#spoiler alert: it is a lizard. sorry.

[coquelicoq]

"save him and his bestie from your sister's evil minion" wasn't even part of the five-year plan. that one was a freebie

[theodore-sallis]

“…Man-Thing!” Savage Tales (Vol. 1/1971), #1.

Writers: Roy Thomas and Gerry Conway; Penciler, Inker, and Letterer: Gray Morrow

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwith a disney princess

premise. surely there's been a mistake, cause there's no way someone out of place like you ended up at nrc, right? (spoiler alert: months later and they will fight whoever might drag you to rsa)

featuring. dorm leaders (from diasomnia to heartslabyul)

content. at best this might imply a female reader, given they're based of a 'princess' but I tried to take the gender vague and focused mainly on the qualities of them! mc has hair in the rapunzel part lol

note. no beta we die lol. I worked on this by group so i honestly don't remember if I accidentally gendered mc. I absolutely love idias part lmaoooo

malleus (aurora)

ooh intimidating x soft couple.

you look way out of place in somewhere like nrc of all places, given your mother is the infamous sleeping beauty (infamous, in the college’s standards that is.) your kindness is easily taken advantage of, even if you do realize it there is always forgiveness spared for the undeserving.

said kindness was extended to the quiet malleus.

surprise no surprise. he’s impeccably drawn to the sparkling aura you seem to exclude. malleus feels as though there are traces of familiar magic always hovering around you, like its embowed into your very being. a blessing would be a better word for it.

well, he’s just curious but if he were to ever ask he’d be met with the confirmation that you were, indeed blessed by the same three fairies your mother was blessed by (minus the curse… ironically he’s quite similar to the same lady that your mother loved and looked up to.)

he’s just fascinated. something as glittery as you, shiny like gold would’ve been whisked away to his nice tower, homey. he’d tell you. almost as if making its image seem heavenly. (lowkey highkey getting your consent for kidnapping)

animals always seem to flock around you everywhere you go, they sneak around to reach you. in your dorm, during lunch, even in class. there’s either a bird on your shoulder or a squirrel making itself comfortable atop your head. its a curious sight, critters don’t really like him much.

in short they run away, humans or animals alike are both afraid of his presence it seems.

so he’s incredibly still when you nudge an adorably round bird in his palm, peering at it with cautious eyes. tense as a statue lest it flies away.

cue staring contest.

he felt incredibly accomplished that day, and immersed him in the role of making this creature like him. leaving seeds, offering it the most sought off food from the valley, literally conjuring a small home for it. everything.

HE’S SO HAPPY.

malleus often asks of you to sing, perhaps its the blessing talking but its the most unique form of sound he’d ever heard in his life, the more he sings the more he wants to imbue his very being with the loveliness of your song.

always following you around like a lost puppy (lizard?) any evil that actually wants to take advantage of your unfortunate naive desire for peace and kindness is scared away. although malleus would never want your interactions to be reduced entirely because of him, he only starts looking like a demon one he figures out their motive is less than fitting for you.

“yeah, the ingredients were to complicated for me to remember—”

“oh! perhaps i can help you?”

spots the demon behind you (just your lovely giant staring them to their grave.)

“you know what i actually got it— sorry for wasting your time.” you watch them, confused as they dip.

you look to him, as though to ask what just happened but he merely casts you an oblivious glance and shrugs.

favorite past time → coddling you in his dragon form.

he was doubtful whether he should pull through in actually showing it to you, since you were already such an angel towards him. would it be a stretch if he let a selfish desire get in the way? perhaps you’d get scared if you see how large he is there—or if he’s—

idia (rapunzel)

okay that amazed smile on you was totally worth it.

wow your hair is fire.

he should have never made a comment about it in the first place because now you’re completely confused about his reference, were you living in like… in isolation? a cave? you’re a little less worse than the scarabia’s dorm leader when it comes to being oblivious.

just two idiots miscommunicating, he atleast is trying to make an effort to explain that he doesn’t mean it literally but his wording is so bad that you get absolutely nothing from what he is trying to infer.

okay your hair though.

“why is that person stuck in that square!?”

good thing ortho was near cause you almost charged towards a television and judging by the, pan!? in your grip you definitely would have smashed the screen trying to be righteous and rescue the character.

okay then. 1. don’t let you near electronics, specifically when its playing something.

you are a literal danger to his society. shivers

you’re always asking something like “what are those glowing balls on the ceiling?” those are lights… “why is that thing speaking?!” that’s a speaker… “why is it on fire?” oh that’s his hair, he doesn’t really know either it was just like that.

it does feel a little nice to get asked like that and he’d know the answer (its literally the most common knowledge ever but whtv)

EPIC! idia is now trying to figure out how resistant your hair is. its literally like, the most OP shield there is!

at first he had some reservations. like, used a knife once and was flabbergasted when it came back in half. your hair didn’t even move an inch. then he got motivated and tried a sharper sword, longer, and larger of course. he let ortho handle it cause he probably would have stabbed himself.

“wtf.”

flinches cause the half of the sharp end came completely off and stabbed right beside his head onto the wall.

what are the limits of it?! had some doubts before using one of the tech he came up with, it could literally cut through a diamond and he isn’t sure if its entirely safe but you’re all for it cause you were always curious whether your hair could even get cut in the first place.

anyway you’re way too happy to be near a lazer that could obliterate you and its kinda infecting him. yikes.

less than happy cause the lazer literally got reflected by your hair and hit itself so it’s just gone.

on the bright side he can use you as a scapegoat (in a good way)

alright. 2. don’t enrage you unless he wants to experience getting hit by a pan really hard.

wow. he felt that for days.

maybe its the hit or he’s just feeling a little woozy whenever you’re around.

definitely the pan.

vil (mulan)

bold x shy couple

pretty x pretty defender

he’s used to people heeding his suggestions but damn, are you a stubborn one.

not only have you not listened to his propositions for becoming a more refined person (cause the way you held yourself was too.. much for him to ignore, and it bothered him for a long time until he decided to help you.) but he can respect you, he supposes. not a lot of people can stay true to themselves.

it seems like epel, the boy himself has taking a liking to you. no wonder he’s been becoming more rebellious lately.

vil would never stoop so low to purposely direct someone advice that would change their entire self, decimate their unique traits. but all he told you was out of the goodness of his heart, if you’d be less clumsy of your ways your reputation would be better for the long run.

not being respected amongst nrc is never a good thing.

still, you’re still headstrong. never too overconfident, nor cocky. just a humble soul, that’s rare so he tends to stick by you if he ever wanted an honest opinion cause people just tell him what he wants to nowadays. vil never enjoyed the biased remarks.

more often than not he enjoys making your already pretty face, prettier than it is.

finds out you’re no bark and all bite, he never even knew you could take down someone who has an advantage over you in physical terms. come on, its savanaclaw. apparently the guy had spared him an unsavory comment and (apparently, in your defense. only told him a few words, got attacked so it was self defense.)

it came a surprise to him. seeing as you’re generally relaxed in nature, your military prowess a mystery to most since you seemed content with resorting matters with peace. though you seem to lack more restraint when it comes to your close relationships.

vil scolding you in the infirmary (you don’t have a scratch, and the guy whose pride you handed back to is in some corner lamenting cause he can hear you guys.) and you just taking it.

contrary to how you first treated to each other. you seem to be more prone to his opinions, or suggestions the more you progress with each other. he admits maybe he was too outright in his manner of speaking the first time, but it only highlights the change you’d gone through with each other.

you’re the perfect doll, in a way. not in a demeaning way or anything but its so satisfying to him to use products on your face just for the sole reason that you sit so still. his absolute favorite past time is skin care together even if you mostly just follow his lead.

you and epel must be kindred spirits, once he was on his way to retire to the indoors of pomefiore. seeing as it started raining, heavy so it meant it would stay for a while. and then paused when he spotted you both sharing words.

and planting apple seeds in the rain? both of you are stained with the rain, some dirt and mud alike. and vil had never looked so mortified. so just cause you don’t protest when he cares for you doesn’t mean you’re bothered by getting dirty he guesses.

“you both… clean yourselves up, i’ll brew medicine lest you fall under the weather.” ← disappointed sigh.

kalim (jasmine)

ended up waiting for you both to finish under the covers and ushered you both to baths.

you have a tiger!

just living char x their absolute biggest stan

wow you have a tiger.

did he mention you have a tiger?

majority of nrc knows not to mess with you haha, if it’s not obvious already with the seemingly lax tiger that behaves like some sort of overgrown cat following you around and growls at someone when you aren’t looking.

then you always raise a brow at the people who tell you otherwise. “bab doesn’t bite.”

kalim is lowkey highkey their biggest fan, i mean. jamil is having the worst year of his life dragging kalim away wherever you seem to be because the first apparent instinct of the boy is to try to pet the tiger cause it’s ‘cute’.

at some point jamil had to investigate your routine throughout the day, what you do, where you go at specific times like after classes conclude to make sure kalim doesn’t cross path with you.

well, not necessarily you but rather your… tiger. which is hard, honestly. you seem to visit scarabia a lot for a reason unknown. jamil would be suspicious you’d be planning something but all you really do is stay out on the balcony with your companion.

but alas, fate would have it otherwise.

“hi,” kalim blurts before he could remember his friend’s warning. you turn, along with your… also friend who watches him closely. you blurt out a greeting back, seeing as it’s courtesy, you seem to be amused at his fascinated eyes staring at your tiger.

“want a pet?” you offer, bab making sounds of protest.

jamil almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you attached by the hip, only calming down a few weeks later. seeing as your companion wouldn’t pose as much danger as he assumed, seeing as the tiger’s protectiveness started extending to the ray of sunshine.

rich couple ig. everyone overhears your conversations and doubles over. “i had a small statue of gold made for bab, for you.” and then a; “oh, thanks. but we already have a lot at home. hmm…”

actually it’s not really the manner of being attached, more like two following you. kalim, and then your cutie pie tiger.

your reserved nature in particular greatly contrasts kalim, yapper x listener i guess. although the object of his interest was initially because of bab, he might as well be another overgrown cat of yours cause he seems to love touch.

its concerning cause bab themselves felt challenged for your affection and when they spotted kalim’s head nestled on your lap they ‘accidentally’ kick him off.

in a way you seemed untouchable, pet included. you don’t seem to mind kalim much, people might even go as far as to say you enjoy his company. occasionally the vice of his dorm as well, the three of you have this sort of aura that screams ‘don’t approach’

said aura is in the form of a very big cat.

azul (ariel)

one time you admitted to having not much friends and three heads turned towards you. face twisted incredulously.

he doesn’t know why but you looked like you went through ten stages of grief (3 more cause the 7 definitely wasn’t enough.) when you took a glance at him, during the time you were looking around, you almost went past him, actually. but then doubled back immediately.

that’s concerning.

morally suspicious (devil in disguise) x angel

azul often asks your opinions out of habit, he himself isn’t even sure when it started but he considers you a factor in decisions. though he does prefer to keep you out certain… endeavors of his away entirely, no need to concern your innocence in his doings.

as such he often uses the twins to steer you away from trouble cause you seem to have no sense for it whatsoever, whenever there’s a fight brewing instead of walking off you stride closer. curious to whatever was happening.

and, you believe too easily apparently.

jade had held you by your shoulders and directed you away from the fight before the dispute reached you and inevitably dragged you in. “why are they fighting?”

he replied. “ah, well. they inhaled an unpleasant shroom and got affected.” your mortified face spoke you believed him. human culture! you thought.

your brain should be inspected honestly. floyd told him all about the pile of stuff you had “found” in your dorm, ranging from innocent collectibles to items that brought the question of whether or not they were really yours but you didn’t really claim otherwise, just that you found em’ so no more questioning.

azul doesn’t even wanna know why you started staring at mushrooms like they were a mortal enemy of all living forms. speaking of, the three of them didn’t even consider that you could be from the sea as well. seeing as, well. you have two feet, even if they have the same.

besides the fact you’re too clumsy for your own good you sure had no fear when you leapt overboard during a field trip cause a trinket that caught your eye fell and gave the entirety of the attendants a heart attack. floyd had patted him on the back and wishes him condolences.

also the shock of the century when you emerged, pretty tail and all. holding it the trinket up like you just found it the most fascinating thing on the globe.

since then underwater dates were a thing. which took a lot of prompting honestly, you didn’t know he was a merman either, curiously asking him what kind he was. in nature, you were persistent. like a need to sate your questions so he eventually relented.

even then, it took a while before he let you see the form. ← to his fluster you seemed engrossed in this form of his. swimming around him and asking questions.

now azul also have a small pile of items hidden in a box beneath his bed, all from you. which, upon being opened would be mistaken for unused items since its literally random stuff, and a concerning favor towards forks.

oh yeah. sometimes the tweels crash your date.

you could be in his office, going about your business. chilling on his couch and playing with one of your treasures and be completely unaware of the ominous discussion ongoing within the three about anemones? contracts?

“what are you guys talking about?”

“hairstyles for azul.”

“what—”

“ooh. i can brush his hair so you can style it!” pulls out a fork.

leona (belle)

“oh my sevens, WAIT—”

i was having a crisis trying to think of a dynamic so why not just, beauty x beast.

leona is less than pleased to admit he doesn’t like you much. or atleast, he used to. it was clear his feelings of you was reciprocated, based on the uninterested side glances you cast him. your type, well liked, pristine, proper, and informed reminds him all to well of what mold he was forced into. though it never really fit.

you on the other hand, just dislike him in general. more pointedly as to how he acted, too self righteous in your opinion. he sure spends a lot of time moping about how he could have been king when he’s acting like he’d be a terrible one. you’d say it to his face but even you aren’t too crude.

if you’re both looking at the bright side though, you’d probably prefer each other’s company above others. you’re quiet, perfect for napping around. he’s surprisingly true to himself, his morals aren’t too bad either.

as such, to your disdain he now naps in the library. which you had titled your own space, but he didn’t really just care.

relatively you’re a lot more cool headed than he is, you told him concerns about his laziness which he weaved through. after opening up with each other… well you know how it goes.

okay, fine. you no longer berate leona for napping at the public space, quickly shut up when he threatened you. “i’m gonna tell you the real reason ‘m here nowadays if you don’t calm down. and it ain’t the peace i’m here for.” he eyes you, and you shut up after that.

leona doesn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed at the fact that you stand up to whatever he says. ‘that’s rude,’ this. ‘are you out of your mind?’ that. at some point where he doesn’t wanna admit, leona had disliked seeing you upset (particularly towards him) that he started listening.

at others is a different story though. he will gladly watch you shut down someone else.

sometimes he makes weird remarks, like. “throw an egg at them, who knows might hatch into a chick and give them the company they’ve been lacking.” ← just bullies random people while you defend them. “what? don’t be stupid, eggs that are sold don’t hatch into chicks.”

you often lament in his arms, regretting ever coming near his sleeping frame cause next thing you know you’re subjected to prison, and you had accidentally dropped the book you were reading so even if you try to reach for it he’s pulling you back.

will reach for it if you ask tho lol.

just one look from you has him suddenly behaved tbh.

bothers your productive time by crashing it with his opposite word of productive idk im to lazy to check. more often than not tramples over your things, but always looks dead to life when you end up scolding him heavily.

also kicks out the animals that gravitate towards you for some reason, got jealous of a bird nestled in your hair once cause apparently you paid too much attention to it.

apparently told ruggie to fetch books for you when you’re running out, at that point you might actually milk the nrc library with how fast you burn through them.

“you’re not even from here, what do—”

“actually. originally from times before, they—”

riddle (cinderella)

got lectured about history, eugh.

easy to fluster x enthusiastic and sweet

how are you so nice.

you’ve got most of the population of nrc enamored with your natural charm alone, though some do tend to mock you. unfortunately they aren’t wrong, you really do fit in more at a different school like rsa with your personality.

i mean you fit the bill, kind, pretty, talks to animals.

good for you though. cause riddle would prefer a behaved student than a troublesome one anyway so he would definitely dig you lmao.

speaking of. he definitely goes to you whenever the hedgehogs are lost in the maze, or the flamingos just don't wanna step out the farther spot from the pond, somehow they love you in whatever you do.

as in, you spoke to the hedgehogs with a lower tone. almost like a coo, and he almost tells you to stop because that's the universal worse tone to talk to hedgehogs until... it nuzzles into you?!

flabbergasted, he can only watch.

sevens... you're just so pleasant to be around he could die.

at some point it felt like you were the epitome of being kind. riddle understand that the virtue was just embedded into you, letting others berate you for whatever... he even thought you were too kind for a place like nrc where the complete opposite traits are admired.

you are, but only to those who deserve it. riddle had the pleasure to spot you nitpicking a crude student and they looked like they were gonna burst into tears.

so... you knew what to say almost always. when troubled, he'd learn that it's best to talk to you cause you'd know what to say to ease his worries, when you're treated wrongly? sevens.. you also know what to say.

but, in a putting whoever in their place way?

(idk man I'm just rambling at this point lmao idk how to write a cinderella reader.)

riddle has grown accustomed to random critters breaking in the door. well, he was used to animals in the first place. or atleast thought he was when he opened a door in the dorm and almost yelled at the sight of a group of mice looking like they were having conspiracies.

a few weeks after that he knocked on doors before opening them.

was also very disturbed when you announced they were your friends.

I don't know. I feel like he'd lowkey be the type to write your name in a heart on the back of his notebook and straighten his face like: 'what in the world am I doing' but not erasing it anyways.

over time, your little 'friends' got used to him, and vice versa. at the very least he isn't screaming at their sudden visits, be it flying through the window or just popping out of something they climbed on.

who's screaming though are his dorm members, and he's found humors in the encounters.

"ah, thank you, myrcella." he nods gingerly, toward the very tiny white mice who seems to twirl around, touched by the thanks. the little thing was nice enough to carry the pen he'd been using to scribble down the main definitions he'd been copying from the textbook.

in the middle of reaching for a glass of water the door opens, riddle watches one of his residents striding in rambling. probably about to be exposed to the sight of a group of mice sleeping on top of each other atop a cushion he'd personally placed for them.

and maybe the birds. whom seemed comfortable by his small collection of plants.

"dorm leader, octavinelle stude—GAHHHH—"

[akirathedramaqueen]

A little bit of mumbling about the Full Moon episode and Stolitz drama

ALERT: multiple Helluva Boss spoilers, so, please, be advised

Yea, it's another episode of "I can't get over relationship issues of a red lizard and a tall owl", so buckle up, and let me give my share of thoughts about how important was what we have seen in the "Full Moon" episode.

I appeciate if you read it, because it's quite big and I realise, that not much people like longreads, but I desperately wanted it out, and I wanted to try to engage with HB community, as I saw so many wonderful points, analysis, and observations out here.

So... let's go, I guess!

The Growth Concept

Once, my therapist told me, that sometimes, the only way to grow and do better is to face a challenge you cannot avoid anymore, albeit desperately would want to. We do not grow, when everything is convenient and stable, no matter whether "stable" means stability or stalling. We grow, when life pushes us to do so, when we have nowhere to run anymore. When there is... when there is just no other way.

The Full Moon meeting, albeit infinitely sad and hurting, was the challenge for them to become the better versions of themselves. Stolas caused the rumbling, something you cannot take back anymore, something which couldn't be returned to status quo. It was very brave of him to do so, to give the chance to be open and vulnerable for a change.

"It's... we're not... it's not a... It's a transactional fucking, you see" - S1EP5. As you may witness here, in S2EP8, exhibit A is clearly not happy with the transactional deal ending in his favor

But could it be better than that?

Even before the episode came out, I don't think anyone had expectations for the meeting to not turn out ugly. Trailer already hinted at that, and, besides, their earlier interactions gave nothing of "let's communicate" vibe.

Stolas was not clear about wanting to talk their issues out, the viewer was the only one who knew he longs for that. Yes, you may say that Stolas *suggested* to discuss what happened at Ozzie's, as we have seen at the end of the "Western Energy" episode, but immediately retreated after, I am sorry, a simple question "why?". It does not mean "no", yet, Stolas instantly gave up and fell into one-side poor explanation of what he thinks happened, not giving Blitzø space to engage.

People also like to mention Blitzø's one-liners of an answer, implying him not wanting to do anything with Stolas, but I want to point out how Stolas himself bolted out of every opportunity to meet. Blitzø never said "no" clearly, and still Stolas cut every opportunity out.

Notice also how Stolas's messages are much more complicated and over-explaining, while Blitzø's are extra short and on point. I think it also shows in how different environments they were raised in, with Stolas knowing royal etiquitte, where everything is a sub-text, intrigue, rules, and no one is quite clear on intentions, and Blitzø not giving second thought about what leaves his mouth, or, in the case of messages, textbox. It's not only in their ability to simply write grammatically accurate, it's in their style of communication, culture even, where the problems of Stolas is to play the politics, and Blitzø's problem is to simply stay on float for another day.

And Blitzø? Hell, my poor man is deaf, blind, mute, and emotionally illiterate. It took Fizz 40 seconds to crack the case open in the "Oops" episode, and Blitzø didn't even pick up on it, despite being said twice he is wrong about Stolas. He would never come to *that* conclusion himself, even if the whole show cast will scream "STOLAS LOVES YOU" in his face. How can you expect him to even try to comprehend hints in behaviour and messages? And don't be fooled by his "it's only transactional, you see" moments - when he never says he is into Stolas, the show gave us plenty material to doubt that statement. He averts his gaze, saying "it's only a deal", hence he lies. He blushes when seeing Stolas's human form, hence he likes him. He is offended and hurt by Ozzie's accident, hence he cares. He crawls himself on knees and is not bothered by chains, hence he wants to belong to Stolas. He doesn't voice his desires once, but you know they are there.

So, no, before that night, they had no chance of getting better, because they were too deep in their own trauma and world view. I want to make that clear, just in case if someone still wishes it went better.

And that leads us to the Full Moon, where all cards were out

There is plenty of analysis already all over the Internet on every frame of the show, how beautifully it's written, and how masterfully it was performed, when you can see so much in each tail flinch, each face expression, each movement, and each word. I won't go into that, I think I would be rather repeating things said so many times by so many observant fans.

What I want to add, though, is... The fail was unavoidable, but necessary. It was not preventable because of many things, also explained many times... But, shortly, just to carry on the point, you cannot undo years of trauma, self-hatred, and abandoment issues in one night. You cannot revert all of the mess they already created with the whole deal thing.

But you can face the issue. You can stand up to it. You can break the wrong and to try to rebuild to do it right.

And that's what Stolas did. He stood up not only to his fears, but also to Blitzø's, and his desperate attempts to retain status quo.

Stolas challenged both of them.

And a small note: another thing which went wrong is how much of a shock it came out to Blitzø. Stolas was ready to face the challenge, because he couldn't take it anymore, he planned that night for weeks. Blitzø was not ready for that at all, but Stolas pushed him to the point of no return, and Blitzø was forced to adapt to the new reality in seconds.

Their reactions make so much sense. While Stolas was ready, there is a difference between being ready to face it, and being capable of facing it gracefully, and Blitzø... well, he didn't even have a minute to internalize all what's going on, and Stolas being for once extremely clear in intentions didn't help, because trigger already kicked in.

But is it that bad, really?

No, I don't think so. In fact, that fight they had was even good for them.

As tragic as it was, they got something out of it. Now there is no space for doubts about them having feelings for each other. Sure, they might be adamant about other wrong assumptions, that their partner now hates them and they are trash of a hellbeing, or whatever else they heard instead of what's actually been said, but, again, there is no doubt it's fucking serious. They cannot pretend or hide anymore that this is "just a deal".

That exchange opened the space for them to grow. Despite me feeling like I was stabbed after watching the episode, I am... even glad it turned out this way, because now, when all the words are said, all crutches broken, old wounds are opened and actively bleeding, there is a chance for them to heal, and to learn how to walk, not allowing their trauma to shape who they seem to be and inhibit their real selves.

There is now hope for them. You can clearly see them being vulnerable in the last trailer, and being together, on one couch, at least... one can only hope that they will have the capacity of having just one more proper talk.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, I know I speak too much, and no, I am not okay, but I hope it was at least a bit entertaining for you :d Also, English is not my first language, soooo... cut me some slack with grammar and consistency, please, haha

Happy to carry on the great mission of overanalyzing every bit of information we have about them XD

[aion-rsa]

The Star Trek: The Original Series Episodes That Best Define the Franchise

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

By the time my generation got to watch Star Trek: The Original Series, the episodes often were being presented in top-ten marathons. When I was ten-years-old, for the 25th Anniversary of Star Trek, I tape-recorded a marathon of ten episodes that had all been voted by fans as the best-ever installments of The Original Series. Later, I got lucky and found Trek stickers at the grocery store and was able to label my VHS tapes correctly. But do I think all the episodes that were in that marathon back in 1991 were really the best episodes of all of the classic Star Trek? The short answer: no. Although I love nearly every episode of the first 79 installments of Star Trek, I do think that certain lists have been created by what we think should be on the list rather than what episodes really best represent the classic show. 

This is a long-winded way of saying, no, I didn’t include “Amok Time” or “The Menagerie” on this list because, as great as they are, I don’t think they really represent the greatest hits of the series. Also, if you’ve never watched TOS, I think those two episodes will throw you off cause you’ll assume Spock is always losing his mind or trying to steal the ship. If you’ve never watched TOS, or you feel like rewatching it with fresh eyes, I feel pretty strong that these 10 episodes are not only wonderful, but that they best represent what the entire series is really about. Given this metric, my choice for the best episode of TOS may surprise you…

10. “The Man Trap” 

The first Star Trek ever episode aired should not be the first episode you watch. And yet, you should watch it at some point. The goofy premise concerns an alien with shaggy dog fur, suckers on its hand, and a face like a terrifying deep-sea fish. This alien is also a salt vampire that uses telepathy that effectively also makes it a shapeshifter. It’s all so specifically bonkers that trying to rip-off this trope would be nuts. Written by science fiction legend George Clayton Johnson (one half of Logan’s Run authorship) “The Man Trap” still slaps, and not because Spock (Leonard Nimoy)  tries to slap the alien. Back in the early Season 1 episodes of Star Trek, the “supporting” players like Uhura and Sulu are actually doing stuff in the episode. We all talk about Kirk crying out in pain when the M-113 creature puts those suckers on his face, but the real scene to watch is when Uhura starts speaking Swahili. The casual way Uhura and Sulu are just their lovable selves in this episode is part of why we just can��t quit the classic Star Trek to this day. Plus, the fact that the story is technically centered on Bones gives the episode some gravitas and oomph. You will believe an old country doctor thinks that salt vampire is Nancy! (Spoiler alert: It’s not Nancy.)

9. “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield” 

There are two episodes everyone always likes to bring up when discussing the ways in which Star Trek changed the game for the better in pop culture’s discourse on racism: “Plato’s Stepchildren” and this episode, “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield.” The former episode is famous because Kirk and Uhura kiss, which is sometimes considered the first interracial kiss on an American TV show. (British TV shows had a few of those before Star Trek, though.) But “Plato’s Stepchildren” is not a great episode, and Kirk and Uhura were also manipulated to kiss by telepaths. So, no, I’m not crazy about “Plato’s Stepchildren.” Uhura being forced to kiss a white dude isn’t great.

But “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield,” oddly holds up. Yep. This is the one about space racism where the Riddler from the ‘60s Batman (Frank Gorshin) looks like a black-and-white cookie. Is this episode cheesy? Is it hard to take most of it seriously? Is it weird that Bele (Frank Gorshin) didn’t have a spaceship because the budget was so low at that time? Yes. Is the entire episode dated, and sometimes borderline offensive even though its heart is in the right place? Yes. Does the ending of the episode still work? You bet it does. If you’re going to watch OG Star Trek and skip this episode, you’re kind of missing out on just how charmingly heavy-handed the series could get. “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield” is like a ‘60s after-school special about racism, but they were high while they were writing it.

8. “Arena”

You’re gonna try to list the best episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series and not list the episode where Kirk fights a lizard wearing gold dress-tunic? The most amazing thing about “Arena” is that it’s a Season 1 episode of The Original Series and somehow everyone involved in making TOS had enough restraint not to ever try to use this Gorn costume again. They didn’t throw it away either! This famous rubber lizard was built by Wah Chang and is currently owned by none other than Ben Stiller.

So, here’s the thing about “Arena” that makes it a great episode of Star Trek, or any TV series with a lizard person. Kirk refuses to kill the Gorn even though he could have, and Star Trek refused to put a lizard costume in a bunch of episodes later, even though they totally could have. Gold stars all around.

7. “Balance of Terror”

The fact that Star Trek managed to introduce a race of aliens that looked exactly like Spock, and not confuse its viewership is amazing. On top of that, the fact that this detail isn’t exactly the entire focus of the episode is equally impressive. The notion that the Romulans look like Vulcans is a great twist in The Original Series, and decades upon decades of seeing Romulans has probably dulled the novelty ever so slightly. But, the idea that there was a brutally cold and efficient version of the Vulcans flying around in invisible ships blowing shit up is not only cool, but smart.

“Balance of Terror” made the Romulans the best villains of Star Trek because their villainy felt personal. Most Romulan stories in TNG, DS9, and Picard are pretty damn good and they all start right here.

6. “Space Seed”

Khaaaan!!!! Although The Wrath of Khan is infinitely more famous than the episode from which it came, “Space Seed” is one of the best episodes of The Original Series even if it hadn’t been the progenitor of that famous film. In this episode, the worst human villain the Enterprise can encounter doesn’t come from the present, but instead, the past. Even though “Space Seed” isn’t considered a very thoughtful episode and Khan is a straight-up gaslighter, the larger point here is that Khan’s evilness is connected to the fact that he lived on a version of Earth closer to our own.

The episode’s coda is also amazing and speaks of just how interesting Captain Kirk really is. After Khan beat the shit out of him and tried to suffocate the entire Enterprise crew, Kirk’s like “Yeah, this guy just needs a long camping trip.” 

5. “A Piece of the Action”

A few years back, Saturday Night Live did a Star Trek sketch in which it was revealed that Spock had a relative named “Spocko.” This sketch was tragically unfunny because TOS had already made the “Spocko” joke a million times better in “A Piece of the Action.” When you describe the premise of this episode to someone who has never seen it or even heard of it, it sounds like you’re making it up. Kirk, Spock, and Bones are tasked with cleaning-up a planet full of old-timey mobsters who use phrases like “put the bag on you.” Not only is the episode hilarious, but it also demonstrates the range of what Star Trek can do as an emerging type of pop-art. In “A Piece of the Action,” Star Trek begins asking questions about genres that nobody ever dreamed of before. Such as, “what if we did an old-timey gangster movie, but there’s a spaceship involved?”

4. “Devil in the Dark”

When I was a kid, my sister and I called this episode, “the one with giant pizza.” Today, it’s one of those episodes of Star Trek that people tell you defines the entire franchise. They’re not wrong, particularly because we’re just talking about The Original Series. The legacy of this episode is beyond brilliant and set-up a wonderful tradition within the rest of the franchise; a monster story is almost never a monster story

The ending of this episode is so good, and Leonard Nimoy and Shatner play the final scenes so well that I’m actually not sure it’s cool to reveal what the big twist is. If you somehow don’t know, I’ll just say this. You can’t imagine Chris Pratt’s friendly Velicrapotrs, or Ripper on Discovery without the Horta getting their first.

3. “The Corbomite Maneuver” 

If there’s one episode on this list that truly represents what Star Trek is usually all about on a plot level, it’s this one. After the first two pilot episodes —“Where No Man Has Gone Before” and “The Cage”—this was the first regular episode filmed. It’s the first episode with Uhura and, in almost every single way, a great way to actually explain who all these characters are and what the hell they’re doing. The episode begins with Spock saying something is “fascinating” and then, after the opening credits, calling Kirk, who is down in sickbay with his shirt off. Bones gives Kirk shit about not having done his physical in a while, and Kirk wanders through the halls of the episode without his shirt, just kind of holding his boots. 

That’s just the first like 5 minutes. It just gets better and better from there. Like a good bottle of tranya, this episode only improves with time. And if you think it’s cheesy and the big reveal bizarre, then I’m going to say, you’re not going to like the rest of Star Trek. 

2. “The City on the Edge of Forever”

No more blah blah blah! Sorry, wrong episode. Still, you’ve heard about “The City on the Edge of Forever.” You’ve heard it’s a great time travel episode. You’ve heard Harlan Ellison was pissed about how the script turned out. You heard that Ron Moore really wanted to bring back Edith Keeler for Star Trek Generations. (Okay, maybe you haven’t heard that, but he did.)

Everything you’ve heard about this episode is correct. There’s some stuff that will make any sensible person roll their eyes today, but the overall feeling of this episode is unparalleled. Time travel stories are always popular, but Star Trek has never really done a time travel story this good ever again. The edge of forever will always be just out of reach.

1. “A Taste of Armageddon”

Plot twist! This excellent episode of TOS almost never makes it on top ten lists. Until now! If you blink, “A Taste of Armageddon” could resemble at least a dozen other episodes of TOS. Kirk and Spock are trapped without their communicators. The crew has to overpower some guards to get to some central computer hub and blow it up. Scotty is in command with Kirk on the surface and is just kind of scowling the whole time. Kirk is giving big speeches about how humanity is great because it’s so deeply flawed.

What makes this episode fantastic is that all of these elements come together thanks to a simplistic science fiction premise: What if a society eliminated violence but retained murder? What if hatred was still encouraged, but war was automated? Star Trek’s best moments were often direct allegories about things that were actually happening, but what makes “A Taste of Armageddon” so great is that this metaphor reached for something that could happen. Kirk’s solution to this problem is a non-solution, which makes the episode even better. At its best classic Star Trek wasn’t just presenting a social problem and then telling us how to fix it. Sometimes it was saying something more interesting — what if the problem gets even harder? What do we do then? 

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The humor and bombast of “A Taste of Armageddon” is part of the answer to that unspoken question, but there’s also a clever lesson about making smaller philosophical decisions. In Star Wars, people are always trying to rid themselves of the dark side of the Force. In Star Trek, Kirk just teaches us to say, “Hey I won’t be a terrible person, today” and then just see how many days we can go in a row being like that.

What do you think are the most franchise-defining episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series? Let us know in the comments below.

The post The Star Trek: The Original Series Episodes That Best Define the Franchise appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3qfxnii

[gxrcias-gothgf]

Davey's Birthday Headcanons (Darvy)

Darvy my boys

We all love them

Anyway Davey’s birthday

Darcy’s favorite day of the year

This boy

He goes all out

Balloons, cake, tons of presents, all the things

Darcy actually got Davey to sleep for once

So Darcy gets up super early just to make breakfast for Davey

Maya also helps him because she is the best

He also got Davey’s favorite milkshake from the diner where they had their first date

But he also gets Davey some iced coffee

Because this boy needs his caffeine 

So when Davey wakes up

Darcy brings in the food and milkshake and coffee

There is so much food my goodness

Anyway so

Darcy has Davey open two presents after breakfast

Davey thought those were the only presents and internally thanked god

Spoiler alert they weren’t but we’ll get into that later

ANYWAY

The first present was a hoodie

Now since Davey is taller than Darcy, he can’t really wear Darcy’s hoodies so Darcy likes getting hoodies in Davey’s size and spraying his cologne on them

Or he wears them for awhile before giving them to Davey

So that was Davey’s first present

And the second one was a pair of slippers

Don’t ask why he just thought it’d be a nice gift

So then Darcy is like alright ready to go ice skating

“I’m sorry wHAT”

“You heard me. Now put on your hoodie and get dressed”

My poor boy

He was so against it

And then they got on the ice and he realized he was really good at it

Darcy however

My other poor boy

HE THOT HE COULD

He could not

So it gave Davey an excuse to hold his hand

Even though he didn’t need one but ya know

Darcy is a god awful ice skater and should just stick to sitting on top of basketball hoops

So anyway

I need to stop saying that but whatever

So after their done Darcy probably fell and hurt his back because that poor boy will never stop having back problems please god give him a break

So after that Darcy takes him to lunch at the diner they went on their first date on

It's their favorite place leave them alone

Tater tots and milkshakes that’s all they order

I swear

Right so

After that they go to a park just to hang out for awhile

They lay down on a grass hill

Their just talking and laying there

Right and so then Davey just laughs

No reason he just laughs

Darcy is like what?? the?? Fu-

He gets tackled by Davey who is still laughing

They started rolling down the hill

Their both laughing and loving life

It's adorable 

So eventually they decided to head back to Darcy’s place

And like Davey knows something’s happening but like

Oh he wasn’t ready

“ITS BRITNEY BITCH”

Everyone jumps out dressed as ninjas

But

But they yell the Britney thing

Davey almost has a heart attack

“when I said surprise me I DIDN’T MEAN THIS”

“i’m overDRAMATIC OKAY?”

God I love these boys

“I hope you like it though because it took a lot of convincing and money to assure that Race didn’t dress up like Shakira”

Everyone changes out of ninja clothes because they just said no

Eventually Davey is forced to open presents 

He insisted no one get him anything

He knew they wouldn’t listen

So he opens them and just like

He loves his friends so much

They love him just as much if not more

He’s the best I’m telling you

Les filming Davey’s reaction to the card he got him

“Happy birthday Raven god dammit Les”

“Oooh Davey said a potty word” -Maya

Les is smiling so much

Darcy high fives him and hands him five bucks and Brendon Disco (Darcy’s lizard)

“DARCY THERE’S SEVEN HERE THAT SAY THEY’RE FROM YOU”

Tags: @katherinebly @piper-koko-barnes-rogers

[lothcatlovesysalamiri]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla Characters: Ezra Bridger, Sabine Wren, Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus, Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, C1-10P | Chopper, Original Rebel Alliance Character(s), Wedge Antilles, Cilghal (Star Wars) Additional Tags: IN THIS HOUSEHOLD WE RESPECT YSALAMIRI, First Kiss, Young Love, etc - Freeform, All the Stuff I Always Do with These Two, (No Sexytimes Tho Sry), VERY Brief Cameo by CASSIAN!, The Sickness is Literally Only a Plot Device to Get Sabine to Realize Her Feelings, (Sorry Ezra), season 4, Spoiler Alert: No One is Going to Die, I am Not About that Life, I Don't Have a Medical Degree, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, The Medic Ships It, A Dirty Joke or Two, Found Family, Crew bonding, Crew as Family, Heavy Angst, Major Illness, Almost Everything I Know about Medicine Comes from 3 Seasons of House, Booting up the old EU because IT LIVES Summary:

While on a quick trip down to an unknown planet to replenish the Ghost’s water supply after the reclaimer goes out again, Ezra is bitten by an unfamiliar lizard. As strange neurological symptoms start to appear, he learns it was an ysalamir. The medic can’t make a diagnosis, but Kanan can. It’s Force sickness, an evolutionary defense wielded by only a few species in the galaxy.

And there is no antidote.

[chemicalcindercat]

Frisk freed the monsters from the underground, completing a true-pacifist run. She was living happily on the surface with her monster family. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't. When Frisk gets hit by a car on her way over to Sans house, everything changes. Not only does Frisk forget herself, her friends, and all of her adventures in the Underground, but something else has changed. Frisk glitches the Multiverse.

Chapter Summary: Frisk did not expect to have this many “best friends”.

Chapters (8/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Fandom: Undertale

Rating: T (For violence and hints of adult themes)

Relationships: Sans x Frisk, Underfell Sans x Frisk, Underswap Papyrus x Chara, Slight Underswap Sans x Frisk

Additional Tags: Amnesia, Lost memories, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, ...Have I mentioned there is Hurt/Comfort?, Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Goat Mom is best mom (Undertale), King Fluffy-Buns - Freeform, Sad Asgore (Undertale), Female Frisk (Undertale), Aged up Frisk (Undertale), Like duh she’s an adult i’m not a pedo, gross, Verbal Frisk, Frisk has a voice in her head, Sans is a depressed bean, Papyrus is so innocent, Frisk glitched the multiverse, oh whoops, spoiler alert, more tags will be added as we progress

"Well, Ms. Dreemurr, it would appear you have a mild case of Amnesia." The doctor said, flipping the pages on his clipboard. "You hit your head pretty hard when that car slammed into you. You're lucky it isn't worse." He looked at the worried couple standing in the corner of the room. "Her memories should be back by the end of the week. We'll keep her here for tonight, but tomorrow she can go home. She doesn't have any broken ribs, or really anything wrong except for the memory loss, which is practically unheard of for an incident like this. But anyways," The doctor turned back to the confused girl laying in the hospital bed. "If you need anything, just hit the buzzer on the bed next to you." And with that he left the room.

As soon as the doctor was gone, the couple turned to look at the girl. They were strange, the girl could tell. She couldn't remember anything past 10 minutes ago, when she woke up, but something told her that goats weren't usually able to walk, talk, and be, well, normal people.

"Um...Frisk, are you feeling well?" The woman asked, worried. The girl thought for a moment. Was she feeling fine? She honestly didn't know. How could you know if you were feeling fine, when you didn't know what fine was? She didn't know if fine for her was everything being perfect, or terrible. So instead of answering the question, she answered with a question of her own.

"'Frisk'? Is...Is that my name?"

The woman looked like she was about to break down in tears, so the man took over. "Yes, dear, that's your name. Frisk. Do you really not remember anything?" Frisk shook her head. "Well, uh...I-"

"She's your 'mom', Toriel, who you live with; He's your 'dad', Asgore, who you don't. They're divorced, you're adopted, and I'm Flowey, your 'best friend'." Frisk jumped. She had forgotten about the flower on the desk next to her that could talk.

"N-now, Asriel, that's no way to-"

"My name is Flowey." The flower corrected. Okay, Frisk was confused, to say the least. What in Asgore's name were they talking about? Before she could ask, the door slammed open, a blue fish-woman entering, with a yellow lizard-woman following behind nervously.

"Frisk!" Yelled the fish-girl, running over to the hospital bed. "We heard what happened! Are you okay? How are you feeling? Did you break anything? Because that would be cool and yet suck all at the same time. Did you finish Mew Mew: Kissy Cutie? Are you-"

"U-undyne, M-maybe we shouldn't b-bombard her with s-so many questions at o-once? Her head p-probably hurts." The lizard girl interrupted. Undyne looked at her, before looking back at Frisk.

"Oh my Asgore, I'm sorry! Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Are you-"

"Undyne, Frisk has amnesia." Toriel announced. Both Undyne and Alphys turned to look at her.

"What??" They said in unison.

"Y-you mean… Y-you don't remember us? You d-don't know who we a-are?" Alphys asked, walking over to Frisk. The human girl simply shook her head.

"I...I don't remember anything. And no, I don't know who you are. Who are you?" She asked.

"We're your anime pals!" Undyne said, putting her arm around Alphys' shoulder and grinning. Alphys blushed.

"E-every T-Tuesday you come over t-to our house and w-watch anime with us." Alphys explained. "T-this week, the newest season of M-Mew Mew: Kissy C-Cutie is airing, a-and we were going t-to watch it together. You r-really don't remember?"

Frisk looked down at her hands sadly. "No...I don't...I'm sorry."

Toriel came over and hugged Frisk. "It's okay, my child. There is no need to apologize. Do not blame yourself, child; There is nothing you can do. The doctor said by the end of the week, you'll remember, and I'm sure he is right. All we have to do is wait."

Frisk wasn't sure how she felt about this woman she couldn't remember hugging her, but she decided she kind of liked it. Besides, the lady seemed to need it more than Frisk did. Before Frisk could say anything, the lady stepped back, and the door slammed open again. At this point, Frisk was surprised it hadn't fallen off it's hinges. This time, there were two skeletons who entered the room. One was really tall, as tall as Undyne and Asgore, with a red scarf. He was also carrying what appeared to be a plate of home cooked spaghetti. The other one had a blue hoodie, and was shorter, maybe even shorter than Frisk. Once she thought about it, Frisk realized she didn't know how tall she was; She hadn't stood up yet. Would she even remember how to walk? She started panicking, wondering how she would remember to do normal, everyday stuff.

Calm down, Said a voice in her head. Quit panicking about everything.

Before Frisk could respond, the tall skeleton came over and set the plate down on the desk beside her.

"HERE YOU GO, HUMAN! THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS MADE YOU SOME YUMMY SPAGHETTI!! FEEL FREE TO EAT IT WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE IT, FOR IT WILL SURELY BE THE BEST! NYEH HEH HEH!" He yelled, and Frisk winced a little, not expecting it. She smiled softly at him, not knowing who he was.

I sure did have a lot of friends. She thought.

Yeah, no kidding. Said the voice in her head.

...I just wish I could remember them…

The smaller skeleton pushed past the bigger one, with a nervous grin on his face. "how ya feelin', kiddo?" He asked, his voice surprisingly deep compared to the other skeleton.

"Um...well...I-"

"NONSENSE, BROTHER. WHY ASK HOW SHE IS FEELING WHEN SHE'S IN THE HOSPITAL?" The tall skeleton interrupted. Frisk couldn't believe it. Were they really brothers? They were so different! The skeleton turned towards her. "BUT DON'T WORRY, HUMAN. I'M SURE MY SPAGHETTI WILL MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER IN NO TIME!"

"yeah, kid, eat up. boneappetite." The shorter one said. The bigger one groaned.

"UGH, SANS, DO YOU HAVE TO MAKE PUNS RIGHT NOW? YOU MIGHT GIVE THE HUMAN A HEADACHE!"

"nah, look at her, paps. she likes it, you should know that by now, ya numbskull." Oh, so I like puns? That's good to know. Even as Frisk thought this, she could immediately tell it was true. When Sans (was that his name?) made a pun, she had struggled not to laugh.

"BROTHER!!" The taller skeleton protested. "WHETHER SHE LIKES IT OR NOT, A HOSPITAL IS HARDLY THE PLACE TO MAKE PUNS!" He yelled.

"geez, paps, who broke your funny bone?" The shorter one asked, winking at Frisk and stepping closer to her. Something inside of her pulled, and she could tell that he was really close to her. "so anyways, bucko, how're you feeling?" He asked softer, so that only she would hear.

"Well, I just-"

"Heya Papyrus, how're you doing?" Asked Undyne, throwing her arm around the taller skeleton's shoulder. "I know the situation isn't the best, with Frisk and all, but are you still up for some training today?"

"YOU BET, UNDYNE!" Papyrus said loudly. "AS LONG AS THE HUMAN IS ALRIGHT, THAT IS! THE GREAT PAPYRUS MUST BE THE BEST FRIEND EVER, AND A GOOD FRIEND WOULD TAKE CARE OF HER!"

"You're right, Papyrus, but I'm her best friend! Remember?" Undyne argued.

"SUUUUUURE, YOU CAN BELIEVE THAT IF YOU WANT, BUT IT'S WRONG!"

"Guys, I-" Frisk was interrupted by Flowey, suddenly defensive.

"Whatever, you idiots can pretend that she likes you better, but I'm obviously her BeSt FrIeNd!" Flowey claimed, in a demonic voice that sent a shiver down Frisk's spine. Suddenly everyone started talking all at once, Undyne and Papyrus still arguing over Frisk, Flowey hissing at everyone, Alphys nervously asking Asgore how he's been, Toriel joining in the conversation. All of the noise, and all of the new information was really giving Frisk a migraine. She sank deeper under her blanket, trying to block everything out.

Someone grabbed Frisk's hand, and she immediately jumped and yanked her hand back, to see Sans with a look of confusion and hurt. It quickly faded back into his normal smile.

"so, kid, what is it you've been trying to say this whole time?" He asked. Frisk gulped nervously as he leaned closer to her, and she leaned away from him a bit. Doesn't this guy know anything about personal space??

"I...Well, uh...Who are you, exactly?" Frisk asked.

Everyone immediately stopped talking and turned to Frisk.

The pupils in Sans' eyes disappeared, leaving two empty eye sockets, a look of pure shock. For a couple of moments, nobody dared to say anything.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HUMAN?" Papyrus asked, being the first to break the silence. "'WHO ARE WE?' IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND MY BROTHER SANS, YOUR-"

"frisk, what did the doctor say? what…wh...you...you really don't remember me? remember us? anything?" Sans asked, his pupils returning and studying Frisk closely.

All Frisk could do was shake her head.

"I… I have amnesia."

Before anyone could say anything, Sans was gone.

[sakuralou2689]

" The past has no power over the present moment. " 

- Eckhart Tolle

(Around Five Decades Ago: MTF Facility, California, USA)

Amnon-Selah remained silently sitting on the floor and seeing some of the scientists and D-Class personnel who had been observing him in the past few days. From the first encounter of SCP-682, the Kree-Lizard hybrid became catatonic and developed some onsets of nightmares which it had sunk into his consciousness. Amnon never wanted to experience such tremendous hardships from his abuser and became more terrified than ever. These had been running on his head for the past several days. 

Just then, the MTF personnel began his series of interviews. Amnon-Selah refused to answer any of these questions and uninterested to open up from any topic. He never wanted to let them know how he felt to be experimented and contained. The Kree-Lizard boy was deeply thinking something else: Freedom, Knowledge, Truth, and Love. Amnon never experienced them for the rest of his life in his containment cell for it was despair, sadness, and fear had developed within him. He never wanted anything of those feelings. Still, he got violently exploited by any of the SCP objects, every time he cried for help. No one cared to help him at all and watched him how the hybrid suffered.

Streaks of the hybrid's blue blood had soiled the floor and the walls. Amnon bitterly wailed when his tears went running on his face. Wounds, scars, and bruises had appeared all over on his green scaly skin. He wanted to break free from these hardships and thought of gaining freedom and normality.

In that afternoon, he was still sitting at the cell's farthest corner and refusing to look at anyone. Amnon heard murmurs from the outside and remained putting his face on his knees. Suddenly, he heard the loud opening of the door as the D-Class personnel had released an SCP Object from the cage. The Kree-Lizard boy slowly turned around and saw the same abuser from several days ago. 682 was evilly grinning and chuckling at him. Amnon began to feel shaking in his entire body in meeting him. 

" Well, well, well, what do we have here…" the indestructible lizard spoke and slowly circled around the boy. " It's good to see you again… my double…"

" J-Just leave me alone…" Amnon frighteningly answered and tightly kept holding his knees. " I-I d-don't want you, here. J-Just s-stay away! " 

" What's the matter? Are you afraid in confronting me? "

" I said...LEAVE ME ALONE!! " 

682 heard the hybrid clone's cry and darkly chuckled. He readied himself to torture Amnon and add his miseries. The Kree-Lizard hybrid's tears were running down on his face. He was afraid to receive another beating from the indestructible lizard. 

" No, I will not leave you alone, " 682 replied and slashed the hybrid's tail. " I will let you experience pain and total darkness before you die! You cannot handle the Abyss itself! "

" No, let me go! " 

Amnon loudly shrieked in pain and bled once again. The sharp claws had stricken and pinned down into the Kree-Lizard hybrid's bluish flesh. 682 repeated his act and made the boy wailed. The MTF personnel just watched the torture from the window. A steak of blue blood had stained the walls, floor, and the window glass. The indestructible lizard punched and scarred the Kree-Lizard boy's abdomen when Amnon's mouth was full of blue blood. 

" I believe I'm gonna die here…" he sadly thought and helplessly looked at his abuser. " I have enough of this! I can't take this anymore! This pain, this agony. If only I can fight back, but I can't! " 

" What's the matter, Boy? " he grinned. " You cannot handle anything from me! " 

" P-please leave me alone… I don't want to see you anymore…." 

" Fine, then…I will let you see how death brings you! Darkness will surely bring your end! " 

" N-no! No! Stay away from me! P-please! " 

682 instantly grabbed Amnon-Selah's neck and tightly choked him. The Kree-Lizard hybrid was struggling to break free and widening his eyes in shock. He was trying to let go of the indestructible lizard's claws and gasping for breath. 

" I….I c-can't breath….S-stop! " Amnon cried in his faint voice as he was turning pale. 

Suddenly, one of the personnel felt pity at the Kree-Lizard hybrid and watched him dying in the brutal hands of 682. The man took the microphone and called their attention. 

" That's enough, 682, " a male voice echoed inside the cell. " Let the hybrid clone go! "

682 ceased his torture activity and glared at the window, " I am not finished yet taking his life. This weakling deserves death! " 

" The boy is a special case. He's more different than you!  We order you to let him go! You have done enough for today! Now, go back to the cage. " 

The indestructible lizard angrily spoke in gibberish and left Amnon bleeding and heavily panting. He returned to the cage when the D-Class personnel headed away from the containment cell. The Kree-Lizard hybrid had a hard time standing up and began limping. He approached the window and wanted to vent out. 

" Why are you doing this to me?! You are letting me suffer like this! " Amnon loudly cried. " Is this what you want because you're thinking I'm dangerous as him?! I'm not what you are thinking of! Please listen to me! I don't want these anymore! I'm so tired and fed-up with all of your experimentations! You made me agitating, but I don't want to hurt anybody!  I have done nothing wrong, but you just let me experience death! Please if you're hearing me right now, I'm asking you to leave me alone! I don't deserve these! All I want is my peace and sanity here! "

No one responded from the other window. The MTF scientist who spoke up and defended the boy felt sorry for him and sadly sighed. He wished he could do more for him, however his colleagues diverted his attention to something else. The scientist sensed Amnon's misery and pain and thought of comforting him. The rest of the people left the room as Amnon fell down on the floor. Alone and beaten-up, he was silently weeping and curling up. 

(Spoiler Alert Excerpt from Captain Marvel: My Mother Book 2)

[tenspontaneite]

Boundless (Chapter 2/?)

Chapter warnings: Body horror. Dysphoria? Some level of dysphoria and dissociation.

Spoilers for s3e2.

(Chapter length: ~9k. Ao3 link)

---

He woke up to the sound of Rayla cursing quietly over his head, and stirred. “Rayla?” He mumbled, incoherent and slurred from the edge of sleep. “Whas’wrong?”

She was silent for long enough that he opened his eyes, blinking blearily to resolve the shape of her, to see what she was doing. “…Sorry for waking you.” She said, softly, as if still trying to preserve his slumber. “You can sleep a little longer, if you want.”

He was a little more concerned about the barely-leashed fear behind her eyes. He fought towards alertness, and pushed himself up, and-

The new-limbs slid across his back.

Heavy. Heavier. Larger than he remembered – enough that he shot up the rest of the way in alarm, hands coming around to feel one, and-

“Holy-“ He yelped, cutting himself off more from shock than anything else. “Rayla, is that – did it really-“

“They’ve grown.” She confirmed, tightly, and shuffled over beside him, seated on her knees. “A lot.”

Still a little numb with shock, he took it by the base of a clawed finger and pulled it out from his side. It had felt so disgustingly heavy and meaty and foreign last night, when it was comparatively tiny, but now?

Now, the thing was – it had to be nearly as long as his arm, if perhaps somewhat slimmer. And the other one undoubtedly matched it. He wasn’t entirely clear on how big they’d been when they came out, but – if they hadn’t doubled in size, they couldn’t be far off it. “It’s only been a few hours.” He muttered, reeling, and stared at the skin of it in the merciless light of day. Maybe Rayla had been able to see this, what with her better night vision, but – it really was kind of disgusting. The skin was a dark fleshy pink, and disturbingly translucent. He could see the lines of blue veins running along the limb. He could see muscles, and – and tendons, and… “What are those?” he wondered, a little confused, and poked at what looked like a strange black dot underneath the skin, one of many arrayed against the outer edge of the limb. They extended all the way along the longest finger on the hand-joint, too, but not either of the other fingers.

“…Your guess is as good as mine.” Rayla said, voice strained, and reached out with a wavering hand. “Can I…?”

He blinked, almost surprised that she’d asked. “Of course.” Slipped from his lips, a reflexive response, and a little embarrassing for it. Still, she reached out to touch at one of the many black dots, and frowned a little.

“There’s something under there.” She concluded, after a little prodding. “I thought I saw these last night – but they’re more obvious now. They’re poking at the – your skin, a little.”

His stomach twisted. “So not only are things bursting out of my back, but they’re bursting out of the things that burst out of my back.” He said, a little sourly. “Great.”

She shrugged. “At least you can’t feel it?” She offered. And then-

Then, as if solely to spite her-

The limb twitched.

She jumped back from it as if it were a snake, rather than a limb of dubious and unpleasant provenance. He did more-or-less the same thing, but as it was attached to his body, this was not especially helpful. The end result of this was that he ended up half-fallen over on his side, staring at the ugly fleshy limb hanging over his side with wide and wary eyes.

“Did that just-“ He started, at the same time as she said “It moved!”, and they stared at each other for a moment of mutual astonishment.

“…Can you feel anything?” She ventured, after several seconds had passed, and the limb was still laying there placidly.

“…Not that I’ve noticed?” he answered after a moment, and pushed himself back up. After all, he’d just been pretty much squashing one of the limbs, and hadn’t felt anything, so he didn’t exactly expect that to have changed. Still, though….Cautiously, he reached out and poked it, and…still felt nothing.

Rayla eyed it pensively, and then, without warning, reached out and pinched its skin sharply between her nails.

It twitched violently away – spasmodic and uncoordinated, but….moving. Moving and responsive. As if it were capable of responding to pain that he couldn’t actually feel. He eyed her, not certain whether he should be peeved at the pinch or not. After all, he hadn’t actually felt it, but…

“…You really didn’t feel that?”

“Not at all.” He said after a second, admittedly bewildered, and poked and prodded at the limb some more. It didn’t provoke any new response, though, until a few seconds later it just sort of twitched mildly on its own. One of the clawed fingers at the end flexed in a spasming, jerking movement, and then went limp again. “…That’s kind of disturbing.” He observed, as clinically as he could when it concerned something growing out of his own body.

A second later, their observations were interrupted as Zym, apparently oblivious to all of his, rolled over in his sleep and onto his right wing. Both of them quieted, reminded that one of their party was still trying to sleep, and then communicated in a series of wordless glances and pointing gestures the need to remove themselves to a little further from the sleeping dragon.

They ushered themselves further over by the water, leaving Zym nestled amongst their bags. The back-limbs swung on his back as he walked, and as he came to a stop, twitched all-over in a spasmodic motion that fluttered against the skin of his back.

Rayla looked at his back at the same time he craned his neck to look over his shoulder. “…Do you think they’re going to start moving on their own? Like, properly?” She wondered, as if speaking an idle thought aloud, and he shivered.

“I really hope not.” He expressed fervently. “That would be beyond creepy.”

“…You’ll probably be able to move them eventually.” Rayla offered, in a sentiment that would have been more reassuring if she didn’t sound so uncertain about it. “They’re still pretty…red and raw-looking. They’re probably still…developing.”

He eyed the limb at hand with dislike. “I mean, they do still look…baby-skin-ish.” He agreed, deeply sceptical of his (alleged) own flesh. “But I’m pretty sure babies’ arms work. Maybe these will just…hang around uselessly forever, making it stupidly hard to wear shirts.” He contemplated his own ongoing shirtlessness, wondering how he was meant to actually wear clothes, now. Surely the addition of two giant stupid back-arms would make shirt-wearing a challenge?

“Twitching?” She suggested, looking as if she were trying very hard not to find morbid humour in the situation.

“Twitching through shirts,” he agreed, with deliberate levity, and saw her suppress a smile. “Everyone will think I’m hiding a couple of lizards in my jacket, or something.” He recalled some of Ezran’s more audacious attempts to bring animals into the castle, and the corners of his lips turned upwards.

She huffed, amused, and shook her head. “Well, I’m sure we’ll find out soon, if nothing else.” She said, which cast something of a pall on what little lightness he’d managed to muster. She was right, of course. The things had doubled in size in a few hours, so if they were likely to develop further…it’d happen soon. Sooner, probably, if he used any spells.

He frowned, suddenly, something about that thought prodding at him. “…Rayla,” he said, slowly, and her eyes went a little more alert, chin rising to look at him questioningly. “How long do you think it’s been? Since I, uh, cast a spell the last time?”

She blinked, tilted her head as if focusing on something, and ventured “Around five hours?”

Unease settled like a leaden weight into his gut. “….It was maybe a couple hours between the first two times I had to cast a spell.” He said, mostly to himself. “And then…longer, maybe? Three hours? And now…”

Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You didn’t wake up.” She realised, following his track of thought. “That weird…sky-magic-breath-thing – it’s not happening again?”

Callum took stock of himself; of the breath in his lungs, the Sky filtering leisurely into his blood, the arcanum within that welcomed magic in every time he inhaled…

There was magic in him. There was magic everywhere in him. But it wasn’t too much. It wasn’t building, wasn’t pooling, wasn’t stretching his lungs out until they felt fit to burst…

Slowly, like a foregone conclusion, he became aware of where exactly it was draining. To his fledgling magic-sense, the Sky was in him, and flowing through him, and…draining, very efficiently, into the new limbs in his back. It was disconcerting to be able to feel the flow of magic inside their blood-supply, when he couldn’t feel them at all by the more native sense of touch.

“The magic’s going into them.” He said aloud, nonplussed by this perfectly logical turn of events. It made sense, what with how everything had happened, but still… “It’s like…before, it had nowhere to go – or it did, some of it was going into…these things, but – it wasn’t flowing right? There wasn’t enough…room? I don’t know.” He puffed out a breath, frustrated by the difficulty of putting it into words.

Rayla frowned at him. She was far from the most magically-learned person in the world, but she at least tried to understand his arcanum-and-magic stuff, and he appreciated that. “…It drained it all out when you cast those spells, though.” She pointed out.

“Maybe that’s because some of it went out through the spell, so there wasn’t….a blockage?” He suggested, a little helplessly, then shook his head. “No, that’s probably not right.” He sighed.

Gingerly, she patted him on the shoulder. “They’re your weird-arm-things, Callum.” She said supportively. “And your Sky arcanum. I’ll do my best, but…” She shrugged. “Not exactly my area of expertise.”

He smiled half-heartedly at her. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.” A horrible thought struck him, and he stilled. “I wonder if my spells are even going to work, now.” His own words set his gut to squirming with awful, sickening dread.

She blinked, clearly not following. “…What?”

“The last two times I cast a spell – it didn’t really come out right.” He recalled, thinking of a wind-breath that barely gusted, a lightning-bolt that barely sparked, a spark that barely fizzled…

“I thought that was because you were out of breath and panicking.” She said, and then frowned with him. “But – no, that last time yesterday, you were fine. Well, fine, except for the…” She waved at his back. “You-know.”

‘You-know’, indeed. He supposed there weren’t a lot of diplomatic ways to say ‘the limbs that grew under your skin until they started tearing their way out of you’. “It was like all the magic went into these, instead of into the spell.” He remembered, uneasily, casting a look to the one in view. He lingered, uncertainly, knowing what he should do but not quite managing to find the nerve for it. “Like…there wasn’t any magic left over to do anything. So it…didn’t come out right.”

“Are you going to try it?” She asked directly, cutting straight to the heart of his newest anxiety.

He twitched. “…I should.” He said, as if to himself, with deep reluctance. Rayla looked at him expectantly, and he twitched again. “It’s not that easy, though.” He defended. “What if-“ The words caught in his throat, for a second, and then came out sounding uncomfortably afraid. “What if…it doesn’t work?”

The fear hung in the air along with the words he’d uttered, unexpectedly galling.

What if it didn’t work? What if, after everything he’d been through, and everything he’d gained – he couldn’t even cast spells anymore? What if the things on his back just…sucked it up, and always would, and he’d just be a weird magical human with weird magical limbs who could still never have the magic he actually wanted?

Rayla looked at him, sympathetic and firm at once. “Try it.” She said, offering her hand. “There’s only one way to find out.”

He took a deep breath, reached out to clutch at her fingers, and exhaled. “…Okay.”

With her other hand, she reached out and patted him on the bare arm, and abruptly he almost forgot to be afraid because he was too busy being self-conscious about the amount of skin he was showing. He felt his cheeks heat, and he looked away, reminding himself that he’d been shirtless all morning and all night and he should be used to it by now, and really it wasn’t like he could help it…

“Okay.” He said, more firmly, at least half to put a stop to his rambling thoughts. His gut clenched tight with dread that he tried not to focus on too much as he – not thinking about it, not thinking about what it’d mean if he failed – extended his hand to draw a rune into the air.

Aspiro, this time. His first spell. His easiest. The one he knew in his breath and blood, now, knew in the spark of a Primal nestled beside his heart. To his new understanding of the Sky, it was a perfect spell, a reflection of what the magic was in its purest form. He breathed into the Sky, and the Sky breathed into him. He understood this spell, now, in the same instinctive way that he understood the beat of his heart.

It should be easy. A spell that spoke to the breath of the Sky….it should be the most natural thing in the world.

He touched his finger to the air, inhaled magic, and-

The rune-light came as easily as it ought. The word, when he spoke it, came easy, too. The magic coming in from the Sky, coming in through his arcanum – it flowed like the unhindered wind. Easy, open, effortless, full of the pure exhilaration of the open air. But that was where the ease ended.

It started as it ought. The magic followed the spell into his breath, pooling in his lungs and following it up the centre of his chest as he began to exhale, chasing the air-

And then it stuttered, falling from the breath like a stone from a cliffside – and where it fell it was snatched away. It only took an instant. Just that. Nothing more than a second…and the things on his back, quick and remorseless and greedy, stole the magic away. All of that power, all of that boundless, exhilarating energy…just gone.

He blew out the breath anyway, even knowing that the spell was broken, even knowing it wouldn’t work. The air tumbled from his lips, and was nothing more than itself. Just breath, rather than Breath. Just air, rather than the issue of the Sky. Just empty, barren, powerless air.

The sheer, gutting failure of it hit him like a physical blow; he crumpled forwards, and hardly noticed the weight increasing on his back.

He only realised he was crying when Rayla took him by the shoulder and turned him around. He only had a second to blink at her through tears, only a second to realise that there were tears, and then she pulled him into a hug. He shook a little as her arms closed around his back – surely having to negotiate around the presence of those awful, magic-stealing things now – and buried his face gladly in her shoulder.

“It didn’t work, Rayla.” He mumbled, distraught, into the fabric of his own scarf around her neck. “It didn’t work.”

Her arms tightened. “…I know. I’m sorry, Callum.”

“It’s gone.” The words tumbled out of him, all misery, all hopelessness. “My magic – I only had it back for – for maybe a day. And it’s gone.”

A beat, and then she drew him back from her, as easily as if picking up a ragdoll. He blinked at her, eyes bleary and cheeks tear-stained. “Hold on a minute, let’s not go that far.” She said, voice firm, but carefully gentle. “Your…Sky arcanum. You still have that, right?”

For a second the question sounded absurd. Of course he had the Sky arcanum. She might as well ask him if he had blood or skin or hair – and then he managed to think past the utter depth of his arcanum to remember that he’d not always had it. That it wasn’t even really a day old yet. “Well…yeah.” He admitted, uncertainly.

“There you go, then.” Rayla nodded, with a small encouraging smile. “You’re still a magical creature, if you’ve got that, right?”

His eyes flickered down to his still-bare chest, as if he could see the Sky rooted there, as if it ought to be apparent as soon as anyone looked at him. It felt like it should be. It felt so much a part of him that he could hardly imagine that people would be able to see him without instinctively knowing that he belonged to the Sky.

“….I guess.” He admitted, more reluctantly. “But – Rayla – my spells. You saw – I didn’t manage to make anything come out. Not even a little breeze. These – things,” he bit out the word with something close to vitriol, waving over his shoulder in an almost vicious motion, “They just….take all of it. There’s nothing left for me to use.” Hopelessness encroached again, with the certainty of loss. “I’ve lost it.” Without spells – he might be magical, but…he wasn’t a mage.

Rayla looked at him, worried, brow lightly furrowed. “Well, you’ve only tried one of your spells so far.” She pointed out. “Do you think it’ll make a difference which one you use?”

Hope sparked for a second, but he quelled it, not wanting it to gain too much ground. Still, though… “I don’t see why it would.” He said unhappily.

She sighed at him. “Don’t be so pessimistic. Just try it.”

He wavered, for a while, staring back at her in consternation. He didn’t want to try it, he realised. He didn’t want to try it…because what if fulminis failed, too? As long as he didn’t try, as long as he didn’t know for sure…he could pretend that he still had the magic he’d fought so hard for. The magic that felt right. But, the second he drew that rune, and nothing came out…he’d lose that.

It was like the not-quite-secret of Harrow’s death, in a way. Something he knew, but…wasn’t at all ready to face.

Except he had to, didn’t he? He had to know whether he could cast spells or not. He had to. He had to try it, even if now…even if he was pretty sure that the unwanted limbs on his back would steal all the magic out of it.

He exhaled, feeling the magic travelling on the breath. Magic was in him, still. Coming in on the breath, filtering through his lungs into his blood, travelling along the slow path on his bloodstream to the magic-stealing limbs…and that was the passive way they drew in magic, wasn’t it? They’d sort of been doing that yesterday, he thought – taking some of the magical overload that had been building in him. But yesterday, there hadn’t been any way for the rest of the magic to drain. It had just…built up, an overpressure threatening to burst him. Until he cast the spells, and…it was redirected, somehow.

Now, the redirection wasn’t necessary. The magic had made its own pathways, beyond the slow natural journey of magic to breath to blood. And so…any magic that came into him, drained almost instantly away. Gone so quickly that there was nothing left for his spells.

It’s not going to work, he thought to himself, with something like grief. A day, he’d had his victory. Just a day, or not all that much longer. For a day, he’d been a mage again.

Still, he raised his finger to the air. Because he had to know.

“Fulminis,” he said, softly, like waiting for an axe to fall, and watched the rune-light sparking where his finger trailed. His arcanum sparked with it, opening wide as if to welcome in the Sky-

Magic crashed into his body, stronger than he’d ever felt it, and – and there was so much, a flood of it, the Sky poured in and in and in and – and as he’d expected, the new pathways channelled it straight into his back, straight into the wide channels of magic that each limb represented-

-But.

But…not all of it.

His eyes widened, the delay between speaking the spell and its inevitable failure widening, widening, widening – the magic finished crashing in from the Sky, and for a second, for just a second, there was enough of it that – enough of it to-

He pulled at the feeling of it with fresh desperation, the magic hot and electric alongside his blood, and what little had been spared followed the path he offered in a single searing instant. A lightning-bolt, thin and frail but so wonderfully bright, split out into the air.

“….Stronger spells.” He breathed, into the aftermath, into the lengthening moments of stunned quiet that sat between him and Rayla and the Sky. “That’s…that’s what I needed. Stronger spells. So there’s still magic left over from what these stupid back-things take.”

Quietly, Rayla reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. When he looked at her, she was wearing a smile, small but genuine. “See, sad prince?” She said, nudging him with her shoulder. “It’ll be fine after all.”

Callum exhaled, the relief shaking him to the bone. “…Yeah.” He said, quietly. “Maybe it will.”

The new limbs might be bottomless magic-hungry pits, sure, but…even they seemed to have limits. Maybe, if he used stronger spells, or figured out a way to draw in more magic at once, or to somehow control where the magic actually went…he’d be able to cast normally again. Even with these things on his back.

I’m still a mage, he thought, with a relief so heady that it was exhausting.

Then: “Hate to rain on your moment of triumph,” Rayla started, apologetically. “But you might want to take a look at your back-things.”

He paused, abruptly aware of the increased sensation of weight on his back, pulling around his shoulder-blades. Abruptly aware of, suddenly, the way that something prickled.

“…Oh.” He said, faintly.

 ---

 In short order, they were examining his weird new limbs again.

“Arm out.” Rayla ordered him, and he complied wide-eyed as she pulled the left limb out by its longer finger to compare it to his outstretched arm. A very short while ago, it had been pretty much the same length, the tip of the longest clawed finger just about reaching the knuckles of his hand.

Now, it was almost a hand’s length longer, and already…it looked different.

The skin was a little thicker, a little less translucent. The veins beneath it weren’t so glaringly blue, and when Rayla pressed her fingers near the base of the whole thing, she claimed to find a strong and steady pulse there, as she would on the underside of his arm.

And, of course…the dark spot-things they’d both noticed had grown.

“They’re pressing through the skin now.” Rayla said, needlessly, as she’d pulled the limb around to demonstrate it to him. He could see quite well the way that the tiny dark spots had started growing outwards, like tiny rubbery spikes, almost translucent where they breached the skin. He pressed on one, gingerly, and found it smooth and cartilaginous. Behind them, a row more of dark spots had sprouted along the full length of both limbs, presumably to follow the progress of the first.

Rayla investigated the tiny row of spikes herself, following them along the edge of his back-arm to the elbow and then along to where the skin met his shoulder.

“There’s twenty-seven of these ones.” She reported, eyes narrowed on the foremost layer. “On both of them. Nine on the longest finger, nine on the wrist to elbow, and nine from the elbow to shoulder. Not sure about the rest.”

Callum tried to focus more on her words than the strangeness of watching her fingers on the rows of fine spikes. It was hard to pinpoint. Hard to identify. But…he could swear that he could almost feel the pressure of the spikes being pressed against the skin. He tapped the limb to check, and still didn’t feel that, but… “They’re so weird.” He said, helplessly, after a moment. “Are they – I mean….” He bit back any further words, mind whirling.

Too soon to tell, she’d said. But that was before. Was that still true?

“…What do you think they are?” He asked, eventually, when she failed to answer his poor attempts at articulating his thoughts. “The…limbs, I mean.”

Rayla didn’t answer that for a few seconds either, casting an indecipherable look over the limbs attached to his back. Still, though, she plainly heard the unspoken words, and knew what he was really asking. She poked at the tiny emerging nubby spikes, too, and he shivered. “…It’s not like I’m an expert in how wings work, you know.” She said, eventually, voice pensive, and the word wings set something in his gut to churning. “And I’ve not exactly seen a lot of winged toddlers around.” She hesitated. “I’ve seen baby birds, though. Their feathers, when they’re still growing…they look kind of like really long spikes, growing out of the skin, all in rows.” She trailed a finger along the line of emergent prickly nubs, pensive. “In rows like these, I guess, though you’ve only got two rows starting so far.”

He swallowed. “so…you think they are wings.”

She shrugged helplessly. “Either that, or you’re growing a set of weird spiky arms.”

Callum ran a careful finger over the tiny nubby spikes on the mysterious new limb, and felt words desert him.

Rayla noticed, and looked at him side-long from the corners of her eyes. “…You alright?” She asked, nudging him, and he exhaled.

“…I don’t know?” he expressed, conflicted, his maybe-wing still in his hand. She didn’t speak, just watched him, until he managed to find enough words to describe the mess of how he was feeling. “I just…don’t know. Like…it’s all happening so fast. A day ago – or maybe a little longer – I didn’t even have an arcanum, and now…” he pressed his thumb firmly into the flesh of the not-hand, and….and, he thought he felt something of it. Not a sense of touch as he was accustomed to, but a sense of pressure. “…Now, I might be growing wings.”

“Could still be spiky arms.” Rayla offered, in a plain attempt to be light-hearted. He couldn’t quite manage to smile at it, and she softened. “Well, at least wings are useful.” She said after a moment, as if trying to be reassuring. “If they’re anything like an elf’s, you should even be able to fly on them, once they’re done growing.”

He tried to think of the idea of flight. It couldn’t quite break through the numb shroud of shock of confusion that still hung over him, heavy and oppressive and bleak. “…I can’t even think about that right now.” He muttered, in the end. “I just – this is already…so much.” He raised a hand to his face as if to hide behind it, suddenly overcome in a way he couldn’t quite explain. It was just – so much. He’d not even adjusted to having magic, and then these things had started growing out of his back and they might be wings and he could hardly cast spells anymore and – and there was so much. What was he meant to think about any of it?

She regarded him for a few long moments, then took his hand. “It’ll work out.” She said, with a gentle smile. “Until then…” She squeezed his fingers, and nodded back to where Zym was still dozing in the morning light. “We’ve got a journey to make.”

The words were a breath of fresh air, in a way, and he laughed with dazed amusement. Because of course. He could gain an arcanum and have a pair of wings erupt bloodily from his body, but life went on. The war didn’t particularly care about his turmoil, and Zym still needed to get back to his mother. That, at least, hadn’t changed.

Rayla smiled a little more widely at him, as if sensing the near-calm the thought had brought him. Then she rose, pulling him up with her. “Come on.” She said. “Let’s wake up Zym, and get going. Lots of ground to cover today.”

As she said this, she looked out at the prevailing greenery with almost a hint of…excitement, or trepidation, or both. He would have asked, but she exhaled quick and fast, as though steeling herself, and pulled him determinedly off towards their things.

 ---

 In the end, Callum did not like the idea of travelling through Xadia shirtless, so they had to delay setting off for a while longer to sort out his clothing situation. Given the increasingly large new limbs on his back, this was something of a conundrum.

His undershirt wasn’t even an option now, given it only had a couple of buttons. That had been fine when they were getting it off of a distended back, but was less fine now, when they needed to work around two significant obstacles. He packed it away, mournful, and turned to his sleeveless red shirt.

First they tried just putting it on as normal, essentially strapping the probably-wings to his back. This seemed like it might be successful, up until the right one twitched and the first claw poked cheerfully through the fabric of his poor shirt. “Okay, so much for Plan A.” Rayla said ruefully, as she peeled the shirt off him again to show him the hole.

He made a face at it. “Yeah, let’s…try not to actually wreck my clothes.” He said, with visions of entire clawed fingers breaking through his formerly-nice attire. “It’s not like I have a lot of them. So, er…” He frowned. “What else can we try?”

Dubious, they made a half-hearted attempt at a Plan B, which involved putting his new limbs through the shirt arm-holes, essentially putting the thing on backwards and buttoning it at his back. This let the new limbs hang out unrestrained, but left his arms pinned to his torso, which was decidedly not ideal. Rayla got a couple of chuckles out of that one, at least, so it wasn’t entirely a wasted effort.

“Okay, so maybe let’s not sacrifice your arms to the cause.” She said, lips still twitching as she removed the shirt yet again, considering. As she held it up, he was momentarily struck again by the commonality in colour between it and the scarf she still wore. He hadn’t thought she’d be keeping it, when she took it to distract Sol Regem, but with all the trouble they’d had with the Sky magic and his new back-limbs since then…well, she’d apparently forgotten to give it back. It sat well enough around her neck that he couldn’t quite make himself ask for it back. He smiled at her, gut fluttering in a not unpleasant way, and then belatedly remembered to focus on what she was saying. “But you know, I think we might be onto something, with putting it on backwards.”

He eyed it, and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” He folded his arms, sceptical, and experienced a brief moment of disorientation at the fresh reminder of how shirtless he was. It was so awkward to be so unclothed, especially outside, especially in the open, and especially in front of Rayla.

“Trust me.” Rayla insisted, seemingly oblivious to his renewed discomfort at parading around in front of her shirtless, and he sighed. Sensing his capitulation, she flashed him a smile and ordered “Arms out!”

Obligingly, he followed her directives, and she pulled his arms through his sleeves…again, with the shirt on back-to-front. He couldn’t see what she did next, but he could infer from the shifting of the weight of his new limbs that she was moving them around, and then…a little of the cool air on his lower back eased off, as buttons were fastened into place along his back.

He blinked, and turned his head over his shoulder to try to see what she was doing. “Oh,” He said, surprised. “I should have thought of that.”

It was a decidedly awkward solution, but…a reasonably workable one. She’d buttoned his shirt up to where the limbs emerged at his upper back, and then insistently pulled his collar and upper two buttons closed at the top. It left a gaping diamond of skin of his upper back exposed, with the still-translucent skin of the prone limbs hanging down over his back, but…

“…That could work.” He decided, surprised, and adjusted his shirt as best he could to make it sit a bit more nicely. Even if Rayla had managed to actually get it on him, it wasn’t exactly comfortable to wear it back to front, and not even fully buttoned. He reached behind him and tried to smooth down the line of fabric that kept the buttons mostly invisible. “…Are you sure there’s no way to tuck these in, though?”

He didn’t need to specify what ‘these’ were. Rayla considered it, then went rummaging in his bag again. After a moment, she extracted the black cloak she’d used for her Human Rayla impressions, and he shivered a little at the sight of it. In his weird dark magic dream-quest thing, his other self had been wearing that. But…he supposed he couldn’t fault the utility. “This alright?” She questioned, apparently noticing his hesitation.

“…Yeah, that’s fine.” He said, determinedly, and she slung it over his shoulders. It couldn’t disguise the pronounced lumps on his back, maybe, but at least he wouldn’t be walking around with them looking all exposed and fleshy and flappy.

He took a step, and immediately proved himself wrong; the wings swayed limply and swung briefly out of the cover of the cloak, jarringly pale and alien to look at. He sighed.

Rayla winced, and folded her arms. “Well, then….” She trailed off, frowning, as she tried very hard to figure out some way to stop his wing-arms dangling and flapping every-which-way as he walked. “Well. I think…you’re either going to have to carry them over your elbows or something, or…”

“Or…?” he prompted, leadingly, when she didn’t continue. She was staring at his back, brow furrowed.

“Or, we use your jacket to tie your wings down?” She suggested, after a moment. Needless to say, they’d not even tried to get the jacket on him, when the shirt alone had been so much trouble. He still felt a little strange and exposed without it, thoroughly unused to being all in red again, and to having his arms all exposed. It was strange to look down at his arm without seeing blue. But…well, the jacket might manage as an improvised restraint or sling of some sort, he supposed.

He sighed. “Well, at least that way I don’t have to carry it.” He said philosophically, and Rayla went around to enact the plan.

It was not especially elegant, but she did tie the wings to his back, the sleeves of his jacket tied around his front, and the hand-joint of each appendage hanging over the jacket-rim at his back. He put the cloak back over the whole mess, and walked in an experimental circle.

“You can see the lump under the cloak moving a bit, but at least you’re not flapping everywhere.” Rayla reported, almost satisfied. “It’ll do. Finally!”

He observed her familiar sort of impatience with a weary air. “Time to get moving?” He asked, and hefted his bag. He’d never been grateful for it only having one strap yet, given that tended to lead to one very sore shoulder, but in this case….in this case, it being a single-strap bag meant he could actually wear it. Carefully, he slung the strap of his backpack over the other shoulder, and straightened.

Rayla nodded, briskly, and ducked to the side to pick up Zym and thrust him into his arms. “Time to get moving.” She agreed, and ushered them onwards towards the distant forest.

 ---

 Zym, when they woke him up, had proven exceptionally astonished by the growth on Callum’s back.

That astonishment had not subsided significantly since.

Callum sighed and bent his neck forwards as Zym, yet again, slung himself around his shoulders as though acting as a blue draconian replacement for his scarf. A blue, unusually active scarf. A scarf that kept sticking his nose down the collar of the cloak to nose at his new set of shoulders, and therefore, not really anything like a scarf at all.

“Zym.” He complained, without any particular animus, at the warm feeling of dragon-breath whuffling down his back, where a diamond of skin was still exposed. “Do you have to keep doing that?”

The dragonling surfaced briefly to croon insistently at him, and then promptly buried his face under the cloak again.

A moment later, he reached out with a paw to bat and prod curiously at the new limbs there, the backs of his own wing-fingers poking Callum in the back of the head. He tried to turn to look at him, and promptly took a dragon-tail to the face. Raya, pitiless, snickered at him behind her hand. “He’s really fascinated with them.” She remarked, all cheer and light-heartedness, which was all well and good for her, but she didn’t have a young and very curious dragon messing with her.

“It’s just wings, Zym.” He said, exasperated, over his shoulder. “Well, probably wings. You’ve got them too, you know.”

Zym determinedly ignored him, and batted at one of his wing-claws. Callum winced, and – well, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Zym was delightedly investigating the new appendages with all the brazen curiosity of a young child, and Callum…

…Callum could feel it. He thought. Probably.

It was inconsistent and weird-feeling and not-all-there, but….

He’d felt that tug, a painful shove of a joint in a direction it wasn’t supposed to go. He’d felt the draconian snout nosing at the skin, albeit in a rush of half-numb half-prickling trickles that didn’t feel anything like normal skin should do. And, increasingly, there was this sense of…pervasive numbness. He hadn’t quite realised it before, but numbness was in itself a sensation, and before now…well, he’d not even had that.

But now, he thought, the wings felt numb. Heavy and ungainly and weird-feeling, like a leg you’d been sitting on for so long it had lost all feeling.

When he shifted, he thought he could feel the pressure of the jacket-tie around his wing-hands.

There was still absolutely nothing he could do about the twitching, though.

Callum winced as Zym – again – pulled one of the wing-fingers in a direction it did not like, and the whole set of digits jerked and flexed in response, sending the dragonling yelping back and up. He craned his neck to see around his shoulder, and surmised that Zym had gotten himself poked up a nostril by one of the wing-claws. He sighed, and coaxed the dragon off of his shoulders and into his arms. “Sorry, Zym, I didn’t mean to jab you.” He said to the little Dragon Prince, who suddenly looked pitifully betrayed. “I can’t control what they do, so…be careful, alright?”

Zym chirped at him, a little grumpily, reminding him uncannily of Ezran when he’d been told to keep his fingers out of some animal den or other. For a long, painful second, Callum fiercely missed his brother. Then he pushed it to the side with all the other stuff he didn’t have the time or wherewithal to deal with.

Luckily, it wasn’t long after that that they reached the edge of the towering Xadian forest, and then…well, then, he had plenty of things to distract him.

 ---

 “These trees are gigantic!” He exclaimed to Rayla, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, as they passed between the towering tree trunks. The ones at the forest-edge weren’t that large, but he could see the way ahead; before them, the forest canopy towered so far overhead that he thought the trees would happily outsize the castles of Katolis, the uppermost leaves so far away that the light came down yellow-green and verdant, flickering over the ground. “This is amazing,” He breathed, a minute or so later, when he began to see the glowing mushrooms and colourful plants and luminescent motes in the air-

She smiled at him, tolerant, and patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, Callum.” She said, fondly. “If a few little trees get you excited, you’re going to have to raise your standards.”

“My standards are fine, thank you, have you seen this place?” He said, staring around every-which-way until he pulled something in his neck trying to look too far upwards. He winced, rubbed at the sore muscle, and then focused his attention on the middle-distance.

Ahead, the forest floor erupted into a twisting mass of tree roots thicker than most houses, each of them wreathed in ferns and mushrooms. There were beds of strange flowers everywhere, lines of strange mushrooms along every root and bough, everything was sheathed in thick moss or lichens or some sort of life, and – and he had no idea where to look. It was amazing. It was all amazing.

“I did grow up here, Callum.” She informed him, lips twitching, and led him up onto one of the arching roots. “Though I wasn’t exactly here-here much, since my hometown is down over a cliff, and it’s hard to get up here.”

He eyed her, fascinated, and realised she’d hardly spoken about her origins at all before. “….So, how are we going to get down there?” he asked, then paused. “If we’re going down there. Or are we…not going there?” He couldn’t imagine bypassing Katolis if it happened to be in his way, but, well…maybe there was a reason Rayla had never talked about home? Maybe she didn’t really want to go back?

His thoughts had about a second to start speculating wildly before she rolled her eyes and smiled. “I’m taking you home.” She decreed, with such easy certainty and cheer that all thoughts of her possibly having an unpleasant home situation vanished instantly. “So yes, we’re going down off the cliff.”

Callum squinted, a little wary at the hint of mischief in her smile. “….How?”

Her smile widened. “You’ll see.” She said, secretive, and reached out to pull him by the hand towards the nearby arch of another root. “It’s not far now.”

He shrugged, too fascinated by their surroundings to want to press the issue, and let her lead him onwards.

 ---

 He was distracted enough by all the plants, mushrooms, magic dirt, three-tailed squirrels, weird birds, musical flowers, and foul-smelling flowers that he almost forgot the issue of the stupid unasked-for probably-wings growing on his back.

Almost.

In the end, it was hard not to notice things that felt increasingly numb and prickly on your back, especially when they twitched and flexed and moved­ without your say-so, and especially when you started to be able to feel the sensation of that movement in how the numbness and the tingling shifted. He reached over at one point to poke at the skin on a wing-shoulder, once, and was almost alarmed at how…sort-of-normal it felt. Prickly, yeah, like a dead leg, but…

He could feel it.

Callum did not tell Rayla about the rapidly-developing sensation in his wings. He didn’t need to, in the end. They stopped for a rest in the verdant tree-shadows of the ancient forest, and quite matter-of-fact, Rayla pulled his cloak over his shoulder so she could have a look at his wings.

“They’ve grown. The spikes, too.” She announced, to no one’s surprise, and then reached over to untie his jacket-sleeves.

The jacket fell away.

The wings…didn’t.

For a second, Callum was as astonished at the sensation of the still-folded limbs as Rayla was to look at them. Then she whirled to face him, demanding “Are you making them do that? Can you move them now?”

“What? No, I can’t move them at all!” He protested, and…well, he tried again, just to make sure he wasn’t lying. But it…it was like there was nothing to move. He could feel them there, maybe, all heavy and numb and prickling, but he felt no more able to move them than the skin on his body. He tried to describe this sensation to Rayla, and she listened intently, tilting her head.

“Kind of like ears, then.” She concluded, to which he responded with a very sceptical stare.

“How is it like ears?” he wondered, furrowing his brows at her, and she blinked.

“You know, they kind of move on their own, and you can feel it but not really control it?” She offered, and he stared.

“Human ears don’t do that, Rayla.” He informed her, thinking of the times he’d seen her ears shift in a new light. “I mean, I think. Not that I’ve noticed?”

“…Huh.” She stared at him, a little nonplussed. “I did think your ears were weirdly still, but I didn’t realise they don’t move at all.” She inspected something at the side of his face for a few long seconds, presumably his round human ears, and then concluded “Humans are weird.”

“Weird for having not-moving ears?” He asked, and she nodded firmly.

“Very weird.” She agreed. “Point is though, Callum, you can sort of learn to move your ears by focusing extra-hard on what it feels like when they move. Like this,” She concentrated for a second, and her ears twitched noticeably up and down a few times. “See?” Her face fell, then. “But, I guess if you can’t actually feel them moving…”

He shuffled in place, almost guiltily. “I kind of can now.” He admitted, and she straightened, eyes widening. “Sort of? It mostly feels….numb and prickly. Like a leg you sat on too long, you know? But…” he shrugged, and felt the wing-shoulders shrugging along, as if to reinforce the point. “I’m starting to feel them.”

Rayla stared wide-eyed for around two more seconds, then leaned slowly forwards with a finger outstretched.

She poked him on the left wing-shoulder, firmly. “Did you feel that?” She demanded, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Yes.”

She moved her hand. “What about that?”

He blinked. “No? What did you do?”

“Touched the…wing under-arm? But lightly.” She pursed her lips, pensive, and the rest of their break turned into Rayla finding different ways to test the developing sensitivity of his wings.

In the end, it turned out he could feel pressure, temperature, moderately-light touch, and also could feel the first layer of protruding barb-things – now a good couple inches in length – pulling at something unsettlingly deep in the flesh. Like they went all the way to the bone. Light touch was still beyond him, though, and everything he could feel came across in varying degrees of numbness, prickling, and tingling. The closest to normality was the wing-shoulders, which only felt slightly weird when poked.

“Maybe it’s spreading outwards.” Rayla suggested, when she’d run out of ways to poke him. “And your wing-skin will start feeling more normal further and further out from the shoulders.”

“…Maybe.” He said, dubiously, and looked at her for a long moment. There was something strange, he thought, about how oddly fixated she was on this, on testing the range of sensation, on figuring out how his wings worked. She seemed almost more interested in them than he was.

Should he be more interested in them? …It felt like he should. Probably. He tried to imagine meeting someone else with developing wings, who was also a friend who wouldn’t mind being poked. He’d want to know all about those, wouldn’t he? How the joints bent and folded, and how they felt, and how everything lined up. If it had been Rayla unexpectedly growing wings, he’d want to know everything about them, right? He should probably be more interested in his own wings than he was. Instead, he was just…oddly blank-feeling on the whole matter, in a weird and distant way that implied he probably wasn’t dealing with the whole thing as well as he could be.

“Why are you so interested in them?” He asked, after a pause, to distract himself from his own thoughts. His earlier thought reiterated itself anyway: if it had been Rayla unexpectedly growing wings, he’d want to know all about them…

She seemed a little taken-aback at the question, and then frowned a little, as if seriously considering it. “I guess I have been asking a lot of questions, haven’t I?” She said eventually, with a troubled glance over his shoulders.

“Usually it’s me who’s the curious one, right? Kind of a turnaround.” He said, with a teasing smile, and she huffed at him.

“You’re still the curious one, trust me.” She said, dryly. “If I let you, you’d stay in this forest looking at dirt for the next three years, probably.” Well. That was probably fair. “But, I suppose, to answer your question…” She frowned again. “I don’t know. I think – they’re just…growing so fast. It feels like every time I turn around they’ve changed, and it’s…” She searched for a word.

“…Scary?” he suggested, because that was about how he felt about it.

She side-eyed him narrowly, and he recalled that she (and Moonshadow elves in general) had a Thing about admitting to fear. “…I suppose.” She admitted, begrudgingly, and shot his wings an indecipherable look.

He considered them himself, gut churning uncomfortably, and nodded. It made a certain sort of sense. She was coping with the anxiety of having two limbs grow violently from his back by keeping on top of absolutely everything that changed with them, and he…he was doing his best not to think about any of it at all. Especially how much they were changing.

Still. They were a little less unsettling to have, now that he could feel them. A little less like horrifying parasites growing out of his body, and a little more like…he couldn’t really say a part of him, not yet, maybe not ever. They were too…weird. Too frightening. Too expected and uninvited and jarring. But they at least had some level of sensation now, and that was…better, in some way that was hard to properly put to words.

As if to purposefully disrupt the vague positivity of that thought, the left one flexed out fully on his back, all three digits stretching, and then folded inwards again. He grimaced, both at the movement he had no control over and the rush of numb tingling that the movement sent through the wing. The hand-joint and its constituent fingers flexed on the right.

“Ugh.” He muttered to himself, stomach roiling, and shook his head. “Can we keep moving now?” he asked Rayla, and she looked at him. Her brows furrowed, eyes worried, and then she reached out to replace his cloak. The jacket-tie didn’t seem as necessary now that the things were holding themselves up. Her fingers lingered around his shoulders, arranging the cloak over his collar, and for a second, he vividly recalled how he’d adjusted his scarf on her before she went to trick Sol Regem. It felt similar. He stared at her for a long moment, feeling oddly bashful when she looked up to meet his eyes.

She still was wearing his scarf, wasn’t she?

Unbidden, he found himself reaching out, a strange gesture of reciprocity, and shifting the scarf around her neck. Just adjusting it a little, so it sat properly. It still looked good on her.

When he looked back up at her, her cheeks were a little pink. “…Didn’t you want this back, at some point?” She asked, after a moment, fingers moving to play with the scarf-tail. The way she looked at him was oddly hesitant, for her.

…Would it be weird to tell her to keep it? It was his scarf, after all. He’d had it for a long time. He…didn’t especially feel its loss, though. And…it made him oddly happy to see it on her.

“…Well, it’s your good luck charm, right?” he said, after a moment, cheeks strangely hot. “Maybe you should hold onto it for a while.”

That wasn’t giving it to her, right? That wasn’t weird? That was…a normal best friend thing to do?

She ducked her head, suppressing a smile. Her fingers wrung the end of the scarf a little more firmly, and though she was still looking away, she looked pleased. “…Thanks.” She said, in the end, and her eyes flickered up to meet his, just for a moment. “I think I will.”

That moment of eye contact lingered, stretching into something that felt as strange and charged as the first time he’d adjusted the scarf on her.

And then it ended, and she stepped away. “Best get going now, then, if we want to get to the cliff soon.” She announced, and whirled away to stride up along another root.

He blinked after her, wondering why his heartbeat felt so strange, and then ushered Zym along beside him.

He supposed he was curious to see what she had planned for this cliff-descent of hers, so…

Quiet, with the wings tucked tight against his back, he followed her through the forest.

 ---

End chapter.

 Notes: The response to chapter 1 of this was surprising, to say the least. I suppose I’ll not underestimate the power of new-season-hype in the future. Glad Boundless has pleased so many of you; thanks for reading!

On ears: Callum and Rayla are kind of mistaken, in that human ears can move on their own. That’s how I learned to move mine – I felt them moving and learned to control the sensation of those muscles in use. Still, I don’t think it’s exactly common.

On the wings: hopefully this chapter clarifies things with regards to what kind of wings he’s growing. If you want to spoil yourself, check the boundless tag on my blog. You’ll find a reference image for the fully-developed wings that I drew around a month before s3 hit.

Future updates: We have now reached the end of pre-written Boundless content. The next update will correspondingly take a much longer time to come out. I have written more Boundless, but it feels more like chapter 4 than 3, so could be a while until this updates.

In the meantime, please do check out my other tdp fanfiction, Peace Is A Journey, which has been my top writing priority for like seven months now. It has now been updated to accommodate s3 context and information, and I’ll be working on finishing and publishing chapter 11 as soon as possible – which, for reference, I expect to be around 20k long. That story is a beast.

[silver9mm]

so uhhh a little late but do you think you could talk to us a little more about the hypothetical demon? i read a hypothetical lizard because of your post and i’m a fan of body horror, and. wow.

OoOOo HELLO sorry for the late? reply bc tumblr doesn’t notify anyone of anything anymore!!! I’m so excited you read THL!!!! i have to recommend all of Alan Moore at this point, dude’s hecka wizard. Promethea, The Watchmen, V for Vendetta, From Hell and oh shit he’s a Scorpio, no wonder i want him to choke me to death :) ANYWAY

so since you’ve read THL, in my version Som-Som will be Dean---renamed Jensen once the operations have been done. Book will be Kevin/Prophet, and Mistress Abaddon owns the place, and Mister Crowley who performs the bisection. Titanium and soft leather for “Jensen”, and schooling by all the other courtesan/slaves (Charlie, Rowena, Donna, Castiel, and the Banes’ will be there). Dean is 5 when brought to Abaddon by his father, and 9 when he’s changed and by the age of 19 he knows all the secrets of the demons he entertains: their true forms, their specialities, the names of their hated angelic counterparts, and most importantly, how they can be killed. Demons rule the planet, and Dean’s prison is far from the only one, the world living in chaos and fear the demons revel in, and since he can’t repeat what he knows and not many live through what was done to him, he’s in high demand and treated lavishly because of it.  Dean wasn’t supposed to see his father again, but he does, because so few pay him any mind, crippled and speaking only nonsense as he does, so he was there when his father brought his younger brother to the tower just as Sam's hitting puberty, and Sam’s name is changed to Tristan and Mister Crowley is given the task of encouraging the change the boys father was disgusted by and afraid of. I love the description of Rawraw-chin in the THL ((i have been typing out THL as a practice to get the feel of the story, changing names and details and I go, but it will be all rewritten later)) ((from the book, words changed by me)) “The common bond shared by all those who admired this charisma within Tristan was that none of them could precisely identify it. It remained a mystery, concealed somewhere within the oddly disparate components of Her broad and starkly decorated face, hovering at some imaginary point of focus between Her hasty pencil-line of a mouth and Her widely-spaced eyes, overwhelmingly tangible, eternally ungraspable. Jensen, one of two people within the Tower who came to know Tristan closely, had always been inclined to the belief that Her charms originated in the emotional depths of the nervous and hesitant lad Herself, rather than in some fluke of physique or physiognomy. There was a restless melancholy that seemed to inform everything from the boy’s stance to the way She brushed Her hair, long and soft, so many different colours one could never tell if it was the colour of chocolate or the gold of sun rays or red like an arterial spray. There was also the occasional icicle glitter of fear in those eyes that had too great a distance between them for prettiness but just enough for beauty.” WOOO love that, so Sam <3 So Dean recognises his father which makes the boy his little brother, an infant at the time Dean was sold. Sam knows he had a brother, knows he’s out there in one of the many demonic brothels, but doesn’t know it’s Dean right in front of him, half-paralyzed, -blinded and -deaf, but as they spend time together, Sam/Tristan begins to tell Dean of his plot to escape and find his brother. Tristan has a special visitor, the angel Gadreel, who is a liaison between the demons on this planet and the angels in their spheres. There was a war on another world that brought them all here, but the demons hit the ground first and the angels don’t want to destroy the planet bc of the humans already there, but they are pretty inept at stopping the demons from slowly destroying humanity anyway. There are some angels who think the war could be ended, and Gadreel is their representative.

Since the chance of me actually getting the time to write this is pretty fucking slim, **spoiler alert** Gadreel knows about this “Jensen” and that he is privy to the aforementioned demonic secrets, and his actual mission is to rescue Dean and heal him and learn how to destroy the demons once and for all but there’s a catch YOU GUESSED IT 

everyone is kept in control by the chance there’s someone listening. Gadreel’s plot could be foiled if he’s not extra careful about what he says, where and to whom. He notices Tristan and Jensen spend a lot of time together, so he makes an effort to befriend Tristan to eventually gain access to Jensen, who is “for demons only”. Tristan has long since learned that the hypothetical listeners definitely aren’t in Jensen’s room, why would they be? He can’t fucking say or write or act out anything worth communicating... So Tristan begins to tell Dean his own plans, what he’s learning from Mister Crowley, namely how to possess someone else’s body. 

If he can take over Gadreel’s body, he can escape and find his brother. He can use the angel’s power to heal Dean and protect them from the demons.

And there’s the conflict. Sam, with good intentions, is going to destroy the one actual chance the world might have of being free of the demons if he possesses Gadreel, and Dean learns through pillow-talk with other demons (who maybe ARE listening in Jensen’s room;), that what Sam’s doing will make him into a demon himself, and Dean knows he won’t want to save anyone at that point. 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 233: At Least He Has Some Spares

Previously on BnHA: Twice made a duplicate League of Villains to take on Re-Destro. Re-Destro took this in stride and very calmly inflated his left fucking arm and slapped the whole lot of them so hard that most of them literally died. But the clone Shigaraki survived somehow and scuffled with RD for a bit while RD told him the story of how his great-great-granddad was born with a quirk and his mom was like “please be kind to my baby” and society was like “nah” and then they killed her too just for good measure. Anyway so this was of course the original Destro’s Origin Story, and his mother later on became a kind of martyr figure once society began rethinking their whole outlook on the whole superpower thing, and they even borrowed the term “quirk” from her as a way of trying to honor her I guess. But Destro and his descendants weren’t happy with the fact that quirks are still regulated and ~suppressed~ and blah blah blah, so I guess in RD’s mind this gives him justification to be a massive dick and wantonly murder people left and right. It’s all very political and complicated. Anyway, so in the end the Actual Tomura came over to RD’s tower and used his quirk and the tower came crumbling down, and now Tomura and Re-Destro are gonna fight.

Today on BnHA: We jump around Deika City getting updates on the rest of the League. Twice is currently trying to save Toga while Skeptic sneaks up on them both. Spinner is duking it out with Hanabata and his squad of Dudes With Spikes All Over Them And Stuff. We learn that Spinner’s quirk really is just “Lizard Quirk. That’s It. That’s The Quirk”, which, fine, whatever then. Dabi and Blue Bunny and Compress are off somewhere, presumably. Slidin’ Go is directing traffic and about to be flattened by Gigantomachia (or so we can hope). Giran is running off with one of the clone Twices (“running off” as in to safety, as opposed to them getting married or something. although). And Tomura is having his hand ripped off by a Hulkified Re-Destro and his newly revealed Stress quirk! Just, plucked right the fuck off, like a flower petal. It’s pretty horrific! And meanwhile Horikoshi is dipping out to go take an honestly well-deserved vacation, so there won’t be a new chapter next week. So basically just good news all around. Anyhow, so Tomura seems to have his hands full here and it may be time for him to hand in the towel and hand things off to Machia before things get out of hand even more well anyways enjoy the chapter guys.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so once again I got an Intriguing Anonymous Ask, but I only skimmed it because it seemed to delve into some of the details of the chapter, albeit in a very vague way that probably didn’t actually reveal anything. but one thing I did pick up on was that there may possibly be a break after this week’s chapter? if so I will cry but then I’ll get over it I GUESS

(ETA: well enjoy your hiatus then Horikoshi you knave.)

anyway so let’s get into it

quick observation before I actually start reading the chapter itself -- so apparently the title is “Bright Future”? correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought we already had a chapter with that same title though. chapter 161, also known as the Nighteye Fucking Dies chapter. is the kanji slightly different or something, perhaps? if not that is odd

(ETA: so after reading the chapter, serious question: is this Horikoshi’s idea of a joke, or. ...

but yeah, the kanji is different. or rather, this chapter’s title isn’t written in kanji at all, but in katakana, whereas 161 was written in kanji like normal. as for the why of it, though, your guess is as good as mine. right now “mangaka has a fucked-up sense of humor” is basically at the top of my reasons list.)

anyways, clicking to the actual chapter now, and... oh wow

okay I think I mentioned the movie The Island a few recaps back, and my sincere apologies to everyone for making repeated references to a typically dumb and explosion-y Michael Bay movie where Ewan McGregor tries and fails to speak in an American accent and everything explodes for no reason and the protagonists cause so much collateral damage while being hunted down by the bad guys that you almost start to wonder if it wouldn’t actually be better for everyone if they did just die. but anyway, so I’m sorry to keep coming back to this movie, but -- and spoiler alert for a 14-year-old Michael Bay film you guys -- the plot is basically that scientists figured out how to clone people, and so Rich People immediately proceeded to make clones of themselves to keep for spare parts so that if they ever needed organ donors or the like, they’d have a perfect match available

and anyway, so you can see the connection here, right? basically this is a super-pragmatic application of Twice’s quirk, and I have to applaud the logic and ingenuity, but also bro that’s kind of a fucked-up thing to do though, sob. let’s just make a spare Toga so we can immediately harvest her blood, oh boy. though in fairness it is Toga, so maybe she won’t mind since Harvesting Blood is like her thing

also can we take a moment to appreciate how thoroughly wrecked this Skeptic!Puppet!Twice is, though. the one that’s just lying there dead. like, his leg’s all bent the wrong way and he no longer has a face and I fucking can’t stop staring at it though. I feel better knowing that it wasn’t actually a real person because that’s seriously all kinds of fucked up

anyway now the Twice clones are arguing over who gets to measure Toga. and Horikoshi has honestly built up a lot of goodwill with me over the course of this Mineta-less arc filled with hot Girans and LoV character development, but all the same he’d better watch himself though, because all of that could be gone just like that in an instant if he tries to get cute! so don’t push it dude

(ETA: and not to harp on this or anything, but Twice did clone Toga back during the My Basement Academia arc (in chapter 147), so there wasn’t really a need for this scene to begin with. but whatever, he didn’t really go overboard at least.)

okay good, actual!Twice (? is he the real one?? he’s the only one without a mask and he’s not using his arms so I think it’s him, at any rate) is shouting at the others to get their shit together

Twice Status: Still Hot. wow, and barely two seconds after I made that remark about Horikoshi needing to focus up. should I take my own advice perhaps. eh

oh my god

nooooo now I’m actually really upset that one of them’s gonna get sacrificed for the other! noooo Toga

and now we’re getting additional background information on Twice’s quirk, specifically about the fact that his clones’ appearances and personalities/memories are based on the last time the clone target was measured and the last time Twice saw said target, respectively. makes sense. so anyway because of that the clone Toga is also all beat up

friendly reminder that Toga is only seventeen and still just a kid, albeit a freaky sort of horror movie-type kid. but anyway, so I’m feeling really fucking protective of her though, and I need them to hurry up and save her already!

oh my god

yes, Dabi is the poster boy for great plastic surgery results. staples left in and everything. then again I don’t know how bad off he looked before, though. we still don’t actually know what the original injury was, aside from it obviously having something to do with the whole “his quirk fucking burns him from the inside out” thing we recently learned. you know what might help with that, Horikoshi? a flashback, omg

yuh oh

gonna go out on a limb here and guess that this is Skeptic coming to fix his screw-up before Re-Destro snaps his neck like so many Mitsubishis. or whatever that damn mouse’s name was. Miyashita?? actually I think that was it lol

anyways so let’s now turn the page and confirm if it actually is Skeptic

...confirmed

also, holy shit. just, holy shit to everything. that freaky close-up of the puppets’ faces; that blobby image of one of the puppets being formed; Skeptic’s crazy eyes in the bottom panel; him screaming I HAVEN’T FAILED!!! over and over again, etcetera. just, everything. good lord

and now we’re cutting somewhere else. looks like it’s Spinner and a bunch of the clone Twices dealing with Hanabata’s over-inspired lackeys

Spinner what is your quirk

okay so as he’s fighting he’s doing that shounen thing where he uses his keen observational skills to come up with a strategy on the fly

yes, please feel free to take him out! he’s annoying and he hasn’t done anything interesting, so really he’s just dead weight as far as this arc goes. feel free to use your quirk, too, buddy. if you even have one, holy shit. Horikoshi’s probably keeping it safe in the same place as Kacchan’s hero name

anyway so now he’s fighting his way through the waves of redshirts and trying to reach Hanabata’s van

he’s thinking that his job is to “lighten Shigaraki’s burden, if only a little”

awww. League of Loyal Bastards. I can’t believe there was ever a question of you possibly betraying these guys, Spinner. I’m sorry for doubting you, guy

Hanabata seems worryingly unconcerned, though

who the hell wears their watch on their right hand? what time is it, Hanabata? it’s time for you to fucking die already that’s what

-- oh

so it’s some kind of Magic Quirk Watch then, eh. should have figured as much

also, “A MAN WITH A WEAK SUPERPOWER SUCH AS YOURSELF” oh? please do tell us more about this quirk! also how is it that you of all people know Spinner’s quirk. Giran’s intel, I guess? I’m suddenly really annoyed that the Liberation Army apparently knows more about the LoV than we do. bastards

anyway so now Hanabata’s own quirk is being revealed, so I guess let’s see what that’s all about

okay so this is exactly what we all thought it was based on what we’ve seen of him so far. so I guess this weird mask is basically just a big microphone thing. imagine if his and Mic’s quirks were combined

at any rate if it’s not clear, I really couldn’t give two farts about Hanabata or his quirk and I just want to see Spinner take him out, and then have Gigantomachia show up and save Toga and Twice, and see Tomura kick RD’s ass. oh and Dabi still needs to beat up Rita’s Italian Ice too, I guess

(ETA: okay but Horikoshi would it really be too much to ask for at least one of these things to actually happen oh my god. my poor villain children.)

-- OH MY GOD

EVERYONE SHUT UP SPINNER’S QUIRK IS FINALLY BEING REVEALED AHHHH

lmao was I too invested in this perhaps. all this time and all this mystery and it really does end up being some little lizard quirk that lets him cling to walls? and this is how it’s revealed of all ways? he doesn’t even get an official Quirk Reveal Box?

I mean, this can’t possibly be it. he’s gonna do something badass and unexpected, and then we’ll get his Quirk Box and we’ll all be like, “OH SHIT! SPINNER!” and so forth. right??

(ETA: I seriously can’t decide if this will actually be the case, or if this is another Sports Festival scenario where I’m firmly expecting the typical shounen thing and Horikoshi has something else planned entirely.)

wow

as opposed to you? your power is literally just “I can get stupid people all hyped up.” it’s probably given you an overinflated sense of your own importance, and I can’t wait for you to get one-upped by this lil lizard boy with his ninja turtles costume and the tactical knife he bought on Amazon

oh shit lol

so I guess that’s as good a way as any of syncing up all of this action to one timeline again

heh Hanabata’s panicking a bit

I’m enjoying this, ngl

oh shit!

this motherfucker really popped through a magic quirk hole in the wall and grabbed onto Spinner and suddenly got all spiny just like that oh shit

AHHH

SOMEONE HELP OUR BOY, HE’S BEING PORCUPINED BY FUCKING REDSHIRTS. WHAT IS THIS

now Hanabata’s directing all of the remaining cannon fodder to go and help Re-Destro. well at least that’ll get some of them off of Spinner’s back

YESSSSSSS

GET HIM SPINNER GO FOR THE JUGULAR!!

AHHH SPINNER FLASHBACKS YESSSSS, THE MY FLASHBACKS ACADEMIA ARC CONTINUES

I’ve suddenly been struck by the urgent need to go do my dishes from last night omg. Spinner would it kill you to take the fucking trash out at least

oh shit you guys he’s making a speech!

IT’S HAPPENNIIIIIIING. go, Spinner! speech! and then kick some ass! and then Quirk Reveal Box and “OH SHIT! SPINNER!” just like we planned!!

sob why am I empathizing with this guy who’s getting inspired by Stain and then by Tomura’s “let’s destroy everything! :)” rant of all things. what has this arc done to me. Spinner I can’t relate to you at all omg. but, just like every other member of the League of Villains, at your core you’re really just someone who was searching for a place to belong, and damned if that’s not the most quintessentially human struggle of all

so to sum, you sure picked some questionable role models there but I support you, kid

sure Horikoshi, go ahead and just fling Spinner’s super-weak and boring quirk in my fucking face then! lol okay I get it! it was never meant to be some big reveal to wow us all at a dramatic moment; the whole point is that he’s utterly unremarkable, and it doesn’t matter because despite what the MLA believes, quirks don’t define who a person is. all right, all right. that’s cool then

no you dingus he’s trying to say that even if he doesn’t have a big flashy quirk, y’all ain’t shit either and he’s still going to kick your ass

-- OH SHIT YOU GUYS!!

WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM TO ADVISE YOU ALL THAT OUR HANDSOME BOY GIRAN SURVIVED THE TOWER FALL AND IS FINE AND DANDY! and still handsome! so we all can rest easy now on that account, thank god

omg omg omg

Tomura VS Re-Destro hype intensifies!!

also lmao because I genuinely think he’s asking him for real because he can’t quite sort out reality from his sleep-deprived hallucinations right now

or maybe that shouldn’t be “lmao” on my part, because that’s actually a legitimately concerning thing, there. but I can’t help it guys, he’s so tired and fully and entirely out of fucks, and RD is so fucking screwed and doesn’t even know it and it’s going to be so goddamn satisfying I can’t fucking wait

anyways, no, Tomura. he was not. but he’s apparently got some sort of Hulk quirk. so you just do your best and you sic your own Hulk on him then if need be

yessss he’s talking trash, yes, Tomura!! you’re doing great!!

IT PROBABLY FEELS BAD! I BET! HAHAHA. SUCK IT

LOOK AT THIS YOU GUYS OMG

ranged attacks and everything, now! I wonder if he’s always had this sort of capability and we’ve just never seen it before, or if this is another new development. probably the latter. those six weeks of training really leveled him up

wow even his fucking shoes are disintegrating now

so GiranTwice are getting the fuck out of Dodge, and Giran’s right arm just sort of ends in this big mess of bandages omg

don’t worry Giran, Twice is gonna get Dabi’s plastic surgeon on the job. you will be fine

holy shit you guys would you look at this fucking shounen bullshit

I’m starting to get an inkling that this will be the kind of fight that’s going to look amazing in anime form, but will basically just be a lot of flying rocks and smashing panels in manga form. and I’m prepared for that if that is indeed the case! I have not forgotten what genre this actually is, and that this is still a manga where the main character’s attacks all end in “SMASH!!!”, and every so often we get to a point where the characters who are at the center of the current conflict just have to punch it out. so I’m not going to complain

but I do hope that won’t be all there is to this, though. and ngl, I have higher expectations for BnHA’s fights than for any other manga’s fights, and I’m still expecting a few twists here

(ETA: oh lord I should just learn to keep my fucking mouth shut.)

oh shit

poor Spinner. fucking Re-Destro gets a Quirk Reveal Box before he does

also it does seem to be a Hulk quirk then, huh. so it’s safe to say that once Gigantomachia shows up and they hash things out, there won’t really be a town here afterwards. like, this entire city is about to be straight up wiped off the map. that’s lowkey terrifying to think about

-- HEY WHAT THE

(ETA: sob he looks so shocked. that’s right Tomura, it’s the hard knocks path to redemption for you too, buddy boy. probably when you go talk to Ujiko to get it patched up after the arc is over it’ll trigger some more character development somehow. just, my point is that you are an important character in a shounen manga, and so, unlike people in real life, you at least can be somewhat assured that your pain is probably happening for a reason.)

fuckING -- IS THAT REALLY -- DID THEY JUST

DID THIS MOTHERFUCKING INKBLOT HULK MAN REALLY JUST PINCH MY BOY’S HANDS BETWEEN HIS GIANT THUMB AND INDEX FINGER AND JUST FUCKING PLUCK HIS FUCKING FINGERS OFF HOLY GODDAMN FUCK

DID HE DO THAT TO GIRAN. IS THAT WHAT HE FUCKING DID TO GIRAN I’M ABOUT TO FUCKING -- I CAN’T --

IS THIS FUCKING ATTACK ON TITAN, GODDAMN!? WHAT THE WHY

THERE REALLY IS A HIATUS SOB I CAN’T. I HOPE HE HAS A GOOD TIME ON HIS VACATION OR WHATEVER, THEN!! BE THAT WAY! I KNOW YOU’RE A HUMAN BEING AND ENTITLED TO TAKE SOME TIME OFF AND GET SOME GODDAMN SLEEP AND GO TO CONVENTIONS OR WHATEVER, BUT I’M ALSO ONLY HUMAN, AND WHEN YOU TAKE MY WEEKLY FIX AWAY WITH NO PRIOR NOTICE, I’M GOING TO GET CRANKY ABOUT IT. I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY

GOD DAMN IT

fuck

sob. okay sorry guys, I’m done being dramatic now. so let’s go back and finish up those last four panels that I haven’t actually read yet orz

lol there already practically isn’t a town there anymore. Giganto you better hurry up and come finish it off. this asshole is out here playing the most vicious game of eenie meenie miney moe the world has ever seen with your boss’s hands and it’s very upsetting

who the fuck is this

lmao what. someone’s actually trying to visit the city? turn your van around, pal. we are closed for business for real here

and then our last two panels are Slidin’ Go being all punchable, and then getting shaken up by a sudden earthquake omg

I WONDER WHAT THAT COULD BE omg. :) :’D

well shit. so! 

a wild Gigantomachia approaches

Slidin’ Go is living on borrowed time presumably (good riddance)

Skeptic is trying to harass Twice again while he’s busy trying to save poor Toga’s life, like excuse you dude, no, please fuck off

Dabi is currently MIA and still fighting Dippin’ Dots while trying to keep his organs from getting any more roasted. maybe a flashback would help you there, Dabi. I don’t know how, but it couldn’t hurt, surely. I promise I have no ulterior motives in suggesting this

Spinner is trying to work out how to score a really satisfying victory to show us all that Quirks Aren’t Everything

Giran and his bandaged arm are running off to safety with Twice, which is the only thing that really matters in the end here

and Shigaraki Tomura has just had his own hand Luke Skywalkered in the manga’s latest and greatest instance of Cruelty Against Limbs. but at least this presumably means that he himself is about to get a hell of a lot hotter if Giran and Twice are anything to go by

so yeah. a lotta stuff going on. so really it’s the perfect time for a hiatus. lol

well, friends. I’ll see you all in two weeks I guess. hopefully someone will lend Tomura a hand. ba dum crash

[captainicequeen555]

Commentary for Svtfoe

My mind has gone wild, with all of that, especially the “cleaved” promo. There are a few thing i SOOOOOOOOO have to get out my chest.

SPOILER ALERT

The spell with no name

At the beggining i though it was a brand new kind of destructive spell that Eclipsa invented to mass murder lizards. Kind of reminded of the other one that HAD NO NAME At first i though that it must be her darkest spell of her chapter but NO, NOT the same, i personally translated it.

I don’t know why she would used it having that corrosing butterfly...Anyway, according to the poem, this one summons great darkness. Just as it says: 

“I call the darkness onto me from deppest dephts of earth and sea. From ancient evils unawoken break the one who can’t be broken, From blackest nights i pledge my soul and crush my heart to burning coal to summon forth a deadly power to see my hated foe devoured”

Whoa. Ominous. I see the other one is just destructive and powerfull. Eclipsa has an alternative that doesn’t corrupt her body, apparently, but it may not destroy septarians, and that’s why she had to invent her own super destructive one instead of using her momma’s...

Moon and her Solarian disaster

Even if she could undo her warriors, Mina was never her creation, so she would still be there with her power intact. And please, Moon, she would never stop the New Monster Massacre. You fool. You vengefull and resentfull fool. Just like Toffee but he did a better job at planning

Is just me or her magic has gotten darker?

Star’s plan

Sorry but i really don’t think i’ll work. It seems that that spell was made for killing a unicorn or disable a wand, not the magic itself. Wonder how Toffee did it in the first place...wasn’t his only devouring pressence/contact or something? How the heck did he turn into magic itself?

Speaking of the devil. SURPRISE!

Toffee was in the tapestry? Alive? 

I have the theory that those places are interlocked, hence Toffee is somewhat not gone, he was pure magic for corn’s sake. What if Star just makes Toffee reappear by creating the green goo again, and screws all?

[toothpastecanyon]

We Walk Like Humans Do, Chapter 1

The Transcendence has been, on the whole, a good thing for magical creatures... for the ones that walked on two legs and fit in doorways, at least. Lacie has other problems to overcome before she can live in the big city.

Inspired by @marshmellowextract‘s ideas on the TAU Discord.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

               The Transcendence has been, on the whole, a good thing for magical creatures. True, there’s been no shortage of misunderstandings and pro-nat sentiments over the years, but all those centuries of hiding away from humans had been just as harmful.

               Humans are everywhere, after all. Avoiding them means avoiding most places on Earth, holing yourself away in dwindling forests and as-of-yet unexplored cave systems. Some could pass as human and live in their cities, but pre-Transcendence accounts of disguised elves or vampires often spoke of the burden of carrying such an immense secret, the disconnect they felt with any humans they befriended. They could never truly live as themselves.

               For some magical creatures, the Transcendence changed that. The Transcendence let them live freely amongst the humans, let them attend their schools and work alongside them to better the world.

               For some magical creatures, the Transcendence was the single best thing that had ever happened to them.

               For others?

               Well… for the less humanoid ones, they didn’t notice so much of a difference. For Lacie, she was still hanging out in the same old sewers she’d been hatched in.

               After all, when you’re a giant basilisk several bus-lengths long and capable of killing a man with a single glance, there are more obstacles to living in the city than ‘not feeling like you can be true to yourself.’

________________________________________________________________

               A snore rumbles through the depths of London’s sewers. Deep, deep underground, somewhere in a maze of rank-smelling tunnels sloshing with wastewater, there lies a hidden door, and behind that door slumbers a vicious, terrible monster guarding a tome of forbidden knowledge.

               That’s how the treasure hunters always describe Lacie’s home on the forums, and honestly, she finds it a little insulting. They’ll go on and on about how much the place stinks and how loudly she snores; it’s like they expect her to fix it or something, and… no? This is a sewer, it’s going to smell bad. And she needs to sleep, so it’s going to be noisy, too.

               If they’re gonna come down here to try and slay her and steal her shit, the least they can do is stop being so goddamn whiny about it.

               Like, look at these bozos coming in now. Lacie was having such a peaceful nap until they started messing around with the hidden door.

               She cracks a tired eye open, and glares at the sound of their voices.

               “No, it’s this one!” A rock shudders on the wall. “Didn’t you read the riddle? You touch the symbols clockwise!”

               “How did you get clockwise from the riddle? It’s way more complicated than that; the cipher clearly states-”

               “A-B-C-D. Clockwise.”

               “No, that’s- ABCD? Where on earth did you get ABCD?”

               Lacie lets out a rumbling sigh. Incompetent treasure hunters, oh joy. She shifts a little bit on her pile of gold, and waits for them to bumble their way into a solution so she can go back to  sleep.

               “Look, I don’t know how you’re getting ABCD, so why don’t we try my way first, and if mine doesn’t work-”

               “It’s absolutely not going to work.”

               “It will! I took a class in cryptography once, I know how this works.”

               “Ooo, aren’t you special.”

               “Look, just let me work, will you?”

               “Do it fast. Ugh, it smells like death down here.”

               At least it’s more bearable than your voice, Lacie thinks. She snorts at her own joke before hooking her tail around a wooden sign and dragging it in closer. She’ll need this later - quite a while later, most likely, but it’s good to be prepared.

               “That didn’t work?”

               “Of course it didn’t work, you idiot. I’ll open it-”

               “Hey, wait, maybe I did that wrong! Let me try that again!”

               “No, you had your chance!”

               “Just let- hey, get off me!”

               “No, you get off me!”

               “Come on dude, just let me try-”

               After listening to the treasure hunters scuffle and shout at each other for what felt like forever, Lacie hears a click in the door’s opening mechanism. The whole thing starts to rumble and dust loosens from the ceiling as it opens inwards, revealing… well, she doesn’t look at them directly in case they’re dumb enough not to bring basilisk protection, but she makes out two human figures with rifle-shaped sticks, which they immediately point at her face.

               “There it is!” The first man ushers the other back. “Stay behind me!”

               “Stay behind you? Dude, I’m a way better shot.”

               “What? No way, you are not!”

               “I totally am. Don’t you remember back at the range-”

               Lacie lets out a hiss before they can get into another stupid argument. She points the end of her tail at the sign, and it takes them a second to notice.

               “It’s doing something weird.”

               “Quick, let’s shoot it!”

               “No, look, that’s a sign it’s holding!” The second guy peers at the message. “Says ‘Fighting not needed, can’t let you take the physical book but am posting all chapters online at https- wait, you have a website?”

               She nods. A blog, actually.

               “Don’t be stupid.” The other guy gives him a shove. “There’s no way it has a website; this is some sort of trick!”

               “Yeah… yeah, you’re right! Wait, how is it a trick?”

               “Obviously it’s to confuse us and distract us from getting the treasure!” He cocks his rifle. “We have to stay focused! Stay behind me, I’ll get this thing right between the eyes-”

               Lacie finally looks down at the guy. Their gazes meet, the guy’s eyes widen; he yelps and staggers back, dropping his rifle and slapping a hand over his face… but he doesn’t drop dead. A second later, he peeks out behind his fingers.

               “I’m… still alive!” He cackles. “These contact lenses really do work!” Ha! Take that, you dumb lizard!”

               The other guy high fives him. “Yeah, take that! Now let’s kill this thing!”

               Huh, they’re slightly more prepared than she thought. Lacie stares at his smug smile a moment longer, then swings her tail around and dashes both of them against the right wall.

               There are no contact lenses that protect against blunt force trauma. They let out short-lived screams, cut off as soon as their bodies crash against stone; there’s a chorus of splintering cracks, then silence as they crumple to the ground amongst a pile of other shattered skeletons.

               Lacie looks at them now. Listens to all the familiar noises that could be heard in the absence of their voices - the dull roar of running water, the drips that fall from the ceiling and splash in puddles, the tinkling of gold coins as she shifts her weight.

               All the things she could hear, now that they were dead.

               Does she feel bad?

               Eh… sort of.

               She feels... more frustrated than anything else, these days. It’s not like she doesn’t give them a chance to escape, and they are trying to kill her… but still. It’s such a senseless loss of life - especially for such young, stupid humans - and over what? Some useless book?

               She turns and glares at it now, sitting on its little lecturn at the far end of the room. Stupid thing.

               One day, she will be free of it.

               But for now, she’s tired. She lays her head on glittering gold, closes her eyes, and falls asleep to all the quiet, comforting sounds of her home.

               She probably starts snoring, too… fuck, they’ve made her self conscious about it.

________________________________________________________________

               Chapter 7 of Wizard Animago’s Not-So-Secret Spellbook - His Shitty Death Spells and Why They’re Not to Die For, Seriously

               Hey everyone, this is 18Lacie5 back with another chapter overview. I know it’s been a year since I last posted, sorry about that. I’m usually way too tired to work on one of these - the joys of being cold blooded in England. Annnnnyyyyywwwwaaaayyyy, here is the much-anticipated chapter on ol’ Animago’s secret death spells!

               Spoiler alert: it’s gonna disappoint you.

               Now, for anybody new reading this, Sironus Animago was a 19th century English wizard that specialised in the study of animal transmogrification. If you don’t know who he is, that’s because he was a recluse who hated humanity so much he spent half his life trying to turn himself into literally anything else. The only time anybody hears about him is generally in treasure hunting circles, concerning a riddle he left behind for ‘any man worthy enough to learn his secrets.’ It is said that he wrote a spellbook containing all the knowledge he had accumulated over his lifetime, and considered it so dangerous he bound a basilisk into guarding it after his passing.

               Well, I am that basilisk, and I’m here to tell you why Animago’s spellbook is stupid and absolutely not worth dying for.

               This chapter’s an easy one: his death spells suck. Even by pre-Transcendence standards, they suck. He wasn’t the slightest bit interested in offensive magic, and I’m pretty sure he threw these ones in here because hey, every spellbook’s gotta have a spooky scary dark magic section, right?

               Let’s examine the first spell of Chapter 7: ‘Planis fugere a mortalis huius’ (a moment of silence for that Latin.) So ‘fly away from this mortal plane(s?)’ sounds pretty and all, but it’s way too poetic to be a reliable spell. Unlike the standard modern equivalent, which is, you know, just ‘Die’, your magic’s gonna have to figure out a whole lot about this sentence before it puts it into action. Fly away, how? Where are they flying to? What could count as our ‘planis’ here? The ground?

               You see how easily this could result in something like giving your enemy a pair of wings instead of killing them. Great. That’s totally what you’d want to happen in battle, right?

               This issue would have come up immediately in testing, which leads me to believe it was a purely theoretical spell of Animago’s, and not a particularly good one (but hey, at least it’s original this time, right?) As with all of them it does come with the minorly unique addition of alternate pronounciations in five different animal forms, but again, unless you’re turning yourself into a chicken, a dog, a hawk, a bear or a snake on a regular basis, when are you ever going to need this?

               All in all, probably the worst chapter in the entire spellbook, with sloppy, overly complex incantations I’d toss away in a heartbeat if not for the fact that I’ve been bound into protecting them. Next post, we tackle chapter 11: turning your furniture into animals!

               (Because that’s what your couch is missing. Teeth and claws and an ability to run away from you.)

               Do s both a favour, and don’t make me kill you over these shitty spells.

               Curled around her favourite pile of gold, Lacie scrolls down her blog, reading its contents with drooping eyes. She uses her tail to move a laptop’s trackpad, which makes it a little difficult to navigate - the frustration she feels whenever the clicker shoots off in random directions is the main reason she’s still awake - but not as much as one might be expecting, as the laptop is not an ordinary laptop.

               It’s gigantic. The screen is bigger than her, and the top almost scratches against the ceiling. Carefully balanced above the wet stone on four smaller gold piles, the charging port is wired up to a truly massive, glowing purple power strip. It hums with magical energy, charging her laptop as she gets to the end of the blog post.

               ‘Do s both a favour ’... ah, typo. Lacie shoves her mouse in the general direction of the edit button for a few seconds before landing on it; now she clicks, adds a u, and struggles her way back to the main page.

               Fixed. That was totally worth the effort.

               She lets out a snort, which turns into a great big yawn and leaves her head resting on top of the laptop. The metal’s got some warmth to it; she feels that against her cheek, and almost immediately starts struggling to keep her eyes open.

               This was a mistake, she thinks. Come on, she literally just got up! She can’t go right back to sleep!

               Just a little more time… to herself… without any… any humans… she was supposed to... to...

               The distant whoosh of water overhead and the steady hum of the power strip lulls her closer and closer to sleep, and she tries one last time to lift up her eyelids-

               And plop.

               A little water droplet lands right in her eye, and she jumps. Rises up, blinks rapidly - first to get the blurriness out of her vision, then to get rid of the sleepiness already creeping its way back in.

               She shakes her head to clear it. Once she’s mostly awake again, she lets out a triumphant little puff of air: not today, sleep! Not when she’s got shit to do!

               With that, Lacie turns back to her laptop and mouses over to another tab, titled ‘List of Craig’ and next to it, ‘(1)’ for one new message.  She’s been waiting for that (1) to show up - hopefully she hasn’t taken too long to respond back.

               The tab opens after she jabs left click a couple times, revealing a short chatbox:

L at 20:25: [is that double length chalk shipment still available?]

M at 20:35: [yes]

L at 20:36: [would be very interested in buying that, are you are ok with teleswitch methods of payment? you don’t have to wheel it anywhere, just let me know where it is in the house]

               Fifteen whole minutes later at 20:51, there’s the much-anticipated reply:

               [k]

               Lacie reads this, and has a sudden urge to smack her head against the keyboard. With a growl rumbling in her throat, she gets typing

L at 20:52: [okay, where is the shipment in your house? what room? the spell i use needs this.]

               She sends it off… and waits, scowling at the chatbox.

               And waits...

               And waits...

               And is still waiting. Stars, maybe she could’ve taken a nap.

               Speaking of that, her eyelids are starting to droop again. She huffs and shakes her head in a couple quick, flicking movements; that jolts her back awake, and she clicks back to her blog page.

               The latest post on chapter 7 stares back at her. In the dim-lit room, it’s glaring down on her, almost accusingly.

               Next post, it reads, we tackle chapter 11: turning your furniture into animals!

Post updated: less than two minutes ago

Post uploaded: more than two years ago

               Lacie sighs. This is what happens now when she takes a nap.

               Years, they’ve begun to pass her by like nothing . All she remembers of the past two are groggy hazes, half-recalled dreams; the only times she’d wake would be to fend off the occasional treasure hunter, then back to her slumber she’d go, like that was her only purpose in life.

               It didn’t used to be this way. She didn’t used to feel so tired all the time. Why?

               ...She’s getting too big for her home. The magic that sustains her, it isn’t enough anymore.

               That’s got to be the explanation.

               Which means she’s got to get out of here. She’s got to break that damn binding that tethers her to the spellbook…

               Lacie shoots a look at it now. Glares at the stony grey lectern it rests on, and everything piled around the base of that. The wax candles. The incense burners. The unholy artefacts. The tomes upon tomes of academic research, summoning circle references, nonstandard incantation guides…

               She has to break it.

               By any means necessary.

               …

               She’s got a new message from the human.

M at 21:13: [I put it outside for you. Its in the back yard. Your welcome.]

               With an eyeroll, Lacie wraps her tail around the lectern’s pole and brings it in closer. The spellbook slides precariously around the surface it’s resting on, but with a bit of care she places it down in front of her without anything falling off the edges.

               Now, the book - she peers at it now.

               As always, it looks like a mess; its leather binding had been handmade by Wizard Animago himself, but only because the guy was too paranoid to have anybody else do it. He did a sloppy job, and over the centuries it had fallen to pieces until the only thing holding it together anymore was a couple remaining strings and a headache-inducing cocktail of protection charms.

               For Lacie, it’s tiny, making it incredibly hard to flip through. She can’t help but wonder if it had seemed this tiny the last time she’d opened it… maybe she’d grown a little bigger since then.

               Stuffing that thought down, she keeps flipping; past Chapter 2 on transfiguration, past Chapter 3 on general transmutation, Chapter 4 on alchemy… Chapter 5, there it is.

               And bingo bongo, there’s the spell she wants: ‘Sironus Animago’s Telekinetic Switch’... and Lacie can’t help but snort at that name, because it isn’t actually a spell he invented.

               Like many less-than-reputable wizards of his time, he had a habit of stealing spells from contemporaries in other fields of magic, slapping his name in front of them and trying to pass them off as his own to pad out the number of chapters in his spellbook.

               (The internet was a terrible invention for guys like him. Lacie had a lot of fun ripping into this practice when she wrote about Chapter 5.)

               Anyway, while she could find the original spell anywhere on the internet, there is something Animago added to every entry he wrote down in his book - that something is off to the far right, almost obscured by the yellowing and curling of the page.

               Here, next to five simple illustrations of a chicken, a dog, a hawk, a bear, and a snake, are the alternate pronounciations of the spell.

               Lacie squints at the last line - her mouth moves as she refamiliarises herself with the incantation - then she nods to herself, and scoops up a generous portion of gold coins, and closes her eyes.

               Pictures a backyard, with a crate full of summoning chalk, just waiting for her to pick them up.

               And with that in mind, she speaks.

               Not in words. Not in a language. She speaks in hisses and spits, in a string of meaningless noises that fit better in her mouth than any human tongue. At the end of it, though, that specific arrangement of sounds triggers an enchantment, which triggers the telekinetic switch.

               The coins in her grasp blink out of existence. A second later, they’re replaced by a crate of summoning chalk. It rattles when she picks it up; the sound echoes around her room until she puts it down by the rest of her demon supplies.

               There’s a lot piled up there now, Lacie thinks. Enough to summon a demon, and at that, she grimaces. Suppresses a yawn.

               She’d better get on with it, then.

________________________________________________________________

               Lacie is starting to think that maybe demons don’t design their summoning rituals with basilisks in mind.

               She’s cleared a space in her room for the circle - has shrunk her laptop back down to normal size with one of Animago’s spells - and now that it’s time to draw the thing, she’s encountered a problem.

               Have you ever tried to draw a chalk circle on wet stone tiles? Have you ever tried to do it without hands?

               It is, in a word, difficult.

               Fortunately, she’d seen this issue coming from day one. She bought a shape template from some website selling school supplies, and blew it up with the same sizing spell she uses on her laptop. She put that over a stone slab she pulled off a drier part of the wall, traced the circle, and voila! A summoning circle.

               (She still needed to decorate it, but she’d rather intentionally chosen a demon with a simpler design. It didn’t take too long to replicate, all things considered.)

               Now onto the candles. To Lacie’s eternal disappointment, there’s no spell on the books for fire, or heat, or anything like that; she has to get creative. While rifling through the backpacks of some ex-treasure hunters, she comes across a portable gas cooker. The ignition is a simple switch she can flip - tick tick tick fwoom , it goes, then fire.

               She keeps that close to her, ready to use.

               After that… The incantation. She physically can’t pronounce the Latin chants needed to perform a sufficiently compelling summoning, which is a big problem. Most powerful demons - ones powerful enough to break bindings - tend to be rather picky about how they’re summoned. Unless it’s done exactly right, they won’t bother showing up for her.

               She needs a demon that’ll be a little more forgiving, and after pouring through textbooks, how-to guides, summoning lists, there’s only one name that seems to fit the bill.

               Lacie lights the candles, one by one, and watches as the circle of Alcor the Dreambender begins to glow.

               Strange things begin to happen. Shadows lengthen. The air gets colder - she feels that like a punch in the gut. In the centre of the chalk lines, a wispy black smoke forms, and golden eyes open from within the darkness.

               Those eyes… Lacie isn’t used to being scared of things, but she stares into those eyes and knows, suddenly, definitively, that she isn’t the monster in the room anymore.

               They turn to look at her now, and-

               “Ow!” The void-black being winces back, rubbing its forehead. “What the heck? It’s like a migraine… what is this?”

               She blinks. Huh, her stare works on demons. They didn’t mention that the summoning guides.

               The demon’s straightening again. “Is this a binding? Because guys, I’m gonna be real annoyed if you tried… to… to bind me with..? Guys?”

               It looks around the circle in confusion… then up, up, following the line of her body to meet her eyes again.

               “Oh.” It gives a hard blink. “Ow, okay. You know you’re supposed to give me a sacrifice before you sic me on the big scary snake monster, right?”

               Shit, it doesn’t see the sign. She holds it up higher.

               “Like, at least a little bit of candy for starters, y’know? Just to be like ‘Hey, I appreciate you for coming all this way’ and I’ll be like ‘Thanks! Now I actually feel motivated to save you from-’” It notices the sign, and pauses. “Um. Hang on a second, I’m missing something.”

               Lacie watches the demon read over the sign: BOUND TO SPELLBOOK, it reads, DEAL TO BREAK BINDING IN EXCHANGE FOR HUMAN SACRIFICES? Its glowing eyes steadily widen, and it glances back up at her.

               “Wait, you summoned- agh!” It blocks her stare with a hand. “You summoned me?”

               She nods.

               “Okay, that’s… new. What did you want again… spellbook... break binding to spellbook- human sacrifice?” Its eyes narrow. “Where are these humans you’re talking about?”

               Putting down the sign, she points at the pile next to the door. Most of them are bones by now, but hey, apparently some demons like that. She watches this one inspect them.

               “Oh, they’re… not fresh. Where did they all come fr- ow ! Okay, please stop with the staring, that’s not gonna work for me!” When she obligingly averts her gaze, he lets out a sigh. “Thank you. Now, uh, I kinda wanna know where you got all these bones from?”

               He sounds way more bothered about that than Lacie thought he would. A little panic fluttering in her chest, she flips the sign over and grabs her carving rock.

               “What are you…? Oh, you can’t talk, can you. Alright.” It shuffles its feet. “You wanted me to break a binding… I can see it now. Connected to that book over there?”

               Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Alcor float closer to it. Closer, closer, too close - it tiggers something in her, and she has to stop writing to block it with her tail. Has to let out a hiss at the literal demon; thank the stars its eyes widen in understanding instead of darkening in anger.

               “Oh, you’ve been bound to guard it,” it says, stepping back. “I see. Sorry. So, those bones - they’re from people who tried to take it, right?”

               Thank the stars again that it realises, because she isn’t even halfway done with the message. She nods.

               “That makes sense. Wow, that must be some important spellbook you’re guarding, huh?”

               An important spellbook - Lacie can’t muffle a snort as she shakes her head. Alcor laughs too, though he sounds a little bit uncomfortable.

               “Oh, that, that’s gotta suck. I’m sorry, uh… What’s your name? If you have one- oh stars what am I saying, ‘if you have one’ that sounds so rude -”

               With another snort, she points at a welcome mat she’s carved just in front of the hidden door.

               “‘Welcome to Lacie’s home. You found the way in, now’ - heh - ‘find the way out.’ I like that, it’s funny!” He grins up at her. “I guess these guys didn’t- ow . Agh, sorry, I was gonna say, I guess these guys didn’t see the sign when they came in, huh?”

               A head shake; they did not. They certainly didn’t laugh at it either.

               (To be fair, they were generally too busy gaping at the giant basilisk in the room to give an opinion on her decorations, but it was nice to finally get a little validation. She is funny sometimes, isn’t she?)

               “Didn’t think so.” Alcor straightens his cufflinks. “Well, Lacie, while I don’t think I can technically count this as a human sacrifice, it should still be more than enough to break any basic bond. So ,”

               She watches him extend a hand wreathed in blue fire, hears him speak with a voice that brings back a little of that initial fear, reminds her that as friendly as he may seem…

               “D̵̜͍͖̘o̱͖̙̰̪̥̹͜ w̹͖̝̩͢e ̵̲͓̖h͇̹͖̞̦̠̮͘a̤̰v̹͔͚̭̦͜e̻ ̻̘̭̫a̩ ͈̳̯̯̰̣̪d̕e͇̪͍̜̻̪͘a̙̻̬̦͔ͅl̲̝͓͔?”

               She’s still dealing with a demon.

               “Wait, uh… you don’t have to shake.” He retracts his hand, demonic reverb gone as suddenly as it showed up, but the memory of it is hard to shake. “You can just, you know, nod or something, that’s fine.”

               Lacie thinks hard on that for a moment. She glances back at the spellbook, the stupid, useless spellbook she’s been bound to, sitting on a lecturn in a room she’s been trapped in her whole life, a room that’s getting smaller and smaller as the years go by.

               She’s outgrown this, she thinks. It’s time to move on.

               “Hang on a second.”

               Alcor’s voice makes her turn. He’s closed his eyes, and there’s a frown on his face that Lacie doesn’t like the look of. She leans in closer, listening to him mutter to himself.

               “This isn’t- now how did he do this…? Oh. Oh , that’s not… dammit, that’s not good.” He opens his eyes. “Uh, Lacie? Got some bad news: I, uh, can’t break the binding.”

               ...What? Why not?

               She blinks, watches him struggle to explain.

               “I-I mean I can, technically! But not with this deal - not that I don’t want to help you, but… it’s complicated. Demon deals are complicated, there’s got to be a give and a take and it sucks, it’s...”

               She watches him sigh. Frowns, as he looks away.

               “Look, uh, I was going on the impression that this was a simple guardian bond, but it’s not. I didn’t think - you know, you were laughing when I said it was an important spellbook or something - I didn’t think it was gonna be some high-level magic… but it is.” He clenches his fists. “He’s managed to bind it to your soul , and that gets tricky for demons. There’s got to be a give and a take, right? And if I give a soul freedom…”

               … he has to take another’s , Lacie thinks, and narrows her eyes. Is this heading where she thinks this is heading?

               “I have to take freedom too, which… well, you don’t feel like selling your soul to me, do you?”

               No no no, that’s the one thing all the manuals said never ever to do! She shakes her head vigourously, and he gives a quiet chuckle.

               “Yeah, didn’t think so… I really did want to help you with the binding, but I can’t. Not without enough payment in return.” The most powerful demon in the world just shrugs helplessly. “I’m sorry. It’s a stupid rule and I’m always trying to bend it if I can, but I can’t outright break it.”

               Lacie looks back at the spellbook. She knows a thing or two about stupid rules she can’t break. She really can’t, apparently.

               Apparently, she’s going to be stuck with this thing for the rest of her life. Well. This… this sucks.

               What is she going to do now?

               “Um, listen,” Alcor clears his throat. “I can’t- uh, I may not be able to break the binding, but if there’s anything else I can do… well, you’ve got a lot of stuff you can sacrifice to me, I can probably do just about anything - anything that’s not soul-related, anyway.”

               Lacie blinks. Just about anything... she could still get out of this room before it starves her. Yes, if he was able to teleport both her and the book outside-

               But what would she do after that? The book’s tiny ; she’d need some way to lug it around, and she’d need to do that while finding food for herself, and oh stars all the guides on demon deals were screaming at her to be specific right now-

               “Do you need some time to decide?”

               She looks down at Alcor, and nods. He floats back towards the summoning circle.

               “Alright, well, call me up again when you’ve got a deal in mind...” Glancing around the circle, at the crispy candles and the shaky drawings of his symbols, he blinks, then he glances back at her. “Uh… how long did this take you to do?”

               A while, Lacie thinks, and snorts. He seems to get the message.

               “Right, well, I’ll leave my calling card with you, so you don’t have to do that all over again.” He fishes the card out of his pocket; somehow, it comes out almost as big as him. “When you’re ready to make a deal, just prick your fing… uh, just hold it, okay? I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

               She takes it, and nods. Tries for a smile, like the humans do to show gratitude.

               “What are you-? Ow.” He squints away from her stare. “Um, well, it was nice meeting you, Lacie! I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

               Alcor seems like he wants to say more, but after a moment of hesitation he gives a quick wave and disappears in a puff of smoke. The candles go out with him - remembering the sheer effort it took to light them in the first place, she cringes at that.

               Well, at least she doesn’t have to summon him again. She looks from the smoke wisping off the wicks, down to the business card in her grasp.

               It’s glossy and black; on one side, there’s a white circle around Alcor’s golden symbol; presumably that’s the place you’re supposed to prick your finger on. There’s a little note up top that says, ‘Need help? Summon Alcor the Dreambender today!’ and she snorts at that.

               What a strange little creature… strangely endearing. She can hear how crazy she sounds thinking about it, but that demon was actually kind of a decent guy? She isn’t about to go selling her soul to him any time soon, but it felt like he genuinely wanted to help and that’s… refreshing.

               It’s certainly a change of pace from the treasure hunters she usually encounters.

               With that in mind, Lacie grips the card. It feels sturdier than it looks, but she still takes care tucking it underneath her. Once she’s done that, she turns back to face the circle again.

               She sighs. Blinks, slowly. After something like that, all she wants to do is take a nice long nap, but...

               Well, she’d better get cracking with that deal.

________________________________________________________________

Showing comments for Chapter 7 of Wizard Animago’s Not-So-Secret Spellbook - His Shitty Death Spells and Why They’re Not to Die For, Seriously

EdgyTwedgy666: [fake lol]

               Sometimes, Lacie really doesn’t like humanity. She likes reading their writings, she likes looking at the photos they take of their world, she even likes the occasional specific human, but as a whole?

Rey_hunter: [can you tell me how to solve animagos riddle?? plz]

JarrSlayer8: [I dont get it. Author keeps calling himself a battlisk? Is this a joke account, because he needs to say its a joke so people don’t get confused.]

Foundit_56: [hehe nice try dude… im coming for that spellbook even if your to scared to…]

               If this is what humans are like, she can understand why Animago hated being one so much. I mean seriously, she’s telling people what’s in the spellbook so they’ll leave her alone, and these are the kind of comments she gets?

Pyrocandro: [ummm, you know planis fugere a mortalis huius doesn’t translate to fly away from this mortal plane right? It looks more like go away to me… jus sayin. Maybe you should take a latin class? ;)]

               Lacie narrows her eyes.

               Maybe the non-treasure hunting humans are nicer.

               Maybe up on the surface, humans are actually cool and not smugly correcting her Latin on every post.

               Maybe, but it’s a shame a human trapped her down here to guard his shitty book, so she might never find out.

               A sigh, long and tired. She’s been brainstorming deals ever since Alcor left, but with her still lugging around the spellbook they all seemed… unfeasible. The thing is falling apart already - how’s she supposed to keep it safe out there? Call it a lack of imagination, but she’s exhausted and the only thing she can think of is to keep holing up in her room, ask Alcor to boost the energy of Animago’s old sustaining spells so it can support her again.

               That would work. It would, but it feels…

               Lacie grimaces.

               It feels like there’s more than this. There’s a whole world out there beyond her room, beyond guarding some spellbook; she’s been looking at it ever since she took a laptop off a treasure hunter’s body. She’s been looking, she’s been reading, she’s been writing, and, just as she was about to make that deal with Alcor, she suddenly realised she’s been wanting .

               Wanting to go out there. Wanting to explore, wanting to leave this place. She’s outgrown it, in more ways than one, and now the thought of staying here, forever...

               It feels like she’ll regret not making a better deal when she had the chance.

               But what is a better deal? Maybe she’s just too tired to think, but her mind is blank and now she’s just scrolling through stupid human comments, thinking this is what I’ll have to deal with for the rest of my life...

woodzarcor4lyfe: [how does a bastlisk type lol theyve got no arms]

               Oh, god. Oh, no.

SheldonHunts: [Actually, basilisks are classified as supernatural BEASTS instead of supernatural BEINGS. They’re non-sentient, so I’m preeetty sure you’re not a basilisk dude... cool post tho, was fun to read :)]

               Fucking. Humans. Why are they like this?

Epicbl00dhound: [looooool i bet there’s so many dumbasses in the comments fallin for this………. your not a bastlicks buddy i bet you made this up to feel special………  i bet your just some guy in your moms basement pretending…… dont pretend cuz humans are THE BEST we beat all other spacies (watch pronatpat he has the TRUTH) so get out of there….. be a human!]

               Ugggghhhhhhhh, why is this her life? Why can’t she-

               Wait.

               Lacie reads that last comment again. Through all the weird grammar and the pro-nat grossness and everything else she doesn’t even want to unpack… it’s giving her an idea.

               Be a human...

               A strange, strange idea - but it might just actually work.

[ineffablefool]

I mean, sure, I already have a hundred thousand incomplete fic drafts, including The Shore Leave One which is up to 3.7k and not done yet.  But why not start a human AU?  Oh, sure, fine.  Oh, now there’s not quite 2.4k of that and it’s basically the entire first chapter?  Fine.  The other drafts aren’t crying sadly at being ignored at all, nope.

First bit of first draft behind cut, for funsies.

---

Crowley hates Soho.

He hates its historic storefronts and its cool little restaurants and its lively queer scene.  He hates everything about it, everything that makes it what it is, because it should be the perfect place for him, only he’s too miserable to enjoy it.  Bloody Dowlings, deciding to go back to America and effectively put him out of a job.  Bloody Anathema and Liz, convincing him to come out here with them, now that he didn’t have anything tying him down anymore.  And of course bloody stupid him for accepting.  Now he’s stuck sharing a nice little flat with his two best mates in a place where nobody ever knew him by his birth name.  It’s awful.

Crowley is pretty sure he understands the concept of happiness.  It just never seems to be anything he can keep hold of himself.

He’s here anyway, though, and he might be drifting through a series of crap jobs, but his past career as a nanny still has his finances looking okay.  He might be edging towards forty, but he’s still got his health.  His looks, too, presumably, since he gets flirted with enough that it’s frankly irritating.  Still lonely as hell,though.  Who wants to bother with someone who’s just in it for a pretty face?

“You’ve got the highest standards of anyone I’ve ever met,” Anathema had scolded him.  “You could have practically anyone you wanted, and you’re still single.  How does that even work?”

“Don’t want just anyone,” Crowley had grumbled.  “Should be the right person.”

Anathema had snorted.  “Meet someone at work.  Have a conversation with a customer.  I don’t know.  I’m just tired of watching you mope.”

--

SPOILER ALERT: turns out there’s a customer at his work who is not just in it for a pretty face.  I wonder who that customer could be?  Probably there won’t be an adorable nickname for him which I will have a Mighty Need to get into place no later than chapter 2.

Also I’m making them basically my age because I can.

Also also Crowley is trans and Liz (nickname: The Lizard) used to be, in Crowley’s slightly taxonomically-incorrect words, “an entirely different reptile” (actually a type of salamander, which are amphibians, sorry Crowley). I’m not sure if that’s clear enough or not, but I guess I’d probably use the canonical character tag if I posted to AO3, and then it would be more clear.

I should go to bed.

[lairofsentinel]

Sorry for so many questions! What is your favourite ingame quest and least favourite?

Don’t worry, I was never asked anything of this. :D This is a nice surprise. I entered late into the Divinity Fandom, so everyone had already talked a lot about the game. XD I dedicated to write fics to release all my intentions of talking about it. xD

This question is hard to answer, because I don’t think I have one fave quest from all the game. There are many, and some that were a pain in the ass.

I will try to pick one fave and one least fave of each map. Of course, companion’s quests don’t count, right?. Otherwise it was obvious the answer XD.

———— Fort Joy————

Like:

The Murderous Gheist, because it broke my heart right in the first moment we are into this game… Migo calling his daughter, confusing her with the flower Yarrow… damn “cure of the Source”. :(

The Purged Dragon: The one you freed Slane. Poor dragon.

Dislike:

The Teleporter: It bothers me to go to kill the turtles, then get the gloves, then go to that cliff… ugh, so many silly steps xD. Then you escape trough a tunnel or a boat.

The historian: I hate the maze, but I loved the NPC. In fact, what the Historian says stimulated a bit what I used as the main danger in the incoming fic.

———— Reaper’s Coast ————

Like:

Burying the past: I like this quest because it gives you the taste of Divinity in Gareth’s skin: you can  try to play fair, but life never is fair: you can kill your friend Magister, and save your parents but at the expense of feeling a betrayer, or risk to give him another chance, or leave him alone, and end up with your parents dead. Either way, you are going to feel shitty. :(

A trial of all seasons: AAAHH I love this one. It’s stupid as fuck, but it made me lost so much time the first time, that I was super angry, but at the same time, I could not be so angry because this place is so beautiful. Those 4 trees are so beautiful.

A danger to herself and others: I liked this quest so much that their NPC ended up in the incoming fic XD. Gregorius Swann, great healer :P

Dislike:

Going after Mordus. Or after Zanísima in the Blackpits. I hate the tunnels in DOS as much as I hate the Deep Roads in Dragon Age. I hated to have my whole party spread all over the map.

———— The Nameless Isle ————

Like:

Running like Clockwork: because I totally loved the music of this gem-universe, and it was so mysterious inside. I loved to learn what had happened in that mini-universe, with all the books and notes scattered around, and dead imps. It was like rebuilding the scene of crime. Loved this one. A lot.

The Mother Tree: Nothing more refreshing than killing tyrants. Same goes for the Prince of Shadows.

Dislike:

The Watcher’s mercy: If you are not a Dwarf, or have no dwarves with you, it’s a pain in the ass.

———— Arx ————

Like:

The execution: This is pure gayness. I loved this quest because… gay!. A desperate wife asking me to save her wife! I’ll save her even if I had to kill Lord Kemm!!!! I liked this quest so much, that DeSelby, the paladin you rescued here, is a secondary char in the incoming fic. Tough girl. If media is always “burying your gays”, I’m all for “saving your gays”.

Finding Lord Arhu: Because Charlie! Give him his ball! Also, what a hilarious thing to have a cat playing to through the ball to a dog. 

Cranley Huwbert: Because I’m a sucker for lore, and this NPC is the one who wrote all the encyclopedia books in the game! XD

Dislike:

The consulate: I think it can qualify as the worst quest ever, in the whole game. HELL. Those damn immortal lizards.

What a Fuss to have Wrought: because I hate Sanguinia Tell, damn loan shark.

Spoiler alert: I failed in picking one of each. Damn.