#they are the anthropomorphic personification of a magic trick and no I will not be taking questions

[thenightling]

Wednesday is NOT a rip-off of Harry Potter

This is something that I thought should be obvious. In fact I could swear I wrote a post like this over a year ago but apparently (if I had made such a post) it is lost now. So here's the new one. Lately I've seen a fresh spike in people insisting that the Netflix series Wednesday is a "rip off" of Harry Potter. "It the aesthetic is Harry Potter!" Really? How? Do you think Harry Potter was the first and only school to be a haunted castle? I guess you don't remember Gravedale High (animated series from 1990). Much like the modern Monster High, Gavedale high was a show about a school of monsters.

Before Gravedale High there was the animated TV movie Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School (1988) where Shaggy got a job as a PE teacher at a boarding school for the daughters of the classic movie monsters. This, very likely, inspired Monster High.

And before that there was the book series The Worst Witch and the first TV movie inspired by the books, which featured a song number from Tim Curry. This was about a little girl attending Witch School.

If we go back even further the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker has Van Helsing suggest that Dracula attended Scholomance (translates to "School of Magic") which has its roots in Eastern European folklore and helped inspire Yennefer's backstory in The Witcher. All of these pre-date Harry Potter. "But the students are divided into groups just like in Harry Potter." Yeah. So? "Houses" are a tradition in boarding schools in the UK and parts of the US. Also Nevermore Academy in Wednesday is mostly populated by supernatural entities that divide up in cliques based on what species the student is. You're going to tell me your school didn't have cliques? Jocks, nerds, Goths, rich kids, bad boys, etc. I'm not sure how a boarding school setting can even be done without dividing up into factions. You'd have to make a conscious effort to avoid it and it would come off as very awkward and unnatural. Harry Potter isn't as original as you seem to think it is. "But the uniforms have stripes." Okay, I'll let you have that one but the stripes and color patterns are different. The plotline of season 1 of Wednesday is closer to the live action Monster High musical movie (but with a more serious tone) than anything else. In the first Monster High live action movie the main villain turns out to be a teacher who is also a Hyde monster. In Wednesday the main villain is a teacher who is manipulating a Hyde Monster.

And both deal with classic monsters in a boarding school setting and allegories of prejudice.

And then you get the annoying argument from fake Addams Family fans of "But Wednesday didn't have any powers in the original." Oh, on the contrary. The new show says she inherited psychic abilities from Morticia. Morticia telling fortunes, sensing things, and even using a crystal ball comes up in the 1960s Addams Family TV series. Grandmama uses a crystal ball in the 90s Addams Family animated series. The 1970s Addams Family Halloween special has it that the spirit of Halloween / Anthropomorphic personification of Halloween "Uncle Shy" (implied to be the Great Pumpkin or you can retroactively say he was Jack Skellington or Sam from Trick 'r Treat). When your Uncle is literally the spirit of Halloween your family can have whatever you want in it. Wednesday even uses telepathy at one point in the 2019 Addams family animated movie franchise. And there's a conga line of Addams Family member ghosts in The Addams Family Broadway musical. They have a pet sentient hand. And no. It's not just that "Their Goth game is that good." Finally, I don't think there's a student at Nevermore Academy who is younger than sixteen. Hogwarts starts at age eleven. Twenty-one-year-old Jenna Ortega (Wednesday) doesn't look much like eleven-year-old to seventeen-year-old Daniel Radcliffe to me.

Stop giving J. K. Rowling so much credit.

[thelandswemadeofpaper]

Vessels

Familial Body Snatcher

Raised as a Host

Possession

Fusion

Custom Build Host

Willing Channeler

Synchronization/Fusion

Evil Alter Ego

Heroic Host

Enemy Within/Without

Many Spirits Inside of One

Swallow/Eat the Artefact/Object

Body Switch (with animals? people?)

Symbiote

Sealed Inside a Person-Shaped Can

Treasure Chest Cavity/Person of Holding

Of a McGuffin? Of Energy? A Special Power? A Abstract Concept? Like Angra Mainyu?

Transfer Consciousness into Another Body (robot? artifical one?)

In Other Form

Human All Along

Reincarnation

Amnesic God

Angel Unaware

God Was My Co-Pilot

Reforged into a Minion

Anthropomorphic Personification

Forced Transformation

Non-Human Lover/Friend Reveal

Human Disguise

After being defeated? For safety? Hidding?Punishment? Mission? Injured/Healing? Accident? Sealed? Cursed?

To be a Hero? A Ruler? Befriend or Protect or Spy on a person? To Help the Humans or Your People? For Love? Wanting a Normal Life? You had descendants? Are people aware of your real nature?

A Evil One: To Trick? Evil Advisor situation? Mentor? Something like Ursula or Ariel? Or Chelsea from Ruby Gillman? Or Spectra from DP?

You have an mysterious protector since childhood. A Not So Imaginary Friend?

Ascended/Deity of Human Origin

Transformation (in an animal? plant? elements? monster? Of claimship/servitude? power/position?)

Shapeshifter

Werebeast

Magic Enhancement

Transhuman Abomination

Emergency Transformation

Involuntary Shapeshifting/Forced Transformation

A animal shapeshifter decides to live as a animals in the woods for a few years.

Was Once a Man (if you want to specify, a thing/familiar/animal/monster is reveled to be a dead or missing character. Or they turned into a child).

Identity

Fake Identity

Alter Ego

Mutual Masquerade

Collective Identity

Civillian/Normal Identity

Beneath the Mask

King Incognito

Doppelgänger

It Was You/Me all Along

Actually, I Am Him

Split at Birth

Shared Identity

Literal Split Personality: different 'parts' of a person (rejected? lost? split?)

Becoming the Mask (false friend?amnesic? imposter? fake redemption? infiltration? other form?)

Jekyll & Hyde/The Killer in Me/Alternate Identity Amnesia (Or having two identities at the same time without knowing)

Secret Identity (for what? To help the other side? To do something forbidden? Independence? Take part in a Tourney or Competition?). Double Agent, Fake Death, False Friend and Evil Advisor can have this.

Unknown Acquaintance. Someone who knows you but you don't remember them (An villain? You were friends or enemies on the past? Amnesic? Forgotten First Meeting? A long lost relative?).

The Same Person (at same time? A character's Absent Parent is the Evil Emperor? The Missing Heir is the Hero? Or is a past thing? Former Life? The Mentor used to be the Villain? Or a Figure from a Legendary Tale is actually the person who told you the story? The Beloved Ruler and the Villain are the same? Two Aliases, One Character?)

You are forced into a New Identity? You have to abandon your old life behind? Pretend like you never were, well, you. Or they can just make up a Fake Backstory? With Lies and a Fake Reveal? Like...you have to pretend you are the hidden long lost child of the Evil King (perhaps even at his own orders? Did the child even existed?).

Memory

Fake Memory

Brainwashed

Hallucinations and Dreams

Forgotten/Remembered

Madness and Asylum are interesting paths too.

Amnesic Liar

Amnesic Lover

Amnesic Hero

Memory Jar

Amnesic Dissonance

Memory Gambit

Amnesiac Villain Joins the Heroes

An childhood accident that you cannot remember

Amnesic/Good all Along (when you have amnesia, friends can be mistaken for enemies)

Living a False Identity (Hidden? Brainwashed? Unware Amnesic? In Enemy's Hands?)

The only witness or survivor of a tragedy has amnesia (conveniently? unconscious? Some people may try to 'help' them).

Or a group/person did something (created? ritual?) and got their minds erased after.

A knowledge/information being erased from a character's mind.

A person erased from everyone's minds or just erased from a specific person or group.

Backstory Invader (a mindfucker makes people believe they belong here all along/are their friend)

[bates--boy]

5 Pieces of Fiction that Influenced You as a Writer and Why?

The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin Really, anything written by Jemisin, but particularly this book because its plot sort of resembles Hetalia -- avatars of lands (major cities and boroughs in this case) who develop immortality and coming together in a war. However, there is just soooo much going into this story, like an alien creature who uses white supremacy and gentrification to try to defeat the heroes, awesome superpowers, and tiny elements of hip-hop sprinkled in. Overall, there's this magical realism to this story and a lot of Jemisin's works because of her incredible worldbuilding.

Bojack Horseman Yeah, this show fucked me up, so much so that I'm almost too afraid to give it a rewatch despite really wanting to. It's such a silly premise -- a (literal) one-trick pony becomes a miserable has-been celebrity drowning in booze -- but somewhere along the way, the writers thought, "This show could be so much more" and never looked back. It went from funny horse puns, slapstick comedy, and really uncomfortable bestiality scenes (does it count if the animals are anthropomorphized?) to realistic and even controversial topics like the heartbreak of being infertile, of the public opinion about abortions, and living with depression and other mental illnesses. Then the show dove even darker: generational trauma, the results of untreated disorders, childhood sexual abuse, and drug overdoses.

(So many people failed Sarah Lynn for her entire life! So. Many. People!! And I don't care that they're fictional, I will never forgive any of them!!)

God, did this show hurt, but it showed that people's tics and flaws came from somewhere, and it made me ask myself: so, what made Peter tic? Before this blog's remake, Peter was just a weirdo guy who got into bad moods and wasn't the type of muse to jump into bed with anyone. At first, it was just funny, having this sex-shy but foul-mouthed guy, but then I realized that this had to have come from somewhere. So, I had to look at some of the canon stuff with a new eye, seeing how would being semi-abandoned in a fort miles away from land for most of his childhood affect him as an adult. Why would a person who grew up in a religious setting choose to not only turn away from religion, but hate religion as a concept vehemently? What are the things that happened in the decades that Peter grew up in that broke him and shaped his worldview? The show made me think: which parts of Peter are his eccentric self, and which parts are a cry for help?

Most of all, this show raised the question: what are you going to do about that? Some people delve deeper into addictions, some give up, some find healthier ways to move on from the hurt and start their lives over.

The Invisibles by Grant Morrison It's more like bits and pieces of this series had influenced my writing, rather than the whole story. I mainly borrowed from Lord Fanny (her unabashed love for wild styles and femininity) and Jack Frost (wild child with a love of hip-hop and many other American-centric media). But mostly from Jack Frost, because I love the idea that Peter, who is this personification of rebellion, an underdog, would absolutely love the most counterculture thing in Western society: anti-government, anti-white supremacy rap that makes the upper echelons clutch their pearls. This music that speaks of The Struggle that punk rock simply can't (which, I imagine, is why Jack Frost, a "chav" street punk from a fatherless home who is introduced to readers while he's being arrested and charged, is drawn to the likes of N.W.A).

There's also the fact that, in some way, this series "gave" me permission to go absolutely bonkers with my writing as I want to or see fit. If a guy can write a story about a government/church/alien conspiracy villains poisoning the globe, and the too-cool-for-school counterculture freedom fighters, which includes a genderqueer witch and the reincarnation of Buddha, fighting them, why can't I write something just as off-the-walls wild?

Dessa's discography I'm cheating by saying that, technically, there are stories being told in Dessa's songs. Some of the songs are based on her real life, like "Call Off Your Ghost" and "The Lamb", and others seem to be fictional, like "No Talking Business" and "Sound the Bells". But no matter what, I always come back to her songs when I need inspiration or emotional fuel while writing. Honestly, Dessa's songs had partly inspired The MizFists arc, because I wanted to know what happens if Peter stops self-destructing and uses his love of hip-hop for good? Apparently, a lot happens.

Hetalia by Hidekaz Himaruya At first, I had debated adding this onto the list at all; sure, it's the canon source for the very blog's existence, and one of the reasons I had made an adult!Sealand muse was because I was fascinated by all the potential there could be from the snippets of aged up Sealand Himaruya gave us, but a lot of the time, I feel like my character's deviated from his canon characterization (both his normal age and the bits of his adult portrayal) so much that sometimes, he feels like a whole new character. I had still added it because sometimes, I still draw from the canon to write him as I do now. His canon love for Broadway is why my muse is a performer; his canonical strength of steel is why Peter is able to "tether" to his fort and draw power from it for himself and his daughter. And the way Arthur keeps turning him away and "shooting him down" in canon is why my muse had decided to completely step away from the Kirkland family and lean into the Nordic family even more.

tagged by: @nezumivc103221 Say, thanks!

tagging: @paralianprince @cryingyetcourageous @the-expatriate

[fandom-space-princess]

Sleight of Hand

midam week prompt 7: Magical - related to, using, or resembling magic

Rating: Teen [1.1k words. genre: weird little introspective bit of character study]

Keep your eyes on the mirror, and watch closely for the trick: which face is looking back?

read below the cut, or on AO3

Now you see me:

-----

They're on especially friendly terms with Adam's bathroom mirror.

Post-resurrection, they practice and practice and practice, hours spent studying the face once again shared between them. Michael manifests at his side, watching their doubled expressions so intently in the glass: an angel and a man, each engaged in a determined attempt to perfectly mimic the other. Adam, gaze high and jaw firm, trying on Michael's imperious indifference like an ill-fitting jacket. Michael, softening his eyes and twitching his lips upward into Adam's dimpled smile. Matching posture to mood: he demonstrates how to roll their shoulders, shake out the tension Michael habitually carries (trailing soothing fingers across his back, laughing at the absurdity of teaching an angel to slouch). Michael straightens Adam's spine in turn, gentle nudges to broaden his stance, hold his head up higher (letting him get a feel for the extraplanar pull of wings at their back, how the phantom weight alters Michael's center of gravity).

Speaking in the other's voice comes less naturally. Not simply the differing way they use their shared vocal chords — although Michael's baritone growl scratches at his throat and Adam's mellower pitch rings alien in Michael's mouth (they end up settling somewhere in the middle). They also parrot vocabulary back and forth, fit cadence to idiom until Adam's curiosity and snark fall past Michael's lips with ease, until Michael's measured and decisive tones roll off Adam's tongue.

Practice, practice, practice. Command of their body switched back and forth. He yields control to Michael, retakes it, then gives it up again; sliding past each other and pushing to the surface, eyes locked on the mirror. Until it's as natural as breathing,

(remember to breathe, Adam murmurs, breathe and fidget and let our heart beat. Human things. Remember?)

as natural as flying,

(they're your wings too, Michael whispers back, feel the connection to them. They're a part of you, like your feet, like your eyes. Remember?)

and they can do it without flinching, without tipping their hand. No one would be any the wiser.

Until, little by little, they can pull it off.

Keep your eyes on the mirror, and watch closely for the trick: which face is looking back?

-----

When it comes, it is — very pointedly — an invitation, and not a summons. So different from the Heaven of old.

His return is not greeted with ceremony, but Castiel does meet him at the front gate.

Much has changed in ten short years. Jack has made quick work of his intentions: the structure of the place is altered on a fundamental level, human heavens broken wide, open space where once walls had subdivided. The continuity of the landscape has a malleable, dreamlike quality, and as he watches it reshapes itself in gentle sighing acquiescence around the whims of its inhabitants.

Many angels have been resurrected. Some, Jack has created anew. Their work keeps them busy, a constant background hum of activity. The familiar and unfamiliar alike afford them a wide berth. He follows Castiel where he leads, and allows the air between them to fill with stoic silence.

By and by, Castiel breaks it. "Thank you for coming," he rumbles, picking his way along what for the moment appears as a forest path. "We didn't know if you would. I know we didn't part on the best of terms—"

"That's one way to put it," he replies mildly.

"—but I was hopeful we might be able to move past that."

The path blends seamlessly, with the logic of dreams, into a set of marble steps. Ascending, they find themselves in front of a vast plate-glass window, overlooking what would, on Earth, be a park. Human souls loiter in the warm sunlight, laying back in the grass or sharing quiet conversation. Some stroll idly. One family, atop a hill, picnic in companionable silence.

Castiel continues. "You led us, once. We've done our best with this place, but we're still rebuilding." His eyes follow a young couple, ambling past below. "There is so much to be done. To be frank, we could use any assistance you're willing to give. And..." he glances sideways at Michael, before continuing. "This place was your home, too. If you wanted it to be again, you'd be welcomed."

"This place has a new God, taking considerably better care of it than the old one ever did. It doesn't need a leader."

"True enough," Castiel replies, after a moment. The unacknowledged invitation hangs in the air, but Castiel doesn't press the issue, and for that he feels a small flicker of gratitude.

"If that's all." He takes a single step back, away from the window. "We'll be going. If you want to contact us again, you know how to find us."

Castiel turns to him, then, and furrows his brow. He looks, really looks, at him for the first time since his arrival, gaze searching over his features.

"Am I..." he begins, slowly, comprehension dawning on his face. "... which one of you am I speaking with?"

He tilts his head, fixes Castiel with a gaze that is piercing, but not unkind. "Ask yourself why it matters to you," he replies, and vanishes with a thought.

-----

Now you don't:

-----

There are facets of Michael that no one else will ever see.

The Sword of Heaven had been forged of steely, unyielding certainty. But in learning to don that mask for Michael's sake, Adam has come to realize exactly how little Michael likes wearing it, either. Alone in the dark of their apartment and sheltered by the canopy of massive wings, he finds the truth written in the contours of Michael's face under his tracing fingertips.

"What are you thinking?" he whispers, although he is certain he knows.

That I love you, comes the reply, and Adam murmurs it back across his lips.

"Are you ok?"

Not really. As vulnerable in that moment as he had once been unassailable. But I think... I think I will be. Thank you. For... you know.

What a privilege, to be allowed behind that mask. To touch the gentle spirit underneath.

Adam curls around him, twining long limbs around his own. Presses close into Michael's space, resting their foreheads together. "Thank you for trusting me. With all of it. I know it isn't easy." A soft kiss, barely a whisper across his mouth. He idles fingers along the curve of Michael's cheekbone, the gentle sweep of his shoulder, the column of his throat.

I could say the same to you. Michael catches his hand, draws it back to his face. Presses a kiss to his palm.

"Better together, huh?" Adam smiles, and Michael breathes out a laugh.

Better together. Always.

[barryjeanblues]

taako meets death (again)

(also posted to my ao3)

taako has met two raven queens in his life before now.

well, close enough, at least. most - though not all - of the worlds the starblaster had traveled to had gods, and surprisingly enough, those gods were usually - though not always - strikingly similar to their homeworlds gods. (this was useful, because one of the crews number relied very heavily on a certain nature god for his magic. luckily, the nature or life god of each world always seemed to have a soft spot for little old merle, even if they werent merles traditional cloven-hoofed pan.)

twice, taako had met the death god - someone equivalent to faeruns raven queen. 

this had led to taakos understandable trepidation upon kravitz finally putting his foot down and insisting taako meet his mother boss. 

the first time taako had met a raven queen, she had been… overwhelming. the light of creation had fallen into a forest dedicated to her and her followers, and the head acolyte refused to give the wandering crew the light unless they first received permission from the queen.

the crew had agreed, with no other option, bracing themselves to firmly explain the direness of the situation. surely a goddess would be intelligent enough to understand. 

that raven queen had burst into a forest cleaning in an explosion of black feathers, half illusion, half steel, so that when lup brushed the smoky feathers from her eyes they blurred and dissipated, but when magnus tried the same thing he yelped and brought his hand back bleeding. 

that raven queens laughter had been eerie and echoing, almost but not quite mocking, almost but not quite infectious, almost but not quite joyous. the crew had stood firm and offered their argument, and the queen had given them tests and tokens and bargains and tricky promises with too many clauses and loopholes and at the end of it all the ipres numbers had been halved and the rest were weary and worn as they caught the light of creation and fled with only minutes to spare, the faelike laughter of death following them terribly even through the overwhelming cacophony of the hungers assault. 

that laughter had trailed after them longer, if only in their heads. taako would be making stir fry, planning outfits, swapping merles shampoo for hair-loss potions, when hed have to sit down suddenly and breathe through the musical trills of the raven queens cruel pleasure. it had seemed to bounce in his head the way a rubber ball might, ricocheting off thoughts and feelings until it rolled under a couch to be forgotten about, till some slight movement sent it rolling and bouncing about once more. 

davenport had died in an illusion, thinking he was saving his crew. poor merle had been choked by his own plants, betrayal writ across hos face. barrys skin had grown sickly purple with poison - ten to one odds arent very good odds. taako doesnt forget easily. he decides the goddess of death can go fuck herself. 

the second raven queen taako had met much later in their journey, and taako had met her alone. 

lup and barry had become liches a few cycles back. it was something taako had still been coming to terms with. 

taako loves lup. this is an immutable fact of any and every universe. taako loves lup and lup loves taako and not death or memory or space can separate them, not for long. but seeing your sister die, and then… go beyond death, to twist herself and latch on to a chance that she may never return except in madness and spite - thats a hard thing to grasp, even when she succeeds. taako had still found himself shivering when his sister forgot she had a body again and grabbed a hot pan off the stove, crying out in pain. taako still woke sweating from nightmares in which his sister and his friend flew apart and reformed as cackling red robed horrors of insanity and cruelty, too far for him to reach. 

until that cycle, though, barry and lups choice had only been an asset. 

but some raven queens do not take kindly to anything they see as a perversion of their domain. 

barely a week into that cycle, taako had awoken from the guilty non-elven pleasure of a nap only to find himself in some cold, hard court, fashioned seemingly of steel and silver and concrete, onyx lining the floor and the only color coming from sparse sapphires sparkled throughout the long echoing hall. 

at the end of it - and taako had known his eyes must have played tricks on him, because at first the being at the end of the hall seemed, while large, not much larger than a giant, but when hed called a nervous greeting his voice had echoed so awfully he knew the hall stretched much farther than hed thought and the goddess at the end of it must have been unimaginably huge. 

her eyes had glinted a flinty sapphire in her carven steel face when she ordered him to defend the existence of his sister and his sisters lover. 

taako had tried. he truly, truly had. but while taako is a being of preservation and caution, full of intelligence and cleverness, he is not one of cold hard logic. perhaps lucretia could have convinced this raven queen, the only of their number who had ever been able to grasp true hard reason… but taako doubts it. he had doubted it then and he doubts it even more these days. 

the point is, taako, for all his love for his family and his brilliant wit and devotion (probably, in fact, because of it) taakos arguments couldnt convince that raven queen. she saw past his genuine belief that lup and barry had made a good decision, and into his fears for her, and the goddess of death had based her own argument on those. she won. taako never had a chance. 

he, lup, and barry had woken up in the next cycle, newly resurrected. taako never stops feeling guilty about it. 

so. yes. 

taako is more than a little nervous about meeting the goddess his boyfriend serves so devotedly. but, and youd be hard pressed to convince him to admit it, taako would do anything for kravitz. and despite it all he does actually want to see what the deal is with his sister and his best friends boss, and his patron gods… friend? lover? girlfriend? taako isnt quite sure what fate and death are to each other, but its definitely something.

kravitz lays a warm hand on taakos shoulder, but taako squares them up. he can do this, for fucks sake - hes died a shitton of times, he can meet death. 

the doors open and taakos breath - the only breath in this realm of the dead - catches in his throat.

taako is a die hard istus fan, and shell always be his goddess. but if taako wasnt a taken elf, hed follow the raven queen, he realizes with a startle.

shes beautiful, yes. shes gorgeous, and taakos always been weak for beauty, but hers isnt the cold hard beauty of gemstones and gold, thinks his nimble fingers snatch up and hoard in his endless pockets. the raven queen is beautiful in a way that taako cant describe as anything other than simple.

he cant pin down any features. she has a kind face, gentle hands, bright eyes, but taako can tell she is a goddess because despite staying still the image of her flicks and shifts in his head. at once she seems to have every kind face hes ever seen, even if he doesnt recognize anyone. her hands reach out to comfort him - no more than comfort - but she stands without moving in front of taako and kravitz. her eyes glitter and sparkle and crinkle up with cheerful laughter, except taako isnt entirely sure she has eyes at all, or maybe she has too many. 

he thinks… he thinks maybe she has wings, or maybe theyre arms, or maybe theyre black fabric, draped around and behind and below and above her, shifting with the last breaths of every mortal in the universe. its darkness but its not scary, taako realizes, its solacing, healing, the way that he feels when dusk passes to night and the sky is huge and warm and the brush of lups hand against his as she says goodbye for the night is a relief and a love. 

hello, taako, death says. its lovely to meet you. 

she means it, taako knows. he can tell, somehow. shes just happy to meet him. nothing more, nothing less. 

'oh,' taako says aloud, and kravitz laughs his quiet sweet dorky laugh, and the raven queen laughs too, and its just that. its just a laugh, and its a nice one.

'oh indeed,' kravitz says. 'taako, did you really think id serve a monster or a cruel master?'

'well,' taako replies hesitantly, 'honestly, homie, i kind of thought you were, and id, like, have to start some quest to slay death itself and rescue you.'

the anthropomorphic personification of death laughs again, a note of delight in her tender voice. i like him, my kravitz, she says, good job.

kravitz does the dead-reaper equivalent of blushing. taako grins a little because its very cute. 

'death is different here,' taako hums. 'its… it wasnt like this anywhere else i went. it was cold, or cruel, or empty. i dunno why its different in your world.'

'then i guess we're the lucky ones, huh?' kravitz asks. taako leans up against him and murmurs an agreement. 'its why i love my job so much, why it means so much to me. its not that im some hardass, i just…'

'yea, cha'boy gets it now,' assures taako. 'still.' he looks at the ever-shifting, ever-stable face of death again. 'you better treat my boy kravitz and my lady istus well, capiche? or we will have issues.'

its a deal, taako, the raven queen says, smiling. 

when taako opens his eyes, hes in his home in the material plane, and kravitz is next to him, and theyre both smiling. 

[emperorsfoot]

I have no idea where this came from, but here it is!

After his defeat by the Horde, King Micah is brought before Hordak.

...

King Micah was brought before the Lord of the Horde.

He glared up at the looming figure that was their mysterious Great Adversary.

A thrown wreathed in shadow, upon which sat a form as wraith-like and difficult to make out as the shadows that cloaked him. The only truly visible thing about him were the eyes. Red and glowing. Two embers of crimson coal burning in the dark.

Lord Hordak truly was as terrifying as the stories said.

It was such a rare thing for a person to live up to their reputation. To spite the dire situation he was in, Micah could not help the short clip of a laugh that escaped him. They called it the ‘Evil Horde’, but no one really realized that what they were fighting might actually be a physical embodiment of ‘evil itself’.

“Does something amuse you?” Even the voice that issued from that shadowed throne was dark. Rumbling through the air like the warning clouds of a storm. Low thunder off in the distance, promising worse things to come.

“No.” Micah gave another laugh. This one wasn’t a short clip or a shallow bark. This was actually a true laugh. Almost hysterical. Micah was about to die. Truly. He was absolutely confident that the Evil Lord of the Evil Horde was about to kill him. He had reached the end of his days, his number was up, his candle about to go out, his threat cut, the period at the end of his sentence. There was absolutely nothing to laugh about. “And that’s what’s so funny.”

Those glowing red eyes shifted. One narrowing, the other growing wider. On any other face –not that Micah could see much of a face- he could have called it a look of confusion.

The shadow stood from the throne.

One metal-plated boot appeared on the stairs. Then the second one. The tapered hem of a robe. Metal grieves. Dark blue skin of an exposed thigh. A V-shaped waste band that didn’t quite meet in the middle. A chest with the emblem of the Horde blazing in red. More and more of the Evil Lord came into view as he descended from the throne. A cape whispered around his shoulders, hiding the monster’s arms.

Micah looked up into the face of evil.

Paler than he was expecting. Almost a bone-white. With a square jaw and high cheek-bones. A vertical nasal cavity instead of a nose, more like a bat’s… or a skull’s. Those grown red eyes were rimmed in black. The top of his head almost completely baled apart from a single turft of blue hair, almost like a mohawk. Combed back and smoothed down.

Up close, without the darkness of the dimly lit dais obscuring his features, he still looked like a monster, but also somehow less… unreal. He was not a living shadow, or an anthropomorphic personification of evil. He was just a man.

To spite his dire situation –or perhaps because of his dire situation- Micah smiled. “You’re taller than I expected.”

Micah was used to people being taller than him. Angella was taller than him. But this dark Lord was like a tree! A tower! A sentient spire with no moral compass or regard for other sentient life.

“Your army is defeated, your Rebellion is crushed, and your Princess Alliance is disbanded.” Sharp, predatory teeth, as crimson red as his eyes showed when he spoke. “What is there for you to find humor in?”

And then Micah realized it. It wasn’t seeing his face that made this dark Lord seem less unreal. It wasn’t seeing the body those glowing eyes were attached to make him appear less mythical. It wasn’t the military cut hair, or the exposed skin. With that question Micah realized, this dark Lord, this Commander of the Evil Horde, was afraid. And fear was a mortal emotion. Fear was the most mortal emotion.

Hordak was afraid.

Of what, Micah had no idea. What he said was true. His army had lost. The Princess Alliance was disbanded. Their Rebellion was crushed. The Horde had won. What was there for Hordak to fear?

Micah laughed again.

“Kill me!” He announced. Commanded, actually. “It won’t make a difference. You might have beaten us for now. But we’ll come back. Maybe not any time soon. But eventually. New Princesses, with new powers. A new Alliance. Maybe even some of your own soldiers will defect to our side. Who knows?” He shrugged to spite his bindings.

Those crimson red fangs were bared in a silent snarl.

From somewhere up in the rafters above the throne room, Micah heard his own voice thrown back at him. ‘Who knows? Who knows? Who knows?’

Hordak frowned. “So sure of this, are you?”

Micah smiled. A true smile, of affection. He close his eyes, shutting out the image of the Lord of the Horde and instead calling up a memory of Angella holding baby Glimmer to her breast. His wife. His daughter. The people who mattered most in the world to him. That was the image he wanted behind his eyes when he died. Micah sighed. At peace.

“I have faith in the ones I love.”

No deathblow came.

Micah waited.

He opened on eye, curious. And maybe a little impatient. He was at peace now. He was good to go. What was the hold-up?

Lord Hordak was staring at him. A quizzical, almost confused look on his face. As if the dark Lord did not understand. As if there was suddenly some kind of inexplicable language barrier between them. “Love?”

“Yes.” Micah nodded, not understanding the misunderstanding. Surely physical embodiments of evil had a concept of ‘love’ even if they did not feel it themselves. After all, the opposite of ‘evil’ was not ‘good’ but selflessness, and there was no greater selflessness than love. “I’m ready to die, knowing the ones I love will live.”

“Pathetic.” Hordak seemed unimpressed.

“You’ve never been in love.” It was not an absurd assumption to make. He was, after all, violence and hate given physical form. Evil made flesh.

And then Micah realized something. As much as Lord Hordak was evil made flesh, he was also mortal flesh. And mortal flesh could be influenced by magic. He was the greatest sorcerer to ever live. He could curse the dark Lord. He could place a curse upon pure evil. He might die here, today, now. But Hordak would never be rid of him.

“You will experience love.” Micah announced. Firm and resolute. Feeling the currents of power in the room shift. A subtle movement in the air, like a light breeze from the ventilation systems, but starting from the floor where he knelt and spiraling up around the dark Lord.

Hordak seemed not to notice the change in the wind. He only gave a short snort of derision.

“You will experience love.” Micah said again. “And at the moment of your greatest success, when all you desire is about to be achieved- that love will be taken from you, and you will be broken!” This time, when Micah laughed, there was no humor in it, only malice and vengeance. “Kill me and be cursed!”

Now Hordak felt the energy in the room. The currents of power. Like wind, but they were indoors. He snarled another wordless snarl and called for one of his Force Captains.

“Take him away!” Hordak ordered. “Send him to Beast Island. Let him would-be magician rot in a cell. His parlor tricks have no power here!”

Hordak did not kill King Micah of Brightmoon.

He was not one to believe in silly local superstition like curses, but if he were, one would think that would nullify it. If the terms required King Micah’s death, then the terms were not fulfilled.

But as anyone who studied magic would know, the final part of any spell was only the binding part. Not completing the binding did not erase the Will. And Hordak’s throne room was filled with the sorcerer’s Ill Will.

‘You will experience love. And at the moment of your greatest success, when all you desire is about to be achieved- that love will be taken from you, and you will be broken!’

…

“Who do you think let the Princesses in?”

…

END

[aquitainequeen]

I heed your call!

From the top:

Pale fella in black with the messy hair: Dream of the Endless. Basically the anthropomorphic personification of dreams and dreaming. Billions of years old, imprisoned for the past century, now trying desperately to fix everything that went to shit while he was gone and track down three important artefacts that his captors stole from him.

The fella played by Charles Dance: Roderick Burgess, the guy who captures and imprisons Dream, kicking off the whole story. Which is rather awkward, since he didn't even want Dream to begin with, but rather Dream's older sister...

The lady all in black: Death of the Endless. Basically the decidedly un-Grim Reaper, who flatly refuses to get a scythe. She's there when every single being comes into existence and she'll be there when they finally cease to exist, to comfort them on their way out. She's very loving and friendly to everyone, but lord, her little brother tries her patience sometimes.

The person likewise in black with the cat ears and yellow eyes: Desire of the Endless. The anthropomorphic personification of, you guessed it, desire; not just sexual desire, but the desire for everything you've ever possibly wanted. Dream and Death's younger sibling, they like to play subtle games and either have fun at Dream's expense, or seek to trick him into destroying himself. You know, classic dysfunctional family.

The fella who's always wearing the sunglasses: the Corinthian, a rogue nightmare who fled into the waking world while Dream was out of commission. Now that Dream's free, the Corinthian doesn't plan to go back to the dream world without a fight, since he's been enjoying himself immensely, leaving a trail of mutilated bodies in his wake and inspiring others to follow his example. He has a particular thing for eyes, and particular things for eyes.

The lady with the pointed ears: Lucienne the Librarian, custodian of Dream's immense library, who stayed when so many others fled Dream's realm and is now trying to help him with the aforementioned desperate fixing.

The lady in the white trench coat who snubs Dream: Johanna Constantine, a professional sorcerer and occult detective, who Dream turns to in order to find his pouch of magical sand. She thinks she's seen it all. She's oh so wrong. If the name sounds familiar, she's the ancestor of John Constantine, and also takes his place in this version due to various copyright issues and pure pragmatic adaptation.

The fella hugging the dragon/gargoyle: Cain, the caretaker of the House of Mystery. And yes; he's that Cain, the famous one. (Or perhaps not; the comics get a bit fuzzy about it.) At any rate, he certainly murders his brother Abel a lot, in a vicious and often unwelcome cycle.

The statuesque person in black leather with the wings: Lucifer Morningstar. Exactly what it says on the tin, and one of the few beings in the universe able to scare the spit out of Dream.

The fella sitting in a diner holding a glowing red thing: John Dee, who's spent most of his life in a sanatorium, but has now escaped and plans to reshape the world as he pleases. Because the glowing red thing is actually one of Dream's tools; a ruby that can distort reality, and would be dangerous even in the safest of hands. Which Dee's hands are decidedly not.

The fella with a pumpkin for a head: Mervyn Pumpkinhead. Basically Dream's wise-cracking, cigar smoking janitor. Voiced by Mark Hamill. All hail.

The talking, potentially censored raven: Matthew the Raven. Long story short, he used to be a man, got into a car crash, died while he was in a coma, and agreed to become Dream's avian messenger. Now he's a raven and constantly wondering, for the benefit for the audience, what the actual hell is going on.

so can someone give me the rundown of every character in #thesandman because the costumes, the characters, the lighting, looks amazing, but I have no fucken clue what’s going on

[officialotakudome]

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Wonder Woman 1984 Review

The DC Extended Universe’s latest brings us back to the 80s in Wonder Woman 1984. Returning lead Gal Gadot plays Diana Prince following decades of her role in World War I. While she still takes up the Wonder Woman mantle, Diana now tries to blend in with humankind even taking up anthropology. Upon meeting new co-worker Barbara Ann Minerva the two clash after supernatural forces changes her.

Wonder Woman 1984 is a 2020 superhero film based on the DC character of the same name, it is produced by DC Films and distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures. It is currently in theaters and on a limited 30 day run on HBO Max via subscription.

Editor’s Note: Near complete to complete spoilers for Wonder Woman 1984 may be present within this review.

Gal Gadot returns as Wonder Woman in Wonder Woman 1984.

The sequel to surprise 2017 hit Wonder Woman takes us to the 1980s. Diana while not necessary traumatized by her first experiences with human life during World War I has still had a bit of an effect on her, namely the eventual loss of her lover Steve Trevor. Now mostly adjusted to human living Diana still works as Wonder Woman from within the shadows. After making a new friend at work Diana is put in the middle of a supernatural event led by desperate wanna-be oil tycoon Maxwell Lord that puts the entire world at stake during an already intense Cold War.

Diana Prince still struggles with human life after surviving World War 1 and living another.

THE GOOD: Following a brief look into Diana’s childhood where she’s taught an important lesson about truth and honesty the film begins with Diana stopping a jewelry store in a mall from being robbed. She now works as an anthropologist where she meets her co-worker Barbara a women who’s typically ignored by most but is instantly mesmerized by Diana. The two build a slow burning friendship with one another after the Smithsonian comes into possession of a magical wish granting stone they unknowingly make wishes that are granted; Diana for former lover Steve to return & Barbara to be just like Diana. The two are soon introduced to Maxwell Lord a con-man trying to gain ground from within the oil industry. Maxwell successfully seduces Barbara and takes the stone wishing to become the personification of the stone itself. Having suffered from illness Maxwell slowly gains power and health with each wish he grants. His wishes have a massive cause and effect issue that greatly effects the world for the worst. As Maxwell’s greed consumes him he begins to ignore his only son Alistair which was his most precious treasure. Meanwhile Diana realizes that each wish takes something from the person who made it after reuniting with Steve who’s soul now possesses the body of another man. Diana begins to get weaker and weaker becoming mortal. Barbara on the other hand is gaining strength and immortality coming to find out that Diana is actually Wonder Woman. 

Upon discovering that the stone was made by a trick god and it has a history of destroying civilizations that used it Diana and Steve deduce that Maxwell has become the stone and if necessary they may have to kill him to save the world. Barbara protests and resolves to protect him. Having gotten the President to make a wish allowing Maxwell to make his own he gains control of the world’s broadcasting systems thus turning his ability to grant wishes global. Following a previous fight in the white house Barbara and Diana once again face each other (Diana having given up Steve for her powers to return) this time with Barbara transformed into a powerful anthropomorphic cheetah, Diana now dons the armor of legendary Amazonas Asteria which she found during her travels within the human world. Diana defeats a seemingly lost Barbara and pursues Maxwell who is still accepting wishes. Diana forces Maxwell to see the truth of the damage he’s causing to the world and he renounces his wish while Diana convinces everyone in the world to denounce their wishes as well rid the world of the stone. Sometime later the world begins its recovery process and Diana meets the owner of the body Steve was possessing hinting at a potential relationship. Meanwhile Asteria (played by original Wonder Woman Lynda Carter) is revealed to be alive and living among humans just like Diana. 

Chris Pine (left0 returns as Steve Trevor in Wonder Woman 1984.

Wonder Woman 1984 features an all-star main cast with high level performances. Gal Gadot continues to surprise as the titular character and it’s neat seeing Kristen Wiig back in the spotlight. The eye-popping colors are back in Wonder Woman 1984 and often times improved upon such as the fireworks scene. For that reason alone basing the film within the 80s is brilliant, it was an extremely colorful time period full of vibrancy. Although number in count compared to the first, the action sequences are fun when they’re there. But do go into the film knowing it’s not as action heavy as the previous. 

Long-time Wonder Woman rival Cheetah makes her live-action debut.

THE BAD: Wonder Woman 1984 lacks action compared to the original, but in fairness the first film was based in war times. Granted WW84 is also based within war that being the Cold War, but less so than it’s predecessor. It also suffers from a bit of repeated plot syndrome which sequels often have trouble with when it comes to making magic twice after a strong initial film. The return of Steve is cool but also a bit unnecessary especially so close to the time period where Diana becomes a founding mother of the Justice League. That among other plot points hold Wonder Woman 1984 back from the originality of the first film and it begins to feel redundant. The sequel taking place prior to Diana’s introduction to Bruce would have been a fun take to help bring things closer together. Obviously due to the time period taking place decades before this wasn’t possible.

Charismatic Maxwell Lord’s thirst for power puts the very world at stake.

OVERALL THOUGHTS: Despite a number of delays due to COVID-19 the Wonder Woman sequel finally makes it to theaters and HBO Max subscribers. While the sequel is just as colorful if not more so in many instances as the original it doesn’t really do too much to standout from it. There’s also a distinct lack of action compared to the first film, but if you can ignore it’s few flaws Wonder Woman 1984 is still one of the better DCEU films thanks to the action sequences that are present and strong performances from an ace cast. Otaku Dome gives Wonder Woman 1984 a 70 out of 100.