#some fighter levels wouldn't be too out there

[errantgoat]

I'm always amused whenever your OC is developed enough to have a mind of their own. I'm writing this in the context of me wanting to shove Harvey into a paladin class for whenever I redo his BG3 playthrough... He outright refuses and shuts down my humble daydreams with a big red 'this wouldn't work because' button. I guess this is just one of the classes (like most of the spellcasters) he just wouldn't get saddled with.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

in his corner

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, boxer!rafe, established relationship, p in v sex, semi public sex, violence but not in great detail, unprotected sex, mentions of rafes anger issues

rafes head is down as you step into the locker room. it's dark and gloomy, no need for bright lights that just illuminate the blood and grime more.

the fleeting sunlight peeking in through the windows only casts light upon the dust floating in the room as you close the door behind you, causing rafe to finally look up.

his eyes shift from pure focus to something softer. “hey.” his voice is still low, slightly hoarse from not speaking most of the day.

“hey.” you move the rest of the way into the room, your footsteps sounding thunderous in the silence that always cloaks the gym before a fight, especially one like this.

“ill be safe.” you see a hint of humor in his eyes now as you roll yours. you always tell rafe to stay safe before a fight, it's become such an expectation that he beats you to it.

“do you have your gloves?” you ask, looking towards his gym bag, wanting to rifle through it to make sure rafe has everything he needs, even though you packed it for him.

“of course.” rafe smiles, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs and pulling you closer into him, his forehead pressing against your stomach.

“you're nervous for this one.” rafe states. he doesn't need to ask, he can tell just by your energy, the way your breathing is more frantic, your eyes opened ever so slightly wider than normal.

“im not the one in the ring.” you hum, hand coming to the back of his neck, stroking over his hairline, taming it despite knowing it's only a few minutes before it's going to get messed up again, either by rafe rubbing at it or the opponent.

“i know.” rafe looks up at you, a soft smile on his face. “but ya love me.”

“mmm, unfortunately.” you joke, a smile flashing across your lips before you drop your head to press your mouths against rafe, the kiss hungry and desperate, knowing it may be your last for a while if rafe gets his lip busted open.

“okay-” rafe sighs, pulling away, restraint in his voice as his insides call to continue kissing you. “it's almost time. love you.”

“love you too.” you back away but keep your eyes locked with rafe until your back is pressed up against the door. “win for me.”

you step out, eyes flickering around his team, waiting in the hallway for you, knowing better than to interrupt your moment with rafe.

“he's ready.” you nod to rafes coach before ducking out of the way as they file into the locker room.

you can hear the noise of the crowd grow as you walk into the arena, rows of seats all facing towards the central octagon. none of the security stops you to ask for a ticket as you walk to the front, rafe has become a headliner at the boxing gym, and you a vip along with it.

you take your seat, a coveted one, right in rafes corner. you know he has supporters, and while you appreciate most of them, the female ones who fawn over him anger you every time they shout his name or try to give him their number, but his quick shut down of advances always washes away the brief resentment.

“hey y/n.” rafes coaches brother, lewis, sits next to you, your de facto personal bodyguard. you insisted you didn't need someone looking over you, but rafe was always worried about a fight starting in the crowd. it certainly wouldn't be the first one that has broken out at a boxing gym.

“hi lewis.” you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and lean back in your seat as the prematch comes out, beginner fighters to keep all the early attendees from getting impatient while the crowd grows and seats fill.

overall, it's a professional arena. not on a pro level by any standards, but the best you can get in the area without making boxing full time. it certainly puts the smaller gyms rafe started out in to shame.

you were the one who originally suggested it. any sort of contact sport to work through some of his anger. you saw it bubbling under the surface, and you knew rafe would never do anything in your presence, even if he wanted to scream and punch a wall, he'd bottle it all in just to not scare you.

you clap as the first round comes to an end, ever the good supporter and attendee. it's part of the reason the gym likes rafe so much, he's no fuss, no personal drama, just pure fighting.

there's more rounds as you wait to see rafe, the rest of the seats being filled along with standing room in the back for anyone getting in late. 

a new referee steps into the ring, a professional with years of experience who doesn't bother with the lower level fights, saving himself for the main event. 

you sit up a little straighter in your seat as your eyes move to the door, a smile stretching over your cheeks as rafe steps out to applause and the thumbing base of a rap song. you applaud as well, keeping your eyes on rafe despite knowing he won't look at you, not until he gets in the ring, some sort of superstition that he's developed as he keeps his head down.

the other fighter comes out to the booming announcement of their name, a silly nickname you immediately disregard. clearly someone trying to rise the ranks and become a well known name, but you can tell just by his stature that rafe will take him down.

you breathe a little sigh of relief as rafe climbs into the ring and looks over to you, a slight smirk you're sure only you can see. he knows just as well as you do that this will be an easy day.

the official facilitates the handshake between the opponents before they're back to their corners to tape wrists and put on gloves, getting everything prepared. you keep your eyes on rafe, of course, taking in his every movement.

you feel a stirring in your stomach as he stands, tank top stretched tight across his body while his shorts are looser, allowing him to move easily around the ring.

you hear a woop coming from the back but know better than to divert your attention, rafe surging forward right when the official starts the round. he wastes no time throwing quick punches before defending, stepping to the side to miss the opponents swipes.

rafe lands a few more blows, but you don't cheer yet. you've made the mistake before of thinking he's in the clear too early.

the movement of rafes body is almost a dance, one driven by passion. his biceps bulge with every punch, swear gathering on his chest, making your mouth water as you watch.

the officials whistle to end the round makes you jump, too wrapped up in rafes looks to pay attention to the fight like you know you should.

you really do try to shift your attention back, but as the next round starts, you're quickly drawn back to watching rafes body and smooth movements. 

every punch he throws makes your legs tighten further, hoping the pressing of your thighs offers you some sort of relief, but any comfort is fleeting.

your body responds for you when the fight comes to end, rising to your feet and clapping as you snap back to attention. rafe of course wins, the opponent not even getting a punch to his face other than a brief touch on his jaw that didn't even knock his mouthguard.

“i knew you'd win.” you smile and step forward as rafe comes to the ropes, leaning over to press his lips against yours.

“let me talk to the team and shower then we'll get out of here, yeah?” rafe kisses you again before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “i can tell you're turned on.”

--

“how'd you know?” you question as rafe shifts the car into drive, his free hand immediately coming to your thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“that you were- are turned on?” rafe smirks, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. “you get a look in your eyes, baby. and i can tell you want me.”

“and i have that look right now?” you hum out, turning the volume up on the radio slightly as the kid cudi song comes on.

“mhm. and it'll only intensify when i do this-” rafes hand slides upwards between your thighs. you quickly part them for him, letting out a soft moan as his fingers rub right where he knows you like it best.

“shit.” you lean back into the seat, trying to keep yourself from jumping over the center console and pouncing on rafe instantly. you pray you don't hit traffic as he presses harder on the gas pedal, ready to get home as well.

“you looked so pretty tonight cheering me on baby.” rafe pushes his fingers harder against your pants, creating tight circles. “even if you were spaced out the entire time.”

“mhm.” you hum, not even truly listening to what rafe is saying, just enjoying the tambor of his voice and the feeling growing in your stomach.

you know when rafe laughs that it's at you and your current state, but you've done far too much and been with him far too long to be embarrassed or ashamed by your lust as you let out another moan.

your eyes are glossy as you turn to look at rafe, hand gripping the wheel tightly with a clear tent in his sweatpants. you blink a few times to clear your vision as you take in his hard set jaw, tension building as he is forced to wait to get inside you.

you reach over to place your hand on rafes crotch, hoping the pressure of your hand sustains him a little longer.

“it's taking everything in me not to pull over and fuck you here in the car.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

you look out the windshield as rafe moves his hand to grip the steering wheel with both hands, needing it now that you're touching him to keep the vehicle steady. “we're almost home.” you hum out, petting your fingertips over his length, contemplating pushing his pants down and bending over the center console, but your clenching pussy needs him.

rafe pulls into the driveway at speeds he shouldn't be going inside a residential neighborhood, the car calming to a halting stop, and not even a second passes before you're out of your seats and out of the car.

rafe beats you to the front door, throwing it open for you to rush inside, locking it tight after you've entered.

you know you won't make it to the bed. you never do on nights like this. both on a high from rafe winning his fight, an easy opponent with not even a scratch to his knuckles.

rafe presses you against the wall of the hallway, his body molding against yours as his lips smash forward into a passionate kiss. you reach between your bodies immediately, knowing you're already soaking wet and ready from rafe playing with you in the car.

you push down on the hem of rafes sweatpants until rafe moves his hips and allows you to shove them down along with his underwear. 

rafe lets out a sigh as your hand wraps around his length, holding his cock in your grasp as you quickly begin to stroke.

“fuck, baby.” rafe places his fist around your hand. “as much as i love you touching me like this i need to be inside you now.”

there's a desperation in his voice that makes something in your chest tighten.

you nod and release him, undoing your button and zipper to shove your pants to the ground and kick them away. rafe grabs the hem of your tshirt before you can take it off yourself, pulling it up over your head before it also joins the clothes scattered around the foyer.

rafe connects your lips back together, his hands sneaking behind your back to undo your bra before pulling the cups off, large palms quickly replacing them as he holds your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze that has your mouth falling open in a satisfied sigh.

“bedroom, counter or right here?” rafe asks, pulling on your lip before you can answer and giving it a tug.

“right here.” you reach down and take rafes cock in your hand, giving it a stroke. “right here, right now.”

“mmm, don't have to tell me again.” rafes arms circle around you and pull you up, pinning you against the wall. your body moves so naturally like it's done a hundred times before, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

rafe lines up his cock with your entrance and sinks forward. your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him in tight, mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing closed as he slowly enters you.

“oh god.” rafe groans, mouth opening as well, but to press his teeth against your skin, biting down gently so as to not actually hurt you, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“fuck me rafe.” your fingertips are digging into his shoulders, trying not to pierce him with your nails as you grip onto his muscles, muscles he just used to pummel his opponent.

“fuck me hard.” you don't often ask for it hard or really give him any direction. rafe knows how to please you, but it's different today. you need his full force, everything he has left in him.

and he doesn't make you wait.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly before slamming in, forcing your ass back into the wall with a thud, your whole body shuddering as he thrusts.

you tighten your arms even more, needing your bodies to become one as he pumps his hips forward, the sound of skin meeting together spreading through the empty house.

tomorrow, you'll clean up the clothes off the floor. tomorrow, you'll make a large breakfast to replenish rafe from his fight and open every window in the house to let in light and air, but tonight, you're going to remain in the dark hallway with your legs wrapped around rafes waist.

“harder.” you beg again, even though you're not sure you can take it.

rafe complies, swinging faster as one of his hands manages to find a way between your bodies, tips of his fingers pressing against your clit. he knows he should fuck you longer, but he can build you up again for the second time in the bedroom, you've teased each other too much and he needs to feel you fall apart in his arms.

“you're so tight and warm.” rafe mumbles, burying his face in your neck as he huffs, absorbing your heart after being apart physically for too long, the cold air of the gym and locker room now being replaced with you.

“i love you.” rafe mumbles, lips against your neck as he presses a few kisses to your throat. “thank you.”

he doesn't need to say what for. you understand. for being with him, for encouraging him to try boxing, for standing by his side and knowing what's best for him even when he didn't know himself.

“i love you.” you moan out, pussy clenching around rafes cock as your high suddenly hits, back arching off the wall in pleasure only to be slammed back against it as rafe pushes as deep as he can go inside of you, the squeezing of your cunt triggering his own high as his cum spurts inside of you.

“f-fuck.” you whine, nails fully leaving marks now as you breathe deeply, chest rising and falling, pressing against rafes with every breath.

“let's go take a bath.” rafe says, his voice suddenly softer, almost like the sex was the last bit of excursion he needed to calm himself after the fight.

“okay.” you can't help but giggle.

despite your agreement, rafe doesn't pull out, his softening cock still inside of you and bodies connected.

“okay.” you repeat, pressing your lips against rafes cheek before resting your head against his, realizing what he needs in that moment. “i love you.”

you stay there, still, for minutes that stretch into what feels like hours, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“okay.” rafe finally responds, eyes blinking with a new clarity, any sort of anger or frustration he had before the fight now freed from inside him. “bath time, yeah?”

[0mg-bird]

i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3

unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?

Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3

Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader

“No.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Absolutely not, Robert.”

Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.

“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."

He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.

You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.

"Yes they will." He says.

"I'm boring."

"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."

He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."

Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."

As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.

"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.

He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."

And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.

"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.

You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.

"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.

Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.

You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.

"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.

"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.

You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.

"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.

"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.

You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.

Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.

Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.

Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.

Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.

"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.

"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.

At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.

"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.

Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.

You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."

He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.

It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.

"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.

"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.

"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.

"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.

As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"

Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."

The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.

"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."

Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."

They all gasp.

"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.

At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.

"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.

"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.

"I'm good on dry land, sailor."

Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."

"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.

"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.

He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"

"Not a chance."

You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"No! Bobby!"

He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.

“Bobby!”

“One.”

“No, baby, please.”

“Two.”

“Robert Floyd!”

“Three!”

He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”

The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.

“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.

“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.

[technoarcanist]

WAR NEVER CHANGES. BUT,

WARFARE NEVER STOPS CHANGING

"I've seen countless reasons why most mech pilots don't make the cut, but one of the largest hurdles are the physical alterations. The implants and modifications done to the fleshware is so extreme that it's enough to push most would-be pilots away from day 1.

Back in the day, when mech tech was still in its wild west years, when the technology was still in its infancy, things were different. Levers, joysticks, switches, a chair, most of the first models were something between the cockpit of a construction vehicle and a fighter ship.

Pilots in those days still consisted largely of the usual suspects. Test pilots, army jocks, space force veterans looking for something new, the occasional crazy who lucked their way up the ranks. All you needed back then was to be fit enough to work complex machinery. 'Handler's wouldn't be a coined phrase for nearly a decade. I still remember being a kid and seeing repurposed older models in the mech fighting streams.

Everything changed with the Bidirectional Cerebellum Computer Interface. To say nothing of how it changed civilian life, it was a military marvel. The BiCCI saw the creation of Mechs as we understand them today. The first generation were just retrofits, older models with a pilot's chair, and even manual controls to use in an emergency, but even then we knew that was only temporary. Before long, sleek frames of sharp angles, railguns and plasma cannons were rolling off the factory floor.

Like many things, it began small, optimising first for cockpit space by removing the manual controls. Before long, my then-supervisors thought, "Why have this glass? Why not hook the pilot's eyesight right into the advanced multi-spectral camera system? Before long, cockpits were but soft harnesses made to house a living body, their very soul wired into the machinery. Obviously, for security reasons, I cannot tell you everything about how our latest cockpits work, but suffice to say we've been further blurring the line between pilot and frame ever since.

This drew a very different crowd. Out were the army jocks and powerlifters. The only ones who even dared to have the interface hardware installed into their brainstem and spinal cord were the dispossessed, the misanthropes, those who sought not to control their new body, but to be controlled by it. No AI can work a mech properly on its own, but our pilots are never really in full control either anymore. Those who do try to go against the symbiosis get a nosebleed at best, and vegetative seizures at worst.

And that was that. The only people left who pilots these things are those who had already been broken, those who sougt a permenant reprive from being anything resembling human. A lot of my department quit around this time. I've lost a few friends over it, I'm not shy to say. Did we knew we'd be bringing in the more vulnerable people? Of course we did. But, the wheels of progress must turn, as they say, and it wasn't like we were shy of volunteers.

In our latest models, we have refined an even more advanced frame. Again, security detail prevents me from divulging too much, but one breakthrough we've made is decreasing action latency by approximately 0.02s by amputating the limbs from our pilots and replacing them with neural interface pads.

Using the pads where the limbs once were, pilots are screwed directly into the cockpit, which itself can now be 30% smaller thanks to the saved space. And, of course, we provide basic humanoid cybernetics as part of their employment contract while they are with us. Not that most of them are ever voluntarily out of their cockpits long enough to make use of them. Even removing the tubes from their orifices for routine cleaning incurs a large level of resistence.

And, yes, some of them scream, some of them break, some become so catatonic that they might as well be a peripheral processor for their mech's AI. But not a single one, not even one pilot, in all the dolls i've ever trained, have ever accepted the holidays we offer, the retirement packages, the stipends.

As you say, there are those who like to call me a monster for my work. I can see why. After all, they don't see the way my pilots' crotches dribble when I tell them I'll be cutting away their limbs, or the little moans they try to hide when we first meet and I explain that they'd forever be on the same resource level as a machine hereafter.

Those who call me a monster don't realise that, even after going public with how we operate our pilots, even after ramping up mech frame production, we still have more than twice as many volunteers as frames.

Those who call me a monster cannot accept that my pilots are far happier as a piece of meat in a machine of death than as the shell of a human they once were.

Those who call me a monster never consider the world my pilots grew up in to make them suitable candidates in the first place."

-Dr Francine Heathwich EngD

Dept. Cybernetic Technologies @ Dynaframe Industries

[In response to human rights violations accusations levied by the Pilot Rehabilitation Foundation]

[maliciousblog]

Fighter (Jungkook)

Warning: This is a dead dove fic ⚠️

You've always been a fan of MMA practising boxing and jujitsu in your spare time. It was a welcome distraction from your busy life.

Hitting the gym after a stressful day of being a corporate slave did ease the tension and helped you blow off some steam.

Learning jujitsu opened up a whole new world for you as you got more immersed into the sport you took a keen liking to watching it as well.

Soon enough you and your gym buddies would meet up over the weekend to watch fight broadcasts which eventually turned into you buying tickets to live matches.

It gave you a sort of adrenaline high.

It made you forget about your worries even if it were for a little while.

This weekend was no different than any other you and your friends were seated on the ring side.

Watching new fighters try to work their way up the ranks serving as an opening act for the main event.

They generally never really caught your attention much as most of them were just clumsy amateurs  trying to make it big.

Concentrating more on your beer at hand.

The commentator was introducing a new rookie from Korea Jeon Jungkook.

Fighting on a 2 loss streak this was his last chance to prove himself otherwise as a rookie he wouldn't be able to get a fighting contract.

Out of curiosity you looked up only to find him looking directly at you nervously sliding from one leg to another which was understandble given the fact that this one fight decided if he would have a career or not. The end was near for him.

He didn't have much hope or faith in himself.

He had sacrificed his all for his dream and now he slowly saw it drifting away from his grasp.

His head was filled with a million thouts

Voices crowded his mind of self doubt and anxiety as he made his way into the ring.

The sound was deafening he felt as if his head would explode.

Until suddenly everything went silent he became painfully aware of every detail in complete silence as he locked eyes with you.

It was as if for the first time in a long while he felt at ease.

He felt grounded

His breath leveled back to normal

The tremor in his hand subsided as he stood there entranced by you.

Until he heard the bell ring.

The referee pulling him into the centre of the ring starting the fight.

The first round went better than expected he was able to land a couple of punches causing some damage to his opponent.

He dominated the first round demonstrating his skill and impressive striking.

The second round he was grounded by his opponent jungkook knew he excelled in striking but lacked in wrestling and ground work

Using his weakness against him sending a powerful blow to his face which resulted in a deep gash.

With blood rushing down his face clouding his sight.

The fight had brought the audience to the edge of their seat the last round would decide who would win.

Jungkook was exhausted and bloody and beaten maybe it was best to accept defeat at this point things weren't going his way either way.

If he didn't win this fight he wouldn't have anything to return to he gave up all his savings to recieve training.

He had been alone all his life his parents died when he was about 5 leaving him to his grandfather who ran a boxing gym.

This is where he grew up this was all he ever knew ever since he was a child.

It wasn't soon when his grandfather too passed away leaving him all alone yet again. He promised that he would become world champion one day it was either that or he wouldn't want to live.

Without this life wasn't worth living.

The voice of self doubt took over once again he felt defeated he didn't know how much longer he could go on.

But they were once again silenced .

Silenced by your cheers it was the first time in his life that someone cheered for him.

You a complete stranger believed in him at that more than anyone ever did in his entire life.

At that moment you were all he needed your cheers gave him the strength to fight the last round knocking his opponent to the ground earning him the first victory in his professional career.

After the event he tried to find you in the crowd but you were no where in sight his lucky charm.

He knew he had to find you.

The days that followed he started training with a new found energy it was like he was a whole new man.

He gained confidence and knew that he had to work on his technique especially his wrestling.

His coach recommended a local jujitsu gym where he should begin training.

With his gym bag hanging on his shoulder he stepped into the gym.

And began sparring on the mat for about an hour or so not really caring about the building up fatigue.

Nearly spent he was about to call it a day until he saw something flash over the corner of his eye

He watched as you and your sparring partner giggled while tossing each other around.

It was a strange experience each time he saw it was like he was reborn.

It felt as though he was given a second chance at life ever since he saw you.

He couldn't work up the courage to speak to you that day so he tried his best to impress with his fighting skills despite being exhausted he sparred until you left in hopes of seeing you for as long as he could.

Packing up for the day he was just about to head back home as his phone began to buzz in his back pocket. To his surprise it was his manager informing him that his latest win had landed him a fighting contract and that he was scheduled for an upcoming fight that would offer his a decent pay check.

He was extatic things were finally turning around for him. He credited this win again to you.

It couldn't possibly be a coincidence he saw you the first time he won and now he again met you the day he got a contract.

He was sure that you were his lucky charm.

His suspicion was proved right when in his next fight there you were in the front row

That day he won by knockout and he won his next fight as well similarly with you right by his side.

It could no longer be a coincidence in his mind you were cemented as his lucky charm and he felt that he wouldn't win without as you sit obliviously to his strange theories by the ring you begin to feel a little uncomfortable with the way he is starting at you as if you would disappear the second he looks away.

Bruhsing it off as him probably being disoriented after the fight you didn't think too much of it.

But soon the feeling was harder to shake off he started showing up to your gym more often training when you would train offering to be your sparring partner which you kindly declined.

Given that you preferred to stick to your friends he wouldn't let any man near you either

His possessiveness was starting to creep you out. He wasn't your boyfriend but would tell everyone that he was and when you confronted him about this he told you that it would help keep the creeps away from you.

But who was going to tell him that he was the one creeping you out.

It didn't stop at that he would often wait until you finished to walk you to your car in the guise of keeping you safe or the way he would constantly borrow your stuff saying that he had forgotten his at home.

Soon things like your clothes started to go missing from your gym bag as he snuck them out as souvenirs.

As he clutched a bouquet of roses he followed you to your car today was the day he would finally confess and make you his.

He patiently waited for you to finish your session as he walked you out as usually but before you got into your car.

He stopped you.

You saw his face change to a shade of pink as he looked like a giddy school boy.

He held out the bouquet of roses to you confessing his love and undying affection for you.

It was sweet and he looked so hopefull but you couldn't lie to him and tell him you felt the same.

You tried to be as gentle as you could trying to let him down.

But he was in denial he didn't understand how you couldn't see that you were meant to be you were soulmates it was destiny.

He wasn't relenting so you just ripped off the bandage.

"Listen I said I don't like you it don't understand why that's so hard to get into that thick skull of yours leave me the fuck alone"

He stood there stunned as you stormed off slaming your car door and promptly driving off.

You saw his reflecting in your rear view mirror his eyes were glossed over and he looked like a kicked puppy with his head held low the bouquet of roses that he had so carefully picked out now layed on the cold concrete floor.

He watched as you disappeared off into the night.

It was obvious that you were playing hard to get. That's okay he would just smother you with love until you didn't say yes. Otherwise he would just have to turn to move unpleasant measures at least unpleasant for you he would surely enjoy what he would do to you.

Everyday he would show up at opening time at the gym and leave at closing in hopes of catching you but as the days went by you didn't show up.

You thought it was best to lay low for a couple of days for the awkwardness to wear off.

When he couldn't find you at the gym he started to show up at your office just waiting outside the parking lot waiting for you.

You could only avoid him for so long, soon he began to show up wherever you went it was starting to scare you.

You reached your breaking point when one day you were sleeping you heard the door to your apartment rattle as if someone was trying to break in.

You could hear him on the other side yelling at you to open the door.

" Open the fucking door. Why do you have to make this so difficult.

We are meant to be why can't you just accept it?

I'll do anything for you just tell me what I need to do.

I'll do anything just open the door I just want to talk to you.

I'll treat you so well no one can love you the way I do those jerks that you flirt with at the gym can't love the way I do.

What we have is something special they wouldn't understand.

Open the fucking door or I'm going to break it down. "

You saw the hinged of the door begin to come off as he started to break it down.

You were sure he was going to murder you tonight if it wasn't for security showing up

It took five men to subdue with great difficulty.

Eventually the cops had to be called to restrain him.

He was let out of jail with nothing more than a slap on the wrist as the fighting leage didn't want their top new prospect to not show up for his fights.

The cops adviced you to leave town and lay low for a while because there was nothing they could do about him as he hadn't hurt you yet.

And the officials at the fight leage would simply bail him out each time as his fights were starting to bring in money.

You packed up your essentials in a hurry and headed to your parents home in the country side to get as far away from him as possible.

He was warned by his manager to not get into trouble for a while as he had a big fight coming up that would bring him close to fighting for the championship.

He trained hard every single day maybe if he became champion you would finally love him.

Even when he coughed up blood from overtrainig

He never stopped he had to win.

When fight day came his eyes anxiously scanned the crowd for your face.

You surely couldn't have abandoned him now.

You were his lucky charm

The calm in an ocean of noise

Without you hear he wouldn't win.

He has to have you

How could you betray him like this all you had to do was show up.

The fight commenced and he was on a 4 fight winning streak he couldn't risk losing it when he was climbing up the ranks.

He gave it his all and nearly lost the fight the only reason he won was because of a technicality and a penalty awarded to his opponent he was beat up and his ego was severely bruised.

He blamed his near loss on you how was he supposed to win without his lucky charm.

His delusion was only further proved by the outcome of the fight.

He began to become superstitious and was convinced that it would bring bad luck if he didn't have you.

His only dream in life was to be world champion and he wasn't about to let your refusal stand in his way.

He had to take matters into his own hands he had to make discussions for you because you clearly don't know what's good for you.

Without wasting even a second still covered in blood and sweat he pulled on a jacket and fired up his truck to your home.

He knew where you parents lived he would occasionally show up at night to watch you through the window when he couldn't sleep your presence calmed him down.

He knew he had to lure you out some way or another.

That's when a sinister idea popped into his mind.

He took out a burner phone a dialled your number.

When he heard your voice greet him.

" I'm not going to repeat myself.

Be a good girl and come out. We are going on a little trip just you and I.

If you want to be bad and stay inside I'll just simply come in and drag you out but if I have to do that I can't guarantee the safety of your parents.

They are old and weak you wouldn't want them to get hurt now would you.

I certainly wouldn't mind sending them to an early grave so now be a good Little girl and come with me "

You knew he wasn't joking he was more than capable of killing a grown man let alone your aging parents and living in the country side meant that you couldn't even call for help by the time you did he would have easily murdered your entire blood line.

You had no option but to comply as you snuck out through the back door trying not to wake your parents up maybe some day you'd be able to see them again if he didnt end your life this instant.

Sneaking out you were met with his face a sinister grin plastered across his face.

It was still bloody with most of the blood having dried down you assumed he left the ring directly to find you it was only a matter of time.

He opened the door for you shoving you in as you hesitated.

You were paralyzed with fear he was like a wild animal that was pushed into a corner and wounded he was unpredictable.

All you could do now was comply.

As he sped through the empty highways you knew that if you didn't escape now you wouldn't ever leave.

When his eyes were glued to the road ahead you hesitantly unlocked to lock to the passenger side door.

Just as you were about to open the door to the moving car and make your escape.

You felt his hand grabbing the back of your neck with a bone crushing grip slamming your head into the dashboard effectively knocking you out cold.

He pulled you back and rested your head back onto the seat.

Gently brushing a few strands of hair off your face as he occasionally admired as he drove off.

You looked so peaceful like this so calm and serine he could spend his entire life admiring you.

After an hours drive you finally reached your destination it was a quaint little house just outside the city he had bought it with his first major pay check for you.

He had invisioned his entire future with you by his side today was only the beginning of your life together.

He couldn't help but smile in content as he carried your unconscious body into the threshold of your new home.

He layed you down on a soft mattress in a room he had designed to your liking the sheets matching to the walls painted in your favourite colour.

Slowly coming back to consciousness.

The side of your head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it.

You were slightly disoriented as you tried to take in your surroundings the soft mattress underneath you did little to provide you with comfort.

What little sense of safety you felt vanished as you saw him at sitting beside you running his calloused hands across your naked skin.

"I hope you don't mind I had to get you out of those filthy clothes. It wouldn't have had to be this way if you understood my love for you I never would have had to go this far."

A chill randown your spine as he began to go on and on about how he bought this house for you and how much he was looking forward to spend the rest of your lives together.

"I've done so much for you. I keep you safe.

I bought you this house that matches your liking I all but worship the ground you walk on don't you think I deserve something in return for all I have done for you. "

He said as he straddled your hips.

He tried to fight him off all only to land one punch on him reopening a cut that he had sustained in the fight as blood gushed down his face onto yours

You watched in horror as he seemed completely unfazed by it.

Infact he almost seemed excited by the sight of it.

" Guess I'll just have to fuck the fight out of you"

He grabbed both of your wrists with one one hand pinning you down.

His other hand roaming your body groping you as he pleased.

Ripping off the final coverings from your body leaving you bare for his hungry eyes to shamelessly eye fuck you.

He leaned down to kiss you to which you turned away.

The second time he tried his patience began to wear off with your non compliance wearing his patience thin.

He wasn't having any of it.

Before you could try to push him off you felt a searing slap land on your face the force of which whipped your head to the side.

Before you could even react to it another one followed then another he slapped you around like a rag doll mercilessly raining pain on you he only stopped when you tasted metallic blood on your tounge seeping in from your cheeks.

The fear in your eyes turned him on the fact that he has so much power over you at any given moment he could take your life without even having to try.

You were completely at his mercy and he wasn't feeling very generous today.

You trembled under him knowing that it was best to just comply.

"If you behave this can be a pleasurable experience for the both of us , and if you don't well I don't really care. I'll get what I want either way."

Having you immobilised with fear just made it easier for him to take advantage of you.

He still loved you in his own sick and twisted way and wanted you to feel good too.

He slide down your body grabbing your hips sliding them down to eye level as he spread apart your legs.

His breath fanning over your cunt making you shiver.

You tried to close them but either hand on your thighs held them down like chains.

He teased you gently running his toung through the expanse on your sex.

Slowly building up his pace while lapping you up.

His fingers teased your entrance as you bucked your hips towards him to get some sort of contact our of desperation he loved how needy you had gotten as he ate you out.

Edging you until you were on the verge of tears begging him to let you realse.

He loved the pained look of desperation on your face it made him feel needed.

He would move his tounge skillful working you up to your high only to stop just before you came.

He did this for what seemed like hours.

Teasing you torturing you with pleasure.

The frustration building up in your body was clouding your vision you needed to release one way or another it had gotten to a point where it was almost painful.

He himself could feel his cock strain against the fabric of his underwear.

Big and angry just waiting to burry itself into your soft warm walls.

As much as he enjoyed watching you be a desperate slut.

He needed some action himself.

Moving up caging you between his arms.

You didn't have much energy left in you with the assault he earlier did and the hours of edging you were completely spent.

As he slowly tried to fit his massive girth inside of you.

It was a tight fit as you tried weekly pushing him away telling him it was too much to handle.

He reassured you that you would be fine and to be a good girl and take whatever he gives you.

Once fully inside it felt as if he was splitting you open.

He tried his best to go as slow as he could but the months of pent up frustration and rage all led up to this moment.

He couldn't hold it in anymore as he drilled you into the mattress.

Your finger nails drew crimson marks all along his back as he brought you from one orgasm to another barely giving you rest between them.

It was like he was in a daze finally getting his hands on what he so desperately crave

[ardbar]

do you think with EMF as champion and parkour civilization no longer under constant threat there with be development of art? like parkour performances and festivals for example? Or the introduction of redstone parkour via the command blocks (since literally any element could be summoned into existence so long as EMF was imaginative enough) I feel like EMF would be better at inventing concepts like that given that he's never wanted for shelter or food. (Being born a master and all so it makes sense he's not great at imagining new buildings and homes). What he has always striven for is harder parkour/ways to progress his skill, so i feel like him being good at imagining new methods for it wouldn't be too big a stretch given he's had time to settle into his role of champion

Okay wait so there’s a lot to unpack here but there’s something I have to say first and this comment isn’t just directed at you but guys EMF was born on the noob level that’s not a head canon it’s fact. I don’t blame people for not knowing this since it was cut out of the second movie but in the episode, “Minecraft but I Discover the HISTORY of PARKOUR CIVILIZATION” Evbo uses the command blocks to see what the world was like before the evil champion took over and he see’s EMF on the noob level with leather boots. I don’t know why this wasn’t included in the super cut but yeah it has somewhat important materials in it and it teased Seawatt going to the parkour fighters level.

Okay little rant over now I’ll address the actual point of your comment. I do agree that EMF would usher in an era of advancement when it comes to Parkour, however, I am reluctant to believe that it would bleed over into the arts. While I do think it would be really cool and of course I’m kinda speaking out of my ass here but I don’t think it would make much sense. In their world basically everything revolves around parkour being used as both a currency and a way to settle disputes, while possible for both to exist I think it would be unlikely. However that isn’t to say it’s impossible given that even their writing is in Parkour it is possible that everything including the preforming arts would make use of Parkour in some type of fashion. I think it would be funny if the battles incorporated this aspect into a dance battle format but with parkour.

Back to parkour advancing I think that would make a lot of sense. The champion before Evbo definitely didn’t want things to change or for people to grow in their skills, if he ever introduced too many new ideas it would greatly increase the odds that he would be beaten, I would view this time period as a type of dark age. Now the Old Man’s civilization I think would be rather interesting in terms of advancement. We know that he did try and introduce new ideas into the world examples being the barrier blocks and totems. However, he was also reluctant to certain changes if we look at him hating the parkour races. Little side note I think this fact is rather strange, I know in canon it’s because people would die from the races, but don’t they die anyway? I forget if it ever says it makes it impossible for people to respawn or is somehow different than other parkour battles but yeah. Anyway I think while amenable to change he could still be stuck in his ways somewhat and scared of radical changes. Now I think EMF would differ from both of the champions we have information about. I especially think EMF would be welcoming to all types of new ideas especially since Evbo has become the god of parkour. I could see him believing that coming up with new ways to do parkour or to shake things up as a type of worship to his god or as some type of offering. I also think that because Evbo is the parkour god he wouldn’t be too worried about anyone doing nefarious things because if anything ever does go wrong than evbo could step in. These two factors I think would lead to a type of parkour renaissance. As you mentioned I do think red stone would play a large role in this. What I think would be interesting about red stone becoming commonplace is I could see their society moving away from impromptu battles. Instead of people making their own course to fight there might be a type of parkour colosseum with prebuilt courses that people either race on or it could be a last man standing type of situation. If this were to happen I could see parkour kind of shifting into the arts, as it stops being a means of battle and more of a spectacle and a kind of honor.

I think a really interesting point you made was about parkour festivals. I wonder how this would take shape. We know that people did do rituals at the parkour temple to try and get the attention of the parkour god to no avail. I wonder if these types of festivals would actually carry a lot of weight now that there is an active parkour god or would they remain a thing of the past brought back as a fun memory, like how we celebrate holidays but without any of the orginal historical value.

These were just a few ideas I had on this matter.

[yuri-is-online]

Traditional Fantasy AU! Yuu who lives with Idia and Ortho in a little town next to the dungeon tm everyone’s adventuring through. Idia's there as part of his duties with S.T.Y.X. keeping an eye on the monsters and the strange resurrections of mages the labrynth allows.

TFAU! Yuu who has no memories before being woken up by Grim in the bed Idia's set aside for them, but has a strange draw to the labrynth and a need to go somewhere in it.

TFAU! Idia who gently forbids them from going, and tries to distract them by teaching them how to make and upkeep various machinery adventures might need, but still insists on teaching them how to shoot a gun. Just in case.

TFAU! Ortho who sneaks out to adventure every once in a while and tells Yuu all about the dungeon and convinces them they need to go even more. They talk about how much fun it would be to go through the floors with Idia, and try to come up with ways to convince him to come with them.

TFAU! Yuu who finds themselves in the Adventures Guild one day to drop off an order and see a red headed idiot talking about what easy money the job he's looking at will be and they can't help but laugh.

"Can't you see it's a scam? That's waaaay too much money for such a simple job!"

TFAU! Ace who gets really mad and starts an argument with the local magicless weirdo about how he could totally do this job, they just wouldn't know because they're stupid, which causes a fight between him, you, your cat, and some random fighter who swears he just wanted to talk things out (promise!) that breaks a bunch of expensive items in the guild and now you have to take the job or go to jail.

TFAU! Ramshackle Party of first years all really happy with their unexpected success in the dungeon... until Idia shows up clearly worried out of his mind over Yuu and legitimately angry that they went into the dungeon, equally terrified when Ortho confirms he's been sneaking out too.

"Promise you'll stick to the upper levels. And no entering melee. And keep together. And-"

TFAU! Idia who goes back to his desk and stares at a letter he's been meaning to send since you woke up months ago, hands shaking as he thinks about what the others will say if they find out he's been lying about your condition. If they find out he's letting you go back there again.

Traditional fantasy ayuu where there is something clearly wrong with Yuu but no one notices until it's almost too late.

Again.

[milkywaydrabbles]

geto and 39? :>

A/N: foaming at the mouth I love Geto sm. I'm not sure if this was quite enough body worship but also I feel like he wouldn't be that obvious with it, especially after his defection and leading up to the night of 100 curses. But I am a FIRM believer he would try to baby trap. Hope you like it mwuah

CW: riding, pet names, baby trapping

Body worship x Geto Suguru

"A-ah, Geto-Sama!" Thrust. "Please, beautiful." Thrust. "I thought I asked you to call me Suguru when we're alone." Thrust.

It had been a few months since you and Geto had met each other. You, an apparent normal human being who has been saying what you thought to be ghosts for your entire life. You had ignored them the best you could, being in and out of psychiatric hospitals because of your bouts of fear with the paranormal. Society had shunned you for your "insanity". But you knew they were there, even if you were the only one who saw them. Eventually, you faked being cured of whatever level of psychosis they thought you had, stopping the medication that sedated you. You simply learned to pretend they weren't there. It got easier as the years progressed, however some days were more difficult than others, depending on the size of the curse, and depending on how in your face it wanted to be. You thought you would just live like this—on the verge of a mental breakdown one day at a time. Until you met Geto.

You saw him one day, at the tail end of swiping away at one that seemed to be a pretty big nuisance for him, before condensing it into a black orb and ingesting it. You couldn't help but stare, eyes wide and hands trembling. It was someone else that saw them, someone else that can do something about them. There was no way you hallucinated that. He glanced over at you in disgust that a monkey would even have the audacity to look at him. But tears accumulated in your eyes, and you whispered "you see them too?" 

He softened immediately after that. 

Geto took you in, soothing your tears after telling him all the terrible years you've endured. Days turned into weeks, of helping you understand what the world of jujutsu is, of what curses are, of his end goal. Weeks turned into months, of him letting you stay with him even though you weren't a fighter, and your healing abilities were barely sustained. He let you stay because he had a soft spot. And feelings emerged. Started to cherish you, started to steal glances, fingers grazing just a bit more than deemed normal.

Geto was in love with you. The rest of them could see it, but they wouldn't dare say anything around him.

"Ah—fuck—'msorry Suguru" you hiccuped, bouncing on his lap, cock buried deep inside your sloppy pussy. Suguru loved you like this, chest to chest, as close to him as possible. It felt right this way. "Let me take care of you, pretty girl. You deserve it" he slowed his movements, wanting to take his time with you. Suguru placed open mouthed kisses on your chest, lavishing your nipples under his tongue. "You're so perfect" he'd whisper, hands caressing your back like he was holding a doll. "I can't believe I've gone my life without you." Another kiss to your chest, and a suck to your other nipple. You gasped, clenching around his dick, juices flowing freely over his balls. "Suguru," you whined "feels good." He kissed your neck, and pressed you closer to him. A hand came up to your head to pull you down for a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate, taking his time to taste you fully. "I want to make you feel good always, my perfect baby. Taking me so well, your pussy was made for me." Another clench and whine, head lulling to the side out of sheer bliss. "Never want to let you go" he murmured, though he wasn't sure if you heard it. 

Geto quickened, a hand coming in between your bodies to rub at the swollen nub at the apex of your thighs. You cried out and tightened around him, orgasm closing it. "Come on, beautiful. Cum for me, I want to feel your cute little cunt milking me" Suguru bit at your neck, angling his hips to hit that delicious squishy part inside you that made you see stars. "S-suguru! A-ah fuck, oh fuck" you cried out, legs trembling and body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. You rode out your high as Geto continued to pump his length into you. "Gonna cum in you, pretty, gonna fill you up." He thrusted into you a few more times before shooting his load into you. He fucked his cum into you, wanting more than anything to keep it inside that puffy cunt of yours. 

I love you, I love you, I love you.

He was going to make sure it took, that you'd get pregnant. You wouldn't leave him now, he was sure of it. But he needed a guarantee.

[foundtherightwords]

🏛 👑⚔️"Gladiator II" thoughts 🏛 👑⚔️

Before I start, I have to say that (and please don't throw me into the Colosseum for this) I think the first "Gladiator" is just okay. A solid epic historical/action flick, sure, but to me it's no more than that. And... well, "Gladiator II" is more or less the same, but with a less tight script and therefore less emotional resonance.

It's my biggest issue with the movie. The spectacles are great and the action sequences are solid, but I'm not interested in any of the characters (with the exception of the emperors and Macrinus.) They're all very one-note. To be fair, Acacius doesn't require a lot of dimensions and Pedro did a good job with the character, but Lucius and Lucilla... meh. For a movie that is 148 minutes long, it feels oddly rushed; I felt like I never had the time to get to know the characters or become invested in their fates.

On to the good parts: like I said, the emperors and Macrinus. The review that says Denzel is acting on another level and Joe is the only one that comes close to matching him is spot-on. Out of all the characters, Geta and Macrinus are the only two with some depth. Denzel is amazing, affable and gregarious one minute and then chilling and menacing the next. As for Geta, maybe I'm just biased, but it's so easy to make him one-dimensional too, except Joe imbued the character with nuance and subtlety, so although we don't get to spend a lot of time with them, we understand these two emperors and their dynamic very well. Fred also did great with Caracalla - in fact, if his character wasn't so deranged and erratic and Fred didn't play that to perfection, Geta wouldn't stand out as the sane one as much as he did. They really were the perfect double act.

OK, so those are my spoiler-free thoughts. If you haven't seen the movie, click away now! It's going to be all spoilers from here! This is your last warning! (Oh and I'll start posting my Geta fic next Tuesday. Here's a preview; if you want to be tagged, drop me a comment!)

Now if you don't mind spoilers, read on...

When we found out that Ridley Scott had done a switcheroo and made Geta the elder brother (interestingly, the subtitle at my theater has Caracalla as the elder, which suggests the translator did more historical research than Sir Ridley and his writer!), I guessed that the movie would still follow a bit of historical facts with Macrinus manipulates Caracalla into killing Geta (OK, the bit about Macrinus manipulating Caracalla is not historical, but Caracalla killing Geta is), and then Macrinus would kill Caracalla to take the throne. Well...

And Geta's death is... my God. I gasped out loud in the theater. The head afterward was a bit goofy, but I can't say it's not effective. Poor Joe. Not only his characters always get killed, they often get killed in the gnarliest ways too.

I'm very annoyed at those early reports saying that the emperors have about 20-30 minutes of screen time though. It's more like 10! This video?

That's basically all of Joe's scenes! (Fred gets more, obviously, but not by much.)

And again, I wish they would stop using cut scenes as promo (like with AQPD1), because this still?

Never happens.

The final fight between Lucius and Macrinus is weirdly anti-climactic. Macrinus is never set up as a great fighter anyway, so there is no tension in Lucius facing him.

Also, I know I complain a lot about the lack of historical accuracies, but the ending particularly annoys me because it makes it seem like Rome is finally getting better, except it wasn't! After the terrible reign of Caracalla, we get the even worse reign of Elagabalus, and then Severus Alexander, which is basically the calm before the storm that is the Crisis of the Third Century. So if Sir Ridley is doing "Gladiator III", I'd like to see how he wriggles his way out of that!

[redsrooftopprincess]

Renfaire Headcanons

Okay everyone! Faire (Renaissance Festival) just wrapped and I'm sad, so I'm making it everyone else's problem. Here are some headcanons!

Leo

Faire can be a lot for Leo. There are a lot of moving parts, and if you're at a crowded faire, expect him to be on guard at all times. But, if you're at a smaller faire and/or you can get him to relax, he's actually a blast.

Chivalry is this guy's middle name, or it would be if he had a middle name. Does he have a middle name? If he does, you've never heard it. The minute you walk in, he's looking for the flower vendor. Expect a lot of "Yes, my (honorific of choice)," "No, my (honorific of choice)." Kisses to the back of your hand while looking deeply into your eyes. The works. This guy is Prince Charming, and just like all the other roles in his life, he takes it seriously.

His favorite events are the Joust and the Falconer. He's placing "gentleman's bets" on the knights with Raphael, and they have a really great time just being brothers and watching sports. He also loves the falconer and spends almost an hour chatting with him after the demonstration is over. By the end, the falconer is so charmed they help him leather-wrap his arm/hand (they don't exactly have a glove that fits), and teach him to fly the birds.

As for games, he won't pick up a sword because he knows it wouldn't be fair, but he really enjoys showing off his archery skills. And show off he will. Mike may be the one usually grabbing hold of the spotlight, but don't think for one second that Leo can't be a showman. Especially if it's something he knows he's good at. Any and all archery/ninja combo tricks he can think of, and by the end the hay bale will be reduced to a scattered pile. Be watchful of his anxiety levels before he heads to the range, however. If he's not in a good place, all the attention/cameras could cause him to panic.

As for food, all the greasy, fried things don't really sit well with him. He does, however enjoy High Tea with the queen, and will spend a lot of that time cleverly waxing poetic about you and making elegantly veiled innuendos, while you blush furiously into your cucumber sandwiches.

Shopping will be all about you. He lives to spoil you, and if you even *hint* that you like something, expect it to "randomly" show up in your bags when you're unpacking at the end of the day. He might even be using this as an opportunity to figure out your ring size and/or what types of jewelry/stones you like.

...

Raph

Expect your knight in shining armor to be doing his job. If it's a crowded faire, he won't be as visibly anxious as Leo, but expect him to be a little distracted while keeping an eye on everything. Very protective, but it only takes one conversation for you to explain to him that you're dressed like this because you want to be noticed. Still eyes anyone who seems like they might be getting a little too handsy.

Once he's more comfortable with people just randomly coming up to hug you and others standing at a distance to ogle you, he's good. Raph loves an excuse to get out and have a good time, and RenFaire is not only no different, but it's one of those places that tends to embrace the weird. Rather than screaming and running people are enthralled and constantly asking him how he made his "costume." ("Trade secret" 😉). 🤭

He loves the Joust and he and Leo will have a great time betting and bonding, loser buying the next round of drinks. But Live Steel Combat is by far his favorite. The second he passes by a pit of armored combatants beating the shit out of each other, he's hooked. After the fight, he spends some time talking to the fighters and even exchanging techniques.

Raph doesn't care about showing off, he's just there to have a good time, so he'll be a little surprised when he turns around after spending 15 minutes destroying the dagger/hatchet throw boards to see a crowd has gathered. He'll recover quickly, however. Activate Full *Gaston* mode. Showing off and shooting flirty winks and comments at some of the more thirsty patrons that are paying attention to some of his more dexterous moves. Flexing at every opportunity. But don't worry, his last trick will be hitting the bullseye while dipping you into a kiss that reminds you that he's only yours. Drink up those nasty looks. You've earned them.

My guy likes to keep it simple when it comes to food. How many turkey legs? How many you got? They will learn to dread the hulking figure in red and green coming up to the stand, and you may have to gently remind him at one point that the other patrons need to eat, too. After that, he'll be happy to try the other things, he'll particularly enjoy the scotch egg.

On vendors row, he spends more time talking with with artisans and craftspeople than doing any actual shopping, and will end up leaving with "gifts" to get started on his own projects. He particularly likes the leatherworkers and fiber artists. Don't think he isn't paying attention, though. Weeks later, you'll start finding handmade gift on your windowsill similar to, but more beautiful than, those things he noticed you notice.

...

Donnie

It isn't often this artificer gets to indulge in the *other* side of the geekdom coin, he carves out a few hours a week for D&D, but other than that, his mind won't let him get away from his engineering fixation all that often. But when you give him an opportunity to flex his creative side while still making his "gotta-build" brain happy, he'll put your ass to work. You'll spend the months leading up to faire together, in the back of the lab building matching steampunk engineer costumes that actually freaking work. Expect to own the competition.

The costume contest is, of course, the most important event. You may not make it if he spends too long talking about your rigs with interested parties, so set timers and plan for people to stop the two of you on your way there. After easily taking the win and smugly taking your hand, kissing it, and helping you down the wooden steps, expect him to look for the Irish Step Dancers. The rhythm and synchronicity will help him regulate after all the attention.

Donnie will munch on whatever sweet, fried thing you put in front of him, but he seeks out the mead tent. He doesn't drink much or often, but he does appreciate the time and care that goes into the fermentation process, and he'll really enjoy trying every flavor they have before buying a bottle of your favorite for the two of you, and another one that his father might like.

Donnie is not really interested in the wares in the vendor booths, so this time with you is all about research. Much like Leo, he's learning what you like and what you don't like. Colors, textures, patterns, all filed away for later. If you find something you really love, he'll pull the "I'll be right back," move, once you're three booths away, then hand the bag to you without a word, link his arm with yours, and keep walking. He may also have a discrete conversation with the leatherworker about some *ahem* custom items.

...

Mikey

Let's. Fucking. Go. He is ready, baby. He only just learned about Renaissance Festivals, but you do not have to ask him twice he is down. The two of you will spend a little time putting together some casual fun costumes the day before, and then proceed to fully forget half of what you wanted to bring by the time you're parked and unloading, but that's okay because it's RenFaire babyyy!

This guy will lay it on thick. Leo may be Prince Charming, but this Jester has your heart and will be doing everything he can to make sure you and everyone else remembers why. Expect comments and compliments dripping with innuendo that make you more red than the tomatoes at the dunk tank...

Which just happens to be one of his favorite things! A quick wit and good aim turns the game into a show and a crowd will gather as he and the dunkee toss insults back and forth. He'll occasionally punctuate his barbs by tossing a tomato and hitting the button just enough to make the platform almost give out. Eventually, once he and the actor have come to some kind of verbal truce, he'll give them a sweet smile, before throwing his last fruit, and landing them in the water.

This will be a theme all day. Any/all raunchy/adult-themed comedy shows are on his agenda. In fact, expect him to be constantly checking the schedule. He loves a good show! He'll even make time for some of the performances geared toward little kids. At one point, happily playing an ogre in one of the twisted fairy tale performances (the ogre is the good guy 😁).

Food is easy. It's it bad for you? Would his dad give him a look while he eats too much of it? Awesome.

Shopping will start pretty much immediately. My dude walked in, saw ✨Fashion✨, and said "Yes please! 😃" He is at the Cordwainer in minutes talking about a pair of custom Rennie boots, and he is NOT leaving without a rainbow utilikilt. He'll be a little bummed he can't get elf ears, but he'll find a dope-as-hell flower crown that'll more than make up for it.

.....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part two]

Summary: A few weeks after initiating her training with the Valkyries, Eowyn decides to run some errands in Velaris. A self-date never hurt anyone, right?

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: none. briefly mentions the passing of a pet (my greatest fear).

Minors, do not interact.

A/N: so i technically listened to the ACOTAR series so a lot got lost in the void of my mind. if there's something SJM mentions in the novels that I forgot lets just pretend i didn't. also the image isn't exactly what I picture Eowyn's face covering to look like, but its similar enough. i'm also reluctant to call it a niqāb as it may contain religious connotations and i wouldn't want to offend anyone, nor does the story suggest it's due to religious beliefs. if there's anything suggesting differently from the reader's perspective, please let me know and I'll fix it immediately

part 1

Masterlist

"If I could go back to a time before now

Before I ever fell down

Go back to a time when I was just a girl

When I had the whole world

Gently wrapped around me"

Weyes Blood, A Lot's Gonna Change

In the weeks that followed her initial introduction to training with the Illyrians and the Valkyries, she felt a change within her.

Well, not considering how she’d almost quit by the end of the first week due to how sore she was. She’d had a change of heart when she saw the elation in Ananke when she finally managed to cut the ribbon, however. The cheer that erupted from the vocal priestesses and the look of accomplishment and pride on Ananke’s face was contagious enough for her to decide to stay. She might as well do that, she figured, for although the hefty daily exercises were strenuous on her body, they accomplished little to nothing to quiet her mind.

Dressed in comfortably loose skirts and a blouse in dark cool tones, she let out a weary breath, fixing the black laced mantilla placed over her head. From the middle of the dark fabric fell a thin silver chain across the center of her forehead, clasped onto the matching silver chain on the trim of the soft fabric covering the bottom half of her face.

Despite her slightly rattled nerves, opening one of the heavy doors leading out to the city of Velaris was somehow not as intimidating as it had been before. Immediately, her mind attributed it to her recent training, surely pulling her own body weight on a bar repeatedly for several sets had made it easier for her to open the heavy ancient doors, but she also knew it was more than that. It was the fact that it didn’t take her usual twenty minutes of steeling herself to leave the library— it only took eight.

That, she knew she couldn’t credit training for, entirely.

Although she’d never been one to easily make friends, oftentimes too lost in her own musings to seek further than surface-level conversations with her companions, she’d found an unexpected but welcomed sort of camaraderie with a few of the priestesses in the training ring, including Nesta and Emerie who, although weren’t priestesses themselves were oftentimes jumbled up together in name, if they weren’t being called Valkyries. Mirna, Desmodena, and Eowyn had only just joined the larger group of priestesses, making a total of ten priestesses training all at once in unison. The only separate group were the three original female fighters, who mostly trained with Cassian, or Azriel on the off chance that Cassian hyper focused on so-and-so’s form and dagger grip.

Still, it was Gwyn with whom she’d found herself spending more time with, although mostly outside of the ring as they walked through the library's many floors. Which, by extension, led to her growing friendship with Nesta and Emerie, the latter who she found took immense pleasure in making her laugh. Nesta, on the other hand, while not outright rude, was perhaps just as cynical as Eowyn herself, which gave way for an unspoken understanding— thick melted chocolate in texture, compared to the easy flowing nectar of her closeness to Emerie and Gwyn.

Her steps, brisk in nature but slightly stilted in discomfort soon fell back on the ease of slithering through busy city streets, a certain knowledge in the marrow of her bones that refused to forget something that was once so familiar. To walk through a busy city street wasn’t an easy thing to learn at once, but once learned, was something that was never forgotten.

The bell above the apothecary door signaled her entrance, pulling a hefty small fae from her book, which at a quick glance was clearly similar to the smutty romances the girls liked to read so much. She chuckled lightly under her breath, smiling at the herbalist gently despite the fact that the female couldn’t see anything but her dark eyes, and held it still, even as the fae watched her with clear unease, seeming half a second away from kicking her out the door.

“Good evening,” Eowyn greeted politely, “I’ve come to pick up an order from the Library.”

“Y-yes, let me get that for you,” the fae stumbled over her words, relief seeming to fall over her face as she turned and disappeared in the backroom.

Eowyn took that time to roam around the store, taking note of the array of trinkets sold, made of quarts and precious minerals and stones. The side of the wall displayed what looked like thousands of tins and small packages of teas, all displaying labels with what the remedies contained and what they were recommended for. She chuckled to herself when she took notice of the one labeled Love, although the ingredients were curiously not listed.

She took it in her hand, opening her mouth to call out to the herbalist and ask her what the special little tea contained when she felt a shift in the air. A second before the bell of the apothecary door could sound to signal someone else’s entrance, Eowyn flitted, hiding herself from view behind a tall shelf in the center of store, promoting a two-for-one deal on candles that were labeled with the same intentions of the teas in the wall behind her.

Ducking slightly to peek through the thin gap in the shelf she bit her tongue to keep herself from gasping in surprise at the sight of the Shadowsinger, who reached the counter in three strides, scarred hand impatiently slamming over the bell to ring for the owner.

“Coming! I’m coming!” her muffled yell called out from the back.

When a cold soft breeze touched her ankle, like the mist of a cloud but leaving no trace behind, she looked down to her feet to see Azriel’s shadows dancing around her feet. She grimaced slightly at the idea of being caught in the act. Not that she was doing anything wrong, of course, but the thought of him catching her hiding behind a shelf with a love drink in her hand made her cheeks flush.

She brought her index finger to mouth, signaling for the shadows to keep quiet but no sooner had she done so when Azriel’s voice called out. “I know you’re here, Eowyn.”

A shiver ran down her spine unexpectedly at the sound of her name coming from his lips.

“Traitors,” she hissed lightly to the shadows, quickly sliding the tin in her hands onto the shelf at her side before revealing herself.

“Hello,” she cleared her throat.

His face, always unreadable, remained so as he turned to face her, but she noticed the amusement glinting in his eyes before they came into contact with hers. In a fraction of a second, they widened ever so slightly, just barely enough for her to note the surprise before he schooled his features back into place.

“They said nothing,” he corrected, although one of his shadows curled around his ear. “I smelled you before I even came in. They did tell me however, that you seemed rather interested in buying a…love tonic, is it? Ah, sorry, a love tea.”

“That is something you don’t want to play around with, boy,” the herbalist interrupted, coming back from the back room with a heavy sealed box in her hands. She placed it on the counter with a huff, “You give that to your sick pets, you see. You boil it, let it cool, and put it in their water bowl. It’s for when they’re getting old and on death’s door. It helps keep them happy and untouched by pain until the time comes…” she drifted off, voice carrying a note of sadness. “I made it for my cat, you know. By my side for a hundred and seventy-one years, Love was,” she sighed, “I haven’t got a chance to finish the label.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Eowyn spoke immediately, fascinated by the herbalist's unrepressed emotions.

“Yeah well,” the herbalist tried to shrug it off, shyly wiping at her eyes. “Here ya go, my girl. You tell Clotho to take it easy on the sleeping dwale. Too much of that and you can grow dependent on it— and what’s worse is it loses its potency the more tolerance you build.”

“I’ll let her know,” Eowyn replied smoothly, not giving anything away, she was sure. Not even to the spymaster. “And thank you.”

“Now, what can I get for you?” She turned to the shadowsinger, but his gaze remained on Eowyn.

“I- do you need help carrying that back?” He interrupted himself to ask, but blinked at her when she made it disappear into the pocket realm without much effort.

“I’m good, thank you,” she smiled politely, deciding rather determinedly that she wouldn’t focus on the way he’d acted so out of character by teasing her of all things before being kind.

Not that he was typically rude or anything of the sort. He was just mostly…. there. Brooding. Face as emotionless and still as it was beautiful.

And did he say he smelled her when he came in? What the hell was that about?

“Have a good day!” She called out over her shoulder, cutting him off before he could insist as she sped out of the door and into the busy streets.

She made her way through the city, collecting pre-ordered packages from various stores and putting them in the pocket realm with the rest of her haul. By the time she made it to the Street of Iron, she was tired and hungry and more than a little dizzy from the amount of people huddling around her. She was used to being around no more than fifteen people at once, so to be going in and out of crowds for hours on end was starting to take a toll on her.

As was customary in the city, a bell signaled her entrance to the blacksmiths. The wave of heat suddenly wafted over her form, causing her to tighten her grip on her belongings, more than ready to step back outside. But she had an errand to run, a favor to do for her friend and she wouldn’t let Gwyn down just because it was hot inside the shop. 

After a quick inspection around herself to make sure there weren’t any lingering shadows following her about, she approached the counter, ringing the bell once to signal her entry.

“What can I do for you, lass?” a tall burly male asked from behind the counter, unshaven and with ash smeared across his face.

He looked familiar, in the way people originating from the same region look familiar, making Eowyn wonder how many families originating from the Winter Court resided in Velaris. And from other courts too, that is. 

“I have it under good authority this is where the Night Court's shadowsinger purchases his weapons,” she began to explain, “I’m looking to buy something for him, a blade. Something simple but something to his liking.”

The swordsmith gave her a curious, if not confused look. “The Shadowsinger hasn’t patronized this establishment in a few centuries, lass, but I reckon I still remember the Lord of Shadow’s taste.”

Lord of Shadows, huh? She almost snorted at the thought.

She considered his words to herself as he went off to search for what Gwyn had requested, if Azriel hadn’t bought any weapons from Eamon— if he was indeed the Eamon referred to on the store sign in the front— in centuries, how was this establishment his favorite?

She reminded herself that Gwyn had gotten that information straight from Mor, who was one of the most important people in Azriel’s life (and still continued to be—Gwyn had whispered conspiratorially one night as they talked in the lower levels of the library— even after being in love with the gorgeous blonde for well over five hundred years, before Elain was turned into fae. Eowyn had bristled in surprise at that, “isn’t Elain mated to one of the Autumn court sons?” she had asked, at that point so invested in the never ending drama that seemed to follow the members of the Inner Circle, that she didn’t care she had to finish writing her proposal to the High Lord for the funding of her greenhouse project she had planned, too entertained by their shenanigans. Gwyn had only nodded grimly).

So clearly, Gwyn knew what she was talking about.

When the blacksmith came back with a bronzed blade, showing it to her and exclaiming it was exactly the type of blade the Morrigan herself would pick out for the Shadowsinger, Eowyn took it. But not before her eye caught sight of something winking at her over the smith’s shoulder.

No, not winking or shining, exactly, considering it was so dark the blade itself seemed to absorb the darkness surrounding it. There was no light reflecting off of it whatsoever. Still… it called to her.

“May I see that one?” she asked, pointing at the blade.

“Oh I highly doubt the Master of Shadows would be interested in an obsidian dagger,” the smith shook his head but grabbed the blade anyway, turning it over in his hand to show her, “it’s a very fickle material, you see. The blade is made of obsidian stone, which is a type of volcanic rock that can break as easily as glass.”

“What's the point of making such a brittle weapon then?” she quietly echoed words she’d spoken long ago, musing mostly to herself.

“Ah, you see obsidian,” he began, his eyes suddenly lighting in nostalgic remembrance, “it provides for one of the sharpest edges that we know of.”

“So when it breaks, it leaves another jagged blade in its place,” she recited knowingly, not quite catching the way he nodded approvingly at her before he tilted his head, suddenly looking upon her differently.

Before he could ask her anything however, she proclaimed she wanted to purchase both blades and did so, making sure to have the blade intended for Azriel tucked within reach in the pocket realm, while fixing the obsidian blade in its sheath under her robes around her waist.

By the time she left the blacksmith’s shop, the position of the sun told her it was mid afternoon, as the sun only just began to inch towards the horizon. Feeling immensely proud of herself for successfully finishing her errands without needing to stop even once in alley to catch her breath or stumble into a restaurant, face-paled, and seemingly seconds away from either passing out or dying on the spot, she even felt further encouraged to continue on her adventure and perhaps indulge in a sweet treat for herself.

And so she did. With some kind of delicious seasonal concoction in her grasp, she picked out the most out-of-sight shaded table to sip at her spiced tea with steamed milk and simply… observed. She sat for the better half of an hour simply watching the fae live their lives, either rushing to work or strolling home. Some were shopping, others walked in groups, all beautiful and dressed to the tens, smelling strongly of wine and whiskey, and she found herself thoroughly enjoying herself. Remembering times when she was one of them.

When the sun inched even closer to the horizon, she finally stood, deciding to take the long walk back to the library, through the artist’s quarter, an avenue that she knew was a staple in the lives of the residents of Velaris.

One particular studio, not as boisterous or welcoming as others, caught her attention, or rather, a painting only barely visible from the window beckoned her inside. Needing to see the painting from up close, she didn’t hesitate to walk in, not noticing until a few minutes of her standing in front of the enchanting painting of a forest, too lost in the familiarity depicted, to notice the door had failed to signal her entrance, not having a bell above the door to do so, until she heard a strange sound come from somewhere in the back, a mix of a gasp and a yelp.

She turned to the sound immediately to find a rather pretty high fae, dressed in paint-splattered overalls, staring at her in what looked like confusion and a smidge of trepidation.

“Who are you?” The female questioned immediately and Eowyn could do nothing but blink back at her tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you closing soon?” A quick look around told her the space she thought was maybe some kind of small exhibit actually contained no true coherency, no descriptions under the paintings, and certainly no invitation whatsoever from the windows that looked out into the streets of Velaris. Realization dawning on her, Eowyn couldn’t help the embarrassed grimace, “oh… this is- this is a private studio isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes?” The female confirmed, but it sounded more like a question.

“I’m so sorry,” Eowyn apologized again, shifting in place as her eyes shot to the door, seconds away from running out until the female spoke again.

“No, no need to apologize, I was expecting my mate to come in so I didn’t lock the door. Foolish of me, honestly,” she chastised herself. Then her eyes caught Eowyn’s and something about the gray-blue shade of them made something in her brain perk up at attention. “I- was it this piece that caught your attention?” She turned to the painting that had called Eowyn in like a siren’s song, “I’ll admit I don’t think I’ve looked at this piece again since I finished it,” she tilted her head to the side, considering, “have you been?”

But Eowyn only shook her head, unsure of how to respond. “It just.. felt familiar, I think.”

The female hummed but didn’t reply, eyes seeming to scan her. “Are you… a priestess?”

And something about the way she spoke, the strength in her voice despite the sliver of uncertainty, caused understanding to click into place. And if that wasn’t proof enough then the following cry emitted from a small bundle cradled within a tiny bassinet in the furthest wall from the entrance, semi-hidden behind a canvas, would’ve given her away.

“My Lady,” Eowyn gasped, immediately dropping into a quick curtsy, even as the High Lady walked over to her whining babe, “I apologize, I didn’t know this was your private studio. I truly had no intention of bothering you-“

“You’re not, don’t worry about it,” the High Lady waved her off, eyes focused on the fussing baby she now cradled into her arms, shushing the babe gently as she bounced and rocked him. “Well? Are you?”

Sorry? Of course I am, Eowyn almost said, still spiraling at the fact that she’d just casually stumbled into what was essentially her court’s matriarch’s chambers, even if it was no different than any other store in a rather public area of the city. Then she remembered what her High Lady had asked. “Oh, a priestess?” She confirmed, “yes, well… something like that. I uh, I work for Clotho in the Library, if that’s what you mean. I’m-“ she hesitated, unsure, “I’m friends with Nesta. Kind of.”

But the High Lady took no offense, instead she surprised Eowyn when she snorted, “‘kind of’ sounds about right, although from what I’ve heard, my sister has been doing a good job of making friends lately,” she smiled at her warmly, “I’m glad of it.”

Eowyn could only smile back, if a bit awkwardly once she realized the High Lady couldn’t see anything but her eyes.

“I-“ she cleared her throat, eyes snapping to the gurgling babe in her arms, “I’d like to offer my congratulations for a successful birth, if that’s not too intrusive of me to say. I… well, we heard about the difficulties you were facing when the High Lord asked us to help him research all those months ago, and- well, I’m just glad everything worked out in the end.”

“Me too,” Feyre smiled at her, turning her attention to look at her son adoringly.

“May I ask their name?”

“We named him Nyx,” her smile widened, seemingly pleased at her question and the opportunity to gush about her baby.

At Eowyn’s hesitation, Feyre looked back up at her, eyes encouraging. Shyly but encouraged by her warm eyes, she asked, “may I see him?” Her voice was soft and low, “I’ve never seen a babe before.”

“You haven’t?” The High Lady’s eyes widened in surprise.

She gently pulled back at the thin material to reveal a minuscule wrinkled little face, tiny fingers gripping at the air at nothing. Although the child had little to no hair, the few tuff of soft looking feathered hair were as dark as night, his eyes still glazed with the initial protective membrane of a newborn depicting no true color until the child’s third year of age, according to some of the books the female fae had read about fae infants.

Although the High Lady presented her son proudly, Eowyn took notice of the way she didn’t offer the babe to her nor allowed for Eowyn to get too close, in a way that was not only expected of her but entirely necessary for her to do as one of the rulers of the court and a new fae mother.

Eowyn didn’t mind, however, as she remained in place with her hands clasped behind her back, only watching the baby’s toothless babbling fondly.

“I haven’t,” she replied, “I was the youngest of quite a large family, and none of my brothers had any children before I left for university,” she found herself explaining, unsure of why she wanted the High Lady to trust that she would never do anything to bring harm to her or her child. The cynical part of her mind considered that it could never hurt anyone to be in the High Lady’s good side, but despite herself, logic was not driving her, it was an unexplainable sense of familiarity with the High Lady that did. As if she knew her, as if she owed it to her to be accommodating and gentle.

And truly, she deserved no less. She had saved Prythian from Amarantha, after all.

“Was that long ago?” Feyre asked gently, if slightly stilted and Eowyn grinned behind her veil, amused at the lingering humanity of her High Lady.

“I’m two-hundred and seventy-six years old,” she answered her unspoken question, “which means I’ve spent more than half of my life either with my nose in a book or talking about whatever I found in those books, which left little room to visit any place where children could be. I wasn’t exactly looking for them, either,” she admitted, not noticing when she’d lifted one of her hands, only her smallest finger held out near the babe, where he gripped her with surprising strength in his little fist.

“Perhaps Heracles would have been a more fitting name,” she suggested mildly, causing Feyre to chuckle, eyes alight with humor.

“You know of the human stories?” 

Eowyn nodded and hummed in response, “I’ve always found human legends and mythologies fascinating,” she confessed, “it took up much more of my research than was necessary—“

Suddenly a whooshing sound caught Eowyn’s attention, causing her head to snap to the door. Without thinking about it, she angled herself to stand in front of her High Lady and the babe, eyes set firmly on the door when it flew open, revealing Cassian.

Eowyn exhaled in relief just as Feyre chuckled behind her, “everything okay, Cass?”

His eyes flicked between the two females, releasing his own relieved breath, “yeah yeah, just looking for Eowyn.”

“Me?” She asked, startled.

“Clotho told Rhys she was expecting you a couple hours ago. We’ve been looking for you for about an hour now, missy,” he chided playfully, eyes back to their natural mirth now that he knew he didn’t have to search further for her. 

Embarrassed, she apologized to him profusely but he merely waved her away. “Really, it’s no problem. I'm just glad we found you,” but then his eyes glazed over slightly as if lost in thought.

Eowyn’s eyebrows scrunched, glancing at Feyre in concern only to have the High Lady chuckle at her reaction. “He’s letting Rhys know you’re fine.”

Ah, right. Daemati beings, their monarchs were.

Eowyn found herself slightly disappointed to leave mid-conversation, but she graciously thanked her High Lady for her time and apologized once again for invading her space. Feyre was quick to assure her, admitting she was curious to keep talking to her and even asked if she’d be willing to receive her at the library if she wasn’t comfortable joining her in the River House.

After agreeing to stay in touch, Feyre walked them out before locking the door behind them, not after assuring Cassian a half-dozen times that Rhys was already on his way to take both her and Nyx back home.

Eowyn and Cassian walked in comfortable silence in the direction of the library when she shivered slightly from the cold, mentally cursing herself for deciding to take the long way back earlier in the day. 

“You know, I could just… fly us back to the house,” he suggested mildly, not looking at her, “if you’re comfortable, of course.”

“I-“ she hesitated, mentally weighing her options.

“Or we can walk, I’ve no problem with that. It’s about two and a half miles back to the house, which is about a five minute flight but if you want to walk I’m sure you’ll warm up with the exercise.”

“Oh it’s not you,” she assured quickly, “I’ve just never… not been grounded before,” she explained awkwardly.

He only chuckled under his breath, eyes glinting with mischief, “you afraid of heights, Wynnie?”

The nickname and the challenge in his tone sparked something she had believed to be dead and buried deep within her, not realizing how present the sentiment was until that moment. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since her formative years, a sibling-like teasing that was both mocking and cruel as it was gentle and sweet. She hadn’t been called that since… well.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” the sharp words were out of her mouth before she could think, as was any kind of sense and sign of maturity, “and don’t call me that.”

He chortled, seemingly taken aback by the quickness at which she replied, but his grin only grew and she knew she’d made a mistake to show her distaste for the nickname.

“Is that a yes to flying then?” When she nodded, he only smirked at her. “Good, my wings were getting cold. Now, here, I’m gonna hook one arm under your knees and the other around your upper back, maybe under your armpit if I need to adjust your weight, is that alright with you, Wynnie?”

When she agreed, with an exaggerated eye roll, if only to hide her nerves, not having been near a male in so long that even if she felt no attraction to the objectively beautiful male, she still felt herself stiffen at his proximity. He placed his hands exactly where he said he would, not seeming to falter the slightest under her weight before taking off into the skies. She held her breath, feeling the panic surge the higher they went, but once they were elevated high above the city streets, she found herself breathless for an entirely different reason.

“Oh wow,” she sighed under her breath, eyes glued to the city under her.

“Haven’t seen Velaris at night like this?” He sounded surprised, “how long have you been here, now?”

“About half a century,” she replied absentmindedly, taking in the array of city lights and life of the city of Night. “But you know we don’t leave the library… especially at night.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, “hm, and why were you out and about today then?” He asked, although not judgmental or intrusive, his tone carrying the same distantly familiar teasing lilt.

But the shift in the air, the sound of whooshing wings caught her attention, causing her to tear her eyes from the city lights and over Cassian’s shoulder to see Azriel quickly approaching them.

His eyes locked on hers, face as serious and emotionless as always, as he only offered her a nod in acknowledgment.

“I was running errands,” her voice trailed off, suddenly feeling too exposed.

They flew the rest of the way in comfortable silence, other than Cassian pointing out different sections: the Street of Iron, the Sidra to which Eowyn rolled her eyes and mumbled no, really? under her breath which encouraged him to pretend to drop her, laughing all the while. She remained silent for the rest of the ride, pale and clutching onto his shoulders with her nails, deciding on making a formal complaint to his mate for her to deal with as she saw fit, and she told him so when her feet landed softly on the landing pad in the House of Wind. 

She would’ve preferred being taken directly to the library entrance, but she kept that to herself, aware that it would cause an unnecessary trip around the other side of the mountain and she could just as easily take the stairs down. The fact that the general and the shadowsinger had taken the time to look for her was obtrusive of her enough.

And so she thanked the still laughing general, both for looking for her and for flying her home, to which he grinned graciously back at her, telling her he expected her at her best the following morning for training and bidding her goodnight over his shoulder as he made his way inside. 

She turned to look out at the city once more but was surprised to find Azriel unmoved from the spot where he had landed, half expecting him to blend into his shadows and disappear as he was prone to do.

“Oh,” she flinched slightly and watched as his gaze dropped from its place on hers and he moved his hands behind his back, “sorry. You startled me. I uh- goodnight?” she said slowly, unsure of how to act.

“You’re carrying an obsidian dagger,” he stated more than asked, “why?”

“Did you follow me?” She answered with a question of her own.

“If I had, I wouldn’t have looked for you for twenty minutes,” he replied plainly. Twenty. Not the hour Cassian had said he’d looked for her. She noticed his tone no longer held that hint of playfulness that it carried when they ran into each other in the city. She wondered if she’d offended him, somehow.

She figured he had a point and reached inside her robe to take out the blade, eyes locked on his as she flipped it in her hand to hand it to him, helm first. He took it, hand almost entirely enveloping her own as he did, but he didn’t linger on the touch, immediately pulling away with his eyes locked on the dagger. “It’s brittle.”

“It’s beautiful,” she corrected, “and sharp enough to inflict substantial damage.”

“This would be useless in battle,” he frowned at her, and while she noticed that his tone didn’t contain that typical patronizing male sense of omniscience, he was after all, only a male and did not see the bigger picture, “it would kill some soldiers, sure, but mostly cause superficial wounds, especially once it begins to chip and-“

“Become jagged and thus cut more wickedly as it remains sharp. You know, when properly forged, an obsidian edge can be so sharp it can skin the outer layer of an eye without so much as touching the layer underneath,” she sighed, thoughtfully, “and there is of course, the cultural aspects of it-“

“Which would belong to Illyrian traditions as this material only forms under the volcanoes deep within the mountains,” he finished for her without missing a beat, his own eyebrows scrunching together in thought, “what do you know about that?”

“More than you think,” she frowned back, not liking the way he made her feel perceived beyond what she was comfortable with. She took the dagger back, careful not to touch his warm skin although she was half frozen above the mountain, “I know they can be used for religious practices, the crystallized volcanic glass was believed to be the Mother’s spilt blood from the life she created, which hardened into an igneous rock devoid of all color,” she inspected the blade, looking up at him to see his eyes set on her rather than the dagger.

She inhaled sharply, “and anyway, I just liked it and don’t have to explain to you why I bought it,” she defended, sheathing the dagger before crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped looked more like an indignant action of defense rather than the fact that she was beginning to shiver with cold.

“Right,” he muttered shortly, eyes glancing over her shoulder to the stairs leading into the library. She followed his gaze. “It’s getting late. You should head back inside. Goodnight, Eowyn.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to agree with him but when she turned back to him, he was gone.

part three

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 89, Part 1

Potterypool went missing for a few days. Her body is eventually found in the territory.

[Image ID: Moontide runs toward something offscreen, with Shrewflame, Thundergale, and Yarrowclaw behind her. Shrewflame yowls, "Moontide, don't touch her!" Under Thundergale it reads LEVEL UP! GOOD HUNTER → GREAT HUNTER. Under Yarrowclaw, it reads LEVEL UP! TALENTED FIRE-STARTER → FIRE MASTER.]

Shrewflame was a sprinter, but when he couldn't smell the ocean, the forest provided him security over the open southern reaches, despite the many obstacles in his way. In some ways, the obstacles were better. They were a challenge, allowing Shrewflame to launch himself from rock to rock, tree to tree, flying through the land with the speed of a peregrine falcon. Limp leaves flew out behind him, spooking the occasional squirrel. Shrewflame laughed as a cold wind stunned his cheeks.

Yarrowclaw, Thundergale, and Moontide sat around a particularly scratched-up grouping of pines. The caretakers loved to climb the low-hanging branches, as it was easy to collect bark and wood for the clerics and artisans. It was also a go-to spot to rake your claws down the trunks, leaving permanent gouges in the bark. Thundergale scratched at the tree while Moontide and Yarrowclaw chatted, nested in the fallen needles. Shrewflame burst into the scene, skidding through the leaves with another hearty laugh.

"Sorry if I'm late!" Shrewflame chirped. "I was helping Whitekit settle on training for later this moon. He wants to be a historian."

"Good for him," Thundergale said a bit too loud. Her words were muffled as though talking with her mouth full. Shrewflame bit down the slight disappointment that bubbled with his mentor's words. The spoken word no longer sounded as clear to Thundergale, it seemed. How long would it be until Thundergale could never hear Shrewflame's laugh or the hum of bird song again? She would be alright, she would still be happy, she wouldn't even lose her stride in the growth of her new role (so many cats asked for lessons that Lettucestar asked for one of the teachers to stay in SlugClan for a time and share their new ways). Still, a loss like that could still be mourned. Shrewflame stopped himself from making a mouse-brained comment about Thundergale's voice and instead settled beside Moontide.

"We were just chatting with Yarrowclaw," Moontide explained. Shrewflame's enthusiasm sombered even more with Moontide's monotone. It was clear what was on her mind. Potterypool had left camp a couple days prior, but had not returned that night. Should Shrewflame comfort Moontide? Despite her switch to the teacher position, Shrewflame didn't know her well. He may have learned the basics of mediation from Spikecrash and Paleseed, but he was far from sweet-tongued.

"I'll tell you what I told these two," Yarrowclaw sighed, flicking her ears at the mollies. Shrewflame quickly took up translating for Thundergale on instinct. "If all we talk about is day-night cycling, I'm going back to camp."

"That's only part of what we could learn from you," Thundergale signed, with Shrewflame translating back for Yarrowclaw. Thundergale hopped away from the tree and stood beside Moontide. "Yes, as one of the few cats in recent Clan history with this condition, we want to learn about it so if others have questions, they don't have to interrogate you. But you're a great fighter, and I've never seen anyone sneak up on you. Every member of the Clan has a lot they can teach future generations. If we're going to learn from any of our Clanmates first, you're the one I want to hear from."

"So you want me to talk about myself?" Yarrowclaw asked. Thundergale nodded eagerly. Yarrowclaw sighed and sat up, stretching her flank high. "If that's how I'm spending my afternoon, we aren't going to just sit here. I want to check on the river near the SlugClan border. Come with me and I'll answer your questions."

"But—" Shrewflame huffed, not able to finish translating Yarrowclaw's answer. Yet Thundergale put her tail on Shrewflame's shoulder.

"You can tell me what I miss later," Thundergale said, shaking her head. Shrewflame tensed, but he nodded anyway. Yarrowclaw led the three teachers north, one ear turned back to them.

The sun shone behind a thick layer of light gray clouds, a reflection of Shrewflame's suddenly smothered mood. He pretended otherwise, however, constantly running ahead of Yarrowclaw before "remembering" what he was supposed to do and jogging back. Even the mice seemed to force their mood, skittering in the distant leaves rather than hide from the four fierce hunters. With Thundergale unable to keep up with the conversation and Moontide as quiet as the moon itself, it felt like Shrewflame was talking to himself. He bounced against Thundergale's initial interests and groomed his questions toward Yarrowclaw's supposed specialities.

Usually, Shrewflame would love to hear how Yarrowclaw learned to hunt without a sense of depth, how she honed her senses, how the mediators taught her to harness her day cycles in a healthy way. Yet it didn't feel right. Thundergale couldn't participate, Moontide wasn't engaged, and Shrewflame found himself missing his little brother. Whitekit was hilarious! It helped that he looked at Shrewflame like the sun, but maybe Whitekit could have made Yarrowclaw laugh or loosened her mouth with his unique, cautious charm. At this point, Shrewflame should have just joined a border patrol.

"I'll tell you what I told Wolverineheart as a kit," Yarrowclaw sighed as the Great Northern River came into view. "I have my nose. I have my ears. I can feel the wind on my whiskers and pawsteps through the ground. I can get by with one bad eye."

"Good to know," Shrewflame said, glancing between Moontide and Thundergale. "Well, um, we're at the river! Do we want to rest by the water for a bit?"

"Dog," Thundergale suddenly gulped, gaze locked on the other side of the river. Moontide, Yarrowclaw, and Shrewflame stiffened. They gazed over the gray river, whose white foam caught what light leaked through the clouds. The tanning grass rippled in the wind, which carried the dangerous scent to the patrol. Heavy paws scrambled through the fading undergrowth. The dog's golden brown pelt melted against the dying leaves as it burst into view. One of its floppy ears was stuck inside-out and its tongue dangled out of its loose lips. The brown-eyed beast turned back toward the trees, wagging its tail wildly. Shrewflame couldn't see its human yet, but he heard them cracking leaves underfoot.

Shrewflame had never seen a dog so close before, but the sight still made his back arch. He grew up with his mothers' stories; Wildclaw and her various confrontations with overeager pups, Rattlepelt and her near-death experience with the darkhound that took Mousesong, the aunt Shrewflame never knew. All of Shrewflame's lessons and the scars sported by his Clanmates taught him never to underestimate a dog, especially one that hunted alongside a human.

"The dog seems well-taught," Moontide noted softly, signing quickly. "I don't think it will cross the river unless its human does, and Venturedapple says humans hate wading through water."

"I'll keep my eye on it," Yarrowclaw promised, dead eye facing the three teachers as Yarrowclaw glared across the border.

The dog sniffed at the grass lining the river, uninterested in the cats beyond. Its nose led it between a pine and a fir, where recently disturbed dirt protruded in a mound. The dog lunged at the mound like a kit pouncing on a leaf. Its thick paws dug rapidly. Dirt flew into the river and floated toward the sea. The smell of decay brushed Shrewflame's nose. The human emerged from the trees with a swift bark. The dog bounced back, thoughtless eyes gazing joyfully up at its master. Though the human's misshapen paw rubbed the dog's head, their attention lingered on the mound. Whatever the human saw, Shrewflame couldn't make it out from his position.

"That smell," Moontide gulped, eyes as big as her namesake. Shrewflame didn't know what she meant as the human crouched by the mound. They brushed aside loose dirt and continued some of their dog's work. They purred low, a purr of pain rather than contentment. Their leather-lined paws reached into the mound and slowly lifted up what laid beneath.

A dark red cat laid in the human's grasp. Blank gray eyes stared at RippleClan territory. Blood smeared her marbled pelt.

So that's where Potterypool had gone.

"Drop her!" Moontide suddenly shrieked, charging to the riverbank. "Drop her right now! Don't take her!" The golden dog barked at Moontide's yowls. Even the human turned their head, noticing the Clan cats for the first time. Shrewflame, Yarrowclaw, and Thundergale all stood beside Moontide, the river licking their paws as they hissed at the human. The human glanced down at the body in their grasp, cradled close to their chest. Their attention drifted between Potterypool and the living cats. Their paw absent-mindedly stroked Potterypool's still pelt.

"There are good humans, right?" Shrewflame yowled like there was some chance of the human understanding him. "Maybe you're one of them! Just put her body down! She's our friend!" The human held Potterypool tighter. Their eyes shimmered. The human slowly sat beside the unearthed mound. The dog came close, sniffing Potterypool's body, but the human hissed at it, shielding the dead cat. The human carefully laid Potterypool beside the disturbed earth. They arranged her legs gently underneath her. They made it look as though Potterypool was curled up, deep in a peaceful dream. The human stroked Potterypool's head, whining. Blood covered their paws. They even rested their muzzle against Potterypool's forehead, as though participating in vigil. Could humans truly care about cats so deeply, even cats they never met?

The human stood and made a sharp bird-like song to their dog. The dog walked alongside the human, eyeing Potterypool and the living cats. Yet it stayed tame as the human led it back through the trees. As soon as the pair slipped through the undergrowth, Moontide dove into the river.

"Moontide, don't touch her!" Shrewflame yowled. Moontide swam with the river pushing against her side. She crawled onto the opposite bank as Shrewflame raced for the stepping stones. The cold water numbed his paws. He slipped onto the grass beyond the border. Moontide reached her paw to Potterypool's curled body just as Shrewflame snatched the white molly's scruff and tugged her back.

"Shrewflame, get off of me!" Moontide cried, paws smacking at Shrewflame.

"Look at her, Moontide!" Shrewflame hissed, letting go and shoving the frantic molly back. "She's covered in blood. She was buried beyond the border. A dog or fox wouldn't have done that. Think!" Yarrowclaw and Thundergale joined the pair on their side of the river. "We need codekeepers. That's the right way to do this. They should get a look at her body before anyone else disturbs her."

"She's been here all this time," Moontide whined, shaking. "I patrolled by here yesterday. I didn't see her!"

"Thundergale and I will go back to camp," Yarrowclaw promised. "We'll find some codekeepers." The air hung stiff around them, aching for some sort of comforting phrase before the two mollies left, but Yarrowclaw and Thundergale were silent. They slowly crept away from Potterypool's body and back to the river. Moontide moaned as Yarrowclaw and Thundergale hurried back to RippleClan territory.

Moontide sunk low, one paw stretching out toward her sister. Her instincts fought against her common sense, desperate to touch Potterypool's matted, dirty fur, shake life back into her lungs. But Shrewflame kept a paw on Moontide's leg, refusing to look away from Potterypool's body. When he looked past the slight decay, past the scent of death and dirt and the river's mist, Shrewflame could make out distinct trails of blood staining Potterypool's already dark red fur. Shrewflame didn't need a codekeeper's training to see this was the work of a cat. But who?

(Shrewflame: 13, male, teacher, loyal, fast as the wind)

(Thundergale: 21, female, teacher, adventurous, great hunter, good speaker)

(Moontide: 24, female, teacher, playful, excellent teacher)

(Yarrowclaw: 24, female, warrior, cold, fire master)

(Potterypool: 24, female, caretaker, sneaky, great singer)

Stormjump and Honeybuzz proudly announce their commitment to one another as mates before the Clan. Meanwhile, Waspdawn battles an infection in his tail stump.

[Image ID: Stormjump and Honeybuzz preen together while Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner sit with Waspdawn in the back. Under Waspdawn, it reads + INFECTION. Under Stormjump, it reads + MATE: HONEYBUZZ. Under Honeybuzz, it reads + MATE: STORMJUMP.]

---

"It was an intentional burial," Waspdawn muttered as Troutpool rubbed an infection-fighting balm into the amputated stump of his half-tail. "Someone didn't want her body to be found. Why?"

"Waspdawn, maybe you should just rest," Cobaltchaser suggested, grooming her older brother's head. "Overthinking this isn't going to help your fever."

"But he's right, Cobaltchaser," Lightningrunner huffed. "This is bad. It's like the story with Scrubmask. This could be another war with the Witch Hunters!"

"Take it from someone who was actually there for Scrubmask's death," Troutpool sighed, finishing the last of Waspdawn's balm. "Whoever left her body there didn't care who found it. Potterypool's situation is different."

The four cats sat together in the medicine den, noses plugged with the smell of infection and herbs. Waspdawn sat with his tail stretched out of his nest. His furless tail-tip blistered red, some unknown infection creeping into the scars of his amputation. Cobaltchaser and Lightningrunner kept him company as sunhigh glared down on the noisy camp clearing. Despite the overwhelming scent of the medicine den, the smell of dried fish still managed to soak through the den walls from the meal outside.

Most of the Clan surrounded Honeybuzz and Stormjump, congratulating the pair on their official declaration of matehood. Waspdawn's daughter beamed under all the attention. Stormjump purred and laughed as cats like Wildclaw and Rabbitjoy offered their advice and jokes. Honeybuzz's brothers shoved against him, laughing at the top of their lungs. Honeybuzz's eyes carried a softness that had been absent in recent days. From the look of the crowd, it would have been hard to believe that one of their own had been found murdered the day before. Yet the signs were there in what was absent; Halibutdusk could not been seen. They were likely hiding out with Downstar in her den. Moontide and Vervaincough were also distant, moving away from the crowd as soon as they congratulated their older brother.

"At least they sound happy out there." From the other side of the medicine den, Mosspounce laid with his legs at awkward angles, shifting constantly. Clean bandages wrapped around his head, smothering any light before it reached his tattered eyes. If the cougar's claws were as vicious as the stories from last moon claimed, it was impressive Mosspounce still had a face to show off.

"If you're lonely, Mosspounce," Troutpool sighed, "I can have someone guide you through camp."

"Lemmy will be back soon," Mosspounce said with a dismissive flick of his ear. "I can congratulate the happy couple later. I want to keep listening to your theories, Waspdawn. Lemmy's been tight-jawed about the investigation."

"She hasn't been involved," Waspdawn muttered. "We're keeping the investigation to myself, Puddlewhisper, and Cobaltchaser here."

"My brother trusts me," Cobaltchaser purred, squirming with prideful satisfaction.

"More like knows you couldn't have done it," Troutpool awkwardly pointed out, cleaning the balm from her paws. "You were stuck in the dirtplace the day Potterypool vanished." Mosspounce snickered as Cobaltchaser stiffened.

"So we're really considering that someone in our Clan killed Potterypool?" Lightningrunner gulped.

"There are other suspects," Waspdawn assured her. Troutpool shuffled through her herbs as Waspdawn explained. "A Witch Hunter could have killed Potterypool and hidden the body to maintain peace between them and us. Puddlewhisper and Paleseed are going to the human settlement tomorrow to interview Pearl."

"Cobaltchaser, can you fetch a clean bowl?" Troutpool sighed, plucking a jar from her stores. "Your brother needs something to drink his red osier decoction from. It should ease his fever." Cobaltchaser quickly jogged out of the den, set on her new mission.

"Can we even punish someone if they aren't in our Clan?" Lightningrunner asked. "Would Downstar go to war over the killer if their Clan or colony didn't give them up?"

"I know I would," Mosspounce huffed. "Take it from someone who had a paw in the Clan's first war with the Witch Hunters. When our cultures are so different, you can't avoid a fight if you hope to change things. They deserved a battle for kidnapping Carnationspeckle. What sort of justice is it when a killer goes free?" Lightningrunner hung on Mosspounce's words. Waspdawn's heart spasmed, an ache traveling through his blood. The dread of murder fueled his fever and forced his head down.

"You're staying in here for a while, Waspdawn," Troutpool sighed, grooming Waspdawn's neck. "No investigations for you."

"Downstar gave me responsibility…" Waspdawn muttered. He sat up, his head swimming.

"You can share that responsibility with Puddlewhisper," Troutpool said. "Please, lay down. You need to rest."

Regardless of what Waspdawn wanted, he didn't have the energy to do anything but tumble into his nest. The hope beaming from the clearing soothed his palpatations. Lightningrunner settled between Waspdawn and Mosspounce, still eager to continue her conversation with the latter. If she wanted time with her older brother, that would have to come later. As Waspdawn let Troutpool's balm do its work, his sleepy thoughts formed images of disturbed soil behind his eyes. Shifting visions of red fur slashed about, acting as a focal point through the fog of fever.

It was Waspdawn's duty to bring the truth to light.

(Waspdawn: 55, male, codekeeper, strict, learner of lore, clue finder)

(Cobaltchaser: 19, female, codekeeper, righteous, good cook, prey cleaner)

(Lightningrunner: 19, female, historian, nervous, explorer, helpful insight)

(Troutpool: 50, female, cleric, insecure, ghost sight)

(Honeybuzz: 37, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Stormjump: 20, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Mosspounce: 50, male, caretaker, adventurous, talented fire-starter)

[applebees4prez]

advice on drawing/writing cleradin from a literally certified dnd player

(in the club at college that i’m on the board of you have to get certified as a dm lol) (also fuck the edition they were using 5e is better).

i would recommend actually making a character sheet, however, i would be glad to provide this for free. i love making character sheets. according to erica in season 4, they're at least level 14, however this would be very hard to write if you've never played dnd so i would recommend level 5. it's still early enough not to be too complicated but still has some good perks.

paladin:

what is a paladin: a paladin is someone who fights their enemies using a martial weapon like a greatsword or warhammer and a shield but differ from the actual fighter class due to their touch of magic and the fact that they must be sworn to a sacred oath (often related to some sort of deity).

sacred oaths: there are many options for what oath a paladin can swear to, and it completely depends on your story which one you go with or if it's related to a deity. however, for mike, i would go with devotion, as he is incredibly devoted to his loved ones and fights for them. it also means you wouldn't have to go through all of the religion stuff.

magic: paladins are half-casters, meaning they don't get very many spell slots (spell slots represent how many times someone can cast spells of certain levels before taking a long rest of eight hours). however i would recommend going through the list of paladin spells and choosing which ones he has. if you go to the link below, there will be more information about this. again, i'd be happy to make a character sheet for you and might even link one in the reblogs.

cleric:

what is a cleric: a cleric is a magic user usually given their power by a deity, and if not a deity their devotion to something, kind of like a paladin. they are usually the healers of their groups and rather than fighting like the rest of them, spend most of combat ensuring that their party members stay up and healed.

divine domain: every cleric gets a divine domain at level one (shut up about the 2024 rules they're not real) and for will i don't really have any recommendations however life clerics are probably the most basic ones and maybe the easiest to play as. again, it really pertains to each story, but i would probably make him a twilight domain cleric but just because i'm biased and think they're sick (praise saint kristen applebees and such).

magic: all magic users have spell slots, as i mentioned earlier, however because they're full casters, clerics get a bunch more. like. a lot. their magic often relates to helping others and causing miracles (as ostentatia wallace once so graciously pointed out).

let me know if you want info on rangers or bards! i'd be happy to add to this if people are interested.

[ghostlyvines]

So, I got hyperfixated on Arcane (on Vi, mostly) and I have been writing some thoughts down on her different stages on season 2. This is a surface level break down on aspects of her character that I spent too much time thinking about. I'm pretty sure other people have already said the same things I have on here but regardless I still want to share. Also this is an extremely long post, sorry.

TW: I talk about passive suicidal ideation on here, if this is something that triggers you, please don't read. I will be adding a divider for when that part comes up.

Enforcer Vi:

Vi becoming an enforcer definitely came from her guilt over what happened to Cait's mom. Due to Vi's sense of responsibility, I think that she felt like she owed it to Cait to do this, even if she personally didn't like it. I don't think that Vi agreed with what they were doing down there (like releasing the Gray). I think she felt like this was the only way to make things right and to start making up for what had happened.

I don't think she was ever going to kill Jinx. I also don't think she would've allowed Cait to do it either, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that her sister was gone; that there were no traces of Powder anymore and that she needed to do this to protect the version of her sister that she remembered and held so dearly. Even if Isha hadn't been there, I genuinely don't think that Vi would've gone through with it.

Her sister has been her reason to fight, to be brave and courageous; her reason to dare to hope for a future in which Zaun is actually better. She wouldn't have let any more harm come to her, not more than what she already thinks she has done. But because her sister was responsible for what happened to Cait's mom, and Vi feels like she's responsible for what happened to Jinx, she feels like that also means that she is responsible for the attack.

If she continues on being an enforcer, I think it has less to do with her changing her mind about what they represent and more so about her being lost (since she thinks her sister is dead). She's looking for a purpose, something to fight for. And while she is content with Cait and she will fight for her (like she does for everyone she loves) I think that she lost her main reason to fight, and while she will continue to fight, her heart will no longer fully be in it.

Pit-Fighter Vi:

As for pit fighter Vi, we know she did so to punish herself for everything. Vi is a fighter but she's led by her heart and her emotions. This means that after everything that happened with Cait, it snapped something in her. All those years in Stillwater, while torturous, she remained determined to persevere in the hopes of reuniting with her sister one day. Once out, her sole focus was making that reunion with her sister happen (we all saw how that went). Everything that led up to that moment with Cait, was building up inside.

I think that Vi is a character who, while openly emotional and loving, buries her feelings deep down inside. While she's vulnerable, she's not fully open about her past or her trauma. Choosing instead to prioritize those who she cares about who she deems are in more need than her.

I think this is a consequence of her being a parentified child. She was forced to take care of her sister at a very young age. She was never fully able to process the loss of her parents because she had Powder to look out and care for. Powder who needed love, nurturing, and attention. She was more important to Vi than herself. So, she buried her grief deep inside. One could also argue that her grief took the shape of anger, aggression, and impulsivity but that's a conversation for some other time.

What happens to Powder later on is also a source of pain for Vi. She feels like she's the reason that Silco was able to get his hands on Powder and therefore she's responsible for how Powder turned out. She's the reason Powder had those vulnerabilities, those abandonment issues, that desire to be loved and appreciated. This was yet another heartache she had to bury in order to do what she thought needed to be done (aka become an enforcer).

She, however, couldn't go through with it so she stopped Cait from killing Jinx. This was a betrayal in Cait's eyes. I feel like in this moment Vi felt like she failed yet another person who she cared about while at the same time failing herself and her beliefs and values. She gassed her city, fought her sister, almost got a child killed in the cross fire, became the very thing she hated, she's choosing wrong. She's losing everything and everyone she loves.

Every painful memory comes back to her with just as much force as Cait's rifle to her side. All these emotions are overwhelming and loud; so she does the one thing that always calmed the noise. She fights. She gets beat up and she beats others up.

She feels useless, empty but at least she's doing something. She drowns in alcohol to attempt to grasp even a drop of happiness that she hasn't truly felt in years. Maybe its an attempt to numb all the overwhelming feelings that seem to be pulling her under.

When she loses a fight she can't help but feel a bit glad, she's getting what she thinks she deserves after all. And who cares if she's so drunk she can't tell what's real anymore? At least she's not thinking about all the ways she has fucked up.

Commune Vi:

When Jinx tells her that Vander is alive, she doesn't believe it. However, she goes along with the ride because there's really nothing to lose anymore. Seeing her sister interact with Isha, brings back memories of a younger version of herself and Powder. Seeing those interactions also allows for Vi to humanize her sister, to realize that her sister was still in there, still capable of care and compassion.

This also helps her realize that Jinx no longer needs protection or to be sheltered from the harsh reality (she has already lived the full experience of shitty). This is the moment that allows her to view Jinx as an equal. Once they get to Viktor's Commune, she asks for Jinx' opinions. She asks about her thoughts and what she wants to do. She speaks to her as a team and not a liability.

She even lets Jinx in on the plan that she made with Cait in order to free Vander. Mind you, she doesn't tell Cait about Jinx. This to me shows that Vi trusts Jinx enough to not make the same mistake and to instead trust that her sister has her back and is capable of making the correct choices when given the opportunity to do so.

Getting Vander back and starting to reconcile with Jinx, starts giving Vi a sense of purpose. She, once again, has people to fight for. She has something to look forward to (a family). This provides some hope for the future.

Passive suicidal ideation:

Passive suicidal ideation is defined as "feelings and thoughts about wanting to die, though without actual planning".

In this section I will be focusing on 6 of the symptoms in regards to Vi: risky behavior, heightened agitation, increased withdraw and isolation, uncontrollable drug or alcohol habits, preoccupation with death or violence, and intolerable emotional pain (particularly intense shame and guilt).

Let's start with the first point: risky behavior. While Vi was in Stillwater she would partake in a lot of risky behaviors that would end up with her getting punished. These risky behaviors were along the lines of starting fights with men who were older, stronger, and bigger than her. Other risky behaviors were: having weapons in her cell and attempting to escape. All these behaviors led to her getting beat with socks filled with nails, spiked brass knuckles, and even blades. The reason for this behavior? Finding out if her sister was still alive and if Silco had her.

As for the risky behaviors we see displayed in her time as pitfighter, well aside from the obvious, there's her overuse of alcohol. She gets so drunk that she passes out at the bottom of the stairs, leaving herself vulnerable for any eventuality. Not to mention that her getting beat up continuously means that she probably gets severe injuries that she doesn't treat correctly or at all (possibly leading to infections and further damage to her body).

Now that we have that covered, let's move on to the next point: heightened agitation. We see many examples through both seasons that demonstrate this kind of behavior. Her agitation toward Ekko and Sevika when they mention how much Powder has changed. Her jumping into a fight with Sevika and almost dying both times. Her choking Jinx after being told that Vander is still alive. Her starting an argument and tempting Jinx into a fight when they are in the mines. These are just a few examples at the top of my head. These show how agitated and upset she gets when situations shift suddenly.

This of course could be a trauma response to what she experienced at Stillwater. This could be due to her lacking the ability to really regulate her emotions since a majority of her time was spent in survival mode. But this behavior does lead her to the risky behaviors that we discussed on the bullet points before.

Increased withdraw and isolation: while she was a pitfighter she didn't have anyone, truly. Her sister was gone, off to God knows where. Cait had left her in the ventilation system alone and crying on the floor. What was she supposed to do now that she had betrayed her sister, her lover, and most importantly herself?? Easy, drink and fight. I already discussed both these points so I'll focus on the one person she did have, Loris.

Through her self destructive time as an underground fighter, Vi had one constant and that was Loris. Loris stuck by Vi like a loyal friend. He watched her back, watched her fights, and joined in on the drinking and partying. Right up until things got out of hand. Vi wasn't a fun drunk and more of an irritable one. We see one of the times of Loris taking her back to her apartment; we see how she pushes him away roughly and how she starts yelling at him. We don't know what she says to him but due to the fact that we don't see them interact again until the war, one can assume that what she said wasn't kind leading him to leave her alone (just how she wanted).

Her wanting to be alone and wallow on her guilt and shame is also a reason as to why she reacted so aggressively when Jinx appeared at her place.

This is also demonstrated when they are walking through the mines and Vi essentially starts an argument by saying "when are you going to admit that this is just another one of your delusions?". This leads to a physical altercation that ends with Isha getting hurt in the process. Isha getting hurt is what brings Vi back to the present moment, allowing them to continue forth with the journey.

I also think that seeing Isha getting hurt, brought back memories for Vi. Memories of her and Powder when they were younger, the good and the bad. The bad being the last time she saw her sister before being taken away to Stillwater. This brings back intense feelings of guilt and shame, which might be part of the reason that she says "why did you even come get me? you don't need my help, you haven't for a while."

Seeing Jinx now, and how capable she is, solidifies for Vi that she's no longer needed. She no longer needs to protect or shelter her sister from the monsters all around them. Her one reason to continue fighting, no longer needed her. This reaffirms that she has no purpose.

Now let's circle back to intense feelings of shame or guilt like I mentioned on the bulletpoint before, Vi accidentally hitting Isha and the follow up interaction between her and Jinx, probably brought the memory of her last interaction with Powder.

As we all know, her last interaction with Powder was after Vander died. In a moment of immense grief and anger, Vi slapped Powder and called her a jinx. Once she realized what she had done, she stared at her hand in horror and proceeded to walk away to presumably collect herself and calm down before facing her sister once more. However, before she could return to her sister (after spotting Silco coming toward her) she was taken to Stillwater.

Vi clearly regrets having done what she did. She has an intense desire to make up for it once she reunites with Jinx but they never really get the chance to actually talk. Would talking take away all the pain and all the damage? Would it make Jinx return back to who she used to be? No, of course not. But that didn't mean that Vi wasn't willing to still attempt to make up for it.

I think that seeing how Jinx went to Isha and provided comfort made her wish she would've done the same during that time. I think she wishes that instead of walking away, she would've stayed, apologized and figured where to go from there.

I think that when it comes to her sister, Vi will never fully let go of the guilt she feels over what happened. Especially now that she thinks Jinx is dead.

I will even go as far as to say that she never truly blamed Powder for the deaths of their family. I think she lashed out at her out of intense shame and guilt over dragging everyone to this point. By that I mean, that from Vi's perspective she has internalized everything that happened. If she hadn't tried to give herself up, Vander wouldn't have gone after her which would in turn mean that Silco wouldn't have taken him. This would've meant that she wouldn't have had to go find him, wouldn't have allowed Mylo or Claggor to go with her and wouldn't have left Powder alone because there would've been no reason to leave, no danger. This is, of course, misguided. Whose to say these things wouldn't have happened regardless? No one can truly know, but I think this is Vi's way of viewing the events that lead to her family dying.

Lastly preoccupation with death or violence. Vi is someone who is constantly preoccupied with death and someone who was raised around it as well as around violence. However, this isn't in regards to herself. Her preoccupation is in regards to her loved ones dying or getting hurt.

A majority of the times that we see Vi in a fight, she doesn't think twice. She goes in and doesn't really care or consider whether or not she'll come out of there alive. Her main drive is on making sure that those she cares about have safety and if that means dying in the fight, so be it.

At the end of the day, Vi's big heart and sense of responsibility is her biggest undoing. She never really ends up making her decisions based on her wants and more so makes them on the basis of what others need. This leaves her to completely disregard herself and her needs for the sake of other people.

What also confirms that she was passively suicidal are the lyrics of the song that plays during her montage as pitfighter. Maybe I'll go over that in another post. I've ranted enough as is lol.

[helluvapurf]

Welp, after a long... loooooong road of S2 to sift through in HB, here's my official review of the "Sinsmas" finale to wrap things up (*no Christmas pun-intended lol*):

NOTE: My thoughts below will contain some obv spoilers so you miiiight wanna skip this post if you haven't watched "Sinsmas" yet; also like with all my past reviews these are just my personal opinions alone (+fair warning that I'll be getting a bit rant-y later too), so... do remember to keep things civil if you disagree with anything here (and if not, welp... yall are free to block & move on, I guess lol 🤷‍♀️), thank you 🙏🙏

Loona continuing to show more appreciation & excitement around her dad/I.M.P. is great to see, and about time we finally got her joining in on an assassination gig again (which I don't think we've had since S1's "Spring Broken"?). I like her new Hellhound friends shown towards the end too, they look chill~

As much as I've lowkey grown a bit... disinterested in M&M these past few episodes (not to a hate-level or anything but they just don't really... "spark" for me, OTP-wise?), it is nice to see a return to their bloodthirsty-based couple fluff (aka: their lil Sinsmas-based playfight at the beginning), bringing me back a bit to the og pilot days (ex. "Oh Millie" ❤️). -Buuuut dang, who would've thought things would escalate to Millie turning out pregnant?? .o. I know there's been some controversy for Millie's less-than-happy reaction about it towards the end; but honestly I absolutely don't blame the poor gal if you consider: 1) She's a proud fighter & trained assassin who's always been passionate about her current line of work, and (depending on how imp pregnancies work) having this potentially putting her out of a job for a long while would make anyone stressed out imho 2) Imps are considered the lowest-of-the-low ranked species within Hell as it is; with not a whole lot of access to good paying jobs + medical coverage (given Blitz's struggle to get Loona her vaccinations). Imagine you were someone who found yourself expecting a child with a good chunk of Hell not considering you "high-up" enough in the food chain to care... wouldn't you get freaked out too? 3) Lastly, and this being among the biggest points to me personally... did her & Moxxie ever talk about having kids before? Given the implication that they rushed to get married so soon after dating (+Millie not even knowing about Moxx's mafia background til WAY after), I... can't say I'd be surprised if Millie's fear is partially based on how Moxxie would react (for better or worse). Kids are by-far among the biggest dealbreakers for any relationship, so while I don't necessarily think this'll cause something like a split between M&M... yeaaaah I wouldn't be surprised if this still caused some lingering-tension either way, regardless of if they go through with this pregnancy or not 🤷‍♀️ (On a side note; loved seeing Sallie May popping up to give that well-needed support to her sis on the phone, aww 🥺)

The side-story with the "karen" sinner and her ex-drama was... weird, all things considered? .x.;; Like, yeah I can see the importance of how this plays into Blitz's relationship woes & such... but, am I the only one who found it weird the writing going all "moralistic" with Blitz NOT going through with the job, solely cause he imagined his idealized family in Stolas (whom I'll cover in a sec btw-) upon spying on the target + his partner & kids? 🤨 Like... I know I've seen some argue that this is "character development" for Blitz, which I normally wouldn't mind seeing... but mind you, this is the SAME dude who was all-too-fine killing a bratty kid, a wife & her happy (albeit cannibalistic) family, a whole bunch of random college kids on spring break (all for the sake of some parking spot drama with Verosika btw), and not even two shorts ago some horny fangirl got met with the same fate by his hands (mostly due to getting caught up in her own fantasy world... and thats it lol). So I just... have a hard time buying into this being some grand "change of heart" moment for Blitz tbh, cause with this whole episode taking place during the winter holiday season (an already money-draining time irl as-is), I... can't help but find it a lowkey dick move of Blitz to rob his fellow employees of a chance to have some more cash on-hand (esp. after the events of "Ghostf**kers" and him draining the company's finances over his Stolas mope-fest, like come on dude-🤦‍♀️). Heck, if he really-really didn't wanna do it (and this target family seems innocent enough to potentially escape Hell if-killed)... couldn't they have just lied to the lady that they did the deed & take her money anyway (-instead of Blitz immediately punting her out the window 'cause she was bitching about Stolas' writing😑)? Again, this IS Hell we're talking about, so a bit of dirty-dealing doesn't seem far out of the realm of normal there lmao. Buuuut idk, that may just be me... 🤷‍♀️

We're back again with Andre leading the story as the "main" bad guy, and I'll admit his final confrontation with Stolas & the I.M.P. gang was pretty kickass~ From Stolas throwing the first punches at his smug-ass face, the action-increasing with the ice dragons & Loona going "feral"-mode, and even Octavia coming in to defend everyone from her uncle (with her own personal magic) was pretty rad! 🤩👏👏 One thing that's bothering me about it all though... where tf is Stella during all this going on?? 🤨I know the show's pretty much committed atm to making her as one-dimensionally dumb & evil as possible (not even giving her much substantial dialogue after her repeated "hiLARRRIOUS MUAHAAA~" lines 😒 ), but surely someone like her wouldn't miss the chance to see her ex (+affair partner) smacked down by her brother?? Especially once Via arrived, just imagine the juicy drama potential of seeing Stella having to force herself (+Andre) to call off their attack to appease Via (further adding in salt to the wound for her later decision to walk away from Stolas). Hhhhh Viv, why must u be so allergic to developing Stella (antagonism-wise)... 😔😔

Now, as far as Stolas himself is concerned... *-sighs-* I know I'm gonna get some flack for saying this, but I caaaaaan't with his dude anymore🤦‍♀️ Yes, I get he's going through a tough time losing everything + adjusting to a simple life now (along with implied-withdrawal symptoms from the lack of "happy pills"). But just... the way Stolas kept getting MORE & more whiny/unappreciative of Blitz (after all he's done to accommodate Stolas, defend him against other imps, giving him a job at I.M.P. on top of everything-), then never uttering a single "thank you" for Blitz's efforts frustrated tf out of me 😑😑. You expect to buy that these two are these "deep destined soulmates" at the end of the day, to the point of Blitz practically becoming a giddy cheerleader to boost Stolas at every turn... ...and yet, at the same time you're telling me Blitz has never asked about Stolas' eating habits before, nor Stolas ever asking about Blitz's love of horses?? That outside of their failed date at Ozzy's, they never once tried to actually talk, share a meal or hangout aside from their once-a-month hookups (pre-"Full Moon")? Sure, the show implies that Stolas has asked about Blitz's day before (via-some throwaway lines + blink-and-you'll-miss-it texts)... but if the audience never actually sees those friendly gestures on-screen, how am I supposed to buy them being in-love now?? -_- Like, to take a note from "Swan Princess":

Taking away their childhood memory of playing together for a day, the sexual chemistry, the grand gestures, them both having goth angsty daughters... what else IS there for Stolas & Blitz to love about each other, truly? Its one thing if you wanna show them starting over as friends first (awkward roommate-vibes aside), then hell yeah I'd be down to see their rebuilding bond as a more balanced, genuine pairing down the line (making moments like their big kiss + balcony dance 10x more impactful imo)!👍

...But, with how things are now with Viv & crew rushing to go full-romance mode already (regardless of either character's emotional well-being in the story), I... don't think I can see myself joining the Stolas/Blitz ship hype tbh, regardless of what's to come in the next couple seasons...🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Now, to cap things off regarding Octavia in all this... She. IS. A. STAAAAARRR😭🌟👏👏By far the best thing to come out of this finale IMHO; just seeing Via standing her ground as strongly as she did, both in-defense of her dad AND against him... goddd, that was powerful q-q💜 And before anyone mentions it, no I don't think Via was in anyway "wrong" for her reaction to Stolas (regardless of his efforts to reach her by the end). Imagine you're in her position; the product of an loveless, toxic marriage forced upon by a rigid society, living your childhood blissfully unaware & happy until everything comes crashing down in your teen years (through your father's public affair + your mother's rampant rage). All you thought was true is now a confirmed lie, you're stuck in an emotional mess dealing with your parents, and your beloved dad is constantly putting his booty call (+marital drama) a bigger priority over you (albeit unintentionally, but still-)...

Time & time again, Via's been let down by Stolas, the one parent she's always been closest to since the beginning... and to top it all off? Several episodes later, she's watching her father live on TV willingly ready to be executed in Blitz's place (without so much as a single goodbye message to Via, mind you-), effectively breaking his promise that he'd never leave her...

...So, really, how can anyone blame Via for simply being done with her dad, by that point? Stolas may be "trying", I know... but at the end of the day, it doesn't matter that he didn't "mean" to hurt her. What matters most is that... well, he did. More than he can imagine... 💔

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...weeeeew okay that was a bit lengthy my bad- lmao. As a whole, I'd say "Sinsmas" was an... ehhhhh-kinda finale? Like yeah I enjoyed the Via focus we got (+her song💜), the ice battle & the improved M&M + Loona writing... buuuuut oof, am I just exhausted by the Stolas/Blitz-melodrama at this point, oml >>;; No shade to those who did enjoy the finale regardless though, yall are more than valid! 👍👍 Maybe later on I'll give my overall thoughts on S2 (+the overarching story of HB) further down the line if I'm up for it... buuuuut yeah, hope yall enjoyed reading & thanks for sticking around my page~ (for any newer/older Hellaverse fans alike)!👋✨🌙

[allykakamatsu]

Twisted Wonderland DnD

Title says it all, basically here's what I think the NRC boys classes and species would be in Dnd

Notes:

This is me trying to adapt their powers not what they would pick, for example if I was going on what they'd pick Epel with be a goliath barbarian

Everyone's going to have a level cap of 15, with the exceptions of Leona, Malleus and Lilia cause they're noticeably older than everyone else so I felt fair giving them a few more levels due to more experienced.

I'm sticking to cannon species if I can, but I will be mixing it up in the cases where either A, there isn't a good substitute or B, I think it would be funny.

Just cause I like to I tried to give everyone a multi-class. Also this is being done with base 5e rules so none of the new 2024 stuff.

Obviously this is just for fun idc about being optimal here.

And with that House Keeping done, let's go!

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Riddle: Human, 3 Zealot Barbarian 12 Abjuration wizard

A caster with barbarian levels, well if there was ever a way to prove this was just for fun this would be it- Jokes aside the subclass doesn't matter too much here, I just had to squeak some barb levels in here cause of Riddle being a very angry boi plus him somehow having the strength to throw Floyd across the room during their orientation. The wizard levels are more straightforward, he's a smart boi and abjuration is where all the 'no magic allowed' spells are so yeah.

Ace: Human, 8 Arcane Trickster Rogue 7 Glamour Bards

Unlike everyone else sans Ortho, I didn't really have any unique magic stuff to use as a baseline for Ace, however one of his talents is sleight of hand tricks so I figured rogue would be a good fit, and Arcane Trickster with it's invisible mage hand in particular would be pretty fitting. As for bard, that one's mainly to show that he's a show off and Glamour is the one I always kinda see as the most flashy. Plus, look me in the eye and tell me Ace wouldn't be a Vicious Mockery spammer.

Deuce: Human, 5 Champion Fighter 10 Redemption Paladin

Probably one of the easiest ones for me to figure out tbh. Some flavour of fighter for his delinquent days and him getting into a lot of fights then (I went champion cause of crits but tbh any could work), and then redemption paladin cause he's trying his god damn hardest to be a good boi now, not much more to it.

Trey: Human, 8 Transmutation Wizard 7 Shepard Druid

And in contrast to Deuce being one of the easiest to figure out, Trey might just be tied for the hardest because I did not know where to begin here. Eventually I went transmutation wizard cause all of it's spells are about changing something which fits with his UM, and then Druid due to the nature and healing spells combo being a decent fit for his cooking and his big brother instincts. Again, this is the one I'm least sure on so if you have any other ideas please tell me.

Cater: Half Elf, 10 Lore Bard 5 Illusion Wizard

That moment when I have to justify the species more than the class-. Tldr, some writers, namely @ladyazurith , have sold me on the concept of half fae Cater so I wanted to throw that in, and since their isn't a half fairy race half elf will have to do. Meanwhile the class was really easy, Illusion wizard cause while there's no spell that quite replicates 'Split Card' their collection comes close, and lore bard cause Cater as a bard just feels right, though I'm open to thoughts on the subclass.

(rest underneath cut). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leona: Tabaxi, 5 Battle Master Fighter, 11 Storm Sorcerer

I love my lazy cat man, in general but also here cause he's easy to figure out. Any fighter subclass would've worked, I just went battle master cause some of the manoeuvres like tripping felt like things Leona would do in a fight, and the Sorcerer levels were mainly cause I wanted to get him disintegrate which was the closest spell I could find to King's Roar, I just went storm cause none of the other sorcerer origins seemed like the best fit

Ruggie: Tabaxi, 12 Thief Rogue 3 Enchantment Wizard:

Another simple enough one. Given his upbringing thief rogue just made way to much sense, and as for enchantment wizard well, that's the school of magic Hideous Laughter and it's stronger Tasha version belong to and that's such a good fit for 'Laugh for Me' it's not even funny.

Jack: Shifter, 10 Moon Druid 5 Cavalier Fighter

Thank you Savannahclaw for being simple- Jokes aside, Moon Druid is the class all about better wildshape, the ability that lets you turn into animals so it's perfect for 'Unleash the Beast', and again the subclass didn't matter too much for the fighter I just wanted it for more melee strength (+Jack wanting to copy Leona) and I went cavalier cause I thought it would be funny if he got the bonuses when he was the mount- Also went shifter cause there's no werewolf race and I had to improvise

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Azul: Simic Hybrid, 10 Fathomless Warlock 5 Whispers Bard

And in complete contrast to the last dorm the Octotrio were collectively a pain to figure out. Eventually I did settle on this though. There's no octopus race so I went Simic Hybrid purely because it can have all kinds of aquatic limbs including octopus tentacles so 'close enough' and Whispers is the spy bard so all the public charms plus a lot of sneakiness. As for warlock, look, I know realistically Azul would more likely be a patron than someone making a devil deal given how he is, but I couldn't resist plus nothing's stopping him from making deals of his own to take down his boss-

Jade: Triton, 10 Spores Druid 5 Whispers Bard

Before anyone makes the joke yes the twins being a species named Triton is ironic but again I didn't have the best options here. That aside, the class here was easy enough, the bard levels were mainly for fast friends and zone of truth which combined make a pretty good representation of 'Shock the Heart' and I went Whispers for the same reason as Azul. As for the druid levels well, Jade clearly loves nature given how he started the Mountain Lovers Club and all, wildshape is a good way for him to turn back into his true form, and well, Circle of Spores specifically is a creepy mushroom themed subclass which just fits way too well.

Floyd: Triton, 2 Land Druid 13 Hexblade Warlock

Despite how long this one took me to figure out this one's pretty simple. Druid for wildshape though unlike Jade Floyd isn't sticking around nearly as long, and Hexblade cause well, I wasn't actively writing down spell lists but I was keeping them in mind and out of all the classes that had the spells I wanted for him (shield and counterspell to try recreate 'Bind the Heart') warlock was the only one that gave any kind of melee game, plus idk Floyd does seem like the type to find a cursed sword and keep it as a pet. Also,I'm not going into abilities but he also absolutely gets the grappler feat cause boy has gotta squeeze.

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Kalim: High Elf, 12 Divine Soul Sorcerer 3 Creation Bard

After the fishies gave me a lot of trouble we're back to simple thank god. Kalim does scream sorcerer to me due to the 'being born with more magic without having to work as hard for it' thing (I mean this with love I love my sunshine boy) and I went with Divine Soul to kinda reference Kalim being one of only three students at NRC to use light magic plus given all the assassination attempts the various healing spells it comes with probably come in handy (also sorcerer's in general are good with con saves which is what you need to beat poison). The bard levels are pretty much just cause he likes performing and making people smile, subclass doesn't matter too much, and lastly high elves are like the typical high magic rich people race which I think is a good fit.

Jamil: Yuan-ti, 4 Assassin Rogue 11 Enchantment Wizard

Time for my babygirl everyone- My bias aside this one was fun and thankfully pretty simple. I went with Yuan-ti cause that's the snake race and I couldn't help myself (also it has advantage on poison saves so extra fitting), Assassin Rogue cause rogue is generally a good class for getting through social interactions, notably with deception which is fitting, plus I have a sinking feeling Jamil at least knows how to kill if not has already done so. And finally, enchantment wizard cause that's where all the mind control spells are, notably level 11 is when you get mass suggestion which is basically what Jamil did at the end of book 4.

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Vil: Human, 10 Alchemist Artificer 5 Glamour Bard

I know I could've been more creative with the species choice here but Vil was one of the first I worked on and I wasn't going full hog wild yet- That aside, this one was surprisingly simple, Vil is the best potion maker out of the dorm specifically dedicated to that so the subclass that's all about making potions was just way too fitting, and glamour bard because Vil is absolutely a bard and I tend to associate this one with being the most bright and showy which is a public image I think Vil would like.

Rook: Wood Elf, 12 Fey Wanderer Ranger 3 Eloquence Bard

A rare case where I knew the class right away but the subclasses were hard to nail down. I know hunter ranger seems like the obvious one but tbh I'm not crazy on it and the 2014 version especially is kinda boring so I looked at the others and I think Fey Wanderer fits Rook a bit better cause of his love of beauty and all Fey being pretty in their own weird little way, plus it's more light themed and since he's one of the light magic students I wanted to lean into that. Meanwhile I think the bard stuff he picked up from Vil and I went eloquence cause that one's all about the fancy words which Rook is full of. As for the species, I have no deeper reason other than Wood Elf feeling right admittedly-

Epel: Halfling, 3 Wild Magic Barbarian 12 Swords Bard

Sorry Epel, I love you but in my mind you're a tiny boy holding a comically large axe- As for why I didn't push that gag further, well that's mainly cause I wanted to replicate UM when I can, and for Epel the closest I could get with my level cap+multiclass rules was Wall of Force so he had to go caster, and since I realised the rest of Pomfiore were at least part bard I decided Epel can join in on the 'fun'. Though I did do him the mercy of picking College of Swords cause Vil can force this angry boi to play music and charm people but he's gonna do it in the most violent way possible-

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Idia: Fire Genasi, 10 Battlesmith Artificer 5 Shadow Sorcerer

This was easier than I was expecting ngl. Tldr, Fire Genasi was the closest I could get to... whatever is going on with his biology, Artificer is the resident builder class so it's a good fit and battlesmith in particular is all about making weapons which is kind of what Idia did with Ortho, and Shadow Sorcerer cause his weird blood basically mandated some sorcerer levels and shadow is all about death which fits Idia's deal pretty well.

Ortho: Warforged, 8 PSI Fighter 7 Shadow Sorcerer:

And in complete contrast to his brother, Ortho is probably tied with Trey for the character I had the hardest time with but hopefully this'll do. Warforged is the resident robot race so that was a shoe in, I just kinda assume Idia used some of his magic to create Ortho hence the sorcerer levels plus spells like magic missile is the closest I can get to his laser beams, and fighter cause it's the generically good combat class, again subclass is debatable. I tried but I have no idea what I was doing for this one tbh-

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Malleus: Fairy, 12 Draconic Sorcerer 5 Dreams Druid

Okay, I know Dragonborn is the obvious species here but man is literally the prince of the Fae and there's plenty of spells to transform into dragons so screw it Malleus is a fairy. Other than that it's pretty straight forward, Draconic Sorcerer cause no duh, and Dreams Druid cause A, Fae prince aka tied to nature and B, after book 7 I don't think I need to explain why Malleus having a sleep themes class is fitting.

Silver: Human, 13 Twilight Cleric 2 Dreams Druid

Okay, hear me out with the class here, namely cleric cause I don't think I have to explain Dreams Druid here either. Tldr, I wanted Silver to have plane shift cause that was the closest thing I could find to his UM. Unfortunately it's a high level spell so I can't properly fit in a martial class while keeping to my level limit. Fortunately cleric is one of the classes that has Plane Shift and it's good with melee weapons as well as armour, plus it's all about holy aka light magic so it's honestly kind of perfect. Also I went Twilight Domain cause Lilia found him at night and it's a nice way of showing how despite where he was from Silver true place is with the Fae rather than his birth family.

Lilia: Dhampir, 5 Eldritch Knight Fighter 15 Bladesinger Wizard

Okay I know I should've made Lilia a fairy along with Malleus but we all joke that Lilia's a vampire so when I remembered Dhampir was an option I couldn't resist. That aside everything else is fairly simple, a melee fighter with spell access in Eldritch Knight and a caster that prefers to fight at melee in Bladesinger, perfect for a former war general, and this way most of his actual spells can go to fun utility options, as well as more... questionable spells like ones to 'help' with his cooking.

Sebek: Lizardfolk, 10 Ancients Paladin 5 Storm Sorcerer

Again, there isn't a half fairy option so I had to get creative, but instead of just going half elf again I decided to do a silly and lean into the crocodile jokes. As for the classes, Storm Sorcery was mainly for the lightning spell access, and paladin was just too good of a fit for Sebek. I was tempted to go Crown due to his loyalty to Malleus but I decided on Ancients due to his pride in his Fae side but this one is pretty debatable. Though a bonus for paladins in general is Aura of Protection which provides allies advantage against fear.... the situation was more despair instead of fear but it still works pretty well for a certain moment in book 7

If you made it this far, thank you for indulging my bullshit