#ooc: could never see parents’ faces until very end with the two of them burning away into nothing

[thesparkingeyeofdawn]

[Suddenly, PINELY comes running into the room.]

Hi, friend who minstrel! Wanna do coloring with me? : D

(@euclittle-guy)

*He completely freezes, eye wide, and lifts up the gun to point it at Pinely*

[sixteenthshen]

post-finale stuff

Possible spoilers. Beware

Last night, I happened to check the scriptwriter's Weibo and saw that she had liked this fan's post. It's the only non-work related Weibo post that she had liked, so of course, I went to read it. 

The fact that this is the only fan post she's given her approval to must mean that it is on point and she agrees with the characterisation. I thought it's pretty good, so I've gone ahead to translate it here. I own 0 rights to this. I just thought it's a good perspective that may help others like me who struggled with the ending. 

I think I've mostly made my peace with it now, and to sum it up:

Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you with all that they are. 

A-Xu never once blamed Lao Wen for how things turned out because he understood that. And he’s clearly a better person than I am (lol).

Let me be clear about my stand - the real victim of how the drama unfolded in the last six episodes is WKX. When we feel our hearts ache for ZZS, it's because the show let down WKX (the character). If your heart is only hurting for WKX during episodes 33-34, you should try to ship WKX with someone else, ok? If you think the last six episodes were great and that WKX was very romantic (and only romantic), then I honestly don't know what to say. 

I ship wenzhou. That means I like both Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu. I want them to love each other, be good to each other and live happily ever after. And I want them not to be OOC. 

The rest behind the cut. Spoilers for the whole drama. 

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First, the source. Here is a link to that Weibo post, by 爱吐槽的栗小姐. I will delete this if requested by the OP - because this is really in a grey area imo. But I think the intention of a public post is for it to be shared? (especially something like this, which argues a point) 

Secondly, the poster does try to be fair in her post, but as the problem here is WKX's ruined characterisation, ZZS's character is analysed primarily concerning this issue only. There's quite a bit left to ZZS's character and backstory that isn't relevant. I believe that's why the post doesn't elaborate on it, or so I hope.

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Ever since WKX faked his death, I received three to four waves of fellow sister fans' mournful wails: "Lao Wen actually faked his death; does he have a heart?" "They were supposed to be of the same heart and treat each other with honesty. How did they regress?" "What happened to their innate soulmate-ness?" "Why does A-Xu always say to face things together, yet Lao Wen always keeps his plans from him?" "A-Xu loves Lao Wen, yet Lao Wen only loves himself"…….

Wait. What have you guys misunderstood about the meaning of soulmates? 

Soulmates are about values, but a person's behaviour… that's methodology FFS! 

(Do they no longer teach this in political affairs class in high school anymore?) 

Wenzhou, these soulmates, are incomparably compatible and mesh well in terms of values. According to the scriptwriter, the entire jianghu wants and tries to get the pieces of Glazed Armour, save the two of them. Not only do they not care for the peerless martial arts, immense power, nor the massive wealth that the Glazed Armour represents, they don't even care for the power they hold in their hands –Ghost Valley and the Window of Heaven. Both of them willing to give it up without a second thought. 

Before they met each other, they were so tired of (ZZS) and so angry at (WKX) this earthly world that they didn't even want to live on anymore. 

After they met each other, they gradually began to feel the warmth in this world again. How nice it would be if they could live in seclusion, hand in hand and just bask in the sun. 

In this world, where everyone else is fighting for power or wealth, they are true soulmates. To intelligent people like them, whether or not they're honest about their identities or secrets is merely a matter of formality. They had already determined their attraction to the other's soul early on and have never doubted it. 

There may be some here who would criticise loudly at this point, "Then can't you be more considerate for your soulmate (the actual phrased used is "spiritual companion")? A-Xu has said many times, let's face everything together, I'll bet that you will be honest with me. If you really love him, then why can't you care for his feelings?" 

----- You guys, you've never been married. 

If two souls meeting can naturally resolve all behavioural conflicts and disagreements, then the theory of "breaking in" * would not exist. 

Let us take a look at what kind of a person WKX and ZZS each are.

Wen Kexing, he's a lone wolf. 

After his parents' death and his entering the Ghost Valley, his smooth sailing life suddenly fell off a cliff. Ever since then, the only person he could rely on was himself. That deep-seated hatred is carved into his bones, yet he can't speak of it to anyone else. He isn't the same type of person as the rest of the ghosts in the Ghost Valley; he isn't the same type of person as A-Xiang, who he raised. If we talk about the world and everyone who lives in it, he doesn't have any fetters or feels any (positive) emotions. 

His supposed craziness is a form of indifference. He's indifferent to others' lives, nor his own, because he just doesn't care. (T/N: I think he does care for his own life, but only for revenge, after that, he's indifferent. Indifferent isn't suicidal. I don't know why some fans seem to be confusing the two. Although he didn't plan to, if he somehow manages to stay alive after getting his revenge, WKX will continue to live on, even if it's only to keep A-Xiang happy because he is indifferent.)

Growing up like this, being solitary became his style. He's used to doing everything alone, used to making his own decisions, used to digesting all his emotions himself. 

Every time he argues with A-Xu, he digests his emotions himself. The next day, he faces A-Xu with a smile again. 

This is how he loves, to take it upon himself to face danger, difficulty and pain alone. It's how he had supported A-Xiang all these years in the Ghost Valley and what he's used to. 

While Zhou Zishu, he's a lead horse (of a herd). ** 

Since a very young age, he's taught to take responsibility. He's used to bearing everything on his shoulders, be it the responsibility of his family or the responsibility for the Four Seasons Manor, even the responsibility for saving commoners from disasters. 

Unlike the lone wolf, the lead horse is ultimately a social animal. 

Regardless of his identity as the Manor Lord of the Four Seasons Manor or the Leader of the Window of Heaven, he's always the one to lead the herd and rarely fights alone. So, A-Xu not only has leadership ability but more than that, he also knows how to be tolerant and accepting of the differences of his team members. You can see the various ways he managed to influence Lao Wen along the road; he's firm when he needs to be and soft the other times. It's absolutely textbook in managing your lover workplace management. 

Zhou Zishu believes in communication whenever there's a problem, that they should be open and honest. So, teamwork is what he's used to. 

Does it mean that when a horse and lone wolf fall in love, that there won't be a breaking in period? 

Obviously not. 

I guess this is where some may say again, "isn't this part of a character's arc/development? The two of them quarrel time and time again. Did WKX not grow at all from it?" 

Of course, after meeting each other, they both grew and saved each other.

When he first left Window of Heaven, A-Xu was lonely with regret. Unlike the lone wolf who's used to doing everything alone, a lead horse without the last of his herd has no way to bear the bone-deep loneliness and merciless self-recrimination.

ZZS wandered around this world aimlessly until Lao Wen started pestering him, until he picked up Zhang Chengling, right up until he felt he hadn't singlehandedly destroyed the Four Seasons Manor. This lead horse finally regained a goal in life. He gained a partner and a lover. Lao Wen sticks to him, Chengling relies on him, and the abandoned Four Seasons Manor became like-new in his hands. He finally reconciles with himself. 

When he first came out of the valley, Lao Wen carried a rage strong enough to burn the world down. But when he met A-Xu, he also met the beauty of the world. 

When the Four Sages of Anji died, WKX understood how he caused innocent suffering. When Gao Chong walked to his death knowingly, he understood that although some may desire power, they could still be righteous and upstanding people. When he learned of everything Long Que sacrificed to protect his family***, he finally relaxed his guard. 

There were so many types of good people and things that he saw along this journey that he hadn't seen in the Ghost Valley. When A-Xu told him he was a good person as they basked in the sun, he genuinely wanted to return to the human (vs ghost) realm and be a good man. 

Along their journey, A-Xu made up for the morals and values that WKX lost in the Ghost Valley and showed him a new world outlook. He appeased Lao Wen's anger, tempered his extremism. The process wasn't easy, but not that difficult either, because, in the end, Lao Wen is kind at heart. 

But in the end, being a lone wolf is how he survived and succeeded in a place like the Ghost Valley. When A-Xu was so heavily injured and needed a lot of rest (for Wu Xi) to save his life, Lao Wen suddenly recalled his enemies and how such an excellent opportunity to take revenge just fell into his lap. Everything was in place, and all he needed to do was hide it from A-Xu; he could leave for a short while and have it settled quickly. Upon returning, he could then live happily ever after with his wife. To a crazy lone wolf, why would he not take a gamble? 

What he couldn't predict was the news would've been leaked (to A-Xu), and he didn't know that by doing so, he would've forever lost his love. 

Both of them were using their own methods to love the other person. Zhou Zishu is more forgiving and accepting because being forgiving is in his blood. While what WKX learned in his years in the Ghost Valley is -- love needs to be protected, like how he has A-Xiang, who he considers a sister, call himself master (to protect her). 

Only when faced with painful consequences can a person's deep-rooted habits and approach to things change. So I don't think faking his death ruined the characterisation of Wen Kexing, but I regret that the last two episodes did not have a scene to show us Lao Wen's heartbreak when he learns the truth. 

Until I know what it feels like to have lost you, I will only love you in my own way. 

T/N: 

*I can't think of the correct phrase for this as I don't read all that much about relationships >< please let me know if you know of it. Here, I'm referring to the process of wearing something new (like shoes) that will hurt at the start until it becomes soft and comfortable. 

** I did some side-reading, and omg, A-Xu is TOTALLY the lead mare. Although he's not the stallion and weak/dying for most of the show, he's the head of their little family, and he expects "to be obeyed", aka, I'm not going to learn how to cook. Call me for dinner. Kthxbye. 

From Rutgers' website: A herd of wild horses consists of one or two stallions, a group of mares, and their foals. The leader of the herd is usually an older mare (the "alpha mare"), even though one stallion owns the herd. She maintains her dominant role even though she may be physically weaker than the others. The older mare has had more experiences, more close encounters, and survived more threats than any other horse in the herd. The requirement of the lead horse is not strength or size; if this were so, then humans could never dominate a horse. Dominance is established not only through aggression but also through attitudes that let the other horses know she expects to be obeyed.

***I think this is important here because WKX wasn't crying for his loss. I think a big part of him was realising not everyone in the world was callous and turned their backs on his parents, that he could've gone his whole life without ever discovering what sacrifices some people have made. Good people suffer quietly and in silence. It's a big moment to realise he was wrong about many things that he had let hatred blind himself to the world. Because although he was sad about the Four Sages and somewhat shocked by Gao Chong's death, he hadn't truly faced up to his actions until now. 

(screenshot of the scriptwriter liking the above post) 

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To add: 

I'm not sure how many of you read my "opinion" posts, but I've been struggling to find a way to accept the last six episodes of Word of Honor.  I first tried looking at open forum postings, comments, and Tumblr posts. None of it worked because it was just arguing and emotions and no one made points good enough for me to accept things. 

So I gave up and went back to reading Chinese sites. I found many posts discussing the plot. Some I liked, some I didn't, but none satisfied my need for a reasonable explanation. I felt they had biases (both ways), or else it lacked logic. After a time, I realised that I should be looking for WKX-stans (or pro-WKX fans) because they would be more motivated to explain his side, but also because well-written posts by wenzhou-fans & ZZS-stans made me super sad.

I'm sorry, but those who keep trying to explain why the ending was good completely missed that episodes 32-34 are the real problem to those who don't like it and only focused on 36. I can understand if people don't think those episodes are a problem, but no one could provide an articulate and sensible reason. There are just too few well-reasoned plot-focused posts in English (sorry). I've seen too many examples of WKX-fans arguing with people who are upset about the ending, backed by nothing more than "look how much WKX suffers, woe is him. And how romantic is this????" *dies* 

Lastly, if you spot anything inaccurate, let me know & I will correct it.

[millllenniawrites]

top shelf (FO! Poe Dameron x f!OC)

part one of when the stars miss the sun

words: 1.7ish

warnings: dark!ooc!Poe Dameron (if you want specifics, dm me); smut (not in this chapter but in the rest of the series so 18+ please folks); prostitution; established relationship (sort of); slow burn (yes the two can coexist leave me alone); redemption arc; Pixar ending; murder; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: okay I never post oc content on here so this is scary. thank you to @kesskirata for giving me the confidence to post this. This was a writing exercise that @vampirewithbedsidemanners and I wrote while editing Horizons that ended up being really cool? So now y’all get to see it. THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR HORIZONS so if you’re keeping up with that series, don’t read this! like, major major spoilers! It’s literally all the same characters in an AU together! If you are somehow reading this after Horizons is fully posted in 2023 cause it’s probably gonna take that long, you’re good. The spoilers only go up until the end of that book.

__

Around the bar was a collection of high-top tables, packed with men clad in leather and partially obscured by the clouds of spice that hung around their heads. Redell moved like magic between the tables, shimmering and glowing even in the dark, eyes drawn to her against their will from men would never get their hands on her — men that couldn’t afford her even if they gave up their lives.

Redell waltzed down the dark hallway to the back rooms, her hips swaying with every step. Her heels clicked softly on the polished floors, their sound drowned out by the moans coming from the closed doors that lined the hall. Every step was one foot closer to victory or an early grave, not that anyone could tell she carried the knowledge on her shoulders.

She reached the end of the hall and opened up her room. The door slid shut behind her, leaving her in the dim lights that illuminated one tall, dark man sitting on the couch. He leaned forward, setting his glass on the short table in front of him. His strong jaw, a loose curl falling into his eyes, little details that almost let her overlook the uniform he wore.

She smiled, sweet but double-edged like the blade that ran down her back, as she sauntered over to him and straddled his lap.

“Long time no see, Admiral. Did y’miss me, honey?” She grinned, her voice low and tempting, playing the role she knew like the back of her hand .

“You know it’s hard not to.” He let his eyes move slowly over her. Not that he really needed to. He had her memorized.

Sliding his hands up her thighs, he smiled sweetly at her. “Is this room one of yours? Or do I have to behave?” He wasn’t new to this. Though not all of his meetings with the Resistance had been with Red, they were predictable. Either the room was clean and they could talk freely, or he’d fuck her for the cameras that were watching his every move and leave, slipping her the drive in his pocket and hoping that next time, they’d get to have a real conversation.

There weren’t many real conversations to spare in the First Order.

“It’s one of mine. I set it up just for you.” Redell’s fingertips trailed down his chest. Her nails were short, not like the long claws on some of the other girls, but he had no doubt that Red could tear his throat out without them. “Is that okay, baby?”

“Y-yeah that’s just fine.” He relaxed, the exterior that had been drilled into him since he joined up faltering in front of her. “It’s been too long, Red.”

“I know.” She murmured, kissing him deeply as she grinded on his lap. It was never like it was with everyone else. Her persona faltered, leaving her soft and vulnerable and sweet. There was something so real to the way she kissed him.

“Are you coming home with me this time?” She whispered, the same question she asked every time she had him in her arms, not ever wanting to let him go.

He shook his head. “But I’ve got you until tomorrow.” The Order looked the other way when their officers landed on-world. They’d barely notice the thousand credits transferring from their account directly into Resistance hands. “Come home with me.”

“Yes.” She answered immediately, kissing him again.

He shuddered under her, his hands tangling in her loose, curly hair. She brought out a softness in him that no else else ever got to see. Cradling her to his chest, he let his hands slide over her forbidden skin. He would never deserve this.

When she pulled away, leaving him gasping, she asked, “As your whore or something else?”

“As a friend?”

“Friend works. For now.” She murmured against his lips.

“Just for now? You looking for a promotion?” His hands hovered over her ass. The moment she asked for it he’d have her way with her, but before then he needed to make sure they looked like they were playing their parts if the door opened.

“I’d like to get fired, actually. So I get a choice.” She ran her fingers through his hair, tilting his head back and gazing softly at him. He let her manhandle him, even as she trailed a finger down his neck. “Is there anything I should pass on before you take me home? Just in case?”

His head spun with how quickly she could go between work and ruining him. “Just the stuff at the house.”

“Lead the way then, baby.” She said softly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He carried her out the back of the bar, so no one stopped them. Reached his shuttle, he unlocked it before carrying her up the boarding ramp.

He settled into his seat, Red sitting in his lap with her legs draped over one arm of the chair.. “You comfortable there, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Is this your shuttle or do I have to behave?” She asked quietly, already kissing his neck.

“It’s mine.” He let out a soft moan as her lips brushed the sweet spot under his jaw, following it with a chuckle. “Don’t make us crash.”

“I won’t.” She kissed his lips briefly before nestling into his lap. “You were gone a while. Do anything interesting while you were out?” She asked, playing with his hair.

“We had a couple of yours end up in one of my interrogation centres. That was a headache to fix. Otherwise, not really. Just the usually dark and gloomy.” His face split into a wry grin.

“You know, it’s much nicer back with us. You’re welcome to come with me. Defect. I’ve got space in my bed for you.” She said suggestively, like it wasn’t something she offered most times he saw her.

“As tempting as that is, sweetheart, your leadership is never gonna accept an ex-Admiral from the Order. If I defect, I’ll be spending the rest of the war in one of your prisons.” He toyed with the ends of her curls as he piloted the shuttle with one hand. “And you’d lose your informant. Isn’t it better for you to have a man on the inside?”

“Would my man on the inside consider making this arrangement a little more permanent then?”

His eyebrows knit together. “You’re the only one getting my intel.” She had been for a while.

“I’m not talking about the intel. I’m talking about access. You can’t come to us. Maybe I can stay with you.”

His eyebrows shot up. It sometimes took him a minute to remember that she wasn’t just a pretty face. “Yes. Yeah. Let’s do that. Assuming you’re okay with coming on the Finalizer with me in four weeks.”

“Sounds like fun.” She grinned. “You’re my only client at Vinny’s. I don’t have to go anywhere but your bed for the foreseeable future.” Her hands slid down his chest, tucking under his shirt. “I’ll work on getting you a pardon. To keep you out of prison.”

“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.” He got himself into the mess. He was just doing as much good as he could before it all caught up to him and he ended up in a First Order prison or open space, depending on how his boss was feeling.

“I’m very talented at multitasking,” she said quietly. “You never told me why you joined the Order.”

He grumbled, “It sounded like a good idea at the time.”

She’d never asked before. If he was going to tell anyone, it might as well have been her. Red was the only one it was even remotely safe to be open with, and he knew he was going to die before he had the chance to find someone else he could trust as much as he’d come to trust her.

“The government was a mess. I was young. I wanted to prove that I could be a rebel like my parents.” He traced patterns on her thigh to ground himself. “By the time I realized that it was a knock-off Empire, I was in too deep.”

She cupped his face, her persona dropping. She wasn’t a prostitute anymore but a true rebel, flames burning in her blue eyes. “We’ve all got skeletons in our closets, Poe. It’s never too late.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t get to Admiral by doing nothing.” A Destroyer would be his coffin. Deep space, his grave. There was no running from his past.

Her eyes turned black. “You don’t get head an intel team just by floating by either. Doesn’t make me any less of a rebel.”

He tilted her chin up and kissed her, softer with her then he should have been.

[bisexualcrowley]

A Drinking Game

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Turns out when the devil drinks, he gets horny

Content/warnings: Smut/NSFW, drinking, one night stands, slightly ooc lucifer?

Word Count: 2,624

You scanned the crowded bar, mindlessly spinning a shot glass on the tip of your finger as your eyes wandered from person to person. It was late, just past 12:30 on a Friday, so unsurprisingly the joint was packed.

Bored eyes flicked between the drunken patrons, pouring the occasional drink for those who stepped up to the bar, but for the most part you were left alone, the shadowy figures favoring dancing over shots tonight, and you let out a sigh, glass spinning smoothly in circles on your hand.

You were about to turn to your boss to ask for an early off tonight when someone caught your eye. He was tall, with mussed hair and an open button down slung over a t shirt and you could see his eyes glinting in the reddish lights of the room. You couldn’t tell exactly what it was about you that had drawn your attention, but you could tell whatever it was had worked in both directions as his steely gaze locked on you, and you felt a shiver run down your back as he released his hold on the door you only just now realized he had been holding open as he made his way through the crowd towards you.

You cocked your head in curiosity as he approached, the glass on your finger having long since stopped spinning, and you stood frozen as the man walked up to the counter and slid into the seat directly in front of you.

As he moved under the dull light shining over the counter his features came into more detail, messy dark blond hair falling softly in front of stunningly blue eyes. He was taller than he appeared from afar, and you gulped as he slid a few dollars across the counter to you, piercing eyes locking with yours as he moved.

“I’ll take 2 shots of your best tequila, sweetheart”

His voice was rougher than you had expected, with the slightest touch of an accent you couldn’t quite place and it went straight between your legs, your thighs involuntarily clenching at the sudden rush of arousal. Hoping to retain a professional appearance, you brushed aside the feeling, took the cash and turned to the shelves stocked with various bottles of alcohol, and returned with two shots of the amber liquid, setting them in front of him with a quiet click.

Feeling bold, or at least bolder than usual, you smirked, resting your forearms on the smooth surface and leaning towards the stranger, your cleavage now in perfect view of the man. “Now then, what’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this?” You purred, your usually mild southern drawl thickening and blending with the pounding bass of the music around you.

The man let out a good natured laugh before resting his chin in his hand, raising a sly eyebrow at you.  “I do believe that’s my line, miss”

You chuckled, returning to spinning the shot glass on your finger. “You got me there. Name’s Y/n, pleased to meet you”

“Lucifer, and right back at you. I like the accent, you’re from where, Texas?” He smiled with the flicker of a smirk behind those ocean blue eyes which kept flicking downwards, watching the swirling motion of the cup on your fingertip.

“Lucifer, like, Satan type Lucifer? Damn, you must’ve had interesting parents. I like it though, very unique, it suits you”

You chuckled at the snort of laughter he responded with, cocking your head slightly as you continued. “And Louisiana, actually. Moved out here for school, couldn’t find a reason to leave. How about you, Lucifer, what’s your story”

He swallowed heavily as his name rolled off your tongue, drawing it out in a seductive hum and finishing with a grin.

He laughed again and threw a shot back, slamming the glass on the table and sliding the other towards you. “Believe me baby, that would just kill the mood. All that matters right now? You, me, and this tequila, darlin’, so why don’t you drink to that.”

Lucifer winked and you giggled, putting aside the glass you were fiddling with and shrugging off your sweater, exposing your tight, dark purple tank top that hugged your curves deliciously and showed off just the right amount of skin. You took the shot graciously, letting the burn of the alcohol fuel your courage, and you pulled the bottle down and re-filled your drinks.

“I’ll drink with you, if, we can play a little drinking game”

The man raised his eyebrow again, smirk ghosting against his lips, reaching for a glass. “What’ve you got in mind?”

“How’s about you tell me what you like in bed, and if I’m into it, I take a shot, then I do the same for you.” You swirled the amber liquid around, blinking perfectly lined eyes at Lucifer, who responded with a wicked smile and twitch of his head in a nod of agreement.

“I’ll start then… Dirty talk, that’s a big one for me” You said quietly, your previous burst of confidence not diminishing despite your drop in tone. His eyes fell to your chest, not so secretly eying your barely covered breasts before downing his drink, pushing the glass forward for a refill. “Rough sex?”

You let out a hum of approval before taking the shot, Lucifer looking rather pleased with your answer.

“Hair pulling”

He took a shot

“Biting”

You took a shot

The alcohol beginning to cloud your mind, you smirked and tugged your top down more, giving the man in front of you a perfect view of your lacy bra, which covered just enough that he didn’t get the full show, but left little to the imagination, and Lucifer let out a quiet groan, entranced by the sight.

“Oral, giving and receiving” You bit your lip, watching him down another shot, and feeling somehow even bolder, you leaned over the counter to brush a strand of hair away from his face, fingers trailing down his lower lip before returning to the counter.

Lucifer growled, pushing aside the discarded cups and lurching forward, face coming to rest millimeters from yours. His lips moved beside your ear, nipping softly. “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have my head between your legs”

Your eyes widened, thighs rubbing together yet again as you felt your arousal threaten to drip down your legs, and a breathy moan escaped your lips.

“Wanna get out of here? My shift ends in five minutes, they won’t miss me if I leave now.” You rasped out, voice rough with rapidly strengthening desire. Lucifer nodded, biting at the crest of your ear again before sliding out of his seat, dropping a few bills on the counter. You grabbed your sweater, not bothering to put it on before sliding over the counter, finding yourself in Lucifer’s arms on the other side.

He set you down on the ground gently, hands lingering on your hips and eyes glued to your cleavage yet again as you made your way to the bar’s exit. You spun around to face Lucifer as the door shut behind you, grabbing him by the shirt collar and pulling him into a steamy kiss which he returned more than enthusiastically, hands coming down to grip your ass.

He tasted like coffee and tequila, it was intoxicating and you found yourself lost in the kiss, unable to stop the whine from escaping your lips as he pulled away for a breath, his mouth coming down to suck a hickey into your exposed skin as you gasped for air.

“My place is down the street, why don’t we take this party there, hmm?” He panted against your shoulder, you giving a quick nod of approval and grabbing his hand, letting him pull you along

The second the door to Lucifer’s apartment slammed shut his hands were on you once again, shoving you against the door and crashing his lips against yours. His lips moved against yours desperately, tongue brushing against your lip and fighting for dominance against yours.

Your hands made their way from his hair to his shoulders to his chest, never leaving his body as you moved against each other, moaning loudly as his leg found it’s way between yours, rutting against your hip as you ground your core down on his thigh.

Lucifer pulled away suddenly, chest heaving, eyes blown wide with lust and a sizable bulge in his jeans. You groaned in frustration, grabbing at his shirt again only to be met with a rough tug on your hair, forcing you backwards. A whine was torn from your lips as you watched Lucifer yank his shirt over his head and throw it to the side, pressing his body up against yours once again.

“Now gorgeous, I remember saying something about having my head between your legs, so that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Be a good girl for me and strip, and I promise I’ll have you cumming so hard you’ll be seeing stars for a week.” He growled, sucking another hickey into your neck and chuckling at the choked moan you breathed out in response.

Immediately you threw off your shirt, smirking when Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat as you undid your bra, breasts falling loose. Your repeated your actions with your shorts and panties, thighs slick with your arousal as you stood naked in front of Lucifer.

He growled again, eyes flashing as he grabbed you by the hips and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you over to the bedroom before dumping you on his bed. You lay there panting as he kicked off his jeans, pausing to palm at the bulge in his boxers and smile wickedly at the sight below. You were about to pull him down onto you when he made the move himself, climbing onto the bed and pressing a deep kiss to your lips before maneuvering himself down between your legs

A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his breath against your core, gasping when he licked a slow stripe up your thigh, repeating the motion until you were a panting, trembling mess beneath him.

“Enough teasing, sweetheart?” Lucifer murmured against your hip, moving upwards to trail sloppy kisses along the divot between your dripping cunt and leg, earning a string of breathless expletives in response. “I’ll take that as a yes, then”

And with that, he dove in, tongue lapping at your juices while two of his long, slim fingers made their way inside you, curling to brush your g-spot and thrusting to match the speed of his mouth.

A wrecked moan was drawn from your throat, thrusting your hips up to meet his actions, whimpering and mewling with each flick of his tongue against your clit and rub of his fingers against your inner walls. You could feel your climax approaching shockingly fast, and apparently Lucifer could feel it too, his actions quickening, nipping lightly at your clit and soothing it with a pass with his tongue yet again, pushing you over the edge.

You screamed as your orgasm hit you, thrashing out as your back arched up off the bed, fluids squirting from your core as the pleasure washed over you, vision turning to white.

You lay there panting, waiting for your vision to clear. When you finally came down from your high, you found Lucifer kneeling between your face, one hand at his mouth, sucking your juices off his fingers, and the other palming desperately at his leaking cock over his boxers.

He chuckled when he noticed you staring, moving up to kiss you once again. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned against his mouth, feeling him smile into the kiss at the sound.

Your lips never separating from each other, your fingers made their way to the edge of his boxers, tucking under the elastic and easing them down his hips, smirking as his length sprung free, rubbing against your hip and smearing a trail of precum along your heated skin.

Lucifer was once again the first to pull away from the kiss, the both of you panting and pupils blown wide with arousal. Your eyes were fixated on him, mesmerized by the view. His mouth was hanging open slightly, hair matted with sweat to his face, light stubble across his cheeks and lips swollen from making out like horny teenagers. You tried not to stare, but in this moment it was the hottest thing you had ever seen, and unconsciously your hips bucked upwards.

He gave you an almost sheepish grin, rolling off of you to kick his underwear off the rest of the way and to grab a condom from a drawer in his bedside table, returning to your side and tearing open the foil packet.

You pressed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth, taking the condom from his hands and rolling it down his impressive length, biting your lip at the breathy moan he let out but tilting your head in confusion when he paused your hand, gently removing it from the base of his cock. Moving the hand to rest on his thigh, you raised an eyebrow in silent questioning, pushing yourself upright to meet Lucifer’s gaze properly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He brushed a hand softly across your jaw as he spoke and you felt your heart swell at the question, appreciative of how even in his intoxicated and aroused state, the man still took the time to make sure he still had your consent.

A smile spread across your face and you nodded, whispering your confirmation before you threw your leg over his lap, straddling him and sinking down on his cock in one swift motion.

Lucifer’s eyes flew wide open, groaning your name as your walls clenched around him and he grabbed you by the hips, throwing the two of you into a roll that left him on top of you, cock still buried inside you.

He was still for a moment, admiring you squirming beneath him before letting go of his control, letting an almost feral noise escape his lips as he pulled out and slammed himself back in, repeating the motion harder and faster each time until he found a rhythm you were both happy with.

You were a moaning mess beneath him, legs slung around his hips and nails scratching patterns down his muscular back, crying out with each thrust. You screamed as he shifted again, hitting your g-spot straight on, feeling your second orgasm building with each thrust.

“L-L-Lucifer I don- don’t think I’m go- gonna last much lo-longer” You stammered, hips flying up to grind your clit against the base of his cock, causing him to grunt and speed up again, rhythm faltering as his thrusts became more and more erratic. You reached your peak seconds before Lucifer, moaning out a string of expletives as you clenched down around his cock, squirting for the second time that night, soaking your bodies.

The gush of fluids was enough to push Lucifer over the edge and he came with a guttural moan, fucking you through his orgasm to the point of over-stimulation before pulling out with a low groan, tossing the condom into a garbage can and collapsing on the bed next to you.

He laid there panting, still coming down from the blissful feeling, letting out a breathy chuckle when you rolled over and rested your head on his chest, sleeping peacefully within minutes. Lucifer followed suit, wrapping an arm around your body and vaguely thinking that he hoped you’d still be there when he awoke, and drifted off to sleep

[sardinesandhumbugs]

i would be very interested in learning more about horwood (derogatory) if you're interested in explaining?

okay so

so William Horwood was is (apparently he’s still alive and kicking in his 70s) a writer who wrote perhaps the best-known sequel to The Wind in the Willows in 1993: The Willows in Winter. (He wrote three more following after it: Toad Triumphant, The Willows and Beyond, and The Willows at Christmas, but the first one is the one most will be familiar with due to the 1996 movie.)

(He wasn’t the first person to write a sequel to WitW; that honour goes to Dixon Scott in 1983 with A Fresh Wind in the Willows although that had some funky copyright issues) 

The Willows in Winter does its best to mimic the style of the original book, and to some extent it does succeed. It is, however, still essentially published fanfiction and, as such, it has some wonderful ‘misses’ that I will mock this 27-yo story for. (I admittedly kinda love the movie it was adapted into, so this is all done with the same kind of ribbing my friends lovingly bestow upon me after I walk into glass walls or eat notably dodgy apples like some modern-day snow white)

These misses include but are not limited to:

awkward character decisions 

These Characters Are Aggressively Not Gay 

But Sometimes It Will Read Very Gay Anyway 

hilarious character names

I Will (Almost) Kill Mole Multiple Times

Sometimes Twice In The Same Book

you will read “The Water Rat” more than you ever did in witw

Rat has river-speaking abilities now  

Badger has one (1) response to “someone has vanished” and it’s to organise a funeral

Rat sees heaven for, like, a moment

Toad nearly gets hanged 

Anyway, because I have A Lot of thoughts about the book, here’s a spoiler-inclusive breakdown of the plot for your enjoyment below the cut: 

The story starts with Mole’s nephew who we will call “Nephew” for the sole fact that Horwood never deigns to give him any other name. (I have been reliably informed that the next story has Badger’s grandson creatively named... Grandson, just in case anyone thought this might be a one-off.)  

It has been... an indistinguishable number of years since the original book, and Horwood decided the natural character development for the polite and loyal Mole is for him to have become a grumpy old soul who has been passing his recently orphaned Nephew around his friends because he doesn’t like company. 

The biggest issue Mole has is that he erroneously told Nephew that he could stay “as long as [he] wants” and, well, you have to see this for yourself: 

...for ‘as long as you want’ soon feels like a life sentence to a bachelor like Mole, unused to sharing his home with another for more than an evening at a time. 

(Mole is a Bachelor, okay? He’s definitely not accustomed to living whole seasons with Ratty, to the point that he nearly forgets what his own home looks like.)

So Mole is beginning to think that perhaps Nephew isn’t The Worst Thing Ever when Portly turns up in the middle of a horrible snow storm and, in attempting to warm him up, Nephew gives him too much alcohol and promptly sends Portly off to sleep, but not before he imparts that he came running all this way because Rat said that he needed Mole. 

So Mole heads out into the terrible snow storm, gets to the River, and carves his will into a tree because this is Horwood’s fanfic and he can write angst if he wants to, dammit! And, naturally, everything goes wrong. a la Don’t Carry It All style.

You may be saying, oh plot! This sounds dramatic! I regret to inform you that Rat was not, in fact, in danger, but was actually just snowed in with Otter and drunkenly remarked that it’d be so much jollier if Mole joined them (no homo), and then carried getting so drunk that neither of them realised that Portly was gone until three days later. 

[A helpful comic illustrating Otter’s parental abilities]

(This is, of course, the same Portly for whom Otter spent days trying to find in The Piper At the Gates of Dawn chapter of the original book. Turns out his  parental approach has drastically changed since then.)  

After some searching, they find Mole’s will carved into the tree and deduce that Mole attempted to cross the frozen river and failed and they decide to leave off searching until it’s light again. In the meantime, we get this lovely passage that I actually adore for how tender it is: 

The Water Rat knew a night of shadows and half-dreams, memories of Mole in the hot afternoon sun of summer, reflecting upon life. Such remembrances tormented the poor Rat till dawn came once more and he stared bleakly out of the window, tears trickling down his face, listening to the quiet bustle of the other three round the corner in the kitchen. 

During all of this, Toad has discovered a love of flying machines (biplanes, to you and me) and the Riverbankers claim use of his newest one to search for Mole. Long story short, Toad tricks his way into being the pilot, flies so badly that he unseats Rat (who manages to deploy his parachute in time, but has a near-death experience beforehand) and then crashes the plane into a greenhouse in town. 

The other Riverbankers find Rat, who has survived his fall (even if he has seen Beyond the Veil) and he’s currently Talking to the River (Horwood decided to take the “water” part of Rat’s name as a personality trait) and Rat assures the Riverbankers that Mole isn’t dead because the River Said So.

Badger is like, cool, cool, okay he’s suffered a mental break from losing Mole, and possibly Toad too, so we’re going to do the sensible thing and host a funeral for Mole. (Have I mentioned how much they are definitely straight?) 

Anyway, in a move that would make any soap opera green with envy, Mole manages to find his way back to the Riverbank just in time to crash his own funeral, scaring everyone witless until they realise their mistake. (I did say this was published fanfiction.) Everyone is happy, Mole is not dead, and life goes merrily on. 

Meanwhile, Toad has had a few misadventures, that include: 

crashing into a greenhouse that belongs to the judge who sentenced him in the original book

somehow no one realises he’s Toad, so he stays in bed as the heroic pilot who risked life and limb to stop his plane from crashing into the town

escaping disguised as a chimney sweep

turning up to a wedding that the judge was attending and getting arrested

being accused of murdering the missing chimney sweep 

being sentenced to be hanged for murdering the missing chimney sweep

being acquitted from the crime when it turns out the chimney sweep is still alive

(Yes, Horwood really went, hey I should raise the stakes from the original, and then put Toad on trial for murder under threat of hanging.) 

(If what I’ve heard about the later books, Horwood decided that what the Extended WitW Universe was missing was an overarching antagonist, which he rectifies by having the judge return several times.)

Toad is set on his way and he slowly returns back to the Riverbank, mostly because he’s under the impression that not only is Mole dead, but that he probably killed Rat too (this is a Fun Kid’s Book) whereupon he eventually discovers that, uncared for, Toad Hall has fallen into flooded ruin. He mopes and drinks and lights candles before toddling off to Badger’s home, where Badger is having a thoroughly miserable party that has pretty much turned into a Mourning Toad party and they all celebrate Toad’s return. There’s even a sweet moment:

Toad, very drunk and sad: What am I, Badger? Badger: You are home, Toad.

And then in the last two minutes of the book, Toad Hall burns to the ground because Horwood couldn’t resist a last-minute sprinkling of drama into the story.

(Also, also, the last few lines of the book seems to imply that the name of “The Mole” is something that’s inherited like the title of Caesar was, and Nephew will one day be The Mole and I can’t get over that.)

The End. 

Anyway, Horwood is evidence that fanfic writers have always gone, “I can add angst to this,” and that you really shouldn’t feel so bad about that edgy OOC fanfic you wrote when you were 13 because it turns out some people go and get theirs published.

And that’s why some of us have “Horwood (Derogatory)” as a meme. 

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 3: i am actively trying to throw away my shot but it isn’t fucking working

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Talks of anxiety/medication, Throwing up (Not detailed)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter has a lot of anxiety and anxiety talk, so if you’re sensitive to that please be mindful!! Also lots of Logan and Virgil being friends, which I enjoyed writing! I also apologize for the delay, I ended up hating chapters 4-6 after I wrote them and have just rewritten them! Much more to come dw! 

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP

Word Count: 2994

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2

By almost all accounts, the next week got easier each day that passed. As Logan got acclimated to the chaos and worked on his notebook, things got much better. Part of this could be attributed to his time spent in the tech booth with Virgil. 

Their goal for the week was to pick their audition song and perfect it so that by Friday they could perform and Thomas could quickly and efficiently cast the show. Their performance was in November, which was absolutely way too soon for Logan but Janus had assured him that it was more than enough time to put on an adequate performance. He took Virgil’s lifeline offer surprisingly often. Sitting in the booth and quietly practicing his audition worked out some of the stress in him. Sometimes Virgil would look up from his switch and make a comment on his performance or suggest something is changed, but aside from that, they were quietly comfortable with each other’s presence amongst all of the chaos that was the rest of the theatre. 

When he left the booth, he was nearly swarmed by the others. It became routine. In the morning, he would spend time with Virgil, Patton, and their friend Emile. Oftentimes conversation was light, and the commentary was helpful and constructive. At lunch, he and Virgil would move to the tech booth and eat there together to get some peace and quiet in before inevitably being bombarded in the afternoon. After lunch, someone (usually Remus) would make their way up to the tech booth and drag them out to the boy’s dressing room. Virgil would sit in the corner and occasionally mess with one of the twins, or hiss at Janus in greeting, and Logan would be worked to the bone. He had decided to audition with Hamilton’s rap from My Shot; Doing the first and second halves, but cutting out the middle. Janus was extremely dedicated to being sure Logan’s performance would make an impression. Logan wanted the opposite, but he couldn’t argue with Janus’ dedication to making the entire show perfect. 

Though, Roman’s attitude didn’t really change that much. For four days, he stayed at a zero. By Friday morning, he actually enjoyed his routine in part. Aside from Roman. Actually, Logan thinks if Roman was completely removed from the situation he may actually be happy with his current predicament. All this has just been practice though. When Friday afternoon rolls around and his audition is getting closer and closer, he tries to focus on the other performers. When it’s Roman’s turn, he pays special attention. Now he sees why Roman has an ego about these things. His audition was very good, and he felt natural on the stage. He would make a wonderful Hamilton, and he really looked the part. Despite him and Remus being technically identical, he looked worlds different. His clothes were ironed perfectly, and he had obviously dressed a bit historically today. His wavy hair was combed to let his face shine through in the stage light, and he was...dear lord, was he wearing eyeliner? Logan shook it from his mind and listened to him sing. Just like the days he’d seen him practice, he was very good. Obviously star material. If he didn’t get Hamilton, Logan would eat a page from his notebook. Figuratively, of course. That would be bad for his digestive system. 

On either side of him are Patton and Virgil. He’s not really focusing on auditions until Roman’s, and after he phases back into his overthinking. He’s not nervous, he would never be nervous. Logically, there is no reason for him to be nervous. He’s just being vigilant. That’s it.

Virgil nudges him, “I can practically hear your thinking. You okay?”

“Oh-Uhm-Yes,” Logan says quietly, staring up at the performer on stage, “I’ll be fine.”

Virgil digs into his pocket and pulls out a little cube, he hands it to Logan with a kind expression, “See if that helps your anxiety.”

“I’m not anxious, there’s no reason for me to be anxious.” Logan scoffs, taking the little cube and running his thumb over the side with a small silver ball. The movement does make him feel a little better. 

Virgil smirks, and flicks his shoulder, “You’re smarter than that, Logan. C’mon.”

He’s right, and Logan knows it. Anxious feelings can be totally irrational and are oftentimes a result of doing something new or stressful. 

If he bombed this, it could be very stressful indeed. Janus would certainly not be happy after he put all that work into helping him. Roman would probably laugh, or make some comment about how he knew this would happen. Why did he even care anyway? He didn’t. He was simply falling victim to a very stupid bout of anxiety. When his name is called, he hands Virgil back his cube and makes his way up to the stage. He takes a deep breath, says he is auditioning for no one in particular, and then is cued in. He performs how he was coached, completely ignoring his anxiety and doing the best he possibly could. When he’s finished, Thomas looks very pleased as the crowd claps. Someone even wolf whistles and Logan is fairly certain it’s Remus. He sits quietly for the rest of the auditions, Virgil passes him back the cube. 

The cast list won’t be out until Monday, so all the kids have the weekend to spend enjoying their summer. Well, if they don’t enjoy theatre. Logan managed to be very productive on his days off. His chart was filled and he indulged in sleeping in on Saturday. For two days he was not checkmated by social interaction at all, and it was a paradise. He managed to burn through four books from the local library, and was working his way through the fifth when his phone went off. He picked it up, not expecting a text from Virgil. 

‘hey. logan i just saw the cast list and...god i really hope you dont get straight-up murdered.’

This had confused him heavily, and then he realized what Virgil might mean and he felt anxiety bubble up into his stomach. 

‘How did you see the cast list? Isn’t that classified until tomorrow?’

‘joan and i are tight, they let me see it.’

That makes sense, Virgil seemed close to Joan and Thomas. Closer than he was, at least.

‘Are you willing to tell me who I am playing?’

‘you have to act shocked tomorrow if i do.’

He started to panic, and he looked up at the sky as if pleading with God to make this a dream or a prank. 

‘Okay? Please tell me I didn’t get Hamilton.’

‘...sorry…’

His phone goes off a number of times after this, but he had to put it down. The lead? He was playing Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, the leading man of the hit Broadway musical Hamilton?

The bubble of anxiety in his chest welled up and made him so nauseous that he couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up. 

He didn’t expect this, he didn’t even want this. He had been so anxious at the audition, and now he was the lead? What was he going to do? He couldn’t perform half as well as Roman! Why did Thomas choose him in the first place!? The idea of standing on that stage performing with an ensemble made him queasy, but Alexander Hamilton had solos. Songs where he stood alone and faced a crowd of eyes just pouring into him, staring at him. Staring into his soul and seeing that he was just a fake. A hack. The lights would be so bright that he would be able to see into the audience and make out faces. Then, after the audience decided they hated him, he would disappoint Thomas who had picked him to be the lead despite first hearing the songs on Monday. He would be hated by the other performers, a wildly untalented newcomer coming in and taking Roman’s spot as lead-And oh god, how would Roman feel? Virgil was right, Roman was going to kill him. It would be righteous too, Roman deserved it. He’d stolen away the lead role in a show he was passionate about. Why couldn’t the production have been something like Shakespeare? Or, even better, there should have been no production at all!

He manages to stumble his way to his bathroom before he throws up, and he hopes his mother didn’t hear him. His hands are still shaky as he cleans himself up and tries not to think about the play. He still feels nauseous and panicked. He spends thirty minutes calming himself down. His heart rate and breathing had risen substantially, and when he had finally calmed he realized he had even been crying. Managing to pick up his phone again, he looked at Virgil’s messages.

‘logan?’

Then a minute later, ‘logan are you okay?’

A few minutes later, ‘shit are you panicking?’ 

And a minute ago ‘text me back asap’ 

It’s nice to know it was concerning behaviour to Virgil as well. As he thought about his strange spiral of thoughts and forced himself not to think about them all at once, he realized what had just happened. What would continue to happen. 

‘I am okay. I believe I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.’

‘youve had one before?’ Ah, right. He hadn’t discussed this with Virgil. He hadn’t discussed a lot of his past with Virgil. 

‘When I was in middle school I had joined debate team, but I realized that public speaking gave me terrible anxiety. I used to take medication to help, as the panic attacks happened semi-regularly. Eventually, I stopped doing debate, and I stopped taking the medication as I thought that would be the end of it. I suppose that was reckless thinking, as it may just be a form of performance anxiety overall.’

‘why then, pray tell, are you fucking doing theatre?’ Logan smiles a little at that, he wondered too.

‘I thought it would go away.’ Logan can almost see Virgil rolling his eyes at the comment, ‘I will speak to my mother and get more medication.’

Then he thinks of Virgil's behaviour and asks, ‘Also, and I apologize if I am overstepping, do you not have an anxiety disorder?’

‘yeah ive got regular anxiety and social anxiety. its a bunch of bullshit. why do you think im on tech?’ He feels a little bad for Virgil now, anxiety disorders are not very pleasant. He only has bouts of anxiety situationally, he can’t imagine it being near-constant. 

‘I assumed it was because you enjoyed it. I will go and speak with my mother immediately.’

‘was being sarcastic L. anyway, tell me how it goes.’ Logan stops when he reads this. Tell him how it goes? That is an invitation to message him regularly, right? It sounds like it, or at least to tell him about a problem that has been irking him. That...that is a thing meant for friends right?

‘Are you sure? I was under the impression that our speaking was reserved for the theatre.’

‘i mean, it can be. but we can be out-of-theatre friends too. if you want. no pressure.’

This...this was a very welcome surprise. He supposed that despite his rebound into performance anxiety, making one of his first friends in a very long time could prove enjoyable. Scheduling conflicts aside. 

‘I would enjoy that. I will update you.’

When he asks his mother about going back on his anxiety medication, she immediately jumps into a very motherly mode. She pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair, asking if anything is wrong, if he’s okay, the whole nine yards. As much as any teenager would hate to admit it, he loved his mother very dearly. This affection was...a lot, yes, but he could endure it for her. She was only showing her care. It was late afternoon, so the doctor was still open. Out of some insane luck, they managed to get an appointment that afternoon and he had his medication by later that night. 

‘Virgil, I am happy to inform you that I am now in possession of medication for my anxiety again!’

‘that was super quick, congrats, im happy for you L.’

They talked for much longer, and Logan felt pleased by his gain in mood. Surprisingly, he was even able to talk about the books he had read with Virgil. If Sunday was on his chart, Logan is certain Virgil would get a twelve for today. Even if that broke his scale. 

He made it a point to ask his father to stop and get coffee the next morning. Partially for him, yes. The medication was new to his system again and had made him slightly groggy when it started taking effect. Though it was partially to get a “thank you” gift for Virgil. He had asked what kind of coffee he liked the previous night when they had talked, and ordered his favourite. He offered to pay for his and Virgil’s coffee, but his father simply shrugged.

“You’ve had a hard week, I’ll buy it for you.”

He smiled softly, appreciating his father’s kind gesture more than he would ever say out loud. When they arrived he even gave him a hug, which was hard with two coffee cups but he made it work. 

Before entering the auditorium he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that everything was going to work out. Which may be a lie, but he would have to enter to find out wouldn’t he? With a push, he made his way in. He regretted it almost instantly. He could hear Roman yelling backstage, probably having seen the cast list. To be fair, Logan didn’t know who Roman was cast as, but he hopes it wasn’t all too bad. Quickly, he manages to avoid any kids who are in the auditorium seats and slinks his way up into the tech booth. 

“Good morning, Virgil.” He says, setting down Virgil’s coffee in front of him. 

Virgil looks surprised, “Morning, is this for me?” 

“Who else would it be for?” Logan asks, making Virgil smirk. 

“Thanks, you should hurry down and look at the cast list though. Roman might rip it to pieces.” 

Logan nods and hurries out, but makes the decision to leave his drink with Virgil in case of any...emergency. 

Ducking into the backstage area, he finds Patton trying to calm down Roman, who is very very angry. Remus is laughing again, but Logan doesn’t know what is so funny about his imminent demise. Janus is the first to notice his presence and gives him a sympathetic nod. 

“Patton, he hadn’t even heard of Hamilton until a week ago! What kind of lead even is that!?”

“Look, I don’t understand it either, but when Thomas gets here you can talk to him! I’m sure Logan is going to be shocked when he gets…” Patton had noticed him and was now staring, “here…”

Roman notices and turns on him and shoves the cast list into his face, “Look at this, Logan! You! You are playing Hamilton! Are you happy!?”

Logan sighs deeply, taking the list and looking it over, “Not in the slightest if that makes you feel any better.”

“That actually somehow makes me feel worse!” Roman shouts then sits down in one of the backstage chairs to pout. 

Janus holds back his laughter, “Wow Logan, this is totally not hilarious at all, Roman should totally be pouting like a little kid and throwing a fit.”

“Guys! Seriously! It’s not a bad thing! Logan’s audition was amazing!” Patton says as cheerfully as usual and walks closer to Logan to point at the cast list, “Look, I’m playing Eliza! That’s super awesome! We’ll be doing a lot of scenes together so I hope we can become better friends!”

Logan just nods, going back to reading. Him as Hamilton, with Roman as his understudy. Along with being his understudy, Roman was going to play George Washington. Logan liked George Washington’s part, and though he didn’t understand his being Hamilton, he’s glad Roman got a large role. Janus would be playing Aaron Burr, which made a lot of sense. Janus would be wonderful as Burr. Patton, as he already said, would be playing Eliza. This was...a bit of a problem, the more Logan thought about it. Patton would be playing his love interest. He...he would think about that when it mattered more. Remus would be playing King George, which Logan was glad about. Remus seemed to really want to play the villain. Though Remus’ name was next to another character’s name as well. Maria Reynolds. Remus Grimm playing King George and Maria Reynolds. He would be in a scene where Remus would have to actively seduce him. 

Just as he started to wrap his head around this, Remus slung an arm over his shoulder. 

“Ain’t it just great that I get to be a monarch and a whore!? I, personally, couldn’t be happier. Make money, get dick, I always say!” Remus says excitedly. 

Logan chokes on his own spit, and has to cough a bit before he can reply, “I can see how the seduction angle appeals to you.”

“It won’t appeal to me if you get sick and Roman ends up Hamilton!”

Logan visibly cringes and Remus chuckles, “So you better not drop out or something, dork! I can do a lot of gross shit but acting out the seduction of my twin brother is way too gross.”

Thinking for a second, Logan turns to look at Remus, who is smiling at him. His teeth are so sharp. His eye shadow is bright violet and a mess. He really does look like he had recently been at a rave. 

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint you, Remus.”

[milanosbitch]

rec list for endhawks gems

as usual during this quarantine, i went through a challenging quest, searched through every single fic on ao3 about a single ship and made a rec list, ended up with around 25 works out of 630. nearly all of them should be free of explicit, problematic and triggering content besides one or two in the mature content sense. and i’ll note those down separately but i always suggest reading the tags before starting a fic regardless the rating, just so you know what you’re diving into. furthermore, there’s this author note at the end of a fic that i’ve found which pretty much sums up my feelings about a mess that’s called todoroki friggin’ enji:

“ I love Hawks and Endeavor together. They're a great dynamic, whether it's platonic or not. I'm a pretty open guy when it comes to shipping, and me and a certain lilviathan love going back and forth with dumb ideas about them.

And that's kind of where the contradictory feelings for the Flaming Garbage Man that is Endeavor kind of come from? Because I really do think he's a very interesting and well-developed character, but I also have a very strong urge to stab him at any given time.

I want to make his life miserable and hurt him, but I also want someone to sit him down and tell him that while he owes his family an apology, they do not owe him forgiveness. I want to see him grow. I want to see him face the repercussions of his actions and move forward. ”

—by Canarianyellow on archiveofourown.org

last notes; starred ones are my personal favorites, and i'm adding to this list as i go,, so look out for updates!! you can find a better formatted version of this list here on google docs.

that being said, here are the gems i found on a yet another holy quest:

Walk Alone by adastrad*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: You've lost your wings, you've lost your speed, and in the crowd ahead, you've lost him too. How do you know what name to call out when you don't even know what to call yourself?

as usual, kick-starting the list with one of the first fics i’ve read about them. we have some pretty good angst related to the latest manga chapters in our hands and a fascinating second person pov here. the ‘stream of consciousness’ style of wording kicks you right in the ribs, in a good way.

&&.

It's Cold, I Don't Want To Be Lonely

by onlyatitagain

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: When in the presence of Todoroki Enji, it was easy to feel warm and overwhelmed by heat in more ways than just physical. Hawks was very aware of the fire burning in his heart that roared to life whenever he was with his childhood hero, who was now his best friend. The relationship they had was special in the way of how close they had become, Hawks trusted the number one hero with his life and could always count on him no matter the circumstance.

What would happen if he said something and ruined that trust, the friendship they had built over months of knowing each other?

You should never play with fire, unless you want to get burned.

truly a beautiful hurt/comfort fic. enji’s characterization is gentle and might feel slightly OOC, but give it a chance. there is also some pretty cheesy couple stuff at the end and that might not be your cup of tea, just a heads up.

&&.

Fallen by copper_leaf**

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 7.3K

Summary: Hawks’ attempt to infiltrate the League goes wrong.

Enji is the one he turns to.

both its part one and part two, this series can take my soul. literally 7K of sheer hurt/comfort, and a caring enji. hawks’ eyeliner is probably ruined by now. can i say this is probably the best fic i’ve read about them softness-wise? i can.

&&.

Burning Embers by copper_leaf**

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 6K

Summary: Hawks wakes up, wingless, in Enji's arms.

the continuation of the fic above, here’s more content that will make you feel all mushy. a beautiful excerpt from it:

“It’s a flicker of light in the darkness, the last ember left in the heart that still has the power to bring all else to flame.”

&&.

The Bird Who Swallowed a Star*

by angyhawks (Soll)

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Endeavor remembers Hawks' small hands, how they didn't burn as he danced on his palms.

How Hawks had whispered sweet nothing into his flames, words not important as his lips moved and his voice chirped.

He remember Hawks finding him, small and spent, and gifting him a feather to feed on.

Endeavor wishes a feather had been his only offer.

//in which Endeavor is a fire demon, Hawks is once again tied to the ground, and wouldn't it be nice if they could kiss?

&&.

Light by Caahs*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: Since he was a boy, Hawks gathered an eternal distaste for darkness, which was preserved until his most recent days. However, the blazing figure of Endeavor always came up like his warm source of light, illuminating the most obscure paths and clarifying the most difficult decisions.

&&.

Emotions Are Hard, Love Even More So...

by aurora_whitlock

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: Hawks and Endeavour at the end of a long week. Alone. Together. Its just some cute, fluffy bullshit basically. Warm your hurt little hearts.

&&.

Cuff me to the truth of failure

by Not_A_Valid_Opinion

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: The kid’s eyes are so wide, Hawks can see the entire silhouette of his wings in their reflection. “I want to be you.”

Shit.

“No, you don’t, kid,” he can’t help but promise, can’t stop the sadness in his eyes from flickering into view.

Hawks has dinner with Enji after a bad interview.

&&.

Look at what amounts from the jump

(and I'm never coming down) by

Not_A_Valid_Opinion

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3K

Summary: He stares at Endeavour with something close to regret, maybe closer to suspicion, but before Endeavour can catch the look it’s gone and replaced with a pursed lip and a glance at his phone. “I’ve gotta go. See you around, Enji.”

But the burly man stops him with his name. “Watch where you’re flying,” he says gruffly, though it’s different. It’s not an order. It’s not a request.

Whatever it is, Hawks takes it as a challenge.

Endeavour is worried about Hawks. Hawks doesn't know what to do with that information.

&&.

You mesmerise me in red and gold

by Arayne

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Enji has never gotten to tell Hawks what's on his mind so he tries, in several ways, to make it clear how he feels.

&&.

We've got a good thing going

by lehnsherry

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: Enji is watching Shouto, so he notices the way his eyes snap to the kitchen doorway just before he hears the soft footsteps and the rustling of wings, and his heart jumps into his throat. He turns in his seat just in time to see Hawks walk in, eyes still closed and a hand scratching at his messy hair.

“Mornin’, babe, do you know where my -” Hawks breaks into a huge yawn, and then opens his sleepy eyes, and freezes in the doorway like Shouto used his power on him.

Enji’s mouth makes an involuntary sound of embarrassment, and Hawks flushes all the way down to his chest.

&&.

As He Lived by uzumae*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: Hawks wants to imagine that he still has a place in a world he no longer belongs to.

&&.

future hearts by rire

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: When the rest of Hawks is putting on airs, it’s his wings that give him away.

&&.

Break off a piece of your heart by kettleowl

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 890

Summary: The High-End incident, but they are actors who are too emotionally invested in their roles.

&&.

to take a fall by rire

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: “What’s with that look, Endeavor-san?” Hawks smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I got what I wanted, didn’t I? Now I’ve got more free time than I know what to do with.”

&&.

A Thousand Flowers by adastrad*

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 440

Summary: "Let's hope the next time the cherry blossoms fall, we will all be smiling."

&&.

#fantheflames by adastrad

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 54.9K

Summary: Todoroki Shoto accidentally, on purpose, and with great regret helps make Hawks/Endeavor happen.

this is wholesome. one hundred percent cheff kiss. peak comedy with a dose of stan twitter. actually a shouto-centric fic and more like an outsider pov of slight endhawks.

&&.

This Gentle Earth by adastrad**

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Hawks buys a better excuse to keep visiting Musutafu, but damn it. Enji hadn't been looking to adopt.

guaranteed to melt your insides. enji ends up being a plant parent.

&&.

The Winner Takes it All by adastrad

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 25.2K

Summary: Endeavor's eye is gone. He may say his injuries are his own responsibility, but it's Hawks' fault, isn't it? He will give Enji everything he can. His top secret mission will take the rest.

slaps the roof of the fic this baby right here is a shortcut for a brain burn. with a complicated storytelling and equally complex characterizations, which results in a slow but satisfying reading if you’re looking for a detailed story!! there’s seriously so much pining that it keeps you on your tiptoes until the end of it.

&&.

Roasting the Roaster

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary:  Hawks gossips with the receptionist at Endeavor Hero Agency about what a dork the boss is, discusses Endeavor lookalike porn, and then ropes Shouto into lunch with Endeavor, whereupon Shouto just roasts his dad the whole time.

Can you roast a man who's already on fire? Apparently, yes. Yes you can.

(includes the hit single Did You Need Some Ice For That Sick Burn by Hawks, ft. Shouto Todoroki)

[Only tangentially related to the other fics in this series.]

slight crack fic for humor but it’s truly well-written. a shouto and hawks team up over endeavor was something i never deeply gave attention to yet it is gold and i need more of it. hawks writes a bop, endeavor’s whole agency thirst over the said man and everything leaves you with tears in your eyes from cackling at these dorks.

&&.

the fics listed below the cut are rated mature or

explicit by the authors, and therefore contain sexual content:

Penumbra by Nicolefrickle

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Enji wants to touch Hawks' wings. Badly.

this one is rated mature but the theme is only minorly implied so i can say it is safe to read without worrying about the rating. more like a fluff fic with hawks being a happy birb.

&&.

An Imperfect Cage by Crandberrycrush

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 55.5K

Summary: Hawks is an orphan, brought up in a charity school and thrust into the world at eighteen to work as a governor for the Todoroki family, a family that has more secrets than he can hope to unravel.

*A gothic romance based heavily on the novel Jane Eyre*

&&.

Liquid Nitrogen by surveycorpsjean

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 23.8K

Summary: Enji can't figure out why the hell Hawks keeps sleeping in his office.

the plot? the writing? the characterization? everything is perfect. i’m normally uncomfortable with this much amount of smut and debated if i should put this on the list or not, since it might consist of triggering content for some. please read all the tags beforehand starting this piece.

&&.

Palindrome by Nicolefrickle

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 7.9K

Summary: Hawks doesn't realize just how much he needs Endeavor, or why it feels like he's still racing time.

//

A character study of Hawks with flashbacks and inner thoughts, heavy on the Endhawks, heavy on the hurt

[darkpoisonouslove]

Winx Club Season 6 Thoughts Part 1

I have watched this more than once and even though I have some memories of the ending, I still have no idea what is happening in this season. Now my expectations have been updated to “take what I can get” so that should go better. Also, I will be writing the number of the episode above the section of thoughts that deals with it so that it can be easier to navigate my posts. With that said, let’s get to it:

- Wow, they actually showed Daphne together with the Winx in the intro? Nice. However, I am torn between wanting to move on from Sirenix and despising the fact that I’ll have to suffer through Bloomix and Mythix this season. It’s a lose-lose situation for me.

6x01:

- The Trix now have beef with Daphne as well? And they are going back to the somewhat original plan of the Coven to destroy Domino? !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am actually excited about this!

- Did Daphne just try to go through the door? Aww, sweet precious child who has forgotten what it is to have a body. I am in pain for her even though I am happy that she is human again. I do not like the way that Marion and Oritel seem to not grasp the very obvious problem that Daphne is facing, however. I wish we could see their relationship with Daphne but we can’t step aside from Bloom for three seconds. At least they are showing some consequences of everything Daphne has gone and keeps going through.

- If the beast is the most powerful thing in the Magic Dimension, why does it listen to the Trix instead of just eating them before moving on to Domino? And it looked pretty awake without them having to summon it. So yeah, not much sense in this.

- Okay, I can get that Daphne is still getting used to having a body again but her doubting herself does not feel in character to me. She was always the one to tell Bloom to not doubt herself and she never lost faith in anyone from their family even when she spent two decades as a spirit. This is not my Daphne. She would know how to proceed. It’s like they reversed all her wisdom after bringing her back. As if you can’t be wise unless you’re a non-corporeal entity. I don’t like that. And wasn’t she the nymph of Magix? She is now the nymph of Domino. I mean, she could be both, I guess, but the titles are never used simultaneously.

- Why are the Specialists flying on their bikes if the ship is also there? And why is Daphne wearing heels if she has trouble walking?!?!?!?!

- Did Marion do all of the decorations with her magic? I’m just gonna accept that it was her. Also, I am kinda glad that they kept the maids from Magical Adventure. They were well-intentioned even if a little overbearing.

- Yes, Bloom, great way to be empathetic with your sister. Keep telling her about DANCING even though she can’t even walk in a straight line... or any kind of line. They should have waited with the party. And Daphne tripped here because Bloom had stepped on her clothes. It wasn’t her fault. Though, a makeover might be good for her. I am not a fan of the way Stella referred to her as if Daphne is the younger one and needs help (even though she does need help).

- I also don’t like the fact that they are trying to say that Daphne is stuck on who she was which keeps her from becoming who she needs to be in the present. It does not sound like her. But it’s cute that all the Winx are trying to help her. I won’t mind her being a more central part of this season. She has helped them so many times that it would be nice to see them do something for her or even with her.

- Daphne does look nice! Certainly better than Winx in their hideous dresses Won’t we burn those things already?!

- Yeah, Daphne cowering away and hiding at Oritel’s side is definitely not in character. Sorry but she legit gave everything she had to save her sister from the Ancestral Witches even when she knew it would be the end of her.

- Oh, look. They’re using the special Sirenix spells. I can’t believe it.

- Oritel (and Marion) must be so goddamn sick of the Trix and them threatening his family already. And it hasn’t been more than a year since they came back from Obsidian.

- Oh, poor Daphne. I feel so bad for her. But at least she has her family now and they can hold her and help her get through it. Though, I still think this isn’t entirely in character for her. Tritannus tortured her and she refused to tell him anything and she kept fighting even from her cell despite how limited her resources were. Here she hasn’t even tried. They said she didn’t have her powers but we haven’t seen her try to use them and Daphne has always tried until the very last moment.

- Okay, but I hate it when they send them places only for them to realize they had the answer all along.

- Omg, she was gonna sacrifice herself just to not threaten anyone else. This is more like Daphne. But I am so happy that she got her powers back. Even though they really half assed her Sirenix transformation, though I guess that was to be expected. After Roxy (oh, wait, and Diaspro, too), she is the only fairy besides Winx to be given any transformation so I guess they thought that anything would do.

6x02:

- Why is Kiko excited to be back at Alfea? And what the hell are Daphne and Bloom doing there? Daphne should be on Domino and getting reacquainted with politics and economy for when she will be queen and Bloom and the other Winx should probably be in the Love and Pet store. Anywhere, really, but at Alfea. Why are they at Alfea again? *sigh*

- Aww, I love the fact that they are all still wearing the charm bracelets Bloom gave them for Christmas. It’s cute. I am not as much a fan of Stella being as obsessed with fashion as she was in season 5. They made her whole character about that (except the struggle with her parents but that has also been resolved now more or less so...)

- I guess bending down is overrated now. You just use magic instead of any other way of solving problems like picking things up from the floor or making space in a room. And poor Kiko. No one noticed that he got miniaturized.

- The new clothes suck. They look so... same. At least the old outfits still had some personality to them.

- How did Griselda not feel the wave of Stella’s magic? Or notice the... illusion? (I suppose Stella used dispersed light to create the appearance of a normal bedroom instead of the boutique.) At least she noticed Kiko. But ewwww, why did he lick Bloom’s face (and after he was angry with her)? He’s not a dog!!!!! Please, writers.

- Oh, no! The pixies are here. Why did they not only change Tecna and Musa’s pixies, but also the design for Piff? Locket, Amore and Chatta look almost the same but I am so not on board with the very fact that they are all back. The least the writers could have done would have been to keep the old pixies (and designs). (Just, please, tell me that the Winx aren’t students again.)

- Faragonda has been Headmistress of Alfea for 100 years? Yeah, right. Direct contradiction right there. In SotLK Hagen said that when they battled the Coven, they were Winx’ age. So they should be about 50. I just hate this. And Faragonda saying that she doesn’t like celebrating anniversaries because they make her feel old? That feels OOC to me but okay.

- Lmao, dying at that dance between Faragonda and Wizgiz. XDDD

- Griffin sounds like she’s finally turned the education in CT in the right direction. She even asked the elder students to help the freshmen which is nice because we’ve seen her not care about the malice witches exhibited towards each other (which I call bullshit on but still). But with the proving thing? Yeah, okay.

- Obviously Selina and Bloom know each other because Selina is from Earth and we all know that everything that happens on Earth is in Gardenia. Love how Griffin didn’t react to that info, though. Does that mean that there were witches on Earth even when the fairies were trapped? Dammit, writers, develop your damn world!

- How did the pixies even defeat the trolls the first time around? And why the hell did they decide that it was a good idea to imprison them under pixie village? You see, this is why you don’t live over the place you imprisoned your enemies. Because they don’t need to find you if they get free. They are already there.

- Oh, Griffin actually stopped the destruction of Pixie Village? I am surprised. I thought she would just let it go on. I mean, the show hasn’t been all that consistent with her characterization so...

- How the hell is Bloom sensing the other pixies? She isn’t bonded to them. If anything, Locket should be the one being able/unable to trace them.

- I was ready to be majorly pissed at this episode and now I am. It was already annoying me but the Trix defeating Griffin so easily made everything much worse. And like... she didn’t even try to fight them? She could have put up a shield to protect herself from all their attacks and she could have used her ability to fly in order to be more mobile while fighting them but nah. She just got soundly defeated. Amazing. And by amazing, I mean the exact opposite. This was horrible and I hate it.

- So... did the Trix ditch their Sirenix? And where did they get those new powers? Also, why the hell did the other witches join them so easily? I know that most witches must want recognition but some of those witches were there when the Trix nearly killed them both in season 1 and season 2. They at least shouldn’t have joined them. Or even if they’d joined, it should have been just a cover so that they don’t get spelled like Griffin and they could secretly work on taking the Trix down. Oh, yes, and why do the Trix want to take over the other colleges? That somehow doesn’t make sense. They already tried that back at season 1 and it didn’t work out.

- What the hell happened to Cloud Tower being a living being? They just destroyed parts of it but nah, that hasn’t come up yet. I hate this. Also, the fact that Griffin not only got turned into a crow but also hit by a lightning. Poor baby!

- Oh, great! She almost died. Love how it was never addressed what it was like for Griffin not just to be a crow but also unable to help save her school and her witches because she couldn’t even warn the others what was going on.

6x03:

- Why can’t Roxy just grant the crow the ability to talk? We know from season 4 that she can. The dark magic could have prevented that but at least they would know that there is a spell on the crow. And how did Faragonda not feel Griffin? There should be some part of her aura or whatever that hasn’t changed despite the magic in place. Not to mention that Griffin could have tried to show her it was her in some way. The two know each other. Surely if Griffin flew around and pulled out an object that means something to both of them, Faragonda would have started wondering and would have probably figured out what happened. There were so many ways around this but the writers didn’t want contact to be possible because otherwise, it would be over too soon when Winx defeated the Trix.

- Why are the boys at Linphea college now? Also, why doesn’t Brandon know that Sky has a cousin? I guess Thoren doesn’t show up on Eraklyon but does that mean that his whole family has just let go of their ties to the crown? I somehow doubt that.

- Yes, Musa. Destroying all of Alfea with your music will surely cheer up the pixies.

- So why is Miele not in Alfea? That sounds kind of weird. Although, it is possible that she didn’t want to be in Flora’s shadow or in her surveillance the whole time.

- Studies? *groan* Why the fuck are they students again?!?!?! I hate this. But I like the fact that Griselda is back. It’s not the same without her.

- So... not just Bloom, but all the rest of Winx know who Thoren is? But Brandon doesn’t? You know, Brandon who is Sky’s best friend and squire? Yeah, right.

- “Barbaric yell”? Fuck you, too, you “spiritual” snob.

- Is that Nex? Please, tell me it’s not. He seems even worse than Roy. Who is instantly jealous even though he has no right to be since he and Layla aren’t dating. God, I really miss Nabu. He was such a mature and sweet guy. Exactly what Layla needed. (And why is Roy with the Specialists when that doesn’t make any sense whatsoever?)

- Great job, Tecna. Now Helia is probably gonna think that Flora is visiting some old boyfriend. You could have just told him she was seeing her sister. Though, I have to ask where the hell Flora has been all summer if not at home (since she hasn’t seen Miele in so long)? And from her own words it sounds like she hasn’t seen her since season 3 which is just ridiculous.

- You tell him, Layla. Though, that will only make it worse if they get together later because I do not expect the writing to  be clever enough to imply that it was Layla who helped Nex (I presume) get over his pride and superiority complex.

- If Linphea college is so great, why didn’t Flora study there as well? Is it new? It has to be very new in order for that to be the explanation.

- Wait, they actually realized it’s Griffin? But why can she only speak in single words and not whole sentences? Roxy could make Artu talk like a person.

- Yes, they have to tell everyone else because it’s not like Cloud Tower is a whole castle floating in the sky that is probably visible from kilometers.

- Oh, wow. They bothered to give Miele a five-second transformation? I can’t believe it. How very generous of them.

- They actually managed to make the connection between the flying Cloud Tower and the trouble on the ground? I am surprised by their normal level deduction skills.

- Did the Legendarium just negate not only their spell, but also their powers? Wow. That is... actually kinda interesting even though I do not expect it to make a lot of sense when they bother to explain it.

- At least the Specialists caught Winx before they could fall and die. I actually like the fact that they all have to retreat. It was obviously hard on them even though they didn’t have their powers anymore.

- Oh, goodie. It’s Bloomix time. In case someone hadn’t realized that Bloom is sooooo special. She now gets her own transformation. It’s fun how they didn’t even bother explaining how it was possible for the Legendarium to extinguish all their powers.

6x04:

- Well, at least Stella’s enthusiasm can never be extinguished. But yes, just exercise in high heels, why don’t you? I am so sick of them never wearing comfortable shoes. Enough heels already! They need to wear something that is actually suitable for the activity at hand.

- Poor Kiko. At least Stella didn’t break something while pulling that stunt.

- So Thoren and Daphen actually know each other? Why is everyone acting so familiar with everyone else even though they shouldn’t know each other? I hate this. Also, Thoren doesn’t sound all that sincere. I mean, he probably is. It just doesn’t exactly sound like that to me.

- I am sick of them making Stella the most incompetent in everything. You’re telling me that Tecna that is always on her phone and computer is pulling off all the physical exercise with no problem but Stella that can probably run a marathon if there is shopping involved can’t? I am not buying it.

- I am so done with both Roy and Nex. But more with Nex. Roy is kinda jealous which is ridiculous because he isn’t with Layla but Nex is being a fucking asshole and I hate him so much. I really hope he changes if he is going to be with Layla. (He’ll have to. I don’t believe she would ever spare another glance at him if he remains like that and if she does, then the writers have completely ruined her.)

- I wish Daphne would go to the rescue mission as well. She was the one who figured out the whole way to save everyone.

- Miele was doing so well! She was so brave, fighting multiple opponents. She is great! She even has more interesting spells than Flora.

- Wait, basilisks? Aren’t they supposed to be like snakes? These look more like dragons. I know they said flying basilisks but still.

- The petrifying stares are kinda interesting. But we all know that no Winx is gonna get turned to stone so there is still no tension here. Cute Riven and Sky moment, however.

- Seriously? Bloom can withstand a Trix convergence on her own but Griffin couldn’t? Yeah, makes total sense. I have said this already but if Winx are obviously stronger than the teachers, why not just make them directors of the schools and be done with it? It’s not like anyone else is getting anything done anyway.

- Awww, Stella did the flip! Nice!

- That basilisk totally could have petrified Flora and the other fairies but, of course, it didn’t even try. Like I said, no fucking stakes whatsoever.

- Didn’t they already deal with the tree... whatever the hell they are (I am too lazy to check how you write that and, honestly, this show does not deserve the effort)? Why are there more? Also, she totally did not need to save Miele from falling because Miele has wings. She could have just went back into flight and Flora could have earned her Bloomix just for saving her from the tree thing.

- Okay, the Bloomix spells look better actually. I hope. Otherwise, this will really get on my nerves.

- Why weren’t the Linphea fairies using their wings? That could have saved them from being petrified. I think in flight it would be easier to dodge the rays than it would be while you’re running AND HAVING YOUR BACK TURNED ON THE BASILISKS. BECAUSE THAT IS FUCKING SMART.

- And talking about smart, Roy was an absolute idiot. He could have just whisked Layla away while he was on his hoverbike and been done with it. He didn’t have to get in front of her and get turned into stone. And what does Nex do? His sudden care for Roy made him all stupid as well and he got himself petrified too. Great fucking job! I see how amazing you are in your supposed area of expertise.

6x05:

- Aww, I love the way Stella pulled Layla out of danger. I am really starting to ship this. Could have gone without Layla asking her if she remembered the flip since she obviously did as Stella performed it just a couple of minutes earlier (but it was in the last episode so they have to even give a flashback!) but it was cute that they did it together. I don’t really think that their actions should have qualified them for earning Bloomix but anyway. I don’t mind that they transformed together because their dynamic is really cute and I am sinking in deep.

- Ah, yes. Bloom was fighting the Trix. Totally forgot that because there was no stakes to that fight whatsoever. I do like the aesthetic of Bloom being in a different transformation than Stella and Layla. We haven’t seen that since three seasons ago when the first Enchantix was won.

- How did Stella get inspired for THESE hats by the battle? This is so totally not appropriate wear for any remotely intense situation. At least she didn’t get sulky this time when the rest didn’t like her designs.

- They’re making Riven an asshole again. I am glad that they had Tecna also being busy with her own things. Honestly, I kinda feel like they’re making Musa too demanding when it comes to attention. And Tecna is right that her algorithm is quiet while Musa’s music isn’t. When you live with other people, you have to respect their space. However, you’d think that they’d resolved this issue years ago since they have been roommates forever. I do like the symbols on their door, though. It really personalizes the space.

- Oh, Daphne has friends! That is really cool! Though, I hope this girl is a magical creature that ages differently because otherwise, this doesn’t make sense. What they said about the long time they haven’t seen each other makes me hopeful.

- These pandemonium sprites look like rats. I am not impressed. Even if they have destructive screams. You’d think the Magic Dimension will have something more interesting. The legend of the four sisters from the Hallowinx episode was leagues above this both in complexity and in creepiness. They need to step it up a notch with the Legendarium. And they don’t even explain any extended history (if any) behind the legends which could have been a great way to worldbuild. But nah.

- I don’t understand what is Musa’s problem. Tecna is allowed to not enjoy herself. And Musa is acting as if if all of her friends don’t enjoy the place she loves, she will not be validated in her love for it. It’s getting annoying. Not to mention that the pixies are not helping. I forgot their only role is to clown around... Which by the way, we already have Kiko for.

- Okay, the thing with the sounds residing in the pandemonium cave is actually kinda cool. Still not sure how exactly Tecna and Musa defeated the sprites but it was cool to see them team up. I’ve always known that the two of them can combine to a very powerful result. And Tecna creating tech for Musa is super cute!

- Ooooh, Diaspro team-up with the Trix! I love it! And Diaspro and Icy circling each other looked like they were checking each other out. They just need to get Bloom to leave Sky and join them and it is going to be the most powerful OT3 ever. (Why is Diaspro still only in her Winx form, though. It has been six years (and possibly more depending on where the movies fit in the time line).)

6x06:

- Vortex of flames? And fire eaters? That finally sounds intense. Let’s just hope that it will deliver as much as that’s possible at this point in time. Also, I love the fact that Diaspro is invited to the event on Domino. She is a princess, after all, and it would be a good idea to try to smooth things out with her kingdom (since she and Bloom aren’t on good terms).

- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Daphne is getting crowned as the heir to the throne! Yessss! Good! I am so happy to hear this! And they’ve gotten rid of the ugly dresses. Though, you’d think that Daphne will also have a new dress that is special for her coronation.

- Well, Thoren has jumped on quite the fast horse. Which I know will keep being the case but... What is Sky’s problem? Is it that Diaspro is there? Or is it because of Thoren? They’re suddenly being inseparable.

- Yeah, I don’t think Bloom’s weakness is from sharing the Dragon Fire. It is supposed to be inextinguishable so it shouldn’t be weakened by a few sparks that she gave to her friends.

- Aww, Daphne, honey, we know you will do your best for Domino! You already have! The whole planet wouldn’t be here without you and your family wouldn’t be either. I am so glad she is finally getting the recognition she deserves.

- Yeah, okay, Thoren left Sky but that was years ago. People change. Though, considering who he’s grown up with (aka Erendor), I can see how that is a foreign concept to Sky. Not to absolve him of responsibility for being so quick to judge after all this time in which he hasn’t bothered to see Thoren. And besides, they should let Daphne make her own decisions. She is more than capable of protecting herself.

- “I just love love” Amore is every shipper ever. Probably why she is most tolerable to me from the pixies.

- This is bullshit. Bloom was born without Dragon Fire. She didn’t have any before Daphne gave it to her. She doesn’t need it to sustain her. Maybe to sustain her powers. But not her life. And back in season 1 when the Trix stole the Dragon Fire from her, she was just fine. She wasn’t passing out and stuff. Stop making inconsistencies just to have more drama, dammit!

- Those fire eater things look stupid. I hope they are more effective, at least.

- Love how Diaspro didn’t even get to have her transformation even though they didn’t have to draw her a new one. They just had to take the transformation sequence from season 1. But even that was too much. At least Sky has learned not to trust her anymore. I can’t believe this day came.

- I like to think that Oritel asking about the girls meant all of Winx not just Bloom and Daphne (even if he didn’t but I think that he did).

- So why did Daphne just stand there instead of blasting Diaspro before she could throw Bloom into the vortex? I do love Diaspro and her wicked good days, though. If only she would just stop caring about Sky. I mean, Icy is right there!

- So it is confirmed that Bloom is a pyromaniac now, right? She was falling towards a vortex of flames and thinking about how beautiful it is. I can def see her lighting things on fire just to see the pretty flames once she got old enough to use a lighter. What is that hydra in the vortex, though, and where did it come from?

- Of course, Bloom can defeat the hydra and survive the vortex even though she was too weak to walk on her own. Of fucking course! Makes perfect sense! (I just hope the Trix will take Diaspro on their side even though Bloom survived. Diaspro did her job and the Trix have been failing to kill Bloom for years. They can’t hold that against her.) Edit: Where the hell did Diaspro go? We never see her again for the rest of the first half of the season (and possibly the second half as well). This plot point was just abandoned midway and I hate it!

- They already danced. Nothing says that they can’t again but they’re making such a big deal out of it.

- I’m gonna say it here but I am really not a fan of the Bloomix designs. The separate elements are good on their own but combined all together are too much for me. I don’t know where in the outfit to look because every part of it is screaming for attention.

6x07:

- Wow. I guess Stella doesn’t have to worry about getting rid of spiders. She can just yell at them and they’re going to leave. That’s actually useful. Wish I could do that.

- Please, tell me that Faragonda is at least taking some interest in how things with Griffin are going. Not that I have doubts about how well Roxy can take care of her but I doubt that Griffin is feeling very comfortable with the whole ordeal. I think she’d feel better if she spent some of her time as a crow with Faragonda. (Also, why didn’t Faragonda try to break the spell on her? If she can’t, then how did anyone else?)

- I have to say that them saying the Library of Alexandria wasn’t burned but hidden is hurting me because I wish that could be true. At least then the books wouldn’t have been destroyed even though we still wouldn’t have access to them.

- Love it how Daphne’s class has only the Winx and some other fairies when it is convenient. Aka when the Trix need someone to pose as.

- Why did the Specialists only come to Alfea to wish Winx goodbye? They could have done that on the phone. And I really don’t like the way they are making me like Roy by having an even worse option there for Layla. But the gift was actually cool. At least he gets her to a certain level.

- What was the idea of Daphne taking an entire balloon for her and the pixies if the pixies aren’t even flying with the balloon? They’re flying on their own and are just keeping up with the balloon. She could have gone with Bloom and the pixies could have been in the other balloon with Winx.

- I thought Bloom used her fire to make the storm disperse but nope. She just brought the two balloons higher up. And I just got excited over nothing. Damn!

- Really? Cherie just solved this? On her own? Even though Winx couldn’t? Yes, I agree with the Trix. This is ridiculous.

- Of course. Where there is Egypt, there are mummies. Normally, I don’t complain about mummies as I love all things Egyptian but there isn’t one thing that Winx hasn’t managed to fuck up in the last couple of seasons so I am not thrilled about this development.

- Why aren’t the Trix attacking? They have a perfect opportunity. They could blast Winx in back as they deal with the mummies and finish them off. But that would be too reasonable a plan. They have to wait for Winx to get a handle on the situation because they can’t be bothered to move their asses and get something fucking done.

6x08:

- How is THAT going for their bandages? They just keep blasting the mummies.

- Really not a fan of the way Daphne’s magic appears to be elemental. I think it would have been cooler for her to have some other powers. Or at least have just one element (and I think water would have been more interesting).

- Why does light seem to work on the mummies? They’re dead! They shouldn’t care about light. Nor sleep for that matter! I was gonna say that rain would make more sense as it would make their bandages wet but that didn’t work, yet somehow sleep seemed to have an effect. At least for a while. The lack of logic in this is unreal.

- Chatta just found the oldest way for defeating a mummy - unwrapping it from the bandages. Has none of them watched any movies? That is literally everywhere! Even though it does not make sense either because under the bandages there is a dried up body and this should have been gruesome as hell, not successful.

- Why did Selina send the Sphinx after the city instead of after Winx? That seems like they wanted to cause some unnecessary destruction only to make the Sphinx look tougher. Like we don’t know they’re gonna defeat it.

- How can Bloom feel everything? This is getting preposterous.

- Well, of course, Bloom can also sense a diary that she has never seen. Because it obviously has the energy of a living person and she can feel it. Makes perfect sense, why are you asking?

- At least the Trix are pretty good at keeping up the charade as Alfea fairies. Despite Stormy’s almost instant fuck-up in the the previous episode. Though, if they were smarter, they would be studying Winx to find out how they beat them every time and then deliberately set out to prevent that from happening so that they can win.

- When did Selina get into the library? I know Acheron told her that she needs to find the diary but she managed to teleport to another planet and we didn’t even see it. Not to mention that he said he knows where she can find the diary, yet she doesn’t seem to be doing so well in her search for it.

- Of course, suddenly it turns out that Bloom had a friend in Gardenia that she has never ever mentioned before and no one knew nothing about. Makes sense. They did look cute together, though.

- Seriously????? Piff got the Sphinx?!?!?!?! The Trix are an absolute mood in those last two episodes. This is ridiculous... again.

- Yeah, sure. They’re just doing convergence left and right. And with Daphne. Not like that should be hard to pull off. And I hate to say this but it should have worked. They so totally don’t need Bloom in order for the convergence to happen.

- Originally, they were supposed to have only one try but whatever. And my guess was five letters because I thought he was only asking about the word “books”. I didn’t think it was supposed to be “those books”. But I was still close enough. And it wasn’t that hard a riddle.

- So the library didn’t get burned down. Winx fucked it up and now you can’t enter it anymore. Nice one! Yeah, successful mission for you. But you managed to send to hell the whole library.

6x09:

- “We’re getting to see the world”? Yeah, one country from one single planet. It’s not like they have been all over the Magic Dimension. Sure, they are totally impressed by Earth that has been shown to be behind on tech AND magic. This line would make sense if they were normal people from Earth. The way things are, it just sounds weird.

- They really have no better way to create danger and are using the pixies to mess with the balloons? Pathetic. Also, why is Daphne using water to stabilize the balloon? How does that make sense?

- They’re just making pointless filler. Stella could have given them the proper warm attire the first time around. There was no need for that ridiculousness. I cannot anymore.

- Oh, yes, suddenly Bloom’s rationalizing abilities peak and she is considering all the question marks around Selina being in the library. Right. Totally bought that.

- Well, at least the Trix are rocking the disguises and the undercover work. That is the breath of fresh air that I need.

- How are the pixies not dead? The Trix turned Griffin into a crow but the pixies are somehow putting up a fight against them? I am going to scream. This is unbelievably stupid. The Trix have the power to decimate the pixies with one hit. So why didn’t they? They would have done us all a favor.

- Yeah, it was so obvious that Piff would wake them up before the Trix could finish them off. It’s just too convenient.

- I see Icy is still struggling with her crush on Bloom that hasn’t let up since the third movie. She didn’t even try to fight. And after all of this, they didn’t even take the diary? Come on!

- They saved his restaurant? It never would have been endangered if they hadn’t shown up! And I didn’t see anyone putting any conscious thought into saving the restaurant... or destroying it for that matter.

- Speaking of their never ending journey, are you telling me that this is the still the day that they left Egypt? Please, do not tell me that they somehow managed to get from Egypt to China in hot air balloons in one day! The hell!

- Oh, yeah, Icy, blame Stormy. You totally had the chance to blow the Winx away but you decided to leave because you don’t actually want to be rid of Bloom. Just admit it instead of blaming Stormy for your leadership and decisions.

- Pearls of restraint? Seriously? How do pearls relate to restraint? This sounds ridiculous. Are you telling me that they are going for some ocean-fire opposition here? Thanks, I hate it!

- Of course, the pearls are easy as fuck to find. Why would they be hidden or protected or something? Pft!

- How the hell did he give them a live flower? And they just said it’s one of a kind and handmade. Where did it come from? That just... doesn’t make sense. Why do I even bother anymore? Not to mention that it is supposed to only grow in Gardenia but he totally had one that was still alive in China. I don’t even know what to say anymore. I have run out of reactions over how incredibly illogical all of this is!

6x10:

- How many colleges are there and why have none of them ever come up before? I should be glad that they are giving us some tiny bit of worldbuilding but what we get is half assed as hell. We don’t even know where these things are or how they even help the Trix.

- Yeah, the Specialists AND the palladins are training at Alfea because THAT makes perfect sense. But OMG! Riven humoring Kiko and being so cheerful? with him? Absolute perfection!

- I am sick of the pixies. They weren’t so annoying in seasons 2 and 3. What happened?

- Oh, they brought back the freshmen? I thought no one would remember about them. I am pleasantly surprised for the second time in two minutes and I cannot believe it.

- They also unspelled Griffin? Nice.

- Am I the only one that is weirded out by the fact that everyone is referring to them as “the Winx” now? They just called them “girls” before. And even the dragon tamer from the previous episode referred to them that way which was just weird af.

- Aaaaaand Alfea just gained another facility. Not like that takes space or anything. And they were like “Oh, yeah, there was totes a greenhouse in this school and Flora didn’t know about it because it was abandoned BUT... it’s in perfect shape.” The bullshit is unreal once again.

- Omg, Stella and Brandon are so adorable! He is instantly humoring her and just rolling with her theatrical performance. They were made for each other.

- Yes, of course, Sky is the only one that is picking on the “wrong” vibes Selina is emitting. Because he is just so instinctive and it would be an opportunity for drama between him and Bloom (further supported by her just instantly trusting Selina and breaking Alfea protocol for it). Edit: There was no fight between Bloom and Sky about Selina, I can’t believe it! At this point they would throw just about anything between them so I am surprised that they didn’t use the opportunity.

- Wow. Does Stella really have to change their outfits every time they step into a different room? And she just left Selina out. It would have been weird to change her clothes as well but leaving her out was also just... odd.

- Plant monsters again? Didn’t they fight similar plants at one point? I honestly don’t remember when that was anymore but the ones they already fought looked like sunflowers. Maybe in Gardenia when Diana took over? That sounds right.

- Ah, this explains why they unspelled Griffin. That way they had all Palladium, Griffin and Selina pretending to be with them just so everything can piece together in a convenient way.

- Well, this is the most consistent Bloom has been ever since season 3. Something happens and she is instantly running back to Gardenia. At least the Winx tried to talk her out of it (and aww, precious Stella even crying over it!). And okay, I get she is upset that she nearly got Flora killed (love how Selina will never answer for that even though it was one of the closest calls ever) but she just wanted to protect a friend. She couldn’t have known what Selina was planning. And leaving now after they were in such a rush to find Eldora seems very counterproductive and selfish or at least self-absorbed on her part. They still have work to do.

6x11:

- There’s a Bloom dopelganger at Cloud Tower? Why are they even accepting students? And why did that fairy decide to join them (also, the hair cages are the stupidest thing ever)? They didn’t even give her a reason to do that. I almost feel like they only did it to show it’s possible to switch from being a fairy to being a witch in order to set up Selina’s story. Not like Mirta ever existed or anything. Or Faragonda for that matter (and yes, they switched from being a witch to being a fairy but that implies that the opposite is also possible).

- What, Griselda now has a problem with classical music? But I can’t believe we are seeing Roxy after she is done being useful to the plot. And it was nice to see her in a class in the previous episode.

- Why did Stella need to give them wings? We can go an episode without being reminded that she’s into fashion. And I hate how they are making Winx fight the second Bloom is not there. How is training gonna help if they can’t lock up the Legendarium? That should be a priority!

- Oh, god, the filler is unbearable (so I’m skipping it) and it’s not even giving a good perspective on the emotional mess which I think was the point. They could have done so much in the half an episode they wasted. (Also, how come Layla ended up with Nex when she seems to have more in common with Roy or at least get along with him better?)

- Even the Trix know that Bloom runs back to Earth every time there are consequences for her actions that she doesn’t want to face. But why vampires? And they made it sound like the idea of vampires exists only on Earth. That seems kinda weird.

- And the flower is in Gardenia. I mean, I knew that because I remember parts of the whole Eldora thing. But still.

- Yes, Layla and Stella are the only ones that grew up as princesses so only they can try to be leaders when Bloom is gone. I have to say that that shot of all of them hugging with Kiko but without Bloom is literally perfect for the rewrite I would do that has Layla as the main character and her and Stella are dating. (Why the hell did Bloom leave Kiko behind? She has NEVER done that before!)

- Oh, they’re energy vampires? They don’t drink blood? Or that’s just a paralyzing spell? Oh, wait, no. It’s a hypnotizing spell. I do hate to admit that that seems to be one of the abilities of vampires but they have reduced them to just that? And kinda draining energy? Booooooooring.

- Wait, the vampires are suddenly shooting beams out of their eyes somehow. ‘Cause that makes sense.

- At least Bloom realized that the Legendarium brought the vampires to life. I was just gonna say that it’s dumb of her to not figure that out after so many episodes.

- Well, this episode was completely pointless and could have been easily cut. So could have been the next, I’m guessing. The pixies were pointless as well because Bloom was going to run into the vampires sooner or later and Winx were supposed to go to Gardenia anyway because the flower is there. There was no need for any of this, really.

6x12:

- Poor Mike and Vanessa. They have been threatened so many times because Bloom will not face her problems and drags them with her to Gardenia. And they are still never complaining about it, never even for a second wished that she hadn’t found out the truth about herself. They are so precious, I love them!

- If you can’t stay at your home, why did you barricade yourself inside it? The logic.

- Of course, she doesn’t have a complete plan. Why would she? She didn’t have to stop and fight them. She could have just kept flying to get them far, far away. It’s clear that she is their target. And that would have bought her time to think.

- And once again, Winx show up just on time to save her. Couldn’t have let the vampires take a bite or two... Oh, wait. They don’t bite. Why would they? Not like that is literally the MAIN thing to a vampire.

- Oh, come on! She’s acting like they have been apart for ages and she abandoned them forever. And her little speech is annoying me because she sounds like she had an epiphany and I call bullshit on that. She was moping right up until the battle and then she clearly wasn’t thinking about ANYTHING.

- Stella legit turned Bloom into a broom?!?!?! For what possible reason? And was she planning to sweep the streets with Bloom’s hair. Very inappropriate even if I would have had nothing against seeing that.

- Oh, yeah. Great idea to leave behind the transformations and go all casual. They might have been able to fight back otherwise and we couldn’t have had that. They needed to be “enslaved” in order for something to appear to be happening.

- What do you mean Stella’s address is Alfea college? Her address should be on Solaria. And why did she just not put Mike and Vanessa’s address? That’s the only Earth address she could have used. But no! Her fashion obsession had to be dragged back in but at least this time it served some purpose.

- “Solar halo”? That sounds so cool. But did the vampire really leave two pixies “guard” against a fairy and four more pixies? How does that make sense? Your math does not add the fuck up! I know you’re undead but you must have some brains left in there.

- Oh, yeah, and the sunlight even breaks the vampires’ spell BEFORE destroying the vampires. NO.

- They make me sick as well, Darcy, don’t worry. They really left enough time for the fashion show as well? I am getting sick of this fashion obsession when there is nothing else going on! There is no plot. There is no point to these episodes.

- She wants inspiration? She didn’t have enough of that when they were fighting all the goth vampires? Though, I have to say that I really like the designs! She really mixed them up and I am so happy to see Stella designing something with a goth streak because it works for one of my ideas.

6x13:

- This is the most important pizza on a TV show ever. But I am so happy to see how excited Mike and Vanessa are to have all the girls together. They have basically adopted all of them at this point.

- Does this episode intend to start at some point? 1/4 is already done and they have not done anything AT ALL!

- Oh, the touch of Selina and Bloom feels is the first interesting thing.

- Even Mike has noticed how convenient it is that everything is in Gardenia. But wait, Bloom had a drawing of the flower and she didn’t remember it when she first saw it? Wow! They are amping up the ridiculousness even more.

- Wait, why did Bloom keep saying that she’s Bloom and Eldora keeps ignoring that? Isn’t Eldora supposed to be the one that remembers her and Bloom should be the one to have her memories wiped or whatever? Also, Eldora’s cheerfulness is exhausting me when it is coupled with her chaotic energy. That post about Eldora being a drunk Faragonda is too real since Faragonda’s cheerfulness and positivity is a lot more peaceful.

- Weren’t there supposed to be no more fairies on Earth after the Wizards of the Black Circle? Then how come Eldora and Selina were just fine? That is stupid and contradicts the entirety of season 4 but, of course, no one cares about continuity. What is that? If it doesn’t make money, it’s not of interest.

- Yeah, Selina’s backstory makes no sense because she wasn’t after power. She was happy with Eldora and then all of a sudden, boom! She’s evil. Yeah, right. And where did the being the witch of snakes come from? She has never been shown to... oh, wait! That was somehow relevant to the finale, wasn’t it? Ugggggh!

- Lmaooo, the Trix are writing their own critique on the whole thing. Yes, it is all the same old song and dance. I wish they would get more interesting powers. And instead we’re getting Mythix that is both ugly and unnecessary.

- Why didn’t the Winx try telling the Trix that Selina is playing them? That would have made things different.

- “I’m so over the Legendarium.” We all are, Layla. We all are.

- So Eldora is the fairy of flowers? Aka the previous Flora.

- A bit responsible? Yeah, guess who would have never found the Legendarium if not for her. And leaving it unprotected where it could find Selina was so incredibly stupid.

Part 2 is here.

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Emily!

Your application for George Weasley has been accepted. I feel like George is often a character who gets overlooked, or reduced to ‘twin and prankster’. You have definitely not done that, adding so much more to him in a realistic way that a war would. I’m very excited to have him around!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Emily, She/Her

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I am currently searching for a job, but that does leave me with some time on my hands for rping purposes! Trying to keep myself busy in a multitude of ways when the world is not helping y'know </3

ANYTHING ELSE: TW: rape, sexual assault

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: George Weasley

BIRTHDATE: April 1, 1978

DEATHDATE:  N/A

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY:  George identifies as a cis-man and uses he/him pronouns. He is fairly comfortable with these. George is hetero-romantic and asexual, although I would not say this is a term he understands or would use for himself. Whenever his friends would talk about their partners sexually, George would play along with the others, but definitely would look to change the subject as soon as humanly possible. It is simply not something he can comprehend about himself and he does best ignoring feelings that he may not yet understand. The only person he has ever even mildly revealed this to would be Fred, but George was not comfortable going into any major detail in regards to how he felt. At most it was an offhand comment here or there.

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

OCCUPATION: Shop Owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes

FACECLAIM: I think I am going back and forth on this and I am also terrible at these—I believe I was debating between Caleb Landry Jones or Luke Newberry. But I think I finally decided to go with Caleb!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

They say there are five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. They also say that time heals all wounds. George has found out that hard way that this is all a load of rubbish. What they don’t tell you about losing the most important person in your life is that you never fully stop grieving. You can’t heal. Because healing involves forgetting. A bouquet of flowers from his great aunt was nice, but it’s not going to make George forget and it’s not going to bring Fred back. And George has no idea how to keep plants alive, anyway.

It seems like most others have been able to move on; start families, or careers, but George can’t seem to get past it, and he forces himself to deal with his loss head on every day by working day in and day out at that store that haunts him. He sees Fred in everything; from the letterhead on his desk that still reads “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Proprieters Fred and George Weasley”; to the kids who come in and test the screaming yo-yo’s in front of him; or the mirror in the bathroom that is for employees only. He has buried himself in his work post the war, and quite literally expects to be buried in it.

While George will never fully get over the loss of his twin, he has since stopped having panic attacks in the bathroom and got a haircut, which he considers major progress. It has also helped that he has finally taken Ron up on his offer to help run the shop, which he realized he needed a long time ago, as the bills have piled up from all his discounts. [Happy to redact if Ron’s mun decides they don’t want to follow this plot!] He still snaps at his family more than he would like, but they know how suffocating they can be.

The news of the Returned may have been the happiest anyone had seen George in years. He cracked a joke and even went out of his way to visit his siblings, instead of making them come to him. To Hell with adjusting to his new life, he was ready. It seemed clear to him that those who died valiantly in the Battle of Hogwarts were returning—After all, if people like Professor Lupin and Lavender Brown were coming back, it was only a matter of time until Fred did too, right?

PERSONALITY: What are they good at? What do they struggle with? What are their strengths and weaknesses? 

Boys as loud as their hair, is what George heard Filch say about him and his brother once, and it lit up his face with a wide bright grin before he tapped Fred excitedly on the shoulder to share the good news. It was this unbridled optimism, this impractical belief that he could do anything that gave him the confidence and courage to follow his dreams. That, and having a partner by his side.

George was easy to get along with, because for most of his life his decisions had been made for him and all he had to do was saddle up and play along. Fred was always the one setting the wheels in motion, and George was grateful for that. He wasn’t shy by any means, but people just flocked to Fred, and by association George. They were known to light up any room they were in, and were always the first to enliven a crowd if it was too dreary for their liking. He liked having the same friends as his brother. He liked being a package deal. He knew Fred would always have his back so when he felt like he wanted to retreat, he knew Fred could carry a conversation or sort something in the shop without him.

Perhaps that’s why it’s been so hard for George to adjust to life on his own. Now all of that pressure falls on him and it feels overwhelming. He was never the business-savvy brother, leaving Fred to come up with price points while he worked on ideas for new products.

Now, it feels like half of himself is gone. Sometimes he feels like a body walking around and smiling because that’s what people are supposed to do, but the joy just isn’t there. The smiles are artificial now. He is trying, but few things can bring back that spark that his twin so easily transferred over to him.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: What was being part of their family like? How did they grow up? What values did their parents/family instill in them?

His parents instilled in him and all his siblings a love and joy greater than most, and George was grateful for that. The Weasley’s weren’t well off by any means, but that only bubbled the creativity in the twins, especially when it came to ways to cure their boredom. He remembers fond birthdays he shared with Fred where they made their own cake scream or spent an entire afternoon perfecting exploding snaps in their bedroom, much to the dismay of their parents. The Burrow was unkempt and chaotic, but George loved it, squeaky floorboards and all.

He hasn’t been back in years, purposefully choosing to close himself off from that space. He knows his mother isn’t happy with his choice and that guilt eats him up inside, but that shrinking feeling in his heart is better than the burning feeling he would get of seeing his brother’s hand on that clock. Still, George loves his family endlessly, even if he hasn’t done a very good job of showing it these last couple of years.

HISTORY: What was their life before the end of the war in ‘98 or before their death? What was important and formative for them?

There was a time when George thought that the worst thing that could happen to him was having to de-gnome the garden after flying a car underage. Then there was a time he thought the worst thing that could happen to him was losing an ear. George and his siblings grew up in a loving, but shabby home. He loved his siblings and knew they loved him, even if he and his twin brother were always pranking them. They were carefree, and they had each other.

Fred was the one who first suggested the two go into business, and George was always the first to agree with his big brother. It felt like a dream, leaving the drudges of school behind and spending all day doing what he loved with the person he cared about most. They never fought. They had been a well-oiled machine since birth, so it only made sense that their business ran smoothly. The one knew where the others’ strengths and weaknesses lied. Fred was better at bargaining and he didn’t care what color the walls were, like George did. Growing up did not seem like growing up, because he had a partner by his side.

George was the one who first brought up going back to Hogwarts. Given their proximity to the Order of the Phoenix and Harry, fighting alongside them was their only option. Additionally, George felt they owed Harry for helping them start their business in the first place. He will always believe that the cause they fought for was noble and right, but he sometimes wonders if the victory was worth the loss. He doesn’t spend much time with folks of his past. George doesn’t want to, but a piece of him resents Harry. He would never tell anyone, but he wonders if they hadn’t gotten so close, felt it was necessary to fight alongside him, if Fred would still be here. He wonders If he wouldn’t fall asleep alone at his desk every night curled into a ball; he wonders if he would ever make a new product instead of staring, detached at the efforts that just remind him of his brother.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I feel like finding a post-war trio era rp with a unique plot that is also para-based is me asking for too much, and yet here you are!! I have never explored Post-War George and I think his trauma is so fascinating and it could affect his life in so many different ways, as it already has. The addition of the Returned is asking for more ~angst~ and boy am I here for it :) In particular, I am interested in exploring the dynamics George has with his siblings especially, as I am sure some of them have very different reactions to him kind of closing himself off for a bit, and his guilt is obviously through the roof because of it. But also all characters tbh!!! I love for plotting out entirely too much backstory haha.

ANYTHING ELSE?  I made a mood board for George here! https://www.pinterest.com/ebateman64/ch-george-weasley/

And also some head canons!:

George has a hard time sleeping (he always has) but he actually enjoys sleeping in his office. The papers piled high, the Pygmy Puffs that squeak at night–the clutter and chaos actually feel like the most stable thing he has had in a long time. Immediately following the war, George stayed at the Burrow for a few weeks to be closer to his family, using it as an excuse to get any leftover stock that might still be in his childhood bedroom. But it was too troubling to sleep in that room. It was bare-boned, not only because he had taken most of his belongings, but because one of the beds was empty. After the first night, he slept on the couch in the living room instead.

While he barely feels the loss of his left ear these days, occasionally there is a ringing sound that fills his head and gives him migraines from the pain, major enough that he needs to lie down. This only happens occasionally, and he usually chooses to push through it by clasping his hand to his ear for a few minutes.

George actually used to care quite deeply about his appearance, however, that has definitely gone downhill in recent years. Some could say he is going to a “rugged” look, but it’s really just because he can’t be bothered to wash his hair. In the last couple of weeks, however, he has donned the old suit that he used to wear to work everyday. He can’t fill it out like he used to, but it gives him some semblance of hope.

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

The Other Shoe

(OOC: Mild content warning. WWX is spiraling here. No threat of self harm but dealing with severe risk of mental shut down)

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

I’m not ready to talk about this.

I don’t know. 

I should have seen this coming. There really was no other way this could end.

So the other shoe dropped. It just wasn’t on the foot I was expecting. 

I’m… I’m probably being dramatic. 

But I didn’t expect it to hurt this much. 

Maybe it was because I actually didn’t see this coming. At least not now. 

---

I’m okay if I’m not alone. But I can’t expect someone to babysit me.

I don’t mean like I’m gonna do anything to myself or anything….. But actually that’s the problem.

I’m not going to do anything. Nothing. Just like before.

That time too.. This was why…

I’m not ready to talk about this. 

But I have to talk about it. 

The day… I was so nervous but I was so happy. And at first it went so good. 

It was Jiang Cheng’s birthday, which meant it was going to be the opposite of mine. A fancy shindig. A how-to-do of the who’s who.

But for the first time in years his parents weren’t going to be there. Uncle Jiang was out of the country and Madam Yu was off at a charity event. Apparently Jiang Cheng and Shijie had convinced her not to cancel because the publicity would be better for her to be at the event than at his birthday. 

I haven’t been to one of these since… well since before I was kicked out even. They took me to some sometimes when they needed to use me as a prop to show how generous they were but it was never one I wanted to go to. And it was never his or Shijie’s birthdays. 

We’d hold our own parties anyway. Just the three of us off by the lotus ponds. Those… those were the best. We were happy. 

I bought a suit. It’s ruined now. But I bought one. I bought it with my own money. Not the birthday money. Can’t bring myself to touch that. I bought it with my own money. 

It’s ruined now. 

Sorry I already wrote that.

I bought it for the party. I didn’t want to be an embarrassment. I was finally getting to be with my family. My family. 

I’m an embarrassment. I tried so hard. But of course I ruined everything anyway. 

I’m nobody. Nothing. 

I should never have…. 

To think I thought I might actually find a place there. 

Not with the rich folks. I know that I won’t fit there. But with Jiang Cheng. In his real circle. In his real life. 

But I’m… I can’t be there. I’m a shadow on the sidelines of his life. Someone who just shows up and breaks everything. 

I’ve probably made things so much worse for him. 

I never should have gone to that party. I shouldn’t have answered when he called me. I shouldn’t have let him find me at all. 

All of the Jiangs… they’re better without me blackening their name. They didn’t really ask for me. They just needed a kid. Any kid would do. And they were unlucky enough to be landed with me. I should have stayed in the system. 

I should have run away.

I should have….

No no stop it. This is the spiral I’m trying to avoid! No Stop it!

-----

Sorry. Sorry. This is just… It’s not as bad as it was before. Before I had nothing. I have so much now. I have the Wens. And the Lan brothers. And new treasured memories with my siblings and my niece and nephew. Even if I probably won’t get any more. Even if… even if this is all I’ll get I’ll treasure each stolen moment. 

It’s not as bad as when Wen Qing found me. But it FEELS like it. Just… everything she said to me… everything is rushing back. And it’s just like it was before. 

But no it’s not. I’m not 18 anymore. It’s been 10 years. 11. I’m not some poor kid with no connections or money. I’m not alone. 

I’m not alone

I’m not alone 

I am not alone. 

I. Am. Not. Alone.

Keep saying it. Keep saying it. Remind yourself. Put it on a piece of paper. Paste it on the walls. 

I am not alone. 

I’m okay. I’m home alone. And it’s okay. I’ll post this so I can be okay. 

Even if I’m alone in my apartment it doesn’t mean I’m alone.  

I’m not alone. I’m not unloved. I’m not without family. 

I need to remember this now while I’m in the light so I can remember it in the dark. 

Okay. Okay. 

I bought a suit so I could go to the party. Jiang Cheng offered to buy one for me but I didn’t let him. He probably would have bought a nicer one, but I think I did an okay job. I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb at least. 

Everything started out so well. I got a lift to the place and managed to get myself inside with my own golden ticket. 

(Yes i know. Invitations to a birthday party. Legit invitation only access. Rich people are just like that™.

But I got in. And there they were. Jiang Cheng was looking smart in royal purple. Never have seen anyone who could pull off that color as well as him. Shijie was next to him in a lovely lilac dress to match him. She’d left her kids at home with her husband. I could see her baby bump. She looked stunning.

And they looked…. They were happy to see me. Jiang Cheng bumped my shoulder and said he was surprised I actually showed up and that he was afraid he’d have to collect me himself. 

I wanted to give him a noogie. Didn’t.

I wasn’t going to ruin this. 

I did anyway. But not yet. Not yet. 

Most of the party went fine. I mingled with some people. Lan Xichen was there. It’s always nice to see him. He’s so pleasant to talk to and seems at home with the mindless smalltalk. His poker face is on point. Nie Huaisang was there which was a very welcome sight after all the gold bars dancing around pretending they gave two shits about my shidi. I didn’t seek him out too much though. We always end up giggling and drawing attention when we’re together. I couldn’t afford to fuck this up. I was determined.

He seemed to understand. Huaisang, you’re a great friend. You really are. I’m sorry… 

Ugh. 

Okay 

It was all going smoothly even if it was a bit dull. There was some elevator music going on and like expensive champagne flutes being carted around. I didn’t take any even though I wanted to down the lot to try and calm my fucking nerves.

People were mingling. Mindless chatter. Meaningless pleasantries. Congratulations, Jiang Wanyin. To your health, Jiang Wanyin. All the Best, Jiang Wanyin. 

I wonder how many would have even remembered his name if it hadn’t been on the invitation. 

But I was doing well until the gold-painted cinder block parading as a gold bar showed up. 

JIn… Zi something. I refuse to remember his name. Jin ZiXuan’s shitty cousin. The one who makes the peacock seem like the greatest guy in the world to hang out with. The guy whose flunkies stabbed me. Captain Constipation himself. 

I managed to make it the first couple hours without bumping into him. Because of course he’d be there. All the great families were there and he is, unfortunately, pretty high up on the Jin food chain. 

It was almost dinner time. I know that. We were gonna be shuffling off to the dining room.I was headed that way when he slammed into me “accidentally’ spilling his drink all over me. It wasn’t champagne. It was something made to stain. My suit is ruined. That’s not important. 

He did some fake apology. Then started going off about he’s surprised I was there. Surprised I was let in with such a tacky suit. Didn’t know this event let in nobodies. 

I took it until he started going in on Jiang Cheng. Saying if he was willing to associate with the lowest of the low like me then what was he really worth. 

I tried. I wanted to just get past him but he wouldn’t let me. 

I got a bit more forceful but I wasn’t gonna hit him. I knew better. I wasn’t gonna hit him because that’s what he wanted. But I had to get past him. So I pushed a little. 

And apparently that was enough. He had a couple flunkies (Not the one that stabbed me) come grab at me, saying he was gonna press charges and that he was gonna have to burn his suit to get the poor off of it and that I needed to reimburse him. 

Something tore as I tried to get at him. I’d had enough. He wasn’t gonna let me go without a fight then he was gonna get his fucking fight. It didn’t matter anymore. The ruckus was starting to draw people back out from the dining room. He wasn’t exactly being quiet. And then neither was I. 

I just wanted to leave. That’s all I wanted to do. I wasn’t even gonna go to the dinner. I was just gonna text Jiang Cheng that something came up and thanks for inviting me and happy birthday and I was gonna go. 

But then

I hadn’t seen her in 10 years. 

She’s still just as terrifying.

Madam Yu. 

Jin Zixun let me go all of a sudden and I knew something was up. And then I heard him bow to someone behind me. All dignified respectability. And when I looked there she was. 

I don’t even know how she found out I was even there. 

She screamed at me. She always screamed at me. Jiang Cheng came out then at the sound of his mother’s voice. 

He tried to defend me. But there is no defence against Madam Yu. And she didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. 

I’m nothing but trouble. I cause pain and disruption wherever I go. I can’t help it. I’m a walking disaster. Eventually I find a way to ruin everything. I can’t even go to a party without someone I’ve managed to piss off finds me. 

I don’t know when to shut up. I don’t know how to behave. I am a spot on Jiang Cheng’s reputation. 

How dare I contact her son? How dare I take advantage of his kind heart. 

Jiang Cheng tried to defend me. 

It just made it worse.

Because I am a parasite. I take and I take and what do I have to give back? Nothing.

What can I possibly do to repay the kindness others have given me? Nothing.

Nothing I can do will be enough. I can’t pay back my debt. 

I’m only alive at all through the kindness of others and I repay them only with shame. 

She screamed and screamed but never raised her voice. She is too dignified for that. But all the same she was screaming. 

She found out that Jiang Cheng had got me my phone. She smashed it on the ground. 

She blamed me for trying to poison her son against her. 

Apparently… Apparently he had talked to her after he read my blog. I didn’t know that. 

I hadn’t meant for him to find out but he did. And they fought.

I’m just making things worse for the Jiangs. I’m just creating tension where there doesn’t need to be any. If I’d just stayed away… 

She told me….

She told me if I ever went near her son again she would file a restraining order. She told me that she would have me imprisoned if she had to. She told me that I was a disgrace.

I ran. 

I ran and ran.

I think I heard some people run after me. 

I was faster. 

I ran. 

Just like before I ran. 

Just like before. 

This was just like before. 

Why did I not see this coming? 

Jiang Cheng had to sell his apartment. He’s not allowed to come to Gusu for anything not directly related to business. 

He’s not allowed to see me. 

I’m not allowed to see him. 

I ran. 

I’ve made everything worse again. 

I thought it had been long enough. Jiang Yanli is successfully married off just like Madam Yu wanted. Jiang Cheng is following his father’s footsteps and he’s flourishing just like Madam Yu wanted.

I thought just… just one party would be safe. I see them so little. But it was too greedy. 

I’m always too greedy. 

I take. All I do is take. 

I have nothing worth giving. So I take and take and take. 

I… I ran home first. I think I took a bus but I don’t remember most of the trip. I don’t know how long I was there. I was starting to shut down already. It didn’t happen that fast before. It was more than just Madam Yu before. Before I was lost and alone and starving. I was sick. I had tried to fight for a long time before I started shutting down.

I’m so pathetic I can’t even handle a scolding now. I’m so weak. I’m not sick. I’m not homeless. I’m not alone. And still I can feel it looming. 

I’m afraid to be alone because if I slip back under I don’t know if I’ll come back out. 

I’m scared. 

I’m scared.

So I ran again. As soon as I realized what was happening I ran. 

I didn’t have a way to contact him. I just ran and ran and ran. 

I should have called a car. Or at least taken my skateboard. I didn’t think of it. I couldn’t think

I couldn’t think of anything except that I needed him. I needed to not be alone. 

So I ran. 

By the time I showed up at Lan Zhan’s house I honestly felt like I was dying. I could hardly breathe and there was a stitch in my side so sharp I almost felt like I’d been stabbed again. 

But that was good. That kept me aware. It kept me moving. It kept me from shutting down. 

I all but slammed on his door. He looked so shocked. He looked scared. 

I… I don’t really remember a lot of it. I know I was at the door and then suddenly I was in his lap on the couch. And I was sobbing like a baby. A graceless wail. Shuddering, jerking sobs. 

I don’t know how long I was there. I know we talked. I think I tried to tell him what happened but I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t think about it. 

I probably made no sense. Probably just scared him even more. 

I calmed down eventually. Somewhat anyway. Externally at least. 

He was so gentle with me. Even though I burst in on his night. Even though there had to be a million things he’d rather have been doing. Lan Zhan is so good. He’s too good to me. 

I don’t deserve it. 

He said something to me. I don’t remember anymore but I know I responded reasonably. But he was so gentle. I started crying again and he just let me. He comforted me. 

At some point he wrapped me up in a blanket and he put Suibian in my lap. That helped for a minute. She’s so sweet. She’s at least one creature in this world I can do something good for. Even if it’s just helping feed her and pet her where she likes.  

He left to make me some hot chocolate. Hot chocolate that he only has in his apartment because I like it. He doesn’t drink it.

I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve any of this. 

I don’t deserve anything.

I’m not worth it. Not worth it. 

I should have left but I couldn’t get myself to move. I think I was still petting Suibian. I don’t remember. I don’t… I don’t know what happened there but the next thing I was aware Lan Zhan was in front of me, looking slightly panicked. 

He said something but I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t respond.

He sat next to me and pulled me close. 

It helped. I started to talk

I tried to tell him what happened. I didn’t make any sense. 

He must have understood some of it though. He was shaking.

Was he angry? Did he agree with her? Did he finally realize how worthless I am? How I’ll only ever drag him down? 

He pulled away from me. Clearly he was disgusted. 

I panicked. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to be alone.

I begged him to stay with me. I was panicking. I didn’t know what I’d do if he left me then. I was so scared. 

Please. Please. Please. 

Don’t leave me alone.

“Not alone. Never alone. I promise,” he said.

He sat back down. And I sobbed again.

I cried and cried and cried. I think he held me again. I think I remember being on his lap.

I cried and cried and cried until eventually I fell asleep.

But sleep was okay. Sleep was safe. Sleep is a reprieve. I won’t stop if I’m asleep.

I’m afraid of stopping. Not of sleeping. Sleep was safe.

Especially with Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is safe. Lan Zhan keeps me safe.

Lan Zhan won’t leave me alone. 

He promised. 

I slept and slept and slept. 

I don’t remember falling asleep but I remember waking up in Lan Zhan’s bed. He was holding me. It was sunny outside. Peering through the window. 

Everything was fuzzy. My mind, my vision, my nerves. Everything was buzzing. My eyes were sore. My head was throbbing. 

Lan Zhan was there. He promised he wouldn’t leave me alone. Lan Zhan is safe. Lan Zhan is honest. Lan Zhan keeps his promises. 

Lan Zhan promised me I wouldn’t be alone. So I’m not alone. 

I twisted so I could bury my face in his chest. I could feel his strength under his sleep shirt. I could feel his heart beating against my skin.

Thump-bum. Thump-bump. Thump-bum.

I focused on that sound. 

He asked me what I wanted to eat. I could feel his voice shaking around in his chest.  I didn’t want to eat anything. The thought of it twisted my stomach. It made an unpleasant noise. I didn’t want to eat. I just wanted to sleep more.

Sleep was safe. Lan Zhan was safe. I was warm and secure. I just wanted to sleep.

But then he mentioned that Qin Su had made my favorite chocolate turnovers. 

ANd I realized

Work. We were late for work! I’d fucked up again. God Damnit.

I shot up. I couldn’t keep ruining things! 

Lan Zhan said that we didn’t have work today. That he’d had it covered. 

I told him he couldn’t just keep putting off work for me like this. 

He shook his head and repeated “Not today.” And then he looked at me and told me that it was a family emergency.

And… 

I think that broke me. 

It was too much. I do nothing but take but I couldn’t take this. I’d ruined one family already by trying to join it. I wouldn’t ruin him. 

I told him that we weren’t family. That I don’t have a family. 

I won’t have a family. I don’t want to ruin anyone else. 

I cried again I think. I don’t know for how long. I don’t know how I even had any tears left. 

He held me the entire time.

I cried. 

Eventually I ran out of tears again and even felt the knot in my stomach loosen enough that I thought I might be able to handle some food. 

Lan Zhan said he was gonna go get me something. I hadn’t eaten since the morning before. 

He got up to leave again. Because he can’t stay in front of me 24 hours a day. 

I know that

But I panicked again. 

I grabbed his arm. I just needed to make sure. Lan Zhan is safe, but I had to make sure. 

I asked him if he was going to come back.

He smoothed my hair away from my face and promised he would.

I nodded and forced myself to let go. He left for a moment. He just went down the hall. I could hear his footsteps. I sat there and listened. If I could still hear him I wasn’t alone yet. 

He came back quickly and dumped bunnies on the bed with me. Suibian and Bichen. 

It made me laugh a little. He actually got me to laugh. My chest felt lighter even for just that moment. 

Suibian curled up next to me right away. I had to coax Bichen over. She looked uncertain but eventually gave in. 

I laid on my side and she curled up against my tummy.

They helped. They helped for a little.

But…

I… My thoughts started to spiral again. I was slipping again.

I didn’t even realize Lan Zhan was back until all of a sudden he was holding me again.  I pressed closer to him. 

I wasn’t alone. 

I’m not alone. 

I’m not.

He told me he’d brought food. I eventually found the strength to sit up to eat them.

The chocolate turnovers that Qin Su made for me. One of my favorites.

I couldn’t taste them. But she made them for me. That wasn’t lost on me. She made them to make me feel better. 

I’m not alone. 

Lan Zhan pulled the hair tie out of my hair. Very carefully. And he started to brush my hair. I must have looked like a mess.

He was so careful and gentle. It felt so nice. 

He kept going even after he got all the tangles out.

I felt better. 

I thanked him for taking such good care of me but before I could finish that thought we hear---

JEEZUS FUCK. Sorry. There’s someone at the door??? Who would be here this late??

I’ll finish this later.

[thegreatsharkleve]

Elijah Post LFRP - Crystal data center

The Basics ––– –

Name: Elijah Post

Age: 28

Race: Midlander/Highlander

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Gay (but flirts with pretty much everyone)

Relationship Status: Sort of involved? (He will neither confirm nor deny there being a presence of embarrassingly soft feelings...)

Languages: Common, a rudimentary grasp of Doman

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Honey Blond and could definitely use a cut or a style… or a brush most days, to be perfectly honest.

Eyes: Amber – more a reddish-orange hue than yellow

Height: 5’6”

Appearance: He is an attractive enough guy: excellent jaw line, straight nose, striking eyes, long limbs, trim figure, and a charming smile. Unfortunately (for anyone who has to look at him) his fashion sense is … questionable at best. Most of his outfits consist of brightly colored, egregiously wrinkled shirts and pants that rarely make it past his ankles. He wears a lot of tacky jewelry, sunglasses inside buildings and most certainly at night, and there is a very real possibility that the only footwear he owns, besides a pair of fluffy pink slippers, are sandals – which he has, in fact, been known to wear with socks. Still, he carries himself with a lazy confidence that somehow makes his perpetual “I have just woke up in the middle of the afternoon” look seem more of an artful affectation rather than a cry for help.

One of the more notable things about him are his plethora of scars, with the most prominent being the one that runs diagonal across his face and the two sets of whorling burns along both shoulders – one creeping down over his right pectoral and the other running over the upper part of his left arm. His ring finger on his left hand is missing after the first knuckle (don’t ask about this one if you’re eating), and a long surgical scar runs vertically along his outer right forearm. Underneath his clothes are a smattering of healed bullet wounds and a few others of less identifiable origin, but you’re gonna have to buy him a couple drinks if you want to take a closer look.

Personal ––– –

Profession: Journalist – specifically a freelance field correspondent who specializes in conflict journalism and investigative reporting. When he’s between field work, he often picks up puff pieces with local papers, writing about the arts, sports, culture, etc.

Residence: No permanent listed address – currently renting a room at the Hidden Pearl in the Mists. He can usually be found sitting at the bar after he’s just rolled out of bed, having bacon twists and sake for breakfast (at 2pm).

Birthplace: Ul’Dah

Religion: Meh

Likes: Day drinking, people watching, writing, sleeping, animals, (tall men)

Dislikes: Bureaucracy, wealth disparity, national pride, bullies, snobs, being cold

Fears: Commitment, being emotionally vulnerable, people in mascot costumes

Personality: Elijah seems like a pretty easy going, even tempered guy for the most part. He has a languorous, lackadaisical disposition – meandering through life as though he never really has a place to be, and if he did, he isn’t in any particular rush to get there. With friends or with strangers he’s quick to smile or laugh or tell a joke, affable enough that people tend to trust him with pieces of themselves without noticing he offers very little of himself in return. He can come across as flippant or indifferent in conversation, and while he is rarely intentionally cruel, he has a habit of jamming his thumbs into people’s buttons. It’s very possible he is just incidentally annoying rather than consciously so. He likes to maintain plausible deniability on that front.

When working in the field Elijah becomes much more focused – he stands taller, moves with purpose, exchanging his usual countenance of a rumpled layabout for that of a seasoned professional. He has on more than one occasion put his own body on the line (and in the hospital) in combat situations, or when pursuing a lead. He will recount each scar, and his half missing finger, with a joviality that some folks find off putting given some of the more grisly details. This disregard for his own safety is likely one of the (many) reasons he has never gotten a full time reporting gig with any of Eorza’s major newspapers – that, and he has a habit of leaving journalistic impartiality at the door. It’s clear from his writing that he has a deep well of empathy for other people and admires underdogs who fight uphill battles for high minded idealism, even if he ultimately believes their sentimentality to be a little bit naive..

Relationships ––– -

Parents: His Mother has passed, but his Father is still kicking and perpetually disappointed in his son! Their relationship is… strained by not estranged?

Pets: His Chocobo Bixley – but really, that’s more of a buddy and stalwart feathered compatriot than a pet.

traits ––– -

bold your character’s answer.

extroverted / in between / introverted

disorganized / in between / organized

close minded / in between / open minded

calm / in between / anxious

disagreeable / in between / agreeable

cautious / in between / reckless

patient / in between /  impatient

outspoken / in between / reserved

leader / in between / follower

empathetic / in between / apathetic

optimistic / in between / pessimistic

traditional / in between / modern

hard-working / in between / lazy

cultured / in between / uncultured

loyal / in between / disloyal

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Has been known to chain smoke.

Drugs: The spice of life is trying anything and everything twice!

Alcohol: Probably too often on that front too..

Background information/ Potential RP Hooks? ––– – 

UL’DAH BORN AND RAISED: He lived most of his youth in Ul’Dah, haunting the less affluent areas of Eorzea’s grandest pile of rocks in the desert. His mother was an Ala Mhigan immigrant and his father just a simple Ul’Dah native who ran a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. His parents were very “hard work and sacrifice” types when he was growing up, giving away free meals to refugees and anyone who was hungry. They were well liked by those who knew them, veritable pillars of the community, for whatever that was worth in what was hardly a half step above a slum. His mother died a few years ago but his father still works in his run down little restaurant – lots of folks still recognize Elijah as his parent’s kid rather than for his own work. He has mixed feelings about it.

FREELANCE JOURNALIST WITH AN AXE TO GRIND: Elijah’s had work published in The Mythril Eye, The Harbor Herald, and The Raven. Because he has a reasonably good standing at these newspapers (and friendly relationships with some of the editors) he’s able to pick up the odd puff piece, op-ed, or political coverage gig in order to cover his expenses when he’s between larger assignments. In the past he has written some pretty incendiary pieces about Ul’Dah’s treatment of Ala Mhigan refugees, as well as a few pieces lambasting the noble houses of Ishgard and their complacency in the Dragonsong War and their collaboration with the corrupt Holy See, which has earned him a bit of a “reputation”. On the other hand, he is just as willing to throw himself upon the altar of journalistic tripe for a quick gil. If you have any tips or story leads you want investigated, Elijah just might be your man. If your character is involved at any of the major Eorzean papers, they might be acquainted.

CONFLICT REPORTING: Elijah has spent time in the middle of political unrest in Ishgard, covering Garlean incursions and skirmishes across the continent, and until recently he has been covering the ongoing issues in Othard. In fact, he’s only just returned from spending an extended period living with the resistance forces in Gyr Abania; and, he has some very strong opinions regarding the absolutely hacking edits The Mythril Eye made to his work before publication (without his permission). If your character was part of the fighting in Gyr Abania, Elijah might have spoken to them or went out into the field with them on occasion.

TRAVELING FOR WORK: Given the nature of his job, Elijah has visited most major cities while on assignment and has been known to interview common folks, political figures, travelers, military types -- anyone who will talk to him. If you've spoken to him in the past, your words might have ended up in print, for better or for worse (he has been punched in the face on more than one occasion, and he regrets nothing); however, he has never once burned an informant or lead that has come to him for help. He has enough of a reputation that folks (government and law enforcement sorts) might take to actively avoiding him.

OOC/Contact Information  ––– –

The Player: Becks | They/Them | 30+ | Atlantic Timezone | Canadian

Looking for: Long term rp connections, short term adventures, friendship, rivalry, romance, I’m open to pretty much anything!

I’m a 30+ year old player who is a little anxious and shy when it comes to meeting new people on the internet (hence playing an extrovert to drag me out of my shell) but I’m really excited to make new friends and rp connections!! As I said, I am up for anything, including walk ups when I am out and about, and this character is on the surface level a very chill and friendly dude! I am, however, also someone who engages with a lot of mature themes -- not just swearing, drugs and alcohol, but also heavier themes (the realities of class disparity and poverty, the human cost of war, trauma, etc etc)  that might not be everyone’s cup of tea. But!! I wouldn’t just throw it out there willy nilly, and I believe firmly in communication between players -- discussing boundaries and limits is very important, as well as trusting each other enough to speak up if either party is uncomfortable!   I am cool with my character being injured, but please check in with me before doing anything drastic that will result in something permanent (like maiming or... y’know, death). Also I am open to rping romance (or lack of romance but the bits that go with it) though this character is currently not up for shipping adventures. Just to be clear, I am not comfortable doing that type of role play with anyone that’s under 25, sorry! I'm in my early thirties, and it would just be weird for me. We can still be pals, I promise! Please only reach out to me if you are 18+ and your character is 18+ -- I am not comfortable interacting with minors.

All art on this tumblr is probably mine unless stated otherwise! <3 Contact: Message me here on tumblr, /tell Elijah Post on Balmung, and if we become friends I am up for discord handle sharing! :D

I am open to cross-world rp and rp outside of the game as well!!

Now that I’ve got this edited how I want it... Boosts appreciated! Always looking for more active blogs to follow/be friends with!! 

[divine17]

↳ FEEL YOU NOW | MASTERLIST

Fandom: Stranger Things

Request: N/A

Warnings: NOT proofread, Fem!Reader, maybe slightly OOC Billy, established romantic relationship, injuries from a physical fight, brief mention of weapons, a lot of swearing, kissing

Word Count: 2,411

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of Billy’s actions or words in the show. His canon views, the ones depicted in the series itself, are not my views nor are representative of myself. Any disrespectful messages/asks of this nature will be deleted and blocked. 

A/N: maybe slightly fluffy? if you squint? maybe?

On a typical Wednesday night, you could usually be found sitting on your bed, your half-finished schoolwork and thick textbooks sprawled across the mattress. Tonight was certainly no exception. With a big history test the following day, you had decided that it was a fantastic idea to cram as much as you could for as long as you could.. And hope something would decide to stick. You’d been there for at least a few hours at this point, and it was well past nine o’clock, you were sure.

It was the light sound of tapping against your window that made you finally look up from your work, your soft humming to a quiet Queen song suddenly ceasing. Billy. It was dark outside and you could barely make out the shape of his figure, but it was him. You were nearly certain of it.

Confused, you stood from your seat, quietly walking over to the glass. He leaned down slightly, revealing himself. Good God, he looked horrible. Gory slashes and cuts and still-forming bruises littered his face, the purple splotches beneath his eye and along his jaw particularly drawing your attention. His face was red, almost matching his slightly torn, half-unbuttoned crimson shirt. You unlocked the window quickly, raising it up to talk to him.

“Billy, what the hell happened?”

You were shocked, surprised, and probably sounded a little rude as you spoke, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care at the moment. Your boyfriend (well, only sort of) was standing at your window in the freezing cold Hawkins weather late at night with a busted mug. You hate better things to fret over than accidentally sounding rude.

“I... I didn’t know where else to go.” He confessed, his voice just barely above a whisper. His eyelids were heavy as his left eye swelled. Tired and angry, struggling to fully focus on you from the more-than-slight pain. “I’m sorry. It’s late, I know.”

“No, no, it’s fine... Come on.” You stepped away from the windowsill but offered your hand to him, gesturing for him to climb through. “Be easy. My parents are asleep downstairs.”

The blond boy nodded, swinging his leg over the sill and into your room. The other followed suit as you helped him into your bedroom— a first for the both of you. He had never snuck up here until now, surprisingly. Your mother was somehow okay with you having him in your room when he visited, just as long as you claimed to keep the door open or unlocked. Yet, she had never actually bothered to check, much to your pleasure.

But you could almost feel the butterflies in your stomach as you thought of what would happen if she walked in right now, looking over the two of you. The bloody, beaten, broken boy climbing through your bedroom window. His shoes wet with the Indiana summer rain and hair a mess, she would have a fit seeing her daughter holding his hand, pulling him closer to your bed. Luckily, everyone except you had gone to sleep rather early in the night, so the two of you didn’t have much of that to worry about.

As soon as he was safely inside, you closed the window again, pulling the curtains shut from any possible  prying eyes. Next, thoughtlessly, you began to pack everything up on your bed, not bothering to organize any of it. Papers in a messy stack messily shoved into your book bag, books in a stack on the floor. Billy didn’t seem to mind the delay. Instead, he looked over the trinkets on your nightstand, inspecting each item out of curiosity.

“Sit.” You demanded. With a pained grimace across his face, he obliged. His expression turned softer as he looked at you, drinking in the concerned look in your eyes. Something else lurked behind that, though... A warm emotion, but he couldn’t tell what. “Billy... what happened?”

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have showed up at my house at...” Your eyes flickered up to the clock on your wall, reading the time. “A quarter past ten at night. You’re covered in blood and bruises, so I’ll ask again. What happened?”

He grew slightly annoyed as you persisted, his fingers resting on his thigh beginning to tense. Yet, with a deep breath in, and out, he brought himself to relax once more. He was frustrated, residual anger from the fight still burning in his belly, but would never take it out on you. Never. Quick to calm himself down, always. 

Billy loved you so much, far more than anyone else in his life. More than any of his friends, his previous flings or fuck buddies, more than any of his family. You were his number one, always. His favorite person in the whole world, the one person he actually looked forward to seeing every day. Billy felt nervous when he thought of you, warm, soft, as completely and totally uncharacteristic as it was. He was a badass guy, a player, a one night stand who’d usually ignore you the next day. And here you were, so kind and passionate, the perfect girl, so beautiful and amiable, practically everything he wasn’t. 

The two of you shouldn’t have even gotten together in the first place, it wasn’t right, given how much of a polar opposite pair it was, but God... When he held you in his arms, curled into his chest with your arm loosely hung over his stomach, legs tangled together in bliss, nothing had ever felt more right to him. Billy loved you. Even if he wasn’t good very good at telling you that, he certainly did love you. And he showed you that in his own fucked up ways.

“Some guy was talking shit about you, Y/N. I put him in his fuckin’ place real fast.”

You sighed, tilting your head back in frustration. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten into some fight or another over you, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, sadly. You were sure of it. “How many times do I have to tell you, baby? Let them say whatever they want, it doesn’t fucking matter. You don’t need to justify their bullshit with a response.”

“They were calling you a slut! A whore! You don’t want to know what the fuck else they said, Y/N!” he said, his voice slowly rising as he neared the end of his sentences. His body grew tense as he spoke, nervous. You held out a single finger, a silent reminder of the noise level. “I can’t fucking stand by and listen to that shit. You don’t deserve that. You don’t goddamn deserve for them to talk ‘bout you like that, Y/N.”

You sighed heavily, looking back down at him below you, his big blue doe eyes meeting yours. Goddamn it. This stupid little fight could wait until later. For now, he needed to get cleaned up before the cuts got worse, before the bruises began to swell any more. 

“Let me fix your face up, alright? Then we can talk about this again when shit’s  calmed down a little.”

“Fix it, huh? Didn’t know somethin’ was wrong with it.. So nice of you to mention it now, babe.” He smiled softly, letting himself laugh lightly. The frustration and anger the two of you had previously felt seemed to melt away after his little stroke of humor. He always was good at that, much to your disbelief. He could make any situation less (or more, depending) tense, less upset if he wanted to. Charming in just the right way. 

You took a step closer to him, sitting down on the edge of the bed. And finally, he turned to look at you in the lamplight, revealing the extent of his injuries. A nasty gash across his cheek, several little cuts along the bridge of his nose. A splotchy, swollen deep purple and blue left eye, a slice along his jawline. It would leave a couple pretty gnarly scars across his perfectly smooth, tanned skin, you were sure. A few more for his little collection.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Stay here.” You said softly, standing from the bed. He nodded slightly, letting his eyes fall down to his hands again. And for the first time, you looked over them. His knuckles were busted, the dried crimson-brown color staining his skin, clinging to the silver ring he wore. Jesus Christ. You’d hate to see the other guy. Probably in a coma somewhere, or even worse, dead. You couldn’t even imagine...

Sneaking around your house was something you were oddly, and overly, familiar with. Whether it be because Billy is up in your room and you don’t want to draw attention (much like right now) or just because you wanted a midnight snack, you had practically perfected the art itself. Making as little noise as possible, footsteps undetected. Perfect.

You proceeded to tiptoe ever-so-lightly down the hallway and through the living room, making your way to the kitchen to get some ice and a glass of water. Next, the bathroom. With a small towel and the first aid kit in tow (he would need the whole damn thing, you were sure), you began to make your way back to your bedroom, silently hoping, praying, to sneak by your parents’ room unnoticed. A success, no thanks to anyone but yourself.

Billy was in the same place you’d left him when you returned, save for his bloodied shirt that was now peeled off of him and held in his lap. And once again, you sat down on the bed beside him. But this time, you began your work, starting by wetting the washcloth slightly, gently beginning to scrub the blood from his cheeks, forehead, hands. Next, you placed a butterfly bandage over the wound on his cheek, to which he winced, but remained silent. Washing the blood from his muscular torso, bandaging the cuts on his waist and carefully pressing ice to his eye and cleaning the rather large cut on his jaw, you couldn’t help but  finally ask him.

“Billy?” You quietly asked. He looked up to meet your eyes. “Why are you all sliced up?”

“Stupid bastard had a knife. Thought it would help him win, I guess.” He mumbled. You shook your head in silent disapproval. Of course he had a knife. Just Billy’s luck, isn’t it?

Any other time, you’d be giving him shit. A little lecture about picking and choosing your battles. That backing down from a psycho with a knife doesn’t mean you’ve lost, nor won; It simply means you just don’t want to be fucking cut up today. But after a moment of quiet thought, you decided not to bother. Billy was tired, you could tell. His eyes were half shut as you fixed him up, probably moments away from drifting off to sleep. No doubt he was emotionally exhausted, too. You wouldn’t put him through that right now.

“Baby, I need you to promise me that you’ll stop fighting. Please. For me, okay? I don’t want you to be hurt like this again.” You paused your actions, instead looking over the cloth in your hand. Dark grey, but now, there was an a dark reddish tint all over it. Some places deeper than others, some still the original color of the cloth itself. Billy’s blood. The other guy’s blood...

“It’s cause you’re my girl, Y/N.” The boy’s voice was low, a lurking sadness hanging over him. “They say that shit because you’re mine. They wouldn’t do it if you were with King Steve or some shit.”

“But I don’t want to be with King Steve. I love you, Billy, only you. you know that.” 

“I love you too, babe.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, and it wasn’t until you had finished cleaning him up that you finally spoke again. Standing from the bed, you stretched, yawning from tiredness. He watched as you took his shirt from him, placing it on the nightstand. You pulled open your nightstand drawer, retrieving a bottle of Tylenol. Popping off the lid, you handed two to Billy, along with a glass of water from earlier in the night. 

“Can you... Can you stay the night? Please?”

Billy nodded tiredly, a small, pleasant smile toying at his lips as he placed the pills in his mouth, swallowing them thickly, chasing them with a long sip of water. You brought your hands to loosely comb through his hair, pulling the tight curls out of his face. He was handsome, even like this. Covered in bandaged cuts and nasty bruises, he was still perfect. And he was yours. You were lucky enough to be able to call him yours. That still made you feel warm when you thought about it. The girl who was able to make the angry, wild playboy Keg King title-holder calm down for a while. 

Slowly, your hands moved to cup his cheeks as you leaned down to meet his level below you. At first, it was a hesitant, easy little kiss as he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours to close the heated gap between the two of you. But after a moment, as his hands rose from his lap and stumbled to find your hips, it grew more and more passionate, a little rougher. You smiled as his grip on your skin tightened, keeping you close. Your arms came to wrap around his neck, doing exactly the same. 

Soon enough, you pulled away for breath, though hungry for more. He laughed lightly as both of your holds on each other loosened, allowing him to stand up and begin to strip himself of his slightly wet, very cold jeans. You laid down on the small bed, waiting for the boy to follow your actions. And after a second, he did. He laid on his side, facing you, pulling a funny face just to watch you smile. 

And soon enough, you rolled onto your side, letting his strong arms snake over your waist. Billy pulled you close into his warm chest, his face buried in the crook of your neck comfortably. You couldn't help but smile lightly as you felt his hot breath against you, forever reminding you that he was there as you quickly began to drift off to sleep.

“I love you, Y/N.”

[sojourne]

Triple Threat

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Duncan Shepherd x Jim Mason x Reader

Plot: As happy as you were that your mother finally found herself a man, you were less than enthusiastic about your three new step-brothers, Michael, Duncan and Jim. They were loud, obnoxious, and unfortunately for you, extremely attractive.

It gets even worse when Summer break starts, and you four end up home alone for an entire week while your mom and their dad go on vacation. What are you four gonna do to pass the time?

The answer is apparently have a giant orgy.

Warnings: Alternate Universe (College), Alternate Universe (Step-Siblings), Step-Sibling Incest, Foursome, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Vibrators, Anal Sex, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Triple Penetration, Degradation, Dirty Talk, 

Notes: Hey, so for personal reasons I've decided to go completely fucking feral and write a bunch of nasty shit. Also I've never written for Jim before and I refuse to watch TToPV because I'm a big baby so if he's OOC, oops I guess lmao

Tag List: @divinelangdon @Kaigitana @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @icylangdon @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @langdonsinferno @bbyduncan 

Ever since your parents had gotten divorced, you had hoped that your mom would find someone new, someone to love her and cherish her the way she deserved, and to be a father figure to you in a way your real dad never was.

But when the time did come where your mom found someone, you suddenly found yourself quickly changing your mind about the situation. Your mother had found someone that was kind, loving and doted on both of you, giving you anything you had ever wanted, and it was almost perfect.

Almost perfect, besides the fact that you now had not one, not two, but three step brothers. At first you were excited, being an only child your entire life you thought it would be nice to finally have someone to be there to hang out with, to joke around and spend time with.

And then you actually met them. They were loud, brash, obnoxious and rude. Well, except for the youngest, Jim, but even though he was nicer than his older brothers, he was still a troublemaker and would never hesitate to throw a pillow at you from across the room or put a piece of ice down the back of your shirt when your parents weren’t looking.

Another problem was that you had lived relatively close to the college you were attending, and had decided to stay at home instead of living in dorms or getting an apartment. It was a perfect arrangement, until of course your step-brothers moved in. You were fairly well-off money wise, so everyone got their own room, but you still hated having to live under the same roof as them.

Especially considering they were all, much to your chagrin, extremely attractive. You couldn’t help but stare at them whenever one came out of the bathroom, soaking wet after a shower with nothing but a thin towel hanging low on their hips. Your bedroom was right across from the bathroom, so you had to see them like that a lot more than you wanted to.

Yet another issue was that your bedroom was smack-dab in between the two oldest brothers, Michael and Duncan’s rooms. Your house was nice, but the walls were still thin, and you could hear literally every sound coming from their room. You could hear them blasting their music loudly at all hours of the day (and night), you could hear them laughing obnoxiously at each other, you could hear them fighting with each other, and worst of all, you could hear them getting off.

At first, it had disgusted you, knowing that they were touching themselves literally right next door to you, but after a while you had gotten used to it and, as much as you hated it, started to like hearing them. You knew that realistically, it wasn’t exactly wrong, considering you weren’t related to them by blood and hadn’t even grown up with them, but you were still terrified by the thought of someone, especially them, finding out.

You had eventually gotten used to most of the boys’ antics, but as soon as Summer break started, and all four of you were home at the same time, it had gotten a infinitely worse. It was the very first day of Summer break and as soon as you came downstairs, shit was already hitting the fan.

Your parents were nowhere to be seen, Michael and Duncan were fighting, and Jim was trying to eat his cereal in peace, looking like he wanted to go back to bed already.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jim yelled after a strawberry flew across the kitchen table, landing in his bowl of cereal.

“Sorry man, I was aiming for Michael’s big ugly head,” Duncan explained, Michael had scoffed loudly and, by the look of pain on Duncan’s face, kicked Duncan under the table. You rolled your eyes, shuffling into the kitchen and opening the cupboards, looking for something to eat.

“Oh, the princess has finally awakened from her slumber,” Michael said dramatically, smirking when you turned and glared at him over your shoulder.

“It’s Summer break, shouldn’t you morons be off having fun somewhere? Bothering someone else that’s not me?” You asked, not even turning around to look at them as you continued digging through the cupboards.

“Nah, this is way more fun,” Duncan said, tossing a strawberry at the back of your head. You sighed loudly as the fruit fell to the floor, rolling under the counter. You bent down to pick it up, knowing that if you didn’t no one else would and it would just rot.

You yelped in shock when you suddenly felt a light swat on your ass, immediately standing up and whirling around, face burning and eyes wide. Duncan was staring at you with an obnoxious grin on his face, and you immediately knew it was him.

“Duncan, what the fuck?” You hissed, the brunette chuckling before turning back to his breakfast.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he mumbled, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

“You’re disgusting, we’re supposed to be siblings, so fucking act like it,” you muttered at him, still glaring at him.

“Oh, are we? That doesn’t seem to stop you from staring at us when we come out of the bathroom after a shower,” Michael said smoothly, eyeing you. Jim merely sat there, watching you three fight.

You felt your cheeks heat up even more, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Yeah, well at least I don’t spend all night jacking off and moaning. You and Michael know I can fucking hear you, right?” You yelled at Duncan, the man in question biting his lower lip an attempt to stop laughing.

“Yeah? Did you never get the memo that jacking off is a good stress reliever? You should try it some time, maybe after cumming a few times you’ll relax and stop being such a stuck up bitch,” Duncan said smugly before turning away.

You groaned loudly in annoyance, choosing to ignore him as you finally found some cereal, pouring yourself a bowl before sitting down at the table next to Jim, wanting to be as far away from Michael and Duncan as possible.

Apparently they weren’t done bothering you yet, though, as Duncan looked up from his food, smirking at you.

“When was the last time you came, anyways? You’re so pissed off lately, I think it might help,” Duncan said, Michael chuckling as he saw your pissed off and flustered expression.

“Th-that’s none of your buisiness!” You hissed, narrowing your eyes at the two men sitting across from you. Michael gave you a sympathetic look, and at first you thought he was going to say something kind, but those thoughts were quickly dashed as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Dear, do you even know how?” he said, Duncan slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. Meanwhile Jim just sighed softly, rubbing his temples, very clearly agitated with you and his brothers’ bickering.

“Of course I fucking know how, jackass,” you said, taking a bite of cereal and glaring at him.

“It’s okay if you don’t, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Michael said, giving you a sarcastic smile.

“Why are we even talking about this? Why does it matter?” you ask, Duncan and Michael shrugging.

“How else are we supposed to entertain ourselves while mom and dad are on vacation?” Duncan asked, causing you to pause.

You stared at the two men in front of you, blinking in confusion.

“What do you mean vacation?” you asked nervously, eyes darting between the two.

“Yeah, they were gonna tell you but you didn’t get up early enough before they left for their flight, they’re gonna be gone for like a week,” Jim said through a mouthful of cereal, shrugging.

“Why am I just now hearing about this?” You ask in agitation, looking between the three men.

“Cause you slept in late, dummy,” Jim said, yelping when you kicked him under the table.

“Fuck, I’m done with this, I’m going back up to my room,” you huffed, abruptly standing and retreating from the kitchen, trying to ignore their laughter. You immediately went back up to your room, slamming your door and flopping down onto your bed.

You couldn’t believe that your mom never even mentioned that she was going somewhere, leaving you alone, at home, with those three idiots. You groaned, rolling over and burying your head into the pillow, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

At this point you weren’t even upset with them, you were more upset with yourself for letting them get to you like that. You could barely even comprehend that you were just talking about masturbation with your trio of hot step-brothers, your face heating up as you remembered their words, the way Michael and Duncan stared at you as they asked you when you had last cum.

You huffed, rolling over again to stare up at the ceiling. You hated how much you were affected by their words, how flustered you got, how wet it made you to hear them degrading you like that. One of your hands absentmindedly slid down over your chest before moving down to your stomach, brushing over the hem of your pants.

You looked around the room, biting your lower lip. You figured that they would either be downstairs all day or maybe even leave to go hang out with friends, so you felt relatively sure that they would leave you alone for the rest of the day, or at least until dinner time.

You sighed, having made up your mind. You rolled over, yanking open the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pulling out your vibrator, taking one last look at your closed bedroom door before you reached down to tug off your shorts and underwear, exposing your lower half completely.

You flicked the device on, comforted by the soft hum it made as you trailed it down, gently swiping the tip across your entrance. You sighed, resting your head back on the pillow and reaching up with your other hand to tug your shirt and bra up, before cupping one of your breasts in your hand, tweaking the nipple while you drug the vibrator against your entrance, teasing yourself.

You moaned softly when you finally brought the toy up to press against your clit, hips bucking as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You continued pinching and twisting your nipples with one hand while the other rolled the vibrator over your clit, occasionally moving it down to tease your entrance.

You tried to think of someone else, someone from college, a hot celebrity, anyone to get your mind off of your step-brothers but every time you tried your thoughts immediately came back to them, imagining them pushing you down onto the bed, their cocks rutting into you and the dirty things they would say to degrade you.

“Please, Michael, Duncan, Jim, please,” you panted breathlessly, now fully immersed in your fantasy as you bucked your hips upwards, seeking more pleasure as you reached down with your free hand to press your fingers against your entrance, gasping as you finally realized how wet you were.

You whimpered as you quickly shoved two fingers inside, curling them up to try and hit that spot that made your body tremble. You spread your legs further, grinding your soaked cunt against your hand, wanting to feel your fingers as deep inside as possible.

Just as you were about to cum, you heard a soft chuckle coming from your doorway, immediately snapping you out of your fantasies as you stopped, looking up to see Duncan, Michael and Jim standing in your doorway, staring at you.

“Well look at that, she really does know how to get off,” Duncan murmured, and you immediately squeaked, turning your vibrator off and pulling your blankets up over your body, panting as you stared at the three men who were staring at you hungrily.

“Wh-what the fuck are you doing in my room?” You asked, trying to ignore the way all three of them were looking at you.

“Well, Jimmy here came up to go to the bathroom when he heard some interesting noises coming from your room,” Duncan explained, taking a few steps towards your bed.

“Said noises included you moaning like a bitch in heat and saying our names,” Michael said, moving towards the bed along with Jim, all three of them now standing in front of you, staring at you with smug looks on their faces.

“It’s-it’s not what it looks like, I was just…” you mumbled, looking away out of embarrassment, not wanting them to see how turned on you were.

“You were just what? Moaning your step-brothers names while you pressed that little toy up against your pussy? Even after scolding us earlier, telling us that we’re your siblings, so we should act like it?” Duncan asked, crawling onto your bed slowly.

You whimpered softly, pressing yourself down into the mattress as he leaned over you, staring down at you.

“Cause Y/N, good little sisters don’t touch themselves while thinking about getting dicked down by their brothers,” Duncan whispered, his face now inches away from yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a shaky breath, turning away from him and trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to his filthy words.

“If you don’t want us here just tell us and we’ll leave and never bother you again. But I don’t think that’s what you want, is it Y/N?” Michael chimed in, smirking down at you. You looked between Michael, Duncan and Jim before swallowing the lump in your throat, licking your lips.

“I don’t… I don’t want you to leave,” you said softly, barely loud enough for them to hear. As soon as he heard you they were all on you like wild animals, Duncan yanking the blankets down and grabbing your legs, keeping them spread open while Michael and Jim crawled onto the bed, grabbing at your tits.

You moaned in surprise as you felt Duncan run his hand against your cunt, pressing two fingers inside of you and curling them towards him, hitting the spot you were struggling to reach earlier. You fell back against the bed, gasping and whimpering as he started a harsh rhythm, finger-fucking you roughly as Jim leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, nipping it gently with his teeth.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for us, Y/N? Let us fuck you nice and hard?” Duncan growled down at you, smiling in satisfaction when you quickly nodded your head, still grinding your hips up against his hand.

“I wonder if you could take all of us at once, hm?” Michael purred, his hand still massaging your breast and tweaking your nipple. You groaned, biting your lower lip as Jim continued suckling your other nipple, occasionally biting at it gently.

“I can- fuck- I can try,” you mewled, Michael smiling down at you before sliding off the bed, making you whimper at the loss of his hand on your chest.

“In that case, I’ll be right back,” he said, quickly exiting the room and disappearing down the hallway. You moaned loudly as Duncan’s thumb suddenly pressed against your clit, the brunette sliding a third finger inside of you at the same time Jim leaned up, pressing a sloppy kiss to your neck.

Michael soon came back, holding a bottle of lube in his hand. He crawled back onto your bed, helping you tug off your shirt and bra before moving to sit behind you.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby,” Michael said, chuckling at the way you whimpered when Duncan pulled his fingers out of your cunt. You quickly moved into position, biting your lower lip and glancing at him over your shoulder.

Michael flipped the cap open, squirting a decent amount of lube onto his hand and rubbing his fingers together before moving them to your ass, pressing against your tight hole. You jumped slightly at the cold and foreign feeling, shuddering as one of his fingers pressed inside.

Duncan moved out of the way so that Jim could take his place in front of you, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours to distract you. You moaned into his mouth as Michael pushed his finger past the tight ring of muscle, making you let out a high pitched moan into Jim’s mouth.

“That’s a girl, just relax for me, let your big brother take care of you,” Michael purred, beginning to thrust and twist his finger around inside of you. You moaned, a shiver running through your body at the fact that he called himself your brother. You knew they weren’t actually your brothers and weren’t related to you, but knowing how taboo this was caused your cunt to clench, wanting something inside of it.

You groaned as he slowly pushed in a second finger, Jim swallowing your moans and whimpers as he pressed his tongue into your mouth, Duncan reaching over to tweak and pinch one of your nipples. Michael scissored and spread his fingers inside of you, chuckling when you pressed your ass back against him.

“Eager little slut, are we?” Duncan purred, giving a particularly hard pinch to your nipple that made you squeak. Michael eventually inserted a third finger, trying to be as gentle as possible as he worked your ass open. You whined, feeling a strange full sensation as his fingers reached deep inside of you, making your body shake.

Michael thrust his fingers in and out of you a few more times before applying more lube, working it inside of you before finally pulling his fingers out, causing you to whimper at the loss. Your stomach clenched anxiously as you heard Michael begin undoing his belt buckle, sliding it off before kicking his pants and boxers off, tossing them to the floor.

“C’mon, sit back on my lap,” Michael said, gripping your hips and pulling you back towards him. You broke away from your kiss with Jim, panting as Michael lifted you up effortlessly, holding you above his length. You whimpered, looking down at his cock with wide eyes.

“A-are you gonna fit?” You whined, Michael chuckling in response.

“You’re a good little whore, I’m sure you can make it work,” Duncan groaned, palming himself through his pants. You whined as you felt the head of Michael’s cock pressing against your hole, before slowly pressing inside.

You shifted around uncomfortably as he slowly entered you, whispering encouragement’s into your ear as he slid you down onto his cock. You whimpered at the foreign sensation inside of you, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you tried to get used to it.

“Atta girl, take his cock,” Jim muttered, licking his lips and staring at you in awe. Michael groaned as he finally bottomed out inside of you, panting against your neck.

“How’s she feel, Michael? Tight?” Duncan asked, starting to unbuckle his pants.

“Like a fucking vice,” Michael growled against your neck, grinding his hips against you and making you moan. As Duncan worked on getting undressed Michael slowly pulled out, before lowering you back down onto his cock. You whined, leaning back against him and nuzzling into his neck, Michael chuckling.

“Clingy little thing, aren’t you?” Michael mumbled, continuing to pump his hips against your ass in a slow rhythm, letting you get used to the feel of his cock sliding in and out of you. You gasped when you suddenly felt Duncan’s hand on your legs, spreading them as he moved himself into position, his heavy cock pressing against your cunt.

“You gonna be a good little slut and take both of us inside? Let us fuck you open?” Duncan asked, staring down at you. You nodded, spreading your legs as far as possible as Michael pulled most of the way out.

You groaned when Duncan pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing it inside. You whined loudly at the added pressure, your eyes fluttering closed as Duncan slowly slid into you, making you feel fuller than you’ve ever been.

You moaned loudly when Duncan suddenly pushed forward, sliding his entire cock into you in one thrust. You panted, whimpering and grabbing the bedsheets, overwhelmed with the pleasure of having both of them inside of you at once, filling you completely.

“Fucking shit, you’re so tight,” Duncan growled, his hips twitching up against yours. They started a slow rhythm, Michael mostly staying still as Duncan began pumping his hips against you, pulling out halfway before slamming back inside.

“What do you think your mom would say to this, hmm Y/N? Knowing that her little girl was letting her step-brothers split her ass and her cunt open on their cocks?” Michael growled, gripping your hips tightly as he moved you up and down his cock, Duncan still buried deep inside of you.

“She- she would probably say the same thing as you dad, if he found out his sons were balls deep in their step-sister,” you taunted back, Michael and Duncan growling in response.

“Jimmy, why don’t you come over here and shut our sisters filthy mouth up with your cock, yeah?” Duncan asked, not even sparing Jim a glance, too caught up in the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing around him.

Jim quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, kicking them off before moving towards you, kneeling down on next to you and gripping your hair, turning your head to face him. You whimpered as he pressed the head of his cock against your lips, the tip already leaking precum.

“Open,” Jim groaned, gripping your hair in one hand and his cock with the other. You opened your mouth, staring up at him and groaning at the dark look in his eyes.

“F-fuck, that’s a good girl,” Jim gasped loudly as you took him inside your mouth, your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock as you began bobbing your head, the feeling of Duncan and Michael pounding into you enough to distract you from the need to gag.

You were completely overwhelmed with pleasure, whimpering and whining as the three men used you, fucking into you and spreading you open for them, their cocks pulsing and twitching inside of your tight heat.

“Fuck, she’s gonna cum soon, I can feel her cunt clenching around us,” Michael groaned, his thrusts growing sloppy. Duncan nodded, continuing to pound into you, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Is that right, whore? You gonna cum on your big brothers cocks?” Duncan taunted, reaching up to twist and pinch one of your nipples, eliciting even more whimpers from your throat. Jim groaned at the feeling of your whimpers and groans around his cock, your throat fluttering around him as you tried your best to breath through your nose.

You nodded frantically as best you could, bobbing your head against Jim’s cock and grinding your hips down against Michael and Duncan, wanting them to be as deep inside of you as possible.

“Dunc, use that,” you heard Jim groan breathlessly, motioning to something behind you that you couldn’t see. You heard Duncan chuckle, felt him move slightly to grab something before you felt the vibrator you had been using earlier pressing against your clit and switching on.

You immediately cried out, your orgasm hitting you like a wave as you tensed up, shaking as you clenched around them, leaning forward to take as much of Jim’s cock into your mouth as you could.

“Fucking shit!” Jim growled, gripping your hair and fucking his hips against you as he spilled himself down your throat, his hips twitching. Michael and Duncan came soon after, groaning loudly and cursing. Michael bit your neck harshly to muffle his moans, Duncan biting into the other side, panting as his hips snapped against yours, he and Michael’s cocks pulsing and twitching inside of you.

Jim pulled out of your throat, allowing you to finally take in a breath of air. He slumped down onto the bed, panting loudly. You whimpered as Duncan and Michael finally pulled out of you, making you feel strangely empty. Both of them flopped down onto the bed next to you, completely worn out.

You all sat in silence for what felt like hours, before Duncan finally spoke.

“So how long are mom and dad gone? Like a week?” He asked, still trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” Jim muttered, glancing over at Duncan.

“Well, that gives us plenty of time to dick down our pretty step-sister,” Michael murmured, running his fingers through your hair. You snuggled closer to him as Duncan slung his arm over your stomach, effectively trapping you between them.

“I guess them going on vacation isn’t such a problem after all,” you mumbled, all three of them chuckling.

This was gonna be a long week.

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, ROSEY! You’ve been accepted for the role of THE HIGH PRIESTESS with the faceclaim of SOO JOO PARK. The High Priestess fits you like a well-tailored glove, ma’am, I must say that. Levana is a fascinating study in what occurs when you let Necromancy take root without letting it fully control you. This application very much made me feel like a student of Levana’s, someone who could look up to and admire her while also trembling at the power she dragged along behind her. The human elements were there, yes, but it became clear by the end of the application just who Levana was: a frame, a shell, a portrait of a woman in the middle of decay. She’s cold and merciless and starving, and I can’t wait for her to meet the dashboard.

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

THE HIGH PRIESTESS APPLICATION

- OOC -

NAME: rosey

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 23? i think?

TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL:  PST area and i don’t even know...i think i can put out 3-4 replies a week, although i do take breaks sometimes just to keep myself refreshed and going! so i think my activity could be a 7/10

ANYTHING ELSE?: ty for taking the time to read the app !! uwu please feel free to throw it in the garbage disposal BECAUSE IT’S TRASH

-  IN CHARACTER-

TW: Death, child death, dark themes, and abuse throughout the application

SKELETON: The High Priestess

UPRIGHT

Intuition  -- She has always had a remarkable intuition, knowing exactly how to pull and tug at minds and heartstrings. And so too has she always trusted in the way that she works her magic, in the way that she pulls and weaves the energies of the world to give life to once-beating hearts. Her intuition has always been her greatest asset, as though the Undying God herself has granted it to her and made it a blessing greater than her powers.

Sacred knowledge -- From a young age she understood her place in the world and why the Undying God had placed her upon it. There was a certain surety that came from understanding the Beginning and the ever-looming End, the tale of the wolf, the serpent, and the folly of man. How the birth of the Undying God came to be. Her parents looked at her and were jealous of the daughter that they had, of the age-old look in her eyes and how ignorant she made them feel.

Divine Feminine -- A divine woman is one who is circumspect in all things, tying together intuition, compassion, empathy, and inner wisdom. And at one time, she did have empathy for her fellow man -- for each person who sweated, bled, and ached as she did. But the ability to commiserate is no longer an option to her, but that does not taint her very intimate understanding of the plights of others because, at one point or another, it is likely she has felt such things herself. Having lived the life of man three times over, how could she not?

Subconscious Mind -- It’s in her dreams that she feels closest to them, the Undying God. There have been times where she swears she can hear their voice, and feel her touch. But then she wakes and the voices fade to whispers, which fade to breezes, which fade to nothing more than a melancholy silence. Every time she wakes and finds herself conscious, she wishes to hold a wake and mourn the loss of being so close to something so divine. But, as she wakes, that hunger comes for her again, and her subconscious mind is eclipsed by that yawning hunger for power once more.

REVERSED Secrets -- She keeps too many of them. Hoards them hungrily, like a bear dragging one poor doe after the other into its den to gorge on before the long winter comes. She keeps them even when she knows that they are of no use, even when she knows that they’ll die with her and none shall ever be able to taste the potency of their sweetness on their lips. Maybe it’s because she thinks she’s given too much to the world at this point in her life -- and these are the only things she can think of to call hers and hers alone.

Disconnected from Intuition -- It happens when she begins to perform resurrections that drain more from her and those around her. The weeks that follow leave her disconnected from herself, leave her tormented by her own silence. Her eyes shift around the room, trying to linger on a face that would give her that familiar pull in her gut, that certainty in her soul. But she’s left adrift in an ocean of quiet, and she has no choice but to lean on her logic and reasoning, to deduce until she can be as certain as she can be. All she has is her intuition and that, too, is slowly dying.

Withdrawal & Silence -- At a young age she became very adept at withdrawing into herself, at slipping into shadows. She realized that biting at the hands that sought to strike her only ended up in her getting hit harder. That raising her voice only ended up leaving her hoarse from her sobbing and tears. As all things in life, this means of survival was learned and it was a more difficult lesson to swallow. But after living two lifetimes, she realized that it was difficult to feel pain when you’re made of nothing but hard, unmoving stone.

NAME: Levana Morrigan Morrell

LEVANA Being given the name of a dead thing was perhaps the most ironic prelude to her story. Being forced to act as they would have expected her sister to, the most cruel. Her mother never missed the chance to tell her how beautiful her older sister would have been, with her wide, dark eyes and sweet disposition. Even though her sister never lived past the second summer of her life, she was the one that was meant to bring them out of their destitute life. What a disappointment then that the namesake had to be given to a child that was far less capable-- according to her mother -- of gaining such a future. To which her father would sagely nod his head, watery, large eyes blinking at her sorrowfully as she sat at the rotting table, cheeks burning as she pushed her food around. She forgave them for it, though. After all, Death could rob people of their ability to love.

MORRIGAN It’s the name of her rebirth. It’s the name that she gave at the Temple, the name that she would give at courts when bestowing them with the great gift of her presence and knowledge. Sometimes used in place of Levana, other times attached to it. Nevertheless it was a name that would forever remind those who had bore witness to her power  the Undying God had blessed her with. It was the name that was tied to the image of a woman bent low over the corpse of a wolfhound, teeth bared, eyes as dark as the coal that she smothered around her brow. Then the wolfhound’s teeth bared, like hers. It’s eyes opened, like hers. And soon Death gave way  to Life, just as Levana gave way to Morrigan.

MORRELL -- NO LONGER USED/RECOGNIZED A name that was never meant to make something of itself, and a name that never would. Her father, whenever he was in his drunken stupors, would always remind her that the Morrell name was cursed and that she was  the culmination of its disappointments. The words would slide off of his lips, the slurs a true  litany illustrating her uselessness and shame. There was no use in taking the bottle away, though, not until it slipped out of his grasp and rolled onto the floor. Now, though, she never bothers to acknowledge her surname. Why should she, when they know her as Levana the Necromancer? She had promised to let the Morrell name die with her, and it did. It died with her the moment she put breath into the life of the first corpse that was laid at her feet.

FACECLAIM: Soo Joo Park Marquita Pring Golshifteh Farahini Freida Pinto Inbar Lavi

AGE: 220 years old

DETAILS: You have not always been power-hungry. It was from the very first line that I think I fell head-over-heels in love with her. She has so much power held within the palm of her hand but the cost has been so very, very great. When you read about the necromancers all you can really see is their power and glory of the title, the High Priestess being a force within herself, gaining the ear of a king, the power of a God, the reverence and awe of so many more. But there is such great weakness and pain that comes from holding power -- and it’s reverberated within every single aspect of the High Priestess. She’s suffered such great loss and the most tragic part is that she can’t even grieve it because that ability, too, has been stolen away from her.

I feel like...in general, people might think of a character like her -- old, withering, so close to death as someone boring. What is there to do with a character like her? What does she have to live her? But that’s what I love so much about her. She’s seen so much, has been through so much and she’s jaded by every single thing in the world. She’s lived for so long, what’s to keep her from doing what she wants and saying fuck all to everyone and everything? There’s a motivation that’s keeping her from completely letting loose on them all. Perhaps it’s the mere love of the long game but I think it’s because, at her core, she’s a giver and she wants to leave some semblance of good -- what she defines as good -- in this world.

BACKGROUND:

It’s an unfortunate thing, to carry the legacy of a ghost before you’ve even taken your first breath. Her parents were never able to really let go of dead things, though. Their marriage was long dead before they even tried for their first child, the love that they had once had for one another before even that. They held onto their dead ideas and dreams just as they had held onto the memory of their first daughter years after she was buried six feet beneath the dry soil of the summer ground. A famine had swept through their country and Levana’s poor sister had never stood a chance, despite the prayers that had been offered up by the Morrells time and time again.  The last vestiges of their hope for something living had been placed on Levana and even when she had been placed into her mother’s arms, howling and red-faced, it hadn’t been enough. Where her sister had been a thing of beauty, she was a shock of white hair and sharp edges -- looking like the corpse that her sister very much had been.

The irony of it all was not lost on her. It was perhaps why she had such a wry, dry sense of humor despite how tragic it actually was. In the face of fate’s cruel humor, she couldn’t help but laugh along with it. She still had air in her lungs, a brightness in her eyes and a smile so bright that the moon had no choice but to look on in envy. When her mother would bite and spit at her, she would simply turn her gaze the other way and go out to the fields once more - either to lay in the wheat or lounge upon the back of their old, weary work-horse. As the sun would shine upon her pale, ivory skin she was more than content to let it eat away at her, all too happy to live a life of ease, if it only meant that she not bother the world with her existence and it not bother her with its woes and tragedy. Levana had disappointed her parents enough, there was no need to disappoint the rest of Tyrolhm by imposing her useless heap of skin and bones, her cutting mouth and staunch moralities.

When she wasn’t blissfully sketching away with a bit of charcoal stolen from the hearth or wrestling another bottle out of her father’s hand, she always managed to corral the kids of the neighboring farms into grand, elaborate games. She was always the leader, the one who set the rules, who dictated what was fair and what wasn’t -- just as she was always the one to clean up the scrapes and bruises of her comrades, whether they “fight for the king” or not. Even when she ruled with an iron-fist it was clear that she was soft around the edges, forever armed with a warm smile and a bawdy joke that would have made her mother balk and her father grab the broom to smack her with it.

What a lovely childhood she had. She wished she could remember it, now. She wished it had lasted longer.

The days of playing games of mages and holding mock-court were long behind her. The reality of her inability to be anything more than a farmer’s daughter was beginning to make the Morrell household a rather suffocating place to be. Too odd-looking to marry off, not savvy or competent enough to hold the land and keep it to herself. There was no profit to be made in caring for the children of the countryside or teaching the war-ravaged and orphaned creatures how to find joy in capturing the smile of another in charcoal, or coaxing them into sweet sleep with tales of pirates and warrior women. No man wanted a woman so useless. No family wanted to pay a dowry for useless little Levana who could only offer a shining -- albeit impish -- smile. The only suitor that had come knocking had left in quite a hurry when he realized how strong-headed she could be, how sharp her tongue was and how her eyes seemed to see right through the facade of gentility and courteousness. For the umpteenth time in her life, she had been sent to bed with an empty stomach -- though, throughout the night it had been full of laughter at her suitor’s expense.

Not long after, on the night of her 20th birthday, when her parents were ready to sell her to the most ill-reputed house in Tyrolhm that was furthest away,  the Undying God decided it was high time that the blessings they had placed upon her be brought into the light -- the revelation of her abilities shining unabashedly in the bright, spring sun.

Her little gaggle had all grown and had children of their own or moved to have adventures across the Sahrnian sea. Some of them even became clerics at the Temple, while she was all too content to take each day as it came, toiling away at the dying soil, listening to the bickering of her loveless parents, frequenting the markets and listening to the songs of bards that were passing through. Levana had taught the children of the countryside her games -- telling them tales of the glorious adventures she and her friends had when they were in the golden years of their childhood. Wars raged while wielding sticks in the place of swords, and pieces of barks as shields. One of the girls had stumbled into the stream -- its waters tumultuous and high from floods that had come from the melting winter snow. The fretful, panicked hands of the small children tugged at her skirt, pulling her from her place beneath the shaded tree, voices high and weeping as they tried to pound life into little Errena’s chest.

That was the first time Levana could recall giving everything.

That was the first time Levana could remember trying.

She remembered peering up through the leaves, watching them sway in the light breeze. Years later, she knew that it was the last time she had ever known the meaning of peace.

Untrained and reckless, she had poisoned the earth that was there -- and because it hadn’t been enough, she had poisoned something within herself as well. The grass had grown black beneath her fingers, parched and dry as though it had never known green days. She remembered the cries of horror from the children as they had watched her body bow over little Errana’s, had heard the guttural noises that tore from her lips, the darkness that had been cast over her eyes. If the Undying God were to have had a voice that could be heard, it would have been the very same that poured from her lips as she called Errana’s name from the land of the dead. When she had arisen with the girl’s cold, trembling hand in hers, she looked at the children that stared at her in terror -- a weary smile on her lips as she told them to run along and keep this secret between them. There was no need, though; terror was the most effective muzzle.

She packed her bags and made her way to the Temple, leaving the Morrell lands and the Morrell name far behind her. Levana never thought to question why it was so easy for her to leave those ties behind -- the land of golden wheat and warm, drowsy memories. She never thought to ruminate on which part of her had died that fateful day when she had exchanged a life of peace for Errana’s beating heart. Levana built her life anew as Morrigan, giving the name at the steps of the Temple, while enlightening them about the tale of a girl once known as Levana. There had been no need, though; it would always be worth it for the lives that she managed to call back from the arms of the Undying God. Her tutelage at the Temple illuminated the path that she had willingly turned a blind eye towards in favor of lazing days spent adventuring under Tyrolhm’s golden sun. Ravenously, she consumed the tomes that they placed in front of her, testing the limits of her power and reflecting on the tolls that they took on her. For one of the orphan girls she resurrected a bird that had been target practice for the impish little boys -- and for that she lost her taste.

For a queen’s handmaiden, she had animated the limbs of her poxed brother, and for that she lost the life of the only person she had made there that she could have called friend -- a wizened old tutor whose eyes were milky and whose lips carried lines from smiling so often. The years began to bleed into one another, her hunger for knowledge growing as her abilities did until she began to spend restless nights squinting into tomes as the wax of once-tall candles melted into stubs. The coldness of corpses and the silence that they offered became more familiar to her and far more preferable than playing the enigmatic mage at the courts that the Temple recommended she visit. But for many years, she clung to who she remembered herself to be, the charming and vibrant girl that had spent so many days dictating which child would be allowed to be king, who was to be the advisor, the general, the serf, the mistress, and the queen. Her cutting tongue was known to cause riots within courts, stirring subjects with barks of laughter, making handmaidens and queens flush -- charming kings and princes and royals alike.

They whispered of her across the lands and the wide, raging sea -- the necromancer with silver hair and dark eyes, whose smile you wished to see before you died, whose siren-like voice you heard call you from the embrace of the Undying God.

But just as death and life were inseparable, were one, so too was the love and hatred of those who heard the tales of Morrigan. There were those who sought to control her, just as she had controlled the corpses -- shackling her in dungeons until she did their bidding. There were kings and queens who wished to bed her and use her for nothing more, casting her out of their castles mid-winter when they realized she would not. Poisonings and beatings were something she learned to become familiar with (demoness, devil, defiler), prejudice, bigotry, and poverty haunted her as assuredly as her sister’s nearly-forgotten ghost had. And what did the Temple do but preach to her about the practices of her power and her duty to guard wayward kingdoms from their tumultuous, violent ways? What more was she meant to do but bear these burdens and slights, so that they might know she might usher in a new age of peace? In her many travels and over the two centuries that she walked the earth she had lived a number of lives. The mage, the pick-pocket, the farmer’s daughter, the con, the philosopher, the artist, the scholar. Not a single one of them had known peace as intimately as Levana Morrell had.

But she was dead.

Only brought back to life once, in the chamber of a queen she thought she had loved, across the Sarhnian sea who always kept a wolfhound at her side. Morrigan thought she had the heart of a wolfhound too, which made it all the more easy to lay her heart at the queen’s feet. She remembered how she had poured herself into the creature, had harkened for its heart to beat, for its heart to rise. Some nights she can still taste the growl that had torn through her throat -- an echo from the wolfhound’s maw. She could still feel how her spine had bent over the limp form, arms twitching, back arching as the creature began to rise to its feet, tongue lolling, eyes black. In restless fits of sleep, her and the hound became one in the same. Sometimes she would wake, touching her teeth, thinking that they might be sharp. Within that week, she had been ushered out of the castle by one of the queen’s advisor, his eyes unable to meet hers as her threw her traveling cloak over her shoulders, shuddering away when his skin had grazed hers, paying no mind to the way he had the guards drag her since her legs didn’t seem to respond and gave way.

When she was returned to the Temple she wept for a fortnight, unable and unwilling to leave her bed. She had given everything and they had taken everything. There was no one but herself to blame -- and what was worse, she still craved the power that had poured forth from her. She hadn’t noticed how her legs had failed her, only the way all eyes within the court had looked to her in awe, in terror, in reverence, in horror. In the years that followed, she learned to use her legs once more, the iron casts and crutch aiding her, adding further allure to the century old necromancer whose bright eyes brought corpses to life in the Undying God’s name. She knew what power the whispers of common folk and courtiers had. When she had laid her heart out for the queen consort, something within her had exhaled its final, shuddering breath. Something within her had risen from its ashes and come to life -- awakening with a ravenous, insatiable hunger that eclipsed any she had ever known.

In the eyes of the great court, she had seen within them the reflection of the death defier that was whispered about. In them, she had seen the power that she had. She could realign the stars and there was no doubt that they would look at her with that intoxicating concoction of horror and awe. They would have no choice but to do as she wished -- and what she wished was for that power to be wielded by her and her alone. To bring about the Golden Age of the world as she would define it.

The woman that stepped into the court of King Septimus was a far cry from the girl that had spent her days lounging beneath the large branches and green leaves of an age-old tree. Her iron casts had echoed as she entered the large, grand doors of the castle and from the moment she laid eyes on Septimus, she saw a future of glory -- the Golden Age made incarnate. He was malleable beneath her touch and in the first decade of his rule, she flourished. It was not unlike when she was a child, dictating this and that, her the cutting edge of her words coming off as roguish and charming, refreshing and novel as the entirety of his court leaned in to listen. Morrigan forgot, though, how quickly novelty can wear off and before long the revulsion sets in, her contempt for Septimus beginning to become a nigh-impossible pill to swallow. She thought that perhaps her intuition had failed her, that once again fate, with its cruel humor, hoped to make a mockery of her once more.

The mage with all the power in the world at her fingertips was unable to bring anything more than a handful of decades of tenuous peace, known for nothing but carnage and carnage alone under King Septimus’ rule.

She didn’t even have the ability to laugh, as she once might have been able to. That power had been taken from her, too.

The yawning hunger within her, though, did not balk in the face of kings, though. It recognized neither the limitations of Morrigan’s own body, the intricacies of politics, nor the iron, bloodied fist of Septimus. All it knew was how close she had been to power -- fingers outstretched, yearning, reaching, grasping. She remembered the weary faces of the soldiers as they returned from the carnage, how pale and wide-eyed they had been, how their armor had shone, painted with the scarlet blood of the fallen. One soldier’s eyes had lifted to hers and within them, she saw the lifelessness of so many corpses that had been laid, prostrate at her feet before harkening to her call, their once-still hearts beginning to beat something fierce.

If she could not bring them peace with King Septimus then the issue was simple; she did not have enough power to. That made her culpable for this carnage. The sharp-toothed hunger within her stirred, sinking its claws deeper into her as the last vestige of her patience was swallowed whole. She would take the power that was not given to her. She would crown a new king and usher in the Golden Age of peace that she had envisioned, or upturn the board and start this game anew, with the rules dictated by her and her alone.

Her lips had twitched as she recalled a girl, standing atop a rock, dictating to those beneath her the new rules of a new game.

That young girl had been rather good at that.

She would be too.

PLOT IDEAS:

THE GATHERING: The most difficult part about being a necromancer is the fact that everyone fears you. Levana is quite aware of the fear that she incites in people -- and the problem with wanting a major shift in power is you need support in order to make sure that the kingdom isn’t lost in total and complete anarchy. The best way to ensure that the shift of power has some control and stability is by having a group ready to take control when there is a vacuum of power. And in order to have a group with a shared agenda and mission in a monarchy, one has to have a figurehead to throw their support behind. First, though, she has to assess who is loyal to who -- or who, at the very least, can be swayed. Which means networking, connecting with people, communicating with them. This is going to be a rather difficult piece of her plan to achieve since the way that people connect with others is by emoting -- and she can’t do that anymore. It’s going to certainly push her out of her comfort zone and is going to be an interesting test that will force her to reflect how much she’s changed, and how she’s lost the ability to do one of the most human things: connect with others. THE REVOLT: I broke this up in two parts because right now I see two definitive ways for The High Priestess to incite a revolt (although this could totally clash with the plans for the rp, I would be more than happy to completely scrap these OR do them and have them fail). So I think, first, she would have to find someone to support -- because she would never ever ever be the face of a revolt -- if she were, it would be coming from a mage and that would throw a wholly different light to the war and it’s not one she cares to think about (much). First, I think that she would find two of the more malleable minds that are in line for the throne -- the World and the Chariot. Depending on which one she thinks is better for the position, she would talk to them directly and either enlist their help OR if they have something in the works already, try to push herself into a position of power within the revolters group so she can have a definitive say in how this is going to play out. THE FLOURISHING: Despite how much she’s grown with her power, there’s always an opportunity to grow even more. One idea that I keep on playing around with is mass resurrection. She’s been able to resurrect individuals with repercussions, but I think she wants to try and do more. The frustration with the limitation of her powers is beginning to grow more and more apparent, and I don’t think she’s going to be satisfied until she’s exceeded everyone’s expectations. Including her own. When she performs her magic, she gives everything she has into it, pouring pieces of herself until there is nothing left -- but it still isn’t enough. If she learns how to do this, the tides of war will be changed at her say-so. Why wouldn’t she want that? THE INSTITUTION: The Temple taught her a lot, there is no doubt. But it did not teach her everything and distinctly ties the power of the mages to this idea that they are either blessed/cursed and that they owe something to the Undying God for their abilities. However, the fact that there’s only one way of learning how to control something so personal and unique to oneself does not sit well with her. It makes her lips curl and coats her tongue with bile whenever she thinks of the waste that there must be -- how a mages power can be limited by such narrow-minded thinking. And I think that the Wheel of Fortune, the Moon, and the Hierophant are evidence of that -- that, though they study the arcane there is no need for their methods to be archaic. The times are changing and so should their perceptions of magic, their understanding and belief in the Undying God, and their perception of themselves. THE EVOLUTION: One aspect that I would like to explore with the High Priestess is her perception of herself because as she grows more disconnected with the humanity that there is within her, it’s only natural that she would reflect over whether or not this is the next stage of the necromancer. There is no other like them, so why aren’t they considered gods? Why aren’t mages revered for all that they do for those who are could be conceived as “lessers”? It’s a dangerous train of thought that I think she’s careening whole-heartedly towards and something that I think could take a dangerous turn for her. Her body is literally decaying and yet she can stave off death itself at the expense of others. Isn’t there something god-like about that? WHO IS GOING TO CHECK HER? THE AGENDA: Okay this is gonna sound ICKY but Levana is the type to utilize her resources and the thing about being an orphan is that no one looks twice at you. Which makes you an asset -- someone unseeable, someone who can listen with there being no threat. The Temple didn’t utilize the orphans as they should have, and I think that (if it’s allowable) Levana has no problem utilizing these resources and taking advantage of them. For every whispered secret, she gives them a coin or resurrects a beloved pet. For orphans who give especially prized information or promise their loyalty to her, she might even hold the possibility of resurrecting their parents above their head. No one gives to her without receiving in return. Besides, you can’t survive long at court without having a means of leverage or the assurance of mutual destruction.

CHARACTER DEATH: Triple dog fishy dare you to do it, coward.

- WRITING SAMPLE -

   Another bawdy dinner -- lavish, opulent, and wasteful. Dark eyes drank in the scene before her, the court members whose mouths were stained red with wine, howling and cackling. The women of the night, scantily clad, flitting from one odious lord to another, shoving their breasts in the faces of those who seemed more like boars than men. Their wives drinking more and more so that they might pretend that they didn’t notice. Perhaps, in another life, she would have acted like one of the boorish men, drinking to her heart’s content until the room grew hazy at the edges of her vision and the smile became a fixture on her face. But not now. Not with this path that she walked.

   Instead, all she could do was look on in disgust.

   Every barrel of wine that was rolled in might have been used to pay for a bowl of stew for a child, Another bed in the orphanage. A bushel of wheat for a hungering family. The ingredients for a doctor to mix a rare salve that might soothe the growths on a suffering, aching face. Or, at the very least, they could have saved it for when the economy of the kingdom would assuredly crumble. But who was she to say? It wasn’t as if Septimus had the capacity to process an intelligent thought. Levana had a working theory that he had three main thoughts and they rotated between power, pussy, and potent wine. Anything more than that would throw him off and likely send him into a tantrum. She supposed it hurt his brain to expend itself in such a manner, which is why he would only be able to respond in the most barbaric way.

   When he patted her hand to garner her attention, she wanted to let her lip curl and pull away -- but her body was slow to respond. Today was particularly vexing -- she had brought The Wheel Of Fortune to an orphanage and the two of them had set about practicing their animations on corpses. She was resistant, which had meant that Morrigan was forced to do the majority of the work.

   It’s a shame that such intelligence was outweighed by cowardice.

   Her limbs were weary and deft to her commands, choosing to listen when they wanted to, which meant that her movements were labored and slow. As a result, she had no choice but to sit, watch, and endure the putrid smell of the sweaty man who was unfortunately the crowned king.  So she swallowed down the bile that coated her tongue and turned to him -- she had never been more thankful for her inability to show her disgust -- brow rising as she subtly pulled her hand onto her lap.

   “I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she apologized, playing coy as she tilted her chin down. It made her look as though she were batting her eyes at him, but the fumes of his breath made her want to gag. It was nothing more than an avoidance tactic that required minimal usage of her facial muscles. Morrigan’s eyes slid away from his. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your bloated sense of self-importance...”

   Her voice wouldn’t carry in the room. It always seemed to fall away, giving out at the end before she could quite finish, fading into the noise, into nothing.

   “WHAT WAS THAT?” He bellowed, shoving the poor drunken woman off of his lap as he leaned towards her. “SPEAK UP, MAGE.”

   Against her own sense of self-preservation and thoughts for cleanliness, she leaned closer to the king, turning into his ear. “I said that your subjects will no doubt speak of the debauchery of their king.” It wasn’t exactly a compliment but it was the truth. Hopefully he would hear her over the sound of his own labored breathing -- she was curious to see what his reaction might be.

   Septimus leaned back with a grin  and looked at her, hesitating a bit as he tried to process what she was saying. Perhaps he was waiting for someone to tell him whether or not he should consider the words a compliment. He didn’t quite have the faculties to gauge it for himself. His eyes flickered over her face -- not quite seeing her and unable to interpret the micro-expressions.

   It was like looking for fog within mist.

   There was nothing to be found except further nothingness. There was something blissful about knowing that she could never be understood, that interpretations of her words and actions could never be understood correctly. Another beat passed and then another. Her mouth didn’t shift upwards, her eyes didn’t wrinkle in delight -- she merely looked at him as she waited for him to grasp her words. Then Septimus let out a loud guffaw and she inclined her chin, turning away.

   “You’ve got quite the mouth on you,” he howled, “I bet back in your day before you started wearing the ugly make-up and looking like death you could’ve used it for something too!”

   “Yes,” she answers, eyes flickering back to him briefly. “I happily used it for making already small men feel smaller.” Her lip twitched, nothing more than a slight lift, before dissipating quickly. It seemed that her muscles were too tired for that, even. “To chew up bones and spit them back out.”

   He certainly caught that.

   He snorted derisively and waved his hand. “Don’t bring talk of death here, not tonight, Morrigan.” Ah, Morrigan. So he truly was done with her for the night if he wasn’t calling her m a g e. Tediously, she rose to her feet, nodding at the Wheel of Fortune to hand her the crutch, leaning against the wall. Levana’s eyes shuttered wearily as she rose to her feet, iron casts around her legs groaning and creaking as she righted herself.

   The king watched on in boredom, not bothering to help as he pulled another woman onto his lap.

   Levana turned around and bowed.

   “Long live the king,” she sighed, a pretty little (little, nothing more than a light lift of her lips, barely-there)  smile pulling at her lips as she bid him goodnight.

   One could only hope that he choked on his own tongue between now and tomorrow morning. As she put herself to sleep she couldn’t help but smile as she thought of the sound of him choking.

EXTRAS

Anything you’d like can go here, whether that be a playlist, a pinterest board, some headcanons, or whatever you’d like to show us!

[realm-of-dragons]

Staff App - Yagi Toshinori

Played by Mod Gray

OOC:

Name: Gray

Age: 26

Preferred pronouns: She/her or they/them

Timezone: PST

Discord: bizarrebird#1697

Any topics you want added to the content warning list?: animal abuse

Second choice character?: Eijiro Kirishima

IC:

Name: Toshinori Yagi

Age: 105 (physically, closer to 60)

Gender ID / pronouns: Cismale, he/him

OTPs, BroTPs, or NoTPS?: 

OTP - I primarily ship him with Aizawa

BroTP - With Midoriya of course, I would love them to have a familial relationship. That goes for most of the younger characters too, he’s very prone to adopting anyone who needs a decent parent. 

NoTP - I would rather not ship him with any of the characters who are his students in canon and I’m a little hesitant to see him get involved with villain characters romantically. 

Toshinori is gay and though he’s rather private about his personal life, he doesn’t make a secret of that. There is an endgame ship in mind for him with Shouta Aizawa, so he won’t be actively pursuing romance outside of that.

Race: Human 

Appearance: Toshinori always resembles his skeletal, shrunken form as he does in canon. In his youth, he resembled his more well known All Might form, but after several injuries and magical procedures, he has been reduced to his smaller appearance at all times. His most notable features, apart from his overall nearly bone thing appearance, are his shadowed piercing blue eyes and his wild mane of blond hair. 

Role: Toshinori is the ruler of the human kingdom. His reign has lasted nearly fifty years and he is loyal to his people to a fault. In his younger years, he was a great unifier of the scattered humans, bringing them together and was unanimously selected to lead them. 

Skills:

Toshinori’s greatest skill is his ability to uplift and inspire those around him. He’s always been an excellent public speaker who could bring hope to those who needed it most.

In his younger years, he was a skilled warrior, never losing a fight once he put his mind to it. These skills have fallen away with his weakening from, but, if necessary, he can still hold his own. 

He’s an excellent teacher and has trained many of the greatest heroes of the last several decades, who have gone on to do great things themselves.

Even with his weakened form, Toshinori is still much stronger than he looks and is capable of lifting most full grown adults over his head. He rarely demonstrates this ability, but it is useful in a pinch.

Backstory:

Humans are nothing. They’re scattered, lost, barely holding on. Liege lords lay claims to any land they desired, caring nothing for the smallfolk they force under their thumbs. Farmland is burnt when absurd taxes aren’t paid. Mercenaries terrorize towns barely strong enough to keep standing. 

Toshinori’s home burns. He’s a child as he watches the embers take to the wind. His father leaves, seeking work and a doctor for his mother. The cough came with the fire, it takes her not long after. His father never returns. 

It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. Someone must do something. 

He’s not the only orphan left behind by the blazes that spread across the village. Taking to the woods, he learns to fish, tries (and fails and fails and fails) to hunt. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to keep the children fed, to tide the few parents left over for another day. It’s nearly a month before men in armor approach the town, demanding to know who has been hunting in the lord’s woods. Toshinori steps forward without a thought. The punishment for theft is death at the knight’s sword, life in service, or life in chains. He’s ten years old. Given a choice, he asks for a sword. 

The weight is nearly too much for his hands, but he lifts it as the crowd gasps. He blocks one blow, then two, then the third sends the sword from his hands, skittering across the dirt. Starving, hands aching, he stands tall and waits for the blow to fall. It never comes. A new knight stands before him, calling for an end. Her voice rings out strong as she sends the lords’ men running, tails between their legs. 

Nana Shimura offers her hand and Toshinori takes it. 

They travel together. After a few years, the sword never feels too heavy in his hands. But it isn’t enough. Nana fights for justice, for the little people, but once she’s done, she moves onto the next town and the next. And every time, Toshinori fights to stay. There must be more they can do, there’s so much more that their people need. If the people were to come together, unite under a common banner, they could be so much more. All they need is a force to rally behind. 

Toshinori doesn’t mean to become that force, to be a leader, but when he speaks, people begin to listen. When he tells them they can band together, they do. When he speaks of strength, they find it in themselves, more than they could ever know. When he speaks of a future, they start to see it too. But seeing it alone isn’t enough. 

They need someone who can fight for it, and Toshinori does. He fights until his bones ache, until his fingers are scarred and bloody, until he can barely stay upright. And there are still more battles ahead. His hope has been given to so many and for a time, it nearly abandons him until Nana tells him of a legend. Whispers of a witch who could grant him the power he needs, not just to fight, but to stand firm, to be the symbol that the people need.

Searching through frost and fire, down to a forbidden cave, Toshinori finds not a witch, but a well. The promise of power and long life draw him in, the inscription assuring both, for those who are true of heart. So Toshinori drinks deep. It’s after his rousing speech, when blood creeps up his throat that he learns all magic comes with a price. But he remains strong, stands tall. If he can bring the people together, last long enough for them to be united under one peaceful banner, it will be enough.

His strength grows, as do the people rallying around him. The liege lords are forced out when even their strongest men turn tail and flee. One last white flag rises and Toshinori lifts his hand in victory. They’ve won. Blood fills his lungs and his muscles ache, but his smile remains as he waves and shakes every hand held his way. 

From there, he steps down, or he means to. The people have been brought together, his job is done. But… things are never so easy. Meetings are held and Toshinori insists on a vote. It is for the people to choose who should lead them. He puts forth several names, some of his supporters, some who opposed him, all wise, earnest people worthy of following. Every last one of them votes for him instead. The people follow suit and Toshinori is crowned king of the new kingdom of Unifia. 

For years, he reigns and peace is held. But the pain creeps. Day by day it grows. Still, his people need him, so Toshinori keeps his head held high. A little bit of unpleasant magic can’t hold him back. 

The question rises now and then, who will follow after him once his reign is done? His advisers make casual comments, suggestions, perhaps it’s time you think about finding a wife, your highness. Toshinori lets his laugh echo through the halls as he gently turns their ideas aside. No, that is not what he wants. 

His mind drifts now and then to a man with dark hair, shadows beneath his eyes, something altogether inhuman about his beauty. But Toshinori lets the moment pass. He’s no longer some young, eager adventurer, he is king, and flights of fantasy must be put aside. 

The strength starts to leave him, slowly at first, but it isn’t long before others take notice. Toshinori does what he can, but he can no longer hide the blood that dots his hands with every hacking cough. A healer is brought in, then another then another. Some ease the pain, slow the blood, others bring it back tenfold. Finally, a young mage is summoned. He’s talented and powerful. A great bout of sickness strikes at once and Toshinori knows nothing for nearly a month.

When he awakes, the blood has slowed to a trickle, but the softness of his youth has abandoned him. His arms are thin, brittle, his face sunken and gaunt. It’s truly for the best he never sought out a wife, for who could stand to look upon him with love now. But he lives on, his legs still carrying him, his eyes still sharp, his voice still enough to reach his people. 

It is only now that Toshinori knows what must be done. He needs a successor, one who can carry his people into the world he has given everything to build for them. And with the aid of the elven king and the newly established adventurer’s guild, he has just the place to begin his search. 

Extras:

Toshinori took the throne when he was a little over 50 years old, but due to the magic of the well, he looked quite a bit younger even then. Now his true age is finally starting to catch up with him a bit. 

The magic that gave him strength all those years ago has taken its toll and Toshinori finds himself feeling rather weak. The worst of his coughing fits have passed thanks to his healers, but from time to time, he still coughs up a bit of blood. 

He has his eye on Izuku Midoriya to be his successor, how far their relationship has progressed will be discussed when Midoriya is picked up. 

Writing sample:

The castle’s grand halls are empty and unnecessary. Toshinori has always thought they were far too much, far too grand. But the people insisted. His advisers insisted. A king must have a castle. If it were up to him, he would be content with a cottage in the woods, close to the central city, but far enough away that he could have his privacy. He loves the people, he always has, but even he needs a bit of time for himself now and then.

Especially now. 

He flexes his fingers. The skin feels taut, drawn too tight, like it might begin to crack at any moment. Life is leaking out of him. Everyday a bit more springs free, slowly trailing away. Toshinori doesn’t guess at the number of days. It’s likely to be years still. That hardly matters. He hardly matters in the long run. It’s the kingdom, the people who must live on. 

So he refocuses, attention going to the parchment laid out on the desk before him. More potential successors. He trusts his advisers, of course he does. But… they have different ideas about things, about what it means to be king. They mean well. Toshinori scans the ever growing list. “Strong candidates,” he says, almost gently. “You’ve brought me an excellent list. Thank you.” 

His words are earnest, genuine. They always are. His advisers bow, mumbling platitudes as they make for the door. By now, they know that he prefers to examine the lists on his own. The door shuts behind them and Toshinori finally lets his shoulders slump. He brings a hand to his brow and lets out a slow breath. They all want him to have the gusto, the energy of his youth, but… it isn’t in him anymore. After so long, he’s started to wonder if it ever was. 

Hand falling away, he turns his eyes back to the list. A frown slowly grows. The choices are clever, careful. His advisers have picked children… sons of prominent families. Any would bring their supporters rallying behind them. But none of them are right. Leaning back in his chair, Toshinori lets his eyes fall shut.

At once, he sees them, the jeering faces of the old lords, smells the ever present smoke. Sitting up sharply, he presses a hand to his mouth to stifle a cough. No blood lingers on his hand when he finally draws it away. That’s something at least. As he’s done again and again, he casts the list aside. None of them are right. If this kingdom is to go on, the choice must be his. He trusts his people, of course he does, but they’re young, they’re too optimistic. They haven’t seen the cruelness of people, they haven’t seen the power of hatred and greed. And perhaps that is his own fault. 

He leans forward in his seat, grabbing a fresh piece of parchment. There is a decree to be made. A letter to be sent. It is time to bring the next generation of adventurers, of heroes , into the fold. One of them will be worthy, of that much, he is certain. He must be. 

[fountainpenguin]

S and T for the ask

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

> Bittersweet endings. I don’t like completely perfect or completely depressing ends… I like little nibbles of both.

> Witty banter. Never get tired of it.

> I’m not normally one for AUs, but I love college AUs for worlds that don’t have a college equivalent. What do they study? I must know.

> Fleshing unliked/overlooked side character out with an interesting backstory and cool hobbies.

> We dislike each other but have to keep up appearances.

> Smooth, probably sexually experienced character is easily flustered.

> Alternatively: smooth character flirts with someone, takes it too far, and instantly backpedals while screaming internally.

> Sharing space on a road trip.

> Soft holiday stories! Especially fantasy holidays, because then I’m falling in love with the worldbuilding and pleased that the characters are happy.

> Blind dates.

> Tired but loving single parent who works very hard

> Two tired parents working very hard, so glad they’re in this together

> Someone falls in love with a single parent, asks their kid(s) permission to marry their parent, and lets kid help them pick out a ring and participate in wedding plans.

> HEALTHY!!! STEP-FAMILIES!!!

> Jerk messed with the wrong person and now they’re in for it… We don’t know when… but oh, they’re in for it.

> Petty villains (“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I call in an evil plan, and you send your B squad??? Frankly I’m a little insulted!” -Snaptrap)

> Petty heroes… Read: Randy Disher, a full-grown adult police lieutenant, getting his feelings hurt when the Captain says he’d save Monk, not him, if both were in the water because Monk can’t swim, and Randy persists by asking if his mind would change if Randy was holding an anchor and the Captain asks why he wouldn’t just let go of the anchor and Randy looks him in the eye and says “Family heirloom” and the Captain just >:|

> Gift giving is shown to be a valid form of affection and not played as a greedy, materialistic love language (Related: Character A buys cute little gifts for B sometimes and it doesn’t turn into a story about wasteful spending or needing to shower your partner in gifts or else they’ll freak out).

> Bed sharing / cuddles (As long as it doesn’t progress to sex… I have to be in the right mindset for that and 9.5 times out of 10 I’d rather have snuggles).

> Quick, casual, absentminded kisses. Convince me this character’s instinct is to express affection even when they’re distracted and you have me eating out of your hand.

> Kisses in awkward places… Up against walls, quickly stolen while the third wheel is out of the room, couple trying to hide even though their friends ship them and no one present will judge them for a kiss… Yes. The more uncomfortable the position or time, the better. Love that spontaneous cute.

> Fake dating and in the end they’re still good friends, no push into a romantic relationship just because they were in this situation together.

> Healthy mutual break-ups

> Asexual characters!!! I’m for any story that acknowledges people like me exist and are happy, whether it’s a story about discovery, the difficulties of being ace, or a story where the ace character is just at peace.

> People are close friends and not dating. Both are comfortable with their relationship and no one tries to make them feel bad.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

(Below the cut. Keep in mind these are my personal preferences and I’m not attacking anyone who likes tropes I dislike. This isn’t a comprehensive list, just some thoughts about tropes I don’t enjoy reading).

> Redemption through romantic love. So. Much.

> Everybody Lives AUs

> Soulmates

> Forbidden love

> Amnesia

> Coffee Shop AUs (I’m all for “In the future this character gets a job” stories, but I dislike “I’m going to flirt with this person while they’re in a position they can’t leave” stories)

> Psychic powers / Twins can read minds. It’s not an immediate deal-breaker, but my interest will drop sharply.

> Falling in love way too quickly / confusing infatuation with genuine love and the moral of the story is that you should risk your life plans and dive headfirst into relationships with people you don’t know well yet (I didn’t watch The Sun Is Also a Star, but the trailers pushed ALL my wrong buttons).

> Physical touch is the only or most important way to express affection. I’m all for love language miscommunication stories. I don’t like being told those who don’t express physical touch easily are frigid or uncaring.

> Big rescue scenes in romance (Ex: Hero carrying love interest from a burning building… I’d rather see hero helping love interest up a tough patch of the trail they’re hiking, or leaving a party to find their partner a dessert they’re not allergic to, something small and affectionate like that).

> Asexual invalidation/correction stories (Related: Virgin mockery). I don’t mind reading these if the main character is asexual and it’s a story about sexuality exploration or a character facing difficulties because they’re ace (That’s what Origin of the Pixies is, after all), but if the author legitimately believes asexuality needs to be fixed or that ace characters can’t be in fulfilling relationships, that’s what I don’t like.

> Canon: *Characters state they don’t want to be together romantically*  Fanfic: *Makes them romantic*  As a reader, I’m willing to let you take my hand if you show me careful thought processes and honest conversations while the characters work through changes together in early chapters, but if there’s absolutely no explanation (or indication that backstory will be given later) and the story just starts with them together for some reason… I won’t play along.

> When two people in canon are very close but not an official romantic couple and the only ‘fics about them are romantic. I don’t mind some stories being romantic, especially if they’re set in the future of canon, but if I can’t find more than a tiny handful of ‘fics that match their canon relationship, I get frustrated.

> Oh, here’s a trope I despise with the intensity of a thousand suns… Animals that are not dogs behaving like dogs (Ex: Maximus the horse in Tangled). Other animals are interesting too!

> I dislike a lot of angst tropes in general. I like psychological horror, like the slow recognition of your own sins (which is probably why I write villain backstories). A loved one dying in your arms, or trapped inside a burning house, does nothing to me. You could not get farther from affecting me if you tried. My heart will break if someone hesitates in an otherwise cheery story and the other person staggers back, realizing things aren’t as perfect as they thought. I live for moments where the bliss suddenly snaps and in an instant, everything’s changed. But deaths drawn out with gasps and bleeding, or houses going up in flames, don’t really land. Angst has to be fast and hard or I find it tedious.

> Developing a crush on someone before you even see or hear them interact. See also, liking someone you have no business liking when your people raised you to dislike theirs. How do you exist outside your culture? I want reasons.

> Using new pronouns for a character who hasn’t revealed their preferred pronouns to the narrator and/or a character outs someone by using new pronouns without ensuring they’re okay with that. I’m cool with long-established pronouns, but if some characters don’t know yet, they don’t know yet.

> I’m personally not a fan of self-insert stories, especially Self-Insert x Canon. Specifically, I dislike the trope that self-inserts will draw canon character attention and take the focus away from a canon character development story, which is what I prefer to read. Self-inserts who don’t disrupt the status quo are fine by me.

> I can accept OC x Canon if you don’t contradict canon, but the OC has to be well fleshed out with realistic flaws, and if the canon character is completely OOC, I’m backing out (It’s specifically Main Character OC x Canon that I don’t like- I’ll happily dive into “Failed relationships in canon character’s past involving OC exes because canon characters won’t work for this”).

> Timmy wakes up one day and realizes Tootie’s the girl for him. I need a looong slow burn to sell me on that one. I’m happy to see him recognize his own judgmental attitudes and accept her as a friend, but if it moves into romance while they’re still young, I’m out.

> Wanda being pregnant instead of Cosmo… I 100% forgive this for anything written before “Fairly Odd Baby,” but if Wanda’s the pregnant one then I immediately scroll up to check the upload date. If I can’t trust you with that piece of canon, what can I trust you with?

> Wanda confronts Cosmo and argues that he’s being mean to her. That’s a can of worms I’d rather skirt around.

> I’m all for Cosmo and Wanda having a second kid, but NOT while they’re still with Timmy.

> Abusive Juandissimo.

> I also don’t like fluff. I don’t deliberately avoid sweet, plotless stories, but I don’t seek them out. I lose interest in fluff more quickly than anything else.

… I’m realizing now that the reason I don’t like romantic stories is probably because most of them revolve around expressing affection the literal opposite way of how I prefer it (Ex: Way more stories about physical touch and making out until impulsive sex occurs, not enough quick kisses in passing or time spent existing quietly on the same couch enjoying your separate hobbies).

I don’t inherently hate romance, I just have different romantic preferences than the media that usually crosses my path. I’m more about companionate love than fiery passion. It’s hard to convey the comfortable silence I like in words.

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