

With the casual smile only a devil could muster, the Moon-Cancer made short, easy work of the mere beasts in their way. The icy wasteland, seeping away at the Master's bones, did little to harm the sense of warmth that seemed to envelop them both.

"Now, now, Quin," the lady spoke with a chuckle, "don't get too happy yet~! There's a cave to hang out in not too far away -- we can talk there!"

Quin -- That was the Master's name. A spare glance at their BB's face told them all they reckoned they had to know -- in place of her devilish grin, remained a mischievous -- yet warm, glowing smile.

The moment they fled into an otherwise dark, empty cave, Quin collapsed to tears -- perhaps in part of fears that could only come from traversing a Lostbelt alone, but seemingly mostly of relief.

"How... H-How did you get here..?!"

Through sobs, the Master spoke, as the Moon-Cancer only smiled, and laughed, crouching down beside her Master.

"Quinny, I'm hurt~! You should know by now that I can pretty much do whatever I want."

Neither Master observing the event could truly understand the pain she went through just to reappear at the side of her Master -- but Ritsuka, sparing a glance to look at the BB that manifested there, saw teary eyes, and a soft smile.

...The face of someone who had almost certainly been through hell.

Cadence focused upon the Master themselves, finding himself awed. A Master who, despite all that remained against her, found herself with allies that wouldn't so easily give up and leave her. A Master who, though almost assuredly afraid, still stood up and kept pushing forward. And a Master who stayed with the Moon-Cancer who seemed as if she was her exact opposite, as both impacted each other permanently.

--

"...That was Quin, senpais~!"

Spending a moment holding a hand to her eyes, BB soon returned to her usual self -- Ritsuka only smiled, but didn't elaborate on it any further.

"...That was..."

...She seemed to be a good person. A 'hero' -- even allied with someone considered evil, she...

...She was a hero. In her own right, she was a hero -- even if she were afraid, she still pushed forward, and fought with the bravery of a hero.

"...Well, we probably have one ally, Cadence.”

Ritsuka smiled a bit, as if to ease me of something I'd not realized I had, before returning to the Moon-Cancer.

"What's our next sight, then?"

To that, the Servant only winked, before another screen enveloped their sights.

--

"...Hey."

A black-haired man, narrowed eyes at two writers not far in front of him.

No time for grief, for there was still something to do. The eyes of a man who had a plan -- even if far out, one he would place his faith in.

Those eyes -- sharpened, fire sprouting within that pupil of his -- were eyes of sheer determination.

"If you can turn fantasy into reality, how about we pull a Moriarty on me?"

A sentence truly outside the realm of 'reality' -- one that caused Cadence to recoil in shock. Yet, the cowardly Master still found himself leaned in to listen, as the other Master beside him smiled and nodded to themselves.

Mash, turning to face the black-haired Master, raised her eyebrows in some form of confusion.

"--Huh..? Senpai, what are you talking about?"

"Moriarty has that gun from that one German story. If the authors here can do something similar to help me, then..."

...The Master spent a moment in thought, but it certainly wasn't one spent in hesitation. No -- both observing Masters knew the look well.

It was one of focus, and of finalizing their plan. It brought back memories of Reines, of Chen Gong, and of El-Melloi.

"...That doesn't sound outside the realm of possibility."

The taller author -- Murasaki, at a closer glance -- spent a few seconds staring upwards in thought before replying. The smaller author, surely Hans, stared at his colleague and Master with a mixture of incredulity -- and, just as much, curiosity.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Let me see if I can find what I'm looking for."

To this, the Master flicked his fingers delicately from a row of comic books situated carefully on a shelf, up until he pulled a certain issue out, as if it were made for this very moment.

"--This! This, here."

Opening the comic to a specific page, as if he'd done this a thousand times before, he placed his finger upon one panel in specific -- a planet made of dark ooze, its inhabitants slimy parasitic creatures.

A middle-of-the-road author, almost assuredly Shakespeare, took a close look, and smirked, as the Master elaborated.

"Symbiotes. From Marvel."

As the determined Master watched the author's expressions, Shakespeare decided -- as usual -- to be among the first to speak.

"Interesting."

...Hans, meanwhile, twisted his face into a frown.

"...I'm not sure how I feel, adapting a modern work like this."

"Just do it. I'll be able to save her with those powers."

The Master only furrowed his brow, his voice taking on a slight firmness to it. Andersen picked up on that tone of voice -- one of someone who had already weighed their options, and one that had already decided their fate. The author silenced himself for the time -- at times like this, even he recognized that he had to put his author's code to rest.

"Senpai... Is this really a good idea?"

Mash spoke carefully, placing her words best to try and ensure her friend had thought it through. She had faith in his idea, the observing Masters could tell, but it was certainly best to avoid acting rashly.

"...I need to save her, Mash."

The Master, certainly, had already made his decision. As he elaborated, Mash's concerned expression shifted to a soft smile -- assured that, at least, he was sure of this action. If he held faith it’d work, then she felt she could as well.

"I hate being without her. And I want to skewer the fools who took her away."

...Murasaki, at that, only nodded.

"I can see the pain he's feeling. We... should help."

...At his fellow authors' words, Hans raised his hands up, and grinned awkwardly.

"Fine, we'll turn you into an alien monster. But it likely won't stick when this Singularity's fixed."

"So long as I get my wife back, I'm fine with it."

The gaze of the Master said it all -- he would stop at nothing to find, and save, someone he loved.

Suddenly, to the two observing Masters -- the sheer determination of this Master, even as he requested a possibly dangerous procedure, now only made sense.

...He, too, had something to protect.

--

The Moon-Cancer smiled, for a moment, before closing her screen.

"That, Senpai, was Rex. A Master who managed to tame even a lady like Quetzacoatl~!" Ritsuka gazed back at me, the look in his eye saying it all.

"...That was his Quetzacoatl?!"

Of course, his incredulous statement immediately after solidified things -- as, giving it some thought, I'd realized myself what had happened.

"...Well, now I feel a bit bad, summoning Quetzacoatl like that. Probably should've used a catalyst that wasn't a T. Rex plushie."

As Ritsuka casually said something that made even BB perform a double take, my mind fell a little bit -- as I tried to make heads or tails of that Master.

'...That man... Despite a situation so grim that he had to alter his own body, and add a Phantasmal Spirit to its structure... He didn't look fearful at all.'

No -- it wasn't fearlessness. That was sheer grit, made only stronger by what was on the line. His sharp tone, the fire in his eyes, wasn't from foolish aggression or rashness -- it was from a man whose life and love were all on the line. A man who knew how bad the situation could get, and one that could swallow their fear and fight for the sake of someone they loved.

'...No wonder she was so insistent on finding him.'

The horrible taste of jealousy caught in my throat -- my eyes closed, seeing only that fiery gaze.

...That was bravery.

...My eyes flipped between screen after screen -- Rex' fiery gaze, and his risky yet high-reward plan just to save his lover. Quin's emotional strength in the heat of the moment, holding out and fighting long enough to find safety, being such a kind Master that even one like BB would cherish her.

'...Compared to them...'

...That jealousy, that surrounded my neck, tightening it and stealing my breath away. Envy at their strength, where I had lacked it.

Those -- were heroes. Those were the people that would surely save their 'Chaldea.'

...Certainly, I knew my own weaknesses -- but it only became clearer, where I stood.

"...Cadence, I think he's an ally. Whaddya think?"

But the jealousy cleared itself from my neck as Ritsuka shouldered me lightly, and as a hand formed itself upon my shoulder. Silent though it was, I knew that grip as well as the back of my hand.

"...He's no Genji."

...An approving voice -- Ushiwakamaru, doffing her mask and blindfold and sitting just beside me.

"...He fights our fight. An enemy of the Genji is a friend of mine."

...That jealousy wouldn't so easily leave me -- but I only allowed my mind, for a moment, to recognize my own strengths.

Even if I paled in comparison to these two heroes, I still had something.

"...I think he's an ally, too, Ritsuka. Maybe a little blunt, but... I've only ever seen a gaze like that in you."

The Master beside me scoffed.

"Are you kiddin' me, chief? I don't think I've seen anyone so determined to help someone. And seeing as how you're showing us that, BB, I assume he succeeded."

"Correct~! Both of these two are just as alive as you are. And, y'know, this isn't the end of our marathon."

...Ritsuka raised an eyebrow.

"Jeez, just how many saviours of humanity are there? I find it hard to believe so many Earths got the crap end of the stick."

"You'd know if you counted to infinity, senpai~! I'm only showing you the ones you'll probably meet. I snuck a little charm into that Quetz' pocket, you see, and now you're linked~!"

...

"What."

Ritsuka took approximately five seconds before responding.

"It was just a bit of stomach medication. A little baggie I gave her. I don't even think she knows it's there."

...

"What."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding~! Maybe."

...As me, and Ritsuka, found ourselves completely sidetracked by what was best described as 'the worst thing we've heard in centuries,' BB clapped her hands together and began pulling up a few more screens.

"I call a little intermission~! All three of you, get some treats and come back later. I promise you'll love the next ones."

--

...

An ever-shining light, bypassing such simple screens, watched 'them' in their many, many seats.

Them who threatened to suffocate and take over 'them,' 'him,' but who satisfied themselves watching the production of Life.

The rakugo theatre intrigued them all -- as a lone 'it,' playing the parts of them all, laughed and dropped another punchline to the tale. Surely, a dramatic, comical, saddening, heartmelting, uplifting 'rakugo' --

...As the actors raised their hands to follow suit, and drive the coward into the next act of his performance, 'it' held up its fan and its cloth, waving the acting Masters to their next story -- to the next ochi.

▄▀▄██▌▌░█▓╨╨╜╓═

The ever-shining light laughs, and cries, and screams, and smiles gently.

The performance has only just begun.