#trying to figure out how to tag this is my thirteenth reason

[cryptskeep]

To me Mumbo Jumbo is just some dude who was given the lamest superpower ever (British). He has the energy of constantly being in a banana costume. Does this make sense to anyone else?

[wherestoriescomefrom]

yknow what i’ll bite. why do you hate mistborn? i’ve never read it but i’m always here for an impassioned rant about a topic i know nothing about. go right off sis you deserve it

[click on the image for an image description]

@ll-again and anon thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to fulfill my dearest wish. SPOILERS FOR ALL OF MISTBORN, and also lots of criticism, so if you like mistborn please avoid!! block the tag "anti mistborn" and "anti sanderson" to not see this post. You're enjoyed to like this book etc etc.

i promise i'm not like. a professional hater or anything. i started these books because i wanted to try something other than soft-magic fantasies, and a lot of reclists promised me this was some good hardworldbuilding, and also promised me that it was solid political fantasy. and to that end, i didn't hate the first book. it was limited, but it had a fun magic system, which is always a cool thing.

so let's begin. what does the first book promise you, as a reader? you begin with a cool female heroine, rogue class, in an interesting magic system with an oppressive power. a band of misfits gets together to overthrow the king, and face a number of obstacles in the way. since it is a hard magic system, the fascinating things it can do is build on the rules!! which is why when you find out about the eleventh metal, or the thirteenth and fourteenth metal it makes sense. these are supposed to be books of upliftment and excitment, adventure and an interesting take on the hero villain narrative. the main villain was originally a prophesized hero! the heroine has to figure out how to become that hero for everyone! there's a revolution brewing!

to that end, i feel like these books genuinely fail at many counts. the first one is reasonable, but it still has so many problems, mainly because i think sanderson is extremely cynical of the very concept of revolution and affirmative action. he seems to think that revolution isn't possible, because the working classes are too downtrodden and don't believe in change, and don't want to better their own society. he leans very hard on the god figure of kelsier to #inspire people, as if poor working conditions wouldn't be enough to have people organising. like sir, i am begging you to open (1) history book. leaders may emerge in all movements, but most movements begin with the grassroots. i suppose the writer is american, and a mormon, too (i'll get into that later). it gets worse as the books keep going on. in the end of the first book, once revolution has been achieved, they put one of the aristocrats, one of the SLAVERS as an emperor. in later books, the one city that is ruled by skaa is a bad parody of communist russia, complete with redcaps - while the one city ruled by an aristocrat, in the same morals as the original empire is said to have been ruled well. it's like sanderson just doesn't believe in self governance at all??? he really is a "girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep" kinda guy. plus, all the emphasis on needing an army to defeat the emperor................ like i don't know man, maybe all the slaves revolt and cripple the empire, and there's no one to feed the armies of the empire?

which brings me to the second problem: the worldbuilding is... bad. honestly, everyone told me he's a good worldbuilder, that sociology is well written in his books.

there's supposed to be a slave system, in these books, right? and there's supposed to be plantations on which the slaves ("skaa") work, yeah?

reader, i have read all three books. i still don't know what crop the plantations produce.

slave systems don't just come out of nowhere. the transatlantic slave trade that this book seems to be referring to (nevermind the complicated politics of having white people be the skaa) has literally no basis in this book. where is the crop??? hisotrically, cotton production required this much labour for the transatlantic slave trade. what are they producing that requires this much unpaid labour??????????

so many other things stop making sense. i could just keep going on and on, but in a book that promises hard worldbuilding i know remarkably little about the world. none of the economics is ever explained. in a world where the elemental magic system allows people to manipulate metal, you'd think that the people would develop an alternate currency. there is a single mention of armies trained specifically to fight mistborns and mistlings, but they come up in exactly one (1) book, and no one ever tells you what the techniques are to fight against the mistborn. i don't even know what the silhouette of the clothes is. the author says women wear bellshaped dresses, but then vin randomly wears a more modern silhouette with a sheath figure and its never referred to again. we spend two books in the capital city and i have no idea what the layout is, what the city feels like and whether its different from the other cities. we're also expected to just take, at face value, that the empire's power is in uniformity. that everyone has the same language, the same clothes, the same systems of governance. excepting the character of spook, who has a dialect no one can recognise and its not built upon at all, or given any sociological markers for why he speaks differently. i have no sense of the rest of the empire. he doesn't bother telling you about even the skaa traditions or cultures, only promising you they are oppressed. i can assure you, my country was also colonised. between being oppressed, we had shit like festivals and weddings and specific food we like cooking. i don't even know what consists of the central dominance that ellend is trying so hard to control. i don't know how having ash and mist all the time changes their society in any material way whatsoever.

i just don't get it, why did everyone tell me he's good at writing a sociological setting??? why did you all lie to me????

god and it keeps getting worse. we find out that the emperor has an army of 20,000 people. ok fine. we need at least 10k people to counter. alright. bizarre, but okay. second book, one warlord has 50k people. the other warlord has 60k people. sir. where are these people coming from. who is supplying the army??? are the armies consisting of skaa????? who are these people and where do they even come from??? and then, for some reason, the bright idea is to bring the armies together in a prolonged siege, expecting both leaders to be too greedy to get together and annihilate the city. why does all the politicking of the book rely so completely on single people playing off their personalities against each other?? none of these armies ever get together to DO anything, so what was the point? sir i am begging you to please open one (1) history book.

so much of the book is just me feeling blindsided by how bad the politics are. so unrooted in sociology even though the expectation is set up for it. so out of touch and bizarre. i can't even get into the problems with women, because he never even tells you what jobs women have in this world. any officers, soldiers, others??? no??? just some aristocrats and women on plantations. maybe the 50k people army per warlord also has women?? no??? (this is a side note, but a truly horrifying part of this book was when one of the warlords has a mistress who's too old for sex but useful for poisons and it turns out that she's. thirty. fucking over thirty.) and of course, the whole book has a smurfette principle problem - one girl in a gang of boys. i hate to say it, i hope i don't sound like a fool, but out of six named women in the WHOLE series, THREE die. might be four. i've forgotten.

crimes against women aside, this book also has a massive race problem. the terrispeople are coded as non white (never described as non white, mind you), and apparently their whole race is submissive. that's the WHOLE thing. apparently, the emperor was a terrisman and for a convoluted lore reason had to commit genocide against his own people (also if you're reading this book, TWs for genocide and sexual assault). then, if all that isn't bad enough, the skaa - coded SLAVES - are white. AND THEN there is actual justification for their oppression. *grimaces* genetically, in the book, there is justification for their enslavement.

lastly, you'd think the man would try not to redeem his evil emperor, the man who instituted slavery and eradicated the only people who are coded non-white in the whole book - but no. the emperor, rashek, has to be redeemed. why?? for what????? who fucking cares if he was trying to protect the empire from the #EvilGod wasn't he enslaving people??

i feel like i can just keep going. and i'm getting steadily more and more incoherent. but this is also just a lot of bad writing. it doesn't deliver on the promises of lore, either, and its repetitive, with inconsistent characterisation. it's ending is deeply disappointing, and somehow also manages to be transphobic while doing so. large parts of this book are pandering to an invisible mormon propaganda, in almost as hamhanded a fashion as CS Lewis.

in summary. not good. but perhaps it bothers me more that this book is held in such high regard. i feel like i'm missing something, like maybe the world and i read different books. this isn't even campy bad, its BAD bad.

but thank you for indulging me, you two. i spent all morning framing this increasingly incoherent answer. give me two business days if you want me to rant about the other books.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Monsters  -  Eight

Pairing: Dark!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is a man who just wants to do better. But he can’t stop the monster from coming out every now and then. As a last and hopeless attempt at calming The Winter Soldier, SHIELD finds him something they figured would help. An innocent young woman with not a lot going for her. Or, The Winter Soldiers newest victim.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Language, Violence

Word Count: 2.1K

A/n: Hello and welcome back to this shitshow!!!! I have a midterm next week but I wanna write today instead of studying. I’m gonna start up part nine and I want you all to hold onto your pearls cause I’m in the mood to fuck shit up

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!

SORRY IF SOME TAGS ARE FORGOTTEN!!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

Natasha’s chest heaves, her eyes hooded and dark as you pull the thirteenth orgasm from her. Her legs are trembling and her body is covered in sweat, but you have no intention of stopping.

“So, Natty,” you sneer the nickname, eyes hard as you look at her.

“Have you learned your lesson? Are you gonna leave James alone? Or do I need to take more extreme measures?” She glares up at you and you giggle, leaning forward and pulling the gag from her mouth.

She pants openly then spits onto the floor, trying to get the taste of your panties out of her mouth.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you think you can have him. You think you can have James. You think you’re strong enough for him. You’re not! And I am! I’m the only one who can take the pain.” She furrows her brows in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” You chuckle, the sound hard and lacking humour.

“What do you think I’m talking about?! I’m his fucking remedy! I’m the reason he’s so calm! I’m why the monster stays away! I can fucking tame the soldier! Me! Not you! You’ll never be able to tame him like I can!” The pieces slowly click in her mind and she gapes at you.

“He's been taking it out on you, hasn’t he?” You scoff. “He loves me.” She shakes her head, seeing through you.

“He hurts you.” You shrug. “But I can take it. I’m strong enough to handle it.” Her eyes flash down to the long angry scars on your wrists and she raises one eyebrow.

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” Your hand is suddenly wrapped around her throat, squeezing tightly while she struggles to breathe.

“Make another fucking comment. I dare you.” Her eyes stay hard and trained on you, even as her face turns red then blue. You finally let her go and she drops her head forward, coughing and trying desperately to catch her breath.

“You fucking doubt how strong I am... how strong I have to be.... you have no idea what I’ve been through. The shit I've endured. And I’ve only come out stronger because of it.” She scoffs, the sound weak and scratchy.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” An idea pops into your mind and you walk away from her to grab the tablet off of the table across the room. You return, plopping down next to her.

“You really wanna know what I’ve gone through?” She suddenly looks slightly afraid, not liking the fact that she has no idea what you’re going to show her.

You open the tablet and scroll through the files until you find the video you’re looking for.

“You think you know James. You think that you can handle him, that you’re strong enough to take what he dishes out? Fucking tell me that after this.” You push the tablet between her spread legs, the video playing at full volume.

Anger burns in your belly and you watch on the video as Bucky fucks you with a gun. The memories burn the back of your mind and you look at the redhead, watching as tears fill her eyes.

She stares, absolutely hypnotized by the video as she watches the man she thought she knew humiliates you on camera.

Her eyes dart to your face, and suddenly it makes more sense while simultaneously making less sense.

“Why do you love him?” She asks softly. You look at her, the video now acting as background noise.

“Because I’m important to him. He saved me. He cares about me. He needs me. Without me, he’d be alone. He’d be hopeless. James needs me and the soldier needs me. They both need me. I love them because they need me and they take care of me.” She shakes her head, glancing down at the video in time to see him pressing the gun to your head.

“This... this isn’t love.” You raise your eyebrows. “Oh? And what do you know about love? Do you love James? Does he love you? I didn’t think so. And to prevent that from happening, you need to be taken out of the picture. That’s why I brought you here. You’re not going to get in the way of me and James. Not again. He’s been spending too much time with you.” She looks up at you with pleading eyes.

“(Y/n) this isn’t healthy. He’s hurting you. This is your mind putting up a shield to protect you from the pain he’s caused.”

You stand up, shaking your head at her. “This is love. He loves me. They both do. And I’m not gonna let you come between us. Not now, not ever.”

~*~

“Still nothing from her?” Bucky asks into the phone, a frown on his pink lips. Steve huffs from the other line. “Nothing. It’s not like her to just disappear without saying anything to anyone. Even Fury doesn’t know where she is.” Bucky pushes his front door open and tosses his keys aside, stressed beyond belief.

“Alright. Keep me updated.” He hangs up the phone and pauses, listening carefully before sighing. It sounds like you’re upstairs, from what he can hear. He’s not exactly in the mood to be with you, far too worried about where Natasha is.

He makes to sit down on the couch, halting for a moment when he looks at the coffee table.

His tablet’s missing.

The shower starts upstairs so he knows you’re here. Why would you touch it? What would you do with it?

He grabs his phone and opens the ‘find my device’ app that Tony installed, thankful that it’s finally coming in handy.

He follows the little red dot, brows furrowed when it leads him down the stairs. His tablet is forgotten momentarily when he hears what sounds like sniffling coming from further in the basement. Following the sound, he gets to a latch on the floor that leads to the cellar.

With his heart racing in his chest, he lifts the latch and listens closely, brows furrowed in confusion.

That’s not what you sound like when you cry. Part of him is disturbed that that’s the first connection he made, but he quickly pushes that aside, hesitantly descending the ladder and looking around the dimly-lit room.

His heart nearly stops when he sees the redhead bound across the room, tears on her face as she shudders in the cool air.

“Nat!” He cries, sliding to his knees in front of her, his hands fluttering around uselessly as he tries to figure out what she needs first.

Her head snaps up to him, different emotions playing across her face before horror settles on her features.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispers, jolting away from him. He stares at her in confusion before his eyes zero in on the tablet between her naked legs, a familiar video playing.

The colour drains from his face and he looks at her, mouth gaping.

“I- th-that wasn’t...” She shakes her head at him, fear and anger chasing each other through her body. The wooden ladder creaks as someone enters the cellar and both spies look to the sound.

“James! I wasn’t expecting you home so soon! Welcome home,” you say happily. He’s absolutely beyond confused.

“What the fuck is going on?” He demands. You smile sweetly at him, walking over and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“You know, I found out that you don’t really talk about me to your coworkers. I’m hurt. Imagine my surprise when Natty over here doesn’t even know who I am. That hurts my feelings.” He’s still so fucking confused.

“I invited her over. I wanted to get to know her better. Turns out, she spent this time getting to know you better. She didn’t know what you did. Who you are. But now she does.” The two spies are silent for a long moment, Bucky avoiding the redhead’s intense gaze.

“Why did you do it?” Nat asks in a whisper, glaring at the man.

“I didn’t... it wasn’t me.”

“Bullshit!” She snarls. You watch the exchange, a smile on your pretty face as Natasha lashes out at him.

“But it’s okay, James. This is why we’re so perfect together. This is how lesser people react to you... all of you. But not me. You bring out the best in me, and I tame the beast in you. We’re so good for each other.”

Natasha shakes her head, terrified for your sake.

“You can’t possibly believe that. Not after everything he’s done to you.” You shrug, resting your hands on his shoulders and smiling at the redhead, smugly showing off the fact that you can openly touch the man before you.

“I love him,” you say simply, ignoring the way he stiffens at your words.

“No, you don’t.” You shrug again, running your fingers through Bucky’s hair then tugging gently to get his attention.

“James I’m giving you a choice, an escape. You don’t need her. She could never understand you the way I do. She’d never be able to handle you the way I can.” He looks between the two of you, brain running in circles as he tries to figure out the best course of action. You grab his hand and pull him to his feet, tugging him towards the exit.

“Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I’m thinking we should have pasta for dinner.” You turn around and walk to the ladder, stopping when you don’t hear him behind you. You look over your shoulder, frowning at the way he’s looking at Natasha.

“You’re not... you’re not seriously considering picking her over me, are you?” He looks up at you with pain in his eyes and you giggle.

“Come on, James. Look at how she reacted from seeing the monster. Imagine what she'd do if she ever met him.” He walks over to you, eyes glazing for half a second before returning to normal.

Two hands cup your cheeks, one cold and one warm, and you sigh happily.

“You are so very important, (Y/n). To me and to... him. But I can’t just leave her here.” Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him, lifting your head out of his hands just a bit.

“Is that your final choice?” You ask, voice a soft whisper. He squeezes his eyes shut and nods.

“I’m sorry. But I... I can’t.” You purse your lips and nod, one hand coming up to cup his cheek while the other reaches into your pocket.

“It's okay, James,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his while your free hand slowly sneaks out of your pocket.

He’s surprised but kisses you back, hoping that this will be enough for you to let him and Natasha go without him having to hurt you.

“If I can’t have you,” you murmur against his lips, pulling away to kiss down his neck, “no one can.”

By the time the words are registering in his brain you’ve already plunged the knife into his stomach and ripped it out again.

“No!” Natasha screams, watching the bloody knife enter his torso again.

You smile and pull away, eyes wild and dangerous as you stab him a third time, this one under the ribs.

He stumbles back and you sigh. “I really hoped it didn’t have to be this way, James. I love you. And you... you let me be the person I’m meant to be. The person I’ve buried away for so long. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it.” You push your hair away from your face, leaving a bloody streak of red across your forehead.

He slumps against the wall, hands pressed tightly to the wounds on his chest.

You step over his outstretched legs and up the ladder, not sparing a second glance at the two of them before closing the latch and locking it tightly.

~*~

“Why did you do it?” Natasha asks, her voice rough with emotion. Bucky leans back against the wall, wincing at the pain in his abdomen. You’ve hit something important, that much he knows for sure. He’ll probably survive, but it’s gonna hurt like a bitch for the next week or so.

“I... it wasn’t all me. It started off as me but then it was... him.” She furrows her brows in confusion. “What do you mean ‘him’?” He sighs and closes his eyes tightly.

“The monster. I can’t control him. It was getting better but... that was the worst. And I’ve never... he’s never lashed out on her like that since. I think subconsciously I’m starting to appreciate her and realize how much she helps, but I never thought...” He thinks back to how you stabbed him with a smile on your face. Whoever he thought you were clearly isn’t who you are. And at that moment, he’s sure that even Fury would be surprised by this.

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Thirteen: Outrageous Outbursts

A/N: This is the thirteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 3520

Warnings: swearing, slut shaming, moderate violence. 

Credits to Gif Creator

Practically bursting through the doors of the three broomsticks Aria Dumbledore was very quickly greeted by Alexander who led her to a secluded table in the corner of the pub.

"Are you okay, you seemed stressed?" He laughed nervously, upon noticing the fact she was slightly sweating from her walk from the castle.

"I need a drink." She demanded simply, about to make her way to the bar.

"Sit. I'll get it for you, you look like you need a rest." He continued to laugh.

"Fire Whiskey. And make it double!" She shouted after him, to which he replied with a simple thumbs up.

Almost immediately after Alexander left, a pair of mischievous red headed boys bounced into sight, pulling a chair up to the table. Removing her head from her hands, Aria could only let out a long, hard sigh at the sight of them.

"What going on here then, teach." Fred questioned sceptically with the raise of an eyebrow. "Who's the lad?"

"A friend." Aria replied through gritted teeth, wishing they would just leave her alone. She had been stressed out enough today as it were.

"Mmmmhmmm." George hummed. "He's a pretty good-looking friend if you ask me, professor."

"And he chose a spot all the way in the back, pretty intimate don't you think?" Fred continued.

"Pretty romantic. wouldn't you agree, Freddie?" The Weasley boy nudged his brother.

"Very romantic." The second Weasley twin nodded in agreement.

"Listen this isn't appropriate, I'm your professor, you best be gone before he gets back." Aria warned, while the boys continued to heckle her.

"You're only a professor in training. Besides it isn't against any rules for you speak to us out with the castle grounds, you've got nothing to worry about." George pointed out.

"Unless it's us she's worried about, eh Georgie?" The two boys turned to glare at their potion's mistress, waiting for her to crack.

Groaning loudly, Aria knew she couldn't get rid of the boys as easily as she had hoped. "Look, it's not a date. It's just a few drinks with a friend, okay? And he deserves to be able to come back to me without the two of you causing trouble. So go on, scram."

"Alright, alright, we'll go." They obeyed.

"Just one last thing." Fred spoke slowly, turning back on his heel. "Speaking of nice guys deserving things, how's the love life going?"

She knew it was coming, there was no escaping it. But for her sake, she hoped the boys could be trusted enough to keep their mouths shut, at least until the end of the year when she would be forced to confront all her problems head on.

"He deserves to know, Aria. You have to say something soon."

"I know, I know." She whispered, bowing her head in shame. "I just need to figure things out for myself first. Please don't say anything about this."

The twins looked between them deliberating who their loyalties lay with. "If you promise it's not a date, we have no reason to." Fred stated.

"It's not, I promise." She said sincerely.

And with that the boys retreated to their table not too far away, still keeping a close eye on their professor.

Alexander returned from the bar with a tray full of drinks for the pair of them.

"I thought you'd need them." He chuckled. And he was right as Aria instantly downed the entirety of her Fire Whiskey in one gulp.

For the next few hours, the pair laughed and drunk together, and for the first time since she had arrived at Hogwarts, she felt she finally had one true friend. It was nice to finally be able to talk to someone her age and not have to constantly fight to have a conversation or speak about work the whole time.

Unfortunately, though, within seconds of her coming to this realisation, Aria's hopes of maintaining her relationship with her new found 'friend' was shattered. Alexander reached his hand across the table, resting it gently on top of her own. Slowly he picked it up, moving it towards his lips before place a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

From the corner of her eye, Aria saw the Weasley twins watching her intently, forcing her to yank her hand away from the man.

"Another Drink?" Aria asked, already getting up from the table, making her way to the bar.

"Umm, no thanks." He said slightly confused, watching her walk away.

Passing the Weasley twins she avoided eye contact, praying Alexander would not make another move. At this rate making friends was not worth risking the twins spilling her secrets.

Of course, as Saturday's always were, the Three Broomsticks was packed full of students socialising with their friends and so Aria thanked God for once in her life that she would not get served any time soon. Rehearsing over in her head how she was about to end this 'date' with Alexander, all Aria wanted to do at this moment was run back to Hogwarts and go to sleep. It had been a long a day.

Finally reaching the front of the queue, Aria was barely focusing on her surroundings.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked.

"Fire Whiskey. Double." Two voices spoke at once.

Snapping back to reality upon hearing that so easily recognisable voice, Aria looked to her right to see none other than Severus Snape sitting at the corner of the bar, fondling an empty glass of Fire Whiskey.

"I'll get those right up." The bartender complied, obviously catching it was an awkward situation, and decided to get both the drinks at the same time.

"Severus." Aria said softly. "What are you doing here?"

"You are not the only one permitted to enjoy themselves with the occasional libation, Miss Dumbledore." He retorted, his words slightly running together, suggesting he had either been here a while, or had a lot to drink. Or both. Aria thought.

"Of course." She smiled awkwardly, not quite knowing how to respond.

"And your date." Snape spat, clearly unaware of how loud he was being. "How is it going?"

"Like I said before, Professor Snape. It is not a date." Aria tried to act a little more professional than her mentor, fully away the pub was full of Hogwarts students.

"Doesn't look like it from where I'm sitting, the two of you seemed rather close just now." Snape continued to mumble.

"You were watching us?" Aria questioned, to which Snape chose to remain silent.

"Two double Fire Whiskeys." The bartender announced.

Snape handed over his money, gesturing that he would be paying for both drinks.

Aria nodded a small thank you and made to leave.

Grabbing his drink from the table Snape stood up from his bar stool and started to walk alongside Aria, until gradually they came to a halt in the center of the room.

"Can I help you, Severus?" Aria huffed irritably.

Snape pondered for a moment, taking a large gulp of Fire Whiskey, deciding whether or not to speak.

Aria started to walk away, thinking he was never going to say anything.

"What are you trying to achieve." He hiccupped, bringing her back to attention.

"I'm sorry?" Aria asked, spinning on her heel to face him once more. "I don't think I know what you mean."

"I know what you're doing." He hiccupped again, leaning against a wooden pole in an attempt to stabilise his balance. "You're playing a game, but what do you get from it?"

"I have no idea what you're on about Snape, now if you don't mind, I'm going back to my-"

"Date?" He cut in, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

"No." Aria smirked sourly, knowing he was trying to put words in her mouth.

"Then what is it? Because, that boy over there is clearly interested in you and you're leading him on." He spat, his voice raising the more he spoke.

"None of this is any of your business, Professor Snape." Aria said still trying to remain professional and remove herself from the situation, knowing the man was clearly intoxicated. It was clear now to Aria that the majority of students in the pub were invested in listening in to their professor's conversation.

"There's no point denying it, I've seen it for myself. He's not the first, this boy." The potions master raised his voice, latching onto the woman's wrist, stopping her from leaving.

"Professor Snape, I think maybe you should quieten down a bit, people are listening." Fred interrupted as the twins bravely came to Aria's rescue.

"Aria maybe it's time to go." George whispered to her, pulling her back from the potions master.

"Here's more of them now. Students." Snape scoffed, completely ignoring anything the twins tried to say. "I bet before you came to Hogwarts, you done the same to them. Lead them on, drew them in with your sickening charms, then just left them on the hook for you. Look at them now, coming to your rescue."

"Don't be ridiculous, Severus. This is highly inappropriate." Aria tried to keep her composure, motioning to the Weasley boys to leave them, but it was obvious to everyone that a scarlet blush had begun to warm her cheeks. "You need to go home Severus. You've had too much to drink, you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying. And I know that you're here on a date with some poor bloke whose got no chance and you'll happily admit that"

"That's not what's happening, you're twisting my words."

"And I know that all day you've been flirting with Igor Karkaroff." He continued, paying no mind no Aria's objections. "I found the two of you in a rather comprising position today after the Great Feast."

"You're exaggerating, Snape, you know fine well that's not what was going on." Aria cried, which again, Severus chose to ignore.

"You've even tried your godforsaken charms on me. You tried to get me on my own in your quarters to seduce me, you're constantly flirting in a feeble attempt to manipulate me. Thank god I'm not dull enough to fall for your sickening act. I mean even now, look at how you're dressed. I'm assuming it's for all our benefits, men have been gawking and drooling over you all day and you love it. You're a teacher dressed like a common whore, how utterly inappropriate. You'd have been fired by now if Dumbledore wasn't your precious grandfather."

"This has gone too far, Severus, you need to stop this now!" Aria demanded, her voice cracking a little as she tried to match his volume.

"I'm not done." He sneered at her, the venom in his voice, showing a side of her mentor she never wanted to encounter again.

"The icing on the fucking cake is, you done all of this, played all of these cruel, childish games, and all the while you're in a relationship." He paused, relishing in Aria's reaction. She froze on the spot like a deer caught in headlights. For the first time tonight her eyes connected with the professors. "Is he being played too? Or does he somehow benefit from your antics."

"How the hell do you know that." Aria whispered, her own tone turning sour.

"I saw the letter on your desk."

"You read my mail? How dare you! That is confidential. You just don't know when to stop do you?" Aria cried, utterly humiliated.

"What's going on here." Alexander chimed in, holding Aria by the arm attempting to get in between her and Snape. He had been stood aside, listening alongside the students, but didn't know how to process any of this information until now.

"Everything he's saying, it's not true!" Aria pleaded with her friend, praying he too wouldn't ridicule her in front of everyone. "But he is right, this wasn't supposed to be a date. Nothing will happen between us, I'm so sorry." She begged, trying to hold herself together.

"It's okay." Alexander whispered, not wanting to upset the woman further. "Come with me, I'll walk you home." He attempted to embrace her.

"We all know what that means." Snape scoffed, watching them walk away. "She'll probably do anything you want she's that much of a fucking slut."

Both Aria and Alexander stopped in their tracks. Aria's whole body froze, having no idea how to react. The word rung in her ears, sending a pain to her heart and making her body go numb as if she was being stabbed with a thousand tiny knives. This was not the first time she had been called that word, and it fucking hurt to hear.

Alexander on the other hand knew exactly how to react. He paused for a moment, hand wrapping tightly around his wand before changing his mind at the last minute. Before anyone knew what was happening Alexander swung a punch at Severus hitting him squarely in his right eye. The professor instantly doubled over swearing in pain.

The students listening in instantly made to look busy, not wanting to know what Severus Snape would do to retaliate. Unfortunately for those wanting to see a show, Snape simply fell to the nearest chair, keeping his head down.

Aria quickly pulled herself together knowing this was her mess to fix.

Alexander rubbed his knuckles to ease the pain, before wrapping an arm around Aria Dumbledore. "Come with me." He said.

"Actually Alexander, I think I better take him back to the castle." She gestured to the mass of black fabric and hair drooping over a table and chair.

"Are you mad, after all that he just said to you. There's no way I'm letting you walk alone with him. He should be fired for all he's done."

"He's drunk... and I provoked him really, it's not his fault." Aria lied. "He's not like this when he's sober, trust me."

After a few more minutes of persuasion Alexander finally let Aria have her way, and bid her goodbye.

By this time the whole of the pub was chattering and gossiping about what they had witnessed, but Aria knew this was not the time to address what had happened and she would just have to let time run its course. The only thing she could do not was please the screaming bartender and remove Severus from the premises.

Drunk and a little concussed it took the potions master a minute or two to come around, but by then Aria had managed to walk him out the pub and along the road back to Hogwarts.

"Why are you helping me." Snape slurred, as he stumbled his way along the path.

"Because I know you're not a bad guy." She said softly.

*

That evening Aria insisted on helping Snape into his private quarters. The effects of the night had begun to sober Severus up, the embarrassment rendering him speechless, but Aria couldn't help but worry for him. This was not a regular old outburst, something was obviously eating away at him, but she could not bring herself to ask what it was that drove him to that level of anger.

Not wanting to upset him further, Aria chose not to enter his bedroom and chose to stay in the main living area. Handing him a pint of water to sip on, the young Miss Dumbledore set out to arrange a place for him to sleep on the couch. She managed to gather a few stray blankets and pillows she had found lying around, and decided he was still too drunk to care whether or not he went to sleep in his clothes.

Crawling up on the couch beside where he sat, Aria help a make shift ice pack gently to his eye. It had already begun to swell and it was clear there would be a lot of bruising by the morning. Her heart hurt for him.

"Why are you doing this." Snape finally spoke, breaking the silence that had become so thick.

Aria took a deep intake of breath, not fully understanding herself why she was helping the man who had ridiculed in the worst possible way.

"I don't know." Was all she could say in return, shuffling closer to tend to his eye.

For what seemed like a lifetime, Snape's apprentice sat facing him on her knees, breathing slowly and deeply as she held the cold compress to his eye, desperately hoping the swelling would go down and result in minimal bruising. Though the bruising of his eye was the last thing Severus was concerned about. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of half the student body, he had humiliated Aria and deeply hurt someone he truly cared about. Perhaps that's why he did it.

Severus knew the feelings he had for his assistant were becoming more real by the day and there was nothing he could do to stop them the more time they spent together. Perhaps his drunk-self had concluded that the only solution to his problem would be to drive her away, make her turn on him. But clearly his plan had failed. Now he was sat closer to her than he had ever been, watching her chest slowly rise and fall as she breathed in time to the beat of his heart.

Slowly Severus' lifted his gaze to the woman's face, watching her intently. For the first time since they had met, he saw a true sadness take over her, and he hated himself for being the reason she felt this way.

Snape suddenly felt completely dissociated from his body. He wasn't thinking, he didn't want to think. He had done enough of that in his lifetime and for once he just wanted to feel. Gingerly Snape nervously placed his hand over her own, catching Aria's attention as he removed the cloth of ice from his eye. Never breaking eye contact Severus shifted on the couch to face her better. She sat on her knees, her bare legs exposed, rubbing lightly against his own.  Letting go of her hand, Severus softly placed it on her exposed waist.

Goosebumps immediately rose all over her body, when the professors hand rested on her waist. She had hoped he would just assume she was cold from holding the ice, but both of them knew this was not the case. She wanted to break her gaze, she couldn't stand how he was looking at her, but she could not force herself to look away. Never before had Aria encountered this side of Severus Snape, she didn't think anyone had, but she couldn't help herself from feeling enchanted.

Just as unexpectedly as the first had been, Severus placed a second hand on her cheek, while letting the first snake around her body to the small of her back. The couple's bodies had gradually came edged to each other and now they were so close they could feel each other's warm breath on their skins.

Severus dropped his eyes to Aria's mouth, almost contemplating his next move. He thought about it for so long, unable to make the final move. Their foreheads touched, and his nose brushed against hers, but he just did not have the nerve to close that final gap. Both Aria and Severus' breathing had picked up the pace, and as each jagged breath left their mouths, the atmosphere became even hotter and heavier.

Just as Severus worked up the courage to make his move Aria found herself snap back to reality. Jerking away from him, she left out a small gasp but quickly covered her mouth. "I'm sorry." She whispered, shaking her head as she saw the Snape's face fall. "I'm so sorry." She cried, tears forming in her eyes, as she backed away.

Severus pulled his hands a way, balling them into fists, knowing he had made a mistake. He got up from the couch just as Aria had done, moving backwards putting some distance between them.

"Aria..." He whispered, calling her by her name for the first time. He looked at her almost pleadingly. But even he didn't know whether he was begging her to stay or begging her for forgiveness.

"I have to go. I'm sorry Severus." She breathed again, fleeing from the room.

Just as Severus made to close the final gap between them, Aria thought back to his harsh words of the night. She remembered everything he had said, and it suddenly occurred to her that he may have been testing her. He had claimed she was playing games and using men. He knew she was in a relationship, why else would he do this? To try and seduce her completely out of the blue, he could only be trying to prove himself right, prove that she really was a user, a harlot, a slut.

Aria felt the tears pour from her eyes as she tried to make sense of the confusion Severus had caused. What exactly was he gaining from this? Why would he want to ridicule her even more than he already has? Maybe he was truly just a cruel man.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel  @lizlil

[iacon-stargazer]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE: MUN & MUSE

fill out & repost ♥ this meme definitely favors canons more, but i hope oc’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. multimuses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

tagged by: stolen from @oneshallfall like.... months ago. im a slow gremlin hjksd. it's been in my drafts and i finally decided to finish the last few sections while working on clearing them out

tagging: steal it

MY MUSE IS.   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless

is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO.

is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  Well.../ NO / IDK. (i know optimus is but i don’t really... know about orion? i have seen a handful of fanartists who turn him into a very sexualized moe baby but i’m not sure about the fandom at large)

is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

are they underrated?  YES / NO. (lmao there’s like no fan content with him unless it’s with megatronus) 

were they relevant to the main story?  YES / NO.

were they relevant to the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO. (not yet.... lol)

how’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?

This... this is a trick question in this goddamn mess of a continuity. That said, I try my absolute best to make my portrayal coherent with the TFP show... even if said show contradicts itself at times. I take inspiration from the earlier parts (the thirteen primes section) of the Covenant of Primus for his origin backstory, but ignore the rest of the Covenant since it makes absolutely no sense with his characterization in... literally anything else. I’ve peeked at Exodus and it utterly sucks, but I’ve picked up bits and pieces of concepts that originated there just from spending time in the fandom. Aside from that... I spend a ton of time thinking about how to weave everything together in a way that both makes sense and makes for a character development arc.

SELL YOUR MUSE! (aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.)

Orion is genuinely kind, thoughtful, and introspective, very loving of the world around him.

He’s also a more complex character than is initially obvious - despite mostly being good sweet pure baby nerd he’s still flawed, with many of those flaws being his strengths put into the wrong situation. His strong morals can lead to dogmatism, and he’s only slightly less likely to deliver lectures than Optimus. His determination to be kind and help everyone can come off as unintentionally patronizing at times; he has a very “well-intentioned semi-privileged middle class” perspective that he’s not always self-aware of. However, he’s also willing to look at himself critically and learn/adapt. 

Essentially, he has many of the same traits as Optimus... just more or less apparent and/or developed. He's less confident than he eventually becomes through his future experience with leadership, wanting to change the world for the better but sometimes struggling to ground his plans in reality—something that continues to apply, but with reduced intensity and frequency over time. Idealistic cinnamon roll will eventually develop some realism, though never really quite enough. His selflessness remains a strength for now, but we know that eventually it will dip into martyristic tendencies.

NOW THE OPPOSITE! (list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

He could be potentially ‘boring’ in some senses. he’s the polite, considerate ‘next door’ type, who has for most of his life has just lived as a very average middle caste nobody. He’s more laid-back than he eventually becomes as optimus, but where others might get into trouble and shenanigans he’s most likely to just express concern. And since I try to keep him at least mostly ic, even with non-serious posts, this can derail ‘fun’ stuff and I fear dissuade some interaction.

While I try my best to give him realistic flaws that work with his character, he could still be seen as a little too good. very kind, understanding, forgiving, patient, considerate... almost endlessly so. A lot of my “he’s so good and pure” interpretation comes from using his having been the thirteenth prime as backstory, where he was pretty much the epitome of that, but some might not like the “he was a literal deity in a past life” idea for its “super special chosen one protagonist” elements.

His responsiveness to his environment can also be a downside. He’s not the type to start things; he just reacts and responds, standing his ground and finding himself when things get crazy around him. without megatronus, he may have eventually attempted political campaigning, but it wouldn’t have gotten very far. He needs to have more intense characters or events around him for major plots to really go places. Without those nothing would ever happen besides slice of life fluff, because he’s content with that kind of life.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?  

Honestly I just wanted to write op/ratch fhsjkdjsdh. But I also wanted to be able to interact with a variety of muses and so I chose Orion over Optimus because he’s not so emotionally closed off, which I figured would give more flexibility beyond the handful of characters op would reasonably have close personal and/or plot-important relationships with. Also, I can relate to him on a thought-process level which lets me get into his head easily, which additionally made him an appealing choice for my first real rp muse.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?  

I just love him so much, especially with the layers of his character I've built up around him. I don't always have inspiration to write or rp, but I think about him a lot. When I do find motivation to write, it's generally out of wanting to continue to work on developing him and just having a chance to express his characterization.

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.

do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO.

do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.  (i should do it more...)

do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO.

are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO. (at least most days fhsdhfskj)

are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. (it waxes and wanes. I know I'm a good writer but I could still be better...)

are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO.

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?

I’ll be honest; I’ve never gotten criticism. I haven’t been here very long in comparison to some and I’ve never been that popular, so I figure I’m pretty easy to just ignore. I guess how I would feel about it would depend on what it was and how it was delivered, though I like to think I would be reasonable regardless

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?  

yes? yes absolutely?

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  

I would be curious to hear their reasoning, but I think enough about how everything fits together that chances are I would agree to disagree

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?

Depends on if their disagreement makes sense. Maybe I’ll give back my own reasoning for why I characterize the way I do. Maybe I’ll just agree to disagree, if their view is just totally different from mine. If they have valid points I’ll probably overthink it and spiral into self doubt. In all cases I’ll spill my thoughts to friends on discord.

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT?

......Orion in general or? ... fhsjkdhf...... Well if it was mine specifically that might hurt lol. But at the same time.... I doubt i’d agree with their takes either so... fair enough.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?  

Sure. I’m good at grammar so if something glaring is there it’s probably a typo I missed and I’ll be grateful for the chance to edit it out before more people see it lol

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?  

Yeah. I’m pretty quiet most of the time because I just don’t have energy to talk to a lot of people, and I never want to get caught in drama. I honestly wouldn’t know what to do in a situation like that. I tend to avoid conflict, I’m quick to apologize, and polite with anyone I don’t know very well.

[digikate813]

8 Things I’m proud of from 2020 (In no particular order)

@orangeoctopi7​ tagged me to do this challenge, a while ago. I apologize Octopi, it got buried in my likes so I never got around to doing it. But I still wanted to share some things I made that I was proud of in the dumpster fire year that was 2020. 

1. Let’s Talk About The Duck Knight Returns Review

I covered a lot of Ducktales last year, starting to include one episode review a month in my schedule, but due to fortunate circumstances, my review of The Duck Knight Return really took off. Getting over 12,000 views and getting over 100 subscribers from the exposure. It’s also significant because I’ve wanted to cover this episode for a long time, and to have it be so well received is incredible.

An honorable mention in the same vain goes to my video speculating on a possible Darkwing Duck Reboot. Since I invited a lot of great people to help me out with it. It was amazing!

2. Hitting 1,000 subscribers on KateCast Reviews

This might be a stretch, but I did create this channel, and last year I hit a milestone I’ve wanted to achieve for so long. In the middle of a year that felt like such a failure, something like that was very gratifying after so long.

Also I changed my username from KC Reviews to KateCast. I personally like the new name way better.

3. Sherlock and the Curious Critic Retrospective

I’ve wanted to review Sherlock in some form for a long time, but was hesitant to for various reasons. But I finally said “screw it I want to celebrate this show”, and dedicated 2020, as the show celebrated it’s 10th anniversary, to reviewing the entire series throughout the year. It felt so good to revisit the show in such an in depth way, and it contains some of the reviews I’m the most proud of making. 

4. Being part of Antony C’s 2nd Procrastination Challenge

I’ve ben a fan of Antony’s for years, and I loved the idea of his Procrastination Challenge. Thankfully (sort of), I was struggling to finish the latest installment of Sherlock and the Curious Critic at the time, but I rose to the challenge for his challenge, finished it and submitted. It was so amazing to not only hear him comment on my review, but even have him retweet the submission! Which he didn’t do for all of them. To this day that is the most popular video in my Sherlock retrospective, by a long shot!

5. Adding the Thirteenth Doctor to my Clay Doctor Who Figures

This might be small and silly, but ever since i made these things in 2013 I’ve absolutely loved them, and adding the 13th Doctor was long overdue. This year I finally got off my ass and did it, and I have to say, I think she came out really well. Only downside is that I knocked her over later on and now she can’t stand up on her own. But it’s still cute!

6. Reviewing the series finale of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

This was long overdue on my end, but it felt wonderful to finally talk about the ending of a show that has left such an unexpected impact on me. But what puts it here is how I didn’t do this alone. I got to invite some lovely bronies to send the show off with some kind words, and when I mentioned to the Equestria Daily team that I made this, they let me make a dedicated post to it on the site (which is what I’m linking to). So much about that video was just wonderful, and I cherish a lot about it.

7. Writing my first Sherlock fanfic: A Change in the Data

Naturally spending so much of the year absorbed into the world of BBC Sherlock again, and knowing how to navigate fanfiction sites much better, i wanted to take a crack out at it. Doing what fanfiction is made for, exploring an area of the canon I really wish the show had! And just to clarify, it is a Gen fic. I’m not much of a shipper. But it is post series soooo, spoilers.

I liked doing this one so much that I have a rough idea of a more elaborate fic I want to write in the Sherlock universe, so keep an eye out for that.

8. My special Let’s Talk About Review on Avengers Endgame

For those who don’t know, I have an ongoing series of reviews for the Marvel Cinematic Universe called To Infinity War and Beyond. This year, despite no new MCU movies being released because, a thing happened, I deviated from the formula for these videos to do a massive review on Avengers Endgame. Even made a new intro for the occasion. It was great to revisit the movie and give it such a n in depth look. If any MCU movie deserves it, it’s this one. Currently, if you count both parts, this is my longest review of a single topic ever. And trust me, I’m going to try and keep it that way. 

Phew. That was quite a lot to look back on. Guess that’s what happens when you spend most of the year stuck at home.

It might be too late to keep this going, but I’m still gonna tag @blackscarabfilmz​ @marvelandponder​ and @wiz-witch​ . Obviously you guys don’t have to if you don’t want to (especially since it May and all), but here’s your chance if you would like to!

[theonceoverthinker]

Friday the Flirteenth (1/?)

Summary: Qrow likes to avoid others on Friday the Thirteenth. He claims he’s doing it for everyone else’s sake, and that they’re better off if he spends the day alone in his room. Clover’s not having any of his self-loathing bullshit -- not today, and not ever, if he has anything to say about it.

AO3

A/N: You ever come up with an AMAZING pun and then find a way to write a fic around that? Well, that’s happened here! I’ve wanted to release this for SO long, and finally, I can...at least release part 1! Yeah, illnesses have made this a hard fic to finish, but fortunately, I have enough here to release a respectable first chapter to what will hopefully be a respectable MC! I hope you enjoy it! Tagging @fair-game-week!

BIG thanks to my beta, @skybird13. Sky, you’re the best, and I hope you understand that. Coordinating with you with my works makes me feel so confident in them. I want you to know more than anything how much I value your help and support, not just in this fic, but in everything, and I hope we’re friends for a long time to come!!!!

()()()()()()()()

Chapter One: Fourteen Hours, and A Whole Lot of Peanuts

Qrow Branwen liked peanuts. 

They were cheap, could be found just about anywhere in Remnant, had a pleasantly salty taste, and served as the perfect snack on days where he had no intention of stepping so much as a toe outside of his room.

So, in anticipation for Friday the Thirteenth, Qrow bought a LOT of peanuts.

When one had a semblance like his, a day dedicated to the very concept of bad luck was one that couldn’t be dismissed without some burden on their conscience. In fact, Friday the Thirteenth more than most any other day put extra responsibilities upon Qrow’s shoulders -- a responsibility to not cause any more trouble than necessary, a responsibility to stay away from anyone who he might accidentally harm, and a responsibility to keep the other two responsibilities secret from all who might try to intervene on his behalf.

And, just as he usually did, Qrow accepted those responsibilities and kept himself at a distance from all.

Fourteen hours. He just had to stay in his room alone for fourteen hours. 

He’d lasted a lot longer on his own many times before.

It wasn’t that big of a problem, at least not in previous years. Thanks to a lifetime’s worth of practice, Qrow knew the most secluded spots in all of Remnant to hide in on occasions like this, and the fastest routes to get to them from pretty much anywhere. And with no one but enemies on his trail, there was little risk that the day provided to anyone, or at least, anyone who didn’t deserve it.

But things weren’t so simple this year.

This year, he had his nieces and a gaggle of kids as traveling companions.

This year, he resided in an Atlesian military base, one that restricted access to any type of real seclusion further than the privacy of his own room.

This year, he despised the man he had formerly dedicated his life to.

This year, things were complicated, and his semblance always loved running amok when things were complicated.

But, as he reminded himself, some of those complications ended up turning into triumphs.

Sure, it was the first year without the hope Ozpin provided. But it was also the first year where  Qrow had a different kind of hope to keep him going. It was a kind of hope that made itself tangible through his nieces’ determination, his own efforts to fight off the allure of alcohol, and as of late, an encouraging smile and a flirty wink from a kind man with a semblance that seemingly counteracted his own…

Clover…

Clover...

Well, in a life of complications, Clover stood out as one of the biggest he’d ever faced. His very presence complicated everything in Qrow’s headspace all over again.

Still, that wasn’t a bad thing.

At least, Qrow was pretty sure it wasn’t.

Clover...Clover was really something else…

If someone were to ask Qrow to describe Clover after their disastrous first meeting, he’d have more than a couple of choice words for them -- cocky, pedantic, narcissistic. But things changed once they started working together, and as he learned more about Clover, while all of those descriptors were still true, the words themselves took on an entirely new shape for Qrow. What was cockiness just days before was now self assuredness, what was pedantic was revealed to really be caution on behalf of those he worked with and for, and what was narcissistic was actually a confidence that he created for himself, a confidence based in real pride in who he was and how that pride amounted to far more than just his semblance.

Additionally, a new word came to mind, too -- warm. It was a genuine warmth that flowed through each and every one of Clover’s words, and accompanying that warmth was a trust in those fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of them. It was hard not to return that trust in kind with some of his own, and for the first time in a while, Qrow felt no need to resist doing just that. 

It surprised Qrow sometimes just how much he had already divulged to Clover. Part of the reason for that came out of a desire to put his best foot forward for their assigned partnership. Part of it was a warning in the interest of Clover’s safety. But some things couldn’t be explained away so easily, and could only be attributed to a real sense of trust.

Frankly, it was nice having something like that again with someone. 

And it wasn’t even just Clover’s personality that painted the portrait that was Clover Ebi. Looking at Clover was like looking at a cloudless sky on a spring day. He was bright, bold -- brilliant, even. His smile was caked in charm -- true charm -- and his brow was shaped with a resolve to keep promises Qrow knew he probably could, promises he likely made to himself, Ironwood, and his country. 

Maybe there was even a promise to Qrow somewhere in that mix. 

No -- there was no maybe. He was sure there was.

But there was a coolness in Clover’s being too, both in his demeanor and his personality. There was an untold story in his eyes, one uncared for by his teammates, and only allowed to exist through fleeting expressions here and there during moments where he let his guard fall down. And that same jaw that held his charm like a jug held water held tension there too, as if there was an entire book’s worth of things he wanted to say, but for whatever reason didn’t. It was enough to make anyone who saw those things pretty curious about what hidden depths might be underneath that veil of job-dictated professionalism.

Qrow spent far more time thinking about all that he had left to uncover about Clover than he would ever admit.

After all, there was a lot to ask about what went on in that man’s mind, especially when it led him to befriend him, of all people.

But that wink Clover gave him on their first mission together made Qrow wonder if befriending him was all Clover wanted to do.

And regardless of how he felt in return, Qrow had to wonder whether or not he should try to stop him before Clover jumped further down the rabbit hole that was his life.

Qrow was bad news.

Then again, just about everything having to do with Clover was good news, and perhaps the exact thing that rabbit hole of his could use in its life was a lucky rabbit’s foot to help fill it up.

Wow...that was sappy.

Even on his worst days, Clover seemed able to bring out a little bit of sappiness in him. Go figure.

But, whatever fate had in store for him and Clover could wait to be further unearthed until tomorrow. Hell, he might even have time to muse on what that might be today, because for the next fourteen hours, it would be just himself, his room, and an overabundance of peanuts fighting against the slowly whiling hours of time.

Jeez...greater good or not, even Qrow could admit just how sad that was...

Maybe his abandonment of his morning coffee would at least grant him a nap and make the day go by faster…

He’d certainly prefer it that way.

Before he could even attempt to take advantage of his coffee’s absence, two knocks hit his door.

Perhaps it was foolish to think no one would bother him today -- after all, in Atlas, there was always something going on -- but he had a day off of Huntsmen duties while most everyone else he knew didn’t. He’d hoped against hope that meant that he’d be left in peace for the day.

Apparently, it didn’t.

Just his luck…

“Hello?” Qrow called out, reluctantly standing up.

“Qrow?”

Immediately, he recognized the voice, the voice that had burned itself into his memory within a matter of weeks and now had a summer cottage nestled somewhere between his brain and heart.

And there he was, letting that sappiness invade his thoughts again…

Of course the one person responsible for inspiring it was the one visiting him on the absolute worst day to do so.

Qrow approached and opened the door.

Just as he suspected, it was Clover who stood on the other side, as chipper as ever. After willing himself to hold back a grimace at the unexpectedness of his or anyone’s visit, Qrow noticed two cups of coffee in his hands. 

“You missed your morning cup,” Clover stated, offering one of the ones in his hand to Qrow. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Despite himself and everything the day represented for him, Qrow let down his guard ever so slightly at the awkward way Clover explained himself. He wasn’t thrilled about someone showing up on his doorstep, but that’s not to say it wasn’t nice to see a friendly face at all, especially in the face of the rest of his sure-to-be lonely day.

“Thanks,” he said, accepting the cup with a light smile he allowed to surface.

“So,” Clover said, elongating the vowel for a few seconds as he expectantly stared at Qrow.

“So?” Qrow repeated, matching Clover’s delivery and adding in a bit of confusion. 

“IS everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Qrow said, shrugging.

Clover quirked his brow. He didn’t look convinced, and unwilling to give Qrow so much as the chance to rectify that. 

“It’s not, though, is it?”

Qrow fought the urge to bit his cheek, but paid the cost of that with a tremor in his voice.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You not coming down for coffee is strange on its own,” Clover elaborated, “but you haven’t even left your room and it’s nearly ten. Usually, even on your lazy days, you’re out and about by half past eight, at the latest.”

“So I slept in a bit,” Qrow defended, shrugging in what he hoped would be a casual enough manner. “What’s the big deal?”

“It wouldn’t be a big deal at all if it wasn’t Friday the Thirteenth.”

Qrow blinked, flustered even more so than when Clover had started pressing him. Clover merely looked at him expectantly. 

How did he-?

Sure, Clover had a calendar, but why would he-?

Damnit, Clover...

“It’s a day for bad luck,” Qrow explained, his mood dark out of instinct more than malice. “Given my semblance --”

“It’s a day for superstitions,” Clover insisted.

“You seem to like yours just fine.” Qrow made a circle with his finger that encompassed the various lucky charms on Clover’s outfit.

Clover smiled as if he saw the rebuttal coming from a mile away.

“These are just here to make the uniform pop,” he said, laughter bubbling underneath him, as if Qrow had just walked into a trap. “And judging by how you clearly seemed to take notice of them, it looks like they’ve done their jobs quite nicely.” 

Just as he finished speaking, Clover winked right at Qrow, something that was very quickly becoming a habit of his when they were around each other. Fria must’ve imbued that wink with some of her magic or something because it always felt just a bit overpowering.

Qrow made a noise that would’ve sounded more at home in his bird form than the form that actually delivered it.

“Okay, but even still,” Qrow said, quickly pushing to make Clover forget about that sound, “you know what kind of things are out there in this world. Magic exists, fairy tale maidens and Grimm are running amok -- who's to say something like Friday the Thirteenth isn’t real, too? What reason do I have to trust that my semblance won’t go haywire on a day devoted to it?”

“If you stay in your room,” Clover countered, just as quickly as Qrow had with him, “you’re making things worse for yourself. Come on,” he said, his tone brightening alongside a fresh, new smile. “We can go get an early lunch. There’s a fantastic sushi restaurant just on the outskirts of the academy that you’ll love. Their rolls put the ‘ah’ in ‘tuna.’”

Now it was Qrow’s turn to quirk his brow. “And if I leave my room, I’ll risk making things worse for everyone else. I’m not leaving. Maybe we can go to that restaurant tomorrow.”

Qrow expected Clover to keep pushing back with yet another comment, but instead, he just took a patient, deep breath.

He then shrugged.

“And I was so excited to take you there, too,” Clover lamented. “But, oh well. Have it your way, then.”

Without giving Qrow so much as a second to respond, Clover gently pushed him to the side, walked inside his room, and sat down on one of the chairs across from his bed. Qrow was stuck somewhere between being utterly stunned by the action, and not at all. After all, this was pretty standard Clover Ebi behavior in that it was utterly unpredictable.

That’s not to say it was necessarily welcome -- or that Qrow would admit it even if it was.

And this morning, he was feeling particularly stubborn in his quest for solitude.

“That wasn’t an invitation to join me,” Qrow snipped.

Clover simply lounged back into the plush chair, easing his knees as his legs spread forward. “Well, if you won’t come out with me, then I’ll simply have to come in with you.” He then pulled something out of his pocket, something that instantly brought another grimace to Qrow’s face, all the while smiling. 

“Up for some cards?”

Qrow groaned.

He knew it when he woke up, and he was even more sure of it now: This was gonna be a long, long fourteen hours.

[vikingsarememes]

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Summary: you weren’t able to sleep, overthinking about one certain question, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you woke your husband up to give you his honest opinion.

Word count:  1191

Warnings: none

“Ivar? Are you awake?” you whispered as you shook your husband awake a few times, he was deep in his sleep, but you needed to talk to him, it was urgent, you couldn’t wait until the morning “Ivar!” you said a little louder, he twitched and tried to push you away but it was a hard thing to do when both of his eyes were closed “Ivar! It’s important, wake up!” you whined and kept shaking him awake until he opened his eyes.

“What? Y/N, what is it that you need to ask me at 2 in the morning?” he huffed drowsily, “don’t be like that!” you pouted, he rolled his eyes and lifted his head up, resting it on the palm of his hand “apologies, what is it love?” he faked a little smile, you sighed “well, I was drifting to sleep and then… I had this crazy idea, what if we lived in the medieval ages? What if I was a queen, we are married too in this image, and like you’re the king, and I’m the queen” Ivar looked at you speechless, but he was listening, trying to figure out what’s your point.

“You know, things were a little rough back then, life’s tough and all, and decisions need to be made, but that’s when it hit me, I don’t know if I would be a good queen! And I just had to know what do you think about it! Do you think I would’ve been a good queen?” you rumbled, biting your bottom lip, you were so damn serious about it, but Ivar looked like he’s about to kill you “Y/N, my lovely wife, did you seriously wake me up at two in the morning for this?” he asked, calm, yet you felt his inner rage.

“yes, Ivar! It’s not like I can shut my brain off! I must know so I can sleep!” you explained “Y/N I have two different painkillers in my system now, and I have to wake up tomorrow so damn early” he responded, you were getting frustrated with him, you needed to know! Why can’t he understand? Once you know what he thought about it, everyone can go back to sleep “I think I’ll move to the couch” he grumbled and sat up “well… you can’t, I hid your crutches and the wheelchair, not hid, but like, I’m holding them a hostage, you can’t escape me” 

“Fine, If we lived back then, you would be an amazing queen, because I’d be a crappy king, with a running mouth that would get me into troubles and you’d probably be the reason why the people tolerate me, happy now?” he jeered, you smiled and looked at him “do you mean it?” he huffed and nodded “yes I fucking mean it! As much as I hate you right now, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and my family likes you better than they like me, so it won’t be any different back then” 

You hugged him happily and showered him with kisses “I would’ve been a terrible king, one of the bloodiest” once the two of you were laying down, he smiled a little and wrapped his arms around you, cuddling you, your head rested on his shoulder “would you still love me even if I wasn’t a royalty? Like if I was a slave or a peasant?”, “well, in this life I’m rich and surrounded by women of all shapes and colors but I chose you because you are the right woman for me, the one I love! So I don’t think anything would change, if you were a slave I’ll just free you then marry you, if you were a peasant then I’ll take your farm then marry you, and whoever opposes my decision, I’ll cut their head off”

You giggled and looked at him “you’ll definitely enjoy cutting people’s heads off, you’d do it now if it wasn’t illegal” he laughed a little and nodded “Sigurd would be the first to go” you laughed more then yawned “dare to sleep now and I’ll have your head off after Sigurd” Ivar glared at you “what? I’m tired Ivar!” you complained, slowly closing your eyes “you woke me up, and I’m pretty awake, like solving math problems kind of awake! You owe me to entertain me until I fall asleep!” he kept shaking you until you opened your eyes.

“Can’t you just watch porn until you fall asleep? I’m too tired to entertain” you kind of regretted saying that immediately, you knew Ivar wasn’t wired like that, you were aware of that, porn doesn’t entertain him at all, he watches porn as if he’s watching any other show, it doesn’t get him hard or horny, mainly because of his condition, you hated yourself so much at that moment but what mattered was if Ivar’s upset about it or not, so you looked at him, waiting for his reaction, you’d never forgive yourself if he’s upset because of it “not that kind of entertainment, talk to me or something” you kept giving him puppy eyes until you earned a playful punch on the arm.

“Stop looking at me as if I’ll break into tears, you can joke about porn and sex” he mumbled “it makes me feel normal, and I know it’s a lot of effort to have sex with me but that doesn’t mean we can’t joke about it right? Or is it that bad?” he started rumbling, his good mood disappearing “we reached the depressing mood no?” you sighed and switched positions so now you’re the one holding him, he nodded.

“I think sex with you is great, like really great, you’re amazing at it, you turn me on so bad, the whole process is what makes it hotter, I love how we do it, you’re like a sex god! Especially with the thing you do with your tongue! Like damn!” you looked at him hoping for a smile or a happy look “Y/N, you’re killing me” he whined, you rolled your eyes “fine! Are you still in pain?” you desperately attempted to change the subject “I feel nothing, you can set me on fire right now and I’ll be… chilling” he sighed.

You giggled a little and nodded “I swear to god you’re the only person I know who uses stairs to the thirteenth floor of a building! And then go for a walk” he chuckled a little “Sigurd was in the elevator” you raised an eyebrow at him “he closed the door in my face, so I went to the maintenance room and switched the elevator off” he grinned so proud of himself “isn’t he claustrophobic?”, “exactly” your husband gave you a very mischievous smile.

This man, this childish man, who keeps starting prank wars with his brothers, will be the father of your children one day and you don’t regret your choices, you saw him yawn and close his eyes, so you did what you always do when you want him to relax, you played with his hair until he fell asleep again.

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius​ @lol-haha-joke​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​

[maxdark158]

PART TWO OF BEING INSPIRED AND WRITING ANYWAY

PLEASE check out the amazing @ozmav my friend!! AMAZING!!

Characters are probably OOC because MLB is a kids show and you guys liked stressed and cursing Damian so I kept that going even though it’s probably OOC

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

Damian tried to ignore his phone after checking it for the thirteenth time. But who was counting?

He was, actually. Because it seems the stupid worry feeling will never fucking go away! It took root, and it’s only growing. Damian wondered if drinking weedkiller works on emotions. The bitches.

He wasn’t even that worried initially! Sure, he wanted his An- Marinette to text him when she got to the hotel, but that was just… a friend thing. It’s what friends ask! And they were friends.

Damian wasn’t worried on the car ride to the manor, he had only checked his phone once then. When his father questioned him about The Riddler incident, he was thoroughly distracted and didn’t check at all. After he left the room he checked twice in one minute just to make sure he didn’t miss anything in the first check.

He checked sparsely while training briefly, adding up to eight… okay, maybe not so sparsely. But at this point the awful god damn plant had grown a mouth and it was gnawing on his sanity, bugging him every moment of peace he had.

Damian was getting really fucking sick of this whole worry business. It was awful! Why did Grayson partake in it for so many years? Why did anyone?

He was beginning to understand his classmates’ sense of humor now. But “I want to ka-shoot myself,” was not as funny as they thought it was.

Damian was so busy thinking about worrying and getting more worried – the fucking circle of life – that when he checked his phone for the fourteenth time, he realized he missed a message from Marinette.

Angel: I’m at the hotel now.

Thank fuck. Damian banished all the worry from his mind – leave, motherfucker – and typed out a response.

Damian: That’s good

Damian: Did you get in trouble?

Wait fuck the worry wasn’t gone. He wanted to smack the phone against his head. Or break his thumbs for typing that without his permission.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev must’ve been tired or something.

Angel: She didn’t leacture

Damian bit his lip. Marinette needed to work on her English.

Angel: Lecture?

Damian: *lecture

Angel: Quiet, English is hard

He could fucking understand that! It may have been long ago but Damian had to learn once too, ya know.

Damian: Understandable.

Damian: In my original question I meant any of your classmates btw

Holy fucking shit his thumbs would be cut off by sunlight he swears to all the justice league members-

Angel: btw?

Angel: Oh by the way

Damian: yeah

Angel: I’m good at text slang in French, okay

Damian: I don’t doubt you

He really didn’t. Marinette seemed intelligent if The Riddler incident had anything to say about it.

Angel: Anyway Alya tried to bother me but I’m good now

He frowned. Alya? She hadn't told him about her.

Angel: Professor Mendeleiev told her off for bothering me after my ‘traumatic’ encounter with a Gotham villain

Damian: Speaking of, are you SURE you’re alright Angel

Damian sighed, letting his head drop. Okay, fucking fine he was still fucking worried and he hated it. His thumbs weren’t to blame, his fucking emotions were.

He pulled up Google to look up liquid weedkiller when his Ang- Marinette texted back.

Angel: I’m fine

Angel: I’ve survived akuma for three years, I’m not about to let some riddle fanatic with terrible clothing choices ruin my day

Damian: His clothes are that bad?

Good, subject change. Maybe he can stop fucking worrying.

Angel: Too much green, for one

Angel: Green shouldn’t be used in large portions when it’s that bright of a shade

Angel: Also the cloth itself was cheap, but the kind of cheap meant to look expensive if you don’t know cloth good

Damian frowned. That was so fucking obvious. Surely she didn’t actually make that mistake…

Damian: *well

Angel: Whatever

Angel: Also his hat didn’t match the type of suit he was wearing

Angel: If he wants to go old fashioned he should at least match the time period

Angel: Longer coat, more layers

Angel: He is an atrocity

Her comments were appreciable though. He could see where she came from.

Damian: he is

Angel: If I had time to cry then my tears would had been blood

Damian: *have

Damian grinned. If Marinette didn’t want her fucking grammar fixed she should learn how to spell in English.

A different motherfucking bitch of an emotion appeared at that thought. He didn’t like that one either. It made him feel bad for being mean.

Angel: istg

Damian: It appears you’re learning

Angel: Yepp

Damian: Also the Gotham news posted an article online about you

Might as well bite the bullet, right?

Damian: “Unnamed Teenager From France Holds off The Riddler Until Batman Arrives!”

Angel: Wait what?

Angel: But we both held him off?

Damian: I was kind of useless, you did most of the work

God damn it! Damian thought he told that emotion to get the fuck out! He was fucking Robin he isn’t useless, he just happened to not be needed at that exact moment.

Damian: I left shortly after you solved his riddle because the Robins had arrived

He grumbled to himself. He hated emotions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever felt them before, but they were easier to ignore. This girl made them hard to ignore, and Damian wasn’t sure why.

He did know that he fucking hated it.

After a moment, he realized h- Marinette hadn’t replied for a few minutes.

Damian: You there?

Angel: Yeah. I was just reading the article

Good. He didn’t want anything to happen- motherfucking dammit.

Angel: The Riddler was bad at hand to hand combat. It was easy to take him down with the practice I have from Paris

Damian: I bet.

He saw the time on his phone. Marinette had more field trip stuff tomorrow morning, right? Shouldn’t she get to bed?

Damian: It’s getting late, Angel. We should go to bed.

Damian: Goodnight

Angel: Goodnight

Angel: Also I’ll find a chat name for you soon, promise

Damian’s smile felt weird on his face but unlike the god damn worry and fucking other emotions, he didn’t hate the feeling of it.

After replying, he prepared to get dressed for his patrol as Robin.

oooOOOooo

“Sooo, Robin,” Drake dropped down next to him. “Want to share why you were at that ice cream parlor with that pigtailed French girl?”

“Fuck off,” is Damian’s extremely eloquent response. He can say it in many different languages.

“Wait, Demon Spawn has a girlfriend?” fucking Todd over the fucking comms in his fucking awful Red Hood suit. At least his current helmet didn’t have the fucking lips.

“No, I don’t-“

“I’m trying to figure that out, Red Hood, so would you kindly butt out of the conversation.”

“Of course Red Robin, good luck getting anything out of him though.”

“I don’t have a fucking girlfriend you numbskulls,” Damian hissed through the comms.

“Wait what’s this about a girlfriend, Robin?” Grayson’s overexcited cheerleader voice screamed. Damian wanted to rip out his eardrums.

“Red Robin, I thought I instructed you to leave him alone about this,” finally, his father, for once being a fucking voice of reason, speaks on the comms.

“Bruce you said I should wait until he admits to having a girlfriend,” Drake sounded too smug, Damian wanted to cut it off his masked face. “We know that isn’t going to happen.”

“I hate this fucking family,” Damian hissed.

oooOOOooo

Marinette hadn’t missed her field trip this time. Or had she? Maybe she slept in really fucking late. Damian didn’t know. He didn’t know what her sleeping schedule was like.

She could have also been captured or killed. Those were not fun thoughts. The fucking worry was back, like a virus. Damian anxiously awaited his weedkiller.

She likely wasn’t kidnapped or dead. His father would have known by now and would have told him. He hopes. If his father didn’t tell him he’s a fucking asshole.

“Master Damian.”

“Yes?” he turned around to face Alfred, grateful to be away from the god damn brain-eating plant in his head.

“I simply wanted to prevent you from walking into that wall,” Alfred gestured behind Damian.

He glanced and – yep. Fucking hell. He almost walked into a wall because of the god damn weed of an emotion forcibly taking his mind hostage.

He was having a grand ol’ time.

“Perhaps you would like to go for a drive?” Alfred asked, a single brow raised.

Damian hesitated. “Alright. Where do you want to go?”

“We can figure it out in the car, Master Damian.” Alfred went to grab the keys and his shoes. Damian checked on when his weedkiller would arrive.

A week.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He should have paid for one-hour shipping.

“Are you ready to go, Master Damian?”

“Yes.”

Alfred didn’t try to talk to him during the drive, for which Damian was grateful though. He hated this emotion thing, and people forcing him to talk made it so much worse.

His phone buzzed. Damian pulled it out and checked it.

Angel: Kill me now

His eyes widened. What happened? Is she okay? Did someone- god fucking motherfucking dammit bitch.

Damian: What’s wrong?

Stupid god damn worry.

Angel: We have to all get lunch as a class before I’m free

Angel: I’m in the group with Liar Rossi

Damian raised a brow. Marinette hadn’t told him much about this girl in her class, but he knew she lied and nobody but Marinette knew she lied.

He didn’t like her.

Angel: Death would be sweatier

Damian: *sweeter

Angel: Rude

Damian: Anyway

Damian: You can’t die yet

Damian: We still technically didn’t get ice cream

Absolutely wonderful excuse you fucking asswhipe. Damian should be a politician with that reasoning.

He looked around, recognizing the streets. They were a bit weird from the actual street instead of the rooftops, but-

Damian: Also you’re at the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum right?

Angel: Yes I am

Damian fought to keep the smi- self-satisfied smirk off his face. Bingo.

Damian: I’m nearby

Damian: I can pick you up for lunch

Angel: OMG really? Please do I’d really really like that

Damian: omw

“Alfred,” Damian leaned up toward the front seat. “Head to the Gotham City Heroes and Villains Museum? I’d like to pick someone up.”

“Of course Master Damian,” Alfred’s tone didn’t betray anything about his thoughts, but for some reason that was calming to him.

The car drive to the museum was fairly short, if Damian was honest. They were only a few minutes away to begin with anyway.

When they arrived, Damian saw a redhaired girl with glasses yelling at his An- Marinette. At Marinette. He couldn’t hear what Marinette had said, but it must have been good. The red-haired girl’s jaw fucking dropped. The people behind her looked fucking dead.

Priceless.

Marinette saw him and he waved. Alfred unlocked the door, and Marinette got in. She didn’t look back at her classmates' faces as Alfred drove away.

Shit. Something must have happened. He wasn’t good with emotions though, after all he ordered weedkiller to see if he could get rid of fucking worry.

So, Damian Wayne did what any Wayne would do when faced with emotions.

Ignore them.

“Where would you like to eat, Angel?” Damian asked.

Shit, fuck, too insensitive.

Marinette shrugged. “I’m not sure, I don’t know what’s here.”

She sounded so goddamn miserable-

Damian frowned. “Angel, you okay?”

Fucking shit, stupid mouth. Learn the fucking rules. He should be banned from fucking talking.

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

Damian wanted to press the issue but decided against it. If he was happy when Alfred didn’t make him talk feelings, maybe Marinette would be too.

He was a friend first – wait first before what, exactly?

“Alfred, can you take us to the nearest,” he glanced at Marinette. “four-star restaurant?”

“As you wish Master Damian.”

He hoped Marinette didn’t feel out of place, but he wanted to lift her spirits. She deserved to smile – that was a weird fucking sentence what the fuck?

Damian is pretty sure he’s losing his marbles.

“I know,” Marinette suddenly blurted out. “I know you’re Damian Wayne.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

Shit. She’s probably pissed he didn’t tell her-

“I just want you to know that doesn’t change anything. You’re still my friend, and I don’t care who your dad is and who you are.”

Damian gaped at her for a moment before shaking his head. He should have fucking told her, he’s an ass. “I’m sorry you had to find out on your own. I should have told you-”

Marinette interrupted, “you didn’t have to. You don’t owe me that.”

He was confused. What?

She didn’t want to know who he was right off the bat? She was okay with that secret?

“As a stranger or even a friend, you don’t owe me any details about who you are. Ever,” Marinette told him. “You’re allowed to keep secrets and not tell me things you aren’t comfortable sharing. It isn’t fair of me to demand you tell me everything.”

Holy fucking shit.

This… this woman…

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I… nobody’s ever said secrets are okay…”

Marinette shrugged. “I can’t help if I feel left out, but forcing you to tell me everything isn’t how friendship is supposed to work. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Damian’s smile was small, and it felt a bit out of place on his face. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“Perhaps instead of a restaurant, I can take you both to the mansion for your lunch?” Alfred, the god damn traitor, suggested.

He wanted to say ‘have you lost your god damn marbles, Alfred?’ but he didn’t.

Instead, he said, “You sure Alfred?” like a fucking loser.

Marinette glanced at him. “You don’t have to if you aren’t comforta-”

“No, it’s not that,” he assured. Why would she think he was uncomfortable? His brothers were menaces, but he was used to them! Marinette, however... “My brothers can be… rambunctious.”

Drake and Todd were going to have a fucking field day, especially after what they pulled last night over the comms. He was lucky Grayson was working today. But those two motherfuckers…

Marinette smiled. “I can handle them if that’s the only reason you’re nervous.”

Damian thought for a moment.

Fucking fuck fuck.

He hoped she could. Because if they caused her any unnecessary harm or discomfort he would murder their asses.

With pleasure too.

But one look told Damian that he wouldn’t need to. This girl was going to be the death of him. He hoped the weedkiller was miraculously early.

He sighed. “Alfred, please talk us to the mansion.”

“My pleasure, Master Damian.”

Fucking fuck fuck.

[purplecloaks]

A Doe Becomes a Wolf, Part One

Pairing: Jon Snow x OC, Robb Stark x OC

Warnings: Cursing, smut, loss of virginity

Words: 2211

Everything tag: @squirrelacorngliterfarts @kawennote09 @sherrybaby14

           The carriage feels stuffed with four people. I feel like I’m sitting on top of my mother and siblings. I long to be riding my own horse, like Father and Joffrey. But that’s not ladylike apparently. Fuck that. I don’t want to be a fucking lady if I can’t ride a horse. The carriage slows down. I nearly beat the door down trying to get out.

           I look around. We are not in Winterfell. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Again. I let out a groan and drop to my knees. Why can’t we be there already? We’ve been riding for a month.

           “Ilyana!” I hear a shriek from behind me. It’s Mother. I look back at her. “Get up! You’re going to ruin your dress!”

           “I’d rather be wearing trousers anyway,” I say. She gives me a look. I slowly stand up. Myrcella and Tommen come out of the carriage. Father walks over with Jaime behind him.

           “When will we be there, Father?” I groan.

           Father laughs. “Tomorrow. We will be in Winterfell tomorrow, Ilyana.”

           I groan again. Then an idea pops into my head. “Mother!” I spin towards her.

           “Yes?” she says.

           “Can I ride my horse tomorrow? Since it’s the last day? Please?” I ask.

           Her eyebrows push together. “Ilyana, we’ve had this discussion before.”

           “Oh, just let her! It’s too cramped in the carriage for her. We brought her horse for a damn reason,” Father says.

           Mother pauses. “Yes dear,” she says finally. I do a little dance. Mother rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic, Ilyana.”

           “Wonder where I get it from,” I say. Myrcella and Tommen laugh.

           A table is set up for us to eat dinner at. There’s bread, cheese, almonds, apples, plums, salted pork, and pigeon pie. Way too much food for the six of us. I sit in between Tommen and Mother, Father is across from me. We eat in silence, as usual. Mother, Father, Joff, and I drink wine. Myrcella and Tommen drink water because Mother says they’re too young to drink wine.

           Tyrion joins us halfway through. He pulls up a chair next to me and picks at my pork. I playfully glare at him. He’s by far the person I’m closest with. When we finish dinner, I lay on the ground to watch the sunset. Tyrion sits by a tree reading something close by. It gets dark fast though and I’m called to bed.

           The next morning, I’m excited to put on trousers. Excited to ride today. I wonder how far it is to Winterfell. I kind of hope it’s a long way because I want to ride for a while.

           When I get outside, Mother, Myrcella, and Tommen are just about to get into the carriage. I wave at them. Father comes up to me.

           “Your mother isn’t happy that I’m letting you ride today. She says that you need to be a lady,” he says. I roll my eyes. “I know how you feel about that.”

           “She’s suffocating,” I say.

           He laughs. “I know what you mean. Soon, you’ll be married, and you won’t have to deal with her.”

           I pause. “Who am I marrying?”

           He hesitates. “I’m hoping Ned will let me marry you to his eldest son Robb.”

           “When were you going to tell me this?” I ask.

           “It’s not set in stone yet, Ilyana. And it’s not the end of the world,” he says.

           “What about Myrcella and Tommen?” I ask.

           “What about them?”

           “I’ll miss them,” I admit.

           Father laughs. “You won’t miss Joffrey?”

           I wrinkle my nose. “Would you?”

           He laughs again, loudly. He claps me on the back and walks over to his horse. “Better start the ride.”

           The journey to Winterfell passes quickly. Soon enough we’re entering the gates. I hop from my horse and hand the reins off to someone. Mother steps out of the carriage as I walk over there.

           “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I tease.

           Her expression softens. “It was less cramped, I must admit.”

           “Father wants me to marry Robb Stark,” I say quietly.

           Her eyes narrow. “Of course, he does.”

           “Did he talk to you about it?” I ask.

           “Of course not. I would have told you earlier,” she says.

           “I figured,” I say.

           She cups my cheeks. “I guess it is time. You’re sixteen. I don’t particularly want to though. But your father will force me. He’ll say I’ve held onto you long enough.”

           I laugh. Father calls me then and I run over to him. He’s in front of Ned Stark.

           “This is my eldest daughter Ilyana. I had hoped she would marry your eldest, Robb,” Father says.

           Ned smiles at me. “It could be arranged, your grace.”

           Father nods then Ned and him go to the crypts.

           Ned’s wife comes up to me. “So, you’ll be marrying Robb?”

           “I guess so, Lady Stark,” I nod.

           She smiles. “Please call me Catelyn.” She holds my hand in hers. “Let me introduce you to Robb.” She pulls me towards a curly, auburn haired boy. I don’t see my mother glaring at us. “Robb,” Catelyn calls.

           Robb looks over towards us. “Yes?”

           “This is Ilyana Baratheon. According to your father and the King, you will be marrying her,” Catelyn says.

           Robb takes my hand from Catelyn and kisses it. “It would be a pleasure to marry you, my princess.”

           I laugh. “Just Ilyana.”

           He smiles and takes my arm and pulls me away. It’s then I get a good look at who he was talking to, another curly haired boy, this time black. He looks to be the same age. I assume him to be Ned Stark’s bastard, Jon. He looks over suddenly, like I had called his name. Our eyes meet and I feel something surge through me. I get the urge to run to him and take him in my arms. He takes a step towards me like he feels the same but then shakes his head and steps back again. This happens in the span of a few seconds. I look back to Robb to see if he noticed but he didn’t seem to.

           “Who were you talking to?” I ask warily when we’re away.

           “That was my half brother Jon,” he says.

           I knew it. What was that feeling? I shake my head and try to put it behind me.

           Robb brings me to their godswood. We sit down beside the Weirwood tree, next to a black pond. We’re silent for a moment.

           “I’ll try to be a good wife,” I say hesitantly.

           “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Robb says.

           It’s silent again.

           “How many siblings do you have?” I ask.

           He smiles. “Four not including Jon. There’s Sansa, Ayra, Bran, and Rickon.”

           “I have…” I start.

           “I know. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen,” he laughs. “I know a bit more about you than you know about me.”

           I blush. “I guess so.”

           “How do you all get on?” Robb asks.

           I sigh. “Joffrey is a dick. Myrcella and Tommen are sweet though. But they’re also so much younger than me.”

           “I get on with all of my siblings,” Robb says.

           “Including Jon?”

           He laughs. “Including Jon.”

           “What’s it like having a half brother?” I ask.

           He shifts. “You have plenty.”

           My eyes widen. “Well yes. But none of them live with me.”

           “I suppose that’s true. My mother doesn’t like him, obviously. But he loves us and is kind to us,” he says.

           I hum.

           “What was it like growing up in King’s Landing?” he asks.

           I pause. “It’s much hotter there. Stuffy in more ways than one. There’s always someone guarding you. My upbringing is probably about the same as your sisters. I wasn’t raised to uphold the throne; my brother was,” I finally say. “You were raised to lead the North.”

           “Yes. It’s not unlike how your brother was raised to take the throne, although I won’t be ruling the kingdoms,” he says.

There’s a pause in the conversation.

“What’s that?” he asks suddenly, pointing to my waist.

           I pull my dagger out of the sheath. “It’s my dagger. My father gave it to me for my thirteenth name day.” I place it in his hands. “It’s Valyrian steel.”

           “Do you know how to use it?” he asks, looking down at the dagger.

           I laugh. “Yes. A sword too. I wanted to learn so Father had Jaime teach me.”

           Robb hands the dagger back to me and I sheath it.

           Suddenly a boy runs up to us. “It’s time for the feast,” he says.

           “Thanks Bran,” Robb says. He stands up and then helps me up. Bran runs back to the keep. “I shall walk you to the feast, my princess. Will you sit next to me?”

           “Sure, Robb,” I say. I take his arm. He leads me into the keep.

           When we get inside, Robb pulls my chair out for me. I smile as I sit down. He sits down beside me. Throughout the feast, we have polite conversation with each other and others. My mother keeps looking at me warily.

           After I’ve eaten my fill, I excuse myself and head outside. The cold air feels good on my hot cheeks. I walk into the courtyard and see a boy using a sword at a dummy. I recognize him as Jon. I stand and watch him for a moment before he notices me.

           “My princess,” he says, bowing his head slightly.

           “Please, just Ilyana,” I say. “Why aren’t you at the feast?”

           “Lady Stark thinks it would be impolite to seat a bastard with the royal family,” he says, putting his sword down and walking over to me.

           I laugh. “I wouldn’t have minded. I think the only one who would have minded would have been my mother. My father has dozens of bastards.”

           “Do any of them live with him?” he asks.

           “I suppose not. But it’s all the same to me, Jon. You’re still a person,” I say.

           “Some wouldn’t agree,” he says.

           “Fuck them,” I say.

           He laughs. Then he pauses. “You’re very beautiful, Ilyana.”

           I blush. “Thank you, Jon. You’re quite handsome yourself.”

           “If I was a true born, we might’ve been getting married.” He steps closer. We’re a hair away from each other.

           “Do you feel it too?” I whisper.

           “Yes. What is it?” he asks.

           “I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this before, Jon,” I say.

           “I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you Ilyana?” he murmurs.

           “I’m going to be your sister by law soon, Jon,” I hedge.

           “You’re not right now,” he says.

           “True,” I admit and then I nod my head.

           He surges forward the small amount and presses his lips against mine. It’s soft at first, but it’s like we can’t get enough of each other; the kiss soon turns heated. I pull away after a moment, out of breath and lean my forehead against his.

           “I want more,” I admit after a minute of silence.

           Jon stares at me for a moment before he turns and tugs me after him. Neither of us notice Robb going back inside after witnessing our kiss.

           Jon takes me to a broken tower. He turns towards me and stares. “Have you…have you ever…?” he stutters.

           “No,” I shake my head, now nervous. “Have you?”

           He shakes his head.

           “We won’t be interrupted here?” I ask.

           “No. No one comes here,” he says.

           I step closer to him and cup his cheek. Our lips meet in a soft kiss. He lays me on the floor and pulls his pants down to his knees. His cock is hard and rubbing against me. I pull away from the kiss and take my belt off, throwing it aside, then take pants down as well. He rubs his cock against my slit a few times before pushing in. It hurts at first but then he’s bottomed out. He pulls out and thrusts back in.

           “Ilyana,” He whispers in my ear.

           “Jon,” I moan out. It feels so good. I pull his lips to mine.

           I recognize what I’m doing is wrong, but in that moment, pressed so close to Jon, I don’t care. Eventually a feeling seeps through me and I realize that I’ve cum. Jon’s thrusts stutter, he pushes in deep and cums as well. After that, we just lay there kissing. I think we both knew that this feeling was love in the purest form even though we had only met that day. Is this what having a soulmate feels like?

           I don’t know how long we lie there, just being with each other, but eventually I come to realize that people will be looking for us. Or at least me. I didn’t know if Jon’s family would mind if he disappeared. I kiss him one last time and then push him off me. I stand and pull up my pants. I grab my belt and put it back on.

           “We’d better get back,” I say shyly. “Will we…will we do this again?”

           He looks down sadly and shakes his head. “Probably not. You’re going to be married soon and I’m leaving for the Wall.”

           I kiss him fiercely. “I’m glad it was you,” I say when we part. He smiles.

[writsgrimmyblog]

WIP Folder Meme

My darling friend @gracerene09 tagged me to do this which I’m answering from here instead of my other blog for ease because I’m going through my unanswered meme tags this morning. Thank you, lovely!

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I’ve got so many fucking WIPs I had to put this under a cut. HOW FUN. I love listing out my half-completed projects so I can see how little progress I have made with any of them.

Fest WIPs

HD Owlpost 2018 #1

HD Owlpost 2018 #2

HD Erised 2018 

Next Gen Fest 2018 

Sirius Black Fest 2018 

Secret Snarry Swap 2018 

Tomlinshaw Exchange 2018 

Pretty self-explanatory. These are all fests I am writing for that post between now and the end of this year that I haven’t submitted my fics for yet. Some of which may be overdue :/

Harry Potter General WIPs

Drarry - Confessions

Drarry - Sanctify

Drarry - First Time

Drapery

Jeddy - 7 Minutes in Heaven 

Jeddy - First Kiss

Snarry - Voice Kink

Snarry - LGBT Politics

Snarry - Why the Caged Bird Sings

Wolfstar - American Road Trip

The first two Drarry fics are the second and third parts to Bedroom Hymns. 

The ‘first time’ Drarry is pretty self-explanatory.

The Drapery (Snape/Harry/Draco) is a project I’m planning to work on for 2019 which is non-fest related and hopefully a collab with an artist. 

The Jeddy and the first Snarry are pretty much what they say on the tin. 

The second Snarry is a long project I’ve been working on which brings LGBT politics into the wizarding world and explores themes of homophobia/internalised homophobia through the lens of a cross-generational relationship, i.e. how ones experience might differ based on the time they were born.

Why the Caged Bird Sings is a veela Snape fic I wrote ages ago (where it’s his voice that holds the veela allure as opposed to his looks, kind of like a siren thing) that I am considering re-working and putting up on AO3. 

The Wolfstar road trip fic is what I was originally working on for Wolfstar Big Bang, about Sirius and Remus on a road trip in 1979, discovering America’s LGBT spaces, coming of age, coming out and so on. I sadly didn’t finish it but it’s not abandoned.

Radio One RPF / One Direction

50 Reasons - Because Niall Can’t Keep a Secret

50 Reasons - Because Cricket is Boring

50 Reasons - Because He’s In A Rut (sequel to Because He’s In Heat)

50 Reasons - Because Louis Interrupts Bake Off

50 Reasons - Because Louis Doesn’t Know How to Play the Trumpet

Tomlinshaw - Hook-Up App 

Tomlinshaw - Champagne Supernova 

Tomlinshaw - Tonight You’re Perfect

Tomlinshaw - God’s Own Country

Tomlinshaw - The Hogwarts Series

Thirteen - Stylinshaw Doctor Who AU

Gryles - Sugar Daddy

Gryles - Kink Exploration

Stylinshaw - Medicine 

SO MANY WIPS. God, I need to finish something. 

The 50 Reasons ones are from my Tomlinshaw 50 Reasons to Have Sex series which currently only has three reasons, ha ha. Although I have more prompts than this, these are the ones that are actually WIPs that have some significant progress. Mission for 2019 is to get these done, even though there’s no huge rush as each fic within the series is a standalone.

The Hook-Up App fic is the one where Nick and Louis start talking via a hook-up app and things progress from there. It’s nearly finished and I’m excited about posting that. 

Champagne Supernova is a non-famous LA AU where Louis is rich, bored and missing home, and Nick is on his holidays. They meet in a record store and argue over who gets to buy the last copy of Oasis’s What’s the Story. The only solution is for Nick to come back to Louis’s to listen to it. WHAT ON EARTH COULD HAPPEN NEXT? It’s really anyone’s guess ;-)

Tonight You’re Perfect is an angsty, Nick is scared of commitment kind of thing. I wanted the focus of this to be Nick’s angsting rather than Louis’s.

God’s Own Country is a Tomlinshaw loosely inspired by the film. 

The Hogwarts Series is the follow up to Little Lion Man. So much to explore in this next installment! I’m really excited about getting into this next year.

Thirteen. MY DOCTOR WHO AU. With Nick as the thirteenth doctor, Louis as the companion and Harry as a Captain Jack sort of figure. I picked that up again recently, but it’s going to be looooong so I have no idea when it will get finished and I don’t want to start posting another WIP until the majority of it is written so I can post chapters consistently instead of with large swathes of time between them, as it makes me really anxious. I now have @shiftylinguini and @candybarrnerd cheering me on with it though and have started my Doctor Who rewatch so hopefully that will help! 

I think the others are pretty self-explanatory, LOL. I basically want to write a loooooong, super kinky Gryles. It’s in progress ;-)

Miscellaneous 

Festive 500s Fills

Destiel

My document with the fills I’m working on for my Festive 500s a fic a day throughout December, and a longer, tropey Destiel I’ve been poking around at after trying my hand at them for the first time this year with Baby Love.

Tagging: @shiftylinguini, @candybarrnerd, @silveredsound, @nightwideopen, @disgruntledkittenface, @lqtraintracks, @bixgirl1 and @magicalrocketships if you care to do this and haven’t done so already.

[rachel-langella-author]

A Creepshow Holiday Special

I can still remember being outside at recess, reading a story in a horror comic in which a teddy bear enacts gruesome revenge on behalf of its former owner. (Found it thanks to Google! "Terrible Teddy" in Ghost Manor #23 from 1975.) I don't know why that particular story stuck with me out of all the horror comics I read as a kid, but certain panels are still emblazoned on my brain. Such as this one:

Horror comics--and by extension, the Creepshow franchise--are a continued source of fascination for me, even though they're cheesy, gory (with the occasional dip into gross and crude), and about as subtle as a shovel to the face. I love them, maybe because they revel in the grotesque in a campy way that never takes itself too seriously.

A Creepshow Holiday Special (2020) is a stand-alone story rather than an anthology piece. Clocking in at about 45 minutes, it's got all the campy, creepy qualities you'd expect from the franchise with a bonus of being tied up with holiday tinsel. SPOILERS ahead!

The show starts off with our protagonist, Robert, trying to talk his way into what appears to be a 12 step program meeting being held in the basement of a church. Robert thinks he's a werewolf, and the group holding the meeting is Shapeshifters Anonymous. The group is small, consisting only of Irena (were-cheetah), Andy (were-boar), Scott (were-turtle), Phyllis (hippopotamus furry), and Ryan, who shows up to each meeting but doesn't talk and hasn't revealed his theriomorph form to the group.

Irena is, of course, a reference to the original Cat People (1942). The doctor whom Robert visits to complain of "intestinal issues" is named Talbot, in a nod to Lon Chaney Jr's Lawrence Talbot in The Wolf Man (1941). But did we really need to see Robert take the stool sample Dr. Talbot requested in a clear plastic container? Really?

A few flashbacks later, and Robert learns that he really is a werewolf, and he was probably cursed. The good news is, he can be cured by the old woman who cursed him. The bad news is, he ate her. And her dog. The deepest cut (that I spotted, at least) was that the dog was named Maleva, which is the name of the Romani woman who is the mother of the werewolf that bites Larry Talbot in The Wolf Man. How do we know the dog is named Maleva? Robert horks up the dog's name tag the morning after.

Before Robert can figure out what to do next, the church is attacked by a horde of Santa's Helpers.

Why? Because Kris Kringle is the immortal and eternal enemy of all theriomorphs.

Look, just roll with it, okay?

Scott reveals a lost book of the Bible: The Book of Bob. It recounts how Jesus's thirteenth disciple, Bob (yes, really), was given the gift of lycanthropy to help rid the world of evil people. Apparently all carnivorous theriomorphs instinctively go after bad people when they transform in honor of Bob, I guess? But the power went to Bob's head, so God created Kris Kringle to take Bob down a peg or two. God decked out Kris with armor and powers, but that wasn't enough. Kringle went to Hell and got Lucifer to replace his hands with razor sharp blades (Satan's Claws).

For hundreds of years, Kringle has been hunting Bob and killing any other theriomorphs he finds along the way, and unfortunately, one of his helpers recognized Robert as a werewolf and tracked him to the church.

Why did other theriomorphs come into existence if God was so unhappy with Bob? Who knows! Why are there non-carnivorous theriomorphs like Scott the were-turtle if the whole reason they were created to begin with was to help eliminate evil in the world? Who knows!

The group successfully defends their base against the marauding Helpers, but Santa Claus himself is coming to town, and now they're out of ammo. For the first time, Ryan speaks up. He passes out a "metamorphosis potion" that will let them transform and still keep their human minds so they can take down wave two of the Helpers.

But even their collective power isn't enough to withstand the might of Kringle--and that's when Ryan confronts Kringle and reveals himself to be none other than Bob himself.

Bob transforms and squares off against Kringle in what should be an epic battle of literally biblical proportions, except that Bob looks like a haunted house animatronic. An upscale haunted house, mind you, but an animatronic nonetheless.

Kringle issues profanity-laden threats while Bob flails his elongated arms vaguely in Kringle's direction. Before the battle can be joined, however, Phyllis beheads Kringle with a scythe previously carried by one of the Helpers.

Daddy--I mean, Bob transforms back, conveniently shirtless.

As a reward for helping him defeat Kringle, Bob grants the theriomorphs the ability to transform at will and retain their human minds. He suggests that Phyllis sit on (dead, headless) Santa's lap and make a Christmas wish. She does so, and the residual magic remaining in Kringle's lifeless corpse swirls around her in a golden array as her wish is granted.

Final Thoughts: I mean, it's Creepshow! It's exactly what you'd expect from the franchise, so if you like Creepshow in general, you'll probably like this holiday special. No jump scares. Lots of blood, but it's all done for campy comedic effect. The SFX are pretty good except for Bob's werewolf form. Funny, albeit occasionally in the groaner way, and not very scary. I'll give it 3 out of 5 zombie Santas.

[iamthechocobabe]

A True Nightmare

I figured after the Episode Ignis trailer, we all needed some Ardyn getting his ass kicked a bit (though keep in mind there’s only so much poor Mallory can do). Don’t be put off by the creepy vibes at first of the chapter, Mallory’s gonna show this asshole who’s boss by the end (and NO, not in that way guys-NOT AN ARDYN LOVE STORY, ‘member?) 

Sorry that it’s a little long, but it’s been going way too slow for me and I wanted to get the story going already. Oh well, what’s done is done, I guess. 

Tagging the Senpais: @roses-and-oceans @bespectacled-girl @nifwrites @cupnoodle-queen @themissimmortal @gladiolus-mamacitia 

A True Nightmare

~Chapter 4~ SFW Word Count: 3,885

Mallory was trying her hardest not to appear cynical as Noctis looked at the car with a forlorn look; obviously, this car meant a lot to the crowned prince and his friends seemed to understand that, but Mallory was having a hard time fighting the urge to go up to him and yell 'it's just a CAR'. 

Boys and their cars, I guess-Mallory thought. 

A far off explosion lighting up the night sky got Mallory's attention and the realization hit that they had absolutely no idea where they were. Mallory had to drive a different route to get into Gralea and she only knew the one route, but how were they supposed to find their way through Gralea without a map? Mallory cursed herself for not going with instinct and packing a map with her, telling herself that she knew the way and that it was just a waste of space. It was a fucking piece of paper, Mallory, you had room. 

"Where to now?" Mourning was over, apparently and the three joined Mallory as she stared at a street sign, trying to get her bearings. As if sensing her confusion, Ignis spoke with a slight tilt of the head to better focus his hearing. "You do know where we're going, correct?" 

"That is an excellent question," Mallory mumbled, wanting to kick herself as she tried to piece together the last time she had been to Gralea and to Zegnautus. A piece of FUCKING PAPER, Mallory, what the hell is wrong with you?

"You didn't bring a map? What kind of an 'assassin' are you?" 

"Shut up for a sec, yeah?" Mallory didn't glance at Gladio as she fished out her disposable flip phone from her backpack, shooting a quick text. Got lost, am at Crysallis Ave., how do I get to Z. from here? Closing the phone, Mallory waited, hoping and praying that the response would be quick, partially because Mallory knew if it was that she got out all right. 

"You're texting? Who are you texting?" Noctis sighed exasperatedly and tugged on a few ends of his hair. "That's it, we're dead," 

"She's a friend, and if you want to go die in a corner somewhere, by all means, please do," Mallory was beginning to lose her patience with these guys (minus Ignis, who didn't really seem too judgmental of Mallory, just observant), but ignored it when her phone buzzed and a little mail icon showed up on the front screen where the clock usually was. 

Wait where r u plz dont tell me ur in Nflhm. 

Relief flooded through; the knowledge of one of Mallory's closest friends being safe was like a thousand pound weight being dropped off. But when Mallory read the words, a bad feeling began to grow in her stomach as she responded. Didnt u get my txts

No wait There was a short pause before the texts started flooding Mallory's phone, so fast that Mallory didn't have time to read a text before another one popped up on her screen. 

mal get out serisly shits bad u need 2 go chncllrs gone crzy mts & daemons evrywhr ppl r missing

Well, this was bad-people missing and MT's roaming the streets? Mallory sensed this was a bit more than a coincidence, blowing a piece of hair from her eyes and typed as fast as she could with the old fashioned phone. cant exactly get out now am stuck need 2 get 2 Z. help me out here

A few seconds went by, Mallory tapping her foot impatiently the whole time, when the phone buzzed again. 

u die on me Mal I swear 2 Gods go on crysallis til u get 2 casey dr. go right til u get 2 train tracks follow train tracks military entrnce thre

Mallory sighed, stress and oncoming panic dropping from her shoulders as she looked at the three with new found confidence about where to go. "Head down the road," She explained the directions before they all started following, Ignis occasionally faltering as they maneuvered the road designated for shipping containers. When they reached the railroad tracks, practically destoryed with train cars and shipping containers that laid askew around the tracks, Mallory shot a quick text. Thx Ky owe u

u wont owe me if ur dead b carful

Snickering, Mallory put the phone in her backpack just as they reached a stray train car carefully and barely propped on some debris with a small gap underneath that would give the four enough crawling space. Despite how the thing looked like it was the tiniest nudge away from collapsing, Noctis was already half way under there and Mallory quickly reached forward and pulled him back. She didn't necessarily mean to make the crown prince fall on his butt, but he glared all the same. 

"What?" Noctis stood up, dusting the dirt from his pants like a little kid with a grumpy face to match. 

"MT's are probably guarding the fortress," She didn't mean to sound snippy, but this was basic shit 101 and Mallory was starting to feel more and more like a babysitter every minute. Tired and irritated, Mallory went over to a broken side ladder on the train car before gesturing to Gladio. "Give me a boost and I'll see what we're dealing with here," 

"Isn't that dangerous?" Gladio asked the question, but maybe he figured there was no point in arguing with her because he just bent down and linked his fingers together so Mallory could boost herself up to the ladder and start climbing. 

"When are you assholes going to figure out that I can take care of myself?" Grumbling was always a thing Mallory hated to do, she hated sounding whiny and grumpy. People already thought she was a grouch because of the way she looked and her naturally stern eyes, she didn't need constant bitching to help her in that department. Working with these three, she was starting to remember why she preferred working assignments and stuff by herself, only occasionally teaming up with Aranea. 

Still, Mallory had bigger things to worry about, especially when she reached the top of the traincar. 

"How many are there?" Noctis called up, but Mallory couldn't find an answer. Confusion clouded her brain as she processed what was easily the most popular entrance into the fortress, aside from the main entrance. "Mallory?" 

Shaking her head, Mallory forced herself to respond, though it came out as choked as she was trying to piece everything together. "Nothing. There's no one here," 

No one. One of the most used entrances into Zegnautus, and not a soul was in sight, no one to guard the most heavily guarded megafortress in the world. The whole thing reeked of wrong, something definitely off, but what could it be? What reason could the fortress have to possibly leave itself defenseless? 

"What's going on?" 

She was so focused that she barely noticed Noctis popping up from under the train car-just as she shouted for him to get back, Noctis had accidentally knocked into a bar, which was apparently the only thing holding the train car up, as the moment it was loose the car decided now was the time to fall. Failing to keep her footing, Mallory soon tumbled down the side of the car, winding up stuck on the ground, separated from the others by derailed train cars and shipping containers. 

"Guys?" Mallory shot up to her feet, checking around her for enemies with her gun while calling out. "Anyone?" 

There was no answer, but Mallory swore she could hear vague yelling and running feet, so she continued to yell, hoping her words would reach someone. "If you guys can hear me, head into Zegnautus-on the thirteenth floor is a common area with a cafeteria. Meet me there!" 

"On the thirteenth floor is a common area with a cafeteria. Meet me there!”

Ardyn heard his own breath inhale rather than feel it-the same thing had happened when he saw Aryelle appear on top of the train car, hearing himself suck his breath in rather than feel it. The little trick he had when he showed Aryelle the memory of how they met didn't seem to phase this Aryelle, other than seeming to confuse her, but he was determined...of what, he still wasn't quite sure. Every time he saw her, despite how she was much more stern than the Aryelle he knew, he wanted to see her, to know her, to make her see him. 

And as he stood up to head to the common area in the megafortress, his promise of so many years ago rang in his ears. You will know my redemption. 

A furious kick to the stubborn vending machine gave Mallory what she wanted, a simple can of Ebony. While she hated coffee, despised the bitter taste, the past days of being on a train to Gralea with little to no sleep due to nerves was making her exhausted. She figured she needed the extra caffeine to keep herself on her feet, she just hated the fact that the stubborn machine ate up the last of her gil without giving her what she wanted. A little kick showed that machine what, though the stinging in Mallory's ankle was making her regret her rash decision. 

The bitter taste made her want to gag, but Mallory forced it down her throat before crumbling the can and disposing of it in a recycle bin (why there was a recycle bin in the most industrial place in Niflheim, Mallory would never know). She scooted up onto a picnic bench style table and tried to force herself to relax, though the blaring red light and the rustling of daemon feet in the hallways outside was making it difficult to do so. 

She had managed to clear out the common area fairly easily, as there were only a few daemons in the room when she got there. Mallory left the big metal doors to the common area unlocked, but she would still tense anytime a scurry of feet would approach the door, then sigh with relief as the feet scurried away. But it had been almost three hours of waiting and Mallory was starting to get worried. 

More footsteps-this time, though, the foot falls were different-rather than being hasty, or sloppy (depending on the daemon on the other side), these were careful foot steps and they were definitely human. But Mallory could feel, almost know that the prince and his entourage would not have been walking so lazily down the hallway and stop casually in front of the door, neither opening it nor locking it. Just stand there-whoever this person was, Mallory had a feeling they knew she was in there. 

Reaching for her gun once again, Mallory scooted off the table and carefully placed her feet on the floor. 

Only the floor was different-the common area had grating all throughout the floor, but the floor was now suddenly smooth, like marble. The texture (or lack thereof) from the floor caused Mallory to look down, only to see grey marble flooring versus the common areas grating that looked to some of the prison cells below. 

Naturally, Mallory looked up-only she wasn't in the common area anymore. 

Red blinking lights and sirens were replaced with a peaceful and calm hallway exterior, with the same grey, old fashioned marble decorating the walls. Paintings and ceiling high windows gave the place almost a homely look and now, Mallory couldn't help but feel panic growing in her stomach. 

Mallory had been so on edge, so on the run since the train that she honestly hadn't even had time to think of the weird vision of the barn and the red haired man. Now she was forced to face the reality that maybe the stress was making her lose her mind, maybe years of taking care of Ari and constant close calls with death had finally made Mallory's mind snap. 

Foot steps-again, only behind her. They brought Mallory out of the panic and she whirled around to aim her gun behind her, only there wasn't a soul in sight. There was only the peaceful hallway and...Mallory could hear it again. The humming. A four note lullaby, the same four notes hummed over and over again and it might have been peaceful in different circumstances. 

Walking carefully down the hallway, checking behind her back every few feet to make sure no one was behind her, Mallory shouldn't have honestly noticed the paintings. But there they were and the sight made Mallory stop, partially in awe and partially in fear. 

The paintings on the walls were all the same and they were all of...Mallory? 

No, it was someone who looked just like her. Mallory's hair was the same shade of dark black, but the woman in the painting's hair was longer, stretching down to her waist in long waves. Her facial features were the same, though, with her slightly pointed nose, her heart shaped lips and high cheekbones. Of course, the eyes-the same, mysterious and deep dark green, an almost unworldly color that had been in her family for years and years. 

Mallory instinctively backed away, the woman's eyes almost following her as she tried to leave when something stopped her dead in her tracks. Eyes widening, Mallory leaned forward, positive she was seeing things. 

On the woman's wrist was what looked like a soulmate mark...but it wasn't any mark. 

It was just like Mallory's on her left shoulder, the same shape with the same points, just in a different spot. 

"Aryelle," 

That name again...looking over, Mallory saw the same red haired man again coming down the corridor, only this time he looked a little older-a little meaner too, with a confident and smug look versus the man from the barn, who was young with an easy smile who seemed almost naive. But when he met Mallory's gaze, his golden irises almost softened, though the smug smile he wore was still bitter and cold as he approached. 

When he came within five feet, Mallory instinctively back up and aimed her gun at the man, though he just chuckled at the sight of a gun aimed between his eyes. 

"How different you are now...I suppose it doesn't matter, does it?" With a long and deep sigh, the man turned to the painting and gazed with a wonder and love that only his eyes shown at the woman in the painting. "She was just like the soulmate mark on her wrist...a star. Beautiful to look at, but unattainable to the human touch," With the same look of fondness in his eyes, but still not in the rest of his face, the man touched the back of his fingers gently to the woman in the painting's face, gently stroking the canvas. 

Mallory shivered, swearing she could feel icy cold fingers against her cheek. "What's happening to me?" The whisper was more of a question for herself than anyone else, but the man turned his attention away from the painting to focus once again on her. 

"I promised that day that I would show you and everyone my redemption...at last, that day has come," With a grand sweep, the man knelt before her, his warm and loving golden irises in the cold face gazing at Mallory. She tried to shake the foggy feeling out of her mind, but she couldn't, couldn't fight the odd sense of longing in her stomach and the race of her heartbeat. She knew logically that none of this made sense, that she didn't know this man, but she still found herself crouching down beside him. She still felt her heart flutter like crazy when he grazed the back of his cold fingers along her cheek. 

"Aryelle," he whispered, inching closer and closer with each word he spoke. "My soul...my half...my star...my life..." 

He was so close that she could smell a bitter stench of cologne, could feel the hot stinking breath on her face, but she couldn't force herself to stand up. Couldn't force herself to think as he slowly closed his eyes as a single phrase chanted in her head. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong. 

But she still felt her eyes closing, but was somehow able to fight the draw to close her eyes when a brilliant blue object appeared just over the man's shoulder. 

A blue feather? 

A biting cold and snowy wind almost knocked Mallory off her feet and onto her bottom, but she steadied herself with the palms of her hands as she stayed crouched. The man and the peaceful corridor was gone, but it was replaced by the whiteness of a snow storm, the cold biting into her skin and if she wasn't questioning her sanity, Mallory would have been relieved that she was wearing her winter coat. 

"What's happening to me?!?!" Mallory didn't even hear her own scream over the wind of the storm, but she was too frozen and panicked to care at this point. 

Because the image of Ari, alone in a cold and sunless world with no one to protect her, flooded Mallory's mind. The image of Ari panicking as daemon's surrounded her wouldn't leave Mallory and she screamed with no one but the wind to hear. Her sister, unable to function, now alone in this world, unable to defend herself...

Because of Mallory-her lack of sanity. While she always knew that her missions were dangerous, she always had the confidence to come back home to her sister. She figured if she did die, it would be because of a shot to the head. 

Not because she had lost her mind. 

Through the white blanket of snow and sleet, a sudden image appeared. The image waved and moved, almost like a window curtain flapping in the wind, but Mallory could clearly see snippets of something happening in the image. Almost like watching a TV, Mallory watched the red headed man make grand flourishes to King Regis, making promises of peace and tranquility, but going back to the Empire to signal the attack on Insomnia. Mallory cringed as the man bent down by the oracle with a cold and cynical look, sinking a dagger into her stomach as Lady Lunafreya's eyes went wide in pain and fear. Mallory wanted to claw her own ears out at hearing Ignis Scientia's screams of pain at being blinded by the man, his cold and smug look never once going away as he smiled like he enjoyed bringing so much pain to someone. She wanted to cry as she watched the man taunt and mock a young blonde boy as he sat on the ground and practically sobbed, though she didn't know over what. 

All that pain and misery...brought on by this man. 

A hand grabbed onto her left wrist, squeezing so tightly that the bones might snap underneath as the snow storm melted away and somehow, Mallory knew she was back in reality. The man was back, only he now appeared angry as he tightened the hold on Mallory's wrist. A blue, ethereal glow made his eyes look almost black as he tried to yank Mallory beside her, despite her resistance as she placed her palm on the cold, metal grating of the floor below her. 

"Aryelle," The man hissed, his voice dripping with the venom of a snake as a dark, oozing blackness started to appear from him. "Come to me," 

It was at that moment that Mallory realized that this man, the person from her visions, was a person of pure and horrific evil. She didn't know what he wanted with her and she didn't care, she only knew she had to escape. With quick reflexes she had learned over years of dangerous missions, she grabbed the switchblade out of her back pocket, flipped it up and sank the knife into the man's leg, right beneath his knee cap. A simple twist and pull popped the knee cap out of place, though the man didn't roar like others she had performed the trick on had. But he did flinch and hiss through his teeth, clearly in pain as Mallory left the blade forgotten in his knee and stood up to run away. 

"Mallory!" Gladiolus, Ignis and a young blonde boy, the one from the snow storm vision, appeared behind her, all of them out of breath as they looked at the man pulling the knife out of his knee. "Where's Noct?" Gladiolus asked her. 

Mallory shook her head, sure confusion was as clear on her face as it felt. "I thought he was with you guys," 

"We sent him on torwards the crystal," Ignis explained with his eyes cast ahead, not really focusing on anything due to his blindness. "We were surrounded-has he absorbed the power from the crystal yet?" 

"He's gone," 

The four turned their attention to the man as he straightened up, looking almost un-bothered now despite his knee being severely damaged. He turned and focused his smug gaze at the group, but he focused on Mallory, his body framed by the blue glow from the crystal behind him. "I'm afraid you won't be seeing your friend again for quite sometime," 

"What?" Confusion and whiplash from being jerked around from so many places in the span of what felt like less than ten minutes clouded Mallory's mind, but she didn't have time to react as Gladiolus summoned his broadsword and swung it at the man with a roar and the blonde boy shot him twice in the back, the man falling with his hat rolling casually away. 

"Die, motherfucker," The blonde boy whispered, his voice choked with tears. 

"He's not dead," the words left Mallory's mouth before she really understood them, not sure how she knew he wasn't dead. And sure enough, he wasn't, as he stood up with his fedora and placed it casually on his head before turning and looking at Mallory and she almost wanted to scream at what she saw. 

The man was almost daemon like now, the whites in his eyes now inky black and oozing, making the bright golden irises stand out in contrast. His face and skin was now pale and cracked in several places, like a broken china doll and he now looked as evil as he was. 

"You will know my redemption, Aryelle," The words were fueled with anger and bitterness, but he didn't stay to explain what it meant as he simply strolled to the elevator, leaving the four alone in one of the capitals of magitek industries. 

It felt like the air returned to the room the minute the doors to the elevator closed and Mallory gasped and began to pant, not realizing before she had been holding her breath. As she collected herself, she realized she felt something wet and thick on her hand. 

Mallory prided herself on being calm and collected even in the grimmest of situations, but when she saw the man's daemon like black and oozy blood covering her hand from where she stabbed him, the scream she let loose practically echoed throughout all of Gralea. 

[yeonchi]

Generic Name, Generic Update

Some of you may be wondering why the Ecchi Waifu Network hasn’t been deleted by now. I stated that I would hold off on doing so until after the third stage of the protest (to be announced, will reblog when details come), but even then, I’m beginning to have second thoughts on my decision.

Firstly, the tag links in the archived pages actually link back to the relevant tag page on the blog, not a collection of posts in the archive with that tag, so they are counterproductive. There may also be some links on the main Waifu Network that lead to some posts on the Ecchi Waifu Network, so I don’t want to break them unless absolutely necessary (then again, those posts have likely become irrelevant, so that’s a moot point).

Secondly, believe it or not, there is still a little bit of activity happening on there following the NSFW ban, namely people liking some posts that weren’t flagged as such. If people find that blog, whether through the posts or reblogs. I still hope for the main Waifu Network to get some recognition, since I’ve put the link for it in the Ecchi Waifu Network’s blog description.

Thirdly, the blog hasn’t been marked as explicit; even if I did, I’m kind of glad I removed that setting. You might agree that the content on there isn’t NSFW enough to be considered “explicit”, even if Tumblr’s definition of “female-presenting nipples is a bit silly”.

As far as I know, Tumblr are only preventing explicit blogs from being viewed by anyone (other than their owners), not deleting them altogether. Even though I’m not a fan of this method, I should give them credit that they weren’t brought out by Facebook and gone the way of the zucc (at which point I would’ve deleted the Ecchi Waifu Network straight away). If the Ecchi Waifu Network does get hidden (at this point it’s no longer a matter of if, but when), then chances are that I will be deleting it. I have no intention of appealing the flagged posts (or blog if the inevitable happens) because I have no ground to stand on for them.

The prospect of reversing the NSFW ban is pretty much a bygone thought at this point, but there is a final hope I’m going to try, which is namely the third stage of the protest that I mentioned. This will be a week-long log off that is currently being planned for 1-8 February. In conjunction to this, they are also planning on mass tweeting official figures related to this and leaving negative reviews on the app stores just as they did in the second stage (I didn’t participate in it because I don’t use Twitter anymore). Once again, I’ll reblog the details when they come out.

So how have things gone for me following the NSFW ban, apart from all the stock taking I did? Believe it or not, a porn bot followed me (on this account, maybe the Waifu Network as well) in the past few days. Don’t bother looking for it because it’s already deleted, but from what I can recall, it had image posts with a linked description saying “Gay Porn” or something. No dicks were seen in the images, but I only looked at the blog for a second when I first saw it and only found out it was deleted when I tried to check a second time.

Some people were saying that the porn bots were using SFW content to conceal themselves, so I’m not surprised if that’s the way they are going. I don’t know if the bot owner deleted the account or Tumblr did, but if it were the latter, I’d probably give them props for doing it, even if they were prompted to by the reports.

Every now and then, I check my followers on here and the Waifu Network and block those that post pornography, bots or not (though admittedly, I’m a bit easy on those who post/reblog anime fanart, ecchi or hentai). I’ve blocked quite a few of those blogs and I’m not surprised if they were affected by the NSFW ban. The reason why I do this is because these two blogs are intended to be for a general audience and I don’t really like the sound of NSFW blogs following me.

When I made my last post on the Ecchi Waifu Network before the NSFW ban, I had 220 posts backed up. The number of posts has now dropped to 151 since the posts with “female-presenting nipples” were hidden (for the record, the main Waifu Network had 673 posts just before the NSFW ban; excluding the posts I made after it, that number is down to 672, so it wasn’t a big loss). Some posts were rightly flagged for having said content, while some were wrongly flagged as there was little to no nipple exposure at all. Ironically, there were a couple of posts with nipples that weren’t flagged, which just goes to show how flawed their content flagging system is.

Like I said in my 2018 review post, I don’t really have any plans for new segments; I’ll just be posting random stuff when I feel like it, just like the old times when I first joined Tumblr. The backup archive of the Ecchi Waifu Network is also available from here.

Just a side note before I finish this post. As with other issues like English dubs and the gender of the Thirteenth Doctor in Doctor Who, the NSFW ban has become another one of those issues where supporters for change are derided by trolls, opinion-neutrals or people in support of those moves. Sure, you can’t please everyone, but these people, who don’t support both sides getting a fair deal, sound like they are proud of cucking the people that are disadvantaged as a result of those changes.

This is a thing I learnt after about four-and-a-half years of ranting about English dubs; to big companies who provide non-consumable goods and services (including video games or social media), you are not the customer, you are the product. Like politicians, companies can do whatever they want to their services if it means they can spend less money or make more money. They could care less about the opinions of the “minority” because it’s not the “majority” that has those opinions. You’ll probably be feeling the same way when a company does something you disagree with. The more you oppose or troll anyone that has opposing opinions to a company’s proposed change, the more it will come back to bite you when they eventually turn on you.

In other words, Tumblr couldn’t care less about us if it means they can still earn money. If you think that people like us, who oppose the NSFW ban and/or support the log off protest, are wasting their time, then don’t blame us if Tumblr decides to close down. People are saying that Tumblr is dead because of the NSFW ban; don’t be a part of the problem if it actually dies.

UPDATE - 15 January 2019: Tumblr has now given us a section where we can review the posts that have been flagged on our blogs. Well, at least that’s one thing they listened to their users for. There was only one post that was flagged on the Waifu Network, so I’ve decided to appeal that, along with a few posts on the Ecchi Waifu Network that don’t have “female-presenting nipples”.

UPDATE - 17 January 2019: All appealed posts have been restored. My numbers are back to normal now, so maybe that was a bug on their end.

UPDATE - 19 January 2019: As mentioned, here are the details for the third stage of the protest!

[msu82]

Pajustji (Ch.2)

Heya! It only took a month, but I finally finished the second chapter. College tried to kill me, but here we are! Tagging: @markwatnae (The lovely creator of TPAU), @peskylilcritter, @devilangel657, @demad69 — I’d tag more of you who reblogged, but tumblr isn’t letting me! I think these are the ones y’all mainly saw it from anyway so there’s at least that.

Previous (Ch.1) | Current | Next (Ch.3)

Chapter 2: If the Stoic Bastard saves a baby from you, ya need to reevaluate yourself

Edie's eyes were beginning to well up. Upon noticing this fact, Obi-Wan seemed shocked before his own eyes began to well in response for, seemingly, feeling bad because he saw his own scolding of her as the only thing that could have created the tears. Of course, seeing such a tiny and young version of her Master clearly tearing up made her eyes water even more and... it was escalating. It just quickly became a speedy, endless cycle that needed less than a minute to become a full mess of tears and clinging hugs. Both were overwhelmed for different reasons, and both feeling bad for seemingly making the other upset. It was a hopeless situation that seemed to hold no end to it in sight, truly. That is, that would have been the case before three quiet, yet still echoing clacks! of something that sounded vaguely wooden startled both of them. “Very old, I am.” The familiar voice connected to a familiar figure began to hobble towards them down the hall, “Yet seen two younglings crying for no reason, until now, I have not.” With that surprising amount of speed (when desired) that is still commonly seen even decades later, Grandmaster Yoda of the Jedi Temple was standing before the duo wearing that expression that trademarked expression that always portrayed everything-yet-nothing as he observed. Edie was left blinking yet a sense of relief soon washed over her. Yoda. If anyone could help her, it wouldn't definitely be her Great-Great Grandmaster... even if there was a high chance that she didn't even exist yet, considering the tearful little ball of ginger in her arms. “Master Yoda!” Obi-Wan gasped tearfully, rubbing at his eyes as the green being smaller than the two children finally made it right in front of them. “I... I-I was bad! I made p.... I made Pad-wan Edie c-cry cause I yelled! And... a-an' then I started cryin' and-!” The youngling shushed with a hiccup of surprise as the end of the ever-familiar gimmer stick of the Jedi Order's Grandmaster would lightly poke upon the tip of his little nose. Edie herself recognized the act, for she had been at the literal end of it many times, but it seemed the one she held was still new to experiencing such a thing. “Upset is needed not, Obi-Wan. Sure I am, reason for this padawan's tears, you did not truly create. Yes?” The first of Yoda's words had been spoken to the boy, but the last had been more meant to the brunette girl. “Ye-...Yes! I mean,” Edie reached up a hand to rub at her cheeks, giving a gentle smile to the little boy she held even if it was slightly strained. “You didn't make me cry, Obi-Wan. I was just shocked by something. Okay? You were not 'bad' at all.” The explanation was vague and told nothing, and though intriguing for Yoda it was perfectly placating for one so young. Thus, it was with sniffles on the boy's part, and with gentle wiping of tears from said boy's chubby cheeks on the girl's own part, soon both children stood towering at varying levels over the grandmaster of the Jedi Order. The group of three just stood there. The children, of course, each beginning to squirm in a way that was oddly similar under the searching eyes of the green elder. In response to this, he had merely hummed thoughtfully. “...Obi-Wan, back to Master Ali-Alaan you will go. Your new friend, I will take care of.” Yoda finally declared. Now, just as oddly similar scrunches of noses and slight furrowing of brows had come upon their faces! Neither voiced any disagreement out-loud. Yoda let out a soft, air chuckle before turning and beginning to hobble the way off. They soon reached an intersection in the halls. The Grandmaster sent the little boy one way that would likely lead him to his Creche Clan, and then he turned to smile at the girl still with him before leading off to one of the nearby elevators.

 He was a teenager, and thus he knew the ways of the galaxy. And one thing he knew was an infinite, concrete, immobile truth of space and time was the fact that his Master liked to talk. And talk. And then, when you think he's done talking, he talks even more. By the Force, why does he talk so much? He had never figured that out, though he's been asking that question to himself over-and-over through the past few years. We were supposed to start training almost an hour ago, but he keeps stopping to talk to people! We're going to run out of reservation time in the dojo, the boy shifted from foot to foot, resisting the urge to sigh. Kriff, I'm starving. I almost wouldn't mind missing the training. Ah, the wonders of the hunger caused by puberty. He had yet to hit his growth spurt, but he bet it would be rather soon. He was almost as tall as his chatty, care-free Master. Sometimes, he genuinely wondered if they were finally at eye level with one another that, possibly, he'd stop taking up so much valuable time and keep the promises he made. Promises such as they'd start their dojo training at 10 galactic-standard time, and that they'd actually eat lunch on time after their usual two-hour training sessions. Yet here the man was! Talking to some annoying little youngling who wanted to ask about one of the man's past exploits because he was writing a report about it for some meager little history class. It was annoying, really, how many youngling idolized his teacher. He used to enjoy how popular the man was, but over the years he just found it grating on his nerves. “Master,” He began, the one who had recently reached his 15th birthday straightening his seated posture as attention was turned back to him, “May I head to the dojo to begin my katas while you finish helping Youngling... Billaba?” There had been a slight hesitation on the name, but the way the young girl seemed to light-up told him that he'd managed to remember correctly. “That way we won't be too far behind course for the day.” The tall, tree-like man (which was a fitting analogy, considering said man was connected to the Living Force) smiled at him with a sparkle in his eyes. “Of course, my padawan. Are you sure, however, that you aren't simply wishing to make sure that we manage to get to lunch on time? Especially since I promise to take you to a certain buffet-establishment as a late birthday gift?” The teen would deny that his cheeks felt a bit heated now, eyes squinting from the teasing before in rarely used movement out of decorum, he simply shrugging his shoulders while simultaneously resisting the urge to roll his eyes when the young-one giggled. His teacher chuckled, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder. “Of course you can, padawan. I'll be along momentarily. I promise.” The boy rose from the chair he had begun to feel glued to, nodding his head in acknowledgment, “Alright, Master. I shall see you in an hour then.” He replied, the slightest of smirked twitching his usually stoic face as he dodged a scolding cuff-to-an-ear, bolting his way from the sitting room and giving the slightest wave over his shoulder at the call of  'Cheeky brat!' that followed him.

He began on what should have been a direct path to Training Room A, nodding his head in a brief sign of respect to any Knight or Master he passed, and in the least glanced at the child or two he passed in a show of noticing their existence. It was while nearing his destination that he felt a tickling of... something. He was one with the Unifying Force, though not prone to visions, but he did feel nudges and influences from the world around him on occasion. He mainly felt them in the reckless situations his Master tended to get them in, and listened without hesitation in those instances. In this, however, he paused momentarily, closed his eyes, and focused on listening to what they may be saying. The teen heard no words due to the rarity of the Force ever speaking directly of it's desires, but he definitely felt the figurative string pulling him to a different part of the Jedi Temple. Eyes opening, the boy followed a will that was not necessarily his own.

The Temple was a place of the Light, rarely filled with anything unhappy and warm beyond the anxieties of 'Will I pass my trials?' or 'My thirteenth birthday is soon, what if I'm not picked?' or 'My padawan is going through such a rebellious phase, what if it's a sign of something more?' sorts of things, but otherwise nothing too worrying. So it was understandable that, once he was hit with a wave of anxiety and fear after rounding a corner, that he came to a an abrupt halt in his movements out of pure surprise alone. What in the stars is this? The boy wondered, glancing up at the sign along the wall and see he was heading in the direction of one of the aquatic-life observance rooms. They had many rooms in the Temple, for lessons teaching or for the ways that people difference in how they connected to the Force for meditation. He understandably had no idea why he was feeling such strong and dark emotions. Someone trapped in a horrible vision? An Initiate in a panic-attack who had run off for some solitude to work through it?

The teenager stood there, trying to dissect why the Force would bring him here to just seemingly help somehow through a bad time. In fact, he was moments away from figuratively scoffing at the life around him and returning the way he came. Of course it was at that moment where many things happened simultaneously. Large amounts of fear and anxiety melted into the purest, most unadulterated version of tailor he had ever felt in his 15 years of life so fair. If that alone didn't convince him, then the high-pitched scream that cut off rather abruptly definitely did. And if even that didn't convince him to not turn away, than the pull of the Force filling him with an urgency did whatever work the other two might not have fulfilled. He bolted down the hallway, passing the rooms blindly until getting to the largest one that set up one of the various (yet few) dead-end hallways of the Temple. He opened the door as silently as possible, hand on the hilt of his lightsaber as he quickly found his way down the paths of aquarium tanks. He was taking precaution due to he being unsure of what he may find himself needing confront, but the urgent whispering of the Force in his ears had him moving quickly just the same. He came to a stop, stilling as he heard laughter mixed with the sounds of splashing... and then the sound of gasping coughs—in a higher pitch than the laughter—before it was choked off and the laughter picked back up even louder.

He jumped around the corner, startling at the sight two boys whom were knelt next to the pool and... seemingly holding the head of a struggling, smaller child beneath the surface. He stared momentarily, shocked, but then rage swirled inside of him. “What in Sith-Hells are you doing?!” He startled the two Initiates who turned to stare at him, they're grips still keeping the child pinned beneath the water. The teenager's glare was firm as he took a step forward, and the boys responded instantly. They lifted the tiny child from the water only to lift and toss him deep into the pool, the tiny landing with a hard splash and a head of red-hair popping up with gasping cries of fear before falling back beneath the surface. The teenager made no move to stop the two little monsters as they ran pass him to escape wrath and punishment as he rushed forward, hesitating not a moment before diving into the pool. The Force stilled as a few bubbles popped on the surface of the water; the universe watched. The universe waited. Agonizingly long second later a large splash came as he clear the surface, and the Force moved once more as the teen with long, black clutched the ginger-haired little boy to his chest. The child was coughing, spewing out water through his lips and staring around wildly in his fear. Soon the child looked up at the one who had saved them as they floated in the water, silvery-blue eyes meeting greenish-blue in a mixture of wide-eyed shock over what had just occurred. The breathing of a little chest hitched, eyes of the young holder growing a kind of wet that wasn't created by the observance pond , and he began wailing. This of course made the teenager feel awkward, but old instincts from years ago when he'd had a little sister to care for managed to kick in just slightly. He wrapped his arm more firmly around the boy, using his other to take them back to the edge of the pond while muttering the soft words of comfort he was capable to manage while so far out of practice, “It's alright.... It's all over. Those brats are gone, and you're safe. Look, see? We're almost to the edge, kid. You're fine.” He got to the edge, putting the child on the grass surrounding the pond-area before pulling himself out. His words seemingly hadn't helped at all yet, for the kid was still sobbing, but at least he seemed to have calmed slightly now that he was no longer in the water. He stiffened momentarily as the tiny form scrambled into his lap, but wet wrapped around wet and he found himself hugging an arm around the kid once more. Another hesitation, but slowly he moved his free hand to cup at the back of a red-haired head of soaked hair. “Hey now, none of that. You just got out of the water where you couldn't breathe, there's no use crying and messing up your air even more, you know.” The teenager muttered, and it seemed the child had thankfully calmed enough that such words assisted in startling away the tears rather than encouraging them further. “There we go, see? Now, what's your name? I should probably alert your Creche Master after I get you to the Healing Halls.” The boy asked, loosening his hold so the child could pull back. “I'm... I'm O-” The child started coughing, and he was quickly shifted so he could empty the water still in his lungs onto the grass rather than onto his savior. Said savior may already be wet, but there was a different between tank-water and the same water being thrown up on oneself. It took a long minute or two before the kid had calmed, face flushed from exertion. “Feel better?” The child nodded in response. “Good. Now, what is your name?” “I'm-” “Obi-Wan!” The sound of another voice, feminine, succeeded in startling them both. (The teenager would scold himself later for being so off guard, though it was understandable that seeing someone that was all but a toddler almost get murdered by other children would cause a notable distraction from observing one's surroundings.) The sight that met both boys of two ages was that of a girl who seemed to be a padawan. She was completely unfamiliar to the teen, and only barely familiar to the child. The boy, named Obi-Wan apparently, let out a wail with a fresh-wave of tears. He bolted from the teenagers arms over to the girl who instantly knelt to accommodate the child. “Oh, look at you. You're soaking wet and chilled to the bone. What in the stars happened to you?” The girl was murmuring this soft worries between words of comfort that had been much gentler than his own, and in the back of his mind he was faintly impressed by the fact the girl managed to scoop the child up in an almost cradling hold. With how short the girl looked, he didn't think it be possible. The 15-year old rose to his feet, gaining the attention of the younger padawan (now that he took time to observe her, he assumed she was anywhere from 10 to 12). The girl only seemed to have just noticed his presence, having only had sights for the little boy, and he was feeling another faint tick of being impressed as she bowed with the boy now on her hip. “Thank you for whatever you did to save him from, well, whatever was happening in here. I felt his stress and I got here as soon as I could, but-” The teenager held up a hand to cut off the babbling, offering a small smile he usually saved for when he and his Master were on political missions. He didn't know this girl, had never seen her, yet she wore padawan attire.... even though, he remained neutral for now. “No thanks needed,” He replied, doing his best to embody the mature stance and tone he'd seen many Knights and Masters take when talking. Granted, it was a slightly tough feat to make when one appeared like a drowned rat, but still he pushed on with his words, “The young one didn't deserve what was happening, no one did.” His voice was firm with this, and the girl smiled at him. Odd, she seems so very open. He'd ponder that later, for now he wanted to get as much information as possible on this strange girl who, barely a padawan, seemed to have claimed she had some sort of bond with the Crecheling. “Obi-Wan is his name, yes? That's what you called him? It's nice to know the name of my young rescuee, but may I know yours Padawan....?” He trailed off, leaving it open. “I'm Padawan Edie and, yes, his name is Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan Kenobi.” The girl smiled again, and the teenager found himself further intrigued by such an emotional peer. It almost reminded him of the man who had been raising and teaching him over the past six years. “And again, I can't help but thank you for saving him from whatever happened. So, thank you Padawan....” She paused, looking at him with the same expectant look he had given her moments before. He could respect this mirroring of tactic. The elders influenced the juniors, after all. His smirk turned just the slightest bit more genuine than politely neutral, the teenager gave a half-bow to the one he towered over. “I am Padawan Xanatos du Crion. It is a pleasure to meet you, Padawan Edie and Youngling Obi-Wan, though circumstances could be better.” He once more felt his curiosity peak, eyes tweaking the slightest bit into a squint at the wave of surprise he felt from the girl. Really now, what was so shocking about hearing his name?

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Tsukigakirei 6 | Kado 6 | Boku no Hero Academia 20 | Royal Tutor 7 | Grimoire of Zero 6

Apparently there weren’t 2, but 3 .5 episodes (i.e. series recaps) this week (although after Tsukigakirei and Kado, I haven’t found the 3rd series that was affected by such a thing)...with Boku no Hero Academia’s Hero Notebook, that makes a few recaps too many in one season. Still, it does (sadly) mean a break from Tsukigakirei and Kado for one week in regards to simulcast commentary, and it’ll be noted in the next commentary post’s title too (as I’ve done previously for Erased).

Tsukigakirei 6

Wait, there’s a 6.5? I don’t know about you, but a lot of times the .5 ep is a recap. With Tsukigakirei’s current track record of Very Bad CGI Background Characters, I’m not sure I need a .5 ep.

Kinako.

Aren’t there firearm laws in Japan? I’ve heard it’s the safest place in the world…

The piano here (I turned on the volume around here) is quite nice.

The mascot is part of Akane’s background. I guess I should’ve known.

Leaving out the fact Chinatsu likes Kotaro is going to damage you, Akane. That’s how it always goes in these sorts of shows…

I didn’t think Chinatsu would be so understanding…

I didn’t notice Hira had freckles. Or maybe someone added them by accident?

I wouldn’t recommend ditching friends who like the same guy as you (just as a pointer from someone who cuts off relationships a lot).

“Boxes”? Isn’t there a Box app out there or something?...There is indeed a Box app, but it’s for business and FTP. Boxes is then a parody of Dropbox.

I also wouldn’t recommend being sorry for falling for someone. If your feelings are genuine, then that’s all that matters.

Apparently there’s a LINE convo in the ED that changes every ep. I’ve never noticed it because I skip the ED of this show most times. This convo seems to be about finishing exams, at least for the top half or so, and it seems to be a convo with “Kanojo-san”, which could mean “Girlfriend” or just “Her/She” (more than likely the former).

Huh? Never seen this before, this “Sakura’s Fantasies”. It seems to be an omake, appended to the show itself. However, it’s kinda boring…Sure, there are good things about this show, but the show hasn’t actually tried its hand at humour until now (not to my knowledge) and this shows exactly why.

I keep forgetting who Roman is, so…Roman is pink-haired dude? Okay then.

Roman is definitely referring to a wedding dress, I know, but she’s already wearing a dress while looking at the mag, so the wording makes the joke fall flat for me.

Kado 6

Uh-oh. There’s a .5 episode on this show, as well…(it means we get more Kado, sure, but it may be a cost-cutting measure).

I found a guide on the Anisotoron language used for the ep titles while looking for spoilers (because I heard Shindo was forcefully promoted to a higher state of existence without zaShunina telling him…but since that’s an event that occurs in this ep, that doesn’t require a spoiler tag).

Well, it makes sense that those who are more “go with the flow”, like Shindo, would be able to…no, that’s not the right words for it. I think the key component of making a proper Wam is empathy.

Get your hands back on, Shunina. By the way, why’d you take Shindo’s Wam?

Note for later: Kado movement on Aug. 6th 2017. Kado is set in our current year…(I wonder what’ll happen if the anisotropic do arrive in our universe in the future? Would they laugh at zaShunina?)

Amplitude…after all of Kado’s physics, here’s one thing I happen to know about…if you don’t know about amplitude, check the explanation here). What does Kado have to do with waves…?

…Maybe it’s the amplitude of the ground…? That would explain why Kado can conform to a lake’s surface.

Notice there’s a red marking on the map for where Kado is and will be. Not sure if the demo cube is magentised…it’s definitely not velcro though.

Lookit Asano, sleeping on the fold out chairs…LOL.

There’s a box near the mother (on the counter) that says “Delicious Eggplants”.

For some reason, they chose to make the “visiting mother” scene in 2D, and…you know what I’m going to say, right? Knowing me and my gripes with CG? Yeah, you guessed it – it looks a lot better than if it were CG. It would’ve been costly to render the sunglasses and face mask too, I bet, and it seems to give the scene some gravitas due to the sudden contrast.

Octopus tentacles are meant to be snacks, in case you didn’t figure that out from the size of the serving.

…er, CGI Shindo drinking beer completely causes the gravitas to be lost. Welp, it was beautiful while it was happening.

I wonder what it means to show the origami turtles as a trio…it’s gt to be foreshadowing of some sort. Either it’s saying Shindo’s dad is dead or Shunina’s going to reveal how he breeds…well, those are my thoughts, but I heavily lean towards the latter as being true. (By the way, I always thought Shindo was a guy with siblings. Did anyone else think the same thing?)

I know your feels about having to get up early, Hanamori, but why were you running like you were trying to get away from Godzilla?

BVLCARI? Well, Asano’s watch seems to be roughly of that brand (as in, I may have gotten a letter or two wrong).

They’re going to drag Kado by the corner? I’d never think of that, but now that they’ve revealed this, Shindo made it (figuring out how to move Kado with least ground contact) seem a little too easy.

Kado spinning, with all those clouds around it, took my breath away…

Visually speaking, it’s interesting they showed kids on cube-like structures in a park. If I were an anime scholar, I’d want to analyse things like that. Unfortunately, there is no such title as “anime scholar”…

Geometrically speaking, it’s interesting they put Kado, a cube, next to a Ferris wheel, a circle. It’s almost like minimalist art.

*lowkey tries to stifle laughter* That’s not a brain! It’s an egg, or a pill or a lozenge, with brain-like designs in it!...Er-hem. Well, I knew this from the spoilers, but basically, what they implied with the “brain” was “Shindo hasn’t had to sleep since he got anisotropised (or whatever you call it)”.

Boku no Hero Academia 20

“Nabooh” is apparently a Star Wars reference. I hadn’t caught on to that sort of thing until my second watch through of the first season, where Deku cleans up Tatooin Beach and I thought, “That name is a little weird for an anime”.

Brainwashing. I’ve tried that sort of thing in stories before (it was in Conquest Dreams before it got deleted), but seeing the pros and cons of powers is something only the user can really see.

The static was a nice idea, visually speaking.

Ojiro, that’s not selfish at all…

Deku’s looking scary right now. Be careful not to become a villain, or else you’ll fall into the Nietzsche trap*! * - Nietzche once said, “He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”

The judo throw seems to be a favourite of Deku’s, eh? We saw it in his fight with Bakugo in s1.

I think I get Shinso, actually. The power of stereotypes is a harsh mistress.

I see…Shinso was pointing out Midoriya’s gullibility, in a way.

If Shouto wants to win over his dad, he should face off against another ice user. That’s how these things work, y’know. I should know because I tend to write these sorts of things (see White Parasite for one).

There’s a person in a tiger onesie…well, their onesie kinda looks like a tiger.

Royal Tutor 7

Make sure to keep your torte properly, Leo, or else…ew…

Aw, Bruni. Sad though it is, I know exactly how you feel. I used to be good at a lot of subjects, and in the advanced classes for them, but now I’m average, potentially even struggling in things I thought I was good at.

I have fond memories of a certain show where they’d have home improvement stuff that I’d watch on Friday nights with my dad. It’s still going as we speak, but it’s a shell of what it used to be in my opinion. Why do I bring up this show? It’s because this flashback reminds me of that nostalgia.

Why does Viktor want to have a “backup” successor then, if Eins is so good?(!)

I could see that “I will not have you as my apprentice anymore” line coming, although the line straight after it roped me out of dropping the show.

Dat Bruno sleeping at his desk. That would be me, if I were capable of sleeping at my desk.

Yeah, silver-haired man. In the words of the Who, “Who are you?”

*does double take* Smirdy-what???

(when Dmitri’s drinking his wine) Why do I have the feeling something’s about to go very wrong?...(when Bruno is asked to go away from Granzreich) Yep, must be that dastardly Count…

So Mr Fancy Hat (Heine version) is Eins’ high steward??? You pulled me right back into watching for at least the third or fifth time.

Ooh-wee, Mr Fancy Hat. That’s some soft power, carrot Machiavellianism you’ve got going on there.

Wuh? An old man making a Sailor Moon gesture is funny, but it does make me question exactly how drunk he is. It also makes me question stereotypes again (see Boku no Hero Academia above for the first time).

Ah, Bruni. I don’t just understand you, I grok you (as much as I’d hate to admit it). Back when I was writing Ro.Te.O, the demon of envy (Skyrua/Astaroth) was the easiest to write…

Smirdy-man, you do know what “sophistry” is, right? For reference, here’s Google-sensei to the rescue.

Borscht? I heard of it once, through Cooking Mama…(LOL. Shows how much I suck at recognising cuisine.)

For one second, I thought Heine was a mini ninja, not a mini teacher.

*ROFLs* They’re actually using the live-action version of the ED??? That’s a surprise I never saw coming! (Note: Prior to this ep, I saw the teaser version of this ED on ANN.)

Grimoire of Zero 6

“Grimoire of Zero” is shortened from “Starting the Magic Grimoire From Zero”…or something along those lines…

Thirteen’s name is actually a title, “The Thirteenth”.

How does being an animal correlate with “Because I’m eating, I won’t die?”…?

The thing about the clash of ideologies is that both sides can be as correct as each other…

I have the feeling the final opponent Albus and Mercenary will have to face (I think they’ll regroup) is not necessarily Thirteen, but Zero herself…*shivers*

Ah, the Machiavellianism strikes again! (See Royal Tutor above for the first time.)

A woman (Taichi You) voices Albus, and Takehito Koyasu voices Thirteen…hmph. What a cast.