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nattikay · 4 years ago

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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

#so anyways I put way too much thought into this...enjoy I guess?#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toby domzalski #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #furry #my art

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felassan · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Dark Fortress #3

(This post is under a cut due to spoilers.)

There’s a lot I thought/wanna say about this final issue, to the point that it’s hard to know where to start!

The cover art is.. beautiful. The symbolic allusion between Shirallas and the dragon (his draconic-y claws, the semblance of a broken collar falling off in the same way, the fire) 👌 On the whole, lined up side-by-side the three covers of Dark Fortress feel really thematically cohesive. Shirallas’ and the dragon’s claws echo Tractus’ sharp metal gauntlet, and as well as the similarities between the dragon and Shirallas, both Tractus and the dragon have a circle of weapons, and the patterning encircles Tractus’ neck and wrists like the collars and shackles. Y’know, like you can just really tell the cover artist planned ahead and put a lot of thought into how the 3 cover arts would ‘flow’ from one to the other, blending elements between them.

I posted some of my fav panels here.

I knew he was my boy but Shirallas’ backstory broke my heart ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) the first panel is so bleak and heart-wrenching. the burning aravel parts.. another Dalish clan met a terrible fate.

I wonder if his clan wandered Tevinter like Clan Oranavra? it makes me wonder if Shirallas and Fenris met in Tevinter. It’s nice to see that another clan took him in. And if Shirallas is a name he took, not his original name, I assume it has a special meaning, maybe to do with his quest for justice/vengeance. Shiral means journey, “allas” is found in vallas, which means set, as in the sun. The “vallas” in vallasdahlen (life-trees, planted in remembrance of those who dedicated their lives to the Dales) means life. in many ways the sun and life are the same thing, and there’s the obvious connection to Elgar’nan, eldest of the sun. So journey/quest - sun/life? Like since the loss of his clan he’s on a journey/quest for the rest of his life to get justice/vengeance, which are attributes of the sun god Elgar’nan? that became his life’s purpose and his direction of ‘travel’ ever since his loss, what he dedicated his life to since then. :’(

Elgara vallas, da'len. ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

This is our first look at the vallaslin application process, no? what Shirallas is saying in this panel is the Song to Elgar’nan. it’s interesting, in that that prayer kind of resembles what happened, or almost happened, in this issue. a fortress shaken, fire, winged death (a dragon), pretenders to power, “strike the usurpers” (“Red Wraith, dispose of my enemies, kill the traitorous mage”). pretty cool right?

⬇️ me two months ago, look at the tags in red brackets.

oh my son.. Dalish father roams, and the Dalish son won’t survive the fight ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

the panel where Fenris and Shirallas shake hands ;; to which experience is Fenris speaking of, I wonder? once upon a time he saw Anders almost lose himself in his own quest for Justice/Vengeance for the mages.

Parallels between Shirallas succeeding in proving himself to Nenealeus and when Fenris succeeded in proving himself to Danarius all those years ago - compare. ;__; an elf surrounded by bodies of people he’d killed to prove himself, and a horrible Magister telling him “well done”.

I love the design of the sword and its use as a ‘divider’ on the first page splitting up the panels is both smart and beautiful. even here there’s pink light around it, the dragon’s fire

overall I wasn’t expecting this issue to begin with flashbacks to Shirallas’ past and backstory, so this whole page caught me off-guard

omg look at the red lyrium ‘veins’ under Shirallas’ skin. when he emerges from the sarcophagus that is a very cool picture of his face

Nenealeus has been taking beard-styling advice/trends from the dwarves

check out the sword crackling and reforming as Shirallas makes contact with it. is the red lyrium under his skin moving in this scene?

in the panel of Vaea running away from the dragon, it’s nice that as she runs Fenris is still behind facing the dragon, to protect her

gorgeous background in the panel with Marquette, and his expression is one of Regret for what he just did and for his part in all this. the dawning realization that I’ve Fucked Up Big Time

as Nenealeus’ weapon is a sword, does he have some Knight Enchanter-adjacent skills (I don’t expect the actual KE artform is exclusive to southern Circles only)? it’s a physical item ofc, not a summoned one. staffs are infused with lyrium to provide a conduit for a mage’s power. so then, mages can channel power through other [presumably similarly-infused] weapons too, not just mage staves/staff-like magic implements or their bare hands

given the color of Nenealeus’ magic and the fact that the dragon was under the control of his magic, it now makes sense to me why the dragon’s fire is that color! o:

Marius is badass (nice touch that his shoulder is smoking pink with the effects of one of Nenealeus’ magic attacks here) and the four panels where everyone’s grim and determined, facing off against each other and Venatori goons made me feel quite emotional. Aaron is Team Dad.. it’s nice to see him having a friendship / paternal moment with Francesca both acknowledging her pain and power while also giving her a pep talk. You can tell when he says too “We all need to do whatever we can in this moment” that he’s talking about himself too and may already be thinking one or some of them aren’t going to make it out of there

Francesca GO OFF!! she’s so powerful, and it’s really cool every time seeing her plant magic in action. it puts in perspective how powerful Velanna would have been with her similar skills (skills like Thornblades), and I enjoy the contrast of the fire in the background and the blue/green of Fran’s magic in action

Fenris is so cool-headed in high-octane combat situations, quickly taking stock, assessing and realizing the odds then coming up with a plan. the look on Vaea’s face when she’s like >:( wtf u can’t just leave is cute

cool pulled-back bird’s eye shot of the Fortress

Karasten continuing with the sass about Tevinter even during a siege

Fenris speaking Qunlat! I love that they brought this lore fact into play and had him make use of this skill, it’s a neat reminder of Fenris’ exchange with the Arishok if you take him into the compound in DA2. in the opening-up the gates scene, Vaea’s worried about letting the Qunari in and going to the Qunari (from her expression), but she trusts Fenris and his judgement enough to open the gate and see what happens

I like that Tessa’s bolts are fletched the blue of her accent color

chills at the panel where Shirallas is walking out of the flames advancing on Aaron. Ser Aaron, who never retreats, not at Ostagar, not now ;__;

the battle-scenes are beautiful, fast-paced and gory, chaotic and colorful, like it would feel to be there

Fenris then puts himself between Aaron and Shirallas. I could hear “I will deal with this Red Wraith” in my head

Autumn can look so scary. a true mabari warrior! when she leapt towards Shirallas I was Stressed for her safety despite knowing rationally that they wouldn’t kill their dog!

the horizontal combat splash page is awesome

CLEVER GIRL Autumn. she and Fenris are in sync in this sequence.

Shirallas serving super saiyan vibes with the bulk, strength, hair

Fenris bargaining for Fran’s life and then trusting her to use her magic as part of the attack on the Red Wraith

lmao Ser Aaron

smart thinking Fran

Aaron praising her ;__;

Marius was straight-up prepared to die to stop Nenealeus ;__; poor Tessa in this exchange

the face-melting scene 👌

“Ah, Marius... I knew it would come down to the two of us”: this panel is just really cool? Nenealeus looks almost congenial here, which makes him seem all the more colder and more dangerous. and the burning bodies strongly remind me of the bodies at the start of Inquisition which are at the ‘blast point’ of the Breach at the Conclave

when Marius and Vaea’s eyes meet and they formulate the backup plan 👌

nice to see ‘staff’-less magic in action. Nenealeus is clearly a very powerful mage. when he’s frying Marius he has Star Wars Palpatine and force lightning vibes

OH VAEA... you did it, but my heart hurts that she had to kill someone for the first time, even though it was foreshadowed by her discussion with Marius in a earlier issue. & Nenealeus’ look of surprise as he dies says it all

it’s a serious moment but Marius now looks like a cat that stuck its paw in a socket hh

when Nenealeus is doubled over dead, it’s a great panel- the white background taking us out of the chaos that’s going on all-around for just a moment, showing the seriousness of what’s just transpired for Vaea and the realization of it setting in. a pause, the shock. & it’s nice to see Marius being soft with someone other than Calpernia or Tessa

but despite what’s just happened Vaea is still Vaea, she’s concerned about life and immediately wants to save the dragon. I like the part where panels of Vaea and Fran ‘face’ each other as they have this discussion, a lot.

in the moment that it takes off, does the dragon realize Vaea is responsible for saving its life? the ‘eye’ panel feels like an acknowledgement from it, or between the two

Fran’s magic destroying and sinking the sarcophagus into the ground reminds me of what in-world lore says happened to Arlathan, in a way

omg they have to stop Shirallas before he gets over 9000

do you think when Aaron says “We cannot retreat” he’s thinking of Loghain’s retreat at Ostagar?

at this point btw I’m pleasantly surprised that Marius survives, I had sort of expected him to die in this issue

oh Marquette, curiosity killed the cat dontcha know

new lore just dropped: the Red Wraith is able to heal from any wound, which is notable, and he and the sword have a.. symbiotic relationship? with each other. “He feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins. And in turn, the sword heals his wounds.” What are the lore implications of this? Just what is red lyrium capable of?

Paragon Branka reference! and later on a Black Marsh reference

:’( As soon as Aaron launched into his story at this point my stress levels went through the roof and I knew it was Time. and then - well. you know :’((( Aaron had death flags in previous issues, so I was logically prepared and not surprised by the occurrence (this isn’t a bad thing btw), but I still wasn’t EMOTIONALLY PREPARED

mfw

nooooooooo.... It was at this point everyone that I burst into tears.. i have never Ugly Cried at a comic before so that was a new experience.. It’s hard to put my feelings about this into words bc rly it just straight-up destroyed me, u know.. Vaea’s “Don’t leave me”, Aaron’s tears when he knows the deed is done, his pendant.. surely the resemblance between the way he looks on this cover and the way he looks in the panel when he’s falling and Vaea is shouting “Aaron!” is intentional. i’m just destroyed okay

On the next page, holes in Shirallas’ shirt where his wounds were before they healed is a nice touch. Autumn’s bite here must surely be shattering the bone in his lower leg. then as if i wasn’t in enough pain already - being separated from the weapon, did that bring Shirallas back to himself for a while? His “Friend?” and the look in his eyes when he looks up at Fenris is so pitiful :’( for a moment just before the end he’s the boy in the wood surrounded by his burning clan again. RIP Shirallas son, we barely knew ye but I loved u :’(((

Having Marquette escape is a smart choice, it means there’s someone still kicking around Thedas who knows what happened here and what went down. maybe we seek him out in the next game when trying to follow up on the plot-thread of the idol/red lyrium/its capabilities/Venatori/Qunari? anyway, can’t help but admire, in a fashion anyway, someone who dips out to save their own skin, and his attempted grift when he’s talking to Tractus x)

we hadn’t seen the last of Tractus indeed. there he is! “This is me, crying over our loss” - he’s such an edgy boi

THE IDOL

“Oh, you mean this idol?” feels like they’re breaking the fourth wall and deliberately teasing us x)

when Fenris says “[stay clear of it] Red lyrium can do things with your mind” I wonder if he’s thinking of his experiences with things like Bartrand and Meredith

started to cry again at the final Aaron scenes ok.. when it pans back to Vaea and Autumn on the shore with the dying Aaron, they look so small and lonely set against the backdrop of the gray rock, windy shore, jagged outcrops. it’s a beautifully poignant and incredibly forlorn backdrop for this scene. Autumn in these panels, and again the parallel between Aaron lying here and him on that cover page.. ;; the whole scene is raw and gutwrenching. even in death Aaron was thinking about Vaea, apologizing that she had to take a life, outlining his hopes that she continues to have a positive future and doesn’t descend into any kind of darkness. the fact that all this time he’s carried around a letter addressed to King Alistair in his pocket, to recommend that Vaea be knighted, the fact that he’s crying too, the pendant, the tenderness between them, how proud Aaron is of Vaea, the fact that he goes out telling a story and smiling because he’s so proud of her, here at the end Aaron is filled with pride and looks at peace.. i can’t ( ok i cried again on this re-read when writing this post, Dad Stuff is the ultimate way to get me ok.. don’t look at me _(°:з」∠)_ )

Vaea IS more than worthy. I’m so glad someone recognizes that and sees it in her. King Alistair WOULD knight her, and there’s a beautiful poetry in that fact as the son of an elf. there’s also something poetic in that, if Vaea becomes the first elven knight of Ferelden, well it echoes the Emerald Knights of old in a way. that’s beautiful. I’m very proud of Vaea.

Here we see another parallel - when Francesca is comforting a crying Vaea as her father figure passes away, it directly echoes when Vaea comforted Francesca when she was crying after her own father died.

Aaron’s hometown of Portsmouth is a real place in England

I’m happy to see Fran and Autumn continuing to travel with Vaea, and Fenris continuing to keep his promise to Aaron to keep Vaea safe, and that Cassé is now Fran’s horse (that’s a lovely touch considering she healed him in Blue Wraith, a full-circle moment)

Fenris is right, they were family. soft supportive Fenris, with emotional intelligence ;; (and he of all people knows about Found Family)

the last panel of Vaea crying is beautiful too, the sun is rising in the east after the terrible night they’ve had, and the ‘faded’ rectangles is a great style/composition choice

even Cassé the horse looks sad

the scene of Fran and Vaea riding double with Fenris smiling in the background is super cute, and I love that the last we see of the party is them honoring Ser Aaron by telling stories like he did, of his exploits. I hope they always tell stories of Ser Aaron ;;

I’m glad Tessa made it out okay, she’ll be able to return to Charter. 💜 I was a bit worried this wouldn’t be the case

the last page DBKGRRGRKRKGREKF

Pour one out for Ser Aaron Hawthorne of Portsmouth, Knight of Ferelden.

---

A recap on wider plot-points

The Qunari Antaam have taken control of Castellum Tenebris, and Neromenian has fallen to their advance.

The sarcophagus is broken and has been buried deep in the ground. Francesca asserts that it won’t be found.

The Inquisition agents retrieved the broken shards of the weapon, and are going to take its remains to the shadow Inquisition.

Tractus Danarius is alive and in possession of the idol, or was at the timepoint of this comic. He wants to use it to impress the Venatori remnants so that he can rejoin them. Marquette thinks, or said that he thinks (could easily be a bluff or his lack of knowledge about it compared to someone like Solas), that it doesn’t work anymore. (I’m leaning towards it does still work, otherwise why would Solas be interested in it?)

Solas, in what looks kinda like his most recent DA4 trailer gear, was watching the events of this series/arc the whole time and knows what happened. He knows Tractus has the idol. None of the people in this comic plot are “People Solas doesn’t know”. And it seems that he is able to use eluvians to watch people.

There’s a chance that Tractus Danarius is the mage in Tevinter Nights, from Dread Wolf Take You - the mage from House Danarius who went with some slaves to Nevarra to use the idol to perform a ritual with the Mortalitasi. That mage wanted to change the world to help fight the Antaam’s invasion. In the tale at least, he used the idol, a rift opened, the Dread Wolf popped out and killed him. At the time of that ritual the idol was still working.

+ some new lore -

the Red Wraith was able to heal from any wound, which is notable, and he and the sword the idol created had a.. symbiotic relationship? with each other. “He feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins. And in turn, the sword heals his wounds.” What are the lore implications of this? Just what is red lyrium capable of?

eluvians can be used to watch people. not just to communicate over long distances or as portals between places

Lastly I don’t know what to do with myself anymore as this is the end of a long-running DA arc and was the final piece of [currently-known about] new canon Dragon Age content that we’ll get.

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dark fortress spoilers #dark fortress spoiler #dragon age #bioware #fenris #spoilers #spoiler #dragon age: dark fortress spoilers #dragon age: dark fortress spoiler #the Fenaissance #feels #gpoy

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rwby-necro-au-archive · 3 years ago

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Ozpin Week

Day Six: Day Off/In Battle

@ozpinweek

Description: It’s no surprise that running a Necromancer academy can come with issues. Necromancy is outlawed in many parts of the world after all.

One such issue is the equally unsurprising amount of Pursuers that try to sneak into beacon. Good thing that beacon is made for this, by having what is essentially a maze surrounding it’s buildings. The pursuers most times end up getting lost due to this.

Perhaps it’s also good that a certain headmaster watches his academy and students like a hawk in case of such incidents.

“How upsetting, and on such a lovely day like today.” Ozpin sighed. It would seem that he had been swamped with sorrowful reports and countless uninteresting meetings all day. What he had truly wanted was to be outside or at least to be interacting with his students. But it would all have to wait until these reports and paperwork were finished.

Even though today had started off as it normally would, Him getting up, getting ready for the day, and then heading off to the academy, it still felt like it was particularly monotonous and dull. Nothing interesting had happened, hell even the students hadn’t done any of their usual antics today.

He shook his head, it’s not like any of them could anyways, they had term ending exams to study for. Although he couldn’t help but wish someone would’ve done something.

Knock Knock Knock

A gentle but firm knock was heard at the door. He could tell it was Glynda, it was the small, seemingly insignificant details that he focused on when it came to people. Even the way someone knocked on a door could tell you who they were.

“Come in, Glynda.” Ozpin called out cheerily.

The door opened, “I will never understand how it is that you know whose outside your door even before they walk in.” She quipped.

“I always did pay attention to detail did I not?”

“That is true. Anyways, you look like you’ve had the life sucked out of you. How much paperwork?”

Ozpin leaned back in his office chair “What on remnant makes you think that I know? Absolutely nothing interesting has happened today. Such a shame, it’s such a lovely day too, and here I am stuck doing paperwork.”

Glynda gave a sympathetic sigh, “You aren’t the only one. Despite that, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Right, To the point. Is it something I should be concerned about?”

“Yes actually.”

His face became stern in response, “What is it?”

“A pursuer has decided to go looking for students to harass on premises.” She explained

“Why haven’t you or the other staff gone to handle the situation.”

She gave an eyebrow raise “Why?”

“My apologies but if they haven’t done anything yet then what would be the point in coming to me?”

“Fair. This one has been…..persistent. He refuses to “take the hint” and stay away from the school. He essentially mocks any staff that tries to get rid of him. Figured you’d be in more luck getting him to leave the students alone.”

Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose. How annoying. Not just a pursuer but a pursuer with the gall to mock his staff and harass innocent students, his students. It’s no wonder she came to him with the issue, she’s most likely more frustrated than he is.

“Also, I figured since you’ve been stuck in here all day that it would be good to give you something interesting to do. Not to mention get some fresh air” Glynda smiled

He smiled back “I appreciate it. Now then, where is he right now?”

“Seemingly lost in the northern wing’s maze.” She said, she handed him a photo taken from security footage.

He thanked her before leaving his office. Sure, pursuers weren’t an uncommon problem at Beacon but that didn’t make their presence any less annoying.

What was more surprising was that none of them whom he himself had dealt with, have had the audacity to actually go to their boss to tell him about his so called “friend” being a necromancer. Although, what pursuer would ever want to admit to their boss that they ran away from a necromancer?

In fact they, to Ozpin’s amusement, started heavily embellishing their stories to the other pursuers about what he was like. Some tales painted him as a terrifying monster, some painted him as a roughed up intimidating man with unspeakable power, and some painted him as a different being entirely.

It had turned into a game for the headmaster, to see what stories the pursuer he was dealing with had heard. At least it made the job of getting rid of those pests more enjoyable.

Without fail though, every pursuer who had heard about him was surprised to see him in person. The man they had heard was a terrifying monster, a roughed up untouchable man, or a different being entirely, was in reality a dapper, polite, and well kept 6’8 man with a northern Atlesian accent and a love and protectiveness for children.

He quickly walked out the main buildings doors and searched around for the northern entrance into the maze. Once found, he set off towards it. As he walked through the crowd he was greeted by students, all of whom were most likely on their way out of the school, he gave a quick hello and wished them well on their way home.

“Of course a pursuer would choose a time like this. Easy targets.” He mentally noted.

Once he entered the maze, the rest was muscle memory. He knew every corner, every corridor, every alley, every brick, stone, and piece of concrete of beacon like the back of his hand. Knowing where everything was at Beacon was as easy as walking itself for the headmaster.

As he walked he also listened. Listening was important in a situation such as this one. Eventually, what he had been listening for was heard. A yell. He picked up his pace and followed what he presumed was a female students yell.

As he listened further, it wasn’t just the one student, it was a group of them, most likely friends, who this pursuer had decided to go after.

This pursuer seemed to be a real colorful one too, throwing slurs and disgusting innuendos at the girls. There were 3 things Ozpin specifically hated, Pursuers, Those who aim to hurt children, and Creeps. Unfortunately for this pursuer, he was checking all the boxes.

He reached a corner and peered behind it. There stood 5 female students, backed into a wall by this disgusting excuse for a man.

“I bet the guards will have some real fun with you bunch once you get to atlas.” The pursuer sneered.

Ozpin appeared out from behind the corner, standing behind and over the pursuer, “Well that’s not very nice, now is it?” He spoke cooly.

The pursuer jumped and turned around. Eyes widening in realization as he looked up at who was standing in front of him.

“Y-you’re the monster all of the pursuers were talkin’ about.”

“Why yes! That is me!” He said cheerily

“I-I ain’t scared of you! You aren’t anything like they make you out to be. You’re just some guy, I can take you!” The man yelled.

“Tch tch tch, none of you ever learn from one another, do you?”

“The fuck you talkin’ about?!”

Ozpin smiled and looked towards the students, “Now students, here are 2 lessons for you all. Looks can be quite deceiving, take this man here for example. He may look threatening, but in reality, he is weak. He is weak because he is letting his anger get the best of him, which is not a wise decision if you are going to engage in combat.

When you are angry during combat, you stop thinking about how to hit your enemy, and instead just think about hitting your enemy anywhere in general. This leaves you vulnerable.”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh dear, and it seems we have quite a vulgar man as well.”

“Why are you bein’ so polite? I thought you were supposed to scary.” The pursuer snickered

Ozpin laughed, a cold, merciless, and wheezy sound, no doubt from his smoking habit. “Well, my friend, What kind of an example would I be setting if I wasn’t polite? I’m the head councilman of a country, a headmaster, and a professor! It’s my job to make sure I’m setting a good example on how to deal with pests such as yourself.”

He looked over at the pursuer, “show time.” He thought. In a simple blink his eye colored changed from a warm, caring hazelnut brown to a cold and soul destroying green.

“Besides, I am a merciful man. I wouldn’t want to make more of a fool of you when you’ve already done most of the work yourself.”

The pursuer visibly froze, he mentally laughed “Everytime, without fail. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it.”

Ozpin turned back to the students and told them to go home. He had business with this pursuer that he needed to attend to. Who was backed against the wall and helpless now?

The pursuer continued to yell slurs and insults at the headmaster. Eventually, he took out a blade an managed to slice Ozpin across the cheek, causing the headmaster to stumbled back some.

Okay, maybe not helpless. But he surely was backed against a wall in a maze with him.

Once he regained his footing, Ozpin ungloved one of his hands as he gently touched two fingers to the wound, “Well, I’m impressed, consider yourself lucky. You’re the first pursuer to ever actually land a hit on me. Even if it was a cheap shot.”

The pursuer laughed victoriously, while distracted by his small victory, Ozpin grabbed long memory. Quickly shifting it into its shotgun form.

“Although,” He spoke.

He harshly shoved the pursuer against the brick wall, leaving the man slightly dazed and confused. Ozpin aimed long memory at the wall besides the pursuers head and stared down at the man.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?”

#no Ozpin doesn’t kill him. he essentially just scares the fuck out of him and tells him to run along afterwards #necromancer ozpin #headmaster ozpin #ozpin #professor ozpin #injury mention tw #blood mention tw #gun mention tw #violence mention tw

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crayonwriting · 4 years ago

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08 - Why, Why Did I Ever Let You Go

Summary: Maiko just wanted her good ol’ dad to walk her down the aisle. So, she invited the three men from your past in hopes of meeting him. The only problem was, which one of them is it?

Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Bokuto Koutarou x Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Disclaimer: This is based on the movie directed by Phyllida Loyd and written by Catherine Johnson which is inspired by the music of the pop group ABBA.

catch up here!

After a few hours of bustling about, you were finally able to set up the tables and a few decorations. You were currently untangling a long cord of fairy lights to test out in the evening. Just as you were about to unravel a small knot, Bokuto appeared out of the blue. You clutched at your chest slightly trying to calm your heart.

"Bokuto."

He chuckled. "Whatever happened to just 'Koutarou'?"

"What are you still doing here?" You returned your attention to the task at hand. The knot that you were trying to unravel earlier seemed to have tangled itself again. With Bokuto's presence nearby, it became difficult to continue. You dropped the fairy lights back in its box, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Here, let me help you with that." Bokuto knelt down on the other side of the box, picking up the knot you were working on. He unconsciously let his tongue peek out of his lips as he concentrated on his work. You took this time to admire him.

Bokuto, like Oikawa, has matured over the years. He seemed to retain his strong physique and his hair was the same length and colour as you remembered. He seemed much calmer than before. He used to shout obnoxiously whenever he wanted to.

"All done." He said with a proud smile. He noticed the way you were looking at him, which made his heart skip a small beat. He coughed into his hand, snapping you out of your small daydream.

"So, Y/N, would you like to go on a walk?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He scolded himself for acting like a teenager. But he couldn't help feeling like he is especially when it came to you.

"Why do you want to take a walk with me, Bokuto?"

"Can you please just call me Koutarou again?" He looked straight into your eyes. "And I just wanted to catch up with you. I also want to show you something. Please Y/N-chan." He jutted his bottom lip outward, doing his best attempt at a pout. Unfortunately for you, just like with Olkawa, it worked.

***

You and Bokuto took a small stroll around the village. He conversed with some of the locals, especially the elderly women. They were all fond of Bokuto and seeing him interact with them reminded you of his obaasan, Meiko.

That woman helped you stand on your feet when you found yourself broken and useless when Kuroo had left you. She saw you bumming about on the mainland and had asked what you were doing. You just gave her a vacant stare, proceeding to cry after. She tsked at the state you were in. She then invited you inside the small bar that she owned and made you drink a glass of water. Too numb to form a coherent response, you just did what she said robotically.

After finally explaining to her what had happened, she offered you a job in her bar. With nothing else to do, you agreed. You worked as a waitress and a bartender and then after a few weeks, when her son had dropped by the bar to perform with his band, you became a singer for the bar. Everyone was mesmerized by your voice and you enjoyed singing in front of the crowd—it reminded you of all the good times you had with Yoshiko and Rika.

“Thank you for the fruit!” Bokuto bowed in respect before returning to your side. He took a bite of the apple he had bought from a stall and handed the plastic bag to you. “Do you want some, Y/N?”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, Bokuto.” He grimaced at you still refusing to call him by his first name. “So, you said you wanted to show me something?” This seemed to lift his mood and he then proceeded to lead you to the docks. When you neared the end, you gaped at the beautiful vessel in front of you painted in a clean white color accented by an amazing wood brown. He stretched his arms out wide as he made jazz hands towards the boat.

"Ta-da! Meet my beautiful princess!" Bokuto put his hands on his waist and looked at his boat like a proud father. "My pride and joy." He looked at you, still gaping. "So? What do you think?"

"When you said you had a boat, I didn't think it was this kind of boat! I thought you were referring to, I don’t know, a tugboat or something."

He laughed at your comment. "Now why would I get a tugboat? That’s interesting, though.” His expression then softened a little as he looked at you. “Remember when I told you I wanted to travel the world? What better way to do it then by sailing?” You nodded at the memory, remembering it very clearly.

You've been spending every day then with Bokuto ever since he arrived. He helped out at the bar and has been nothing but sweet and fun to be around with. In that short amount of time together, you had told him about staying and living on the island and he had told you about his dream of travelling the world.

Bokuto also voiced his concern about the rising prices of flights. So, you suggested, albeit jokingly, that he buy a boat which could serve as his accommodation—besides transport—to cut off expenses. He considered the thought and he did just that, a few years later.

“You told me to buy a boat and I did. Best thing to come to my life.” Besides you, he wanted to add.

“It was a joke!”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “Can’t give this back now, can I? And besides, I don’t regret one thing.” That includes you.

“Do you join races as well, like you once told me you would?”

“Hell yeah! I just won one recently. I mean, not to brag.” He puffed out his chest in pride which only made you laugh.

“Let’s take her out for a spin!’ He gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the boat.

“Eh? But I have to prepare the villa and—”

“Just to that small part of the island over there,” he pointed to the distance, “And I’ll sail you right back. I promise.”

The sun was still high up in the sky, casting its bright rays upon the island. The whole place was bright and beautiful—the aquamarine of the sea, the green leaves of the trees, the faint smell of salt in the air—you could’ve sworn you were living in a postcard or something.

And in the midst of the beauty of Kalokairi, stood in the middle was Bokuto who already had a foot on the small ladder of his boat with his palm open towards you. His golden eyes were gleaming and his smile made something bubble in you that felt warm—almost as warm as the sun’s rays.

You took his hand in yours.

***

"This is amazing!" You held unto the sides of the boat as it seamlessly glided along the waves. Bokuto smiled at your amazed state from his position on the wheel.

Soft music played on his phone in his pocket as he continued to watch you. It seemed like you were in some type of cheesy music video, with the way your hair was flowing in the wind and the orange glow of the sunset seemed to accentuate your features.

Not able to help himself, he gradually slowed the boat down and anchored it in the middle of the sea but still fairly close to the shore. You eyed him curiously as he approached you.

“What are you planning?” You raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“Nothing, nothing.” He pulled out his phone and changed the song that was currently playing. When the first few notes had played you immediately groaned and slapped a palm to your face. Of course he would pick that song.

"This is my favorite jam!" Bokuto started snapping his fingers and moved his hips to the beat. You covered your face in embarrassment for him. He did the exact same thing all those many years ago.

You were working a night at the bar when the band wanted you to perform a song. This was the song that was chosen that night and Bokuto had sung—and danced—with you. You didn't feel embarrassed then but being reminded of it right now, you realized that it's one of the silliest things you've ever done.

"C'mon Y/N-chan, dance with me!" He grabbed your wrists and swayed you from side to side. He tentatively pulled you closer to him but you didn't notice. Bokuto circled his hips comically making you laugh. “Aww, you danced that night away like there was no tomorrow! Don't be shy, it's just me." He eyed you with a soft look and smile. Bokuto always had the easiest and contagious smile you knew of. You found yourself relaxing a little bit in his hold before you experimentally shimmied your shoulders.

"Now, that's the spirit!" Bokuto moved with you and soon enough you were dancing, albeit ridiculously, and belting to the song's chorus.

The song was only almost five minutes long but it felt like a lifetime to Bokuto. He spent the first two convincing you to dance with him and the other three minutes to actual dance with you. His heart thumped erratically against his chest in both excitement and nervousness.

The way your shoulders would brush against his or when you pressed your back against his chest to recreate that one dance move that night, all of these may mean nothing to you but to him it felt like electricity.

The song had ended with you and Bokuto chest to chest. You were slightly out of breath because of the slight adrenaline but after realizing the almost non-existent distance between your faces, you suddenly found it hard to breathe. Both of you remained quiet, only staring into each other's eyes. Bokuto pulled you in just a tad bit closer.

"Koutarou." You watched his eyes flicker for a moment. Finally hearing his first name tumble out of your mouth made his eyes widen for a moment. You gave him a small smile which you hoped conveyed everything you wanted to say. You searched his eyes and you could see the wheels turning in his head. You giggled softly at the way his eyebrows were slanted as he was deep in thought. You pressed your thumbs against them lightly, smoothing them out.

"I need to get back now." You said.

Not this soon, please. He pleaded inside his head. He looked at you for any signs of hesitation, maybe, but you were determined. Bokuto smiled, a tight-lipped smile before nodding once and going back to his position behind the wheel.

The sun had just set on the horizon when you arrived back. The walk back up the docks was quiet but comfortable. Spending the past hour with Bokuto made you think of what might have been—just like what you thought of when you were with Oikawa earlier. What if it was Bokuto who you ended up with? Would it always be like this, afternoon sailing with some dancing and karaoke? Would he even have his beat in the first place? You shook your head at your silly daydreams.

Just when you neared the end of the docks, you turned to him and stated that you can walk back on your own, emphasizing as well how you knew the island like the back of your hand.

"Thank you for sailing me around on your boat. It was also nice catching up with you." You didn't know what possessed you to do so, but you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek on his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Koutarou. I'm glad you're still chasing your dreams." You tried pulling away but Bokuto pulled you back to him, placing a hand at the back of your head and one on your back.

"I'm proud of you too, Y/N-chan."

The hug only lasted for a few more seconds before you finally pulled away. You took a few steps back, waving goodbye. Before you were out of reach, he took your hand and kissed the back of it. You flushed lightly and just nodded and walked away.

Bokuto sighed to himself, kicking at the ground. If only he'd return to Kalokairi after that visit with his aunt then maybe, things would've been different between you two.

tags: @yikes-buddy / @ushi-please / @melodiamore / @akaashi-todorki / @honeymoneyy / @minty-mangos-world / @ochabby / @paettonissahotcheeto / @chrisrue15 / @cottage-babe2 / @tsukkx / @yashinosakura / @coconut-dreamz / @roseestuosity / @youstydiaa / @shiningstar-byulxx / @mkkhaikyuu / @waywardtrashfam / @otaku-fangirlse / @juni-multifandom / @voids-universe / @chimsblogg / @1-800-imagine / @awkward-bard /

a/n: eight part, yay! y’all might’ve have noticed how bo’s chapter is longer than oikawa’s. and fluffier too. my explanation’s kinda long, so i just might do that when this series is over. but hey, if you get it then yay!

the song reader-chan and bo danced to should’ve been ‘Why Did It Have to Be Me?’ like in MM2, but the song I had in mind was ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)’ by Whitney Houston.

same warnings as before. this isn’t proof read. i’m sorry. point out any errors or confusing parts to me! my inbox is always open.

only 2 chapters left! i don’t want to say goodbye yet!

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robinasnyder · 4 years ago

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I caught up on the Fruits Basket Anime. Now please understand that I was obsessively buying the books as they came out when I was in high school (and reading online when things weren't caught up). It's the only Manga series where I own the full series in book form, and the only set of Manga I brought with me when I moved. I reread the series in 2019 a couple months before the anime came out. I have read this series many dozens of times. Tohru is still one of my favorite characters ever.

And I just have a few thoughts.

1. The new Anime is MILES ABOVE THE OLD ONE!

2. For the most part, if I disliked a change between Manga and anime, it was probably because there was a particular line I missed.

3. I think everything they added and changed to Ritsu's episode just made everything about that character better. I really feel like Ritsu and Mitsuru make sense from the hints we get. Mi-chan accepts Ritsu and wants to be friends and gets along with Ritsu so easily. This is one of the best changes in the show.

4. Uotani telling her back story always makes me cry. I always cry when she talks about the lights going out in the apartment window. I feel like the anime didn't follow through with that scene quite as much as I wished, but the anime showed how Kyoko and Tohru's apartment became a home for her. So when I cried at that scene in the anime, it was less because of Uo basically begging for Kyoko to come back, and instead because that very home was entirely broken and gone.

5. I've known Akito is awful for years, but man oh man, I like forgot just how bad it got! I love the character. I think Akito is super fascinating and I love her whole plotline. But she's vicious and brutal in the worst way. I know from the Manga that 1) her abuse is something awful, since Ren basically twists her all up and the people who could stop her (like the older servants) give her everything rather than treat her like the child she is, and 2) the series goes out of its way to show how none of the characters actually have to forgive her, that it's all about choices.

6. The anime really hammers home how awful Shigure is, starting early. I appreciate it.

7. Hearing Shigiraki and All Might argue because Shigiraki thinks his big brother All Might is too flighty is just so weird to me!

8. You can totally tell how much better of a VA Laura Bailey has become. I never liked her work in the original because it just sounded like Keiko from yyh too much. But now she sounds the way Tohru should sound..

9. It's very obvious how much Tohru and Kyo are flirting super early on because of the actual voice acting itself. So good!

10. Understanding that I watched 8 hours of FB yesterday and 12 hours today to watch the whole series, and was pretty much done by the time the last 5 episodes were playing, but I thought the pacing on the second seasom felt odd. This is a series I've read a lot, but season 2 seemed to drag in places, though I'm willing to say that may just be because I overloaded on it.

11. Kureno was such a non-entity to me in the manga but they did such a good job making me care about him. Despite the little amount of time Uo and Kureno spent together, their interest is clear. Also, she will be 18 by the time they actually get together. Also, also, I like age gap pairings where the younger one is actually the one with more experience.

12. In the manga, Mayu and Hatori are one of my favorite pairings. I loved them so much that even though I had created an OC to ship with him, I basically broke them up in my head because I couldn't stand Hatori not being with Mayu. I adored them so much and was so excited to see their episode. But then I saw it and it just felt... weird. Like their affection is more obvious when they talk about each other when they aren't in the room. I hate that this didn't work for me because I love them.

13. I never liked Kana, but I am actually more sympathetic to her now, especially seeing how wrecked she was when Mayu visited.

14. I really, really don't like Momiji's dad. The man is so selfish! At least with Momiji's mother, it's likely she had severe post partum depression. I didn't realize she'd tried to kill herselfm removing her memories was probably the only way to help her live. That being said, I like to imagine that Momiji's mother finds out what her husband allowed to happen (isolating Momiji and taking what he loved from him so the man could pretend to have the perfect family), that she divorces him, takes Momo away and tries to mend her relationship with Momiji.

15. I just love Tohru! I adore her so much.

16. The way the colored certain things different (or different than I imagined) is super weird to my brain!

17. While I was expecting some of the visual gags from the original anime, and from time to time miss some of them, I think not including them was for the best.

18. The part of Momiji's eye that should be the pupil is green and that's weird to me.

19. I found Momiji in the old anime very annoying to the point that I started to not like him in the manga. But I love him here so much. But I miss Momiji's song from the bathhouse episode. Also, the german accent is great!

20. They really gave Haru so much personality and I love it!

21. Seeing Yuki really loosen up is wonderful.

22. MACHI!!

23. I am very, very excited to get to see the end. It makes me so happy to know that a whole new generation of people are getting to see what an amazing series this is. It deserves all the love and the anime has been so beautiful! I am so grateful!

#fruits basket

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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years ago

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The Silvertongue and the Professor - Chapter 2

Author’s Note: Hello my internet buddies! Here’s the next installment of my Loki story. I was on vacation for a week, so it took me an extra little bit to put this up, but I think it’ll be worth it. Igna and Loki finally meet! Please let me know what you think. Your feedback is super helpful to me and gives me a chance to know if you all like where the story is going. Enjoy, friends!

Warnings: Maybe some language, definitely some violence

Chapter One Chapter Three

The God of Mischief looked up as he heard the door open and close. His eyes tracked the woman that entered. Well, this was different. The woman walked towards him; there was no fear in her eyes, no wariness. It looked as if she was almost...excited? She stopped in front of his cell, sizing him up. Loki did the same to her.

This woman was obviously mortal that he could be sure of. She had a petite build, with extremely pale skin; he thought she might even be as pale as he was. Her hair was, well, strange, to say the least. It was pink. He had never witnessed anyone of the Midgardian realm with pink hair before. He assumed that it must be some sort of enchantment to make it thus. Her hair was long, hitting just above her elbows in soft curls. That pale skin was covered in tattoos, all different, and yet all somehow seemed to meld together, turning her into a piece of living art. Her face was beautiful with her large deep grey eyes, the color of the sea before a raging storm. Those eyes were following his every move, taking in all he did. She had a button nose, plump lips, and high cheekbones. Her expression was serene yet intense. His eyes roved over the rest of her body, feminine curves encased in a grey professional dress, topped off with red heels that added about three inches to her petite frame. His eyes stopped midthigh; she was armed. He could at least see the slight shape of a gun, maybe a knife as well. My, my, he mused, this one is feisty. This should be at least mildly enjoyable. His eyes bored into hers, the vivid green meeting her stormy grey. He quirked a brow, waiting for her to begin.

“Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies,” the woman began.

Loki tilted his head as he listened to her words; she was speaking to him in Swedish, remarkably similar to his native tongue. She spoke like a native Swedish speaker, yet something was off. He couldn’t quite put words to it, maybe something in the accent, which confused him greatly. Perhaps she had learned it at a young age but was from elsewhere?

“Where are you from, mortal?” he queried with a sly smile.

“Sigtuna and Igna is fine; it’s a little more specific than calling me mortal,” the woman replied.

“Ah, Sigtuna, Sweden’s very first town from the last age of the Vikings, how fitting that they send you here to me. You speak like a native, but your accent is ever so slightly off. Where are you truly from?” he pressed.

“I was born and raised in Sigtuna, as I have said. I may sound different than the others, but I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been able to hear myself speak since I was five, or anyone else for that matter.”

The God of Mischief paused, he had heard rumors of such a thing, but it was a Midgardian ailment, not one of Asgard. He wondered what it was like, living in the silence. It occurred to him to ask, but he didn’t want to seem too interested in the woman standing before him. He would refrain from his line of questioning; there was a reason that she was here, after all.

“Interesting,” he murmured, studying her face. “Well, Igna, I suppose Fury has sent you here for some reason or another; best get on with it.”

Igna walked closer to him, stopping only a foot or so away, still watchful as ever.

“You let them catch you; you let them put you in this cage. It’s all too easy, far too easy. Three against one? Even with the enhanced strength of Captain America and the Ironman suit, you still could have easily won without breaking so much as a sweat. I’ve read about your kind, the Aesir; you possess far many more abilities than humanity. We used to worship you as gods, yet you are still flesh and blood as I see you standing here. Made of sturdier stock, of course, but still flesh and blood. I wonder why you let them take you, why you allowed them to throw you into a cage not designed for you. And I think you’re going to tell me.”

Mischief sparkled in his eyes as she talked. He was only killing time talking with her, staving off boredom until it was time for him to go.

“Clever girl, you see things that the others have missed. You do not underestimate me, and I wonder why. Did they send you from the lab to take a look at their newest experiment? Did they pluck you from an office to manipulate my mind? What good can you do here, mortal? At what do they think you can best me, Igna?” he hissed.

“I know more about you than anyone on this planet. I specialize in all things of the Aesir; I am a scholar that shares my knowledge with others. I do not simply see you, Silvertongue; I observe where others miss. There is a reason you chose to be here on this ship, and you are the reason that I chose to be here. As long as you are here, as I am I,” Igna replied.

“And what happens when I depart this ship, as you say I shall?”

“Then I will do everything in my power to find you once more. If you’re here, you’re up to no good. Not that I won’t be the first to admit your actions intrigue me. Have you come to rule humanity? To force us all on our knees?”

Loki smiled, almost like she was his prey, “Precisely, darling. I have come to give you the gift of subjugation. I will eliminate your needless wars, your manipulations of each other, your senseless slaughter in the name of freedom. I shall bring you all together, regardless of race, religion, or creed, and rule you. You, Doctor Andersson, will kneel before me, just as everyone else. Your mind isn’t too hard to skim, you know. I will admit that your mind is stronger than the others, but it can still be read.”

He smacked the glass close to her face, causing her to startle a bit.

“Oh, how I’ll enjoy seeing you kneel in front of me to watch you break and crumble. And once you’re broken, you shall come to me. You will come; you and I both know you will.”

“I think you may be mistaken; I have no desire to kneel, to submit, not to you, not to anyone. Enjoy the thought, though.”

A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest, oh how truly wrong she was.

“ Your defiance is amusing, my dear, but it’ll pass. In the end, there is no escaping me, you’ll see.”

Igna nodded, her eyes brightening as something flew into her mind.

“Well, I do believe I have all I need at present. I know who’s coming for you, and I know it’s soon. You’re simply wasting the clock with me. As such, I’ll be going now and see if we can’t modify and improve security around here. I’m sure Agent Barton will be here soon enough. Possibly with reinforcements too? Yes, I thought as much. It’s been a pleasure to encounter you in the flesh, truly.”

As she turned and began to walk away, a voice, an actual voice, something that she had not experienced since childhood, reverberated in her mind, filling her with icy foreboding.

“Do not fret, Igna Andersson; this will be far from our last encounter. You have my word.”

Loki watched her stop short as the words filled her mind. He saw the shiver run down her spine; he could practically feel her emotions coming off of her in waves. He would come for her; she was far too interesting to slip through his fingers. As she began to walk away, the ship shook. Igna grabbed onto the railing, attempting not to fall as the world moved around her. She turned back, catching the Prince’s eye, he smiled wickedly.

“Don’t worry, darling; I’ll be coming for you.”

The professor pulled herself forward, up the stairs, and out the door. She barreled into Steve, who caught her before she could bounce right off of him. He stooped down a bit, getting her eye contact.

“Ma’am, I’ve got to go suit up; something isn’t right here. I have to see where I can help. I don’t feel right leaving you here, though.”

She nodded, understanding his predicament.

“Captain, go, I’ll be fine; I know how to handle myself. I’ll make my way up and see where I can help, as well.”

Steve squeezed her arm gratefully before running off to do his part. Igna paused for a moment; she knew what her part was, for now. She kicked off her heels, abandoning them next to her purse; she needed to be fully able to run if necessary. Her gun came out of her holster, securely in her hands as she walked back into the room containing the god. She stood steady, careful of her step as everything shook. She looked around, scanning the area for any threats while she made her way down the stairs towards Loki. He was still in the cell, smiling delightedly, fully aware of the chaos and havoc that was happening around them.

She warily watched him; she knew someone would be here for him at any moment. Something moved in the corner of her eye, but before she could fully react, a hand shot out over her mouth, and a powerful arm snaked its way behind her arms, pulling her tight. The gun fell from her hands; the more she struggled, the harder the hold became. Fuck, she was trapped.

Loki smiled mischievously while he put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to hush. She watched as men clothed in SHIELD defensive armor made their way into the room. Her eyes widened as the God of Mischief duplicated himself, strolling out of the cage, leaving a part of himself still in there. Then it dawned on her whose ice-cold fingers were solidly clamped over her lips. It was the god himself, or at least a piece of the god. Fuck magic, fuck the spells he had woven so precisely to make all of this fall into place. This would not end well. She felt herself being backed into a corner, the world shimmering ever so slightly around her. It was transparent but felt different; there was clearly magic surrounding her. She could see out; everything was somewhat hazy, though she realized there was a distinct possibility that others were unable to see her.

Igna could do nothing but watch in horror as Thor was deceived by Loki’s apparition, effectively trapping him inside of the glass cell. Her horror overflowed as the scepter the Trickster wielded made its way through Agent Coulson, impaling him. She fought harder against her captor, utter despair rushing over her in waves as the man fell, blood making a steady stream down his mouth. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that he would not survive that wound. She was sure the scepter was woven with dark magic, dooming the one that was unfortunate enough to be at the receiving end of that weapon. Even as he gave his last hurrah by blowing Loki through the wall with that huge gun-like contraption, she knew it was the end. There were men littered around the floor, dead. Thor was blown out of the helicarrier in a prison not designed for him. Everywhere she looked, the professor saw death and destruction. Her legs began to buckle, but the presence behind her forced her to remain standing against her will.

Before she had a moment to register it, she was partially carried, partially dragged through the ship. Her bare feet repeatedly stumbled, leaving her to be dragged on her knees. She could feel the burning pain from each scrape as she was pulled along and then hoisted back up again. She kicked, bit, screamed, and struggled with everything in her, but it was no use. The god that had her in his clutches was far stronger than her mortal self. She was destined to lose this game before it had even started. As they reached the deck, Igna tried harder to fight back, struggling against his hold. He gripped her harder, those freezing hands digging into her skin. She turned with her shoulder, trying to regain some type of control, but it was as if Loki could see what she would do before she did it. He yanked her arm in the other direction, she could feel the shoulder dislocate, and her bones crack in half like a twig. She let out a scream of utter agony as the edges of her vision became fuzzy. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Tony Stark suited up with his mask off, looking in her direction in a complete panic as she lost consciousness and was hauled onto the waiting quinjet.

Let me know if you’d like me to add you to the tags list for this story!

Tags: @autumnleaves1991-blog @silverwolf319 @themarcusmoreno @moonlight-prose @flightlessangelwings @steeeeeeeviebb @maharani-radha-writes @ladyblogger-margie @the-purity-pen @cinewhore @recklessfangirl-blog @phoenixhalliwell @rae-gar-targaryen @justpedropascal

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x oc #loki x oc #loki x original female character #avengers #mcu #the god of mischief #justanotherblonde23 writes

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westernhoodrat · 4 years ago

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Meet Dani

The following is an excerpt from my first book that I recently self published on amazon. If you’re interested in science fiction, adventure, or just a good story? Give it a read, let me know what you think and consider checking out The Map: Book One of the Edwina Chronicles.

Chapter 4

August 4th, 3108 AA

Olympus, Gaea (Colonial Capitol City)

The warehouse was grubby, grease-coated and run down; piles of star ship parts sat idly all about it. The lights were dim and the air was stale with the scent of old oil and a haze of drifting dust. It was like a giant mouse nest, that had been patched together out of scrap metal and broken engines. In the middle of this vast stillness, something stirred, tussling through the dust, occasionally clanging parts together and hammering on metal. Beneath the layers of scrap and decay was a small blonde girl toiling away at a fighter engine, mumbling to herself. She wore a tattered old blue mechanic’s jumper and oil-soaked leather boots. Her fingers seemed held together by various bandages and bits of gauze and they were currently clinging tightly to a hammer and pair of pliers. She had a small, but lean face with a long nose and jawline. A pair of round brass colored goggles clung tightly over her bright blue eyes. Her hair was unkempt and long, the only thing holding the thicket in place was a pair of green welding goggles and a bit of wire tying it back into a ponytail. A small patch on the right breast of her jumpsuit read “Dani.”

Dani was arguably the best mechanic ever to be dishonorably discharged from the Colonial Corps, and she had worked her whole life to be so. Her father had been a mechanic, her father’s father before him and so on for almost eight generations. But unfortunately Dani had a fondness for making unorthodox modifications to regulation equipment; one such modification had literally blown up in her face. Now, she found herself stuck in an enormous warehouse on a dead planet, trying to piece together old ships and sell scrap just to get by.

“Be an ace mechanic Dani!” she muttered to herself, mocking the advice her father had given her years before. “It’s a great career oppawtunity!” she balked in her heavy Gaean accent. She angrily ratcheted a nut on to a bolt. “This war’ll never end! Don’t you worry love! You’ll always ’ave me!” She shook the parts in her hand. “Then the old geezer goes an’ dies!” She let out a heavy sigh, looking around at the enormity of the pile around her. She was a small speck in a sea of particles and shadow, trying to swim her way out. She rubbed her forehead vigorously “You’re alright Dani, deep breafs old girl, deep breafs.”

She had been just a girl of eight when the war started. Her father was arguably the best human mechanic in the galaxy at the time, so he joined up and for nearly eight years Dani and her father “lived off the fat,” as he used to call it. But when she turned sixteen it was her turn. She was at the top of her class in basic, outpacing her fellow students by light-years. It wasn’t fair really Dani had practically grown up inside an engine block. To her it was as comforting as her mother’s womb. She had advanced to deployment nine months ahead of schedule and at his request served in her father’s division. But her father never lived to see the Colonial victory. It turned out that stomach and lung cancer were the reward for all his hard work in the war effort and for the first time that she could remember, Dani was alone. She became angry and over time her skills were overshadowed by her grief. She began to experiment and modify things out of boredom and frustration. Then one day she’d managed to modify an engine on board a frigate without the proper authorization, it had exploded, almost killing all two hundred and eighty crew members on board. They discharged her, instead of sentencing her to a penal colony, leaving her to rot on the surface of the rotting corpse of Gaea.

It had been hard at first. When she’d stepped back on the surface from Gaea’s orbital blockade she didn’t understand what had happened to humanity. Before she had gone into orbit the planet was lush and green, but when she came back, all victory had won mankind was a homeworld that couldn’t give anymore in the way of resources. Gaea had been stripped and mined and farmed to the point of exhaustion. The soil was sterile, the water was poisoned and they lived in a constant, storming, dust-ridden wasteland. But the war had been won. The soil was sterile, the water was poisoned, and humans lived in a constant, dust-ridden wasteland. But the war had been won.

There had been more people on Gaea when she’d first stepped back on the ground. Some were just trying to get by and others were eating them alive, sometimes quite literally. Roving gangs of violent, broken men, back from the farthest reaches of the galaxy had taken what they learned in war and turned on the very people they’d been fighting for. The learning curve had been steep in the beginning, but over time she’d learned that it was survival of the fittest. She hadn’t killed anyone, she didn’t want to for that matter, but she had given a number of fellows a good clout on the head with a wrench when they came around trying to take her things, steal her water or worse, she never let them though, not once. After a while the gangs in her area figured out that they better not come around the old warehouse looking for trouble, because Dani could take care of herself. After she’d established those boundaries life got a little easier. She managed to sell what little scrap she could to folks looking to patch up homes and huts after the storms, she’d rewire engines to provide heat or cold as needed. But that didn’t stop her from thinking, dreaming, hoping that some day she’d get out.

Suddenly she heard a loud crash from the far side of the hangar.

“What the ’ell was that?” she whispered as she shot up and began looking around frantically. Another clank came from her left, echoing through the large building. She grabbed her large pipe wrench and went running in the direction of the noise. She slowed her pace as she came to a corner near the building’s entrance, pressing her back to the wall, raising the wrench to her chest and gripping it tightly.

No. she thought. Not again, her heart began to race as the thought of fighting off the gangs and robbers made her fear for her life, made her wonder if they had grown bold enough to attack her again, or worse, managed to find real weapons, guns and the like. It made her wonder if today was the day they’d get her.

She gently peeked around the corner to find a heavily armed man and what appeared to be a dog with a bomb strapped to its chest.

Robbers! she thought as she bit her lip. The man was glancing around the room as the dog seemed to almost mutter at him with a series of groans and whimpers.

“It’s alright Nugget, I think the computer was right, we just need to have a look round. Try to relax.” He turned and smiled at it before it barked back at him in response. His accent was different than how any of the thieves she know spoke. He sounded like the people in the High Command, the big-wig military types who were the only ones allowed out of the muck and mire on Gaea. They lived in a great black tower complex which was guarded like a fortress and had access to what few resources were left on the doomed planet. For a split second the pair unknowingly turned their backs to her.

Alright Dani girl, ’ere’s your chance, she thought, taking a deep breath and leaping out from behind the wall, flying at the man and swinging the pipe at his head.

Quickly and without warning the man turned around, reached out and caught the wrench with a thud, just before it reached his temple. “Oh hello!” he said with a devilish smile. He ripped the wrench from her hands and pushed Dani to the ground with his boot, dropping her weapon with a dust laden thud. Dani crashed flat on her back with her legs in the air. The force of her landing made her fuzzy as she tried to draw focus back to the pair. The dog was snarling, hackles up, poised to strike. The man looked down at her in delight.

“Who the ’ell are you?!?!” Dani shouted at them.

The man placed his hand on his chest. “I am Captain Ashley Odessa Cumberge and this is Nugget.” He gestured towards the dog, who was still snarling at her, its eyes nearly popping out of its skull. “Nugget?” She looked up at him. “Heel.” He smiled at her as she immediately relaxed and moved to a seated position. He stood up straight and extended his hand to help her up. “Sorry about that, but you were about to hit me in the head with a rather large wrench.” He grinned. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s just a little rude.” Dani eyed him skeptically until she took his hand, pulling herself up.

“What do you want gov?” She shrugged at him wiping her hands on her pant legs.

“Ah! Yes, well we are looking for a mechanic.” He pulled a small, blue handkerchief from his breast pocket and offered it to her.

“Well you’ve found one.” She grimaced at him, blowing her nose with his hanky.

“Indeed.” Ash nodded. Now it appeared it was his turn for skepticism. “But we are looking for a very specific mechanic. Specialist Daniel Colbert, so if you could perhaps point us in his direction it would be much appreciated,” he finished as she handed him back his hanky. Ash stared at it for a moment in minor disgust. “Please, call it a gift.”

“Thanks,” she replied, shoving it into her pocket. “Well that’s me mate,” she said, still dusting herself off, only half paying attention to him.

Ash paused for a moment and eyeing her with a frown. “You?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” She replied looking down at Nugget. “Hi doggy!” She smiled as Nugget began to wag her tail.

“Daniel?” Ash continued his eyes glancing around.

“Yeah,” she repeated, rolling her eyes. “My dad was brilliant wiv a wrench, but he couldn’t spell to save ’is life. So he wanted a Danielle, got a Daniel. But call me Dani.” She stuck her hand out to shake his. Ash shot her a fleeting, half-hearted smile before gingerly shaking hers.

“Specialist.” Despite the smile, his face went slack and his doubts about her identity floated in the air, as heavy as the dust between them.

“What’s wrong?” she scoffed at him.

“You’re a world class, ex-military mechanic?” He forced another smile as his brows drew together.

“Yeah why?” She sassily put her hands on her hips, cocking them to the right.

Ash eyed the thin, mousey girl, with the rats nest of hair on her head, long crooked nose and obnoxious demeanor. He seemed taken aback. In his experience all the top military mechanics were broad shouldered, square-chinned men and while a woman in the service wasn’t out of the ordinary, one had to be particularly well educated to work on star ships. A slight, young girl whose name wasn’t spelled correctly and who spoke in a manner consistent with that of the rabble who now inhabited what remained of Gaea didn’t seem right. Her mannerisms and appearance were slovenly and simply not in keeping with military standards.

“I apologize.” He said softly. “I believe I have made a mistake.” He turned to exit the building.

“Wait a minute!” she shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder, spinning him around and sticking her index finger in his face. “You can't just march in 'ere with this adorable little dog, ask me one stupid question an' expect to walk off without explainin' yourself!” She grabbed him by his collar. “Now what do you want fancy man?”

“My dear,” he let out a little laugh and a smile, raising his palms. “I need the best mechanic in the universe to maintain my ship. It is unlike any other that has ever traveled through space. Your name was at the top of the list when I looked through the Colonial database. But now that I’ve met you, I dare say they can’t be right. No offense.” he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling his collar out of her clutches.

“A mistake?” she said, raising both eyebrows and rocking back on her heels, crossing her arms. “Oh really? You don’t fink someone like me couldn’t be the best mechanic in the whole universe? Why? Because I’m a girl?” Dani was turning red, as she began to tap her foot.

Ash again raised his eyebrow and shrugged. “Well…,” he began to explain.

“Right well let me tell you somethin’ Cap’n Ashwin Odooly Cabbage!” she pointed her finger at him. “My father only ever taught me ‘ow to do one fing in ‘is world an’ at was ‘ow to take care of starships!” She threw her hands in the air, waving them at him. “My entire life people ’ave tried to tell me I am not who I say I am! But I swear on me father's grave an’ ’is father’s before ’im that there ain't an engine in the universe I can’t fix!” She pointed at him again as her eyes widened. “And if you fink that you can judge ’is book by its cover an' walk out without a piece of me mind you’ve got it all wrong!”

Ash stood in aghast, eyeing her for a moment. “Cumberge.” he said sharply.

“What?” she snapped at him.

“My name is Cumberge, Specialist.” He stood at attention. “What do you know about maintenance on a zero point energy engine?”

“I know ’em inside an’ out if yew really 'ave one? I heard they was too expensive to put on most military ships. Even so, we was trained at length on ’em. The principal construction is the same as a combustion, but it only works if you've got it paired wiv a jump drive an’ everyone knows they don't exist.” She calmed down as she spoke, her face turning back to the pale color it normally was, her attitude now shifting from one of anger to arrogance.

“Hmmmm…” Ash responded. “What if I told you we’ve got one?”

“Right! Now who’s tellin’ lies?” She laughed. “You’ve got a ship outfitted wiv a jump drive?” she asked skeptically.

“We do.” Ash smiled looking at Nugget.

“And I'm supposed to believe you because you’ve got all those guns an’ medals, eh?” She let out a laugh. “Besides you ain’t no captain anyway.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Look at that old bomber. Blue and gold ain’t the Colonial colors no more, everybody knows ‘at. They’re black an’ red now.” She turned up her lip in a sneer. “So tell me another one ‘captain’.”

“Oh yes, just as I am supposed to believe you are the best mechanic in the universe because you’re covered in dust and oil? If I’m not mistaken you’re wearing the same colors as I.”

“You’re damn right I am!” She pointed a finger at him before thumbing her chest. “An ’is is my father’s jumper you geezer so don’t you tell I’m wearing the wrong colors.”

A pause followed between them as the mood grew sullen. They eyed each other a while longer, each having just as much cause to mistrust the other. Ash looked down at Nugget, who whimpered at him. “Look I don’t know if you are who you say you are but if you can get my ship to work, I can offer you a place on board.”

“Oh yeah? What's in it for me?”

“Well I can’t promise much, nor can I guarantee your safety, but I can promise that it’s a damn sight better than this place.” He looked around at the piles of junk.

Dani paused then and thought about the years she had been there, how long it had been since she had worked aboard an actual star ship, how much she missed her father and how badly she wanted to redeem herself.

“What are you doin’ wiv the ship?” she questioned. After all, this fellow was awfully strange and seemed to appear out of no place; for all she knew it could be some sort of trap or ploy to get her out of the hangar, kill her and take her stuff, or sell her into slavery. But then she remembered that nobody had guns on Gaea, except the big wigs in the tower of course, especially ones like the one this fellow had.

Ash paused for a moment, seeming to choose his words with care. “That information my dear is on a need to know basis; however, in the very near future we are looking to acquire a very special map.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Does that suffice?”

Dani thought again for a brief moment. “Anything illegal?” she eyed him.

“Ah. Well there might be a bit of trouble involved, but nothing serious.” Ash replied looking down at his dog, who squeaked back.

Dani looked down at her dirty boots for a half second of hesitation then said. “Alright Captain. I’ll take a look at your ship, but no funny business?”

“I would never dream of it.”

“An’ first I 'ave one more question, before we go.”

“Yes?”

She pointed to Nugget. “Why do you ’ave explosives strapped to your dog?!?!” She shouted, her brow furrowing. “She’s a cute dog an’ you don’t see many of them runnin’ around now do ya?” Dani did have an affinity for cute things and this dog was the cutest thing she’d seen in years, even if it was ready to attack her.

Ash smiled. “She’s not a dog.“ He shook his head. “She’s a bomb.” He turned and began to walk away, Dani exchanged a look with the mutt who seemingly shrugged at her. “Come Nugget.” The dog followed him quickly as the two put distance between themselves and Dani.

“What?” Dani shouted, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose.

“Coming Specialist?” Ash called.

Dani looked around at the hangar one last time, with a sigh and then ran after them without the slightest notion of what was to come next.

#scifi #self publishing #fiction #write #first book #writerscorner

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bunnyinthestars · 5 years ago

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Why we should have known Alix’s importance as essentially the in-show keeper of the Love Square the second we first saw her, and how we can use her character design to predict what will happen for the Love Square

*an analysis/exploration of her character design*

WARNING: spoilers for a couple season 3 episodes, including Desperada, Ikari Gozen, and Miracle Queen. Honestly, if you haven’t watched any of those episodes yet, I highly recommend them, they’re really good

Ok so, today, as I was drawing Alix and therefore thinking about her appearance, I realized that basically her entire physical character design has elements of the Love Square to it. I searched tumblr trying to find someone who posted about this but I couldn’t, so here we go bois. Sorry if I missed anyone’s post about this, I’m still kinda new to tumblr and I’m just trying to share my thoughts with the fandom!

There are gonna be three elements of her design I talk about: her hairstyle, her coloring, and the details on her clothing.

First off, I would like to start with her hairstyle.

Her hairstyle is iconic for its uniqueness— pretty wild, short, with a pigtail on one side and loose hair on the other. BUT GUYS. HER HAIR IS LITERALLY HALF LADYBUG’S, HALF CHAT NOIR’S.

Let me explain—

If you look at the images above, you can see precisely what I mean.

On the left side of Alix’s face (when we, the audience, look at her, not her own left), we can see Alix’s bangs are parted exactly the way Marinette/LB’s bangs are, plus she has Mari’s pigtail. On the right half, we can see the middle piece of Chat Noir’s bangs that is pointed toward/in his face, plus the rest of his hair that alternatively points outward (sorry if that wording was confusing, there’s a reason i’m not a writer, it’s easier to see in the photos). ALIX’S HAIRSTYLE ALONE IS QUITE LITERALLY HALF LADYBUG AND HALF CHAT NOIR. I AM NOT OK.

Alright. Ok. As if that alone hasn’t made me lose my mind, there’s more. Before we get into her outfit, I want to just quickly address Alix’s coloring itself.

Alix has pink hair and blue eyes, and her clothes are black, green, pink, and red.

The pink hair and blue eyes can easily be attributed to Marinette/Ladybug, since Marinette’s clothes and room are majorly pink, her transformation sequence and powers all have pink backgrounds, and pink is a variation of red, which is Ladybug’s main color. Marinette also has blue eyes (and blue hair, but I don’t know if it’s blue in-universe or black).

On the other hand, the black and green on Alix’s shirt can be attributed, of course, to Chat Noir, who’s entire color scheme is black with accents of lime green. Adrien also shows hints of these colors in his design, but that’s a completely different subject.

For the rest of her look, Alix’s shorts are almost all black, except for the red decal on the back pockets, and her socks and shoes are a mix of Mari/LB’s and Adrien/CN’s colors.

To sum it up, from head to toes we have Mari on Alix’s head, Adrien on her upper torso, and a mix of the two from the lower torso down. It is worth noting that the reasons Mari’s colors are Alix’s head and Adrien’s colors are on Alix’s shirt is that, throughout the series, it is established that Mari is associated with using her head, and Adrien is associated with preferring his heart. (This has been explocitly referenced in episodes like Lady Wifi (s1) and Ladybug (s3).) Therefore, Mari’s coloring being on Alix’s head—which is what Mari is associated with—and Adrien’s coloring on her shirt being closest to her heart—which he is associated with—makes total sense.

Ok ok ok. This is the last point I have to make, but also kinda the most complicated to explain, so bear with me here.

(sorry i keep using this same photo, it just shows a lot of what i’m trying to show you guys and i’m to lazy to find another photo hehe)

In the photo on the left, if you look by her wrist, you can see a snake head, and you can see the shape of the snake body trailing around her arms. The scale print even further adds to this.

So a snake. The immediate thing that comes to mind is the snake miraculous. If you’ll remember the episode Desperada (s3), the snake miraculous was originally given to Adrien, who transformed into Aspik, but then Adrien learned that he was unsuccessful as Aspik because he couldnt be Chat Noir at the same time, and his role as Chat Noir was essential to the success of the team, so Luka became the next (and way more successful) holder of the snake miraculous, Viperion. The other relevance of the snake miraculous was in Miracle Queen (s3 finale), when Chat Noir merged the black cat miraculous and snake miraculous (Snake Noir). The colors of the snake are also the same colors of Chat Noir, but black is Chat Noir’s more primary color while green is the snake’s more primary color.

(side note: When Luka holds the miraculous, the tones of the green color shift from a lime green to a more blue-green, which shows his individuality/difference from Adrien being expressed in the miraculous, similarly to how Ryuko’s coloring is more of an orange-toned red than Marinette’s as Ladybug/Dragonbug. This isn’t quite important to this analysis, I just thought it was interesting, whoops!)

For the photo on the right, I know the photo isn’t very clear, but I just couldn’t quite find a clear photo of the red snake decal on the back pockets of Alix’s shorts. For context, in the Chinese zodiac (where the second level of the miraculous originate), dragons don’t have wings (the wings thing came from western culture), and so they look similarly to the shape of a snake because they are long, thin, flexible, and have scales. Therefore, it’s reasonable to assume that this snake-like outline in red on the pockets of Alix’s shorts could also be meant to resemble a dragon. This makes a ton of sense when we consider how the snake and the dragon are pictured together in the show, and the colors typically associated with either.

The dragon’s relevance is presented in a similar manner to the snake’s, only Marinette doesn’t try to use the dragon (excluding Kwami Buster) until Miracle Queen, when she becomes Dragonbug (and Chat Noir becomes Snake Noir). Kagami, however, is meant to be Marinette’s “rival” for being Adrien’s love interest, and Kagami is the one who ends up getting the dragon miraculous and transforming into Ryuko for the first time in Ikari Gozen (s3).

Luka is meant to be a altered reflection of Adrien, and Kagami is meant to be an altered reflection of Marinette. This is why the miraculouses that Luka and Kagami are given are also the same ones Marinette and Adrien unify in Miracle Queen, and why the color schemes are the way they are. Their roles in terms of the writing of the show are only meant to be a psyche-out Adrinette for both Mari and Adrien. The balance is almost there, but not quite. This can be seen in their own character designs, but again, that’s a whole other thing. Their roles in the show, though, are essential to bring Adrinette together. In Miracle Queen, Luka and Marinette are established as an item, and Kagami and Adrien are established as an item. In the same episode, Dragonbug and Snake Noir themselves even foreshadows the separation of Luka & Adrien and Marinette & Kagami being unified into just Adrien and just Marinette themselves. A better way of saying that is that the qualities Mari likes about Luka will become things either Adrien grows into or that she’ll find in him, and the same thing with Kagami and Marinette for Adrien, which will lead to them becoming a couple. This is why they’re included in Alix’s design, if we can agree that Alix’s design is meant to represent their journey into becoming a couple.

Man, am I tired from finding the words to explain that. Hopefully it makes sense!!

So, to summarize everything, not only do Alix’s hair and general coloring have direct traces of LB and CN, but also the snake and the dragon, who can be represented by both Adrien & Luka (snake) and Marinette & Kagami (dragon), and can be used to determine that Luka and Kagami’s roles in the show hold the key to the Love Square becoming canon.

So. Yes. Alix’s design, once I realized all this, has been driving me crazy. I MEAN SERIOUSLY. She is a literal human representation of the Love Square.

#alix kubdel #ml alix #the love square #love square #throwback to 2016 when the love square was also called the lucky charm #is it still called that?? i havent seen that at all #you know what ill just tag it anyway whatever lets be obscure #lucky charm #and yes ive been in the fandom that long even though im new to having a tumblr account no i do not know how its been so long #adrienette #adrinette #lukagami #alix kubdel theory #alix kubdel analysis #miraculous: tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug analysis #miraculous ladybug theory #alix character design #alix kubdel character design #snake noir #dragonbug #wait shit is dragonbug two words or one #dragon bug #miracle queen #ml ryuko #viperion #miracle queen theory #analysis #im sorry im new to tumblr and sorry if the new to tumblr thing is a stereotype im just not good at existing

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peachdoxie · 4 years ago

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Okay so I’m like way late in sharing my liveblog of chapter 13, but I read it earlier and took notes and here they are! Man, what a doozy of a chapter! I have a lot of things to say.

Conjoined fabrials require a careful division of the gemstone—and the spren inside.

Like we knew this already but hearing about it directly is like. Yikes.

Other types of spren do not split as evenly, as easily, or at all.

Gimme the lore, Branderson

Shallan had to deal with Veil’s alcohol abuse. Again.

Yikes

He was using that time to go ride horses.

The paranoid part of me thinks something else is going on, but also Adolin is still allowed to have interests, especially if he’s grown closer with Dalinar’s Ryshadium after losing Sureblood in Words of Radiance, as the chapter later describes.

Shallan found herself alone—and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t have a role to play.

Inchresting.

The deal is set and arranged. The spren will come.

wat

Seven years ago now—and if that timeline was correct, she must have begun seeing Pattern as a young child. Long before Jasnah had first encountered her spren.

I feel like this is important but idk why. It sort of implies that the Cryptics were the first spren to start forming Nahel bonds in the current era, but, again, why? What are the implications?

She couldn’t see those memories; didn’t want to see them. As she shied away from them, something dark shifted inside her, growing stronger. Formless. Shallan didn’t want to be the person who had done those things. That… that person could not… not be loved…

Oof but also not true

Memory loss was apparently common to these cases, but the rest of what Shallan experienced seemed distinctly different. Importantly, she wasn’t experiencing continued memory loss. So maybe she was fine. She’d stabilized.

I have the feeling Shallan does, in fact, have some significant memory losses that she’s either unaware of or so in denial about she doesn’t realize she’s in denial of them.

Besides, these fabrials did the work of a dozen people.

lmao Roshar is undergoing industrialization which is probably a bad thing

When she became Veil, the colors in the room… muted. The colors didn’t change, but her perception shifted.

Neat detail. I wonder how that would interact with the various Heightenings of Nalthis.

His pet chicken, the green one.

IT’S BIRB TIME!!!!!

“Of course, with your powers nothing is permanent, is it? You deal exclusively in the ephemeral.”

That’s kind of a recurring issue in Shallan’s life, isn’t it, the lack of permanence?

His chicken held its prey with one foot, eating almost like a person did with their hands. The thing was so strange, so alien. It stood upright, like no other beast Shallan had studied. When it chirped at Mraize, it sounded almost like it was talking, and she swore she could occasionally make out words. It was like a tiny parody of a person.

Lmao “alien.” Shallan, you have no idea how right you are. Also, I’m going to guess the bird may actually be talking to Mraize since it’s a fucking aviar

Ask a better question. “Nalathis,” Radiant said. “Scadarial. What are they?”

“Nalthis. Scadrial.” He spoke the words with a different accent. “Where are they. That’s an excellent question, Radiant. Suffice it to say they are places in Shadesmar where our Stormlight—so easily captured and transported—would be a valuable commodity.”

Okay sure just fucking namedrop the other planets in the cosmere again why don’t you

A more perfect gemstone could contain the Light long enough to go offworld, but there is still the Connection problem. This little flaw has caused untold trouble. And the one who unlocks the secret would have untold power.

dear fucking hell, Mraize.

tbh I don’t even know how to react to this revelation. It’s so simple and yet so ambitious, and it would have significant impacts not just on Roshar, but on the whole of the cosmere. Not to mention: Investiture on Roshar is renewable because when it’s used, it returns to the Spiritual Realm until it’s brought back into the Physical by highstorms or a perpendicularity. What would happen if Mraize found a way to take Honor’s Investiture and have it be used somewhere else in the cosmere outside of the Rosharan system? Would that unbalance the Shards even more?

just an absolute what the fuck. there are so many unknown Realmatic ramifications for this. what the fuck.

“I already have,” Mraize said, making a fist. “Though putting the plan into motion will be difficult. I have a job for you.”

Great, Mraize already knows how to do this incredibly ridiculous Realmatic bullshit. This is going to be bad if he gets it up and running, even if Mraize himself isn’t “evil.” It would radically change everything, and there are many bad people who would abuse that change.

“I have news for you,” Shallan said. “Sja-anat contacted me while I was away. She agreed to your terms, and is sending one of her spren to the tower, where it will investigate your members for a possible bond.”

Ah, so this is who Shallan was communicating with earlier. But how did Sja-anat use a spanreed? And what kind of spren will she send, and how has it been corrupted?

Also, Shallan and Mraize at least know that Glys was corrupted by Sja-anat. I wonder who else holds this knowledge.

“I cannot betray this secret,” Mraize said. “Let’s just say that Lightweavers fascinate me, and leave it at that. And you should not fear if I did keep someone close to you. Such a person could be an… aid in times of need. Iyatil did the same for me.”

*tosses another piece of evidence onto the theory I saw someone make that Shallan, in a very repressed persona, is actually Mraize’s spy*

“Immortality, in part. He thought he could become like the Heralds. In his quest, he discovered a secret. He had Voidlight before the Everstorm—he carried it from Braize, the place you call Damnation. He was testing the movement of Light between worlds. And one close to him might have answers. At any rate, we couldn’t risk Ialai or the Sons of Honor recovering these secrets.”

I honestly don’t know what to make of this but it seems important so

“Oh, we know where he is,” Mraize said. “He has asked for—and been granted—asylum in a city no other Ghostblood has been able to enter.”

“A place you can’t enter?” Shallan asked. “Where is security that tight?”

“The fortress named Lasting Integrity,” Mraize said. “Home and capital city of the honorspren in Shadesmar.”

OH SURE BRANDON, JUST DROP ANOTHER FUCKING BOMBSHELL IN THIS CHAPTER, I CAN DEFINITELY HANDLE IT

at least my question of “why the fuck is SHALLAN going to Lasting Integrity” is answered

“Oh, you will. And once you successfully return from this mission, your reward will be—as always—something for which you hunger. Answers. All of them.”

So like, first of all I’m skeptical that Shallan will actually succeed, so that’s one thing. And second, what’s to say that Brando will just have Shallan learn things off the page and we don’t know the answers? Either way, I eagerly await how this plot line will play out. Whatever’s gonna happen, it’s gonna involve some hella cosmere Lore.

Mraize had never been willing to speak of that, but she had to think they’d been grooming her—and her family—for over a decade.

He knew the truth about Shallan’s past. There were holes in her childhood memories. If they did what he asked, Mraize would fill them.

And maybe then, at long last, Veil could force Shallan to become complete.

The word “grooming” stands out to me here. What, exactly, were they grooming her for?

***

Anyway. Wow. What a fucking chapter. So little action, and yet so much just changed. Rhythm of War is taking on a very different look now that there’s Lore at stake.

#stormlight archive #stormlight spoilers #rhythm of war #anecdotes by peachdoxie #peachdoxie liveblogs stormlight

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ironcaptainnataliabarnes · 5 years ago

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Red Roses (A Harry Hook x Reader/OC)

A/N: I am so glad there are people reading and enjoying this! As long as there's someone out there who wants more of this story, I'm here to happily comply. Please let me know if there are any errors and I will fix them. I will try to update as much as possible, phew story writing is hard guys lmao. Thank you all again and I hope you stay for this journey!

Summary: Ruby Hearts, daughter of the infamous Queen of Hearts, was abandoned by her mother when she was young and forced to live with her father, the King of Hearts, in Auradon. Harry Hook himself may be the only one who finds her madness enchanting. Will Ruby find her self falling for the rugged pirate, or will the roses bleed red?

Prologue / Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole / Chapter 2

Ruby's paintbrush glided over the wallpaper, leaving red strokes in its path. A small music system played softly in the background. Even after already attending Auradon Prep for a year, her room always needed something to hide the pretty-pink-princess-ness of it underneath, and merely changing the horrendously colored bed covers were not enough. She had taken to painting over the single colored wallpaper, her first time being a large pocket-watch with elaborate patterns that no one else ever heard tick-tocking the days away.

Prince Ben himself had given Ruby the paints after having noticed her in Art 101; the mindless mutterings and frantic look in her eyes seemed to fade when a paintbrush was in her hand. She was thankful for him showing up to her dorm room that day, bottles upon bottles of paint in haul, a kind smile on his face.

However, nothing ever fully quenched the illusions she had. Some days the walls were frozen, so close to shattering, others she was drowning in red, red blood. Of course, there were good days as well: being outfitted by Evie, playing catch with Dude and Carlos, watching Mal trip over her own two feet.

The tiny King of Hearts, Ruby's father, had decided to send her to Auradon the same time the VK's arrived. He assumed that the terrible villain kids would mask the aura of 'mad' surrounding his daughter just by being from the Isle themselves. It had worked, for a time. While Jay and Carlos were kind enough to her, Evie took Ruby under her wing, making sure she was always included. Mal was a different story though; Ruby had no idea why, but one of the voices in her head told her that the daughter of Maleficent was the wrong sort for her.

Fitting in became the wrong choice halfway through her first year; no one wanted to share a dorm with the 'crazy girl'. No one dared bother her while she was attending the roses in Auradon Prep's garden in fear of having their heads offed. No one even deemed her worthy of a friend, seeing her crazy ramblings as a sort of disease, even thought most times she was perfectly sane at having conversation.

But now was the beginning of a new year, things will be different she mused to herself as she dipped her paintbrush back into the blood red paint. She hummed to herself as she did so, completely blissful in the peace of the dorm, trying oh-so hard to not remember the memories that haunted her everyday. To not realize how this red paint almost matched perfectly with the blood that dripped onto a dead lawn all those years ago.

Ruby's focus was dropped by her door suddenly slamming open and she hissed in anger when her paintbrush slipped from its course. Her hand found a pen that was among her art materials around her, and promptly turned and flung it towards the open door. She missed of course, she always does, as could be told from the multiple shallow holes in the wall near her dorm room door.

"Whoa! Calm down there, Red!" Jay exclaimed from her doorway, Carlos was there with him and he seemed unfazed as he pulled the pen out of the wall and tossed it back to Ruby.

She caught it and placed it on the floor before grabbing her small towel to dab off the smear of imperfection before it dried forever on her wall.

"Thank you for ruining my lovely painting. If paintings could cry, this one would be because you nearly destroyed it," she huffed at the boys, who still stood out of breath in her doorway.

"You're supposed to be with us and the Welcome Committee, Ruby. The new VK's are showing up today," Carlos reminded her, matter of factually.

She cursed under her breath. She totally forgot about the new kids arriving today. I wonder, are their heads too big? Or perhaps too small? What a shame if they don't have heads at all. Ruby shook her head, clearing the voices as she stood and brushed off her outfit, a simple thigh-length black dress matched with heart stockings, and stumbled to put on a pair of red heels.

"Right, yes, the new VK's. Welcoming to the committee...erm, I wasn't supposed to do anything, was I?" She asked while trying to make her hair look somewhat decent. Even though it was lovely, the tips of her deep black hair being a rosy red, it was a mess nearly everyday of the week.

"Nope, just show up and smile," Jay quipped at her as she closed the door, viewing the bleeding rose on her wall one last time before hurrying with the two boys outside.

The trio made it too the entrance of the school right as a black limousine pulled up. The boys led Ruby to where Evie was standing before running to find other friends.

"Hey, Ruby," Evie greeted her, ever present smile on her face.

"Hey, Evie," Ruby responded, cautiously looking around to see if her somewhat dunce of a father came to see the new kids.

Evie looked at the girl and gestured to her face. "You've got a bit of paint there," the blue haired girl said, just as the doors to the limo opened.

"Oh, um...thanks," Ruby replied and used the back of her hand to wipe the paint away, only to succeed in smearing it over her cheek.

"Welcome to Auradon!" Fairy Godmother's voice carried over the cheering crowd, effectively ending the fanfare as well. "Allow me to introduce you to King Ben and his girlfriend Mal!"

Ruby glanced and caught sight of said couple, glaring when she noticed Mal looking at her. Too small head. No hat would ever fit her, one of the voices in Ruby's head commented. She shook out her thoughts and gasped in surprise when Evie pulled her forward. She missed nearly the entire conversation that was happening and had zero idea why Evie decided to announce her presence.

"Fairy Godmother," Evie said to the overly cheerful woman, "Even though I would absolutely adore showing our newest guests around, I think it would be an even BETTER idea to let Ruby do it!" She exclaimed, nearly bouncing with happiness at her grand scheme.

"What- no, Evie it's fine I gotta-" Before Ruby could finish her sentence Fairy Godmother cut her off.

"OH what a wonderful idea!! Ruby, these are our new students, Uma, Gil, and Harry! I do hope you all make great friends! Now, if you'll excuse us, class is waiting! The doors of wisdom are never shut!"

And with that Fairy Godmother gestured for everyone back to the school, but of course Audrey would never leave without having a few words first. As the brunette passed by Ruby she sneered "Of course, let the mad girl give the villains a tour, what a perfect match!"

Ruby paid her no mind, instead wondering what it would be like if she offed with her-

Ben gave Ruby a pat on the shoulder, silencing her vicious thoughts and gave her a good luck smile before walking with Mal back into the school. Ruby huffed and prepared herself and turned around to greet her newest friends.

She stared for only a second, muttering under her breath about their seemingly normal sized heads before she gave a smile and spread out her arms.

"Well, welcome to Boradon, where the princes are far from charming and the only color the people know of is 'pretty princess pink.'"

A dark skinned girl with light blue hair snorted at Ruby's introduction, while the boys laughed, giving a nod to the girl. "Amazing, someone who lives here who hates this place as much as we do. I'm Uma, daughter of Ursula," she gave her hand out for a shake (which Ruby accepted) and gestured to the two boys next to her. "This is Gil, and Harry."

Ruby smiled at the two boys, some forlorn memory tugging at the back of her mind, telling her she knew this girl, her thoughts turning at the name 'Harry'.

Harry's eyes raked over her before taking a few steps towards her, "Well well well," he said, his accent pulling memories out from Ruby's head. "It seems ye may have made a bit of a mess, lass," he said, licking his thumb and wiping off the smeared paint from Ruby's cheek. One of her eyebrows raised in question, though she definitely felt the heat rising to her face.

"Um..."

Uma rolled her eyes and gave a smack to the back of Harry's head, earning a shout of protest from the boy. Still, Ruby couldn't help but feel she stared into those same blue eyes before...

"Let's get this tour thing started!" Gil exclaimed, oblivious to the somewhat awkward/intimate moment

"Right, uh, this way," Ruby once again shook away her confusion, ignoring the way the sun reflected off her red heels and making it seem as though they were bleeding. She turned and led them into the school.

"Now, normally I'd have to tell you the history of our esteemed school, but honestly it's just of bunch of nonsense. Some king went 'wow I would be super cool if I made a school for royalty' and so he did a got a commemorative statue because of it." Ruby talked as she led the group into the main foyer.

"Sounds about right," Uma commented, spinning in a slow circle as she took in the school.

"Woah!" Ruby turned and saw Gil gently petting a potted plant, "What is this? It's so green!"

"That's, uh, that's a plant," Ruby answered him, slightly amused by his reaction to said plant. "There's a whole garden out the back way. It's a lot more interesting than showing you the useless classrooms in here."

Uma and Harry didn't get a chance to respond as Gil took off, a smile on his face. Ruby stayed where she was and called out to him, "Wrong way!"

Once outside, Gil ran off into the bushes of flowers, Harry running to catch up to the boy. Uma stayed behind, walking the pathway with Ruby.

"I never got to thank you," the dark-skinned girl spoke.

"Thank...me?" Ruby questioned, before her mind flooded with memories of a small crying girl that she never got to console. "Oh, um."

Uma looked at her, her face sincere, "No really, thank you. No one ever...No one's ever tried to be there for me when I'm not feeling myself. And that day was, uh, particularly bad," she confessed.

"Oh...well, you're welcome. I never...had friends when I was little, and I just wanted to be nice I guess. The flowers never wanted me to have friends, they were not so nice," Ruby told her.

"Right," Uma nodded, slightly confused but thankful nonetheless. "I'm glad to see you out of that hellhole, too. I mean, the Isle was bad but your mother..I can't even imagine."

Ruby let her fingers dance across the daisy's as the two girls walked. She tried to not dwell on memories of the past, of that house, that woman. "Thanks. Things are better here, I guess. The walls may freeze, and the momwraths outgrabe, but if you know where you're going then it doesn't really matter at all."

Uma was spared a response when the two caught up with Harry and Gil, ironically where the rosebushes were. Ruby's body froze when she noticed Harry gripping a rose, almost as if he were about to pluck it off the bush.

"Don't!" She yelled, running and pushing the pirate away from her beloved roses. After checking the rose was okay, she turned to Harry, her finger pointing at him in accusation. "Don't you make the roses angry, you make them angry and broken and then they bicker nonstop and I'm the only one that has to deal with it."

"Whoa there, lass, 's just a wee flower,"Harry's hands went up into the air with a slight smirk on his face, one hand gripping a metal hook. A hook, how had Ruby not noticed it before. Her eyes widened at the glinting metal, the face of a younger boy clouding her mind.

"Just, don't touch my roses," She glared at him once more, Uma giving him an 'I told you so' look, before turning and leading them away from the gardens and to the tourney field.

The team was outside at practice when the small group arrived, and Ruby noticed Jay and Carlos waving to get her attention. The two boys ran to her, smelling like wet dog yet smiling like idiots.

"Hey, Red," They both greeted, out of breath.

Harry behind her scoffed. "This it? Tourney is a wee lad's game, with their little pointy sticks."

"That's because their lads are a bit wee," Ruby responded, smiling at Harry.

A weird look was shared among the others when suddenly Gil freaked out. He bent down as Dude strolled up, patting the dog happily. "What is this!!!!"

Jay and Carlos chuckled. "That's Dude, my dog," Carlos said.

"Wow," Gil said, amazed. "Dogs are cool."

"Wait 'till you see a zoo," Jay told him.

"A zoo?"

"Okay," Uma cut in, "As much as I enjoy..." she gestured to the group, "I think I'd like a bed a hell of a lot more."

"Right, well, we gotta get back to practice," Carlos nodded, running back to the team.

"See ya around," Jay said to Ruby (but mostly to Gil) as he followed suit.

"Back inside we go then," Ruby announced and led the trio indoors.

"Funny thing is," she said as they made it to the dorm quarters. "No one tells me a thing, so I have zero idea where your rooms are."

"'S alright," Harry answered, seemingly trying to break into one of the rooms. "We'll just pillage some for our own selves," his eyes glinted mischievously.

"That won't be necessary."

The four turned towards the voice, and Ruby was relieved to see it was only Ben.

"We already have rooms chosen out for you," he said, smiling and giving a quick wink to Ruby. "This way."

The group followed, and Ruby almost missed the way Harry's eyes glared into the back of Ben's head. Ben stopped right in front of Ruby's dorm, and opened a door right across from hers. "This will be for Harry and Gil," he stated, "And Uma, you're the next door down the hall. As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I've got a meeting to attend. It was nice to meet you all."

And with that he turned and marched back down from where they had came, leaving Ruby speechless and dumbfounded.

"Well, see ya, girl. I'm going take a well deserved nap," Uma said, smiling at Ruby before walking to her room.

Ruby opened the door to her room as Harry and Gil turned into their own. She quite literally kicked off her heels and walked to where she painting earlier that day. She let her hands gently glide over the bleeding rose, checking the paints dryness. She missed Harry sneaking in behind her, leaning on the door frame.

"Ye paint," he stated abruptly, making Ruby jump and spin towards the voice, wishing she had a pen to throw.

"Thank you, captain obvious. I do paint, what about it?" she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He tutted her, shaking his finger as he stepped closer to her. "Uma's the cap'n, lass. I'm 'er first mate. And, ye paint well."

Ruby became flustered and uncrossed her arms to scratch the back of her head. "Um, thanks." She suddenly pointed to the pocket watch painting, "Do you hear it, too?"

Instead of answering, Harry's hand whipped out and grabbed onto Ruby's wrist, causing her to stumble closer to him. The tip of his hook gently ran over the line of her scar, the one she tried every day to ignore.

"I know ye," he whispered, blue eyes boring into her own.

"I know you too," she whispered back, visions of the unspoken day prodding her brain

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a knock at Ruby's open door made the two jump away from each other.

"Hey!" It was Evie, eyes sparkling with another scheme. "I'm throwing a dinner party for our newest VK's. Ruby, you're invited too, of course!" She exclaimed.

Harry and Ruby went into the hallway where Gil and Uma were already waiting. Uma gave a questioning look to the two. Harry's eyes cleared, his regular mischievous demeanor returning.

"Finally, food! I am famished!" he announced.

Gil bounced on his heels. "Is it like a food party? I've never been to a party. And with food! This place is amazing!"

Uma rolled her eyes at the boys and Ruby let out a small giggle.

"This way!" Evie said, guiding the group down the hall. They met up with Mal and Ben, Jay and Carlos, as well as Doug and Jane. Ruby couldn't help but feel that this was going to be a very uncomfortable tea party.

#harry hook x reader #harry hook #harry hook lemon #harry hook x reader lemon #harry hook smut #harry hook x reader smut #harry hook x oc #harry hook descendants

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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

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Dr. Mordenheim’s Travels, Book 1: De Writer’s Equestria, Ch. 2

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

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Dr. Mordenheim’s Travels, Book 1: De Writer’s Equestria, Ch. 2

@mordenheim

1785 words

Writing begun 04/11/19

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Dr. Victor Mordenheim has traveled to many different realities in his many centuries of existence. This series, which I shall add to from time to time, will explore some of them, beginning with the world of @ask-de-writer.

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

NEW TO THIS STORY? READ FROM PART 1 which is HERE

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

An almost painfully purple colored unicorn sat his narrow rump in front of the Ponyville Day Spa. He ran a grubby hoof through his greasy-looking slicked back green mane as he puffed out his chest with pride. A white ribbon was around his neck, holding a silver medallion, a symbol of the Celestian Church. Pokeweed had decided to take it upon himself to guard this fine business and make sure that no undesirables make their way inside.

It was just a few moments before he saw the bedraggled looking zebra making its way down the road towards him. Getting a self-righteous smirk on his face he held up a hoof towards the creature and shouted out, “Lesser creatures got no business here. Jes’ move along.”

After a moment, Pokeweed realized he may have made a mistake in more ways than one. First of all, he had misjudged how far down the road the zebra had been when he called out. The second was assuming that he was dealing with a normal black and white heretic like the poison-selling witches he had been told so much about. As the striped intruder got closer, the violet stallion realized he might have bit off more than he could chew. In seconds, he was staring slightly up towards a nasty-looking x-shaped scar on the front of the zebra’s chest.

Victor slowly lowered his head down, his single ice-blue eye seeming to bore right into the violently violet unicorn’s soul. His voice was a deep base rumble as he asked, “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Pokeweed, who was a fairly recent inductee into the church must have still had a few scruples left as he simply swallowed hard, mumbled, “N-no sir…” and backed out of the way before trotting down the road, quickly!

The big zebra sighed. Things had started out so well this morning. Ah well, he thought, no point in letting just one mishap get to him. Lowering his head, he ducked through the doorway and trotted inside.

Behind the counter sat a pale blue mare with a pink mane, a small brass plaque in front of her showing her name as Lotus Blossom. She quickly sat up, taking notice as Victor made his way through the door. Her voice was heavily accented, rolling her r’s as she spoke, “Oh my, you are a beeg one, aren’t you? Well, we gladly serve all kinds here, please, just sign the register and we can get started.”

He blinked again, once more pleasantly surprised by the hospitality he was being shown. Taking a quill gently in his teeth, he signed his name into the thick book. He was so confused by the situation that he nearly forgot what he had been told at breakfast time. Keeping his voice soft and low, he murmured, “Caramel Treat sent me.”

“Oh! Wonderful, wonderful, let’s see here…” She glanced at the book and smiled, “Veector, now that is an interesting name. Well, come with me, please. I think we should get you started with a nice, long soak and do something about that mane and tail. You look like you’ve been lost in the forest for days!”

Victor found himself being whisked from room to room, being scrubbed to a shining white with fragrant shampoos. His mane was cleaned and brushed, leaving it long, luxuriant and shining, it’s deep red color offset by it’s gleam. In what seemed like mere minutes, he found himself deposited face-down on a table that was surprisingly not too small for him, his face resting through a hole, looking down at the floor. Everything was soft and comfortably padded and he felt himself drifting off until he heard voices from the next room.

“Alright, Snowflake. Veektor ees a new customer, and I want you to be sure to get every last knot worked out of his muscles, do you theenk you can do that?”

A deep, gruff voice belted out an enthusiastic “YEEEAAAH!!!!!”

Victor jerked his head upright, looking towards the door as a literal white wall of muscle forced his shoulders and tiny wings through the doorway.

“al-RIGHT, let’s DO THIS!” the pegasus shouted. A few bottles of oils on the walls rattled at his voice. Victor could not doubt this “Snowflake’s” enthusiasm!

He felt a chill run down his back as a cold, floral scented oil was poured onto his back, but that quickly became a warmth that seeped into his old muscles as it was rubbed down his spine. Just as he was starting to relax, there was a sudden downward thrusting force between his shoulders, a sharp crack, and a blinding pain that seared through his nerves before his tense muscles suddenly relaxed. The big zebra gave a low moan, practically melting into the table beneath him as Snowflake worked his magic.

A few moments later at the reception desk Lotus Blossom and her sister Aloe were running around like chickens with their head cut off! Huge, heavy thuds were echoing through the floor and walls as they tried their best to catch the vials of oils and shampoos that were shaking themselves off of the shelves. They looked at one another and shrugged, they had never known any creature to be able to endure Snowflake’s massage for more than a few seconds, but this had been going on for a good fifteen minutes! Finally, just as Aloe made a diving catch to save a particularly expensive bottle of mane conditioner, the noise finally stopped, followed by a low, rumbling groan of relief.

After he had finished, Victor stood slowly on wobbling legs. He had no idea that he had been so tense. He nodded to the blonde buzz-maned bodybuilder in thanks and headed back to the front to pay his bill. Snowflake smiled and relaxed a bit. He finally had a customer who didn’t run screaming in pain from his deep tissue massage.

Stepping back out into the sun was a changed zebra. His body had healed a bit, filling back out a bit as his body quickly processed the wonderful food from that morning. His mane was pulled back in a tight ponytail behind his neck, healthy and bouncing slightly as he walked. His tail had been bound in braided leather straps both for fashion and protection, the fluffy tip protruding from the end. His black stripes were sleek and shining and his white fur almost seemed to glow in the sunlight. Even his dark hooves were polished almost to a mirror sheen.

He smiled brightly, still careful to keep his muzzle closed as he looked about at the little ponies going about their chores. They shuffled from store to store, most greeting one another cheerfully as they did so. He could see occasional confrontations, but these seemed minor and far between. Of course, they still kept staring at him from the sidelines and moved far out of the way as he passed.

Sighing, he gazed up at the mountainside above Ponyville at Canterlot Castle. He would have to venture up there soon to ask about official ownership of the ruins in the Everfree, but he was determined to wait until after nightfall. Not only would his size cause less of a ruckus amongst the so-called Canterlot Elite, he would be more likely to granted an audience with Princess Luna, with whom he was still on somewhat good terms unlike her accursed sister.

He wandered the town for a while, slowly becoming more and more confused. Most of the roads were the same, aside from being in such good condition, but others were new entirely. Most of the buildings were in good repair, most of the ponies he recognized were here, though they didn’t seem to recognize him at all.

As made his way down the street, ponies continued to give him wide berth, either trotting to the other side of the road or slipping into alleys as he passed by. All save one. A small white pegasus in a wide-brimmed black hat trotted right up to him, tilted his head back and held out a hoof in a welcoming gesture.

“Greetings, friend! I don’t believe I’ve seen you in these parts before!” He smiled pleasantly enough and seemed sincere in his welcome.

Victor reached out a foreleg and tapped the offered hoof in return, his own dwarfing the smaller stallion’s. “Indeed. It’s been a long time since I last visited, far longer than I intended, it seems.”

“Well, I certainly hope you’ll be staying a while! Allow me to introduce myself, I am Reverend Smallflower, and…” his voice trailed off a bit as he saw the sudden change in the huge zebra’s mood.

Victor frowned, his mood turning sour. Thunderheads seemed to knit between his eyebrows as he scowled down at the pious pony before him, “Reverend? After hearing from one of your congregation earlier, I’m surprised you speak to, how did he put it? “Lesser creatures like me.”

Smallflower shook his head, frowning now as well, “Bah, you ran across a member of the Celestian Church. In our church, all are welcome.”

He blinked, then reached a hoof up to rub at the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. He’d just acted every bit the ruffian that the townsfolk had been treating him like. “I’m sorry, Reverend. You’re correct. They were in front of the day spa and were trying to keep others from entering.”

The reverend sighed and shook his head, “They know better than that. THe next time you see them doing something similar, just inform Constable Crager of the Ponyville police department. He’ll set things straight. Just make sure you talk to him directly. Sadly, some of the officers are members of the Celestian church as well.”

Shaking his head in return, Victor smiled in thanks, “I appreciate you letting me know. Perhaps I may stop by to see your congregation one day. Good day, Reverend Smallflower.”

“And a good day to you, too, brother.. uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Victor, and thank you again.”

With that, the two touched hooves again and went their separate ways. After this encounter, however, Victor noticed a change. Fewer ponies were crossing to the far side of the street to get away from him. He got a few nods of acknowledgment or waves. He was even able to browse a few shopping stalls without the keeper not suddenly having business elsewhere.

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#Dr. Mordenheim’s Travels Book 1: De Writer’s Equestria #Chap 2 #Hosted Tales #De Writer's AU #Written by @mordenheim

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kryptsune · 5 years ago

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🌼Yes I know I said I needed a break but here is my proof that I love what I do. I spent today and yesterday crafting a little drabble for Felldritch. I am unsure if this is going to be exactly how this story is going to go but it’s a general idea. If it becomes a proper fic then I will elaborate more. Hope you enjoy it C: Tell me what you think and if you would like to see more.

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION IT IS NOT FOR YOUR USE. IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD! It helps me so much! It makes such a difference.💙If you want more of these just let me know! It’s the only way I can gauge interest!

FELLDRITCH DRABBLE {1/3}: The Madhouse

Chocolate colored walls surrounded her day in, day out, though chocolate was something one would associate with something pleasant. This room. Was not. All appearances led one to believe in the fastidious nature of this place. This containment. This prison of foul-smelling chemicals of an unknown substance. The scent of something burning followed by screams for mercy. No…they never heard that. No. This was not a place one would associate with something sweet.

It was a facade. A simple show for those that did not know any better. A dull green leather sofa sat along the wall. The rivets bolting it down were just hidden by an ornate rug of ghastly reds and browns. Some unknown crimson stain that was never able to be washed out was just covered by a wooden table. A few books here and there slightly worn decorated its surface. They were books one would not make an effort to pick up. The Nature of the Mind, An Essay on the Success of Electrostimulation, CareGiving, A Safe Haven. All books that might lure one into a false sense of security about this place. This madhouse of screaming lunatics and suffering patients. Ruttledge Asylum… The home for the Mentally Tortured and Disturbed.

A large wooden desk, a full coat rack, a diploma hanging just over some gaudy floral cream-colored wallpaper. Giant books filled with fancy penmanship. A ledger and a quill. Meaningless. Small details that had no value or purpose other than to be eye candy. A pale face watched it all from above surrounded in a golden frame, “Frisk… are you even listening?” Chocolate eyes flecked with ruby stared down from that pale face. Its lips moved expressing a lack of thoughtfulness. A dull tone of acceptance, “I’m sorry Dr. Ruttledge. I will pay more attention.”

The voice that came from that pale face was soft, almost a whisper. One would question if they were truly there, to begin with. A kind of lifelessness that illuminated the tribulations of the past, present, and future. The face that stared back, mahogany hair cut in places haphazardly sticking out, a bandage around a pale throat, eyebrows furrowed with despair. This was her…

A young woman lay on a lounge staring up into the mirror that the nurses and doctor had placed there. They had claimed it was a means of self-reflection. To be able to see one's own progress and health improving. To her, however, it was a wraith. Every time she stared back at that girl she could see herself being whittled away. Every question asked left her more and more hollow. No one believed her and why should they? Her experience was something out of a fairytale. Something that only the mad would conjure up, “Frisk I am going to ask you once more and I want you to respond honestly. Do you understand?”

Dr. W. D. Silias Ruttledge owned this madhouse. He was the presiding caregiver and psychologist to those that did not have violent tendencies. The rest were thrown in solitary beating their empty skulls against dirty white padding. Only hearing the voices of others through a bolted latch in the door. At night she would hear them pacing or talking to themselves.

He had a suspicious voice. One that was soothing in understanding but he didn’t take that tone with everyone. She always felt he was hiding something. Of course, he would just add paranoia to her list of ailments if she even exhibited such an accusation. His black hair was neatly combed where she could just see a streak or two of grey by the side of his skull. A crooked nose had a pair of golden spectacles perched lightly. She noticed it was a habit of his to pull them off and clean them with this handkerchief when he was beginning to grow irritable. A faint scar ran from the bottom of his left eye and she could have sworn also the top of his right. He was properly groomed, a high white starched collar resting below his chin. An ebony and cream waistcoat showed how successful he had been in his career. The finery of a medical professional.

A set of hazel eyes were kept focused on the clipboard he had resting on one leg dressed in black slacks. A lapel pin of a deer rested on the fabric standing out very minimally. It must have been his lineage she guessed just from his British accent, “Yes sir, I understand.” He tapped the quill he was using to write against the inkwell gently ready to write down any notes that may implicate her level of delusion. It was hopeless.

“Frisk, can you explain to me how you got here?” He replied, moving in his chair to find a more comfortable position before reaching for his usual cup of tea and taking a sip, “I want a full and complete answer, no one-word responses today.”

She just turned her attention back up at the doppelganger in the mirror, watching it speak but not feeling anything about what it was saying. It could have been a doll or a dead body for all she cared. That was how hollow she had become. Was there even a soul left within her? Her eyes fell closed before he even asked. It was a typical procedure. Everyday, “Yes, Dr. Ruttledge. I promise I will answer completely and honestly.” Even answering fully wouldn’t put any emotion behind it. A soft sigh escaped her, “I was found wandering the woods late at night nearly seven years ago.

He nodded his head, never once looking up at her, “Yes and why is it you have found yourself in our care?” His quill scribbled something down as she responded, “I was confused trying to remember what had happened to leave me there. Alone in the woods...” The writing stopped, soft scratching absent from crumpled parchment, “You were found exclaiming that you came from a world of monsters. That you needed to help and that you made a promise. A promise to free them from their underground prison.”

Frisk swallowed thickly, “Dr. Ruttledge please I-” He cut her off, listing off her supposed illness calmly. She didn’t want to hear it anymore, “You became hysterical and physically aggressive when you were found and brought here. You begged to be released. So that you could return to them. You continued to talk about these demons… skeletons, fish people, dragons, and goat beasts.” He removed his spectacles and set them down on his clipboard, folding his hands in front of him, “Now tell me, is this due to some trauma or hallucination that you have had? Do you still believe in these fabrications?”

Her eyes fluttered open to look off to the side, “Frisk? Did you not hear my question?” She took a breath but did not respond to the question. She could just hear that soft sound of metal folding upon metal, “I see. We shall skip that question for now. Now... tell me about these friends that you talk about. That you confide in.”

She stared as he sat calmly looking down at her. He never seemed to move positions except for maybe switching the leg he crossed. His attention was back on his notes, but only for a second, “Let’s start with your ‘Best Friend’. You seem to talk about him quite a bit.” Frisk felt her body stiffen. Of course, he would ask about him, “Frisk, I want you to talk about him.” She didn’t want to. She never wanted to because she knew what would happen when she did.

“He was one of the first monsters I met. He helped me and watched over me… protected me. We became close friends. He saved me. I would have had to sacrifice myself to save them all. They all told me that it wouldn’t be the same if I was gone. He begged me to leave my mission behind. Save myself.”

Dr. Ruttledge just nodded his head, “Yes, as we have discussed before. I must ask if your analysis of this… situation is correct. To me, it sounds as though you possibly had feelings for this demon. Which concerns me greatly.” Frisk shook her head before bolting upright, “He is not a demon!” He raised a brow before shaking his head, “Is? As in present tense. Oh, Frisk, I thought we had made progress today. We will continue tomorrow. Rest up, I will see you in the morning.” He rose from his chair, setting the clipboard down on his desk with a soft sigh and opening the door. His gaze was locked on her, just waiting for her to leave his office, or the most likely reason: waiting for the nurse to “escort” her out.

Of course, she was upset. He just called her best friend a demon. He was nothing of the sort, even if he was skeletal in appearance. His brother was not that way either. As much as she wanted to play the game to get out of here she wasn’t going to agree to that. Sans and Pap. They were her friends and family. Nothing would ever change that. Even as the nurse glared at her, grabbing her arm and leading her down the hall.

She didn’t even bother to look around the room she was in. It was the room she had been in for nearly seven years. The soft clink of the lock reminded her that she was still a prisoner, regardless of her “ailments.” At least she had a small window to look out over the grounds. It was sad, really, to think that such a small thing was even worth mentioning. It was dark outside with the fire of the lanterns flickering back and forth.

Her hand slipped from the wooden frame only to make her way to the small bed she knew. All she could think of was her bed back in Snowdin. How she would cuddle under those warm covers, snuggled up with the boy's pet dog. Well, more like a wolf. Now she just laid there cuddling a plush she kept close to her. It was a rabbit. A white stuffed rabbit with little button eyes. She had painted them green one day with some of the paint from the rec room. A place she was apparently forbidden from for it would “worsen” her delusions.

All she could do was close her eyes and try to rest, all while slipping into her memories of a better time. One that she wanted to return to. A place where she was loved and accepted. A place that withheld judgment. Home. She buried her face gently against the plush in her arms, her whole body shaking from the thoughts that clawed at her mind. It was at that moment she felt terribly alone and hopeless.

Frisk could feel the tears slipping down her cheeks as she curled into a ball on top of the thin blankets. A few soft sobs caused her to choke on what little words she could get out, “I want to go home.” Would they even recognize her anymore? She was broken. A fragile thing putting up a smiling face in the jaws of adversity. That tightness was starting to constrict her chest before she let it out. Trails of tears poured from her eyes as she fell apart, slowly struggling to take in proper oxygen. This place was breaking her. If she just admitted that they didn’t exist maybe they would let her leave. Maybe she could live a normal life, but that wasn’t the one she wanted.

A few hours later and she was shaken awake only to be greeted by an old frowning face. The nurse. Frisk didn’t bother to remember her name. She was a crotchety old crone that treated the patients like dogs. The cup in her hand found its way into her cheek, squishing against her face and forcing her to take it from those leathery hands. It was her medicine. The kind that would make her sleepy. It was a feeling she hated; not being in control of herself properly. She took the pills and hid them under her tongue as the nurse walked away. Normally they checked to see if they were swallowed, but they had never caught her not taking them before.

She spit them out before tossing them through the bars of the window. There were worse things here then not taking ones medication. Tortures she had been subjected to even though she was not supposed to. That was when she noticed a sliver of light coming from the hallway. The nurse had forgotten to shut the door.

All that was running through her mind was that she could be free. She could escape this place. Adrenaline was coursing through her as her feet flew toward the crack in the metal. A promise of freedom and escape. There was no one in the hallway.

She grabbed some of her clothing. The same ones that she had been found in and threw them on. The striped shirt that she wore in the Underworld for so long they had thrown away a long time ago. Now all she was left with was the patient clothing now hanging on her shoulders and a pair of boots and socks. She hated being stuck in that sterile smock, but she couldn’t waste any time.

She grabbed what she found valuable from her room before creeping down the hallway, passing a security guard easily. The spare keys were kept in the office as she snagged one from the drawer before rushing toward the door. That soft click of the key being inserted into the lock caused her heart to jump, as she stumbled out into the night. Where was the mountain? She could just faintly make out the silhouette of Ebott from where she was.

Frisk ran as hard as she could and as fast as she could, stumbling through the trees, climbing rocks, and doing everything in her power to reach the summit. She knew where she had fallen; it was all rushing back. A branch caught at her cheek, causing a thin line of crimson to bead from the wound. Just a little bit more. 'Seven years ago she had been here,' she thought as she stared down into the open mouth of the mountain. So long ago.

It didn’t matter… she was going home.

A simple jump and she had flung herself into the darkness once more. Only this time she knew what awaited her. At least… she thought she did….

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johannesviii · 5 years ago

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Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2004

15 to 16 years old. A chaotic year for sure, but with a high quality soundtrack. So here’s a top ten list in which, as usual for that decade, several painful cuts had to be made.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

To provide the usual personal context, that year, being that-weirdo-in-the-back-of-the-class suddenly became great when OTHER people were also considered weirdos-in-the-back-of-the-class, and together, with a guy who kept falling asleep in class because he had insomnia, another guy who had elocution problems, and a girl who arrived directly from Cameroun in the middle of winter and was kinda depressed, we formed some sort of losers club and suddenly things weren’t so bad anymore. Unfortunately I completely lost contact with these people after highschool and that’s one of the biggest regrets of my life.

And then in September I once again ended in a completely different class in Terminale (equivalent of Senior Year in the US unless I’m mistaken) and made another great friend. So while life at home was still pretty bad, at least it was much better at school.

At this point my parents also stopped checking what kind of singles I was buying, which means that instead of this madness from 2003 where I had to hide some purchases with other ones...

...I only bought this in 2004 and the rest were actual albums.

Also, I found some old tapes and oh my goodness look at the label on this one. Late 2002/early 2003 at its finest right there. Kyo written with a typo, next to Eminem, next to Mylène Farmer. Love it.

With all of that out of the way, here’s a list of honorable mentions first. A very, very long list.

Yeah (Usher feat Lil Jon & Ludacris) - Thank goodness I thought this song was pretty cool, otherwise I’d have been miserable while listening to the radio in 2004.

Milkshake (Kelis) - Ooooooh daaaaangerously close to the So Bad It’s Good category.

Let’s Get It Started (Black Eyed Peas) - Don’t have anything to say, it’s a lot of fun.

Dragosta Din Tei (O-Zone) - This took like four more years to chart in the US but we heard it all summer here. And it wasn’t unpleasant at all to be honest?

Heaven (remix) (DJ Sammy) - Hang on, wasn’t this on the 2002 honorable mentions? Yeah but it took two years to chart here so it was elligible for 2004 as well.

Turn Me On (Kevin Lyttle) - A quality earworm that somehow isn’t annoying? Sign me up.

Call On Me (Eric Prydz) - Hey, look, another repetitive dance track in my collection of repetitive dance tracks!

What You Waiting For? (Gwen Stefani) - I think this is the only Gwen Stefani song that never made me turn the radio off after a minute. Pretty good.

It’s My Life (No Doubt) - Love the original. This version, not so much.

Parce Qu’on Vient de Loin (Corneille) - Favorite artist of my best friend that year. That song was so moving and well-written. Never got tired of it but never actively listened to it either. If I had better taste it would probably make the list.

The Reason (Hoobastank) - I thought this was ok and pretty nice if a bit bland, and didn’t deserve the success nor the hatred it got. However, thanks to the rock journal I was buying at the time which was like “hey, please listen to the album itself, it’s great!”, I followed that advice, listened to the album at the cd store and bought it instantly. If you dislike this song, please listen to the rest of the album, I swear you’ll enjoy it. Here’s the first track, Same Direction, to get a general idea!

Don’t Tell Me (Avril Lavigne) - Her second album was very good, wasn’t it? What happened to her in recent years?

Je Saigne Encore (Kyo) - This was the last cut (HA, get it? cut?? ok sorry that was terrible) from the list. While I loved it back in the day and while I’m willing to ignore how cringy some stuff I loved as a teenager can be now, I'm not willing to ignore how this is basically a song about a white boy being dumped for the first time and hurting himself because he can’t deal with the mere concept of jealousy. And I’m like “holy shit calm down dude and please drop that knife”.

And now, the actual list.

10 - Hey Ya! (Outkast)

US: #8 / FR: #41

Who’s surprised. Come on. Everyone loved it. I even bought the single! And to think I almost considered leaving it out of the top 10 to put friggin Kyo on it, of all things. The indignity. But yeah, I genuinely loved this. The only thing I can say against it is that it’s a bit too exhausting to be listened to on a loop.

9 - 100 Years (Five For Fighting)

US: #77 / FR: Not on the list

I only heard this a couple of times that year and never paid much attention.

Then I heard it again in 2018 right in the middle of a very, very bad year, after losing my grandfather, and it absolutely destroyed me.

It’s very, very good.

8 - Face à la Mer (Passy & Calogero)

US: Not on the list / FR: #11

Very overplayed that year. A delight every single time it was on the radio, though. Don’t have anything else to say about it.

7 - Modern Times (J-Five)

US: Not on the list / FR: #26

A hiphop song sampling a scene from Modern Times with Charlie Chaplin. It peaked at number 1 here! Not kidding! I bought the single after hearing it exactly once. It’s fantastic and I’m really sad time buried it like it did. If you’ve forgotten about it or simply never heard it before, please give it a listen, it needs more love.

6 - Hit My Heart (Benassi Bros)

US: Not on the list / FR: #74

Remember last time when I said I was a major sucker for Benassi Bros? Well this isn’t an exception. That is a killer drop right there. It looks great and dark and glittery all at once and, by the way, the sunny and summer-y music video completely contradicted how the song looked like in my ears, haha.

5 - My Happy Ending (Avril Lavigne)

US: #54 / FR: Not on the list

I’m not entirely sure what went wrong and when in Avril Lavigne’s career the shift happened, but a couple of years after that song her music got a lot less interesting. I may have enjoyed her first album Let Go a lot, but this song might just be her best one ever.

The sudden shift from “YOU WERE everything” to “HE WAS everything” near the end, in particular, is great writing. Love that.

4 - Left Outside Alone (Anastacia)

US: Not on the list / FR: #76

Usually, voices, good or bad, have zero impact on me except when they border on unlistenable, or when they are physically painful to hear/look at. The guy from Muse for example has a voice that looks like the equivalent of a flashlight in the dark and it hurts, and I’m like dude. Can you please tune that down a little bit. Please.

This lady’s voice right there is fascinating though. Her voice is green and dark and it’s such a strange, rare voice I’m charmed whenever I hear it, and in this song in particular. This was on SO MANY of my tapes it’s not even funny. And the chorus is fantastic and a joy to sing along with even if you don’t have a good voice yourself.

3 - Orchestra (The Servant)

US: Not on the list / FR: #97

So we were on vacation, and they were giving away free cds at one stop. And I put the one I got in my portable cd player, and wasn’t that excited by the first tracks.

And then the fifth one started. And I was instantly captivated.

You already know I absolutely adored Placebo at the time (sadly, Protect Me isn’t elligible here either), and that guy from The Servant had a similar voice and the song was roughly in the same ballpark, and the lyrics were so, so weird.

There's an orchestra in me, Playing endlessly I even hear it now They play in the devil's key, An endless symphony I even hear it now And I listen to the music, Beautiful music Yes I listen to the music, Beautiful music

And, again, I’m terrible at describing sounds but the colors are so disquieting and there’s an unpleasant vibe except the song itself isn’t unpleasant? It’s so damn weird. And that band never struck gold again after that.

I still don’t know what happened or how all of this works. It’s a mystery. A very beautiful and curious mystery. This would have had a good shot at winning the #1 spot if it hadn’t been for [shakes fist] these other guys.

2 - Breaking the Habit (Linkin Park)

US: #79 / FR: #89

Only #2? Does... does that mean Linkin Park isn’t going to top my lists three years in a row? Holy shit, dodged a bullet there.

Should I really repeat my whole speech about Meteora. Should I really. Come on. It starts with the sound of a closing door, then broken glass, and then guitars explode in your face. The first line of the album is “sometimes I need to remember just to breathe”! Somewhere I Belong is one of my favorite songs from the band! I was trying to match the flow of Faint even if my English was still extremely shaky and my accent terrible!

And then there’s Breaking the Habit, which sounds almost pleasant compared to the levels of aggression displayed by the other songs. But it’s weirdly tense and stressful for that exact reason, because this relative calm sounds like a menace.

It works even better out of the context of the album, where it sounded a tad more aggressive than the average pop song, but still tense and stressful. And the music video is fantastic. I had it on a giant poster. I know I’ve kept it folded somewhere. If I only knew where it was, I’d show it to you. Covering up the (bright pink) walls in my room back then was a lot of work.

Edit: Nevermind. Found it:

Gotta say one thing though. At least they aren’t #1 for the third year in a row. What’s left of my dignity has been saved.

1 - Enjoy the Silence 2004 (Depeche Mode, Mike Shinoda remix)

US: Not on the list / FR: #89

Waiiiit a second. This was remixed by Mike Shinoda, wasn’t it. Mike Shinoda. From Linkin Park.

I guess Linkin Park IS topping my lists three years in a row in the end sdfghjhgfdfghjkjhg end me

But yeah. So. Enjoy the Silence tops a second list of mine, then. 14 years after the first one. I’m not gonna repeat what I’ve already said about that song. It simply got a brand new coat of paint, but still, even if it’s basically street art painted over a framed painting, what a masterpiece. Was genuinely gawking the first time I heard it on the radio.

And then Depeche Mode released one of their best albums ever the very next year, and it was the album of the year for me, and I became a big fan. So yeah, thanks for introducing me to their music, Mike Shinoda.

Bonus: I noticed my trusty old radio/cd player was in the background of a pic my brother took around that time! I miss that radio. It was pearl-colored and I had added stickers of birds and insects on it. So everytime I say “on the radio” in these posts, just picture this round little thing which was at the center of my universe back then.

Next up: Not the best song of the decade but pretty close

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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fenrys-moonbae · 5 years ago

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A Bright Star in Centuries of Darkness--Chapter 3

If there was one thing Eleanor abhorred more than playing royal escort it was rising before the sun, forcing her body into wakefulness when all she wanted to do was remain clasped in the blissful hold of dreams.

And this was the third day of rising at such an unholy hour.

She’d thrown a shoe at Evalin that morning when she’d come into her room, throwing the curtains wide and telling her to rise before she was late for her appointment. It hadn’t helped that her dear cousin had brought a chilled bucket of icy water up with her after Eleanor had refused to budge the second and third time.

A bucket she’d promptly dumped over her and her bedding, sending her into a screeching fury as she’d flown from the bed, furious.

At least you’re up, Evalin had tutted victoriously before pointing toward the wardrobe, her riding clothes having already been laid out for her.

She was going to put mouse droppings in her slippers.

Shivering against the chill morning air, she pulled her shearling-lined cloak closer about her, attempting to stave off some of the cold. Why Glaston had felt it essential that she show their visitor the grounds before the rise of the sun was beyond her.

She steered her pale mount over one of the rolling green hills following an eddying brook deep into the king’s territory, Gavriel keeping pace with her but at a healthy distance as he’d done the days before, his silence nearly suffocating.

She’d been pointing out various landmarks and their history as they’d strolled, feeling more like a tour guide than coveted company as each day passed.

Here was where my great-grandfather relieved himself and sipped from a flask when his duchess wife became overbearing, she thought sarcastically, looking over the field, and here is where I bury the bodies of those who threaten my family. No, not there, a little to the right. She’d half hoped she could lead him off a cliff and claim it an accident, though she highly doubted the male would fall for such a ploy.

Not with the way he moved, the way he took in his every surrounding, constantly evaluating and cataloging. Was it wise to show him their lands? Any defensive tactics they might have against Her Great Unholiness?

Not that it would matter much if all of Dornanelle’s warriors were built like that.

Their soldiers were toothpicks in comparisons, bones for them to snack on.

Something inside Eleanor knew that wasn’t his purpose here though, even if her logic screamed against it. After days of watching him she’d gotten the impression he wasn’t here for a military advantage but for something else.

She’d been sour with him when he’d offered a hand to her as she mounted her horse, Lady Cecilia as she affectionately called the golden mare, earlier, ever the gentleman . . . male? She’d almost slapped it away before clambering into the saddle on her own instead. She might be a princess but she was no invalid.

He’d bowed his head respectfully before swinging flawlessly into his own saddle, the muscles beneath his tunic rippling as he’d adjusted himself. Muscles that Eleanor’s gaze kept snagging on as they rode into the wood, shifting as he guided his horse.

She couldn’t help but note them more and more as they spent time together.

What did Maeve feed them?

Perhaps she’d find out and start slipping it into the food of the guards and perhaps some of the skin-and-bone nobles that had been pestering her about her future ‘endeavors’—also known as her bidding and the coveted offspring she was expected to bear. If she was going to have to tolerate one of them, he might at least be nice to look at and touch.

And as long as it wasn’t Lord Dennor clamoring for her . . .

The thought of flitting away to Terrasen clanged through her mind. Rumor was the Terrasen men were just as lovely, their fae heritage still thick in their blood, and if one had caught Evalin’s attention . . . she could surely find herself a nice warrior to keep her bed warmed at night.

One that would make Glaston’s hair stand on end.

She almost chuckled at the thought. She sent another sidelong glance at Gavriel, appreciating the tawny eyes and golden skin. Perhaps she could find one with such fine coloring. “Is there something you’d like to ask?” the warriors deep voice inquired, the accent rolling and rich as he caught her stare. A blush raced up her cheeks. She directed her attention elsewhere, ignoring the hammering of her heart in her chest.

“Just wondering how you eat without puncturing your own lip with those fangs,” a nod towards the canines that flashed when he spoke, “I imagine it makes for a difficult time, Sir Gavriel.”

A soft smile.

“You get used to them, especially when you’ve never known anything else, Milady.”

Did you get used to serving a bitch Queen as well, when you’d never known anything else? she mused internally but settled for replying with a small “Ah.” The male grew quiet again, contemplative as he watched the scenery pass by. “Your Kingdom is lovely.” “I’m sure it pales in comparison to Doranelle.” “Different,” he brushed a hand along the base of a pale aspen, his fingers gliding over the bark, “but just as beautiful.” Insufferably polite. She almost wondered if she could get a rise out of a that composed manner of his, make him show a little bit of the predator that was no doubt lurking beneath his skin.

Only one way to find out.

“And our Court? Does it hold any light when compared to the splendor of Dornanelle?”

“The same, different but just as splendid.”

Horse shit.

He was deflecting.

“Even with the array of conniving nobles vying for power and the throne?” Wendlyn had certainly seen its fair share of assassinations and coups. Not that anyone would dare try to usurp dear Maeve from her dark throne.

He quirked an elegant brow at her.

“Political intrigue is the same in all walks of life, and I have little taste for it. But . . . yes, there are similarities, though perhaps less frequent.”

Because you’re conniving old bastards that never die?

“I see.” She clicked her tongue, squinting at the sun as it slowly rose towards its apex in the sky. “And what of other things?” A nod to his clothes, a simple grey tunic that Eleanor was disappointed wasn’t stained green. “Your fashion, perhaps?”

“Also different. Less . . .” she could see he was searching for a word that she wouldn’t deem offensive, “cumbersome.” “Why, Sir Gavriel,” she mocked offense as she fanned herself with her hand, her lips tugging at the concern, “are you implying our human clothes with all our frills and laces aren’t practical?” She thought back on the spring fashion that had been presented to the royal family that winter, the petticoats and bodices made of taffeta and satin that took up an entire room.

She’d nearly passed out when they’d laced her in one of the gowns, almost tearing the damned thing when she tried to bend over to adjust her shoes. Evalin had made quiet quacking noises at her as she’d waddled about.

“I am a soldier and am not accustomed to such finery.” Eleanor ground her teeth as he continued in his pleasant tone, easily gaining his grip back on the conversation “Forgive me if I have given offense.”

“Oh, I’ve taken great offense,” she couldn’t keep the laughter from her voice as she thought on the gaudy clothes they’d tried to stuff her in, “such offense I might not recover.”

He sent her a questioning look, as though he wasn’t entirely certain if she were serious or not. She deadpanned at him.

“I only jest.” Some tension fled from his shoulders as he flashed her a small, wry smile, one that seemed less formal than the others he’d offered her that morning.

“I do see you have a preference for the color grey,” a nod to his tunic, “is there a reason you’ve chosen that particular color?” Other than to symbolize you’re a mindless, heartless soldier.

“It is the color of my cadre, we all wear it as a unit,” a small quirk of his full lips, “though I do find removing stains from it tends to be quite cumbersome.” He had not forgotten about her little incident then, choosing to address it with her without watching eyes. Eleanor retained her smile. If he wanted to play a game she was more than happy to partake.

“Any what of your décor? Do you keep up with the newest styles and furniture?”

“It is refined but traditional. We live with one foot in the wilderness,” a nod to the environment around him, “a taste for things a little less constrained and tame. Many of our decorations are valued items of history.” She gave him a once over, noting his dark blond locks as a question formed in her mind. “And your carpets? Do they match the drapes?” Gavriel wheeled on her, his eyes wide as he took her in, disbelief playing over his features. So, he was a traditionalist, not keen on the less savory aspects of humor. She filed the information away.

Sucking on a tooth she calmly added, “Forgive me, I mean your tapestries and rugs, are they matched in color or do you decorate based on the value of the item?” She tried not to look too triumphant as the male cast his glance away from her, as she swore a faint tinge of pink bloomed on those too-perfect cheekbones of his, as he curtly replied, “There is no specific means of decorating, it is as we see fit.”

She’d made him uncomfortable. How unfortunate. “Sir Gavriel, did you think I had inquired after something else? I am only interested in understanding your culture and ways, as I know far less than my dear Evalin.” She batted her eyelashes at him, willing innocence to her features.

A poised, calm Princess.

“Forgive me, Princess,” he replied, seeming to shake the shock from his features as they melded back into a neutral expression, his horse having drifted a distance from hers, “it seems my comrades and their . . . banter have put my mind in a less than ideal place.” Eleanor wondered which of his ‘comrades’ had a dirty mind and if they’d had a more elaborate sense of humor than the stoic male before her. Perhaps they were more attractive, though that would be difficult to achieve.

She’d opened her mouth to begin another tirade of inappropriate remarks when she heard distant shouting and a high, echoing scream that tore through the underbrush.

“What is that?” she inquired, swiveling her attention towards the commotion.

Before she knew what had happened, she felt her horse skitter beneath her, banking toward the tree in front of her as a large, feral boar tore free from the undergrowth, its tusks slashing as it bolted straight for her, blood gushing from its side.

Game that hunters had failed to fell. A poorly placed, shallow wound, just enough to enrage to beast.

She didn’t remember the moment Cecilia spooked or when she was bucked from the saddle, but she recalled tumbling to the soft grass, pain splintering through her shoulder and collarbone as the horse stomped down on her and she rolled, finding herself face to face with the charging creature.

Fear pierced her as she stared death rushing at her, unable to move as it rampaged towards her.

She braced for the impact, squeezing her eyes tightly and holding her breath, praying it would be swift.

The impact never came as a crack resounded throughout the space, the sound of a body collapsing and slumping harmlessly into the grass. The hot reek of blood assaulted Eleanor’s senses as she peeled an eye open, the open maw of the beast just before her, its eyes gazing unseeingly.

How? She sucked in a shuddering breath, shock racing through her. How?

Someone had a hand on her, was speaking her name, trying to get her attention—

“Your Highness! Are you alright?” It was Gavriel, kneeling close to her as he placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder, his tawny eyes assessing, scanning for injuries. “Where?” Reality reeled in as Eleanor looked between him and the beast.

He’d killed it instantly, snapped its neck with a golden shield he’d erected before her, its remnants still shimmering. The creature’s momentum had killed it instantly.

Something molten appeared in his eyes as he looked off towards the bushes, toward the sound of approaching horses and men.

She nodded numbly, trying to right herself.

Pain lanced through her shoulder and she couldn’t help the cry that escaped her as she felt bones shift. Hissing, she slumped back down, Gavriel’s hands still keeping her upright. She must have broken something, snapped it when the horse’s hoof had come down on her.

“Princess Eleanor!” It was a young tracker who came stumbling through the bushes, his grey eyes wide in fright as he took her in. “You’re injured—” true panic there, she tried to keep her annoyance to a minimum, “My Lord, the Princess!”

It would be the talk of the evening. Lovely Eleanor bucked from her loyal mount and nearly skewered by a boar all while in the company of one of Maeve’s soldiers. Wonderful.

Others materialized behind him, men dressed in Lord Dennor’s colors of rusty red and gold, their eyes growing wide as they took her in, laying there in the grass, the fae warrior kneeling over her. Of course it had to be him.

Where was Evalin when she needed her to be a voice of reason to these fools?

Panic wasn’t going to help anyone, especially not her.

And with the scene they’d stumbled upon, a felled boar and her collapsed like some tragic, helpless damsel in the warrior’s arms.

Oh yes, it was going to be the talk of the castle.

More pain sliced through her shoulder, causing her to cry out as she panted, trying to immobilize the joint. If these men were to carry her back, the jostling—

She’d rather remaining laying in the grass.

Gavriel had not moved, however, his pupils dilated as he watched Dennor fly into view, his mustache twitching as his mount pawed from its sudden stop. “My lady,” Dennor immediately slid from his horse, his gullet nearly catching on the side of his saddle as he made for her, his eyes wide in fright as he approached her. “The damned beast! We must get you to a healer immediately!” He made as though he would reach for her before Gavriel’s voice cut him off.

“Do not move her.” That was the voice of a soldier and of a commander, and the tone surprised Eleanor. She watched as he looked up at Dennor, something like reproach flickering in his gaze as he glanced toward the boar. “It will need to be patched here to prevent further injury.” “And I suppose you will be the one to do that?” Dennor sneered, making Eleanor want to reach up and strangle the man, even if the pain of moving would send her into unconsciousness. It might be worth it.

Black spots were beginning to bloom in her vision anyway, as the adrenaline wore off and the pain began to cascade in. She couldn’t the little yelp as she tried to take a deep breath and was met with a slashing pain.

Dennor shot his attention to her.

“You’re injuring the lady! Put her down this instant.”

“No.”

Oh wonderful, an argument, very productive to getting her patched up. Her vision was growing wavery as Dennor continued on, Gavriel’s hold on her tight as he watched the man spew, his face growing redder by the second. She hadn’t noticed quite how broad the warrior’s chest was until she was pressed against it, the coiled muscle somehow comforting.

How much had the adrenaline altered her brain?

Something giddy in Eleanor emerged as the thought of what Dennor must’ve seen when he’d ridden into that field, his lovely princess in the arms of a fae warrior. How his manhood must have shriveled.

She would have laughed had it not hurt so rutting much.

Her vision had nearly depleted when a sudden warmth, bright and luxurious, flooded her arm, before she slipped into unconsciousness, grateful that the pain was gone.

When Eleanor came to, confusion filled her as she found herself lying in her bed, mysteriously changed into a dressing gown, with the comforter tucked under her chin and the fading evening rays beginning to peak through her curtains.

How had she gotten here? Last she recalled she’d been heckling Gavriel, inquiring about his nether regions when—the boar.

The memories flooded her as movement flickered to the right of her bed.

“You’re awake,” Evalin’s relieved voice sounded as her soft, warm hands took her own, squeezing them tightly. “Are you all right? You scared the wits from all of us.” “Blame the horse,” Eleanor grumbled groggily, gently squeezing her cousin’s hand back reassuringly, “and the boar.” Evalin sighed as she sunk down into the chair she’d pulled beside the bed, the book she’d been reading hastily discarded.

“Is Cecillia all right?”

Evalin huffed a laugh.

“Yes, your precious mount was returned to the stables and thoroughly coddled after her daring rescue of you.”

“A boar was charging her, I really don’t blame her for fleeing. I would have too if I’d been able to get up.” She paused, thinking on Gavriel and Dennor, and their little argument. “What of Dennor? Please tell me Glaston reprimanded him—” Evalin’s face went taut. “The young tracker was punished, Dennor claimed it was his recklessness that caused it.” “Rutting bastard,” Eleanor groused, thinking on the poor boy who’d likely just lost his job because of the lord’s arrogance. She suddenly felt rather peaky. “I don’t know what Glaston sees in him.”

“Neither do I.”

“And Gavriel?”

“Well . . .” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, had Glaston sent Maeve’s flunky away as well? Blamed him for something that was clearly not his fault? He had been the one to save her after all. “He healed your shoulder, quite spectacularly I must say, better than our healers could.” Surprise filled her as she thought of the warmth that had encased her shoulder before she’d lost consciousness. Evalin fiddled with the corner of her book. “He checked you over to make certain you were all right.”

Heat blazed in Eleanor’s cheeks. Checked her over?

Evalin grew quiet, her eyes flickering to her book.

“Eva . . .”

“It was quite the sight, you know.” Evalin toyed with the sleeve of her gown, her voice growing almost . . tender, “Your tiny frame in his arms as he carried you back, looking rather dour as Dennor howled at him the entire way . . .” “No.” Eleanor gasped, heat flushing her cheeks as horror filled her. “Please tell me you’re kidding. Evalin!”

“Glaston was most impressed with his prompt attention, although not as much as the serving girls were, they were nearly swooning,” Evalin swiped a gold curl out of her face as Eleanor felt her stomach squeeze in embarrassment, “He’s being hailed as somewhat of a hero, if only for his ability to deal with Dennor alone.” Eleanor wanted to smoother herself, to crush the life out of her own chest so that she didn’t have to face the rumor mill that was clearly overflowing.

“He’s dropped by periodically to check on you.”

“I hope you told him I died!”

“Eleanor, he was only trying to help . . .”

“Oh, may the gods smite me,” Eleanor rubbed at her eyes, considering never leaving her room, hoping she’d at least never see the male again. The gods had something else in mind, however, as a knock sounded at the door and Eleanor shook her head violently at Evalin, willing her to lock it.

Evalin sent a look as though to ask her if she was truly going to be that callous.

She was indeed going to be.

Too late, the door swung open to reveal Gavriel, who bowed his head respectfully.

Eleanor wished the floor would swallow her whole.

@seekingformangoes (I wasn’t sure if you still want to be tagged so I did, please let me know if you’d like me to untag you)

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