#keep em humble kings!!!!

[wisteriander]

it’s not the Only reason but an actual reason i donate to wikipedia is because of their dedication to using the worst photos possible for celebrity pages

[0-dear-rose-0]

cough 

prom wendy!! guess who her date is hehe

[boowritess]

notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt

reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.

"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."

"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"

"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."

you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.

till you notice and shut that shet down.

"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."

"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."

"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."

you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.

"you wanna what you fucking freak?"

"excuse me-?"

"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."

"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."

and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?

"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."

"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"

"NO!" *141*

it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.

but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.

it turns out that you definitely have some perks.

you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.

in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.

"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."

*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*

"Nothing."

*recruit tries again.*

"Nothing."

it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.

what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.

that gets shut down real quick.

you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.

but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.

before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.

"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."

"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*

"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"

perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.

it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.

ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.

a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Granny Bucchi and Ruggie interaction for NRC Family Day, please!

"Well, Ruggie, this is quite the fancy school, ain't it? You've come pretty far from bein' that scraggly little runt that I raised." She chuckled as she teasingly but affectionately ruffles her grandson's hair. "Your ma woulda been proud of ya. Just don't let it get to your head too much, get me? And just make sure you keep eatin' enough, too."

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

His hair was already wild to begin with, but it was left all poofy like dandelion fluff once his grandma was through with it. Hands on him were usually a bad sign—a spanking for misbehaving, or another thief trying to nab his spoils for the day. But this was a happy exception.

“Nishishishishi. What'd I tell ya, Granny?” Ruggie snickered, smoothing down his wayward hair. “We’ve got a buncha’ rich kids and royalty lyin’ around, so NRC’s gotta be fancy to suit ‘em.

“They’ve got an extra special buffet set up for Family Day—all-you-can-eat and 100% free—so we should swing by to swipe some grub.” His eyes shone. “Plenty of good eats and gigs all around campus, so I’m gettin’ by just fine!”

“You’re right here with’m,” his grandma cried, heartily smacking him on the shoulder, “and you deserve every last thaumark of it!!”

“So do you.” He playfully nudged her back. “You’ll see. Once I graduate, I’ll make sure you can live the rest of your days with no worries.”

“You’re not bein’ very humble there, kiddo. Don’t you worry about me now! Ya do that ‘n all your fur’s gonna fall out before mine does!!” She wagged a finger at him. “Didn’t think it’d ever come to this. The rugrat I used to look after says he’s all grown up, wiry and strong, and plannin’ to do the same for me now.”

Ruggie’s relaxed smile turned slightly crooked. “Well, you did a pretty good job raising that rugrat. C’mon,” he laughed, excitedly tugging at his grandma’s arm, “we’ve got a feast waiting for us—and it ain’t gonna eat itself!!”

“Cool your jets, I’m comin’.”

Using her walking stick, Granny Bucchi hobbled along. Ruggie swooped in to offer his arm, which she latched onto for support. He eyed the ratty walking stick, which was beginning to rot in some spots and splinter at the ends.

“… First thing I’ll do when my next paycheck comes in is buy you a better one of these things,” he promised.

To this, his grandmother howled, showing all her teeth. “You’re a star, Ruggie.”

The two hyena prowled down Main Street and to the Main Building towering in the distance. Shining down on them was the sun, golden and welcoming. Granny Bucchi shaded her face and squinted up at the source of the sky’s warmth.

At night time, the great kings of the past would come out to greet their subjects. And scattered among those great kings were the commoners and their loved ones. Ruggie’s mother, too.

But the sun is also a star.

Granny Bucchi grinned.

She must be smiling down on us, so proud to see her son here.

[dragon-kazansky]

Spirit of the Sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Next Chapter}

Notes: This chapter is mostly just plot from episode 2 to get the story going. Every story has to start somewhere.

Chapter One - Ghost stories

♡♡♡

Izzy was looking down at the sight before him. To think someone was capable of running a ship aground was incomprehensible. No good sailor was capable of that mistake. It flagged up in his mind that this man was a fool.

"This lot managed to take English officers hostage?"

"Word is, yeah. Spotted 'em deck before they ran aground," Ivan says.

"Those hostages will fetch a pretty penny," Izzy muses.

He wanted a closer look.

Izzy, Ivan, and Fang all head down to the beach where most of this silly little crew were passing their time.

"Hello friend." Izzy calls out the man sitting on the rocks.

"I thought this isle were deserted." Buttons looks at the three men with suspicion.

"It is, mostly. We're merely humble wanderers passing through." Izzy keeps his eyes on him. "Is it just you then... in your party?"

"We've three more in a bush, plus a couple of hostages. You're not ghosts, are ye?" Buttons asks them.

Ghosts. Izzy found the word almost funny, not that he gave that away. He was no stranger to ghost stories. No, he was living and breathing. As real as day. His ghosts lay in the past.

Izzy led his men further onto the island. Those hostages were valuable. Getting them was easy. Izzy simply bought them. Stede and his men has been captured by the people that live here. Izzy simply bought the hostages from the tribe and walked away with them.

As far as Izzy could see it, there wasn't much point in investigating Stede further for now. The man had run his ship aground, got caught, and now lost his hostages all before the day was over.

Didn't seem like much of a threat.

♡♡♡

Upon realising his hostages had been taken, Stede felt himself fall apart a little bit. Yeah, he wasn't a very good pirate, but he was trying.

"Just call it, old chump. You're in over your head. You crash the boat, you lose the hostages. It's just... It's all so... pathetic."

Badminton, who was haunting Stede after be killed by him... kind of, was mocking him.

All his life Stede was mocked and downgraded. Always talked down upon as if he could amount to nothing.

Not this time. He wouldn't let them win.

"I am adequate." Stede marched forward.

"I'm sorry?" Oluwande asked.

"I said, let's get our damned men back. The hostages, I mean."

Pete and Olu nod and agree with him, following him back into the tree line.

♡♡♡

Stede crouched down hidden from view. Pete and Olu on either side of him. Through the trees they could see three men in black with their hostages.

"Who the hell are those guys?" Stede asks quietly.

"I don't know, but they look much tougher than us." Olu replies.

"Tougher then you, maybe," Pete scoffs.

"Oh ok. Why don't you go down there and confront them then, big man. The strongest out of us."

"Enough! Shh, guys. OK, here's the plan."

Stede goes quiet.

"What is it then?" Olu asks.

"Mm?"

"The plan."

"Oh, uh, shh, it's coming," Stede tells him.

Another moment of silence and then Stede gets an idea.

"A diversion... OK? A diversion, it's what we need to do."

"Yeah... yeah, but you said 'I've got a plan,' as if you... You gotta just go with it." Olu sighs.

Stede shushes him.

"I have a plan!"

Stede's plan came in the form of a ghost story. One he had heard about before taking to the seas.

♡♡♡

"Release us now, and I'll ensure you're spared a painful death at the hands of our king." The Englishman said, attempting a go to get free from this man.

"Ooh, what say you, Fang?" Izzy asks.

Fang chuckles and pushes the man forward. "I'm your king now, bitch." The English falls to the ground.

Stede jumps out of the bushes.

"Good day, gents." Stede, looking as feral as he could possibly be looking right now with a knife in his hand, begins his diversion. "I believe we have dibs on those men."

Izzy looks back at the hostage behind him curiously and then back at Stede. "Dibs, you say?"

"Yes. So, please, hand them over. Quick as you can. Oh, and by the way, I will not be trifled with, so don't even think about trifling me."

Izzy looked at this strange man with amusement. He starts to walk forward.

"You're trifling me. I'm warning you. Don't trifle. Don't you trifle."

Izzy draws his sword and slices it several time. Stede is caught off guard. When Izzy is done, Stede is amazed not to feel a single sting. Izzy had torn up his shirt and had not left a scratch on Stede.

That was some impressive swordsman skills.

"You're quite skilled." Stede says, even though the other man has his sword pointing right at him.

"This is how you die."

In that moment there was some high pitched whaling sound coming from the trees.

"Do you hear that?" Stede asks.

"This is the spirit of the seas!" A voice calls out. Izzy frowns.

"I didn't know this island was haunted."

"It's obviously one of your men," Izzy states, unimpressed.

"But is it?"

"Yes, it is."

"But is it?" Stede whispers.

"Ivan!" Izzy yells.

"Oi, the spirit of the seas haunts the seas! Not islands." Ivan calls out. He immediately gets hit in the face with a rock and falls backward, his face bleeding.

Pete swings from the trees and collides into Fang. Stede uses the distraction to move and point his knife into Izzy's cheek.

"I've already ruined one man's head this week, and believe me, I'll do it again." Stede keeps his eye on Izzy.

"Believe him. He's quite insane." One of the hostages speaks up.

"He does have the eyes of a madman," the other says.

"What are your demands?" Izzy asks.

"Well, I was thinking a compromise," Stede says.

"I'm listening."

"Well, uh... we'd be willing to give up one of the men, if that would prevent further bloodshed."

Ivan moans about his nose, convinced it's broken.

"Oh, and by the way, you are completely surrounded. My entire crew... is just beyond these trees." Stede looks around them and then calls out, "Upon my signal, unleash hell!"

"Fine," Izzy growls. He's already fed up with this fool. Stede lowers his knife.

They exchange the hostage. One each.

"There's always another way to resolve things, isn't there?" Stede says, looking at the other man. "Stede Bonnet. Pirate Captain."

"Izzy Hands." Izzy stares at him. "This isn't over, Mr Bonnet."

"Good," Stede says, backing up slowly. "Cos I kind of enjoyed it."

Izzy watched Stede and his men run off.

"Pirates, my arse."

Ivan and Fang take their hostage back toward the trees. Izzy stands still for a moment, his jaw clenched.

Hearing 'Spirit of the sea' turned his stomach. How dare they use you for their pathetic little show. Your soul deserves to rest in peace, not be used by some wannabe pirate pansy.

Ivan and Fang head first toward the shore. Izzy stayed behind a moment. He took a moment to take out the ring he wore around his neck, letting it sit on his bare palm for a moment. He stared at it in silence.

He would give anything to have you beside him again. You're meant to be here with him.

Izzy clutches the ring tight in his hand and almost growls in frustration. He puts the ring away and marches on, heading to the shore.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting -

[eldritch-spouse]

What happened with original Icons? You know, Asmodues, Mammoth, Satan, etc. Where are they? Are they dead? Are they ancestors of modern Icons?

(Your aimless questions attract the attention of a humble historian, who, maybe out of pity, or perhaps out of loneliness, sits beside you. His posture is mildly concerning.)

" I can tell from the names alone you're the Christian type, right? You must be. "

(He nods to himself.)

" Do me a huge favor. It grates on my nerves having to listen to these fables getting perpetuated for endless centuries -Even my old man wouldn't shut the fuck up about it, may Dorem be kind to him- Forget everything you heard about the sins and the originals. "

" It's all wrong. All of it. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how bastardized the history of this planet and its annexes has been. By your kind specifically. You erased history! It's miserable! You've been living your little lies for a shameful eternity... I guess I understand why. "

(There's a huff.)

" You couldn't even get their names right... "

" Of course they're dead! Do you even know the rulers of today's Perdition? Dead and burned to a crisp, their ashes too probably bathe the grounds of the Rings modern demons walk upon -Oh, the Fragmentation Wars were something truly spectacular- I wish I had been there myself sometimes. "

" Listen kid. Even we have difficulty putting it all back together, thanks to all this damage being constantly spread. I know demons who are more disconnected with their past than you- At least you know there's Icons out there! I've met some fucking skid marks that think 'Satan' is still bumbling around... "

" I'll tell you right now, three of 'em got nothing to do with the originals. Vorticia, Livius and Kalymir. "

(He tuns to face you better.)

" You know how Wrath is, right? Any nut can just have a go at the King, and if they win, they rule. Kalymir doesn't have a single royal bone to him. And that fucker's got a lot of bones... "

" Vorticia is an impeccable Queen, if you ask me. She's better than whatever the fresh fuck Gluttony could have got stuck with, but we're mostly positive she comes from adjacent families. Close to the court, y'know? "

" And Livius... It's a bit hard to tell with all the massacres in Envy's royal lineage, though you can probably safely bet that he was a cousin of the last prince. An ambitious cousin, eh? They say 'keep your friends close but your enemies closer'- I don't think it worked out that well for him. Keep Livius ten feet away from you at all times, those hands reach far. "

" Don't worry about any of that though. If you ask me, us history enthusiasts are going to have some bright days ahead, now that there's two whole highers settled on the surface. "

(A tail can be heard swatting beneath long, weathered robes.)

" Two of them, you hear me? You and I? We're going to bare witness to a new age! Aren't you excited?! "

" We're talking about THE Goddess Miara and the Plaguemaster -You don't even know who those are, you poor idiot, it's not your fault- And I just know they're in contact. I know it! "

(The demonoid coughs, scratchy voice cracking.)

" Anyway. We should talk more sometime. "

(You get the feeling he wants company really bad.)

[lunarxylem]

🕊️ Bird Fun Facts 🕊️

This funny little guy is Raffaello Cookie, Head pharmacist of the Dark Cacao Kingdom and eventually monarch who rules beside King Dark Choco

Their pronouns are They/Them He/Him

and I’m about to yap your ear off about them under the read more

A species of rare, intelligent, and reclusive magical creatures from a world that existed before resolution which made the freezing and harsh landscape of the Dark Cacao region their home before the twin dragons’ battle was brought to an end. One such erosion bird (yes, those Erosion Birds) found the Black Citadel and decided to nest there.

Raffaello hatched as a fluffy little chick but having been eventually raised by a Cacaoen Falconer/beast tamer, Rondnoir Cookie. He’d been keeping an eye on the strange little bird and when one day the baby fell out of the nest without mama around, Roidnoir actually climbed up to the nest to put baby Raffaello back. This was their first ever exposure to humans, and seeing how many of them there were and that maybe they weren’t so bad, their body began to copy the human form. although having no reference made even an attempt to blend in fail outright.

At one point Rondnoir would find the strange little fledgeling following him around from a distance more than they would their own mother as she began to separate from her young due to Erosion Birds being mostly solitary creatures.

And while Raffaello was doing alright on their own, they definitely didn’t have much a handle on things. They were sickly and had to rely on themself for food, and seeing this baby bird that he’d more or less been watching over since the day they were born, Rondnoir decided he might as well take them in, he didn’t know much about kids but, maybe he could work something out with his knowledge of how to raise birds.

As Raffaello grew up it was clear they weren’t cut out to be a swordsman, so instead they poured all of their knowledge into knowing how to forage for herbs and cures, understanding everything they could find in documentation of the Cacao Kingdom’s history of medicine, they were even able to channel the magic within themself to absorb sickness into their feathers, then as a giant bird creature head off into the harsh climate far from civilization to further understand and disburse the illness through molting said feathers.

This magic is of great use to the Royal family to keep them alive and well should an unknown illness befall his majesty. Soon enough Raffaello would be moved into the palace and live in the house of the king should they ever be needed right away.

In this time while they continued their studies and research they would meet the young prince and feel something they never had before. Raffaello meets up with the prince to more properly introduce themself to him, and he’s just such a wonderful man, so powerful yet so humble and kind, it was like the moment their eyes met something had bound them together.

Sure hope nothing bad happens to em-!

[popatochisssp]

off the rails? poppy what else did you do

Well.

Here's the rest of The Court Au. :)

Undertale

-

House Snowmirth

-

A respectable family on the low end of nobility. They gained their status as entertainers, most famed for their performances during winter festivals, and there’s a long line of ice-carvers, jugglers, musicians, and more in their humble yet sought-after family.

The last head of the house was less than enthused by their frivolous reputation, an academic who hoped the family name would become synonymous with intelligence and higher education—which he did his best to instill in his only two sons. Results were…arguably mixed, as both certainly grew up well-read and quick-witted, but with little interest in a scholar’s life.

The eldest’s skill at humorous wordplay was fine enough to make King Asgore laugh for the first time since the Queen disappeared, and the younger was inspired by tales of heroism to chase glory of his own as a knight. Alas for their father, but the (metaphorical) blood of the performer runs strongly in them both.

The house crest is depicted as a snowflake, curved as if smiling, and denotes the family motto of ‘Greater Together.’

-

Underswap

-

House Starstryke

-

A noble family, with its standing on the decline. While previously renowned for their brilliant tacticians and wise generals, prolonged peacetimes meant less need of their talents and their relevance at court diminishing by the generation.

The previous head of house did all in his power to regain the prestige he felt they were unjustly losing, seeking connections with many other nobles of higher standing—doing favors, striking alliances, and the like. He encouraged similar behavior in his sons, who both grew to be kind and generous young men…who care absolutely nothing for the standing of their house.

The eldest at least chose to seek some glory in pursuing a knighthood, but insists on earning it fairly, and the youngest has chosen to sidestep any attention at all entirely by shutting himself away to work in the archives, largely unseen. Well…though they don’t seem to care to elevate the family name, they at least seem committed to keeping it a good name and wearing it respectably.

The crest of their house is a shooting star in flight, an emblem of the family motto to ‘Choose Your Moment.’

-

Underfell

-

House Helflame

-

A highly respected, wealthy and powerful noble family, famed for the long line of strong and ruthless soldiers it has always produced for the Emperor’s ranks. Militaristic in nature, all of their line trained from birth with the aspiration to one day fight in the ranks of the Royal Guard…or at least, they did.

The last known head of the house had only two children, who were of course trained heavily in swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat, pit against each other to fight for the glory of becoming the recognized heir to the family name and fortune. Before an heir was declared, however, both sons disappeared, and the fate of the remnants of their glorious house is still a mystery.

In reality, the eldest son denounced the family name and fled, passing over wealth and glory for a simpler life by his own sword. The younger followed after him, still with aspirations to the Royal Guard and to do great and noble things, but determined to pave his own way and not rely on a legacy to win it for him.

The house’s crest is a flaming skull without a jaw, a reminder of the family motto: ‘Show Them Hell.’

-

Swapfell

-

House Swiftshield

-

A high-ranking noble family, in close association with the royal family going back centuries. Their line has been direct servants and protectors to the crown as far as anyone can remember, and the trust and privilege built has elevated them quite highly.

The prior head of the house was fully committed to staying this course and maintaining the close, esteemed relationship with Empress. As such, he impressed upon his sons from a young age that loyalty to the crown was their highest calling, and to serve the Empress should come before all else—wants, needs, and even (especially) their own lives. …It was a terrible shock when he was found murdered, and no culprit was ever caught, but life goes on.

The eldest son followed obediently into the life expected of him and, with the privilege of his house to ease his way, worked his way up through the ranks of the Royal Guard to serve at the arm of the Empress herself. The younger was…not particularly suited to any kind of military service, but instead pursued his personal passions and at least displayed a talent for the arts to make a name for himself.

The crest of the house is an ornate winged shield with a bolt of cloth draped over its corner. The family motto is ‘All For Duty.’

-

Horrortale

-

House Pinevale

-

A noble family, but more in name than anything else—with little wealth or prestige to call their own. Theirs was one of the first families to settle the land when the kingdom was new, explorers and frontiersmen who scouted territory, cleared brush and raised buildings. Well-respected, but mostly by legacy.

The previous head of house was content with this reputation and dedicated himself to a lifetime of humble, loyal service to the King. How successfully he managed the first two is debatable, but he was unquestionably loyal until his (somewhat early) death. It was his wish that his two sons follow in his footsteps and be dignified and morally upstanding members of court, even should their house never gain higher prestige.

The eldest son at least waited until his father’s passing to do away with the pretense of dignity and pursue a career as the court jester, and the younger never made any secret of his aspirations of glory and knighthood over a humble life—but their moral fortitude and loyalty was always steadfast throughout.

This was especially evident when King Asgore was assassinated, among many other casualties, and both brothers weathered the storm of uncertainty that followed in the kingdom. When the king’s successor faltered and made some questionable, consequential judgment calls early in her reign, and there was an argument, and… Well, in the aftermath, both sons showed the dignity of their house in continuing to serve the queen—the elder now in the stables and the younger tending and treating the knights.

Their house crest is a sleeping bear, the line of its back reminiscent of a mountain range, and their motto is to ‘Walk Soft, Hold Firm.’

-

Undergloom

-

House Heatherfog

-

A common house, of neither wealth nor nobility, but even commoners have a care of their legacy. Most of their line were gatherers, herbalists and apothecaries that treated the farmers and peasants in the lower villages. They believed strongly in the power of community and were known for giving aid to anyone in need, regardless of status or ability to pay.

The prior head of the house was fully committed to these ideals and hoped above all else to be able to make a difference in the world, to bring health and joy to as many corners of the kingdom as could be reached. Should his lofty ambitions fall short of his lifetime, he encouraged both of his sons to live their lives the same.

The eldest son, frail since birth, found this path difficult to walk until discovering the contagious joy of music and the ease with which even one so weak as he could make and share it. The younger made slightly unconventional use of the family’s encyclopedic recordings of herbs, making a study of flavor and seasoning in food such that his meals now bring pleasure and comfort to all who partake.

The crest of their house, though they have no signets or shields to engrave it upon, is a simple spiraled cloud. The family motto is ‘See Through.’

-

Horrorfell

-

House Bludthorne

-

A high-ranking, famous—or perhaps, infamous—noble family. Their history is just as full of strong, ruthless soldiers as it is bloody betrayals and backstabbing schemes, the name practically descended into legend for how cold and vicious its members were on and off the battlefield, seeking power by any means necessary.

The last known head of house was no different, a cold and calculating man who saw little merit in emotion or attachment. It was something of a surprise when he admitted to two sons, when most assumed he would rather his proud name die with him than pass it to an unworthy successor—which surely anyone but him would be.

It was perhaps less of a surprise when both his alleged sons vanished one day, leading to some…distasteful speculation about their fate, when really the eldest simply grew sick of his father’s iron fist and fled to make his own way in the world, younger brother in tow. They lived for some time in relative anonymity, as a mercenary and a knight of no particular house.

When Emperor Asgore was assassinated and his successor proved to be both inexperienced and made cruel by grief and anger, the younger son spoke out against her and he—and his brother—were severely punished for the infraction. They kept up the appearance of contrition for some time after, enough to amass and stir a rebellion that would unseat the interim queen and set a new king upon the throne. The elder son, rendered mute and with a feeble hold upon his wild, fighting spirit, was unfit to rule but lives a life of luxury as brother to a king and does all in his power to defend his remaining family. The younger rules still, a stern yet fair king to the realm.

The crest of their house is a rose button knot, tied with thorns instead of rope. Their motto is ‘Drop By Drop.’

-

Horrorswap

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House Stormglade

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A lower tier, yet still noble family, comprised of skilled archers and huntsmen who served the crown both in battle and in trapping game. Over time the need for the former diminished and the latter tended to be done only recreationally, leaving subsistence hunting to more common folk the higher into society their name ascended.

The prior head of house saw little value in the old ways and spent most of his time and energy at court, honing social niceties and noble manners to cement his standing as a courtier and cut ties with a somewhat unseemly, rugged past. Still, there were some lessons to be learned from nature—to respect it, to act decisively, to take nothing for granted—and these he passed on to his sons, alongside sparingly few practical wilderness skills, for emergencies.

The eldest son sought a knighthood and the younger favored scholarly pursuits, both entirely respectable paths for the noble courtiers they were intended to be…but fate had other plans. A plague struck the kingdom, brought in by an outsider, and people began to get sick and Fall at alarming rates. No one, not even royalty was exempt, and though their line was nowhere close to succession, the elder son ended up on the throne, completely unprepared for the duty. The younger did his best to support his brother, frequently leaving on trips outside the kingdom to seek food, supplies, and any chance of help for those too sick to do so.

It was during one such absence that the untrained and desperate king made the decision to shut the castle gates and quarantine all who remained…even at the cost of locking his brother out, who hadn’t yet returned. And unluckily, also a disguised witch who came seeking shelter and took great personal offense to being turned away at king’s decree, casting a curse upon him—that his form should be as shifting and wavering as his integrity until he can forgive himself for what he’s done. When the quarantine was lifted and the younger son returned—after much hardship of his own in the wilderness—he found a convalescing kingdom, but no king to rule it, his brother having long since fled in shame.

A regent was left on the throne to rule in his place, and the errant prince’s quest to seek the missing king began.

The crest of this torn house is a lightning-struck tree, boughs in the middle and bolt and trunk above and below, as a mirror. The family motto is to ‘Stand Tall.’

-

House Moontide

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Little is known about this royal house, so old and forsaken that even legends of it have mostly fallen out of memory. Its halls, full of cracked stone and discolored cloth, depict paintings and tapestries of both moon and sea, nereids springing forth from the waves and ethereal spirits descending from lunar light and dancing together hand-in-hand.

The last head of this ancient house, who could have spoke to the meaning of these depictions, translated the strange runes on the walls and in the surviving books, passed on long, long ago, with no heir to succeed them. The land itself has withered and grown barren as the castle has sat empty, awaiting a worthy ruler to sit upon its throne and reawaken the old magic that lies dormant within it.

A stranger has come to the castle keep in recent days, seeking only shelter—but the kingdom’s magic has begun to stir ever so slightly, in preparation for a king who can restore glory to the once grand Moontide house.

The crest of this ageless family is a crescent moon, mirrored by a cresting wave, with stars inside the circle they form. Their long unheard motto is ‘Ebb and Flow’

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Horrorswapfell

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House Ravenknell

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A noble family of high prestige, well-known as trusted scouts and messengers for the royal family since the royal family’s existence. Dedicated, vigilant, and often fleet of foot, their duty has been to serve the crown however they have been needed.

The prior head of house was deeply invested in this reputation, viewing it as a critical stepping stone to maintain should the time ever come that he could…elevate…his status, by alliance or perhaps, by force. By his own boasting, he was quite strict with his two sons, demanding their complete obedience and to see every task, lesson, and trial to the end, no matter the cost. …His sudden death was a surprise but perhaps not very much of a tragedy as he was not well-liked at court (or at home).

He was succeeded by his eldest, who embodied all of his father’s preached values plus a strong love of family, a trait which quite endeared him to the Empress and made his eventual rise to her personal guard all the easier. The younger son, doted upon and left to his own devices took up painting and was actually quite skilled at it. Things went well for a time, and then didn’t.

A dark force set its sights upon the kingdom and took possession of the General of the Royal Guard, using her trusted face to gain access to the Empress, and cut her reign short. Her escape was prevented when the elder son happened upon her, but the ensuing fight blinded and near-mortally wounded him, and many others were injured or killed before she was able to break free of whatever was controlling her. The younger son, as the highest ranking, fully-conscious and able-bodied nobleman left ordered the portcullis dropped, no one in or out of the castle walls until they could all be sure it was truly safe.

When the erstwhile Emperor Asgore heard of what had happened and returned from exile, he was all too gratefully returned to the throne and normalcy—or a semblance of it—began to resume. The older son, no longer fit to fight in the Guard himself, found new purpose in training soldiers and knights to serve in his stead, and the younger took up a guard duty of his own standing sentry on the wall, vigilant to prevent future threats to the kingdom.

The house crest is a raven in flight, beak open to call out. Their family motto is ‘Watch Close, Fly True.’

-

Gastertale

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House Driftwind

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The history of this house is particularly odd…in that it seems to have no history. It’s strangely absent from all court genealogies, even under misspellings or in records thorough enough to outline the detailed lineage of a common-born ditch-digger from five generations back.

The previous head of this house…was not, actually, the head of this house, because it didn’t exist until quite recently—but he did exist, at least until he didn’t. He was a nobleman, of minor standing, unmarried or otherwise partnered, and the thought that he might pass on as the last of his house—the last of his very species—both alarmed and upset him. He sought to make a legacy on his own, using unconventional magic to make more skeletons of himself. He’d hoped for children, but what he got was…split.

The twin sons of the house which does not actually exist were born as half-grown youths, with jumbled memories and in an estate actively burning to the ground with a strange, unearthly magic fire. The moment they stepped free of the crumbling manor, they forgot it, as if it had simply been removed from their minds. It was all quite odd and upsetting but the two young men—sans any family to call on, or even a scrap of papyrus to write for aid, if they had—hatched a plan to build (or rebuild?) a life for themselves.

The shorter twin found he had a talent for charming and making friends of even the most standoffish of people, and the taller a gifted logician with an impeccable grasp of etiquette and proper courtly manners. Between the two of them, they made a house of their own and passed it off to those at court as truth. The story of a burned estate (which somehow felt right) and ruined belongings earned much sympathy, and many courtiers allowed them use of rooms for a time, invited them to feasts to take their minds off the trouble, introduced them to other sympathetic nobles—all the way up to the king himself, who especially favored the taller twin’s wise advice, and now they’ve all but made it as the real deal, a noble family.

The crest they long ago decided on for their house, and are finally having properly cast as seals and signets and embroidered into finery, is a balanced scale with ringing bells and trumpeting horns to either side. The motto of their very small family is ‘In Fair and Foul.’

-

Transcendtale

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House Fallowkeep

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A lowly ranked family, not far from commoners. Primarily known as guards and watchmen in the lower towns, minding fields and livestock from predators and thieves, their history is far from glamorous but still worthy of some respect for their role in maintaining order.

The last head of house was not entirely pleased with their lack of standing, but was largely resigned to it and realized the folly of looking a gift-horse in the mouth—or more plainly, of taking their relative comfort for granted and risk losing it entirely by trying to scrabble for more, and more, and more. He counseled his children to strive for excellence as what they were, and to not reach too far beyond their station.

His eldest managed to both obey and disobey this directive as a mere insouciant jester, but to the highest authority in the land, and his younger openly dismissed the idea of not aiming too far above his station by seeking a knighthood. Still, their ambitions carried them well and they were happy, until they weren’t.

A necromancer besieged the kingdom one day, slaying all in their path and resurrecting all they killed to serve in their army of the undead as mindless slaves. Only the jester was spared—an act of cruel humor—and escaped to find the court physician who had only just missed the slaughter by a day’s travel. Together they found a cursed tome of the same dark magics the necromancer used, a slim chance to undo what was done…that only one of them had the nerve (or lack of care for the fate of his soul) to take.

The former jester became a death wizard himself, turning his bones to cold iron and giving his soul for the power to wrest control of his felled kingdom away from the necromancer and revenge his loved ones. After, their bodies died again, properly this time, but their spirits—warped and altered by death and resurrection—did not die, made capable of persisting after death as human souls sometimes do. The kingdom, including a delighted invulnerable phantom knight, chose to remain in the land of the living as a haunted ghost kingdom, and continued life mostly as normal…just, now technically dead.

The family crest of the fallen jester and ghost knight is the skull of an ox, draped with sacrificial tassels. Their motto is ‘Bounty From Barrens.’

-

Ascendswap

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House Morngleam

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A highly respected and highly wealthy noble family, built by merchants, bankers, and tradesmen, all renowned for keen intuition and a drive that never quit. Somewhat lavish in matters of taste, they’re nonetheless known to be honest and of excellent character which has brought them quite far in the world.

The last head of house was a proud man, bordering on boastful and often going on about the great glory of his house (to many sighs and rolling eyes), but he never spoke falsely. His sons were raised to be proud and confident in all that they do, and to strive to add their own great deeds to the many that adorn their illustrious and distinguished name.

The eldest son sought to serve the kingdom as a knight someday, and the younger thought the archives would be a noble, if humble, pursuit…and this is where fate found them when the kingdom came under siege by a great and powerful army. Queen Toriel bravely resisted the invasion and for a time, her forces held ground, but soon—overwhelmed by numbers and tireless warring—they were forced to retreat behind the castle gates and attempt to withstand the war of attrition brought to their doorstep.

Mere weeks away from being starved out and forced to surrender, the squire snuck out of the castle, willingly risking life and limb to seek aid for the kingdom. Though he avoided detection in his escape, he had little success finding allies willing to fight the enemy he described…until a strange feeling compelled him along an untrod path, deep into the heart of the forest, where a faerie ring lay awaiting. Entering, he found the Summer Court—faefolk—willing to lend their aid, at a price, and only should he bring his monarchs to them to pay the same.

Returning to the kingdom, fae-touched and stranger than when he left it, he managed to convince the queen to come along and with help, even tracked down the estranged king too—but that ‘help’ who insisted on coming along (his brother, the Captain of the Guard, the court physician) cost him a greater price than he had already promised to pay… Still, bargains were struck, alliances made, and the kingdom freed itself from the siege, with very few Affected by the fae. No longer a fighter but with a strange sight and a keen sense of the world’s energies, the former squire now serves the queen as a mystic, and the bookish scholar has followed a new attunement to the wilds and keeps the falcons of the crown.

The crest of their house is a half-sunburst, reminiscent of the early hours, and their motto is ‘Chase The Dawn.’

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Underfell Fruition

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House Warhart

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A common house, populated mostly by rangers and mercenaries in years past. At times they’ve been wealthy and had some measure of respect approaching nobility, but these times coincided with skirmishes and conflicts which required their skill—and peace has reigned for many decades now.

The last head of this house was greatly dissatisfied with the state of things and believed it was his purpose to elevate their name to—and beyond—the glory it had once held. Seeing an avenue to assert himself as a powerful figure, he turned to religion, preaching to those who believed that an Angel of legend would come and lead the kingdom to peace and prosperity the likes of which it had never known. He told all in the congregation he presided over that the coming of The Angel was soon, and when they came, their followers would be called to fight, conquering all who chose other beliefs and bringing peace by means of hard-won war.

He had two sons by this time, the first sickly and weak, and the second healthy and strong. The elder son was expressly vocal in his disagreement with his father’s ideals and the way he was manipulating the townspeople for his own benefit…and for this, he was thrown into an oubliette, left to wither and starve on meager rations tossed down to him sparingly while his absence was explained by ‘divine illness,’ punishment for his heresy. The younger son, around the same time as his brother fell ‘ill,’ was sent away to train with the militia—a show of his father’s faith in what he preached that he would even give his own son for the cause.

The imprisoned son survived in captivity, growing attuned to the magic in the very earth and air around him and even learning to draw upon it to sustain himself when he may have otherwise perished. His brother adapted to the grueling training regimen he was subjected to and became the star soldier of the zealots’ army, the strongest, fastest, and most obedient of their number.

When the Royal Guard came to investigate the rumors of a military cult forming in an outlying village of the kingdom, the cult’s leader was dispatched and all prisoners freed—including the brothers. The elder found a niche performing in the court of the Emperor whose forces ended his stay in the ground, and the younger became a carpenter’s apprentice, seeking a constructive trade as far from making war as could be.

The crest of their house is a stag with its head lowered to charge. Their motto is ‘To The Last Man.’

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Swapfell Fruition

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House Nyteblade

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A house of great wealth and means, but little social clout…at least, as far as is public. Their line is known to run in one of two directions: recluses and bon vivants, with little variation. What they all have in common, unbeknownst to the court at large, is a hand in shady dealings, from theft to reconnaissance to assassination and everything in between—all in the service of the crown. To maintain secrecy, they could never be acknowledged openly for the work they’ve done but have always been rewarded well to live comfortably and maintain cover.

The now-late head of house was a diligent and ruthless spymaster for the Empress and pulled the strings of all his clandestine assets as deftly and nimbly as any harper, a true master of the web he’d woven… Though, perhaps too tangled in it to realize the folly of raising two sons to follow in his ruthless, underhanded dealings, sons who feared and hated him in equal measure.

Following their father’s untimely death, the eldest son succeeded him directly, taking control of the underground network that had been built to serve Empress Toriel and continuing to use it for exactly that purpose, business as usual. The younger son, well-practiced in espionage and assassination, maintained a cover as a roguish devil of a courtier with time and money and little care to how he spent either…Perhaps not so much of a cover, but a very easy reputation with which to do his job.

The removal of their father was the turn of the hourglass, however, and gave them a limited time to make arrangements to be out of the picture before the killers and assassins under them followed in their footsteps and tried to remove them the same way. Choosing a suitable mark, the ruler of a neighboring kingdom, the younger employed his considerable powers of seduction and won a marriage proposal to bring him—and his brother—far, far from the reach or care of conspirators he was no longer in the way of.

The crest of the house the youngest son left behind, that the eldest still bears is a pair of crossed stiletto daggers with ornate grips. Their motto was ‘From Shadow, Glory.’

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House Wulfmaw

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The royal family of a middlingly prosperous kingdom, availed of decent resources and power, but suffering from…mismanagement. The line is mostly known as drunkards and adulterers and warmongers—but not in any of their hearing, as they’ve also been known for their hot tempers.

The last monarch on the throne was no exception to the reputation of their family, spending poorly and skirmishing often with neighboring kingdoms over territory, to say nothing of many, many diplomatic incidents caused by poor manners with dignitaries at court.

No one was especially surprised when the monarch chose a low-ranking foreign nobleman of…not dissimilar temperament to be their prince-consort. It was a bit of a surprise when the monarch passed, though the suggestion that ample wine and poor decisions may have been the cause made sense of that. It was certainly strange when none came forth from the proper line of succession and the prince-consort became the crown-prince, but…

Frankly, the new prince was a decidedly cooler head upon which to rest the crown, with a much better grasp of diplomacy and charm than any monarchs in living memory. A bit of a philanderer and a shirker, with a tendency to flounce off seeking pleasure over duty, certainly, but the brother he brought with him does a decent enough job wrangling his larking about and seems to keep things running smoothly. It seems…for the best, to let things continue as they are, and perhaps have a kingdom which can be taken seriously by the other realms, maybe even respected.

The crest of the family is the head of a wolf with its jaws open in a snarl. Their motto was, and is ‘Swallow Mercy.’

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Descendtale

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House Blackroot

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A common family, little more than simple farmers who tended the land and reaped the fruits (and vegetables) of their labor. All among their number were hard-working, salt of the earth folks who had little money and next to no prestige to their name, but plots of land to sow and (usually) enough to go around.

The last patriarch of the family was hardened and embittered by a life of labor he had never wanted and dreams he was never able to achieve for himself. To his sons, he left the lesson that there isn’t a thing in life that will simply be handed over for nothing, and to grip onto whatever you get with both hands.

Both of his children took the lesson to heart, and the elder studied and honed his humor until he was good enough to perform in the royal court for the king himself, and the younger spent countless hours training mind and body to have a chance at becoming a fully-fledged knight of the realm. They lived well, comfortably above their social station for many a year.

Things changed when a stranger came to the kingdom one day and snuck into the royal vaults beneath the castle, where many powerful artifacts and beautiful treasures were stored. They took only one small thing, a token said to grant prosperity to those who hold it…at the cost of unleashing a great darkness upon the land from which it is taken. In the wake of the theft of this cursed totem, a perpetual night fell across the kingdom and its borders were ringed with sharp and wicked thorns—penning its inhabitants in. King Asgore attempted to tear through the briars as they began to grow in, devouring the kingdom like a living thing, but the prick of their thorns caused a deep and deathly illness and he passed quickly after that.

The Queen burned her way through—a passage which grew over completely in only days—and ruled in his stead, adapting the kingdom to survive in permanent night. The people slept in strange patterns, ate what crops would still grow in darkness, and simply...carried on.

The former jester quite lost his good humor and began to manage the dungeons as they filled up with treasure-seekers come to look for more artifacts like the one that was famously stolen from a cursed kingdom where there was surely no one left to protest—grave-robbers in intention, if not in truth. The aspiring knight found greater purpose in trimming back the perpetual growth of the evil thorns at their border, preventing risk to others who could scratch flesh upon them and fall gravely ill, perhaps die…and of course to keep the castle and its nearest surrounding lands from being lost to those who still must live there. Like himself!

The crest of their family is a tree of life, centered more on the roots than trunk or boughs, and ringed by an ouroboros. Their motto is ‘Dig In Deep.’

[gwaedhannen]

WIP (very much no longer) Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @melestasflight! Not tagging anyone else because it's very much no longer Wednesday (my dudes).

Here's some bits from A Million Dead and I?, wherein Finarfin sits in a garden for a few thousand years.

High King Arafinwë of the Noldor returned in triumph to Valinor, with his enemy humbled and cast into nonexistence, with scattered handfuls of the haggard and homeless elves of Beleriand-that-was looking for new homes in the West, with none of the family he thought to save. For many days he mourned with High Admiral Eärwen his wife, together remembering the sunken lands their sons had died for. At last he arose, and went to his councilors, and together finalized the plans he had proposed half a century prior, upon the eve of the long-awaited War. And when all the pronouncements had been published and the criers left their squares, Arafinwë laid the sceptre of his father upon the High Council’s table, placed the crowned helm Celebrimbor had forged for him upon his father’s throne, and departed from Tirion alone.

Arafinwë learns several things in the first few decades of vigil outside the Doors of Mandos. First: one cannot properly cry as a houseless spirit. “Oh Pianyellë, Pianyellë! I’m so sorry, I was so tired, I thought I could just lie down for a moment…” Second: robes which dry quickly are a necessity. “They never came back from a hunt, and I…I just didn’t see a reason to keep walking without them.” Third: the Grinding Ice was not only worse than he imagined, it was worse than he can imagine. “It…there were no Powers. There was no light. No judgement. He was dead, we’d already handed out his furs. I thought, I thought. He wasn’t using the rest anymore either, was he?” Fourth: his would not always be a welcome face. “You LEFT us, uncle. Left us to die, left us to ruin! It should’ve been you, down there, f-forced to watch as we fell. It sh–it shou…I should’ve been there! Atya, atya! If–if I was there, would…?”

I died at Alqualondë. Was trying to herd some Teler children away from the docks, get them somewhere safe. A sailor saw us, thought I was trying to kidnap them, ran me through. Can’t really blame him. I never had the chance to slay anyone, but…I knew I was going back to the docks as soon as the kids were out of the way. It…it took me a long while to grapple with that. I met the sailor, you know, back in there. Cleared the air between us. We looked for the kids, in the Halls and the tapestries. None of ‘em were there; they all lived! That…that felt pretty good, you know? I still did something, still had my little phrase in the Song.

I tried taking on a bear larger than I should have, and that was that. But the other hunters finished it off, and my furs weren’t too rent to still be useful. Sure, my once-betrothed’s been married to another man for two centuries now, but with the way we separated, he probably wouldn’t’ve had me back anyways. So no, I don’t regret it.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Thoughts on Oak after reading the stolen heir?

DISCLAIMER: not everyone is going to like this and probably even less will agree, so keep in mind that this is just my opinion because you asked for it and i'm willing to give it. please take whatever measures you need to protect yourself and not start discourse about my opinion on my post.

i spoke about my thoughts on Oak a little in this post, but i'll go into more depth here.

i felt as if many of Oak's characteristics were plucked from his family and stitched to him without rhyme or reason.

like. do i find the fact that Oak trips and accidentally murders 11 people fucking hilarious? absolutely. no question. do i think this skill is at all supported by his personality, present actions, or what we are given of his background? absolutely not.

i think it makes sense that he would be schooled on how to use a sword, given Jude and Madoc's skills. i don't think it makes sense that neither of them would give him the time in their day to teach him less aggressive forms of defence (i mean really, what else is Madoc doing in exile that he can't teach his only son basic defence and de-escalation tactics when he clearly did so for Jude whilst in the middle of planning a coup d'état?), nor does it make sense that Oak would not request this of them if they didn't offer.

the Death Mode Activated aspect of his character was sort of just dropped on our heads like an anvil in a Road Runner episode. it left me going ??¿?¿¿ 😵‍💫 ?¿¿??¿ and it felt more like a plot device, or a way to make him stand out from the likes of Cardan (king of witticisms and being down bad for scary women), than something that would actually suit him.

and i expect this might be intentional, but to me, Holly made Oak extremely unrelatable. he's "devastatingly beautiful" (to apparently everyone else– the hooves are not an issue for me, but personally i could never get down with the blond hair thing), charming in a smarmy sort of way, an alleged lovetalker (or whatever it's called, i don't remember), an immortal prince (and soon-to-be king) of Faerie, and he's really really good at killing people.

already, there's too much going on there for my tastes.

but then you add in the fact that he doesn't want the throne for no reason other than he doesn't like the politicking involved, and yet he physically inserts himself between danger and other royals? intentionally?? sorry but you're already balls deep in court politics there, my guy.

in the end, i found i didn't have much sympathy for Oak, because when Suren dropped the bomb and bridled his ass, i was cheering her on. it was the best damn thing she did in the whole entire book. i was delighted, even, that she now has the opportunity to humble him in a way he's never been humbled before.

i genuinely hope most of my feelings regarding him change in the next book. i am rooting for this trajectory for him, because it's not as if i want to cavort in his misery. i just do (for now).

–Em 🖤🗡️

thoughts on Suren

more theories and analysis

[frasier-crane-style]

So I watched this.

-The opening image is in space, with Anthony Hopkins narrating about the Mother World*, and a wormhole opens that cannot be described as anything other than a Space Pussy. Uhh, Cinema.

*(an unwieldy title for a group of bad guys, so eventually the script starts calling them "the Realm" instead, though no one bothered to go back and have them stop talking about "the domain of the Mother World" and such)

-They also try on referring to the villains as "The King's Gaze," the name of the ship they crew, and of course, it is great fun to see working actors talking very seriously about how much they fear the King's Gays.

-As in any Seven Samurai riff, the good guys are humble farmers, which in Zach Snyder Land means they are both pacifistic Luddite believers AND burly Vikings who love to fuck.

Ladies and gentlemen, a Quaker!

-They're also all white, making Sofia Boutella the only minority and also the violent outsider with a haunted past who keeps talking about how she doesn't belong and everything she touches dies and all that. It's a mite awkward. But she's also the only one who isn't DTF in the Fuck Farm, so who knows?

-The, uhh, Mother Worlders* show up and prove an eclectic blend of Peaky Binders haircuts, Soviet Russia fashion sense, working-class British accents, and, uhh, Día de Muertos parade?

Not since Cobra have so many random villain traits fallen under the same tent. You're left asking if it's political commentary or if Snyder just has something against the Angry Video Game Nerd.

-Snyder also tries to do a Good King/Evil Usurper bit with the Mother World, but makes it explicit that during the Good King's reign they were also an expansionist colonial empire just killing the shit out of things. As ever with da Snyd, it's unclear if this is meant to be subversive or just poorly thought out.

-I know there's no hiding that one is doing a Seven Samurai riff, but the MacGuffin is still... grain. The humble villagers aren't mining vibranium or anything, the evil Empire just really wants grain and these villagers are going to give it to them or else. You'd think a post-warp civilization wouldn't need to lean on subsistence farmers for snacks, but there you are.

-The appeal of this, if any, is to do R-rated Star Wars, but for some reason Netflix wanted a PG-13 version of the R-rated Star Wars, so we get something that's... maybe a little wilder than Andor? They redo the cantina confrontation between Obi-Wan and Cornelius Evazan, but here Evazan explicitly wants to rape 'Luke Skywalker' so, uhh, yay?

-Apparently the idea is to do a director's cut later on that'll be three or four hours; it's pretty obvious that stuff's been cut. The narrative spends a lot of time talking about how they're going to find a really cool guy fighting in gladiatorial combat at an arena. The heroes go to the arena, stand next to the arena, talk for a bit, and then leave. No gladiatorial combat is had.

Snyder, you're killing me, man. I thought the whole two-part business was so that we could have a whole movie to get to know these characters, but it basically goes Character Introduction > Standing Around In Crowd Scenes. Unless you're about to die, of course, in which case you get a sizable monologue to put in your acting reel before you leave.

-Oddly, they introduce quite a few characters who seem like they're going to be a part of the Magnificent Space Seven--guy trying to court Sofia Boutella, a turncoat Stormtrooper, a pacifistic robot--only to forget about them. I guess they'll show up in Part 2, but it seems unfulfilling to have this movie be a prolonged "Getting The Band Together" montage with some of the heroes not even getting to be in on the bonding. Which isn't much bonding to begin with, it's just Sofia Boutella sloooowly revealing her backstory and not even getting to the obvious punchline by the closing credits (you killed the princess, didn't ya? This universe might not have Force powers, but you don't need 'em to see that coming).

[enbyleighlines]

Leigh plays Tellius prt 12

I forgot how dramatic Geoffrey can be. But I guess with a best friend like Bastian, he would have to be a little dramatic.

I love how Ike continues to value his work as a mercenary above everything else. Of course, I don't think this high level of integrity is common amongst mercenary groups, but the Greil Mercs have always been different. Like how Greil himself would take work without pay, if it meant helping out someone in need. They fight for people, not for ideals such as honor or glory.

Now, I remember this map giving me so much trouble when I was a kid. This was the map that had me give up on not losing any units. I remember sacrificing Calill here, back in 2007, just so I could finally advance to the next chapter.

So when it came time to face this map again, 16 years later, I was feeling rather nervous.

Turns out I had no reason to be nervous, because I wiped the floor with all the enemies without issue. The boss gave me a scare at first, when I realized he was activating a skill in battle. I was afraid it was Resolve, but it turned out to be Parity, which was far less intimidating.

What a gorgeous scene! I love this moment between Elincia and her retainers. Their friendship is so great, and I'm glad that they got to be reunited.

This may be my shipper goggles blinding me again, but... was there something in that letter you don't want others seeing, Tibarn?

I understand where he's coming from, but it is jarring to be see a young boy say "Kill 'em all!"

Love this base conversation. Ike cannot be bothered to figure out what the hell Bastian is talking about half the time. And we learn that, though Ike's not a fan of desserts, he does drink tea! Unsweetened, I imagine, but still. Idk why, but I really love the idea of manly man Ike sitting down and having a cup of tea. Maybe he even used to have tea parties with Mist as a child. Too cute!

Here comes Largo. I do think this entire conversation is hilarious enough to justify Largo's existence as a playable unit, but otherwise I have never used him and probably never will. That being said, I love his character development in Radiant Dawn, where he goes from a fame-seeking beserker for hire to a humble restaurant owner and doting father.

I made Jill another custom javelin, and I named it Diablo because of how much it cost. Plus it's red, to match her armor!

Funniest NPC? Funniest NPC.

They don't go into it, but I can imagine that Soren must be really nervous at this moment. He's about to lead a discussion in front of an army that includes judgemental Begnion knights, beast laguz, and hawk laguz, including the king of the hawk laguz. That's a lot of pressure, especially for a character who doesn't feel comfortable talking to anyone that isn't Ike. He did a brilliant job, though! It probably helps that he has an A rank with Ike now, so his biggest insecurity has been put to rest.

Kudos, Soren! You're going to need that growing confidence when you're promoted to chief strategist of the Laguz Alliance.

I love how Ike is just so taken off guard here. This conversation also raises some questions for me. Namely, how long do pegasi live? Didn't Elincia say that this one belonged to her great-grandmother? Are they just like... immortal?

Time to seize Fort Pinell! This map is a little intimidating due to its sheer size, especially it doesn't have many choke points. However, I managed to beat this map on my first try. Luckily, they let you take a ridiculous amount of units, so I managed to just cross the field by lining up my defensive fighters in a long vertical wall to keep my squishies protected. Meanwhile, Ike, Soren, and Ranulf destroyed the entire upper right section of the map all by themselves.

The Black Knight fight is coming!! I'm so nervous ahhhhhh

It was also around this point that I realized that it would be nearly impossible to achieve one of my goals. I intended to get Ranulf to level 20 with as many capped stats as possible. Unfortunately, after doing the math, it looks like the only stats it's possible to cap are strength and defense, because you get him so late in the game, and his stat caps are so ridiculously high.

For example, you get him at level 9, which means he will only level up 11 times. In order to cap his strength, he has to level up strength 10 times, which is possible, but not without a lot of resetting. Meanwhile, in order to cap his defense, he has to level up his defense 13 times, which is only possible if you get him to level up defense Every Single Level, plus give him a Draco Shield for that +2 defense.

As much as I love Ranulf, I want to use that Draco Shield for someone else if I can. So in the end, I only capped his strength. And I was only able to do so by burning through the rest of my bexp. Ugh!

Was this worth it, or a massive waste of resources?

Probably the latter, but what's done is done.

Either way, Ike's 1v1 match with the Black Knight is imminent. I would like to save Nasir if I can, so I'm hoping that I get lucky with triggering Aether.

[a-traveling-void-human]

Leona to me, is much like me- just meaner and smarter.. So this, THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY!! like man.. I want to ruffle his hair- tell him that I love him- I'm so- I AM SO EFMEGEKGKKRT I cannot- HE USED TO NOT BE MY FAVORITE BUT SOMEHOW THIS LION CRAWLED AND HAD A TIGHT DEAD GRIP ON MY HEART- AND NOW I AM BUT A HUMBLE SLAVE THAT JUST WORSHIPS THE GROUND THAT HE WALK- okay I'm going too much, I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT!! I am becoming my inner Rook- Oh mon amour- Holy shit I'm becoming Rook-

In all honesty I really, REALLY love this interpretation of Leona!! Like- YES KING BETTER YOURSELF!!! Even if it's just a small step I will be SCREAMING AND BE A BELIEVER!! You- YOU LAZY MAJESTIC LION MAKES MY HEART SING! IT SPEW WORDS THAT I could never say out loud because I'm fucking stupid and cannot talk without twisting my tongue..

AGAIN- Leona- In this fanfic at least just- MAKES ME SO HAPPY?!?! I'm about to go to college, sleep deprived and then this Lion (and your writing) comes to my house, BARGE IN LESS and gave me DOPAMINE?!?! FOR FREE?!?!? IN THIS ECONOMI?!?!? LIKE BRO- qidkekrkr I AM AT LOST FOR WORDS!!- HE HE- HEHEEEEEEEEEE-

Man.. Why didn't I fall for this man sooner?.. He's so pretty.. (I was distracted with the others- I love them still though-) He's just like me fr fr/in denial..

Good god why is college keeping me away from TUMBLR?!?!? I NEED TO LOOK AT THIS FORSAKEN APP SO I CAN BE HAPPY!! LEONAAAAAAAA i want a plushie of him now..

How much is a plushie of him cost- hold on let me check

God- that's not what I wanted.. It's cheap yes but,

I like em like THESE!! (Ignore the balls)

OH FIND IT! THAT'S THE BITCH!!!!

Now-

I just- need the money.. Broke college student.. fuck.

Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

[jerzwriter]

10 and 12 of the soft asks. And yeah, do 'em for all 😌

Hey Ren! Thanks for the asks - and sure, ALL - thanks! lol 😊

From this list.

10. Your OC is surrounded by puppies/kittens/ducklings. What do they do?

Tobias/Casey: Casey is on the floor squealing with them. Lots of kisses, and she's loving life. If he were alone, Tobias would probably smile a little, think how cute, and move on. But if he's with Casey, he's having the time of his life watching Casey so happy that he'd end up squatting to pet a few as well, but not as enthusiastically as Casey. (God forbid this was with the three girls in tow! lol)

Jessica/Casey: They're both on the floor squealing and cuddling. They've probably forgotten what they were on the way to doing, they're going to be late, or they're not going to show.

Ethan/Kaycee: Kaycee would be excited and drag Ethan over to look. He'd think they were cute but probably wouldn't stop, but Kaycee isn't having that. She will pick out the one she "bonds" with most and try to convince Ethan that they need him. He'll get her out of there by bribing her with a cannoli.

Trystan/Carolina: Trystan is on the floor squealing. Carolina is smiling at him but kind of rolling her eyes, too. He tells her to join him. She tells him she's good (probably while petting one or two of them on the head.) In time, he'll break her, she'll join him, and they will spend some time cuddling them.

Eli/Zoe: Zoe would be over the moon excited. After all, things like this are not common for them. She will absolutely be bringing them all back to Olympus to keep them safe. Eli would be explaining how it's not practical, then her bestie, Troy, shows out of nowhere (I should honestly make these 3 a throuple, lol), and he is all for it. Zoe and Troy are putting kittens/puppies/baby ducks in every pocket. Eli reluctantly agrees. By the end of the night, Eli is the most attached.

That was so much fun! :)

12. What's a childhood memory they cherish most?

Casey: A bunch of random memories with her parents, skating with her father, baking cookies with her mom, doing arts & crafts together, and celebrating holidays. It was just the 3 of them, and they were very close. She would also say memories of playing with her friends in Philly, especially riding their bikes to the spray park by City Hall.

Tobias: Summers at his mother's parents house. His father's family was extremely wealthy and not very welcoming. The home he shared with his younger brother and his parents was also quite opulent, but his maternal grandparents had a very humble home that was full of warmth and love. He'd spend long summer days and nights there with many of his cousins, and those are some of the best memories of his life.

Jessica: Jessica had a strained relationship with her parents from her adolescence, but she has good memories with them and her siblings as a child. Her favorite? Going to Disneyland.

Ethan: Prior to his mother leaving, his family would spend a week at the beach each summer. Sometimes in Rhode Island, sometimes in Connecticut, and one year, it was even on the Cape in Massachusetts. He loved everything from jumping waves, making sandcastles and ice cream cones while watching the sunset with his parents, and bonfires on the beach.

Kaycee: Kaycee is technically the same childhood as Casey, but since I imagine them having different personalities, I think their favorite memories might vary a bit. Kaycee's would also be with her parents, but also with her grandparents who owned a farm in rural Pennsylvania. Kaycee loved the time spent there.

Trystan: Trystan's best memories was when he was getting into mischief. As the future king, his life was planned from day 1, and there wasn't much time built in for fun and just being a kid. Still, he managed to sneak away from nannies and tutors, and he tended to wreak havoc as he did. It was some of the only time he spent having fun with his siblings, and they're his best memories.

Carolina: Yankee games with her dad. More often than not, it was in front of their TV or listening on the radio, but sometimes they were in Yankee Stadium and her dad would go all out. Hot dogs, popcorn, big foam finger. His language was never child-friendly Carolina was brought up right, and they always had so much fun.

Eli: He treasures memories from before the outbreak to a degree, especially those with family they lost in the early days; however, his best memories were spent in the cabin with his parents and David as a young boy. The world was a frightening place, but when the four of them were home in front of the fire, his father playing his guitar, David working on a drawing, and Eli and his mother reading or chatting together, he felt like nothing in the world could harm him.

Zoe: She has almost no memories from before the outbreak, and her childhood in The Tower was far from ideal. Still, her memories of Ana (her sister) brushing her hair or the two of them playing games on their bunks before going to bed. There are also memories of playing and getting into mischief with Troy.

Thanks for asking again! These were great! :)

[sleepingfancies]

I'm pretty sure like 99% of the fandom calls them Edgeworth and Wright so seeing a post calling them by their first names just now was an experience

they are a single year older than me at the start of the series + i simply do not respect them enough for that /j

[piratekenway]

me: awww I feel bad for Leon he’s been through a lot

me:

me:

me: welcome to Derry. here are your worst fears and also your ex-boyfriend the comedian civilian has had contact with ancient unknowable monsters that want to kill him and his friends and YOU stone dead. good luck!!!