#initial pitch and planned from the start kind of confirmed that

[sonknuxadow]

i am a huge supporter of no romance in sonic whatsoever because 1. pre reboot archie sonic shows exactly what can happen when sonic writers are allowed to pair up whoever they want and write romance focused stories and it was Absolute Torture and 2. heavy focus on romance just feels REALLY out of place for sonic. friendship and family should be the main focus always in terms of character relationships. however i think tangle and whisper should be allowed to be a couple for real. the solution here is to just keep everything the same as it was before except randomly have tangle start calling whisper her girlfriend with no explanation the next time they show up

[kyluxtrashpit]

Transferring this post from twitter, with some edits and additions, because the mess that was the development of the sequel trilogy fascinates me on an extremely deep level

Okay so. You’re probably aware that Adam Driver gave an interview a few weeks ago where he said that the original plan for Kylo in the sequel trilogy was to get progressively eviler throughout. Which I’m not here for redemption vs corruption arc discourse, that’s not what this post is (because I prefer a secret third option), and what I want to dig into here is what makes this an incredibly curious statement

Because this is the first time anyone involved with the ST has mentioned there ever being a plan. So, let’s explore that for a second because why is he saying something that’s completely at odds with every other piece of information we have?

(behind a cut for length, as I went and pulled a bunch of interview quotes and other materials and then analyzed them, you can scroll to the very bottom for my conclusions if you like)

So first, I went and found this, which I purchased many many years ago in 2017

In it, an interview with RJ himself confirms what the story has been for a long time: there was no plan, there was no required plot points, no endgame to lead to, just absolute freedom (I recall reading this then and feeling a spark of confusion and concern - what do you mean there was no plan?) 

I also found this, and while I don’t have the TLJ art book to verify it, another person on twitter confirmed it and also advised that RJ was even in the know regarding the Aftermath series (confirmed by him and Chuck Wendig at a convention) - so he knew a lot. And this plus the above shows that if there was a plan, it was abandoned before TFA was even released, likely even before it finished filming

And then we have the rather well known moment when JJ himself pretty much confirmed that the ST should have had a plan (question asked was about sw, even if JJ didn’t say it himself). Could this be shade at abandoning a plan instead of never having one? Maybe. But it’s unclear 

And as our last piece of evidence, we have confirmation from RJ that he asked JJ to change the ending of TFA. Which once again shows TFA was not finished when RJ, who explicitly said he was given no plan to follow, was writing TLJ

And that was the story all along, confirmed multiple times over. We can say for sure that as of the writing for TLJ being started, which was before TFA was even finished, let alone released, there was no plan. So it is certain that if there ever was a plan, that plan was abandoned at the very latest in early 2015, but I suspect 2014 is more likely

So why would AD say there ever was one? He has no reason to lie and I don’t think he is, he has nothing to gain and everything to lose by doing so. But with so many other pieces of evidence directly contradicting what he’s saying, I think we can also say that RJ is telling the truth too. But how can both be true?

Well, knowing the mess that is d/lf and also how disney treats actors I think it’s one of two possibilities:

Option 1: there was indeed a plan, likely pitched by JJ himself, and that d/lf agreed to that plan with no intention of ever following it through. They sold the actors on the plan, telling them it was a capital P Plan, but then didn’t ever tell them it had stopped being the plan, so that’s also why we saw the actors becoming increasingly frustrated throughout the series. They were told there was a plan, what the plan was, and then watched none of that come to fruition because it had secretly been abandoned long ago without their knowledge. It’s extremely scummy, but I could see disney doing it

Option 2: the plan was never a firm capital P Plan but rather was just the initial concept JJ had. No one ever committed to it, but since the actors couldn’t see the script, JJ’s initial vision was used as a “here’s my concept” kind of thing to sell the actors on without it being a firm plan. Just a concept that was used at the time but later discarded, as I’m sure a good number of concepts were. But it would be easy for that to get misinterpreted by the actors, and this gives us the less scummy option on the mouse’s part because it’s more about miscommunication than anything else

And if it is option 2, it’s also possible that the actors did know it wasn’t an confirmed plan, just a concept, but clung to those concepts since they were all they had. Which I can understand, given that not knowing the eventual story makes their jobs harder. I can totally see AD sticking with that initial concept even if he knew it wasn’t a “plan” per se, because he had literally nothing else to go on and he needed something to play the role. And once again, given how increasingly frustrated the cast got over the course of the trilogy, I suspect this experience would have been shared among the whole cast

Overall, I lean towards option 2 on this, because even though I do think disney is pretty fucking evil, option 1 might actually be a contract violation or at least open up the possibility of one. And plus, the entire story group would have had to be in on it, and if they did straight up knowingly lie to the entire cast and JJ, I just feel like that would be something which that many people can’t keep secret (plus wouldn’t RJ have accidentally spilled the beans when talking to JJ? Or was he in on it too? Too many players imo). I know it’s disney, but still, things leak all the time (as those of us who followed the tfa or tros leaks know lmao). Plus, I do agree with the adage of assuming stupidity over overt malice when in doubt, so I’m going to stick with that here

So ultimately, my suspicion is this was never a true, capital P, confirmed Plan, but rather the initial concept they used in place of a real plan (which they never made) because d/lf had nothing else to use to sell the actors on it and the actors had nothing else to cling to when actually playing the characters, so they used it where they needed gaps filled. And with it being more likely just a vague concept that was never committed to and was abandoned in 2014 than anything else, well, no matter how good or bad it might have been, I don’t even think it’s worth considering as something we ever would have gotten. It clearly wasn’t in the stars (ha) from very early on and thus belongs in the pile with the rest of the surely very numerous concepts that never came to fruition

And this, kids, is why trilogies need to be fucking planned lmfao

[kryzelle-gayle-mendoza2022]

BUSINESS VENTURE PROPOSAL

Which of the students' typical issues at Central Mindanao University haven't yet been resolved? Lack of food, however our initial focus was on the University Hospital and CMU-CON because there aren't any nearby markets or food stalls.

We spent a lot of time preparing for our first business pitch in the third week since we were afraid of being rejected. We were really nervous as we made our way to the panelists' seats to deliver our business proposal regarding what Dahon-Dahon lang is. We hold meetings almost every day to discuss our plans and to pay attention to even the smallest aspects, such costs, suppliers, and how to reach the target market, among other things.

To give brief summary:

Our business Dahon-dahon Lang speaks consistency, convenience, versatility and quality, we come up with the idea of why not bringing food to those people instead, thus we had created “Dahon-Dahon lang”. "Dahon-Dahon Lang" aims to provide healthy, eco-friendly, easily-accessible fast-food of variety, within the area of the College of Nursing in Central Mindanao University but we will expand our business sooner to other colleges. "Dahon-Dahon Lang" could be the means to satiate the students of the University by offering various healthy on-the-go leaf-wrapped foods, aiming to go zero waste by means of no plastic use. To minimize their finances, time, and effort spent on their food, we will bring food to them. Fine food to dine in anytime!

Since we were among the students who actually dealt with the issue, we entrepreneurs offered our plan with the intention of providing assistance in addition to our desire to generate revenue. We had a lot of questions after our presentation, and the panelists' suggestions greatly aided the preparation of our final presentation. Knowing that we succeeded and can carry on with our business makes us very happy.

LECTURE SERIES

At the Entrepreneurs Lecture Series, we heard from speakers a lot of learnings as they discuss their achievements, setbacks, and any lessons they've picked up along the road. As we launch our firm and advance our profession, it is a fantastic chance to network and get advice.

What I've learned during the lecture series are as follows:

-As answer to the need of increasing entrepreneurship in society, citizens should be trained to start companies from Iklaq Sidhu.

-The three university generations, each with its own goals, as well as the two academic revolutions, each with its own distinctive traits. The traits that set different generations of universities apart demonstrate how their missions are expanded in line with social, economic, and political developments, confirming the close connection that exists between these institutions and society. To put it another way, the first generation of universities was founded with the intention of sharing knowledge; the second generation focused on using research to acquire, transmit, and integrate new knowledge; and the third generation gathered economic and social advancements with the goal of transferring knowledge to already established missions.

-The Guerrero-Cano approach is used to categorize elements as formal or informal. The university's governance and organizational structure, its policies supporting startups, and its entrepreneurship education programs are all considered "formal elements." Separately, "informal elements" include attitudes toward entrepreneurship in universities, models, instances, entrepreneurial courses in universities, and reward structures in universities. The model also incorporates the connection between the teaching mission, which addresses the educational perspective of preparing a graduate to be both a job seeker and a job creator, and for which the mission's end result correlates to the spin-off generation or new businesses created by students.

-People, start-ups in different stages, and different kinds of organizations come together in one place to form a start-up ecosystem, which serves as a system for developing new start-up businesses.

-REPUBLIC ACT No. 11337

An Act Providing Benefits and Programs to Strengthen, Promote and Develop the Philippine Startup Ecosystem-For businesses to expand and engage in new endeavors, they need to raise finance. Companies can raise money in three different ways: through retained earnings, borrowed capital, and equity capital. Companies that use retained earnings have no debt to their shareholders but can anticipate higher profits.

For my third blog post, I believe this is all I can say. I'll see you at the next one!

[violet-shadows]

What are we waiting for? (Part Two)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Summary: Azriel has never been very good at talking about his feelings and his mate is no different. When both make assumptions about the other’s intentions, heartbreak and miscommunication ensue.

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: alcohol use, sad boi Azriel

A/N: Part three is out now. As always feedback is appreciated beyond measure. Love ya! 

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰ 

 Azriel’s mind was reeling. He knew the conversation would have to happen at some point, but he had selfishly hoped that perhaps, given enough time, he could change your mind. He hadn’t expected you to run off when the other shoe dropped though and wondered bitterly if it was guilt or resentment that drove you to flee the River House. He considered following you and getting it over with, but the devastation on your face as you left gave him pause. He wondered if you had just now realized you wouldn’t be able to give yourself over to him. Was it something he did that night? At dinner the evening before? Or had you wanted to reject him from the start and, in all your kindness and empathy, felt bad enough to entertain him. He decided, then, that he couldn’t face knowing the answer yet and resigned to leave you be.

When he explained himself to Cassian, his brother had looked utterly bewildered. “Are you sure that’s—” Azriel took flight before he could finish his line of questioning and give him hope that he had misinterpreted your intentions. No, Azriel was a shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court, if there was one thing he could trust, it was his ability to read people.

So, he resisted the urge to seek you out, instead fleeing Velaris entirely. His original plan was to do some reconnaissance in the Autumn Court, his trust in Eris still minimal at best. Upon seeing the direction of his flight, however, Rhys reached out mind to mind and forbade it. “You’re too distracted to be on a mission right now.”

“Worried about me?” Azriel bit back, unusually sarcastic.

“Worried about whoever you run into, more like.” Rhys was only half joking and Azriel huffed, adjusting his course to head towards the mountains. Even he wasn’t sure of his ability to turn down a fight and use discretion at the moment, and, in the interest of maintaining peace in Prythian, he decided to divert to the cabin instead. He knew Rhys wouldn’t let him throw himself into work in a state like this, not when his job required such delicate handling. But he couldn’t stay in Velaris, in the townhouse or House of Wind where every shadow reminded him of what he almost had. Instead, he would retreat to the mountains until he gathered enough courage to face you.

Cassian showed up on the second day, bottle in hand, looking as close to remorseful as he had ever seen him. Initially, the shadowsinger remained stone-faced as the two gathered around the fireplace in morose silence, but after a few drinks, it all came tumbling out. He told Cassian about how he had hoped against hope you would choose to accept the bond. How he had put in so much effort to try and prove himself, taking you on dates, buying you flowers, observing you closely and noting your likes and dislikes. He thought, perhaps, he was making progress, but months passed, and you continued to skirt the issue of accepting the bond. The evening prior, when Cassian asked about a ceremony and you fled, had all but confirmed his suspicions. Cassian remained quiet throughout his story, helpfully pouring shots while his brother rambled, barely concealing his heartbreak. The only commentary he offered was towards the end of the night when Azriel was leaned back on the couch, eyes closed with eyelashes that almost looked damp in the firelight. “Are you sure?”, he asked cautiously, “Are you sure that’s why she left? That she doesn’t want the bond?”

Azriel let out a mirthless laugh and pitched forward, flaring out his wings for balance as he stumbled to his feet. “I’m the Spymaster,” his tone was dripping in sarcasm, “I’m sure.” He’d gone to bed after that, leaving Cassian to contemplate his brother’s words.

In the morning, Cassian was gone. He left a brief note in the kitchen warning Azriel that if he wasn’t back in Velaris in the next few days he was liable to get a visit from Rhysand and Feyre. Idly, he mused that he should be somewhat embarrassed at having run off tail tucked at the first sign of heartbreak, but he didn’t have the energy to criticize yet another one of his actions. As he thought of his family back in Velaris, he wondered if you had sought him out yet. Would you come and find him when he returned? Or would he have to drag himself to his own sentencing? The thought filled him with dread, and he clawed within himself for something other than the growing pit of despair. He wanted to be angry, to rage and roar at the injustice of it all, but where you were concerned, he could not harbor ill-will. No, in spite of it all, he did not have it in him to be angry with you, to blame you for your choice. He only wished you had told him sooner.

Itching for a distraction, he decided he would spend the day training in the hopes that exertion and aggression might drive his predicament from his mind. The forest was not a training ring, but Azriel could make do with trees and stone. The day was unseasonably warm, and by the afternoon his knuckles were bruised and bleeding and he was dripping with sweat. He had shed his shirt and upper leathers hours prior, and he was contemplating losing his lower breaches and diving into the lake when movement overhead caught his eye. It was Cassian, swooping in from above, perhaps to supply him with more alcohol or drag him home. Or both.

He did a double take when he spotted the figure in Cassian’s arms and his heart began to pound. Surely, Cassian would have the decency to let him face you on his own terms. Had you asked to be brought here, or had he dragged you along, insisting you get it over with so his brother could return to the city? He expected Cassian to stay, ready to ferry you back once your conversation was finished, but by the time he reached the porch of the cabin, his brother was gone, leaving the two of you alone.

His breath caught at the sight of you and his shadows sprang to life. For the past few days, they had been muted, offering little to no company as if they, too, were avoiding Azriel. They surged forward and Azriel had to give a mighty tug to keep them from enveloping you. You hadn’t minded them before, even noting your fascination with his power, but that could have changed by now as well. He stood several paces away as the two of you locked eyes, fists clenching and unclenching in anxiety. You took several steps forward until you were within arm’s reach, and Azriel had to fight the instinct to close the gap between you two.

You opened your mouth, a pained expression on your face, and he sucked in a breath as if bracing for a blow. “I’m sorry… that I just left.” You started, your voice wavering. “I thought—Cassian said—,” despite rehearsing what you would say on the flight over, you found yourself stuttering over the words. Fear returned then, that perhaps Cassian was wrong and your initial assumption was right.

“It’s okay,” Azriel’s voice was rough and deep as ever and his dark eyes looked so sad you could have sobbed at the sight of him. “You don’t have to feel guilty. I just…” he turned then, his eyes fixing on some distant point in the mountains. “I just want you to be happy.”

Cassian was right. You did sob, then, and Azriel startled, turning to look at you with confusion on his face. “I thought you didn’t want the bond. I thought you realized that I could never measure up to you and were trying to figure out how to tell me.” Azriel’s eyes widened and he took a step towards you, hesitantly placing his hands on your shoulders as he searched your face for answers.

“How? Why would I ever want you to reject the bond?”, he asked, bewildered. “I thought you didn’t want it.” You laughed then, the absurdity of the miscommunication hitting you at the same time as the relief of finding out you were wrong.

“Of course, I want the bond! I thought that was obvious. I just didn’t want to pressure you—.” He cut you off then, his hands reaching up to cradle your face as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was slow and tender, an apology and celebration in one.

“You mean it?” He whispered, inching his face back from yours ever so slightly. His rough thumbs wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks and you smiled hesitantly.

“You want it too?”, you asked him, sounding small and he grinned, his own eyes beginning to shine, glinting in the fading afternoon sun.

“More than I’ve ever wanted anything else, Sunshine,” he kissed you again, then, slow and deep, his arms snaking around your waist to draw you closer to him. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the fact that he was shirtless, his skin slick with sweat. You lowered your arms from their place around his neck, dragging your hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest, then lower towards his defined stomach. The kiss grew hungrier as your arms moved and he lifted a hand to tangle in your hair, the other remaining securely around your waist. Just as it felt like he was ready to devour you, you pulled away, a sly look in your eye.

“So you want the bond… and I want the bond?” He nodded fervently; his eyes still fixed on your lips. “And it’s about dinnertime anyway…”, your heart hammered in your chest and his pupils dilated further, his gaze meeting yours. “Then what are we waiting for?”

⊱ —————— ❈  —————— ⊰

Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list for future fics. Click here to check out my other work.

[merymoonbeam]

In this post I’m gonna talk about why GA book being next doesn’t make sense with what Sarah had said about the books so far.

I’m adding this one big video and I will add the timeframes of the videos I’m referencing later in the post.

Video 1 (00:00 starting point)

I really wanted to tell not just this story about Nesta and Cassian but also I wanted to tell the story of all these other characters who were in the earlier books as kind of side characters

The books are about the characters from the og trilogy and she planted those little details in acofas—the bridge book between the old trilogy and the new books. Also it is worth mentioning that sarah considers acofas as a book in the series not just a novella.

So gwyn wasn’t in the first three books and she wasn’t in acofas either.

Video 2 (00:19 starting point)

not much with initial like the overarching like bigger plot if anything more characters have emerged since even old characters from the first 3 books I got to know that i'm a little better then realized they had stories i want to tell so i wouldn't say things have changed as much as they just expanded.

But the next few books in this series, like I know this is gonna happen, these are the characters are gonna be in it and it’s pretty much the same from my drunken ramblings a few years ago.

In this acowar tour video she talked about how she knew who the first two books were about and in the video she says her plans didn’t change since she pitched it to her editor. At the time she knew elain would get a book and again in acosf tour she confirmed elain is getting a book.

Video 3(01:55 starting point)

I love that you are appreciate that the guys kind of take a backseat. Because it is-- when I write to first drafts I usually have to remind myself to let the guys do something because I just like the girls

As you can see males take a backseat. The books are about the females. As always been with Sarah’s book. And she never confirmed azriel’s book. It is always his journey.

So that’s it. Gwyn wasn’t in the first three books —not even in acofas— and the males take a backseat because the books are about the females(I made a post about it> female leads). And the only female character whose book is confirmed is Elain. So do what you do with that information.

[lokitvsource]

You came into the show with the idea of Loki clashing with the TVA already in place. How exactly does this kind of arrangement work at Marvel? Michael Waldron: There was a creative brief that was 20 pages or so that basically said: “We want to do something about Loki running up against the TVA. Here’s some different avenues that might be cool to explore.” It was really serving it up for writers as a jumping off point for us to put together our pitches. Then I went off and really worked on the idea of Loki being brought in to hunt another Loki, and that becoming the heart of the show, and the Loki/Sylvie relationship. The big thing that I did in my pitch — even as early as pitching it to Kevin [Feige] — I really walked through the six episodes, kind of similar to what they were. I knew I wanted Episode 3, for instance, to be a little bit of a Before Sunrise, with Loki and this character walking across this apocalyptic moon. But Marvel had the initial, probably the most important spark of genius, which was just Loki and the TVA.

Where did the idea of the variant being a female Loki come from? That was one of my ideas, that we then confirmed in the writers room. Yeah, we knew from the get-go that it was going to be Loki falling for another version of himself.

Why was that appealing to you? I love writing any romance; it’s fun. Especially, it hasn’t been done a ton in the MCU. There’s an obviously self-reflective quality to it. And a show that’s quite literally about self-love; it is Loki getting to see parts of himself. At the start of the show, he kind of hates himself. He assesses himself to Mobius as a villain. And then he meets Sylvie, and he sees her as someone on a heroic crusade. He sees the good in her, and is able to see the good in himself.

Mobius suggests that, of course, Loki fell in love with his own variant, because he’s a narcissist. Do you think he’d be capable of falling in love with someone who is not a version of himself? [Laughs] I don’t know if he didn’t fall in love with himself first. Maybe after that, but the first time he falls, maybe this is what it had to be.

What’s the key to telling a time travel story that takes advantage of the concept without confusing the audience? I think it’s doing a lot of work that the audience never sees. It’s really understanding the logic of this thing, building out the TVA as a real organization that actually exists in our minds. Our writers room, we had a TVA handbook, encyclopedia, what they do and why they do it, a glossary of terms. And then you want to only give the audience the absolute bare minimum to understand the story, and to just get swept up in the emotional stakes of everything. If the sci-fi of it all, if the time travel logic of this show did not hold up week to week, then that would have distracted from the emotional journeys of the characters. So I’m glad that even though everyone had to take their medicine a little bit, along with Loki, in episode one, I’m glad it didn’t distract from the story we were telling. And we had the benefit of Loki being the audience’s eyes in. The audience is learning as he is.

There’s a funny scene in Avengers: Endgame where the Avengers start arguing about exactly how time travel works in the MCU. How much did you have to study what other Marvel movies had done with the idea to make sure your rules were consistent? Fortunately, Endgame was the main one, and that’s how they understand it. The TVA is an organization that understands time travel on a deeper level, probably more comprehensively than the Avengers do in Endgame. We wanted to make sure we were staying true to any rules that they laid out, but sort of establishing our own rules. It’s a time travel show. What was I thinking? A movie’s one thing, but a show is hard.

How many Loki variants did you have on the writers room whiteboard at various points? Hundreds. So many different Lokis. There was one Loki, actually maybe it was a version of Mobius that took off his glasses, and he just had really tiny eagle eyes, like he could see everything. There was stuff like that all over the white board. Tom Kauffman, who wrote that fifth episode, he’s an amazing comedy writer, and was on the first three seasons of Rick and Morty. His first draft of that episode was just bananas.

Was there a variant, or a crazy idea in general, that you really loved but couldn’t ultimately do? There was so much different stuff that we wanted to do in the Void. But the truth is, I don’t want to say any of it, because you never know. The ideas that I want to do the most may pop up elsewhere.

Okay, so let’s stick with a variant we did see. Was Alligator Loki actually a Loki, or just an alligator that happened to be wearing a Loki’s crown? A magician can’t reveal his tricks, man. That’s the great debate. Let it rage.

What was Alligator Loki‘s origin story on your side of things? Who pitched him and how was that initially received? That was maybe my very first meeting with the producers at Marvel, Kevin Wright and Stephen Broussard, talking about the show, and me saying, “When we’re doing this, you can encounter lots of different Lokis. You could have an alligator Loki. Why? Cause he’s green.” And us all laughing about how stupid that was. I think I made the point that it’s that energy of what we can do with the show. We can have something like that, but let’s play it straight. Alligator Loki, you get a laugh out of it, but by and large you try and play it straight. That was the fun tonal balance that we tried to strike in the show.

There’s been some conflicting information out there about whether the big bad was originally just going to be He Who Remains, who’s a different comics character altogether from Kang, and whether the casting of Jonathan Majors changed the plan. From your point of view, what happened? The character was always written as a version of Kang, as early as the first draft of the script, we knew in the writers room, relatively early on. He Who Remains, that’s the guy behind the curtain with the TVA, and we saw an opportunity to fuse that mythology with the Immortus mythology. And that was just really compelling. It was a way to elevate, it just felt right for Loki, because Loki was there in the first Avengers, he’s the one who brought the Avengers together, and here is directly related to the exploding of the multiverse, this event that will drive the events of Phase Four. Certainly, when Jonathan came in, it allowed us to step on the gas of just how eccentric and charismatic this character could be. I was inspired in the writing of He Who Remains by Tom Cruise’s character in Magnolia, trying to give it that Frank TJ Mackey energy a little bit. He captures that and then elevates it to something else that’s different and weird.

You just said how important the multiverse is going to be to Phase Four of the MCU. How challenging is it to have to set up this big thing for the larger Marvel endeavor while also serving the needs of the particular story you’re telling on this show? It’s a challenge in the sense that it’s all a relay race, and you’ve got the baton on this thing, and you want to do a great job. The name of the game over at Marvel is with each movie or TV show, make it the best it can possibly be. And they’re really supportive of that, and trust that it will organically fit into the larger blueprint of everything. We were excited about introducing a version of Kang, because yeah, to introduce this new big bad was cool for our show. I was aware, and cautious, of the thing I read in your review, that it might not be the most sound storytelling to introduce a new character at the very end that we’ve never seen before as the big bad of this thing. Obviously, we had the benefit that people know who Kang is, and there’s a meta thing where a portion of the audience knows Jonathan Majors is going to be playing Kang in Phase Four. But the finale was only ever going to work if He Who Remains, in a compelling way, serviced the Loki and Sylvie emotional story. That was the most important job that that character did in the finale: he laid out a very compelling conflict that ultimately drove the two of them apart.

There has also been some confusion as to exactly when you knew that there would be a second season, as opposed to you just making a limited series. Initially, in the writers room, we were not operating as though there would be a second season. And the whole way through was, this should be a story that should stand on its own. I referenced The Leftovers and Mad Men all the time. I think about those seasons, they pushed the overall stories forward, but you can pull any one of those seasons and look at it on its own as an individual story. I wanted that to be the case here, whether we did a second season or not. I think we always felt that we would want to propel Loki forward into the MCU after the conclusion of our season. The only question was, would that be in an appearance in a movie, or would that be in a second season. And it was only over the course of development that the stars aligned to make a second season.

But that end scene, where Mobius no longer recognizes Loki and the TVA is filled with Kang statues, wouldn’t have been a satisfying conclusion to a limited series. That is an ending that only works if there’s going to be a second season. So there is another conclusion to the story that I wrote that exists out there, that I guess is just for me. My own little play, that I perform with my action figures.

What was Sylvie’s original plan, before Loki hijacked her to that dying moon? It was to empty out the TVA. The entire bombing of the Sacred Timeline was to create a diversion. She’s not going to be able to create a multiverse from doing that. Ultimately, the TVA has the manpower to get out and take care of these events, but they’re going to have to scramble a lot of their minutemen teams, and it leaves the Time-Keepers significantly less guarded than they would have been otherwise. That was her plan.

You didn’t come into this as a big comic book nerd. So was there someone on staff who could tell you, “Well, there’s this giant cloud called Alioth that eats time,” or, “Well, one time Thanos had a helicopter,” or maybe someone assigned to you by Marvel? I’m constantly reading the comics but trying to not be so beholden to the and do our own thing. I charged our writers assistant, Ryan Kohler, with, “You’ve got to become the authority on all things TVA, all things Kang, and all that.” So he and my assistant, Sophie Miller, became a support staff who read a ton of these comics and became a wealth of knowledge for the writers to turn to. And then the Marvel producers, obviously are very well versed in the comics. It was Kevin Wright who came in one day and was like somebody throwing down a blueprint in an asteroid movie, going, “Alioth! Look at this!” And we were like, “Ohmigod, this is perfect!” The best thing about working on these comic book shows is that if it’s from the comics, it doesn’t matter how much of a deus ex machina it is, it’s just cool, like, “I can’t believe you pulled that from the comics.” Alioth, that was a big breakthrough that unlocked the last two episodes for us.

That is not a famous comic book that introduces Alioth. It’s an obscure Nineties miniseries, with really ugly art. But you look at it and see what it could be. You say, “If we do this, and it feels like Twister, it’s going to be really cool.”

Was Mobius’ love of jet skis there simply to illustrate his character, or did you have a grander idea in mind? I will come clean: I’m a jet ski guy. I’ve spent a good amount of time on jet skis in my day. I used to tow a jet ski to a lake and ride it in college. So it probably was me. Loki, I was just becoming a steward of that character. Mobius was a character I really felt I got to create from nothing. There’s not really anything to that character in the comics. So bits and pieces of me found their way in. I just think there’s something so poignant — here Mobius is, a guy who is literally fighting to preserve all of time in the multiverse, and yet his interests are maybe the most humble, human, terrestrial, unremarkable thing you can think of. Just a jet ski. And when you’ve got Owen Wilson playing him and it’s just that much better.

Will you be back in some capacity for Season Two? [long pause] Time will tell.

‘Loki’ Head Writer Michael Waldron — and ‘Rick and Morty’ Alum — on MCU, ‘Heels’ and More

[thunder-at-dawn]

why tf is the unfollow button right next to the ask thing-

24 with lee Foolish? i just need some fluff after today's lore ;-;

ok you said you wanted fluff but...i may or may have gotten carried away. there many or may not also be hurt/comfort in this BSHDJDJD SORRY

word count: 1,454

prompt list can be found here!

prompt 24: “i’m barely touching you!”

spoiler warning for the events of the red banquet for those who haven’t seen it yet!

This wasn’t possible.

He was immortal.

He couldn’t die...

...or so he thought.

Foolish walked through the desert, stepping foot out of his temple for the first time in days. For the first time since the Red Banquet.

...God, he even hated thinking of those two words.

He had already reunited with Puffy, his mother, a day prior. She had shed many tears in front of him, and Foolish wasn’t afraid to admit that he had shed a couple as well.

However, she had approached him. Foolish hadn’t gone anywhere else, he had just stayed inside the temple ever since he...he...no. He couldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t think about the scar across his neck that was somehow still there. He couldn’t think about how Antfrost had beheaded him and taken his life. He couldn’t think about Puffy’s screams and tears. He couldn’t think about how the egg suppressed him. He couldn’t think about how Eret- Eret.

He had to find Eret.

Foolish wasn’t sure what he wanted to do before he headed out of the temple, but now? Now, he knew for sure. As fast as he could, he ran down the desert path and towards his colossal nether portal. He passed his turtles and his abnormally large cactus, glad to be able to see them again. But that wasn’t his primary focus.

He stepped up the platforms to the nether portal, about to step in, but hesitated. Puffy had told him that everyone had escaped, and that Foolish had been the only sacrifice. But...Eret might have taken that place. It was a lot to think about...was he ready to face it?

Whatever thoughts Foolish had were interrupted by the portal swirling in front of him. Was someone coming through? Who would be coming over here? Foolish stepped aside, not wanting to be crashed into by whoever came through from the nether. He could hear the swirling vortex increase in volume, and after a few moments, someone stumbled out of the portal.

“Fucking ghasts...” A grumble came out of the stranger’s mouth. They wore a ruby red dress that trailed onto the ground as they stepped off of the platform. It was a dress that Foolish had recognized, but it looked different. While it was newer and beautiful the last time he saw that dress, the very bottom of it was now tattered, ripped, and covered in dirt. Part of the bottom of the dress had even caught on fire (from a ghast, Foolish assumed), and the stranger had brought it closer to them to stomp the fire out with their boot.

However, to Foolish, this was no stranger.

“...Eret?”

The monarch turned around, immediately recognizing their friend’s voice. As Foolish stepped down from the portal platform, Eret froze in place, their breaths increasing in speed.

“Eret...hey. Uh...jeez...” There was so much that Foolish wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to form it all into words. He stepped forward, now standing directly in front of Eret and looking at them in the eyes, past their sunglasses.

“F-Foolish, I-“ Eret stuttered, pausing once again. However, something then happened that Foolish knew all too well.

“Ah, wait! Wait, don’t cry! It’s okay!” Foolish instinctively wiped away the few tears that flowed from Eret’s eyes. Just as he had remembered from the old days, their tears were glowing white, and left a small marking on their face that would fade with time.

Their bodies finally met with a hug initiated by Eret. No, not a hug. An embrace. It was a genuine, most-definitely needed embrace.

“I- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” Eret pulled away. “I shouldn’t be crying, I should be happy, happy that you’re alive! I mean, I knew that you would come back, and that you still have two lives, but I didn’t know what was going to happen, a-and-“

“Eret, relax. It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I’m here now. Take some deep breaths.” Foolish reassured his old friend, who was currently going through a tidal wave of emotions. Eret followed the instructions, inhaling and exhaling. After a minute or two, they started to calm down.

“...It’s good to be able to see you again.” The totem god nodded with a smile.

“It’s so good to see you again too, Foolish.” Eret nodded, now smiling as well.

“You’re still wearing that dress, huh?”

Eret looked down at the tattered dress. “Yeah, I haven’t found myself taking it off...ever since...” Foolish knew what words would finish that sentence, and he could tell that neither one of them wanted to be the one to fill in the blank. Eret sighed, looking back up at Foolish. “Sorry, but would it be okay if I hugged you again?”

“Of course, Eret! You don’t even have to ask!” Foolish nodded. This time, however, he was the one to initiate the hug, before Eret got the chance to do so. The monarch held their friend right around the waist, with no plans to let go. However, a sudden feeling in Foolish’s side caused him to retreat with a small yell.

Eret also stepped back a bit, surprised by the disruption. “Is- Is everything okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“What? No, no! You’re fine. You’re just fine, Eret.” Foolish nodded, playing things down. Surely they wouldn’t figure it out, right?”

“...Alright.” With hesitance, Eret wrapped their arms tightly around Foolish again, only for him to suddenly pull away again. He once again let out a yell.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you? I can stop.” Eret asked nervously.

“No! Like I said, you’re fine.” Foolish nodded.

Questions raced through Eret’s head. Were they hurting him? Was he lying? Why was he smiling a bit? Suddenly, everything clicked together. A lightbulb went off, and they crossed their arms with a smirk.

“Ohhhhh, I think I’ve got it. Foolish, are you ticklish by chance?” They asked.

Damnit, they did figure it out!

“What? Noooooo...” The detectable nervousness of his voice confirmed Eret’s answer. “I’m not! Really, I’m not. You just kinda staHARTled mehe!” His voice raised in pitch as Eret unexpectedly squeezed his side. “Eheheret!”

“Oh, so now you’re lying to me, huh?” Eret raised an eyebrow, then commenced with grabbing both of their wrists with one hand. With their free hand, Eret poked and prodded around Foolish’s torso.

“Wahahait, wahahihit! EhehEHrehet!! I’m sohohory for lying, I’m- SHIHIT!” Foolish’s voice was filled with small snickers as they squirmed around, trying to escape Eret’s grasp.

“I’m barely touching you!” Eret said, amused by this new discovery.

“YeheHEHAh, buhut it tiHIHIckhles!” He giggled, continuing to squirm.

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Eret shrugged, switching tactics. They went from poking with one hand to two hands, vibrating their fingers into their underarms to see if they would get a different reaction.

“No. No. NonononOHOHAHAHAHAAA!! EHEHEHEHEREHET!!” Foolish threw his head back, his laughter quick to rise in volume.

“Ah, there we go!” Eret grinned, knowing they had found a better spot to attack. “You’ve got such a nice laugh Foolish, I’m so glad you’re sharing it with me!”

“SHUHUHUTUHUP!” The demigod cackled as he squirmed in Eret’s grasp. When they moved down to squeeze at his hip, he let out a shriek, quickly forcing their hands off and stepping away with a wobbly smile.

“Woah, bad spot, huh?” The monarch laughed at the other’s reaction.

“Gee, I dunno. What do you think, Eret?” Foolish asked with sarcasm in his voice. He sighed, taking a moment to catch his much needed breath. Despite the sudden surprise, it was fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he had some plain fun without the thought of the Eggpire or something else stressful on his mind.

“Well, I think that that was pretty fun.” Eret nodded.

“For you, maybe.” Foolish rolled his eyes with a grin.

“For me, definitely.” They laughed softly before turning back to Foolish. “If you want, we could probably go and visit Puffy. I’m sure she’d enjoy having all three of us together again.”

“Yeah, of course!” He nodded, never to turn down an opportunity to visit his adoptive parent. Suddenly, he had an idea. “I’ll race you!” He said, grabbing Eret’s hand and bringing him towards the nether portal.

“Wha- Foolish! That’s not fair, I’m wearing heeled boots!” Eret said to him while being walked up to the portal.

“And? All is fair in a race through the Nether, old pal!” Foolish laughed, dragging Eret through the portal with him as he stepped through. Eret rolled their eyes, but grinned, knowing the two of them were thinking the same thing.

This was just going to be one of the many new adventures they had together.

[davidmann95]

Did you see the interview Morrison did with CBR on Superman and The Authority? Any thoughts on it if so?

Anonymous asked: You see that interview with Morrison about S&tA? They’ve got me excited, confirms it’s basically a spiritual successor to their Action Comics run, an ending story for the Golden Age Superman the way All-Star was for the Silver Age. Very intrigued at how they’re doing this older, kind of pissed off Superman

Anonymous asked: Morrison talking mad shit about Injustice and the Snyder film plans made me happy. Just wanted to share even though you have much more positive feelings on both than I do lol.

Anonymous asked: Well Superman editorial continues to suck massively per Morrison. Almost comforting how even after the entire department gets purged, the people there would rather continue to do evil Superman than anything else.

Anonymous asked: Any thoughts on the new Morrison interview?

Anonymous asked: Have you read the CBR interview with Morrison on Superman and the Authority? Interested to hear your thoughts.

Plenty of thoughts.

* I suspected pretty much from the beginning that their choice to go with The Authority had to do with that crew representing for Morrison a bittersweet nostalgia for the turn-of-the-millenium promise of a more radical, just tomorrow (especially given that they repeatedly noted in interviews at the time they felt it had rightfully supplanted their own JLA, and with Millar and Quitely doing the second run on it), so it delving into that makes sense to me. I did not expect that to be in the form of Kennedy showing up (add New Frontier to the list of stuff this is implicitly drawing on, another comic asking 'has Superman sold out?'), but it makes me ten times more fascinated; I assume that was allowed in the first place because this was planned initially as part of 5G where Superman would have debuted in the 60s, and now because of the post-Death Metal 'it all counts' ethos.

* The DC perspective is an unsurprising downer (I imagine Morrison pitched The Authority angle as a commercial way of doing that they could actually work with), but it's notable that those initial plans were in 2018; I think signs point to the perspective of the higher-ups on Superman having shifted pretty dramatically in the last couple of years. Also holy crap they had a Morrison Superman mini in cold storage for four years, I don't know if it's abhorrent that this was kept for us or admirable that they waited for perfect timing. It's also kind of shocking that this wasn't written contemporaneously with Wonder Woman: Earth One Vol. 3/The Green Lantern Season Two/Detective #26, because it seems so much the conclusion of the capstone they represent.

* In a weird way, this is them doing an all-encompassing take on Superman ala their Batman they never have before. All-Star and Action are often flattened out into 'Silver Age' and 'Golden Age', but really it's them doing their interpretation of classic, iconic Superman vs. their idealized personal reinvention drawing from several eras. This is the one that goes 'no he lived through it all, what are the consequences of this and what does he regret'.

* "It's kind of a reflective age for Superman who looks back and wondered if it worked, all that gaudy presentation, fighting with Doomsday, having Crises? Were we all wrapped up in our superhero bullshit and not dealing with all the problems that we started out with and tried to [solve]?" This feels almost ripped from the page from Blackstars and it casts that story in a very new light knowing that they'd already been writing this at the time, as if the take on Superman in there was built to ultimately justify the changes in here.

* I guess I'm not strictly as harsh as most but to qualify my feelings on Injustice or the Snyder movies as "much more positive" than most I'm pretty sure they would've had to run over a beloved childhood pet. Yes, I read some Twitter responses, they were hilarious.

* Talking up Clark's alien perspective makes me wonder if that's part of why the books doubling down on "he's half-human and born on Earth, in a way even his dad can't be he's seen and lives as one of us" with Jon as the impetus for his own apparent progressive journey in Son of Kal-El. Curious what capacity Jon might be in this, since again, Morrison played with him a lot in Blackstars and this apparently sets stuff up for his book.

* Superman as the dad picking you up after you get really drunk for the entire planet is such a killer framing, and also makes me think of this, which they wrote around the same time:

* Love the described stuff with Midnighter and Apollo, wild that it's just now a full decade after their incorporation that Apollo's meeting Superman and Midnighter still hasn't met Batman.

* Are those preview pages the final colors? I suspect not but I'd be so down with it if they were and this book was going with a bold near-monochromatic take.

* Finally, realized this is the conceptual sequel to Multiversity: a pulp-age hero (who's apparently been around since then) dealing with the 'successor' heroes of tomorrow, the post-Millar post-9/11 breed, hoping to act as a brighter example but terrified he's become inexorably an instrument of the status quo and that maybe it's all just shit. Think there's a low but non-zero chance The Gentry might show up to go after Superman for breaking all the rules. It is also, god help us, their Doomsday Clock - can Superman redeem DC's metatextual perceived embodiment of realistic cynicism?

[musetta3]

Dragon Age OC as a Companion: Revka Cadash

Trend started by @little-lightning-lavellan it’s an amazing one and I had such fun with it! Thank you for the template!

This will be under a cut, because ohhhhhh my, there’s a lot here <3

This is also on AO3!

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀) 

You have selected Revka Cadash to join your party!

Race: Dwarf 

Affiliation: Carta 

Gender: Female

Class: Rogue/Archer

Specialization: artificer

 Background

Revka Cordelia Cadash (born 8:95 Blessed) is a dwarven rogue and businesswoman. She is a companion and a potential romance option for a male human, dwarf, or qunari Inquisitor in Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Revka is a member of the many-membered Cadash Clan, and daughter of Brygida ‘Cookie’ Cadash and Artur ‘Archie’ Cadash. She has an older brother, Tavi, as well as numerous cousins, including Edric ‘Dasher’ Cadash, the head of the Ferelden Carta.  

Revka grew up in the company of her rambunctious cousins, and thus views them like brothers and sisters. It’s common for Cadashes to play tricks and pull pranks on each other as a way to show affection, as is evidenced in the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze.’ Some of Revka’s favorite pranks include spiking food with chili oil, switching people’s beverages, hiding belongings, and breaking into ‘private’ things such as journals, desk contents, or that box of cookies under the bed.  

Revka made a name for herself in the Carta accompanying her mother and cousins on patrol as a teen. Her deadly accuracy with a bow earned her the nickname ‘Hawkeye;’ her duties quickly expanded to include ‘problem-solving’ for the Carta, her solutions ranging from assassinations, blackmail, and negotiating contracts, to smuggling, and forgeries. Her successful business plans and battle tactics made her a valuable asset to the Carta.

In 9:13 Dragon, Revka married Iwan Feddic, a member of the merchant caste and a Cadash client in Ostwick. She helped her husband run his international shipping business, a venture she took over after his untimely death. When Dasher’s wife, Darya, died at the hands of the Orlesian Carta, Revka returned to Ferelden to help her cousin raise his five children, turning over the Ostwicker affairs to her brother, Tavi.

When the Cadashes eliminated a rival Carta branch in Kirkwall, they sent Artur Cadash to oversee operations in the city. 22-year-old Revka volunteered to accompany him, becoming her father’s second in command. Once arrived in Kirkwall, she helped him found Graywater Imports, an import/export company functioning as a storefront for both legal and illegal goods. She is a prominent member of the Cadash Carta branch in Kirkwall, often dealing with the Dwarven Merchant Guild and Varric Tethras.

Romance with Varric Tethras

Shortly after Revka arrived in Kirkwall, she met the young Varric Tethras. What began as mixing business with pleasure became a romantic entanglement that lasted until Tethras met the talented smith Bianca Davri, and broke off with Revka for Bianca. As much as Revka wanted to cut all ties with him, she maintained their business relationship… and an unrequited, one-sided love for the deshyr prince.

Involvement

A special mission at the War Table will unlock a quest at Kirkwall’s Docks, ‘Ten Shades of Graywater,’ in which the Inquisitor will receive a mysterious anonymous letter inviting them to the coast to discuss a purveyor/supplier contract for the Inquisition. The Inquisitor will arrive in a seemingly abandoned alley, but is ambushed by Coterie thugs. After the enemies are slain, Revka can be engaged in conversation.

If Varric is in the party, he will be surprised to see Revka. It’s revealed that they know each other through various business ventures, and are old acquaintances… although the weighted, bitter quality of Revka’s answers imply that their relationship is more complicated than Varric had said.

Upon further questioning, Revka pitches her business proposal: wholesale lyrium for the Inquisition’s mages or Templars, with access to the Cadash Family’s network of spies, businesses, and Carta members for Inquisition purposes. Her only condition is that her family obtains an industry monopoly, becoming the sole provider of lyrium for the Inquisition and Southern Thedas.

Revka can be found near the archery targets and training dummies in Haven. Once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold, Revka spends time training in the courtyard, in Skyhold’s main hall talking to Varric, or in the rookery, spoiling her messenger crow, Cipher, with treats. Dialogue options will reveal that she uses the bird keep in contact with her family and business associates.

 Approval and Romance

Revka can be romanced by a male Inquisitor of any race, and will jokingly comment on the height differences if romanced by a qunari, elf, or human. A Cadash inquisitor of either gender can unlock Carta-specific dialogue. Revka is guarded at first, giving out only generic information about her family, but with some persistent questioning the Inquisitor can wear her down. Depending on dialogue choices, the conversation can end with the Cadashes exchanging stories of ‘colorful’ family members and an approval gain.

   Revka takes a more pragmatic view on politics: she supports whoever pays the most, and sells lyrium to both the Templars and mages without discrimination. Upon learning the truth behind the events Redcliffe, however, she is dismayed to learn what her products enabled. Traveling to Redcliffe with Revka in the party will trigger her personal quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes.’ (this quest will trigger after the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold if the player sided with the Templars)

Revka approves of Inquisitors who are tenacious, calculating/far-sighted, and does what is best for the majority. She believes that the end justifies the mean, sanctioning death only as a last resort. She approves of bold plans, investigating all aspects of a quest before making a decision, and an Inquisitor who makes jokes (especially puns). Her sense of justice changes as the player completes more of her personal quests. She will approve of charitable acts and kindness as the game progresses and her personal beliefs change.

Revka’s romance can be initiated through the conventional method flirting and conversation. During the quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes,’ the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, leading to a kiss.

If Revka is not romanced by an Inquisitor, she can enter a relationship with Varric Tethras, but only if the Inquisitor assists in reconciling the two ex-lovers. Revka’s romantic past with Varric is hinted at in party banter if both are present, the two bickering with each other. This series of quests are available post-arrival at Skyhold, and has conditional dialogue for certain scenarios.

Revka gets along well with Dorian and Cassandra, bonding with them over their mutual love of books. It’s revealed that the three of them have an unofficial ‘book club’ going on, where they read various novels and comment on them in party banter. Revka also gets along well with Sera, bonding over pulling pranks in Haven and Skyhold. She makes a special bond with Leliana over nugs, owning a nug, herself.

Revka does not trust Solas from the moment she meets him, stating he knows too much, and is fond of talking without saying anything. She also suspects Blackwall of hiding something.

Companion Quests

Scales Fall from Her Eyes

After the events of Redcliffe, the Inquisitor will receive a note from Revka to meet her at the abandoned cabin outside Haven. Or, if the player sided with the Templars, this will trigger once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold. At the meeting, she will share her guilt and horror at what occurred. She questions her personal beliefs, and offers an apology with the promise to amend her family’s business practices. After this quest, Revka is more empathetic, approving of selfless and charitable acts, whereas before she’d disapprove.

At the end of the quest, the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, which can lead to a kiss, if desired.

Varric’s Quest in Valammar

Revka can be found beside the fireplace in the main hall, arguing with Varric over the contents of a particular letter. Upon investigation, the Inquisitor learns that Revka has broken into the locked box in which Varric keeps his correspondence, which she claims he’s done to her on multiple occasions over the years. He neither denies nor confirms the accusation. Revka demands to know why Varric is still in contact with ‘that woman,’ declares she won’t set foot in the main hall until his ‘guest’ is gone, and leaves, demanding the Inquisitor ‘talk some sodding sense into him.’

This leads into Varric’s quests with Bianca Davri, and some cutting comments from Bianca calling Revka a ‘sore loser.’ Varric comes to Revka’s defense, much to the Inquisitor’s surprise.

If the Inquisitor takes Revka to Valammar, she disapproves and will grouse all the way there, cutting snide remarks whenever Varric says something. She becomes jealous during Bianca and Varric’s reminiscing, interjecting and muttering. Her anger only grows as the quest proceeds, Revka calling out Bianca for her selfish, pragmatic methods and carelessness. Once Inquisitor concludes the quest, Revka declares she needs some air, and says she’ll meet the Inquisitor at the nearest inquisition camp later.

Upon arrival at the campsite, a scout reports that Revka never returned to camp. The Inquisitor must search the nearby area; eventually, they find Revka injured after being ambushed by bandits (the Inquisitor and the party must defeat them in order for the quest to proceed).

If Varric is present, he will be upset, demanding to know why she would be so foolish as to wander around alone. Revka half-jokes, claiming how surprised she is that Varric cares about her safety, after all these years. Varric’s expression visibly shifts. The Inquisitor arranges for her immediate medical care, but it’s too serious a wound for her to remain out in the field. After this point, Revka is unavailable as a companion until after the Inquisitor returns to Skyhold.

Once the Inquisitor returns, they will find Varric in the central courtyard, pacing outside the infirmary/medical tents. The medic will inform the Inquisitor that Varric hasn’t left since Revka’s arrival, but refuses to go inside to see her. Selecting Varric for a conversation will show he can’t bear to face her after what happened at Valammar; he feels especially guilty, knowing that she got hurt in an attempt to calm down after the encounter. The Inquisitor can remind Varric that his apology should be to Revka, not them. To trigger their romance, the Inquisitor can encourage him to visit Revka and share his feelings.

If the Inquisitor visits her instead, they will gain high approval with her, and further unlock romance scenes. After the visit in the tent, Revka will invite the Inquisitor to her quarters to personally ‘thank’ him. The Inquisitor can choose to accept her proposition, or refuse. Depending on choice, Revka may sleep with the Inquisitor. There is an option to break relations off with Revka the morning after.

 Revka’s Family

Revka’s war table missions mostly revolve around business opportunities she’s scouted out for the Inquisition throughout Thedas. Some of these are triggered through conversations with Revka in the rookery or throughout Skyhold. Completing quests from her cousin Jon in Tevinter will reveal Venatori camps on all game-maps, and will reduce the cooldown time on war table quests dealing with Venatori in general.

Revka’s cousin, Czibor, can be encountered in the Hissing Wastes hunting Venatori. Accompanying xem in eliminating a Venatori camp can lead to xir recruitment as an Inquisition agent.

The Trouble with Tavi

After the quest Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Revka will ask to meet the Inquisitor, requesting their assistance in a matter of life or death. She reveals that she’s received a letter from the Orlesian Carta, stating their displeasure at the Inquisitor’s choice of ruler, since they’re encroaching on the Orlesian Carta’s operations. They know Revka and the Cadash family has been helping the Inquisition, and threaten to exact revenge. She’d thought it an empty threat until her brother Tavi stopped replying to her letters. Upon investigation, it’s revealed that the Orlesian Carta kidnapped Tavi and have hid him at their base in Val Royeaux. Revka asks the Inquisitor for assistance.

Should the Inquisitor refuse Revka, she will greatly disapprove, stating that her brother’s more important that the Inquisitor’s ‘sodding principles,’ and leave the Inquisition to save him. She will not be available again until later in the game (post Adamant), when a war table mission will appear from Tavi in Ostwick, stating that Revka saved him and has returned to Kirkwall. She is still very offended, and is considering terminating the Cadash business contracts with the Inquisition. He urges the Inquisitor to please make her reconsider, citing the monetary gain the contracts net him but also Revka’s hurt (note: the letter will also reference a romanced Varric, asking the Inquisitor to enlist his help). The Inquisitor has the choice to make up with Revka and invite her back, or leave her be.  

Should the Inquisitor choose to help Revka, she will greatly approve and travel with the Inquisitor to Val Royeaux. Varric—regardless of the romance status—will also express interest in coming, but bringing him along is not required. Revka will be touched by his offer, regardless.

The meeting place mentioned in the Carta’s letter is an abandoned oil warehouse at the docks. Inside, the companions note the derelict condition of the place. The further they travel into the warehouse, following a trail of blood, the smell of rancid oil grows stronger. In a storeroom, there is a lone dead dwarf bearing a note, a man Revka recognizes as Tavi’s second in command in Ostwick. If the Inquisitor can find Tavi before time runs out, the note says, they’re welcome to him. As the Inquisitor reads the note aloud, a shadow darts in the periphery; the door slams shut, locking them in. A torch is thrown in through a window, setting the spilled oil on fire.

The Inquisitor may, through a series of dialogue choices, decide to rescue Tavi or leave him to his fate, opting to escape. If the Inquisitor chooses to escape and leave Tavi behind, Revka will greatly disapprove, running off to find him herself. If she is romanced by Varric, he will also greatly disapprove, stating that they should go after Revka. If the Inquisitor chooses this route, they can still save Revka and Tavi. Otherwise, the two Cadashes are not seen again, supposedly perishing in the fire. Revka will then be unavailable as a companion for the remainder of the game.  

The mission to save Tavi is time-sensitive, with several endings: should the Inquisitor take too long to escape or find Tavi, the warehouse will collapse on them, killing everyone. The timer, separated into quarters, is marked by sections of the roof collapsing: escaping by the third collapse will guarantee the party’s safety. Escaping post-third collapse can result in a 50% chance of the roof collapsing on the party: if this occurs, Revka pushes either her love interest or her brother out of the way of a falling beam, sacrificing herself for their safety. The mission then ends with the party barely escaping in time, mourning the loss of their lover and/or friend.

Pranks

Various pranks around Skyhold and Haven are attributed to Revka via ambient dialogue and party banter. If the approval rate is high enough, Inquisitor has an opportunity to join Revka in pulling pranks around Skyhold post-Adamant. She claims that she’d like to cheer everyone up, and would like the Inquisitor’s help.

Prank 1: sneak into the kitchen and switch the sugar out for salt in a cake.

Prank 2: paint a smiley face on the back of a sleeping Solas’s head

Prank 3: Rearrange Vivienne’s furniture

Prank 4: Distract Varric so she can steal his letters and replace them with scrambled riddles

A cutscene follows, showing a crowd standing at the base of a flagpole the morning after. Revka pushes through the crowd, gasping: someone has nailed her frilly blue panties to the pole. Varric is seen leaning against a column, howling with laughter. Revka pulls a face at him and scowls, but eventually ends up laughing, too. (Note: this is inspired by the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze’)

Trespasser

If Revka left or died during the events of the game, she will not be at the Winter Palace. Otherwise, there are several outcomes as to what she’s been doing…

If she romanced Varric, she returned to Kirkwall and is his lover

If she romanced the Inquisitor, she stayed alongside him as an Inquisition agent

If she did not romance anyone, she returned to Kirkwall

There is an option to marry Revka as a romanced Inquisitor, or urge her to marry Varric. If she marries, her brother Tavi and a recruited cousin Czibor may attend the ceremony.

 Combat comments

Kills an enemy

And stay dead!

Sodding nughumper, good riddance.        

Low Health

A little help would be lovely!

Oh shit. Not good.

Atredum na satolva! Toss me a health potion,     will you?

I’m too old for this…        

Low Health (Companions)

(The Inquisitor) Inquisitor!

(The Inquisitor - if romanced) Hold on, love!

(Varric, unromanced) Varric, you don’t look so     good...

(Varric, if romanced) Oh shit, don’t you dare die on     me.  

(Sera) Can someone check on Sera, please?

(Cassandra) Cass! Wait!

(Dorian) Dorian needs help!

Location comments

(Approaching Camp) Ahhh! Home sweet tent. 

(When collecting a shard) Ooh! I wonder how much it’d fetch at market.

Storm Coast

(sighs) They ought to call this place the ‘Soggy Coast,’ or the ‘Sopping Coast.’  My socks are soaked through to my boots.

Fallow Mire

The bugs will drain you dry before the undead will. Nug-humping bastards keep biting me…

Anyone else feel eyes watching you from the shadows?

Hinterlands

(Laughs) You know, back when I was running jobs for the Carta, I would get so lost here in the Hinterlands. Good to know things haven’t changed.

Don’t go near there; bears love that place. I learned that the hard way…

(at Witchwood) Ah, the Which-Witch-is-Which-Wood. Da would warn my brother and I about this place when were children.

The Hissing Wastes

I have sand in places I never knew existed.

Why my cousin had to choose to hunt Venatori in the ass-end of nowhere is beyond me…

Emprise du Lion

(scoffs) Snow. Snow. More sodding snow. I’m up to my tits in the stuff.

We don’t get snow like this in Kirkwall.

(on seeing a snowfleur) Ooh, look! Fluffy nugs! Can I take one home? Lucky could use a friend.

Emerald Graves

I…I heard the reason why this place is called the Emerald Graves. Such a tragic story.

I didn’t expect such greenery this far south, to be honest.

Exalted Plains

(shivers) You can feel the sorrow in this place.

 Companion Comments

Blackwall: “Rev? She’s a bit… unnerving, to be honest. Never smiles, glares holes in the side of your head. Offered to sell my carvings in Denerim, though: two sovereigns apiece. I swear she could sell water to a fish, that woman…”

Varric: “(Laughs) Hawkeye and I go way back. Don’t let her innocent face fool you: she’ll bleed you dry at Wicked Grace if you let her. Learned some of my best tricks from her—Don’t…erm. Don’t tell her that.”

OR

“Do you know how Hawkeye got her name? She shot a fly from across a room, once. Still don’t know how she did it.”

(If Inquisitor romanced Revka) Hawkeye’s a sweet girl, under all the Carta bullshit. I’m glad she has you; she deserves some happiness in her life.”

(If romances Revka): “I know they say don’t mix business with pleasure, but I get all the best discounts at Graywater Imports, now. You want anything? I think they’re running a sale on Antivan leather, at the moment.”

OR

“She’s probably upstairs feeding Cipher, knowing her. Or taking another order for Dagna; buys crafting supplies like candy, that one.”

Sera: “Rev’s fun, not all stuffy just ‘cause she’s someone back home, yeah? Takes jokes well. Can’t shoot for shit, though…”

Cole: Ash, steel, gray, withering inside at the sight of him smiling at her. Don’t look back, you’re not going that way; old coals don’t rekindle. It bleeds under her armor, but she can’t bandage the wound. I want to help. (if she romances Varric) but he helped her feel whole again. (if she romances the Inquisitor) but you helped her feel whole again.

Solas: “Is it wise to allow a known member of the Carta in our ranks? She actively seeks information and passes it along to her superiors.”

OR

“Do tell Mistress Cadash that if she breaks into my desk one more time, I shall ward the drawers to set her on fire. I can tolerate harmless pranks, but one thing I cannot abide is liars who snoop.”

Iron Bull: “They say still waters run deep, and she’s no exception. She might appear all laughs and smiles, but that woman knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t underestimate her.”

Dorian: “Ah, my darling Rev: she has excellent taste in literature and baked goods.” (if she romances Varric) “And dwarven merchant princes.”

Cassandra: “I doubted her intentions, at first, but she has proven herself quite useful to the Inquisition. If you see her, tell her to return my book, will you? She ‘borrowed’ a week ago, and I want to know what happens to the poor Guard Captain.”

Vivienne: “Mistress Cadash would do quite well at court; she understands the Game surprisingly well for one who’s not a courtier. Too strong from the onset, however: the idea is to gain a person’s trust, not frighten them into submission.”

Cullen: “I knew Mistress Cadash back in Kirkwall; I’d frequent Graywater Imports often. They carry three kinds of hair pomade there, did you know?”

Josephine: “Mistress Cadash has many useful connections throughout Thedas; I’m pleased she offers them to us so freely. But then, we’re making her a rich woman with all the business contracts. Quid pro quo, as the Tevinters say.”

Leliana: “Rev is a shrewd woman, fierce and good at her craft. Did you know that she has a pet nug in Kirkwall? She always has something for the birds when she comes here; I like her.”

 Trivia

It’s said that the young Varric Tethras wrote his  first novel, The Dasher’s Men, about Edric Cadash, Revka’s cousin. The femme fatale who assists the hero of the tale, Revka, is heavily inspired by Varric’s lover at the time, Revka Cadash. An autographed copy of The Dasher’s Men can be found in the rookery, where Revka sits.  

Revka adores cookies, and has been trying to get the secret brandy snap recipe off of her cousin, Edric, for years. She has tried everything  from recipe book publisher scams to impersonating the Viscount of Kirkwall’s chef to obtain the recipe

In party banter, Revka will mention her nug, Lucky, which, according to the short story, she won  during a rather raucous evening of Wicked Grace.

When Revka isn’t reading, answering correspondence, or training, she enjoys baking, sewing, and embroidery.

Despite being an adept businesswoman, Revka is terrible at bookkeeping, and will often complain about it to Varric… sometimes enlisting him to do it, with a bribe of cookies.

[mihidecet]

Sbi&Co d&d AU: Fundy & Niki

AKA: Tibi's MCYT WritingTober, day 23!

SURPRISE!! As for @spout1nk and @awebo 's lovely requests, here is the chapter where we get to meet Fundy and Niki!!

This is also, once again, a fill for @the-only-gamer-gost 's list of prompts!! I got myself another free day aahahah

I do hope you'll like it! And as always, make sure you check out @whatimevendoinhere 's stunning drawings!!! They made art of Fundy and it is so good yall.

It starts like this: the whole gang is looking for a new job to tackle, with Techno, Tommy and Tubbo looking at the town's mission board and Wilbur and Phil needling the town's guard for more high profile tasks.

Half an hour later, a bored and disappointed trio meet up with a radiant Wilbur and an impressed Phil.

They have a job and the pay is five times higher than normal.

Apparently some dumbass has been running around the county, scamming nobles with fake artifacts and cursed precious objects. The nobles are mad, they want their coins back and the scammer in jail - or possibly worse -, and they are willing to pay an embarrassingly high amount of coin for it to be done quickly and quietly. Quietly being the highest requirement.

And that is how the SleepyBois start tracking this infamous scammer down.

First, they find all of the victims.

That alone takes them a while, because nobles are tricky to navigate and scorned nobles are even worse - and somehow these scammed nobles all seem to be not that good people, if the way they treat the adventurers trying to help them is any indication.

Still, one may assume that spending a lot of platinum coins on things that turn out to be fake and haunted might make you a bit … confrontational.

Also, they're going to make a lot of coins out of this job, so it's not like they're going to say anything.

Then, they buy a new, spotless map of the region with about a quarter of their collective coins - “Philza Greenwood we should have accepted the one from the kind old lady.” “You know that was cursed, we’re not doing this again.” - and start writing down every location hit.

It’s not that hard, once they put Tubbo to work, to find a handful of possible towns their target is going to hit.

It's honestly impressive how quickly he's able to narrow their options down, sending Techno and Wilbur out for recon missions to specific locations, guiding the whole team in a weirdly familiar way; straightforward and decisive like Techno, gentle and responsible like Phil, switching between the two attitudes as easy as he breathes.

Wilbur's only seen him like this when he works on his creations before, and it's amazing how quickly he gets over the initial sheepishness and steps into his role.

Everything is good and wonderful and he fits perfectly into the team, and this is just another proof of it.

The only bad thing about the whole situation is how bloody smug Tommy is, since it had been his idea to let Tubbo handle the planning - the kid can gloat, Wilbur's got to give him that, even if he is right in doing that.

Ever since the two childhood best friends had reunited, Tommy has been … more. Not in a bad way - no matter how much Techno jokingly groans about it -, but it's evident how much there was something weighing on the kid's mind before this.

But right now it's not really the best time to think about this.

A couple of nights ago, Tubbo had narrowed the list of possible new noble families that were going to be hit down to a single name. An old timey, very strict and reclusive family, now mainly composed of two grandparents and an impressive array of disowned young adventurers, and workers of all types. Reasons for disowning were many and varied and all a bit ridiculous.

Apparently having a bad temper and even worse record of mistreating everyone around you was the common denominator for all the people being targeted, alongside having an extremely absurd amount of coin.

Phil knows, he's seen it in Wilbur's eyes the moment Tubbo told everyone his deductions, that the tiefling would be more than happy with just letting the scammer go with a slap on the wrist. Everyone is slowly leaning towards that, Phil himself is too, but he's not really going to mention that yet, especially as they're all gearing up to stalk the scammer back to their hideout.

Especially since they can't really let this chance go: the fact that Tubbo was able to narrow their options down to a single family means that if this isn't it, they'll have to start from scratch.

When they leave the tavern, packed light and ready for the expected stealth, it's a couple of hours before dawn.

Everyone is thankfully able to see in the dark - even Tubbo, who is a human like Tommy, since he used his knowledge of glass-making and arcane enchantments to forge himself some night vision goggles - and they move quickly in the shadows, their silhouettes hidden even more due to one of Phil's spells.

This is also the first time Tubbo's bees aren't making any sound - apparently their buzzing is purely aesthetic.

Reaching the family's manor is not hard nor it takes longer than expected, which is quite unusual considering their experiences. Once they reach their destination, they hide near the entrance then Techno vanishes - probably gone inside the main gates to see if their target has already arrived.

About fifteen excruciating minutes later, Techno reappears, one hand already on Tommy's mouth to prevent him from yelping in surprise and reveal their position. The fact that he is perfectly correct in his assumption doesn't prevent him from receiving a swift kick to the shin.

"He's inside. Seems human, dressed like a scammer would be dressed. Or a very extravagant seller. Showing off a floating statue." Techno relies the information as he rubs the now sore spot on his leg, side eyeing a very offended Tommy while Tubbo is red faced almost to the point of tears as he desperately tries not to burst out laughing.

"Good job." Phil confirms, trying very hard to stay focused on the task - this all is extremely useful information, both in case of a possible fight breaking out and because in all the time they've been searching for the scammer, they've had nothing but mixed information from their targets.

One time it's a sweet looking cleric, another time they're a buff half orc, then it's a tiefling with a missing horn- every time something new, but the only constants have been the extravagant clothing choices and them being a magic user.

Wilbur punches the air with gusto, conveying silently what everyone is more or less feeling, and then they resign themselves to some uncertain amount of time of patiently and quietly waiting.

Phil has a spell to hide them again ready for whenever they hear somebody getting close.

Techno takes the time to meditate.

Wilbur is tapping a finger against his leg with his eyes closed, so he's probably writing a song in his mind.

Tubbo is taking notes on his notebook, planning another upgrade for his crossbow.

Tommy is about to vibrate out of his skin.

Everything according to plan.

Then, finally, Phil hears footsteps approaching the gates.

He casts his spell, shadows elongating from the trees they are hiding in, wrapping around them, covering them, fake greenery taking form in front of them- and everyone is instantly on edge.

"Are you sure you don't want a totem? They're good luck! They'll protect you against evil spirits - those old crooks must be beacons for them!" A quick paced voice reached their ears, and Techno's dagger is already out.

A much quieter voice answers - only Phil manages to catch the irritated negative answer, but everyone hears the gates being slammed shut.

There's more footsteps, then their target enters most of their views.

The man - probably? - takes some steps, back straight and shoulders moving with a light chuckle - when his eyes stray towards them.

He blinks once, twice, then his eyes switch colour.

He stops in his tracks.

Raises a hand and gives a quick wave.

"Uhm … cya!" And then he disappears, vanishing into thin air.

Techno curses loudly next to Tommy.

"Wilbur-"

The tiefling stands up and his eyes turn pure black as he raises a hand towards the place where he disappeared, muttering a quick song under his breath before calling out:

"Tubbo!"

A bolt from the kid's crossbow flies in the direction Wilbur's pointing at a split second later.

It flies, but doesn't strike true, barely grazing the scammer's jacket as the man moves out of its way. Right into Techno's thrown dagger which hits him right in the side.

There's a loud, weirdly pitched "shit!" coming from the empty air in the space in front of them, then nothing but the sound of someone fleeing as silently as they can.

Instead of following suit, like one would expect, the rest of the group turns towards Techno, who's holding his dagger - now back into his hand - and mouthing a prayer against the stained blade.

There's a light humm coming from nowhere and everywhere that echoes in Techno's mind for a moment, then he opens his eyes.

"So, do you have him?" Tommy asks, feeling the urge to pursue their target itching under his skin.

"Yup, I've got him. Nice job with the crossbow, Tubbo." Techno answers, shooting a small smile to his short companion, who shakes his weapon proudly.

"It's quite easy to shoot in order to make people move a certain direction, you know, once you know what to do!"

Tracking down the scammer is quite easy now that Techno has cast his tracking spell on him.

They wait for a moment, reconvene, make sure they have everything they need and then they start moving.

They don't have to walk much, as Techno lets them know that their target has stopped moving and they're getting closer extremely quickly.

In the end, it's a small, cute looking wooden house that they reach. It seems small and well kept, with clean windows and bright flowers on the outside. It's a bit hidden amongst a thicker part of the forest, but it gets enough light to be comfortably illuminated.

Wilbur figures the scammer ran and hid here, in hope of either having them lose his tracks or to maybe use a civilian as human shield.

Phil gestures towards the house, to which Techno answers with a decisive nod, so the elf approaches the door and knocks.

"Hello?" A feminine, accented voice answers from behind the door.

"Hi, I'm very sorry to disturb you, we're a group of adventurers looking for a runaway criminal, have you perhaps seen anyone suspicious running around?" There's a beat of silence, then a long, drawn out humm.

"I'm very sorry but I don't think I can help you with that? I was busy baking inside, I haven't seen anyone." The voice answers back, seemingly sheepish and apologetic.

Wilbur takes a step forward, shooting a glance towards a suspicious looking Techno.

"Our apologies, but would you mind letting us rest inside your abode for a little while? We've been out all night looking for clues, and we will pay you for your kindness."

After a slightly longer than expected pause, the sound of keys jingling reachea the team's ears.

"Oh, yes, of course. It's a bit small here, but- We can make it fit."

Phil knows enough Celestial to recognise the accent in the woman's voice; seeing her almost aethereal being open the door cements in Phil's mind the fact that yes, the person in front of him is of Celstial descent - that, and the dusting of silver and golden freckles across her face.

"Oh my, there- there's a lot of you."

Phil gives a sheepish smile, an apology ready on his lips - she is hiding their target, for some reason, but that doesn't mean he's going to be rude about it - but Tommy is already striding towards the entrance.

"We'll be good and squeeze together, promise!" He exclaims, quickly hitting Wilbur in the side with his elbow as he passes him.

The tiefling shoots him a murderous glare, which instantly disappears and turns into a kind smile the instant he realises that the aasimar woman is looking at him questioningly.

"Are you all part of the same group?" She asks as they shuffle in. The house is slightly bigger than expected, with everything looking both very clean and very lived in - books left open on a table, a chair that hasn't been set back, a blanket thrown on an armchair instead of being folded properly. It's homely.

There are a couple of colourful looking birds flying around the place, and they instantly flock to Phil the moment he enters the kitchen - following the woman's instructions. To be fair, there are plenty animals hanging out in the whole house: he's sure he heard a squirrel running in the corridor, and there were a couple of tortoises in the living room.

And then, on the window sill next to the kitchen table there is a fox, sleeping curled up under the sun. Techno, on edge from the tracking and the oncoming social interactions, really envies the tranquil animal.

"Is there anything you need? Something to drink, maybe? I was making some bread, so-" the woman starts, taking out a still smoking loaf. Everyone but Phil is instantly glowing: how often are you offered freshly baked bread? And mostly for free? That really is something special, that must be surely cherished.

And yet, Phil is not looking at the woman - who is still yet to introduce herself - but at the fox. Still sleeping peacefully, after they'd opened a single eye at the sound of strangers entering the room.

"That is very kind of you, miss …?" Wilbur asks, eyes constantly switching between the offered food and the stranger's face.

"Oh, you can call me Niki."

Phil moves closer to the fox with a small smile, one bird still perched on his shoulder, and extends a hand slowly, hoping not to startle the animal.

The fox blinks slowly at the fingers floating right in front of their eyes, then huffs and moves their head so that Phil can start giving them little scratches, tail swishing lazily - all this, while the rest of the team does a round of introductions.

"Niki, your fox is adorable." Phil comments after a moment, while the others are eagerly helping out Niki in finding a knife to cut slices of bread with and honey, which apparently she makes herself.

"Ah yeah, thank you. His name is Fungi." She answers with a small smile, making Phil chuckle. The fox's tail keeps swishing from side to side, probably to convey his appreciation of the continuous pets he's receiving, but one of his front legs seems to not be making any movement. A quick, focused, look confirms his suspicions.

"Oh dear, he seems hurt. Let me heal him for you." Phil comments, worry colouring his tone, as he focuses his intent into the palm of his hand, lightly resting on the injured limb.

As his magic knits back muscle and tissue and blod cells, Phil watches intently as the stab wound shrinks and then disappears. Then, he picks the fox up, cradling him in his arms as Niki gets closer, a look of deep worry on her face - one of the first true emotions she's shown since they got there, Phil notices, which only serves to confirm his suspicions.

"Oh, thank you so much, I'm so very glad, he just keeps getting into messes!"

There's a moment of pause, then Phil starts scratching the fox's chin - his tail starts wagging noticeably quicker.

"Did you know foxes are known for their cunning, but they're actually pretty dumb?" Phil starts, prompting everyone to turn towards him in shock and deep confusion.

Phil merely chuckles.

"You agree, right, little guy? I can see it in your eyes, there's nothing going on in that little brain of yours, right?" He teases, cooing at the little animal before- in a mix of slightly disturbing deformations and a blink-and-you-miss-it transformation - the fox in his arms suddenly enlarges, his limbs elongating and face rounding out.

Now, this would have probably come as a big surprise to akl but instead it looks quite funny because the moment the small fox becomes a human sized man with for ears, all the instantly added weight crashes into Phil and sends them crashing down to the ground.

But since they've all gotten used to a skinchanger moving from their human form to their animal one, one way or another, all that remains is the hilarouns scene of a laughing out loud Phil sprawled on the ground with their red faced, extremely irritated target kneeling on top of him.

"Fuck you, man! That was so mean!"

For a moment everyone is just staring at each other, trying to understand what has happened, until when Techno speaks up.

"Well I guess we found our scammer."

[blitzturtles]

Title: Countdown

Rating: Explicit (Pure PWP)

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (though quite a bit in the future.)

Pairing(s): JotaKak, Minor Jotaro/Kakyoin/Polnareff

Summary: “Interested in adding time to our arrangement?” Kakyoin asks, casually as he sets to testing his latest attempt at a fix. Jotaro bites back another pathetic sound that does more to Kakyoin than he’s willing to let on.

Notes: This fic starts mid-scene and has some (pre-negotiated) voyeurism kink, which is where Polnareff comes in (though his timing is more convenient than planned.)

I was going to do the aftercare scene, but this got long enough on its own. orz

-

Kakyoin is busy looking over a chunk of code that Polnareff had directed him to. Apparently he’s having persistent problems with bugs. The sort where, when one gets resolved, another (one or two, sometimes three) pops up in its place (is there any other kind?), and Polnareff is at his wits’ end. Fortunately, Kakyoin has nothing better to do than to try and isolate the problem for him. Or, well, he doesn’t feel like he has anything better to do. Someone else might disagree.

As if on cue, Jotaro squirms in his lap and lets out a soft whine. It’s a bid on his part to get more. More friction, more contact, more-- anything, really. Desperation drives him to do what he typically wouldn’t, but Kakyoin is hardly moved by the attempt.

“Interested in adding time to our arrangement?” Kakyoin asks, casually as he sets to testing his latest attempt at a fix. Jotaro bites back another pathetic sound that does more to Kakyoin than he’s willing to let on. He grinds his hips up, pressing further into Jotaro. If he doesn’t want to abide by their rules, then Kakyoin is all too happy to provide some incentive. “What did I say about censoring yourself?”

Jotaro sucks in a breath and curls forward, nearly collapsing on the desk in front of them. His fingers grasp at the edges. “Not- ah, not to,” he breathes out, then adds a belated, “Sir.”

Kakyoin takes mercy on him and decides against punishing Jotaro for the nearly forgotten honorific. He’s trying; Kakyoin knows that. Besides, he finds the whole thing rather endearing, from the failed attempts to keep quiet to the stuttered replies. Never mind the flush of Jotaro’s skin. Spread across his shoulders and up his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. It’s such a lovely color on him. Kakyoin really ought to get this on video one of these days.

The computer pings and rips Kakyoin out of his thoughts. He blinks at the textbox that appears and quickly answers back. No luck, and, no, he can’t chat.

Oh?

Damn Polnareff for being the ever curious sort that really can’t read a room to save his life. And damn himself for his inclination toward the mischievous.

We’re in the middle of something.

He sends the message knowing damn well that Polnareff will follow-up. That he either won’t pick up on the insinuation or won’t care to. The man is nothing if not too curious for his own good, and Kakyoin is in the mood to take advantage of that.

I didn’t realize I was interrupting.

Kakyoin barely catches the amused sound that bubbles in the back of his throat. Jotaro’s too focused on counting the seconds to look at the screen, and he wants to keep it that way for now.

Do you want to see?

There are probably more subtle ways to ask. If nothing else, he could have been much more coy about the whole thing, but his own patience is beginning to wear thin. Jotaro squirms on his lap like Kakyoin can’t feel every little twitch, and he’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. He glances at the clock while Polnareff types and lets out a-- slow and careful, so as to avoid raising suspicion-- relieved breath to see that they have less than five minutes to go.

It would be a privilege.

The formality, and its meaning, aren’t lost on Kakyoin. Polnareff is drooling for it, and Kakyoin wouldn’t mind an opportunity to show off his boy. Beautiful and perfect and on full display. Someone ought to know how good Jotaro is for him. How patient he can be, if offered the right incentive.

“Shit,” Kakyoin sucks in a breath, feigning alarm even as he’s the one to start the camera.

Jotaro’s head snaps up. His eyes glance at the screen, then to Kakyoin, “What?”

“Polnareff’s starting a video chat,” Kakyoin feels more than hears the way Jotaro sucks in a breath and goes tense. For a moment, he thinks he’s mis-stepped, but he knows Jotaro.

“Shit,” Jotaro echoes his earlier sentiment and starts to move. A low moan escapes him as he does, and he falls back into Kakyoin’s lap with a huff of air. He barely managed to lift himself, yet his head falls back against Kakyoin’s shoulder as he lets out a high-pitched whine.

Kakyoin takes the opportunity for what it is and hooks his arm around Jotaro’s middle like a lap bar. He turns his own head to press his lips against Jotaro’s neck in a quick, reassuring kiss, “He knows.”

Jotaro’s eyes snap open, but he doesn’t dare move. Can’t bring himself to check to see if the camera is already on. He’s as bare as the day he came into the world (where Kakyoin is almost completely dressed), and he knows the camera is already set at a downward angle. It only ever works when it’s placed up high, which usually makes it the bane of Kakyoin’s existence. Right now, it’s Jotaro’s.

“Color?” Kakyoin asks, nuzzling into Jotaro’s neck like the bastard he is.

“Green,” Jotaro manages in another gasp when Kakyoin grinds into him. A promise for what’s to come later if he can behave himself. “And fuck you, Noriaki.”

Kakyoin laughs, unable to help it. There’s no heat in Jotaro’s words, and he won’t punish him for it, though he could. It wouldn’t be entirely fair, given-

“Such language.”

Both of their attention snaps to the computer screen then. Polnareff smiles sweetly at them, completely unphased by the sight that greets him. His hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, low at the nape of his neck, and he’s wearing an older t-shirt that indicates that, in combination with his hair, he hasn’t left the house all day. Which means this might very well be the most interesting thing he’s had the opportunity to lay eyes on.

Kakyoin’s little theory only gets further confirmation when Polnareff leans forward and rests his chin in his curled hand.

“Please, feel free to pretend I’m not here.”

“Easier said than done,” Jotaro grumbles under his breath.

Kakyoin isn’t buying the put upon act, not when he can wrap his fingers around Jotaro’s cock and feel how hard he is. Jotaro tries to press into his hand, apparently forgetting the rules once more. “You’re fortunate we have a guest, or that would be another five minutes.”

“Oh?” Polnareff perks up a bit. He ignores the desperate sound that Jotaro makes to ask, “How long has it been?”

“Since you sent the last email. Jotaro was getting a bit restless, and I thought we could both use a reminder,” for Jotaro, one of patience, and, for Kakyoin, one about staying on task. He can’t say that it’s worked out all that well for him, considering how the situation has devolved a tad beyond his initial intentions, but he has a feeling Polnareff won’t mind much if it takes them a while longer yet to work out the bugs in his code.

Polnareff sucks in a breath and whistles, impressed to say the least, “How much longer?”

“Didn’t you say to pretend- fuck,” Jotaro jerks forward out of reflex, and he regrets it immediately. The added separation is like torture. With his nerves already on edge, he can barely stand the lost contact, and sinking back down is damn near fatal. It’s all he can do to hold the desk so tightly that the wound threatens to splinter. One little rush of stand energy. That’s all it would take.

“My apologies,” Kakyoin starts in that sickly sweet tone he gets when he wants someone to know how insincere he is, though it isn’t Polnareff that he’s making his point to. “He’s usually better behaved.”

“Non, it’s been quite awhile,” Polnareff still doesn’t look phased. Jotaro can’t bring himself to look him in the eyes, but it’s unfair how relaxed he is when Jotaro can’t do anything. Not to hide and not to get off. “How much longer?”

Kakyoin takes a peak at the clock again, “Less than two minutes. If he doesn’t push his luck.”

It shouldn’t make his cock twitch, the way they talk about Jotaro like he isn’t there. Watching him like an object. He has no control here. No recourse. And his thoughts are too scattered for any kind of plotting. He wouldn’t, anyway. Because he wants this. Wants so badly to be good for Kakyoin and to do what he’s told. He likes sitting perfectly still while filled completely. It takes him out of his own head, away from the thoughts that race too frequently to be healthy.

“One minute,” Kakyoin says, breaking through the mottled thoughts. He reaches up to mess with the camera, adjusting it until- oh.

Oh.

He points it at their bed, and Jotaro doesn’t need to be fully aware to know what that means. It doesn’t stop him from planting his feet on the floor and preparing himself for what comes next.

Vaguely, he’s aware of the fact that Polnareff and Kakyoin have been talking the whole time. That Polnareff has his commentary and that Jotaro would be completely humiliated if he could process any of what’s said, but he’s too busy anxiously counting down the time until,

“Up.”

Jotaro whines, helpless. He can’t resist the tone Kakyoin gets when he gives an order and leaves no room for misinterpretation or arguments. For a moment, he forgets Polnareff is there, watching. Listening.

“I can’t- I can’t,” he whines even as he tries. And he really does try, but each little bit of Kakyoin that slides out of him leaves behind an emptiness that he can barely breathe around. He’s only vaguely aware of the tendrils that wrap around him, pulling him upward regardless of what he wants. He leans into the touch despite himself.

“Bed,” Kakyoin directs. Whether it’s aimed at Hierophant or Jotaro doesn’t really matter. They make it to the mattress in a tangle. Hierophant has no shame in running the length of Jotaro’s torso and beyond.

“How?” Jotaro breathes when Kakyoin approaches; it’s a bastardized and short winded version of what he’s supposed to ask.

“Head down. I want you on display,” and not only for himself, though Kakyoin isn’t above admiring his work when there’s no one else there. They’ve only ever talked about doing this before. Actually following through is something else entirely, and Kakyoin knows that neither of them will last long. If he can’t offer length, then he sure as hell intends to offer a show.

Jotaro rolls over onto his hands and knees. His thighs shake with the effort. He’s already at the point of exhaustion, but there’s an eagerness to the way he gets into position with his head dropped down into his arms after a moment of situating. He rests on his elbows now, rather than his hands, and his ass is on full display.

Kakyoin retrieves the bottle of lube with Hierophant. He pops the lid open and pours out enough to coat himself. Hierophant takes the opportunity to spread Jotaro open with their tendrils. Polnareff lets out a small gasp that has Kakyoin smirking. No matter who he’s sharing Jotaro with now, the man belongs to him.

“Like what you see?” He asks, knowing the answer already, but he doesn’t mind stroking his own ego. For putting someone so powerful and unrelenting in such a state. For having him in the first place.

“I do,” Polnareff confirms and earns the both of them a whine. Or, perhaps, Jotaro is just losing his patience. “Though Hierophant may beat you to the best part.”

Kakyoin glances back to find his stand sliding one of their tentacles into Jotaro. He watches, mesmerized for a moment, as it fucks into him. He could watch the two until the end of time, if it weren’t for the minor detail that he can feel everything Hierophant does, and he won’t last much longer.

“Enough,” he says and recalls Hierophant.

Jotaro nearly yelps at the sudden loss of contact, but Kakyoin is there immediately, pressing the tip of his cock against Jotaro’s twitching hole. It’s one smooth motion until Kakyoin’s buried deep with a groan, and he damn near loses it right then.

It takes everything in him to hold still long enough to regain some of his composure. He takes several deep breaths and refuses to move until he’s sure he can do so without cumming on the spot. Jotaro tries to press back against him, but there’s not any fight left in his body. He’s easy enough to shove back down into the mattress until Kakyoin’s ready.

He starts his pace slow at first, but it doesn’t last long. He can’t last long, and Jotaro babbles almost ceaselessly into the crook of his elbow after only a few, short minutes.

Kakyoin fumbles for a moment to undo the cock ring that Jotaro’s had on for the better part of the last couple of hours. It doesn’t take him much more than that, a few strokes and stuttering, half-thrusts before Jotaro comes across his own belly with a broken sound. Kakyoin barely outlasts him, buries himself deep and loses himself in the aftershock of Jotaro’s orgasm.

His vision blacks out for a solid few seconds, and all he can do is keep his grasp on Jotaro’s hips as a grounding point. At least until his breathing calms down and the blood stops rushing around so rapidly.

Jotaro’s collapsed into the mattress, too exhausted to be concerned with how he looks now.

Kakyoin takes a moment to appreciate his work anyway.

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” he says after another minute.

Polnareff hasn’t said anything. Not a single word, nor a sound, but the look on his face says it all. “Very much so,” he answers after a beat, “Though I think I’ll leave you two to your privacy now.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Kakyoin answers, only halfway serious. He doubts he’ll be working on anything anytime soon. He has a very overdone husband to attend to, and he wouldn’t miss the cuddling for anything.

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen And Up

Summary: My interpretation of "I was a 15-year-old closet case whose parents pretended they didn’t notice when the family dog disappeared".

"A shallow grave. So much less than she deserves. But … I can’t breathe. I can’t even think. I’m running on autopilot and adrenaline alone. Everything is just - I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how I got here. I'm losing control. I can't - I can't even look at her. She's still wrapped in my sheets. I can see her bleeding. I still want it. I still want more.

Carry On Countdown, Day 7 - Animal @carryon-countdown​

Key Info: Inspired by this artwork by one of my fave artists on here @cynopoe​

TW: Slight Emetophobia Warning!! (Non Graphic. Final line of first paragraph, feel free to skip if you're concerned!) & Hemophobia Warning!! (This is a very Vampire-heavy fic, so unfortunately there is frequent mention of blood). I have both these phobias (Lol RIP me) and faint when I see them IRL, but this was fine for me to write so I don't think it should be anything too major. However, everyone's phobias are different so I wanted to give a heads up. Please be aware of these warnings before reading, and feel free to skip over this if it's not for you!

Tags: Heavy Angst, Angst, Biting, Blood Drinking, Mild Blood, Pain, Mordelia Trying To Be A Nice Sister, Baz’s Dog, BASICALLY I’M REALLY SORRY FOR THIS IDK WHAT DEMON MADE ME WRITE THIS, Big Sad,  Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 7

Words: 1,116

Baz

A shallow grave. So much less than she deserves. But … I can’t breathe. I can’t even think. I’m running on autopilot and adrenaline alone. Everything is just - I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how I got here. I'm losing control. I can't - I can't even look at her. She's still wrapped in my sheets. I can see her bleeding. I still want it. I still want more. My hands - I’m trying to dig but they won’t stop shaking. My stomach is churning, sick with the guilt, I have to - I stop and heave once more, the remnants of my crime splattering grimly on the dampened soil. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt her.

 The Change had started a week or so after I returned home from Watford. At first, it was nothing more than a minor irritant - A stinging in the sun, a bone-deep chill. But … it worsened. 

First, came the dryness of my throat. That unceasing thirst no amount of water could quench. And then, came the mind-clouding obsession. My every thought consumed by blood. The steady slog of it through my family’s vessels so distracting that I couldn’t so much as look at them - The people that I loved - without that incessant need to take. Their blood. Their life. Their everything. 

It wasn’t me, not really, but I couldn’t stop it - Couldn’t fight it. Frozen, weak and powerless, my humanity withering away before me as the monster took it’s hold. I didn’t know what to do - Didn’t know who to go to - and so … I hid. 

I thought that if I locked myself away and waited for the initial thirst to subside, that everyone would be safe. That I’d make it through without hurting anybody - Without losing myself. 

I didn’t know much about Vampirism, but I’d been assured that the effects were at their worst on initial onset. If I endured, it would become more manageable. If I bared it, I could live with it. I’d pinned all of my hopes on that promise, but it had let me down. 

Father had a key to my door - An emergency plan. If I needed it, he could lock me in. But I didn’t, I had it under control. I thought that I was alright. That I could make it. No matter how hazy or desperate I became, how thirsty I was, they were safe. Everyone was safe. And then … Mordelia tried to be kind. 

She couldn’t have realised what she was doing. She didn’t know (None of the children did). She just didn’t want me to be lonely anymore. And so … she let Dotty in. 

I tried to get her away from me, tried to get her out of my room. But she thought I was playing, so she just kept running and jumping up at me, tennis ball held happily in her mouth. She was so warm, and I was so weak. All I could see, and think, and feel, and hear was her - Every breath she took, every maddening thump of her heart. I couldn’t escape it. I’d craved it for so long, and here it was, trapped in a room with me. I didn’t - I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t know what happened. One second I was shoving her away from me, and the next, I’d done it. I’d bitten her. 

I’ll never be able to escape the echo of her cries. How she whimpered beneath me, high pitched and betrayed. The fragment of me that remained, screaming, begging it to stop, to just let her go, overpowered by the darkness. By the need.  

I couldn’t let go. I just kept biting and biting and biting, pushing my jaw harder against her flesh. Blood suffocating me with every move, tacky under my nails and dripping from the lengths of my hair. I didn’t even care. I couldn’t care. Finally … I was satiated. 

And so … Here I am. Slathered in mud and crimson, desperately trying to bury my beloved dog in the shallow pit I’ve scraped out of the ground. Trying to forget it. Trying to pretend that this is some sick, perverted nightmare - That I’ll wake up and be me again. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, not whoever did this. Not whatever did this. I cant - I won’t - I don’t …

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

When I make it back to the house, the sun is hanging fire in the sky. 

I don’t know how long it has been since I took her - 4 hours? 5? How many moments have I had to bear it so far? My mind is clearer now, but I’m still lost. It wasn’t me, it was … I don’t know. 

Daphne screams when she sees me, and Father comes racing down the stairs in a panic. I didn’t think about them being awake. I should’ve just waited. I should’ve just stayed hidden. I should’ve just stayed gone. But it’s too late now. He’s pushing her behind his body, shielding her with his presence. Protecting her from me. I can see the realisation dawn on his face as he takes me in - My unmistakably bloodied figure, her yellow-spotted collar still clutched in my muddied hands. Disgust. That’s what I see. Pure, unrelenting disgust at what I’ve done - What I’ve become. 

“Mother, Father, I didn’t - I didn’t mean to. Please, you have to believe me," I’m sobbing, chest rattling as I try to explain - Try to somehow absolve myself of their justified hatred. It’s sick. A truly disturbed little performance. But, they have to know. They mustn't think … “I wouldn’t hurt you - I wouldn’t hurt anybody - Anything. It was an accident. I tried to undo it. I tried to heal her, but my magic wouldn’t come, I was too … I didn’t have enough in me. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t-” 

With a lift of his hand, he silences me. “Go and clean yourself up, Basilton,” he says, voice flat and hollow. “We’ll deal with this later.” 

We won’t talk about it, I know. We’ll act like it never happened. But it did. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on pretending anymore. 

 Later, as I was scrubbing the shame from my body - Watching the whole diabolic night swirl down the plug, as I scoured my tainted skin raw. The reek of Copper and Dirt, poorly masked with lashings of Cedar and Bergamot - I heard the unmistakable locking of my door. A vicious creature finally confined to it’s cell. That final, damning confirmation. My own family - Scared of me. They can’t even trust me not to hurt them anymore (And neither can I). Not like this. Not with what I’ve become. One of them. Crowley, Mother would be so disappointed in me. 

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Alright HERE WE GO...SOME PRESS!

By which I mean, Tom King was on ComicPop discussing Supergirl! So we have CONTEXT AND BACKGROUND INFO! WOO!

Gonna get into it below, but my recommendation, as always: the best way to have an informed opinion is to get the info firsthand, so don’t just take my word for it! Go forth! Watch the thing! (Language advisory, though. There is some swearing.)

Okay. With that out of the way, LET’S GO!

Gonna lead off with a summary of the Supergirl bits, as they discuss a variety of things, from Strange Adventures to Batman/Catwoman to the canned New Gods project:

How Tom King came to be the writer of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow:

King’s longtime editor, Jaime Rich, was moved from the Bat books to the Super books. 

King, historically, likes to take on characters that ‘need help.’ He cites the example of Kirby who, upon coming to DC, asked what their lowest-selling title was, which is how he ended up on Jimmy Olsen.

So, when King asks which character needs help, Rich, to King: Supergirl. We have trouble selling that book.

King, describing Supergirl: ‘She’s singular in a way Mr. Miracle and Vision are not.’ Says that if you ask any four year old who Supergirl is, they know.

Editors asked him, ‘what’s your take? what are you gonna do with her?’

King then discusses the difference between his approach to Bat people vs. Super people.

Bat people: It’s a deconstruction approach. King brings up Kite Man from his Batman run. You tear the character down and build them back up, a la Dark Knight Returns

Super people: It’s not about deconstruction. Let them be themselves. They’re wonderful, let them be wonderful. 

But he does mention sort of stripping down the character to their purest form; he describes it as chiseling off the barnacles that have built up on the character, over the years.

Additionally, he says ‘evil doesn’t work for the Super family of characters.’

He mentions Superman: Up in the Sky. He says that there’s deep stuff in Up in the Sky, but the theme of every page is simply: Superman is awesome.

King: “I don’t want to make Kara mean or sad. I want to test her.”

The host compares ‘angry Kara’ stories to ‘evil Superman’ stories in that there are many of them, such to the point that people think Kara is relatable because she’s miserable and angry all the time. 

The host: I don’t get that.

(Same dude, same.)

King talked to Steve Orlando

They discussed the fact that Supergirl knew her planet; the people who died were her friends, family, classmates.

King summarizes Kara’s original Silver Age origin: she witnessed three huge, traumatic losses of life. First, when Krypton exploded. Then again when the Kryptonite started killing Argo residents, and then again when the meteorites destroyed the lead shielding that was keeping Argo safe. 

King: “That’s some f-ing trauma! I don’t know if you’ve read my books, but I love the trauma in characters.”

King thus describes Kara as world-weary, she swears, ‘she has seen some sh*t’.

On the new character, Ruthye:

She’s a child on a vengeance quest.

She’s named after King’s niece, Ruthie.

The pronunciation for the comic character, though, is Ruth-Eye.

One of his sons told him to add the ‘e’ on the end to make it look cooler.

Further discussion of Kara herself:

King noted that there’s sometimes a tendency to be very precious with the character.

King: ‘Let’s not be precious with Supergirl.’

This is not the story of a sixteen-year-old girl discovering the world; King says that Supergirl has been that sixteen-year-old for a long time now.

He describes it more as a move from Supergirl to Superwoman.

Art and Influences:

Talking about the red sun planet that Kara visits for her twenty-first birthday, King says he was reading a lot of Conan, which influenced the look of that portion of the story.

The impetus for getting Evely on the book: King said his editor emailed him, ‘Hey, how about Bilquis?’ King: “And I did a happy dance!”

Evely sent King a mood board of the types of things she wanted to draw; Moebius, Kirby, Wally Wood, landscapes in particular. 

Also, King says Evely is fast! She’s already halfway through the book, art-wise, and King is confident the book will release on time.

The host asked him, following up on King’s description of the book as a fantasy/western, ‘Is this True Grit?’

King: “It’s True Grit inspired. The novel AND the movie.”

If asked to give the Hollywood pitch: ‘It’s True Grit in space with Supergirl as Rooster Cogburn.’

Details about this book, as compared to Other Tom King titles:

He’s using captions on this comic--he’d thrown out captions as a storytelling device after Batman, but he found a ‘good voice’ for this comic.

King was prepared to do his usual twelve issues, but they said no one buys Supergirl comics, so it’s eight issues.

King says that Strange Adventures, Rorschach, and to a lesser extent, Batman/Catwoman, were written at a time when the world felt very apocalyptic.

He considers them to be angrier books; they are about what happens when evil is in our life, and how we deal with that.

Supergirl is the start of the ‘next generation’ of titles. 

It was written during the pandemic, but King hoped that by the time it was released, the pandemic and this very dark time in our history would be past.

He says it’s a ‘roaring 20s’ book. Not about anger, or trauma, it’s about stepping into the future and kicking a**. 

THUS CONCLUDES the Supergirl portion of the interview. 

Okay, so! Now that we’ve been objective and presented the information in a straightforward, unbiased manner...SOME THOUGHTS AND OPINONS!

The thing I was most curious about was how King got the book, so I was EXTREMELY PLEASED to get the full story.

This wasn’t like. King desperately wanting to do a Supergirl book, nor was it DC coming to King like, ‘Take Supergirl!’

Sadly, it was, ‘which book needs the most help right now? In the Superman lineup?’

He even said that Supergirl was kind of just sitting around, no one was doing anything with her/there were no plans.

(So the idea that King stole this opportunity from a woman is not true. There were NO PLANS.)

(Also it’s not based on the FS stuff, I suspect they gave the FS team some ideas from his pitch to work with, as that entire event was sort of a stop-gap/fill-in as they hurried to relaunch their line.) 

Anyways!

My initial thought that this is DC’s attempt to sell some dang Supergirl books? Not that far off! XD

Boy, I hope it works.

(Important to note: This is not news. Supergirl has historically always sold poorly. I’ve heard from actual Supergirl writers that the trades do not sell, which is a huge problem.

So King, who is KNOWN for having really good trade sales, is as solid a gamble as they could probably hope for.

He said Superman: Up in the Sky is his third best-selling trade. A WAL-MART BOOK! Is just behind Vision and Mr. Miracle!

Basically: If this doesn’t work, I don’t know that anything will.) 

As for the specifics of King’s take in particular!

Again...I really want to see it, before I pass judgement on it.

I liked the Andreyko run! And that was pretty edgy! 

Also, we have never seen a twenty-something Kara, post-Crisis. She’s always been a teenager. Thus I’m pretty willing to go along with this approach because it’s entirely new territory.

And it does seem like King is enjoying leaning into the idea of a Super who swears and kicks butt and is just a little ‘done’ with it all.

It might not mesh with my ideal Kara but again. I need to see it, before I come to any firm conclusions. 

Honestly the thing that gives me the most pause? Is that King says this book really focuses on Supergirl, not Kara, which is a more recent identity for her.

(That is somewhat true! The ‘Kara Danvers’ identity is wholly new to the show; she’s always been Linda Lee, Linda Danvers, Kara Kent, or Linda Lang, when she has a secret identity. Sometimes she doesn’t.)

(Also of note: Tom pronounces it ‘Care-a’, like the cartoon.)

(PERSONALLY I like KAHr-a, like in the show, because it creates a phonetic consistency with ‘KAHl-el’ but that’s not really relevant to a comic book. You can mentally pronounce it however you choose! XD)

So, yeah, I like the Kara Danvers part of her identity, I like earth-bound Supergirl stories, but. This isn’t that. Which I’ll need to make peace with, I guess. XD

Otherwise? Tell me a story, Mr. King. Even if I hate it, Evely will draw it beautifully, Lopes will color it masterfully, and that’s half the battle, right there. 

I’m sad King didn’t mention the Gates/Igle run! But I also understand he’s probably been looking at more recent stuff; those Gates/Igle comics are fifteen years old, oh man, oh geez, how are they that old already.

King did confirm that this is 100% in-continuity, and will affect the character going into the future.

But, IDK, given the sort of. Grim beginnings of how this book came to be, what with the reminder that the Supergirl title doesn’t sell well...who knows what the future will look like, for Kara!

I stand by my guess that Kara will graduate to ‘Superwoman’ and the Supergirl mantle will pass to someone else, maybe Ruthye? She might be a bit young, though.

Mmm. What else, what else?

Oh, this is pretty funny, IMO: when King first teased the new character, Ruthye, a bunch of SG fans rushed to google to see if there was any clue as to like. What it could mean.

And they freaked out over some obscure connection where that name appears but hey, turns out! It’s just a made up name! Based on King’s niece!

It’s funny because SG fans never learn, man. Just chill out, read the dang book, then get all upset and huff and puff and blow your twitter house down.

They briefly mentioned the Peter David run; King said the PAD stuff was great.

He’s already teased that ‘treat’ and, okay. Time for some rumination on that specifically.

I’ve read the whole PAD run. It wasn’t my cup of tea, I don’t really like the DnD, angels and demons stuff. Also, it wasn’t Kara; it’s an entirely different character who uses the name ‘Supergirl.’

Also, stuff from that run didn’t age well.

And on top of that, PAD turned out to be...kind of a jerk! As so many folks in the comic industry are.

There’s also...an extremely weird, mean-spirited vibe through the whole back half of the run; I thought maybe I was imagining it at the time, but I recently went back to “Many Happy Returns”, the final story arc of the title, and David’s introduction in the trade...it doesn’t read like a guy who was in it for the love of the character, you know?

All of which to say! I’m not excited about connections to the PAD stuff. 

But I know a lot of fans who love that run, love that version of the character.

So like. Eh! Not for me, but to the folks who enjoy it, I hope it’s cool/fun, whatever it is.

(Still think it’ll be a variant or an easter egg or something, but we’ll see.)

(Oh, hmmm! Evely *did* post a WIP of like. Some creepy skull gate that they presumably encounter...hmmmmm.)

Okay, this is crazy long, and there’s no fun art or anything to go with it--OR IS THERE?!?!?!

BOOM. From Bilquis Evely’s twitter today. (GO. FOLLOW. HER. FOR THE GOOD ART.)

(LIKE!!! I look at this and I just! Can’t! Bring myself to not be hyped as all heck! LOOK AT THIS! AND iT’S JUST THE PENCILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

God, wish that Supergirl sold better, so we could get a full year of this. HNNNNGGGGGGG.

Oh! That was another thing King discussed in detail; that 8 is way different from his usual 12, in terms of pacing and story. The beats fall at different places (obviously) so it was a bit of a challenge for him.

Actually, now that I’m thinking about it...maybe 8 will be good. Issue 10 just dropped for Strange Adventures, and wow, it has felt LONG. (I mean, the last four? Three? issues are also bi-monthly so that doesn’t help but. Still.)

(Superman: Up in the Sky was twelve issues but half the length, because it was a Wal-Mart book, so it was more like six.)

OKAY! For real, I’ve gone on long enough. XD 

SOON. Soon. June 15th, to be exact. Mark yer calendars!

[bjy-on-ao3]

Kinktober Day 29

(As before, you can find a link to the AO3 version of this and the rest of my Kinktober 2020 prompts on the ‘Masterlist’ section of the blog.)

Originally this was gonna be a more conventional form of sensory deprivation, but I wanted to set it more apart from ‘Blindfold’ earlier on. Besides, Solomon is a sorcerer, so why not use some magic for the sensory deprivation? Also, I don’t really know what kind of magic Solomon uses so I’m winging that as well.

Content following contains rather dubious consent. If you’re not comfortable with that, please do not read further.

Kinktober Day 29: Sensory Deprivation (Solomon | Obey Me!)

When Solomon sent you a text asking for your assistance testing a new spell you jumped at the opportunity. You had fancied the witty sorcerer since almost the first time you had met, even if sometimes he seemed to come off a little too sly. You just attributed that as part of his charm, all things considered, though perhaps you should have questioned why you overlooked it so easily. Most of the brothers didn’t seem keen on you spending alone time with Solomon, save for Asmodeus, whose only caveat was that he also be included in that alone time.

Maybe you should have heeded all the suspicions and warnings on their part. Then again, none of the residents of Purgatory Hall seemed bothered by Solomon, nor were Lord Diavolo or Barbatos. Perhaps the warnings of the brothers were just veiled jealously? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to miss out on the chance to spend some time with Solomon, whether or not you were a guinea pig. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t fix anything gone wrong, given his magical talents, right?

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

You managed to slip away from the constant affection of - or denials in some cases - from the brothers after class, finding Solomon apart from the crowd of demons and walking alongside him. The ash haired sorcerer seemed cheery as usual, greeting you with a warm smile and ‘hello’ and inviting you to come with him. As you walked, he explained what exactly his experimental spell was meant to do, though not exactly what it was for.

It was something to do with the deprivation of senses. All at once, or just one or two at one’s discretion. Your first thought was that it might be helpful for study or focus, especially back at home at the House where tuning out loud noises could be especially helpful. Your second thought was why would he have much use for it when Purgatory Hall wasn’t generally the most uproarious place. Help sleeping maybe? You dropped the train of thought and focused back on Solomon’s explanation.

“Can you go ahead and kneel here for me?” Solomon asked, gesturing to the center of a rune adorned circle.

You raised a brow for a second at the various runes, able to decipher one or two, but overall not gaining much. You did as instructed, sitting down in the center, folding your calves beneath your backside and waiting for more instruction. You briefly wondered exactly how complicated a spell it was that required so much physical medium.

“Good. Now don’t move,” Solomon added, his face taking on a look of concentration.

You waited for a moment, not noticing much difference, at least by sight. Yet the growing feeling of something in the air was almost palpable and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Solomon waved his hand down through the air, fingertips brushing over your face. The first thing he touched was your eyes, a void-like blackness engulfing your vision and you fought to remain calm.

Next, you felt a single digit stray across your nose and just like that smell was gone as well. Loss of smell was a bit more familiar, almost like being congested but without any of the unpleasantness. It was far easier to tolerate than sudden blindness. Your lips came next and you found you couldn’t even taste the inside of your mouth anymore. Just like your sense of smell, it felt almost like having a cold, no smell, no taste, but more extreme and less uncomfortable. The sensation made you scrunch up your face for a moment.

The final touch was to your ears and every tiny sound around you fell away as if put on mute. The sound of your breathing, the electricity humming in the walls, the distant chatter from other residents of the Hall, all was gone. Robbed of every other sense, you felt as if your sense of touch was supercharged. Yet your skin also felt bare at the same time. You could certainly feel but not the rub of clothing against your skin anymore, not a single shred of it. In fact, the blackness you stared into felt rather cold and you wondered if it was a side effect of the spell.

For a time you sat in the magical silence and darkness, distracting yourself by contemplating how you were going to relay all of this to Solomon when the spell was reversed. Would you test each deprivation one-by-one later on? Was testing them all at once the best option to start? What about your sense of touch? Would that be suppressed as well at some point?

Your musings were shattered by the touch of something warm on the back of your neck and you stiffened at first. The touch was soft, whatever it was pliant but insistent, interrupted by something even hotter and wet. There was something familiar about the sensation that you couldn’t quite place, but after the initial shock, it felt… nice. The warm and sometimes slick touch crawled across your skin, traveling down the back of your neck to your jawline, your collarbone, and finally over your shoulders and down your back. Sometimes the feeling was a single, long, wet line, at others it was frequent, scattered and lacking the wetness.

Sudden firm pressure on the small of your back knocked you off balance and you flailed forward, landing on your hands, bracing yourself on your palms, your rear held in the air. Your brow crinkled as you tried to place the sensation. That had almost certainly been a hand. Solomon was the only one in the room, wasn’t he? So it was obviously his doing. But what was he doing? What part of the spell required knocking you over to test? Your concern was lost again to thought and confusion. You tried to speak, feeling the words but not hearing them, “Solomon? What’s going on? What’s happ-”

Your thoughts and questions were scattered again into nothingness when the warm, wet sensation from before stroked you much lower, past your ass and along the lips of your cunt, teasing the exterior. But how? You had been dressed. Had you been correct when it felt like you were no longer wearing anything? Was that part of the spell, too? You hadn’t the focus to think on it much, but it suddenly struck you what the sensation of warmth and wetness was. A tongue. Either the lack of senses had you hallucinating on an unheard-of level or Solomon hadn’t been truthful about his reason for asking you over. Somehow, you didn’t find yourself unsettled by either. In fact, the idea that it was Solomon just made heat pool between your thighs, adding to the slickness of the tongue. 

You ground back against the sensation, mouth opening and feeling a moan rattle up your throat, but hearing nothing as it burst past your lips. A part of you registered just how strange that was in itself, but was quickly silenced as the probing tongue slipped past your folds and inside. The warm, harsh feeling of a palm encompassed one breast, tweaking the nipple almost painfully. The hard stroke of something over your clit sent more of the unheard groans rolling through you, almost overwhelming.

Shamefully aroused just by imagining Solomon had lured you over to ravage you - despite under pretenses - it didn’t take long before your body was set on edge. Wracked with shudders and strung tight and needy, your hips pitched back and forth between the hot thrust into your cunt and the firm caress on your clit. You were surprised at the intensity of the orgasm that burst over you, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

The greedy touch of lips joined the probing tongue, drinking in the wetness dripping over your thighs and you shivered again, a weak, soundless whimper vibrating through you. Abruptly, all touch left you, even the hand kneading your chest, and you were left panting into the blind darkness, wondering what came next. The emptiness and silence seemed to stretch on forever, though you wondered if it had only been seconds.

You almost squeaked when, adjusting to the absence of touch, your legs were spread open further and your cunt with them. Devoid of the hot stroke of the lips and tongue from before, the air on your overheated folds made you whine. Your discomfort was short-lived, however, as the pair of hands readjusted to hold the curve of your hips in a vice grip. Something hot, thick, and hard prodded at your slit for a moment before sinking so deep inside you found yourself cursing wordlessly into the void, back arching.

From the rigid, yet velvety feeling there was little mistaking the intrusion for what it was and it made the fire in your blood crackle and roar. The hard slap of hips against your ass when the hardness ebbed away and filled you up all over again further confirmed your suspicious. Again and again, the thickness retreated, leaving you empty and whimpering silently, only to elicit another desperate silent moan or swear when it returned. It was your turn to add to the smoldering in your belly, becoming slowly tight as a spring, abandoning the support of one arm and reaching blindly for your clit.

You rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves feverishly, trying to stay in time with the relentless thrusts from behind. You continued to shout and cry out, abandoning all reason to the pleasure, but you had no idea of your volume. Whispering, screaming, you had no clue - though by the ache of your throat you imagined it the latter. The notion that it was Solomon ravishing you held you surely in its grasp and frenzied keens of the sorcerer’s name joined the screams.

Devoid of sight or sound or scent, your head conjured up replacements. You could almost see the lurid flush of red across his cheeks, sweat beading on his brow and face twisting in bliss. Thinking of the sound of him moaning and huskily whispering filthy words into your ear set you on edge further, your cunt clamping down around the intrusion. Even imagining the heavy, musky smell of sweat and sex and the taste of salt on your tongue made your arousal surge.

Spurred to heights by the only sense you had left and the fantasies created to make up for the lack of the others, you were cumming again already. “Solomon, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you crooned, back arching and toes curling so hard it hurt.

The rock of hips against your backside intensified, a primal counterpoint to the pulse of your heart and cunt and the waves of bliss rolling over you. Each hard thrust sent an aftershock of pleasure through you until their force began to falter. At last, the thick intrusion sank the deepest inside yet, a flood of wet heat filling you. It retreated, the sensation of emptiness returned accented by the dripping of a thick warmth oozing down your thighs.

Your arms and legs quivered as you set your hand back down, needing all the strength that remained to keep from collapsing onto your belly. As the buzz of pleasure ebbed into lingering, pleasant tingles, a full body ache took its place, your cunt and hips especially sore. Lacking any other sense it made both feelings all the more intense.

One-by-one, your other senses flickered back to life in the opposite order in which you had ‘lost’ them. When you opened your eyes, you had to blearily blink and try to clear your vision. Whether a lingering side effect of the spell or simply due to lack of use you weren’t sure. Your body still ached, but no longer did you feel the sticky, hot liquid on your thighs or the cool air on your skin. Glancing at yourself, you saw you were redressed in your RAD uniform as if it had never been missing. You frowned in confusion, sitting shakily back up on your knees.

“How was it?” Solomon’s smooth voice asked curiously, tone sounding completely innocent.

You looked up at his expectant expression. Had everything been just an incredibly vivid hallucination brought on by the lack of senses? Had your sense of touch also been gone and your imagining was just that strong?

“Did something go wrong? Your face is all red,” he added, arching a brow.

“I-uh…” You tapered off, wondering if you should explain or make an excuse.

“I need to know every detail if I’m going to perfect the spell, you know.”

The tone of mischief that colored his voice with his insistence and the glint in his dark eyes had you questioning once more if it had all been just your imagination.

[mikauzoran]

Lady Noir/Platonic Alyadrien: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Six

Read it on AO3: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Six: The Confession

“Your girlfriend is trying to call you,” Plagg noted lazily from his comfy nest in Adrien’s sock drawer.

Adrien stopped in the middle of practicing Chopin’s Ballade No. 2 in F major to look up curiously at his kwami. “Marinette is?”

Plagg had been teasing Adrien about Marinette supposedly being his girlfriend almost as long as they’d known her, and Adrien had long ago given up on getting Plagg to stop.

“No,” Plagg replied disinterestedly. “The other one.”

Adrien blinked, momentarily confused. At first, he thought Plagg was being sarcastic. It took his brain a second to process that Plagg really did mean the other one.

“Wait. What? Ladybug?!” Adrien rose from the piano bench hastily, nearly tipping it over backwards. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m saying something right now,” Plagg yawned, giving a decidedly feline stretch, arching his spine before settling back into the sock pile.

“Sooner,” Adrien groaned. “Plagg, transform me.”

The call had already gone to voicemail by the time Adrien’s transformation sequence ended, but he wasted no time in calling her back.

“Sorry. Plagg didn’t tell me you were calling right away,” he spit out in a rush. “What’s wrong, My Lady? Akuma?”

“Oh,” Ladybug’s voice came out startled and uncertain. “Sorry. No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Chat Noir frowned, picking up on her unease and nervousness. “Are you sure? You sound a little flustered, Buguinette.”

“What?” she laughed awkwardly, her tone sounding forced. “No. I’m not flustered. I just…”

Chat could swear he heard someone in the background whisper, “Deep breath. It’s just Chat Noir. You’ve got this.”

“Ladybug, is someone there with you?” His thoughts swung rapidly between “kidnapper” and “another man”.

“Sorry,” Ladybug sighed and then made herself inhale slowly. “It’s just my friend. Look. I’m really sorry to bother you, Chat Noir, but are you busy? Would you be able to meet up and talk for, like, twenty minutes?”

Chat looked back to his piano and smiled bitterly, knowing no one would be in to check on him until it was time for breakfast at the very earliest.

“No worries, My Lady,” he assured, injecting a warmth into his voice that dispelled the chill of his empty room. “I can meet up. Just say where.”

Ladybug bit her lip, considering for a moment before tentatively inquiring, “Do you remember a long time ago that night you planned that romantic rooftop picnic surprise for me?”

Taken aback that she even remembered, he didn’t reply right away. When he did, his voice was soft and a little unsteady. “Sure. Yeah. I—uh—yeah. I remember. I’m surprised that you do, honestly.”

She pursed her lips and looked down at her spotted feet. “I’ve never forgotten that night,” she replied sadly. “See you there in a bit?”

“Yeah,” he promised. “See you there.”

 When he arrived ten minutes later, she was pacing the rooftop in question, talking to herself and gesticulating wildly with her arms.

“Practicing a speech?” he chuckled fondly as he soundlessly touched down on the railing.

Ladybug jumped, squeaked, and would have fallen over backwards if she hadn’t pinwheeled her arms to somehow regain her balance.

“Ack!” she squawked, eyes round like marbles.

He couldn’t help an affectionate laugh at her expense as he shook his head at her antics.

She cleared her throat and attempted to reclaim some semblance of an air of dignity. “Sorry. Yes. I was practicing a speech…in a way.”

Chat nodded, easily accepting her vague response. “I’m sure you’ll do great when you give it. So. What’s up? What was it you needed to talk to me about?”

Ladybug took what was probably her tenth deep breath of the evening.

“I’m in love with you!” came out with the exhale, shrill and squeaky and not at all how she had intended to broach the subject.

Chat’s luminescent eyes went wide in shock for a moment before settling into abject confusion.

Meanwhile, Ladybug clapped both hands over her mouth, emitted a high-pitched noise, and stared at him in terror.

“Sorry,” he replied carefully. “What did you say?”

That seemed to break the spell, causing Ladybug to groan and look away.

“I am so sorry,” she quickly apologized to the roof shingles. “That is not what I meant to say. Ignore me. I’m sorry. I’m such a mess.”

“It’s okay,” he granted magnanimously, trying to contain the confusion and pain and elation bubbling up inside of him. “Just…start over. Please.”

She sighed gravely. “I was talking to a friend of mine, and she made me realize I’d screwed up, Chat Noir. I’d really, really screwed up.”

“Mistakes can be fixed,” he comforted, lowering himself off of the railing and onto the roof proper. “Tell me about it. Maybe we can figure this out together.”

She held out her hand to him, and he crossed the roof, readily taking it and giving it a squeeze.

She tugged him down to sit on the roof with her and shot a brave smile his way.

He returned it patiently, revealing no external sign of the maelstrom of emotions he was feeling inside.

“Chat Noir, you know you’re one of the most important people in my life, don’t you?” she started softly, searching his face.

His emerald eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t look unduly surprised.

“I knew I was pretty important to you,” he confessed. “I mean, you’ve told me before how much our friendship means to you and that I’m irreplaceable, so I knew I was important, but I was never vain enough to think I could score a top spot.”

She gave a little snort. “Please. You’re easily top five.”

“You do me a great honor, My Lady,” he chuckled, giving her hand another squeeze. “I’m happy to say that you made my top five too.”

It became easier for her to smile at that. “Thanks, Chaton. So…you know I care about you deeply and that I’d never hurt you on purpose.” There was a hint of a question in her voice as she glanced up at him for confirmation.

“Of course,” he affirmed.

She took a breath and blew it out, her brow crinkling in disquietude as she looked down at their joined hands. “I was talking to a friend tonight, and she brought it to my attention that even though I’ve been telling you for years that I could only be friends and partners with you, I may have been unintentionally leading you on with my actions.” She looked up at him again. “Chat Noir, have I ever done or said something that made you think that I had changed my mind about just being friends?”

This time, he looked away, forehead furrowing, cat ears flattening. “I…No…. I…”

“Please be honest with me,” she begged. “I kind of need to know if I’ve done something to give you the wrong idea. I never meant to play with your feelings like that.”

“I know,” he sighed softly, training his eyes on the little row of chimneys not far off in the middle distance. “I know you didn’t mean it, but…yeah. Your friend was right,” he begrudgingly admitted. “It seems like every time I’m about ready to give up on you for real, you’ll do or say something that gives me just enough hope to make it another couple weeks, another few months, another year.”

She inhaled audibly, a sharp little gasp, and her grip on his hand tightened. “I am so, so sorry, Chat Noir,” she breathed, seemingly struggling to draw air into her lungs. “I didn’t mean—”

“—No,” he cut her off, turning to meet her gaze intently. “Ladybug, don’t. It’s not your fault. You explicitly told me about the other guy and how you only felt platonic love for me. I’m the idiot who took the things you said and did the wrong way even after you were extremely clear about where we stood with each other. Don’t blame yourself, Buguinette. This is on me,” he assured, gently, smiling with warmth, affection, and clemency as he raised her hand to his lips. “Don’t worry about it. I always knew deep down that you didn’t have feelings for me. It was stupid to let myself think otherwise for even a second, but…you know me. Always thinking with my heart rather than my head.”

She couldn’t help the way heat rose up in her cheeks unbidden at his touch, staining her face red like a sunset.

Her heart flipped as his lips brushed the back of her hand. Even though the pressure was much too light to be felt through the suit, it tingled all the way up her arm.

She swallowed hard. “About that…”

He quirked an eyebrow, waiting patiently for her to go on.

She bit her lip, prefacing, “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

His eyes narrowed slightly in puzzlement. “…But…?” he prompted.

She gulped again. “I don’t see a future for us as a couple with things the way they are, and you can’t change my mind about that, so don’t even try. There are so many reasons we can’t be together right now; plus, I’m still in love with the other guy, and I think I’m finally about to make some progress, so…”

His features became more and more perplexed as she went on and he struggled to follow where the conversation was going. “…So?” he urged her to continue.

“So we can only be friends while Papillon is at large and we have a job to do, secret identities to protect,” she summarized, gathering up her courage to reiterate what she had initially blurted out at the beginning of the conversation. “And I don’t want us putting our lives on hold until this is all over. It’s not fair, and it’s not healthy. We deserve happiness and love now.”

Chat nodded in agreement, remembering what Alya had told Adrien about letting go of his feelings for Ladybug and moving on so that he could live life to the fullest in the present.

“So, what are you saying?” he inquired curiously, still not sure what exactly they were talking about or why.

She looked at him with determination burning in her cornflower eyes. “I’m saying that I do have feelings for you,” she revealed, voice gentle and warm.

He inhaled long and slow as his eerie green eyes went wide, stretching the edges of his mask along with them.

“I realized it about six years ago,” she explained wistfully. “You’re wonderful, Chat Noir. You’re one of the best, most amazing people I know. How could I not fall for you?” she laughed at herself.

His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, half-formed questions dying on his lips as new ones sprang forth and withered in rapid succession.

Ladybug shook her head sadly. “I love you, Chat Noir, and I’m afraid my feelings have been slipping through the cracks, even though I’ve tried so hard to keep them hidden. I’m afraid I’ve been giving you false hope because, even though I love you, Chat Noir, nothing can ever come of it.”

His brow furrowed with choler, and he opened his mouth once more to protest, but she gave him a pleading look and squeezed his hand.

“Not now. Not like this,” she entreated. “Not with secret identities in the way. Not while a romantic relationship could get in the way of our teamwork and affect our performance.”

He paled as the logic behind her words set in.

She smiled lachrymosely. “I’d like to think that we’d be perfect romantic partners and never fight or even have disagreements, but…I know that’s not realistic, and I’m afraid we wouldn’t be able to set personal matters aside in battle. I’m scared we’d let our romantic relationship distract us, and we’d be a split second too late in reacting. You know how split seconds often make the difference between victory and getting blasted off the plain of existence. We can’t risk it. Not while we’ve still got a job to do, people’s lives depending on us.”

He dropped his head, his shoulders, ears, and tail drooping in defeat as he let out a weary sigh. “I wish I could say something to change your mind, but…deep down, I know you’re right, My Lady,” he grumbled in emotional exhaustion. “I already let my feelings distract me in battle enough as it is; I know being in a relationship with you wouldn’t do anything to help the problem.”

He looked up at her with baleful, watery eyes. “This just sucks so much because we would be epic together.”

“Yeah,” she laughed through her own tears, giving his hand a squeeze in solidarity. “We really would be…. Maybe we will someday.”

His eyes widened, his breath catching as hope flowed back into him. “You mean…?”

“Maybe, when this is all over and I’m just me and you’re just you…maybe we’ll both be single, and maybe it will finally be time for us,” she replied, giving the thought form and sending it out into the universe.

“Yeah,” he whispered, praying that that day would come soon.

She took a deep breath and seemed to regain her composure. “Until then, though, we shouldn’t cheat ourselves out of the present moment.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as if pulled suddenly out of a dream.

“I mean, we should try to be happy, give other people a chance.” She shot him a teasing grin. “Like that girl you talk about sometimes? Your cute, compassionate friend?”

“Oh,” Chat chuckled, cheeks turning crimson around his mask. “Yeah. My one friend has really been pushing the idea of me asking her on a date. I guess my crush really isn’t all that subtle, is it?”

“Nope,” she snickered. “You’re obviously into her, and she sounds like a good person. If it can’t be me, I want you to be with someone who treats you right and makes you happy. She sounds sweet.”

“She is,” he affirmed with a smitten grin as he averted his eyes, thinking of Marinette’s laugh.

“Ask her on a date, then,” she urged, nudging his arm playfully with her own.

“Okay. But what about you and your mystery guy?” he pressed, reasoning that turnabout was fair play. “Are you finally going to tell him how you feel? I want you to be happy too, Buguinette.”

She bit her lip, mentally going over her recent decision to give up on Adrien…for what was probably the fortieth time.

“I don’t know,” she responded pensively, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’m pretty sure he’ll tell me he just sees me as a friend, but…I’ve wasted so much time fretting and planning elaborate scenarios with which to confess my feelings…maybe I just need to go up to him and say, ‘Hey. I like you. Would you want to go on a date and see how it goes?’ It seems stupid to give up without ever telling him, and it seems pointless to waste any more time stressing, so…”

“So, walk up to him, tell him he’s hot, and ask him to go get coffee with you,” Chat coached. “No big deal.”

“No big deal, he says,” Ladybug snorted.

“It isn’t,” he stressed. “You’re the one making it into this seven-year-long soap opera of unrequited love and evil twins and aliens and all that garbage. Tell the guy you’re interested and move on if he says no.”

She arched an intrigued eyebrow at him. “Do you watch soap operas?”

Chat rolled his eyes, grumbling, “Plagg watches trashy TV, and I’ve picked up some things.”

She gave a snort of amusement. “Tikki likes rom coms.”

“Can we switch?” he begged, giving her the sad kitten eyes. “Please?”

“Pft. Nope. My kwami is objectively better.” She stuck out her tongue playfully.

He contemplated crossing his arms and sulking, but that would necessitate letting go of her hand, and he was not keen on the idea.

“Mean,” he accused petulantly instead.

She giggled, and he shortly thereafter joined her, their combined laughter creating a lovely duet.

The moment eventually passed, leaving them smiling contentedly at one another, hands still joined, hearts feeling much lighter.

“…Is it horrible of me?” he tentatively broke the silence. “I want you to be happy and loved, of course. You deserve that, but…I’m really hoping that we defeat Papillon in the next year or two and that you won’t be in a relationship at that point. I’m so selfish,” he scoffed at himself, averting his eyes in shame and starting to pull his hand away.

She squeezed it tighter as she leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “It’s okay to be selfish sometimes,” she assured as she pulled back, smiling like a lighthouse beam in the fog.

He stared at her for a moment in wonder before a warm smile spread across his lips once more. “Thanks.”

“…Are we okay?” she asked, suddenly unsure. “I’m sorry to spring all this on you, but…when my friend told me earlier I had been leading you on, I felt sick, and she convinced me to put my cards on the table and clear up the misunderstanding. I would have lost my nerve if she hadn’t made me call you then and there.”

“No worries.” He waved away her concern with a genuine grin. “This was good. A lot, but good. Necessary. It was good for me to get some closure and real hope instead of all of the uncertainty of the last few years.”

She winced, guilt hitting her all over again like that construction worker whose arms had been turned into wrecking balls when he’d been akumatized the previous summer. “I am so sorry I did that to you.”

“No worries,” he repeated, leaning in to give her temple a whisper of a kiss. “It’s all in the past…but mind telling me who this illustrious friend of yours is so that I can thank her personally? I feel like I need to get her a nice gift basket at least to express my eternal gratitude.”

“O-Oh.” Ladybug stiffened, her ears beginning to turn rosy. “Well…um…Alya Césaire.”

He blinked, completely taken aback that she had actually told him. He’d mostly been kidding, but… “Wait. Like…Alya from the Ladyblog?”

“I accidentally got a little drunk last week and crashed into her balcony on my way home, and she was really cool about it, so now we’re kind of friends,” Ladybug rushed to explain in a single breath.

Chat Noir continued to blink in surprise.

“I don’t know. Just, today, she kind of pounced on me out of nowhere about me leading you on, and she was adamant that I tell you the truth so that you could make peace with your feelings for me and move on. So…yeah,” she finished lamely with a helpless shrug.

“Oh,” he replied loquaciously.

“Yeah,” she repeated.

“Cool,” he added, sensing that his previous response had not been adequate.

He tried not to think about what the odds were that Alya would randomly, apropos of nothing, tell Ladybug to clear up the whole leading-Chat-Noir-on-situation shortly after Adrien had admitted to Alya that Ladybug had been leading him on for years.

Mentally, Chat cursed in French, English, Chinese, Russian, Japanese, and Italian.

Italian didn’t go very well because he wasn’t completely clear on what exactly the words he knew meant, only that the person being sworn at in Italian had not done an adequate job according to Gabriel Agreste’s standards.

He figured that was close enough for his purposes at the moment.

“Alya’s cool,” he elaborated. “Very trustworthy.”

“Definitely,” Ladybug chuckled with a fond smile, and Chat calmed down somewhat, deciding to worry about possible secret identity exposure later.

Then and there, he was with the woman he loved, and she loved him in return. True, things weren’t perfect because they couldn’t be together just yet, but a new sense of hope and optimism that he hadn’t felt the equal of in years welled up within him, letting him enjoy the moment.

He gave her hand a squeeze and scooted in close to rest his head on top of hers as they sat there together, peacefully gazing up at the heavens.

 Alya was just finishing up her article when a tentative tap came at her balcony door.

She frowned and grabbed her phone, thinking that she’d missed a text from Marinette.

She’d called as soon as she’d gotten home from talking to Chat Noir, and they’d spent nearly an hour picking through all of the details, returning again and again to the romantic way the two heroes had held hands the entire time.

“It was so wonderful, Alya,” Marinette gushed. “Just having that connection, feeling like he was my lifeline and we were in this together.”

There were no texts from Marinette announcing her intention to pay Alya a visit.

Eyes narrowed in apprehension, she grabbed the lamp off of her desk and slowly approached the sliding glass door.

She threw back the curtain and came face to face with a rather surprised-looking Chat Noir, his hand raised to gently knock again.

Alya blinked.

Chat Noir returned the gesture, and then his eyes went to the lamp in Alya’s hand. His eyebrow slowly gained elevation.

He cleared his throat uncertainly. “Um…Good evening. Sorry to startle you?”

Alya smiled sheepishly, setting the lamp down and unlocking the door. “Chat Noir. Hi. Sorry. Just…never hurts to be cautious.”

“Were you expecting a burglar on the fourth story?” he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Usually, it’s an akuma,” she sighed, stepping out of his way and beckoning him in.

“Oh,” he whispered as the lamp suddenly seemed less ridiculous. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” she assured. “Come in.”

He hesitated, toing the floor of her balcony nervously with the tip of his boot. “Actually…I don’t think I need to come in. I don’t want to take up much of your time, but…Ladybug and I had a talk earlier tonight, and she said that it was at your insistence, so I really wanted to thank you, because I cannot even begin to describe to you what it means to me to have that kind of closure, so…”

He bit the inside of his cheek, mentally chiding himself to stop rambling. “Sorry. I’ll get to the point. I was just wondering if you knew…?” He tipped his head to the side, struggling to summon up the words. “Earlier, did I accidentally…?”

Alya watched him fidget for a moment before it finally dawned on her what he was on about.

She smiled affectionately and rolled her eyes. “Adrien…get in here.”

“Oh,” he squeaked. “Shoot.”

She gave her eyes another roll, took him by the elbow, and forcibly manhandled Paris’s second favourite superhero into her bedroom. “Get in here you adorkosaurus and tell me about your romantic rooftop heart-to-heart with Ladybug,” she chuckled, pulling him in and tugging the curtain closed behind him.

“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” he sighed, letting his transformation drop.

She gave him “the look” and then motioned for him to flop down on her bed. “Cupcake, I’m not even going to tell Marinette,” she snorted as she went back to her desk.

“How did you figure it out?” he sighed, collapsing into Alya’s throw pillows.

“It was the fact that you knew Ladybug well enough to confess your love and be turned down by her over the course of several years…and then I may have interrogated her about people who had confessed their undying love,” Alya summarized.

“Well played,” Adrien granted. “Ladybug is going to be so disappointed in me.”

“Don’t tell her,” Alya instructed, cutting the Gordian knot.

He started to argue. “But—”

“—Just don’t,” she interrupted. “I’m not telling anyone. I’d cut my tongue out first. You’re safe. Paris is safe. Ladybug is better off not knowing.”

“I like her,” Plagg snickered, floating over to land on Alya’s desk next to her mousepad. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Alya blinked at the flying cat demon. “I’m guessing you’re his kwami? I’m Alya. Nice to meet you.”

“Plagg,” Plagg supplied. “Charmed, I’m sure. Do you have any cheese?”

“Plagg,” Adrien groaned. “You are the worst houseguest.”

Five minutes later, Plagg was happily distracted with the remnants of a wheel of Brie that Alya was fairly certain no one was planning on eating, and Adrien and Alya were free to continue their discussion.

“Just. Don’t. Tell. Her,” Alya reemphasized.

Adrien frowned uncertainly. “Do you really think that’s okay?”

“It’s for the best,” she assured. “Trust me. I care about you, Sunshine, and Ladybug is my friend too, so please believe that I have the best intentions in my heart when I say just don’t mention it.”

Adrien pursed his lips, weighing his options. “Well…if you’re the only one who knows and you don’t plan on telling anyone…I guess there’s no real harm done.”

“Precisely. And I’ve already been helpful to both you and Ladybug because I knew your identity, haven’t I?” she coaxed. “This is a good thing.”

A bright, sappy smile broke out on Adrien’s lips as he thought back to his Lady’s confession. Warmth and a sense of lightness again flooded his chest.

“I can’t find it within myself to disagree,” he confessed with a giddy laugh. “Thank you, Alya.”

“Hey, us bros look out for one another,” she chuckled, saving her article and shutting down her laptop for the night before swinging around in her desk chair to face Adrien.

“Soooo?” she prompted, drawing out the vowel. “Last time I checked, bros gush about their romantic encounters with their crushes. I’m waiting for all the spicy details about your rooftop rendezvous with Ladybug. How was her love confession? Tell me all about it. None of it leaves this room, I swear.”

Adrien gave a trill of glee, hugging Alya’s throw pillow to his chest as he enthusiastically exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, Alya, it was the best!”

[raven-nacht]

The Owl House: Mrs. and Mr. Blight Theory

So I’m pretty sure that the mystery girl in this photo is Mrs. Blight and that this has big ramifications and foreshadowing for the whole series.

I saw this picture posted in a thread talking about how it looked like Eda had a “gal pal” herself back in school and how it was similarly interesting how Lilith actually is looking pretty jealous of that relationship. I totally agreed that is interesting, but it got me thinking about how lots of things kind of mirror each other in the series or foreshadow other things with how Luz acts like Eda or vice versa and has allowed me to think I’ve got a decent theory on how a lot of the show could be resolved.

To start, I will note that my assumption that the mystery girl is Mrs. Blight started almost entirely from trying to observe hair color.

This might seem a bit simplistic, but as mentioned in the post already put out by my roommate when we were bouncing theories off each other earlier;

www.reddit.com/r/TheOwlHouse/comments/ickxz9/i_think_we_just_got_dropped_a_huge_lead_on_who/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

hair color is very important in this series. Of the seven most prominent characters in the show, three of them have been shown to very dramatically changed their hair since they were younger in moves aligning with very prominent character development for them (Eda with the curse; Amity once she started having to no longer associate with Willow and start following the “Blight way”; and Lilith due to currently unknown reasons). It thus makes a lot of sense to me that hair color being the earliest clue to this person’s identity is totally on-brand for the show.

With the assumption that she’s Mrs. Blight there and noting she already had green hair; my first observation was that Mrs. Blight is thus the “Blight by birth”, whereas Mr. Blight married into it (and is thus a bit of a “social climber”). My next guess was then that Mrs. Blight might’ve been a bit cocky in school initially, but eventually softened and developed a crush on Eda, much like Amitu doing the same thing to Luz (since like teacher, like student). This slow-burn relationship between Mrs. Blight and Eda and the ensuing love triangle Lilith is thus my guess for how a large part of why Lilith and Eda are “two witches torn apart, now alone”. I think lingering resentments over this and the Blight’s likely-intimate connection to the Emperor’s Coven is no small part in why Eda also didn’t want to join, even though it had actually “been Eda’s dream when she was younger”, according to Lilith.

The Blight’s (presumed) intimate connection to the Emperor’s Coven, what we’ve seen about “witch status” so far, and Mr. Blight’s identity as a “social climber” are the main basis for the second part of my theories on the show though, which is that I think Mr. Blight is being setup to either be the true Big Bad of the series (or at the very least be largely responsible for a majority of the show’s conflicts). To start, I’m pretty sure that, like Lilith, he was jealous of Eda’s connection to Mrs. Blight and thus he is ultimately the one who cursed Eda (or who caused Mrs. Blight or something else to curse Eda). And, I know, your going to say that all the way back in episode 4 we saw this figure:

and that Eda said “Wait, you’re the one who cursed me, aren’t you?!” and while I do agree that that is almost certainly Mrs. Blight, I’m thinking this is a red herring or simply close to the truth. After all, we’ve already had confirmation that destroying memories isn’t that hard and it makes more sense to me that the culprit would delete all memories of themself but be less careful with getting all traces of those only secondarily related to the deed (like Mrs. Blight).

As a brief sidenote, I do wanna point out that in that thread by my roommate, a great person named npapeye pointed out a really interesting observation in that the emblem on the door by the shadow figure does seem to be the Blight family symbol and that actually made me a lot more confident in all these predictions.

Like, just look at these pictures:

It feels fair to say that between that emblem and the fact that the shadow figure wears the fully-circular glasses just like in the first picture, we can pretty safely conclude that the mystery girl is the shadow figure seen in this dream (and before you point out that Lilith also used to wear those same circular glasses; I would just note I don’t think this shadow was Lilith just because Lilith’s behavior makes very little sense to me if she was the one to curse Eda and also that Lilith doesn’t have much connection to that emblem from what I noticed).

Now then, on the subject of shadows, it felt worth pointing out that we have seen three shadows in the show so far from what I could tell. First, of course, is Eda’s dream as above where she says “I hate this memory”. The next was a very traumatic memory for Amity of her parents and how made her stay away from Willow. The third and most recent shadow we’ve seen was finally, of course, Amity’s literal greatest fear and was the shadow of Luz rejecting her.

By applying the note that both of Amity’s shadows are rooted in her greatest fears or most painful memories, it also made sense to me that Eda’s shadow and thus her connection to Mrs. Blight might also be her most painful memory or her biggest fear at the time. With that, even if Mr. Blight didn’t mess with her memory, between the ravages of the curse on her mind and her trauma that gave her this shadow, it’d still make sense how she’s forgotten the details of what happened.

Theres still a few details I had thought worth pitching in this theory. Mystery girl (who I’m still guessing is Mrs. Blight) is undeniably in the Bard Track. The Bard Track is at the top-and-center of the picture of all the covens and is the only coven that hasn’t been mentioned at all yet in the show:

First, that lack of acknowledgement of a whole track feels very suspicious. especially as we saw when Luz started classes; between Luz being initially assigned Potions and then seeing the Detention Track students’ interests, the narrative has gone out of its way to highlight seven of the nine Tracks. Secondly though, I wanted to note that Bard Track is right next to Abominations Track, which was described by Willow as being “the best track for getting ahead in the magic world and thriving”, thus causing her Dad’s to put her in said-track initially. If Bards are right next to the currently “best-known” track, it makes sense for a Blight to be in it.

Let’s finally talk a bit more on Mr. Blight though. As a social climber, he was almost certainly in the Abominations Track. His presumed-cursing of Eda likely relied on his innate magic to some degree, which felt like it could explain the “mud” mentioned in “the curse of feathers and mud” that afflicts Eda. Elsewhere, he’s likely the one with naturally brown hair and who passed it onto Amity, and I think her having said-brown hair is why he is so hard on her and pushes Amity so far, because he sees “weakness” in his origin and family hair color. (It’s still likely that when we first see him, his hair will be green though, but I bet he dyes it and pressured Amity too as well). I think this pressure to follow him is also why Amity was likely pushed to decide on Abominations Track herself on that note. My final guesses on him are that he likely works directly for Emperor Belos, he is likely the largest push behind all of Belos’ upcoming “plans” mentioned by Lilith (and possibly the motivator behind wanting to catch Eda), and that he likely has aspirations of taking the title of Emperor for himself (which would suck just because it makes Amity have to “pick sides” and that sweet cupcake deserves better... but yeah 😅).

Anyways, I’m not saying that Mrs. Blight is clear of blame with any of the above either by the way, I’m guessing she’s at least fairly complicit in his actions nowadays, I just think all this fits pretty well from the perspective of narrative mirroring and foreshadowing. The main thing I’ve since been unable to at all crack or fit in is who seems to sending letters home to Luz’s mom since none of this really explains that, but we’ll see...

(Also, there’s nowhere else to put this, but it just bears pointing out here that the shadow figures of Mrs. and Mr. Blight here are literally the most imposing hinted “villains” shown in the show so far, beating Belos and one-off villains by a landslide to me so far, and thus I think by that virtue of foreshadowing alone, if they don’t turn to be some of the biggest “challenges” for the protagonists in the show, it’ll fully flabbergast me.) 

Thanks for reading though, I’ve been trying to post this for the past couple days but kept getting distracted, I hope this is a fairly new theory at least since I’ve not read most all of this anywhere else yet, instead mainly just been overthinking the show for days now.