#i wonder if this is also fore shadowing

[timetravellingshinigami]

That time Marvel did a collab with Bleach and Tite Kubo drew Aizen in the same style of Lokis first poster.

[justanotherhh]

alastor aroace semiotics: symbols/metaphors/codes (oh my!)

thinking about some of the aroace subtext, both in terms of what's definitely intentional, and things that one can pick up on within the burgeoning field of "what the heck does aspec (in this case aroace) semiology even look like in (this particular) narrative?"

there's the really obvious one of course "ace in the hole." funny as well, because ace in the hole could also reference Alastor being the card you play as a hidden advantage (potentially hinting that Rosie knows that Alastor has his own agenda and supports that, like she does in the song). Of course "Alastor is ace" is the main point of the joke, because it's a sentence that comes a little out of nowhere, and clearly confuses Alastor, because he doesn't know Stuff

2. secondly, there's the pilot episode's placing Alastor first next to and then on top of the Ace of Spades. tbh if this was an accident, it sure was a serendipitous one, because the Ace of Spades not only refers to being ace, but specifically aroace (with Hearts meaning alloace, Diamonds meaning demiace, and Clubs meaning grey-ace <- t Ace of Diamonds/Clubs are a more open to interpretation, I've seen some also use them for demiromantic and greyromantic)

3. Body language! Alastor's reactions to being propositioned or involved in a sex joke, or having to listen to romance talk ranges from discomfort (glitching), to blunt refusal/shutting down of the conversation, to boredom/distraction. I haven't made a study of Alastor's body language in detail, but I'd be interested in how his smiles potentially shift when around very sexual and/or romantic discussion, regardless of whether he's the centre of that (but probably moreso if he is). I think this would come more to the fore in future seasons if there were examples beyond Angel Dust, who also made Husk uncomfortable in the first half of s1, but Alastor -- especially in the pilot -- had very visceral reactions to Angel's "flirting/joking," moreso than anyone else, until Angel had really gone too far with Husk in ep4 (and he come onto Alastor as strongly/invasively as he did with Husk)

4. Speaking of Angel... Alastor not being present outside of a flashback in all of episode 4, and not in episode 6 either. Both episodes featured sex heavily, including Angel showing off one of his pornos, and the gang going to a sex club. Also, Valentino was in both of them (makes sense, seeing as they were Angel-centric). I wonder what Alastor feels about Valentino's whole... existence. He's also the only main s1 hotel character to not be involved in the trust exercises that lead them to the bondage/SM club. this has nothing necessarily to do with the character, but he's very much placed outside of sexual scenarios and places by the writing/plot, which is fun to notice, especially in the first two examples, as his not being in the episodes isn't actually explained. No Alastor in the sex episodes, because his fourth wall sex repulsed senses were tingling?

5. boundaries and power fantasies. that is, Alastor is a character who has very clear boundaries and ways of enforcing them. from blowing up Sir Pentious when he grabs his coat, to noping out of any space he wants to, to seizing the narrative from Vox and telling the story on his terms, to shadow tentacles (ironic), nobody touches him emotionally/physically unless they're allowed. Niffty, Rosie, and Mimzy so far appear to be the ones who have crossed into that "allowed" space the most, but considering he lets everyone (barring Lucifer and Husk, who don't want to) hug him in the finale, some of those barriers are coming down, which is another interesting analysis to make at some point

these boundaries aren't all entirely healthy either -- the way he lashes out at Husk who seems to actually be trying to look out for him (which suggests that Husk is emotionally close-ish to him, enough that he didn't realise he was overstepping), and the way he breaks down in the finale, shows that his inability to be vulnerable in front of others is... not actually a good thing. I wrote a whole bunch about how this part of Alastor's writing play into a very aroace-in-feel narrative for him, but suffice to say... a story about someone with boundaries that seems to be completely absent of "romance/sex will fix you" is refreshing. and very aroace coded

there's also a power fantasy in the idea that one can simply bend the space to avoid ones boundaries being trampled over. to be able to either nope out of a room or to make oneself so terrifying that nobody would want to try to get up in your space... it's got a little smthinsmthin of a "wish it were me" in there. being repulsed means an often constant erosion and invasion of boundaries, from people making your disgust and/or obliviousness the centre of their sex jokes, to being hyper-scrutinised and challenged every time you do or don't let someone into your space in whatever way, or challenge their notions of what's "allowed" as an aroace person. sometimes you just want to say "Demonic Powers Be Upon Ye" and be done with it

6. An Absence. most often aspec narrative is defined by an absence of allo-narrative. that is, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, Cherri, Sir Pentious, Lucifer, are set up as allo-figures with romance and sex featuring more or less in all of their stories. the only hotel residents so far who don't have that going on are Alastor and Niffty, and Niffty's story has yet to have the foundations laid out for beyond the very bare bones, and she flirts with others (her "bad boy" preference). whatever Alastor's journey is, it's not coded as alloromantic or allosexual in any way, whether through casual jokes/flirting, or a longform romantic and sexual relationship exploration, with the possible exception of...

7. Vox. the characters that Alastor seems closest to in this story are Rosie, Mimzy, Niffty, Charlie, and Husk (with the mysterious figure that owns his soul looming in the back as well). out of them, none of them are coded as anyone he's sexually or romantically involve with or heading in that direction. the last figure in Alastor's life that's very heavily figured so far is Vox. And Vox is obsessed with Alastor in a way that absolutely can be read as a bad one-sided break-up/jilted stalker type framing, with Alastor gleefully recounting his "no" when talking about their past, and otherwise putting Vox out of his mind, while almost all of Vox' big character moments revolve around how much real estate Alastor takes up in his mind (literally, considering his error message is all Alastor messaging)

Vox being a figure who is symbolically the trampler of aroace boundaries is a very good way of showing Alastor's total disinterest and even disgust (depending on whether or not he knows that Vox was/is into him), and can act as a future potential interesting barometer for other characters to be "less" invasive, but still not quite getting it to begin with (see, Angel Dust's casual flirting, Charlie's tendency to see everything from her perspective, who knows how Cherri and Lucifer might fit into this equation, and generally the sex-and-romance framing of a lot of the other narratives)

8. I talked about aroaceness being a humanising factor to Alastor in my other big ol' post I did, just want to mention it here as well. so far it exists somewhat as a Potential, in the sense that we're firmly in s1 and there's still a lot of ways this could all go, but I think it's worth mentioning as a form of foundational signposting work that's been done for his character

he's more on the dark grey end of the grey scale of all of these characters, he's manipulative, sadistic, cruel when he wants to be, petty, selfish, likes being the centre of attention + is easily rankled when he's not, and presumably he went to hell because he killed people for kicks <- these traits are not unique to him, considering the setting, but what is is the beginnings of a storyline exploring his particular relationship to vulnerability and power and why those things are a part of him in the way they are. this from the perspective of someone who is aroace (and possibly repulsed) instantly adds a potential sympathetic nuance to who he's become, similar to the layer of power fantasy mentioned above. both of these turn his narrative from a cautionary tale or a villain-played-straight (haha) trope into something much more interesting

with the semiotics of aroaceness already in place, these affect how we read the foundations for the rest of his narrative and where it's going. quite simply, it's one of the biggest factors right now that make all his other story beats more resonant and interesting, depending of course on where they take it...

9. his smile. since we've gotten deep enough into meta territory now that we're in hc/future theorising country -- the smile is of course a mask, that's known to everyone. there's a lot of future opportunities for how to utilise that alongside aroaceness-as-theme-for-him. aroaceness, or just "someone where there is a noticeable lack of romantic (and hinted at sexual) interest," is usually coded through a certain shallowness. a pathologisation of behaviours -- which is another deeper analysis post to make at some point (jeez there's so many). Alastor is off-putting, yes, but he's also very confident and charming when he wants to be, he can put people at ease despite themselves (see, Charlie). It's a very interesting mask to give someone who's aroace, because it makes him complicated, rather than a simple ableist "point at the weirdo with no friends, that's our Outsider/killer."

(it also hearkens back to the humanising factor, in that his shallowness isn't because he's aroace, it's because he doesn't know how to be vulnerable with people as the person he is in a world that is incredibly amatonormative and focused on sex)

His smile can be unnerving, but it can also be disarming, give others the illusion that he's in control, make it impossible to guess his emotions (etc. basically what he said to Charlie)

so quite simply, his smile as a twisted distortion of society's demands upon people. he's not being abrupt, aloof, asocial, unkempt, or all the things aroaceness is often stereotyped as. he's performing the most acceptable normative person you can imagine. his surface is unscratcheable because of normative ideals

it's a very fun, unique-to-this-story way of potentially telling an aroace narrative. I'd be interested in what it takes to make him drop it (if he can, or if the story takes the route of accepting that he can't -- the man who laughs kinda vibes) and whether that will tie into a piece of his story that itself takes on aroace proportions (perhaps related to worrying for others in a non-romantic way, perhaps in relation to being able to or being forced to be vulnerable in a non-romantic/non-sexual way, etcetc).

Potentials:

we haven't seen him around the aro/ace aroace colours yet as far as I can remember, which is a fun, easy way to signpost (see, Vox flashing the bisexual flag on his screen)

since we've had an "ace in the hole" joke, I think we could have an aro/arrow-based pun in there as well, maybe even as a deconstruction of when they're used in romantic ways -- (no aro going through his heart, too aro for cupid's arrow, idk I'm spitballing here) or as literal arrows in some way. also someone's gotta call him aces at one point, right? just cos? I feel like the "<2" emoji might be too niche (heck, maybe all of this is, but that's part of the point -- all of this should be ways we're able to signpost aro and ace and aroace characters), but there's characters who know modern emoji and online lingo

other asexual symbols I know of include stating a preference for cake or pizza over sex and/or dating and the black and white rings (worn respectively on right an left middle fingers, although since they only have four fingers in this world...)

I've really enjoyed "clueless cannibal about modern lingo" Alastor comics, including the one about serving cunt and the one about eating ass both by @nouverx. it goes nicely on from his being confused about "ace in the hole," with that HH style sexual comedy. there's a whole bunch of that one could play with

speaking of slang, confirmed bachelor has often meant gay, but the aro/ace community and the gay community has overlapped as long as anyone has been non-conforming. @creepysora suggested a gentleman never kisses and tells, either as Alastor being unaware that it's actually about sex, or as an aware deconstruction of the phrase that gives him the space (similar to confirmed bachelor) to sneakily go, "go mind your own fucking business 😊!" I'm sure there are others that could fulfill a similar purpose of allowing Alastor a certain kind of old-timey buffer

similar to the episode of Bojack Horseman that had Todd visit his girlfriend's parents (both Todd and his GF are asexual and not out to her parents), which depicted allosexuality from the perspective of asexuality as something nonsensical and Other, perhaps having something from Alastor's POV in which he's the observer of the rites of romance and/or sex in a way that shows their strangeness when one sits outside of their tenets

would kind of like to see him killing/hurting people for being pushy, either when alive or dead. I already see a lot of potentials for his past as a serial killer to be framed from an aroace POV, but I especially like this idea, similar to how Hannibal often targets people for being "rude."

more on what I was saying about aroaceness as a humanising trait -- more on how this affected him in life, how he feels about Vox's consistent obsessive behaviour, how it potentially makes it harder to imagine his place in a group setting like the hotel (which is rapidly being paired off into romantic couples -- often a nightmare scenario for aromantics), more on how potentially learning these words or something better to describe himself can make it possible for him to assert boundaries without shutting everyone out to a large extent, and also, tbh, to put Big Expectations onto a story that's barely even started, I hope that none of this takes away his less savoury traits necessarily. I hope he's still kind of an asshole, but simply that he is grounded in himself enough to be able to really believe in Charlie's work/aims and support her in them for more reasons than his own ends, and can admit to really caring for something

reiterating: I am interested in how his smile-as-mask will play into all of this

Any symbolism, metaphor, coding, and straight-up telling I've missed in the show itself? Any you'd want to see in upcoming seasons?

[koolkat9]

Sick and Tired

Rating: T

Relationship: Germania + German Bros

Word Count: 775

Read on AO3

Author's Note: This was supposed to be fore German Bros week, but it turned more into a Gil and Germania fic than a Gil and Lud fic. So it will be it's own separate thing. But still...I wanted to release it on the same day. Based on a teen dad prussia au I have.

It had been a long day and a long night. Poor Ludwig had come down with his first cold, and given it was the weekend, it was Gilbert’s turn to take care of him. Gilbert had finally gotten him to sleep and was sitting down to start on his studying when a raspy cry rattled down the hall.

“Shit,” Gilbert muttered under his breath.

He tried to focus on his textbook and the notebook in front of him. He read the sentence over and over, the meaning of the words getting drowned out by the cries.

“In 1741, Frederick the Great…” he read aloud, hoping that would get him to focus. “Fredrick the Great achieved…Agh.”

He pressed his hands against his ears, screwing his eyes shut.

When the crying continued, Gilbert finally shot up and strode down the hallway. He threw open the door, it slammed against the nearby wall. For a moment, Ludwig stopped crying. Until he started right up again after getting over his shock. Gilbert groaned.

He picked up the baby and began rocking him. Bouncing him back and forth, frustrated.

“Shhhhh,” Gilbert hushed, “You’re fine. It’s fine. You’ll feel better if you sleep, you know?”

Rock and plead, rock and plead. It went on for an hour. But with his tired brain and Ludwig’s constant screaming, time was lost on Gilbert.

“Just please be quiet,” Gilbert begged, vision blurring with tears. “Please��� please… please.”

Gilbert swayed slightly. He couldn’t tell if he was dizzy from being overwhelmed or tired or maybe he hadn’t drunk enough water today. He pulled himself over to the rocking chair and began rocking Ludwig once more.

But no matter what, Ludwig wouldn’t stop crying, face beet red.

Gilbert sniffed, pulling Ludwig closer and just breaking down into sobs.

“What’s going on–” A voice started to ask, only to cut himself off. A shadow shuffled amongst the darkened room.

“Papa…” Gilbert blubbered, finding his father kneeling in front of him.

“Someone still not feeling too good?” Adalbert asked, rubbing Ludwig’s head.

Gilbert shook his head no, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Hush now.”

Adalbert’s hand came to rest on Ludwig’s forehead. “Fever.”

He nodded to himself, rising to his feet, and headed to Ludwig’s closet. He pulled out a thinner set of PJs.

“Give him to me,” Adalbert instructed.

Gilbert handed Ludwig over tiredly. He collapsed back into the rocking chair. He couldn’t watch as his father dressed Ludwig in the lighter closed. He buried his head in his hands, tears soaking his palms. Why couldn’t he stop?

He hadn’t even noticed that Adalbert had taken Ludwig out of the room. When Gilbert finally looked up, he scoured the room frantically.

Luckily Adalbert returned a few minutes into Gilbert’s search.

“Don’t worry, I just was giving him a little lukewarm bath,” Adalbert explained, “Did wonders for you when you were a baby.”

And it seemed Ludwig took after Gilbert in that way. He was already dozing off in Adalbert’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” Gilbert mumbled wetly.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You did your best. Especially considering you’re under stress about that test. Speaking of…” He placed Ludwig back in the crib. “You should have come to me. I could have taken care of him today.”

“But he’s my responsibility, I–”

“Gilbert.” Adalbert’s voice was stern and his eyes cool. Gilbert winced. “When we decided to go through with this, you promised your studies would come first and I’d support you and Ludwig to make that happen.”

“But we also said the weekend would be my time to take care of him.”

Adalbert sighed. “Yes. But the importance of your studies trumps that. So right now, I want you to go to bed and sleep. I’ll take care of Ludwig tomorrow until you finish studying.”

Gilbert wanted to argue, feeling like a failure and that his father was angry at him. But he knew it was fruitless. He joined Adalbert beside the crib, wanting to at least check Ludwig one more time.

He looked so peaceful now. Still a little sick, but at least he wasn’t sobbing. Tears burned behind Gilbert’s eyes.

“I think he likes you better,” Gilbert choked.

Adalbert put a hand on his shoulder. “I think he likes you just as much.”

Ludwig cooed at them, little hands reaching out, not to Adalbert but to Gilbert. Gilbert quirked a brow. Cautiously, Gilbert reached out, letting Ludwig grasp his finger. After a few minutes, Ludwig closed his eyes and was fast asleep.

When Gilbert turned back to his father, Adalbert had a small smile on his face. “What did I tell you?”

Gilbert returned the smile. 

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Idk if you know Monster prom, but I was thinking about that game earlier, and I was wondering what your opinion would be on different YV boys playing that game (like who they would romance and etc)

I know monster prom! Always wanted to play it, sadly don't got funds to do so </3 Okay don't fully remember the story line but did pull up the wiki. Just gonna do what character they'd okay and who they'd romance, maybe their opinions on some characters.

Alphonse

For playable characters I feel like it's gonna be Oz bc he looks really cool! I can see him possibly romancing Scott (Loves a himbo), Damien (Everyone loves a bad boy Boo!), Polly (She looks nice!), and maybe Zoe (idk she a freak I fuck w that)

But I feel like he'd probably stick to like the same few romances but doing different decisions to see what happens. Is laughing at all the crazy shit he gets pulled into bc of these romancing characters he choose.

Seth

I can see him picking Brian as his playable character. He's a bit heartbroken he couldn't be a cryptic, but also wanted to try and be kinda true to him? I can see him romancing everyone at least once. Doesn't really have a preference.

I think he'd love the concept of the game since its really well thought out! He loves the multiple endings you can get and might try and get a few before deciding he's done.

Charlie

Mf saw Ox and was like lol that's me. I can see him liking Damien (He's hot, like literally), Scott (honestly crush me w those arms), and Vera (okay yes I loved to be dommed stop laughing Cas!)

Likes how the art style is, I feel like he tries and friends Liam. Reminds him of someone he knows, also likes Polly she's really cool. Some scene's of the game made him go wide eyed like woah okay so that happened-

Finn

Chooses to play Oz, he likes how the guy has lil shadow creatures around him! For trying to romance I can see Damien (Okay yes, Sunflower it's cliche but yeah..), Scott (he seems really nice!) and maybe Calculester (is it weird bc he's a robot?..Computer?)

Gasps and wide eyed at how some of the people act. Like how Miranda who seems so nice is from a tyrant family?? Along with how she treats the people who follower her around basically doing everything fore her??

Faust

Has placed as every playable character for fun and romanced every single romancible character. Except Liam, reminds him too much of Auron and is just....no....

I feel like he really likes Vera how headstrong she is a headstrong woman. Also kinda likes Zoe bc she kinds reminds him of himself.

Auron

Looks at the playable characters and picks Brian. Thinks he looked similar enough to him. Doesn't really care for these types of games so he just goes where ever his choices takes him.

I can see him romancing Vera (She knows what she wants and I respect that), Polly (She seems nice I wonder why she parties so much?) and Calculester (I kind of like him). I can see him after a while of just having the game play the other routes just once. I can see him kinda liking Liam

Lucien

Plays as Amira bc he loves how cool she looks! Laughs when he sees Damien then tries to romance him (Angel! Look there's a demon in here!), Polly (oh she's crazy I love her), Scott (Okay beefcake I see you), Zoe (Holy shit she's like me fr!) and Vera (She's hot.)

I can honestly not flinch at anything the characters do, just enjoying vibes while playing this. Also he def played all the routes he could when getting the game.

Jack

I can see him playing Vicky, I feel like personalities match up kinda! Honestly he doesn't care who he's gonna rizz up and goes for the first perosn he sees.

Thinks the plotline and story for the game is funny, likes the many endings you can get! Plays all the routes he can bc he wants to know everything.

[artbyfinnbrown]

Screenshots of my favourite moments from Re:Zero Arc 7 (Part 2):

This raises questions. Actually just one: Why does Al’s authority not work as a child, and Subaru’s does?

Stargazers were much more horrific than I originally imagined. When they’re first described its phrased as “The Stars give them knowledge about the future”. When in reality its “The Stars highjack their brains and rewrite their reason for existing, forcing them to devote your existence to a singular goal at the expense of everything else”. They’re basically cosmic horror antagonists.

Between “The world hasn’t been destroyed” and “Only Natsuki Subaru can do that”, I think it’s safe to conclude that Al has at least some idea of Subaru’s ability. But that just raises more questions WHY DOES HE KNOW???

That’s an interesting thing to say, Al. Why would you say something like that?

SHE CREATED A HEINKEL-SHAPED IMPRINT IN THE WALL LIKE A FRIGGIN CARTOON CHARACTER THAT’S SO FUNNY

Every time before this when Subaru thinks back to people important to him, he thinks about the Emilia camp. Then when he becomes Natchuki Subawu, he’s only able to think about the people he’s met since he entered Vollachia. It’s a small detail, but it still manages to be unsettling. He’s still thinking about people who are important to him, but it shows how Child Subaru’s brain is adjusting what Subaru considers to be important.

It really says something about the Gladiator Island loops that Subaru having to go back further in time is framed as a triumphant moment.

AAAA she worries for him she cares about him she wants to be there for him AAAAAA

Damn, Abel really said “I have no friends” like it was a positive thing.

Rather than try to add my own commentary on this hilarious exchange, I will instead make use of the words of tumblr user Sufferu:

She really just out and stated that that Vincent’s probably gay. What an icon. Also as a bonus, she acknowledges that the fact Vincent’s probably gay has no bearing on whether of not he wants kids. Serena is like the #1 ally in all of Re:Zero. Also “I didn’t ask if you were serious, I asked if you where sane” is a hilarious line.

Alright, let’s do this

(Deep breath)

Fellas, is it gay to help a man get his cart unstuck, have that man ask you if you would die for him, have that man hire you when you said you wouldn’t, help that man become the next ruler of the country, become his right hand man, closest confidant and body double, discover that the man has had is death is prophesied as the first event that will lead to the destruction of the country, (and has planned for this, arranging things to ensure the country has the best chance of surviving after his death), and then decide to usurp that man’s position on the throne in order to take over his identity so you can die in his place in order to deny fate?

Wow, fore shadows. I wonder if this could mean anything’s for future arcs of Re:Zero. Nah, I’m probably just imagining things.

Man imagine only being able to kill Al 6 times. Those are weak numbers. You need to step up your game Todd.

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: a double-page spread from Trigun. In the fore-right, cast in shadow, Vash the Stampede has his back to the reader, so only his startled eyes can be seen. To the left, Legato Bluesummers is walking past Vash, facing the reader, so close that their left arms appear to be brushing past. Legato's face is mostly shadowed by his hair, so all that can be seen of his expression is his frowning mouth. Both men are almost comically broad-shouldered but that might just bea wonky result of the double-page spread. A juddering sound effect is splashed across the pair to represent the tonal whiplash from the previous cheerful page. End ID.]

The framing of Legato's introduction, with him sending chills through Vash just by walking by him, kinda has me wondering if, at the time this was drawn, the plan was for Legato to have Vash's left arm. This is Trigun, before the original magazine got cancelled and Nightow started using the anime to tell the story he wouldn't get to draw now, before the manga was picked up again as Trigun Maximum. Legato having Vash's left arm grafted onto him is 98-only; in the manga, he's had his powers since childhood, with an implication that he might have been experimented on by the slavers who owned him, but it's never made clear. I always find it interesting to tweak at threads in episodic storytelling that show you how the writer's headspace/plans changed as the story started to come to life under them, and I am really curious if Legato's powers coming from misuse of Vash's severed arm was something entirely created for the 98 anime, or if it was the original plan and Nightow dropped it when he got to do Maximum and developed new ideas for how to tell the story--or maybe he always had a few options in mind for Legato's backstory and figured that, since he got to tell one in the anime already, he wanted to try a different one in Maximum (one that he could only really have told in a seinen magazine, because jesus fucking christ it's dark). IDK I love storytelling in all its forms and poking at creative minds, if Nightow's talked about this anywhere I'd DESPERATELY like to know

(Also just the biggest props to @trigun-manga-overhaul for producing such a beautiful, clean edition of the manga; the omnibus volumes I have have always formatted these kinds of double-page spreads in a really wonky way, so in reading this I'm seeing some of the art properly for the very first time and it's glorious <3)

[kanzakurawrites]

Hiya, I'm In love with your descendant's book. I was wondering if you're going to write about mal falling (or pushed who knows, not everyone likes magic users) into the docks and everyone's reaction, and if not could you maybe write a headcanon on it, please? I'd love to see their reactions (especially hadie's)

Aww, I'm glad you like the fic!!

I am going to be including that in one of the upcoming chapters and I hope it won't disappoint!

But this did make me want to do some canon(ish) (we only pick and choose from the books) headcanons.

A few days after the shrimp incident, Mal went to actually apologize to Uma and even brought some shampoo she managed to find. But, she ran into some of her mother's henchmen on the way and had to make up an excuse. She then decided it wasn't worth it and thought that the argument would blow over, though it didn't.

Uma had had the same thought but the longer Mal wasn't around, the more her anger grew.

Jay and Harry, who had also been apart of this little group, still would cause chaos together, but they stopped after the girls turned 13. That's when they made them choose.

Hade couldn't be seen with Mal, in fear of Maleficent's reaction, but he managed to get her attention and is the one who showed her the way to the hideout. Because of that he was able to check on her more and tried getting her to establish a truce with Uma at the least, but Mal refused.

Mal had nightmares about drowning for years. They stopped around the time the Core Fore went to Auradon, but restarted after the Lake incident.

Even if she won't admit it, deep down Uma does regret laughing but the fact that Mal didn't know how to swim never crossed her mind given that a lot of the pirate children do.

Hades almost went to see Mal but decided against it and instead kept an eye out from the shadows. He did, though, see Ursula and threatened that if anything ever happened to his daughter (yes, Ursula knows) in her territory, then he will make sure everything she's built on the Isle is destroyed. This is one reason Uma works in her mother's shop so often, as between that and defending her crew from other gangs it doesn't leave her much time to fight with Mal.

[eldritchpluto]

GO LISTEN TO LIZARD BOY!! RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

IM SO MAD MORE PEOPLE DON’T KNOW ABOUT THIS SHOW! So, your local giant nerd who has hyperfixed on this show for four goddamn years is gonna explain it, and hopefully convince at least one person to give it a try. I’m gonna put this under a read more for the sake of people’s dashes, but if you like any musicals, PLEASE STICK WITH ME HERE!

Lizard Boy is a musical written by Justin Huertas, and he plays the lead Trevor. The two other primary actors are Kiki DeLohr as Siren, and William A. Williams as Cary. That’s it! It’s only a three person cast, wild I know. This cast is used VERY well, and in incredibly interesting ways.

What’s our main premise? Trevor, our titular lizard boy, (yes I know the name is silly, STICK WITH ME I PROMISE), is living alone. He’s been in his apartment all year, never leaving. Why? After an accident in his youth where he was sprayed with dragon blood after a wild encounter, he’s been covered in scales. He spent much of his following time dealing with social craziness because of it, and he’s sick of being an outcast. So, he stays alone. He only goes out once a year during the city’s “Monster Fest”, since others are dressed up like monsters, and no one looks at him. So, on this year’s fest, he goes out. On a kind of date with a dorky dude named Cary. But, as he’s trying out this weird first date, he comes across Siren. A mysterious woman, whose haunting voice he’s heard in his cryptic dreams. As he tries to figure out this relationship, and who this woman is, chaos ensues.

As much as I love the plot of this show, the music is the real draw! It’s absolutely incredible, and showcases how just three people together can create some incredibly powerful stuff!

Other pros! It’s very gay (and if you ask me, very trans) and meant a lot to me the past four years as I’ve figured out my own stuff. Next, it is VERY creative in every possible way! Next, it’s campy and nerdy and weird as fuck, and is so proud to be all of that. It brings me joy to see something so goddamn weird. Also, all three people involved are very very talented and wonderful!

If you like these other shows, it might be fore you! It has the weird campiness and sincerity of Ride the Cyclone, razias’s shadow, and Be More Chill! Everyone plays their own instruments and does cool vocal stuff with a small cast like Ghost Quartet! It’s about identity in very cool ways like Fun Home!

So, if you want to listen to this show (which you shoulddddddddd) here are some places to start! (Also there will be a new recording coming out soon thats live and will be SO good I was there for one of the recordings for it >:3)

A Terrible Ride- this song was my introduction. It slaps SO fucking hard oh my god. Siren’s voice <3

Take me to bed- Probably my favorite? It’s hard to pick. But big emotion, overlapping parts, amazing instrumentation! The whole deal

Myth to live by- Another favorite! Killer harmonies and just a vibe honestly.

I was going to call you- THIS SONG BREAKS MY HEART BUT ITS AMAZING AHHHHH

ANYWAYS! ITS AMAZING! Listen to it here: https://open.spotify.com/album/6Db8WJESTAwTXdF43fQLKs?si=wejkyPHDT8C0m8ww-ryzFA and read the synopsis and see more info here http://www.lizardmusical.com

If you have any questions or want more info, send me an ask! I know way too much, and I finally saw the show in person! (Also got to talk to all three actors, which is maybe the coolest thing I’ve ever done!) So yeah!!

[glasscoppelia]

“Scarcely does the sun rise ‘fore the night descends again // No one hears the lamentations of the sons of men”

My newest original song, Belmont, has been performed for the first time as of last week! Although I’ve got footage, I’m not all that happy with how distracted and unfocused I look while singing.

So, I decided to try my hand at a larger scale pixel art piece, a self portrait using the SNES color palette and using the Castlevania TV series’ version of Sypha as a reference…too heavily in the first WIP, where I didn’t realize the shadows on her neck are because of her gravity defying cloak, haha. That changed once I added shoulders, and eventually I found other references to use in order to re-shade.

Full disclosure, I’ve been using Sypha as a redlined overlay and checking that the lines match up well enough. There are some lines I’m going to redo now that I’m more confident I can match the style, to further separate my piece from the original work!!

I’m really, really proud of the hair. Cross-referencing Alucard and Carmilla did wonders, since Sypha’s got a much different look than I do. Adding in my widow’s peak was surprisingly difficult, but I’m learning that the circle tool works wonders if you don’t have a curved line tool to use. Lots of layers, but worth it!

Next steps are to fix the imbalance at the bottom of the bust and add clothing. I may also change the brows to be more serious, but I reeeeally don’t want to have to change shading and outlines AGAIN after redoing the neck/adding shoulders/figuring out how to make the collarbones look passable. Another possibility is making both sets of lashes larger, to reflect the makeup I wore during the performance (as well as make them more distinct).

For now, though, I’ve got something that’s coming along really nicely, and I’m happy about it. Will this be album art? Nah, probably not. I’d rather do a piece that’s more oil paint-y than pixelated for that. But I think it’ll be a good enough cover for the first live taping *^ ^*

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Summary:

Set after the events of Castlevania (Netflix) Season III. After the betrayal of his young apprentices, Alucard feels barely alive in his lonesome castle. Days wear on, chipping away at his mind and sanity. And what is the son of Dracula to do with this unwanted visitor, suddenly come at his doorstep?

Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses - Ovid

PART I

Also on AO3

XXIV. Beginnings

Cold. A breezy flutter of draperies and sunlight. Ravenna clutched sleepily at the covers, her hand reaching of its own accord across the cool sheets to feel—

The space beside her was empty. Her eyes opened, and in a messy tangle of black hair Ravenna rose, propped on her arms. The air in the room was chilly with the open window after the nightly rains, but still laced with the spice of wild pine and fresh dew and summer. And there was another scent, lingering on the sheets, in her hair, on her skin. Her lips curved upward. Looking about herself, Ravenna was briefly disappointed that she’d not awoken to gleaming eyes of gold and a sharp smile to kiss.

She reclined back on the bed, drawing the sheets over her bare form. Memories of the night came to the fore, each more vivid and wonderfully teasing than the last. Ravenna recalled his hands on her, her hands on him, the details of him burned into her spirit and etched onto her body. Her restraint, fallen to pieces the deeper she kissed him, the desperation of longing leading down an unending spiral of feeling, tumult and possession. She recalled the scars, his plea to forget; his attempt to bury himself into her as though she were his talisman and his need of her, manifest into burning lips on her body, showing her the heights one could fall from.

And then his tickling whisper against her ear before rest took her, and the things he had said.

Ravenna turned on her side. After their turbulent night together, she hurt in a way that riled her, and only made her desire more of it. She still felt his taste in her mouth. Sleepily, Ravenna rose to sit in bed again, clutching the blanket at her chest, wondering where Adrian had gone. Her mind awake, new thoughts sifted through the fabric of her conscious. It was as though all her struggles and learning and years spent in service of another purpose had somehow brought her here. And though Ravenna knew her goal could not be abandoned, the notion of leaving was rolling thunder and shadow on a bright day. They would need to speak of it, but what would she say? That she loved him, she enjoyed having him and was happy he appeared to fare better, but eventually she’d need to depart? To leave him? What of her promise to never allow any harm to come to him again?

Ravenna paused.

She loved him? A concept unfamiliar to her, but for swirls of forgotten languages on veal pages during candlelit nights. Odes, odysseys, and hymns, all dedicated to its myriad of forms and outcomes. All praising its delights and despairing over its iniquities.

Was this it? Was it that which the ancients favored and relished to explore, which now monotheistic creed diminished and condemned in its earthly form?

Ravenna rose to her feet, wobbling slightly, one hand propped against the wooden bedpost. The past night had been more demanding than she thought. She considered this with half a smile: his strength, though controlled and reined, still slipped in certain moments and a light bruise or two had made an appearance on her hip, her rear. Not that she’d been gentler.

Ravenna reached for her nightgown, then crossed the empty chamber on bare feet, searching for her discarded slippers, then donned her robe. She left and carried through the corridors, listening for any sign of where Adrian might be. Torn between the green meadows of her growing affection and the stalwart chains of duty, she wavered back and forth, both dreading and needing to see him, to hold him. To tell him.

He was not in the kitchen, though she noticed the table was laden with bowls of forest fruit and nuts. There were pitchers of cold water there as well. She helped herself to some of the fare before resuming her search. Ravenna stepped through the main reception hall, and after a few more failed attempts, she had one last place to search. An unlikely option, but beyond it lay worry. And so she went.

As Ravenna neared what she knew to be the engine room of the castle, she heard sharp sounds of metal ringing against metal, and the rumbling roar of heavy objects falling and shattering. She lengthened her stride until she reached the entrance.

Adrian stood with his back to her, tall and corded and straight, his shirt rolled to his elbows. He was currently displacing a large melted copper sprocket from its original position.

Wide eyed, Ravenna cringed when a deafening roll echoed through the room as he threw the immense object over a pile of similar discarded items. As he did so Adrian lifted his gaze to see a waiting Ravenna, her arms crossed and eyes questioning.

The brightness of his eyes gave her pause. He was the same, and yet he was not. The frown and scowl from the early days of their meeting were gone. He did not smile, but the unseen burden, that invisible chain ever coiling around him did not seem to weigh as heavily on his step.

Adrian appeared none too affected by the inhuman effort he’d made, and as their eyes kept focused on each other, Ravenna felt the now familiar stirrings inside that only he could awaken.

Adrian stepped closer and stopped before her, glanced her over. Ravenna regarded him, unmoving. She smothered the needling thought of how things stood between them now, even as he reached for her, the back of his hand gently grazing her cheek.

“You disappeared,” she said, following his shadowing gaze as it rested on the still present bruises gifted in the struggle from the forest.

“You slept so soundly and deeply, I did not wish to wake you,” and he smiled then as he spoke, a brittle thing.

Weakness spread through her limbs laced with wantonness, as though he’d flung sharp spears between her ribs and none but he had the power to retrieve them, either leaving her whole or tearing her apart.

Ravenna fell against him, wishing there was no quest, no aim, no Styria. For one split of time she selfishly desired her task had never been entrusted to her, all the while blessing that it was. When his arms wrapped around her, Ravenna sighed at the renewed sense of ease. Her own trembling arms came around his neck and she inhaled him, the tip of her nose pressing into the hollow of his neck. “What are you trying to achieve here?” she asked, nuzzling his skin.

His chin rested on the crown of her head. “Remember the task of dislodging the melted metals from there?”

“Yes,” she said, dejected, near to tears when Adrian hugged her even closer against him. She sighed, the damnable rousing stirring in her body again. He was so warm, and she relived how he burned, how he moved and how he touched; she knew him now, all of him.

“May I look into your eyes?”

His ask was soft, and she slowly raised her head.

His gaze was steady and determined but imbued with the same light from the woods, from last night. “You still have research to pursue in the Hold, from what I recall?”

“Yes,” Ravenna said, distracted by the sunlight straying over his pale features, setting his long hair a brighter, flaring gold.

“We’ll restore the engine room,” he leaned closer to her face, and Ravenna felt warmth on her lips. She shivered, her hand grasping his nape, demanding more; she’d never tire of this.

Adrian broke away, pressed his face to hers. “Once you are done, and I am finished, we will transport this castle to Styria, so that you may complete your task. It may take more time, of course; time reclaimed with the speed of travel owed to the mechanism.” He looked back at her. “This place...” he paused, sighing. “My home has been a mark of dread, a symbol of terror for far too long. I... I think I could put it to much, much better use.”

“How... do you mean?” Her mind reeled with his suggestion, but—it made sense.

His fingers grazed her cheek. “It could be a shelter. We could… bring people back here. Together with the Hold, its libraries are a wealth of information that entire generations could benefit from. What say you?”

Ravenna searched his expression. “Adrian, that sounds... too good to be true.”

Alucard nodded. “I am... let’s say your purpose has made me reconsider much about my life: the past, the present,” he brought his forehead to hers, “the future.”

It dawned on her—the tightness of his grip, his face when Adrian had glimpsed her. He’d been reeling? Perhaps he thought she might refuse? It seemed trust and fear mingled as he struggled to change and reclaim his faith in both himself and others. She wanted to hold him, wanted to soothe his soul with all that she was. “You want me to stay.”

His lips parted, and his eyes softened on her. “For as long as you desire. But I’d need your aid for my suggestion to be possible.” He waved a hand towards the dismantled engine room. Infused metals required knowledge of alchemy he did not wholly master. “What say you, Ravenna?” he asked again, and the look on his face spoke of so many things, all of which were clashing and crumbling within her.

The air in the room seemed charged. Ravenna felt as light as a leaf flowing on a mild wind. Then her gaze was drawn by his lower lip, and she tilted her head to nip on it, smiling when he sighed against her mouth. “Yes,” she said, but it came cracked and faint. So close, so near. And then sense was no more, the engine room was no more, and all Ravenna knew was him.

“Yes?” he asked, breath labored, his lips still on hers.

Ravenna nodded, reveling in his fervent embrace, yelping when Adrian lifted her off her feet and spun them around.

“... you ought to eat something, though, because tonight…” she trailed off, giggling when being met with a quirked eyebrow and a grin revealing one fang—her undoing. “Don’t look at me that way. You may be half-vampire—put me down, Adrian!“

His soft laughter was like music.

“I want to go bathe, put me—”

“Go,” Alucard paused, setting her on her feet. He held her hands, placing a chivalrous kiss on each in turn. His eyes were mischief. “I’ll follow in a few moments.”

Assured but throwing him a mock scolding look nonetheless, Ravenna turned from him. “I wouldn’t want to have to return for you,” she warned.

Adrian was tucking his shirt properly in his trousers, his grin turned roguish. “Are you certain?”

With a good humored huff, Ravenna left him, her smile as wide as the horizon. She followed the path through the castle, soon reaching the balustrade and winding stairs in the reception hall. Her step was light, her worries and gloom set to rest. He was yet learning to fight against his fears, that of loss chief among them, and she’d do her utmost to aid him.

As Ravenna walked to reach a lobby leading to the bath chamber, she heard noise: sudden, not completely foreign.

Knocking?

She stopped in her tracks. After a brief pause, the knocking resumed, this time louder.

Warily, Ravenna fastened her robe and approached, following the wide corridor towards the gates.

Another knock. She considered waiting for Adrian, but thought she heard a feminine voice on the other end. Intrigued, Ravenna listened again, but there was only knocking. She reached for the handle and slowly and painstakingly cracked one gate open, careful to stand to the side.

Her eyes met steely grey ones. A black head of messy hair, an angry scar, a sharp jaw lined with stubble. A young man. He was standing before the gates, his garb worn with travel. Then those foreign eyes widened, regarding her untamed hair, moving to her robe as it slid off one naked shoulder.

“Uh... is—... we seek Alucard. Is he here?” He had a voice too, it seemed.

This must have been a mistake. She frowned. “... Who?” But why would anyone come here, of all places, seeking someone they thought they knew?

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Alucard. You know, tall, blond, very annoying, the son of Dracula and all that? Where is he?” His tone had become demanding, circumspect.

“Ravenna, what is it?” she heard Adrian’s voice.

The stranger appeared startled.

She turned her head to Adrian, who’d come to stand close behind her, unable to say anything except—

“... Alucard?” she mouthed in confusion.

He looked stricken, and his gaze shot towards the person standing outside. Ravenna had never seen him so... so... astonished? Angry? Happy?

She turned back to the man before them, whose face had changed from confused to knowing. It was a face demanding blows. A grin was plastered on it. “Well, this, I did not expect,” he said, crossing his arms.

She heard one, single word, a mesh of relief, surprise and utter exasperation.

“Belmont.”

“Alucard.”

They knew each other? Ravenna stepped back, felt his hand resting on her shoulder. The gates instantly opened wider, revealing another approaching figure. A woman, donned in blue robes, with hair of fire.

The stranger cleared his throat, the grin still present. “Well, won’t you invite us in?”

END

[call-sign-shark]

Brummie, I've been waiting for this for so long!! I am hopping up and down!! So here is my comment for the grand final of Killing Me Softly.

First of all the many descriptions of Y/N movements smooth and pleasant to read, so smooth it was very easy to imagine her. I also particularly appreciate the details you've put in this last chapter and how you scattered proof to explain Tommy's accident. The whole enquiry with the silencer, the untouched meds etc was incredibly well built and it made us realize Tommy's plans along with Y/N. Even though I suspected he hurt himself, I could not help but be disgusted and shocked by it. His madness reached a point of no return. It wasn't the fact she shot himself that got me wincing though, but more than he didn't took his meds and clearly put his life in danger to force his wife to be loving with him. That's sick and twisted. As sick and twisted as his constant way of gaslighting her, like "Y/N you can barely fucking spell, yet your reading this" // "Did you annoy the horse?" // "Your mother is crazy, maybe it's something about genetics". This is an excellent demonstration of your understanding of manipulating and narcissistic behavior.

Obviously he knew for the baby because, as you justly said, Tommy always wins which means Tommy always ends up knowing everything. Details such as him touching her stomach and looking down at her belly were amazing. Along with him being aware she is carrying his baby, I could not help but gasp when at the construction of the heavy and tall fence. Arrow House has never been welcoming to her considering her relationship with Tommy, but now it has been turned into a literal giant cage and I think it's a powerful image which echoes to her life.

Now I must talk about my favorite part of this whole chapter: the scene with Arthur and John. While the two brothers are bragging, laughing and drinking, I love your depiction of Tommy as really quiet and just observing his wife. Also when he keeps her from drinking alcohol I grinned because ... I knew he knew about the baby: that was brilliant. Moreover, I particularly appreciate the moment Arthur tried to teach her a bit more about how to use a gun. This was such an intense scene, with Tommy observing the whole moment and then slipping behind her and whispering in her ear with that threatening tone of him. Also... Arthur, babe, she would have need real lessons. Maybe she wouldn't have missed your psychotic brother.🙄 I was on the edge of my seat during this whole moment 'cause I was pretty sure the knowledge she learned would be useful later and how God I was right! Between the silencer and her attempt to kill Tommy, I came to the conclusion that it was an incredible fore-shadowing you've created here. ( Also just: " We'll soon make a Peaky out of you" Arthur laughed winking to you as he walked off in search of more whisky." AWW HE'S CUTE.)

The last interaction between Y/N and Tommy was chilling. In truth, my mouth was agap and my eyes wide open😂 When he talked about how he managed to declare Y/N's mother clinically insane I was yelling at my laptop. I swear, he did it only to keep her mother out of the picture. All nice and quiet. 'Cause she would have ended up suspecting something if she wasn't sedated. All of this comment leads now to the most wonderful soliloquy of this last chapter: Tommy's declaration of love and madness. His delusion when she misses is so big he thinks she sparred him, and that was a very terrifying way to portray the extent of his madness. But I think the most awful line is

"When this one is born, I'll put another in you then another until that whole house is filled" He smiled unnervingly as his eyes darted back to Arrow House in the distant. " You and me yeh, our own little family"

Wow just wow. I can only applause at the apotheosis of horror you're gifting us. This, combined with the very depressive conclusions, is a prophecy. Not just a crazy wish. That's what going to happen and there's nothing we can do about it. Being used as a laying hen and a sextoy for a crazy man child, that's a fate worst than death.

As a conclusion, we can say that this was an incredible and breathtaking ending, Brummie. Obviously, I was expecting it to be dark but at some point I thought it would end with Y/N murdering Tommy or killing herself or maybe both, why not? Yet, choosing to conclude such a heavy story with zero hope and zero change in her situation was a bold move. Not only you're crushing your audience's hopes for Y/N but, she remains in a status quo. Nothing changed from the beginning to the end because it was always meant to be so. Tommy will hunt her down all her life if she tries to escape: her fate inevitably leads to him.

Thank you for this hellish ride. Killing Me Softly is going to haunt me for years, and it has made its way in my favorite stories of all time. You're an incredible writer, and I'll be forever thankful for Dark! Tommy despite him being a madman, 'cause that's thanks to this story that we've met. 🖤

So here it is everyone, the last part to my Dark!Tommy series "Killing Me Softly". It has been a wild ride with lots of twists and turns, but like all things we've sadly come to the end. I want to thank every single one of you for your comments, reblogs and likes. I have been overwhelmed by the love and support you have all shown this series! I really can't thank you enough. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, if you liked the final chapter, if it finished the way you expected it to or even the way you wanted it to. Thank you to all of you once again, I couldn't have finished it without you!

Brummie xxx

PREVIOUS PART

Killing Me Softly (DARK!TOMMY/ PART TEN)

Summary: After the troubling discoveries you made the previous night in Tommy's office, everything finally comes to an end when you learn of one more sadistic act your husband made in his cruel crusade to make you love him.

Warnings: Language, toxic marriage, psychological abuse, controlling behaviour, manipulative behaviour, psychological mind games, Dark!Tommy ( This is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)

" Phenobarbital, fuck where is it?" you mumbled under your breath as you sat on the sofa, frantically searching through a dictionary you had found in the study the next morning, your head turning to the door every other minute afraid your husband would walk in.

Rubbing your forehead you brought your fingers to the space between your brow, pinching the skin as exhaustion started to take over. You hadn't slept last night and had been throwing up on and off all morning. The strain pulling behind your eyes from searching through countless books for the past hour had started to give you a thumping headache, you were drained, desperate to close your eyes and sleep. Trying to relieve some of the tension throbbing against your head, you massaged one of the sides of your temple as you continued to look through the book resting on your lap. Turning the next page your eyes scanned down the text until finally, you found it " Phenobarbital from the barbiturates family. A white crystalline powder often used by patients suffering from epilepsy. Also used in small amounts to subdue those suffering with anxiety and sleep deprivation in the form of a sedative" Sedative...there it was again. Your mother didn't suffer from epilepsy and neither had sleep or anxiety problems. He was having her sedated, but why? Had she angered him? Had he grown tired of paying for her care? Or was it simply another way to get back at you? Running your hands through your hair, fear and panic started to quickly rise within you, your stomach turning at his unforgivable actions. You was scared for your mother, not only for her ongoing care but now for her life. He had played you again, fooled you one last time. If you was ever going to escape this marriage you would have to play along until you found a way out, if there even was one.

"Y/N, what are you doing in here?" You heard your husband say walking into the room. Quickly shutting the book you pushed it under the cushions beside you as you reached for the newspaper in front of you.

" Just reading" you said looking up at him as he sat down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Reading?" he cocked an eyebrow as he took the paper from you." Daily Mails business column" he said clearing his throat as he read the page." Y/N you can barely fucking spell, yet your reading this" he scoffed throwing it on the coffee table in front of him. Turning your head away you brought your fingers up to your mouth as tears threatened to escape, his childish dig at you striking deeper than you thought it would. Already in a heighten state of emotions you felt that you was on the verge of breaking at any given moment. All you desperately wanted was for someone to comfort you and and take you away from the hellish nightmare you was living. Yet here you was, stuck with a man crueler than the Devil himself, all hope within you being crushed with every word he spoke.

" I've made an appointment for you" he said as he turned to face you lighting a cigarette. " A doctor downtown" he finished leaning into the sofa, his thumb brushing down the back of your neck." You listening to me?"

" Hm?..oh, yes. A doctor. Why would I need a doctor?" you questioned pulling yourself away from your worries, your fingers digging into the soft fabric of the sofa as you looked up into his insistent stare. It took every part of you to hold back the questions burning within you, the revelations you had learnt last night forming a knot in your already uneasy stomach.

" Why would you need a doctor?" He repeated as he lent forward tapping the ash from his cigarette into the glass tray in front of him. " Well darling, i think you might have come down with something. Heard you throwing up most of the morning. Now what could possibly cause that, hm?" he asked, taunting you, waiting for you to crack and tell him what he already believed he knew.

" I'm fine Tommy it must have been the champagne from last night" you dismissed unable to look at him as your eyes fixated on your fingers playing nervously with the hem of your dress.

"We're going Y/N. Tomorrow at noon" he said taking your chin with his thumb, lifting your head to face him.

" We? Tommy..."

" Yes we, you're my wife. I'll be in the room with you, that's not a problem is it? It's not like I haven't seen everything already" He said as his eyes quickly darted down to your stomach then back to you. Shaking your head you brought your hands into your lap, as you mentally tried to figure out how to get out of your now impending appointment.

"Good" he said as he let go of your chin. " I'm going out, I won't be long. Some men will be arriving soon to do some work around the property" he told you as he stubbed his cigarette out.

" What work?" You questioned as you watched him stand up, straightening out his waist coat.

" Fencing for around the house, and a new gate. A big one" he said as a small chuckle left his lips. "You should rest darling, your little late night reading session looks like it's warn you out" he advised as he bent down placing his hand firmly to the back of you neck, pressing his lips to yours as his tongue brushed into your mouth. " Oh sweetheart, you really do get me going" he laughed darkly as he looked down at his trousers, sending you a wink. " Ta-ra!" he said as he strolled out the room with his hands in his pockets, leaving you in a state of worry and confusion at his sly comments and clear change in behaviour. Had you angered him?

For the better part of an hour you had been walking aimlessly around the property, one of Tommy's henchman back surveying you, his eyes never leaving you. Leaning against the cold stone of your home Arrow House you nervously bit your nails as you watched the workmen Tommy had hired to build the fencing around the house stack bricks on the ground. In less than twenty- four hours everything had dramatically changed, Tommy's calm loving temperament along with it. Did he know you had found out what he had been doing, what he had been doing to your mother? Or had he discovered that you was carrying his child? As you watched one of the large metal gates being lifted, one or both of the questions you had been mulling over had to be the answer to his sudden change in demeanor, why else would he be doing this. It was now a race to see which one of you was going to break first, which one of you was going to confront the other.

"Harry!" you shouted as you watched the stable boy walk into the barn in the corner of your eye. Jogging over to him you held your coat around your chest from the cool autumn breeze, Tommy's man watching your every move. "Harry?" you said again as you entered the barn when he quickly turned around taking his flat cap off.

"Mrs Shelby" he replied glancing up quickly only for his eyes to dart back to the hay he was breaking up in front of him.

" How are you?" You questioned, seeing the hestiation in him to even look your way. Walking over you tried to catch his line of sight as he continued busying himself, ignoring your attempts to talk with him. " Harry, is everything ok?"

" Oh yes Mam, very well. Mr Shelby wants me to clean the stables out, lots to do" he said as he picked up a handful of hay placing it in a large tin bucket.

" I can see that" you replied with a chuckle as you looked around the barn. " What's this?" You said as you picked up a strange looking black barell on top of a stack of hay.

" Don't know Mam, found it as I was mucking out. Looks like part of a gun" Harry said as he walked over to Tommy's stallion.

"It does doesn't it" you replied as you furrowed your brow, turning the object around in your hand. "Oh please, let me help" you said putting the unusual find back down without giving it a second thought as you walked over to Harry feeding Tommy's horse.

" Can I ?" You said as you put your hand out for the bucket, which harry handed over with a small smile quickly returning to his other jobs.

" Hello you" you said as you stroked down the stallion's mane. He was a beautiful horse with the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. He had gained quite the reputation among the people working at Arrow House. His temperament was unpredictable, the only person he would let ride him was Tommy. Reaching into the bucket you pulled out a handful of hay, stroking his neck as you fed him.

" Fuck, he bit me!" you said as you pulled your hand away, staring back into the darkness of his eyes as he flared his nostrils at you.

" Mrs Shelby!" Harry said, dropping the broom he had been using to sweep the floor as he hurried over to you.

" It's alright Harry, he didn't draw blood" you said as you looked back at Tommy's horse staring at you, his eyes as dark as coal.

"I'm sorry Mam, he's been acting up all morning. I should've warned you" the young stable boy said as you turned to face him.

"Maybe he misses my mare" you told him, trying to ease the worry in his eyes " But nothing could be done, she was lame the poor thing" you said as you looked over to her empty stall.

"Lame? She wasn't la.." Harry started to say until the voice of your husband interrupted him.

" Darling, there you are" Tommy said entering the barn, as your eyes widened at the words you was sure the stable boy was about to say. " What happened there?" Tommy said approaching you, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he took your injured hand into his.

" Your horse bit me" you said bluntly pulling away from his hold, tears welling in your eyes at the latest exposed truth in Tommy's cruel unstoppable mission to torment you.

" Well did you upset him?" Tommy chuckled as he stroked down his horse, whispering words into his ear.

" Fuck off Tommy..." you said pushing past him, cradling your hand as you glanced one last time at the black barell still sitting on the side, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by your husband.

"What did you just say, eh?!" Tommy shouted as he stormed out the barn grabbing the object Harry had found, placing it in his coat pocket. " Hey! What the fucks a matter with you?" Tommy said as he caught up to you, taking you by your wrist.

" You killed my horse!" you said turning around, pushing him away from you.

" Fucking hell" Tommy muttered under his breath. " Darling, we've already gone through this. Yes, I shot her, she was lame"

" She wasn't though, was she Tommy? Is that what you do? Drug and kill when something becomes an inconvenience to you?" you shouted letting the information you had learnt slip out as Tommy tilted his head in response. You had read more than his black book, he quickly thought to himself. "You're a bastard " You said bringing your hand up to slap him, when he grabbed you by your arm.

" I wouldn't do that if I was you darling. You're In no place to judge me. Not with the news I received last night. You want to tell me about it or shall I just wait until I get confirmation tomorrow hm?"

" Don't know what you're talking about Tommy, didn't see it written down in that secret little book of yours. You're slipping!" you shouted back, refusing to answer his question, your own anger at his twisted behaviour boiling over.

" Tut tut tut, well haven't you been busy. Have you been going through my things sweetheart? Tommy said pulling you into him, his eyes piercing down at you.

"Tommy lad!" Arthur shouted out the car window, honking the horn as he and John pulled up beside you. Letting go of you Tommy stepped back, turning to face his brothers.

" I need whisky, and a lot of it after the bellowing I just go from Esme" John said as he got out the car walking over to you both.

" That makes two of us. Must be a full moon tonight brother" Tommy replied with a laugh as he looked back at you with a smirk whilst him and John walked into the house.

" Y/N love, come on" Arthur said putting his arm around your shoulder as you reluctantly followed them in. The last thing you wanted to do was endure a night of watching the three of them all drink themselves into oblivion, but once again it looked like you had no choice in the matter.

For the past two hours you had been sitting on the sofa begrudgingly listening to John and Arthur talk about all the various women they had been with and men they had killed, tallying them up to see which one of them had the most, the whisky clearly doing the talking for them when the conversation turned even more graphic in every sense. But Tommy...he was quiet, he had barely uttered a word the entire time. Instead he had been watching you, staring at you relentlessly as he sipped on his whisky. One sharp look to him had him scoffing at you as he shook his head, downing the rest of his liquor whilst he walked over to you. Just as you reached for a glass of whisky yourself Tommy grabbed it from your hand, throwing the alcohol into the fire next to him.

" I don't think so Y/N" he said looking down at you as your face reddened in embarrassment.

" Here, I'll make you a gin and tonic" John said as he stood up, nearly falling over, the warm lull of the whisky numbing his movements.

" Or just the tonic" Tommy sneered as he stared you down once more before walking away.

" I'm fine John, thanks" you said as you collected your hair to one side, bringing your knuckles up to your mouth as your elbow rested on the arm of the sofa. He knew, he had to. Why hadn't he confronted you?

" Right, everyone shut up and take a look at this" Arthur said as he pulled out a gun. " Brand new, never been shot, acquired under... illegitimate circumstances" he sniggered, holding it up for everyone to see.

" Bloody hell here he goes again, nobody cares about your new gun Arthur" John laughed as he leant back into his armchair looking up at the ceiling.

" Well I bloody care!" Arthur replied stubbornly as John continued to laugh." Y/N, take a look. Beautiful ain't it?" Arthur said as he walked over to you, presenting it like someone would their newborn child.

" Yeh, it's erh...nice Arthur" you replied smiling back to him.

" You ever held a gun before Y/N?"

"No" you shook your head as he held it out for you take.

" Go on, hold it, she won't bite" Arthur chuckled as Tommy and John watched on. " Heavier than you'd think ay?

" It is" you said, surprised by the weight of the cool piece of metal in your hand. "What does this do?" you asked as your thumb rested over a small lever at the top.

" Ooh, no no don't touch that" he laughed looking back to his brothers. " That's the safety, we don't want to shoot anyone's balls off tonight" he chuckled as he clicked it up and down showing you how it worked. " Hold it like this" Arthur motioned to you as your eyes quickly darted to Tommy leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, his chin lifted as his eyes narrowed in on you, watching your every move. "Good" he praised as he helped you up, turning you to look at yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. " We'll soon make a Peaky out of you" Arthur laughed winking to you as he walked off in search of more whisky.

Lowering your hand you looked at your reflection in the mirror as Tommy walked behind you, wrrapping his hand around your stomach.

"Like this" your husband said, placing his hand over yours, moving your finger under the trigger as he raised it back up to both of your reflections.

" Bang" he said quietly in your ear, aiming the gun at your heart in the mirror as his thumb rubbed over your stomach. " You think you could take a life sweetheart?" he asked as he turned his head into your neck, his lips inches from your skin.

" If my own was in danger" you replied turning to face him, a tear falling down your face. He was scaring you, his questions leaving an unsettling feeling in your stomach.

" Your life's never been in danger darling" he said as he lowered the gun in your hand, his other coming up to brush the tear from your cheek.

" But everyone I have known or loves me life is" you replied as you freed your hand from under his. "Tommy why, why would you do that to my mother?" You quietly sobbed as you stared back at him, searching his eyes for an answer, the first to finally break.

"You're tired Y/N, you don't know what you're talking about. Come on let's go to bed" Tommy replied ignoring your questions as he took your hand.

" No. Stop treating me like a child Tommy, answer me. Everything was perfect, but you just couldn't stop yourself, why?" You asked as you pulled your hand away from him stepping back.

" We'll talk about it tomorrow? Now come on" he said taking back your hand as you resisted once more. " You're making a scene Y/N. Do you really want to do this in front of everyone?" He said through gritted teeth as he placed his palm on your lower back pushing you with him to the door as you shook your head in response, reluctantly following him. The last thing you wanted to do was anger him, you knew what would happen if you did, and with your mother being in a vulnurable situation you feared what he would do next. " We're going to bed" Tommy announced as he put Arthur's gun down on the coffee table, his brothers chuckling in resposne.

" Alright Tom boy. Nighty night, have fun" Arthur smiled as he pulled a black barell out his jacket attaching it to his gun.

" What's that?" You said stopping, pulling your hand from Tommy as you turned to face Arthur.

"Y/N, come on" Tommy insisted his grip on your back firmly pushing you forward.

" It's a silencer love, so our little...missions go unheard" Arthur replied as you was half-way out the door when you turned to look at Tommy, his eyes darting between you and Arthur as he cleared his throat. A silencer. It looked identical to the object Harry had found in the barn. Why would there be a silencer in the stables? Tommy's sudden uneasy behaviour had you quickly believing whatever the reason was it was to do with him.

Sitting at the small kitchen table the next morning you buried your head in you arms. Another restless night, two days of almost no sleep, you was barely able keep your head up. Not only was you worried for your mother you had this ongoing feeling in you stomach that something wasn't right. The way Tommy reacted last night when you saw Arthur's silencer had unsettled you. Looking up at the clock you realised you was only a few hours away from the appointment Tommy had made for you, one you knew you had know way of avoiding. Tommy would soon learn you had been keeping the news of your pregnancy from him. Would he go easy on you with his punishment, now you was carrying his child? A part of you already believed he knew your was pregnant, the small touches to your stomach his eyes lingering on your belly, the remarks he would make. What you didn't understand was why he hadn't said anything, what was he waiting for?

" Would you like some tea Mam, let me serve you a cup in the dinning room" Frances said as she walked into the kitchen with an armful of items.

" Oh, no thank you Frances, I quite like being in here watching you all" you said as you lifted your head, the busy noise from the kitchen calming your nerves.

" Mr Shelby will be waiting for you though"

" Let him wait" you said as you brushed your hair back from your face as she gave you a small smile, placing the items on the table in front of you.

" Frances...where did you find that?" You said as you reached your hand out to a small bottle she had placed on the counter.

" In the guest room Mam, I've only just got round to putting it away"

" Which guest room?" You questioned as you held the bottle in your hand, your leg bouncing up and down at the sudden surge of anxiety coursing through your limbs.

" The small one, where Mr Shelby slept when he was sick" she replied as she scrunched her brow at the tears now welling in your eyes, your head shaking in disbelief. The bottle was still sealed, Tommy never took the medicine the doctor prescribed him that night. He let himself get sick. The silencer, the medicine, the vague explanation he gave that night...it suddenly all made sense. He shot himself.

"Mam are you ok?" Frances asked as she reached her hand out to you when you abruptly stood up, bolting out the kitchen into the foyer. Your head was spinning, the sudden realisation of events churning your stomach as a crescendo of panic overwhelmed you. He shot himself, the sick bastard shot himself. He said he was coming back from the stables that night. The same stables where harry just so happened to find the strange black object as he was clearing out the barn, the object you now knew was a silencer made for a gun. He shot himself in almost the exact same place from a previous bullet wound. He knew he wouldn't die, he survived it once he would survive it again. As you tried to make sense of everything, the words Tommy left you with that night suddenly rang in your ears "You will learn to love me again". The man who would stop at nothing to keep you under his control, to keep you hoping for the boy he once was executed the most ultimate act of desperation for your love.

Running to the phone you frantically tried to form a clear sentence to the operator on the end of the line as you desperately asked her to put you through to Polly.

" Yes Miss Polly Gray, try Watery la..." You started to say when you felt a warm hand take the receiver from you, placing it back down onto the table.

" What are you doing love?" Tommy said, breathing against the back of your neck as you slowly turned around to face him, his eyes boring into you as he watched the tears fall down your face.

" Stay away from me, you fucking stay away from me!" you shouted at him as you walked backwards to the front door.

"Y/N" he warned you, unable to hold back the smirk forming on the corner of his mouth.

" You sick twisted bastard!" You screamed as your back hit the large wooden door.

" Now I know you didn't mean that " he replied pointing at you as he started walking slowly towards you. Turning around you fumbled to undo the lock, pushing it with force as your ran out the house down to the bottom of the path.

" Should we go after her?" one of Tommy's men said stood in the foyer.

" No leave her, she won't get far" Tommy replied as he lit a cigarette walking out the front door. " Come back inside darling, it's cold!" he shouted as he watched you run to the large gate at the end of the drive pushing it back and forth as you tried to open it. " It's locked sweetheart" he said as he approached behind you like you would a wild horse.

" Get away from!" You cried as you started walking along the fence in the hopes of finding an exit.

" Alright then, we'll go on a little walk eh?" Tommy chuckled as he caught up with you, reaching his hand out for you to take as if you was going on a romantic stroll through the countryside. Slapping it away you glared at him as he laughed in response, amused by the whole situation.

" Stay away from me Tommy. You're fucking insane! What kind of person shoots themselves for their wife's sympathy" you said as Tommy grabbed you by the arm spinning you around to face him.

" You're loosing it sweetheart if you've convinced yourself of that"

" You're not so clever Tommy, I figured it out. Harry found the silencer in the barn. You shot yourself that night and you didn't take the medicine the doctor prescribed. Why...because you couldn't stand the fact I hated you, so you forced me to take pity on you, to give you a second chance, forced me to feel something for you again. You seethed, pushing his hand away as you stormed off.

" Think you've been reading too many novels darling" Tommy chuckled as he caught up to you, standing in your path, mirroring your movements with each step you tried to make.

" Im so stupid, I can't believe I fell for it. Fell for your lies" you said coming to a stop, brushing the tears from your cheeks.

" Lies? I never lied that night Y/N, when I told you that you kept me alive, kept me going in France I meant it.

" So much that you've been following me for the past decade. You're a freak Tommy!" You said as you pushed past him.

"Yeh alright, I admit it. Guilty" he replied putting his hands up in a mock gesture as he jogged up to where you was again " You did something to me in France, put a spell on me, bewitched me" he said with a smirk on his face as you scoffed at the ridiculous excuse for his madness.

" And my mother Tommy, what did she do to deserve your cruelness?"

" Your mother is fucking crazy, maybe it's genetic" he replied looking at you from head to toe, insinuating you was also" Your dear mother was being sedated because she was pissing everyone off, trying to escape the facility she was in, causing hell for all the doctors and nurses. But that's no longer a problem. She saw a new doctor you see, one found by me. She's been declared clinically insane, now she will spend the rest of her days locked up in the local madhouse." he viciously stated, knowing how much the news would anger you.

Grabbing the gun from his holster you pushed him away as you raised it to his face, your whole body shaking as tears blurred your vision. Chuckling, Tommy threw his cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out with his boot.

" You've got more attempted murders than me" Tommy laughed as he walked over to you, not caring you had a gun pointing straight at him. "Now give me the gun, we both know you're not gonna do anything"

" No!" You said pulling down the safety like Arthur had shown you, the expression on Tommy's face suddenly changing.

"What? You gonna shoot the father of that baby growing inside you" he said as he gestured to your stomach. " You're not so innocent Y/N are you, hm? Was quite the shock I had when one of my men told me you had visited that old hag in London. Was you going to get rid of my child eh, my fucking child?!"

" I...no Tommy" you cried, feeling the barrier of the gun protecting you suddenly evaporating as you unconsciously lowered the pistol in your hand, your secret now spoken, exposed.

" You thought about it though. See, I was waiting for confirmation from a doctor since you wouldn't tell me yourself, but you just did that for me didn't you? Now what you're gonna do right.." he said as he pointed his finger at you, his face reddened by anger. "Is give me that gun. Then we'll go home and talk about this like adults" he ordered as he stepped forward.

" No!" You screamed back as you raised the pistol in your hand once more. " You've ruined my Life, you've taken away everyone i love and care about. I won't let you ruin this child's life as well! You cried as you stood your ground your whole body trembling as a surge of adrenaline rushed through you.

" Give me the fucking gun Y/N! " Tommy shouted as he stormed over to you. " Now!"

It happened so quickly, you didn't think twice about doing it, you weren't even sure you thought at all when your finger pressed down on the trigger sitting beneath your skin. With your eyes firmly shut you listened to the last echos of the gunshot fade around you, the distant sound of autumn leaves blowing in the wind, and then silence total silence as if for a brief moment the world stood still and watched as everything played out. Lowering the gun, a wave of relief left your body as you stood there, the chilled breeze of winter approaching cooling the anger within you. Peace had finally descended on the grounds of Arrow house, or had it?

" You missed..." you heard through the crisp country air, your eyes darting open to see your husband standing in front of you, staring you down. Dropping the gun in your hand you collapsed onto the ground below you in tears as you watched him charge towards you, pulling you up from the grass. " Anyone could have made that shot" he said as he grabbed your head between his hands. " Yet you missed, you missed! See, you love me Y/N. I knew you fucking loved me!" he said reasoning with his own madness, pressing his lips to yours, his hands wrapped tightly around you, the only thing holding you up as the life drained from you.

" Fuck.." he said letting go, sighing as all the anger he was holding in left him. " We're made for eachother Y/N. You and me. It was always meant to be" he said cupping your cheeks once again, as you nodded, crying tears you no longer thought you had left, giving in, no more strength left to tell him otherwise. Pressing his forehead to yours Tommy brought his hand down to your stomach, rubbing his thumb over the small swell under your dress.

" When this one is born, I'll put another in you then another until that whole house is filled" He smiled unnervingly as his eyes darted back to Arrow House in the distant. " You and me yeh, our own little family"

" Tommy, I..I want to go home" you said as you looked up at him your eyes pleading one last time to be free of him.

" This is your home sweetheart. You belong with me you've always belonged to me" he said pressing your head in his hands his eyes inches from yours. " I will never let you leave, never. You're mine Y/N"

He will never let you go. He will hunt you down and live forever through you...the words you heard all those months ago would now cruelly haunt you until your last breath. It was over, your childhood love was gone, there was nothing left of you. You were shackled to him for the rest of your life, bearing his children so his legacy could live on. The game had come to an end, the ultimate prize won. He had played by his own rules for so long there was only ever going to be one outcome. An unchangeable fate had been sealed from the very moment you had met, it was always going to end this way. For you and everyone else knew, Tommy Shelby always wins, always.

The end.

Tag list: @litteltourtius (unable to tag) @aesthetic0cherryblossom @swordofawriter @casa-boiardi @muhahaha303 @fmo166 @call-sign-shark @priyajoyy @gypsy-girl-08 @missbeeentertainment @cryptidscool (unable to tag) @warrior-of-justice @runnning-outof-time @camilleholland89 @amberpanda99 @scarwxrld @pleasant-meadow @fleurfatale89 (unable to tag) @strnqer @hope4rain19

[ozmarig]

This book took a while to write, but every minute was fun. My co-writer and I (SJ Powell) spent many late nights (morning for him due to time zone difference), re-reading and editing what I had written. It wasn't easy for him because, between us, I was the local one who knew the lore. But his appreciation of the lore was very helpful. Sol provided the insight of someone who is not familiar with the lore, but was fascinated by it.

The wonderful Boyet Abrenica did the beautiful artwork, and we are very pleased with it — Sol and I, and our publisher.

We are proud of this work. It features characters, rituals, and magic as true to the lore as possible. The creatures in the book are unique, we guarantee, to whoever loves fantasy. The lore is very rich with fascinating beings, both mortal and immortal, corporeal and ethereal.

To foreign readers, if you want a break from vampires, werewolves, faes, angels, and demons — we want to tempt you with equally ominous, dangerous, yet oh so compelling creatures.

To the Filipinos who grew up with and loves horror and fantasy stories about the usual scary suspects — aswangs, manananggals, tiyanaks, etc. We dare you to read a more diverse spread of horrific impaktos and malignos. They are the staple in our books. I promise you; I didn't invent them. They have long existed in our culture. I just brought them to the fore. Sol can vouch for how gruesome a few of them were.

The main characters of the series are also particularly timely, although we didn't purposefully write it because of the current 'woke' culture pertaining to the LGBTQ ++ community. Feminine energy just happened to be crucial to the nature of a Katalonan. Hooray for the pre-colonial Filipinos for being so accepting. (Sometimes I wonder what happened to that mindset.)

We wrote the "bayoks/bayoguin" characters with little emphasis on their gender. We simply wrote them as humans, as people whose issues would resonate with anyone. Indeed, without the femininity born into them, they wouldn't be Katalonans.

But most especially, the series is more about the lore — fantastical, dark, natural and full of wisdom.

We hope you love it as much as we did. Below is the blurb of the first book.

Orphaned, bullied, and threatened with exorcism, Beliza flees her village despite having nowhere to go and nothing to her name. She encounters a mysterious woman they call the Chief Katalonan, who entices her to search for answers about the bizarre experiences in her life.

Together with eight others, Beliza finds herself in training to be a conduit between the intertwined ethereal and corporeal realms, Hiwagaan and Sansinukob. And for someone who had nothing, she can now wield the power over light and dark.

Beliza gains a father figure in her elemental guide, Tamauro. Powerful & ancient, he teaches her how to deal with entities that cross into both worlds — beings as dark & dangerous as her own childhood traumas.

Soon, she and her friends must face menacing and unknown adversaries sent by Sitan, the lord of darkness, at the cost of a life and friendship.

Let us know if you like it. (We would love a review in Amazon and/or Goodreads).

And if you do like it, how would you like to beta read book 2 - The Lair of Shadows and Light?

[necrospellbinder]

Say My Name

Title: Say My Name

Rating: T

Description: Sometimes, you just need someone to say your name, your actual name. Not Wizard. Keep reading for more. 

Part 1: Prawn to the King’s Forth

You were promised a vacation by the Arcanum. You were promised some well deserved time off. Time alone to yourself…And yet here you are, heading to the Arcanum’s calls immediately after dismissing you.

What luck; another promise broken.

You step into the Arcanum, bracing yourself for whatever condescending smart remarks Librarian Fitzhume throws at you. You grumble under your breath as you take each step, ranting about how everyone the Arcanum seems to treat you like a pitiful child, even though you’ve saved the spiral from collateral catastrophe…thrice. Ione and the fore mentioned Fitzhume especially seem to think of you as incompetent.

As you approach the pompous Librarian, he sneers at you as he speaks, “Oh, look, it’s the hero of Unicorn Way.” You stare back at him with a snarl, your eyebrows raised and your teeth clenched.

“What? I’m a librarian; I do my research!” Fitzhume retorts back. “But seriously, nice job saving us from cataclysmic doom.”

You raise your eyebrow further, not sure whether he is being serious or mocking you. But you shrug your shoulders as he continues to speak in his annoyingly posh accent. “You and I are a lot alike, you know. We’re both made to perform tasks we didn’t sign up for, and we never get the credit we deserve.”

You relax your eyebrows, realizing that he was being serious and not at all condescending. But you quickly raise them up again when you begin to wonder what exactly the Arcanum is up to this time. He wouldn’t just praise you if he didn’t want something.

“For instance, after the Musiocology Scholar blew up his office, who managed the clean up and do all the paperwork move him into a new one?” Fitzhume asks.

Since when does the Arcanum have a Musiocology Scholar?

“Me!” Fitzhume answers his own question. “And when Ione needs someone to fix her problems - or was it a mole problem? Yes…fix her mole problem, who does she run to?”

Prospector Zeke? At this point, you’re convinced that anything’s possible, that anyone could be your next enemy. Who do you trust? Who is your friend? Who knows-

“That’s right, me!” Fitzhume answers again, snapping you back into reality. “LIBRARIAN Fitzhume. I’m two millennia’s worth of books to Dewey decimalize, yet Princess Ione makes me call the exterminator!”

Right, that’s where you come in, of course.

“‘Hero of the Arcanum’ is what they should call me!” Fitzhume complains. “Oh well; you should probably help Ione before that mole makes too big of a mess.”

You begrudgingly nod your head, dreading the absolute worst to happen. Whether that be from the cabal, or a new threat entirely, only time will tell.

-

You immediately rush into Scholar Ione Virga’s office, to the surprise of absolutely no one.

“Ah, Wizard; welcome back.” Ione greets you, already knowing what you are about to say. “What you’ve heard is true. The Arcanum has a mole.”

Better get this over with then, you think to yourself.

“But first, we must attend to the matter of your rank.” Ione adds. “Besting your primordial powers of creation and saving all life goes well beyond the responsibilities of an Understudy.”

That’s only putting it lightly, of course.

“In addition, your work to unite the factious forces of Light and Shadow, as well as the Arcanum and the Council of Light, deserves special recognition.” Ione continues as she hands you a bag of items inside. “Thus, I hereby promote you to Arcanum Liaison and grant you the appropriate uniform.”

What, is what your wearing too casual for the Arcanum? Rude. Nobody really ever appreciates all that you do, and it makes you feel like you are personally unwanted. No, not the savior persona you’ve had to put on for everyone; the real, honest you.

“I also wish to personally extend an earnest…thank you.” Ione nervously adds, before immediately moving onto the main reason why you have been sent here in the first place.

“Now, onto the mole issue.” Ione nods her head. “Following Grandfather Spider’s retirement, we’ve been monitoring Cabal communications for attempted retribution. Unfortunately, we traced many of the communications right back here to the Arcanum. The Musiocology Department, to be precise.”

Again, since when did the Arcanum have a Musiocology Department?

“After the Medulla Headache, we ask that you, the Arcanum Liaison, be the first to confront Scholar Von Trap. For liability reasons, of course.”

So much for the heartfelt, earnest thank you, Ione.

-

With Von Trap’s new office being next to your Arcanum Office/Apartment, you barge in to find the Mole in question humming a merry tune.

Not caring for his musical antics, you forcefully demand the Cabalist Mole to surrender now, or else.

Shocked, Von Trap turns to you and responds in a thick, olde fashioned Karamelle accent, “Surrender Cabalist Mole? Such an odd greeting-”

Realization strikes in quickly as to why you have confronted him. “Oooh, I think I see what is going on here. Come, let us speak.”

You sigh aloud, complying with this Mole’s request. You might as well hear him out before you blast him to smithereens.

“First with the Introductions, I am Maulwurf Von Trap, Scholar of Musciology!” The Mole, Maulwurf introduces himself to you. He seems polite enough, almost to a suspicious degree. “A very exciting magical discipline in which we have no time to discuss.”

When is there ever any time to discuss such trivialities?

Maulwurf continues talking by explaining, “As you have observed, I am mole, but not of the sneaky-sneaky-infiltraty variety, no, no! In fact, it is I who has uncovered the latest Cabal plot!”

You raise your eyebrow in suspicion, but remain silent to hear what exactly this Mole has discovered.

“Indeed, Grandfather Spider may be silenced forever, but his former underlings still carry his old, shadowy tune!” Maulwurf continues. “As we speak, a fiend named the Scarlet Shrimpenel is plotting to retake Khrysalis!”

Khrysalis…now that’s a place you remember. Not only did you spend a considerable amount of time there, but that’s where you defeated the Shadow Queen after failing to save Azteca from Xiabalba. It’s also where you freed Grandfather under Taylor Coleridge’s influence. That Rat got off Scott free for what he did…

How much has Khrysalis changed since you freed it from the Umbra Legion?

You press Maulwurf for more details.

“He plans to assassinate King Pyat MourningSword and seize the throne!” Maulwurf explains, complying with your request. “You know this world, yes? Then you must go to Bastion and thwart him!”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice; there’s a king in danger, and a world that needs defending. Same old song and dance, same old boring routine. Best get going, then.

-

You arrive in Bastion as quickly as you can; somehow, the Spiral Door is still not fixed. Perhaps it’s a security measure to prevent unwanted guests from entering? Not that it matters, because you’ve been spotted by someone; someone with a strong sense of perception and awareness.

A silhouette runs in the distance, coming closer towards you.

“Halt!” The figure ahead immediately yells, stopping you from moving any further. As he comes closer, his features become more recognizable; the long ears, the antlers on his helmet, the tail, those eyes and that deep, authoritative voice…

That mouse is Dyvim Whitehart; the first true ally you made in Khrysalis.

“No one may enter Khrysalis without-” The Mouse Knight immediately stops in his tracks as he takes a closer look at you. He remembers you, and a bright smile arises from his lips (or the mouse equivalent of lips).

His eyes light up with excitement, and his voice turns from stern to jolly.

“Oh, Spellbinder, it’s you!” The mouse cheers, happy to see you once more. A weak smile rises from your lips; it’s good to know that he still remembers you.

Of course he does…why wouldn’t he?

As far as allies go, he was one of the more helpful and pleasant ones to have by your side, that’s for sure. In fact, you could consider him a friend; he certainly seems to consider you one. But he, like everyone else in the Spiral, has never said your name out loud.

To him, you must just still be “Wizard”, or, more accurately, “The Spellbinder”. That’s what he’s more excited about, not you personally, you tell yourself.

“Is this a social visit, or has a new calamity returned you to our world?” Dyvim asks out of peeked curiosity. You hesitantly nod your head at the latter, as you explain to him what you’ve been told. His face goes white.

“A shadowy cabal agent named the Scarlet Shrimpenel is here in Bastion, and he stalks our king?” Dyvim asks, relaying everything told to him. You nod again in confirmation. “No, that’s impossible!”

Well, it’s always possible Maulwurf is lying. But your duty as the Spiral’s hero requires you to act in good faith.

“I’ve personally verified each and every person that has come through this world door.” Dyvim responds back to you. He looks off the the door in question, lost in thought. “Unless…”

Unless…?

“…there was a conspicuously large delivery of seafood that came through recently.” Dyvim theorizes. He looks back at you again with intense vigor you recognize from your past adventures with him. “Perhaps those crates were packed with more than just imported fish. I made note of the delivery’s final destination. Follow me!”

You nod in response, following Dyvim as he leads you to where the suspicious seafood was supposedly delivered. As the two of you walk closer, the stench of smelly Polarian fish draws closer.

“Do you smell that?” Dyvim asks you as he sniffs the putrid fish musk. You nod. “It’s the stench of evil…and shellfish.” Dyvim was never one to hide his true feelings. If he had something to say, then he was going to say it!

It must be nice, to feel so intensely as he does. But your feelings…your feelings feel subdued. Pacified.

“Once again, old friend, let us save Khrysalis.” Dyvim responds back in a heartfelt, compassionate tone, placing a hand, or a rather a paw, on your shoulder. You look back at him, the fire in his eyes burning bright. “Together. Kiai!”

-

Inside the two of you barge inside the building to find Cabal Arachna talking about dinner. They notice you and Dyvim, and beam with twisted excitement.

“Ooh, it seems someone has ordered lunch for us!” The Arachna Cabalist cheers. “Rebuilding a Shadow Empire on the ashes of this new Khrysalis is hard work! Let’s eat!”

At least they aren’t Cannibal Mice. Are those Barbarians from the Khonda Desert still Cannibals? Guess you’ll just have to ask Dyvim later, if you get the chance to or even remember to.

As Dyvim draws his sword to launch an arial attack on both Cabalist, you cast a spell on Dyvim to amplify the power of his attack tenfold. His attack easily lands on the Cabalists, and they fall to the ground, now sliced in half. Those Arachna didn’t even try to fight back.

Either that, or you’ve become too powerful for your own good.

“I’d forgotten the thrill of fighting at your side, Spellbinder!” Dyvim responds to you, lifting his sword back up from the remains of the Arachna Cabalists. His smile is unwavering, his ability to persevere still unrivaled. No fear in him whatsoever. “Let us press on!”

You nod, as you follow him upstairs. When you both arrive, you find the Scarlet Schrimpenel in his glory. Or lack thereof.

He notices the both of you, and mockingly monologues to himself. “Well, well. Look what the rat dragged in; the Divine Paradox.”

Great…He’s one of those enemies is he? Not that it matters; he’ll be defeated in a moment’s notice.

You silently prepare to cast a spell of devastating power on the Scarlet Schrimpenel as he continues to monologue. “Before you, the Cabal had a purpose, a unity, a dream; to restore the first world! But now we’re fragmented, disjointed, searching for lost power, and forced to kowtow to one whose ambitions would destroy all that we are!”

Does he ever stop talking? Apparently not, because he doesn’t realize the nasty spell you’re about to cast on him.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Shrimpy asks mockingly. “A new leader has emerged in Spider’s wake. An Old One, ever watching. He has such plans for you. He will-”

Dyvim cuts him off, striking at him with his blade in hand. Clearly, he’s had enough of this clown as much as you have. “Ugh, enough talk you malodorous monster! To battle, Kiai!”

It’s not going to be much of a battle, you think to yourself as you finally cast your spell on Shrimpy. It lands on him, immediately striking the pathetic Cabalist Specimen. With your attack and Dyvim’s fierce and swift strikes, Shrimpy is overwhelmed and falls in defeat. As predicted.

On his knees, Shrimpy continues to monologue. “I would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling Divine Paradox! How did you even know where to find me?!” He stops, before cursing Maulwurf’s name aloud.

“The old mole in the Arcanum…” Shrimpy adds. “Figures he’d side with the Old One.”

You and Dyvim both look at him with annoyance before looking back at each other with mutual understanding. Mutually agreeing that this Shrimp is an eyesore and a nuisance.

“What? I know he’s literally a mole. He’s also a Spy!” Shrimpy adds again, to the amusement of absolutely no one.

Yes, that has already been established. The Mole is a Mole. In other news, water is wet, and the Spiral is a Spiral.

A group of assigned Burrower Knights arrive upstairs to detain the Scarlet Schrimpenel. Realizing this, Schrimpenel becomes unhinged and rants, “We’re everywhere! You’ll never win!” As he is handcuffed and detained by the Burrower Knights, he retracts his false statement. “Or…you’ll never win any additional times! The law of averages is on our side; you have to lose eventually!”

“My word, he’s a talkative one.” Dyvim sighs loudly as he watches the Burrowers take Shrimpy away. He continues to rant and rave, yet each every word that comes from that Shrimp’s mouth has nothing of value.

Dyvim sighs once more, this time of relief. He adds, “He’s the Palace Guard’s problem now.”

Of course, the Shrimp is talking now, but wait until he’s out to the question. Then he’ll be as quiet as a mouse-err, rat.

“Come, Wizard. This place reeks.” You nod in agreement, and follow Dyvim outside.

-

The both of you step outside, basking in the fresh air away from the evil stench of shellfish. Well, evil to Dyvim anyway.

You, however, have smelled much more fowl things and people…His Rancidness, the Trash King included. Yuck.

Dyvim looks at you with sincere eyes and a wide smile curled on his lips, “As wonderful as it was to fight alongside you again, Spellbinder, maybe next time we could just share some cheese and a laugh, eh?” You smile as he laughs to that thought.

A cheese and a laugh does sound nice, doesn’t it? If only…

Dyvim’s smile fades a little as he realizes that your adventure with him ends here. As much as you both want to shriek your duties to catch up and just generally hang out, fate has other plans for the both of you.

So this is where you both draw the line; this is where you both say goodbye. For all you know, you may never see Dyvim again after this. If fate wills it so…

Dyvim adds in authoritative tone, “Until then, you must alert your Arcanum compatriots to what the Shrimpman said about the spy, Maulwurf.”

He places a paw on your shoulder again; you look back at him as he adds in a confident, yet reassuring tone of voice, “May the light guide you, my friend.”

You brace yourself for how Ione will react to the current tide of events. And as you make your way back to Khrysalis’s Spiral door, a deep longing in your heart begins to grow. You take a quick look back at Dyvim; the fire in his eyes has seemed to fizzle out.

From Khrysalis back to the Arcanum, your thoughts remain stuck on Dyvim Whitehart.

-

“Wizard, you return.” Ione coldly states manner of fact as you approach her in her office once more. “Finally…I am pleased. What news of the Mole Situation?”

Deep down, you want to walk out of the trouble your in, because you’re not sure where to even begin. But there’s there’s nowhere for you to go.

You explain the situation to Ione as quickly and briefly as you can, wasting no time on pleasantries and trivialities. Just on the duty at hand.

“Scholar Von Trap is spying on the Arcanum and the Cabal?” Ione asks, puzzled by the sudden revelation. “A double double agent. I find this…confusing.” Ione shakes her head, casting aside her confusion and doubt back to Arcanum business at hand. “When you left for Khrysalis, Maulwurf went to his Musciology Studio to prepare a, quote, ‘surprise for you’. No doubt a trap.”

A trap? From Maulwurf Von Trap? No way, it couldn’t be! Is what you would say to Ione if you weren’t afraid of having your Arcanum privileges revoked, but you hold your tongue.

Ione continues with explaining your next objective. “But you must spring it. Apprehend Maulwurf and bring him to me. Then he will learn that I, too, can be…persuasive.”

You nod, preparing for a grand fight against Maulwurf, or whatever else he has in store for you in his studio. You rush inside the studio near his office, and are greeted by a friendly smile on the mole’s face.

“Wizard, you are back!” Maulwurf cheerfully responds to your arrival. “Has the Scarlet Schrimpenel been…dealt with?”

You nod, confirming Shrimpy’s defeat.

“Wunderbar!” Maulwurf exclaims. “He was just going to get in our way. Now, for your reward…”

As Maulwurf finishes setting up your ‘reward’, you contemplate what exactly he’s going to throw at you. Will it be an ambush of Cabal Soldiers? An unholy monster from the depths of Tartarus or the Edge of the Spiral itself? The third resurrection of Rattlebones?

No, instead, it is a Boombox. With a tongue. That’s shaped like a chest. Basically, a musical Mimmic.

“You must face the Doombox, and you must face it NOW!” Maulwurf yells from the recording booth. “PLAY!”

Intense music starts playing as the Doombox charges at you at maximum power. Luckily for you, the Doombox’s best is nowhere near your level of skill.

To the beat and groove of the rhythm, you and the Doombox blast spells back and fourth at each other, in sync in a powerful duet of spellbinding. But like all songs, your duel with the Doombox comes to an end as you fire your last spell at the device. And with that, the music accompanying your duel stops.

“Do you feel the music, Wizard?” Maulwurf asks as you stand triumphant against the cursed Doombox. “Coursing through you like electricity? If not, we shall have to do this again.”

You nod in response. You’ve had enough.

“Good!” Maulwurf responds back. “This rhythm will syncopate with your magic to create a new spell! A small token of gratitude for dealing with the stinky Schrimpenel!”

Oh right, you almost forgot; Maulwurf is a Cabalist Mole.

“What?! Me…a Cabal Spy?!” Maulwurf exclaims, astonished by your sudden hostility as you confront him once more. “Herrrr Shrimpy spilled the Jellybeans, didn’t he?”

You nod again.

“Well then, OK. I confess.” Maulwurf admits in defeat. “I am indeed a Mole. Also the Mole. I multi-task.” He sighs a deep sigh of relief and wipes the sweat dripping off his forehead. “Whew! Feels good to say that out loud!”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow at the Mole, glaring at him as intensely as a Bolt of Insane Intensity.

“But please know that I have only the best of intentions!” Maulwurf adds. “Come, come! Let us March to my office and discuss this further!”

-

Inside of Maulwurf’s office, Ione awaits near the office’s desk, ready to attack at any time.

But instead of attacking she just...she threatens Maulwurf with words, “Bite your tongue, traitor.”

Maulwurf sighs aloud, “You see, this is our problem. Always with the fighty words. Is it not time we move the discussion forward? Come, let us speak of something new.”

You raise an eyebrow. What does he mean by new, you wonder?

“Well, I say something new…” Maulwurf adds. “First we must discuss something far older than our silly little schism…the Great Old One himself.”

Grandfather Spider? Grandfather Bartelby? Merle Ambrose? How come you haven’t heard of this name until now-actually, you’re not surprised. It seems like a lot of names just come out of nowhere, doesn’t it?

“The Great Old One is just a myth!” Ione retorts back in a hostile tone. “There is no ‘secret author of history, always watching, always nudging.’ That is pure Cabal propaganda.”

“Oh you are quite wrong,” Maulwurf confidently argues back. “The Old One is just reclusive. At least, he was until Grandfather Spider went kaput. Now, he speaks out for a change.”

You and Ione exchange mutual suspicious glances at each other before letting Maulwurf continue with what else he has to say about the Old One.

“The Great Old One has established the grand summit; a conference to unite all Cabal factions under one common goal: peace with the Arcanum!” Maulwurf explains. “Ione makes the scrunchy suspicious face, but the summit will be hosted in the sweetest world in all the Spiral: Karamelle! My beloved home.”

Ione pauses to recollect her thoughts, process her opinion on Maulwurf and the Cabal’s supposed peace treaty.

“Karamelle is famous for it’s peaceful neutrality.” Ione states aloud. “Just thinking of it makes me want to…smile.” Ione manages to crack a small, sincere smile at both you and Maulwurf. “As Arcanum Liaison, you shall represent us, Wizard.”

“Wunderbar!” Maulwurf cheers. He turns towards you and adds, “Meet me in Karamelle City, and I will escort you to my home! Because the summit is at my house. Not because it is a trap!”

You nod and breathe a sigh of both relief and sorrow as you step out of Maulwurf’s office. A heavy weight still hangs over your head like a rain cloud.

Dyvim. It’s been so long since you saw him, and yet you had to leave him so soon…you’re not sure why you are constantly thinking of him specifically today. After all, there’s so many other people in Spiral you could be thinking of.

But it’s starting to gnaw into your heart.

-

Part 2: Breath of Bastion

The Peace Summit didn’t go as planned. To no one’s surprise, another threat to the Spiral is yours to handle. As to how, though, that would be tricky. How do you fight what you can’t even understand? You fought yourself, or your evil twin doppelgänger. But what happens now?

And what about the Old One? What happened to him?

“Lemuria…” You swear, you hear a feint voice call out to you…but you can’t see anything. You sigh, going back to what you were doing; sorting out your mail.

You notice you have a letter addressed to you in your mailbox. A recent letter, too, with today’s date on it, The handwriting is unfamiliar, but familiar at the same time. Addressed to you, the Wizard. A curious paradox in your mind; you decide you want to look into the letter further.

You hastily tear the envelope open to get to the actual letter itself.

It reads:

“Dear Spellbinder,

If you have the time, I would like to invite you to my Burrow for lunch. Thanks to some modifications and innovations made to Khrysalis’s security system and means of transportation, I finally have the means to send this letter to your address! Stop by whenever you please.

Sincerely, Dyvim Whitehart”

You’re not sure how he managed to find your address…well actually that’s not true. He probably could have gotten it from someone at Ravenwood or Zaltanna or someone else he knows. But wait…was this is even really him? This could be a trap from whoever or whatever wants you dead.

What if it is Dyvim and he wants you dead? You did free Grandfather Spider after all. Yes, Spider retired but you’re still responsible. 

But what’s the best case scenario? You get a much needed break. It’s not much but it’s something, right? But...

Wait. That voice, you hear it again. “Lemuria”…Lemuria it calls…

Lunch break with Dyvim it is.

-

You quickly arrive in Bastion, now raining since the last time you visited; Dyvim’s already standing by the door; he’s been eagerly waiting for your arrival.

“Spellbinder!” Dyvim cheerfully greets you. “Did you get my letter?” You nod in response as silent raindrops fall on you. The almost empty, muted stare in your eyes alerts Dyvim a little, his initial excitement drops a little.

But Dyvim still smiles back at you. “Good. But before we can go to my Burrow, I just need to set up the Penumbra Barrier. Wait one moment, please!”

With the snap of a finger, the old Penumbra Barrier you destroyed when you first entered Bastion magically appears behind you and Dyvim.

“Zaltanna taught me,” Dyvim immediately explains. “With the threat of the Cabal and remnants of the Umbra Legion, we have to employ more measures secure Khrysalis’s safety.”

Makes sense. Can’t argue with that.

Dyvim adds in a softer, hushed tone, “But enough of that; shall I lead the way?”

You nod once more; the rain pouring harder and harder the longer you two stand outside.

-

The two of you arrive at Dyvim’s abode in the Silent Market, a place that now hardly lives up to it’s name. As you step inside, you notice just how spacious the place is. It’s so grand and yet so…cozy at the same time. A welcome change from the rain pouring outside.

The place is also rather spotless; most likely, Dyvim did some cleaning to make the place look nice for potential visitors such as yourself. How very thoughtful of him!

Too bad he’ll have to do more cleaning after this, though.

“This Burrow belonged to my family for generations,” Dyvim explains as he shows you around. “Before the Hundred Year War. After the restoration of Bastion, I was able to reclaim my family’s old home. Although at the moment, I am the only resident living here. It gets to be a little tiresome to manage this place all by myself, but I make it work.” He tours you through his Burrow in each room, from the Living Room filled to the brim with books and scrolls neatly tucked away in a neat bookshelf to his own resting quarters with more books and scrolls. After the Guest Bedroom, The last stop is the dining room, all set up and ready for meals to be served.

“Stay right here,” Dyvim says aloud. “I’ll be right back; please, make yourself comfortable!” You nod as you take a seat on one of the Ornate Chairs.

You’re not sure if you can make yourself feel comfortable, but it would be rude not to try, wouldn’t it?

Inside the dining room itself, as you wait for Dyvim to return, you notice a particular set of armor and sword on display. It looks a lot like type of gear that the Burrowers use, except it’s more ornate and decorative. The cape even has special decor attached to it, reminding you of Ravenwood. It matches your chosen field of magic as well!

Noticing that you have noticed what’s in front of you, Dyvim, while holding a tray of various cheese related snacks, smiles at you and says, “Well, what do you think? It’s a gift from me to you, my friend!”

You smile back in appreciation; the amount of thought and care that he must have put into this set ought to be commended.

“It’s nothing compared to everything you have done for me and my people, but I’m glad that my present is to your liking!” Dyvim adds in a slightly flustered tone, as he carefully places the tray of food right in the center of the dining table. “Although, I suppose I shouldn’t be taking all of the credit for what you see here; the people of Khrysalis as a whole came together to make what you see here.”

You are usually a person of few words, but this time you decide to speak aloud. “How long did it take to make this?” That is what you decide to ask as you grab a handful of delectable cheesy goods for you to munch on.

While it’s not the most amazing food you’ve ever had, it’s rather well made. The presentation helps improve the flavor of the meal.

“Not too long, actually.” Dyvim responds back, grabbing a seat across from you as well as grabbing some grub for himself.

He’s a little surprised to hear you speak like that, since you are usually so soft spoken. But he’s surprised in a pleasant way. He adds, quickly explaining, “I had commissioned it as soon as you had left Khrysalis, and got the results back almost immediately afterwards. It’s been sitting here, waiting for you to claim it ever since.”

“What about the food?” You ask back, taking another bite into your lunch. “Did you make this?”

“Yes, this I made.” Dyvim answers back after swallowing a bite of his food. “To be honest with you, this is very basic Burrower Cuisine. I don’t know what you like, so I decided it would be best to just stick with the basics.”

That makes sense.

“Do you like it?” Dyvim asks, a little bit of concern starting to show itself clearly in his voice. “If you don’t, I can make something else.”

You shake your head; you are pleased with what you have.

Dyvim noticed your refusal at his offer to make something different. “As long as you are satisfied, than that’s all that matters.” Dyvim responds back, taking another bite of food.

-

The two of you talk a little bit, briefly catching up on stuff you’ve both been up to. You ask about the Barbarian Mice, and Dyvim tells you that they are still the same as they were before. You ask about the Dragonfly you and Dorian hatched in Tyrian Gorge; he tells you Dorian has named the Dragonfly Princess Waffles and has started breeding Dragonflies for the Burrowers and the Mantises to use as mounts. The name Princess Waffles got a little chuckle out of you; Dyvim seems to think the name is pretty amusing too.

You let Dyvim do most of the talking, as you don’t feel comfortable speaking about yourself. He seems content, but also he seems to be observing you. 

Then...

There’s a brief silence between the two of you as you eat, the both of you occasionally glancing at each other. In his eyes, you can sense that he can sense something amiss.

Something amiss with you.

“By the way, Spellbinder, may I ask you something?” Dyvim finally asks you in a tender voice, breaking the silence. You nod as you chew on your food. “I realized that for all this time I’ve been calling you Spellbinder, I never asked for your name. Please forgive me for not asking sooner, my friend.”

You freeze in place.

Your name…

Your name…

Not once has anyone ever called you by your name. Of course, your memories of life before Ravenwood are fuzzy and hard to recall…Perhaps, you don’t even have a name at all; your name is “Wizard”. Or it’s nothing. Because that’s all there is to you; nothing.

No, that’s not true. You have a name…you have a name!

“Spellbinder?” Dyvim asks in a concerned tone, snapping you back into reality. In the pit of his stomach, he worries that he’s struck a nerve. “Spellbinder, you look as pale as a ghost; are you alright?”

“My name…�� You mutter in response. “My name is…” You hesitantly state your name aloud. “No one has ever called me by my own name before…”

“Y/N…” Dyvim whispers, grabbing onto your trembling hands. “Is…is it alright that I call you that?”

You give a quick nod, as you stare off into the distance, lost in your intrusive thoughts.

You realize now…Karamelle has made a mess out of you. You just wanted to attend a quick, friendly peace summit. 

Instead you got stuck with cleaning cavities, shattering the fractured Cabal even further, and overthrowing a corporation with another one. One that will, realistically, probably become just as reprehensible as Nana’s Karamelle Delights.

The Cavities, the Paradoxes…it’s just as Judge Veg said; You are not guilty, but you are responsible. As such, you have to clean up this mess. And yet you wonder….why? Is it because you feel so incomplete, so empty? Is it because you want to be something more than “The Wizard”, or the “Divine Paradox?” Could all of this been prevented if you had just…didn’t think, didn’t feel at all, just acted?

“Spellbinder?” Dyvim asks again, now extremely concerned for your well-being. He tries to get your attention by staring in front of your line of sight. “Y/N…can you hear me?”

You’ve put your feelings away but lately it’s been becoming too much. Feelings of anger, sorrow, confusion, fear, even joy…

The tears you have tried so hard to suppress for so long start to stream down your face as so much comes flooding back to you. You didn’t cry when you witnessed Malistaire Drake die. You didn’t cry when you watched Azteca fall. You didn’t even cry when Dyvim was poisoned by the late Broodmother, or when he awoke from his catatonic state. You…you can’t remember the last time you have ever cried.

You feel yourself pulled suddenly close to Dyvim as he holds you in his arms. His embrace is warm; you can hear his heart pounding through his chest. You can’t remember the last time someone has comforted you like this, if anyone has at all.

And as you weep, Dyvim wonders just how long you’ve been holding onto these feelings alone, how long your skin felt so cold and clammy, so touch starved. He wonders just how long it’s been since you’ve woken up with the light on your face.

You struggle to put the words in your mouth that you want to say aloud; tears still fogging up your throat. You don’t know why hearing your name is what caused you to break down like this, to leave you so vulnerable, but what you do know is that you don’t want to be alone.

Dyvim continues to hold you close as you pour out your heart and spill out your soul. He listens as he begins to understand just how daunting the responsibility of being the Spiral’s Savior is. He understood to a degree about the responsibility that comes with being a leader, but not to this extent.

You’ve been through so much in so little time, and he realizes now that you feel like you are nothing.

He eventually lifts your chin up, wiping the fresh tears still dripping sore on your face. “Y/N…There is beauty all around us. You may not recognize it, yet what you do, what you create, brings more joy to this Spiral than you realize. There is still good to be done, both small and grand.”

Dyvim believes in you. He doesn’t want you to surrender; he wants you to keep fighting. And he’ll do anything to make you see that you are more than just the Savior of the Spiral, The Child of Light and Shadow, or the Divine Paradox.

“You are you, Y/N. You are irreplaceable to me.” Dyvim tells you, sincere and true with every word he says aloud. “Back in the Khonda Desert, when I said we were fast friends, forever, I meant it. Y/N, it doesn’t matter how far apart we are. I’ll always be there for you, my friend. That’s a promise.”

Your tears begin to dry up as you realize that out there in the big, seemingly endless Spiral, there’s someone out there who cares about you for you.

And how can you tell? He called you by your name.

-

[Author’s Note:

4/13/22: THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE LEMURIA!!!Actually I don’t even remember when I wrote this. But I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for too long and fuck it. No Beta, we die like Sylvia Drake. Perfectionism, be damned!!!

…anyway. In a way, I sort of wrote this for myself, as I am someone who’s constantly trying to suppress my own emotions and not let things bother me. I’m also not very good at reaching out to other people and asking them for help dealing with my feelings, lmao. I kind of like to imagine that after this, when the Wizard and Bootleg Old One go searching for Stallion Quartermane, that scene in the Lemuria Prequests where Old One asks if the Wizard and him will still be friends is just him parroting the Wizard’s feelings.

So...I wrote this all on my phone initially, mostly because I’m not writing on my Computer when my Computer Mouse is going to be all finnicky and glitchy on me. I need to get a new Computer Mouse, and Computer for that matter. By the way, I ended up getting a really nice Anon message that I stole and put in this fanfic. I hope you don’t mind me doing that Anon, but what you said was really kind and made me feel better. =D

I also listened to Light of my Life and Real Life from Drawn to Life: The Next Chapter writing part of this. Well I listen to a lot of songs when I write stuff but I’m mentioning that those songs because I sort of implemented the lyrics into the writing? I don’t know how else to explain it. But go listen to those songs, they are good.

By the way, If KI ends up having Dyvim betray us or whatever I am going to be so pissed. Or if he dies again, that would also be awful. But if KI gives him a canon love interest…Polyamory! That or Dyvim and Love Interest TM adopts you and becomes parental figures, depending on how old your Wizard is idk.

Well, anyways, thank you very much for reading! Any comments would be appreciated. Or if you are reading this on Tumblr (which is probably more likely let’s be honest here), any likes, reblogs, and/or messages would be appreciated! Let me know what you liked, what you didn’t, all of that is good.

Take care, and remember that someone out there really cares about you!]

[littlefreya]

Easy Prey

Summary: Direct sequel to Jerk. Ring or not, August promised himself that he will make you his, in whatever mean possible and he kept that promise. 

Pairing: August Walker x Reader (2nd person pov)

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: 18+, dark, kidnapping, bondage, dubious consent, teasing, dirty talk, gunplay (yeah add this to the list of kinks I gave you), sweet degradation and praise.

A/N: You thought August is going to sweet talk this one, didn’t you? Surprise! This was a short drabble brought by a prompt, turned into a one-shot and then my beta @agniavateira suggested this as a sequel to Jerk before I posted. Since most of you may be in a thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, enjoy my own early b-day gift to you! Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming and @sapphirescrolls who convinced me to post this. 

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Your feedback is my fuel. 🖤

Easy Prey

August Walker lived his life swinging between the two sharp edges of a sword; but then, how could he not? He had to maintain a handsome prime-alpha male reputation while hiding his true cruel nature masked beneath mist and shadows.

It took everyone by surprise once it was revealed that the slick, charming agent was a vicious, Armani-wearing monster. A hard-to-swallow pill for most, but these two diverse entities were always one and the same: 

August Walker was John Lark the way darkness followed light. 

And how unfortunate it was of you to be lured into the spider’s web, stunned by the beauty of the pearly silk; you’ve gotten too close and had your limbs caught in the sticky threads. Now captured, you’ve earned yourself a taste of August’s sweet toxin yourself. 

Fear wasn’t even close to the sensation that was gnawing in your gut.

The suite was cosy; a sleepy fire crackled in the mantle, shy beams of maple light kissed your bare breasts while you laid upon the softest pillows. It felt like a sinister joke compared to the ropes charring the supple flesh of your wrists. August had you stripped of any remnants of protection of course, save for the little jewellery circling your finger which he eyed with a blank stare that screamed in its contained silence.

Fully clothed, he stood at the fore of the bed, wearing a blue three-piece suit as if he was attending a royal wedding. A magnum was clutched in his right hand and a dagger in the other. The calmness and elegance of his appearance only made you arch and grunt in your fruitless attempts to set yourself free.

“Ropes too tight, angel?” He hummed, his voice so pleasant it felt like your lungs were floating in a void. His crystal-pale gaze dawdled upon you, invading beneath the skin, penetrating the warm crease between your legs which you fought to keep shut. 

He felt it, or maybe even smelled the arousal that wafted at his direction and chanted his name.

“I’d save my strength if I were you. We’ve already proven that no one can hear your screams and we have a long night ahead of us.”

His words covered the bones of your spine with a thick layer of frost and in your searing throat, a bitter substance reemerged. Screwing your eyes shut, you wished more than anything for this to be a nightmare; but every time the binds twisted about your hands, you remembered the dreadful meaning behind the pain. 

It was there to remind you of the harsh slap that was reality.  

August tilted his head, a smile beginning to spread from each corner of his mouth: all pleasant and  charming as if this was nothing but a couple’s naughty getaway. 

“You can’t wake up from this, this is not a dream… or a nightmare, depends on your disobedience,” he assured, boding a sudden hollow in your chest. “Now, which one do you prefer? The knife or the gun?”

“Fuck you!” 

Defiant, you gathered yourself to scream a trembling cry, sending your legs to kick the mattress in a hopeless fight. Only it made things worse as August was able to spot the little dew-kissed orchid between your legs, glistening-wet with invitation. 

Flicking a tongue over his upper lip, he crept close. His broad shoulders strained, his posture that of an elegant predator; as you saw the large outlines of his heavy cock stretching his navy-blue trousers, even hatred and horror couldn’t mask the pang of need that shot through your core.

Despite the panic, the traitorous instinct of life whispered of undisclosed, primal lust. You wished so badly you could fight or hide it, but alas there was no hiding from August. He could sense it, see it, and even taste it on his wicked tongue. 

“Gun then,” he answered and slid the knife back into the holster in his belt.

Your breath hitched as the mattress dipped beneath his weight, and you watched paralysed as he aimed the gun between your legs. Strong tremors coursed along your skin and your knees buckled and wobbled as the cold metal touched you; and yet, in that very moment, you did the impossible and moaned.

“Has it been that long since you had a dick inside you?” August observed with a vicious grin crisping his lips. It made his moustache twitch almost comically. 

“Don’t worry sweet angel, we’ll fix that soon.”

Pushing the gun between your kneecaps, he forced them open and ran the barrel feverishly down your inner thighs. The metal was freezing against your flesh, eliciting little tingles to spiral beneath the tender brush. Gasping, you looked away from him ashamed. You were terrified, not just of him, but from how much the wanton centre of your sex clenched from his ministrations.

You were bound and kidnapped by a dangerous man, and yet in your mind played the sick fantasies of him unbuckling his belt and giving you his full girth hard and wild. 

“You will soon have me in every hole,” August continued with a promise on his honeyed lips while lowering the brim of the weapon perilously close to your radiating heat and toying with the sensitive area teasingly. “I will make it hurt real bad, you’ll feel me there for days if not more,” he hummed and swerved the barrel between your engorged lips. 

“Please!” You gasped and writhed away slightly, tugging on the binds that began chafing your delicate skin. August raised his glare to meet your pleading eyes and leaned forward, his shadow looming over you entirely. Reaching one hand to your nape, he clutched you forcefully while his icy glare pierced right through your skull.

Slow and sensual he began to run the gun between your soft petals, gingerly grazing the hard shaft at the plump peak of flesh that made you cry out with both pleasure and despair. 

“Aww...” He keened and groaned. Never stopping his coaxing of your cunt with the still object, his breath huffed hot upon your cheek as he rounded his beautiful lips in faux pity. “Poor helpless little butterfly.”

Crying and dazed, you stared directly into his eyes. Words of plea kept running caged inside your head, unable to make their way out while you watched August’s large shoulder move back and forth. The movement resulting in the unwanted pleasure. Back and forth, he stroked you, gradually increasing the pace, and not without style even. Ruthless, August was keen on making you come.

You weren’t even sure what it was that you begged for at that point.

Grunts and sobs escaped your throat unwillingly. You squirmed and pushed against it, your body craving for more: not just for the rough friction that tingled at your cunt but also at the large bulge visible at his groin. The more rapture began to creep through your flowing tendons, the further you sank into delirium, wondering how he would feel like buried deep between your tight walls, fucking you the way only someone who has no boundaries would.

“Fuck!” You screamed, grinding against the metal while August leaned even closer and kissed the corner of your mouth before groaning and moaning at your lips. His hand worked hard between your thighs, the cold barrel now warm, the hollow edge coated with your elixir. 

The wall of your protests crumbled as the simmering surge of climax began pushing itself down your belly, leaving you teetering between self-loathing and ecstasy. 

“That’s right my beautiful butterfly, I’ll pluck your wings,” August promised in a husky whisper, watching you as you coiled and cried louder, your walls convulsing tightly around a sad, empty space as you came. If only you didn’t wish it was August choked between them instead.

As you slumped down, sweaty and breathless, he drawled a growl of content and slowly withdrew the gun to hold it next to your shivering face.

“I swear, Sloan’s assistants keep getting sluttier every year; the last one I fucked had a thing for me choking her,” he mocked while grazing the wet barrel against your cheek, “do you think you’d be into that too, sweetling? My hand around your throat?”  

Rounding your eyes in utter fear, you swallowed the dryness in your throat. August sighed with a malicious little grin while twisted awe danced between the blue, sparkling sapphires that examined you ecstatically, so fascinated by how easily he managed to break and bend you to his will.

Still holding the neck of the gun pressed next to your cheek, he reached the other hand above your head. A part of you was relieved for a moment, thinking he was about to untie the bind. 

But your hope quickly died as you felt his fingers rolling the ring that decorated your finger.

The diamond reflected onto the deep blue of his eyes as he examined it closely before throwing it directly into the fireplace.

“No!” You cried out brokenly, as the last memory of your old life disappeared in flames.

“Save your tears beautiful,” August retorted, his voice once again so soft it chilled your very core. He shifted his entire weight between your straddled thighs, and leaned in to kiss the wetness below your eye, “you won’t be needing it anymore.”

His tongue slipped out to collect the briny liquid that gathered on your cheek, and another hum of delight rumbled in his chest as his covered cock unmistakably ground against your mound, “I am your man from now on, might as well accept it and let me do whatever I want.”

Shivering under him, you took a deep breath, your body already swaying in demand as you felt him throbbing beneath the soft fabric of his pants. To your own horror, your head fell into a slow nod of shameful consent. 

It wasn’t just August you were afraid of, but also for yourself.    

[marvelandponder]

Commentary on the commentary continues!

"The start and end of this chapter is mirrored. It’s right there in the title card. The big twist, I just didn’t see it." "her body is rebelling against her, it didn’t listen." Heavy foreshadowing that we don't know is foreshadowing is my jam

Flash confirmed for goodest of boys. But he has some stiff competition who may also be the goodest

"They stumped me on the word castling" - Look up what castling is. I haven't seen anybody catch this so I'm giving it away as a freebie: Castling, in chess, refers to the move where your King and the rook (royal castle) switch places

TACTICAL BREATHING!! ::pumps fist victoriously:: It helps!!

"[Flash and Sunset] both sorta understand each other in this way." Yeah, they do that. Fun fact: Flash has known Sunset the longest aside from Princess Celestia so, make of that what you will!

Vermin could kick the Bone Hydra's many asses. Or singular ass

G: “Would you jump into the mouth of a basilisk if all your friends did?” T: “Well, if they got out and the basilisk spit did wonders for their general complexion and confidence, then yeah I guess I would.” An exchange between Gloriosa and Timber, I presume

That horse statue could be the real cause of everyone's problems all along

Amusing somebody who actually knows what they're talking about is the highest honour. That's also fabulously interesting, to think about what makes a place significant - in magical terms or otherwise!

"Well she didn’t really mention much of the shakes since around the time Twilight came out, save for when Timber went in." You're right! Sunset did stop shaking as much after she did some breathing and held her girlfriend's hand. Don't let her try to convince you she ain't soft

Nothing concerning here, nope!

And yes, can confirm, her body language was absolutely because she subconsciously missed having a hand to hold. I feel like we may have chatted about this once but Sunset's love language might be touch - which only makes the fact that her powers are dependent on touch that much more significant

Rarity would absolutely make her something warm and fabulous! Applejack has made Rarity more practical over the years. And yeah, Sunset's leather jacket is like her security blanket. Just looks a lot cooler than walking around high school with a blankie

I feel like Solstice does a good job putting people at ease, yeah - he's been afraid for a long time! He wouldn't want that for them! But he definitely doesn't go to church. He used to worry he would burn in there until proven otherwise, but he's still not fond

As I may have said in the sports chapter - I went to a sports high school. I'm roasting sports schools out of love

"Combining the concerned pseudo-parent and rebellious teenager is a recipe for a glorious disaster named Sombra" He's got many sides to him! Protective Dad and terrifying monster could in fact be the same side

"Just like 'mom' used to make~" Aww, yeah - they had a private chef staff for most everything else, but the Princess brewed Sunset teas herself

Solstice has so many opinions about beverages!!

"I anticipate foreshadowing here." Me? Never.....

Okay, 1) Who says you're not Marvel Prime? I might be Marvel Beta! 2) Why, yes, it is good to know about immediate danger :D for reasons!

Bevin made some cool ass choices with the art, yeah!! Very noir!

"I’ll admit I don’t know what that thing is in the right side of the first pic and left side of the second pic." You're seeing a shot-reverse-shot. That's the other person's arm!

"Can’t take this fore-shadow-ing." :D

"Solstice is no longer acting. He’s never had the chance to actually be his true self until an opportunity like this presented itself." Damn, well-said! Exceedingly true!!

End of part I indeed!! The fact that chapter 11 needed to be split in 2 delights me - we've only just begun!

EftD Chapter 11 – The Devil in Canterlot High Part 1

I’d just like to say. What the fuck.

Also, this commentary in particular had me doublebacking a lot, so I’m doing it acknowledging that I know the Chapter's end. Also I’m remembering so many actual terms for the literary devices used but alas, I’ll leave the accuracy be for the time being. Also I decided to break this one up so it’s not the tumblr equivalent of 17 Word Doc pages in a row.

Sunset Shimmer shivered from head to toe and couldn’t hide it even if she tried. And she tried. If she could at all avoid her friends seeing her like this, she would. It came in spasmodic spurts, with only seconds of control in between, starting from her legs or arms and rocking up to her core. She took in shallow, longing-to-be-deep breaths to steady herself, but, as if to rebel against her, her body didn’t listen.

First off, great start really sets the mood for the rest of the time Sunset’s going to be here. Absolutely dead-on with how it goes. The start and end of this chapter is mirrored. It’s right there in the title card. The big twist, I just didn’t see it. Even more obvious since we haven’t been seeing Sunset without something filtering her true feelings and self! But now, right there with that paragraph and the end of that first sentence – her body is rebelling against her, it didn’t listen. It can’t listen because it’s under Sombra’s control. Or soon will be.

It made her love them for trying—seriously, on a level she’d only thought possible recently—

AH!

Time spent with her favourite boys - even in totally-not-really-therapy-wink-wink - is working!

“... and I guess, I dunno, I just want to help so bad…”

GOODEST OF BOYS

He’s good. I think we’ll finally have this solved.”

I initially read this as “He’s good at being a therapist”, but I also like seeing how it could be interpreted as “He’s just genuinely a good guy”, which he is!

Flash stared at her for a second, the reels rewinding in his head almost so viscerally she could hear the sputtered squeal, and then he smiled. “Oh. I got third. They stumped me on the word castling because I thought it had an e in there somewhere, but I was super proud I could be so brave. My dad took me out for ice cream afterwards.”

A cutie mark origin story if there was one for this Flash! And just another thing to note. Even though Sunset genuinely seems cold, it’s also symbolic of her fear.

Sometimes the Princess would even let her sit on the throne.

;~;

Flash took that as a permission slip to start monologuing aloud about tactical breathing: in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4. Of course, the music nerd in him counted it out like a 2/4 time signature. He even performed a demonstration of what that might look like, breathing to a beat of his own making.

Ngl, a while back I started reading this chapter. Then some shit happened, and I had to drive alone for 2 hours. It was a very emotional drive, and my adrenaline had me much more awake than I needed, but my mind came back to this bit. Kept me calm and kept my driving safe. Thank you for this <3.

Sunset let him. She thought she’d managed this breathing thing pretty well on her own all these years, she didn’t need a How to Guide. While the shakes didn’t stop entirely, she managed to calm them down to a level she hoped wouldn’t be perceptible.

I’m glad Sunset did let him, instead of saying to his face that she didn’t need a how-to guide. They both sorta understand each other in this way. Flash literally just said he wants to help so bad, but Sunset also didn’t want to be perceived as not being okay. Much more didn’t want anyone to say it out loud. So, he’s helping by telling her how to breathe when you have nerves but not pointing out directly that she seems nervous. Saying things out loud just hits so much harder. Guess that’s part of the point of therapy!

The door hung open after her like the toothy maw of a basilisk salivating strands of venom and ready to devour a fresh victim whole.

Speaking of perception… she’s really not perceiving this as a good thing lol. Cold shaking, shaking in fear like a helpless little mouse. And an actual mouse. NOT a ‘Tiny Vermin’. There’s a reason that boss is up a level after the Bone Hydra.

And Sunset would have been happy to continue staring off into the middle-distance, unreachable, but then, Timber Spruce slapped his hands on his knees, got up from his chair, and said, “You know what? Why not? Let’s get magical. I’ve got a few things to say.”

Sunset looked up then to see Timber send her a tired smirk before disappearing.

Absolute shocker. And absolutely love the way Timber went about this. Sometimes you just gotta dive right into the deep end to get used to the water. And of course, seeing all your friends jump in and then come out fine and in a good mood and the like, and you’re all that more likely to cave to the pressure. Timber especially so since he likes to also feel part of the Rainbooms.

“Would you jump into the mouth of a basilisk if all your friends did?”

“Well, if they got out and the basilisk spit did wonders for their general complexion and confidence, then yeah I guess I would.”

What would he say about her in there? What were they talking about? Closing the portal won’t take long. Ray and Scruffles need me to bring them, I’d have to get them first. If I close the portal, is that it? Could anyone open it again? Would the connection be severed? Would the crack in the sky disappear? What happens here when it’s gone?

She’s still on that?! Not even her girlfriend could convince her otherwise?!

Sunset knew with a cold certainty from her lectures and studies on the Roots of Magic that there was always a source. An origin, a cause.

I do not like that this certainty in particular is cold. Especially not with all the other ‘cold’ things going on. Also, I bet the origin is that damn horse statue in front of City Hall!

…(similar to the human economy, Sunset Shimmer understood little to nothing of human geography—and now she likely never would) ...

As a human geographer who also happens to be human, I find this very humourous. I do NOT recommend searching what I mean, it’s a rabbit hole of confusion and questioning as to geography’s place in academia (but fuck almost all of those Ivy League Universities, you know what university DOES include Geography among one of its VERY FEW master’s and doctorate programs? THE UNITED NATIONS UNIVERSITY! Guess actually helping people across the world through an interdisciplinary approach towards natural disasters under a changing climate isn't top of mind for them. Yes I'm bitter.)

Also would be funny if Sunset pursued geography as a result of going to NR (which apparently was important to military officer training in WW2).

This also makes the idea of “significant places of sorcery and love” especially interesting to me as a human geographer. We look into the human relationship with space, which we end up calling “place’. We assign value to it when we have this relationship, including emotional value. But these places can have different identities and values depending on the who its relating to.

What goes into those places of sorcery and love? If we think back to the Perfect Pear in the pony episodes, that is an example of assigning emotional value to a place. A place of love, where sorcery emerged, where these powerful interactions of two lovers, forbidden to be with each other but still so committed to being there anyway that they develop a place that was unique to them. But is there any place we’ve seen that could be classified as such in the human realm? Nightfall Reach certainly seems old, perhaps old enough to be classified so. And with Friendship being a core tenet, maybe there’s something there.

There’s likely something around Canterlot High, and that statue. Clearly the statue itself is imbued with magic. But did anything with strong enough love or sorcery exist in that space before the school did? Did it have to? So many relationships made, broken, by so many students coming in and out of that place, connected to a mirror. What other value might have been assigned here, and by whom?

In a small, cold place, she almost found herself excited for them. You go, girls. You’re going to be amazing.

OOF

She didn’t so much as say a word to her girlfriend or Flash before Timber appeared in front of her, hand outstretched.

Damn, I can’t even imagine what Twilight must be thinking after all that. It’s even worse knowing the first conversation after this will be through Sombra.

Sunset flinched and looked to her girlfriend, who sat beside her and, at some point, had taken Sunset’s hand, maybe to steady it. The little circles she revolved with her thumb stopped short.

Awwwwww!

Well she didn’t really mention much of the shakes since around the time Twilight came out, save for when Timber went in.

Solstice emerged from the office and his eyes billowed a ghastly gas-like steam. The crackle of it startled Flash in particular who ripped out of his seat, but neither Twilight nor Timber reacted.

Okay so, a bit of a development! Totally not at all concerning. Also totally not concerning that Twi and Tim are not concerned. sweats

Solstice waited for her like the ferryman at the perilous banks of the River Styx, lantern and steady smile at the ready.

Mouth of Styx starts playing

Sunset walking into hell, to face Hades himself.

Heart walloping against the confines of her ribcage, Sunset had to admit comfortable sounded so nice. Trying to stabilize one of her clammy hands with its partner, she nodded, mumbling, “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Wow, really missing Twi’s hand, huh?

That made him smile, teeth pale like a full-moon in the shadow of night. Combined with his still demonically slitted eyes, Sunset fought the thought that Solstice looked almost animalistic and focused instead on the gentleness of his voice. “You can zip up your jacket, my dear, I don’t want you to freeze.”

Aaaahhh! Very werewolf-like. Indeed. I can see it be an apt metaphor for Solstice and his condition. The style and grace of the Sombra persona feeling more like a vampire, but the challenge of having something deep inside of you changing and turning you into a monster is something all too familiar for Sunset. The human realm has its own myths and legends, but she likely experienced so many of those myths made real back in Equestria. And, having dressed up like one for Halloween partly being the reason for her perceiving him this way. Or maybe its more of a Jekyll and Hyde thing.

“Tcht. No, see, I’d be offended. It’s kind of my look, so...” She gestured down to her open leather jacket in open rebellion.

Sunset’s willing to freeze before changing her look? Rarity will be so proud. Or disappointed since she could probably make it still warm while being fashionable.

Still, it’s a nice touch – Sunset’s here in her first counselling appointment, where it’s supposed to be a safe space to let yourself be comfortable enough to be honest with yourself and your feelings and the like. Where you can take off that figurative armour, literal in the case of Sunset and her rebellious identity, also being rebellious to the idea of counselling.

“Oh! Yes, that has to be frightfully frigid.”

I don’t like the implied tone here. Yes, the weather inside is frightful, but the other side of Sombra is so very much ALSO frightful. Maybe though, the fire inside that Solstice sets for the students’ souls will be so delightful.

She drank him in in full. It helped her own nerves to see the big bad opponent she was up against wore loafers like he was late for church service, wore his button-down not quite tucked into his belted slacks, and smelled like a coffee shop if it also used a wood stove. “Huh. You actually can’t feel cold?”

The BIG BAD… Churchgoer? More like wolf in sheep’s clothing. With Solstice being like that, it must’ve done both Flash and Timber a lot of good. A safe haven in a cold cold blizzard who emanates the woodsy-ness the latter likes, but speaks so very kindly, as the former would appreciate.

“Heaven knows the central heating could use an upgrade with me around to challenge it, but well. Public school.”

Okay so they can afford the special sports stuff but not heating?! I well… yeah no, that tracks.

But Solstice caught that. “Really, are you sure about your jacket? I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold in my office, I’d never forgive myself.” Sunset’s eyes went for a spin. “Think I’ll find a way to survive your office.”

laughing nervously

Solstice paused long enough to stare at her jacket’s zipper, as if tempted to zip it up himself. If he had telepathy or the sheer force of will, all bets might have been off. With the steam still billowing off his demonic eyes, he looked much angrier about it than he probably actually was. Or maybe it really did vex him that much, Sunset couldn’t say.

Combining the concerned pseudo-parent and rebellious teenager is a recipe for a glorious disaster named Sombra as he feeds on the anger from feeling a lack of control (or what I thought was anger, but is actually fear for her well-being).

Either way, he moved toward the kettle and basket of cookies. “Alright, it’s your decision. But speaking of dire choices: Can I at least get you anything? A hot beverage to keep warm?

Nothing like a hot beverage! Although I think that there should be a better word to define hot beverages than just “hot beverage”. I’ve been trying to get “café drinks” going here and there, but in this day and age? That can mean anything.

Sunset doubted the school counsellor would readily give her access to the type of beverage she really wanted to get through this. Fire down the throat always kept her warm, in a manner of speaking (especially if it was Nectar of the Gods, Sunset’s favourite Equestrian liquor; she’d never forget sneaking her first taste from the pools of Mount Olympus while on diplomatic missions with the Princess. Good times). She shifted on the plump couch cushion. “Tea’s good, if you have any. Camelmile?”

Who wouldn't want some Nectar of the Gods? I'm sure there'll be some at the coronation.

Whenever Sunset had an upset stomach⁠—her codeword for nervousness or feeling upset, honestly⁠—as a filly, Princess Celestia brewed her excellent tea. Trottingham chai, Zebrafrican rooibos, even a nice Griffonstonian oolong after a long day. It got to the point the sound of the kettle boiling in the hearth was enough to ease any irritation.

Just like 'mom' used to make~

Nodding, Solstice smiled around his own shoulder, back at her, setting up the mugs, not unlike a bartender.

Ah yes, the bartender, discount therapist!

His little wooden stirring stick whisked the cup in an erratic fashion. “Warping the minds of the youth with their overpriced... cake coffee. Oh, it sounds delicious, but what you’ve really gone and done is ruined a perfectly good pot of coffee and convinced swarms of innocent teenagers they’ve bought themselves a luxury item!”

He grumbled more into his own mug as he sipped to avoid an overflow before realizing; he swallowed his mutterings down with his coffee. “I have… a lot of feelings about beverages. Wine especially. But I suppose the point was that it’s nice to know I’m not the only ex-career student here.”

Recently I’ve come to appreciate whisky. I enjoyed it before, sure, but now I understand that among the connoisseurs, the best whisky is the one you like, and that includes whiskey ;)

But that does bring me to another observation – Sunset mentioned alcohol in her head before Solstice said it out loud. Foreshadowing about getting in her head? Or is it another point about how much they actually have in common?

It’s wild seeing how much coffee has really taken off though. I see a lot of similarities between wine and coffee connoisseurs. The sheer difference in variety of tastes based on where it’s grown and the conditions that gave rise to it – it’s terroir - and how it’s processed or even what you add to it in each minuscule amount.

Each student technically is a product of their own terroir. Even though the students are all different, they’re also similar in so many ways – that’s why they can empathize with each other despite those different experiences. But of course, with a unique terroir, it’ll get harder and harder to have an accurate read on knowing how someone else is feeling. As a geographer once said, "everything is related to everything else, but near things are more related than distant things." People who grew up in one place have much more in common than someone from a different place depending on what's available to them: the culture there, foods available, cost of things in the community, etc. But the processing of the coffee bean or the wine changes that too! As it goes through its life cycle, it started out somewhere, like all its neighbours, but slowly changed along the way as new experiences shaped it, and shaped the person.

And that’s why its important for someone like Solstice to be there. He talks to them and gets into the finer notes and details of people, even with the added sugar. His comment about cake coffee makes me believe he dislikes it because he dislikes how the uniqueness of each cup getting drowned out and taken away by fads among teens, making it harder for them to be open and honest with each other if all they're concerned with is the fad. Cause if you're not open and honest, how can you have an open and honest relationship with one another? With Sunset’s “look”, she’s dressed up like a mocha and refuses to let him or anyone else really know the core of what’s there. All that sugar added drowns out what makes everyone unique and beautiful in their own way. Unless you're a coffee connoisseur among coffee connoisseurs.

That and he's worried about them being manipulated.

“That’s true. I apologize. I don’t know. Call it an educated guess, then,” he told her, carrying over her mug. “Maturity is usually hard-won, much like degrees and education. Or forgiveness.” Solstice offered a smile as he gave her the drink. “Your friends speak very highly of you, Sunset. Your story is something of a legend around here. You are.”

Well at least Sunset has the forgiveness thing under her belt. The former she could get no problem! Just gotta figure out what that will be.

 “…I don’t do well with heights, not a fan.”

I anticipate foreshadowing here.

Would it be dramatic to say I’ve got a fear phobia? Sunset thought. “I’ve got a fear phobia. Only thing I fear is fear itself, you know? So if you’re wondering about your eyes, it’s cool, don’t worry about it. I’m not afraid of you.”

Sombra likes to be dramatic and uses fear as his primary weapon. If he’s not fear itself, then I don’t know what is for ya, Sunny.

“I’ll do my best to help you achieve that, then.” Solstice handed her a waiver of some sort, complete with clipboard and pen. “Everything you say here is completely confidential. The only exceptions to that are if I’m required to disclose case-relevant details in a court of law, or, and this is important, if you pose an immediate danger to yourself or others. At which point, I would contact the proper authorities for safety reasons.”

…

The authorities? Celestia, Flash’s dad would kill me if he knew I planned to leave Flash behind again. If Chief Magnus murders me, Flash might find out I’m leaving and try to stop me. “No.”

Including this part so specifically, leads me to believe the reason is twofold:

1. Our most glorious author, Marvel Prime, is presenting the reader with an accurate portrayal of the processes of going to therapy, based on her own knowledge and experience. This in turn, is also useful to anyone reading this in terms of knowing what to expect if they go in.

2. Foreshadowing. The callback back to good ol Detective Daddy-o, Flash Magnus, who probably has a case on her, and just needs a little bit more to bring it to court. The other element of “this is important”, is not just for her, but for the reader to remember. Because she gets body swapped again, she will ultimately pose said immediate danger to herself and others. Also, who knows if “proper authorities” can actually mean Princess Twilight and the crew bringing in some magic-ass kickin’. Seems like the proper authority to me.

Not that she had any plans on re-terrorizing the school or putting everyone’s lives in danger, but Sunset could almost hear the cell-doors clanking shut in front of her.

Wonderfully brought together with the art right in this section too! The shadow of the blinds making it look all too much like cell-doors. Signing her name? Signing her confession…. DUN DUN DUUUN.

“Oh-ho, no. Nope. We’re not doing this, no,” Sunset said, arms barred across her chest like a luxurious stay at the Tartarus Juvenile Detention Centre. “I’m not here to talk about me, I’m here to help my friends change back.”

And prison references continue! It all comes back together. All the Greek mythology references, combined with the justice system, coming together into that – the Tartarus Juvenile Detention Centre being the reason for the references and how this all feels, that she’s ultimately a bad friend and bad person, even if she’s not going to terrorize the school again not that she’ll have any say in that though. But also this whole thing could just be in of itself another way to foreshadow just that. Either way, she’s venturing through Hades to save her friends, but is willing to stay there if it means making things right.

Y’know it also kinda feels like Solstice is gonna pull out the ol’ Rorschach tests.

“Tell me what you see?”

Sunset proceeds to see either her kissing Twi, her strangling Timber, or Celestia disappointed in her.

Arms crossed. Sunset took in air just to sigh it back out like sand dragged back into the sea.

AND IT STILL MAKES YOUR FEET GRAINY. THERE’S ALWAYS A LIL BIT LEFT BEHIND IN YOUR SANDAL.

And a stop to say it’s lovely seeing this second picture right after. Solstice just across from the ‘imprisoned’ Sunset, showing the source of the cell-door imagery. Again, I’m no artist, but I feel like there’s a number of contrasts and comparisons to be seen here.

First, I’ll admit I don’t know what that thing is in the right side of the first pic and left side of the second pic. BUT It does connect the two – the way its coloured and the angle it’s on.

Second, the difference in line styling with each picture – the one feat. Sunset is softer, more rounded, wavy, especially when the shadow-prison-bars hit Sunset herself. Notably, the only parts of Solstice that are rounded are the two that are most influenced by Sombra.

Third, the way these two come together. It’s literally shadow prison bars. AND that’s what curves around Sunset. Her tea’s steam curves and is reminiscent of her hair, but curves towards Solstice. The parts of Solstice influenced by Sombra are his hair and his breath. They’re mimicking her – again a sort of foreshadowing, and also almost soul-like (yes I'm thinking Danny Phantom). Oh yeah also it’s like, half his face literally covered in shadow too. But not just any shadow, a shadow that reflects the Yin-Yang symbol – the darkness in the light, and the light in the darkness.

“Yes, precisely!” He leaned forward to the edge of his seat. “But the exact effect is dependent on you! Anyone can feel love for their friends, or joy, anger, fear—really, I believe you’re right, the intensity of your emotions correlates to the intensity of your magic. But if the power comes from you directly, it’s also my belief that exactly how it manifests is related to your individual psychology. Who you are, what those emotions mean to you personally.”

Okay, don’t like how he ended on fear there. Can’t take this fore-shadow-ing.

If Solstice’s individual personality affects how his magic manifests, does that mean his initial fear, perhaps fear of his father, helped make it what it is now? Would his guilt manifest differently, since that seems to be strong with him? Or maybe guilt is simply the aftermath of fear having been realized.

A stupid giggle bubbled to the surface. “I’ve had theories for years,” Solstice near-squealed, his eyes flickering back to their regular green, if only momentarily, and back again. “It wasn’t until I came here to help you students that I had any way of observing other samples besides myself! And the most marvelous part is I may have guided the students towards the answers, but they’re the ones to figure it out! And now they can learn to harness those powers for good! Emotional therapy meets magical theory!”

And here we see an example of it all playing out. Sunset mentioned acting as your true self as a form of creating strong emotions – and Solstice is no longer acting. He’s never had the chance to actually be his true self until an opportunity like this presented itself. He’s always had to act on stage, act a certain way in front of his dad, find this niche interest and be unable to share it, and he’s had to act like everything’s okay in order to not induce anxiety in anyone else, which would make him feel worse. He’s had to filter and mute himself. And thus, him acting as his true self allows him to regain control of his whole, true self back from Sombra. Allows him to be powered by magic through something stronger than fear. For now.

And that's the end of Part 1 of this chapter's commentary!

[presidentbungus]

@aprofessionalwithoutstandards medieval swordvan post crawling through my head like worms. I wrote this in like 20 minutes. there WILL be more. it’s 10 o clock I have been in an airport since 4 am I have not proofread this among us among us among us among us among us

I don’t feel like it’s “medieval“ enough but that’s ok. I will simplt have to write more to fix it😔

“I can tell you’re following me, y’ken.”

There’s no real response, so Tavish takes the quiet rustle of the grass as one.

“It can’t keep being a coincidence that every time I’m somewhere sticky a lad ends up with an arrow in his face.”

Somewhere, a bird sings.

Tavish sighs. He could leave it be. But who would he be if he did that sort of thing? “So you know you’re supposin’ that everywhere I go there’s just a random, different archer that always gets there through mysterious means, and every time he just happens to seem to be gone ‘fore I get the chance to find him and maybe, say, thank him for saving my life… maybe in the form of, say, valuables…”

He knows for a fact he hears something rustle in the tree-layer running by the path. He decides it’ll come out on its own if it wants to.

“Okay maybe that was stupid—but still. What’s got you so scared to come on out, Sharpshot? I’m a man of honor, I ain’t gonna kill ye or steal your things or anything like that if that’s what you’re worried about.”

A voice arises from the bushes, rough and heavy and cut through with some sort of accent Tavish doesn’t feel like placing: “It’s not that.”

He smiles, looks to the right. A shadow disturbs the underbrush, seemingly purposefully avoiding the sunlight. There we go. “Well, tell me then, oh mysterious archer. What is it?”

“I’m, uh…” Rustling. “It’s… stupid. I’m sorry. I’ll stop followin’ you.”

“Aw, don’t do that. I’d miss ye. Just tell me, really. I promise I won’t laugh.”

“It’s… I’m… I’m worried you’re not gonna like me.”

Tavish breaks his promise, and he chuckles entirely involuntarily, he hears a squeak come from the bushes. “Oh, lord, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.“

“… I think I’m going to go now.”

“No—no, for heaven’s sakes. How many times do I have to say don’t leave? Don’t leave. You’re awful worried about what I think, huh.”

No response, except more rustling.

“Well don’t be. If it makes you feel any better, I think I’m startin’ to like ye already.”

“… Really?”

“Ooh, yea. Quite a bit, I have to say. You got a pony, lad?”

“No one’s ever said they liked me before.”

Tavish pulls his horse to a stop, snorting. “You’re a special one, ain’t ye?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Hm. Come on out, I wanna see ye.”

“… You’ll think I’m ugly.”

Tavish raises an eyebrow. “Have you looked at me recently, Sharpshot? Get out here. I promise I’ll be nice.”

“Last time you promised you wouldn’t laugh you laughed at me.”

“Was out of a place of love.”

He pauses for a very long time. “Don’t laugh at me please.”

To Tavish’s credit, he doesn’t. It’s a little hard when what looks to be a stick with mange clambers out of the bushes, back-length hair basically clinging to his face, every part of his body covered in mud. A bow lays slung from his back, along with a few pouches placed at intervals over his body. One has to wonder when was the last time he tossed a spare glance at a bathtub. “I’m not sure what I expected,” Tavish says. “Have you ever bathed before, by chance?”

“… I’m sorry. Wasn’t expectin’, uh… company.”

“Well, we can fix that. Where ye headed, Sharpshot?”

“Nowhere.”

“A wandering type, eh? I respect it. Any particular reason my path was the one you went with?”

“Uh,” he says, “um. Pure coincidence.”

Tavish raises an eyebrow, but decides to let the beast slumber and doesn’t touch on it. “Well, you got anywhere ta go?”

“… No.”

Like a scared little kitten, who’s also a wee little kid bein’ scolded for breaking Mum’s favorite battleaxe. Tavish can’t just leave him here. “Well that’s good cause I don’t wanna hafta leave you,” he says, and he laughs and the archer laughs too a little bit and it doesn’t sound like he really does that much, and Tavish smiles. “I assume we can take a bit of a walk, then, if you have nowhere to be?”

He looks a bit dreamy, maybe. “Um… sure.”

“Well, good. You got any stuff ye need to get?”

“… I don’t own anything.”

“You have a bow.”

“I have a bow.”

“Is that it?”

“I have other things but they don’t matter.”

Tavish shakes his head, laughing. “What kind of other things?”

“… I don’t know.”

“What about booze? Ye got booze?”

Sharpshot’s eyes widen, like he wasn’t expecting this question, and then he smiles—imagine that—and he appears a sizable bottle of something out of, apparently, nowhere, and Tavish oohs. “Um. D’ya like moonshine?”

“Ohhh where’d ya get that pretty little thing?”

“Family recipe,” he mutters, stars twinkling in his eyes.

Tavish knows he shouldn’t be taking random drinks from random strangers on the road but he almost can’t believe this guy could hurt somebody. He takes the bottle, takes a swig—oh. Goes down like fire. “Och,” he says, and he laughs for awhile. “Sharpshot I can tell we’re gonna be very good friends.”

“Really?”

“… Really.“

Even not looking down at him, Tavish can feel static—energy—radiating off his skin. He probably doesn’t do this much, does he?

“Ya got a name, Sharpshot?”

“… I like Sharpshot… it’s nice.”

“Aye, fair enough. I’m the Red Knight, Chosen Defender of the Highlands and Mercenary for Hire and Amateur Mixologist, but why don’t you just call me Tavish.”

“Okay, Tavish.”