#otp: a wonder to behold

[wentian]

HADES II gifs (3/?) "Hear that, Goddess?"

[ladyinthebluebox]

feeling completely regular about the ways they look at one another.

[teafiend]

By now, am fully onboard with producers remaking an adaptation (drama etc) every decade or so, as will definitely watch them for my fix of 靖蓉❤️‍🔥✨☺️🥰

Especially when this latest version has my favourite Guo Jing and JingRong to date ❤️‍🔥💖❤️🧡💛💛💚💙🤎🤍🖤 (and I - already - love, love each and every other pairing of this in other adaptations).

All have been wonderful and I look forward to having more to enjoy✨

[i-did-not-mean-to]

YOTP - March

Ah! I might be crawling on my hands and knees, but I shall give you the monthly OTP nevertheless.

I love you all very much, and I hope you can forgive me for being so absent (and absent-minded) lately. Life is getting a bit much for me...

Either way, have two grumpy singers!

Pairing: Daeron x Maglor

Prompts: Fresh starts, Road Trip, Getting back together/mutual pining, "make me", acceptance, fairy tale AU (of sorts)

Words: 2515

Warnings: Sadness, unprocessed grief, a kiss, Modern AU

“Princess,” Daeron singsonged, irony dripping like acid from his melodious voice. “Your carriage awaits!”

“Fuck off,” Maglor replied in an uncharacteristically gruff hiss and swept past the unfairly tall, light-haired nuisance with what he envisioned as regal equanimity.

Glaring at the small, frantically blinking light at the far end of the luxurious caravan, he wedged himself behind the steering wheel and suppressed a shivering sigh.

After millennia of resentful solitude, his boredom had finally gotten the better of him, and—dusting off his long-forgotten impish streak—the last surviving son of Fëanor had ultimately given in to the temptation of singing again.

The world around him had, of course, changed drastically, and so he had found himself in an endless, milling queue for what was generally known as a “casting show”. Oh! The indignity!

With the rise and fall of one-hit-wonders and the increasing popularity of self-produced clips on various platforms, the format was ailing, and he had felt strangely touched by the faded glory of a dying genre—the dramatic flair of bittersweet nostalgia had always appealed to him, after all.

Never could he have predicted the shock and amazement that had washed through him upon discovering a familiar face amongst the sea of strangers, all of them impatiently waiting to get their fleeting moment in the sun.

Daeron of Doriath had grinned wistfully. “Alive, yeah?”

Even now, as his knuckles were white and tense around the cheap imitation of black leather, Maglor was overcome with helpless ire as he recalled that callous greeting.

His own heart had given a painful lurch, and his tongue had felt heavy and unwieldy in his dry mouth.

In truth, he resented Daeron for having had the readiness of mind to quip however feebly and half-heartedly when he had been struggling to even draw breath.

Evidently, Maglor had heard rumours about Daeron’s disappearance, and—while the world was in the throes of the Black Death—he had even attempted to do some discreet investigations, but he had never expected to behold that sharp-featured, unbearably impassive face in person again.

Once upon a time, they had shared a few torrid nights of illicit pleasure, and Maglor had always liked to think that they would have made for good long-term lovers, had things been different.

As history had played out, though, too many grievous deeds of treason and murder had ultimately fallen like unforgiving scythes between Daeron’s people and his own, and they had been torn apart before their fragile bond had ever truly knitted.

Many a time, Maglor—overcome with loneliness and longing—had assured himself that it had been for the best, despite the nagging sting of persistent doubt at the back of his mind.

“Do you ever think of the fairy tale ending we didn’t get?”

Maglor’s eyes widened as the sharp jerk of Daeron’s head made him realise that he had spoken these words aloud.

In his former life, he had been known to love causing a stir, but he now resented himself for having betrayed his own resolution not to give the vultures of the TV show any material they could cut and mangle into some melodramatic narrative of mutual pining and inevitable heartbreak.

As was to be expected of two musical heroes of another time, Daeron and he had passed the initial try-outs with flying colours, and the producer—who seemed more interested in a marketable storyline than in actual skill—had promptly decided that they were to share a camping car to a yet undisclosed location where the first “challenge” would be held.

Having performed in desolate war camps and in front of highly spoiled, complacent audiences alike, Maglor was fundamentally unafraid of the potential discontentment of a few blatantly unarmed mortals which, quite naturally, only contributed to his popularity with the viewers of the sensationalist show.

His frantically cheery demeanour, especially in juxtaposition with Daeron’s almost hostile aloofness, had thus immediately captured the hearts and minds of the faceless, nameless spectators behind innumerable screens all across the world.

Unfortunately, neither one of them, having always been reasonably popular, had had the good sense to refuse this arrangement, which meant that they were now perched together in a structurally unsound box of laughably thin metal that was hurtling down bumpy streets towards an undoubtedly underwhelming destination.

After a long moment of silently toying with the grotesque collection of porcelain dolls, plush toys, and ragdolls Maglor seemed to carry around like talismans or voodoo dolls, Daeron scoffed.

“Why, Káno, don’t write us off just yet. Returned from oblivion and obsolescence, here we are, competing once more,” he rasped. Maglor took his eyes off the road to witness the mocking twinkle in those enchantingly unfathomable eyes.

Oh, Daeron had always loved speaking in riddles, and nothing amused him more than to harp on the subtext of a situation until its thrumming strings screamed their protest.

Bowing his head in a poor imitation of gratitude, Maglor narrowed his eyes to flashing slivers of bared steel.

“Isn’t that how these tales go?” Daeron chortled. “The princess, singing mournful songs by the raging sea, and the lost knight finding her at the very last moment. I seem to remember a story of a daring prince who found his paramour—captured and detained by dragons and evil monsters—by singing to his lost love. Are you familiar with it?”

This time, Maglor gave an audible grunt. The naked pain vibrating in the sound made Daeron press his lips together as if he could recall the hasty, cruel words he had just unleashed.

“Forget I’ve said anything,” he hissed. “The years have not been kind to my mind.”

Again, Daeron tapped his fingertip against the pale cheek of an antique figurine of a flame-haired angel. “Nelyafinwë Maitimo,” he whispered as if to call one who could no longer hear neither curses nor praise.

With a choked sound of raw emotion, Maglor wrenched around the steering wheel dangerously. “I haven’t heard their names for so long, spoken by a voice that isn’t mine. Forgive me…”

“I have bought your paintings, by the way,*” Daeron confessed, drawn into the depthless pool of the other’s unexpected vulnerability as easily now as that first time they had met under a new moon. “It took me centuries to find them all, but they’re safe with me.”

“Sometimes,” he then disjointedly answered that involuntary question, hanging like a raincloud between them, in a sober, startlingly beautiful whisper. “At times, when the night is oppressive and starless, and the wind sings dirges of another era, yes, then I think of you and of all that might have been.”

Maglor had expected mockery and scalding disdain, but Daeron’s candid reply, drenched in blood and unshed tears, left him speechless as he stared sightlessly at the road unwinding like a drab, greyish ribbon before him.

For what felt like an eternity, they just sat in silence as the empty, barren landscape flew past them.

In their former life, there would have been loud, competitive singing, but they seemed to agree that whatever they shared was too fragile and precious to drag it out into the open under the dispassionate, greedy eye of a soulless camera.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Daeron said suddenly, almost making Maglor veer off the road again with shock as that old-familiar, powerful voice rattled him like a shockwave.

He nodded shakily—usually, he was better at observing and emulating the little weaknesses of the incarnates amongst which they were hiding, but his mind had been obsessively dissecting every minute detail of Daeron’s confession.

Indubitably, a mere human would need to stretch their legs and rest their eyes after hours of driving! Maglor resented himself for not having thought of it himself, and—never one to forego a challenge—he added cheerily that he could indeed do with a snack.

A tiny twitch passed over Daeron’s face—was it exasperated disbelief or earnest amusement?—but he, in turn, nodded as if he did not know that the blessed and cursed prince of the Ñoldor could have covered the distance their rickety caravan had just crossed without resting or eating. “Sure, we can go for a walk.”

They chuckled quietly in unison, remembering with heartbroken melancholy how mercilessly they had once been berated for their half-hearted dissembling and open petulance.

Again, they seemed to concur that they’d bear much worse than the tasteless, guileless prying of a ruthless producer if it meant that they could weather the devastatingly deserved displeasure of their lost loved ones once more.

Alas, they were alone in this world, and thus they could be as dishonest in their demeanour as they wanted.

The playful duplicity and leisurely prevarication that had once been a harmless affectation had seemingly turned into a dire necessity throughout the ages, though, and Daeron rubbed his thumb distractedly across the pendant—old, golden wood, engraved in a language few could read nowadays—as Maglor pulled into a near-empty parking lot.

They moved slowly and clumsily as they exited the parked trailer, masterfully emulating the signs of fatigue and stiffness they’d observed in friends and foes countless times.

“Do you really want to walk?” Maglor asked. Haven’t we walked enough? Even though that second, slightly bitter question never made it past his lips, Daeron could easily discern it between the lines.

“Yes—didn’t you say that you were hungry?” He looked famished, Daeron thought with a pang of agonising nostalgia and resentful pity.

He remembered the soft, full silhouette of Kanafinwë, blessed song of Fëanáro’s and Nerdanel’s love, and he shivered with dismay at the sight of the unbecomingly gaunt, hollow-cheeked creature stalking past him.

This fading shadow of a once glorious prince looked like something cut out of a cheap fashion magazine, paper-thin and oddly flat, which undoubtedly impressed foolish girls and shallow youngsters who, of course, had no way of knowing that Maglor had once possessed the kind of beauty neither song nor hefty tome might ever have captured or encompassed.

“Let me buy you a sandwich,” he said with a forced grin and elbowed Maglor in the ribs. “You look like you need it!”

“A soggy sandwich from a vending machine?” Maglor made a face. “I remember the amazing feasts you used to prepare for me. Do you?”

Clenching his teeth to keep the wailing dirge of lost love—bewept and interred so many ages ago—from bursting from his lips in a hailstorm of fire and blood, Daeron nodded tersely. “You called me ‘nightingale’ then, and you loved the bittersweet taste of the pale berries that only grew in our shadowy meadows,” he whispered. “I remember.”

A barking, unsteady laugh escaped Maglor. “They were like you—complex, acrid, and delicious. I—”

They had reached the edge of the bare, bleak cement desert and sat down under a gnarled, greyish tree that had lost all its colour and vitality in the constant haze of exhaust fumes and empty souls.

“Should I go check whether they have a fresh sandwich for you?” Daeron broke the silence that thrummed like a single chord vibrating endlessly between them. “You don’t look much like the lark I once loved anymore, but you still sound the same.”

Maglor’s head snapped up in a sharp jerk. He had not thought of that silly nickname in a literal eternity—at least as far as everyone around him was concerned—and hearing it spoken so tenderly pierced his heart.

“Lark,” he repeated slowly. “Because I was so loud and annoying.”

“Because you were the herald of dawn, of light, of hope!” Daeron contradicted gruffly.

“Who brought death and destruction, never you forget.” Averting his eyes from the shining hero of his unfinished fairy tale, Maglor felt a surge of that age-old despair and weariness crawling up his clogged throat.

“We did that quite well on our own.” Shrugging lopsidedly—a little too fast to fully hide the lingering echoes of unprocessed feelings of resentment and desire—Daeron gave a long-drawn, distinctly miserable sigh. “Either way, it’s done and over. Your kings and mine, the fair maidens we disappointed and deserted, the kin we betrayed…they’re all gone and won’t come back any time soon. Might as well eat that sandwich, what say you? I want you to eat something—I’ve always loved watching you eat!”

“Make me!” The right corner of Maglor’s mouth twitched, and just as Daeron decided that he’d accept this as consent and wanted to jog back to the small, rancid store they’d passed by on their way to the lonely tree, all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

“You said…you said I loved Doriath’s berries and…that you’d loved me,” Maglor whispered tremulously.

Maybe it was the rare quality of his voice or perhaps it was Daeron’s exceptional hearing, but these words seemed to swell into a deafening crescendo, underscored by the roaring of the blood in his temples and ears.

He had stupidly let this slip, hadn’t he?

“I admit that the past tense, no matter how deserved, wounds me,” the fallen prince admitted in a low, trembling voice.

“No—” Daeron took a deep, audible breath. “That was a long time ago, and many things have changed, haven’t they?”

Crestfallen, the other—still so beautiful underneath the tarnished patina of faded glory—nodded. “I guess all things must change. Nevertheless, your voice still makes my heart skip a beat, so I guess some precious fragments of our previous lives stay blessedly untouched by the ravages of war and the unrelenting destruction of time.”

Daeron could have said a million things—he wanted to object and argue—but, instead, he simply closed his cool palms around Maglor’s drawn face and pulled him in a soft, tender kiss.

As their eyes closed, lids fluttering wildly, they could almost feel the gentle, fragrant winds of a faraway verdant forest caress their clammy brow, and echoes of songs that had not been played in millennia filled the cool air.

That first kiss was as delicate as butterfly wings, but it shifted the world off its axis irrevocably, nevertheless.

“We’re no longer who we once were…and that might be for the better,” Daeron breathed against those sweet, poisonous lips. “But—as that greasy executive didn’t tire of pointing out—we each have a compellingly tragic backstory, fraught with mystery and misery, that only we know about. Let me recite the names of your brothers to you while we hold on to what is left of us.”

“Sandwiches and sad songs?” Maglor teased feebly. “How the mighty have fallen!”

“Whatever you want, princess. It’s just you and me, left stranded in this decrepit, dying world. At the edge of time, afloat in the everlasting darkness of self-imposed isolation, we remain.”

“Are you saying that it is time to go home? Together?” Reluctance and longing wrought a complex melody that echoed through their souls, reviving old grievances and immortal affection.

“Not yet, darling. Let’s give them a show…” Daeron whispered. “One last encore before the final curtain, what say you, my lark?”

* If you want the spin-off story of Daeron travelling around to find and purchase (steal, blackmail, and do crime in general) Maglor's paintings, let me know!

Thank you for bearing with me! Lots of love!

-> Masterlist

[yukidragon]

Is there any picture of Alice’s family? It would be cool to see them or doodle an idea what they look like :0

Sadly, I haven't been able to draw for a while now due to health reasons, and it might be a while longer before I can again. (Don't worry, it's nothing serious.) A friend of mine offered to draw the oldest three King girls for me though, which is super sweet of her.

I have made picrews of some of the family members to serve as a general idea to work from when I do eventually draw them. It's what I did before drawing Alice's concept sheet too. I find picrews to a good place to consider character appearance in broad strokes.

I'll share some of those picrews with you all if you're curious about my current general ideas. Remember, their designs (and some of their names) aren't completely set in stone yet, as I still need to draw them when I can. This just helps me better get a picture in my mind of what they look like.

As a heads up, each individual picrew can be pretty limited in its options. Sometimes skin tone, eye color, hair type, etc. just won't match with the look I'm going for. These are just the picrews that come closest to what I have in mind right now.

First up is Mama King, who I'm considering naming Lycoris or Lily.

Picrew

Soft, sweet, cuddly, short of stature but big of heart, Mama King absolutely loves her family more than anything else in the world. There's nothing she won't do to protect them and what they love.

Mama King is not only a great mother, but she's also fantastic at growing plants and has won many awards over the years. This is what led to a pretty good business online selling flowers that have been made into charming jewelry and other forms of art by her creative and loving spouse.

The family home has a decent sized plot of land to allow Mama to grow as many plants as she likes. Her gardens are truly a sight to behold, and her one of a kind flowers are to die for.

As you might have guessed, Alice has gotten a few features from her mom, such as her height, curly hair, and her wonderfully soft and cuddly hugs. The coloration, however, was something she inherited from her Papa.

Picrew

I'm still trying to decide on Papa King's name, but I've got a pretty solid idea of what he looks like. Tall, slender, and pale, this proud papa stands out in a crowd, though sometimes under some shade with sunscreen and shades on if it's someplace out in the sunlight. Sadly, being albino means you're more prone to sunburns, and his eyes are more sensitive than most. The picrew can't really give what I have in mind justice, but their eyes are a mixture of pale blue and red due to the lack of pigment.

Papa King is a sensitive soul who loves creating stylish trinkets and jewelry. He struggles with conflict, so their wife is his knight in shining armor much of the time, and that's one of the reasons why they fell in love with her. He also loves their wonderful children, as well as all the cats and dogs the family own. Though quite the homebody, his life is very full with such a busy house and their creative projects, as well as running the business he owns with their wife.

The oldest child of the King family probably doesn't really need an introduction. I mean, I drew Alice and mentioned her on this tumblr plenty of times before. Still, it feels sad to leave her out, so here's a picrew of her and Jack holding hands and dressed for a date.

Picrew

Why yes I'm shameless about my OTP. Welcome to my blog. I hope you enjoy the sweet vanilla and spice.

Eventually I'll make a post with the picrews that I used to help me make Alice's concept sheet, but that's for another time. Now onto the next child in this big, happy family.

Picrew

The second oldest was named Barbara Anne, but you'd be forgiven for not knowing that, as everyone calls her Barbie, with her siblings sometimes just calling her Bar. (Alice was the one who first started using that particular nickname when they were very little and it just stuck around.)

Barbie is practically the opposite of her sweet and doting parents. She's a prickly, snarky, and sarcastic misanthrope who prefers animals and 2D characters to humans. Her personality and large stature are usually enough to ward people off. She's taken after her dad with her height and her mom with having a larger frame. Though she's a nerdy otaku, if she hits you, it's going to hurt.

Barbie isn't shy to let people know to back off and leave her alone, quick to deliver barbs and tease others mercilessly if they don't buzz off. Still, like any true tsundere, get past her prickly exterior and there's a softer side that's full of genuine love and affection waiting underneath. The only people she cares about currently are her family and the few friends she made online... and eventually a suitor who is going to need to be a good boy and heel at her command if he wants a chance of making puppies with her.

The most striking thing about Barbie is her eyes. She has central heterochromia, which means both of her eyes are a mixture of brown and blue, not unlike how Papa King's are a mixture of red and blue. She practically lives in t-shirts and sweatpants, which often are themed around anime and games she likes, or offensive snark. Her hair is always a mess, and she keeps it cropped short most of the time so that she doesn't have to bother with it.

Barbie is good with computers and isn't above a little hacking or trolling. Though she's moved out of the King house, she's doing just fine in her own apartment, making money by scamming crypto scammers and the like, among other more legitimate and actually legal jobs.

Don't tell anyone about her secret double life as a streamer with a cutesy anime waifu virtual avatar. She'll make your life hell if you do.

Picrew

Next up is Coraline. I already made a post talking about her and showing off a few of her picrews, so I'll just lightly touch on what I have in mind for her design. She's average height (making her a little taller than big sis Alice), with brown eyes, looks very sickly, and while most of her very curly hair is brown, it lacks some pigment in places. She still lives at home due to her health, and every morning Mama braids her hair up nice and neat, only for it to eventually come increasingly undone and messy by the end of the day. She favors comfortable clothes like sweaters and sweatpants.

The most signature piece of Coraline's look is her pendant. I've actually mentioned the pendant before in a previous post... or at least Alice's version of the pendant and the fact that each King child got one when they were born.

Mama King proposed to Papa with a bouquet of blue roses that she grew specially for them . Blue roses are said to be an impossible flower naturally, very rare, and growing them was her way of showing that she loved him enough to do the impossible for them. Papa preserved each one of the flowers in resin and whenever they're expecting a child, he crafts one into a custom necklace for the child, which is engraved with the baby's name and the date of their birth after they're born.

As an aside, if one of the kids ever wanted to change their name for whatever reason, Papa would be more than happy to alter the inscription to their new name.

The rest of the kids are vague as of the moment, but I know there are at least 4 more of them. They'll be fleshed out eventually over time, along with the pets and any other details about this happy family.

I hope you liked what I've got to share with you so far about the King family, and thanks for showing interest in them. I'm always happy to know that people enjoy my OCs. 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[wanderlustqueen-writes]

Heyyyy, Alice!! Happy Valentines!! 💜💜💜

I was wondering here: which ships are in your Top OTPs? (and why, if you want to share the reason you love them!)

Hiii! Happy belated Valentines day 💖

My top OTPs! Gosh, this is a hard one, I have so many! But I guess some are more special then others...

My top OTPs, in no particular order, are:

Levi x Hange (Attack on Titan)

Stefan x Caroline (The Vampire Diaries)

Doctor x Rose (Doctor Who)

Mulder x Scully (The X Files)

These couples have a lot in common, but I think there are two things that really draw me to them: dedication and team work. These characters would kill and die for each other (or maybe burn up a sun just to say goodbye 😭) but they are also 100% partners in crime?? PERFECT COMBO! Top that with a perfectly developed relationship then splinkle in some tragic ending and mwah 🤌🏽 behold the absolute OTP

Anyways, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk (for real tho, thanks for this ask, I love rambling about my ships)

[sigmundite]

Y'all. I have many ships but one OTP: Guy/Asch from Tales of the Abyss. And for many, many years on this blog my banner has been a random screenshot from the Tales of the Abyss anime (which is on Youtube btw) where they were both in the shot. Yay. (It's a rarepair from an old fandom, I am used to subsisting on crumbs)

NO LONGER!

I've been wanting to update my banner for a long time but wanted something I could properly attribute to an artist, so I commissioned my dear friend @eemamminy-art for art of them that was mine my own my precious

LOOK AT IT. IT'S WONDERFUL! BEHOLD and continue to behold because this will probably be my tumblr banner until the site crumbles to dust, whenever that may be

Today though, I AM FILLED WITH POWER

[pellet-the-cat]

Don't mind my late entry. I've been busy 😓

Hope this makes up for lost time @e-vay

Just thought of drawing these two when I first saw this. So behold! Shadow and April as my childhood OTP.

And for those wondering how she got Shadow to dress up, let's just say it took a WHOLE LOT of negotiating.

Happy Halloween! It’s time to show off your costumes!

Who has the best costume? You tell me!

All are welcome at E-vay’s Halloween Bash 2023! You can draw yourself, your OC, or whomever you want on the blank photo backdrop! Just make sure to tag me so I can see 🎃

P.S. I firmly believe Sonic will agree to any costume that involves bandanas/scarves/ascots

[midnightstargazer]

For the Give Me a Character ask game:

Ted Tonks or Rabastan

Please and thanks

Thanks @nena-96, I'll go ahead and do both!

Character ask game

Ted Tonks

How I feel about this character:

Ted is wonderful! Even though he's a very minor character in canon, there's enough of his personality to get an impression of who he was, and it's very positive. He's someone Andromeda loved enough to choose him over her family, who managed to raise an awesome kid, and who was very, very normal (described as a slob, etc.), but also had an extraordinarily good heart. Very underrated.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Only Andromeda. They're one of the few couples I can't multi-ship at all.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I headcanon that he was friends with Kingsley, and I have a lot of angsty thoughts about his time on the run with Dean Thomas and Dirk Cresswell.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Out of all the Marauders Era/First War characters, he's probably the most desirable as a long-term romantic partner. Not necessarily the most handsome or attractive - that's in the eye of the beholder anyway - and certainly not the most glamorous. But in a game of FMK, I'd choose him for marry, pretty much every time, regardless of the other options.

One thing I wish had happened with this character in canon.

I wish he had survived 😭

--

Rabastan Lestrange

How I feel about this character

Vaguely negative, mostly just meh. He's, canonically, a really horrible person. But he's also basically just a name on the page who doesn't really do anything individually, only as part of a group with more memorable characters. Torturing the Longbottoms, breaking out of Azkaban, the battle at the Department of Mysteries - he's involved in a lot, but everything he does, Bellatrix does, too, and he's just not all that interesting in comparison.

I've used him sometimes as a supporting character in fics. He's very convenient, as a known first war Death Eater and, before that, a Slytherin who most likely went to school with the Black sisters. I've read fics where he was the guy Andromeda was meant to marry, which isn't the route that I'm planning on going in Becoming Andromeda Tonks but I definitely think can work well.

I think what I'm getting at, is that I see him more as a plot device than a character?

All the people I ship romantically with this character

No one

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I guess Bellatrix and Rodolphus?

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don't think I have enough thoughts about him to have an unpopular opinion tbh

One thing I wish had happened with this character in canon.

This is something I literally just came up with on the spot, but I think it would be interesting if he had children. The only Death Eaters' kids at Hogwarts seem to be the ones whose parents got away with pretending to be under the Imperius Curse. But Draco is allowed to come back in HBP, so I assume other children with known Death Eater parents would also be allowed to attend. And this could lead to some interesting interactions in the later books, especially after Voldemort's return and the mass breakout in OotP. Rabastan would work well for this because the Lestrange name is recognizable, but he's not so important to the existing story that it would be a big deal for him to have children.

[catty-words]

[wentian]

HADES II gifs (1/?) "Oh, you were a wonder to behold!"

[rolluptheclouds]

Wow, this made me feel emotional about fandom. After having spent a lot of time in the past year reading fanfiction, having not really done that as fervently and obsessively in many years*, I've had a blast doing so again and I'm so grateful when I find new writing for old media.

Like I won't be covert about it, the Spy x Family fandom got me back into fanfiction - so much wonderful writing out there. And my consequent familiarity with AO3 opened me up to looking for fanfic whenever I dipped into other fandoms. I have even ended up on fanfiction.net and wading through old LiveJournals. I could not remember when I last read anything on ff.net, in like a full decade.

I've been rereading Eyeshield 21 and do you know this series ended in 2009, i.e. 15 years ago! There was a ship I liked and had never, when I was younger, looked it up online. And lo and behold - recent fics and fanart? This year, even? Dear diary, I'm so grateful, I'm so well-fed. Fandom is amazing.

And I love a good ship, but I also love that in manga it sometimes bursts forth from throwaway background details, a few panels, a couple lines of dialogue, maybe those one or two mini arcs that still didn't really affirm that it was love, and yet me and thousands of others felt our hearts move. And all that from a relatively old manga, and for people to still be writing "Them!", "I miss them", "My OTP" in the 2020s onwards. And look, it's not just ships that inspire ardent fan behaviour and creation, just that romance or friendships or any ships really are good at sparking and feeding it. But overall, it is that act of loving something about a story that it does not, cannot, leave your head. I love this about fandom.

How does a story die?

It doesn't.

* I won't say which fandom I used to read fanfic regularly for. It's not a secret, you could probably find it by browsing my older tags and posts. It's more that it's one of those fandoms where staying a fan of that media became disappointing, even hurtful, in recent years.

Deep breath.

I am a solidly middle-aged fangirl, and my last real fan community before OFMD was the X-Files. (I feel like I am not the only one here who fits that description).

The news that we aren’t getting a new season of Our Flag Means Death is hitting me harder than I expected.

So I am thinking about Scully.

There’s this X-Files episode called “Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose.” The plot is about a guy who can see into the future and tell people how they die.

Scully asks him, "How do I die?"

And Clyde Bruckman replies, simply, "You don't."

I've seen fans speculate that Scully winds up becoming immortal by the end of the series. But, 22 years after the end of the show's original run, that line has taken on a new meaning for me.

Scully doesn't die, she can't die, because I still think about her. Scully is immortal because there are fans still writing her into stories, still making art, still getting inspired by her and pursuing medicine and science.

You cannot truly kill a story. You can cancel a TV show. You can, if you're an asshole, make fun of fan creators and their ideas. If you're really an asshole (and a media conglomerate), you can send them cease and desist letters and tell them to stop making art that breathes new life into that story. But the story will not die.

I draw a lot of hope from the long, long history of fandom. The people who loved stories enough to keep them alive, even when it wasn't clear that there would ever be another "official" work in their lifetimes. The Sherlock Holmes fans. The Star Trek fans.

How does a story die?

It doesn’t.

[melsworldofmusesarchived]

 “I want you to be happy.” // kole

Send “I want you to be happy.” for my muse’s reaction to yours telling them this. Accepting

( @dissolvedshadows )

Kole takes Ana’s hand, grasping it in a tender embrace and rests it over his heart. 

“I am happy. I have been since you came into my life. I told you I’d wait for you, and I meant it. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here. And if you decide that this isn’t for you, that’s okay too. I’ll still be happy, because I know you and you were here - you are here.” 

[blazinginbus1]

OTP: Zinematic Close-Ups

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-

Time for the Group Retreat!

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!

Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.

Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world�� story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!

It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.

MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.

Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.

“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”

Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.

“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”

The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”

Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.

“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”

MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”

Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.

“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.

“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”

“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.

“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.

“What?”

“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”

“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”

There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...

Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!

The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.

The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.

MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.

Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.

So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.

Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.

All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.

Even as a baby...

Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.

“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”

Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.

“Quiet, Satan.”

————

“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”

“ITS HENRY 1.0!”

“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”

MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.

Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...

They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.

Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.

Yay! Parenting!

Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.

MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.

Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.

Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.

Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.

“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”

“Nope.”

“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”

It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.

Time for the Formal Dance~

If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.

“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”

“Nope! Why?”

MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!

So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.

Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.

“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”

“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”

“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.” 

“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”

None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.

“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”

The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”

MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.

“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.

“You’re too young to dance.”

“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.

“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.

“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.

“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.

Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”

MC’s face was literally this: >:0

Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.

MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.

When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.

“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”

“Spit it out, Levi!”

“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”

“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”

“...”

“...”

“I MISSED THAT?!”

So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!

How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?

So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.

MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.

And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...

“Grrr...”

MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”

“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.

“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.

Ah! There he was!

“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”

Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”

A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.

“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”

Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.

“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”

“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”

“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.

So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.

Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.

Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.

Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.

Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.

Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.

So they uh... won the pillow fight.

MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.

They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.

He was there a minute ago... weird.

Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.

The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.

Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.

MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.

“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”

Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.

The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.

“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”

“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.

“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.

“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”

“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”

“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.

Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”

“Ah... makes sense...”

“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”

MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”

“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”

“Yogurt and fruit please!”

I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.

Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.

Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.

Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.

MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.

Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.

Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?

Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.

It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.

“Help me!”

MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.

Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.

“MC!”

Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.

“MC! I need help!”

The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.

The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.

They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.

MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…

Oh no.

MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.

What was their father doing up there?

He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-

The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.

What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.

MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.

Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.

If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.

“MC?”

Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Are you coming, or not?”

The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.

When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.

“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.

“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.

Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.

“Belphegor..?”

Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.

“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”

[thatnebbles]

Hi it's Rosie from Twitter~ I know I said this in the replies to your looking-for-compliments post but the reason I reblog the fics of yours that I've read (and shill you like crazy in the tags of parts of my LAL playthrough) is because your writing is by far some of the best I've ever seen. You're definitely my favourite LAL writer bc the way you portray the characters is *chef's kiss*. If I didn't know any better, I would have said you were on the writing team for that game. Every word from their point of view, every line of dialogue you have them speak, I hear it in their voices. I envision everything you write, everything I read, as though it were part of canon itself. It's a wonder to behold. I will always, ALWAYS anticipate new content from you. You're a truly incredible author, and I'm so in awe of you, and so glad you've given me such wonderful content to devour. Especially Heaven's Grove; that one NEVER leaves my mind. Oboryo OTP for life.

WEH.... THANK YOU..... I DONT HAVE ANYTHING ELSE OTHER THAN IM ALL WIBBLY READING THIS.....