#the way of kings itself and not other books so those are probably going in their own post.

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Okay so a while ago I was making a chart of the chapter icons, their meanings/ associations/ and chapter summaries in the Way of Kings, and seeing if there were connections and I stopped after chapter 58 and did other things for a while, but I was revisiting it earlier and

Wind and Truth Spoilers below.

HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER IS ABOUT.

Chapter 11, Droplets, is the chapter in which Kaladin goes to the Honor Chasm and is talked out by Syl. He decides to lead bridge four. "One more try." The Icons are all Jezrien.

This is the second time in the book we have Jezrien icons. The first is the Prologue, in which Szeth kills Gavilar, bearing Jezrien's honorblade. That feels purposeful. At that point (end of part 1) Taln's been the icons thrice, Vedel twice, and Ash, Pralla, and Ishar the remaining 3. But Jezrien's only been there in the prologue with Szeth and in chapter 11 with Kaladin.

First, Jeziren is the Herald of the Windrunners. Kaladin becomes the first windrunner in 1.5 thousand years. Jezrien is associated with protecting and leading. We know how much of a big deal protecting is for Kaladin. It also goes with what's in the chapter. He decides to lead, to try to protect bridge four. He also is saved by Syl. It's a second chance. The 11th chapter. "The King" AHHHHH GUYS. He's the 11th herald. King. It's the 11th chapter. all jezrien icons. Second chances. THIS IS SO NEAT

he's the 11th herald and chapter 11 has icons for the first Windrunner herald and that makes me feel things

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 

“Of course, your highness.” 

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed. 

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[geesecanon]

Fog

read on ao3 Rating: Explicit Type: One-shot, PWP Words: 5,240 Tags: Ford Pines/Reader; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Creampie; Overstimulation; AFAB reader (but no pronouns are used); Library Sex; Strangers to Friends (?) to Lovers Summary: ""It's a stone King classic," you had defended, and began counting off on your fingers. "It's got weird creatures; it's got a small boy; it's got an old woman who's a religious fanatic; it's got two characters unnecessarily having sex right in the middle of it — although, now, I kinda get it. What else is there to even do?" You had said it as a joke. Obviously. But then you had caught Ford's eye and you both stared at each other a few seconds too long. And then he had you up against the wall."

Dizzily, you try to remember how you ended up here: pressed against the wall, a hand that is not yours cupping your ass, the other getting rather adventurous under your shirt, with Stanford Pines groaning into your neck and grinding you against him.

It had been one of those inexplicable situations where you were the only two left in the library, no staff to be found, almost certainly after hours, and definitely alone. Oh, and the ominous fog. That is also a key factor as to why you had not left as soon as you realized you had overstayed your welcome.

With your hand on the door handle, Ford had grabbed you by the arm and said nervously, “I… wouldn’t go out there, if I were you.”

Right, so, if the expert on the strange and unusual was telling you to avoid something, you would heed his advice to the fucking letter.

And then, uh…

You gasp, sharp and breathy, head thunking back against the wall as he wedges a knee between your thighs and presses up. “Ford — shit —” Both your hands in his hair tighten as your entire body tries to curl in on itself with the sudden spike between your legs, almost completely involuntarily as the arousal shoots through you.

It has the interesting reaction of getting a low rumble from the back of his throat, as he uses his hand on your ass to grind you against him further, harder, almost bruising — the heat in you only boils hotter at the combination. There is something just so appealing about getting a man usually so composed into a panting mess. Well, at least to you.

Right, but again, what had happened between noticing the ominous fog and humping each other in the back of the library like horny teens? You and Ford are — well, you are friends, probably, in the way that two people who exist in the same place at the same time with enough occurrences eventually become friends. Both of you were known to haunt the science fiction section of Gravity Falls’s library with disturbing frequency, as your life and job had been in a lull, and Ford had been… doing whatever he does.

After enough awkwardly stepping around each other in the aisles, you caught him frowning at the back of The Tommyknockers one afternoon.

“Not to spoil it,” you had said quietly, sidling up to him and clearly spooking him with your interruption. He looked at you with wide, brown eyes behind slightly cracked glasses, before the expression shifted into one of vague recognition. “But, it’s an addiction metaphor.”

“…It is?”

You nodded. “Not that it makes it bad. It’s a good book. But, not for everyone.”

“So, you just saw fit to warn me?” he asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“You just looked so confused by the blurb,” you shrugged. “I thought I’d save you the hassle. It is kind of a doorstop.”

He had checked out the book that day. You had not gotten his name then.

In the present, Ford decides he is done attacking your neck like a fucking vampire and migrates the adventuring hand from under your shirt to tangling at the hair at the back of your neck, using the grip to angle you better for a kiss that makes you weak at the knees. He is a staggeringly good kisser — or maybe you are just desperate for it, his glasses are pressed between you which is kind of annoying — which you never would have quite guessed from the zealous professor vibes he had going on, always in knit turtlenecks and high-collared shirts.

Instead, his tongue counts your teeth, meeting yours, and you are left panting into his mouth.

After a few minutes of this, and after one particularly hard thrust against you, he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead hard against yours. “Ford…” you whine as you desperately try not to hump his thigh too vigorously, at least attempting to retain some composure. He chuckles, breath hot against your face, and you open your eyes to see his screwed shut, mouth slightly hanging open. Your hands travel down his sides and you tug at the hem of his sweater with some urgency. “Stop, hnngg, stop teasing.”

He rumbles a noise that you feel more than you hear, and he tilts his head down to murmur in your ear, “Needy, are we?”

It just makes you burn hotter; your eyes slip closed. “Come on.” It is hard to sound threatening when you are caught so breathless. For all his posturing, you know Ford is equally as ruffled as you are; you can feel the hard line of his dick in his jeans every time he grinds you against him. Your cunt has a heartbeat and the man seems stuck in some kind of feedback loop of, again, necking like horny teenagers. You could definitely come just from the dry humping, but you’d much rather —

Abruptly, his hands leaves you entirely, lifting his head… only to wrap both hands under your thighs and hoist you into the air, pressing you even harder against the wall. You gasp, “Jesus,” at the shock all the breath being crushed from your lungs and your feet no longer being on the ground, and instinctively you wrap both legs tight around his waist. Your eyes fly open to catch a front row view of his jaw clenched, an extremely dark and concentrated expression across his face. You are both extremely amused and extremely turned on by this.

Ford readjusts his grip, fingers digging painfully into the fleshy undersides of your glutes, before he steps back and actually carries you with him. You yelp, leaning your weight further against him, face buried in his shoulder and arms now tight around his neck for stability. The few steps from the wall to a nearby table seem to take a not insignificant amount of effort. But he still manages it.

“I could have — walked,” you complain as he functionally drops you on the edge of the table.

He pulls back, breathing a little heavier, and runs a quick hand through his hair to push it back. He grins down rakishly at you, clearly delighted by how flushed you are. “Too difficult.”

“Too — too difficult?” you laugh.

He hums an affirmative, smoothing some flyaway hairs from your face before leaning in and kissing you much more sweetly than before. You make yourself more comfortable on your perch and raise yourself up into it, wrapping an ankle around the back of his knee while one of his hands cups your jaw. It is an unexpected change of pace, but not an unpleasant one.

Anyway, it had taken roughly three or four more brief asides in the sci-fi aisles before coincidence brought you to the check-out counter together, while idly discussing the Catholic dogma in Book of the New Sun, when the librarian behind the counter said, “Find everything okay, Dr. Pines?”

“Yes, Mildred, thank you,” he said breezily, setting down his stack of books for her to begin scanning, then rifling through his pockets.

“Doctor?” you repeated.

In lieu of a response, he finally pulled out his library card and had flipped it up for you to read — Gravity Falls Public Library: Stanford Pines — then put it atop the stack to be scanned as well. “I suppose it is ill-mannered of me to not have asked your name already.” The line sounded smooth, especially in the low timbre of his voice, but the light pink tint to his ears gave him away.

When you realized you recognize the name, you ignored the expected polite reply of telling him your name in turn, and instead asked, “Are you that guy who lives in the woods? Er… or that guy who ran the Mystery Shack…?” You faltered, as you consistently got them mixed up in your mind, and were not entirely convinced they were two separate individuals.

“That would be my brother,” he said with a hint of snide disdain, “Stanley.”

“God, did your parents like, hate you or something?” you said without thinking.

“Or something,” he replied with a wry smile.

“Sorry, that was —” What the hell came over you to say that to a complete stranger? You readjusted your own stack under your arm, and held out a hand, introducing yourself by name. Thankfully, he shook it; your name sounded much nicer in his voice than it ever did in yours.

“You’re all set, Dr. Pines.” The librarian pushed his stack of books back to him.

You expected him to grab his books and bid you a polite goodbye, as you hoisted your own stack upon the counter. But he lingered and asked, “You’re new to town?”

“Ish,” you said, steadying your elbow on the counter to lean your weight there. “It’s been a year or so. Is it that obvious I’m a transplant?” you joked.

“No,” he reassured you with a bit of a smile. “Only in that you didn’t know who I was.”

You slid your library card across the counter as well, heard the beep of the scan, then grabbed your own stack. “If it helps, I’ve heard the name.”

“What else do you hear?” The amused twinkle was back, tone playful and — oh my god was he flirting with you?

Behind you both, the next person in line cleared their throat at a pointedly loud volume, and you scampered away, face burning. Ford held the door open for you as you slunk out them — how gentlemanly — and you waited for them to shut behind both of you.

Ford turned back to you, expectant of an answer. “Only weird things,” you had told him with a smile. “Promise.”

He had blinked, smiled again, much more genuine than it was flirty, then bid you a quick and polite goodbye.

Currently, your hands run up under his sweater, palms gentle over the surprising amount of muscle — or, maybe not surprising, since he had literally just picked you up off the ground. His stomach tenses under your touch. Is he ticklish? “Are you, like, secretly jacked or something?” you mumble against his lips.

He rears back with a bemused expression. “Secretly jacked?” he repeats, the words sounding extremely foreign in his mouth.

“You are hiding an unsuspecting amount of muscle under these dorky sweaters,” you tell him, settling both hands just above his hips.

He huffs, one hand steadying himself against the table, the other pressing his thumb gently against the underside of your jaw as he cups your face. “They are not dorky.”

“It’s fine that they’re dorky,” you laugh at his attitude. “If you had been showing up to the library in muscle shirts, then…”

“Who in the world is showing up to libraries in muscle shirts?” he asks, incredulous at the mere idea, and the hand not on your neck slides up your side, also under your shirt, rucking it up. His palm is large, spanning around your ribs.

“You’ve lost the plot,” you say, removing your hands to begin undoing his belt buckle. “It was a compliment.”

“The dorky sweaters or the secret muscles?”

“Either,” you reply, a little distracted as you try to keep eye contact while shoving his pants over his hips and slightly down his thighs. “Both.” You cup his dick through his briefs, feeling him hard and heavy through the fabric.

That, at least, distracts him too; Ford says something truly unintelligible that you take to be a swear and leans into your touch. Jesus, he feels — he feels big. You bite your tongue against that compliment, as he presses his forehead against yours again and puffs a hot breath across your face. You run your hand from the thick base to the head, the fabric there slightly damp.

“Stop — stop distracted me,” he huffs, and then his hands are also going for the button on your jeans, a little awkward around the angle of your hand still down his pants. You get with the program and remove it to instead help him get your pants off, kicking them off and to the floor. For a moment, you consider continuing the dry humping him here, you are getting desperate, but he tugs you even closer to the edge of the table. You have to lean your weight back on your hands as you just barely balance there, as he presses two fingers against the very clear damp spot in your own underwear, rubbing roughly against your clit.

You swear as well, but definitely in English.

For all that was good — how had you ended up with your pants off in the library, panting with sheer anticipation?

After several more months of only seeing each other in the stacks, catching up over recent reads, opinions on the subject matter and, yes, definitely flirting, you had started to consider Ford a friend. You even tried to keep a regular attendance schedule just to catch him on a consistent basis, since neither of you seemed to progress it further past the walls of the library.

Okay, so maybe you had developed a bit of a crush, also. So what if he was, at minimum, at least two decades your senior? The silver fox thing worked well on him, and you never saw him outside the library. It was harmless.

Which all led to today, when you spent longer than necessary chatting, not paying attention to the time until you realized that you two were the only ones left. Mildred wouldn’t just leave you locked in the library overnight, would she? Or maybe she was just tired of how you two kept holding up the checkout line on a biweekly basis.

Still, when you saw the fog, and then were warned not to go out in the fog, you had thought, well, fuck, what is this, The Mist? Considering some of the stories you heard from the locals, it might just be. Somewhat frustrated, somewhat fearful, you had said aloud, “What is this, The Mist?”

“The what?”

“You know, The Mist.” You led him farther into the library, where the desks and tables and chairs and beanbags resided. Turning to him and crossing your arms, you said, “I’m pretty sure I literally handed you Nightmares & Dreamscapes like, a month ago.”

Ford wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t quite care for that one.”

You laughed. “I know, you said The Jaunt was too unrealistic for long-distance teleportation.”

He huffed, apparently annoyed at the reminder. “Because it was. But, The Mist wasn’t that good, either.”

“It’s a stone cold King classic,” you had defended, and began counting off on your fingers. “It’s got weird creatures; it’s got a small boy; it’s got an old woman who’s a religious fanatic; it’s got two characters unnecessarily having sex right in the middle of it — although, now, I kinda get it. What else is there to even do?”

You had said it as a joke. Obviously. But then you had caught Ford’s eye and you both stared at each other a few seconds too long.

And then he had you up against the wall.

You whine again, a truly undignified sound, when he pushes the fabric of your underwear aside to slide one thick finger into you. “Oh, my god,” you mutter, as you realize this is actually happening to you, right here, right now.

Ford looms over you, leans in, so you are forced to lean back as well, until your back hits the table. His stare is extremely intent and heated.

…And he is just keeping his finger completely still, and you squirm against it, trying to — “Can you at least move?"

The intensity breaks as he grins coquettishly and draws it out slowly, before pushing two fingers back in. The stretch of it burns in the best way possible, and your eyes slip closed. “Needy,” he reiterates the sentiment from earlier, this time almost lightly scolding you. Which should not be as hot as it is, while he sets a slow pace. “You, my dear, are extremely impatient.”

You groan out half a laugh, clasping one hand tight around his bicep, feeling it flex under the knit fabric; on the out stroke, he curls his fingers, and your hips lift off the table as he drags over that particular spot. His unoccupied hand lands on your hip, pinning you there.

“You are doing this on purpose,” you accuse, heart positively hammering.

“Doing what?”

You open your eyes just to be able to roll them at him, and instead of verbally answering, you use your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and drag him down into a heated kiss. Ford smiles against your lips, positively lecherous, as his pace speeds up. Your kissing loses its coordination as you get closer to the edge, turned on by the fact you can hear yourself get wetter and wetter, twitching around his fingers as the coil tightens and tightens in your stomach. Just when you are becoming accustomed to two fingers, he pushes three in without warning.

“Fuck,” you gasp, hand tight in his hair, struggling against his grip as you are unable to stay still. Your thighs tremble at the strain of trying to chase the sensation as he stretches you further, your feet kicking uselessly in the air at particularly rough strokes. He leans in more and puts one knee atop the table, steadying himself and keeping it from rocking so much. “Fuck, I, ah, Ford!”

He lifts his head to watch your face contort in pleasure. “Tell me what you want, darling.” He is drinking in every noise and involuntary motion you make, expression eager.

How is he this debonair? It feels wildly unfair how much this is turning you on — isn’t he supposed to be a shy nerd? “I — shit — please, I need, I need —!”

“You need,” he repeats, sounding close to deprecating, amused and acting utterly unruffled by the fact you are swiftly coming apart on his fingers alone. But there is a hunger in his eyes that gives him away. Then, he shoves all three fingers in as deep as possible, while grinding the heel of his palm against your clit.

“You are such,” you say through gritted teeth as your cunt clenches around him, “a fucking bastard.”

You get the most shit-eating grin in response. “Well, if that’s what you think…” he tuts, drawing his fingers out, slowly, slowly.

“No!” Your hand shoots out and grasps his wrist, the other tightening in his hair to keep him there. He wants to see you desperate? Fine, you can play along. “Please,” you plead, absolutely wrecked, and you should probably be feeling embarrassed at how quickly this man got you to beg. Usually you like to stretch it out longer, but — “Please, make me come, please, I —”

Looking satisfied, his speed picks up again, pressing roughly on your clit, and you are so, fucking, close, you are chanting his name in time with each thrust, and, and…!

Ford kisses you again as you peak, swallowing your moan as the pressure breaks and you come on his fingers, still grinding his hand against your clit as your hips buck against him. It is almost painfully tight, but he readily takes it, slowly dragging his fingers against the walls of your cunt and drawing it out.

Eventually, the intensity of the moment gently subsides, and you squirm against the overstimulation. “That’s — hah — that’s enough,” you gasp for breath, and open your eyes — when had they closed? — to see him smirking down at you again, this time with a sort of self-satisfied pride. Cheeky bastard.

You take a few seconds to catch your breath as he draws all three fingers out of you, which makes an obscene noise, and then you are pushing back on his shoulder so you can sit upright. Instantly, you are pulling him out of his briefs, and your mouth positively waters as you take in how thick his cock is. The tip is flushed pink, pre-come already beading there, and it twitches when you take him in hand.

You wrap your fist around him and stroke slowly from root to tip, then get the gut reaction of pure trepidation as you think, is this thing actually going to fit? His hips jerk at your drawn-out touch, and his hand that had just been inside you closes around yours to make your grip even tighter. It is definitely a little gross that you are getting your own arousal all over your hand, but it is also getting all over his dick, and it smooths out the process as you continue to stroke him.

“Fuck,” Ford mutters, staring down at you jacking him off, almost completely slack-jawed. A kind of headiness fills you — you understand his smug little looks now.

“Please fuck me, Dr. Pines,” you practically purr, and he positively shudders when you call him that. You smile, delighted, and the headiness only grows. “Please fill me up, make me…”

Ford chokes out something halfway between a laugh and a groan at your saccharine tone. You chortle as well, the act completely broken, as he closes the space between you two; you let go to steady yourself back on both hands. His belt jangles as he hastily pushes his pants and briefs farther down his thighs, then hooks his fingers into your underwear to pull it off. Gripping the base of his cock to line it up, he rubs the tip against you a few times, catching once or twice on your hole. Your cunt twitches at the anticipation. “You are such a menace,” he tells you, sounding almost disbelieving, still looking down.

“I’m a menace?” you can’t help but laugh. Trying to aim for the same tone as before, you coo, “Why, Dr. Pines, is it too mu— ahh…” but cut yourself off with a moan as he finally begins pushing inside you.

He grits his teeth, pulls out a little, then pushes in again, further this time. He continues to work you open with small thrusts, as you stretch to accommodate him, and no amount of preparation could have primed you for this particular feeling. All twelve fingers dig into your hips to keep you steady, and you slide onto your back again, hands gripping the edges of the table on either side of you as you focus on your breathing. Fucking Christ.

When he is fully seated, hips flush to yours, he lets out a low rumble from the back of his throat. The noise goes straight to your cunt. You are loose and wet from your earlier orgasm, but — “Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters, hunching forward as he steadies both hands on either side of your torso. He hangs his head between his shoulders to look at where you are connected, practically hypnotized by the sight alone.

The complete stillness is killer, and you try not to squirm against him. He glances up at you, his glasses sunk well down his nose but sturdily hooked there. Some stray curls fall across his forehead, which you indulge yourself to gently comb them back with your fingertips. The disheveled look really does work on him, you think, as he closes his eyes and hums at the touch. Well, frankly, all looks seem to work on him for you.

“If you don’t move, I’m going to die,” you announce, breaking the tender reverie.

He snorts, then looks back down, draws out halfway, and slides back in smoothly. Somehow, it feels like he gets even deeper this time. You are definitely going to die just from this. Good way to go, you decide as you wrap your ankles around the back of his thighs.

Ford sets a leisurely pace, gliding in and out with measured thrusts that go from just the tip being settled in you to grinding his dick as deep as it can possibly go, like he is savoring the feel of you. It is not nearly enough, as he pushes up your shirt to press a wet kiss to the very base of your sternum. You fist the collar on the back of his shirt, enjoying the sensation of being filled, but…

“Please,” you beg, “please go faster.”

Without warning, the next thrust is so sharp, you let out a surprised, “Ah!” as even the table wobbles a little.

He somehow presses even farther into you — fucking hell you can practically feel him in your stomach — as he looms over you, staring down with a flushed expression, and yes, now you feel like you are on a level playing field. He looks completely wrecked just from being inside you. “Insatiable,” he breaths with a kind of reverence. “Utterly insatiable.”

Definitely the kind of guy to use ten-cent words while being inside someone. As established, it works, though. “Yeah, yeah,” you say blithely, trying to use your heels to press him in closer. “That’s me.”

He foregoes kissing entirely in favor of ramping up speed, panting hotly against your neck, and you wonder if his glasses are fogging up. Except, as you try to keep control of your moaning as pressure builds in you again, his thrusts are slowly pushing you up the table. So, he stands up straight again with a sore kind of groan, drags you back down by your thighs — fuck, that was hot — and then grips both large hands at your hips to hold you still. The sight of his concentrated expression at where you are connected as he absolutely rails you is enough to put you close to the edge; still sensitive, your pussy clenches around him uncontrollably. It just spurns him on, rocking your whole body with each thrust.

Desperate for the feeling of coming on his dick, you reach down and begin furiously rubbing at your clit, your wetness smoothing the entire way. Every so often your fingers overshoot, and you feel him entering you over, and over, and over —

You come again without much warning, just a gasp and an arch of your back off the table as you grasp blindly for anything to anchor you. Ford practically doubles over as your cunt squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he grits out, eyes glued to your face as you come, pounding into you faster and faster as he chases his own release. “Fuck — fuck — I’m not —”

“Ford,” you whine breathlessly, as the waves wash over you, your thighs twitching with oversensitivity as he somehow rams into you harder. “Please come in me, just —!”

His thrusts become uneven, sacrificing any coordination for the sheer attempt to drive deeper and deeper into you, punching staccato’ed breaths out of you with each thrust as your orgasm finally subsides. He moans your name, then bites out another string of unintelligible curses.

Finally, when it is almost too much, he presses his hips hard against you, hilting himself entirely as you feel his cock twitch in you; he moans, low and deep, as he comes. Ford’s eyes fall closed as he does a few more short, uncontrolled abortive jerks in to you, clenching his jaw so hard you can see a vein popping in his column of his neck when his head tilts back. When he has filled you, the tension in his body unravels all at once as he lets go of your hips and slams both palms on either side of your torso as he falls forward. Spent, he breaths heavily, head hanging between his shoulders.

Both of you take a few more seconds to come down from your respective highs, as your cunt continues to throb, and you reach down to card your fingers gently through his curls. As before, he leans into the touch and lowers himself to settle his forehead against your collarbone, breath slowly evening out. You relax your legs so he can pull out, and you feel his come drizzling out of you. Jesus fucking Christ.

Then, he chuckles, still resting his forehead against you. “I don’t think I have ever considered doing that before in my life.” Somehow, his voice is even deeper from all the exertion.

“What, really?” Surprised, you press your chin to your chest to peer down at him, and he raises his eyes to you as well. “No raunchy library fantasies?”

“Not for at least forty years.”

You laugh lightly, somehow feeling honored. Desperate we-could-die-any-moment fucks do that for a man, you suppose.

You both spend the next few minutes cleaning up in the bathroom, not really keen on being so tacky and sweaty if you have an undetermined amount of time left in the library. Ford emerges to find you sprawled out on a few bean bag chairs you have pushed together, as you feel extremely loose and well-fucked out.

He sits next to you on the edge of one, gingerly. The hesitancy is cute, but unnecessary since he literally just came inside you, and you tug at the back of his sweater until he gets the hint and lays down, too. Thankfully, he takes this as permission to wrap you in an embrace, which you settle comfortably into. Eventually you start to doze with your head on his chest, legs tangled, and a hand settled on his side. He has an arm curled around you, and his hand strokes gently where your shirt has rucked up, warm on your skin.

Not a bad way to die, all things considered.

“So, what’s in the fog?” you ask drowsily.

“Hmm?”

Dragging yourself out of the place where you had been floating, between part and meet, you elaborate, “The mysterious and deadly fog, that we can’t go out in.”

“Oh.” His hand stops its stroking. “There’s nothing special about the fog.”

You open your eyes, blink twice, then steady yourself on a hand to raise yourself to look down at him with a truly bewildered expression. “What?”

“The fog isn’t deadly,” Ford reiterates, with raised brows.

“You said not to go out there!” you argue.

“Right,” he confirms, “it just looked too thick to drive through.”

Is he serious right now? You had been under the assumption this had been an urgent, final fuck sort of deal — not that you were complaining about the extremely good lay, but — wait, does that mean he wanted you that much, that he was just willing to fuck you silly in a library without thinking there was death imminent in his future?

It’s kind of flattering, all in all.

Ford looks more nervous the longer you are silently staring down at him, as your brain puzzles this out, and he tries to reason, “Well, I suppose the fog could be a symptom of something more dangerous…”

“It — it’s fine,” you try to reassure him quickly. “Thank you for… being so concerned about my safety behind the wheel.” It is such a weird thing to say to a man who was railing you fifteen minutes ago. With that, you press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, downturned in a befuddled expression, before snuggling back in atop him.

He seems to breathe a sigh of relief. “Did you really think the fog was dangerous?”

“Yes,” you complain, closing your eyes again, enjoying the rumbling in his chest when he speaks. “I thought it was like The Mist.”

His hand resumes its stroking. “You, my dear, read too much.”

[cyrintheum]

Strohl ESFJ argument (REVISED EDITION):

Hello everyone, It’s really jarring how much intuitive bias this website has. Just because he is intelligent, leads in a group, and has a plan doesn’t automatically mean he’s an ENFJ. Ni does not equate to planning NOR intelligence. It is an introverted function that is subjective to stimuli alongside with Si. Based on the dialogue he says in game, it is pretty apparent that he uses more Si than Ni overall, since he internalizes sensations that are happening, and he is sentimental about those sensations if it is important to him. While I can understand that he seemed to use Ni at the first part of the game, I soon realized that he is more of a Si user throughout the entire game. Pardon me if there are grammatical mistakes, since English isn’t my first language.

I'm gonna skip the part explaining Fe dominant since that is already very obvious, so I won’t try to flesh out that part here. I’m gonna explain Si and Ne on this part.

Introverted Sensing (Si):

When first meeting him, you see that he criticizes the ideals of their late king. He said that it would take more than eloquent words and high-minded speech to implement the deceased king’s ideals. This shows a part of him where he is very critical of grand ideals, and he prefers detailed planning on how to implement it. This is a first sign that he prefers to use Si than Ni. Si users tend to be more grounded and detailed than Ni, since Ni usually has a bigger view about situations. 

His bond mostly focuses on trying to rebuild his past hometown, and he constantly tries to relive the events that transpired through it, whether it may be his traumas or normal events. He also wants to build a future where everyone gets their ruined cities rebuilt, since he does not want them to happen ever again. In a way, Si thinks about the past, but not just the past. It considers the past as a factor, and also thinks about the future due to the past. This is to tell you that Si does not equate to just thinking about the past. They can think about the future in a practical manner. 

Next, he constantly brings up his parents' teachings on doing laundry, cooking, and even honing your swords. This highlights his familiarity with traditional values his parents imposed on him. While you may say that he only does it to cope with his deceased parents, a Si user would be more likely to repeat it due to it valuing familiarity about their experiences. This is not to say that xNxJs don’t do that, but looking at the pattern of sensory behavior he has in the game, this supports his Si usage.

When going to Brilehaven, you are met with him reminiscing on his childhood in that city. "My parents took me once when I was a boy. I remember the day we arrived, and waking up to the smell of the ocean. The place was crowded beyond belief. Everything was so different from our hometown in the countryside.” Another thing, in one of his bonds, Strohl vividly remembers how he met Will, as well as the time where he mentioned that, “The roads were so rough we could hardly keep our arses on our seats, but there you were, reading a book of all things.” In the original description of Si from Jung himself, it is said that, “The introverted sensation type is like a highly sensitized photographic plate. The physical sensitivity to objects and other people takes in every smallest shade and detail—what they look like, how they feel to the touch, their taste and smell and the sounds they make.”. Not only that, Emma Jung had commented on Si itself. Si absorbs every single detail of the sensory experiences outside them, saying that it’s like a person whom you’ve told a joke about in the morning, and they will still probably laugh about it in the night. Those lines show that every single detail of him internalizing sensory experiences into his subjective internal self, attaching personal sentiments due to his parents when they were going to Port Brilehaven, not just remembering the past. This also applies to the time where he remembered travelling alongside Will in the carriage. Si also tends to compare and contrast past and present, since it always looks for discrepancies on what they are used to.

Here are some more quotes from him that indicates Introverted Sensing (Si):

“You used to be able to see the mountains cresting the horizon above the rooftops. It was beautiful. I wish you could have seen it like that.”

“The setting sun is akin to a streak of crimson ink, bleeding its colour into the sky and sea alike.”

“Back in the day, I had to practise over and over until I got a “pop” worthy of a nod. Our village had a big “laundry day” several times a year, and all the people would come together to chat as we laboured away. This takes me back, in a way.” “In hindsight, I think they were trying to teach me not to take advantage of my title. Wisdom that still serves me to this day. The more time that passes, the more I understand how great my parents were.”

In comparison to an ENFJ, Ni is a function that relies on the unconscious. It produces unconscious images imaging the future or having a personal gut feeling. They are also big-picture thinkers who have a subjective vision at hand. Think about Louis who is an ENTJ. He has a grand plan of turning everyone into humans for the sake of equality due to his trauma, and he does not dwell in the past about it. In comparison to Strohl, he is more focused on trying to rebuild his past glory and the old ruined cities, instead of making a long-term plan that revolutionizes the whole country. You may say that he uses Ni because of the part where he said he can sense danger from the wilderness at the start of the game, but keep in mind all MBTI types can sense things. 

At the end of the game, he reminisces about meeting Will in the recruitment center, and he states that he still sees the same about him. There’s just a lot of moments in the game where he constantly uses Si without even trying hard to remember about his past events whether it is about his traumas or not. An ENFJ would literally try harder to internalize and imagine the inner sensations that they experienced, since they have trickster Si. Their Ni-Se paired with either Ti or Te would push those away to make longer-term plans for the future.

Extroverted Intuition (Ne):

He came up with the idea that they should bring a person’s head instead of a monster when he knew that there are bounties that are people too. Everyone else had the same idea when he thought out of the box. Based on his past knowledge, he inferred that bounties also include criminals, hence he proposed the idea of bringing a head of a criminal in the competition to sway the audience. 

In his bond, he mentions that, “I’ve been trying to think of ways to outwit Louis, but all my ideas feel full of holes. An idea comes to me, but I end up thinking, “Louis isn’t dumb enough to fall for that”, and I’m stuck from there…” This shows that he is a lower Ne user. Lower intuition users tend to be more insecure about their ideas, since they only use it not as often as high intuition users. The higher the function stack, the more confident you are with it. 

Aside from the serious things he does with Ne, his tertiary/childish Ne shows through his jokes. Sure a Ni-Se user can make jokes, but a Si-Ne/Ne-Si user would have an easier time making up jokes at the moment since they utilize Ne and would just blurt out the most random things without even thinking like a Ni user would do at first.

Conclusion:

So here’s the thing, Strohl constantly internalizes the feelings and sensations of his past experiences, while they’re just doing the most mundane tasks at hand. An ENFJ would be more likely to talk about abstract concepts, since Ni is their auxiliary function. Literally when even doing the laundry he just casually brings up how much his parents have made him practice laundry, as well as   His goals have also changed in his bond, as well as having trouble realizing his own ideals. This signals that he has trickster Ni in his stack, since he doesn’t think about his long-term goals. The moment he noticed the Drakodios negates protective magla and was part of Louis’ plan may seem like Ni-Ti at work, but I think it’s just his pure Ti at work. Introverted thinking looks for logical consistency in all things, hence he deduced that Louis got their team to get the weapon for him in the first place. 

This concludes my argument for him. I will add more comments if I continue to find more evidence of him being an ESFJ. (2/2)

References:

Wikipedia. (2024, November, 3). Jungian cognitive functions. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jungian_cognitive_functions

Sharp, D. (1987). PERSONALITY TYPES: Jung’s Model of Typology. Wayback Machine. 

[nekohime19]

Wukong study in LMK # PILOT

Let's gooo! I already did a study for Macaque, tbh I still have to post the study for S5 but I hadn't got the chance to edit it yet 😅.

Though now I wanna talk about Wukong! His character, his evolution, how we perceive him and how he's shown. I have seen some people complain about Wukong, about how he's a bad mentor, how he made the worst choices possible…and, well, I wanna go back on that.

Truly, the fact he's not a perfect mentor is what makes me like him.

So here we go, this is gonna be long 😌:

The pilot is our introduction to Wukong and it already tells a lot as it is.

The first minutes of LMK is about Wukong. DBK is going rampant in a nearby city and the Legendary Monkey King appears to stop him. Tang's voice narrates the whole encounter, which gives the scene an epic feel, but also makes both characters, DBK and Wukong, more flat. By that I mean that they feel more like characters from legends than people.

This feeling is reinforced by the fact that neither of them talk. During the whole fight sequence we hear grunts and groans but no exchange in-between them. In fact, the only voice that can be heard is Tang's. The silence of both DBK and Wukong make them feel like puppets, only characters of legends that Tang narrates.

Voices, logos in particular, is a human characteristic (logos is a Greek concept, more precisely it is the ability to speak being seen as the ability to reason, and thus speech being the characteristic of human beings. In literature and many other media stripping a character of their logos/voice is a way to strip them of their humanity. ). Stripping a character of their voice is a way to make them feel inhuman. Here, the fact that neither DBK nor Wukong speaks makes them feel like legends, being of paper more than flesh.

Our first shot of Wukong is this one :

He's presented as a shining beacon. The hero who comes from heaven and descends to save the mortals. The clouds part under his feet, the sun shines in his back and even though DBK appears infinitely larger, Wukong is the one with power, he's physically above DBK which gave his appearance a sense of power.

The whole shot basks in his colors (gold/yellow), even DBK is plunged in his shadow.

Afterward, throughout the fight, Wukong showcases his numerous powers (72 transformations /staff / clones). He feels unbeatable. Mighty. And end the fight by dropping a mountain on DBK.

Once the fight scene ends, our focus is brought to Tang, who closes a book, and MK. That in itself told us that the first appearance of Wukong is not truly Wukong himself but more his legend. In fact, we can even argue that the whole fight we just watched was the fruit of either Tang's or MK's imagination.

As such we're introduced to Wukong as MK sees him : an unbeatable hero, a shining beacon. A perfect being who protects those in need. Which is in fact quite clever, because MK is the MC, so it makes sense for us to be introduced to Wukong as MK sees him.

So what is the first real appearance of Wukong then?

Yes. That's him. That's our guy. The bird in the shadows. A pretty underwhelming appearance isn't it? He's not shining, he's not gleaming like the sun, he's not even a monkey. At this point, even if we saw Wukong's bird form during his fight with DBK, we're not even sure if it's really Wukong.

Wukong wasn't even following MK, he was already here, probably to keep watch on the Bull family. MK just happened to stumble here and Wukong took interest in him.

Wukong as a bird become some sort of comedic aspect. He watches the Bulls schemes with MK, even nips at MK's fingers to make him fall.

Afterward, Wukong follows MK closely, each of his appearances gives rhythm to the different scenes. He acts like a link in-between the different scenes.

They're searching for the Monkey and he's right here, under their noses, but none notices him. Probably, because none would believe Wukong is this measle butterfly perched on the railing. Why would the Great Monkey King follow them?

I think it's a great subversion of what we could have expected of the Monkey King. We expected someone great, someone perfect. At the end of the journey, Wukong is supposed to be enlightened, to be flawless. Yet he clearly isn't. And that's the whole point of Wukong in the pilot. He defies our expectations of him by being… imperfect.

Story-wise, I think Wukong is monitoring them. We can see that he watches both the Bulls and MK's team, he's silent, observant, clearly he isn't letting fate decide. He's not irresponsible enough to not observe the situation and let others deal with it. Yet he's intrigued by MK. He wants to see what the boy is capable of. What he is, perhaps. That's probably why he involved MK in the situation by nipping his fingers and making him fall right in the middle of DBK's resurrection.

When MK falls on FFM and enters the water-curtain cave, he sees visions of the pilgrims. He see a vision of Wukong, perfect, shining with a golden hue, and think it's the real Wukong, yet when he tries to touch him, the illusion fade away :

There is great symbolism here. MK chases after an illusion. A legend. An afterimage of Wukong that will never be the truth. Clearly, the show is already telling us to not trust our assumptions of Wukong, to not see him as a perfect hero, because he will not be that.

MK had an epic introduction right there. With imagery of the journey highlighted in gold. This introduction felt mighty, it felt heroic, worthy of the Monkey King. Yet it's not real. In contrast, the true Wukong is introduced to MK through a joke, through a comedic light.

Wukong tries to introduce himself but MK squashes him under his foot like a bug. Sorry, Wukong, you tried.

Afterward, Wukong pushes MK's feet away and goes through an epic sequence of transformations to finally properly introduce himself. The show is playing with our assumptions of Wukong, especially by alternating epic and comedic tones.

Wukong is first presented as epic through Tang's storytelling, then he's seen in a comedic light during DBK's resurrection because of his “bird shenanigans”. Then MK sees an epic version of Wukong, only to find out it's an illusion and stumble upon him through a joke.

When you finally think, perhaps the Monkey King is really a joke? Wukong still introduces himself in an epic fashion.

Clearly, Wukong isn't perfect, he's not the hero you (or MK) thought BUT he's still a hero nonetheless. That's why the show is playing with those two different tones (epic and comedic) to introduce Wukong.

The conversation that follows between MK and Wukong paints Wukong as a laid-back and somewhat lazy person, he's reclining on his cloud, eating peach-chips. He's not the wise master we expected to see. In fact, he's very elusive, seems like he doesn't even care.

His advice is admittedly not that great (even a smidge can make the difference) but ultimately it is what pushes MK forward, it is what gives him the confidence to step up and become the protagonist.

And again, like the show subverted Wukong character, the show is also subverting MK's quest.

MK thought he was here to give the staff to Wukong, but turns out Wukong had been following him this whole time, 🤡. That's because MK's real quest isn't finding Wukong, it's to become the protagonist. The MONKIE KID. In the end, MK needs to be established as the MC. Wukong can't defeat DBK, it isn't his role anymore, it's MK's. In the same fashion, MK isn't the Monkey King, he's the Monkie Kid.

As we can see in this shot. MK is the one forward, he is the protagonist. Wukong is behind, smaller, because it's not his story anymore, it's MK's. The whole pilot is about MK establishing himself and carrying Wukong's legacy.

In the end, once MK defeats DBK, we can see Wukong silently bowing to him.

This is a symbolic passing of his duty to MK. He's not the hero anymore, MK is. He inclines himself before his successor as a way to show he acknowledges him and that MK is taking up his torch. At the same time the mere fact that he's here shows that he's not letting the kid fend off alone. He was here if anything went awry.

So what does the pilot tell us about Wukong?

First, Wukong isn't perfect. He's not like his legend, and as MK needs to let go of this afterimage of Wukong we, as an audience, also needs to let go. We will follow MK through his adventures and as the plot progresses, gradually, we will see Wukong for who he is rather than what we thought he was.

Second, Wukong will not be the stereotypical wise master that we are used to in other media.

The figure of the wise master is often presented as someone that cannot be surpassed, as someone silent, serious with poise and grace. Someone that will make no mistakes, that will be perfect in their teachings. Someone that feels like a pillar. A mountain that the student needs to overcome to end their training.

An example of a common stereotypical wise master would be Master Wu of Ninjago.

In contrast, Wukong is the opposite of this ideal of a wise master. He's shown as lazy, gluttonous with generic advice that anyone could give. Wukong is shown as an antithesis of the stereotypical wise master, he is a deconstruction of this ideal.

It makes Wukong feel way more human.

In fact, I would argue that he is better than other stereotypical wise masters because contrary to them, Wukong learns from MK, he is growing alongside his student. His journey isn't over. I love this because often than not masters in other media rarely if ever learn from their students, it feels like they reached a point where they have nothing more to learn. But it's not true, you will always be able to learn new things from life. In fact, Wukong in his ability to learn from MK showcases much more humility than others masters that consider themselves at the zenith of their own learning.

So I reached the end of this analysis of the pilot. I'll do another post for Wukong in season 1!

If you disagree with me then no hate. This is only my interpretation of Wukong and his appearances. I try to be as clear and unbiased as possible but, you know, I still love Wukong very much so my view of him in LMK will be biased no matter what I try to do, 😅.

Anyway, glad you read this long post of mine. See you for the nest post on Wukong 😉. Btw if you liked reading this, I also made studies on Macaque (You'll find them under the tag Macaque study).

Next

[firendgold]

Harry, Albus and King's Cross

I've seen a lot of fanfics over the years that (when sending Harry temporarily to the afterlife) treat Dumbledore's appearance at King's Cross as an error, or something that The Fandom As A Whole Thinks Is Bad. Not only is the latter a false idea (hi, meet me. I'm still in the fandom for some godforsaken reason lol), but it also kind of rubs me the wrong way to see fanfic-AU!Harry meet instead with Lily (whom he doesn't know and whose accurate shade he probably wouldn't be able to summon to the in-between), Sirius (who is the best alternate contender but isn't the loss weighing most heavily on Harry in DH), Remus (...lol. nah), Death itself (personifying a metaphysical concept to give it more gravity or screentime is a departure from the themes of the series, fight me) or someone/something else.

It was always going to be Albus who met Harry. Not because he's a hallucination. Not because he's the personification of Death or whatever. (Those two ideas are debatable and could be argued, but they're not the point. That's not why.) The why is because Albus Dumbledore is who Harry had come to rely on the most over the entire series. Before Sirius. In spite of Remus. Before his Head of House. Over the flaky government. Albus was Harry's mentor and one of Harry's many flawed father-figures; he was the most enduring person present in Harry's adolescence; and he was the person whose guidance Harry sought almost constantly over the entire final book when he couldn't get it anymore.

A good portion of Harry's character is about the losses he experienced before he was ever aware of them, and about the losses he experiences once he is aware of who he is and what he must do. Albus' loss slots neatly into the latter category and gives us a front-row seat to how Harry grapples with losing someone so important to him.

(Emphasis on "front-row seat" because for some reason, That Woman decided to have Harry insta-heal from losing Sirius in HBP with only the briefest single-sentence reference to off-screen grieving for a few weeks. Like. I realize he only knew Sirius for 2.5 years, but Harry loved him, JKR. What the fuck?)

But yeah. Tangents aside, it was always going to be Albus who met Harry in the fake King's Cross. Sirius died in an inexplicable way which had to be explained both to the readers and to Harry (recall Harry saying "He's only just gone through!" because he thinks the Veil is a curtain, and Remus having to be the one who says "There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone." And although I wasn't active in the fandom then, others can co-sign that there were LOTS of "Sirius Lived/Sirius Will Come Back!" conspiracy theories IRL following the release of book 5). By contrast, Harry watched Albus die. He knew what happened and how irrevocable it was from the moment it occurred.

Most of Harry's conflict and disillusionment with Albus in the final book is the equivalent of a pressure cooker, building until the "explosion" of numb betrayal that happens in The Prince's Tale and is then promptly reversed in King's Cross. Throughout Deathly Hallows, it is Dumbledore's absence which frustrates Harry, confuses him, unmoors him. Dumbledore's final return to Harry in chapter 35 is the circle closed; the wound cauterized. Explanations are finally had; information is finally available to Harry, who thrives on being informed so he can make the decisions which most align with his character. Once he has this information (information he could only have had confirmed from someone actually crossing from the land of Death to meet with him), once he understands that Dumbledore wanted him to live but made the painful choice to lead him to Death in the name of destroying Voldemort, Harry makes the choice to forgive Dumbledore for his part in the pain and misunderstandings that have plagued his life.

In order to have someone else meet Harry at the crossroads between living and dying, you have to basically rewrite not only the end of Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, but also a significant portion of every other book. If it's an AU, have at—I might even give it a read. For meta discussions though? I say a third time: Albus was always going to be the one waiting for Harry at King's Cross.

[zzthekaiju]

Best of the Reptiles in Media - 01 - Godzilla (Monsterverse)

I figure that while I'm using this blog, I might as well post my ramblings on a subject dear to my heart: That being the representation of reptiles as characters in media. And not just villainous or vile ones like we're so used to. I'm talking about ones that inspire me. The ones that are legitimately compelling to me. And these posts are an excuse to espouse why.

Plus, it's just fun. You can thank the likes of @tyrantisterror and @bogleech for inspiring me to do these.

So who better to start with than with the lizard who's been an inspiration to me for almost my entire life. That being the one known as Gojira. AKA...Godzilla.

This is the one character in these posts who probably needs no introduction. Ever since his debut in 1954, the walking embodiment of the horrors of nuclear war, among other things, has been nothing less than an icon. This is the beast people think about when they hear "giant monster" or "kaiju". This is truly the King of the Monsters.

My introduction to Godzilla was a children's book called "Godzilla on Monster Island". It was a fun read full of neat monsters living together and teaming up to stop an evil plan. And it left me wanting more. I wanted more stories of these fantastic yet friendly beasts being friends and living together while having fun adventures. Little me was a bit disappointed to find that Godzilla spent more time fighting his fellow kaiju and trashing cities instead.

The truth, as I would find out, was that Godzilla is never just one thing. He is a fun defender of the Earth. He's the terrifying consequences of our tampering with both nature and science. And in recent memory, he's been a lot of other things. But most of the time, he's either hero or mankind's hubris on two legs. To me, he was a giant dinosaur that could fire thermonuclear breath, and that was all that mattered. It was after hearing about the historical significance of him that my respect doubled.

Back then, I would tell you that my favorite Godzilla from a design standpoint was the 2002 version. Personality wise, almost every Showa appearance post-1964.

But in 2014, everything changed. In came a Goji that seemed to have everything I could ask for. So, we're going to look at the one that resonates with me the most. The Monsterverse version.

That right there is perhaps one of the most awe-inspiring entrances I've ever seen in a cinema.

Before the release of Godzilla (2014), the franchise had entered something of a slump period. The last film was all the way back in 2004, and sadly, the kaiju genre was still something of a niche thing growing up. Here in America, you either liked superheroes or real-life celebrities as a kid. If you liked monsters, let alone giant monsters, you were one of the weird kids. That, or one of the kids who never lost their passion for dinosaurs. But those were rare.

Then Gareth Edwards unleashed this film, and while one could argue that Pacific Rim (2013) got the ball rolling, THIS ultimately resurrected the entire franchise of the Big G, and got him a degree of general respect from most film-goers (so long as you ignore the irritating internet drama regarding screen-time back then).

But let's get to the meat of this post. Why is this Godzilla so much better to me than the rest? A few things, really.

First off, there's Godzilla's role in the Monsterverse's narrative. For the most part, he is a guardian of the natural order, a means of bringing balance to imbalance. He is a metaphor for how nature is capable of righting itself, and how we either have to deal with it, or live with the consequences. In practice, Godzilla ends up going up against almost every monster, most of which are only a threat because we awakened them/created them. Yet despite this, he doesn't go out of his way to destroy us. He's not mindlessly destructive or particularly vengeful either. He knows we're a part of the world too. We just tend to grate a bit more on his nerves because of how much we screw up. If there's one thing this series isn't afraid to show, it's that...well, "the arrogance of man is thinking nature is within our control, and not the other way around."

Design-wise, this is one of the best Godzilla's around. He's bulky, has a killer stare, and there's something oddly endearing about how...well, meaty he is. He's like if my aforementioned previous favorite design, the 2002 one, put on both a lot of muscle and weight. It also ties into his fighting style, said to have been inspired particularly by bears. Even the sounds associated with him are amazing. From that hype-inducing charge of his thermonuclear breath to what might be the best rendition of the classic roar.

Then there is the body language. This Godzilla's usual gait is slow, almost plodding at times. He shows clear signs of exhaustion in some scenes. What he goes through is hard, and his job is even harder, but he still does it. It really helps sell his personality most of the time.

Part of why I like the Monsterverse so much is that, for the most part, the kaiju are treated as characters in their own right (that's not to say they weren't in previous iterations, far from it, but it's a bit more pronounced here than most of the post-Showa stuff). Sure, some films in this verse are better about it than others (more on that later...), but I like how you can glean what Godzilla is thinking of just by looking at his eyes. Of particular note is how they widen in "Godzilla: King of the Monsters" when Ghidorah gains the upper hand during the final battle, his absolute sneer of anger in the first movie when the male MUTO approaches him, or...this.

This scene. This one right here encapsulates so much of what I love about this iteration. Where Godzilla, dazed and thoroughly battered by both the fight with the MUTOS and having a building fall right on him, locks eyes with a tiny little soldier. You see a sense of tiredness, of pain, of acknowledgement, and maybe even a little wonder. This is not just some mindless beast fighting for its turf. It's a thinking being. And he's hurt. The most powerful creature on the planet isn't invincible, neither on the outside and definitely not on the inside.

And you know what? I've been there. There are times where I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world, that there are things too heavy to bear, and its suffocating. Godzilla constantly shows throughout the Monsterverse that his job as a living balancing act is wearing on him. He gets put through so. Much. Crap. From getting buildings dropped on him to being personally dropped from a distance above the clouds to watching his symbiotic partner/mate die, it's almost unfair how we're expected to not really sympathize with him as much as...I'll get to that later.

But he never gives up. Despite all the pain and fatigue, he gets back up, and he fights. And he fights. And he continues until the deed is done. Someone has to rise to the occasion, and it might as well be him. If not him, then who?

That is the biggest reason I resonate with this Godzilla. His awe-inspiring design is one thing, but he gave me the strength to persevere. I don't give up, because he never did. Never before had the Big G been such a hero to me. Such that in 2014 I found myself silently sobbing to myself when it seemed like he was dead near the end even though that was clearly not the case. It's hardly a surprise that I based my personal Godzilla AU on him, albeit with the more sympathetic traits dialed up. Stuff like this made G14 and KOTM some of my favorite kaiju flicks...

...which made it more than a little disappointing when Wingard took the helm and basically said "screw that, this is about the monke now!" Yeah, GvK is the weakest entry in the series for me for a reason. Godzilla's more redeeming qualities are buried under a narrative that clearly is not interested in giving him the time of day or even the benefit of a doubt. Both it and it's successor, GxK, are Kong movies through and through, and that means poor Big G is put out of focus.

I cannot tell you how much I HATE this idea that the only way a monster can be relatable is if it either looks almost just like us or is really cute. Yes, I understand the universal appeal, but they had such a good thing going for Godzilla! And they throw almost all of it away just so that they can make Kong look better by comparison.

Credit where it's due, these issues are slightly improved in GxK. It's not only firmly established that Godzilla is an overall benefit to the world for keeping the other Titans in check, but we get some interesting bits with him like how he instantly responds and prepares to answer the call of the Iwi and help them. It shows that despite his tenuous relationship with humans, there are ones he clearly gives a lot of thought to. And there's also how he makes the Roman Coliseum his own personal bed. Not only is it kind of hilariously adorable, but if you remember how in KOTM he had his own man-made temple, you get the impression that he has a bit of homesickness. That's the kind of thing I like to see! More of that and less "he's only ever angry and he only ever fights, character is for primates only".

Also, while the Evolved design has nice details, I WANT THAT GUT BACK! it just looks weird otherwise with that disproportionately skinny waist.

But thankfully, our prayers might be answered:

With GxK's roaring success (ha!), it's more than likely that the next Monsterverse entry will finally give Godzilla an overdue character arc that doesn't begin and end with "destroy everyone and act big and scary and nothing else". Just please make sure that he doesn't have to die to get that. There are plenty of ways you can make us invest in the guy's story without having to kill him. I WANT to see more of that emotional vulnerability teased across the movies. I want to see him come to terms with how he's been going about his job. And more importantly...I want to see a more explicit Mothzilla scene. A nuzzle and everything. But that's just me.

Whatever the quality of his current status, nothing is taking away how much I love this version of Godzilla. He's taken me out of some very dark places, and for that, I say long live the king.

Also, he brought Mothzilla into the public sphere and every Mothzilla pic made since is the cutest thing ever, so I just love him even more.

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

Ok, I'm going to say something a bit dodgy, do take into account that my beef is with Rick and not Annabeth.

I might have been tempted to read The Chalice of the Gods (as opposed to anything after Staff of Serapis, which I've given a pass) if I didn't know that, as long as Annabeth is there as well, Percy won't be well-written. More specifically, he won't be written as himself.

When Rick wrote HoO, he had to figure out how to include Annabeth in the seven without having all these other powers dwarf her out. He did this by establishing a strict division of labour, according to which she was the strategist, and no one else. That has never been the case, at least not in such an exacting way.

Percy's saved their butts with his plans at the very least as often as she has. He's outsmarted his opponents, he's manipulated them, he has like a signature move that he pulls in almost every single book that basically goes "forget you're an almighty entity who could probably just ignore me without any problem and get down here and fight me at my level!" (tlt: Ares, Luke (unsuccessfully, since he refuses). som: Luke again (successfully, since he plays on his need to control his army's opinion of him). botl: Antaeus. tlo: Kronos. technically Gaia in son), he's been the one to figure out what they needed to from the prophecies (som: that they needed to send Clarisse to camp. ttc: the thing with Atlas's curse. botl: that Nico was the ghost king. I don't include tlo bc Annabeth figured it out first), he often comes up with the winning plans, like how he was the one who figured out how to get past Cerberus, even if it was Annabeth's expertise that allowed them to pull through (just like it was Percy's skill and weapon that allowed Annabeth's plan for Medusa to succeed) or tangling Antaeus on the ceiling chains. The scene with Chrysaor? Perfect blend of knowledge of myths, strategic genius and pure labia. For all the times we see him lose his cool or speak impulsively, we also se him go "wait, this person is trying to provoke me, I have to chill". I saw a comment a little while ago that Percy should've been dragging Giants to the gods feet for them to finish off -- that's what he did! Only he didn't physically drag them there, he planned them there. He tricked Polybotes into following him to Terminus, into pissing Terminus off so he'd agree to help, then killed him. While it was far from complex, he's the one who came up with the strategy to beat Otis and Ephialtes, so they only had to wait for Bacchus to step up.

I'm not saying Annabeth isn't smart. She has an impressive store of knowledge, which in itself is a clever thing to store, because it matches with her style of managing resources -- be they mental, like her facts, or physical, like her hat or things she finds in her surroundings, like the glass balls in Medusa's lair. Annabeth is probably the best at looking at a situation and going "okay, let's look at what we have. Ah, yes, a limitless credit card. Ah, yes, a store-full of clothes that no one's going to want back. Ah, yes, those weird-ass proteins that Hermes gave us, just like Hermes gave someone else food for a place just like this. Ah, yes, knowledge of how to fly a helicopter."

Here's the thing, though. When I read the phrase "Athena-like chatter", I almost broke something laughing. She's good with lies, hers are better and more believable than her friends'. When it comes to chatter, though... I couldn't even tell you how good she is, because I don't think I've ever seen her do something like that before MoA?

But, you know, okay, Rick has to spend more time in her head, she's been elevated in status to one of several protagonists instead of a deuteragonist as she was in PJO (he has to solve this oopsie - I don't agree with everything here, like how, except for her intelligence, Annabeth's other skills are "dump stats", but...), so he has her expand. Good for her. I think it worked alright in her fights in MoA -- a little bit of the old (impressive expertise in certain areas, management of resources), add a little bit of the new (a perceptiveness and gift of gab that she's rarely shown before, if ever, although you could argue she might have taken the "talk your enemy into beating itself" from Percy just like she learned to simplify from Frank).

That's not my real problem. It's this, from when they're fighting Akhlys:

Percy wanted to give her more time. She was the brains. Better for him to get attacked while she came up with a brilliant plan.

... What. Of everything that we've seen of Percy. That I've described just now. Makes sense with this? And please don't give me crap about "it's because his self-esteem is so low!" because 1) this isn't just about what he's thinking, it's about what he's doing, which is pretty much nothing while he waits for Annabeth to save them. He's never lacked initiative like this. Even while thinking, "wow, this absolutely crazy and dimwitted plan is so bad that it's going to get us all killed!" he still did it. ( 2) I've heard "it's bc of his self-esteem/ he plays dumb on purpose" to justify fandom's constant underestimation of Percy's smarts too many time to let it fly now.)

"It's because he trusts Annabeth's judgement more than his own, and he lets her do what she does best when she's available. Other times he's been forced to come up with a plan, it's because she isn't." Did he wait for Annabeth to shoot her shot with Ares before going in with his own plan? Did he keep quiet his misgivings about her level of preparation for the Labyrinth in BotL? Did he leave her to organize the battle plan in TLO? Did he give up after Chrysaor beat him twice in a sword fight and wait for her to come up with a plan? Absolutely not.

"Well, he still beat Akhlys, so I don't see what you're complaining about, it's not like he's useless or anything." True. It wouldn't be the first time he has to resort to brute force to get past an enemy he couldn't outthink (the telekhines come to mind) or that he never even bothered trying to outthink (Hyperion comes to mind), because it's not like strategizing is something that's essential to Percy's style, even if it does come up a lot. I said before that it's his actions that bother me and not what he was thinking, but there is some of that, too. That he wasn't thinking "I can't figure out what to do" or even too busy fighting to start to wonder about what to do, but "there's nothing I can contribute here but my fighting skills". It's sadly a dynamic that Rick has tried to encourage between them.

Sure, Percy only ever gets more powerful, but, even without Annabeth around, he loses any of his braincells. Look at his underwater fight with Polybotes. He starts off in the ship with an impressive display of power -- holding the ship together in the middle of a supernatural storm. Then he gets underwater and immediately loses to PB. The guy he would've one-shotted several times if he could kill him without a god's help. "He doesn't have experience fighting underwater," water not only gives him a strength boost, it gives him a skill boost, as we see in TLT. Besides, how much skill do you need to not swim directly into a cloud of poison? And really, he doesn't get to do anything but that.

Compare it to SON. He's fighting an almost-whole legion of dead people, with a mix of sword fighting and a whirlwind, and he might have won if they hadn't been able to reform. Recognizing that he was about to lose and to give Frank and Hazel a chance to fight Alcyoneus without having to worry about the army, he brings a whole end of the iceberg down to drown them all. And yet, you know what really struck me of all this? How smart Percy was, because he didn't just fight the legion. He aimed for the eagle, realizing that that would be the best way to keep them focused on him and not Frank.

If he's this capable, though, where does that leave Annabeth, who's a skilled warrior but whose most distinctive trait is thinking?

The whole power/smarts dichotomy is also the actual context of that line about Annabeth being the most powerful demigod. He's just spent two weeks teaching Magnus how to survive at sea, when it suddenly occurs to him that the most helpful thing for him to learn is how to "use what you've got on hand -- your team, your wits, the enemy's own magical stuff." Which is how, despite how often he's done just that, he concludes that Annabeth is the most powerful demigod and the best person to teach him how to survive. (Which is, sadly, all that that comment amounts to. Annabeth doesn't then get a chance to strut her stuff, teach Magnus, show off her smarts, play a part however small in his quest, give some insight into her mind -- nope! She says it was sweet of him and then just leaves with Percy.)

With a bit of luck, RR reread pjo to nail down the feel of it in order to write a book that's supposed to be a tie in for a tv show set in the early days (that's a lot of subordinates!), so he might've rediscovered the characters and found a way to balance that with the... way that he writes them now. I'm not optimistic, though.

(Also, if I have to read more of Percy being always afraid of Annabeth getting angry at him or her looking angry at the smallest of things and this being played as her being a girlboss, or how you "have to keep your boyfriend on his toes", I'll claw my own eyes out, but that's another topic.)

[ardbar]

Okay I’m getting close to being 70% of the way through words of radiance so I feel like it’s times to reupdate my thoughts.

For reference I’m right after chapter 58 currently reading the interludes

Before I believed that once enough of the parshendi took on storm form this would somehow break all of the parshmen out of slave form and begin the desolation. One piece of evidence I had for this but forgot to type last time was that Shen/Rlain had left the army. Quite a bit earlier in the book it mentioned that the Parshmen “didn’t have their song” basically meaning they weren’t apart of the hive mind and lacked freedom. I thought what this was signaling was that now that storm form is being taken it is somehow returning the freedom to the parshmen. While this may be true it could also just be that being in bridge four specifically around Kaladin and the Spren was freeing him I’m not sure.

I’m not sure I still believe all of that though. Instead of freeing the parshmen I just think that once enough have storm form in will bring back their gods perhaps in a diminished state. It could also be that the Parshendi shard bearer manages to break free from the hold of storm form as it actively seem like a small part of her is resisting it. I feel like that has to be the most likely option. In the past the world was barely surviving the desolations even with probably thousands maybe hundreds(?) Of shard bearers and storm binders and right now the only ones we are aware of that are alive is Shallan Kaladin and Lift.

I don’t know how much of the status quo Brandon is willing to upheave in this book and going forward given how much of the series is left.

He’s already done stuff that I wasn’t expecting though. Right now he has Adolin fighting for all of these shards and I was expecting him to eventually lose and the Shallan would maybe have to reveal she has one and let him borrow it so he can have one more climatic duel or something along those lines. However, I feel like the opportunity for that has passed the big 4 v 1/3 already passed and that would have been the point where it made the most sense for him to lose. But instead Kaladin fucked up and now he’s in jail. Now I’m going to use a little tiny bit of spoilers I heard to make an assumption.

I was looking on Wikipedia and it said Oath bringer the third book has Dalinar as the pseudo main character. That’s all I know about the next book. However, I’m guessing that means the king fucking dies and it makes a lot of sense. Right now Kaladin is in prison so either this is the perfect time for the assassins working with moash to strike and if that doesn’t happen now Kaladin has even more reason to help those assassins or just turn a blind eye to them if he is let out. However, I really don’t think Syl would agree with this in anyway. The thing is I don’t know if she has a say. I’m pretty sure she can leave though. And I don’t think they’d make Kaladin lose his abilities. So I have no fucking clue what’s going to happen with Kaladin. Now to best girl Shallan.

She doesn’t even fucking know what she’s doing. I mean that in a nice way. Like girl is trying to infiltrate the Ghost bloods, make moves in the court, stop the apocalypse, and find a lost ancient city. Like right now she has a million and one pathways for her character to go down and none of them can really work together. Like if she joins the ghost bloods she has to leave the shattered plains to go do jobs I assume, if she wants to stay in the camps with Adolin she can’t go do all of her other things, and the stopping the apocalypse/finding the city would also likely require her to leave the camps.

Okay honestly typing this all out has given me some ideas. I think the conflict with the parshendi has to end this book or at least majorly change. The war itself has the narrative in such a chokehold that it restricts the movement of literally every character. I’m guessing the King has to die this book and Dalinar takes over, I’m also guessing the parshendi all take on storm form and go on the offensive and the war camps start being over run. While the attacks on the war camps are happening I’m assume for whatever reason Shallan, Adolin, and Kaladin were all out exploring the plains or like looking at a chrysalis for Shallan or something its not important. in this scenario Kaladin was pardoned but bitter and maybe demoted to being a regular soldier not a captain. Somehow they realize that the camps are being overwhelmed and Shallan is like this is the only chance I have to go look for the city. Maybe this sparks some contention. Anyway I think the book ends with them finding one of those warp gates and gets moved to the place.

In this scenario Dalinar might be able to force the parshendi back but the balance of power has clearly shifted in favor of them. And begin the real count down to the desolation. This would also allow the three kids to go off and do shit because they are assumed to be dead during the raid. It honestly doesn’t make much sense for Adolin to be there but Idk it feels like there is more to be done with his character that can’t be done if he’s just stuck in the camps.

Also don’t come at me if the names are spelt wrong I’ve been using the audiobook so idk I’m kinda sounding all of this shit out. You might have noticed I refused to say the name of the actually like city of the radiances because I’m not even gonna try and do that one.

[ekletia]

The crazy idea is continued....

Ancient Gateway and the shadow trone (What if...?)

Previous Post: I told you my theory about fuel weaving.That he could really be the gatekeeper.

Originally, this post was supposed to be about the gate, but I thought it was important to talk about the throne itself.

Ancient gateway and Charlie

It will be the ancient gateway itself. It is possible that one person. I mean, he's conscious and he's awfully strong.

The gate is like the moon. The moon is also a separate person from another entity. The moon is connected to certain things.

The biggest evidence of this is the animated video when charlie fixes the gate, but it looks at the queen and closes back.

And then the holes in the cave system got bigger and there were vortexes. And from these holes appear much stronger shadows, which are probably evoked by the gate itself. Since each of these holes can be connected to the gate itself.

Charlie, at this point, must have been very, very angry that the gate was closed. In this way, they cannot use their power. You can't fix the mirror.

What if there's only one way to use the power of the gate?

Cyclum's cane may be the only way to use the gate's power. Since charlie went to the gate without the cane. So she probably doesn't have. What if the cane cyclum only knows where it is. But if we start from the theory that wilson is the ancient king, then that knowledge has long been lost.

But if we assume that the king went to another world and reincarnated. Then it is possible that the cane itself is hidden in the real world.

The past?

In the past, we have seen that the king overused the power of the gate, and the gate turned against them. When everyone became shadowy creatures. Not only ancient civilizations were transformed into shadows, but also minerals and food. That is, everything connected with the power of the gate, since the food, the minerals, the tools were created using the power of the gate. Because of this connection, the gate could influence these beings.

The torch has the power of the moon while the cane has the power of the shadows. Metheus then, for some reason, got into a mirror and the broken. In my mind, the end of the history of ancient civilization has raised many questions. I couldn’t find answers to these questions.

Questions:

If Metheus fought against the darkness that the king unleashed on the people, what made him evil now? - Okay, maybe I just know the answer. - It was the power of darkness itself that changed his mind and probably made her evil.

If she possessed the power of light in the torch, she could have avoided being corrupted by darkness. Only if she used the power of the torch to protect the king from total darkness. On the previous page we saw that Cyclon's eyes became dark, which may mean that he received shadow power, but because of the power of the torch, the transformation process did not go through. We know that the Metheus has turned into a shadow, which proves that the torch could actually only have saved one person. Metheus sacrificed himself and became evil. What if she fought with Cyclon? And then, as a result of the fight, he broke the gate?And you couldn't beat metheus in any other way just by locking him in a mirror? Then the sad king sits on his throne.

The throne in the picture may be proof that he has shadow power and is able to use it. Why?

For he who has no power of shadow shall be held captive.It is worth going through the examples of those who sat on the throne.

Maxwell

Maxwell is a man with no shadow power. He's a wizard who uses the book. In this universe, wizards can be divided into two groups. Object users and those who do not use objects. (For those who do not use objects, they already have some magical power.)

Then, my theory is that since maxwell doesn't have shadow power in the first place. For this reason, the throne chained him to himself. You can use the power of the throne. And this proves that Maxwell does not rule over the throne, but the throne rules over it. It also means that he was only slightly changed by the throne, but what the shadows wanted from him probably fulfilled. Especially since wilson was the last one he kidnapped to the permanent. Since the shadows probably want Wilson.

Charlie

Charlie is different. Because a person who has received shadow power from Metheus. Which also means she's changed his personality . Because of the power she received and could use it. She was able to control the throne. She also changed the appearance of the throne.

Why is this important to the ancient king?

Because if the ancient king did not have shadow power and could not use it. Then the throne would have chained him to himself like Maxwelt. The ancient king have shadow power. That's why the throne looks a little different. The king changed his appearance.

and since the throne did not bind the king he was able to go to another world. What if, in the real world, the king made friends with people?

The king may have told people about his own world. There may be people who are aware of the constant.

Eg: Wickedbotton, Wanda

Is it possible that the cane is being taken care of by someone so initiated?

We have already seen in one of the animated videos that you can travel with a broken ancient gate. When the survivors traveled to the world of forge. The power of the gate was uncontrollable. Because only the cane can control its power.

What if the last time the king used the broken gate was to travel to another world?

What if the shadows were chasing the king? And then the shadows that chased him locked him in a book? Is that how the codex umbra came about? That would explain what a book like this is doing in the real world. Full of knowledge that comes from the constant. Persecution may even explain why the king had to reincarnate. He may have been reincarnated because he didn’t want to die.

I also found sentences that could prove that the ancient king actually wilson.

You see this well for the first time, but you already know how it works.

Workin again.... - The end of the sentence strongly suggests that in the past this tool worked very well. It would be good if it worked again. But the character himself doesn't really know why he's saying that, so he stops saying the sentence and just stops.

Strongest urge - This sentence basically tells you how the machine itself works. Do you have a strong urge to do this because you’ve done it a lot in the past? And then that feeling just stayed in your subconscious?

This is a very good way to show how confused Wilson is. Very happy at the beginning of the sentence. Finally, we have the knowledge to build this structure. But then he follows a phrase that somehow makes me very, very familiar. Why would he be familiar with a ancient old machine? Did you put that together before?

and finally the gardener's hat. At first glance there is nothing special about it. Everyone is fooling with him. But the garden hat was originally invented by Wilson. Then, if Wilson invented this device, why is it possible to create one at the ruins? (I know from a playful point of view it's just an unnecessary update. But if you look at the story itself, you can back up something very important.)

And I think Wendy’s point is that there’s something wrong. Because the ancient gardeneer's hat is familiar to him for some reason. Can be a child character and what she says is not 100% sure.

But we know who invented the gardeneer hat. Wilson built this before they went down to the ruins.

And these sentences only support my theory that Wilson is the ancient king.

This is my crazy idea. What if...?

[applestorms]

DN ask game: how about 18 and 23 (23 I will amend to 'one of your current favourite moments,' in case you are me and hate choosing favourites in any kind of absolute way haha)

CACKLES oh you know me so well =3=" original ask game

18. what do you think about Wammy’s House?

MY GOD. what do i NOT think about wammy's house. i feel like i've already talked a bit on wammy's house in Various Essays, but i suppose to coagulate some of those kinda random thoughts...

it Fucks those kids up. by nature of what wammy's house Is, i don't think it's possible for a single kid to get through it w/o getting at least a little fucked up. that goddamn orphanage is releasing a Storm of incredible messed up little geniuses on the world and the world will never recover. you can't create a fucking organization based around concepts like Live Up To The World's Greatest Detective or Never Ever Use Your Real Name (guess that's probably KIRA motivated, but still) without screwing over the sense of identity of an entire generation. nobody's doin it like them fr.

i really really really like the idea that people toss around about KIRA = god of the new world, therefore -> L = god of the old world, and i think wammy's house maps onto that idea super well as a kind of cult of the old god. something something greco-roman mystery cults, L as a void player homestuck classpect-wise, the Secrets and Idolization inherent to that entire entity. oh yeah it's all comin together rubs my hands eviley.

i saw someone say the LABB murders novel was bad the other day and almost cried because i personally Adore that book, for the additional naomi characterization + beyond moments yes, but also for the extra lore it establishes about wammy's and L more generally. having actual Generations within the house is so fucking fascinating by how you can break it down, especially when you try to fit L into it and maybe have a generation where he was interacting with the other kids during his kinda Rise to Power. i definitely think beyond and L interacted quite extensively at the very least (headcanon basis for that mostly, i just like the idea + it explains why he even got the idea to emulate him so closely), and the existence of A in and of itself is such a fascinating mystery, i love seeing how people mess with the idea of them in different ways.

also everyone go read heirs and spares for fantastic light-at-wammy's house content that almost reads like some of the best earliest parts of the promised neverland and also has some great L and light childhood worsties content. go go

also kira bless time speaks for writing that entire timeline where light and L go live at wammy's and traumatize mello w/ their horrible terrible flirting that is fucking saving me. i am so Desperate for more lawlight interacting with wammy's content i have no idea why that sets my brain off so bad but it Just Does. etc etc L negligent parent King for the win, i need to see near and L have the most horrible terrible psychological battles monologuing so loud it stinks up the entire damn room while mello and light are beating each other with bats in the background. please. lord.

also also roger's characterization in the seals are good series is unironically my accepted characterization for him now whoops. btw i don't think i have many Deep Thoughts on watari, he's kinda just a shitty old man philanthropist to me :/ though i do find him more interesting and Paternalistic with a good L genderbend.........

23. what was your favorite moment and why?

you said current favorite so honestly... ok i'll limit myself to two.

FAVORITE SCENE OF ALL TIME: LIGHT DYING. ez. specifically in the manga. there is legitimately no better scene in the entire series. this fucking panel haunts my dreams it's so goddamn Good

there is nothing i love more in this world than watching light yagami bloody and pathetic crawling on the floor and begging for his life only to die like every other criminal he killed. his fear is so Palpable it literally makes me sick. i've read this final sequence, like ch.105-107 but especially this last bit so many goddamn times istg it's burned into my eyelids LIGHT YAGAMIIIIIIII. also his laugh in the anime is fucking incredible in both dubs 10/10 no notes you killed it fellas

FAVORITE SCENE AT THIS MOMENT: been thinking a Lot about both naomi and matsuda lately and their various notable scenes, oddly. i think i need to reread his entire comedy of errors during yotsuba again alskjfskjd and also check out naomi's death again esp in conjunction with LABB murder stuff?? idk. they're both characters that i feel i haven't talked much about (also kiyomi, thought i've been getting Thoughts on her LMFAO thank you forever @kiyomitakada) so i wanna get my image of them cleared up more in my head. also all of the SPK too, halle especially. damn i guess that's a whole lot of moments actually :P WHATEVER.

anyways ty for the ask <33

[hyperpotamianarch]

One of my favourite fanfictions ever is Dæmorphing, by Poetry (@featherquillpen on tumblr, hopefully you don't mind the tag). And I have given some thoughts as to the question why I liked it so much, since this could give me a hint as to what to look for next in my fics. I don't really have a definitive answer, but I do already have a couple of ideas.

There are two basic points I think may have been essential to why I liked Dæmorphing: one, how well it presented the non-human species and gave them characteristic, helping me to see the personhood of even the Yeerks; and two, how well it fuses the worldbuilding of His Dark Materials into Animorphs, almost seamlessly, making me think that in hindsight, the implementation of this element from HDM seems the most rational thing.

The former of those gave me the beginning of an idea for a recursive fanfic about Mulefa living on a different planet in the Daemorphing universe. Currently, this idea is going nowhere, and technically I didn't get greenlight from Poetry to publish it even if it was already written. So for now, I'll just put this aside. However, some weird thoughts about the nature of fusion fics led me to think of a fanfic that will do the reverse of what Dæmorphing is - instead of being Animorphs with HDM worldbuilding inserted, being HDM with some Animorphs details implemented. Is this possible? I don't know, let's see how many random nonsensical ideas I'll manage to pull off.

By nature, His Dark Materials is a story about the loss of innocence. It also has a huge battle-at-the-end-of-days, but it's explicitly background. There are Good and Evil sides, even if they're flipped from the traditional religious view (think demiurge, only he didn't actually create anything). And while both sides have proven that they aren't as Good as they claim to be, I think there is clear bias towards Lord Asriel's cause (though I don't think it's the most interesting thing about these books by far).

There is also an inherent difference between Animorphs and HDM in that Animorphs is serialized. This allows a start filled with a couple of separate episodes that only slowly grow to an overarching series. Also, Animorphs has a very clear endgame: the series must end with the defeat of the Yeerk empire and saving Earth, and the ending arch has to start with the Animorphs identities being found out. Or, well, you can drag it a bit more, but those are essential events. HDM, on the other hand, has more of an element of mystery ("eventually she would know more about Dust than everyone in the world", indicating this is to be Lyra's journey; but also the GOBblers and what's going on with them; who is the man who stole Lyra's Alethiometer and what is the Subtle Knife, and what is the prophecy about Lyra), though it doesn't have one clear quest throughout.

Lyra's quest starts with wanting to see more of the world and learn about Dust; then it becomes saving the children from the Gobblers; then she wants to go see her father and give him the Alethiometer (which she started assuming along the way was her main quest all along), and if it means overthrowing the King of the Armored Bears so be it; then she decides her quest is to save Dust, because all the wicked people hate it. That summarizes her quests for book 1 alone, but doesn't really summarize the book itself, but maybe we'll start with this odd concept: Dust is, after all, central to the plot of the book, and if Dæmorphing managed to insert severing of dæmons into Animorphs... it can work.

So... random ideas:

The Master of Jordan College and Lord Asriel are both the equivalent of Andalites. Are they actually Andalites? Are they maybe regular humans from a super advanced society or something? Am I speaking rubbish? Well, I think I can answer the latter myself, thank you.

Mrs. Coulter and the Oblation Board are a cover to the Yeerk invasion. Possibly the Magisterium at large is - though it's too powerful an organization, so it's probably only infiltrated by Yeerks.

The Master either gives Lyra an Escafil device in place of or alongside the Alethiometer. Either way, in this universe the Escafil device has much more to do with Dust.

How is that? Well, perhaps it functions on swapping the human and their dæmon. After all, the reason a dæmon settled as a predatory animal isn't that much of an advantage in a fight is because they can't attack humans. They can attack other dæmons, which is a power unto itself I suppose, but of only one side has access to this swapping technology...

That would probably mean it's especially useful for children, which I think might work with the overall themes of HDM - though there might be another difference, where even if it's not easy and is done differently, it's possible for an adult to relearn how to use it.

It may also be required to serve as the same sort of plot device that the Alethiometer was in the original HDM; maybe something about this swap allows one to read things in the Dust or something, if the usage is as limited as the Alethiometer's was in the original it could also be interesting.

The Gyptians don't necessarily know about the Yeerks, but they know something smells.

The severence is done in order to weaken children to be future hosts; it works only partially, and not well.

The Armored Bears stay the same, maybe Iufor is a voluntary host or something, though that would create a host of more problems.

Lord Asriel was not infested in captivity. If you want to add the Abomination anywhere you'll probably have to consider deeply who can randomly become an Andalite and whether this actually makes any kind of sense.

Both sides are bad is something both Animorphs and Northern Lights/the Golden Compass agree on, to a degree. I think equating Lord Asriel's side to the Andalites doesn't work becuase the former purport to fight for the betterment of humankind without sarificing more than one civilian. The Andalites are willing to completely destroy Earth to defeat the Yeerks. It's true that both Asriel and the Adalites supposedly focus on the big picture, but... well, actually Asriel was never persuaded that the problem on his own world is something that needs direct attention. And in the end, building "the Republic of Heavens" is more of a spiritual struggle than a physical one. There are quite a few differences.

This should probably have not seen the light of day.

Thank goodness it's night here and I'm bored enough to actually publish this.

Thank you for reading if you managed to get this far.

[hamilvette]

Now, because I don't want y'all to think I see Magnífico as some kind of awful parent-monster

Reasons I think Magnífico would be thrilled of having a child

I'll try to make this less of a ramble and more organised this time around. So I'll go by stages.

Before the arrival of the child

Pregnancy; if his significant other and himself can have a child this way:

Even if at first he can be joyful of the idea or having an heir if their partner also wants that too, it would probably be such a far away concept, but the moment he sees the bump he'll be amazed.

I can imagine him being with his partner like: wow, you're actually creating something magic can't ever compete with: a life. That's amazing, and your body does it by itself!

And the first time he gets to talk to the bump and the baby responds with movement, Magnífico would be absolutely ecstatic. He wouldn't cease to talk or sing to his partner's belly just to feel or see movement, much to his partner's amusement or tiredness. But he can't help but get a heavy sense of pride in watching their baby react to his voice more than to anyone else's.

He would spend days and nights coming to his partner with suggestions for names until they settle in one they like. I'm thinking he wouldn't want to call a son "Magnífico II" cuz he likes being special, and would want his son to be special too, haha.

If his partner and himself decide to adopt a child:

Magnífico would probably just do it if he feels like it's right. Maybe he gets to know a child that has lost its parents and can't help himself but empathize with them, so he would want to help them to have a better life and decide to take them under his wing and guidance. Depending on their age, the bond would develop either slowly or quickly.

Now, when a baby arrives:

The first time he holds the baby into his arms, he will probably cry. He'll be amazed at how tiny a baby is, and would swear to protect them at all costs 🩵.

He will always be proud of having a baby. Like: this is my child, and everyone must adore him as much as I do, but no one will ever love him as much as I and my partner do. I can picture him holding the baby to introduce them to his kingdom like Rafiki held Simba in the Lion King, LOL.

Magnífico may feel like this is his second chance at having a family like the one he lost, and even if it's not the same, he'd still cherish the opportunity of having a new family.

As much as he and his partner might be stressed about constant crying and both terrified of hurting their baby, they would like whenever the baby cuddles with them, or when the baby gives soft cooes of happiness. Those memories Magnífico will forever cherish.

He would probably try to make a baby mobile for their crib by himself. Not with his bare hands, but with the aid of magic. He'll do something like a modern mobile, but in those years? Absolute magic: maybe a stars and roses themed, or a planet and stars themed, with music and faint lights.

Having a toddler:

Magnífico will absolutely adore seeing a big eyed toddler looking up at him like he's the center of the world. His ego and love will grow so big it might hurt, but he adores talking to an attentive toddler that babbles back in interest of what he's rambling about.

He would feel so good of hearing laughter from his child, so he would be willing to amuse them with magic tricks, feeling prideful like a peacock whenever the child claps at anything they find amusing

Even if he's occupied being king of Rosas, whenever he has time, he'll like to take his child with him and teach him how "important daddy is."

Magnífico would probably read a lot of books to the child. I consider Magnífico to be a bookworm himself, so he would like to teach his kid the same passion for knowledge. Probably would start with fairytales and things to explore and expand the baby's imagination, but then it won't be such a surprise to find him reading out loud books of alchemy, of basic magic or astrology.

Magnífico would find amusing whenever the child is trying to say a complicated word. Like, he knows and can see the baby is trying, but it's just a baby and finds it hilarious to try to replicate a long word only to come up with gibberish.

He would also find it amusing when the child learns to walk. Seeing such a little thing trying to follow his steps as he walks around in his studio will always make him chuckle.

Magnífico loves his child's laughter, and dreads their cries. Whenever he hears them cry, his heart breaks a little and comes in overprotective mode. He would have such a hard time accepting that he can't just protect his child from everything they find scary.

However, I don't think he's good at consolations/reassurance. He would rather distract the attention of the child than just hold them while they cry.

With a child:

Magnífico will like playing around. Like: magic tricks everywhere, playing hide and seek in the gardens. A lot of joyful shrieks and laughter might be heard as Magnífico decides to "terrorise" his child with a wild chase around the castle.

Magnífico will be THRILLED when his child asks him to teach them how to do magic. He wants to have the attention and as well teach his child how to wield magic.

He'll bond a lot with his child by teaching them magic. However, he might be a little impatient if his child doesn't take it seriously. He needs them to understand that magic is both a blessing and a curse, not only to do fairy lights.

His patience might wear too thin in magic related things, but will always try to make amends if he ever crosses a line. Magnífico might not apologise per se cuz he's narcissistic and prideful, but would try to make things right.

He would probably grow fond of pillow fights and tea parties, even if with his partner he tries to act as he's just obliged to comply.

Magnífico doesn't like being questioned, however, understanding that a child doesn't know everything beforehand, he'll do his best to satiate curiosity without ever giving away too many details.

And I'm not going to put how it'll be with a teenager cuz in that stage his relationship with his child would probably become weary.

So that's it. I might come around with some other nonsense, but this is my hot take on Magnífico as a parent.

[wimbledon2008]

so i just finished the captive prince series about a week ago and am rereading it now. just finished the hello lover scene and honestly im still so confused over what's going on in laurent's head lmao like??

was he previously compartmentalizing his resentment so well that real feelings developed, but now he finally has a chance to truly let his anger out, he's locking down the positive feelings?

was he being truthful about manipulating damen the whole time (highly unlikely to me)? or was the cruelty in and of itself a play, either to push damen away despite not actually wanting to, or some other convoluted reason? bc damen really would have done anything he asked, trying to outmaneuver him like that was unnecessary.

my first theory feels the most right to me, and he just needed more time to process and purge his desire for revenge but idk im a taurus and very akielon coded. i love laurent but i do not understand that man lol

okay, disclaimer, i haven't read the books in quite some time so this probably isn't the fullest or deepest analysis. i welcome any additions or corrections from those who are better at meta than me <3

so the hello lover scene is incredibly complex and nuanced, a standard of pacat's writing that makes his works so infinitely re-readable. based on my personal understanding of the scene, there are a few key things that help to explain why laurent behaves the way he does in the tent scene:

1. laurent needs damen and the akielons to win against his uncle, which he very much wants to do. charcy didn't go how he'd originally planned, and he knows damen is pissed about it and probably thinks the worst of laurent right now - that he intentionally abandoned the akielons at charcy for his own purposes. so laurent is being manipulative; he is trying to outmaneuver damen. because what damen says is true: laurent has no allies, no friends, he's ruined his reputation by aligning himself with akielos, etc. we as the readers know that damen cares deeply for laurent and wouldn't just abandon him, and if laurent simply explained what happened and asked damen to help him, damen wouldn't hesitate to stay at his side. but laurent doesn't think damen has any reason to trust him, so laurent can't trust damen either. so instead of being honest, he chooses to be cold-blooded, to assert control over the situation and force damen's hand to ensure that the alliance he worked so hard to establish stays intact. he could've just asked, but this is laurent, and there are other factors at play, such as the fact that

2. laurent is already in love with damen by the tent scene, or at least most of the way there. but laurent can no longer pretend damen is anyone other than the person who killed his brother. damen walks into that tent as prince damianos, in full akielon regalia, covered in blood, with a sword. laurent has been doing some aggressive compartmentalizing, especially in order to have allowed himself to sleep with damen. who killed his brother, which was the inciting incident that made laurent's life a living hell. laurent has not forgiven damen for auguste, and he's having to really confront that hatred and anger for maybe the first time since the first book. and laurent is also punishing himself for caring for and sleeping with damen, his brother's killer. can you even imagine? it's better not to. laurent probably hates himself as much as he hates damianos in that moment. so he shoves all those glimmering, positive feelings down because he wants to hurt damen, and himself too. and none of this is particularly rational because

3. laurent is very upset at the beginning of king's rising. this is an understatement. he's still reeling from nicaise's death, which he blames himself for, he's losing damen, the only person he trusted, he was recently stabbed, and everything is spiraling out of his tightly held control. and when laurent is upset he's cruel. he's not at his best in the tent scene. he's clinging to his own self-preservation, and he's making it up as he goes along because whatever his original plan was got blown to hell, which is clear because he's saying shit that doesn't even make sense. see, e.g., this post about him allegedly enduring damen's "fumbling attentions" to win a battle he didn't even know about at the time. while laurent is being cold and ruthless to secure his position as best he can (see no. 1), he's also acting from a place of emotion instead of strict rationality, which is how he typically operates, and how he prefers to act. he's on the defensive, he's deeply confused and unable to cope with all of his conflicting feelings about damen, and he's lashing out - protecting himself before damen can hurt him first. and then damen literally sticks his thumb in his stab wound. basically: our boy laurent's going through it in a major way.

going back and re-reading your message i realize i've essentially just reiterated everything you initially said but with a lot of extra words. so i guess the long and short of it is: you're right. honestly there are so many ways to interpret the tent scene and everything else laurent says and does, which is what makes him so fascinating! so thanks for giving me the opportunity to dive back into his psyche for a little while <3

[xjulixred45x]

WISH: the power of Wishes (RE-IMAGINATION)

okay, I know that many people have already done this, but I want to make my own version of this and above all do my bit for Magnífico Stands (the only salvageable character in the entire movie) and instead of just using the original concepts of the work (which is great) i wanted to mix both the concepts that i liked from the final work and the discarded concepts. we'll see.

First of all, Magnifico would not be the villain, nor would Queen Amaya. Is it simply too much to ask for a king/queen who truly cares about their people in a sincere way and does not want to harm them? although there would be a fixed villain. But I'll leave it for later. Asha and her family remain the same, except that Asha never really considered the stories her father told her about the stars as something real and thought it was another way of referring to the Magnificent King's wishes. which encouraged more fanaticism for him. I think Asha would be more studious, not exactly a book eater, but someone who has many hyper fixations and wants to know absolutely everything about those topics that she is passionate about. which causes some distance between her and boys her age. I mean, his clumsiness is a little more justified (maybe he's even neuro divergent? but I'll leave it ambiguous). Thanks to this and her somewhat more theatrical personality (which we see at the beginning of the movie), Asha participates in various activities to help the inhabitants of Rosas. In this way we would be introduced to the utopian way of life of the kingdom and perhaps even to Asha's few friends. I think that of his group of friends the only relevant ones would be Daliah and MAYBE Simon. Daliah would have a disability that makes her use a crutch (as in one of the old concepts) and she is like a book worm, she and Asha probably met because they had many hyperfixations in common. Simon dreams of being a knight of the kingdom, so he and Asha bond by having similar goals and helping each other achieve them. (Asha and Daliah even help Simón train and encourage him 😭Simon helps Asha get jobs). In general they are a fairly united group. then the main plot of the movie begins, Asha wanting to be Magnífico's apprentice, BUT not because of her Grandpa! But she genuinely wants to use magic to make her family's life easier by being just her and her mother (they're not going to put a 90-year-old man to work) and take better care of them. message about family in your face. The entire At All Costs sequence occurs but with a different context, not only does Magnífico open up to Asha but she also opens up and tells the above, that since her father died she feels that she has to do something to improve the life of her family, take care of them as best you can. generating not only empathy on our part but also on Magnifico. thus becoming his official apprentice. (no, here there is no problem with returning the wishes or anything else, because probably having removed the filling it could be explained in more detail why several dangerous wishes should not be fulfilled.

As an extra fact: I like to think that desires can also disappear on their own when they are fulfilled without the need for Magnifico, simply to give it a little more weight)

Asha and her acquaintances are obviously very happy, and proceed to have certain interactions with Queen Amaya, perhaps just giving more lore about her and Magnifico (God knows we needed it) and even about the founding of Rosas itself and the Magic sistem.

I like to thing wish Sistem of Magic is a mix between The Owl House and Harry Potter.

This would be where the villain would be mentioned for the first time (mention, not appearance), who would be the one who destroyed the Old Village of Magnífico. For now I'll just call him Morgan (like, Morgan Le fay). and then there is the matter of the star. It seems to me that both Magnifico and Asha would be interested in this type of magic to prove ancient myths about stars, so they spend several weeks working on ways to "bring" a star to Magnifico's laboratory. First they study in depth Astronomy, alchemy, traditional magic and then they go to the attempts. **funny sequence of all the failed attempts to lower the star from the sky** I think there would come a time where Asha would even stay the night in the castle to be able to investigate Magnífico's books because her attempts failed and they are both super sleepless. There may even be a cute moment where Asha falls asleep in the castle so Amaya and Magnifico give her a blanket and pillow to make her comfortable (these two are so cute, I can't----) and Magnifico, searching for more books, ends up coming across the forbidden book. the book he took from his old town... that belonged to Morgan. Now, I imagined a whole Dr Jekyll and Ms Hyde-like sequence with this(this was so long i'm sorry) Magnífico tempted to use the book, but as soon as he remembers everything that that same book provoked, what that book TOOK FROM him, it goes away, but he starts to reflect, if it is really good to keep that reminder, that constant nightmare, if he does well. and then (perhaps due to lack of sleep or a materialization of the book) Morgan appears. mocking him, laughing at him, like do you really think you will ever be free from what HE did? from all the damage he caused? He will NEVER be free of it. and Magnifico obviously denies this! Morgan should be dead now, this is just a bad dream. but "Morgan" lets him know that as long as he lives he will always be "there." Magnifico only sees it as all the damage he caused, he lets him know, that when he can completely get rid of his book, there will be no trace of it. That he'll be forgotten. Morgan makes it clear that he will never leave him, THAT HE WILL STAY no matter what he says while he struggles with Magnifico for the book.

AND WHEN MAGNIFICO HAS THE BOOK IN HIS HANDS HE SEE IN HIS REFLECTION THAT HE HAS GREEN EYES WHILE MORGAN SAYS THAT HE WILL BLOOM LONG AFTER HE IS GONE IF HE DECIDES TO FOLLOW HIS PATH (use dangerous magic, the star)... Magnificent knows Morgan well, he needs him to survive, he is a PARASITE, he may not be able to control him, but he will definitely rejoice when he knows that Morgan took his last breath. TRAUMA TIME, "Morgan" showing Magnífico a hallucination of how he destroys 1- the kingdom of roses 2- its inhabitants and 3- AMAYA. f for Magnifico. Magnificent, he's had enough of this, he just curses Morgan one last time, sending him to hell and throwing his book into the fire, which rises above his castle with a green flame... MEANWHILE Asha, still half asleep, settles in as she thinks about her failure with the star again, as she looks out the window at the northern stars, and JUST out of habit, she wishes she wished she could have one of those, so she could help people. and ZASSS! Before she realizes it, a great light appears in the room that almost blinds her and when she regains her composure she is a small creature! What a magic dust! A funny moment that my sister came up with for the inclusion of Star Boy is that Asha gave the star a simple nickname "little guy" and the star decided to change shape back into His kind of human boy😅 In any case, Magnífico hears the confusion and, with his adrenaline high, runs to see Asha and discovers a fucking star boy in his palace. He's shocked, obviously, but now he's much more cautious than before (lack of sleep + ptsd). I think it would take a moment with Amaya to calm down a little, remind him that he is not Morgan and that he would never use magic to hurt its habitants, and to get some sleep (another Amaya moment x Magnifico YEY!) Anyway, Asha, Amaya and Magnifico trying to teach Star boy the basics of human culture while figuring out how exactly it works without being too invasive.

But Star Boy dosen't make it easy, being kind of a knew-it-all(a little arrogant?), messing up some of the tries of Magnífico and Asha of get test material. Things like that.

I don't Even think he knows how frágile humans are at the Start, so it would take a little...incident to make him realize that. But definitely flying dust would be something fun 😝 I think Asha would have several moments with Star Boy showing her the kingdom of Rosas, just trying to use his magic for good and teach him human things.

But at the same time is hard with Someone who's never been with humans before, so when he tries to do something that Asha thinks is "good for the people" Star Boy misunderstand and end up doing something wrong, like grouwing too much the tries to the point the people can't reach them to get fruit, turn the water in ice for fun, etc. Her friends join in! but at the same time I think that some (especially Dalilah) would feel half done by having a new new person in the group (who is literally from another world).

Daliah Even Starts ti believe that Star Boy could be kind of dangerous, specially if she ever sees him mad, he literally is making a disaster without intention, what would happen if he DOES have intention?

But Asha tries to ressur her that Star Boy is not malicous, but just naive, and unexpefienced, and he's trying to learn! Trying to be better.

It would be Even better if Someone endup hurt or Asha almost gets hurt so Star Boy Star to realize, well, MORTALITY, and tries to make up what he did wrong And control better His own Magic. With the proper support ofc. which causes Daliah to distance herself a little while Asha and Star boy have their well-deserved romance (at all cost reprise? at all cost reprise) and Simon continues training hard to be a knight.

Daliah feels insecure around Star Boy, even if he is more careful and empathetic now, she definitely got the impression that his magic is dangerous, but does she feel guilty for distrusting Asha like that, for feeling jealous? so he is going to reflect alone.. That's when he runs into Morgan, probably while on the outskirts of Rosas. and in a certain way when they meet they have some worrying interactions. Morgan gets Daliah to tell him that she feels insecure about her friendship with someone and the whole thing, that she feels like someone is dangerous but they don't believe her, etc. Morgan, with a master's degree in Manipulation, tells her something personal to gain her trust, how he used to be seen as similar to where he came from, how he took refuge and distanced himself from everyone because he didn't fit in, how he had to find his own way of standing out, like her. It sounds like a very Evil Like me moment to me. I mean, Morgan manipulating Dalilah in an emotional moment by being passive aggressive and at the same time being "empathetic." You may even not only try to convince him to see his friends differently, but also his desires. Doesn't that seem archaic to you? Don't you think that having someone who fulfills your desires is something horribly selfish? Like? Are people going to learn if there is no pain involved? (a philosophy...valid, but taken to the extreme) Thanks to this, Daliah begins to hang out with her friends less, but with Star Boy around, they don't realize it at first. Star Boy and Asha do some experiments with their magic for Rosas' benefit, with good results, Magnifico is even being friendlier with him and not as tense. everything seems to be going well... but then Magnifico notices that some wishes have... disappeared. and in the distance, you can see a light on the outskirts of Rosas... a green light... oh no, no no no no- it has to be a mistake- a coincidence- The scene is made where help is sought from the town to find the traitor who stole the wishes, the people are worried, and they are attentive. Asha and Star Boy are confused: why would someone steal the wishes if only Magnifico can fulfill them? There is no way to know who it was? How could he get into the palace? Daliah seems especially distressed, it almost seems like she wants to approach Queen Amaya to tell her something. but at the last moment he decides not to and runs away. Asha and Star Boy get worried and go after her, following her through Rosas until they reach the outskirts of the kingdom. and that's when they see it. Morgan. He has his mirror scepter, Daliah is in front of him, tired from running.

Morgan has several orbs around him, stained and withered, it takes Asha a second to realize they are WISHES. THE LOST WISHES, HE WAS INFECTING THEM..

Now, two possible ways this could end. one attached to the film, another more of my own interpretation. The one attached to the movie is that, Morgan uses his powers augmented by wishes and manages to temporarily absorb Star Boy, and with his powers he manages to keep the entire kingdom of Rosas under his thumb. even Mangifico (maybe controlling it and only true love's kiss can break it?). but Asha, using what Magnifico taught her, manages to make a collective spell to summon the star and thus weaken Morgan, allowing the wishes to leave him and Star Boy using his powers/Magnifico to lock him in the mirror of his scepter. My own interpretation would be that Morgan would rather use people's fears, using their Wishes as a base, infecting them and in a certain way controlling them (and taking away vitality from the people of Rosas). that is the source of the power of evil, fear and ignorance. Then the people of Rosas, seeing that they are all weakened and that the wishes make Morgan stronger, decide to give the remaining wishes to Magnifico and Asha, so that they can recover and be able to face Morgan. Just saying that not only do they not need the physical desire for it to be fulfilled, but they will work to make it happen all together, now the COLLECTIVE desire is to defeat the villain. and thus they manage to give a Power Up to both Asha and Magnifico to fight with Morgan and thus free Star Boy, who similarly ends up locking Morgan in the mirror forever. In the end there is almost no wish left intact, Rosas is a mess, but now they have a new aura of optimism, of desire to try, to work to improve, the people decide to help with their own hands instead of just using magic. There could be a time skip for when Rosas is completely rebuilt, there could be more equity in magical and non-magical users, people no longer depend so much on their desires and work as a team with the few sorcerers there are to make everything better. Asha is Magnifico's official successor, so she is crowned princess of Rosas. while Amaya and Mangifico teach new, younger magic users. Simon is a guard, Dahlia found a way to feel complete in her own way (maybe working with Asha's mom) Star Boy and Asha together, as well as Amaya and Magnifico. In general the message would be that there are dreams that are selfish and that can lead to destruction, that should not be pursued. While there are dreams that are sincere but you have to work for them, everything you can, even if you need help to fulfill them, it is up to YOU to make it happen. and like that, this story is over. END

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

This was by long shot the LARGEST work i Ever done, but i hope You guys like it.

[annymation]

What kind of wishes would the other 6 teens make in KOW? I know Simon wished to be a knight, what about everyone else?

Honestly that’s a though one, but let’s see

Gabo as he mentioned in the story itself would wish for a lot of riches and gold, but that desire only stems from his longing to be respected and taken seriously, money can get people to pay attention to you, and that’s all Gabo wants, attention. But since he accidentally said his wish out loud to his friends I’d say he’d change his wish to just “be taken seriously”, to which the king would probably twist into people actually taking offense in his sarcastic jokes which would lead to him being all alone.

(Starting good with some Gabo angst, nice)

Next up, Dahlia. Since her parents became the royal cooks they never payed too much attention to her anymore, and Dahlia wanted to make them proud, so I’m guessing (I say “I’m guessing” like I’m not the one making this up) her wish would be to get more connected with them. Magnifico would probably just think that wish’s boring and not find any way to twist it into something fun for him, so he’d just leave it ungraded, making Dahlia forget she ever wanted to be close to her parents in the first place, thus their whole family just becomes detached from each other.

Let’s see who next… hmmmm

Bazeema would most likely wish to make Rosas prettier with more flowers, that’s kind of her own way of bringing joy to others but in a way she doesn’t have to interact with anyone, she’d basically just wish to be a better at gardening, and of course making the kingdom prettier is always a plus in Magnifico’s book so he’d grant that wish just as is, no reason to change it. Congrats Bazeema you get no angst in your story cause I’m picking favorites

Safi would wish for a pet that doesn’t make him sneeze, since every single animal he ever encounters, cats, dogs, birds and even Valentino triggers his allergies, so he’d just want to have an animal friend, maybe a chicken… I don’t know how Mag would react to this one, like it’s so simple, and I can’t think of any way he could twist it into something bad, so eh guess he’d grant it too, why not

Dang so far only Gabo got his wish turned into a curse, let’s change that

Hal would wish to be a fearless acrobat, like those who pull some amazing stunts that defy physics and put their bodies to the extreme, yeah like that, she wished to do that for the fun and the freedom that it provides and to put a smile on people’s faces. Magnifico would go ahead and curse that wish to make Hal so “fearless” she doesn’t worry about her own limits, after all he’d indeed enjoy having an amazing acrobat as one of the royals entertainers, but where’s the fun if she requires time to rest or fears she might get injured? So yeah she’d get her wish slightly changed so she takes her passion more to the extreme

And finally, Dario. Dario is a complicated one since, the way I see him, he’s content with pretty much everything, aside from the fact his parents would like him to be able to speak, but even then I don’t think he’d wish for the king to give him a voice, as that’s not really something he wants, his friends already understand him, although most other people don’t. However, music is an universal language that brings joy to everyone, so Dario would wish to be a great drummer (even though drums sets didn’t exist back then lol maybe he’d be the first) and Magnifico would probably grant it as is.

I know in these examples Mag granted most of the wishes without changing them but keep in mind that’s still bad since once people have their wishes granted they feel like they owe loyalty to him and also feel more dependent on him.

Sorry for the LOOOONG answer, I got hit by the creativity lightning all of the sudden