#i think silver and blaze are the only ones who have actually appeared in art more than once so far

[sonknuxadow]

Yeah, I found it strange when Blaze was picked when she had already won on Amy's poll. (Which makes Metal losing again later kinda sad) With Silver being the winner of that; when he was already a chosen character before. If Rouge wins, she joins the club of appearing twice on the art with them. (It's not bad, just a weird pattern.)

i dont think its inherently bad to have characters who have already been in art show up on the polls again. especially when sonic isnt automatically put in all of them like the last time they did pairs for the calendar art which leaves much more room for unique pairs even if some characters show up more than once. but its kinda annoying that they keep doing it over and over this late in the year and prioritizing repeat characters over the many characters who either lost their poll(s) or hadnt gotten a chance at all that could have been given those slots instead.. like sonic metal sonic eggman espio charmy jet wave storm sage maria etc. and theres only 1 month left so most of them are definitely not getting anything this year unless they decide to do a big group picture or something. just feels kinda unfair to fans of those characters

[theladyofbloodshed]

Au Acosf - Chapter 69

Goodbye Spring Court!

@faeriebambula @lady-winter-sunrise @a-court-of-valkyries @sv0430 @mis-lil-red @nesquik-arccheron @emily-gsh @sunsetsofanemoia @swankii-art-teacher @moodymelanist @nestaarcher0n @my-fan-side @c-e-d-dreamer @nestaspegasus @champanheandluxxury @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @lyzriel @dustjacketmusings @sugardoll22 @gwynethhberdara @embersofwildfire @witchsouth

Nesta had tried not to be too disheartened when she had informed various servants that she would be leaving the Spring Court in a matter of days and only received murmurs of sympathy or pitiful goodbyes. She put on a brave face and tried not to let it bother her too much. They had no right to care about her, much less miss her absence. Still, she had thought that her presence had mattered here. It had been her who had enticed servants back to the manor to work, she who had pushed Tamlin back to where he needed to be. Perhaps she simply was not as liked as she had thought. It wouldn’t be the first time; she lacked the approachability of Feyre or the sweet-nature of Elain.

Nesta dragged her attention back to her meeting rather than gazing wistfully out at the grounds where a young girl with wavy blonde hair was cooing at the new horses in the paddock. There was a clumsy foal that spent more of its time loping around the paddock in its own happy, little bubble which captured the attention of many of the servants who’d stop to watch it prancing across the grass.

‘Why not an actual wall?’ Fionn suggested, hands clasped together on the table.

Tamlin pondered it for a moment then shook his head. ‘The Wall was a magical creation. Beyond not being visible, for many mortals it made them turn back. It made mortals want to go back home, to stop pursuing an endless trek into the forest.’

‘Almost like a glamour?’ Nesta asked, still uncertain how faerie magic worked. Nobody had ever truly explained its functionality to her - even Amren wasn’t wholly sure.   

A short nod of the head. ‘Yes. Almost. Fionn, a physical wall will be as good as a beacon saying “this is fae territory”. It will not stop the naga or the bogge.’

‘Regardless of the costs to build it, it would be easy to tear it down too, even for mortals,’ said Lenka, an elderly female who had been living near the sea. Tamlin had discovered she was still alive and had coaxed her out of a cosy retirement by the beach to serve his court once more. Her husband had once served his father – though it appeared he had been the puppet and his wife had directed his hand.

‘I’m less concerned about mortals getting in than anything else getting out,’ Tamlin said, grimacing slightly.

Another doe-eyed girl had been found in the woods by one of the sentries on duties, stumbling aimlessly with no supplies in search of the fae to enchant her. She’d been lucky not to encounter the naga.

‘The creatures that dwell in that forest have always been kept in check,’ replied Lenka, a steely glint in her eye.

‘But they’re not stupid, Lenka. Soon enough they’ll figure out the Wall is passable now. And if they descend into mortal territory, it will be a logistical nightmare as well as a blood bath for them.’

‘Why?’ Fionn broached. ‘We have enough sentries to help the villages closest.’

Nesta shook her head. ‘They’ll think you’re encroaching on their land. I know I would feel as if I had enemies on all fronts if I were still mortal. Who’s to say the naga aren’t minions of the fae set to capture mortals?’

‘But we don’t want them as slaves,’ Fionn protested.

‘The life of a mortal is quick to us, but they remember their history. They know to fear us. What’s the difference between us and Hybern to a mortal?’

‘I say we go to the root of the issue and stop that ridiculous, fanatical cult from recruiting new members,’ Nesta said bitterly. She’d thought the fawning of the Children of the Blessed to be utterly ridiculous when she was a mortal. Now it was tempting to go to them with silver fire blazing round her head to terrify them out of their wits – but she knew they’d be encouraged by the show.

‘You know what you must do,’ the old female pressed, a hard look given to the high lord.

Nesta had scoured the Day Court’s libraries, just as Helion’s people once did, on any information about the creation of the Wall. It had been a disaster. An ancient spell wielded by the Cauldron had been its birth; they would never emulate it. Nesta had needed to read it for herself to confirm it.

‘I will not,’ Tamlin growled, talons piercing through his skin.

Lenka was unbothered by it, even if Fionn did shrink back slightly in his chair, face paling. ‘I have known you since you were a babe and you only grow more stubborn with age. Put aside your rancour and your pride. Seek out Lucien.’

Tamlin practically hissed at the female’s words. ‘And say what to him? Beg him to return and serve me once more? He is loyal to another court. I have no time for him.’

‘Yet he still makes time for you,’ Nesta said, shooting him a look.

It was easier to keep chipping away at the high lord with Lenka’s help. She had the added benefit of history and experience to keep his mood in check.

‘Lucien may serve the Night Court, but he resides in the mortal lands. He will not want to see naga descending upon them. By not informing him, or Jurian, of this risk, we as good as allow it.’ Nesta folded her hands into her lap. ‘He serves the Night Court for one reason and one reason alone: my sister. This was his home. The Night Court has never been such a thing to him.’

Their meeting soon came to an end. Fionn returned to the safety of the grounds to inspect the newest recruits while Lenka hobbled off to her room for a rest. Although the female’s mind was as sharp as ever, she complained that age made her weary. When Nesta had asked Tamlin of her age, he’d shrugged and said that she’d been old his entire life.

‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t find a way to fix the Wall,’ Nesta said once she and Tamlin were alone.

The high lord’s brows raised. He stepped from the chair to look out from the window as if seeing all the way through the forest to where the Wall had been.

‘The Wall had been there for centuries, Nesta, created by the Cauldron, a vat of power – the likes of which have never been seen before.’ His voice softened, ‘you are one person. The burden should not have fallen on you to try and repair it, let alone rebuild a new one. You did not fail.’

Nesta swallowed. Those desperate days studying with Amren still had shame burning within her chest. If only she’d tried harder. If she had embraced her powers quicker. If she had done more. ‘I was connected to the Cauldron. I should have found a way.’

‘It was never your duty,’ he said firmly. ‘You do not have to carry the weight of the Wall upon your shoulders. The king had lived for almost a thousand years and cast spells that none had ever seen before.’

His words, though well-meaning, were little comfort to Nesta. She would bear that regret for the rest of her life, that she could not stop Hybern destroying the Wall. There were lives on her hands because she had failed.

‘Nesta, if you not been Made fae, you would not have been in the war. The Wall still would have fallen. Stop carrying your regrets.’

It was easier said than done. It was the one opportunity Nesta had been given to prove herself worthy of being part of the Night Court and she had not met their expectations. They had all said it was not her fault, but their disappointment had been painted on their faces. Even Amren who had pushed her harder and harder each day, seemed to wash her hands of her after that moment, perhaps frustrated that her pupil had not succeeded.

 ‘A glamour,’ Tamlin murmured, fingers drumming on the wooden window sill. ‘I wonder…’

‘What?’

‘If we could just put a glamour over an area rather than a person?’

‘To make them just go home rather than approach the Wall?’

‘Yes, to make them think the forest will go forever on. And for those on our side who we don’t want to pursue mortals, something to make them turn around.’ There was a light in Tamlin’s green eyes, a sure sign that he was much better now. That he had hope in his life.

Nesta stood too, coming to stand beside him as if the answer to all of their problems lay out on the other side of the window. ‘Do you think it would work?’

‘Perhaps if the glamour could be woven into a spell.’

‘Like Helion can do? Almost like a ward to keep things out.’

‘Or keep them in, yes. I suppose so. The glamour would need to be powerful. I do not think my power alone would be strong enough.’

Nesta could see it – that same hope that had lit up Tamlin’s eyes was catching. ‘The high lords – and the high lady – all of you, working together, Helion could layer the glamours, weave it together into a spell like no other.’

With a shy voice, one she had never heard Tamlin utter before, he said, ‘I think it might work.’ 

***

‘You are out of your mind.’

Those were the damning words delivered by Rhys when Cassian proposed that Eris should have relative freedom in Illyria – or at least access to it. Nesta had helped him compile a water-tight list of advantages to allowing the Autumn Court male into Illyria before they’d departed from the Day Court. More of his soldiers could train alongside an Illyrian unit ready for the day Beron died and Eris assumed the mantle of high lord. His shared bond with Nesta meant he was likely an obstacle for Koschei so keeping him close, or providing a sanctuary in Illyria would benefit them. Further, Eris would know to keep his head down lest word from the wings of spies travelled back to his father.

‘He has access to the Hewn City. Why would I give him more room to spread his poison?’

Cassian had pussy-footed the root of the request. He screwed up his face, relenting finally.

‘Because he trains Nesta’s magic. They’re very close friends and… she is moving to Illyria.’

Surprise rippled across Rhys’ face. There was a long silence where Cassian could tell his brother was choosing his words carefully. He hadn’t considered whether he’d need Rhys’ approval; he’d taken it as a given that Nesta could come back to the Night Court. Finally, his high lord spoke.

‘That must mean a lot to you.’

Cassian broke into a grin. It meant everything to him. Soon, Rhys followed suit, his smile appearing as bright as the sun when he clapped an arm around Cassian’s broad back.

‘I’m happy for you both. And Illyria? Not Velaris?’

He shrugged. ‘She likes it there. Emerie and Balthazar are there. I think she’ll spend lots of time with Rovena, Marsela and the children. She said Illyria, I’m just a male who listens to his mate.’

For the sake of honesty, he told Rhys the other motivation to leave the Spring Court: that her magic could be volatile and Illyria was the best place to keep her, so to speak.

‘Tamlin’s not ousting her, is he?’

‘No, she said she’s thought about it for a while. Spring has been the making of her. Although I’m happy, it wasn’t an easy decision for her.’

Rhys nodded in understanding. ‘I think of spring as all flowers and softness. Maybe that was what Nesta needed. It certainly needed her.’ They settled back down at the table. There was a slight crease to Rhys’ brow as he gazed from the window. Cassian knew that face. He was pondering.

‘I have a proposition,’ he offered at last, hands clasping across his chest. ‘Eris may train Nesta in Illyria – but I would like to be present.’ Before Cassian could object, Rhys had held out a finger. ‘Eris will always take Nesta’s side – I’ll be the one outnumbered. I’d like to train her, but first see how she can manipulate her own magic.’

‘Fine. I’ll lay that offer on the table. In addition-’

‘More demands?’ Rhys said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘We’ll make a courtier out of you yet.’

‘I’d like Nesta to still be able to continue the fund. She can meet with Cresseida in Summer or Tamlin would not object to her occasionally popping by. Being idle doesn’t suit Nesta. Her mind is too clever to sit still.’

‘That it is,’ he agreed. ‘I have no issue with it. If that’s what she wants then fine.’

The stunned feeling that washed over him must have been reflected on his face, because Rhys laughed loudly. ‘I want what’s best for both of you – and for Feyre. She’ll be glad Nesta is back. And besides, it will be good to have you stationed in Illyria. There’s a lot of unrest, especially in the east towards the Steppes.’

‘Your wish is my command, high lord.’

The next few days passed in a flurry of activity. Feyre and Elain were both over the moon, with Feyre planning when she’d come to Illyria to see her sister. Az swept in to arrange Nesta meeting his mother and a dinner for the four of them as soon as possible. Mor had squealed with delight when he’d asked her to help him pick out things for the cabin to make it feel a bit more homely.

As they wound through the narrow, crowded aisles of one of the markets in Velaris, Mor had thrust more crockery at him, bedding, blankets, and towels. He had those items but they were old and only the bare minimum. She insisted it would not do. Cassian let Mor chatter away, narrating everything she was loading into his arms and why it was necessary. She made him touch different materials and sighed over how soft it was. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to Nesta returning, but she had seemed positive. And guilt throbbed in his gut because he had asked Rhys that he could be the one to let Mor know Eris would be a more frequent visitor to Illyria.

They stopped for a late lunch beside the shining Sidra. Mor tipped her face towards the sun, letting the golden beams wash over her. Males – and females – walking by had their attention drawn to her. She’d opted for a blush pink dress that stopped half-way up her thighs, heeled shoes, and her long, blonde hair fell in a wave down her back.

‘You have that look on your face that tells me you’ve done something wrong,’ she murmured, peeping out one of her eyes.

‘Because maybe I have, to you.’ Cassian winced. He’d never been one with words, not the way Rhys was. ‘Eris will continue training Nesta’s magic in Illyria. He’ll be coming every few days for a couple of hours.’

‘Oh.’

‘You won’t ever have to see him. He’ll only ever be allowed in Illyria on the set dates with me or Rhys there. He’ll winnow in to the Hewn City and we’ll bring him to and from Windhaven,’ Cassian prattled on.

‘Eris has really got his foot in the door now, hasn’t he?’ The tone was bitter. Mor’s face had hardened and she fought to hide the betrayal in her eyes when she looked at him. ‘And this is Nesta’s doing?’

‘No. I suggested it. All I want is my mate to be happy and safe. But I want the same for you, Mor.’

A waitress came carrying two dishes of salad, cold meats and bread rolls. It was perfect for the hot summer they were experiencing.

‘It’s fine,’ she said bluntly in a tone that suggested it was far from fine. ‘It’s not like I go to Illyria often. But if he comes to Velar-’

‘He won’t come to Velaris. He will not.’

Mor propped her chin up on a fist as she leant against the table. A passing breeze blew through her hair. ‘You love her so much.’

‘Of course I do. She’ll be my mate for the rest of my life. Honestly, if she wanted to stay in Spring and not be with me, I’d let her go. Her happiness matters more to me than the bond. I’d let her go.’ Cassian tore into a bread roll without any sort of manner or decorum, trying to make her laugh, but Mor’s brown eyes were riddled with regret. ‘Don’t give me that look, please. I know it must be weird with me and Rhys now mated. You and Az will find mates. Your mate will love you no mat-’

‘Cass, enough!’ Mor’s hands were trembling, a sheen of sweat had appeared over her brow.

‘Are you sick? You’ve suddenly gone pale.’

‘I just. I can’t hear about mates. I don’t want to hear it.’

***

The final day in the Spring Court had been spent viewing the monument built in Banhurst. It had been carved in the likeness of a tree but built from white, unyielding marble. The names of every person in the village who had died at Hybern’s hands had been etched into the stone so their memory would live on forever.

Nesta had held herself together for the unveiling of it though many around her cried in memory of those they had lost. It was on the ride back to the manor that she felt herself crying quietly in the saddle. How much of it was due to the village or due to her own impending departure, she wasn’t sure. It was the first time Nesta had chosen to leave somewhere; the first time the decision had been entirely in her hands. It was bittersweet to leave. She had changed, she had blossomed, but a spring could not last forever – and it was time to move on, to move forwards.

Whilst she packed the last of her belongins, Zasha lolled on the bed. He’d miss tearing through the gardens and destroying the flowerbeds, but in Illyria he’d still have rabbits and squirrels to chase after.

Cassian had sent word that he, Azriel and Rhysand would be arriving late that night. There was an issue in the Steppes, but they’d come soon after. There wasn’t time to argue that she didn’t want Rhys showing up again in Spring – especially not when she was soon to be part of his court again. She understood the reasoning; she, Zasha, plus all of her belongings would need to be winnowed, along with Cassian. It was too much to put on Azriel.  Nesta also had to keep in Rhysand’s good books if her and Tamlin’s plan to glamour was to be a success. The thought filled her with no joy at all.

Once everything was packed and neatly organised by the door, Nesta cried again. This wasn’t her. She blamed the pollen for making her eyes so watery. With a noise of frustration, she brushed her tears away. She wanted to leave. It had been her decision. That was the mantra she repeated to herself.

A hard knock at the door made her jump – and Zasha leapt out of sleep with a disorientated bark.

The high lord waited in the door way. ‘It is your last night,’ he stated. As if he did not want to ask it, he begrudgingly said, ‘Would you like to go for dinner? There is a nice place a few miles ride from here.’

‘Dinner? With you?’

Tamlin fought the urge to roll his eyes. A low grumble came from his chest. ‘Yes.’

‘Oh. If I must.’ It beat a dinner trying not to cry that nobody cared she was leaving she guessed. ‘Am I to dress nicely?’

‘Wear whatever.’ This time, he did roll his eyes. ‘Something nice if you want. The dress for Calanmai.’

‘What kind of you place are you taking me to?’

Nesta’s heart had started pounding remembering the night of Calanmai where she’d nearly staggered into the grove where Tamlin was about to take a female following Eris’ little trick.

‘It’s a place. There’s food. Be downstairs in ten minutes.’

The gruffness and quick temper was not something Nesta would miss. Still, she hurried to scramble through her neatly folded clothes and find the dress Eris had purchased for her months ago.

Happily, Nesta realised that she had gained weight since she’d last worn the gown. Her collar bones were no longer as sharp as the dress dipped down to her breasts. Her face was softer too and more inclined to smile. The skirts draped around her hips and along the floor, shining with light. She had forgotten how beautiful this dress was – and that if Cassian saw her in it now they were something more than reluctant acquaintances, he’d likely tear it from her body and throw her on the bed. That thought was enough to make her cheeks flush.

Before leaving her room, she adjusted the tulle cape covering her back and shoulders. The twinkling crystals had made her feel out of her comfort zone the last time she had worn it, but now Nesta felt like she deserved this pretty dress.

‘You’ll have to ride with me,’ Tamlin grunted, checking the saddle of the white stallion he’d selected as his new horse. ‘There’s no way you’ll be able to ride in the dress.’

‘You told me to wear this dress,’ she protested.

‘And it looks pretty but get on the horse.’

The blush of squirming embarrassment that she’d felt when thinking of Cassian pressing his lips to her breasts through the dress changed for one of anger. ‘I cannot get on this horse. It is too big and I am in heeled shoes. Usually, the nice stable boy helps me onto the horse.’

Nesta glanced around for the sweet boy who tended to the horses. He was not to be seen. As a matter of fact, there was nobody in the grounds. No sentries, no servants. They’d already gone home for the day and not a single one had said goodbye. The thought was like a stone in her stomach, threatening to break the dam of tears again.

‘Hold tight then.’  

Nesta did not have a chance to contemplate the gleam in Tamlin’s eye as he strode forwards and roughly hefted onto the horse as if she was no more than luggage.

‘I shall hope they poison your meal,’ she muttered. The high lord only laughed.  

***

‘Mor was pissed. She went a bit weird when I said that I’d do anything to make Nesta happy.’

Azriel raised a brow. ‘Weird how?’

‘Looked like she was about to throw up.’

Rhys laughed once, violet eyes scanning the sparring unfolding in front of them. They’d taken a surprise visit to Ironcrest after Az’s spies had caught wind of the early steps of another rebellion. There was a young male, ambitious and not afraid of defiance, who had become more vocal in the camp recently. He’d volunteered to spar first. They’d come to remind the camp who the high lord was, but to also keep an eye on the male to see how much trouble he could cause or how much loyalty he could instil.

‘Probably sick of listening to you wax poetic over Nesta.’

Cassian snorted. ‘We’ve all had to listen to “Feyre darling” it’s my turn.’

‘Nesta sweetheart,’ Az mocked in a good imitation of him. ‘The male’s a good fighter.’

He was – and he wasn’t boastful about it. If they could inspire a younger generation to not follow the attitudes of the camp lords, it could change the tide.

‘What have you learnt about him, Az?’

Azriel’s stare across Ironcrest was a mix of coldness and cruelty. ‘Little. He is a bastard. Father’s identity unknown.’

‘The mother?’

‘He’d go to war for her,’ said Azriel, voice carefully protecting the note of pride. ‘She cooks for the camp.’ 

‘Doesn’t seem the sort to incite a rebellion,’ Rhys murmured, covering his mouth with his hand.

No, Cassian knew this sort of male. It was him when he was younger; desperate to prove his worth, overlooked despite his skill. Devlon might have tried him with a siphon, but the lord of Ironcrest would not think a bastard worthy.

Cassian let his eyes flit to the next group of males readying themselves to spar. These ones were arrogant, leering as a female walked by with a younger sister holding her hand, despite the presence of their high lord. Kallon, the lord’s proud son was amongst them, sneering. Rhys gave him the signal to give the males hell in the ring.

‘Swords. Now.’

 ***

‘What do you mean you are lost? This is your own damn court.’

If riding pressed against Tamlin’s hard body wasn’t bad enough, he was now apparently lost in his own court. It was on the same level as being lost in a mosquito infested jungle with Cassian.

The horse had gone over the same bridge three times, despite Tamlin’s insistence he knew where he was going. The stallion plodded along sluggishly and Nesta had the distinct feeling that Tamlin was purposefully slowing the horse each time it began to increase to more than a trot.

‘Is this a weird way to spend time with me? Because I’m finding it quite disturbing.’ Nesta’s throat dried up. ‘Are you kidnapping me like you did to Feyre?’

‘What pleasure would that bring me?’

‘Do not say the word pleasure when I’m next to you on a horse. I’d really prefer not to get blood on my dress tonight.’

Tamlin shucked back his head in laughter that made birds dart from a nearby bush. ‘We’re nearly there.’

‘We were nearly there a long time ago,’ she muttered.

The horse kept on his steady pace over a hill towards the east and Nesta felt another prickle of annoyance when she recognised a lightning-struck tree they had passed earlier on the ride. What a perfectly, wonderful way to spend her final night in the Spring Court… trapped on a horse with its grouchy high lord wandering into nowhere. They had passed a village and he’d just ploughed on by it. Far, far in the distance there was another village, but Tamlin seemed content to roam around the grassy meadow.

The sun was beginning to set when he dug his heels into the horse’s flank to turn him around. ‘We can go back home now.’

The horse’s pace increased, trotting with vigour over the long grass so Nesta gripped the pommel of the saddle tightly. It was difficult to sit side-saddle, especially in the dress. She wasn’t confident that Tamlin would hold onto her if she started falling either.

‘Tamlin! There’s a fire!’

Nesta dug her nails into Tamlin’s forearm as their horse edged closer to the grounds of the manor. A fire blazed on the lawn as they approached. Her pulse throbbed in her neck. A lick of power started to crawl up her ribs, letting her know it was ready to fight. Had Koschei come?

The horse’s hooves flew and she gripped onto him tighter for support.

But as the manor house grew upon them, there was music in the air. Nesta could make out the strumming of a lute, voices singing along to a bawdy tune, a trio of fiddles accompanying the lute. The great bonfire burning had many fae gathered around it, drinks in hand. A huge banner had been strung up across the lawn between two trees.

Farewell Nesta!

As their horse came into view, the fae assembled broke into a big cheer. Nesta recognised them… the sentries and servants who’d been so distant and aloof in the last couple of days were there, as were their families and children. Two males with red hair stood to the side chatting amicably; one was dressed in a fine suit, the other looked more suited to the casual informality of the Spring Court and his golden eye whirred towards them.

No sooner had Tamlin lifted her down from the horse, did a small, golden haired girl race towards her and leap into her arms.

‘Nesta!’

Nuala’s face was flushed. She clutched a leather ball in her hand – so no doubt Zasha was close behind. A warm face nuzzled her neck and Nesta well and truly cried then.

‘I thought everybody was glad to see the back of me,’ she sniffed, not caring at the crowd who’d gathered around to watch her blub.

‘Speech!’ A sentry bellowed to a round of laughter.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, pink colouring her neck.

‘Tell Tamlin to crack open the good wine,’ Lucien called, which was met with another chorus of laughter.

‘Thank you for everything. This court is so special. I’m glad I was able to be part of it – if only for a short while. Thank you.’

Once the crowd had dispersed back to their merriment – and once Nuala had been let loose to thunder around the flowerbeds with the smokehound – she elbowed Tamlin in the ribs.

‘Dinner, huh?’

‘I drew the short straw. Keep Nesta away for an hour or two while this was set up.’

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh. ‘This is unexpected. I’m touched by it.’ There it was again, that knot in her throat which brought tears to her eyes.

‘Enjoy it,’ he said, tapping her on the shoulder. ‘You deserve it.’

The evening was a whirlwind of activity. The music played and played with the musicians never tiring. The songs were fast and sprightly, some with lyrics, some without. The crowd were happy to sing - even the grouchiest looking servants were dancing with their husbands or wives or had their arms slung around friends. Nesta let them do the same to her, to throw their arms around her shoulders to sing. She was laughing and picking up the chorus of the popular songs thet were played again and again. Even her shoes had been kicked off into a pile with others so she could feel the cool, spongy grass beneath her bare toes.

Lucien had taken Nesta for a dance, spinning her wildly and teaching her the steps. This court suited Lucien; he seemed freer here, teasing males, not caring who he danced with – elderly or young children – tossing his head back in laughter. They danced and danced before his elder brother had cut in and led her off to dance near the bonfire. Nesta and Eris hardly had chance to speak, the steps were so fast both were breathless from it. She was glad to see Eris smiling and laughing – Lucien too. A glance down confirmed that Eris had even tossed off his shoes and socks so he danced barefoot. His long, wine-coloured hair was tucked behind a pointed ear, and Nesta had never seen a male look so fae before.

‘You’re staring at me.’

‘You look so fae,’ she murmured, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

‘Because I am, Nesta,’ he smirked. ‘Come.’

Eris led her by the hand towards one of the flowerbeds. His hands on her shoulders stilled her. ‘There won’t be many opportunities for us like this in the Night Court. So tonight,’ he said, loosening her coronet so her hair tumbled down her back, ‘you are mine to command.’

‘Am I now?’

Eris plucked flowers and began weaving the stems together. ‘Yes.’

He said nothing else for a while, merely tapped his foot to the nearby music and continued weaving flowers together. ‘I have no sisters, but a mother who lost her own and longed for a daughter. And I am a son who longs to keep his mother happy.’

A flower crown was presented to her; it was made of dusty pink and purple flowers, their petals delicate curls. Nesta dipped her head so Eris could place it atop.

‘You are a good son,’ Nesta said. ‘And this is definitely not the first time you’ve made this from flowers.’

‘Anything for my mother,’ he said, laughing slightly.

‘Eris… Thank you for seeing me when everything felt hopeless. You never gave up on me when you had no binding to me. Thank you.’

A soft kiss was pressed to her forehead. ‘I command you to enjoy this night. To embrace it fully as one of the fae. To drink our wine, to dance until your feet ache, to sing until your throat bleeds.’

The best part of the night was when Aoife pulled Nesta into an embrace then promptly handed her a delightfully-plump Eimear so she could dance with her husband. The babe had doubled in size and had sprouted her two bottom teeth. A thatch of golden curls sat on her head. She gazed up at Nesta, blinking with wonder. A small hand tapped her mouth.

‘You don’t remember me,’ Nesta murmured, bouncing her against her chest. ‘But I was there when you were born.’

She kept Eimear on her hip as she said her goodbyes to the various servants and sentries she’d gotten to know during her time in Spring. It was sad and happy all at once. Nesta had lost count of the number of times she had been kissed on the cheek or pulled into a hearty embrace. Different fae fed her too, keen for her to try the dishes they’d made for the party. Although it was her leaving party, it felt like a party for all of Spring to celebrate a new era.

If Nesta thought the night might wind down, she was sorely mistaken. Tamlin had taken up a post with the band, playing the fiddle and Lucien had taken Lenka off for a dance. It was a slower one for the elderly female, but ever the gentleman, Lucien turned her and guided her all with a smile. He was perfect for Elain, Nesta decided.

There, in the shadows, on the boundary of the grounds, Nesta made out two large pairs of wings. She kept Eimear with her, bouncing the grizzly girl on her hip.

Cassian’s eyes devoured her body in the dress. He gave her such a heated look that had they been alone, Nesta might have let him take her against a tree.

‘Hello,’ she said in greeting to the three males.

‘That’s never Eimear,’ Cassian exclaimed, reaching to stroke the babe’s cheek, but she burst into anguished tears. She was tired and cutting a tooth.

Cassian dropped back, a guilty look on his face. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.

Eimear took one look at Azriel and cried harder, her red face pushing against Nesta’s skin.

‘I don’t think she likes the wings,’ Rhys said in a soft voice, touching a finger to Eimear’s pudgy hand. ‘Don’t cry. It’s okay. They’re just overgrown bats. Illyrian babies. There, it’s okay.’

 Eimear had raised her face slightly, eyeing Rhys with caution. Her cheek still pressed into Nesta’s neck, but her fingers had locked around one of the high lord’s.

Rhysand’s eyes flickered over the party, at the joy seeping from each person. The lilting music reached them, a fiddle ringing out above it all.

‘Is it a party for you?’

‘I didn’t know this would be happening,’ she explained, ‘or I would have said to leave tomorrow.’

‘Why don’t we come back in the morning and let you enjoy this then?’

‘You’ve already travelled here. It’s not fair to make you go back and return.’

‘It’s fine,’ Rhys reassured her, finger wiggling within Eimear’s to make her gurgle. ‘Enjoy your night, Nesta, and we’ll see you tomorrow.’

Not only had the high lord of the Night Court been pleasant to her, but he had even smiled as he stepped back into line beside Cassian and Azriel. Perhaps she should have armed herself with a baby at all times if that was what made the high lord go all soft.

Cassian came forwards to kiss her briefly, wincing slightly when Eimear’s bottom lip started wobbling.  

‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘You’re not staying?’

Cassian jerked his chin towards the party. ‘This is your night. Enjoy it, sweetheart.’  

I listened to a lot of celtic songs writing the party as well as Jaskier's songs from the witcher. I also listened to one of my favourite bands who are amazing live called IMT Smile so I'm gonna plug them here and here

[moonloredraws]

I just found your blog! Do you have a list of your setting’s gods, their names, and info about them? I’d love to learn about the gods related to those holy symbols :D

Hello and welcome!! Glad you've taken an interest in my lil homebrew setting, and since you're not the first person to ask, I guess it's time for me to make a CHUNKY post about all the info I have so far on my Setting's gods! Now, these are the most commonly worshipped MAIN gods of the setting, I also have other pantheons, and there are local smaller deities that different cultures have, but these 20 are just the main ones that can be found around Manala.

Please be aware that these are the pantheon for my world, you can take ideas but I'd appreciate it if you didn't copy them word for word, thank you in advance!! Let's see if a read more works

Oki doki! Let me copy and paste everything from my google docs that I have for the setting!

Satha, The Lady of Dawn

Alignment: Neutral Good

Domains: Light, Life

Names: Satha, The Lady of Dawn, The Matron of the Morning, The Grand Morrow

Holy Symbol: A ribbon tied around the rising sun

The Lady of the dawn, Satha, is seen as an incredibly gentle deity who eases in the morning light after the harsh uncertainties of deep night. Her followers describe her as gentle and comforting, and her blessings are said to feel warm and kind, and as if the gentle hand of a grandmother had soothed away their worries.

Satha generally appears and is depicted as a elderly woman, with long white braids held together by overly long yellow ribbons. She dresses herself in many layers of clothes, with several shawls, coats, jackets and all other manner of overclothes seeming to bundle her up, and she generally has a very cozy look. Her colours are yellows, oranges, and warm browns.

Kass, The Lord of Dusk

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Domains: Arcana, Trickery

Names: Kass , The Lord of Dusk , The Boy of the Stars, The Tricky Moon

Holy Symbol: A Star over the Setting Sun

The Lord of the Dusk, Kass, is a mischievous deity who’s presence is said to soothe the minds of those who fear the dark of the night. He has few followers, as the few who have come across him don’t know what to think of him, as his actions in front of mortals vary wildly from small pranks, to epic performances of song and dance, to straight up whisking someone away to a place they have never seen before. A select few understand these actions to be distractions, to get people to stop worrying about the horrors that nights on Manala can bring.

Few descriptions of Kass exist, and most of the time he is depicted as a youth, no older than 18, to no younger than 7. His actual appearance varies wildly, to having long brown unruly hair, to short curled locks of white, though one descriptor is a constant: He is always wearing an indigo vest of silver embroidered stars. His colours are said to be bright blues, silver and white.

Aramana, The Glow of the Day

Alignment: True Neutral

Domains: Light, War

Names: Aramana, The Glow of the Day, The Searing Sun, The Everlasting Blaze

Holy Symbol: A sword in front of the Sun

Aramana is the primal deity of the sun and it’s light. Many worship her with an intensity that rivals the shine of the sun itself, and though she is seen as a positive force by many, it’s only her most devout worshippers who know she is cruel in her indifference. Aramana is also seen as a deity of war, and many pray to her and drink toasts in her name before a hard battle. When she reaches out to individuals, she does so because their intense passion for the arts of war have caught her eye, and those blessed by her are most often non-magical generals of great kingdoms.

Aramana has not shown herself to many, as most mortal affairs do not faze her, but the few exceptional warriors who have seen her describe her as an incredibly tall woman with a heavy build, her face always obscured by her helmet, a golden tower shield in one hand, and a platinum greatsword in the other. Her armour is incredibly intricately carved and she has an aura of grandeur. Her colours are Gold, Blood Red and Maroon.

Shalis, The Soothing Night

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Domains: Knowledge, Order

Names: Shalis, The Soothing Night, The Wise Moon, The Hope of the Dark

Holy Symbol: a set of stars joined to form a crescent

Shalis has many followers in the far northern and far southern continents, where nights are long in the dangerous winters. Compared to his solar counterpart, Shalis is actually very invested in the lives of the mortals who inhabit the world of Manala, and his blessing has been received by many. His most zealous worshippers are researchers and sages who aim to gather as much knowledge to arm themselves against the unknown as possible.

Shalis has appeared numerous times in front of people, and each of the accounts has described him as looking the same. His physical form resembles that of an elven man. He has white long hair, slicked back and bewitching purple eyes. Under his simple navy overcoat he wears a white button up shirt, and black trousers and boots. The only sign that gives away his divinity is the glittering band of stars that seems to be drawn onto the skin of his neck. His colours are navy, dusty purple and black.

(Venn is the Avatar of Shalis!)

Haurak, The Roiling Sea

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Domains: Tempest, War

Names: Haurak, The Roiling Sea, The Lord of Storms

Holy Symbol: Two waves crashing away from each other

Haurak is generally known as a war-like god that inhabits storms. Many northern countries worship in hopes that their voices would dissuade his storms passing through their lands, though it never works. He is likened to a madman, thrashing and flailing, causing destruction in his wake. Barbarians and Raiders in the cold lands drink a brew known as “The Heart of Storms” before battle which causes them to go into a violent frenzy, and they lose themselves to the chaos of battle easier.

Haurak is seldomly seen, though when he is, this hulking pale grey figure, with a tall crown of interlocked antlers is described as wearing ragged pelts of greys and browns with completely white eyes, and seeing him is now seen as a bad omen, with many people immediately getting ready to flee the impending storms. His colours are cold browns and greys, and his worshippers wear ragged furs and torn cloaks.

Veranis, The Sweet Winds

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Domains: Nature, Trickery

Names: Veranis, The Sweet Winds, The Sailor’s Lover

Holy Symbol: Rippling water.

Veranis is the gentle god of the winds known mostly to the people inhabiting the warmer coastal areas in Manala. Veranis takes on many forms, and accounts of them vary, at times they take on a feminine form, other times a masculine form, though almost always fey-like with solid glittering emerald eyes. They are applauded for the gentle winds that allow for safe travel between ports, for the cooling winds on a hot day, and for providing good weather in general.

Veranis has been seen by a fair few people, though accounts of their appearance vary with their mood. They always have long straight brown hair, regardless of form, and their green eyes that have no pupil or iris are what they are recognized by. Their colours are spring green, yellow, brown and white. They are the twin of Tharanis.

Tharanis, The Tempest Winds

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Domain: Grave, Tempest

Names: Tharanis, The Tempest Winds, The Whirlwind, The Death Winds

Holy Symbol: A Whirlpool

Tharanis, unlike their twin Veranis, is the god of deadly winds, tornadoes and hurricanes known to the peoples of the warmer regions of Manala. Just as there must be good weather, so must there be storms, and they are often said to be fighting their twin, trying desperately to tip the scales of the winds either way. Few worship Tharanis, and for good reason, their worship grows their power and produces more storms. The few cults who do worship this god usually vie for the destruction and “cleansing” of the world.

Tharanis has not taken on a mortal form before, but descriptions from Veranis describe them as a very gaunt looking figure of ambiguous gender, wearing a mess of sheer overlapping fabrics that never cease to stop moving, with eyes of solid black. Their colours are Blue, Grey and Black.

Kerk, The Bladeforger

Alignment: Lawful Good

Domains: Forge, Order

Names: Kerk, Bladeforger, Steel’s Fire

Holy Symbol: A hand grasping the hilt of a blade

Kerk is the patron of blacksmiths and crafters of blades. Many forges have a holy symbol hanging over their front door, and many smiths pray to him before they start their work day, in the hopes that their work will go smoothly and come out as good as possible. His more devout worshippers build temples near volcanoes in the hopes that their god would be able to hear them better, as he is said to have built his Star Forge where “The Ground spills itself out from inside The World”, and as such, Volcanoes are said to be his holy sites.

Sightings of Kerk have been rare in modern times, but many who have seen him describe the god as being extremely tall in their physical form, with cracked skin through which a molten core seems to move around. He has a bald head and a dark complexion with soft golden eyes, and he is describes as being very kind and patient, teaching his techniques to a few exceptional mortals. His colours are Gold, Orange, Brown and Black

Harme, The Whisper of Words

Alignment: Chaotic Evil

Domains: Knowledge, Trickery

Names: Harme, The Whisper of Words, The Spiller of Secrets

Holy Symbol: A pair of open lips with stitch marks

Harme embodies all the dirty secrets people keep, and is the main reason why “politician” is a bad word. He latches onto people’s insecurities and comforts them until secrets are spilled, which he then goes around and plants into the hands of the wrong people. He is the patron of criminal masterminds and relishes in the feelings of despair as people’s worst secrets come to the surface.

Harme does not have a physical form, he only appears as a disembodied voice, and often a flick of shadow from in the corner of one’s eye. His associated colour is black.

Mourne, The Gravekeeper

Alignment: True Neutral

Domains: Grave, Nature

Names: Mourne, The Gravekeeper, The Inevitable

Holy Symbol: A yew sprig with berries

Mourne is a peaceful god, who’s symbol is always carved into the entry arches of graveyards. Across all of Manala, she is worshipped by all who want to have a peaceful passing. Many pray to her in times of plague, to be spared, and if not, that their ends should come swiftly and painlessly. Though she is unaligned, she is seen as a benevolent goddess of death with no desire to cause suffering to bring the inevitable to the present. She abhors undead, as they go against the natural order of the world. “If you do not die, then you stop new life arriving” is a mantra said by many priests and graveyard keepers. She is the god who is seen most commonly in Manala.

When the dead and those who have had near death experiences all describe Mourne as a willowy woman wearing exquisite black robes with white embroideries of various plants. Her physique is much akin to a mummy, her skin pulled over her skull and hands tightly, though most of the top of her face is obscured by a lace veil. Her colours are White and Black, though sometimes her worshippers wear the greens and reds seen on yew trees.

Lailanne, The Mother

Alignment: Neutral Good

Domains: Knowledge, Life

Names: Lailanne, The Mother, The Hearthfire

Holy Symbol: hands crossed over, palms up

Prayers to Lailanne come from all over, since there is a multitude of people wanting a happy home, and safe births. She watches over people having familial troubles and her blessings soothe over and worries parents may have for their children. She takes care of children, and is often seen by small children who she has saved from a spot of trouble, be it stopping them from getting lost in a forest or eating poisoned berries, to stopping potential kidnappings.

To most people she appears as a dishevelled new mother, slightly tired looking but always glowing with an unnatural light. Every person who sees her in this form always gets this feeling that she looks like their own mother. Often, though, she walks through the streets of towns, in various forms that fit the situation, keeping children out of trouble. Often the children do not realize they were helped out by a god until they look back one day, when they’re with their families, and remember the strange glow from a woman who helped them. She does not have specific colours associated with her, but she is always seen with brightly coloured clothes.

Reike, Bringer of Love

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Domains: Arcana, Light, Trickery

Names: Reike, Bringer of Love, The Sweet Kiss

Holy Symbol: An Eye within a star

Reike works in strange ways, a chaotic force that blesses new lovers, often sowing seeds of feelings between people who should not conceivably develop these for each other, but Love works in strange ways. Not much is known about this mysterious god, but many know that she’s up to no good, making people fall in love with anything conceivable. If someone has an obsession that takes hold of them suddenly, the blame often falls on Reike. She acknowledges that love comes in different forms, and for different people and things, so she’s known for being quite creative with where she uses her powers.

The descriptions of Reive vary wildly save for the incredibly long rose gold locks she wears in various styles, and her clothes are always impeccable in terms of their quality. She often appears to incredibly lonely people and personally blesses them with something they will end up loving, be it another person, a hobby or craft, or a place. Her colours are Gold, Pink, Red and White.

Yemek, The Shepherd

Alignment: Neutral Good

Domains: Life, Nature

Names: Yemek, The Shepherd, The Farmer

Holy Symbol: A Stalk of Wheat

Yemek is the god that the shepherds and farmers revere and pray to in hopes of good harvests, easy births, and luck in avoiding famines and plagues. Not much is known of the god, and few outside of farming communities pay him any mind, so any temples to this god are small things, often at crossings on roads and in fields.

No person who has seen Yemek knew that he was a god, as he shows up with very plain clothes, the only thing that can give him away is his boundless wisdom and knowledge on techniques to keep crops alive, and where the best pastures are. His colours are forest greens and browns.

Thane, The Dragonslayer

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Domains: Knowledge, War

Names: Thane, The Dragonslayer, The Beastslayer

Holy Symbol: A sword passing through scaled skin.

The patron of monster hunters across the whole of Manala, Thane is most often prayed to by adventurers about to go in for a very dangerous attack against a dangerous foe, in the hopes that they would be blessed with a killing blow and that their companions would not fall in battle. Thane, though war-like in his essence, praises strategy and being aware of your prey’s weaknesses and strengths before making any moves. His doctrines encourage that anyone looking to slay a foe be well informed on everything they can glean before charging to battle.

Thane has sometimes been seen by bands of adventurers after slaying a particularly powerful or dangerous beast, having performed a service for humanity. Thane always appears as a seasoned adventurer, with a collection of weapons and well worn armour, but his face is always obscured by a helmet of some kind.

Sherbhek, They of Many Eyes

Alignment: Neutral Evil

Domains: Grave, Knowledge

Names: Sherbhek, They of Many Eyes

Holy Symbol: Five eyes in a cluster

Sherbhek is the patron of necromancers, often encouraging particularly strong necromancers to continue on their chosen unholy path by blessing them directly. Many places of unholy power arise from worship of this twisted deity. They like seeing the natural order of the world torn asunder and changed into a shadow of it’s former self.

When they appear, they are described as having a vaguely humanoid form, with robes of green and black, and though the bottom half of their face is vaguely normal, the top half of their head is just an amalgamation of eyes, all moving independently of each other. Their colours are Black and Green

Ianti, The Forest Lord

Alignment: True Neutral

Domains: Nature

Names: Ianti, The Forest Lord, The Wolf God, The Panther King, The Black Tiger, The Mane

Holy Symbol: An Oak Leaf with an Acorn

Little is known about this god who roams the places most untouched by civilization. He often stops advances by civilization in an attempt to preserve exceedingly important natural places, and he is known to become incredibly aggressive if his words are ignored.

In his physical form, Ianti changes to fit his surroundings, wearing the skins of the animal at the top of the food chain. When enraged, he shifts into a giant form of the animal and hunts down those who purposefully ignored his words. His colours are Greens and Yellows.

Elestra, The Lady of the Mountain

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Domains: Arcana, Tempest

Names: Elestra, The Lady of the Mountain, The Snow Woman.

Holy Symbol: A single peak in front of the crescent moon

Elestra is a mysterious god, mainly due to the fact that she answers to no prayers, and that she acts erratically when seen. She is one of the deities who has a habit of appearing often in front of mortals, and she is known for appearing in front of single mountaineers who are lost. She would ask the mountaineers to join her, if they refused, they were left to die of frostbite, and if they joined her, they would be whisked away to an opulent cave home. Few would be able to leave, she would keep them there forever, those who did manage to escape don’t recall how they did so, and it must have been the luck of the ages that befell them that they would be able to escape.

Though she does not answer blessings, which makes people believe that she is just an incredibly powerful spirit than a deity, there are those who believe that she can bless them to stop them getting lost in the mountains.

Elestra is always described the same way, human looking, with white hair and electric blue eyes, dressed in warm brown furs, with climbing gear at her side. Her colours are Browns and Blues.

Shix, The Golden Sands

Alignment: Lawful Good

Domains: Life, War

Names: Shix, The Golden Sands, The Dragon King, He of Gold Scales

Holy Symbol: A Gold Dragon Facing forward with 8 crown-like horns.

Shix is the patron deity of all metallic dragons, and all dragonborn, despite their colour. He is said to be a giant hulking Gold Dragon with horns that resemble a crown atop his head. Like the dragons that are said to have descended from him, he is a paragon of justice and is always fighting all sorts of evil, but most often stories of him depict him fighting Vuhz, the patron of all chromatic dragons.

Clerics and Paladins of Shix believe that it is always worth fighting for hope and justice even in the face of overwhelming evil, and will keep fighting even when it seems that all hope is lost. There are no documents describing what Shix looks like asides from his horns, and there are no records left of anyone having seen him in person. His associated colours and white and gold. (Elerath is the Avatar of Shix!)

Vuhz, The Diamond Scaled One

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Domains: Trickery, War

Names: Vuhz, The Diamond Scaled One, The Rainbow Serpent

Holy Symbol: A dragon coiled in on itself into a knot

Vuhz is the demonic dragon deity that is patron to all chromatic dragons. She feels that she has been robbed of her station as primary deity of all dragons, and is in a fierce never-ending battle to dethrone Shix and claim her place as the ultimate dragon. Her body is not that of a true dragon, she is incredibly long, has one pair of wings and 3 pairs of legs, and looks more like an amalgamation of a dragon, centipede and lindwurm. She has white iridescent scales, and two long horns that sweep back elegantly, but far too many teeth for any mouth.

Vuhz does not have a proper clergy, but more clever individuals will pretend to be clerics of another deity and infiltrate the ranks, often corrupting the priesthood from the inside, before moving on to new places to sow dissent and chaos in other places. Because of how Vuhz looks, any and all colours are associated with them, and their clergy wear what they wish.

Thalia, The Muse

Domains: Light, Arcana

Names: Thalia, The Muse, The Inspirer

Holy Symbol: A ribbon laced around a curled piece of paper

Thalia is the Goddess of the Arts on Manala. She is said to be the fountain of inspiration that feeds into everyone’s creative pursuits. Many Artists, Musicians, Actors, Bards and all other manner of creative person usually worships Thalia, though her worship comes in many forms. Most people simply dedicate a piece or two towards the Goddess, since her official clergy do not ask for any active worship, and simply ask that people create to make her happy.

Thalia takes on many forms, typically feminine but is also known to take on more masculine forms, it depends entirely on who has encountered her, as she takes on the forms most inspiring to them. She has no set associated colour, but most agree that dedicating bright colours to her makes her most pleased.

---- That's that for the main gods of the Prime Material Plane! In addition to these I also have the Everwild and Shademurk (the Manala version of the Feywild and the Shadowfell) but those ones yet don't have holy symbols, and the Shademurk ones are a work in progress because I only have like... 6 gods? Yeah there needs to be more. I'm able to answer more questions, just ask! Or you can have a look at my D&D sideblog @cantrollthatperfect20 of the tag #The World of Manala!

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (arranged marriage Au)

Part 1 is here, finally! Title a reference to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Read it on Ao3 HERE

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

Vesemir’s slap hit Geralt firmly on the back of the head. Two seconds previously Geralt had been complaining about his upcoming, politically motivated marriage to some nobleman’s son. 

“It’s a good thing, lad. Other witcher schools would kill for something like this,” he said. Geralt knew it was right, legal punishment for those who shortchanged or attacked witchers. It set a precedent, and apparently the earl was very influential. It could change things.

“And there isn’t a fidelity clause,” Eskel said. “It doesn’t have to be more than a sort of partnership.”

“No consummation requirement either,” sniggered Lambert from the other side of the campfire. “You don’t even have to fuck the bugger if he’s ugly.” This earned him a sharp elbow from Eskel. 

“What I don’t understand is what they get out of this,” Geralt said. It had been bugging him. 

“Ah,” Vesemir said, looking uneasy. “It seems that the payment is...taking the viscount off of the Earl’s hands, officially. It seems he’s something of an embarrassment.”

The unease in Vesemir’s voice was subtle, but after so many decades with their teacher, the wolves of Kaer Morhen knew the slight variations of tone and expression. His discomfort was twofold, first, the obvious implication that the Earl was sending his son to live a dangerous life alongside a witcher in order to...deal with him. A death sentence, from father to son. The second was that Geralt, already saddled with a political marriage, was also to be saddled with a nuisance of a husband. 

“But why me?” Geralt knew he was whining like a child, but he couldn’t help it. It was three days to Lettenhove, and then they’d be there at least a week for the wedding and he’d have to act courtly. 

He wasn’t good at courtly.

When he thought about it none of them were. 

“It couldn’t have been me,” Eskel said, a little shyly. He was right. Eskel believed his scars were horrible, made him unlovable and undesirable. Geralt didn’t buy it, but nobles could get a bit stroppy about appearances. And if they humiliated Eskel because of his scarring...no, Geralt wouldn’t let that happen.

“Couldn’t have been me,” Lambert said, mouth full and rather cheerfully. No. It couldn’t have been him either, no manners and no filter, they’d be at war with the entirety of Lettenhove within a day.

“And I’m an old man,” Vesemir said. He didn’t actually wink, but he might as well have. Older though he was, he was still three times the warrior of any young human man walking about these days. But from what Geralt had heard, and it hadn’t been much, the Viscount was young, not quite twenty, and it wouldn’t be kind to marry him to someone so much older than himself. Geralt reflected grimly that he was nearly four times the youth’s age.

Three days of riding passed far too quickly for Geralt’s liking.

Chateau de Lettenhove loomed. It was a fairytale castle built by a man expecting a siege. There were high, rising towers with huge windows and artful buttresses, but to the trained eye of the witchers, it was a fortress. The towers had carved, decorative arrow slits, the windows all had iron grates over them, wrought like lace, and the buttresses could be easily used as defensive positions. All in all, it was a castle that growled, albeit genteelly.

They were greeted first by a footman, and then a line of servants increasing in rank, until a very snobby servant, likely the head housekeeper from the way all the maids scuttled away from her, brought them to an anteroom. At this point courtesy dictated that she bade them sit down on one of the lavish sofas. She did not. She chose instead to turn up her nose and sweep away.

The four witchers remained standing, not looking at one another. Geralt could feel Lambert stewing about the obvious slight beside him. He reached out, still staring straight ahead, and tweaked Lambert’s ear. 

This was about to result in much brotherly retribution and probably a brawl when the housekeeper returned, followed by another woman.

“His lordship the Earl of Lettenhove is attending to vital business,” the housekeeper said, tone of voice implying that the arrival of four witchers who were muddying her nice clean floor were certainly not vital. “I present, her ladyship, Countess Amaria Elizaveta de Lettenhove.” 

The countess curtsied, it was a polite little bob, and she smiled a little dazedly as the witchers all gave their best attempt at courtly bows. A small but significant part of Geralt’s brain was panicking, and it dealt with this new form of terror by imagining that the school of the wolf, seen from the outside plying their newly practiced bows, must look like a line of seagulls vying for a dropped crumb.

Vesemir stepped forward and, in a rather more suave gesture than Geralt had been expecting, took the Countess’ hand and bowed over it. Two bows seemed excessive to Geralt, but since it seemed to indicate that Vesemir would be taking over the speaking for now, he certainly wasn’t about to bring it up. 

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Vesemir said, straightening and releasing her hand. “May I introduce the school of the wolf. Eskel is--”

The countess had waved a limp hand. “Plenty of time for that at the feast, deary,” she said, smiling dreamily. There was something in her eyes that was a little absent, possibly more than a little if her calling Vesemir ‘deary’ was anything to go by. Geralt looked the countess over. He had been given to understand through the brief letters from the Lettenhove estate, that this wasn’t the viscount-Julian, the letters said-’s mother, but rather his step mother. She was a petite lady with mousy hair and rather absent blue eyes. Her dress was obviously of very fine material, rose pink and probably silk, although Lambert would know better than him, but a simpler cut than Geralt had expected. 

His examination, done in a split second, decided that she wasn’t an immediate enemy, but probably not a terrible useful ally. 

“I’m to give you this courting gift,” here she proffered a small but beautifully carved wooden box. “And to show you to your quarters.” She smiled again, and it was warm, but still vapid.

“Custom usually dictates that the fiancé give the courting gift,” Vesemir said, cautiously taking the box.”

“My husband wanted someone else to present it,” she said. “But your grandson can give his gift in person when he meets Julian. Now what...” she trailed off, not even noticing Vesemir’s slight sputter at grandson. “Ah yes, your rooms, right this way please.”

She got lost on the way to their rooms and a shaking footman showed them up to a suite, then kindly took her by the hand and led her away.

They sat, silent, in the nice but not lavish quarters. Four beds in curtained alcoves off to the side, and in the middle a room with a table and chairs, and a sofa and more comfortable chairs in front of a fireplace. It was already blazing and the witchers stared into it for a minute.

“That was strange,” Eskel finally said, and the others just nodded.

“Should I have insisted on giving her our courting gift?” Geralt said after another pause. “I thought they were usually given in person.”

“I think you’re fine,” Vesemir said. “If they broke that tradition they can hardly fault you for doing the same.”

Lambert, sprawled across the sofa, said, “When’s dinner?”

“I think I’m supposed to meet Julian first,” Geralt said. “Someone will probably come get us. 

“When we meet Julian you mean,” Lambert said, sitting up. 

“No, I’ve been thinking about that and I want to meet him alone.”

Vesemir nodded, “Sensible, we don’t know how he will react to one witcher, let alone four.” Then he smirked, although not unkindly, at Lambert. “You will be introduced and have a chance to be nosy later. At dinner perhaps.”

They unpacked their belongings, potion bottles and swords looking out of place along the old but nicely carved furniture. After days of tension on the road as Geralt wound himself tighter and tighter with anxiety for his...wedding, yes his wedding, now this pause was jarring. Eskel tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a look.

Geralt turned around to give Eskel room to work.

On the Path, witchers are rarely, if ever touched. Certainly not in a friendly way if the other isn’t being compensated. It wasn’t therefore, unusual for the wolves of Kaer Morhen to be tactile with one another. Not hugging and cuddling sweetly, but rough housing and wrestling ending in exhausted dog piles. But Eskel had a gift, he had magic hands, literally and figuratively, and he carefully oiled his hands while Geralt took off his travel stained shirt. 

Geralt sunk into himself, half meditating as Eskel dragged the tension from his shoulders and beat the knots from his muscles. It wasn’t a relaxing massage, but it always left him feeling like liquid, if slightly bruised. When it was over and the liquid feeling had left him, or at least subsided enough that his knees could hold him, he stood, clapping Eskel on the shoulder in thanks.

Then came the hard bit.

Geralt needed to be courtly. He scrubbed the bits he could with water and a cloth from a little washstand, but he hoped he could have a hot bath later. Afterwards Vesemir advanced on him and battled the dirt from underneath his fingernails with a stiff brush before attacking his hair with a comb. Geralt sat on the ground like a child, his brothers looking on in amusement as Vesemir sat behind him on the couch and teased the tangles from his hair. He was making faces, he knew, but Vesemir wasn’t gentle, and he hadn’t detangled his hair in some time.

Scrubbed raw, with his hair floating around his shoulders like a silver cloud, Lambert presented him with a doublet. 

It was black, which was good.

That was the only good thing about it. It was most likely a very nice, extremely fashionable doublet. Lambert might take delight in embarrassing Geralt, but he didn’t mess about with clothing. The issue was that it was attention grabbing, it was subtle in a way that seemed to play itself down while actually drawing every eye. It was black, in the same way a raven’s wing was black, every shimmering shade shifting as the fabric moved.

And he would be wearing it. 

He did wear it. 

His hands shook as he buttoned it up. 

He was just examining himself in a slightly tarnished hand mirror when there was a sharp knock at the door. The footman let himself in right after and bowed swiftly. 

“I am to escort the witchers of Kaer Morhen to meet Lord Julian.”

“Just the one witcher,” Geralt said. Vesemir pressed his courting gift, and the little carved boxed nestled on top, into his arms.

The footman didn’t seem to care and simply turned away, leading Geralt through hallways that all looked the same and down two very winding staicases, the second of which was so narrow his shoulders actually brushed the walls. They stopped outside a plain wooden door. The footman bowed and smiled. It looked, Geralt couldn’t help but feel, rather cruel. Then he left. Geralt knocked softly on the door, feeling very large in the narrow, low ceilinged hallway.

Eskel had told him once of a myth he had read, about a beast, half man half bull, hidden away in a maze. Geralt felt like such a beast, too large and rough and probably going to barge in and do everything wrong.

“Come in.” 

It was soft, but not nervous, and Geralt pushed open the door. 

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

Oooh I’m naughty for leaving it there, but it’s almost 2000 words already. @llamasdumpsterfire here it is at last, I hope it lives up to expectations.

[magnetothehedgehog]

Dimension’s Ridge Announcement!

Hi everyone, With all the rise in Sonic media and the great releases coming up, such as The New sonic game in 2022,the sonic movie 2, sonic prime, and literally anything Idw has been releasing including their new side series “Imposter syndrome”, I am challenged to up my game and release information on my long running project in the works. Especially Since sonic prime and Idw is literally gonna blow out all the spoilers before I do if I don't start releasing stuff first. Since its been happening constantly, I gotta be a step ahead.

So, without further ado, I introduce you to the World of Dimension's Ridge.

Dimensions Ridge is My personal Alternate Universe that seeks to combine all aspects of sonic media. In fact, its super similar to the upcoming Sonic prime, archie and Idw Comics in this regard, with it possibly being a bit more ambitious, or at least equally as ambitious as Idw.

The Series will follow a number of favorite canon and non canon characters alike, but will also their universal counterparts and alternate universe selves.

The Main overarching plot line is that a Existence level Threat is putting everything in jepoardy. This Creature Known as an Existence Eater spreads its influence to a planet by releasing its minions into it, then after enough time, it comes to absorb the planet, thus erasing it from existence entirely, as if it had never been there in the first place. This has been happening for quite a while, until a few people caught onto it. They began leaving messages and warnings to others in a attempt to save them.

Being an existence level threat, this will take the combined effort of every Version of Sonic,Tails,Sally, Eggman and everyone else if they want anything to be left in the multi-verse. This Story is about how they all come together to do just that.

However that is the main plot. The story follows many minor or sub plotlines and stories that all connect and weave into this ultimate narrative. For Stories featuring Sonic and friends, Stories start off in the classic area and work their way into the modern area as the characters develop and mature, so we get to see and live their journey alongside them. For older characters and parents, I wanted them to have a  more staple involvement in the series, even if only at the beginning. Their Adventures as the World slowly slips into chaos can be read in War on Mobius.

While there are Prequels to the beginning of the story, such as the “Rift War.”, the main storylines that kicks off all the other starts is one of my current productions “War on Mobius.”This follows the economical and political collapse following the Recent End of The Rift War and begins the Egg Empire's rise to Power.I would like to mention that The Egg Empire Now consists of the collective versions of Eggman all working together as a family. Egg Fam for short. But we have Great additions such as boom eggman, Ova Eggman, Aosth Eggman, Satam Eggman, Russian Eggman,Eggette, and a few custom additions such as Omelette and Scramble.

Things That happen in War on Mobius will be seen effecting or influencing the states of things in my Classic Era Story “Classic adventures.” and others ones such as “The Freedom Fighters.”

Alongside canon appearances of less known or scrapped characters and designs, such as Tiara and Honey the Cat, Readers can expect appearances of my own characters, both as counterparts to main characters, and also as people who drive the story forward and show interesting and dynamic opinions of their changing world. A few Such ones would be “Tribal Ties” Focusing on the Tribes of Echidnas, Bayblonians and Pangolins Tribes, all of which play a part not only in Mobius history, but also will play a vital part in its future.

After Classic adventures, comes one of my long running claims to fame and a personal favorite of mine from my early script writing days. Zone Runners. This takes place after the Events of Classic adventures and as the world has been influenced by the political unrest in War on Mobius. It follows the Group of People on the East Side of the World as they try to fight back against the Egg Empire, Newly risen Oscillators Group, and The Very lack of Sonic and Freedom Fighter there. This series will also begin unraveling some of the mysteries behind the existence eater and the ultimate narrative. Originally this concept came from the Fleetway comics, and ever since I've been completely inspired to incorporate this into my own series. If anyone was ever on Sonic Amino, they might have seen me post things related to it back in the day.

I also wish to be a more character focused series as a whole, one who focuses on the people collectively as opposed to just Sonic himself. I want it to as if each character us actually a main character and can save the day, and that the day is only won because everyone has done their part, whether powerful or powerless.

To that End, I have many characters stories intertwine, or lead to one another. Some characters will have branching off stories, while others will be closely intertwined, and always interact with each other, regardless of who the story is currently focusing on.

A few I'd like to notable mention is, Shadow's Ark, Silvers Sanctuary, and Heir of Sol. Focusing on the characters Shadow, Silver, And Blaze Respectively.

While I have a lot of other Titles for the stories respectively, I'd just to touch on a few more before I close.

Worlds collide finally answers the question in sonic media about two planets and the dimensional connundrum of sonic rush and sonic 06. While also bringing together multiple characters who were on their own paths, for the collected purpose of setting up how everyone will be needed much later.

Dimension Forces is, a reimagined Version of Sonic Forces, including a whole new team of villains to take on the heroes from our prior stories. I call them: Forever Force. The Main Three Hitters Being the Villains Infinite, Eternity, And Enigma. In this Story we'll get to see Whispers team in action, and also get to see new stories involving Gadget and His Brother Widget, and a host of other rising heroes soldiers and returning cast members.

I also had this Idea that the wisps were able to use their abilities on their own, except in smaller weaker versions then when they had a mobians help.Thus you could call in drill air strikes and other things to help you in battle, and the flew alongside you rather than in containers. I had these idea way long ago, but what do you know Idw beat me to the punch again in rise of the wisps. However I would just like to say before they do it too, that I had the idea of the wisps combining their powers, as if anyone played Sonic simulator, you would know you can actually combine wisp powers. If its the same type, its twice as strong with a bonus effect. If its different, you can combine the strengths of two different powers. Think how eggman used cube with laser in the boss nega wisp armor.

Speaking of Sonic Simulator! Thats another Story I have plans for. Following alongside the events of Sonic colors, Sonic simulator follows the group of hedgehogs abducted from Mobius and sent to eggman's interstellar amusement park as part of an organic experiment to take out sonic. Suggested by The Leader of the Oscillators, These hedgehogs will now have to work together to prove their worth to Eggman and as worthy adversaries of Sonic! But what of their past memories? What will happen if they remember? And if they do, can they escape? Find out! Also its follow up story leads to sonic lost world.

I'd also like to talk about the Idw Verse Mini series I have been working on! Getting Art from the Talented CatRage and getting to voice my Ideas to My Friends as well as My sister, I present my own Miniseries! Mimic's misadventures!

This story takes place between  the events of Idw's Bad guys, and follows mimic's operations and struggles as he tries to complete his missions, and deal with people of similar caliber to himself. Will this mercenary manipulate his way easily out of another situation? Or has the Octopus finally met the one group who will send him back to the ocean? Find out!

Currently, this miniseries has 5 canon issues and one undecided.

1.Ghost Of The North.

2.Into the Spiders Nest

3.Hunt is on

4.Jaws of a Predator

5.Belly of the Beast

undecided: 6.Seaside Escapade.

Currently I am writing the script for Part 1 of Ghost of the North and hope to finish up the Audio drama reading for it soon.

So this is all the stuff I've had in production for the past few years! Along with my co writer Pinky heart.

Please, Please! Reblog or retweet this. It would mean the world to me. Also please! Ask as many questions as you'd like. I'll answer as many as I can, and would love to hear everyone's thoughts and opinions, as well as questions and inquires involving the series.

[ask-those-dumbasses]

Mob Masterpost

I’ve gotten many asks about the mobs in this world, and I figured I might as well list them since there are a good chunk I removed, as well as custom lore for some. These will probably be paired with pictures one day, we’ll see. 

Passive Mobs  

Bat 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Cat

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Axolotl 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Chicken 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Fox

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

All the fish (and more) 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Turtle

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Cows 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Horses / Donkeys 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Skeleton Horses (not zombie ones they freak me out)

- Literally just the skeleton of a horse nothing interesting here 

Pig

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Parrot 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Sheep 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Rabbit

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Mooshroom / Moobloom 

- Mooshroom exist as they do in game

- Mooshroom are found around massive dead trees in damp forests. They can also be found in mushroom biomes 

- In flower fields are a subspecies of Mooshroom, the Moobloom - which have many different varieties depending on the flower (but there are mainly yellow ones) 

- Mooblooms co-regulate with bees 

- Mooshrooms just need to break down dead plants for nutrients.  

- Mooblooms just need sunlight and water 

Striders 

- Co-regulate with Piglins, who keep them safe. In return Striders are a popular form of transportation (very big) to get around the large lava lakes in the Nether. 

- Eats the mushrooms and plant life of the nether (the plant’s spores stick of their bodies and travel to grow and shit).

- They can easily swim through lava using their big, duck-like webbed feet.  

- They get too cold and freeze up if they’re outside of lava for too long.  

- Strider babies like to ride on their parents backs. 

__________________________

Neutral Mobs 

Goat

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Dolphin

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Piglin

- Already done 

Panda 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Polar Bear 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Wolf 

- exist as they do in real life (no art needed) 

Bee 

- Most are just normal bees like in real life  

- There are, however, rare large square bees-like creatures that roam around the world. These creatures only attack when attacked, and can be tamed to ride on by people (think like Appa from Avatar).

- They can mentally control other, smaller bees if they desire (think like the Alphas in HTTYD2) 

- Every 10 years; there is a small chance of seeing The Elegant White Beefly/ The Queen bee and other rare bees flying around. 

(CONCEPT ART PROVIDED BY LLEN_BEE)

Endermen 

- These are void creatures that are made by the Enderdragon 

- They have no real thoughts or will of their own and are not considered to be fully conscious or aware. 

- They are a collective hivemind under the command of the Enderdragon 

- It’s rumored that the Enderdragon sees through their eyes. When Endermen fly into rages due to making eye contact with people, it’s said that’s the Enderdragon, trying to exact her revenge on humanity.

Iron Golem

- Iron Golems are man-made guardians/ machines built to protect villages and trader outposts from monsters at night. 

- They’re considered to be gentle giants, only attacked when they’re provoked. They’ve even been known to pick flowers to give to children as a gift.

- They are, however, extremely powerful and bulky, and are not to be casually messed with. 

__________________________

Hostile Mobs 

Zombies & Skeletons (They're basically the same thing)

- Literally just dead people idk what to tell you 

Drowned 

- Literally just Water Dead People™  

Spider (only cave ones) 

- Literally just extra big spiders that live in caves congratulations

Creeper

- They’re a conscious mass of moss / plant life.  

- They spread their spores by exploding near living things and attaching the seeds to those things. The seeds grow from these. This is why it is important to clean your clothes well after encountering one. 

Elder Guardian + Guardians

- These are ancient magical sea creatures that were made by the gods. They were made to guard Sea Temples from outsiders. 

- Guardians watch over the outside and most of the inside under the Elder Guardian’s command. 

- The Elder Guardian's eye can cause time to slow for the person whose gaze it lands on. After tests it has been confirmed that it simply feels this way to the victim, time does not actually slow.

Ghast 

- An eternally crying spirit of the nether. They are extremely dangerous and hostile if they spot you, since they are able to spit liquid fire from their mouths. 

- Their tears are made of liquid silver and are extremely valuable if you can manage to collect them. 

Blaze

- These creatures are created inside nether fortresses by odd objects called “spawners.”

- They’re made of fire, smoke, and bright, eternally hot metal they can use to swing around to harm their opponents. This metal is commonly referred to as “Blaze Rods”  

- They guard nether fortresses with their lives, willing to sacrifice anything to protect them. 

Hoglin 

- They’re considered the elephants of the nether; very strong, very destructive, and potentially deadly. 

- Warped fungi are a tasty treat for Striders, but are extremely toxic to Hoglins. Because of this, they have developed a fear to the signature pattern of the warped fungus. 

- They eat / scrape against wood and plants for food as well as to sharpen their tusks. 

Phantom

- They’re small nocturnal creatures who live up in the trees . 

- They make nests out of bones they find, and mostly eat bugs 

- They’re very shy, and only come out to try and “help” other creatures get sleep at night. 

Shulker

- Very tiny, almost pixie like creatures that live in the ancient ender cities. They build themselves purple shells to hide away from danger. 

- Their shells are made from a mixture of sticky saliva and mucus, and plant matter from chorus tree plants. 

- They are able to spit out a sticky magic chemical that cause people to start floating into the air. The only way to get out of this is to wait for it to wear off.

Slime

- They’re mutant creatures made of a translucent ooze. The color can change depending on where they originated. 

- The lighter, outside ooze is very sticky, but also has bouncing properties. The inside, darker layer of ooze is very toxic and can dissolve metal. 

- While smaller ones are basically harmless, bigger Slimes can be very deadly. They trap it’s prey inside it’s body to immobilize it, and digest it alive.

Wither Skeleton

- These are skeletons that have had prolonged exposure to soul sand, turning black and “withered.” They also have a small blue fire in their chest. 

- They’re faster, stronger, more deadly and more hostile then regular skeletons, and are known for pursuing their targets over long distances. However, their bones are slowly withering away.

- Only fresh wither skeletons are fully intact. This is why it’s so hard to get fully intact wither skulls. 

The Wither

- When three wither skulls are combined with a great amount of soul sand, and is lit with soul fire, a Wither is born. 

- It’s an ancient creature built for only one purpose, to destroy and kill all life it sees

- Long ago, all the Piglin tribes came together to defeat a Wither that was rampaging across the Nether. Ancient writings of how it came to be were drawn along the walls of Nether Fortresses. 

- The tears of a Wither makes Wither Roses - an apology to the lives it has taken. 

- Nether stars, which appear once a Wither is defeated, can be used to make beacons. They can also be used to make Totems of Undying, when it’s combined with god-blessed liquid gold, and an emerald pure of corruption.

[crusherthedoctor]

If you had full creative freedom for a brand new Sonic cartoon, what would you do with it?

This is by no means a complete list of what I'd do, but it gives you a general idea all the same.

- Since Sonic X was long ago by this point, I think it'd be nice to have another attempt at an anime, particularly if it looked something like the OVA or the animated intro for Riders. The actual art direction would basically take the Modern designs, but place them in a world that combines the best visual elements of SA1 and the Classics/Advances/Mania.

- I don't care if the writers are Japanese or American. Treating one as better simply because they're Japanese/American is a tad too elitist and extremist IMO, especially since neither of them have perfect marks when it comes to writing for this franchise. Whoever the writers are, all that matters is that the writing is good.

- It would have a lot more in common with the game universe. Since there have been so many adaptations that practically make a point about doing their own wacky thing (even the ones that claim to be linked to the games...), I think a more genuinely faithful adaptation would be welcome. There would be minor differences of course, and I'm open to taking notes from the better aspects of certain adaptations, but the overall spirit and characterizations would be reasonably consistent with the games.

- Stories would be brand new. Callbacks and references to existing plots is fine, and I wouldn't necessarily mind a show to the side that tackles adaptations ala Pokemon Origins, but overall, I'd rather have new refreshing adventures rather than adapt SA1/SA2 for the millionth time.

- The tone would pretty much be like SA1. Funny and tense in equal measures, never goes too far in either direction. Whether it's a funny moment or a serious moment, it would be sincere. Self-aware enough to be able to acknowledge the weirdness and be willing to poke fun at itself, but not to the point of being overly self-deprecating and pandering to the franchise’s detractors.

- The lore would connect certain plotlines to each other on SOME occasions, and only if the logic was reasonable and kept to a minimum. It would not be all tied together in an overly contrived manner that ends up leaving no interesting questions. In other words, the S3&K/SA1 connection through Angel Island's lore would be fine, but there'd be no “Did you know the Black Arms worshipped Solaris, went to war with Chaos, were the offspring of Dark Gaia, and wrote the Arabian Nights???” bollocks.

- Sonic, Tails, Amy and Cream would make up the main quartet, with their personalities and bonds bouncing off each other. Other characters would appear and be of importance, but only when their involvement is justified. Said characters including - but not limited to - Knuckles, Team Dark, the Chaotix, Blaze, Big, G-Merl, and even Tikal and Chaos.

- Likewise, Eggman and his Badnik army would naturally be the main villains. Other villains who aren't affiliated with him are free to exist and get their own time in the spotlight (as long as they're not shit and don't need to upstage the doctor to look credible), but Eggman is a plague to the world in spite of his eccentric qualities, and is treated accordingly. He does what he wants, and unless you’re Sonic and/or his friends, there’s not a thing you can do about it.

- Since they appeared in Sonic Forces Mobile, I would MAYBE be willing to include Tangle and Whisper if they were allowed. Starline too, but only if he keeps his simp privilege this time, if ya know what I’m saying. The Hard-Boiled Heavies would definitely be there, because they're too good to be only used once.

Regarding certain characters in particular:

- Sonic is not dumb. Nor is he an asshole. He can be rough around the edges, he can make hasty decisions depending on whether he feels it’s the right thing to do, but at the end of the day, he’s still as good a guy as any good guy could be, and as long as you’re not a villain or a Penders-tier asshole, he’ll be friendly with you. You’d still have to deal with quips of course, but that’s just how he is, right?

- Tails maintains his independent streak from SA1, but he still thinks the world of Sonic and would drop everything in an instant if the hedgehog ever needed his help. Though his more cautious approach occasionally clashes with Sonic being a little more gung-ho (albeit not to the point of flanderization), he always has full faith in his big bro.

- The handling of Amy's crush would be perfectly balanced. Not too overwhelming to the point of acting irrational and chasing Sonic like a loony, but not too downplayed to the point where it might as well not be there at all. That said, more focus would be placed on her other traits and interests, such as her tarot cards and her bond with Cream.

- Knuckles would still be prone to gullible and less-than-flattering moments, because it's Knuckles, but more focus would be given to his admirable attributes, like his expertise in translating ancient texts, and occasionally making good points when in an clash of ideas with Sonic.

- Shadow's backstory would remain the same at its core (though maybe without the aliens), but it'd be altered to be less edgy. For example, rather than getting capped, Maria would succumb to her illness, and Gerald's anger would instead be the result of feeling betrayed by G.U.N. for denying him the means/funds to be able to cure her.

- Metal Sonic is fiercely loyal to Eggman, but his identity crisis would also be on full blast, and eventually he'd realise the oxymoron of believing himself to be Sonic while working for Eggman. Rather than turn traitor and wear elf shoes however, Metal would try to rationalize this to himself... with insane results. Eggman knows about this, and would humor it as long as it benefits him. He'd probably also bring out the other Mecha Sonics now and then for no other reason than to confuse Metal even more. Because he's a dick.

- The Sol Dimension now includes Soleanna, which would be the main kingdom. (It's already got Sol in the name anyway.) Since Blaze would be the ruler because of this, his sadly means that Elise would probably have to get cut, but ah well. Due to the change in context, Solaris would be built up as the Sol Dimension's equivalent to Chaos, with more focus on their contrasts (Chaos is water while Solaris is light, Chaos looks aquatic/reptilian while Solaris looks like a bird, Chaos' turn to evil was caused by an ancient event while Solaris' turn to evil was caused by scientists, etc).

- If Silver were in this show, he'd be no more of a casual acquaintance to Blaze than he would be to Sonic. Instead, her tagalong would be Marine. Though Blaze would still get annoyed by Marine's antics at first, she would come around to gaining more respect for her whenever the situation justified it.

- Trudy would-

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

Previous: The Nightmare Moon Timeline

The Tirek’s Reign Timeline

After Nightmare Moon’s return and battle for the throne, Princess Celestia and her protégée, Princess Cadence, subdued the maddened alicorn and managed to imprison her. Celestia had no time to celebrate not having to re-banish her sister for another thousand years; she went into a deep study, searching for the missing key that would activate the Elements of Harmony and free Luna of the poison darkening her mind and feeding on her ancient wrath. Princess Cadence and her husband Shining Armor took over running the throne of Equestria, giving the sisters time to find a solution and reconciliation. She is a wise and fair leader, despite her youth, and the uneasy country began to settle.

But with Celestia so distracted and Cadence not yet trained in monitoring the ancient dungeon of Tartarus, Tirek made his escape unnoticed. He was more cautious now than in his last quest to steal Equestria’s magic: the theft of a few ponies’ magic here, the emptying of a lonely hamlet there. Rumors of a magical plague and a strange monkey-horse creature who ate magic were all Cadence and Shining Armor had to go on, and they and the Royal Service were baffled by this creature or affliction that struck and then vanished again and again. Panic began to spread through Canterlot as more and more ponies on the outskirts of the city reported their magic stolen.

By the time word of a magical plague and centaur sightings reached Celestia, the only pony present who would recognize the significance, it was too late. Tirek had gained enough magic to come into the open and make his attack. First Cadence and her husband and guards fell, unprepared for what they faced. With Cadence’s alicorn magic combined with the many ponies’ he had stolen, Tirek defeated Celestia in spite of her best efforts. And lastly, ignoring her spitting invectives, he drained Nightmare Moon, as well.

With such potent magic flowing through him, Tirek’s lust for more power grew worse than ever before. He set out to steal the magic of every pony and magical creature in Equestria - and there were none who could hope to stop him. 

----

In the town of Featherhorn, there lived a young stallion with his parents, brother, and sister. He was a perfectly normal pony... or he would have been, were it not for the wings and horn he was born with. He got on alright - he had a few good friends and a supportive family, a love for his work and a faith that sustained him – but there were a number in the town who disapproved of him. He was the butt of many jokes and accusations, and often distrust. And the cultists who carried on in town caused trouble and made things worse for him, since he got the blame. He found it more and more tempting to stay out on the road, plying his trade and absorbing the confusion of strangers better than he could take the dislike of his own neighbors.

One day while the stallion was home, the town received word that a monster was coming. The monster had stolen the magic of the princesses, and now he was a giant, rampaging across the land and stealing the magic of every pony he found. He would soon be upon their town, and there was little time to flee - for who could run faster than this massive monster? Were they all doomed to lose their magic, and worse, their marks?

There was a small chance: a system of caves where they could hide, deep enough that the monster might not find them. But there was not enough time to get all the townsponies out, especially the sick and old; they could already hear the creature’s thundering hoofsteps on the horizon. If only they could distract it somehow, or slow it down... but who could hope to even do that much with a monster so powerful?

Nopony expected the young stallion, the alicorn imposter, to speak up:

“What if he believed there was another alicorn?”

The plan was dangerous. He would need help; handicapped in both flight and unicorn magic, he wouldn’t be able to fool the monster for long on his own. Few were willing - and of those who were, only a small number had the abilities that were needed. In the end, it was the stallion’s own brother and mother who helped him craft the final bits of his plan.

When the monster came upon the pony town, ready to further engorge himself with pony magic, the brown stallion appeared in the sky. He flew with confidence, bolstered by the carefully-directed winds of his expert flyer mother. His horn blazed with gold and silver light, bright as a star, aided by his magically gifted brother. And the monster believed the facade, and hungered only for more alicorn magic.

The chase lasted an hour, carefully-aimed magically bolts reflected through Sales’ horn by Pitch Black, skillful dodges aided by Pitch Forward. They had no hope of continuing the charade indefinitely, but that hour was enough; the townsponies were able to escape, hiding deep where the power-mad centaur wouldn’t find them. When at last the centaur swatted Salespitch from the sky and drained the magic from his injured body, the monster was enraged to taste such a miniscule amount. Black and Forward attempted a rescue, and were drained as well, their weakened bodies falling beside the unconscious Salespitch. 

When the monster turned back to his initial target and found the town empty of all ponies - what’s more, he could not detect pony magic anywhere nearby - his wrath burned the town to cinders. But when he returned to find the ponies who had tricked him, in order to punish them further, their bodies had vanished. 

Eventually, the monster left, continuing his rampage across the landscape. In a hollow of a tree, Pitch Black waited with the unconscious body of his mother and the severely injured body of his brother, the three of them blessedly undetectable now that they lacked their magic. But Black did not need his cutie mark to remember his driving purpose: to be there at the zero hour, when those he cared for needed him most.

The townsponies found them eventually; the father and daughter were overjoyed to find them alive. But Sales would not waken, though the best healers in the town mended his wounds. Badly injured and drained of magic, he slipped into a coma. Only alicorn-level healing magic might stand a chance of healing him, but that was lost to the monster.

But the town had been humbled. The one many of them had scorned the most – the pony who so hated being mistaken for something he was not – had taken up the very trait that caused him such trouble in order to give everything for the sake of those who despised him. The townsponies of Featherhorn vowed to protect him until he could be healed, and to keep away the members of his cult should they reappear to take advantage of his comatose state. And should he waken, they would treat him with the respect a hero deserved.

The monster still rampages. None in this group of refugees can hope to defeat him. But they have a refuge where they can stay safe until the nightmare has passed - and but for three of them, every pony and zebra has their magic. Perhaps one day, their fallen few will regain their magic, and the princesses will rise again. 

But for now, they wait. And they guard their fallen hero.

-----

Fun Facts About The Tirek Timeline/Art:

- Yup, you guys just got a pretty close parallel to the mysterious Tirek Incident. It obviously didn’t go down quite like this in the comic timeline, but some of the important bits are in there. We’ll eventually find out what happened. I so wanted to avoid too many spoilers, but the story wouldn’t make sense without SOME of them, so... merry early Christmas, I guess XD

- And yes, I did consider letting Sales die in this timeline. But I just can’t kill off my boy. I also snuck in the meaning behind Black’s cutie mark, I’m curious to know what ya’ll think :D

- When Tirek sucked the magic out of Nightmare Moon, he unwittingly drained out the corrupting magic that was so heavily influencing Luna and fueling her rage and paranoia. Additionally, Luna got to see her sister lose her magic while fighting to protect her from Tirek. They reconcile over this event and join with Cadence to search for the missing Elements of Harmony.

- The Crystal Empire will come around because it has to, but Sombra bides his time a bit more when he realizes there’s a GIANT MAGIC-SUCKING CENTAUR hoarding the collective magic of the entire nation of Equestria, and it has bomb-blaster beams that can level towns.

- Meanwhile, a certain race of bug-ponies are infiltrating the Crystal Empire, seeking safety from the magic-eating centaur who is just TRASHING the place for fun now that he’s got so much power to chuck around. Plus there are rumors that this kingdom was once RUN on love, and Chrysalis really wants to figure that out. There’s a whole ‘nother story in there, I’m certain, and it probably involves a few specific changelings making friends with a few crystal ponies and learning about giving love. Maybe this time, without several humiliating defeats via pony love shockwaves and weaponized rainbows to harden her pride, Chrysalis might actually be willing to give it a try herself.

- This is a timeline where the princesses DO find ponies who can wield the Elements of Harmony. Ironically, Twilight was drained of magic along with the rest of Canterlot, but her studies in magic theory and history lead her to studying ancient texts about the Elements, and one thing leads to another until the princesses meet her. Also, Twilight is a bit better at making friends in this universe since she wasn’t constantly distracted with trying to please Celestia (not that I blame Celestia for the canon events, I mean look what could have been avoided in THIS timeline!). They don’t have the special Super Power-Up box and keys, but I like to think the initial power burst of the reactivated Elements does the job on Tirek as well as it was meant to on Nightmare Moon.

- No, Luna does not get the bad magic back when her magic is restored along with everyone else’s. The Elements don’t play that game, that stuff is burned. She and Celestia go back to ruling Equestria together once this is all over while Cadance works on connecting with the newly liberated Crystal Empire and their changeling allies.

- Honestly, I didn’t expect it, but this is one of my favorite of the art pieces in regards to composition and color. I just really like how the color turned out, and the magic glows. I was rather happy to find I could duplicate the effect of Tirek’s magic illustration from the show without too much trouble. :D I also borrowed a lot of tones directly from a screenshot of the show scene. It’s really nice when art things come together!

Next Week: Discorded

[radramblog]

Every Boros Commander, Part 2

Where we last left off, I was shitting on Adriana, Captain of the Guard, who gives ACAB a pretty different meaning. Fortunately, most of the pickings this time aren’t quite as dire.

Depala, Pilot Exemplar (3rd most played as of writing)

Holy shit, a Boros commander with card advantage? It’s niche, but it was a first. Being limited to Dwarves and Vehicles does leave her with a problem a lot of commanders and tribes tend to have, which is being just a smidge under critical mass- but with the upcoming Kaldheim appearing to support Dwarves, and vehicles appearing to be a deciduous mechanic, I feel like it won’t be long before Depala is as powerful as her placement suggests. She is niche and mana-hungry, but basically the only Vehicle commander (and definitely the only Dwarf commander at the moment), so I suspect she’s here to stay for a while.

Tiana, Ship’s Caretaker (15th most played as of writing)

Tiana is possibly my favourite character lorewise in all of magic, frankly. She’s cool and cute and a massive dork and also someone who found her purpose in life, and frankly I love that for her. 

She’s also a really interesting commander to build around, seeing as she has a unique brand of card advantage that leads to the addition of old and weird cards, which I’m always a fan of. I should really get around to building a Tiana deck, to be honest, though I already have 10 commander decks with an 11th in progress, sooooo…

Firesong and Sunspeaker (4th most played as of writing)

I’m surprised to see F&S this high, but the first unique Buy-a-Box card did expand into an archetype previously unseen in the combination in the form of Boros Spellslinger (Dalakos would later return the favour as an Izzet Equipment commander). Previously, you had to go into Pauper EDH and play fellow Minotaur Blaze Commando for this kinda deck. Like Depala, F&S are heavily played despite being niche, though the also have the benefit of being a RW minotaur commander, if you want to play White instead of Black in that deck for…some reason? The siren moo of Boros Reckoner speaks to us all, I suppose.

Sylvia Brightspear and Khorvath Brightflame (17th most played as of writing)

The only partner pair I’m discussing today on account of their monogamy. Knights and Dragons make a weird combination, seeing as there are basically no other cards that help them work together rather than apart. You could almost run them as a goodstuff deck if you wanted, seeing as many of Boros’s best creatures are Knights or Dragons, but largely I think sticking to one or the other is probably for the best. With that in mind, the pair are actually the only real commanders for either tribe within Boros- the only other Dragon is something we’ll get to, and the only knight is…Adriana…so…. The buffs given by either pair are excellent, and not something that either tribe gets easy access to typically, so I can see the appeal of them in that slot. At that point, the extra commander is just a bonus.

Aurelia, Exemplar of Justice (21st most played as of writing)

Oh, another Aurelia, and she’s worse this time. In seriousness, her ability looks like its likely to be targeting herself most of the time, and Mentor just doesn’t do enough in this format. She has enough keywords and power to Voltron, but I’m not expecting much interesting from her outside of that.

Tajic, Legion’s Edge (18th most played as of writing)

Tajic has 4 separate lines of text for some reason, and only one (ok fine two haste is nice) actually matters. Having a damage prevention effect is nice in the zone, but it doesn’t apply to himself, so if you’re planning on turning mass damage one-sided you’re going to need to protect him still. And like, what else does he do? He’s not a good aggro commander at all, his last ability is a joke, why are people playing this card? If I was in a mass damage deck I’d just play Gisela, at least she does something on the off chance she survives. Probably no-one is gonna go out of the way to kill Tajic, at least. Beats out Aurelia for biggest downgrade, imo, even if Aurelia fell from higher.

Feather, the Redeemed (Number 1 most played at time of writing)

Feather is the most popular Boros commander, by over triple the next most popular. It’s not hard to see why: she’s a cheap commander that turns any targeted cantrip into a draw engine, she synergises with so many random powerful cards that you can build her a fair few different ways, and she’s a cool story character getting a card 12ish years after her appearance in the Ravnica novels. She does so much and is so interesting that it’s completely understandable that she’s as huge as she is. I’m still never going to build her though, even with my funky Japanese copies, if only because I’m too much of a hipster.

Gerrard, Weatherlight Hero (13th most played as of writing)

Kinda funny that Gerrard’s little text that made him work in the command zone until recent rules changes is now a strict downside. Gerrard has his niche, with a Second Sunrise in the zone unsurprisingly supporting Eggs decks rather nicely, and synergising with a lot of just random bullshit. I’d probably never build him, and it seems pretty easy to make it degenerate, but I’m glad he’s here and he’s certainly better than the first iteration of the character.

Haktos, the Unscarred (12th most played as of writing)

I’m kinda surprised to see Achilles this high, considering how recent he is. He reminds me a lot of Progenitus, oddly enough, as a commander that would be good at Voltron but can’t get buffed easily by traditional means. I think adding equipment on the off-chance that it fits his heel is a complete mistake, but things like Silverblade Paladin and Exalted cards do exist, so fair play. He’s pretty hard to kill unless you’re boardwiping, and even then damage-based ones probably miss, so I can see the value in that. But that mana cost hurts to look at- hitting 2 mana of 2 different colours on turn 4 was a pain back when I played Trostani, and that was a green deck.

Stet, Draconic Proofreader (No data available)

Okay look, I tried so hard to find a way to abuse this dork’s ability but there’s just no good way to do it. Stet sucks hard enough that even if you are playing with Silver-Bordered cards legal I just don’t know why you’d ever run it. His art is pretty funny, I’ll give it that. We got Alexander bloody Clamilton and Surgeon Commander in the same cycle, keep in mind.

Winota, Joiner of Forces (2nd most played as of writing)

Having menaced standard, Winota is still pretty decent as a commander, even without access to her 7-mana blue payload.  There actually aren’t that many beefy humans to cheat out in general, but considering how easy it is to enable her ability and the fact that she digs *6 cards deep* on trigger, I think you just kinda end up swarming the board distressingly easy with her deck. It’s shocking to see a card from 2020 in the top 5 like this, considering how the year has gone for the format in general, but like. 6 cards.

Zirda, the Dawnwaker (8th most played as of writing)

Look it combos with Basalt/Grim monolith in the command zone isn’t that neat. Zirda is pretty open-ended, but not especially powerful outside of the aforementioned combo. I find them much more appealing in the Companion slot, frankly. With that said, I do like that Boros is the colour pair getting access to Training Grounds in the zone, seeing as it works well with its other themes (Equipment mostly) and opens new archetypes (Cycling, etc.) up as possibilities.

Akiri, Fearless Voyager (7th most played as of writing)

Haha, Brion has more decks than Akiri. That’s probably since it only released a few months ago. Of course, I’m not including the other Akiri, so this is the first time we’ve seen her on the list. But apart from that, Akiri was somehow the first of these commanders to actually say “draw” on it. Her synergies with Living Weapon (and the recent equipment cards that do the same) are pretty sick, though her second ability will end up costing a lot of mana over time if you have to use it. I think its hilarious how much more value this gives you than Adriana for doing the thing Adriana wants you to do, at 2 less mana.

Also, she’s probably the best general for Kor tribal? I guess you could go Akiri/Black partner so you can play Orah in the deck. Someone build this! Kor like equipment, Akiri likes equipment, lets go.

It’s only just occurred to me that Akiri gives you more for attacking other players than Adriana does. Fuckin hell, man.

Bell Borca, Spectral Sergeant (25th most played as of writing)

Bell finally getting a card 15 years after his fictional death was a welcome treat, but the exile-related ability is frankly awkward and abusing it to 1 or 2 hit commander damage is pretty difficult. Still, having impulse draw in the zone makes him probably just the best generic #goodstuff commander. I’m surprised he’s as low as he is, but he only released a month ago (at time of writing) and we got an absolute stack of legends (including 2 other Boros ones and the partners) in the same set.

Reyav, Master Smith (28th most played as of writing)

Reyav is neat since he combines 2 of Boros’s more traditional archetypes, being Aggro and Voltron, into one damage doubling dwarf. I suspect his lack of play is again due to the other legends in the same set and that it only dropped a month ago, because there’s no way he deserves to be below Munda. Also, he’s 2 mana! The only other 2CMC Boros Legend is partner Akiri! How did that happen? I think he deserves better. You can suit him up and get dunking real quick.

Wyleth, Soul of Steel (16th most played as of writing)

Our final general is Boros’s second ever Precon commander, and the only one with flavour text. He’s got the space for it, considering how much work that second line is doing. I appreciate that Wyleth, despite being superficially similar to Akiri, plays pretty differently, as he prefers Voltron while she prefers spreading equipment out. I assume Wyleth would be a lot higher if the precon itself was included, but there’s no way of knowing how many people are playing just the base deck, so who knows.

A CHALLENGER APPROACHES!!!

Koll, the Forgemaster (no data available) This bloke got spoiled between me writing most of this and going to publish it. I can see a few easy combos with his first ability, especially seeing as Grafted Wargear is a card. Playing fairly though, his first ability feels kinda slow, and not being able to protect himself is a huge drag. The second ability feels kinda stapled on, as its a way of giving you a bonus since the first one doesn’t do shit for tokens. But like, just don’t equip them, lmao. Awkward, but has potential.

And that’s the lot of them! Uhhhh yeah that’s all I’ve got, stan Tiana kthnxbai

[thebladeblaster]

Pokémon: the Dark Circuit (aka Vanguard Descends season 2)

Chapter 10 The Sneaky First Match! The Legend Q4 Is Born!

Aichi’s current team

Level 90 Takuto (Solgealeo) steel/psychic

Moves:

Sunsteel Strike

Flare Blitz

Solar Beam

Psychic Fangs

Level 93 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 91 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 95 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 100 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

From his seat in his booth Gin watched on with interest as the pairings were announced. The first match was team Q4 vs team Ninja.From the entrance to the battleground stood Misaki, Kai, Shin, and Kamui. Strangely, Aichi was currently missing.

“What’s with that weird name?”, Misaki questioned.

“It’s short for Quadrifoglio which is Italian for four leaf clover, the ultimate symbol of luck.”, Shin explained.

“I like it!”, Kamui replied.

“I’m a bit worried. Aichi still hasn’t shown up yet. Do you think there’s any foul play from Team Asteroid?”, Shin questioned.

“It’s nothing like that. He’s just running late.”, Kai replied, with his eyes closed and crossing his arms.

“How do you know?”, Kamui asked.

“Because I was training with him. His final test has been taking awhile. Takuto wants to make sure he’s really ready.”, Kai replied.

The others gasped in shock hearing that Kai trained with Aichi.

Back in Kakusa many recognizable faces gathered around their TVs to watch the Circuit. At the Sendou household along with its usual residents was Mr. Mark, Miwa, Naoki, Mikuru, and Chrono. They watched the screen intently and Shizuka did a prayer for her son.

“I thought this was a tournament of 4 why do they only have 3 guys?”, Kamui questioned.

“The fourth person is as a alternate just in case and another person to switch out to. You technically can compete with just 3.”, Shin explained.

On the opposite side to team Q4 was team Ninja. The tallest of their members had cyan and black hair with grey eyes. He wore a fishnet shirt with a red scarf and a silver necklace. Another was a redhead with slicked back hair and red eyes. He also wore a fishnet top along with a purple and grey jacket. The shortest one who was even shorter than Kamui had blue hair covered by his hood and yellow eyes. He had a white hood and a gold part covering his mouth. Underneath it he wore an orange shirt and red arm warmers on his arms.

“Where’s your leader 003v? He’s not scared is he?”, the tallest one taunted.

“Hey, Aichi isn’t scared of anyone! He’s just late! That’s all!”, Kamui replied.

“Well then which one of you has the courage to go up first against a world class team.”, the redheaded one asked.

“I’ll be glad to kick your dory cuts!”, Kamui said, raising up his fist.

“Sorry butts you mean.”, Misaki corrected, making Kamui sweat drop.

“Whatever! I, Kamui the great, am gonna take you losers down!”, Kamui announced.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be your opponent. I am Crank, a master of the grass type”, the shortest one said.

“I’m master of uhh...the winning type!”, Kamui replied as he walked up to the battlefield causing Misaki to face palm.

“Remember Kamui you only get to select one Pokémon in this battle so be careful. If you get defeated then one of us is up next against Crank.”, Misaki said.

“For team Ninja we have the master of grass, a veteran in this circuit, Crank. And for team Q4 we have the whirlwind fighter hailing from the Kakusa region, Katsuragi Kamui!”, MC Miya introduced.

“Go, Ludicolo!”, Crank called out.

“Go, Buster!”, Kamui called out.

Leon narrowed his eyes from his booth.

“003v us somewhere near here, but it seems he’s learned to suppress the energy his Psyqualia gives off.”, Leon thought.

He could feel him very vaguely somewhere near the arena. He didn’t know why he hadn’t appeared yet though.

Back to the battle…

“Buster use blaze kick!”, Kamui commanded.

Buster kicked off, launching a flying flame-covered kick at Ludicolo.

“You must really be a fool! Ludicolo is also a water type! Ludicolo ninja arts of hydro pump!”, Crank said.

Ludicolo shot a torrent of water at Buster.

“Oh no!”, Miwa said, watching the match on the tv.

“Buster!”, Kamui called out as he did Buster twisted mid air away from the water.

Buster then landed briefly, kicking off the ground and delivering a rising flame kick to Ludicolo’s face.

“Ninja art of hydro pump!”, Crank ordered.

As another torrent of water was shot Buster spun out of the way of the attack.

“Wow, Kamui’s Blazekin sure is fast.”, Emi commented, as she watched.

“My! My! It looks like Crank’s mon can’t even touch Kamui’s! We’ll our rookies get actually win over our veterans team Ninja?”, MC Miya said.

Buster was very light on its feet, easily dodging the watery blasts sent its way.

“Buster use thunder punch!”, Kamui commanded.

Buster moved swiftly like lightning before Crank could give his next order Buster struck Ludicolo with its lightning punch. Ludicolo stubbled a bit but as it tried to right itself and was hit by another punch. With every hit the was a crackle of thunder following it.

“Ludicolo ninja art of-gah?!”, Crank gasped in shock as Ludicolo fell to the ground fainting.

“Heh! Is that all you got world class losers?!”, Kamui taunted as he did Buster bounced around punching the air.

“Why you little…”, The tallest one grumbled.

“Don’t worry Jack I’m gonna teach that cocky brat a lesson.”, the redheaded one saint, putting his hand on his shoulder and smirking.

“I’ll be your next opponent. I am Lizard master of the water type.”, the redheaded one introduced.

“All you’ll be is another loser!”, Kamui replied.

Many of those back at the Sendou household sweat dropped at Kamui’s confidence.

“Let’s just hope he can continue to back it up. At least they got one win so far. That’s good.”, Shuka commented.

“Woah, that Blazekin is so rad. I should catch something like that.”, Naoki commented.

“I wonder where Aichi is though…”, Shizuka thought.

Somewhere near the area…

“Takuto!!! Takuto!!! Wait the match has started should we be-AHHH!!!”, Aichi screamed comedically as he ran from the sun lion shooting beams of light at him.

“You must be completely prepared, Aichi now fight me!”, Takuto said as Solgealeo.

Aichi looked over at the restraint bracers nervously. They seemed to be upgraded, their gems were now black and there was another one around his neck.

“But, you shut off my powers, how can I fight you without my Pokémon?!”, Aichi questioned, before squealing as he narrowly dodged another beam of light.

Back with Kamui…

Lizard walked up to the arena pulling out a Poké ball. Jack crossed his arms smirking, ignoring the sulking Crank.

“I don’t understand. I’m a veteran how did I lose to a rookie kid like him?”, Crank questioned.

“You can still redeem yourself, Crank.”, Jack whispered to him, causing Crank to turn to him and nod.

“Up next for team Ninja we have the master of the deep, Lizard!”, MC Miya announced.

“Go, Greninja!”, Lizard called out.

Buster faced the water Pokémon who got in a fighting stance.

“Greninja ninja art of spikes.”, Lizard ordered.

“Buster use thunder-“, Kamui was saying before he was caught off.

“Ninja art of smoke screen!”, Lizard cut him off.

Greninja made a hand sign and smoke filled the arena.

“What the heck now I can’t see!”, Kamui complained.

“This isn’t good. Greninja will likely be able to find Buster. But, Buster can’t see him.”, Yugi commented.

“How can Greninja see but Buster can’t?”, Jonouchi asked.

“Think Jonouchi, think. Why would he use this strategy if he didn’t have a way to find his opponent.”, a new voice said who entered.

He had black hair in a ponytail and green eyes. He had a black shirt with a red vest and pants. He wore dice earrings and had a red headband. He also had black makeup on his face under his right eye.

“I don’t remember asking you Ryuji!”, Jonouchi grumbled as Ryuji smirked at him.

“I thought you’d graduate from being a Lillipup before this tournament began. I hope you don’t hold us back.”, Ryuji teased.

This made Jonouchi growl.

“Hey! Hey! Settle down guys!”, Honda said, getting between the two and raising up his hands.

Kamui squinted his eyes trying to see through the fog.

“Oh no! Lizard has already set up his specialty! This could be the beginning of the end for our rookie team!”, MC Miya announced.

“Greninja use ninja art of water shuriken!”, Lizard ordered.

Kamui could hear a loud splash and a stumble from within the smoke clouds which was likely Buster getting hit by the attack. Kamui growled in frustration at not being able to see what’s going on.

“Buster use thunder punch! Punch around till you find him!”, Kamui ordered.

They could hear Buster swinging but no impact while instead hearing loud splashes and stumbling.

“This isn’t good.”, Shin commented.

They could hear feet running and a loud thunder crack as Greninja was sent flying out the smoke.

“Darn! He got a lucky shot!”, Lizard said angrily.

Out from the smoke Buster pulled back a fist ready to strike Greninja again.

“Greninja use hydro pump quick!!!”, Lizard ordered.

At almost the same time the lightning punch and torrent of water connected with their intended targets. Both Pokémon fell over fainting.

“Darn. I hoped I could sweep the whole team! You did good, Buster. Who’s tagging in next?”, Kamui said, returning Buster.

“I’m up next.”, Misaki said, before they high fives signaling Kamui tagging out.

“Oh my oh my! A double knock out! This battle just keeps getting more thrilling! The rookies may really win this match at this rate! All who’s left for team Ninja is their leader Jack, master of the inferno! However he’s the strongest of them all! If anyone can pull of a comeback victory for his team it’s him!”, MC Miya announced.

“So, fire type huh.”, Misaki thought.

“For team Q4 we have Tokura Misaki, the Kakusa region’s own Psychic type gym leader! She’s been rumored to have mystic powers which she uses to completely dominate her opponents!”, MC Miya announced.

A tick mark appeared on Misaki’s head after MC Miya announced the rumor. Kamui and Shin nervously stepped back from Misaki.

“I don’t have any powers, you moron!!! Just photographic memory!!!”, Misaki yelled in annoyance at the commentator who nervously flinched.

Yugi and his friends sweat dropped from the stands hearing Misaki’s outburst.

“Woah, she’s as feisty as she is beautiful.”, Ryuji commented, cupping his chin.

“She would break you in half Ryuji…”, Anzu replied, still sweat dropping.

The two competitors brought out a Poké ball.

“Go! Incineroar!”, Jack called out.

“Go, Sakuya!”, Misaki called out.

Sakuya winced as her feet dug into the spikes laid in the previous match.

[vinylhazza]

JERSEY BOY (E.D)

Fou Amoreux

jersey boy masterlist

part 1. here

… … … 

her mouth hasn’t shut up about him since he kissed it. the idea that he may kiss it again is constantly stuck in her brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about him even before any kiss they shared. Adélaïde seems to feel the same about her “Gray” as she likes to call him, the brightest smile coming to her face with the very sound of his name leaving her lips. She fell for the younger twin just as hard as Chloé fell for Ethan. 

and if one day you wake up and find that you’re missin’ me 

three months ago is when he hopped on that plain back to LA, back to his busy life with his busy schedule. three months of facetime calls and mushy text messages. three months of missing him to no end. three months of silent prayers sent at night, up to the heavens hoping they’ll answer her prayer and bring her jersey boy back.

she still goes to the ferris wheel. she never rides it, simply sits on the bench and watches the wheel spin around and around, remembering the first time his hazel eyes landed on her and the fire that it sent blazing through nerve in her body. she watches lovers hop onto the ride, hand in hand, starting their journey like she once had. 

and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be 

she comes to the ferris wheel near every other day, just to see if maybe he had been the sneaky boy she fell in love with and came back to her without warning. maybe another Louis Vuitton event? maybe another event?...maybe just because he missed her? 

she asks Adélaïde to join her each time, but she declines, instead opting to travel back to that very same bench where Grayson’s lips met hers for the very first time and sent her spiraling into a puddle of longing for his touch every moment. the way his eyes looked at hers that night, the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower reflecting off of his dilated pupils had been something she’d only seen in movies.

when they left three months ago...they had cried for days, wrapped up in blankets in Chloé’s living room, gushing about their adventures and trying to forget their heartbreak for a small fraction of time by watching the Notebook - which only made it worse naturally. 

she almost expected him to not call or text her and treat her as a spontaneous love affair he’d had in Paris, never to be spoken of again. she expected him to throw away her number she scribbled down on the white hotel napkin after she whispered her words of devotion to him. the smile that blessed the world when he looked down and saw her number was breathtaking. he hadn’t needed it while they were frolicking and getting themselves into an abundance of trouble, because he always knew where to find her. right where he first saw her. 

it was hard at first with different time zones, but he would always make sure to text her what he was doing, how is day was, anything he could come up with, just to ensure she didn't forget about him. but she could never. and he could never forget about her. they were both far too deep for that. what she didn't know...was that he and his brother had every intention of coming back and sweeping them right back off of their feet.

thinkin’ maybe you’d come back here to the place that we’d meet 

the twins had already bought their tickets, already booked the hotel reservations. they had decided before hand in a deep brotherly talk that they weren’t going to tell the girls. they were going to hand it to the universe, and if it’s meant to be: Ethan will see his sweet Chloé at the ferris wheel and Grayson will see Adélaïde on that little bench by the bushes. fate had never done them wrong before. 

she was far too embarrassed to ever tell him she often goes back to the place they met, she was far too embarrassed to admit that she just wanted to feel that fire again, just wanted him back again...just wanted him. and that was the closest she could get, it was the very beginning of their little love story, one they couldn’t have known would be lifelong. 

they had told Lisa about Chloé and Adélaïde one day on a trip back to Jersey after a stressful weak of relentless press and internet snoopiness. but of course that was after she’d called them out on hiding something. mother knows best.

she knew the way they smiled was a little brighter. she knew the walk in their step was happier. she knew their texts were more thought out, like they were typing a novel instead of a one word answer. she knew they stayed up later than they ever had talking rushed and quite on their phones. she knew they booked “random” tickets to Paris right in her living room. she knew. she knew her boys fell in love.

so she wished them extra good luck before they went home, knowing they would be leaving in two days on a quest to return to their girls - and hugged them a little big tighter, whispering that they’ll be there. she promises the girls will be there. she’d never seen her boys talk about girls they way that they had on the couch, drinking shyly from their mugs. not even Grayson who was dead convinced he’d fallen in love every time he got into a relationship. she had a way of bringing it out in them.

it was never like this. 

there was a hole in their world, an emptiness in the twins life since they stepped foot in front of that damn ferris wheel. something changed. that change is what makes them sit down in a mess of nerves on a flight from LA to Paris. 

and you’ll see me waiting for you, on the corner of the street 

so here Ethan sits, here he waits, hoping that when the sun sinks below the horizon, Chloé will be back in his arms once again. he hopes she still comes here. he hopes that maybe even if she never does, something in her will tell her just to come here because he’s waiting for her. and he needs her. and he never wants to let her go again. 

Grayson and Ethan parted ways almost an hour and a half ago. they were hopeful, but told one another not to be too upset if they don’t show, that it’s just them taking a risk and if this city gives them that drop in the ocean luck one more time - they know it's a sign that they are the real deal. 

so Grayson sits on the bench by the bushes and watches the comin and going of tourists staring dreamily up at the Eiffel Tower, just basking in the pure art and essence of the city that breathes devotion and love. they wait for Adélaïde and Chloé to get that feeling deep down in their stomachs: intuition. 

so i’m not movin, i’m not movin 

and that they had. on this day, for some reason while the pair drink their herbal tea and talk about nonsense while applying way too much of their facemasks...they get their feeling in their gut that they need to be somewhere. once this feeling comes it stays, and it weighs on their mind until they can’t stand it anymore, coming to the agreement that they needed to go to their “spots”. 

the short car ride to the city is silent, air completely flooded with nerves and anxiety. they feel that same magic in their bones that they felt the day they met those charming twins that stole their hearts and never gave them back. but they didn’t want them back. 

when the car is parked on a side street and they gleam at each other with watery eyes and fleeting hearts, they step out to give one another a long sentimental hug - hoping and praying they aren’t wrong. they hope their wishes on the shooting stars came true. 

both Chloé and Adélaïde send a text to their respective twin, a short breezy message that they hope gets an answer within a few moments.

what’s up?

maybe then their assumptions can be confirmed. they wait for a minute to get an answer - and of course Ethan and Grayson get the message, but choose not to answer, not wanting to ruin the universes plan. the girls heave a sigh of defeat, but don’t give up hope. not until they know for sure. 

Chloé heads for the ferris wheel, sending a wave to Adélaïde who rushes off to the Eiffel Tower with a giddy grin. 

goin’ back to the corner where I first saw you 

all four hum a tune as they wait, as they walk, as they pray. a habit for them all. it’s a song they haven’t heard in so long, but for some reason it seems very accurate in this moment. mysterious ways of the world. 

the sun is sinking, and sinking, and sinking, casting a purple and pink glow over every part of the beautiful city - cool breeze brushing over Ethan’s face as he decides to stand, knowing he’s far too anxious to sit because who sits when they wait for- 

teary eyes, those beautiful teary eyes. the purple making his Chloé’s skin appear golden but plum all the same, wind fluttering the end of her blush colored flowy tank top as they stare at one another, frozen. she’s only a few steps away, too afraid she’s hallucinating to walk any closer. 

while the ferris wheel keeps on spinning, they keep on staring. her hands are at her side. one hand is in his pocket, the other holding a bouquet. he got flowers for her?

she’s taking in the sight she’s loved since that sunny day...dark wisps of hair, styled just right, silver chain around his neck, white Louis Vuitton t-shirt, black pants. stunning. just as breathtaking as the last time she’d seen him three months ago.

Grayson and Adélaïde share the same stare down just a few blocks away from them.

he waits on the bench still as a statue for his beautiful girl to rush over and caress his face with disbelieving eyes. lovers reunited again. he intends to ask her the same question, one he knows in his heart she won’t refuse.

Ethan takes his time walking over to a frozen Chloé, gaining the courage to say the sentence he’s been rehearsing in his head, to Grayson, to the random lady in the flower shop, and to his mother, to the flight attendant, anyone he could find. he hopes to God he doesn’t screw it up. he’s not messing up fates second chance. 

“you’re here,” is the only thing she can say through her hysterical crying, not believing he is actually standing here, actually running a hand through her hair, actually holding her favorite kind of flowers (peach roses)...she can’t believe he actually came back for her. she’d wished and hoped and prayed - never seeing it work before so why would it now?

“shh...I’m here baby,” he grins widely at her, hugging her to his chest, hearts thumping loudly in both of their ears. high off of the feeling of each others skin against their own once again. sun sinking lower on this beautiful July evening, he finally continues speaking, “I gotta tell you something.” 

she nods against his shirt, eyes closed, breathing him in, sinking in his arms like putty. safe place. that’s what this is, her safe place.

fuck he really couldn’t be more nervous than he was when Chloé leans back, taking his flowers and setting them on the bench. he takes her soft fragile face in both of his hands, looking into her eyes deeply, knowing how ridiculous they must look to all of the bustling busy people of the city...but he couldn’t care less. 

“tu es la femme de mes reves,” it’s a soft whispered confession, as soft as hers had been. perfect. meaningful. she gasps at how easy it was for him to say, just like he’d been destined to. like he’d been waiting his whole life to say it.

it’s just what she needed to hear before she’s locking their lips together in an earthshattering kiss. lips dancing, tongues teasing, passionately whispering both French and English love confessions. right in the middle of Paris they fall in love all over again.

he has his French girl once more, and Grayson has his. and now that they’ve got them, they are never losing them again. 

when they pull away they are laughing, not even believing their luck. 

“I actually uh...came here to tell you something else too,” he chuckles, wiping stray tears from under her eyes. he’s pretty choked up himself. he knows when a fan posts a picture it will blow up and spread like wildfire to every social media platform their is, and he knows his mom will see it, and he knows she would be cheering. so he goes on to finish what he started. 

“I was immersed in your life when we came here, and in turn fell in love with you...why don’ t you come and see what my world has to offer hmm?” it’s worth a shot. 

“come to LA you mean?” she’d only been to the states once when she was eleven. it was a family trip to New York - her mom had always been obsessed. 

“yeah I mean...I want you. and you want me. and I think if we actually give this a shot it will work, we could be really happy together. I mean I already am happy with you, but I want you in my arms more often than every couple of months,”  he plants a soft peck of a kiss on her pouted lips, eyelashes fluttering against her heated cheekbones. yeah their worlds would change with any decision they make, but they've already been changed since the day they met. and neither of them want to ever feel that empty again. if she agrees to go to LA and see what her life could be, she would thank herself later. she knows by that same fuzzy feeling she gets in her toes when something amazing is about to happen. 

it’s not like she’s moving there right now, simply testing the waters and making her own decision on where life could take her and if she wants to take the safe path, or follow the path less traveled. she’s just a small town French girl, how much happiness could she get? this doesn’t happen to girls like her.

“give it a try for me?” he just keeps on rubbing her cheeks, the light of the ferris wheel gleaming in her wide eyes staring back at him. he’s hers. she knows it in her bones and with her whole body that whether she’s here or there - he’s hers. everything else can follow later. why not take the leap? make the jump?

she only needs a moment more to think before she’s pulling at his neck for another kiss, making a mental note to thank herself years later for making another reckless decision to follow this jersey boy and his twin back to their home in LA. yeah it’s not great to make rash decisions...but when has it gone wrong for them yet? 

“yes, let’s do it. I want to know what made you who you are,” and she means it, she wants to know what makes him tick. she wants to know how he is so polite. how he handles all the bullshit that’s thrown at him. how he thrives. she wants to know how he’s so bright. so full of sunlight and hope at all times. she wants to know how her man came to be. she doesn't give a fuck if she has to go to Egypt to find out, she’ll follow him. 

“I was hoping you’d say that because Grayson is asking Adélaïde and it would be kind of weird if you said no and she said yes just saying,” he laughs, breathing out a sigh of relief when he sees Grayson and Adelaide walking towards them on the sidewalk with matching grins, Grayson throwing a thumbs up in his direction. she turns to see the gesture and Adélaïde mouth “oh my God” at her, dreamily smiling at Grayson’s side profile. 

Chloé doesn’t give herself the time to be nervous, she doesn’t give herself the chance to think about what she’s going to pack, or the excited screaming fest she’ll surely have with Adélaïde later, she doesn’t give herself a chance to be nervous about the plain, or telling her mother even if she’s moved out on her own, she doesn't think about what she’s going to tell her job, she doesn't think about anything but those beautiful brown eyes looking at her soft and delicate. she doesn't think about anything but her jersey boy that came back for her. so she rests a finger on his lips, hushing him from trying to convince her or make himself nervous. 

she plans to live in the moment like they had before, make the most of their time in Paris before he sweeps her off to start their lives and change her world for the better forever. she plans to take him back to that hotel room and finish what they started. she plans to rest her lips on every surface of his body simply because she can. she plans to keep his heart right here with her, where it belongs - whether it’s in LA or France. as long as they have each other who the fuck cares? she can hear her mother’s voice in her head, the saying she’s told her since she was just a little girl; tenter sa chance.

she looks up at him with a sly smirk, ghosting her lips against his, licking at his bottom lip lighting only to feel him grin.

“tu pourrais te taire et m’embrasser?” 

… … … 

part 3? 

[razieltwelve]

Friday Nights Are For Fighting (RWBY AU Snippet)

Yang glanced at the large grandfather clock. She would have preferred something a little smaller, but Ruby had always found the mechanics of the clock fascinating. She’d even given it a nickname. Gerald, the grandfather clock, had been with them for the better part of three hundred years, and Ruby had even taken lessons from a horologist to ensure the clock would be with them for three hundred more.

The clock was about to strike nine o'clock in the evening on a Friday night, which meant she was about to receive her weekly visit from the Vampire Hunters’ Association. Last week’s intruders had been a thoroughly disappointing trio who had accidentally blown themselves up when they’d tried to demonstrate the awesome power of gunpowder.

Now, Yang had no problems with explosives. In fact, she rather liked them. However, she was also a two-thousand-year-old ancient vampire who could laugh off being blown into thousands of pieces. The average vampire hunter was considerably less good at surviving being blown into thousands of pieces.

As the clock began to strike the hour, Yang took a moment to strike a suitably menacing pose at the top of the grand stairs that led deeper into the manor she and Ruby shared. Whoever the Association sent was unlikely to be much of a challenge, but appearances were important. A vampire hunter could afford to be scruffy, an ancient vampire with connections to the rest of the vampire nobility could not.

Right on cue, the doors of the manor burst open. She gestured for her servants to leave the area. Not all vampire hunters were considerate enough to try to avoid collateral damage, and some of the servants belonged to families that had served her for generations.

“Prepare to face your doom, villain!”

Yang smiled faintly as a pair of huntresses walked in. One of them was very clearly a Schnee. She’d faced enough of them over the years to spot them from a mile away. This particular Schnee was a little on the short side and very petite. However, her blue eyes blazed with righteous fury as she struck a pose by the ruined doors and jabbed one finger in Yang’s direction.

“Vile temptress! Tonight is the day your maiden-seducing reign of terror comes to an end!” The Schnee drew her rapier with a flourish. “I, Weiss Schnee, have come to personally strike you down.”

“Is that so?” Yang drawled. She pointed. “And who would that be beside you?” 

Weiss winced. “Ah, right.’ She turned. “I would like to introduce my associate, Blake Belladonna. She will also be striking you down. That is, we will be striking you down together.” Weiss paused. “As a team.”

“…” Blake sighed. “Weiss, next time, let me introduce myself. You make me sound like your sidekick.”

“Well…” Weiss began. “I am the heiress to an ancient and noble clan of huntresses…”

“And I’m basically Faunus royalty.”

“Normally,” Yang said. “The Association tries to have only one protagonist on each team. It makes the whole pre-battle banter thing much easier.” She smiled. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

She would never understand why huntresses had to wear such form-fitting or revealing clothing, but she was not about to complain. Weiss might not have the most buxom figure, but the trousers she wore did a fantastic job of showing off her legs while her corset emphasised her slender waist and bust. Blake, though, was a much tastier dish, at least in Yang’s opinion. With an athletic build that the form-fitting ninja-like garb she wore showed off to perfection, Blake was the very definition of delectable. Oh, and she had the most adorable cat ears too.

“Are you ogling us?” Weiss cried. “How dare you! Does your vampiric lechery know no bounds?”

Yang rubbed her ears. “Does she always yell?” she asked Blake.

Blake sighed and rubbed her cat ears. “Pretty much.” She shrugged. “But, yeah, we’re basically here to kill you.”

“You’re here to try,” Yang replied. “And, quite frankly, I don’t think you’ll have much luck.”

“We don’t need luck,” Weiss countered. “Taste the cleansing fire of my family’s magic!” She used her rapier to draw an intricate set of runes in the air. Ribbons of fire raced toward Yang only to stop as the ancient vampire held up one hand.

“Hmmm…” Yang grabbed one of the ribbons and tugged on it. It shattered into a stream of embers. “Not bad. Your casting speed was excellent, and the power behind the spell was great too. However, you really do need to do your homework.”

Weiss’s eyes narrowed. “Vampires are weak against fire. Everyone knows that.”

“Most vampires are weak against fire.” Yang’s magic flared, and flames erupted into existence around her, a maelstrom of heat so intense that the stone floor at her feet began to glow. “I’m not most vampires.”

“Hmmm…” Weiss rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “That could be problematic.” She sheathed her rapier. “In that case, I shall have to rely on Plan B.” She pulled a wooden stake out of a holster on her back. “Behold! This is a stake carved from a branch of the World Tree and blessed by the Seven Holy Maidens. Not even you, an ancient vampire, will be able to withstand its deadly power!”

Yang tilted her head to one side. “You’re going to try and stake me? What do you think I am, a garden variety fledgling in my first decade of vampiric life?”

Weiss stuttered. “Of course not! You are a vampire of unrivalled licentiousness whose lust has corrupted countless innocent maidens. But, as I said, this is no mere stake! it is a stake carved from a branch of the -”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got anything better than that?” Yang asked Blake.

As Weiss spluttered in outrage, the Faunus replied. “I was actually planning to kill you using the sealing arts of my people that have been passed down for countless generations and honed in the seemingly endless struggle against the horrors that assail my homeland.”

“Hmm… you know, maybe you are the protagonist in this group,” Yang replied. “You’ve certainly got a more tragic and inspiring backstory.”

“What?” Weiss leapt in front of Blake. “How dare you! I was in the middle of giving my speech! You can’t just cut me off.” She raised the stake high above her head. “You won’t be laughing when I drive this into your twisted, maiden-seducing heart!”

“Weiss,” Blake said. “Do we really know that she goes around seducing maidens willy-nilly? I mean… I know she’s a vampire, but we probably shouldn’t just accuse people of maiden-seducing without proof. It’s a fairly serious accusation.”

“…” Weiss’s jaw clenched. “She is a maiden-seducing fiend, Blake. She tried to seduce my sister last year.”

Yang guffawed. “Tried? I was honestly amazed by how flexible she -”

“Silence!” Weiss screeched. “After you defeated her, my sister left our clan. She now wanders the world as an exile. I will avenge her and -”

Yang made a face. “Oh… about that. She’s not exactly an exile.” 

“What?” Weiss’s eyes widened in horror. “Don’t tell me you’ve turned her! You fiend! Was defiling her with your vampiric lust not enough? You had to turn her into a vampire as well? There is no end to your villainy, is there?”

"You know, I’ll be honest with you. She and I still, you know, enjoy each other on a regular basis, but I did not turn her into a vampire. She works for me now, taking out vampires who don’t obey the rules. She’s very good at it.”

The sound of Weiss’s teeth grinding together was loud enough for all of them to hear. “I will put an end to you, villain, and free my sister!”

“Weiss, maybe we’re not approaching this in the right way,” Blake began. When Weiss tried to lunge at Yang, Blake grabbed her by the wrist. “Weiss, calm down. You can’t let her get to you. For all we know, she’s just saying whatever she thinks will make us mad, so we lose our cool.”

“Oh…” Yang snickered. “It looks like the kitty has claws.”

“That’s it.” Blake stepped forward. “Give me the stake, Weiss. I’ll kill her myself.”

“It looks like someone is a little touchy about being compared to a cat,” Yang teased. “But if the shoe fits… or should I say, if the ears fit?”

It was a testament to just how fast Blake was that Yang only dodged her attack by about a foot. The dark-haired huntress simply blurred forward, and Yang stepped neatly to one side as one magic-enhanced foot pulverised the spot she’d been standing in. But Blake wasn’t done yet. Dozens of paper seals floated through the air.

“Nice kitty.” Yang patted Blake on the head and then flipped backward as a sword threatened to cut her in half. “Actually, bad kitty.”

“Stop calling me a cat.” Blake clasped her hands together. “Belladonna Sealing Technique: Hundred Explosion Nightmare.”

Yang tilted her head to one side as the paper seals rushed toward her. “You know, I really don’t think you’ve got a hundred of those seals of yours. And why do ninjas always shout out their techniques?”

Blake just smirked and pointed at the ground.

Yang looked down and smiled. Clever girl. Somehow, Blake had managed to transfer the writing from dozens of paper seals onto the floor where she was standing. “Not bad.”

The resulting explosions shook the manor to its foundations, blew out all of the windows, and sent every door in the vicinity flying off its hinges.

X     X     X

Weiss covered her face with her arm as the shockwave of Blake’s attack threatened to overwhelm the barrier she’d hastily thrown up. The other huntress was extremely skilled, and that attack had to have done some damage. As the explosions began to taper off, Weiss prepared to move forward when she realised there was someone else there.

“Oh, thank goodness Gerald is okay.” 

Weiss turned. The woman standing behind her had dark hair and silver eyes, and she was holding the massive grandfather clock that had been near the top of the stairs with one arm. “Wait… who are you?”

The woman scratched the back of her head with one hand and set the grandfather clock down gently. “I’m Ruby.”

“Ruby.” Weiss nodded. “Oh. Wait!” She leapt back and jabbed her blessed stake in the direction of Ruby. “You’re an ancient vampire too! You’re the sister of that maiden-seducing, sister-corrupting, vampiric fiend!”

“You mean Yang?” Ruby asked.

“…”

“But, yeah, she’s my big sister.” Ruby smiled sunnily. “And, just for clarification, are you here because she seduced your sister or because she seduced you?”

“What?” Weiss squawked. “Because she seduced my sister! She has yet to lay so much as a single vampiric finger on my person!”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“It is?” Weiss blurted.

“Yeah, because I think you’re pretty cute, and it’d be a shame if she got to you first.”

Weiss’s eye twitched. “Don’t underestimate me, vampire! I am not some helpless -” Weiss stopped talking because she realised that something was wrong. She was no longer holding the stake that had been carved out of a branch of the world tree and blessed by seven holy maidens. Ruby was holding it, and Ruby and the grandfather clock were now on the other side of her. “What did you just do?”

“Well… I walked over with Gerald, he’s the grandfather clock, by the way, and I took your stake. Except I did it super fast. So fast you didn’t notice.”

“Impossible!” Weiss growled. “I am an elite huntress. I have honed my senses to their limits, and I am currently enhanced by at least a dozen runes. There is no way that -”

“Hmm…” Ruby was suddenly right in front of her with a smile on her face. “You know, you should smile more. I think you’d have a lovely smile, but I have to admit, you look pretty nice when you’re angry too.”

“Gah!” Weiss howled. “Stop doing that.” She drew her rapier. “Prepare for death, villain!”

“You keep calling me and my sister villains, but you’re the ones who broke into someone’s manor, knocked down the doors, and almost blew up Gerald. I’d say that makes you the villains, doesn’t it?”

“What we do,” Weiss replied. “We do for the good of society.” She lunged forward only for Ruby to dodge. Her next half a dozen blows met with similar lack of success. “Stand still, so I can stab you.”

“Okay.” Ruby stopped, and Weiss gaped in disbelief as her blade pierced right through the vampire’s chest. Still smiling, Ruby reached out and caught Weiss’s wrist in one hand. The strength in her grip was telling. Ruby was being gentle, but she could crush Weiss’s hand into pulp if she so chose. “So… now what?”

“Um… if I pull my rapier out of your chest will you let go of my hand?” Weiss squeaked.

“I don’t know,” Ruby said, not the least bit bothered by the rapier stuck in her chest. “You did stab me in the chest.”

“…” Weiss searched her mind for something, anything she could use to bargain her way out of this. Finally, her desperate mind latched onto the one small glimmer of hope she had. “I have a cookie in my satchel! If I give it to you, will you let me go?”

“If it’s a good cookie, I just might.”

X     X     X

Blake took several deep breaths as she waited for the dust to clear. Weiss was currently attempting to bribe another ancient vampire with a cookie, but Blake couldn’t afford to take her attention off the dust cloud for even a second. Ancient vampires were immensely powerful, and although she’d hit Yang the Defiler (a name Weiss had come up with) with enough explosions to destroy most vampires several times over, she wasn’t about to relax until she had confirmation that Yang had been defeated. At the very least, she should have taken major damage. if she hadn’t, Blake would be in trouble. Seals were difficult to put onto anything that hadn’t been prepared beforehand, and transferring so many onto the stone floor so quickly had definitely dented her magical reserves.

As the dust cleared, she caught a glimpse of a crater and then -

“Not bad.” Yang cracked her neck and stretched her shoulders. “I actually felt that.”

“…” Blake stared and tried not to stare at the same time. “Do you realise you’re naked?”

“And whose fault is that? I’m an ancient vampire, so I’m practically invincible. The same doesn’t go for my clothes.” Yang smirked. “What? Do you like what you see?”

Blake glared. “Yes.” Her eyes widened. “I mean no. I mean... shut up.”

“Yang,” the other ancient vampire shouted. “Put on some clothes. We’re not savages.”

“Hey, I had clothes. Blame Little Miss Kitty here for blowing them up.”

“Don’t call me a cat!”

“Does your perversion know no limits?” Weiss wailed. “Put on some clothes!”

“How about you stop staring?” Yang asked. “Unless you like what you see?”

“Shut up!” Weiss roared.

“Yang,” the other vampire whined. “You already have the cat. Let me have this one!”

“Stop calling me a cat!”

Yang laughed. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years.” She smiled. “Look, how about we make a deal?”

“I don’t make deals with -”

Yang darted forward too fast for Blake to react and seized her by the wrist. “You really want to make a deal.”

Blake’s eyes widened. “I… fine. What kind of deal?”

“Since it’s obvious that you and Weiss there aren’t properly prepared to fight two vampires of our power and standing, how about we let you go? You can come back next week and give it another shot. What do you say?”

“What?” Blake asked. “You’d just let us go?”

“When you’ve lived as long as I have,” Yang replied. “You come to treasure fun moments like this. I imagine I’ll have even more fun if you two have a chance to prepare a bit better.”

“Fine,” Blake hissed. “Weiss, we’re going.”

“But…”

“Weiss, we’re not going to win this today. We should withdraw and come back later.”

“Okay.” Weiss sighed. “You’re right.”

“Wait…” the other vampire said, holding one hand out. “Before you go…” Weiss handed the vampire a cookie. “Thank you. And, just to be clear, are you coming back next Friday? I’d like to be around since this was so much fun.”

“Yes,” Weiss said with a sigh. “We’re coming back next Friday.” She paused dramatically. “So enjoy the last week of your lives, villains!”

“…” Blake stepped away from Yang, and the vampire let her go. “Weiss, that would be more intimidating if they hadn’t basically kicked our asses.”

X     X     X

Ruby watched the two huntresses go and smiled. “That was fun, wasn’t it, Yang?”

“Yep.”

“So… about next Friday, are you going to call Winter back?”

“Damn straight.” Yang snickered. “Maybe I’ll ask her to come in a maid outfit too. That would just drive Weiss nuts.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Vampires are serious and noble creatures, supernatural beings of terrible might and grand demeanour. Or most of them are. If Ruby and Yang ever became vampires, they would definitely not be the most conventional vampires.

Consider this a little nod to Halloween. We’re not far off now.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon. Please check out my newest story on Amazon. It’s called Monster Whisperer. If you enjoy my sense of humour you might also want to check out Attempted Vampirism, or The Unconventional Heroes series.

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man v2 #8 Thoughts

meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh

You must forgive me as this post will be more of a list than I’ve been doing in recent ‘thoughts’ posts. This is because I prefer to write these posts ASAP after reading the issues but unfortunately I read this on the train home then had to head off for work straight after. Then stuff happened that delayed me writing this post until now. Consequently my memories aren’t entirely fresh and I’m going off bullet points I jotted down before hitting the sack. With that said…

·         We frustratingly get little momentum on the most interesting thing in this title which is Aunt May’s condition.

·         The art is better in this issue than in the last one which is weird because I checked and it is the same team. The title does miss Juan Cabal a lot though.

·         It’s just lovely seeing Hobie Brown back and utilized in a pretty classic way. He going about heroic things in a morally flexible way, which is how I think his character works best rather than as a straight antagonist or protagonist, at least within the context of guest appearances in Spidey titles.

·         I wasn’t sure at first reading this issue if Hobie was in character or if he was contradicting the last time we saw him. Now I’ve not read every Prowler story but the ones I have read have consistently portrayed him as a reformed villain, someone who might work for mercenaries like Silver Sable but never cross the line like in his debut. To that end I question him going Robin Hood here. It’s not that ethically he’s exactly doing anything wrong. He’s taking money from an evil man who hurt people to get his wealth and is using that money to help an innocent person. Then when they don’t make it he uses his skills to bend a few laws in pursuit of justice. It’s not that different to what Spidey has done to be honest, he’d just never steal money outright. But is it out of character? I’ll need to think about that a bit more. However it did line up with when we last saw Hobie. I’d not read the issue so I skimmed it for this post and Prowler #6 leaves us in such a place wherein his character going this direction would make sense. For the record that issue (the only issue of the series I bothered with) was surprisingly good I’d recommend giving it a read.

·         I find it a little questionable Spidey would forget Mindy’s name. They’ve had a few significant interactions before now, including when Spidey helped Hobie to heal from being seemingly disabled.

·         It’s weird that Spider-Man would bust in Hobie’s door and go in gun’s blazing. It doesn’t really line up with their friendship over the years even if Hobie is now on the wrong side of the law as Spider-Man suspects.

·         The comic claims Spider-Man is a bad crime solver but that simply isn’t true, he’s displayed examples of great detective work in the past. Similarly it’s questionable to assert Hobie is more experienced at breaking into places than Spider-Man. The comic treats Prowler as someone with a long villain history when he really stopped being a criminal after his first story and spent every other story in stops and starts as a crime fighter or at least a mercenary for Silver Sable. So really Peter would have more experience breaking into places.

·         Do security hubs really not have their own cameras? Genuine question, I find it hard to believe.

·         The abrupt ending of last issue was retroactively made more abrupt by this issue picking up after the action scene ending the last issue had wrapped up. It’s pretty lame.

·         The new villain has a weird look. I dunno if I like it. He’s like a knock off Robot Master. It’s also frankly less interesting to have a villain who’s this weird Minority Report precog/Robocop dude rather than regular shitty small time business people. His name ‘Fairgray’ ain’t much better.

·         The Rumour is boring at this point and Taylor seems to think she’s much cooler than she actually is. She’s not even bothering to conceal her costume in parts of the comic.

All in all a step down from last issue. Still better than the Under York shite we had before but very meh.

[btslols]

Ingenious | BTS PrivateSchool!au

Genre: romance, angst.

Warnings: Bad language, violence, mental health issues, sex, alcohol

Snowflakes all around, like glistening gems falling from the sky, it would be a cosy Christmas for the students at Silver Creek; or at least the very few who had not been able to go home for the holidays.

Christmas had rolled around quicker than ever, exams being the main black hole of focus for the students. It felt, for those still left at school that the festive bug had not yet caught them.

Y/N, unfortunately, was one of the teenagers having to brave the cold weather in the dorm rooms accompanied by her close friend Sophie, a girl with money rooted in her blood. Like most of the pupils at Silver Creek Academy Sophie had brought her way in and often soured when teachers mentioned Y/N’s scholarship for outstanding intelligence and understanding in the art of languages.

24th December, Christmas Eve

“Y/N! Y/N! ONE DAY UNTIL CHRISTMAS! WAKE UP YOU BUTT”

“Ugh Sophie! Give me a break girl“

Ever since you arrived at Silver Creek a few years ago Sophie had made a point to wake the dormitory at the crack of dawn, regardless of the disapproving reactions she usually got.

“DID YOU KNOW THE BOYS FROM KNENNINGTON HOUSE ARE STILL HERE!?!? We’re not the only fifth years left!”

"Oh what Hobi’s friends?” You sat up straight to face the plump blonde girl sat on the end of my bed.

“yes those guys, but don’t touch they’re mine”

“So what’s the plan?” You asked, curious as to what ideas she had conjured up in true Sophie Sparks fashion and amused by her evident crushes on the boys.

She then explained how she had decided you would make your famous gingerbread cookies that you would then eat at dinner. Of course the lack of other students would make you visible to the Kennington boys who should come over for a delicious cookie. Ingenious really.

6pm,

“and then she wanted to ...”

“and there they are” Sophie interrupted whilst pointing at the boys walking in, laughing and smiling. 

The Christmas spirit had clearly overtaken them in the form of ugly sweaters and cracker hats that fell as they moved. Sophie continued to stare at them as they sat down behind me. 

“damn. Start munching bitch” she handed me a cookie and we continued to gossip about a certain girl in our dorm. 

“HEY Y/N? Can I have one pretty please?” 

You refocused from Sophie to Jung Hoseok; a bold and energetic boy that You had many classes with a few years ago, the class clown if you will. Thankfully you had remained close friends with him and his group throughout the past few years, much to Sophie’s dismay.

“Oh sure” You grinned at him and held out the biscuit tin. 

“Hey! what about me?” Jimin, a dance major, appeared behind him.

“Be my guest” You say as they sat down.

It wasn’t long before the rest of their friends had sat down with us, chatting with us joyfully.

“Aren’t you the girl with the scholarship for languages and stuff?” Namjoon asked. Namjoon however, was the one not that I had never really spoken to before.

“Haha yes that’s me”

“oh wow, that’s really impressive. You’re in my English and Japanese class I think?”

“Thankyou, and mm yeah I think so, I’m usually too tired to take notice of the lesson let alone the people in there hahaha.” 

“Well...you always impress me with your skills” 

“awh thank..”

Sophie stood up sharply and stomped out of the dining room with a heavy sigh, mumbling rapidly under her breath.

“What’s going on with her?” Min Yoongi questioned.

“She always gets like that when someone mentions my scholarship.”

“oh what, because she’s rich and not intelligent like you?” 

“Yeah”

“Y/N, are you the only fifth year girl left?” Kim Seokjin raised his eyebrow and motioned towards you with half a cookie.

“yeah, just me, Soph and a few hyper first years downstairs, who I’m refusing to babysit by the way, they can stay up all night for as much as I’m bothered, But I guess Sophie won’t be staying tonight if this situation goes down how it usually does” 

“oh right, well if you want some company I’m very happy to come and I’m sure the other boys will too. All the teachers have gone home now anyway, we won’t get caught”

“But what about the younger girls?”

“We’ll make sure they don’t say anything don’t worry ”

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to do this Jin”

“Oh shut up, I’m not letting any girl be alone on christmas eve”

“Oh ok then, thank you” You smiled and offered him another cookie which he gladly took.

8pm,

“I’m going home” Sophie announced whilst picking up her designer suitcase and handbag.

“Ah so I gathered” You replied and sat on my bed.

“Y/N! Love Actually or Elf?” Hoseok burst through the wooden door with DVD cases in either hand.

“Bringing boys into the dormitory now are we?” Sophie tutted and push past Hoseok with her head held high. 

“Damn” he remarked with raised brows.

“haha Love Actually, OF COURSE” replied and ran to the common room to join the rest of them.

By 10pm Y/N had fallen into a deep slumber against the arm of the well-loved sofa in the common room. The fires heat blazing against her skin and the unconscious caress of Kim Taehyung around her ankle in his still lap.

Only the sixth year boys were still awake, having a meaningful heart-to-heart about the past year. It had been one with lows, but also unbelievable highs that made each other and their families proud. 

Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi and Kim Namjoon have decided they would be going to university next year whilst Jung Hoseok had decided to go travelling and explore his roots in South Korea amongst other places.

They laughed and drank their eggnog in high spirits as their eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier and heavier.

25th December, Christmas Day

You woke up to the unpleasant yet somehow adorable squealing and screaming from the first years downstairs. 

“Merry Christmas Y/N” Taehyung whispered as he watched you wake up.

“Merry Christmas” You smiled and gave him a friendly hug. Although he returned a soft squeeze he did so with a mournful expression.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“The kids just remind me of how the parents stop caring when you get to our age. They just send you away and pretend you don’t exist for five years” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. None of us have been sent a Christmas gift from our families since we left Korea 5 or 6 years ago”

“Awh, nevermind, I haven’t got anything either haha”

He chuckled and sat up straight, moving my legs off his lap, walking over the other maroon sofa and waking up his friends.

“What do you call a man who claps at christmas?” Jin holds the small peice paper up.

“I don’t know?” 

“Santaapplause” he broke into hysterics making everyone else laugh with him.

Ring. Ring. Your phone sounded and everyone’s fun  to stare at you.

“Answer it then. None of us get Christmas calls” Namjoon said with an undertone if jealousy.

You flip over your mobile and see who’s calling. Sophie Sparks.

“Merry Christmas!” She says overly seeetly and obviously insencire.

“Merry Christmas?” You question.

“Yeah, so my parents are, of course, disgusted by your behaviour yesterday and have contacted Mrs Hail to request you expelled. So honey, enjoy your Christmas but don’t forget that with grades like yours you’re bound to be gone in the next month”

”ugh! You bitch”

She hung up.

She wasn’t wrong though; you had been falling behind in a couple of your classes due to your want of a better social life. It was worth it but now it was probably going to bite back. The only choice you had now was to succeed far beyond academic expectations so that the school had no choice but to keep you.

“Who was that?“ Jimin asked.

“No one don’t worry”

“Ah ok. I think the grinch is on TV, you guys wanna watch?”

The room echoed with sarcastic “woo”s and “hell yeah”s from the other boys, you watched as Jimin’s expression dropped and he turned to pout at you.

“I’ll watch it with you” you giggle and pat the seat next to you, preparing for his descent.

“Thankyou” he mumbled and put his arm around your shoulders.

“Ummm Y/N has boys in the common room!“ you heard a young voice say.

The first years had appeared by the stairwell sporting their new attire, including mainly onesies and deelyboppers.

“Oh my gosh, my mummy says boys only want one thing and that’s what’s in your pants” another fresh faced girl joins in.

“Girls either shut up or go back to your dorms” You say.

“Nuh-uh we’re going to tell Mrs Hail about this” The girl replies.

“Too bad she’s not here, now do as Y/N says and go back to your dorms before I inform someone more important than Mrs Hail about your non-compliance. You’d get in a lot of trouble believe me.“ Jin warned the group of girls. They scurried off without questioning the older boy.

“WoW they’ve really got it in for me today haven’t they, thanks Jin.“

He nodded politely and continued to make his coffee in the remarkably petite kitchen.

11pm,

The rest of the day was full of merry banter for the teenagers at silver creek. Y/N had not once thought about Sophie’s threat as she had been much too occupied by the practical jokes and amusing conversations with the Kennington boys.

She had not even realised that snow had fallen and blessed her with a white Christmas until Jung Hoseok had taken her onto the balcony late that night after everyone had fallen asleep. It was no secret that Hoseok had a soft spot for Y/N; always chatting to her when she was sat alone and always succeeding in making her laugh or at least smile. She however never saw the other side to Jung Hoseok, always taking him as a cheerful and happy kind of man.

They sat there enclosed in the white fluffy blanket they found in the dormitory sipping their hot cocoas and discussing things like the future and the past, their friends and their wishes. She thinks that perhaps the last time they had spoken like this was years ago when they were barely 11 and 12. Of course, much had changed, he now wanted to be a professional dancer or performer, in the west end he said, and she wanted to be a writer or a teacher, she hadn’t decided yet. He reassured her that it’s only natural not to know at that age what you wanted to do for the rest of your life, always making sly jokes about the age gap of a year, painting himself as a much wiser man than he was.

“I must say it’s been a marvellous Christmas Y/N. I usually don’t enjoy it because it feels like I’m away from home, but this year I think I felt at home more with you and the guys than I used to with my own family”

No reply. Hoseok had been talking to himself for the past five minutes whilst Y/N had fallen asleep against him and the door behind them. Once again his half confession had been subsided by Y/N without her even realising. Christmas had drawn to a solemn close for Jung Hoseok.

 It felt for him as though he was on top of a skyscraper only to be pushed off by the force of loneliness.

[davidcampiti]

A LIFE WITHOUT STAN LEE? -- Part One

This is the first month of my life without Stan Lee alive in it.

I think it’s appropriate to post this essay today, on Stan Lee’s birthday, the first one without him actually here to celebrate it. I couldn’t bring myself to write about Stan the day he died, just shy of 96 years old, and the week and month that followed were no better. Today I can put down some thoughts.

I am a child of Stan Lee. His work with Jack Kirby and John Romita appeared in the first comic book I remember reading – the Marvel-produced America’s Best TV Comics, a 25-cent comicbook that promoted the ABC Saturday morning cartoons.   It's one of the first powerful memories of childhood that have stayed with me for all this time.

Across my formative years, Stan Lee's words encouraged me to learn, to read more of everything -- not just comics. I spent much of my early years in the library and ordering Scholastic books every month through school. I read everything -- fiction, biographies, histories, science books.

Yet I grew up loving the comics that blazed brightly with his public persona and, while my parents toiled at just earning a living and staying alive, I learned much from "The Man." Stan taught me a lot about being a decent human being. It wasn't all, "With great power there must also come...great responsibility," though that was there, as well.

In recent years we corresponded a bit about the morals and messages of his words in his scripts, his Stan's Soapbox, and his many lectures and interviews. I told him we should assemble a book, Everything I Know, I learned From Stan Lee.

He wrote back -- "The paperback you suggested, 'Everything I Know I Learned from Stan Lee,' sounds like it could be funny. Especially if it consists of only one page with only one thing learned -- how to spell 'Excelsior!' Keep the faith, David. You're one of the good guys! Excelsior! Stan"

We discussed it a bit more but, soon after, Stan's eyesight worsened and he stopped answering his own mail; whoever took over had no idea what we'd been talking about. I let the idea drop.

Back when I was 12, I decided my career goal was to work with Stan Lee. Eventually, I achieved that goal but not by submitting stories in my teens and 20s but much later in my life, as an agent and book author. By the time I was 14, he'd gone from editor-in-chief to Publisher -- which meant he'd need more writers, right?

The first time I met Stan Lee and got to take a photo with him, I looked up at him and said, “Smile, and look as much like my Uncle as you can.” He laughed and gave my artist friend Scott Rockwell and me a good half-hour of his time, looking at art and answering questions. That was in 1978 – fully 40 years ago – and I remember it all as if it were yesterday. Stan was a memorable guy who could make you feel like the most important person in the room. I only wish I still had that photo; maybe Scott has it buried somewhere.

Four years later, I sold my first professional comics scripts to Pacific Comics and two years after that was writing a Superman assignment for DC with Kevin Juaire. Instead of ending up at Marvel as I’d hoped – which would’ve required moving to New York and being involved in daily office politics – I became a comics packager, then a publisher, then an agent. That’s how Stan knew me professionally, as a writer and an artist’s agent.

In early 1989, at a Capital City Distribution trade show, my Innovation Publishing was set up promoting the books we would be releasing into comics shops in a few weeks.  Stan was walking by, and I suggested to my assistant Paul Curtis that we should invite Stan to dinner.  He ran over, asked, and Stan said yes!  He not only brought along Carol Kalish and regaled us with two hours of stories about life at Marvel, Stan insisted that Marvel pay for the meal!  Nobody thought to bring a camera, but the memories stayed with us.  As I recall, Steve Sullivan, Paul Curtis and his girlfriend Amy, and I were the happy Innovation team at that dinner.  Kevin VanHook came on the trip but was elsewhere at that time.  He made up for it later at a party by chatting on a couch with Stan and later dancing with Carol.

In the '90s, Stan and I would chat at every opportunity at conventions.

When Marvel released a limited edition hardcover reprint of his 1947 book Secrets of the Comics, I decided to give in to my fannish impulses and use its endpapers as my autograph book.

Stan, of course, was the first to sign it in 1996, and a batch of Silver Age stalwarts followed.

By then we made it a point to get photos together every year across two decades. It was a clear timeline of the both of us getting older.

As the internet blossomed, I helped Stan a little when he first joined AOL. He asked me how AOL Instant Messenger worked, how to turn it on when he wanted to communicate and off when he didn’t want to be bombarded with Messages, and so on. Another time, an article he wanted to read was behind a login/password, and he asked me help get him through that. It tickled me to help Stan “The Man” with such basic web-things.

From the mid-'90s through the early 2000s, Stan would call the Glass House offices about once a month to ask for my perspective on what was going on in the comics biz, since we dealt not only with all the Marvel editors but everyone else as well. Real conversations, not the "'Nuff said, Pilgrim!" stuff. He'd graciously take an extra few minutes to chat with my assistant Graeme, who loved talking to his childhood icon.

Around 1997, Marvel's savvy publisher asked Glass House to create two dozen project proposals for a line of second-tier titles that my company would package. We ended up over-achieving and submitted 28 of them -- one of them for the first-tier Fantastic Four that I understood we had little chance of getting, but I had to try. The art was Joe Bennett's doing a Kirbyesque style.

Stan was kind enough to read over my FF proposal/outline and fine-tune my dialogue for the pages, before I submitted.

Likely worried about how an outside packager controlling so many titles would affect his own position, the editor-in-chief buried all 28 projects until, two years later, he assigned an editor to reject every proposal outright; that editor told me my FF dialogue didn't capture the essence of the characters -- not realizing the words were Stan's.

(Sidebar:  It was so ridiculous, that editor even rejected a proposal that another Marvel editor already saw, bought, and published!)

When Meryl and I got married in 2001, Stan sent us a gift -- a lemon cake and a note saying he wished he could've made it to the wedding. We still have the note; we ate the cake.

In 2006, Stan's POW! Entertainment launched Who Wants to be a Super-Hero? on The Sci-Fi Channel, and my Glass House Graphics contributed all the cover artwork for both seasons of the TV show. We even drew the comicbooks that starred both winners -- Matthew Atherton and Jarrett Crippen, both of whom became our friends.

When my friend, then-GHG artist Will Conrad, worked with him on the Dark Horse Feedback comic book, Stan took the time personally to choose Will out of our roster of artists, and to phone him in Brazil for a long talk before sending him the plot. (And yes, it was a full page-by-page plot.) They spoke several times during Will's month working on the book, each time helpful and upbeat.

The second book, with The Defuser, was more problematic. The network and producers weren't honoring their commitments to the winner, so I reached out to Stan who said, "I don't see any compelling reason to bother doing it, since we weren't renewed for a third season." I replied, "Because you said you would? Because you have the power to do it, and with great power there must also come great responsibility?" He made it happen, and Glass House Graphics's Kajo Baldissimo did the art.

We also drew the box art and insert comic books for multiple DVD animation projects that POW! released, with art by GHG's fabulous Fabio Laguna.

Stan always made time to meet privately with my artists, and my family, for which I was always grateful.

Of course when Comics Buyer’s Guide published a big feature issue for Stan’s 75th Birthday, I contributed an essay and hired the great Marie Severin to do a caricature cover for it and sent Stan a giant print of the art.

Around the time of Stan's 90th birthday celebration, I had Tina Francisco create a new birthday cover for Comics Buyer's Guide, and I penned a long article about him, too.

Of course, we sent to Stan a poster of the color art, and he sent back this card -- as always, written in his own handwriting.

TO BE CONTINUED -- IN PART TWO!

[demalore]

Snake Eyes

A fanfic (i guess?) about Greek Mythology

Apollo, God of the Arts, Master of Muses, Charioteer of the Sun Itself, was helplessly into hentai.

“It's an art form!” he argued internally against the shaming voice in his head. The other gods would never let him live this one down if they found out. Not even Poseidon, although, let's be real, he had to be into some shit.

Apollo was determined, as most gods are, to see his unspeakable desires fulfilled, by any means necessary. Consulting a fellow deity was out of the question, and he didn’t know a single mortal who could keep their mouth shut. But there was one individual Apollo knew who was so wretched, so despised, and so introverted, that she couldn’t spread even the juiciest Olympian gossip. Too bad she wasn't very happy to see him.

“Haven't you dickheads humiliated me enough?” Medusa snarled at Apollo’s reflection in her full-length mirror. She had a nice collection of mirrors at this point--mementos from would-be vanquishers--and had nothing better to do with them. Despite her damnation, Medusa was far from ugly. She could no longer count her hair or eyes among her more attractive features, but should one avoid her hypnotic stare, they would be transfixed nonetheless by her kingly cheekbones and chiseled jaw. Her arms were toned nicely after centuries of battling Greece’s finest warriors and, afterwards, lugging their remains out of her cave. Even her snakes’ scales shimmered, coils of rainbows spilling over her shoulders.

A few of her snakes turned to face Apollo while he made his proposition. Medusa kept her back to him, refusing to grant him any more of her attention than necessary. When he had finished explaining herself, she answered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I kid not, fair Medusa,” Apollo crooned. His eggshell tunic dripped from his chiseled body, held up by a sun-shaped brooch and a stupid amount of god-magic. “On this fair day, your beauty been found worthy in the eyes of Olympus.”

Medusa tilted her mirror to look at the intruder’s face, but she could only see half of it clearly. Something black and reflective was covering Apollo’s eyes. “There's some...device, on your head.”

Apollo whipped the pair of sunglasses off. A second pair immediately materialized in its place. “Gotta have shades, when your other ride’s the sun. And you didn't think I’d come without protection, did you, ‘Dusey?””

Electricity darted between Medusa’s narrowed eyes. “Call me ‘’Dusey’ again,” she muttered, turning to Apollo, stepping over her throne of skeletal remains, “and I'll smite those ‘shades' from your hideous upturned nose!”

Apollo's nose rose a bit higher. “Please, love. Those pretty peepers of yours wouldn't give me anything worse than a headache. Me being a god, and all that. There's only one part of me that you can make hard.” Without warning, Apollo thrust himself at his target, eliminating any confusion as to which part he referred to.

Medusa’s grimace was nearly as deadly as her gaze. She had weathered swords, axes, and bare fists; all were more pleasant than Apollo’s insatiable groin against hers. His hands were on her left shoulder and right buttock before she could pull away. Apollo’s trouser snake squirmed unpleasantly underneath his tunic. Medusa couldn’t shake off his grip, but luckily, she had a trouser snake of her own.

Apollo’s ‘yipe!’ of pain was most unbefitting a god. A mirthless smile crept up onto Medusa’s translucent cheeks. Apollo whined as she leaned forward, claws pressing into his chest. Medusa cocked her head and fiddled with the edge of his sunglasses. With a flick of her finger, she sent the glasses to the cave floor, and relished the fear in Apollo’s eyes. The taste in her snake’s mouth was horrid, but it was well worth it.

“Is something the matter, ‘Paul?” Medusa asked in her husky, slithering voice. “Or did you need more protection after all?”

Apollo returned to Olympus like a beaten puppy, his usually fashionably-loose robes tied tightly about his waist. He almost envied Prometheus. Even he was never without his manhood.

It would take mere days for Apollo’s godflesh to heal, but his pride wasn't so quickly repaired. Back in his bachelor pad, he raised a silver chalice to his lips, collected his thoughts, then whispered into the vessel:

Medusa the Gorgon, no man will dare wed, else he meet his untimely end.

Sure, it didn’t really rhyme, but he was impatient. And he was fucking Apollo, so who could even judge his poetry?

The silver chalice reverberated, and Apollo’s prophecy traveled down to the twine tethered at its bottom. The twine led far from Olympus, traveling through sunlight and dust motes, to the residence of Apollo’s Muses. An identical chalice rang until a Muse picked it up to receive the new prophecy.

Important prophecies had to be delivered by proper gods, but Apollo outsourced his more personal tasks to the Muses. He couldn’t be expected to hand-deliver every bit of artistic inspiration, he was a busy guy! So long as the Muse delivered the prophecy to a proper Oracle, it would be fulfilled, and Medusa would be permanently cockblocked.

But the Muses (who were sick of handling Apollo’s dirty laundry) had a particular, not-quite-proper Oracle in mind.

As far as the ability to see the future went, Cassandra had received better romantic gestures. Being an Oracle did come with a cushy job at any of Apollo’s temples, and that wasn’t anything to sneeze at. Cassandra loved her some fresh grapes and velvet couches (to hide the grape juice stains), but the job itself? Not so much.

See, everyone thought she sucked at her job. But really, it was everyone else who sucked at their…uh, critical thinking. Sure, it wasn’t their fault Apollo cursed Cassandra so that no one would believe her prophecies, but part of her still thought everyone was just being stupid. ‘Such and such army will attack at such and such place’, she’d tell them, and they’d laugh and call her a moron. And then the enemy launched a surprise attack (a surprise to everyone but Cassandra, that is) and the people blamed her for not warning them.

But apart from being constantly snubbed and vilified, yeah, it wasn’t a bad gig.

When the other Oracles weren’t busy blaming Cassandra for everything, she actually got along with them pretty well. After all, she was the one who had the idea to convince the townspeople that the stuff they were constantly burning in the temple was ‘incense’, something the gods definitely requested and not at all just dank Mediterranean weed. That perk alone made Apollo’s stupid curse almost worth it. Even some lesser deities would come to light up at the temple; that’s how good their shit was. So Cassandra wasn’t surprised to wake up to a Muse knocking at her door.

Cassandra rolled out of bed, pulled a gown over her bare chest, and opened the door. The faceless figure standing there was emitting a many-hued light, hovering two inches off the floor, and seemed to be sucking the color out of the space around them. Typical Muse stuff.

“Ey, what’s up, duder?” Cassandra asked groggily. “If you’re here to blaze a few, I’m totally down, just give me like a minute to find some pants and maybe some pita-“

“I am not here to blaze a few,” the Muse interrupted. Heavenly harp music accompanied their voice whenever they spoke, and unbidden tears welled in Cassandra’s eyes. Uck. “I have come to deliver a prophecy from Blessed Apollo. Although I would not be strongly opposed to partaking in a few dank nugs afterwards.”

“Shit, I don’t wanna work today.” Cassandra complained. She scratched her head, and her hand came away greasy. It had been at least a week since she had left her room to go to the public bathhouse. She was in no state to give a prophecy.

“Why’s Apollo even giving me a prophecy,” Cassandra continued groaning, “no one’ll listen.”

The Muse’s invisible harp quieted while the Muse recited the prophecy, exactly as Apollo had stated it.

“Hit me up when you’re done,” the Muse said as they departed in a burst of divine light, “I just got some new shit that’s ‘sposed to be wild…”

Cassandra blinked at the empty hallway. “Fine,” she said to no one, “but I’ll only do the prophecy because because I was promised weed, not because Apollo said so.”

        “Dish it,” Adonis ordered, pouring Melina an appropriately tall glass of wine. The fact of their friendship was, in and of itself, strange: they ran competing news blogs (scrolls that they handed out to anyone who walked by) and should’ve ostensibly been at each other’s throats. However, their shared love of gossip far outweighed their business interests, and they tended to share any particularly juicy tidbits with each other. Adonis didn’t know why Melina was being coy now.

“Adonis, you’re my friend and I love you,” Melina said, taking a few obliging sips of wine, “but you can’t be fucking trusted. Especially not with something like this.”

“Dish. It.” Adonis repeated. He was squirming in his chair. Other patrons of the gay wine bar shot them some curious glances, but no one appeared to be eavesdropping.

Melina grinned, and Adonis knew he had her. That, or the wine was finally working its magic. “Fine, but swear to me that you won’t go blabbing about it to your new boyfriend.”

Adonis froze. He dropped his eyes and became very interested in his designer sandals. “B-boyfriend?” he answered with practiced (but far from perfected) offhandedness. “I assure you I haven’t the faintest idea whom you could be referring to.”

“Hermes.”

Adonis cleared his throat. “If you mean Herman, then it was just the one night, and-“

“Oh, come, on Adonis,” Melina rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously still buying that ‘Herman’ shit? The guy has pet snakes and carries that weird curly staff. Who carries a staff anymore?”

Adonis’ face was as crimson as the wine, which Melina was now drinking with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, if you’re still in denial about banging a god,“--Adonis squeaked in protest—"then just promise me you won’t tell ‘Herman’.”

“Promise,” Adonis answered indignantly.

Melina lowered her head, posed like a sphinx, ready to pounce. “So…there’s been talk of a new prophecy out of Troy.”

“Prophecy? Yawn,” Adonis slumped back in his chair. “If it’s another one about Zeus’ cosmic dick fucking things up for the rest of us, then hon, y’all don’t need an Oracle to know that.”

“No, this is for real,” Melina continued, “this one’s from Cassandra.”

That caught Adonis’ interest. Cassandra may have been blackballed by most of the Olympic pantheon because of her falling-out with Apollo, but that only made her more popular among mortals. Damnation was very in these days. “What’d she predict this time? Is it more dirt on Apollo?”

“Better. She said some shit about how no one should try boning Medusa.”

“Like, the gorgon Medusa?” People were definitely staring at them now, but Adonis didn’t care.

Melina nodded. “And if it’s Cassandra who predicted that-“

“-Then dudes are gonna be piling up on her doorstep,” Adonis finished the thought. He himself had a few tasteless fantasies involving various daemons and monsters (didn’t everyone?), but even he would think twice about wooing Medusa. But by Cassandra’s track record, her prophecy would be sending Medusa more suitors than she could shake a stick at.

“Yeah, but so far it’s only hit the temple gossip circuit, so don’t-“

“Sure, sure, I promised, didn’t I?”

“Because if the literal god of messengers finds out-“

“He’s not, and I won’t!”

Within three days, half of Greece had heard Cassandra’s prophecy. Whether it had anything to do with a certain god’s recent visit to Earth for a night of romance, and a certain blogger’s inability to walk for the week afterwards, one can only speculate.

Ironically, Medusa was one of the last people to find out. She had a blog of her own; it was primarily an Apollo hate blog with the occasional aesthetic post. But it wasn’t super popular, on account of no traveling merchant being brave enough to visit her cave and exchange scrolls. For that same reason, she wasn’t plugged in to the local gossip scene.

When she did get a visitor who wasn’t Apollo, it was some dickbag hero looking for glory, and she didn’t keep them around long enough to get any news out of them. She didn’t take them for much of conversationalists anyway.

She was curious, though, about her sudden influx of visitors. Out of the blue, she was getting dozens of men at her cave on a daily basis. Even stranger were their intentions—instead of slaying her, they were all wanted to marry her. At first, she had dismissed it as an ineffective trick to catch her off guard, and she added them to her statue collection without a second thought. When they kept coming, she thought it had to be some sick joke. She had pissed Apollo off pretty bad this time, maybe he was sending her ‘suitors’ just to taunt her. There was one way to find out, but it involved talking to men instead of killing them outright. Hardly seemed worth it, but she missed the peace and quiet.

“What’s your deal, anyway?” Medusa tried to dodge her latest gentleman caller’s advances, but it was difficult to do with her hand covering her eyes. She didn’t trust the guy not to try to stare longingly into her eyes, no matter how infamously deadly they were. That was something guys tried to do with chicks they liked, right? Medusa hadn’t given the romantic habits of men much thought.

“I seek nothing less than to make you my bride, noble Medusa!” Guy #54 professed, grappling Medusa around her waist. He didn’t seem to mind being dragged around the cave, neither did he mind Medusa’s attempts to shake him off.

“Sure, I got that bit, but why? Why all the sudden interest in getting me hitched?”

“Have you not heard, m’lady?” Guy #54 asked, continuing to sport a formal tone as he was dragged through the dirt. “The Oracle Cassandra has prophesied that the man who weds you will be met with great misfortune; but, knowing her prophecies to be wholly unreliable, I reasoned that to make you my bride would be most fortunate indeed!”

“You and everyone else,” Medusa muttered, looking over her recently expanded sculpture collection. She’d need a second cave, at this rate.

She tried prying more details from the poor sap, but he had spiraled into the same tired stream of compliments and professions of love. Yeuch. Medusa removed her hand and dealt with him as quickly as she had the others.

One more statue to deal with. But at least Medusa had a name to pin her misfortunes on: Cassandra. An Oracle, probably one of Apollo’s, prophesying for the sole purpose of tormenting her.

There was only so much Medusa could do about Apollo, but an Oracle, she could deal with.

        The one upside of every man in Greece falling in love with her was that it made getting directions very easy. All Medusa had taken with her from the cave was the pair of sunglasses Apollo had left behind on his most recent visit. Turns out they worked just as well in the opposite direction. Wearing them, she could pass through towns without petrifying everyone she saw and causing a riot. It made travel a breeze, but if she was being honest, she kind of missed the riots. What good was being a monster if you didn’t get to start riots?

The temple was a breeze to find. It was on the outskirts of Troy, centered around a few smaller towns, but stood on an isolated hillside, miles from any village. Good location, in any case, although Medusa wasn’t a fan of all the elaborate columns and arches. A cave was more practical, required far less upkeep.

Word of Medusa’s quest had traveled almost as fast as the prophecy. Medusa expected the temple to be empty, but a thick wall of smoke hit her as she opened the door and walked inside. There was no one to greet her at the temple entrance—indeed, not one person in the entrance hall. But smoke was continuing to billow from a room deeper in the temple, so someone had to be home.

Two steps in and the smoke was already giving Medusa a headache. She held her nose, and called out in a nasally voice, “I’ve come for the Oracle Cassandra! Step forth and receive your due!” She had already removed her glasses, prepared to deliver sweet revenge.

Medusa paused. Half a minute passed, with no response. Just as Medusa decided that the temple was, in fact, empty, a faint answer came from the internal chamber:

“Uhh, sorry, temple’s closed today, on account of…I dunno, man, god shit.”

Medusa squinted into the chamber, but the smoke was too thick for her to make out any distinct shapes. The speaker didn’t sound formal enough to be an Oracle, but Medusa had to admit she didn’t know any Oracles. Maybe they all sounded like stoners.

“Are you the one known as Cassandra?” Medusa continued in her haughty voice, thought she was still holding her nose in a rather uh-haughty-ish manner. She continued toward the source of the voice, the smoke around her growing thicker, more potent.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Medusa heard the speaker take a deep breath in, inhaling a substance likely related to the surrounding smoke cloud, and let out a long, satisfied sigh. “You the pizza man or somethin’? Whatever a pizza is, I think I could really go for one. Didn’t think it was invented yet…”

“You of all people should know who I am,” Medusa snarled. She had to walk with her hands held out in front of her to avoid running into the prayer shrines and offerings scattered on the temple floor. “I’m the one you’ve cursed with your gift of prophecy!”

“Gift?” Cassandra chuckled, but slowly, as if it took her a second to understand her own joke. “It’s a fuckin’ curse dude. That’s the whole deal. Don’t you know? Apollo hates my guts, he ain’t givin’ me gifts.”

“Apollo?” The name of her most hated enemy stopped Medusa in her tracks. “He cursed you, too?”

“Yee-up.” Medusa heard Cassandra stand up and approach her. A stout, yet graceful silhouette began floating out of the haze.

A second before Cassandra came into focus, Medusa flung her hands over her eyes. “Wait wait wait!” she insisted. Her righteous fury had melted into embarrassment. Hands still over her eyes, she danced in place, turning this way and that, trying to figure out how to get her sunglasses back on without accidentally turning Cassandra to stone.

“You okay, m- woah.” Medusa heard Cassandra stop, just a few steps ahead of her, certainly enough to see Medusa clearly. Medusa heard a low, almost melodic sound, and realized it was Cassandra whistling. “Sorry. You’re not a man at all, huh?”

The prophecy hadn’t said anything about women. That was convenient.

Medusa had the distinct impression that she was being stared at. “Just let me- cover your eyes for a second, okay?”

Cassandra chuckled again—a deep, raspy belly laugh that made Medusa’s insides writhe like they, too, were made of snakes. Medusa softly pressed her hands forward, making sure that Cassandra’s hands were safely covering her eyes.

Medusa looked. The figure before her—Cassandra—did not only meet the temple in regards to elegance, but far surpassed it. If Medusa had stopped to imagine what an Oracle looked like beforehand, it would’ve quite nearly been this. Medusa could tell at first glance that this was no common soldier’s wife, nor a widowed washerwoman; this was a lady of wealth, intellect, and charm. Golden hair flowed lazily down Cassandra’s back. Her figure was round with opulence, glowing in a way Medusa had attributed only to the gods, until now. She was tempted to remove Cassandra’s hands, just for a glimpse at her face.

Remembering herself, Medusa put her sunglasses back on before lowering Cassandra’s hands. She took her time meeting Cassandra’s eyes, letting her eyes linger on her gown, her soft, scented flesh. Finally, she plunged herself in Cassandra’s eyes, the first mortal eyes she had seen that were not made of stone.

They’re brown, Medusa thought. Her heart fluttered desperately against her chest. I didn’t know mortal eyes could be colored.

Cassandra was, understandably, confused. She blinked a few times, making sure that, no, the lady with hair made of snakes wasn’t just a drug-induced aftereffect. The snakes weren’t as off-putting as Cassandra may have expected. Medusa was so unlike any being she had ever come into contact with—and that was saying quite a bit, for an Oracle of the gods—but the expression on Medusa’s face was all too familiar.

The two women simultaneously understood what had driven Apollo to curse the other. Who wouldn’t feel spurned, to be denied such beauty?

Medusa’s hands lingered around Cassandra’s. Cassandra waited for her to speak, but Medusa was as still as her victims. Whatever the gorgon had been threatening to do before, it now seemed to be the farthest thing from her mind. Well, if Medusa wasn’t going to move, Cassandra would move her herself.

“Hup!” Cassandra linked her hands behind Medusa’s back and lifted her off the ground. Medusa was shocked by how warm Cassandra was against her own semi-cold-blooded flesh, and instinctively wrapped herself around her. Cassandra was stronger than she looked, and effortlessly carried Medusa to her private chambers.

“Now,” Cassandra crooned seductively, “tell me more about how much you hate Apollo.”