#which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf but still

[snowstories]

Funniest thing about Skyward Sword Impa is that we never even once see her win a fight. Like she's framed as such a badass and talks so much shit but she keeps getting her ass kicked by Ghirahim. I've fought Ghirahim. He's bad. Impa why do you keep losing to a guy whose main attack is strutting menacingly.

[memzyyy]

this caused me a mental breakdown. i got real lazy at the end so deal w it.

say anything and my foot will be going into your ribcage (not clickbait) (real)

CONTENT: voyeurism (? roommates are present but arent written for) Exhibitionism, rough (?) hate sex ig?? praise n allat i cba to write anymore😭 Heathers reference :3 if u find it ill snog you 💋

NSFW DOWN BELOW

he is your enemy, and unfortunately you’ve been stuck with him and a few other men in a dorm for the rest of the year.

He’s a shameless man and will walk naked around the dorm and his only excuse is, “well its my space.” Which is an ass excuse in your opinion since he shares the so called “his space.” and plus it lowkey gets on your nerves since you cannot have friends or anyone over because hes just straight up butt booty naked around the dorm.

But at least its not a sight for sore eyes as his body is chisled like a greek God, why is he chisled like a sack of hot stuff you ask? well he works out and is a Quaterback and is the smartest guy on the football team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

But besides all of that, you had been given a box of chocolates, they were quite thin but there was a lot of them so you really didnt mind. Your roommates were in their rooms, well, other than him, mans was casually in his birthday suit as usual, so when you walked into your dorm with a box of chocolates his fatass asked what you had, and of course you replied with “some chocolates.” and of course his big backed self asked for some so you sat down on the

sofa and gave him one, eating some yourself before retreating to your room.

20-30 minutes later you leave your room, and Kai and your other roommates there,

him still being naked, but with a rock hard cock asking what the fuck you just gave him.

You read the label on the chocolates, **aphrodisiac chocolates** Oh, cheers for that, making it fuckin small writing in the corner, fuck you aphrodisiac company hope you stub your toe.

Anyway you’re stood there, your pussy glistening with arousal, some making it down your thighs. you were **DRIPPIN.** You told him what is was and he just responded with; “Great. awesome even, now im stuck here with a hard cock.” okay? you think, what did he want you to do? your in the same situation-

you were pinned under him, his hard dick fucking into you, his cock pistoning all up into your sweetspots, dragging his fat cock up and down your walls and you were loud, the ravenous nature of your coupling made it so you couldn’t do anything but take it, poor baby :( (CONSENTUALLY)

he gunts and groans as he pounds into you relentlessly, sweat dripping from his muscular torso onto your skin. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he growls, “Fuck, you're tight..."

His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise as he slams into you again and again, the sofa creaking beneath you both. The room fills with the lewd sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your cries of pleasure.

"Look at that," he taunts between thrusts "my angel is taking my cock like a pro."

his words send a shiver through you, his dirty talk only adding to your arousal.

“Shut the fuck up.” you snapped, but you couldnt help but enjoy the feeling of his cock pistoning into you laughs darkly, the sound sending vibrations through your body as he continues to rut into you. "What's wrong, angel? Can't handle a little dirty talk while I'm wrecking your cunt?"

He pulls back slightly, just enough to slide a hand between your bodies and rub your clit in firm circles.

"Now, are you going to cum on my cock like a good girl, or do I need to work you harder?" He punctuates his question with another deep, powerful thrust, his pelvis grinding against your clit as he does so.

he pulls back so only his tip remains in you, but with a particularly forceful slam of his hips,he buries himself to the hilt inside you. He holds still for a moment, letting you feel every inch of his throbbing length stretching your walls.

"Feel that, angel? This is all yours..." He punctuates his words with a series of short, sharp thrusts, his cockhead rubbing insistently against your sweet spots, making the coil in your tummy get tighter.

a smirk playing on his lips as he continues to fuck into you. “Look at you, getting all sloppy and desperate for my cock." he hits that one very special spot in you that makes your eyes roll back into your head and makes you cum on his cock, he pulls out with a pop before sitting up and leaning against the sofa, panting, congratulations, you had solved the problem.

[blood-feathers]

It seems your entire team is an alternate version of their more well known (at least in this dimension) counterparts

I'll give a slight rundown, referring to each class as their class names. All names given are the ones that are released to the public, some characters may have inaccurate, incomplete, or missing names, you may refer to this as a list when someone asks you about these classes, just for a reference, to prevent confusion. I know it's quite a lot. So you might want to sit down. There are 9 of these people after all

Scout (jeremy) is a loud mouthed, boisterous, immature new Yorker with an addiction to a radioactive soda called 'bonk' fun fact, he's the biological son of his team's spy, juicy gossip, ooh.

Demoman (tavish degroot) is a drunken one eyed Scott who usually is seen stumbling around constantly drunk (still good at his job while entirely plastered, somehow?)

Heavy (mikhail) is a stoic Russian man with an obsession over a spesific gun he named 'natasha' he is the biggest class, a truly massive man.

Medic (ive told you about him so I'll skip him)

Sniper a quiet and reserved man, he rarely goes out of his sniper nest if at all, and keeps to himself. He lives in a van. His name is "mundee mundee" and he throws jars of piss at people. Yes full mason jars. His kidneys are fucked up.

Spy (no name given or revealed) he is a Frenchman, and a snooty one at that, he is slick and quick like an eel. Often complains about people getting his suit dirty, even getting blood on it

Engineer (Dell conagher) don't let his accent fool you, this Texan has 11 degrees. He likes to solve simple problems, usually problems that would be much easier to solve if you had a gun with you. He's all for making life easier, and if that involves making deadly machinery, he'll do it. That being said, even if he is quite murderous, he is the most put together person on the team (which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf) he is the person you would want to hold your drink at the bar, all around good guy, unless he's payed to or wants to kill you. Guess which character is my favorite, you get one guess, haha.

Pyro (no name given) this person is obsessed with unicorns. Bubbles, and rainbows, his goggles force him to see a world of cotton candy, pink, and pastels, it's unclear if he knows the absolute horror he's causing with his flamethrower as it appears to be harmless through his goggles. We know nothing about him, his mask muffles his voice, hides his face, and protects him from smoke inhalation. We don't know his name, gender, age (sorta), nationality or even what his face looks like. All we know is he has a flamethrower and will use it.

Soldier (Jane doe) to put it simply. He's fucking insane. A self proclaimed soldier of some war, he was regarded as too mentally unstable to be qualified for actual war combat. So his employer s, mannco, did the most rational thing and gave him a rocket launcher and told him to blow people up. While less aggressive than the soldier you know, he is very prone to screaming war crys as he beats people to death with a shovel if not exploding them with the preciously mentioned rocket launcher

That should be all, ciao.

Now we're talking! This, fellas, is exactly what I was asking for. Gold star to you, anonymous guy. Alright, you're all officially out of yapping debt. Ask as you please.

(australian possum countdown -- 2 asks remain)

[a-little-revolution]

sorry, i just sent that ask, but to clarify! tall-men, elves, half-foots, “dwarves”, gnomes, and ogres are all explicitly stated to be human. tall-men, half-foots, and ogres (the tallest race) are all short-lived, while elves, dwarves, and gnomes are long-lived. to me, this kind of smattering where one height is not predisposed to live longer helps from singling out the shorter races, but your opinion is ultimately the authority. i am interested in making races of various builds and features in my own fantasy settings, and want to do so in a way that avoids making real life little people uncomfortable. thanks so much again, and apologize if i’m giving too much info lol!

Hello again! It's not too much info at all!

Yes, it is interesting that they've made the distinction when it comes to lifespan, especially since in the real world dwarfism can cause a lot of medical issues that could impede such things.

The notion that the shorter races live longer could be linked to the theme of wisdom, good fortune, and longevity- which exist in the folklore of a lot of the shorter mysticsl beings, as well as in the belief systems surrounding little people in the time of court dwarfs. Real little people were believed to hold wisdom that average folks did not, and that belief added to their value when it came to their slavery.

- That all may not have been the creator's intention to link to, but I find it interesting lol

I believe the best way to include little people in fantasy is to include them amongst All the various races of beings. Treat dwarfism it like the disability it is, and intigrate instead of segregate. Obviously like can still attract like, such as with any marginalized group - but to seperate them entirely from the human community is not a good framework.

[pacdevil]

okay more headcannon stuff lets go<2

so, i keep hearing ppl compare the super/hyper states to stars and i wanted to expand on this a little for silver and shadow, specifically with star life cycles

explainations under the read more because i RANTED lmao<2

---

so for shadow, they take the path of an average star: their regular state being in the stellar nebula. 

their chaos control and powers fluctuate in colour depending on how they use it so it's fitting to use this spiral of unorganized gases and energy to fit that state they're in.

their super form being an average star: bright, mild yellow and powerful. but their hyper form is where it gets interesting, the red giant state. their black quills turn a deep, hot red, and their red highlights start to shine a brighter, more vivid yellow/orange. the colours seeming to shift and move like molten lava. they faintly glow red, and they grow in size, double their normal size. their alien traits becoming more prominent than their hedgehog traits.

they are very unstable in this form, and are susceptible to becoming overtaken by their chaos energy in their body. a blue hue and mist will begin to emanate from their form and swirl around them, slowly encapsulating them if they don't control their chaos energy, the planetary nebula effect showing they're near the point of no return.

and when they push themself too far, that mist will consume them, forming a ball that slowly shrinks in size: their white dwarf state. then it forms into a white outline of his regular form. no features are visible in this form, just the outline of their body. exept for their gold cuffs and their pupil-less yellow screla. they've reached a state which is their strongest, but they're not in control of their body anymore, and act on instinct to protect themself for a brief moment of time. in which, when they use up the last bit of their power, they will fade to nothing.

---

silver's a bit different, since he's a cyborg to me<2, but his state works similarly to shadows.

his normal state starts out one step ahead of shadows: the massive star state. this is his powers he has at his disposal, which he has a bit more control over and can use it for more things other than fighting and movement.

when he goes super is when a little surprise happens: the red supergiant state :). this already big boy (to me. i see him as the tallest and biggest of the main three hogs) quickly grows into a massive force of hyperfocused chaos power, and his body becomes triple his normal size. his quills are still a greyish-yellow, though he does glow a faint, bright red. his powers turn the same red as well, along with his glowing parts in his cyborg legs, arms and eyes.

now his hyperform is where things get fun: the supernova state. his body compresses down back into his normal size, but all that chaos energy that he was using in his super form also gets condensed into a more localized point, sparking this huge explosion of bright yellow energy. he SHINES in this form, blinding someone if they're not careful. if you get close enough to him, you can see the very faintest of outlines for his body, all in bright and pale yellows: if ur not blind by then.

he also moves in a sort of slow-fast way: where it looks like he's walking in this slow, looping and sorta glitchy but not erratic kind of way; how fast he's ACTUALLY moving compared to how fast he LOOKS he's moving don't correlate at all. he's moving way faster than it seems.

silver is also susceptible to reaching the point of no return: the black hole state. a small black dot will appear in the middle of his shining body, slowly consuming him the more he pushes himself and burns up his chaos energy. he can survive if the black, growing dot appears, he just needs to exert all of his chaos energy from his body, and I mean ALL of it, which takes a fair amount of time to do. and that growing black dot spreads fast.

and when the black dot consumes his form whole: he collapes into himself. leaving a faint pitch black form in the shape of his body, with a bright whiteish blue outline around it... which is all the light and gas and everything being sucked into the silver-shaped black hole. he just exists as this now, no consciousness or thoughts left in his mind. just a literal black hole. 

[dollythesheepp]

Veronica- Chapter 7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44050953/chapters/115131082#workskin

September 1st, 1989. Dear Diary...

I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone. But here we are... first day of senior year! I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself ...what happened?

We used to be so tiny and happy, then we got bigger and everything went to shit. But we changed once, so I still pray that maybe we can change again. And if we don't, college is right around the corner, and I'll finally be able to leave this Thunderdome behind me, and say hello to Harvard, Duke, or Brown.

I just hope I'll survive until June...

Those were the first paragraphs written in Veronica's diary. She was seventeen at the time, fourteen years ago, and Betty couldn't help but be reminded of her younger self in those scribbly blue lines, so naive and full of hope, not yet tainted by the hardships of life.

Below the last sentence were several other ones, all from that same day.

---

Dear Diary...

The Heathers just passed by me, floating above the rest of the student body like they're apex predators at the top of the food chain.

They're assholes, everyone knows that but still, all of Westerburg wants to be them, or to be with them.

Heather McNamara is loaded, her dad sells engagement rings.

Heather Duke doesn't have a discernable personality but the implants paid with her mother's cash do the job just fine.

And Heather Chandler...the almighty. She is a mythic bitch.

They're solid Teflon, never bothered, never harassed. I would give anything to be like that...

--

Dear Diary...

Help me fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze.

I've been here for two hours and I've already been shoved, yelled at, got my lunch tray smacked down by Ram Whose Entire Personality is Being The Team's Linebacker Sweeney, and almost got my ass kicked by Kurt Kelly, the smartest guy on the football field ...which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf...

Now I'm hiding in the bathroom to avoid dealing with this bullshit.

---

Dear Diary...

Sometimes, if you hope, dream, and pray enough, you get your way in the end.

Today ended up being a beautiful freaking day.

As the eventful day of September 1st ended with that last sentence, Betty closed the notebook, feeling tired and with her head full from going through the piles of old manuscripts all day, her tired vision starting to blur the words in front of her.

Getting inside Veronica's thoughts through her diary made Betty feel slightly better about the whole situation. It made it easier to stop seeing Veronica as this hallowed, unreachable person; Betty got the chance to see the actual her, read about her feelings and her insight of the world, and for the first time, she didn't have to rely on anyone's opinion to learn that, only Veronica's- even thought Betty was reading from the point of view of seventeen year old Veronica, still full of hormones and teenage anguish.

As Betty got up from the couch to return the diary to its box, she felt her Nokia cellphone vibrating in her pocket, she flipped it open, seeing it was her landlord.

"Hello, Ms. Finn?" said the forty something year old on the other line, his slight southern accent echoing in her ears.

"Yeah?"

"The problem with the plumbing I told you about," he began, getting straight to the point, no frills. "Turns out it's worse than we thought. I'm afraid it will take a little while to get the place ready for you to move in."

"Hm, how long is a little while, exactly?" Betty asked, already feeling the headache coming.

"A couple more weeks, give or take."

"A couple more?" she echoed, incredulous. "I'm already out of my old apartment, what am I supposed to do until then?"

"I'm really sorry, I know this wasn't excepted..." he continued.

"It's ok," Betty mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'll...I'll figure something out. Thanks."

She turned the cell phone off, plopping on the couch. Betty was the type of person who liked to have everything planned out, she felt comforted begging a week knowing exactly how it would end; setbacks like those were a nightmare for her. She had already talked it over with JD about staying until Tuesday, then she would go to a hotel and wait for the place to get ready, but there's no way could afford two weeks at a hotel, even a cheap one.

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, stressed out. She glanced at her watch, seeing how late it was, and got up from the couch to go to sleep. She closed Veronica's diary, with a bookmark to indicate what page she had stopped at, knowing for certain she would keep reading it the next day.

***

Sunday morning came along with its usual feeling of laziness, one that only grew heavier with the rain falling in heavy droplets, making the tree leaves dance and the house smell like wet grass.

Betty woke up a little later than the day before, to which she blamed it on the chilly weather and not on the fact that she had stayed up until late snooping through Veronica's diary.

When she left her room, Betty was introduced to the other nurse, Kate, who was older than Martha, probably in her late fifties, and a lot more serious too.

To Betty's dismay, Kate didn't leave delicious coffee for her, like Martha did. But JD came to her rescue, offering to make her coffee and toast. Time flew by as they chatted amicably, until JD glanced at his watch, cursing under his breath.

"I can't believe it's already 10 a.m," he said, he appeared upset about having to cut the conversation short, and Betty did too. JD was easy to talk to, he was funny and clever, as well as a good listener. "I have to drop by the company to handle some issues, if you need anything you can ask Kate."

Betty nodded and waved him goodbye. After he left, an eerie silence took over the house. Kate was upstairs with Veronica, who according to JD was watching television, leaving Betty alone with nothing but the rain to keep her company. Since staying outside and enjoying the view was out of question, Betty settled for studying her notes in the living room instead, bringing the heap of papers and another cup of coffee along with her.

She stayed on the couch for hours, forgetting about her plans to order lunch, completely immersed in what she was doing, until the doorbell rang. Betty looked around, unsure of what to do. She waited to see if Kate would appear in the living room, but that didn't happen, maybe she didn't hear or simply ignored it, since answering the door was not at all part of her job description.

The bell rang a couple more times, the person outside getting impatient. Betty got up from the couch to open it, feeling a bit weird, like she was overstepping a boundary somehow.

You're well past that...a little voice in her head snickered.

Betty unlocked the wooden door to reveal a petite woman standing on the other side. She had her back facing Betty, looking at the front lawn instead, she probably got distracted from waiting for the door to open, so at first, all Betty saw was a mop of curly blonde hair. The woman turned around quickly once she realized the door was open, and she looked at Betty with a puzzled expression on her face.

"You're not Martha," she blinked her wide, doe eyes. At that moment, Betty recognized her as one of the girls from the picture.

"N-no, sorry. I'm Betty, the hm...the ghostwriter," Betty said, unsure of how to introduce herself.

"Hm, alright..." the girl said, eyeing Betty up and down. "I'm Heather, by the way. Is Veronica up for a visit?"

[bijoumikhawal]

(places my hand over yours) I'm aware it was progressive in some ways for the 60s. I do not live in the 60s. I do not care about the miniskirts. I did not mention the miniskirts. I do not care that it was progressive for the 60s in the context of this post because it's attempts made a mockery of victims of sexual assault (and very frequently male victims of sexual violence by women, which I have experienced).

The fact that it's choice to show women making the first move as progress- if that was the intention- ends up coming off as women repeatedly enacting sexual violence on men speaks to the latent and normalized rape culture of the 1960s and unfortunately its not that different from OUR rape culture of the 21st century. People still can't comprehend that a woman can be a predator. I don't consider the portrayal of violent women and progressive in TOS because 1) as I tried to make it clear, TOS does not take them seriously as perpetrators of violence and 2) I don't think depicting female rapists and assaulters and harassers is a win for feminism on its own? That's the kind of violence I am discussing- sexually motivated violence, and how it happens so much and is downplayed so frequently.

There are allegations that point to Roddenberry likely having assaulted a crew member (Grace Lee Whitney, who did not name whoever did it, but people have suspected Roddenberry basically ever since she wrote about it due to the details she did include about her assaulter and other things she stated about Roddenberry). He also, while very sex positive in a particular way, had... what I would call ambivalent feelings towards women. This is a context that I feel is just as relevant to my feelings on how sexual violence and women are portrayed. That's without getting into how the way people talk about him makes me feel he had a fetishistic view of women of color, which certainly was transgressive to be even slightly open about, but was not "progressive". Even if he wasn't "the Executive", someone on the show team did that to Whitney, and that colors how I regard the show's depiction of sexual violence. It is not the blindness of a fish in water the way many people are in regard to rape culture. At least one person there knowingly enacted that violence.

I also don't. Particularly care to see the "standards of the time" being invoked because I'm a mixed race transfag. I'm aware things were bad. Things still are bad. I don't give out awards for being the tallest dwarf when it comes to politics. I'm aware of the context. I know Trek was made during second wave feminism. I still happily criticize that wave of feminists. I criticize people centuries dead over politics.

something I am noticing in my TOS rewatch is definitely the misogyny and how that feeds into depictions of sexuality. Not just in the "man pushing himself onto a woman that doesn't want him" way (though thanks, enemy within). Women are often depicted as attracted to Kirk in a way that ultimately causes them to either harm him or force themselves on him in some way. It is heterosexist in that it paints a picture of womanhood as on some level being about desiring men (especially for Miri and Andrea the android- the former is aging and 'becoming a woman' and the latter is a imperfect illogical machine because of her growing desire), but it also demeans women by implying they get easily distracted by sexual appetites.

It's also misogynistic because even though these episodes frankly, show blatant sexual violence on men done by women in forced kissing and hypnosis to trick someone into thinking you've had sex, the women themselves are never quite treated as a serious threat. There is either a more threatening man they are working for or who co-opts their efforts, or in the case of Miri (who doesn't go so far as assault) they enlist someone else to do violence. Even when committing a serious violation of another person, these female characters are not taken seriously. And by showing these acts as unserious it is borrowing a bit of benevolent misogyny- I'm mostly thinking of Dr. Helen Noel- by acting like her misconduct is harmless. After all, a woman is a nice sweet thing that doesn't really want to hurt people. So she may as well be incapable of it. It very much reminds me of how irritating it is when I hear someone say something like "a woman could never murder a child this way", or when people imply motherhood is pure and ignore the fact of abusive motherhood, and that for many, your mother is your first teacher of internalized sexism. In denying that a woman can commit violence or underplaying its severity compared to the same acts done by men, there is a form of dehumanization occurring.

[mask131]

Cold winter: Troll

TROLL

Category: Scandinavian folklore

The troll is without a doubt the most famous Scandinavian creature to have ever existed – and yet… it is actually extremely hard to describe what a troll exactly is. Not just because people outside of Scandinavia have reused the word “troll” to designate all sorts of things very different from the original Norse troll – but also because Scandinavia itself had very different types of trolls. After all Scandinavia is a lot of different countries and cultures, so of course each one would perceive the troll differently… So let’s try to just do a simple and easy summary.

Trolls usually live in wild and isolated areas of nature, far away from human beings: mountains, forests, caves, the sea… They are rarely helpful or friendly towards humans, in fact most of the time they are quite dangerous to encounter (as many tales report the trolls eat human beings) – and a troll usually does not live alone. A typical troll lives either alone or in a small family unit, which is usually a mother/daughter or father/son duo. Trolls are very strong, much stronger than humans, and they live very long life, longer than those of any mortal beings – but they are also renowned for being quite slow to act and also quite dim-witted. Another recurring trait of trolls is that they usually only appear/are active at night, because they avoid the sunlight which will turn them to stone (quite a number of Scandinavian landmarks are said to have been created by the body of trolls exposed to sunlight). Sometimes they are hideous and grotesque, other times they can hardly be distinguished from humans, some are giant-like beings, other small like folkloric dwarfs, but a recurring theme with trolls is that they are not Christians. Given Scandinavia was very heavily Christianized and big on religion questions, this is important. Trolls fear church-bells, which is why areas with churches are said to not have any trolls living nearby – but while some trolls flee upon hearing the bells, others will try to fight back by destroying the church with throws of boulders and stones. Trolls are also known to be terrified of thunder and lightning. Beyond sunlight and lightning, there is also a third deadly weakness and great fear of the trolls: fire.

Apparently in modern days there are two main “traditions” when it comes to troll. One is the Norwegian tradition: the troll will be a very tall and large being, quite ugly and living a solitary life. The Norwegian troll acts as traditional giants, ogres and demons do in folktales. The other would be the Swedish and Danish traditions, where the trolls are much more humanoid in appearances and more strongly connected to nature: they are not openly evil or hostile, living at peace with humans, but they are still dangerous tricksters. This second tradition notably insists on a specific type of folktales which makes the trolls closer to the fair folk of the British Isles: kidnapping tales. The Swedish/Danish troll will frequently kidnap human women or human children for various kinds of reasons, sometimes replacing the latter with changeling children.

Now… This was all just generalization and sum-up. If you want some more specific details, here is an additional list of info I could find (I still keep general and surface-level, because again my Seasonal Theme series are supposed to act as introductions and presentations, not in-depths analysis).

# Norwegian trolls are renowned for being hairy giants with large noses, large ears and a tail. They live in forests and mountains, they regularly eat human beings – except for human maidens, who they sometimes keep as slaves. Sometimes they have additional bizarre physical traits, such as having multiple heads or a moss-covered skin, and their size ranges from ��tall human” size to “twice as tall as the tallest tree”. Given their size and strength makes them very hard to kill, heroes usually have to trick them into their own doom – because thankfully Norwegian trolls are stupid and gullible beings. Some legends claim the trolls do not care about the sunlight, others claim that trolls turn to stone under sunlight, and others yet claim that the trolls EXPLODE when hit by sun rays.

# Icelandic trolls are quite similar to the Norwegian trolls, being ogre-like beings ranging from twice as tall as a human to as big as a mountain, with the main differences being that they live exclusively in mountains and turn to stone when hit by sunlight. Some legends also claim that they turn to stone upon hearing church bells – and their favorite food is human children.

# Sometimes Norwegian legends and tales will establish a clear division of trolls into subcategories. The “Rise” or regular “troll”, the traditional, basic troll, is a large and evil human-like being living in the mountains. Often suffering from various deformities (such as the “multiple head” cases signaled above), trolls also have parts of the landscape growing on them – I talked about the moss before, but sometimes trolls will have entire trees growing on them. They are also the most vulnerable to sunlight. The skogstroll, or “forest troll” however is a forest-dweller who is smaller that the regular troll but still larger than a human – they typically act as ogres in fairytales. And then comes the “havtroll”, the “sea troll”, which lives in a sea, and thus has a body covered in seaweed instead of moss, and whose face is usually similar to the one of a fish.

# Trolls were said to be very rich, owning a lot of mineral wealth such as gems and rare metals, to the point that “as rich as a troll” is a common expression.

# And of course we have to mention the very famous story of the “Three Billy Goat Gruffs”, which HEAVILY popularized the concept that trolls live under bridges.

- - - - - - -

There is another reason why the troll is prone to such variations and evolutions – beyond the simple cultural differences of Scandinavian countries. You see… it relies in the origins of the troll. Back in Old Norse folklore, back in Norse mythology… “troll” basically meant everything and anything.

“Troll” was one of the four different names given to the jötnar, and so a troll was originally a jötunn… But not just that. “Troll” was also a term used for many other things. Some ghosts were called “trolls”. Werewolves and wolf shape-shifters were called “trolls”. Christian demons were called “trolls”. Evil spirits were called “trolls”… Basically any kind of hostile or malevolent supernatural entity could be a “troll”. So “troll” was kind of an Old Norse word for “monster”. BUT IT WASN’T JUST THAT! Witches and sorcerers living in the wild were called “troll-women” and “troll-men”. When something was enchanted or magical, it was said to be “troll”, as “to enchant” something or someone could be said as “to turn X into a troll”. And magical animals were also called “troll”. So… “troll” didn’t just mean hostile monsters ; it also denoted any kind of thing or being that was magical. As a result many have compared the word “troll” to the English words “fairy” or “fey”, which were used as adjectives and qualificatives to designate many supernatural entities, magical animals and enchanted objects. BUT THERE’S MORE! Terrifying, brutal, destructive warriors were called “trolls”. When a man was noted to be very large, or to be very ugly, or to be very strong, he was called “troll”. And when the Scandinavians discovered black people… they called them “trolls” too. Basically whenever a human was seen as “out of the ordinary”, but usually in a not very good way, he was also seen as a troll, which was basically a form of negative exaggeration of things – and this paints to us the picture of the large, ugly brute we will see later appear in folklore.

But while I described above the various incarnations of the “trolls” in the Scandinavian folklore(s), there are many other folkloric species and beings that I did not describe – but that are considered to be related to the trolls, sometimes even said to be sub-species of trolls, or just trolls by other names (further establishing a parallel between the Scandinavian “troll” and the British “fairy/fair folk” as umbrella terms for supernatural folkloric beings). I could have talk of the hulder, huldra or hulderfolk, of the nisse and the tomte, of the skogsra or the nokk, or even of the trow…

[natsspammityspamspamham]

I'm actually writing this post specifically for @deepwoodenheart because they followed my main and were not a porn blog. Thanks! They've recently expressed an interest in Yuichiro Umehara (a voice actor), and @msyuksanh is his number one fan who is the one who actually introduced me to this specific voice actor. Since I watch a ton of anime (an unhealthy amount), I will be running through some of the stuff I have watched (and some stuff I haven't). Some of these are just to make fun of these anime, but I don't fault any seiyuu for taking a bad role because you do what you need to to make that bread 🍞

His list of roles is big but not as big as some other voice actors, so I was able to go through which ones I had watched or heard of quite quickly. He has made some random appearances in other anime that I've watched where I went "Huh, definitely know this guy from somewhere" like Fire Force, Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun, and Kaguya-sama.

Note: I haven't watched Jojo Part 6 yet or that parody magic anime with the wombat. The anime will go in no specific order, but it generally goes from "good" to "mediocre" to "these anime can go suck cheese" with anything below the "keep reading" being literal trash-tier anime. There's also some missing stuff, especially in terms of idol anime because I haven't watched those and don't plan on it for now. From looking at the cast list, I think his major idol roles are in Magic Kyun, Tsukipro, Ensemble Stars, and Idolmaster SideM (regular Idolmaster is for female idols).

Akagami no Shirayuki-hime

I was talking to a friend of mine recently when we went Christmas shopping, and when he saw this manga he went, "I didn't like that one." I personally did like this one. His complaint was that too much time was given to the secondary love interest. Umehara plays a supporting (but recurring) character.

((This scene still makes me laugh to this day. Kaori Nazuka was really funny here.))

Fruits Basket (remake)

Okay, Umehara admittedly barely shows up in this one, but people should watch Fruits Basket no matter who they are. It's good for the soul. That is all.

((It took me so long to find a fricking gif of this bir-- guy.))

Romantic Killer

Anyone who reads this or anyone who has Netflix should go watch this.

((Kabe-down))

Tenchi Souzou Design-bu

This anime is surprisingly not directly creationism, but it sure comes close! As a biology major, this anime was pretty neat, but some of it made me go, "What am I watching anyway?" I'm not an ecology specialist though, so maybe this makes more sense to others. His character is a supporting character, but he has some funny bits.

((He also gets to rap in this role, so that was kind of funny. My other favourite lines are "Wow, Mercury is dead!" and "WOO! SAIKOU NI COOL!!!"))

SSSS.Dynazenon

This one was not nearly as good as Gridman which was already divisive in the mecha community (that I'm not a part of). I heard from others that it was enjoyable, but I personally thought it was a bit of a bore. Props to the casting director for getting Chika Anzai and her cousin Junya Enoki. There are some subbed radio segments that are funny too.

((Also, this is the first anime I watched where he was cast as an ugly adult. Ain't nobody falling for kinoko hair over here. He has also played a piece of sperm, but I digress.))

Dame x Prince

This anime was built for cringe, and it succeeds at cringe. But because it embraces the cringe, it unironically becomes one of the better anime adaptations of an otome game which is like saying you're the tallest dwarf of the seven dwarfs. It also gave a long-running radio with Kaito Ishikawa and Soma Saito.

Shingeki no Bahamut: Virgin Soul

I genuinely remember so little about this anime that I went to go watch clips to refresh my memory, and this anime wasn't even bad. It was mediocre, but for something based off a card game, they did really well. I actually watched this for Sumire Morohoshi and her bubbly character Nina. This is technically a sequel, so you'd need to watch the previous one to fully understand it. Oddly enough, I didn't know the first season was a romance until some characters kissed.

Gakuen Babysitters

This one was essentially built to be a comfort watch. It works at what it wants to do, but I don't like kids. The ending theme is cute, but Nishiyama looked way more into it (Umehara was there to get paid).

Shinchou Yuusha

I personally thought this anime was gonna be a Konosuba, and it kind of was, but it was far more palatable for me (I was not able to make it through Konosuba and will try again at a later date). Aki Toyosaki carries 99% of the comedy in this anime.

((That slime never did anything to youuuuuuu)

Orenchi no Furo Jijou

Fun fact: I watched this before knowing what a shounen ai was! I saw the shounen part and went "Oh, so my demographic" watched it, came out, and went "What. Was. That?!" I don't remember a whole ton about it, but I don't remember it being horrendous. It's just some mermaid in a bathtub. I think this was his debut role, and he does play a main character.

Juuni Taisen

This is probably in a similar boat as Tenkuu Shinpan (later in the list). It's just a bloodbath of an anime, but I will give it credit that it has fanservice for both sides (they sexualize men and women). Anyways, it has a stacked seiyuu cast for something that is so incredibly mediocre.

Tada-kun wa Koi wo Shinai

He had to be replaced partway through due to his acute immune disease. However, I think he recorded it in post-production. Either way, it's a supporting character in an anime that I think wasn't worth the watch besides the banger of an opening. Masayoshi Ohishi has a knack for writing openings for romcoms (he likes romcoms himself).

((He's the glasses guy))

Tenkuu Shinpan

I kinda want to watch this one just to turn off my brain and watch some Battle Royale-style gore.

((That character looks sick.))

Darling in the Franxx

Apparently, you're supposed to watch the first 12 episodes then dip, but come on, when the mechas are built like that, I'm not touching that thing. Even though it has Haruka Tomatsu and one of her most famous characters, I'm not watching it.

((It took me over 100 gifs to find one with Gorou in them despite typing in "Gorou Darling in the Franxx", and he is part of the main cast.))

Goblin Slayer

You know, for such an edgy first episode, this series is so mid at the genre it tries to take on after. Umehara said himself, "He doesn't really say much of importance." This anime has sexual violence (and it's explicit), and it's not even good.

Plunderer

I haven't watched this one, but he does star alongside his bandmate Yoshiki Nakajima. Both of them have been in better anime that is certainly not this one. I even read a chapter or two of the manga when it first started airing and went, "They're really making that, huh?"

((He forgot one streak of hair when dyeing it haha))

Kabuki-bu!

I couldn't make it through three episodes, but maybe I'll try again-- actually, no I won't.

Uchitama

Hmm... I haven't watched this one. It's not hard to see why, but basically, I have not reached that level of degeneracy, and if I do, someone should put me out of my misery.

Senjuushi

Fun fact: This anime is so bad that it has a rating similar to Boku no P-- I'm not finishing that title. I obviously didn't watch this one.

Makura no Danshi

I didn't watch this one, but I saw a video on it and was near tears from laughter and despair because there's no fricking way someone made an anime about this concept AND got Masayoshi Ohishi to write an OP for it. This is the stupidest thing I've seen in a while, and just being close to it made me even more embarrassed that I watch anime. I also listened to Masayoshi's version of the OP before I knew what it was connected to or how to understand some words in Japanese. After learning its association, I was legally obligated to take that song off my playlist.

[undeadvinyls]

sandy and THE all-stars relationship chart!

All-Star-

OH he's the protective one. throws hands every time something bad happens to her. he's got the most dad energy from all the stars, and weirdly he's the smartest on the team, which is kind of, like being the tallest dwarf. sometimes has to get sandy outta her antics, but does dangerous shit with her as well.

Rugby-Star-

He's always down to the party with her, he's sometimes too slow for such energetic teenager, but they end up paying rugby together like two monsters. as he's one of the few all-stars still with hair, he sometimes makes her hair and styles it but still, sometimes shit comes outta it and Sandy gets angry.

Baseball-Star-

He's the stupidest and sometimes munches on the fucking baseball balls. because of that, sandy ALSO does that out of a habit to calm her ass down. their favourite thing to do is basically playing baseball, but the baseball are the plants, like cabbage pult. sandy is the batter and that's how they make salads. Hockey-Star-

She goes ice skating with him and Goalie, on one foot of course, as, who cares about functional ice skates? He was the creator of the "penalty box" idea, a thingy from Sandy's childhood, when she would misbehave, they'd throw her into the penalty box. Hockey would sometimes sit there with her too. so he lets her commit all bad shit and takes pride in it

Cricket-Star-

They cook together, or at least, try. TRY. because both can burn down the whole kitchen and even set on fire the fucking water, that's why they're not allowed in the kitchen. they want to play cricket but since he doesn't actually know how to play it, they instead end up just batting the ball around. he's the gentle one tho, he brings sandy emotional support

Goalie-Star-

Sandy spends the least time with him, not because she hates him or something, but because of his fucking goalie mask. you don't want to be sitting in the kitchen at 3 AM getting a snack and then you notice one of your dads in his fucking MASK AND PJs in the darkness. confuses him for jason voorhees, and that's all because he was the one to show horrors to her and they watch them together when no one's watching.

Golf-Star-

thought golf would be boring and lame af but once she noticed his habit of destroying the lawn, they started to spice the games up and instead of golf balls they'd use fucking bombs. it's funny for them. they drift in golf carts too. he teaches her how to aim too

Wrestling-Star-

He taught her all the cool moves and hand-to-hand tricks, and mastered it so hard that even he can't beat her anymore. honestly sandy learnt karate and judo from a self-defense course, he just brought the fun with some cool-ass moves he showed her. they like to wrestle plants together. he's the super cool one

Tennis-Star-

OH he's her fave but only he knows about it. she learnt how to be a menace to society from him. they throw random tennis balls at ANYTHING and ANYONE and giggle their asses off. he's another softie to her too, always says nice words to her and takes full happiness and pride whenever sandy participates in some matches. they like to sprint-tackle-race too

Moto X-Star-

Another one she spends the least time with, but that's cause of the fact he stinks like shit and worse than all All-Stars combined. Sandy smells bad too, like a sweated decaying corpse mixed with some cheap perfumes but HE? he's the worst. thoo.. he's the cool one despite it all, gifted sandy a moped and taught her how to drive the thing. in mud of course

[struggling-with-time]

Cousin of a cousin’s wedding [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x Gender neutral!reader

Series: And they were roommates

Summary: “Fake dating au” requested by anon

Warnings: angst

Words: 2.2K

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long, it was supposed to be around 750 words... 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You barely remember the conversation leading up to the now 7-hour drive. Corpse had asked you to be his date for the cousin of a cousin’s wedding, he didn’t want to feel awkward all night so bringing you along would help a lot.

However you were now sitting in the car packed for the weekend about 2 hours down the road when Corpse had dropped the bomb.

“Could you pretend to be my partner? I just don’t want my aunts to bother me all night about dating, and then when you don’t leave my side all night won’t be looked upon as weird.”

You had never met more than his initiate family so of course you would be staying close to him, but this was a bit unexspected, and now you were going to be in love with him for a whole weekend only to have it ripped out of your reach Sunday afternoon. You knew you should say no, this could only end in catastrophy. But your voiced betrayed you, as you heard it answer him.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” Yes you did, you did mind a lot. What were you doing? You were screaming at yourself on the inside, while kindly smiling to the squirming Corpse beside you. You observed a wave of relief hit his face.

“Thank you, Y/N you’re my savior. I own you one.” He breathes out, why was he so stupid? Oh god now he had to act like he didn’t want to kiss you badly behind closed door but be able to express it free in the open. Why could he not just have kept his mouth shut? At least his aunts will be easier to deal with. They were the worst part of any family gathering.

The two of you got lost in music, both needing to escape from the impending doom each of your minds was trying to show you was going to happen.

You finally pull up to the estate of the wedding, Corpse looking as out of place as you feel. It was bright and everything was baby pink and baby blue. You have by now realized, you have no clue who the bride and groom are, and Corpse doesn’t seem to completely be sure either. This is going to be a rollercoaster of a weekend.

The two of you grab your bags, as you close the car Corpse is standing beside you, now packed with both bags and a hand outstretch. Oh yeah, couple. You have to be a couple for the weekend. This is fine. Totally. You can keep your cool. You look away as you take his hand, trying to keep the blush creeping up to you a bay.

Corpses eyes are fixated on your hand together, your hand just fit so perfectly in his, he knows he’s going to be keeping it in his now for as long as possible the rest of the weekend. He stands by watching as you check the two of you in under Corpses name, he can hear you ask if there is a possibility to get room service. He doesn’t register the answer, just the squeeze of your hand, as you can feel him start to lean back and forth on his feet.

Corpse lets out a breath as he puts your bags down on the bed, it’s a double bed. You’ve slept together before. It has been some time, but it’s not something that has never happened before. Corpse falls down onto the bed feeling how soft it is.

“Corpse! You can’t sleep now, we still have to greet everyone, but I wouldn’t mind missing it.” You sigh as you begin to open your bags and take out your outfits for tomorrow, and the rehearsal dinner tonight. You hang them up next to each other on the closet door.  You admire them, how in the world are you going to be paying attention to anyone but Corpse?

Corpse has pushed himself onto his elbows curious at your sudden silence, looking at your two outfits for the weekend, mirroring your thoughts. How in the world is going to be paying attention to anything but you?

“You’re…” He swallows “You’re going to be wearing that?” You turn around beaming at him

“Yes! Do you like it?” You take off the rehearsal outfit of its hanger and does the same with his. You’re excited to see him in a suit for the first time. It’s going to be a sight for ages, and you know it. You don’t notice Corpse flops back onto the bed.

Y/N is going to be the death of me. That is the only thought running through Corpses head as you begin to get ready for the greetings and the rehearsal dinner.  

“You’re going to look very… Nice?” Why did you say it like that Corpse? He nearly smacks himself in the head out of regret.

He finally rolls off the bed as you throw his outfit at him, ignoring his comment, not knowing how to take it, was it a compliment?

The two of you finish up, both trying to subtly check the other out, too busy to notice the other checking them out. You can smell the tension three doors down the hall.

He offers you his arm, and you happily take it after locking up the room you’ve been lodged into. You relish in the feeling of him leading you for as long as possible until you end up in the now bit crowed area of the lounge. You can feel Corpse tensing, so you do the only thing you can think of.

“Baby, it’s okay, I’m right here.” You reassure him. He smiles down at you. clearly already feeling calmer from knowing you’re there.

Baby?? Baby?? Y/N called you baby, and you didn’t do anything. Corpses thoughts are running wild of other nicknames he can suddenly hear you call him in the next two days.

He introduces you to a couple of cousins he vaguely remembers meeting when he was young. But a lot of the people there, he hasn’t met either. You were the more outgoing of the two of you. Which was kind of like being the tallest dwarf. You to what everyone tells you, and you nod at the right time. Corpse hasn’t been listening to anyone else since you came down here. You’ve invaded all of his mind in that outfit and by just being there, hearing you call him your partner, and baby. He’s whipped and you’re not even his.

The rehearsal dinner goes well, you’re seated between some people Corpse hasn’t met either, so the two of you keep to yourself. You’re chatting along, and having fun, both enjoying the couples part, having a bit of fun trash talking some of the others when you can see them be rude to the servers.

After dinner you greet the bride and groom, they seem nice, the bride like so many others vaguely remembers Corpse from that one family gathering back in that aunts house ages ago. They tell you they’re happy that he has finally found someone to take care of him, you thank them. Corpse is clearly embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

Another half an hour of mingling goes by before the bar is open and you tell Corpse you’ll be right back with something to drink.

You try to get the bartenders attention, but he seems preoccupied with flirting with an elderly woman down the bar, seemingly willing to give him tips. That’s when a man approaches you, he’s cleanly shaven and like so many others in an expensive suit.

“Here let me help you.” He tell you, before whistling, making the bartender come over.

“Thank you,” you tell him, before you give your order to the bartender.

“What’s someone like you doing hanging over by the bar?” He asks

“The same as you,” you can already tell where this is going, and can feel the dread creeping up on you for having answered.

“Then have the drink with me.” He offers ever so politely, you glance after the bartender. Hoping for him to come back soon.

“No thanks, I’ll be alright.” You tell him, and starts looking for Corpse in the crowd, but you can no longer see the place where you left him standing.

“C’mon it’s just one drink.” He persist, “it’ll be on my tab.”

“I’m sorry, I’m here with someone tonight.” You decline once again. Hoping for the drinks to be finished soon.

“One drink, just one.” He offers again.

“I think my partner here made it very clear. No.” You can hear the deep voice behind you, you lean into his arms as they embrace you from around the stomach. If you weren’t wrong you could hear a hint pf possessiveness in his voice, and that sent the right kinds of chills down your spine.

The man puts his hand up. “It was just a lighthearted offer, nothing to be making a fuss about.” He walks away.

You look up at Corpse, your drinks forgotten, the two of you just wanting to rest. You head for the bedroom, knowing there will be an even longer day in front of you tomorrow.

As you strip down in the bathroom you call out to Corpse.

“You know I could have handled that myself, right?”

“I know, doesn’t mean that you always have to though.” He calls back.

The two of you settle comfortably into bed, you can feel Corpse pull you into him, and you let him do it.

You’re awakened by the sun streaming in through the windows. Corpse is already up and showering, you yawn as you get out of bed, and look over the outfits for the day. There was a breakfast buffe, but the two of you settle with room service, and a nice silent morning together.

You take your time to get ready, as the two of you aren’t invited to the church, which is understandable. You have no clue how many you are here, but the small church attached to the large manor, doesn’t seem to be able to fit everyone attending.

You fix Corpse tie, as you finish up and check over yourself. The two of you linger close, before you pull away and dust down his jacket with your hand.

The dinner is what Corpse has been dreading the most. His aunts. They’ll be seated at the same table as you. Which means every aspect of his life will be scrutinized with certainty.

You let him lead you to the table, minimizing the amount of time you must mingle with others. The couple gets introduced and then the first course is served. This is when the first of the 4 aunts around you starts to question your life. What jobs do you have? Did you ever finish college? Why aren’t you more like my children?

You put your hand on Corpses thigh, and you can feel him melt underneath your touch. He puts his hand on top of yours, as he tries to calmly answer every question that gets thrown at you. but his mind keep wandering to the hand that’s burning a hole through his trousers.

The speeches flies by as the two of you go back into your little couple bubble, as you have dubbed it in your own mind. You know by tomorrow noon the spell will be broken, but you will enjoy every bit until then. By the time desert rolls around, both you and Corpse have gotten a bit of alcohol inside and is ready to hit the bar when desert finally gets taken off the table.

You giggle at something he said as he whispers it into your ear. You’re both drunk, and both having forgotten the couple thing was to help Corpse calm his nerves. The next thing you remember is the headache you had when you woke up.

You remember waking up and realizing you had significantly less on than usual when heading to bed. The scared look on Corpses face when you met his eyes explained enough for you.

The two of you packed your things in silence, only talking to each other, when thanking the newly weds for their hospitality, before heading to the car. Riding 7 hours in silence back to your apartment in San Diego. The spell certainly broken.

How you both wished that it had been real, and how you both wished you knew how to bring up what had happened and tell the other you wouldn’t mind continuing like that. Instead you both kept your mouths shot, with your minds running more miles per hours than the car.

[inkandpen22]

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (2/?)

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader / Prince Caspian x Female!Reader  

Warning: mild mentions of violence 

Word Count: 1.8k

Part Summary: Y/N and the Pevensies search the surrounding cliffs and they start to piece together what happened since the Pevensies leaved. Then, someone is nearly attacked... 

A/N: As requested, I’m releasing one more part today! In the next part Y/N meets Caspian!!!! Get hyped! 

Masterlist

After our antics on the beach, the five of us hike up the cliffs after Edmund spotted some old runes he mentioned not remembering. Peter holds my hand the entire way. One, because when does he not frankly? Two, because I don't keep my eyes ahead of us as I'm too distracted by everything around me. I've never seen any place Narnia! There's so much untouched land, for as far as the eye can see! I've lived in London my whole life. There's constant noise and good luck finding a patch of grass that isn't a park. I had only ever been to the ocean a handful of times and it never looked like this one. The water is so clear and crystal blue! Also, I swear I saw an actual mermaid tail flick up through the surface at one point.

"So you really don't remember these?" I question, referring to the runes. 

"Not from what I can recall," Edmund pants ahead.

Once we finally reach the ancient-looking stone structures, we all start to wonder about the place individually to figure out where we landed. Peter and I, however, remain together and stroll about. Trees and bushes of various kinds have grown over the rubble. It's must've been centuries, perhaps even thousand of years, since this place was inhabited.

As Peter climbs to the tallest point to get a better look, I pick a bright red apple from its branch and toss it to Lucy with a giggle. I stroll over to the edge of the platform that overlooks the western coast. Scattered bits of green covered land streak the horizon. Whoever lived here was lucky, they had the most incredible view! The sunsets must be unparalleled.

"I wonder who lived here?" Lucy questions beside me.

"I think we did..."

I glance over my shoulder and Susan holds up something in her hand. I narrow my eyes at the shiny object and I go over to join her.

"Hey, that's mine!" Edmund announces as he takes the thing from Susan. "From my chess set!"

"What chess set?" Peter interlocks his hand with mine once he reaches us.

"Well I didn't exactly have a solid gold chess set in Finchley did I?" Edmund sasses, examining the piece.

"It can't be!" Lucy runs off, shocker.

The four of us follow the youngest swiftly to catch up. It annoyed me when she would run off in London and I know that city like the back of my hand. If she continues to run off in a foreign land... okay, so I don't know what I'm going to do, but I sure won't be happy about it!

Lucy takes Peter's hand and starts to escort him up a platform. I slip my from his, which earns me a subtle glare of annoyance. I snicker as Lucy aligns Peter in a specific place. She sets each of her siblings in a spot, clearly onto something. 

 "Imagine walls," she instructs. "And pillars there!" She points before stopping in her own place on the far side. "And glass roof!"

I observe the four siblings lined up a few feet above me on the platform. I start to see what I think Lucy is envisioning. The pile of rock behind each of them, they're remnants of thrones! I look to Peter and he's starting to process it too.

"Cair Paravel," he concludes with a solemn expression.

We continue searching the once glorious palace that Peter vividly described to me countless times this past year. Peter is understandably crossed and has grown quiet. All I can do is continue holding his hand and rub my free one on his arm comfortingly. I hate not being of more use in figuring out what happened here. In my defense, I've never been to Narnia before.

Edmund jogs ahead and kneels beside a boulder. "Catapults," he mutters.

"What?" Peter finally breaks his silence.

"This didn't just happen," Edmund determines. "Cair Paravel was attacked."

After a moment, Peter marches off with a stern expression. Silently, he takes me along with him on his march without slowing down. Lucy and the others follow, just as confused as me. Clearly, Peter knows where he's going and is on a mission to get there. I would ask him where exactly our destination is, but I prefer to keep my head.

Abruptly, he stops in front of a tower-like structure. He releases my hand and starts to remove brush from the building. Edmund helps him press against the stone which eventually shifts to reveal a worn wooden door with a lion engraved on the handle. Peter picks up a rock and starts to go at the wood panels. The door breaks and gives way to expose a dark stairwell leading down. I glance over at Lucy and Susan who simply watch their brothers act. Evidently, they must remember this place too.

Peter rips the bottom of his shirt and starts wrapping it around a stick he’d picked up. "Don't suppose you have any matches, do you?" He checks with his brother.

Ed starts to dig through his bag. "No, but would this help?" He reveals his torch.

The girls and I giggle. Of course this would happen.

"You might've mentioned that a bit sooner!" Peter laughs.

Ed starts leading the way down the stairs. Peter gestures for his sisters to go then holds out his hand to me. He follows behind me down the grumbled stairs. I'm really trusting these four not to get me killed, aren't I? The three ahead of Peter and I and hurry around inside. 

Sunlight pours in from skylights and my eyes land on four golden trunks are line up perfectly in a half circle.

"I can't believe it," Peter expresses as he appears by my side. "It's all still here!"

The three younger Pevensies start to search through their old trunks while Peter and I examine the dusty treasures that have been knocked around from the attack. Peter picks up what appears to be shield and blows away the dirt that hides the giant lion face on it.

"Was it your's?" I ask over his shoulder

He hums, holding it out for me to see better. "Many years ago..."

My eyes flicker up from the shield and land on a marble statue ahead. The figure appears so familiar, yet how would that be possible?

"Wait," I step forward to study the face better. "Is this you?" I point.

"Yes," Peter laughs, placing a hand on my lower back gently. "Again, many years ago. I was older then."

I shake my head in awe, "yeah, no kidding."

"Here Y/N!"

I turn my attention to Susan and she tosses me a royal blue velvet gown. "You can borrow it," she grins. "It'll help you blend in."

I hold up medieval style dress in front of me. The only time I ever imagined myself wearing something like this was for Halloween.

"Take this too," Peter hands me a dagger from his trunk.

"Why would I need a weapon?" I frown. 

"Not every creature in Narnia is necessarily in favor of us," Edmund snickers, glancing between his siblings.

Peter rests his chin on my shoulder as I examine the red leather handled dagger in my hands. "It's alright," Peter comforts with a whisper in my ear. "I'll keep you safe... promise."

"I could I at least have a real weapon?" I request, laughing lightly. "If I'm going to be in real life threatening situation, I prefer to have a weapon that doesn't require me to be mere feet from my opposer!” 

Peter snickers, collecting items to change into. 

"I might as well kiss my life goodbye,” I add under my breath. 

"I got this katana as a gift from the Emperor of the Eastern Desert Lands," Edmund offers.

"What's that?" I've never heard of it before.

Ed removes the sword from its sheath with a whoosh as I cross the chamber to him. Its curved, thin, long, blade would be perfect. I graze my finger tips across the shining blade, in awe of it.

"I did research on it when we returned to our world. It's native to Japan, amongst the Samurai," he explains, placing the sleek black and gold handle in my hand.

"Hey! Hey!" Peter appears at my side in a blink. "Careful!"

"I got it! I got it! Don't get your knickers in a twist," I tease. I turn hold the sword up right to admire the blade closer.

"You could get hurt with that." Peter still worries.

"I could get hurt by someone attacking me too," I sass, lowering the weapon to address my friend. 

His eyes meet mine, filled with annoyance. He wants me to simply agree with him all the time. 

I smile, "wouldn't you prefer I have a sturdy way of defending myself?"  

"I think your words and wit would be enough to frighten them," he smirks.

"You charm me,” I blush. 

"Always do," he winks, taking the katana from me before someone gets hurt. "You can get it back when we leave. After that, I want it in its sheath unless absolutely necessary! I mean it, Y/N!"

I watch him slip the blade back into its leather casing cautiously. I place my hand over his to gain his attention. 

"You may be the King of Narnia, but you forget I'm not one of your subjects," I mock playfully.

"You're right," he agrees surprisingly. Gently, he picks up my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Then, his features turns serious. "But while you're here your safety is my responsibility."

I roll my eyes, I hate how he patronizes me. One would think I'm one of his little sisters too with how protective he can get. Actually, he's less overbearing toward his siblings, even Lucy and she's significantly younger than me! With my luck something bad will happen, I will be away from Peter, and then what? I will be left with the dagger toy he gave me. As soon as I get that sword in my hands, I'm not giving it back. I'm just going to have to prove my capability to Peter.

___________________________________

Okay, so Edmund was right, some creatures don't like us! A black bear quite literally attacked Lucy! Fully charged at her and was going to eat her as a midday snack! That was until the DLF shot it with his arrow. DLF as in “Dear Little Friend.” His real name is Trumpkin, he’s the dwarf we saved from some Telmarines. Telmarines are apparently from another land in this world. They're human like us, but not friendly! I repeat not friendly!

Peter quickly grabs his little sister and pulls her to safety by me. I take her into my arms and comfort her as she cries. 

"I thought you said the animals could talk?!" I scream at Peter, rightfully distraught. 

"They can! I mean... they could..." Peter stammers, evidently just as lost as me.

“We... we just killed an innocent bear!” I stumble over my words. “We took an innocent animals life!”

“Innocent?! He was going to kill Lucy!” Edmund justifies it. 

“Y/N’s right!” Susan defends. “It clearly didn’t know any better!”  

“It was probably hungry!” Trumpkin shouts over all of us arguing. 

“Great! That makes me feel so much better!” I shout at the dwarf. 

"You've been away for a while... ” Trumpkin grumbles bitterly. 

He pulls his dagger and stabs the bear. I cover Lucy’s eyes so she doesn’t see the horrid sight. Peter notices me grimace and guides my face to hide in his chest. 

Was the stabbing really necessary?! It’s dead! 

“I think you'll find Narnia is a more savage place than you remember,” Trumpkin adds. 

"Oh lovely!" I sarcastically remark. "Looking forward to it!"

"Just stay close to me," Peter instructs, keeping one arm around me and the other around Lucy. 

"Don't have to ask me twice," I mutter, utterly afraid. 

Narnia is supposed to be this fairytale lovely land! There are pixies and stuff here! Where are the dancing trees?! Where are the people made of flowers?! I envisioned Neverland and I got a fence-less zoo! 

_______________________

Tags:  @hyperactiveravenclaw @rangergranger11​ @blackbirddaredevil23​

Masterlist

[my-writings-and-musings]

Answering these two asks in a post so all the content can stay in one place!

The original post in question can be found here!

Drift

·He's delighted to have a whole group of young humans on board to foster diplomacy, and he fully intends to do whatever is necessary to make them feel safe and welcome. Though his introduction is polite, the small crowd immediately takes note of his ever present swords, and to his delight their reaction is purely one of innocent awe at his impressive weaponry. Always happy to encourage responsible sword use, he explains the significance of each blade and is incredibly careful when showing the very tiny and very delicate humans what they look like up close. Their delight is so simple and pure some part of him is reminded of his long gone naivety, and his promise to protect them becomes a vow he never intends to break while his own spark still flickers.

·When he casually mentions time on earth one day the group is surprised and effusive in a sudden burst of questions. When he's actually able to recall a surprising amount of pop culture facts their little minds are nearly blown, and from then on they seem to seek him out just to socialize, something that quite surprises him for a multitude of reasons. Even after all his time with the Autobots, many still don't fully accept him as one of their own, so to be seen as a companion by beings so young and innocent... If absolutely touches him, while also making him determined to ensure they never discover that aspect of his life. He tells himself it's for their safety, and that the young shouldn't be troubled with burdens not their own, but he knows that losing the simple delight of their company and respect would hurt him deeply.

·Due to his need for frequent training to keep his skills sharp, it's no surprise that his little fans one day stumble upon him dicing up training dummies in one of the many gymnasium inspired practice areas. Upon seeing them in action he's soon surrounded by a group of very eager wannabe sword fighters, and while he's still recovering from the idea that he's wanted as a teacher a casual mention of Spectralism prompts a new wave of curiosity and interest that he can barely handle. It takes all of his willpower just to keep from letting on how impossibly touched he is by each and every one of them. They're just... interested in who he is? They look up to him just because they think he's cool and want to learn more about his faith, his skills, and his passions...

·The simple goodness of the relationship is all brought to what he thinks to be the end when his past is exposed by accident. He's not even with them when they find out, but he's devastated, and can't bring himself to face them now that they know who he used to be. It's only through sheer determination on behalf of the whole group, and what he thinks is bad luck for him, that the young liaisons manage to find and speak to him once more. For an instant he breaks and can only apologize effusively, begging their forgiveness for... well, everything from the secret to letting them down to allowing them to believe he was what they thought he was. It takes all of them working in tandem to speak over him and make one thing clear; no one is angry.

·His little group of fans makes it abundantly clear they don't see him as "Deadlock" or a Decepticon or anything but the bot they've come to respect. He's not his past in their eyes, and his present has been nothing but kind and welcoming to each and every one of them. Their little hands take hold of his in a gesture of affirmation, and in the strength of their compassion he can't help but feel dwarfed by each of them. Somehow, the experience brings them even closer, and they can frequently be heard referring to their "older brother" when heading off for the training sessions he painstakingly caters to their size. When some of them begin to show him Spectralist greetings and goodbyes he has to take the time to shed a few tears in private, but they definitely notice how affected he is regardless, and each of them make a point to show him how important he is to them every day.

Rodimus

·It was his own genius diplomatic skills that got these little humans secured on the ship in the first place, so he's quite eager to welcome them on board when the day finally comes. The fact that he stresses about impressing them for hours beforehand is something he keeps entirely to himself though... Yet it turns out he has nothing to fear, because each human is rendered speechless merely by the size of the Lost Light when they first see it, and he can't help but be made giddy as a result. He doesn't need to fake any of the enthusiasm he shows as he takes them on a tour, speeding through the hallways and alternating between giving them lifts in vehicle mode and bot mode, the latter of which has him carrying the group on his shoulders and in his arms.

·It's impossible not to be shocked as he sees the humans all... like and respect him immediately? Everything from his altmode to his jokes, they just... their little faces light up and they compliment him and they all want to hang out with him again as soon as possible?! What is this?! Despite having no idea he happily throws himself into this new and strange relationship with these tiny humans. So many of the interests and hobbies he's been told are "unfit" for a bot in his position are met with fascination, support, and requests for him to teach them all he can. It quickly goes from pleasantly surprising to absolutely touching. The whiplash of suddenly having so much positive attention spurs a change in him, namely one of uncharacteristic levels of protective instinct towards these precious visitors.

·Though he's entirely casual to their faces, behind the scenes he's checking on absolutely everything to ensure they're all taken care of. Are their rooms comfortable? Is the food to their liking? Does the crew make them feel welcome? Can he do anything to make their stay better? The various bots he checks in with to ensure everything is running smoothly quickly grow irritated with his constant pestering, though this new side of him is refreshing to most, particularly because he hasn't ever been this responsible about anything in the past. He even checks in with Magnus on the regular! And submits reports in a timely fashion! All to make sure he's doing everything in his power to keep these young liaisons as happy as he can.

·To the humans themselves though, he's the ultimate fun uncle, introducing them to the entire crew and showing them all the fun things there are to do around the ship. If he hears even a rumor that one of them is missing something about their home or wants to try something they don't have the ability to make happen, you better believe he is going to do everything in his power as captain to get things going. But of course he keeps all this work to himself, he wants to be the most effortlessly cool bot they know, and also doesn't want to concern them with all of the details. Unfortunately a slip up for one particularly epic movie night at Swerve's reveals the many sleepless hours he spent arranging it all, and in his rushed reasurances it comes out that he's been working himself ragged taking care of their every need.

·The entire group is shocked by his dedication, but also his incredible talent. He's funny, charismatic, friendly, and he's also been doing so much for them? The entire group brings him into an impromptu hug of appreciation, and he very nearly tears up in front of them. Somehow, these young aliens have become everything he didn't know he needed. They're his friends, but they look up to him, and his new honorifics of "Fun uncle" and "big brother" are there to prove it. But from then on they refuse to let him do all the work of arranging things himself. If someone has an idea to improve the ship, it gets done as a group, with one very happy bot surrounded by his ever present posse of humans ready to help the coolest captain in the galaxy. They're even kind enough to pretend they don't see the happy tears misting his optics from time to time.

Rung

·Not having ever been to earth, along with never seeing humans outside of their media, means he really didn't know what to expect of the incoming humans. Hearing that they were all exceptionally young just made him concerned, especially after a quick bit of research made it apparent that humans are quite emotionally turbulent in this protoformesque stage. He's not concerned for his sake though, even the tallest human is tiny at his side, he's worried they made need a little extra assistance adjusting to life after such a big change. Thus, he makes quite sure to be present when they're brought on board to introduce himself and extend his services. A small part of him can't help but be delighted upon meeting them; so small, yet so exuberant! They're all polite despite their wide eyed wonder at... everything, but his description of his proffesion really catches their attention for a group exclamation; Cybertronians have psychologists?!

·Having prepared to offer help, he's blindsided by their interest in simply... learning about his career? They want to know about the places he's been and the ships he's served on, particularly when they learn he has models of each, and they're so small he's not at all worried when he brings a couple collectibles down for them to see up close. Watching these little beings clamor to see something most of his own kind finds boring makes the protective feelings in his spark strengthen into a promise to keep each and every one of them safe. He takes note of each individual human's traits and personalities while memorizing their names, being quite aware of how much it means to simply have one's designation remembered, and also commits to guiding them all through their unique interests and goals.

·Spending time with the liaisons in their group as well as one on one, it doesn't occur to him that they don't follow the same pattern as every Cybertronian he's ever met until one of them brings it up; why do the other bots always get his name wrong? It's only in that moment he realizes none of them have ever forgotten, mispronounced, or even hesitated to say his name. The surprise is enough that he can't even reply to them initially. When he does manage to find words they're quite insufficient, and he tries to explain that even he doesn't know, but he's always just assumed his small stature and quiet demeanor simply meant he tended to fade from memory rather quickly. Nothing else beyond his "historical constant" theory really explains it, as far as he knows.

·Ever able to defy expectations, the little liaisons react to his indirect self depreciation with emphatic reasurances that he's not at all forgetable, and are so intent on making sure he knows that they speak over one another in an emotional gaggle of supportive youngsters. It's all more than the quiet psychiatrist could have ever expected. Of course he never enjoyed being forgotten, but he's become so accustomed to dismissing those feelings he has no way to process this sudden outpouring of support. The humans are all around him in a kind of embrace, which is made difficult mostly due to the number of them and the size difference, but the affection in the gesture is still quite clear. It's all he can do to hold them in return as they all promise to never forget him no matter what happens.

·He keeps his tears private, but that doesn't stop them from coming when he's behind closed doors, though he just lets the happiness brim over into the few that run down his cheeks after he removes his glasses. The irony of it all doesn't hit him until he and the group are present at a movie night, and as he listens to them all gush in turn to the cinema selection of the evening it occurs to him that his initial intent to help them has been flipped quite completely around. These little ones have helped him, helped him feel worth remembering, helped him feel like he belongs, helped him find a family... Watching them gather around him almost protectively from a forgetful world, he isn't quite sure if he's been adopted or if they have, but he can't bring himself to care about such details. Neither can any of the liaisons who vowed to each other their new friend would never feel lonely again.

[maxiskindahere]

Beautiful - Heathers/Six

SHIPS: Aralyn/Parrlyn & KatAnna,

In which no one here are reincarnations AND the author decided to himself “hey! i always see The 3 K/Catherine’s as the Heathers, let’s switch this shit up”

Heathers!Six AU

September first, 1989

Dear Diary, I believe i’m a good person, you know? I believe there’s good in everyone but uh.. here we are! first day of junior year!... and uh look around at these kids that I’ve known all my life and I ask myself... what happened?

Katherine, or Kitty as she goes by, sighs as she wanders around the halls, hearing people whisper as she walks by them

we were so tiny, happy and shiny playing tag and getting chased, singing and clapping laughing and napping, baking cookies eating paste.. then we got bigger that was the trigger like the huns invading Rome.

“Oh Sorry!” Kit quickly apologies as she runs into someone, who scoffs before shoving her away

Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school.. this is the thunder dome. hold your breathe and count the days, we’re graduating soon. College will be paradise if i’m not dead by June.

Katherine sighs as she continues to walk towards the dining hall, avoiding any eye contact at all and trying hard to remain unseen. She did not want to be harassed today.

But I know, I know! I know.. “Life can be beautiful” I pray.. I pray for a better day. If we changed back then, we can change again, we can be beautiful...

“Ow!” Someone yells as Thomas Culpepper trips him over, Katherines eyes immediately shooting in his direction

...just not today.

“Hey are you okay?” Kit asks softly as she tries to help him up, the man scrambles to his feet before saying “Get away from me nerd!” Kit purses her lips before nodding to herself and walking to the dining hall

Things will get better, soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma, then I can blow this town. Dream of my ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafes...

Kit flinches as she hits into Thomas Culpeper, not looking forward to how he’s gonna react “Watch it!” He yells at her, as she quickly tries to hide

Fight the urge to strike a match and send this dump ablaze!

Thomas upends Kis lunch tray “Ooooops.” He says unapologetically as Kat turns away from him in annoyance

Thomas Culpepper. Third year as linebacker. And eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me skank?” he hisses at her, “...Nothing.” She mumbles as he walks away from her glaring at her intensely

But I know, I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, I pray for a better way.... We were kind before; we can be kind once more. We can be beautiful...

Jane approaches from behind Kit and taps on her shoulder “Agh!... Hey Jane!” Kit says with a happy smile as she overcomes the previous shock “Hey.” Jane says as she helps kit pick up her tray.

Jane Seymour. My best friend - and cousin - since diapers.

“We on for movie night?” Jane asks softly as Kitty nods excitedly “Yeah, you're on Jiffy Pop detail. Is Annie still coming?” She asks Jane pauses before shaking her head “She said Aragon won’t let her, but she wishes she could be here.” Jane says softly as Kit frowns “I know she’s like in love with Aragon but she doesn’t need to do everything she says.” She mumbles before Jane changes the subject

“I rented The Princess Bride.” Jane says with a grin as she holds up the DvD box “Again? Don't you have it memorized by now?” Kit asks teasingly “What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending.” Jane says signing dreamily

“Jane Seymour! Wide load! Honnnnnk!” Henry yells as he knocks the tray from Jane’s hands.

Henry Tudor. Quarterback. He is the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up right now!” Kit yells in defense of Jane “I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?” Henry asks in faux confusion

“Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend? You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.” She glares at him before he pushes her back and points to her nose “...You have a zit right there.” He laughs as he walks away

Dear Diary...

Why do they hate me?

Why don't I fight back?

Why do I act like such a creep?

Why does she date me?

Why did I hit him?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

Somebody hug me!

Somebody fix me!

Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God!

Give me some hope here!

Something to live for!

Anne grins as she walks in hand in hand with Catalina de Arágon, though only she was allowed to call her it, as the trio walks in, she could feel all eyes on them, Catalina was thriving in the attention, she lived off of power. While Anne and Cathy were just glad to be there.

Then there’s the Queens, they float above it all.

Cathy walks ahead of the group, wanting nothing more than to just take a god damn nap.

Catherine Parr. Head of the student council. Her dad's loaded - he sells engagement rings.

“I’ll go see what’s up.” Anne says softly as Catalina nods, the girl quickly follows after the younger of the three and makes sure she’s okay

Anne Boleyn, my cousin. Runs the yearbook. No discernible personality, but her ex boyfriend did try to off her.

Catalina follows after her girlfriend, as other people cower out of her way, afraid they will be hurt for even looking at her

And Heather Chandler. The Almighty.

She is a mythic bitch.

They are solid Teflon - never bothered, never harassed. I would give anything to be like that.

Before Kit could continue her inner dialogue, Anne shot up from her seat and ran towards the bathrooms, a hand held over her mouth, as Catalina slowly follows while Cathy runs quickly after her

Kit couldn’t help but be curious as she follows them to hear Anne throwing up into the toilets

“Grow up, Bo-Loser, Bullima is so 87.” Catalina says rolling her eyes “Maybe you should see a doctor, Annie.” Cathy says softly, ignoring the look of jealousy Catalina gave her “Yeah, Cath. Maybe I should.” Anne mumbles as she wipes her mouth with a tissue

Mr. Boleyn walks in with a smirk “Catherine and Catherine.” He says with a smirk . Anne vomits one again

“... and Anne.” He sighs as he watches his niece exist the bathroom, “Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting. You're late for class.” He points out and shows the girls the time

“Annie wasn't feeling well. We're helping her.” Catalina says with a sad voice, but it didn’t work as he said “Not without a hall pass you're not. A week's detention.” A smirk gracing his feature

“Actually, Mr. Boleyn, all four of us are out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee.” Kit says speedily as she shows a forged note “... I see you're all listed. Hurry up and get where you're going.” He sneers as he exists the room

Catalina snatches the note out of Kits hand “This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?” She asks in admiration “Uh.. Katherine Howard, Annie’s cousin. I crave a boon.” Kit says softly

“What boon?” Lina asks in interest after hearing the girl is related to Anne “Let me sit at your table at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think you guys tolerate me, they'll leave me alone.... Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.” She says quickly, hardly taking any breaths in between words

“What about prescriptions?” Anne asks in curiousity “Shut up, Anne.” Catalina hisses, Anne flinches slightly before mumbling “sorry, lina..” She watches as Lina inspects Kits face “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure.” Lina says softly as she circles around the girl

“And a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important.” Cathy comments not looking up from her phone

“Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds.” Anne says as she notices Catalina glaring at her, before giving her cousin a sad smile

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; And Anne, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Lina says softly, “Let's make her beautiful...” Cathy agrees with a shrug, putting her phone away

“Let's make her beautiful.” Anne agrees alongside Cathy, hesitantly looking at her fosuin“Okay?” Lina questions, which Katherine immediately agrees to with stars in her eyes as they quickly rush out of the school

we can be beautiful

~

Anne & Lina r dating but it’s not a good relationship, this follows the complete plot of Heathers the musical so everything that happens in it, minus a few changes for plot,

no one else is yet

Cathy likes Anne doe but bc she’s with the mythic bitch.

ly guys tho:)

i hope you enjoy this early release

[jamilelucato]

1.Beautiful [hog. heathers]

Summary: This story is based on Heathers, the musical. It’s set in Hogwarts, back in the last year Tom Riddle studied there. Y/N is a Ravenclaw student.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x reader (later on)

Heathers Series || Musical Hogwarts List A/N: first chapter! Here you get a vision of this world I built but soon Tom will make an appearance. Hope you enjoy it! If you wanna be tagged, ask!

Tag List: @just-an-outstanding-auror​ @starcrossedyanderes​ @doctorriddle​ @cchris-a​

---

September 1st, 1943:

Dear diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I think that there’s good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year! And uh... I look around at these kids that I’ve known all my life, and I ask myself—what happened?

Another year back at Hogwarts. Your parents were excited — you, not so much. Not that the school wasn’t great, but you just couldn’t take the other students anymore.

Your family was pureblood and that generally meant some sort of status. Not anymore — the most popular kids in Hogwarts were either half-bloods or muggle-borns, so you and some fellow friends that were also purebloods were generally bullied. They saw you as potential threats, and you couldn’t understand why. It was not like purebloods wanted to see muggle-borns dead; most of you just didn’t want to mix the blood. 

One step inside the train and the gossip started:

“Freak!”

“Slut!” 

“Burnout!” 

“Bug-eyes!” 

You sighed on your way to finding an empty space to sit. You were so tiny, happy and shiny; playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping; baking cookies, eating paste.

You looked inside one compartment and weren’t welcomed.

“Bull-dyke, get out!” screamed a large boy at you.

Well, diary, you continued later when you finally found a place to sit, then we got bigger, that was the trigger, like the Huns invading Rome.

“Oh, sorry!” you said the boy before leaving his cabin.

Welcome to my school, this ain’t no high school. This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we’re graduating soon. A job will be paradise if I’m not dead by June!

You were almost reaching the end of the train, and you still couldn’t find an empty place.

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful; I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again.

We can be beautiful...

There were fewer students as you were walking, but still, none seemed so happy with the idea of sitting with you.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from the Charms Specialization Center in France. Wake from this coma, take my diploma, then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafés...

“Watch it!” shouted a tall blonde boy that had bumped into you. You didn’t even notice, but he was angry, and, as a revenge, he made you drop your diary. “Ooooops,” he laughed.

You looked at the boy. It was Ram Sweeney. Third-year as Gryffindor’s beater and seventh year of smacking kids, and being a huge... “Dick,” you whispered, suddenly angry for having to get the diary from the floor.

“What did you say to me, skank?”

Shit, he listened. “Aah, nothing!” you quickly got out of the way.

You know, diary, we were kind before; we can be kind once more. We can be beautiful...

An empty cabin at last! You sat down as fast as you could, scared it could disappear. A girl walked in just after you, and, for a moment, you were frightened.

“Hey, Myrtle!”

Myrtle was the only one you could call your friend at that place. Both of you were from Ravenclaw and had a lot of fun together, even though you two had some different perspectives on life.

“Hey,” she smiled, sitting next to you.

The train trip wasn’t much fun, but after Myrtle and you found a place to sit — and nobody tried to take you two out —, things were more peaceful.

School, on the other hand, was the same nightmare as always.

Professor Dippet said a couple of nice words before the start of the first feast, kind words about how to treat each other. For a second, it seemed as if everybody listened and were committed to obeying. But as said, it didn’t last the whole second. When the Headmaster finished his speech, people were back at their normal mean behaviour.

Days passed like a blur, or at least, you pretend that was how it went. You tried not to focus on the offensive words the students called you and Myrtle, but sometimes it was just too much.

“We on for book night?” asked Myrtle while leaving the Great Hall and walking towards the dorms.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to be with them,” you replied, smiling slightly. Myrtle had a way to trick the librarian that you never managed to have.

“Got us the ‘The Princess Bride’,” she smirked, making you giggle.

“Ho-ho-ho, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending” Myrtle crossed her arms and squeezed herself as if she had been hugged by a prince.

So different from you, but yet, the only friend you had.

“Myrtle Crybaby! Hoow!” Kurt Kelly screamed, knocking Myrtle to the ground.

Kurt Kelly was the famous Chaser from Slytherin. The smartest guy on the team, in your opinion, but that was like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! How dare you?!” you barked at him, helping Myrtle to get up. She was lived red, ashamed of the situation.

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” Kurt smirked in a mean way, challenging you.

“Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future human house-elf,” you hoped your face was as severe and furious as you were inside.

Kurt waited for you to end your speech before confidently pointing something on your face. “You have a zit right there,” he said and laughed, followed by all the other kids around you.

November 13rd, 1943:

Dear diary, why do they hate me? Why don’t I fight back? Why do they act like such creeps?

Why…

You looked around the room, making sure everybody was already asleep. Myrtle was even snoring, which made you giggle in the dark.

Writing a diary was a private thing for you, but there weren’t many ways to be in private in Hogwarts.

Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!

***

The next day promised to be as tedious as the day before, but something was different. At first, you thought it was just the change of seasons — the cold air of Winter. But it wasn’t all that.

Classes were nice. You liked your Professors, at least when they were teaching, they were neat.

You ate lunch at the Great Hall at the Ravenclaw table, just like all the days before. But that feeling in your stomach of something unusual was still there.

“Going to the toilet, okay?” you told Myrtle before leaving. In fact, there was nothing you wanted to do there except splash water in your face and see if things went back to normal.

That was when the Heathers walked in, and you hurried to close yourself behind a door, too terrified to face them.

The Heathers was a group of girls that floated above it all.

Heather McNamara was the hot witch form Hufflepuff. Her dad is loaded— one of the wizards with more money, but he was a muggle-born, so your family usually didn’t talk about him.

Heather Duke was the head girl from Slytherin, with no discernible personality, but blessed with an incredible body.

And Heather Chandler, the Almighty. She was a mythic bitch from Gryffindor and had everyone at her feet.

They’re solid Teflon—never bothered, never harassed.

I would give anything to be like that, you thought, lamenting in the toilet.

You sit in quiet, listening to their conversation. One of the girls rushed to the toilet, and you heard her vomit.

“Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so ‘37,” said one of the Heathers, and based on her tone — such leaderlike— you guessed that was Chandler.

“Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather,” the other Heather suggested.

The one vomiting exhaled loudly before answering. “Yeah, Heather. Maybe I should.”

“Ah, Heather and Heather” oh shit, you gasped, recognizing that voice immediately, “...and Heather. Perhaps you didn’t notice the time with all the vomiting. You’re late for class.”

That bossy voice belonged to Ms Fleming, the second in command when the Headmaster wasn’t around, and also identified as the Herbology Professor. And knowing her, she was about to punish the girls.

Noticing you kept your diary in hands, you took a piece of paper out and scribbled on it.

“Heather wasn’t feeling well. We’re helping her,” H. Chandler told the Professor.

“Not without a hall pass, you’re not,” you could feel Ms Fleming was smiling even though you couldn’t see her. “Week’s detention.”

Done!, you thought before rushing out of the toilet.

“Um, actually, Professor Fleming, all four of us are out on a hall pass. Christmas committee,” you informed, getting out of the toilet, keeping a straight face and handing her the paper.

Professor Fleming took her time to analyze the piece of paper, and you held your breath until she finally returned it to you.

“I see you’re all listed. Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

Heather Chandler was staring at you like you were an abnormal animal she had just discovered, but you couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

“This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?”

“Uh... y/N y/L/N,” you fastly replied. “I crave a boon.”

H. Chandler raised a brow at you as if you made no sense. “What boon?”

“Um, let me sit at your table at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary,” Heather remained silent, so you continued, “if people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone...”

The first Heather to laugh was Chandler, of course, but it didn’t take more than a second for the other two to follow. It was as if they needed Chandler’s permission to laugh.

“Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes,” you added, hoping this would change their view.

Heather Duke widened her eyes, raising her eyebrows at an abnormal height. “How about prescriptions?”

“Shut up, Heather,” H. Chandler’s reprehension came quickly.

“Sorry, Heather,” H. Duke ducked, almost embarrassed.

The three Heathers exchanged a look, planning something. You shivered — your destiny was in their hands, but, unfortunately, that rarely meant a promising one.

Chandler stepped forward, looking you up and down.

“For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure.”

“And you have a symmetrical face,” added Heather McNamara, holding your face with one hand. “If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves. That’s very important.”

Heather Duke frowned her brow.

“Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds,” she was one to talk — always vomiting what she ate.

Heather Chandler pulled the other Heathers away, pulling you by the hand. “And ya know? This could be beautiful,” she seemed to investigate what was lacking on your face. “Mascara, maybe some lip gloss and we’re on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Heather, I need your brush. Let’s make her beautiful.”

McNamara agreed with a smile, but Duke was pretending not to care. She never liked it when Chandler played the helper.

“Okay?” the Gryffindor asked before using the brush on you.

“Okay!” you agreed, a bit too loud.

Heather Chandler took you by the hand out of the bathroom and towards the Gryffindor Tower, with McNamara and Duke following behind. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought it would stop. It was one of your biggest dreams to be with the Heathers, and there you were, walking into Chandler’s room, unable to stop smiling.

She took a long time with your hair — which you didn’t even know needed a makeover. McNamara had the job of applying makeup, and she did it happily.

Heather Duke, however, wasn’t so thrilled to have to get you new uniforms.

“Oh, come on, Heather, just ask the boys — they’ll steal it for you,” said Chandler, rolling her eyes at her best friend.

“Fine,” she sighed before leaving.

According to them, there were more than just the traditional style of uniform, and they’d have lent theirs to you, but since you were a Ravenclaw, they had nothing in your house colour.

Heather Duke appeared half an hour later with the new uniform — all in blue, but so much more fashionable than the one you always used.

You didn’t bother asking from who she stole because that wasn’t the first wrong thing you were doing that day. The first thing was skipping the rest of the classes just to get the proper look.

***

“I reckon we’re ready,” said Heather Chandler, but she didn’t let you look yourself in the mirror. She said it would jinks it. “Now, let’s go. People need to know the new you.”

The new you. They didn’t even know the old you.

As soon as you stepped in the corridors, the whispered started, and this time, they weren’t making fun of you.

“Who’s that with Heather?” you heard someone ask.

The feeling of leaving everyone speechless was something you had never felt before and yet, so good. You and the Heathers stopped at the Courtyard — part of Chandler’s plan of introducing you.

“Y/N?!” you heard from behind and turned only to see Myrtle, holding her book with both hands and her mouth wide open.

She didn’t dare come closer to the Heathers so you could only wave at your friend. She didn’t look bothered, however. She knew once at the dorms, you’d tell her everything.

“You know, we should have found a Ravenclaw before,” said Heather Chandler. “It was the house missing from our group.”

“We were waiting for a girl named Heather though,” remembered the Slytherin Heather.

“Well, yes, but now we’re in our last year. Nobody new is ever coming, Heather,” said Chandler, practically ending the discussion so Duke could say nothing else.

You had never been so close to the Heathers before, so you had no way of knowing, but even though the three of them were at the top of the pyramid, it was H. Chandler who stood at the very top. You’d have to be careful if you wanted to be amongst them more often.

After all, you were a Heather now.

November 14th, 1943:

Dear diary, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels lookin’ like hell on wheels... My God, it’s beautiful! I might be beautiful...

Oh, diary... It’s a beautiful frickin’ day!

[honourablejester]

Kindly forgive a random burst of ego, but I’m reading back through Northern Babylon, a dieselpunk LotR AU I wrote back in 2015, and … okay. I think I did pretty good on the worldbuilding? I mean, looking at it with D&D on the brain for the past year or so, I feel like the city of New Rhovanion would make a pretty good Eberron-ish campaign setting.

A Metropolis-esque dieselpunk fantasy city, built by a semi-forced alliance of elves, men and dwarves driven from their previous homes (Moria, Mirkwood) by the encroaching Southern Powers, some of them very dark (Dol Guldur).

A city of vertical layers, the vast stone-and-ironworks of the dwarves at the base, carved into the stone of the mountain the city rings, the vast transplanted forestscape of the elves at the top, a towerscape of gardens and glasshouses and aqueduct gondolas, and then the homes and markets of men in the lakeside district and the middle heights of the towers.

A city torn apart in recent memory both by the occupation by a dragon in elven disguise which temporarily drove out the dwarven and human inhabitants, and resulted in significant structural and racial damage during the insurrection that followed, and then later the results of a vast continental war that, while it didn’t do too much direct damage to the city besides airstrikes on the elven towers, still left a lot of scars.

A city struggling to rebuild itself, both in terms of buildings and relationships, in the new and sudden peace, where almost all the old enemies have been defeated, and it’s time for old grudges to possibly be laid aside and new cooperation build once again. Possibly.

Like, this bit:

The city had been spared most of the ravages of the war in the south. They'd held off Mordor's advance south of the Running, managing to avoid military occupation, though the Lake District, the still-extant swathes of Mirkwood Forest, and the surface towers of the city itself had taken some damage. The first two had been the cost of stopping the Easterling ground advance, something Gimli knew had a much higher cost in lives, dwarven, elven and human alike, than it had in infrastructure. The latter had been the result of Nazgul airstrikes relatively early in the war, before the Thornhoth Eagles had driven them back south and the land war in Gondor had taken up too much of the Witch-King's attention to bother with anything north of Dol Guldur.

The strikes hadn't done too much serious damage. Not to the structures themselves, at least. New Rhovanion's towers had held strong against dragonfire bombs less than a generation ago, things that could melt rock and steel and concrete as easily as flesh. They'd withstood the explosive anarchy of Smaug's terrorist campaign, when over half the city's dwarven and human populations had been forcibly expelled, and urban fighting in the undercity had killed hundreds more. Nazgul overflights, for all their potency as a terror weapon, just didn't have the same kind of destructive power.

They'd taken chunks out of the city-top forestscape, though. Now that he had the eye for it, Gimli could see the places where it was still under repair. Several of the vast tiered balconies and the street-spanning aqueducts had given way altogether, even now still in the process of being rebuilt, and there were a thousand strange shards of sunlight to be seen as the great glasshouses and refracting mirrors were moved and repaired across the upper city. Worse than that, though, at least for those to whom mattered, were the vast barren stretches where the forests and gardens themselves had been burned away, leaving only cold concrete, melted steel and blacked earth behind them. The great hanging gardens of New Rhovanion, the city-top cathedral of light, had apparently taken the brunt of the city's physical blows this time.

It was strange for Gimli to find himself noticing that, to find himself understanding the pain of it. Dwarves in New Rhovanion didn't spend a lot of time looking upwards, after all. They had their own section of the city to be thinking about, the vast underground mines and thoroughfares, the lower reaches of the towers and the surface streetscapes where the city monorails and the vast ironworks lived. The Ereborean District, carved back into the mountain and the rock beneath the city, its oldest and purest part, was where Gimli had spent so much of his life. It was strange for him to spend so much time looking upward, moving upward.

He'd changed, though. The war had changed him, the things he'd seen, the things Legolas had shown him. He had an idea, now, what that damage meant to the elves of New Rhovanion. He'd seen his elf's face when their train had finally pulled into sight of the city and the scars across its upper reaches had become obvious. He'd seen the blankness that had slipped into Legolas' eyes.

And somehow, because of it, here he was. Gimli Glóinson, an Ereborean dwarf born and bred, standing on a balcony on the side of the Greenwood Oropherion Tower, trying desperately not to think about how many hundreds of feet too high into the air he was. Below him, down at street level and just above it, the great central depot of the Iron Rail Company spewed trains out onto the raised tracks above Oakenshield Avenue, and lighter engines onto the magnetic monorails a few storeys above them. With the repaired mirrors on the upper reaches of the tower filling the street canyon with light almost all the way to the bottom, it was terrifyingly obvious exactly how many feet above that familiar sight he now was.

It wasn't the same, the heights compared to the depths. He'd looked into chasms hundreds of feet deep in Khazad-dûm without a qualm, the great bridge spans of the subterranean Dwarrowdelf inspiring more awe in him than terror. That had been no less of a fall. With the artificial electric suns, no less visible a one either. He knew that. It was just ... it was different up here. It was different on the surface, on one of the tallest towers in New Rhovanion, on some flimsy elven balcony that had blasted tree roots sticking out of the bottom of it. He could see half the city from here. More to the point, he could see how it was all beneath him.

He should have stayed inside, he thought desperately. He should have kept to the interior atrium. The balconies and rooftops and external terraces were the realms of the elves, but the towers that bore them all up were still dwarven construction. The internal shafts, insulated from the sheer external drop and lit exclusively by light refracted from above, had managed to stay comfortably subterranean in feel despite the best efforts of their human and elven occupants. Even the Greenwood Oropherion, the great bastion of Wilderland Elvendom, full of light and water and greenery and with as much of the exterior reaches open to the elements as elvenly possible, hadn't been able to disguise the solid, quintessentially dwarven nature of the stone it was built in.

Like. I feel like I did good there? I feel like that has teeth and potential. Heh. A dieselpunk fantasy city, with a lot of wars behind it, and a tentatively hopeful future.

And this little description of High Elven Councillor Thranduil:

He'd seen Thranduil Oropherion before, of course. Mostly in newsreels, but from a distance as well. The Elven High Councillor had a talent for being seen looking imperiously downwards from various heights, and had a particular fondness for the skycars and the aqueduct gondolas. He was easily recognisable, wearing those long, almost archaic greatcoats the elves favoured, all bronze and green, with his long golden hair bizarrely braided back with something that looked for all the world like live ivy. Even the most deep dwelling, surface-averse dwarves could recognise Thranduil on sight.

He looked a little different now. Some of it was the informality of his dress. Gimli was almost positive that few, if any, dwarves had ever seen the Elven Councillor in shirtsleeves and waistcoat before, his hair looped back into a tail that was, yes, held with an actual trailing plant, for reasons probably only an elf would know. It made him look smaller, somehow, maybe a little bit more fragile. Not quite the distant, impressive creature he usually appeared.

Why do I have so much more fun with worldbuilding and characters than I do with things like, you know, actual plot?