#its serving brothers grimm realness

[stvrmaker]

No because you cant stop me from dwelling on Heaven Sent. Incredible episode, amazing performance.

[adarkrainbow]

I talked previously of an article that explored one aspect of the oral versions of Little Red Riding Hood (right here), but I realized... Maybe people are not aware of the main dfference between the “oral” versions of Little Red Riding Hood and its “literary” counterparts. 

And this difference can be best summed up by the issue of a comic book. Not just any comic book: issue 14 of the famous and excellent “Sandman” comic book, created by none other than Neil Gaiman. I don’t think this comic needs any introduction now - and even if I had to do one, it would hard to sum it all up easily, as this is a vast, complex and deep but immensely fascinating comic series (as expected from any of Neil Gaiman’s works). 

Issue 14 takes place during a specific arc - the Cereal Convention arc. The protagonist of this volume of the story is a young girl trying to find back her missing little brother, and who is escorted in her quest by a Chesterton-like character who clearly knows more (and is more) than what he seems... And during their journey they stop by a motel where a “Cereal Convention” is happening... Which turns out to be a thin cover for a convention of serial killers, here to share their particular “hobby”, gush over their personal stars and debate over the details of their job. (This arc is a true balancing arc between dark comedy and full-on horror).

During their stay at the motel, the Chesterton-like character (Gilbert) tells the protagonist (Rose) about a disturbing version of “Little Red Riding Hood” - which actually serves as a metaphor and warning for the situation they are in (especially since one of the “guests” of the convention is a dangerous pedophile-killer, who wears a wolf-eared cap in a parody of the Mickey Mouse hats). The version of the Little Red Riding Hood story here is presented by Gilbert as an “original version” of the story, predating Charles Perrault’s own story (he also claims that Perrault invented the “red hood” part of the story). Now, I want to clarify something: while it is a real oral variation of “Little Red Riding Hood”, it is not the “original” story, or rather it is impossible to prove. Again, this was one of the “folklorist misconception” that ruled over research in the 20th century (the comic was from the 90s), that oral, countryside versions of the tale HAD to be the “original” versions predating the literary tale (when the truth is that half of them are younger than the literary tale, and the rest we cannot prove). So while this version exist, I do not support the concept that it is an older version than Perrault’s story.

Or rather I do not support it “yet”, because I need to check the book Neil Gaiman took the story from - which he revealed in interviews to be 1985′s “The Great Cat Massacre” by Robert Darnton. I know this book is quite famous and divisive, and I haven’t read it yet, so I cannot actually judge more or speak further of the nature of this variation. But I will check it one day and update my thoughts. 

But putting beyond all that, I need to say that this comic and this issue was the first time I ever heard of the oral variations of Little Red Riding Hood, it opened up to me a whole world of darker fairytales hidden behind the real ones (before I only knew of the edits the Brothers Grimm did, like turning evil mothers into wicked stepmothers), and this story stayed ingrained in my mind, and for me it will stay without a doubt the quintessential “darker, oral variant of Little Red Riding Hood”. And while I actually couldn’t find back the tale as such in my researches, all the oral variants of the tale I found included the elements mentioned in this issue one way or another (one folkloric variation had for example the meat part, without the wine ; and another had the stripping section, but with different details). If you have checked my previous post on the “pins and needles” articles, you’ll recall the nasty bit where the wolf feeds the girl her granny’s sexual organs.

Now maybe the pictures do not load or you do not want to read them, so here is a brushed and rushed recap of the variation told by Gaiman:

A girl (no “red hood” involved) was told to bring her grandmother milk and bread. As she was walking through the woods, she met a wolf who asked her where she was going and she told him. The wolf rushed to the grandmother’s house, killed her, sliced her flesh on a plate, and poured her blood in a bottle, before wearing her clothes and getting into bed. When the girl arrived, the wolf-grandma encouraged her to eat “some meat” and drink “some wine” left in the pantry. The girl obeyed, but each time the cat of the house screamed at her “Slut! To eat the flesh and drink the blood of your grandmother!”. Afterward the wolf asked the girl to undress before climbing into bed with him/her ; the girl removed one piece of clothing after another, each time asking her grandma where she should put it, and the wolf answering “Throw it in the fireplace, you won’t need it anymore”. And then the end of the story plays out as Perrault’s... 

[etruatcaelum]

📂

send 📂 for random useless extravagantly worldbuildy headcanons

Salem:

Remnant’s atmosphere is conventionally divided into two major strata, the zotikosphere and the upper psilosphere. These are separated by an atmospheric layer known to modern science as the koniolytic stratum, which is composed primarily of ozone and aura-saturated oxygen ions. Extreme heat and auric energy in this stratum interfere explosively with dust, and above it all normal aura- and dust-based reactions will spontaneously fail.

This model was formulated by human scientists when the koniolytic stratum was discovered several years before to the Great War; Salem has known of it for millennia thanks to a large, birdlike morph of grimm called mallemucks.

Rarely encountered by humans or faunus, mallemucks spend most of their lives on the wing near the equator, skimming just under the koniolytic stratum to feed on the aura-rich gas it contains and landing only once or twice a year. They were first observed by humans during the Great War, when the advent of high-altitude aircraft brought Mantelian spy planes close enough to provoke territorial aggression. Only a handful of sightings have been credibly reported since then.

Grimm describe the koniolytic stratum in patterns that Salem translates as ‘skin of the sky,’ a phrase that any well-read student of the occult would recognize as a key cosmological concept in the centuries-old esoteric tradition of northwest Sanus. Salem is quietly pleased that the scientists are finally catching up.

Ozma:

These days, Long Memory is officially registered as having a grav-dust-infused collapsible frame encased in a ballistics-grade polymer composite casing: fairly unremarkable, as huntsman weapons go. In actuality, the haft was forged with ateric steel—that is, a steel alloy made with grimm ash—which gives it properties similar to dust.

Unlike dust, which exhibits very high auric reactivity and tends to disintegrate when agitated by all but the most skilled practitioners, ateric alloys are quite durable and can, if tempered correctly, hold charges of auric energy. In the modern day, they are used most commonly for computing and cybernetic engineering.

Ozma relies on Long Memory to compensate for their lost magic, and habitually carries a charge powerful enough to level half a dozen city blocks if released all at once. The cane is, in effect, a magical battery.

The gears set into the pommel serve no actual function other than to lend a gloss of credence to their explanation that Long Memory stores up kinetic energy. The haptic feedback they get from the gears does, however, help them keep precise track of time while wielding it—helpful in lives when their half-realized semblance morphs into some form of temporal manipulation.

Oscar:

While a plurality of Mistral’s urban population subscribe to some form of Draconism—worship of the Dragon Brothers—the dominant religion in Anima is Kairoism.

A polytheistic tradition dating back thousands of years, Kairoism is one of the oldest living religions on Remnant. Its pantheon comprises eight powerful kairoi and the lesser but abundant aurai, and in practice it is principally concerned with cycles, particularly that of the harvest. Time itself, in Kairoist thought, is a circle: everything that has happened will happen again and everything that will happen must happen because it has already happened.

(The mantra Pyrrha recites when she unlocks Jaune’s aura is an abridged form of a Kairoist coming-of-age ritual.)

Oscar is a practicing Kairoist and, despite Ozma’s searing mortification about this, continues to be such even after witnessing Jinn’s revelation that the Dragon Brothers are both real and the creators of humankind.

Summer:

Depending upon who you ask uninhabited continent is called Alukah, Malus, or the Bleakland; its legal designation as per the Vytal Accords is Terra Ignota, and habitation there is banned by international law except for military and industrial purpose. (The name Salem favors is Alukah.)

Although the extraordinarily high numbers of grimm on the continent make for a powerful deterrent against settlement, the land is also incredibly rich in dust, and modern history is littered with sad tales of mining outfits lost to the grimm. One of the most notorious of these tragedies was Visage: an SDC company town situated near the southern extremity of the continent, only an hour’s flight away from the northern coast of Vacuo.

Visage is well-known because it was successful: the settlement was Nicholas Schnee’s crowning achievement and catapulted the Schnee Dust Company to international prominence. For twelve years, the mines of Visage supplied the global market with premium dust.

Then the young Jacques Schnee began to gather influence over the company, and over the next four years the wheels came violently off, as cost-cutting measures, several rounds of layoffs, and increasing pressure from corporate to dispense with ‘unnecessary’ safety measures weakened Visage from within. Sixteen years after its founding, the settlement was overwhelmed by grimm and wiped off the map. Out of almost two hundred residents, only thirteen survived: one of them an eight-year-old girl with silver eyes.

As a grown up, Summer does not talk about her childhood beyond that she grew up in an orphanage in Vacuo; and her staunch refusal to even touch dust branded by the SDC or its subsidiaries is easily explained away by the fact of her Vacuan citizenship.

[ghostflowerdreams]

Prompt Story Ideas

Here’s a list of possible ideas for a one-shot or a multi-chaptered story. You don’t have to follow them exactly unless you want to. I even offered some suggestions within the brackets to help, but you can put your own spin to it or combine some of these ideas together.

You can also use any character (or more than one) – such as an original character, canon character, self-insert or reader-insert. Whatever you decide to do, you pretty much have free reign with this.

While on a backpacking trip you get lost, but discover a magical town called [Town’s Name], which seems to have been pulled right from a children’s fairy tale book [or the Grimm Brothers' book]. You soon learn that you cannot leave the town until you find true love...

You’re bar-hopping with a couple of friends, but get separated from them when entering a secret bar called [Bar’s Name]. It’s a 1920s theme [or wild west theme, pirate theme, Victorian era theme, D&D theme, etc.] bar that looks to be very authentic and historically accurate. You grow very concern when you discover that it’s actually all real and that you’ve somehow time travel [or dimension traveled to another world, etc.]...

You awaken in a hallway [or inside the air vent, on top of a examination table, inside a stasis tank, in a unlocked cell, etc.] of a deserted mansion [or a laboratory, hospital, prison, space station, island, ship, airplane, etc.] with amnesia. You’re wearing only a medical gown [or a military uniform, lab coat, prison jumpsuit, pajamas, etc.] and sporting a massive headache...

Your world is doom and all of your love ones are gone. As a last resort you’re sent [either by magic or technology] back in time to prevent it or to minimize the loss of life [or resources] as much as possible. However, something went wrong and you’re sent back farther than originally planned [or you’re sent to another dimension, parallel universe, etc.]...

You’re a vampire [or a immortal-cursed human, elf, demon, fae, witch, etc.]. You awaken after centuries of a self-imposed sleep [or you’re inadvertently freed] from your tomb [or cage] and emerge into a very changed world. Gas lamps have given way to neon signs. Horse-drawn [or ox-drawn, depending on location] carriages to sports cars. You certainly feel like a fish out of water, but you welcome the efficiency and convenience that technology innovation brings. The problem, however, is that you’re drawing too much attention to yourself as you try to figured out how everything works...

You get summoned into a fantasy world [or a distant planet, alternative universe, the past, the future, etc.] to serve as its hero [or to grant the summoner’s wish, to be their slave/pet, you’re their soulmate, to be used as bait, etc.]. You’re not exactly what they expected, but they really should’ve been specific [or read the fine print of the ritual] though, because you’re no one’s lackey or plaything...

You switch places with another person [or an identical twin, doppelgänger, clone, etc.] from another world. You have to play along until you can figure out how to switch back without alerting anyone, or else they’ll think you’ve gone insane and lock you up somewhere...

Your parent(s) [or guardian, sibling, friend, etc.] drags you to a supposedly haunted castle turned hotel to investigate for their work. You've only found signs of the haunt being staged to attract tourists. However, you’re proven wrong when you meet an actual ghost and end up falling for them...

After a plane crash [or shipwrecked, time travel, portal, etc.], you find yourself stranded in a mysterious land inhabited by dinosaurs [or dragons, etc.] and other dangers...

Years after a massive nuclear war [or alien invasion, asteroid, zombie apocalypses, etc.] you set out from the underground shelter, discovering that the world is not the same as it once was...

You get married and are clueless about your spouse’s intentions. They have plans to kill you for your money [or to sacrifice you for their god, etc.] but they end up actually falling for you and try to protect you from their unhinged partner in crime [or mob boss, cult, etc.]...

An angel falls into your pool [or a nearby pond, lake, etc.] with a broken wing. You do your best to splint their injured wing and keep them safe until they’re able to fly to the Heavens, but they don’t make it easy with their child-like attention span and wondering off to pet all the animals they see...

You’re a caregiver, working in a nursing home and you always do the night shift. That’s because you’re a vampire [or some other type of creature that feeds on energy or emotions like a incubus/succubus, etc.] and it’s the perfect position for you to feed and earn a living without drawing too much attention to yourself. But the newest staff member [or a senior’s relative who’s always visiting, etc.] is adamant in befriending you [or uncovering your secret] and you’re finding it difficult to keep them at arm's length...

You and your fiancé are keeping secrets from each other. They are not who you think they are and you’re not human. Your fiancé didn’t think they were capable of feeling love until they met you and you’re trying to keep your monstrous urges and instincts in check...

You’re a mortician, which is a great business for a vampire to be in. Simply because before you begin the embalming, you can drain the corpses of their blood for later consumption. However, things don’t go as planned when the corpse suddenly pops back up alive [or undead, if another vampire, zombie, etc.] and now you’ve got to deal with a hysterical newbie about their circumstances...

You’re an angel tasked with blessing a woman who was unable to have a child [or blessing an unborn child with the green thumb, blessing a devoted couple with a long life, etc.], but an unexpected comet [or asteroid, beam of light, etc.] hits you and you fall to Earth [or Terra Prime, Helion Prime, Adra, Namek, Vulcan, Pandora, etc.]. You quickly shift into a humanoid form before you hit the ground [or the water] and you’re discover by a human [or a elf, dwarf, vulcan, namekian, android, na'vi, etc.] who nurses you back to health...

You’re content with your life, but sometimes wish that it wasn’t so mundane. Surprisingly enough, the next day a stranger approaches you with the news that everything around you isn’t real and that you're not who you think you are [or you’re the chosen one, etc.]. You’re killed, but instead of the afterlife you’re awaken in a bed at a mental hospital [or in a liquid-filled pod among countless other pods containing other humans, or in a robot body, etc.]...

One late night your fellow camp counselors pulled out a Ouija board. At the sight of it you felt an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, especially when they suggested to use it to contact the spirit of a kid that died in the lake [or was caught in a forest fire, murdered, etc.]. You refused to mess around with it and immediately leave. Unknowingly, your decision saves your life because one by one they disappeared [or get possessed, brutally murdered by a supernatural killer, or die mysteriously, get cursed, etc.]. However, it also makes you seem suspicious...

You're a human with a Gorgon-cursed, which forces you to always hide your eyes behind blindfolds and pitch-black sunglasses. But one day you meet someone at the supermarket who accidentally knocks you over, causing your glasses to slip down. You're shock to find that they didn't turned to stone at the sight of your eyes, but that’s because they’re blind and now you’re intrigue by them...

In a secret laboratory the scientists conduct a genetic experiment with alien DNA in which you are created, a alien-human hybrid. You escape from your containment cell with the help of a old janitor [or guard, scientist, mercenary, solider, agent, full-blooded alien, another hybrid, etc.] and are on the run from the shadow organization [or the government, etc.]. You save a kid’s life from a vicious bully [or from falling off a balcony, from thugs, from drowning in a pool, from a fire, etc.] who then becomes your friend and teaches you how to be human...

You’re a forest ranger who checks up on the sleepaway summer camp after not receiving the usual update from the camp’s director. Only to find out that there’s a masked killer [or a demon, a ghost, werewolf, etc.] on the loose, targeting the campers or the camp’s staff. You do your best to protect the kids, but there's only so much you can do on your own. It also doesn’t help that someone keeps leaving you flowering weeds, especially in odd places for you to find and at inappropriate times...

You made a wish on what you thought was a shooting star, only to find yourself in a fictional world of a video game [or a book, a tv show, a movie, etc.]. What’s worst is that you’re not even a human anymore. You’re stuck as the main character’s animal companion [such as a dragon, a owl, a cat, a wolf, a bird, a raccoon, a squirrel, etc.] and have to help them out in order to find the cursebreaker [or the magic spell, true love’s kiss, etc.] that can turn you back to normal...

In a remote region of the sea [or near the bermuda triangle], you and your boat salvage crew [or marine photography enthusiasts, fishing crew, treasure hunters, marine researchers, explorers, etc.] discover the eerie remains of a grand passenger liner thought to be lost over 10 years ago [or 20 years ago, 50 years ago, 100 years ago, etc.]. Strangely enough it looks untouched by time and there’s no traces of the passengers, not even their remains. You can’t help but feel like there’s someone [or something] watching you all...

You’re a killer with a code that only kills those that are proven beyond a reasonable doubt to be killer themselves. You do not go after innocent people, especially children [because you genuinely have a good side or because you think it’s cowardly and isn’t a challenge to do so]...

You’re a toy [or a drawing, a statue, ice sculpture, etc.] that comes to life after a kid [or an adult] makes a wish [or says a magic spell, a freak storm happens, you’re a ghost and possessed it, etc.] to be real in order to have as a friend [or as a guardian, a parent, a lover, etc.]...

You are a princess [or heir/heiress, politician’s daughter/son, reporter, idol, ambassador, etc.] kidnapped by a pirate [or a dragon, a vampire, a werewolf, a barbarian, a obsessed fan, a cultist, a terrorist, etc.] for leverage [or ransom, revenge, to be a bride/mate, slavery, sacrifice, etc.], but you use your genuine kindness [or expert knowledge of how people work] to get them to empathize with you [or it’s a case of Lima syndrome] and eventually let you go free [or you turn the situation around to help everyone win, etc.]...

Without realizing it you are put into a secret test of character by a trickster in a disguised [or a demon, a djinn, a fairy, a god, etc.]. You impressed them for being genuinely a kind [or caring, thoughtful, etc.] person that they grant you a wish without any strings attach to it [or reward you with something you desire like love, adventure, etc.]...

You start every day by first feeding your cat [or some other pet], then going out onto your porch to pick up the milk and the newspaper. But one day you find something else left on your doorstep -- an alien baby [or an sentient flytrap-like alien plant, an mysterious black suitcase, etc.]...

You’re a part of a scientific expedition that uncovers fossilized evidence of an amphibian humanoid. When you’re collecting samples and data, you encounter the real-life fossilized creature. The being is curious about humans, but it quickly becomes enamored with you when you accidentally trigger their mating ritual [or it imprinted upon you, finds your pheromones genetic compatible/highly pleasant, etc.]...

You're abducted by aliens [or the fae, demons, oni, asgardians, pirates, wonderlanders, angels, etc.] and vanish off into outer space [or the Fae Realm, Underworld, Netherrealm, Asgard, Neverland, Wonderland, Afterlife, etc]. Three years later [or five years later, ten years later, etc.] you return to your family, but you’re not quite the same and some of them even believe you're not still a human either...

You're an orphan working as a chambermaid [or a guard, knight, soldier, laundress, undercook, messenger, stable hand, gardener, etc.] in the castle of [Name of the Castle's Location] since you were old enough to look after yourself. However, the visiting of foreign nobles change everything when one of the noblewoman claims that she’s been searching for you since you were taken from her as a baby [or a young child] and the only way she knows you’re truly her child is because of the distinctive birthmark [or scar, eyes, mole, freckle patterns, etc.] on your neck [or arm, hand, face, ear, etc.]...

Outclassed by the aliens and their massive ships hovering above Earth, the humans had no choice but to stand down or face destruction. The aliens offer an agreement with Earth’s government to leave the planet and most of the humans alone, but only if they’re allow to select a few that interest them whenever they want. The only ones completely safe from them are the children, pregnant women, the elderly and the sickly. From that point on life continued on as normal, but everyone would constantly look over their shoulders. You tried your best to keep your head down, but somehow managed to attract the attention of one of the aliens for some purpose [such as a slave, breeding partner, food, etc.]...

You are dumpster diving for food [or furniture, clothing, etc.] when you accidentally witness a man in a costume beat up a group of thugs trying to steal a car [or a vampire sucking the blood from a drunkard, a sharply dressed mobster shooting a man’s kneecaps for pissing off his boss, a couple making out and getting intimate, etc.]...

You go to a local dive bar with your friends. A fight breaks out between everyone [or a fire, a earthquake, etc.], forcing you and your friend to flee and get separated. You get taken by some guys who planned to use you in a satanic ritual in exchange for riches [or for power, beauty, great skill etc.]. However, they forget to actually kill you so the ritual doesn’t go as they planned [or they didn’t realize that they can't sell another person's soul when they don’t have a claim to it; unless it’s their own soul or their unborn/first-born child, you are not a virgin when they needed one for the sacrifice, etc.]...

Your job as a handler is to look out for your agent’s [assassin's, spy’s, etc.] physical/emotional well-being, supplying them with weapons, money, safe houses, debriefing them about the job/mission and instructing or advising them. However, something goes wrong when they pick up the wrong package [or are framed for something they didn’t do, refuse to finish the job, etc.] and it’s up to you to keep them alive...

After inheriting your grandparents' old farmhouse [or house, cabin, boat, etc.], you discovered a secret compartment under the wooden floor [or a secret room behind a bookshelf, secret drawer, hidden compartment behind a painting or fireplace, tucked behind a ceiling tile, etc.] containing a century-old diary/journal of [Name of the Book Owner], which records the activities of a cowboy [or a vampire, a WWI soldier/marine, a explorer, a doctor, a musician, etc.]. The more you learn about the writer the more you fall in love with them and wish you could’ve met them. Your wish is unexpectedly granted when you find a stranger within your home [or you find yourself transported into the past. etc.]...

You’re a medical student that accidentally gets electrocuted by an MRI machine and gain the ability to hear the thoughts of others when you’re touching them [or when they’re in close proximity]. You put your gift to good use by helping your patients with their worries and ease their conditions that they’re too embarrassed or afraid to reveal...

An unknown event caused all electricity around the world to stop working. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if the blackout was temporary, but sadly not a single piece of technology works anymore. People have adjusted to life without it, but it’s not just bandits that they need to worry about. You are special, because you are a human [or a android, a alien, a mutant, etc.] with the ability to power up all electric device [or fix any electric device as long as it’s still in good condition, etc.]. You certainly live more comfortable than others, but unfortunately the wrong people found out about what you can do...

You fall unconscious and suddenly gain six months [or a year, etc.] of memories [or visions, etc.] from the future. But strangely enough, you're not the only one because everyone in the city had lost consciousness for five minutes by the mysterious event...

You got a job as a security guard to patrol and monitor a large factory building [or island, cruise ship, etc.] containing a massive escape room game. The company behind it is so strict that they have you sign a non-disclosure agreement before you can even sign the employment contract. You didn’t think anything of it because its pays well, until one of the game contestants sneaks a message into your pocket [or confronts you, etc.]...

You are a flight attendant [or a passenger, pilot, air marshal, doctor, etc.] when the plane is taken over by a mysterious virus, causing those infected to become violent and ravenous. You and the other uninfected passengers must fight for survival, because no government will allow the infected airliner to land. And the plane only has about 18 to 19 hours [or 21 hours, depending on speed and altitude] before it runs out of fuel...

You were foraging for medical plants [or fishing, camping, traveling, etc.] when you’re unexpectedly knocked out from behind. When you finally wake up you find yourself bound by the wrists in a horse cart with other prisoners, which apparently the guards have mistaken you as one of the rebels...

You are apart of a small repair vessel containing a crew of mechanical and electrical engineers. Because your ship is in the vicinity you’re contacted by headquarters to find out why the spaceship [or space station, moon base, etc.] has gone dark. When you get there you discover that the ship [or space station, moon base, etc.] has been overrun by dead bodies and the survivors mutated by an alien virus into murderous abominations...

You’re a benevolent Huli Jing, which is a Chinese mythological creature that can shapeshift from a nine-tailed fox to an attractive human. Your goal is to reunite with your friend [or family, lover, etc.] in the celestial realm, but to do so you have to consume enough life essence to transcend into a heavenly being. However, this energy needs to come from nature and not from human beings. Because if you give in and prey on people, you’ll lose the chance to ever ascend to the Heavens. But after becoming a victim to humanity’s cruelty you find it difficult to keep yourself from giving in to your vengeful wrath...

A bunch of drunk college kids summon a demon, in particularly a lust demon because of the sexual charge energy in the air. They also half-assed it and made a very wonky summoning circle which you, the demon, take full advantage of. You temporarily possessed one of them [or a nearby cat, bird, etc.] and look for a comatose patient to make a permanent home in. Unfortunately, you also have to deal with the attachments that come with the body, such as their friends, family and the medical bills...

You are a food writer [or a culinary historian] that has planned a trip to [the name of the country] to investigate the claim of a rising chef, who can recreate the legendary feast of the emperor/empress from the [Country’s Name] history [or The Last Supper from Leonardo Da Vinci's most iconic mural painting, The First Thanksgiving, etc.]...

When a vampire [or demon, witch, warlock, shapeshifter, etc.] meets you they become love-struck and secretly obsessed with you. As time passes their fear of losing you forever increases and they forcefully turned you into a vampire [or a demon, or they cursed you with immortality, etc.]. You’re kept in a luxurious furnished prison, where your every need is provided for and you are treated like royalty. You want your life back, but the vampire won’t let you go until you fall in love with them [or/and have better control of your new self]...

By day you’re a college student [or mayor, stripper, musician, artist, barista, construction worker, projectionist, etc.], but at night you’re a expert masked burglar, that everyone knows as the modern-day Robin Hood called [Name]. You would sneak into the wealthy suburbs and rob mansions, giving most, if not all, of your loot to the poor and homeless...

You were once a combat medic [or a bodyguard, stunt performer, secret agent, solider, assassin, sniper, race driver, etc.] but are now a professionally trained maid [or butler] that looks unassuming and ordinary at first glance. However, you’re actually a badass that always gets the job done whether it’s cooking, cleaning, washing, babysitting, and so on. The only problem is that your boss is a self-destructive idiot [or workaholic, narcissistic, self-absorbed snob, spoiled brat, etc.] that keeps putting [or unintentionally getting] themselves into dangerous situations...

You work at a nationwide company [or you start up your own business] that provides cleanup services for crime scenes and biohazard removal, such as blood, tissue or other bodily fluids [and/or body disposal]. However, it’s not like the others because it specialize in the supernatural which requires a different approach to get the job done...

Notes: Prompt Story Ideas, Pt. 2

[bestworstcase]

Does RWBY comment on the religious instituition in some way, or moreso the trappings of faith?

that’s not… quite it, i don’t think, tbh. certainly there is something in ozma’s genteel zealotry and consequent corruption, but the presence of religion in the cultural worldbuilding is very minimal, and the core cast—including ozpin himself!—is composed in its entirety of characters ranging from irreligious to non-practicing. if memory serves ironwood is the only major character so far to make a casually religious statement (“i know this is coming a little ahead of schedule, but brothers know you deserve it,” 7.4)?

the ozma vs salem conflict absolutely boils down to disciple vs apostate, but that theological dimension of their conflict exists outside the context of a cultural religious institution.

from the historical facts as we understand them we can infer that ozma used to be a bona fide zealot—worship of the brothers appears to be culturally hegemonic in the four kingdoms, which could only have happened if ozma, at some time or another, established the formal organized worship of his own absentee gods. further, while ozpin publicly eschews the affectations of faith, he nevertheless tells his inner circle that the gods he serves are the only real gods, and the creators of humankind. he also misrepresents(?) the relics as the literal, physical divine gifts that define human nature, and by explaining his reincarnation as a curse bestowed by the gods, to be lifted only when he puts an end to salem on their behalf, he implicitly positions himself as divinely-ordained. he may not ask outright for professions of faith from his inner circle, but the narrative he feeds them is overtly a holy quest to save humanity by safeguarding the divine relics entrusted into his care by the gods. the huntsman institution is the apparatus of a conspiratorial religious cult, basically.

and then on salem’s end of things there is absolutely nothing to suggest she isn’t still in active, if necessarily slow-burning, rebellion against the gods. the most authoritative description we’ve gotten of her motives so far is ozpin’s assertion that she intends to bring the relics together after irreparably dividing people to ensure that the gods will rule against humanity and obliterate everyone, including her, but there are a lot of reasons to doubt this statement, including:

1 - ozpin’s explicit goal in revealing this information is to manipulate hazel into turning against salem, and ozpin openly believes that FEAR is the supreme emotion in the human psyche. he keeps his own inner circle in line by continually invoking the specter of mass panic to justify his decisions and shut down objections to his chosen course of action, and he tries to pry hazel away from salem by making him afraid.

2 - ozpin lies. constantly. about everything. the habit of lying is so deeply engrained that at one point he lies for no reason about vital information and then can’t even explain why he lied until he’s had a solid twenty minutes to come up with an excuse. (i am referring to withholding the fact that the lamp will attract grimm; even when he comes clean he seriously minimizes the potency of this effect, which very nearly gets ruby killed when she faces the leviathan at the end of the volume and it goes for the lamp instead of the plane crammed with NINE stressed-out fighters actively trying to draw its attention.) well over half of what he tells the kids in v5 is verifiably either outright false or a deliberate misrepresentation of the partial truth. later in v8, well after this conversation with hazel, he makes a genuine commitment to being honest with his allies—but EVERYTHING he says before then is suspect, and everything he will say in the next couple volumes should also be taken with a grain of salt because that wasn’t the first time he promised them honesty, and lying to this extreme degree is a difficult habit to break.

3 - ozpin’s explanation of salem’s motives is built on top of a statement that is either a genuine misunderstanding or a calculated half-truth: he tells hazel that the gods cursed salem to live until the world ends. “as long as this world turns, you shall walk its face.” but that wasn’t her curse—that was a taunt. the actual terms laid out by the god of light were “you must learn the importance of life and death; only then may you rest.” whether ozpin lied about this or simply misunderstood, the conclusion he draws—that salem seeks the total destruction of the world so that her curse will end and she can finally die—is a conclusion made from at least one an argument that is factually incorrect.

4 - rwby has since v4 made a very, very conspicuous point of demonstrating that nobody really knows what salem wants, this confusion became a significant plot point in v8, and the key characters involved in that plot point purposefully chose NOT to ask for objective verification from the literal avatar of knowledge. the intentional narrative obfuscation going on here is NOT SUBTLE, and it’s unlikely that any definitive statement made so far is fully accurate, including salem’s own vague reference to “pursuit of a new world.”

5 - the one thing we know of salem’s motivations for sure is that she considers the brothers to be monstrous tyrants, and has so far openly rebelled against them once and attempted to usurp them twice. her immediate reaction to crushing defeat at their hands was to vow to keep fighting. whatever rebellious plans she might have cooked up in the last however many millions of years it’s been are obviously stymied by the fact that the gods left, and she presumably doesn’t have the means to hunt them down in whatever corner of the cosmos they’ve gone to, giving an obvious reason for her fixation on the relics if she has a second rebellion in mind: she needs them to lure the gods back into striking distance. if ozpin knows or even just suspects that this is her real plan, his own faith in the god of light all but demands he do everything in his power to obscure the truth—because he also knows that salem is unequivocally capable of orchestrating a mass rebellion against divine rule. she did it once before, and that was BEFORE the gods proved her right by massacring the whole planet in retribution. it is absolutely critical to ozma’s agenda that he deny salem even the slightest chance to rally people again, and the simplest, most obvious way to do that is to paint her as a suicidal liar manipulating people into bringing divine judgment down upon themselves, sacrificing their chance for salvation to fulfill her desperate desire for death. this narrative casts doubt onto anything salem herself says of the gods or her own agenda and implicitly validates the rightness of the divine stance by treating the judgement day extermination of humankind as a foregone conclusion, not something that can be fought.

and like the thing about all of this is that rwby is, uh, pretty obviously building towards an ending where the gods can be fought. assuming salem is still thinking in terms of defiant last stands rather than suicidal submission to the will of the gods, then her view of them as tyrants to resist so far seems to be the one validated as correct by the narrative.

so with…that said, returning to the actual question: i don’t think rwby as a narrative is commenting on religion or faith as an institution; i think the theological dimension here is a commentary on and deconstruction of fantasy chosen one tropes. ozma divine mandate is pretty bog standard in that the nominally ‘good’ god anointed him as a champion tasked with single-handedly saving the world from an otherwise inescapable existential threat posed by the forces of evil, and after straying from the path under salem’s influence in his first reincarnation he’s spent every subsequent life trying to atone for the failures of the last, gradually inspiring global worship of his gods in the process and always working towards the eventual fulfillment of his task. his immortality means this all plays out over a time span of thousands of years, but in every other respect he’s in the thick of your garden variety fantasy chosen one hero’s journey. the twist, of course, is that the task he was chosen for is a) impossible and b) morally bankrupt because it’s premised on the positions that humankind deserves to be exterminated and that humanity is inferior without the magical abilities that come with the gods’ blessings. so we get ozma miserably stagnating in the mire of his own obedience while despair and desperation eat away at his conscience and ideals until he becomes ozpin, and we also get this obfuscating duality with salem, who gets cast by team oz as the root cause of all division and evil in opposition to his holy quest and fills this hitherto unremarked upon role as the only character who sees the gods for what they truly are. meanwhile the natural trajectory of the protagonists’ movement away from ozpin’s authority and (even more critically) his methods brings them ever closer to salem’s side of the conflict with the gods—in that it is slowly becoming inevitable that these kids will fight back instead of capitulating when the gods return to pass judgment and execute everyone. (they are *already* at “disagreeing and debating what we should do is okay, and shutting down discussions over this abstract terror of salem ‘dividing us’ is counterproductive, actually,” and they *just* saw the horrific consequences of a former ally twisting the ideal of “unity” into demands for total obedience on pain of mass death. the next step is re-examining the god of light’s ultimatum through the lens of these experiences in atlas.)

basically rwby takes the standard fantasy trope of the hero chosen by divine authority to vanquish evil and questions its underlying moral assumptions. would a truly kind and compassionate god threaten—or at best, placidly accept the possibility of—the total annihilation of the world unless one person obeys their call to adventure? if the reward promised by that god is identical to the implied ambition that makes the villain a monster (i.e. “fix these worthless broken imitations of humanity by giving them magic”), and the threatened punishment even worse than that, where does that leave the heroes? how does the chosen one navigate a situation where the only moral choice is apostasy but he has been manipulated by his own gods into endless war with the apostate? (the answer to that one is “badly.”) etc.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Payback's a Murder

Word Count: 2k Description: Mammon may be the Avatar of Greed and may constantly try to con his brothers, but others who try to do the same will find themselves at the wrong end of his murder. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Finally got back to this, so here we go with Mammon's turn! Note: Mulciber is a demon mentioned in John Milton's Paradise Lost. He served under Mammon and was an architect. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: blood, body horror, torture via the sharp ends of birds

The Avatar of Greed often found himself in trouble, whether it be because he stole personal belongings to sell or tried to cheat someone out of cash or … well, there were a lot of ways. Call him reckless, but when he saw an opportunity to make some cold, hard Grimm, he wasn’t about to pass it up!

But if someone tried to cheat him out of something? That wouldn’t do. Few dared to try it if they knew just who they were dealing with, but that didn’t stop some from trying anyway. They always regretted it afterwards.

The real issue, however, was if someone tried to cheat his brothers out of something. After all, he was the only one allowed to rip them off (that was his justification, anyway). The moment he finds out someone else tried to play confidence demon with any of them, it was a one-way ticket to the Great Mammon’s Beatdown Extravaganza.

He was walking by Leviathan’s room earlier when he heard a loud crash, some swearing, and a slight rumble under his feet. After some door breaking, tackling, and forcing his hotheaded brother to not summon Lotan, he found out what had made him so upset. Apparently, there was some demon running around with elaborate schemes swindling others -- well, nerds -- out of their money. He went on to explain something that Mammon did not at all understand -- as was usual when he got into his otaku rambling. If his brother had not been so upset, Mammon would have commended the guy for knowing how to target and hit a jackpot.

After some additional pestering, Mammon managed to get a rough description of this third-rate demon and realized he had a pretty good idea of just who it was. It was someone far closer to him than he’d like to admit.

So now here he was, leaning against the bar at one of the Devildom’s many clubs, drink in hand as he monitors the floor. If he was right, he would see the other cozening demon somewhere here tonight, so now it was just a waiting game. As Lucifer had told him repeatedly, You have to show that you’re Number Two. He planned to make that very clear tonight.

He felt the pulse of the bass vibrating through his body as the DJ amped up their music, more and more demons flowing into the space as the prime clubbing hours arrived. A few who noticed Mammon acknowledged his presence, some whispering about how he seemed to look way more serious than normal. The Avatar of Greed, not partying the night away already? Strange.

His patience was just about to run out when he caught a glimpse of just the demon he was seeking out. Hair as orange as a flame, he wasn’t too hard to spot amongst the crowd of more muted succubi surrounding him. Mammon downed the rest of his drink in one go, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket as he made his way to his target.

“Mulciber. Already getting started, huh?”

“M-Mammon?!” He seemed startled to see the other, but cleared his throat as he regained his cool composure. “It’s good to see you, man! Why don’t you join us all for a drink?” The succubi around him giggled, one daring to lean towards Mammon in an attempt to latch onto his arm, but he quickly placed a hand up to stop her.

“No touchin’, sweetheart.” He shot her a look that made her immediately back away, a pout on her lips. “And that’s a nice offer, Mulcey, but I was hopin’ I could talk to ya real quick in private.”

Mulciber could tell that no was not an option in this conversation, given the serious look in the Avatar’s eyes. “Oh, uh, sure. Sorry ladies, I’ll be back soon. Gotta take care of business!” He gave them a wink as they continued on to the table for their party. Clearing his throat again, he turned back to his superior. “So, what’s shaking, boss?”

Mammon just gave him a smile before nodding his head towards a side door, motioning to accompany him there. The lesser demon complied, following him outside to a side alley. The night air was brisk, causing a shudder to run through Mulciber’s spine. At least, he hoped it was the weather that was making him feel like this …

“I heard ya got up to another scheme.” Mammon fiddled with a lighter, flipping the top off and on with his thumb and a jerk of his hand as he spoke. Click, click, click, click. “Wanna tell me about it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, totally!” Mulciber nervously replied, wondering why Mammon seemed so interested. Did he want a cut of the check? Fishing for ideas for his own next get-rich-quick scheme? Or --

Oh.

Oh no.

He suddenly remembered that one of the victims of his scheming had been the very Avatar of Envy. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, delighting in the fact that he was even able to rip off a Greater Demon. Meant his plan had to be pretty genius, right? But now … now he was starting to realize that he may have just made a big mistake.

“Hm? Ya haven’t said a word, Mulcey-boy.” Mammon turned to face him, tucking the lighter into his pocket. He took a step towards the other, who immediately took a step back -- only to be met with a hard brick wall. “Or didja have a moment of realization?”

“L-Listen, Mammon, I’m sorry! I didn’t know at the time, I swear!” Mulciber brought both his hands up, as if that would stop the other from approaching him.

“Oh? ‘Cuz your face says differently, buddy.” He bared his fangs, the usual gradient in his eyes now glowing a furious gold. There’s a malicious grin on his face as he takes a step back, and then he begins to … whistle?

Mulciber does not like where this is going. He’s heard that tune before and it makes his hairs stand on end. “Look, man, please, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it up to you!” There’s already desperation in his voice, which almost makes Mammon laugh.

“Glad to hear it. Then ya won’t have a problem with what’s about to happen next, yeah?”

It starts in the distance, a noise that made it feel as if your eardrums were being pierced by a thousand shards of glass. It grows louder and louder, closer and closer. An omen.

Mulciber shrinks against the wall, his grey eyes wide in fear. He knows running is pointless -- the other demon would quickly catch him, and leave him even worse for wear as repercussion. “P-please, Mammon, sir, don’t do this … “

“Didn’t you just say ya’d do whatever ya have to do?” Mammon shakes his head, his wings stretching out wide as if to entrap the lesser demon where he stood. “And you really think suddenly pullin’ out the formalities is gonna get ya any mercy here?”

The flapping of numerous wings now filled the air, a large murder of crows circling in the dark sky above. Their bone-chilling caws and cries rain down upon them as the birds eagerly await their master’s command.

Mammon lunged forward and grasped the other’s jaw, his claws digging into flesh as he brought his face threateningly close. “Pretty ballsy of you to think messin’ with any of us was the right move.” He growled, a rumble in his throat. “Looks like someone needs remindin’ of his place.”

“I-I wasn’t thinkin’ at the time! C’mon, you know how that is, don’t you? I was just thinking of making some big bucks, I didn’t mean to go and step out of line--” Mulciber frantically rambled, trying to ignore the searing pain he was feeling from Mammon’s grip.

“I’m sure that was the case, Mulcey, sure!” If it wasn’t for his mocking smile, the Avatar would have nearly sounded genuine. “But that doesn’t mean you can escape the consequences, ya’know?” He let out a tsk, watching as blood dripped from where he had pierced the other’s skin.

He let go of Mulciber, taking a few steps back as he shook his hand as if to clean it of the ichor. There was no denying the glee he was feeling from this -- it had been a while since he decided to flex his abilities and powers on another. Looking up to the sky, he whistled out another tune, causing the crows to descend.

“He’s all yours.” He commands them in a language only they could understand, and in a flash the black-feathered birds rush in to attack. Their squawks mix with Mulciber’s shrieks as they begin to peck at him with their beaks and scratch him with their claws. Mammon fishes out the lighter from his pocket once more, grabbing a cigarette from the box he had on him with his other hand. Leaning against the opposing alley wall, he lights up and takes a slow drag, watching as the flurry of feathers pulverize his inferior.

The crows tear at Mulciber’s flesh, their sharp beaks riddling his body with small cavities and painting him with his own blood. He continues to cry and scream, though it’s obvious he’s losing energy by the second as they grow weaker in intensity, his body slumping towards the ground. Perhaps he had learned his lesson? Surely, he’s just waiting for it all to stop now, right?

Mammon takes a glance around, humming in delight as he catches sight of a discarded iron pipe. He drops the remains of his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before retrieving his now makeshift weapon. It feels cool and light in his hand, and he gives it a small toss in the air before catching it again with a satisfied smile.

“Alright, alright. You all can leave him alone now.” Mammon commands his murder once more, followed by another whistle to let them know they could go back to doing whatever they were doing before now. One of them flew over to Mammon, perching on the metal rod in his hand, looking up at him with a puffed up chest in pride as blood stained its beak.

“Yes, who’s my good lil’ birdie?” Mammon cooed, scratching the crow under its chin. “Go get yerself cleaned up, okay?” It cawed in delight before flying off to join the rest, who were fading back into the dark night sky. The Avatar of Greed shook his head fondly before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

Mulciber lay crumpled on the ground, though was making efforts to sit upright as he gasped for breath. His body hurt all over, as if every inch of him had been pierced with needles. He feebly looked up to meet Mammon’s gaze, a whimper leaving him as he noticed the rod in his hand.

“What? I couldn’t let my birds have all the fun, now could I?” Mammon grasped the rod firmly in both hands before swinging it down with a deafening crack as it hit the other, who let out another sharp cry of pain.

“Hm, perhaps just another for good measure.” Whack. Another wail.

“Okay, okay. One more.” Whack. Another splatter of blood.

Content at the shuddering and sniveling mass that was left, Mammon kneeled down to get close to Mulciber’s ear, his next words full of menace. “Ya really should have stuck to the building business. Keep that in mind in the future, ‘kay?”

Mammon stood up and let the iron rod clatter to the ground, its hollowness ringing into the night. He made his way back inside to order another drink, ignoring the whispers and stares from the others in the club. It was doubtful that Mulciber would make an appearance here after what had happened for a while.

He knocked on the bar counter, getting the attention of the bartender. “Give me a glass of your finest whiskey. Put it on Mulciber’s tab.”

[themousefromfantasyland]

Fairy Tale Laws: How Fairy Tales and their Worldbuilding work

Who follows me knows I'm mega into mythology and folklore. One of my favorite pieces of folklore and fantasy literature is the Fairy Tale. Since I was a child I was always draw to the magical world of Disney films and their darker literary counterparts.

I love fairy tales, yet in my opinion they continue to be one of the more misunderstood and neglected genres out there.

So, as a Disney fan and avid fairy tale reader, in this essay I show how the genre itself generally works and which principles rule their whimsical world

Fairy Tales, Myths and Fables

The thing that fairy tales, myths and fables have in common is that they all find their origins in the oral tradition.

They were fantastical tales, not told specifically for children but deeply enjoyed by them, that were transmitted through generations.

Both fairy tales and myths don't follow real world logic, instead following their own dream-like logic, in a sequence of weird and fantastical events, that are magical and intriguing to the listener, but essentially normal to the in-universe characters.

Often than not there aren't any explanations of why these events happen and their impact of those in-universe societies, they just happen. Animals talk, mythical creatures live along with human societies just fine, inanimated objects come to life, people seem to turn into animals all the time, etc, and nothing of that seem to ever change the status quo.

The thing that differentiate the fairy tale from the myth, is that the myth is supposed to have happened in our world, but in a far off past. They are supposed to explain how our world came to be, and they have a very strong religious importance. The fairy tale on the other hand is not supposed to be took seriously. It's a fun story that the older generation tell to the younger generation. It can pass deeply important life or religious values, but that's not their main point. They are fairy tales, not fables.

The point of the fable is to transmit a moral. The point of a fairy tale is to transport the listener into a fantastical journey.

Fairy Tales vs. Oral Stories

Although many folk stories became immortal fairy tales, not all fairy tales came from oral tradition. Actually, some can be traced back to specific authors.

The Little Mermaid, the Ugly Duckling and the Steadfast Tin Soldier are all considered immortal fairy tales, yet they were all created by famous danish writer Hans Christian Andersen. A lot of his stories are authoral, and all are considered true fairy tales.

The term "Fairy Tales" actually comes from the french "conte de fées" and was coined in the 17th century by Marie-Catherine Le Jumel de Barneville, Baroness d'Aulnoy, the Madame d'Aulnoy, a french writer who wrote about a world where love and happiness came to heroines after overcoming great obstacles.

These stories arise from the Préciosité, a French literary style in the 17th century, from "les précieuses", intellectual, witty and educated women who frequented the salon of Catherine de Vivonne, marquise de Rambouillet. Themes presented in these stories are the ideals of feminine elegance, etiquette and courtly Platonic love, all hugely popular with female audiences, but scorned by men.

Telling fairy tales was a popular préciosité parlor game, and they should be told as if spontaneously, even though they all were carefully prepared. This style served as influence for Charles Perrault and Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve.

Villeneuve herself was the original author of Beauty and the Beast, and although the story is heavily inspired by older legends like Cupid and Psyche, it still is an authoral story.

Even the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault, who were famous for being collectors of tales from oral tradition, gave their own twists and embellishments to their tales. For example, in many Cinderella tellings it's her mother's ghost who helps her. The Fairy Godmother is Perrault's invention.

So more than been just stories from the oral tradition, fairy tales as a literary genre are the reinvention of the old tropes found in the folk stories under a more sophisticated polish, for a new public.

Fairy Tale as a literary genre

In a way I consider the Fairy Tale a sibling genre to Magical Realism. As TV Tropes puts:

"In Magic Realism, events just happen, as in dreams. [...] Magical realism is a story that takes place in a realistic setting that is recognizable as the historical past or present. It overlaps with Mundane Fantastic. It has a connection to surrealism, dream logic, and poetry."

Both use a surreal, almost poetic internal logic with little to no explanation. Magical Realism is the occurrence of a fantastical event in a realistic setting, in a fusion between the mundane and the magical world.

Fairy Tales are similar because they often deal with very domestic topics and subjects. The protagonists often are normal people with very mundane goals. They don't want to save the world, they want to save themselves and their loved ones.

Cinderella and Snow White for example, are more concerned with escaping from their abusive families than being cultural or legendary heroes like in the myths. Hansel and Gretel are trying not to die from starvation, and Red Riding Hood is trying to visit her sick grandmother. Regardless of class status, these are people with their own problems that find in the fantastical events a escape from them, or a even worse danger.

This is not a universal rule, as some characters are more heroic and there's more in stake, but generally the heroes are domestic heroes and it's only their lives that are in stake.

The difference between the Magic Realism and the Fairy Tale, is that while in the Magic Realism you can easily point where the realistic setting ends and the magical one begins, the fairy tale goes even further, and the lines between the worlds are way more muddled.

Worldbuilding in Fairy Tales

Now, that's the most important part. Fairy Tales are a sub-genre to Fantasy, but while in the other genres the magic world is described in the minimal details, often with rich details about the in-universe cultures and their rules, the Fairy Tale maintain the magic world as vague as possible. That's because it uses what I call "soft-worldbuilding".

Part of the appeal of the fairy tale is to transport the reader in a fantastical journey, but in order to do that they use as little details possible, allowing the reader to try to fill in the gaps. That's in order to avoid the magic world of feeling too real or too close to reality. The reader needs to have a sense of wonder and intrigue, and if you started to describe your world in all its details, it will become too grounded, and the wonder and the intrigue will be lost.

Said that, you need some basic rules, otherwise everything will be incredibly incoherent. You reader needs to understand how the magic world works and their rules, but they also need to be slightly lost, discovering all the details along the way and be amazed by them, lost in a mystery that they will never find all the answers.

To illustrate this, look at the differences between the Middle-earth and Narnia. One is a standard fantasy world, the other is a fairy tale world. J.R.R. Tolkien drew inspiration from the epics, C.S. Lewis drew inspiration from fairy tales and childhood stories.

The Middle-earth is grounded on its own rules, with their own races, cultures, languages and myths. Narnia is a playground were everything magical is allowed. Greek mythology creatures? Okay. Roman gods? Okay. Father Christmas? Okay. Jesus? Of course!

One is worried about all the small details, the other wants everything as vague and simple as possible, as to ensure the wonder and the intrigue will never be lost the reader.

When you're dealing with a fairy tale world you have way more freedom than the standard fantasy world. You don't need to think too deeply in the details. You can use the Rule of Funny and the Rule of Cool as much as you want, as long as it's minimal consistent and coherent

Fairy Tale Laws

This are some basic rules and principles that I believe rule over the fairy tale genre

Establish rules of how the world works. Keep it consistent and coherent. That's your base

Not every fantastical event needs a deep explanation, and magic is not allowed as an universal explanation

Keep it simple. Don't worry too much about the small details.

You don't want your world to be too grounded in reality. A little escapism is key

Poetic logic and surrealism reigns

Have fun with all the weird and magical things that crowded your world. "Rule of Cool" and "Rule of Funny" reign

Never reveal too much to your reader. They need to constantly feel as if there is something more happening off the limits of your story

Domestic heroes (As Narnia and the old dragon slayer stories show, this is not an universal rule)

The overall tone can be darker and edgier, softer and lighter, or somewhere in the middle

[raeynbowboi]

Disenchantment and Fairytales

By now, we’re well aware that Disenchantment is to the fantasy genre what Futurama is to the Sci-Fi genre. It’s made many references to Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and of course, Disney. But a less glaringly obvious inclusion in the realm of Disenchantment is its use of fairytales, as they often exist only in sight gags or very minor elements. Take for instance the glass slippers Bean refuses to wear for her coronation in the finale for season 3, or Elfo’s Snow White style glass coffin actually being an aquarium. The only overt fairytale is Hansel and Gretel, which even then is given a very dark spin with the twins being cannibals who imprisoned the witch and used the gingerbread house to attract kids and other people to cannibalize. So, I wanted to examine the use of fairytales and how they might be used, played with, or subverted by Disenchantment.

The Wicked Step-Mother

Most noteworthy in the fairytales like Snow White and also Hansel and Gretel, in the original versions of both stories, the wicked mother is actually the biological mother of the heroes. But in later renditions, it was altered to vilify step-mothers. Thanks largely to the Brothers Grimm popularizing these stories with evil step-mothers, they were driven to make these alterations due to their own perception of motherhood as pure and sacred, making the step-mother a wicked obstacle to the wholesome nature of the nuclear family. Disenchantment heavily leans on this trope, mostly with Dagmar resembling the wicked mother from Snow White. Like the Evil Queen from the fairytale, Dagmar is a smolderingly beautiful queen with a knack for witchcraft and sorcery. Oona meanwhile is the deconstruction of the Evil Stepmother trope, as Bean comes to recognize that she put her birth mother on an undeserving pedastal, and only comes to appreciate how cool Oona was too late, only seeing Oona as a true friend once she and Zog were divorced. 

The Princess and The Knight

Lady Bowmore is the bee knight that Bean meets in Steamland, and she even calls herself Bean’s “Knight in Rusted Armor”. The only thing we really know about Lady Bowmore is that she drives a mechanical horse-car, is very helpful and flirtateous with Bean, and she wears a bee medallion. While this is a personal theory, I wonder if the bee blimp that Bean took back to Dreamland belonged to Lady Bowmore, which would mean that she’s connected to Gunderson Airships, and possibly in allegiance with Alvin Gundersen and the plot to kill Zog. Based on the story conventions and Disenchantment’s general tone, the fact that she calls herself Bean’s knight in rusted armor implies that while she’ll seem like a heroic helper at first, the apparent chivalry isn’t as clean and pretty as it seems, and she’ll turn against Bean somewhere down the line as a deconstruction of the gallant heroic knightly figure. However, I could be wrong and applying a cynical reading, when instead the trope will play rather straight, and Lady Bowmore will be the stock gallant knight who rescues, aids, and defends the fair princess, possibly even defecting from Steamland to serve Bean as the new Penderghast and captain of the royal guards.

Pinnochio

So far, Freckles has only been in three episodes. He showed up in a cameo in the pilot, and then appeared in earnest at the end of season 3. Freckles is clearly mischevious and very probably dangerous. For starters, the shop is literally selling haunted puppets, and the shop keeper (who is very likely Dagmar) says that she can’t part with Freckles because he’s a very naughty boy who is like a son to her, much like how Pinocchio is like a son to Geppetto. What’s more, in the book version of the fairytale, Pinocchio is a mischievous little brat whose actions get Geppetto arrested and kills his conscience. We also know that Dagmar told Zog to let her into his mind in exchange for being let out of the asylum, so this access to his headspace could have something to do with why he was drawn to Freckles specifically. There’s also a sign in the shop that reads “Replace your Child”, which Pinocchio was a substitution for Geppetto who had no biological children of his own and replaced that void in his life with a puppet he made. This stands to reason that Freckles is somehow going to threaten Bean’s place in Zog’s heart in one way or another. Another sign reads “Need a Friend? This Won’t Help” again alluding to how dangerous Freckles is going to be. When buying the puppet, Freckles says “Don’t you see? He talks through me. But it won’t be free.” Fairytales have a longstanding tradition of “paying for something in an unconventional way”.

Beauty and the Beast

I’ll admit, when Merkimer first turned into a pig, I assumed he was downgraded to a running gag side character, but season 3′s episode Hey, Pig Spender shows us a miraculous bit of character growth for Merkimer. He gives up his chance to be human in order to save Bean, and in that moment, I realized he wasn’t just a man turned into a pig as a joke. Merkimer is the Beast. Like Merkimer, Beast is usually depicted as a cruel, selfish, or vain man, who is changed through magic into a hideous creature in order to learn a lesson. While the Disney version is more similar to a wolf, most of the older illustrated versions depict the beast as either having the head of a boar, or being otherwise pig-like. In fact, the fairytale even has a related fairytale called The Pig King, which likewise features a handsome prince turned into a pig and only becoming human again once he obtains the love of a woman. With only 3 seasons so far, it’s hard to say whether Bean will eventually come to love Merkimer as he keeps growing and changing or if he will slowly win the heart of another woman (or man), Merkimer’s character arc is clearly setting up that he’ll become human again when he’s completed his redemption arc and become a better person. In a sense, he’ll stop being a pig when he stops thinking and acting like a pig.

The Little Mermaid

Like her fairytale counterpart, Mora gives up her home and family to pursue her passion, only to find it’s not what she expected it to be, and find herself regretting the choice she’s made to leave it all behind. The Little Mermaid wanted to see the land of the humans, and also longed for an immortal soul that she might live forever in Heaven. Mora meanwhile desired to be an actress, but due to her tail, wasn’t given a fair shake. This also mirrors the real life casting discrepancies of the early film era, when non-white actors had a hard time finding roles, and even the few actors of color who did manage to get roles were still largely disrespected by the industry at large. Due to the original tragic ending of the fairytale, I half suspect that Mora too will get an unhappy ending with Bean, likely due to how distant their kingdoms are, or how different their biology is. However, considering how much merfolk imagery appears in the Dreamland Castle, it is highly possible that Mora is Bean’s soul mate and ultimate love interest for the series. Mora’s song, though short, all but confirms that Mora is not gone from the story. When Bean finds herself caught in a war, Mora will appear and take Bean’s side, and fight beside her, likely as an archer like the mermaid in the constellation.

[aspoonofsugar]

What is your opinion about the Maidens in RWBY and their importance?

Hello anon!

I like the Maidens and especially how they explore two main ideas:

1) The concept of cycles and generations.

2) The trope of the chosen one.

THE CYCLE OF SEASONS

I think it is clear Ozpin created the Maidens partly because he wanted guardians and partly as a way to grieve his four daughters. He has symbolically dragged them into the cycle with him and Salem.

In a sense, the story keeps repeating. Salem kills Ozpin, he is reborn and his daughters are victims of the conflict between them.

Because of this, the four Maidens have become one of the many symbols of this endless cycle, which is clealry breaking its protagonists more and more.

This is well conveyed by the Maidens having a season theme. Seasons are in fact linked to the repetition of time aka one of Ozpin’s motifs:

At the same time, the idea of an older woman passing the torch to a younger one can be easily read as a metaphor for a mother-daughter dynamic. This is not always the case, but so far this interpretation is important for two of our four Maidens:

Penny receiving the Maiden’s powers from Fria is important on multiple levels and it plays on Penny alluding to Pinocchio. Fria (The Blue Fairy) recognizes Penny as a real girl, something she has been struggling with since the beginning:

Penny: Ruby... I'm not a real girl.

And is still struggling with:

Cinder: I don’t serve anyone. And you wouldn’t either, if you were built that way.

That said, Penny is not only struggling with enemies that consider her a robot, but also with the (understandable) overprotectiveness of people who love her:

Pietro: I lost you before. Are you asking me to go through that again? No. No. I want the chance to watch you live your life.

Penny: But dad… I am trying to.

She is not only a robot, who wants to prove she is a real girl, but also a daughter, who wants to grow into her own person.

This idea is made even stronger by Penny having been “created” through Pietro’s aura. She is a part of Pietro becoming someone completely different and independent from him. Still, isn’t it what all children are?

Raven is instead Penny’s opposite since she is not a daughter, but a mother. Not only that, but she is a mother, who fails three times.

She fails her biological daughter Yang by abandoning her and putting her in danger.

She fails Vernal, who dies for her.

She fails the previous Spring Maiden, who clearly looked up to her and was betrayed:

Cinder: Vernal was a decoy the whole time. The last Spring Maiden must've trusted you a great deal before she died. I bet that was a mistake...

This is well conveyed by Raven’s case being the opposite of what should ideally happen. Normally an older Maiden should pass her power to a younger girl, so that the cycle keeps going and that a new generation can keep fighting for good. However, Raven steals the powers of the Maiden for herself, just like she uses her shape-shifting ability for selfish objectives:

Ozpin: Everyone has a choice. The Branwens chose to accept their powers and the responsibilities that came with them. And later, one of them chose to abandon her duties in favor of her own self-interest.

She presents herself as a mentor for young women, but in the end she is a failure because she is too self-centered.

In conclusion, Rwby is both a coming of age story and a story that deals with cycles. Let’s think about the many abusive cycles in the story or the damaging cycles present in society, for example. All these cycles need to be broken and I would not be surprised if this will be the case for the cycle of the Maidens as well.

THE CHOSEN ONES

Up until now, the person who should be a Maiden never becomes one.

a) Pyrrha was destined to be the Fall Maiden, but Cinder stole the power.

b) Vernal is foreshadowed to be the Spring Maiden, but Raven turns out to be the real one.

c) Winter has been preparing herself to inherit the Winter’s Maiden’s role, but Penny is the one chosen by Fria.

Why is that so?

The story is clearly playing with the idea of the “chosen one” and asking some questions.

Are people chosen by destiny:

Cinder: It’s unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours.

Or do they choose it?

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility… to try. I don’t think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn’t a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

What if the chosen person is the wrong one?

Lionheart: She was determined, at first, when she inherited her powers, but the weight of responsibility proved to be too much for the child. She... ran. Abandoned her training, everyone. That was over a decade ago. There's no telling where she could be now.

Finally, is it even right to choose a person?

Weiss: Doesn't it bother you? He practically groomed your entire military career.

Winter: It did at first, when the General first proposed it to me. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw it as a privilege, a chance to do some real good for Atlas. For Remnant.

Weiss: But your destiny was chosen for you, without your input.

So far each Maiden has explored this concept in a different way. Moreover, the story has highlighted many problems with the method used by Ozpin and his allies to select their guardians.

First of all there is the machine used to transmit aura:

Ironwood: We've made... significant strides. And we believe we've found a way to capture it.

Qrow: Capture it and cram it into something else. (gestures to Pyrrha as she takes a second to realize what that means) Or in your case ...

Pyrrha: (to Ironwood) That's...

Ironwood: Classified.

Pyrrha: ... wrong!

This method has been presented in-universe as sketchy and unethical both for the person who is having her aura taken and for the person receiving it.

It is also interesting that this machine is basically the technological equivalent of the Grimm used by Salem and Cinder to steal the powers in the first place:

One is the product of destruction (The Brother’s Grimms), while the other is the result of creation (in-universe technology is linked to creation). However, they both do essentially the same thing. They steal another person’s aura and change the one absorbing it:

Raven: You turned yourself into a monster just for power.

Secondly, there is the fact that so far several Maidens have died or have been targeted in horrible ways.

Some of them were specifically attacked because young and less experienced than others, like Amber. Some others made their choice without truly understanding it, like the Spring Maiden. And some of them. like Pyrrha, were not even given all the elements to make an informed choice.

In short:

Hazel: You send children to their deaths for a cause that you know has no victory, no end!

It is true that Hazel is a hypocrite that feels anger for Ozpin sending students to their deaths only to be the one killing them. It is also true that he does not respect his sister’s choice:

Oscar: Did she know the risk of being a Huntress?

Hazel: She was only a child! She wasn't ready!!

Oscar: She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself! So do I.

However, the narrative harshly criticizes Ozpin for not giving people all the information, “the knowledge”, they need to make that choice:

Yang: There was so much you hadn't told us! How could you think that was okay?!

Finally, we arrive at the current volumes where we see how Ironwood has tried to control Penny, Winter and Fria aka all the three people involved in the passage of the Maidens powers...only to fail miserably.

And in this failure probably lies the true mistake which has been made over and over again. The whole point is that probably the whole cycle (thematically) can’t and should not be controlled to this extent:

Goodwitch: At first, the only thing that was certain was that the powers were specifically passed on to young women. But as time went on, it was discovered that the selection process was much more... intimate.

Pyrrha: ... Intimate?

Goodwitch: As we understand it now, when a Maiden dies, the one who is in her final thoughts is the first candidate to inherit her power.

The powers are passed from a person to another through emotions. It is not by chance that the last person in a Maiden’s mind is the one who gets the power. It is because the power is linked to emotions and to ties and you should not try to weaponize them.

MAIDENS AND RELICS

Finally each Maiden is clearly linked to the theme represented by her respective relic.

Pyrrha and Cinder are both linked to the idea of destiny and choosing. I have shared some thoughts on them here.

I would say that Cinder wants to be chosen. She wants to be special and to be given value. This is probably why she is serving Salem. It is because Salem has chosen her for an important role:

Salem: When I chose you as my vessel for the Maidens, I put my trust in you.

This is not positive. It is dehumanizing:

Salem: This game is not yours to win, Cinder, it’s mine. Just because you’re more valuable to me than a pawn, does not make you a player.

But Cinder sees this as a chance.

Pyrrha is instead a person, who chooses her own destiny:

Pyrrha: When I think of destiny, I don’t think of a predetermined fate you can’t escape. But rather… some sort of final goal, something you work towards your entire life.

In other words, Pyrrha has an active role in her own destiny, while Cinder so far has accepted it passively.

This might seem ironic because all in all Cinder has been a pretty active character. She was born as nothing and fought to free herself and to become more powerful. However, she is still leaving her own life in the hands of another person, who is specifically coded as an abusive mother-figure. It is probable that her arc will be about taking back the agency Salem is clearly stealing from her.

This might very well be why she is the Maiden of choice. It is because in the end she’ll make an active choice to get her own freedom back.

At the same time, Pyrrha being active in her choices still leads to her demise. This is because she represents a choice without knowledge, as I have stated in the meta linked above:

She had been explained only a fragment of the truth, while the whole point is that one should learn, meet creation and destruction and then make a choice. This is why we have yet to meet the relic of choice.

As a matter of fact it is clear that knowledge and choice are complementary, just like destruction and creation.

This is highlighted also by their respective relics. On one hand the Lamp offers knowledge of the past. On the other hand the Crown gives its user a vision of a future choice.

This is because one has to know the past to change the future:

Bartholomew Oobleck : History is important, gentlemen! If you can't learn from it... you're destined to repeat it.

In a sense, knowledge is the passive condition of choice, while choice is the active goal of knowledge.

This is why one needs both to contribute to the world in the most effective way possible. If one acts without knowledge they might make the wrong choice. At the same time, knowledge without choice is just passiveness, as shown in The Indecisive King fairy tale.

Too much knowledge might lead to indeciveness or even cynism. This is why Raven is the Spring Maiden. It is because she is Pyrrha’s opposite aka knowledge without choice:

Yang: Which is it, mom? Are you merciful, or are you a survivor? Did you let me walk into that trap because you knew I could handle it, or because it meant you could get what you wanted?!

Raven keeps making decisions only to run away from them immediately after. Knowledge did not make her braver, but just a coward.

Finally we arrive to Penny and the idea of creation.

I have mentioned Penny in the meta linked above:

Penny is an artificial human, a creation who was given life because her father loved her so much that he sacrificed a part of his aura for her… twice. She is at the centre of the theme of creation and it represents the good sides of it. She is a creation with a soul, a child, the fruit of parental love. It is because of the love she received that she is willing to protect creation.

Penny is at the centre of the theme of creation in two ways.

a) She is a child, who wants independence.

b) She is a good declination of technology.

On one hand children are new lives that join the world. They are the embodyment of creation.

On the other hand technology is an expression of human creation and a way humans have to change and influence reality.

Penny is both. She is Pietro’s girl and a robot with a soul:

Pietro: When the General first challenged us to find the next breakthrough in defense technology, most of my colleagues pursued more obvious choices. I was one of the few who believed in looking inward for inspiration.

Ruby: You wanted a protector with a soul.

Pietro: I did. And when General Ironwood saw her, he did too. Much to my surprise, the Penny Project was chosen over all the other proposals.

Ironwood choosing Pietro’s project over others is very interesting and ambiguous. Did he choose this project because at the time he understood the importance of “a protector with a soul”?

Probably consciously yes, but the way he has treated Penny since volume 2 suggests also something different. It suggests a desire of domination. The idea that putting a soul into a metallic body would make it easier to control it.

After all:

Ironwood: For the past few years, Atlas has been studying Aura from a more scientific standpoint; how it works, what's it made of, how it can be used. We've made... significant strides. And we believe we've found a way to capture it.

Each one of humanity’s gift has another side of itself. Knowledge can lead to fear and choice is linked to passivity/agency. When it comes to creation, this gift brings with itself the temptation of control.

Why shouldn’t a creator “own” theis creation? Why shouldn’t they be entitled to it? Why should they share it with the rest of the world?

If one looks at Ironwood, at Atlas and at the other protagonists of this volume this way, a lot of things resonate.

Atlas is the most technological advanced kingdom, but instead of sharing its resources it closes off. Ironwood’s embargo is just another declination of this same idea of losing control.

Similarly the Ace Ops and Winter are all repressing their emotions. They want perfect control over themselves. They are taught they should be like drones.

Technology itself is often misused by the characters. Technolofy should be like Penny. It should have humanity and a soul, but Ironwood likes it because he sees it as something logical that can be controlled (and of course he keeps losing control over it). Ironwood wants to become like he thinks Penny is aka a controllable soul. He fails to understand that Penny is special because she has her own free will.

Finally, this same desire of control is present also in familial relationship. It is not by chance that the Schnee Family is in Atlas. Weiss’s story has always been about exploring this specific idea of a family. A family, which is cold and controlling, just like ice. Weiss’s arc is about melting this ice, in herself first and now in others as well.

Technological control and the control of people. In short, the control over two aspects of creation. This is the the idea Atlas represents and this is why it is currently falling.

In short, the creation must be free and it is not by chance the world is in its current predicament because the Gods tried to control their creations with disastrous results.

CONCLUSION

These are my main thoughts on the Maidens so far. That said, they might chance since the story is far from over as the arcs of all the maidens we have met so far.

As a final note, I find interesting that so far none of our four protagonists is a Maiden. It is an interesting choice and I think that it lets the series make a good use of its ensemble cast.

That said, I wonder if our four protagonists will end up calling back the original Four Maidens instead.

The fairy tale is interesting on multiple levels.

In-universe, it is interesting because it tells us something about how Ozpin was probably inspired by the original Four Maidens to try to save the world again. Ozpin is inspired by four normal people, who are just trying their best to help others.

This is a recurring idea in Rwby and this might be why none of the four protagonists has been selected to be a Maiden yet.

If read as a stand-alone, the story is an interesting tale on how to overcome depression.

The story starts with the old man closed in his house and it shows how he progressively opens up until he himself is able to help others.

Winter is the one who teaches him how to work on his own interiority even when the world is cold.

Springs prepares the terrain for him to come out. It makes the garden more welcoming. It is like when a person has to find the right environment to open herself up.

Summer is the one who finally drags the man out and gives him energy.

Finally Fall is the one who makes the man realize he can now share his new found energy with others.

Theirs is a virtuous cycle and I would say it is very different of the tragic cycle that sees the current Maidens as protagonists. Who knows? Maybe it is about going back to that virtuosity.

Thank you for the ask!

[princesssarisa]

Cinderella September-through-November: "Aschenputtel" (1989 German film)

This German TV film is a generally straightforward, faithful adaptation of Aschenputtel by the Brothers Grimm. It opens with Cinderella (not yet known by that nickname, but her real name is never revealed) enjoying an idyllic picnic with her beloved parents, when a sudden windstorm drives them back to their carriage, and her mother's coughing and clear feebleness makes the ominous foreshadowing all the more blatant. Here her mother reminds her to always be patient and good, and assures her that when she's in heaven she'll watch over her. The next scene, set some time later, reveals that her mother has died, and after a further time skip the Father announces that he's remarrying. Of course the Stepmother and her daughters waste little time before they start to abuse Cinderella, both emotionally and physically, including a scene where they forcibly strip off her elegant dress before giving her rags to wear instead. From then on, the film follows the Grimms' narrative with only small embellishments.

From the Grimm's tale we see the familiar details of the doves who sort lentils for Cinderella and the hazel twig that grows into a tree from her mother's grave. Not only does this tree give her magical gifts, but her mother's spirit speaks to her through it, explaining how the magic works. Also as in the Grimms' tale, there are three balls, but the way they play out is slightly different than in the original tale. Cinderella doesn't go to the first ball, but the tree's magic lets her see the castle from afar and glimpse the Prince through the window. The second ball she does attend, but her mother's spirit warns her to leave at midnight: the only detail this film borrows from Perrault's version of the tale. As per the Grimms, the Prince pursues her all the way home (along with his slightly annoying constant companion, his dwarf jester), and in this retelling he sees her in her rags, but despite getting a clear view of her face, he doesn't recognize his "princess" and rides on. This probably explains why she leaves the third ball of her own accord before midnight, as when the Prince declares his love for her, she feels unworthy because she's not a real princess. But the castle steps have been coated with pitch and one of her golden slippers sticks in it. As in the Grimms' tale, the Stepmother forces her daughters to mutilate their feet to make the slipper fit, but each time, the doves call out to the Prince that there's blood in the shoe. (The foot-cutting isn't shown onscreen, but the blood is.) Meanwhile, Cinderella hides in the dovecote rather than let the Prince see her in her rags again. But in the end she's discovered and this time the Prince instantly and joyfully recognizes her.

Overall, this is a well-done, interesting version of Aschenputtel, but I'll admit that I have mixed feelings about it. The authentic-looking Old World settings are beautiful (although the interior of Cinderella's house is fairly glaring in its whiteness – since it's the setting of her abuse, maybe this is intentional), and the 19th century costumes capture a perfect blend of period realism and fairy tale charm. Especially lovely are the ball scenes filmed at Moritzberg Castle near Dresden, the same castle that served the same purpose in the classic Three Wishes for Cinderella sixteen years earlier. But as a whole, the film often doesn't seem to know whether it wants to be a "realistic," down-to-earth Cinderella or a whimsical fairy tale. Scenes with a stark, mature tone, not least of which are the scenes of Cinderella's abuse and of the stepsisters' bleeding feet, are interspersed with scenes that seem more suited to a children's adaptation: for example, the broadly comic beginning of the third ball, where all the girls are shown wearing silver gowns that copy Cinderella's from the night before, only to faint en masse when she arrives in a golden gown instead. The portrayals of Cinderella's father and (to a lesser extent) the Prince are awkward too. The Father is introduced as a warm, doting parent, but then inexplicably prioritizes his new wife and stepdaughters over his own daughter and turns a blind eye to her mistreatment, while the Prince not only fails to recognize his love in her rags at first, but almost happily rides off with two imposters who look nothing like her! If both men were more buffoonish, their denseness would make more sense, but they're not. At least the Prince redeems himself in the end.

Still, this film does a good job of creating sympathy for Cinderella's plight and making us engage with her journey. Petra Vigna gives a quiet yet effective performance in the role: after her stepfamily shatters her initial childlike innocence, she gains a Jane Eyre-like quality, outwardly submissive and solemn but with a certain stoic dignity about her, and with subtle expressions revealing her inner anger, sadness, wry amusement, defiance, or romantic dreams. The rest of the cast is uniformly strong too, with Krista Stadler standing out as a glamorous, manipulative, coldly cruel Stepmother, and Stephan Meyer Kohlhoff as an appropriately handsome and charming, if undeveloped Prince.

While not a personal favorite Cinderella, this is still a solid version as a whole and very much worth seeing. Especially for those of us who enjoy seeing adaptations of the Grimms' version of the tale, not just the more familiar Perrault.

@ariel-seagull-wings, @superkingofpriderock

[disneyat34]

The Princess and the Frog at 35

A review by Adam D. Jaspering

Disney was one of the final remaining American film companies to deliver classic 2D animation. In 1989, cel animation was discarded in favor of digital ink and paints. In 2002, hand-drawn animation was phased out in the California studio. Originally, 2D animation would be made exclusively at Disney’s satellite studios. That was the plan until 2004, when a string of commercial flops compelled Disney to close these satellite studios. Television animation and home video presentations would continue, but the era of theatrical 2D animation was over.

And somehow, in 2009, Disney released The Princess and the Frog. Another 2D animated film. How did this happen?

The answer is John Lasseter. Lasseter was an animator for Disney in the early 1980s. He was fired after pushing too hard for the implementation of computer animation. He would go on to be one of Pixar’s creative visionaries. He helped transform Pixar from a special effects department at Lucasfilm, to a hardware innovator, to one of America’s greatest film studios.

Long story short, in the mid-to-late 80s, Pixar developed and sold imaging computers. Lasseter made cartoons to demonstrate the abilities of these machines. These cartoons became so popular, and the computer sold so poorly, the company pivoted entirely to animation. In 1995, they released their first feature film, Toy Story. Out of the gate, Pixar began to eclipse Disney in popularity and profits.

Disney made several lowball attempts to acquire Pixar in the 2000s. The constant belittlement soured the two company’s relations. Pixar nearly severed ties between the studios. It was only after the onboarding of CEO Bob Iger in 2006 that a deal was finally struck, bringing Pixar and its assets under the Disney umbrella. 

By this point, Lasseter was the Chief Creative Officer for Pixar. For his efforts and successes over the past 20 years, Iger promoted Lasseter to the Chief Creative Officer of Disney Animation as well.

In 1983, Disney fired John Lasseter for unprofitable and unworkable ideas. In 2006, Disney paid $7.4 billion to acquire Pixar, hoping to copy Lasseter’s strategy and success. Hindsight is a funny thing.

Lasseter sought to revive as much trademarked Disney magic as possible. He restarted Disney’s hand-drawn animation program. He picked a classic fairy tale to serve this purpose. He hired Ron Clements and John Musker, directors of modern classics like The Little Mermaid and Aladdin. And like many classic Disney works, this film would also be a musical.

The Princess and the Frog is an inverted version of The Brothers Grimm story, The Frog Prince. In the original story, a prince was transformed into a frog, and only an act of love could turn him back. Later versions prompted the transformation via a kiss.

The movie takes an interesting approach to storytelling. The film begins with characters actively reading The Frog Prince. It’s a real story in their world. They know it. They’re familiar with it. It’s a famous fairy tale, just as we the audience know it.

As such, the characters are not reenacting the story itself, but a series of events resembling the story. It’s a narrative shortcut. The characters understand the concepts of transformation. They understand the concept of talking animals. They understand a kiss will break the magical curse. It’s still fantasy to them, but they understand it.

This understanding also prompts the film’s inciting incident. Characters misinterpret their circumstances, confusing their real-world predicament with the fictional story. They’re not living the story, just a coincidentally similar set of circumstances. As they try to follow the story to the letter, things don’t work. Trying to break the curse only makes things worse. They’re wrong genre savvy.

There are lots of smaller characters in the movie, but we’ll focus on the big three. Tiana is our main character. She’s a working-class waitress who grew up in relative poverty. She works tirelessly and thanklessly, well below her skills. She’s saving up to start her own restaurant. There are many visual and thematic parallels to her and Cinderella, making Tiana a welcome and deserved inductee to the Disney Princess canon.

The other lead is Prince Naveen, heir to the throne of the fictional kingdom, Maldonia. Naveen is a high-spirited layabout. His lackadaisical attitude has separated him from his royal parents. He visits New Orleans as one of many stops in an attempt to find a wealthy wife to double as a benefactor.

The villain of the picture is Dr. Facilier, a voodoo practitioner and opportunist. He is granted limited magical power by a dark cabal of shadow demons, which he uses for material gain. He uses Naveen as a pawn in his latest scheme. This involves turning Naveen into a frog, beginning the film’s conflict.

The hand-drawn animated appeal is apparent from the movie’s opening scenes. The rigid stiffness of Disney’s CGI efforts is gone. No more awkward and clunky movements. There’s quality in every facet of every scene. There’s dynamism in the fluid motion of a character vaulting across the room. There’s elegance in subtle moments, such as simple hand motions or a shifting of weight. It’s style and craftsmanship absent from Disney animation for half a decade.

The tragedy is, although Disney returned to form in terms of animation, their modern type of storytelling was still present. Honesty, integrity and genuineness were still scorn-worthy approaches. The Princess and the Frog knows The Frog Prince is a silly fable based on a ridiculous premise. Characters mock and lampoon the story’s concept.

Disney thinks The Frog Prince is ridiculous. But they still want to adapt it. But they also want to change it. But they also want to use the unchanged parts on all their marketing. But they want everybody to know these parts are ridiculous. But they want to use the ridiculous aspects as part of the heartfelt Disney magic ideal. The film doesn’t know how to approach its own concept, creating a mishmash of faithfulness and satire. They want to have their beignets and eat them too.

The Princess and the Frog is also judgmental of previous Disney works. Pinocchio’s noble aspiration of wishing upon a star is now declared childish and ineffectual. It’s an odd stance to take, undoing one of the core pieces of iconography of the Disney Corporation. Moments earlier, they played the instrumental “When You Wish Upon a Star” over the Disney logo. Now they’re insisting it’s an outdated philosophy.

The film states plainly that wishing is ineffective. Instead, the true merit of following one’s dreams is a strong will to act. This lesson, imparted to young Tiana by her father, is later redacted (or at the very least, amended). Which raises the question, if the film is going to pivot on its bold claim, why bother making the claim in the first place? Why drag Pinocchio into the spotlight if the revisionist accusation doesn’t benefit or support the final thesis?

Despite the film’s eagerness to distance itself from The Frog Prince and the Disney canon, not every update is irrelevant. Some changes work incredibly well, giving the the film a distinct style and setting. Choosing to place the film in Jazz Age New Orleans is a stroke of creative genius. It’s iconic, evocative, underrepresented, and a logical place to have frogs and magic existing side-by-side.

That said, the movie does indulge in its New Orleans setting. The movie hits every single trademark and stereotype of The Big Easy, and doesn’t feel shy about it. Scenes feature Bourbon Street and streetcars. Characters listen to Dixieland jazz throughout. The film is set during Mardi Gras. Much of the movie takes place in a bayou. The villain practices voodoo. There is a paddleboat. The heroine is an aspiring chef who takes pride in beignets, gumbo, and étouffée. An alligator named Louis talks, acts, and plays trumpet like Louis Armstrong. Another character is a Cajun stereotype. The climax takes place in a graveyard. There is literally a character named “Big Daddy.” It’s all a bit much.

Tiana is a cook by trade. She has a refined palate, culinary skills, and the drive to run a busy kitchen. Unfortunately, due to societal circumstances, she’s denied any opportunity to use those skills. Instead, she works menial waitressing jobs, saving up to open her own restaurant, one dollar at a time. It’s the only escape from the cycle of poverty.

The film begins with Tiana days away from achieving her goal. Ignoring the fact that she’s clearly not getting a happy ending in the film’s first twenty minutes, let’s consider the circumstances. Tiana is a Black woman living in the American south, post Civil War, pre Civil Rights. She’s trying to own property, start a business, and move up the societal ladder.

The decision to make Tiana Black wasn’t an arbitrary decision. The writers knew telling a story about a Black woman, especially in this location and era, came with baggage. Tiana’s race is not the main focus of the film, and her racial struggles are relegated to a single scene, but it’s present. The filmmakers electively chose to address this topic, and that’s for the better.

The movie not only trusts its audience with the heavy theme, but has respect for the characters and what they represent. Making Tiana Black was more than a marketing decision to sell toys (although, let’s be honest, Disney was well aware it would be a fringe benefit).

Handled too aloofly, it looks like you don’t care. Handled too harshly, you ruin the tone of the film. Disney handles the dicey topic delicately. Especially considering its placement in a film featuring talking animals. There are no acts of violence or verbal epithets. Tiana isn’t assaulted, threatened, or even yelled at. She’s simply undervalued and dismissed.

Tiana is denied the deed to the property she’s selected for her restaurant. She was promised the building, she can rightfully pay for it, but the bankers change the rules on her at the last minute. Her identity isn’t the direct reason, but it is cited as a contributing factor. Moments after destroying her life’s work, the bankers compliment the pastries she’s baked.

It’s a perfect demonstration of systemic bigotry and the passive ignorance of its participants. It’s purposeful, tragic, illustrative, and all without being exploitive or upsetting the film’s G-rating.

It also displays Disney’s growth and evolving values. Disney once had a cartoon bird put on a minstrel show. The animators named him “Jim Crow” as a pun, never thinking of any ramifications. Nearly 70 years later, Disney presents a Black character trying to overcome Jim Crow laws. It’s been a long journey for the company.

While Disney does depict the negative reality of racist society, it’s not a perfect portrayal. The rest of the movie fudges certain details of segregation. By which I mean, there’s no depiction of segregation. Black characters and white characters are seen riding the same streetcars, eating in the same restaurants, and living in the same neighborhood. The Princess and the Frog demonstrates racial tension when it benefits a character’s struggles, but demonstrates racial harmony when it benefits the romanticized setting.

Anachronistic progressivism undercuts the purpose of race as a theme. Trying to depict New Orleans as an integrated paradise makes for nice visuals and musical numbers. But a film using race as a theme needs to make a statement beyond “Racism is Bad.” Otherwise it implies racism isn’t an ongoing problem of society, but something random jerks did in the past.

Still, things could have been much worse. Original treatments of the film presented Tiana not as a waitress, but as a housemaid for a white family. A position of indentured servitude that, while not technically slavery by 1920s legal standards, was equally inescapable and demeaning through lack of agency. Early character sheets gave Tiana the name “Maddy,” a diminutive form of the name Madeline. It was likely an innocuous choice, but “Maddy” is dangerously close to “Mammy,” the name of a derogatory caricature for Black women. Even the film’s working title “The Frog Princess,” didn’t seem to indicate Tiana would be turned into a frog, but the concept of her being a princess is froglike.

These problems were fixed in development, but other problems weren’t. Chiefly, Tiana spends the overwhelming part of the movie not as a Black woman, but as a green frog. Tiana is turned into a frog at the 30-minute mark. With the exception of a brief dream sequence, she doesn’t become human again until three minutes from the film’s conclusion. Disney was proud of Tiana being their first Black princess. It was a major selling point of the film. And yet, Tiana’s face and identity are hidden for nearly two-thirds of the movie.

Disney was in a treacherous situation. They had to faithfully depict a Black heroine for the first time, without treating her identity as a novelty or token representation. Maybe they picked the wrong story for their first Black lead. Maybe they were too focused on the Jazz Age setting above all else. Maybe they didn’t want to approach difficult subject matter, but felt obligated to acknowledge it, leaving it underdeveloped. Whether or not they succeeded is up for interpretation. Whatever the case, The Princess and the Frog landed somewhere between saying something profound and seriously screwing up.

Tiana is Disney’s first Black hero, but Prince Naveen’s heritage is ambiguous. He’s the heir to the throne of a foreign nation, but it’s never indicated where that nation is. It’s ostensibly Mediterranean Europe, but equally possible North Africa, Latin America, or Caribbean. He’s foreign, he’s non-White, but he’s not granted any national identity beyond that. For all the ambitious progressivism, Disney was hesitant to definitively depict an interracial relationship.

Naveen has been cut off from his family’s fortune for being a leech, though it’s never explained what that entails. One can’t imagine how the crown prince of a nation could transgress so severely through inaction. How could the son of royalty be so spoiled compared to any other royal figure? Somebody on the writing staff has probably written an explanation of Naveen’s circumstances and transgressions. But the movie brushes it off as an unnecessary detail.

Prince Naveen is one of the most dynamic and engaging princes in the Disney canon. It’s an odd mantle, considering how little we actually know about him and his background. He’s jovial, upbeat, flirtatious, musically inclined, has a good sense of humor, and is very personable with everyone he meets.

For such a bold character, it’s insulting how little the movie uses him. Disney gives us the absolute minimum understanding of Naveen, his life, and his curse. He’s technically a main character, but his purpose in the film is supporting Tiana. A switch flips in his head telling him not to be self-absorbed, and that’s his entire character arc.

Prince Naveen is accompanied by a put-upon lackey who resents his subservient position. Lawrence the Servant is a chronic upset to the film’s pacing. He has no distinct personality and no unique character traits. He has no character arc, and despite his duplicity, is treated like a hapless rube who should never be treated seriously. He’s a stock character who gets way too much screen time. Who is this guy, and why should we care? Two questions the film doesn’t want to waste time answering.

The movie feels like the first draft of a story. All the elements of a great fable are present, but certain parts are underdeveloped while others are unconnected. Side characters have too much attention. Main characters have no depth. Broad themes are more aspirational than representational.

This first-draft theory also explains the movie's pacing. Once Tiana and Naveen turn into frogs, the romance-tinted fable turns into a road movie. They can’t turn back until the movie's over. They can't do anything heroic because they're frogs. So the movie pauses their previously established stories, placing them in an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar challenges. Far away from the celebrated New Orleans, deep into the alien Louisiana swamps.

To reiterate: A strong wind takes our heroes far from home. They go on a long journey, hoping to find a famed magic practitioner at the end of the road to help them. Along the way, they pick up kind-hearted and sympathetic colleagues who agree to help. They too hope to have their desires fulfilled as well. The movie is definitely cribbing a little too close to The Wizard of Oz for comfort.

It's Disney's worst habit: prolong the movie by making characters travel. In the meanwhile, we have moments of introspection wrapped between meaningless fluff. Naveen and Tiana run afoul of frog hunters. Naveen and Tiana attend a Cajun firefly hoedown. Naveen and Tiana try to acclimate to their uncomfortable frog tongues and bodies. Naveen and Tiana enjoy a romantic ride on a paddleboat. Naveen and Tiana make a pot of gumbo together. It's one of two dinner scenes, and they're only gone for a day.

The greatest demonstration of the undeveloped writing is the villain, Dr. Facilier. Also known as The Shadow Man (since Disney knows full well their target audience would have trouble reading and spelling such a name), he has no real attachment to the film’s heroes. He doesn't know them, he has no ill will towards them, and he's only indirectly involved in their suffering.

Dr. Facilier is a small time hustler, bilking people out of dollars through cheap cons and parlor games. But he has aspirations. He wants more money. He wants more power. And he knows how to get it. He just needs the right opportunity. Naveen, the visiting overseas dignitary, is that opportunity.

The big scheme is to manipulate Naveen’s carefree lifestyle. Dr. Facilier promises him a lifetime free of responsibility. The hook being, Dr. Facilier implies he’s providing riches, but instead turns Naveen into a frog. He frequently makes promises of "green,” a pun I can’t decide is clever or groanworthy.

The other half of the plan involves transforming Lawrence into a carbon copy of Naveen. In disguise, he'd marry the daughter of the town’s richest man. After which, they kill her father and inherit the money. And somewhere along the way, they capture the souls of the citizens of New Orleans, appeasing the dark spirits that give Dr. Facilier his magic powers.

Dr. Facilier's plan is off the rails. The film does a poor job explaining how every element relates to each other. Why does Lawrence have to get married before Big Daddy can be assassinated? Why doesn’t Dr. Facilier kill Big Daddy without this rigmarole? Why does he have to kill Big Daddy to doom other people? How does money play into anything? Why doesn’t Dr. Facilier simply impersonate Naveen himself? Why is turning Naveen specifically into a frog a requisite step in the plan? Why not just render him unconscious, or lock him in a room?

It all seems like a very convoluted thread to justify a bunch of independent story decisions. Disney was working their way backwards. They needed a villain to pose a massive threat. That threat needed to involve transforming the heroes into a frog. They had two disconnected story elements, so they connected the dots as best they could.

Dr. Facilier is different from other evil witches and wizards in the Disney pantheon in that he’s not the curator of his own powers. They’re provided to him by his so-called “Friends on the Other Side.” He provides them with damned souls, they provide him with magical tools to conduct magic. This would be an interesting hook if we ever saw him actually capturing souls instead of playing practical jokes.

As deliciously evil as Dr. Facilier is, he weighs down the film. He’s a great villain from a design standpoint. He’s bold, fast-talking, energetic, smarmy, sarcastic, threatening, and powerful. But as great as he is to watch and to see (especially his psychedelic visuals and musical number), he damages the film in the long run.

Dr. Facilier could be cut from the film completely. This story doesn’t need a villain at all. If Naveen were turned into a frog by some unseen entity, forcing him and Tiana to return home without any overarching antagonist, the film would have more cohesion and better suit the characters. A ticking clock threatening the loss of their humanity are the only necessary stakes. Dr. Facilier and Tiana don't even meet until the end of the film; how can they be adversaries?

The moral of the film is to “Dig a Little Deeper.” The path to happiness is not relentless pursuit of one’s desires, but to fulfill one’s needs. Naveen and Tiana are desperate to return to being human. So much so, they don’t realize they need each other to achieve their goals. Literally and figuratively. Yes, a much-suspected kiss is what breaks the curse. But also, the two provide what’s been missing from their respective lives. Naveen realizes he needs to be more responsible and Tiana needs to allow herself to be happy.

The major theme of The Princess and the Frog is what a person needs and what a person wants are often two different things. Disney and John Lasseter wanted to revisit the nostalgia of Disney’s golden years. What they needed was to demonstrate Disney’s commitment to new ideas and quality entertainment.

Disney acquired one of the most successful and acclaimed film studios in the world. They gave one of Pixar’s creative visionaries full control of Disney’s resources, hoping he would bring Pixar magic to Disney Animation. Instead, he made a movie completely unlike Pixar.

In 2007, Disney made a film touting the virtue “Keep Moving Forward.” In 2009, they tried to move backwards and were shocked it didn’t work. The Princess and the Frog failed to retake its $105 million budget domestically, making the film a financial loss. The newly reinstated 2D Disney animation studio would close again in 2013.

The lesson was clear: audiences were done with 2D animation. To kids born in the 21st century, it looked outdated and antiquated. What’s more, the zeitgeist in the animated market shifted. Fantasy and romance were less attractive to kids, who preferred comedic and adventure-tinged films. Titling the film “The Princess and the Frog” didn’t help either, ostracizing the male demographic. It made the film seem exclusively for girls.

The Princess and the Frog tries to split the difference between classic and modern Disney fare. In doing so, it falters. It offers a movie that looks fantastic and lively, but the individual parts don't compliment each other. It has many great ideas, but doesn't incorporate them well. 

A movie is like a pot of gumbo: everything going into the pot has to contribute to the final dish. The Princess and the Frog is more like a shopping cart: all the right ingredients, but not nearly enough work done to them.

Beauty and the Beast Fantasia The Lion King Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs Cinderella Alice in Wonderland Sleeping Beauty Mulan The Little Mermaid Aladdin Lilo & Stitch The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh Pinocchio The Jungle Book Robin Hood The Sword in the Stone Bambi The Emperor’s New Groove The Hunchback of Notre Dame The Princess and the Frog The Great Mouse Detective 101 Dalmatians Bolt The Three Caballeros Lady and the Tramp The Rescuers Down Under Atlantis: The Lost Empire The Fox and the Hound Fantasia 2000 Peter Pan Dumbo Hercules Meet the Robinsons Brother Bear The Black Cauldron Melody Time Oliver & Company Treasure Planet Tarzan The Rescuers Pocahontas Saludos Amigos The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad The Aristocats Dinosaur Fun and Fancy Free Make Mine Music Home on the Range Chicken Little

[razorblade180]

OC test: Survive pt1

Each character has been split off from one another by hard light fields to form a circular ring divided evenly; with a safe zone in the very center. They can all see and hear each other, but that’s it. All characters will face grimm at the same time. The type of grimm is dependent on what will give that individual trouble. Once a character defeats their grimm, it is their choice to what zone they want to go to next to help. The test is over when a winner in every zone has been decided.

Aero:Anybody getting Saw vibes from this, or at least something sinister?

Kovu:It did say “a winner” meaning the grimm might own us.

Summer:Remember the good old days where a test was make breakfast? I do...

Veronica:Just don’t fuck up and you’ll be fine. I’m ready for everything!

Sienna:Aren’t you technically a civilian?

Veronica:Pfft, I can still kick butt. I’m a Xiao Long!

Jacquelyn:I think the test is beginning.

Yujin stretches out her wrists and grabs her sword. It was soon after that ten pools of grimm opened up with Ursa Majors clawing out, fully armored and foaming at the mouth. One final pool had a King TaijituYujin wasn’t expected anything less, yet she was still upset. “I am sick and tired of these stupid things! Why all at once!?”

“Because it’s called survival...” Tenzen said, witnessing dozens of baby deathstalkers marching towards his as hives of lancers swarmed above. “Guess I’m playing exterminator...” he syched himself up, before a Beringel came stampeding in. It beat on it’s chests and let out a roar. “And....fighting baby King Kong...”

Jael hadn’t wasted any time making headway on her test. She knew herself pretty well and what she could handle. That still did not entirely prepare herself to fend of eight fully grown manticore in aerial combat. “So this is a manticore? Yeah, about what I expect .” She said , dodging their fireballs. “Air or land, they seem pretty dangerous. Guess I got no real advantage, yet.”

Sparrow was on the ball. Military training served him well. Armed only with an Atlesian pistol and a fishing rod, he controlled the battle ground. His mother had taught him long ago what his limits were and how to make up for them. A single Sphinx flew down to swipe at him. The young man back stepped and shot a high powered round at its foot. The beast roared before trying to fly.

“Oh no you don’t!” He casted the line right in the Sphinx’s mouth and yanked back down on the injure foot. “You’re gonna move the way I want you to!” Another round hit its front paw, making the creatures spin around, using its snake tail. Sparrow had already dropped the line and cought the second beast. He didn’t hesitate to press his gun right to its eye and blow up the head of the...tail. “Whoo! Still got it!”

While several of the kids quickly understood their enemies, others were left a little perplexed. Sienna was one of these people. “Uhhh I know Remnant is a big place, but since when do grimm look like roaches?” She stuttered.

The question got many to take a glance. Yep, roaches, but not the small kind. These roaches looked on par with the size of house cats. The black insects with bone white wings scattered around the floor. Several stood on two legs while grinding their human-like teeth together that made a shrill noise Sienna found personally irritating. The only Kovu alone seemed to grasp that situation.

“Don’t run! Walk in big circle! They’ll be huddled up that way!” He shouted. Sienna followed his instructions without question. The heard of roaches began following her on two legs while the others reached outward.

“Ohhh don’t like that!” Sienna looked at Kovu with a look that said, “what I’m the actual hell” very apparently. “Kovu-”

“They’re called Feasters. Do not let them swarm you and do not run! They will get on all of their legs and be much faster. Also don’t jump! They fly; just whack them with your chain.”

Sienna did just that. “I hate this I hate this I hate this, they’re so many! And that stupid noise!!!! Agh, my ears!” She winced. A second of stopping prompted the infestation to lunge at her like a wave. Sienna quickly tumbled backwards and kept walking. The last thing she wanted was for those things to take a bite of her. All things considered though, this was manageable. The benefit of no semblance she supposed. “How we looking everyone?”

“Peachy!” Veronica yelled, rider kicking a Tar Maw, a voracious gator like grimm that had a bond white back with black carvings. It’s red eyes glared and the tar black underside dripped like a leaky faucet. The sixteen foot beast opened its gaping mouth, hurling up grimm fluid before diving into it and through the ground subsequently; as it the dirt itself has become as flowing as water. Veronica phased through the ground to try and hit it from underneath but was shocked to see the beast diving down for her. Along with two more smaller but equally dangerous Tar Maws. Quickly, Veronica shot upward through the ground and into the air to barely avoid the the creatures that burst through the ground almost as forceful as her.

“As if one wasn’t enough.” Veronica snarled. Her body rolled forward midair to deliver a swift axe kick to one of the grimm’s hid, knocking it into the others. “I think Summer and I finally agree on something! I miss breakfast tests!”

“Glad you see it my way...” Summer groaned, watching a Arma Gigas rise. She looked over to her brother’s section to see the same exact expression of annoyance. Of course he had one as well. Nick looked at her as if she could do anything about it. “I know, it sucks.”

“Royally.” He added. Nick armed himself with Mort Froide and placed 15 upright ice glyphs around it in a diamond formation. His next move was summoning a gigas blade in his left hand before running towards the emerging knight that has yet to form from the shins down. With limited options it swung its blade which Nick proceeded to jump onto an continuing his charge towards its face. “I’ve killed one before. I can do it again!” Nick jumps at the face to slash it but is knocked back by a headbutt. Fully formed, the gigas bends its knees to prepare a jumping slash. However, blades of ice rockets out of the glyphs, wedging themselves between the knees and ankle armor space to stall movement long enough for Nick to recover. He runs his head and grunts, “Gah, okay. This one has a bet more heft. Noted...”

Valerie watched her two closest friends head off to fight their grueling challenge. “Always setting the pace.” She faced forward towards a fresh Nucklevee, free of any armor but still big enough to be a problem. “What, is this some kind of generational test? Too bad dad isn’t here. He’d love this!” Valerie leaped forward, twirling her battle axe before smashing it into the ground to break up the floor. “Can’t let move easily.” She leaped again.

The Nucklevee shot it’s arms out into the crushed floor and then upwards, it’s hands full of rocks. They flew up and over Valerie before crushing the rubble. A cloud of dirt and debris rain down and struck her back, throwing her balance off. Both arms came plummeting downwards to wrap her up and slammed them into the earth.

“It’s thinking!? But it’s new!” Valerie struggled trying to break free of the elastic grasp. “Huh?” She looked up to see the horse mouth exhale a plume of black smoke along the floor and headed right to her. “That’s not good...” through pure strength and will, Valerie got to her feet and started pulling with all her might. The arms wiggled and where dragged up from the ground but would not break. The fog crawled closer and closer until the edges of it began stinging her skin on her ankles like fire. “Gah! Aw screw it!” She yelled, taking a deep breath and releasing the tension of her struggling. Her entire body slingshotted forward through the smoke and to the best, striking it with a double kick to the skeleton like face. It’s arms finally loosened enough for her to escape. She went to sever an arm until the beast turned around and struck her with it’s massive hind hooves. Val tumbled back and onto her legs. A strange numbness and pain resided in her ankles. Moving felt...odd. Valerie looked up to see the fog continue to spread and the beast beginning to charge. “Tsk..” Maybe it was best her father wasn’t here after all?.

In a other section, a much better circumstance was taking place for Lucas. The man effortlessly weaved around the onslaught of razor sharp feathers, bouncing some back to clip the Nevermore wings that sent them. It helped, but only a little considering he was dealing with an entire flock. Multiple enemies that used a wind ranging attack with multiple projectiles. Quite the headache for one who sees the future. So he did what he always did, not even try.

“One thing at a time Lucas. This moment, right now.” He said to himself as more feathers rained. He transformed his blade into a whip and began flailing it to deflect only what he could see and hear coming his way. The moment he found an opening he would swimg the whip around the bird’s neck and yank it down for him to cleave it. A simple strategy, effective. However, it was time consuming. Not a problem for him specifically, but his mind could only think about the people around him. He hadn’t been paying close attention to all of them, but the screaming grimm he could hear outside his zone let him know they weren’t all getting lucky in this test. “EVERYONE OKAY!?”

“NO!” Aero cried as he crashed to the ground, his wings covered in webs. The flexed it off the best he could while avoiding Soul Suckers, enormous spider grimm that had a real bad habit of draining aura and turning people into soulless husks that were robbed of will. Seven of the bastards shot dense web at him in an attempt to do just that. Aero spread his wings and slammed them towards the ground, rocketing himself upward with one powerful flap. “I AM NOT EQUIPPED FOR THESE!”

“They have spider grimm!?” Lucas said with concern. “That’s just sadistic...”

“You’re telling me!?” Aero looked over to Mona’s section, who was dealing with a single Goliath. Her spry nature allowed her to maneuver around its legs, quickly attacking. Unfortunately she was up against a Goliath. Simple daggers might as well be paper cuts. “You hanging in there Mona!?” He asked before having to dodge more webs.

“Worry about yourself Bird Boy!” She yelled sprinting. Mona went into a one armed hand spring onto its trunk and rolled onto its back, sliding down it with her dagger running through it shallowly before hitting armored bone; killing her momentum and hurting her shoulders. “Shit!” She winced. She yanked her blade out and jumped off as the Goliath’s trunk tried grabbing her. “Uuuggh this big bitch might as well be made of clay!” She pulled out her second dagger and took one giant lunge that sent her flying like a bullet. Mona began spinning like a sideways buzz saw as she went by the grimm’s left and right leg, making an average size gash. Not enough to cripple it but enough to piss it off.

The thief couldn’t stop her speed correctly and ended up tumbling along the ground and barely missing a tree. Her head buzzed loudly and her vision blurred enough to not realize the two ton monster charging until it was severely feet away. “Oh f-” she tried blocking. The tusks were aimed right for her blades but suddenly, her entire body was shot up in the air and away from the attack. “Aaah! What the heck!?”

“Stop screaming!”

Mona was spun around to see Eliza hovering with the power of wind. “How the- you finished!?”

“Yeah I had those gross centipedes and a couple annoying alphas with majors as well.” Eliza said. She causally pointed behind her to a zone charred beyond belief. “My semblance was useless so I had to go all out from the start. Guess you’re in a similar situation? Let’s waste this thing.”

“Hmm you’re lucky I like the way you look. I’ll take you up on that, not that needed help.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe I should’ve checked in with Kovu!” She looked his way. “But considering with Carmine said I’m sure his challenge-”

“oPeN UuuP...” gurgled a cold, torn voice. One that reached all ears, freezing grimm and human alike. It came from Kovu’s section. There the young man sat pinned and shaken up. Nothing but the dust barrier against his back and his own bubble-like barrier in front of it, constructed from his golden aura. The thing gnawing it, a very big and very aggressive Hound. It’s teeth grated against the aura, barely cracking it but cracking it nonetheless. “oPeN UuuP...”

Kovu’s face dripped sweat. His arms were completely stiff from trying to maintain his gaurd. “Guys, I don’t want to sound needy, but...” he grunted.

Several of his friends began working harder on their matches. Yujin and Veronica in particular had a fire lit inside them to make sure Kovu would be okay.

“Hang on Kovu!” Yujin yelled. “Just give me a bet of time and-”

“I thought you wanted to be a huntsman?” Carmine interjected, gaining Kovu’s attention. “I thought you wanted to try and catch up to me, but you’re asking for help this quickly? Not only that, but now you’ve caused others to worry more about you which could make them rush and make a mistake that’ll be disastrous. Hmm, I thought better of you than that.” She said bluntly.

He said nothing. Veronica on the other hand. “Hey!” She had a few words. “Isn’t that your cousin!? You of all people should be-”

“Worried?” Carmine finished. “I’m not saying I’m not, but I’m more worried about the thing behind me, I’m case none of you payed attention.” Carmine looked over her shoulder to the massive grimm pool that all but filled the entire area and continued to flow.

Of course nobody else noticed. It wasn’t big enough to caste a shadow over them all until this moment. Once again eyes looked to see the danger but it was their ears that heard it before anything else. A deafening roar that shook the ground like a disaster. Carmine fully turned around to look at her opponent. It was cruel. Downright evil to the letter. What could she have possibly done to earn-

“Leviathan!?” Tenzen yelled.

“I know right? It’s ridiculous.” Carmine said, a bead of sweat running down her head. “I rather switch with Jacquelyn.”

“Hehe, is that a fact?” She laughed nervously, witnessing the creation of a fully realized dragon staring her down as the shook off excess fluid. Yet another huge thing that nobody but Carmine was aware of apparently because they were once again floored. Not necessarily at the beasts even though they were scary, but because that was two people’s test!”

Yujin looked briefly at Carmine in awe. “You can take down Leviathan!?”

“What? Hell no! Are you crazy!?” Carmine said, unapologetically. “That thing is a kingdom killer! Look it’s flattering that you all seem to think I’m super badass but you do know I’m one person right?”

“Well when you say it like that I sound stupid. Didn’t Ruby beat one of those?” Yujin said, dodging.

“My mother flashed her eyes while a giant robot sucker punched it with a drill. Her eyes didn’t even do much but make it stuck for three seconds. Nobody just beats a Leviathan!” Carmine brandished her sword to face it. Her eyes looked back towards to see her cousin still struggling. “....Did you all know Kovu has never beaten me in a fight? He’s always been a pretty average fighter. That being said, I could never knock him out or keep him down for long. He’s resilient as hell. Almost like surviving is his special talent.”

“Carmine...” Kovu uttered.

“Surviving doesn’t mean winning. I’m definitely not about to win this and I doubt Jacquelyn over there is coming up with a grand slam plan to solo a dragon. Buying time though, I can do that all day.” The leviathan shot out a breath of immense flames. Carmine dove out of the way immediately. “Do not make me do this all day. I’m tired. Twenty minutes at best. More than enough time for anyone to lend a hand and then some, right?” Without another word, she got to work.

Carmine was an odd ball. If she had said anything like that to a stranger, it may have come off as rambling. But those around her in this test, they got the girl’s message. Kovu most of all, while Jacquelyn understood from the start given her enemy. Twenty minutes. Nobody was to aid her for that long or to worry. Carmine had temporarily removed herself the equation. One less thing for other’s to worry about.

“Twenty one.” Kovu said. “I got this mutt right where I want him for twenty one minutes.” Sure he was being optimistic, but this barrier bursting wasn’t game over right away. Like Carmine said, he was resilient.

Jacquelyn couldn’t help but smile. Part of it was the touching pep talk. The other was nervousness because no way was she about to put herself before kids. “Ah what the hell. I’m the winter maiden. A badass one at that. Thirty.” Her eyes glowed.

“Of course they want to out do me” Carmine chuckled. Alright everyone, nothing fancy! Those who know they can win, will. All others, do this test, survive!

Finally the stage was set. Everyone was on track. “Right!!!”

[obeymeluv]

Give Me Noods [Mammon x Reader]

I’m new to the fandom. Just thought of this and couldn’t let it go. It’s SFW.

Border from cutekaomoji.

『• • • ✎ • • •』 『• • • ✎ • • •』 『• • • ✎ • • •』 『• • • ✎ • • •』

 Being human means you can’t have some Devildom foods but a witch has the solution! You just need Devil’s Tongue.

『• • • ✎ • • •』 『• • • ✎ • • •』 『• • • ✎ • • •』 『• • • ✎ • • •』

 Give Me Noods [Mammon x Reader]

There was a lot to get used to when it came to being a transfer student in the Devildom—classes, people with tails and horns, real magic, stairs…so many fucking stairs—and food was a big one. While explaining almost everything one could hope to learn about the Devildom, they often forgot about the intricacies of their own food. Some food actually tried to eat you back or put up a fight! You were really grateful when mashed potatoes turned out to be just mashed potatoes. A few succubi from your Latin class giggled and cooed over how apprehensive you were, poking at today’s food.

Looked like some sort of meat in a gravy sauce. You were pretty sure that Brussel sprout-looking thing just closed itself though, little baby leaves rustling in defiance. They showed you how to peel away the bitter outer leaves and open it up to reveal a sweet, crunchy center that tasted like Caesar salad. “Weird,” you whispered into your fork, suspicious of how yummy and tender the meat was. The gravy was very flavorful, if not a little salty.

It definitely made up for some of the other things you’d tried so far.

“What’s wrong?” one asked you, looking absolutely smitten. These Devildom people had a thing for humans—apparently you were rare?—and you were still getting used to it. You felt like a class pet.

“Nothing, I just—” you caught a whiff of something spicy and sweet that made your mouth water. It made you perk up a little bit, much to the delight of the succubi. They thought it was funny when you got excited about their boring world. “Do you smell that? It smells good!”

Succubi noses were different than human noses, and your definition of ‘smells good’ was totally different. You were trying to explain how it smelled like the best thing ever, something spicy and savory that demanded to be eaten.

“What needs to be eaten?” you nearly jumped out of your skin, a shock of orange hair coming into view. You were a lot closer to Beelzebub than you thought! He unfolded himself from the lunch table, casually holding a tray full of food as he looked at you.

“The yummy, spicy thing!” you were excited now. Beel could see the stars in your eyes and it made him grin. He finished the burger and moved onto a jerky-wrapped hunk of…something. There were several spicy items in the Devildom—spiced kraken sticks, fire-roasted devil bird, Hell pepper-stuffed pig—but he didn’t recall any of them being served today. Mammon plunked down at the table, his self-declared arrival ignored.

He ripped open a packet of hell sauce and stirred it into the hot noodles. “It smells like--! Mammon, what are you eating?” Mammon nearly choked on the coated noodles when he looked up at the sheer curiosity and hunger shining in your eyes. He grew up with Beel, he knew that look! “These are my noodles!” he grumped, stuffing more into his mouth and turning away sharply. The pointed edge of his teeth glinted in the light, his greedy demon ways shining through.

“I just want to know what it is, I’d like to try it!” you assured him. Mammon eyed you suspiciously, well aware that Beel could wrestle the noodles away from him. Sure he could just tell you, being THE great Mammon and all, but where was the fun in that?

“You got any Grimm on you?” Mammon licked a tiny piece of noodle from the corner of his lip, sizing you up. It was more a joke than anything, but if you wanted to donate out of the kindness of your heart…

One of the succubi at your back hissed and Mammon scoffed in return. Beel gave him a cold, piercing look. Mammon sniffed, turning his nose up at the disapproval. “She lives with us,” Beel reminded.

“And you shouldn’t be rude to house guests, dirty Mammon!” Asmodeus cut in as he sat down, offering for one of the succubi to squeeze in beside him.

“They’re hell-sauce noodles.” Mammon grumbled into the cup.

“Thanks Mammon!” you flashed him a smile he shouldn’t like and didn’t care about because that would be stupid while turning to ask the girls if they had anymore up front. They whisked you away to find them, all too eager to see how the little human reacted.

“You shouldn’t get her hopes up,” Satan shook his head as he picked at his lunch. “Humans can’t eat them. It’ll make them sick.”

“All I did was tell her, and I didn’t even charge her! Not my fault if she can’t eat it!” Mammon shrugged as he went back to scarfing down his noodles. Although there was a twinge of guilt that you would never know the wallet-busting greatness of hell-sauce noodles, Mammon couldn’t feel bad for the package that would end up in the pantry. He just had to get to them before Beel.

His great plan was foiled when he came home to Lucifer, Lord Diavolo, the succubus that’d hissed at him, and an unknown woman standing in the foyer. Then again, his plan was ruined when that withered excuse of a professor gave him a lecture for being on his D.D.D. He was checking his business prospects, thank you very much! Mammon slipped past the group, starting for the kitchen when he overheard something that made him stop entirely.

“So she could eat these if she had Devil’s Tongue.”

“All this for some noodles? I don’t want to kill anyone.” You shook your head with a disappointed sigh. The noise was abruptly swallowed by the raucous laughter of several people. Your human brain would think Devil’s Tongue meant the part itself, but Mammon knew better. That other one must be a witch, then, Mammon’s eyes narrowed behind his yellow sunglasses as a slinked up around the edge of the wall.

“It’s a protective spell,” the witch explained. “Devil’s Tongue would prevent your mouth from being destroyed by the hell-sauce.”

“We shared hell-sauce with some humans once,” the succubus said, “it led to the creation of a lot of your hot sauces but they eventually went mad from the heat.”

“To an obsessive degree,” the witch added grimly. “Some say that’s where hot-tempered people came from.”

“This hell-sauce won’t do that to you, though. It’s been bred down for a couple of centuries.” Beel smiled warmly, a bit of drool threatening to dot the corner of his mouth as the witch waved your pack of noodles around.

“But the heat could make you very sick,” the witch cautioned. “Much worse than your human-world peppers. Those peppers never could accurately capture hell-sauce flavor, but you ended up with a lot of varieties. A small success, I suppose.”

You knew devils made their way into human mythology but never imagined they had anything to do with your food. A food history class would be an interesting elective! You made a mental note to ask Lucifer or Diavolo if they had one to take after you ate these damn noodles. Satan looked like he wanted to add onto the conversation and before he could—bless his nerdy heart—you gently wrestled the pack away from the witch and squeezed it. “I want these noodles. How can I eat them?”

“With the blessing of Devil’s Tongue.” The witch said again, a vague smile playing at her lips. It sharpened and turned smug.

“Meaning?”

“A simple kiss. A blessing of the devil’s tongue.”

Surely a kiss on the lips was acceptable! “That’s it?” just don’t look at any of the hot guys and don’t think about it. It’ll probably only take a second! You’d just barely tilted your chin up, subconsciously bracing yourself as Asmo flew in from who knew where. The blur of wings and perfect hair never caught up to you, Mammon snatching you up in a body-crushing whirl that sent Asmo skidding past you.

“You don’t even like hell-sauce noodles!” Mammon snapped, hugging you to his chest like some kind of doll. You fixed your hair. “The GREAT Mammon has decided to help you, human!” he flashed you a big smile.

“And how are you better than me, Mammon?” Asmo crossed his arms, glaring at his older brother. “This is about a delicate matter, not money. Doesn’t sound like you’re qualified, really.” He smiled cutely but coldly, tossing his hand up in mock casualness despite it clearly being dismissal.

“Because it’s my favorite food!” Mammon replied matter-of-factly. Everyone knew it, too.

“Which should be considered. Their palette will influence how you taste things.” the witch looked much too happy with herself and what was happening.

“So she should really choose Beel or Mammon.” Lucifer crossed his arms, the corner of his mouth turning up at Asmo’s heartbroken face.

“And she’s going to pick me because I’M the best!” Mammon declared proudly, lifting you up to meet his gaze. It would’ve been a really sweet gesture if you were dating (and not in a skirt, sorry Diavolo).

The witch pressed a blue bottle into your hand. “Drink that, then get your dose of Devil’s Tongue.” she turned away to address the spread of papers that Lucifer and Diavolo had on the table. You looked at the vial, turning the ornately carved bottle in your hand as Mammon set you down. He all but dragged you down the hall and behind the safety of the heavy wood doors suited for the marvelous house. The room was thrown into shadows only lit by Mammon’s piercing eyes. Gentle eyes.

He pulled his D.D.D. from his pocket, your faces cast in a mesmerizing and ghoulish blue. You fumbled with the cork and sipped the brew. Sweet with tartness on its heel, the flavor soon became overwhelming to the point where you couldn’t taste anything at all. It felt like it was…neutralizing your mouth. Mammon’s lips stuttered across yours, landing at the side of your nose before sinking down.

Once, twice, three times…

The space around you exploded with heat, your back and hair scraping along the wall as Mammon lifted you up. His arms were unexpectedly and deliciously corded, holding you in place. Holding you up for him. The kiss was very Mammon—clumsy and stumbling but determined, The Avatar of Greed’s confidence growing as he took everything.

A near-inaudible splintering noise registered at the edge of your conscience, second to Mammon’s breathy moan as he pressed into you. You swore you felt claws prick you; you arched into the white-haired devil. Mammon slowed his pace, the kiss turning languid instead of desperate. Purely indulgent, like he had all the time in the world with you. You started pushing on his shoulders, finding it hard to breathe.

Demons probably had bigger lungs or something. You took your hands from wherever they’d been—between your bodies? Around his shoulders?—and started to press against his face when the door rattled with a couple of knocks only Lucifer was capable of. Mammon’s lips dragged off of yours, seemingly reluctantly, when the door burst open. He put his arm above your head, casual as ever, and you wondered if it was to keep the light out of your face.

Mammon squinted against it, looking almost as dazed as you. Your eyes were still adjusting to the sudden change but you didn’t need much time to see him still staring at your lips. He set you down, letting the witch steal you from under his arm. The second-eldest fixed his sunglasses as he stepped out into the lit hallway, ignoring Lucifer (and the heat he felt creeping up his neck and ears). His horns retreated into the skin of his forehead, hair shifting to cover them as his wings folded with a leathery whisper.

Had you even noticed? Damn, he was stupid to get carried away like that! Did he regret it though? Mammon hardly regretted anything and wasn’t sure if this counted. Oh well, at least he could throw it down when any of his brothers annoyed him.

Blue sparks danced on your tongue, the inside of your mouth a pale blue.

“It worked,” she cupped your chin and patted your cheek like an old lady. It made you wonder how old she really was. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to eat whatever you want!”

Mammon took your hand and darted off to the kitchen, keen on avoiding as many of his brothers as possible. It would just eat up your time, he’d argue. He’d rather not hear Asmo whine, anyways. So there you sat in the House of Lamentation’s kitchen, Mammon’s secret stash of hell-sauce noodles piled between you. He showed you how to cook them and helped himself to a cup.

They were divine! Similar to a lot of human foods but with some kind of otherworldly decadence. Something that put the noodles above all else. And this was cheap for Devildom standards! You wondered if their high-end food had the same effect. Was it something only devil’s could taste? Why did Beel have such a craving for human food when stuff tasted THIS good?

Maybe everything they ate had hidden flavors or something. You literally had to have magic to eat this! Mammon laughed to the point of choking as you continued to stuff your cheeks and scarf the noodles down. It was so good! You could just eat and eat and…wait…when you kissed Mammon did you get some of his greediness?

This WAS his favorite food, after all. You just had to have one more bite. One more bite, one more bite, one more bite! your brain chanted and your taste buds begged the same. It got to a point where you could eat no more, too full to move and too full to regret anything. The great Mammon felt bad for your overindulgence and offered his knee to put your head on instead of the stone floor.

He found it strangely heartwarming that you could look so miserable and adorable at the same time. “You gonna make it, human?” he scraped the bowl for the last noodle, mouthed the sauce off the end of the chopstick, and poked you in the cheek.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, holding your stomach. “Just full. Very full.”

You felt like you’d eaten enough for the next day. Long enough for the spell to wear off, at least. Mammon seemed to have the same thought, an amused and almost teasing grin on his face as he looked down at you. He held your head as he unfolded his legs, turned around, and laid down beside you. “You just let the great Mammon know when you want to do this again,” he tucked his arms under his head and adjusted his shoulders, “I’ll make time for you.”

[ashiiixoxo]

| Match made in Heaven | Lucifer x Demigod! reader

a/n- I hope y'all like this one even tho its 11.24 pm here and my 4 braincells keep thinking about the festivals event WITH SATAN AND LUCIFER IN A FUCKING YUKATA. enjoy~

summary- for the sake of your own safety you were send to Devildom, where Lord Diavolo would take you under his wing, being well aware of the abilities you possessed. you, being okay with going to Devildom, never expected to meet former angels. neither did you expect to fall in love down there.

masterlist

part 3 -  nosey brothers

you were showed around the House of Lamentation and tried to memorize everyones rooms and where to go and where not to go. everyone goes to their respective rooms, leaving you alone with Lucifer, whose room is next to yours. the awkward silence was broken when Lucifer opened your room door and said “go rest, dinner will be served shortly.” he turned around and left to his own room.

walking into your room, you admired how much it looked like your old one, except, the pictures with your friends and mom weren't there. you looked in the mirror of your closet. you looked like a mess, felt like one too but your hair and clothes looked slightly disheveled. opening the closet, hoping to find some comfortable clothes to put on, you found multiple uniforms.

your phone buzzed, signing that you got a text message.  Diavolo: This is my account. Diavolo: Feel free to send me a message any time. Diavolo: I forgot to mention that you will be attending to RAD with the brothers.

you opened the messages and checked his profile before responding.

Y/n: Thanks for letting me know! Y/n: I saw the uniforms in my closet already.

you locked your D.D.D and felt too tired to change clothes. in the human world it would be early in the morning already while here, it’s not even dinner time. the time in Devildom goes way slower than in the human world and its effects started to show.

you yawned and laid down on your bed. ‘it feels much softer than my own’ you sighed. you couldn't bring yourself to lay on the bed with the clothes you had worn the whole day. you remembered that Asmodeus had told you that each room has its own bathroom. sighing in relief you decided to check the two doors in your room.

the first one you opened was a storage room, filled with, what looked like some of your belongings and herbs. deciding that you had no business in that room to check anything you closed the door and headed to the other door. ‘this should be the bathroom then?’ the door creaked. 

looking inside, there was a large marble floored bathroom, slightly beige and (fave colour). you smiled at the sight of the bathtub and the shower cabin. you checked the cabinets for any type of skincare products and towels.

you sighed when you found nothing to clear your face with, but you did find the towels. taking some clothes from your closet and some underwear, you headed into the shower.

-

while you were showering some of the brothers decided that they wanted to chat with you a bit, only to find your room empty. they heard the water running and realized you were showering.

They let themselves inside your room and admired the way your room looked.  Satan found himself in front of your bookshelf.  Looking at the numerous books going from fiction to non-fiction, spiritual books, books about witchcraft, as well as science and anatomy books. He noticed books that he had himself, bought in the human world. On the other hand, Asmodeus found himself standing in front of your mirror and looking through your clothes. Admiring pieces he thought were cute or pretty.

Asmodeus beamed whenever he came across a revealing top or a dress.  Going, “this is so cute!” or “pretyyy” while looking at all the clothes in your closet. Meanwhile Belphegor made himself comfortable of your soft bed. As soon as his head rested on your pillow he was fast asleep.

While Mammon was looking around your room, being awfully quiet. He looked at your belongings, thinking to himself how much Grimm he can make of your furniture, accessoires and instruments (if you play any).

Satan took one of your books that seemed interesting, it was one of your notebooks where your mother wrote about your blood. You never really looked at it but it caught Satan’s eye. When he decided to open the book, he saw a sigil carving on it, a sigil used by witches to keep away demons.

He took note of the sigil and placed the notebook back. ‘Whatever was written in there shouldn’t be read by demons. And whoever wrote it, wields some real strong magic.’ Satan thought to himself.

You opened the bathroom door and saw the four demons looking through your stuff. Being too amused by their reactions, you quietly stood at the doorframe, observing them.

“I could sell these things for a whole lot of Grimm.” Mammon grinned, holding some of your traditional fans. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the fans. ‘why would you sell something as old as that?’

You saw Belphegor asleep and Asmodeus looking through your clothes. You held back a smile. Looking at Satan, who was quietly nodding while reading “the Resurrectionist”. He must like anatomy of mythical creatures. He seemed way too into it.

“sweatpants, really?” Asmodeus looked at the few sweatpants in your closet. “tsk tsk, why wear sweatpants when you have cute clothes like these.” You put your dirty clothes in the laundry basket and wrapped the towel around your hair.

“they’re really comfortable and easy to wear.” You grinned. You felt at ease. Even though they were demons, you didn’t feel threatened. It made you feel save even though they were looking through your stuff.

The demons snapped their heads into the directions your voice came from. They backed away from what they were touching, Mammon tripping over his own leg. You shook your head and dried your hair. “sorry, we didn’t mean to go through your belongings like that.” Satan was the first to apologize.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “what brings all of you to my room?” you asked while drying your hair. Asmodeus grabbed your hand and the towel and started to dry your hair. “don’t rub your hair, it will break. If you pat it, it will stay healthy and it will untangle easier.” He adviced. You nodded your head and thanked him. You felt your whole body relax as Asmodeus raked his fingers through your hair, eyes half shutting at the feeling.

“we came to talk to you.” Mammon answered your previous question. “about?” you inhaled when you felt Asmodeus fingers trailing down the back of your neck to your spine. You immediately moved away from him. ‘What the hell was he doing?!’ you thought.

You shook your head ‘demons’. Asmodeus got startled because of your sudden action and immediately moved his hands up. “was that too much?” he asked. Your eyes were wide and you felt the stinging pain on your back again. ‘Did he do that on purpose?’ you shook your head and muttered a sorry.

There should be no way he would know unless Diavolo had told him. “again, what did you guys want to talk about?” you asked, you were tense. Mammon shrugged at your action and answered “just talking.”

You nodded you head. They made themselves comfortable on the floor, bed and chair in your room. You joined on the floor with Satan. “so what is there you guys want to know?” you asked.

Mammon was the first one to speak up. “why are you not scared of us?” he was annoyed by the fact that you did not fear him the way he wanted to be feared. You shrugged. “this place is supposed to keep me safe, you guys are supposed to keep me safe. I guess I don’t feel that scared here.” Mammon wasn’t satisfied with your answered and shook his head.

“I’m THE great Mammon, Avatar of Greed, how can you, a mere, fragile human being, not be scared of me.” You shook your head. “so apparently the human world isn’t safe for you anymore, that’s why you’re here right?” you nodded your head, confirming.

“everyone will think you’re another exchange student.” Asmodeus sighed. “maybe that’s for the better, if the other demons think she’s an exchange student, they won’t bother her.”

“why is everyone talking so much.” The sleepy demon sat up and rubbed his eyes after being woken up from his slumber. His eyes landed on you, and he remembered why he fell asleep on your bed in the first place. “did you sleep well?” you asked. “hm? Yeah I did.” Belphegor yawned. “your bed is very soft.” He smiled slightly.

While we were talking, a glaring Leviathan stopped in front of the door. “Lucifer is calling for all of you, dinner is ready.” He muttered and walked away. “we need to go before Bee eats everything!” Mammon sprinted out of the room.

Asmodeus, Satan, Belphegor and you walked towards the dining area and took a seat.  Satan sat next to you, he sighed softly. He never got to ask you what he wanted to ask you. He now, had to wait until he could talk to you alone.

<previous - next>

Taglist  (ask to be added)- @cheesey-fox @inlustris-arts @izzieg3987 @salty-hearts

[katcadecascade]

Storybook for the Gods

Fair Game Week: AU/Freeday

God AU

Ao3

They say the gods left to become the stars in the sky.

They say the gods obeyed the Brothers Grimm, agreeing that humanity was a failure.

They say the gods died and their children are doing a horrible job.

Qrow says that everyone should just shut up.

It’s one thing for the world to contain monsters and magic but no. Humanity loves, hates, fears, and respects the new religions the left over gods have made.

The Remnant Gods as they’ve been titled.

Technically demigods as good old Oz would describe but that doesn’t change the fact that the chain of godhood falls onto their shoulders.

Qrow can only speak for Vale’s side of the story, the dominion of the great and powerful Odin where he bestowed powers to his own children as he goes on his own journey for research and wisdom.  

But nowadays he goes by Ozpin, the only old god that didn’t abandon the new gods of Remnant.

Qrow can understand why the god changed his name. No one would think a scholarly dressed old man is secretly the god of Vale, wielding a cane and not a spear. Disguises are necessary now that civilizations are slowly rioting against the Remnant Gods.

Tensions are as high as ever what with mortal heroes rising and fighting in the name of their people and not in the name of any of the gods. Qrow can’t blame them, Hell, he was once one of them.

Not anymore ever since Oz saved his life.

If Qrow had to pick a god to owe a life debt with, Odin had to be the best pick of the batch. No way was Qrow going end up in servitude for Horus, that war god has been raging Vacuo’s deserts for centuries. He did hear rumors that Fuji was still a beloved god, distance as she was ever since she chosen a mountain as her vessel.

Another elder god is from the north but no one has heard a peep from him in nearly a millennium.

That is until today.

Qrow is a relatively a new asset of dear old Oz, just shy of having a decade’s worth of experience under his belt as Odin’s black bird. So he wasn’t expecting much when he was flying through a winter coated forest.

The mission for the year is to find this rouge Valkyrie, rumored to be harboring souls away from their designated afterlife. As the crow flew above the dark trees, looking for any sign of the whisky sparkles of souls detaching from their bodies, a sudden cold breeze hit his face and along with it, a scroll.

It’s not often paper mail is delivered this way, nature spirits keep to their selves or to nature gods. Somehow a winter spirit by the chill of it knew who Qrow worked for and on the edge of the rolled paper was a cursive address of ‘To Odin’

Ominous, not quite, suspicious, only to his birdbrain but curious, oh he definitively is.

Flying back to the cottage, miles away from the rest of the forest and small towns still growing, Qrow keeps the letter in his peak, its edges flapping wilding in the cold winds.

As if already aware, Oz is waiting at the doorstep. His arm up as Qrow took his landing with ease.

It took two attempts for the god to nab the paper from the bird having fun playing keep away.

“Very funny Qrow,” Ozpin chided, finally getting the scroll.

As he unrolls it, Qrow hops off and wills his feathers back into skin, a rush of shivers getting his bones into its original shape. He dusts off stray feathers out of his hair, “Got it from the northern winds. Do you know what that means?”

“Nicholas,” he answers, his eyebrows knitting together, “he needs us in Atlas immediately.”

“Wait us?” Qrow peeks over the god’s shoulder and sure enough the letter is asking for Qrow by his title, Muninn.

Now that’s pretty curious. Gods don’t often seek help from other gods of a different dominion. Usually they get it through their own pantheon and even that is a hassle.

Just look at what happened between Thor and Loki.

“A magical shapeshifter isn’t exactly a secret among gods,” Oz explained. “Making two in this new world is even more of a gossip.”

Oh yeah, he didn’t take in account of Huginn’s rogue status. Raven is probably making waves in Mistral right now.

Still though, there are only a handful of people Qrow introduced himself as Muninn. A few of them were Oz’ old friends but also two humans he and Raven befriended.

Last he checked, Taiyang and Summer are on a sea expedition in the Burning Ocean.

Yeah, Qrow decided not to go with them for obvious flaming reasons.

So now he’s pondering over on why the son of Atlas is asking for him and his patron god for a visit.

“We’re taking the express trip right?”

“You’re always so eager for a fast travel.”

“What, do you expect me to flap all the way to Atlas?” Qrow flaps his human limps.

“As amusing as that is, no,” Oz chuckled. He pockets the letter and holds up his cane, “Nicholas needs us now.”

The intricate clockwork mechanism in the cane’s handle winds up and it ticks loudly as a green light pulses between the weapon and its creator’s hands.

As rune circles appeared below their feet, Qrow giddily bounces on his feet.

This was always his favorite part.

A rainbow of colors consumes the god and the shapeshifter and all they can feel is pulsating brightness as their entire beings are flying through the sky.

In a matter of seconds, Qrow and Ozpin find their selves at the foot of a temple built upon the highest mountain of the northern lands.

Only the oldest of gods know of this place ever since the real Olympus was tarnished when their namesakes left. The ruins of Olympus only had one resident, a power older than most gods.

The last son of Atlas has the power of a titian but its strength is a mere tale since the old man rarely leaves the mountain peak. Qrow may not know the reasons but it must be similar to Oz’ own lifestyle.

Elder gods have increasingly become isolated from the world, leaving the Remnant gods with all the pleasures and pains of warding over humans. It’s a hassle really, getting devoted to or smiting usurpers or whatever. Again, Qrow can’t relate since his god chose to live in a cottage in the middle of nowhere.

This lonely damaged temple is Nicholas’ choice and honestly it is a nice view.

Ignoring the Olympians’ rumble, there is a grand stone staircase that curves into the mountainside, covered in chilly fog as it dives down. Beyond that is the view of the tundra of Mantle, a white slate with dots of cities.

Qrow is very tempted to go free falling into the clouds, feel the wind rush at him as his heart races. He can picture it now, falling as a human only to shift into feathers right as the world is nearing.

“It’s not the time for that Muninn,” Oz lectured, lightly whacking his cane at Qrow’s leg.

Muninn, he’s only referred to that title when they have company.

Tearing his gaze away from the clouds, the thrill of flying, Qrow looks at the only temple left standing.  

Walking out of the temple of Atlas’ son are two men.

The tall one of black hair is easily recognized by his lighting blue eyes. James, the son of Zeus and is also a major stick in the ass according to Qrow.

“It’s good to see you, Odin,” James greeted but his tone is always so grim and serious. His eyes narrow at Qrow, “Why did you bring your pet?”

“Hey, I got invited by name,” Qrow huffed, straightening his back to have some sense of pride. It still doesn’t compare to James’ height but it’s the intention that counts.

Qrow doesn’t care if James is a demigod turned Remnant God, he can still match his speed no matter the wind pressure. Hell, James is not the only god to question Qrow’s power as a former mortal.

Speaking of mortals, Qrow notices the second guy, someone he distinctly recalls meeting at the piers of Midpass, “Wait, hold up, you’re that boat guy.”

A chuck passes through pink lips, lightening up his teal eyes, “That’s not my official title but yeah, that’s me.” The brunet holds his hand out, “I’m Clover, son of Poseidon.”

“Yep,” Qrow shakes his hand, “boat guy for sure.”

From the humble smile and adorable cheeks, Qrow innocently mistook this guy as mortal. He didn’t elude power like James or Oz and instead just came off as a regular fisherman.

A cute one at that since Qrow, day drinking with his friends, threw a bunch of flirts at Clover.

That’s probably why he didn’t clue in the fact that Clover suddenly appeared before them right as Summer and Tai were boat shopping for their expedition.

“I knew you were a pretty bird but I didn’t think you’d be the Muninn as well,” Clover winked.

“I’m just full of surprises,” Qrow shrugged off, “something Jimmy here can attest to.”

James grumbles, “Let’s go inside already, Nicholas has waited enough.”

Due to pride alone, James walks ahead with Ozpin at his side.

Clover follows with Qrow, as if he’s more interesting than an ancient Greek temple, “So you’re really Muninn? That’s amazing, there are so many stories about you and you’ve only been a god for a decade or so.”

“Technically I’m not a god,” he corrected before James could but in, “I just serve under Odin.”

“Not all the time right? I thought you’d be traveling with your friends.”

“Nope,” he popped, looking around the temple’s interior.

It’s all white pillars and high ceilings. The place has typical fancy architecture that scholars would die for even if there are some dust and dirt here or there.

Qrow continues, “If I went with them then their ride would definitely fall off the ends of the world or fall into the river Styx.”

“What does that mean?”

He ignores the concern from Clover as they enter the last room. It’s set up as an altar room where a stage is under a skylight. On the stage is Nicholas, the son of Atlas, and a pale woman with white, shimmering hair.

“Welcome all of you,” Nicholas nods with a sad smile, “I and Fria thank you all for coming.”

“Nicholas, is something wrong?” James immediately asks, the room dipping a few degrees colder, “This is about the storms in the west yes? I knew there is something coming from the horizon, I can feel it and-“

A heavy laugh stops the lightning god. Nicholas’ smile grows just a bit, “You focus too much on bad news, James.”

“Someone has to,” James side glances at Clover.

He shrugs, grinning innocently, “I just think you purposely give yourself dark clouds.”

“That was one time, Clover.”

“Yeah and it nearly flooded Athens.”

Qrow has twin instincts to laugh at James but also be terrified at the casual mention of how he almost flooded a populated city. These gods and their temper tantrums really are ridiculous, even more so if humanity suffers from it.

Oz taps down his cane, gaining everyone’s attention, “So why are we here, Nicholas?” His eyes shifted to Fria, “Although I’m starting to understand.”

The woman beams and suddenly a veil of frost coat her hair as she grasps Nicholas’ big hands. Her own hands are small and decorated with frostbite but their held hands brings a warm feeling to the room.

“We’re getting married,” Fria announces, a loving gaze on her fiancé as they nudge closer together, “but we want something more than that.”

“We plan to start a family,” Nicholas explains and now the tension in the room is back as the guests realized just who these parents-to-be are.

A child between these two would have the lineage of a titan, a being far superior to a god, and, from the looks of it, a winter spirit.

Qrow recognizes Fria now, her winter powers eluding off of her effortlessly. It is that same breeze that found him and that coldness still clung to him as he stares at the faery.

“That’s too dangerous,” James warns with a thunder in his core.

Clover grounds his cousin with a steady hand on his arm, “They know that and,” teal eyes trace over to Oz, “you asked for Odin to do something about this right?”

The wise god of Vale steps onto the stage, looking wearier than Qrow has ever seen him.

“You’re both giving up your godhood,” the old man said.

“We want to be human,” Nicholas corrects.

Qrow blinks, “Oh.”

That’s something he has never expected to hear. A titan and a faery want to become human to protect their future child from infinite power and consequences.

For Qrow he gave up his humanity to protect himself, well that’s what he claimed after Raven left him. He believed that working for Ozpin would further help humanity or so he hopes.

Muninn built up a name as an omen to malice but Qrow recently sees he’s a harbinger as well. Maybe it was the powers or some part of Qrow that amplified the moment he swore oath to Odin. There has been a trail of bad luck following him.

His only solution is to stray away from humanity, protect them from a distance as Oz has done.

Now before him are two ancient beings deciding to give up their powers and live in a world where humans are slowly thinking for their selves, where the gods are no longer their priority. Instead their priorities are their families.

That is what Nicholas and Fria want.

Oz nods gravely, “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Wait what?” Clover questioned.

“Of course,” James bitterly concludes, “If Odin can grant power to mortals,” he gestures to Qrow and then James nervously gulps, “then he could do the reverse for his fellow gods.”

Okay, from that perspective that sounds terrifying, Qrow thinks, but this is Ozpin they’re talking about. The old man has spent eons making mistakes with humans and gods and other magical beings but has chosen to repeat for it all.

For some reason Qrow is one of the first things Ozpin saves and for that Qrow trusts him forever.

“I’m not that great and powerful,” Oz assures, smiling kindly at James.

James does the quietest relieved sighs.

“Or am I?” Oz notes humorously.

An angry noise comes out of James, his shocked and fearful face making Qrow laugh out loud.

Ozpin returns the conversation back to the couple, “I can do it but your powers will have to go somewhere because I for sure won’t take it for my own.”

“We thought of that,” Fria nods. “The sky is a fitting place to place winter and strength into it. I’m going ahead and naming it an aurora, after my mother.”

“It’ll be lovely,” Nicholas agrees and then the couple turns to Qrow, “and there’s one last thing too.”

With everyone’s attention on Qrow, he has the sudden need to fly away before something awkward or unfortunate happens, “Um, hi?”

“You’re Muninn, the Bird of Memory,” he announces and since Qrow blinks and points at himself, still confused, the son of Atlas clarifies, “We want to forget our godhood. You can take them away.”

“What?” He, Clover, and James practically yell.

“He can do that?” James baulks.

“You can do that?” Clover awes.

“I can do that?” Qrow nearly chokes on his spit.

Oz, helpful as he is, only shrugged, “Well that is a theory now.”

“Please,” Fria begs, walking over to the shapeshifter. Snowflakes trail behind her as she reaches Qrow and takes his hands into her cold ones, “We’re tired of this eternity we wait in and once we become humans we can actually start living.”

Her eyes look just like that tundra their temple views over, cold and clean and goes on for miles filled with emptiness. Fria barely reaches Qrow’s shoulders but there is an ancient power in her being that makes Qrow shiver.

It would be a mistake to think of her as human with the snow on top of her robes and how her hair is literally a mist of frost. Yet the gentle slope of her face reminds Qrow so much of his tribal Chief. Both lived a long life and now they want rest.

“I’ll do my best,” Qrow says, his voice barely trembling at this promise.

The winter spirit’s smile warms up the room, “Thank you, Muninn.”

The ceremony gets started immediately because gods can be impatient like that.

At the stage area, Ozpin stands as the holy figure before the couple, their hands held together. James and Clover stand on the side of Atlas’ son. The two were chosen to be here today because Nicholas trusts them to take care of their people.

Qrow is on Fria’s side of the stage and he still feels out of place. They only need him for his powers which aren’t news to him. Nearly everyone Qrow meets wants to use him for one purpose or another. But this is for a good cause, he remembers himself as he watches the couple share tender looks and words.

Their vows are of the typical stuff that happens in weddings, promises to love each other and all that jazz. Qrow quietly chokes up when they promise to die in each other’s arms.

The concept of death is different between gods and humans. If a god dies… well actually Qrow doesn’t know. Gods just become nothing, absolutely nothing but dust.

For humans, Qrow once wondered where he’ll go because the gods of death had different rules and jurisdictions and he doesn’t want to learn any of that since he’s pretty immortal at this point.

Nicholas and Fria finish their vows and Ozpin wraps it up.

With a tap of his cane, a brilliant light captures the room and if Qrow squints his eyes he can barely see how the colors are moving around Nicholas and Fria.

The light dims and with it, the chill of the temple disappears from the temple. Fria has pinkness in her cheeks and she buries her warm hands into her husband’s white hair. Nicholas himself looks almost bigger now that there is no more weight on his shoulders, a cursed pain that haunts his bloodline.

Human, Qrow realizes and accepts.

All of the colors are swirling above their heads, blues and pinks and purples dancing together until Oz sends it up high, passing through the open ceiling and to the dark sky above. The colors blanket the night and its stars.

They all stand witness to the first ever aurora borealis.

“Muninn,” Oz commands and waves him over to stand in his place.

Right, moment of truth, he thinks as he is presented to the newly wedded and human couple. Even without their magic, their eyes are still old and weary.

Not thinking, Qrow carefully presses the tips of his fingers on their foreheads.

As far as Qrow knows, Muninn can do two things: turn into a bird and kick ass.

He doesn’t quite know where the memory association came from but then again other gods can say the same thing with their gimmicks.

It can be through sheer luck or coincidence or fate that led Qrow to this moment.

Memory is not a title Qrow thought he would bare and yet here he stands, feeling something tingle into his bones as a light glows from Nicholas’ and Fria’s foreheads. Energy flows from them and into Qrow and it starts to do more than buzz his bones.

He can’t breathe as images are passing behind his eyes.

It’s the old world full of magic that no human could ever imagine where nearly everyone is a demigod and nature spirits thrived without fear of pollution. The world has colors Qrow didn’t think existed and now it lives on through his head, an honor and a chain.

Qrow blinks away new tears as the two ancient beings give up their lives to finally get some peace in their souls.

It is all over before he knows it. They wanted to forget everything from their godhood so Qrow tries his best as promised. He leaves things in there, the knowledge of old friends and the joys and grief shared.

Fria will know how she felt when she first felt summer, how Nicholas brought her a literal ball of heat. Nicholas will know how light he felt the first time Fria made him laugh, a rusty thing in his lifetime. They will both know how they fell in love, when the sun kissed the sky as they held each other in their arms as eternity passed them by.

Lastly it is this moment, the details of the other gods will be vague but their hope and relief that this is finally happening will stay with them until their dying day.

Qrow lets go, his face wet and heart beating achingly slow. While his eyes are blurry he sees how young Fria’s and Nicholas’ eyes are.

The couple blinks slowly but their smiles are wide, like they know what happened but he doubts that, he just took away their memories.

Ozpin and James handle their retirement plans, something about sending them to Athens where Pietro, the son of Athena, will smooth out the details.

“Are you okay?” Oz asks and steads a hand on Qrow’s trembling arm.

He tries to speak but his tongue is heavy. His whole body shivers with the weight of winter’s rage. Qrow bites his lip harshly, snapping himself back into stillness. He manages to get out, “I’m good.”

Oz frowns at the lie but doesn’t argue. Instead he walks over to Nicholas, Fria, and James where he readies his spell and a rainbow flies them away.

“Qrow,” Clover warns with great concern but he waves him off.

“I feel fine,” Qrow says before he collapses.

The son of Poseidon catches him easily, his muscles proving its worth.

Muninn is known for his elegance and raw power. Black wings hold the winds of old and can cut through the toughest of stones. Right now that warrior is a twitching, gasping mess who’s clinging tightly to the only person grounding him.

“Qrow, hey, look at me,” Clover carefully guides a hand through black hair, making their eyes meet. He rearranges their bodies, complexly supporting Qrow’s weight to cradle the shapeshifter in his arms.

Two lifetimes are running around in the bird’s head, too much energy with no outlet and they are literally squeezing Qrow’s own memories into a peanut shell.

Wow, Qrow really should have thought this plan through but he didn’t want to ruin two gods’ wedding day. He’s not that much of an asshole. That and he didn’t want to be smited.

Too bad his brain is occupied with tearing itself apart to even think of a resolution. He has two brain cells and they don’t belong here.

Literally, Qrow sees nothing but never melting snow that is casted upon men and beasts alike simply because they wandered into territory of the winter faeries.

Another memory takes the reins, this time Qrow is crushed with the weight of the sky as Nicholas attempts to save his father from eternal punishment.

It didn’t work. Nicholas stood numbly as Atlas’ body dispersed into atoms at the moment the moon shattered, thus starting a territory war between the sky gods.

Now that’s a story Qrow never thought he’d learn, it would be really cool if he learned this in a less painful, mind aching, way.

“Hey breathe with me,” a warm hand is pressed to his collarbone, heating the skin as Qrow’s heartbeat flutters.

With lungs on fire, Qrow barely registers the rawness in his throat.

Has he been screaming? The wails of agony from the grieving son of Atlas rings between Qrow’s eardrums.

It hurts so much, an intense drumbeat in not only his brain but the rest of his flesh and blood and he just wants it to stop.

But gods don’t get that luxury do they?

Humans can live and die and rest while gods just keep on going and going until infinity yells at them to catch up already.

Somewhere in the raptures, Qrow questions why exactly he gave up his own mortality.  

“Qrow, I need you to focus on me,” a blurry figure begs and closes the inches between them.

Their foreheads meet and despite the bright light returning, all Qrow can see are teal eyes.

Burning sea salt takes over all sense of smell as well as the sudden loud crash of waves at the portside. The little sea village in Midpass suffers from near endless heat due to the enchanting fire that rides the seafoam.

Qrow’s sight of that ocean is torn away as a familiar, gruff laughter catches his attention.

On the wooden pier are other fisherman but three visitors are out of place. It is mind boggling and an out of body experience to see Summer and Tai walk around with a Qrow joking with them.

This was a month ago and yet this version of Qrow appears years younger, cracking a wirily smile at Tai as Summer throws a mock punch his way.

He can’t recall what he teased them about because this isn’t Qrow’s memory, it’s Clover’s.

When the trio is passing by, Summer voices her desire to on a sea voyage. Tai, being logical for once, points out that they don’t have a ship.

That’s when the son of Poseidon heeds this call, friendly introducing himself as an expert boatman or seller or whatever because Qrow, both present and past, is not paying attention to the dialogue.

Past Qrow is ogling the sheer amount of muscles the fisherman has while Muninn, the ghost of the future, feels everything Clover felt.

It starts with piqued interest in the trio, all eluding different personalities and loud friendship but the dark haired man is who really catches Clover’s eye.

As a god of the sea, water orientated powers comes to mind. So it feels kind of out of place to sense a person’s luck scale.

Maybe Clover got the luck thing from his other parent, that’s not uncommon considering a lot of Remnant Gods have multiple heritages.

Anyway, only a god with this type of power can see how bad luck just reeks off of Qrow and finding this out is really ticking Qrow off.

He knew it. He knew that he’s nothing but a bad luck charm. Qrow was right in his argument with Summer that he shouldn’t tag along. He didn’t to be the reason his friends drowned or burned to death.

A new feeling takes over. Its strong warmth pushes aside the misery inside the black bird. This fast heartbeat, breath leaving lungs, it all happened when teal eyes met red.

“So you’re an expert boat guy, huh?” Qrow had said with a bit of slur. The drinks in this town were rumored to be a High John favorite and he wanted to taste. The results ended up being this flirt and wink, “I just so happen to love seamen.”

“Oh my fucking gods, Qrow,” Tai seethed.

Summer and Clover are busy laughing, a breathless energy making Clover feel lighter than air as he blushes furiously. With each laugh, the ocean rumbles, something Qrow did not notice before.

“I am so honored to hear that,” Clover returned a blinding smile once the urge to barrel over laughing is settled.

“He’s better at this I swear,” Summer giggled, “Well actually no, he can be terrible at this too.”

“Brat,” hissed Qrow.

“No, no,” Clover shook his head with a grin, “I think you’re doing just fine.”

“You sir are one in a million,” Tai rolls his eyes.

“Huh, in that case, lucky you,” Clover winked to Qrow.

In that tipsy state of mind, Qrow beamed, practically preening at being called the opposite of what usual mocks him day in and day out.

That’s when Clover’s emotions shift a bit. There is flustered wonderment at seeing Qrow just simply smiling like this is the happiest moment in his life.

A sudden need to see more of that smile bursts in Clover, a selfless urge to be the reason Qrow smiles or at least keep this man in the world a little longer than death will plan.

Clover’s bundle of positively is conflicting with Qrow’s confusion on the matter. It’s a bit flattering to witness this but it is also a bombardment of sensations he doesn’t know how to unpack.

The fleeting images of Qrow and Clover in that perfect sunlight fades away. The world returns to the nightlight temple, the aurora coloring the sky.

Qrow ever so slowly leans away from Clover just enough to have their noses brush up.

“What was that?” He asks.

With the couple’s memories, he felt drained but with Clover, he honestly feels better.

“I don’t know,” Clover admits, a blush setting on his cheeks, “I just wanted to stop your pain.”

Well it worked as his head feels less heavy. It’s somewhere in him still, the knowledge he took away from Nicholas and Fria. As for Clover’s memory, it probably wasn’t stolen at least that’s what he guesses.

“I didn’t,” a sudden horror is in his head, Qrow needs to check, “do you still remember how we met?”

“Of course,” Clover assures and he rubs his hands up and down Qrow’s arms.

“Cool, um what was all of that?” He swallows down the saliva building up in his mouth, “All of those feelings and stuff?”

Teal eyes go wide and his cheeks equally turn red, “Oh you would feel that too, um. It’s just my first impression of you.”

“…If this is about the seaman thing, I really could’ve said something better.”

A laugh surprises him as Clover’s chest shakes with each rumble, “It was one of the best pickup lines I have ever heard.”

“Okay that has to be a lie.”

“No really,” he shook his head, “You really impressed me.”

Scoffing, Qrow shifts out of Clover’s arm despite liking how it felt to be encircled by them, “Now I know you’re a liar.” He scuffles over to sit at the edge of the stage. Leaning back, Qrow rolls his neck to stare straight up at the skylight, “So that’s an aurora.”

The demigod takes a seat next to him, “It’s their last gift to the world.”

“Is it for the gods or humans?” Qrow asks. The memories of the gods have lulled itself to sleep in his head but flickers of a beautiful world with a full moon catches his breath.

Maybe they missed their old world and they wanted to put a bit of it back into reality.

“Well, why did you become a power?”

He snapped his head to the demigod, not at all seeing the connection.

Clover actually lays his back down, his arm crossed behind his head to watch the sky. He continues, “Was it for Odin or for something else?”

Only close friends of his know the reason. He and Raven were considered heirs for their Chieftain but after a tragic monster attack they lost most of their tribe. Ozpin was there to save those who remained and as their tradition, the twins owed him a life dept.

They unknowingly pled servitude to a hidden elder god, just their luck.

All Oz wanted was some company so Qrow easily agreed and traveled with him while Raven took care of their tribe. Along the way the god later revealed his true power and granted the twins immortality for their loyalties.

They became Muninn and Huginn, the Black Birds of Odin.

But Raven saw it all differently, not at first but gradually she grew to despise how Oz just isolated himself from the world. He could’ve saved the tribe before disaster struck.

Qrow had many disagreements with his sister but this was the pinnacle fight that changed everything. He picked Ozpin over the tribe that forced him to kill another kid to have a place in their brutal community.

To him, both gods and humans are alike through bloodshed and harshness and bitterness.

It didn’t matter to Qrow if he just ended up living a hundred years longer than fate planned. He wanted to get away from everyone, something he believed Ozpin once felt until they started taking initiative on saving other towns from monsters and chaotic magic.

“I used to think it was all for humanity, the good parts of it,” Qrow answered, “but seeing Fria and Nicholas, well, I didn’t think gods needed saving.”

He looks down at Clover, still gazing at the stars. Just like the first time they met, Qrow doesn’t see anything god-like in him, aside from the arms but his point still stands.

Curiosity takes over as Qrow asks, “Clover, would you ever do what they did?”

“I never thought to consider it until today,” he said, his voice soft and yet Qrow’s complete focus is on it. “Maybe if I met the right person,” Clover trails off and then teal eyes meet red again.

The memory of the ocean is at the edges of Qrow’s vision, enrapturing how stunning Clover looked in simple fisherman grab. That’s not something he’ll admit out loud, the amount of pockets are ridiculous.

Clover is undeniably handsome but he looks so human too, something that Qrow once was. The echoes of the demigod’s feelings mix in with his own, that sense of amazement at how utter goodness radiates off of him.

They may have met only twice so far and yet what is time compared to the immortals?

That and the single memories starts to bleed more than Qrow imaged. He felt Clover’s love for the ocean, its smell and feeling in his soul. How Clover was so charmed by Summer and Tai, instantly admiring their tenacity and enthusiasm for exploring.

The world looked different in Clover’s eyes. The same thing is said about Qrow.

In the memory, Qrow looked almost enchanting and not sleep deprived as he is normally. It’s weird to see himself look so human when he never appeared as joyful until he left the tribe.

Clover sits back up, “Qrow, I think you’re lovely.” He blinks at the sudden compliment and usually he won’t believe it but the glimpse in Clover’s head is convincing. “Meeting you just feels right to me, like it wasn’t just fate or luck that gave me the chance to see you again.”

His teal eyes are searching desperately for a reaction, any indication that risking his heart out will have a good outcome.

Qrow doesn’t know where this will lead, not at all as he drops a hand over Clover’s.

Not a lot can be said about the son of Poseidon, just lore and sea stories, but when he met the not-quite mortal Qrow was equally intrigued and wanting to get more of this fisherman.

He denied Summer’s teasing that it was a crush but now that he suddenly got invited to a wedding with Clover, finding out there’s more to his godhood and how kind he is, Qrow finds himself feeling very human.

Too long he spent his immortality alone, abandoned by Raven and Ozpin still keeping secrets. Summer and Tai were a drastic improvement in his life and now here he is, presented with something new and raw.

“Well,” Qrow settles, weaving their fingers together, “we have the rest of eternity to figure this thing out between us.”

[annabethbreakstherules]

OUAT and why “mystery box” narratives are doomed to fail

Once Upon a Time premiered on Oct 23, 2011 to 12.9 million viewers and fairly positive reviews from critics who praised the performances of the main cast, the surprisingly complex and interesting takes on storybook characters, and the impressive special effects. This quote from the Wikipedia page essentially summarized what was so compelling about the show (and hints at ultimately why it failed):

“‘Rick Porter gave the pilot praise for bringing together the central theme, saying "No other new show this fall is attempting to tell a bigger story, and we're hoping the rough patches smooth out and it fulfills the potential that's there in its very strong cast and premise.’”

Once wasn’t unique for its fairytale remixes, which was also being done concurrently for a time on NBC’s Grimm, but for it’s intrigue and mystery. Emma Swan is pulled into the uncanny world of Storybrooke and into a scheme much bigger and more complicated than she could imagine.

Premiering a year after the controversial Lost finale, OUAT was propped up as the next project from Lost producers Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, promising a series built on unknowns and mysteries that unravel as time goes on. The first season utilizes the Enchanted Forest to give the audience hints and clues that line up with discoveries Emma makes in the town in the real world. It’s laden with pockets of missing information that get revisited and stories told out of order to better serve the overall narrative. It works. The first season was critically and commercially successful, pulling audiences in the 12-9 million range in the Sunday night slot. However, as time went on and the show unfolded, things changed and the show declined in viewership and quality. A lot of the qualms with the latter season of the show stem from the fact that from the second half of season 3 onward it essentially became a weekly hour long commercial for Disney properties, with the recent or upcoming films and their characters being woven into the story. Certainly this is likely true as the show originally so compelling for its unique take on characters that challenged their pervasive PG interpretations but also didn’t simply turn to the original Brother’s Grimm tales. However, this shift is storytelling is a side effect of the larger problem the show faced that it failed to overcome, ultimately ensuring its eventual downfall.

OUAT was sold as a mystery box show, but it ended as your average villain of the season supernatural/fantasy show bogged down by Disney and recycled plots. No matter what direction this show took, because of the original premise being rooted in a mystery box plot, like the previous project the show runners worked on, it was bound to come in contact with narrative problems. 

Part 1: The JJ Abrams and the Lost finale of it all

What exactly is a “mystery box”? Here is a link to a TedTalk where Abrams himself describes the concept: https://www.ted.com/talks/j_j_abrams_the_mystery_box?language=en 

Essentially, he breaks down the power of mystery and specifically how his conception of mysteries and the unknown as opportunities for incredible feats of human imagination factored into the creation of Lost, where the first two episodes, which he wrote and shot with Damon Lindelof in the span of 11 weeks and set up a bunch of questions that end up driving the plot of the subsequent episodes and seasons. In his TedTalk, Abrams talks about how mystery boxes stand in for unknowns that when revealed, often lead to much broader and deeper truths that speak to things bigger than the narrative itself. This was supposedly the idea behind Lost. 

However, this didn’t end up being the reality. Abrams exited the show in the third season and (allegedly) pretty much left the new showrunners and writers room with little idea of what was inside the mystery box he’d set up. Thus, it was up to people who didn’t create the show to guide it through three more seasons and attempt to land a satisfying ending. The details of the finale aren’t important, what matter is that it came with a lot of controversy. Fans found it confusing or unsatisfying and felt it ultimately failed to provide good answers to the questions it set up. While not relevant to this story, Abram’s handling of the Star Wars sequel trilogy suggest a pattern of setting up a mystery box he doesn’t intend to answer himself (and then fumbling when he attempts to solve the equations he wrote). 

Opinions on the finale have changed over time, but in 2011, just a year after the show had concluded, ABC and Kitsis and Horowitz were very aware of the precarious view many people had of the show’s conclusion. With OUAT, ABC was clearly trying to recapture the magic of Lost, where the television mystery became a massive phenomenon as people wrote think pieces and articles, tuned in every week for more clues, and talked about their theories online. They wanted another show that would keep people guessing and, therefore, encourage them to discuss it publicly and drum up more interest. However, they knew they couldn’t afford to fumble the bag this time and risk alienating people who were unsatisfied with Lost, but had enough good faith to give the show a chance. Kitsis and Horowitz saddled themselves with this task, despite likely having no real idea how to best address the problems Lost had. The concept of “the mystery box” was championed by Abrams and he had yet to really prove a mastery over the thing he created. This motivated the decision making behind the structure of the show for better or for worse. 

Part 2: Looking inside the box too soon 

Lost was built on the question of what exactly was going on with the island and whether or not the people on it could escape. OUAT was built on the question of what was going on in Storybrooke and what it had to do with Henry’s book of fairytales. The Enchanted Forest identities of Storybrooke citizens, who cast the curse, and how to break it were shrouded in mystery and slowly revealed through flashbacks and Emma’s own investigation.  It was pretty compelling TV that provided a few good gasp worthy reveals over the course of the season. It all built towards the final reveal that Emma was the Savior, the fabled hero of the Enchanted Forest, the daughter of Snow and Charming, and that True Love’s Kiss is the way to break the curse. The curse is lifted and everyone regains their memories. The mystery is solved. And therein lies the problem. 

The entire marketing campaign around the show either capitalized on the fairy tale aspect of the show or the mystery, usually both. Every episode trailer was about what information the flashbacks would reveal next, what new characters we might meet, what we might learn about characters we already knew, and what Emma and Henry would learn about Storybrooke itself. The genre of the first season of the show is obviously a mystery and a good one with several branches that, while connected, all had their own unique and complex answers or causes. The majority of these questions were answered in the season finale, which seemed an odd move from the network and producers who brought audiences the six season long Lost, where even in the finale things were left unanswered. 

It’s clear ABC and the showrunners wanted to capitalize on the success of the show while also trying to rectify the problems that had plagued it. One of the reasons the finale to Lost was likely going to be unsatisfying to many no matter what it contained, was that the show had simply been on for long and there was so much speculation and hype about how it would end that there was no way anything they could write would live up to fan expectations. Additionally, over the course of six season, plot holes began to build up that one two-part finale could never hope to make sense of. That’s the burden of putting long narrative mysteries on TV, they’re hard to land. This is why we’ve seen many shows that revolved around mysteries or crimes turn to the anthology format where every season poses a new question that is solved in a limited amount of episodes. This was likely the intent behind “looking inside the mystery box” at the end of OUAT’s first season; it was better to present a coherent and condensed mystery narrative than drag it out and risk creating a mountain of contradictions. This isn’t a terrible call, especially because Kitsis and Horowitz and their writers delivered on the promises they set up and presented great characters. It was a great set of 22 episodes. Had the show ended after 1 season, there would be little to talk about, it might even be regarded as one of the most competent mystery shows ever to air on a major network. However, the problem doesn’t lie in the first season, but what comes after it. 

Part 3: What happens now? 

OUAT managed to pull off a feat that should not have been possible considering the circumstances. After solving most of the mysteries that drove the plot and made the show interesting in season 1, they somehow managed to pull of a second season that didn’t drastically decrease in quality. In fact, on Rotten Tomatoes, season 2 has the highest critic and audience scores. The team behind the show had left just one stone unturned in the final episode of season one: what was the ultimate fate of the Enchanted Forest after the curse? 

The dual settings of the storybook land and the town had never collided. The showrunners took advantage of this and capitalized on the new dynamic of Emma going to the Enchanted Forest. Suddenly, in addition to the flashbacks that continued to flesh out recurring and new characters and the going-ons of Storybrooke, Emma’s adventures in the present of the Enchanted Forest became a third arm to the narrative. The show was still pretty exciting and had some fun twists and turns, but it was fundamentally different. It was no longer about small town social politics, intrigue, and putting together the pieces of a past in a magical world that how somehow leaked into reality. While the show had always been based in fantasy, the mystery kept it grounded. The second season launched it full speed into the fantastical and committed itself to being a strictly fantasy show. Regina remained a prominent antagonist, but the new villain was her mother, Cora, who became the first in a long series of villains who stayed around for a half to a whole season before either being defeated or fading into the shadow of a new big bad. There was no longer a larger ultimate goal the show was heading towards as it had been in its first season. The show’s identity had completely changed and this created a lot of problems.

Part 4: A wuick summary of the decline

The first season was fairly streamlined with each episode serving a clear purpose in pushing the mystery forward, with the new goal being to simply defeat the new bad guy, filler episodes began to crop up with some frequency as the writers tried to shoehorn in as many fairy tale characters as they possibly could. The flashbacks also began to double back. In order to line up with the new big bad narratives each season, the backstories of many characters had things retroactively inserted into them that didn’t really line up with what the audience already knew of the characters. 

The writers also kept trying to chase the magic of the first season, introducing new curse after new curse and continually undoing Regina’s character development to keep her as a constant antagonist. The show had nowhere to go, so the writers began throwing things at the wall and seeing what stuck. There was time travel and rewriting the past, there were other fantasy worlds where characters from other public domain stories that weren’t traditional fairy tales lived. The show ultimately did a soft reboot and basically recreated the storyline of the first season in the final season with Henry taking up Emma’s mantle of main investigator. And it was all...pretty lackluster. 

However, the biggest downfall of the show came in season 4. Season 3b had seen the writers managed to weave in Oz, which was featured because of the upcoming Disney flop Oz the Great and Powerful, and create a moderately interesting character and plot through the introduction of Zelena. This seemed to embolden them, because, whether forced by ABC and Disney execs or inspired by the massive commercial success of the film, a Frozen plotline was introduced. This wouldn’t have been too terrible had they not ripped the character designs and stories directly from the film itself. With Oz they’d put their own spin on the world, but Elsa and Anna received no such treatment. They were simply carbon copies of their film counterparts, which felt wildly out of place in a world where Peter Pan was Rumplestiltkin’s father and Prince Charming had an evil twin brother. Viewership began to decline in earnest over the fourth season, yet the writers never really learned their lesson, with most new introductions to the show being fairly similar to their previous appearances in films. 

The show had the benefit of continued good performances and the foundations of good characters. They also chose not to introduce a true love interest for Emma until the second season and didn’t begin to develop their relationship until the third. Their continued success hinged fairly squarely on the shoulders of shippers who cared more about Captain Swan than the actual narrative of the show. 

The turn to weak season to season plots was ultimately what hurt OUAT as the writers clearly ran out of viable ideas long before the show ended. This turn was ultimately necessitated when the show continued to be renewed despite having fulfilled its premise so early on. 

Part 5: Conclusion and the future fate of “mystery box” shows

Lost was fresh and unique and exciting when it premiered; there was really nothing else like it on TV. The desire to recapture what Lost did continues to this day (see NBC’s Manifest feat. OUAT alum Josh Dallas). However, should Lost be something writers try to recreate? The show had mass popularity, but the finale can routinely be found on lists of worst TV finales or TV finales that ruined shows along with the likes of Dexter and Game of Thrones. Lost ultimately failed to deliver on its promises. Some fans may enjoy the ending now or have come to understand it after rewatching the show a few times, but its still pretty controversial, enough so that pretty much every anniversary of the finale is marked by interviews with the cast and crew and articles about whether the ending worked or not. A successful mystery story shouldn’t leave audiences wondering if the mystery was actually solved. 

OUAT certainly doesn’t have the fanfare surrounding it as its predecessor. The show croaked to a finish in 2018 with a fraction of the viewership it had in its first season. OUAT had a really strong first season, proving that mystery box narratives can work in an episodic structure and come to a satisfying end. However, the problem was that the show continued on past that, shedding its mystery identity for a time and then desperately trying to go back to it when things began to turn. 

The show pretty strongly supports the thesis that mystery box shows might only work for one season. If stretched for too many seasons they either become extremely convoluted and impossible solve in a way that the audience will understand and enjoy or eventually have to solve the mystery and shift to a new structure to stay fresh (see Westworld which somehow manages to do both). Anthology mystery shows seem to have the right idea. However, what OUAT proved is that when a mystery box has a planned answer, they make for good television with satisfying payoff. 

This isn’t to say OUAT couldn’t have continued on extending the mystery of the original curse into more seasons. I see a world where it could’ve occupied a majority of the second season, with more questions being raised. However, OUAT suffered under network and showrunner fears of repeating mistakes. Drawing out a mystery over multiple seasons hadn’t, so they shied away from that. The premise of OUAT was brilliant and interesting, capitalizing on past trends while also adding a the new element of fairy tales; this brilliant premise and strong mystery was ultimately its downfall. Like many shows that were once Tumblr darlings, OUAT has some of the best seasons of television early on, but now many former fans are embarrassed to have been associated with it. The puzzle was completed too soon, yet fans wanted more content. The result was lazy and lackluster storytelling that have greatly tarnished the initial success and genius of the show.