#Ebb is a badass

[leithillustration]

The Vampire Knight and The Chivalrous Dragon

Rating: M

Words: 3,493

Chapters: 1 of maybe 3

Sneaking in just before the deadline for @carryon-reverse-bang 2023, I’m so so thrilled to present my artwork and the accompanying first chapter of The Vampire Knight and the Chivalrous Dragon written by the talented @scribble-tier.

My idea was based around the English legend of St George and the dragon- an excuse to live out my dreams of putting Baz into shiny armour to match his glossy hair. Jude ran with it and is giving us a slow burn fic filled with class division, familial obligation and sword fights!

The artwork is only half of the original image I’d intended to create, so the final full piece will be released later on, accompanying whichever chapter feels most appropriate. I can’t wait for you to see the full thing and I’m so excited to read the rest of this story. Thank you @scribble-tier for picking my prompt, it’s been great working with you (: Hope you all enjoy!

Summary:

Basilton Grimm-Pitch is set to be a knight of legend and renown, with a powerful bloodline and training like very few knights before him. But when he's tasked to slay the beast setting fire to the kingdom, he grapples with how to decline without tarnishing his image or going up in flames himself.

And then Simon Snow is one of the missing.

(Tags under the cut)

Big thanks to the lovely supportive folks in the CORB discord, sorry if I’ve missed tagging you, I am terrible at this stuff and have no idea what I’m doing 98% of the time 😅

@artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla @knitbelove-draws @rimeswithpurple @larkral @melodysmash @youarenevertooold @alexalexinii @katatsumuli @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @iamamythologicalcreature @squidamalink

[luveline]

Heyyyy can you do a Hotch x reader where readers just kinda been down all day but doesn’t wanna tell Hotch because she’s kinda used to being the badass with all her walls up? And hotch kinda pulls her to the side and forces it out of her 😊😊

thank you for requesting!! fem, 1.2k

Hotch has dark hair. He’s an older guy but he’s yet to grey, hair like the strands are soaked with coal pitch, even darker under the office lights. He braces his hand on the desk and ducks toward Spencer’s computer screen, pointing at a corner with patience. 

“This one,” Hotch says. 

“Why would they organise it like this?” Spencer asks, his voice bordering incredulous. 

“I’m not sure. You’ll remember where this is?” 

“Do you usually have to tell me more than once?” Spencer says lightly. 

“Ask your licence to carry.” 

You’d laugh, his wit quick and poor Spencer a good sport, but your head feels heavy with a forming upset. Like your mind has turned to thick porridge. You woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but you don’t feel angry, more magnificently empty. Nothing is touching beyond your surface level. 

“Thank you, sir,” Spencer says. 

You ignore the weight of a gaze on you while you click through your emails, prioritising what needs to be answered before the end of the day, the end of the week, and the end of the month as Hotch taught you to. You double click an email chain from a consult you’d been assigned from out of state and reread your response, nervous that your lack of confidence today might have shone through blunt wording. Hotch is looped into the chain —he can correct any glaring errors should you have made them. 

“Hey,” Hotch says when you don’t look up. He doesn’t use your name, and he doesn’t need to. “I’d like to talk to you. Let’s go up to my office.” 

“Can I have a half hour to work through my emails?” you ask apologetically.

“I’d prefer we talk now. Any overdue reply can be blamed on me,” he says. 

The way he talks is natural to him but perhaps strange if it were another person, with another disposition. You know Hotch to be both gentle and stern at once. His tone leaves little room for debate, but it reassures you to hear the measured cadence of each word without rush. The openness of his expression is similarly comforting, and though he doesn’t know it —you would never own up to feeling this way, verbally or physically— you’d quite like to be comforted by him. Even if he takes you to the office to reprimand you, you’ll at least have been near him for long enough to forget your odd aching. 

Hotch doesn’t walk until you do, taking each step by side until he gets to the office, where he opens the door to encourage you in. 

You drift a few feet inward, shoes soft on clean, crisp carpeting. Hotch closes the door, where he stands momentarily, silence held.

“Everything okay?” you ask. 

Hotch pulls out one of the two black chairs in front of his desk and gestures for you to sit. “Everything’s okay,” he says, standing back to give you space to sit, his hand moving to rest on the back of the chair as you sit. It whines as you shift to see him. “With me, everything’s okay. How about you?” 

“Everything’s fine with me.” 

You’d pad your explanation out if you didn’t think he was about to tell you what you’re in the brig for. No one likes a nervous Nelly. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

You glance at his hand behind you and he moves it swiftly. “Hotch?” you ask tentatively. 

“I’ve noticed you aren’t yourself today.” 

“I’m completely myself.” 

“It’s not like you to stare into space.” He frowns. “I want to sit down because I don’t like towering over you, but I don’t want you to internalise this as a meeting.” 

“You’re not towering over me, Hotch.

His frown doesn’t ebb. “…We each have our own unique levy to carry the weight of, I know that. But it’s not… nice, to see you like this. I’d like to know what’s wrong.” 

Again, no nonsense and reassuring at once. 

Maybe he is towering a little. You avert your gaze from his, feeling uncharacteristically meek for a weak moment. 

“I think I woke up mixed up,” you confess eventually, picking at a stray thread on your skirt until the tips of your fingers burn. “Like, nothing happened to upset me, but I…” 

“You do feel upset.” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“You’re not sure why?” 

“Not really. I think that–” You lick your lips nervously, not finding the right words, wanting to be vulnerable and simultaneously reluctant to show him anything he might not like. “I think it’s lots of smaller things and they’re layering on top of each other. Do you get that?” 

“All the time. Though usually my way of dealing with it is less pleasant for others.” He looks down at you steadily. “And yours,” —he aims enough fondness at you to stop your heart— “is self-contained. But I don't want you to think you’re walking through life unseen.” 

“Unseen,” you repeat. 

He stands very still. “Can I touch your face?” he asks quietly. 

You don’t know why he’d ask, but you say, “Yes, please.” 

“Please,” he says. You’re repeating each other. The air in the room feels thicker as he lifts his hand to your cheek and cups it gently. “When you’re upset, I notice. I can’t help but notice.” Your face lists into his palm slowly, worried he’ll move, but he holds you and he watches you with care. “Is there anything I can do to make it all feel better?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

He rubs your cheek with his thumb. “No?” 

You close your eyes. “No,” you say, matching his volume. 

“I don’t know what to do now,” he murmurs. 

“Sorry, I’m okay,” you say, asking yourself to move away from his touch, but unable to force it, “I’m gonna…” 

It’s a boundary crossed, but you and Hotch are good at that. He’s constantly treating you with more sweetness than a boss should show toward his employee, and you eat it up despite every instinct in you that says you shouldn’t. So you won’t tell him you’ve had a bad day until he asks, and even then, you have nothing permanent to offer him for fixing, and still he’ll hold your face and make it feel ordinary. Like he’s touched you a hundred times, something about it feels right, and real. Your cheek feels softer under his tracing thumb. You could fall asleep in his hands. 

“How can I make you feel better?” he asks again. 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“But what can I do?” 

You want to ask for a hug, but even the idea of it is too much to think about. Miss Independent admitting she needs more than this? When it’s already more than you should have? 

Profilers profile, and somehow you give yourself away. 

“Come on,” he says softly. 

He hugs you. His hand falls from your face to your shoulder, wrapping behind it, encompassing you in a strong arm as he bends down to embrace you fully. 

“I wish you’d ask for more,” he says, his free arm slinking between your arm and side, hand to your back, encouraging you to hug him back. 

You don’t know what to do with your arms. Each movement feels stilted, but Hotch makes up for it. He hugs you without inhibition, like he’s wanted to do it for a long, long time. 

[heroesrest64]

Haunting Heroes

Other parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter 11: The Shadow

Chapter summary: (Honestly this is more of a transitional chapter? Not a lot to say abt it)

You can read the chapter here on ao3

“Ew… Is that, like, natural?” You feel like you have to ask, backing away from the monster and the pool of black blood beneath it. You shouldn’t have messed around with him in the first place, but you couldn’t resist wanting to look badass over the things corpse.

“No.” Sky hisses, brows furrowed in a frown, and you tilt your head at him curiously.

“When monsters have black blood like that, it means they’re empowered by the shadow.” Warriors explains, and you’re more or less following along until he brings up the shadow. What the heck is that?

“What’s the Shadow?” You ask, beginning to walk away from the monster. Your eyes catch on a ruby tipped staff, and you rush to pick it up, not wanting to risk losing Legend’s anchor in all of this chaos.

“The thing that killed us.” Wars grumbles, and you stumble, barely catching yourself before whipping around to give him a surprised look.

“What??” You practically screech, and the boys flinch back. The thing that killed them is still alive?!

“Technically no one killed it…” Wind trails off, giving the other heroes a look that seemed to say ‘it makes sense it’s still around’.

“Even if no one killed it, wouldn’t it have died of old age or something?” You suggest, and there are a few shifty gazes, everyone clearly uncomfortable with the topic. You can only assume that, no, whatever killed them was not capable of dying of old age.

Was it a god or something? You didn’t want to think of the ramifications of that thought.

“Look, I think we’ve all had enough fun for one day. Why don’t we head back home for now and we can talk about the Shadow some other time.” Warriors sighs, rubbing his forehead with his thumb, easing away the tension there. As much as you want to fight them and dig for more information, you have to agree that it isn’t the time or place to start questioning the ghostly heroes surrounding you. Glancing around, you notice a few of the people who were originally enjoying the ren faire and even a few store vendors are slowly trickling back in, curiously glancing around at the monster corpses littering the ground. The last thing you need right now is to be questioned about how so many monsters fell while you managed to get away with some minor cuts and bruises.

“This is gonna hurt like hell in the morning, isn’t it?” You grumble, rubbing your stomach lightly as a deep ache begins to build up there. A few of your friends mumble their sympathies while you begin making the trek back to your car.

~~

“Wake up~ I think you’ll want to see this!” Wind giggles happily above your head and you groan, covering your face from the encroaching light trying to blind you, only to hiss as every muscle in your arm seizes in a cramp that sends you careening off your couch and onto the floor. Metal and wood clang on the floor around you, and you realize you passed out on the couch, still decked out in your friends’ anchors the night before.

“Wind? Why’re you waking me up so early?” You mumble, pinching your arm where the cramp hurts the worst until the blinding pain slowly ebbs away.

“Time is back! I thought you’d want to see him.” The kid grins, reaching out for you as if to pull you up, only for his hand to go through your body. He frowns for only a second before backing up, allowing you to stumble into a standing position and follow after him towards your office.

You’re still decked out in Warriors’ cape and Wild’s sheikah slate is pinned to your belt, but it looks like most of the other anchors got shaken off sometime while you were sleeping. Either way, you mumble some general greetings to the ghosts who eagerly await your entrance, all hovering around a sparkling blue ocarina perched upon a bookshelf. You suppose that’s Time’s anchor.

“Any warnings before I pick it up?” You ask, and Warriors glances off to the side.

“He’s… Well, he’s kind of beat up all around. The shadow really took his time with him. It’s hard to explain.” Warriors bites his lower lip, but you nod in understanding. Whatever might’ve happened to the Hero of Time, it must’ve been pretty bad, but you need to meet him regardless.

Picking up the ocarina, you turn around and meet the same man you saw in the woods all that time ago. It feels like it’s been months, even years since that day, but in reality, it’s been a short four days. Goddesses, what is your life coming to?

Time is covered in blood and mud, the substances smeared so much it's hard to tell where one liquid ends and the other begins. He still has all of his limbs, but they’re bent at odd angles, in a way that makes bile rise in your throat that you struggle to swallow down. Despite all of his injuries, though, he has an almost youthful look to him, and he smiles at you like you’re an old friend.

“There you are, old man.” You laugh, wiping some tears out of the corner of your eyes as you rush forward to wrap him in a hug. Of course, just as always, there’s no substance to it, but you can still feel a brush of warmth as Time wraps his arms around you in turn.

“Sorry I took so long. I guess that time slip took more out of me than I initially thought. ANd now I hear you’ve fought monsters and have even gained the ability to see the dead during my absence.” Time laughs, setting his hands on your shoulders before throwing an occurring look at the open air beside you. “If I’d known Hyrule had such a useful potion, I would’ve suggested making it earlier and we could’ve avoided this whole confusing situation.”

“To be fair, I doubt I would've gone along with making such a strange potion before the whole time slip thing. I was so desperate for answers afterwards I kind of just did whatever.” You admit, rubbing the back of your neck before stepping back from the man.

“I didn’t realize my actions would leave you in such a state. I apologize, however, at the time, that was the only way I could think to warn you of what was to come.”

“Speaking of, you didn’t leave any of us with much information on that front, either. What were you warning them about? And why were you in such a rush about it that you couldn’t even explain it to us before taking action?” Warriors steps forward, curious.

“My original intention was to send them to the day of the ambush. I needed them to know about the Shadow, because something in my soul told me that it would be approaching, and that they would play a key role in the upcoming confrontation. Unfortunately, in my rush to warn them, I brought us both into a time slip, and what’s worse, it wasn’t even the intended day. I lost control quickly after that, and lost my form for a while. I’m glad to see that it wasn’t all for nothing. You all worked together, and now our friend has the ability to see and speak to us. What’s more, they fought against monsters and won.”

“Barely. Twilight had to intervene.” Wild huffs, before seeing the uncomfortable look on your face at his comment. “That’s not your fault, though. It’s not your job to fight monsters or anything like that. We should’ve… We should be able to protect you. We would be able to if we weren’t… like this.” Wild sighs, roughly dragging his hand through his hair.

“It’s not your fault you died. I’m just glad we all made it out of that fight mostly okay.” You mumble, and Wild nods.

“Time came back fine, even if it took a while. I’m sure Twilight’ll be back the same as the old man in no time.” Wind assures, smiling up at Wild. The older man ruffles the kids hair before focusing back on the topic at hand.

“The young one is right. Twilight will be back soon, but in the meantime, we mustn't slack off. You are in danger right now, with no real knowledge on how to protect yourself. The shadow has yet to appear, but that does not mean he won’t in the near future. You must prepare, or you may meet the same fate as the rest of us.” Time warns, and you nod resolutely. The thing that killed these heroes now seems to be after you, and you’ll need to do everything in your power to protect yourself.

~~

“You want to know if I own a gun??” Carrie asks, incredulous as you lean on the edge of her desk. You approached her nice and casual- just another monday at work.

“With all of the monster sightings lately, it wouldn’t hurt to get some extra protection.” You smile innocently, and the blonde haired woman squints at you before seeming to lighten up.

“You actually came to the right place, my strange, staff-bearing friend.” Carrie assures, and you glance at the fire rod on your back. The boys all insisted you bring a couple of them with you when you leave the house, and especially insisted on bringing a weapon like the fire rod or master sword, even if you thought it would make you look odd.

“I have quite the collection of firearms. You know, I got an honorable discharge after taking an arrow to the knee, but guns still hold a special place in my heart.” Carrie sighs dreamily, and your brain stutters to a halt. No you did not know that Carrie was part of the military. What sort of a lore drop is this??

“Anyway~ Stop by anytime and I’ve got a semi-auto hellcat with your name on it.” Carrie winks before spinning her chair to face back towards her computer. You honestly didn’t expect that to be so easy- at most, you thought she’d spout off nonsense about grabbing an airsoft from Walmart or something.

“Your friend is wierd.” Legend mumbles from over your shoulder, and you nod in agreement, completely missing the strange looks your other coworkers squint your way as you seemingly talk to yourself the entire walk back to your cubicle.

[kiratastic]

A warm welcome to you, Azira! (Or rather Az 😉)

The colour combination of Az is of course exactly the opposite of Sol, colours of the moon to be precise 😁

Az was given the gift of manipulation. Just as the moon influences the ebb and flow and the emotions of people, Az can also manipulate them. In hell he has been given a feared title and is usually referred to as the Dark Moon.

Sera is his link between heaven, earth and hell, Sera can go behind the mirrors into the realm of the deceased who are trapped in the intermediate world of heaven and hell. Only Az and Sera can see them and talk to them.

Az is quite mysterious, he is rather quiet and doesn't talk much, he is cold and reserved towards others but not towards Sol. He likes to bury his nose in books or in Sol's hair 😁

About the eyes: He has more or less completely adopted the slit shape, he dilates his pupils more when he wants to see the deceased.

Az can turn into an owl, he is then simply completely black, basically the opposite of his owl Sera 😁

Since the moon goes under the element of water, water is definitely his element. As Az always says so beautifully: "Humans are made of 80% water, of course they are very easy to manipulate."

Az has two weak points, the new moon and Sol. When the moon is full, his gift is in full splendour and when the moon is new, he is very weak. Az annoys himself that he is incapable of doing anything once a month - it's a good thing that nobody knows this except Sol.

Az hates hugs, but that's because of his fall into hell, so I'll do another comic about that at some point. I want to make a separate storyline about my Eclipse Omens.

Thanks to Sol, this hugging hatred is disappearing more and more and he can let it go better and better.

Sol doesn't have many nicknames for his favourite, he just calls Az Az or Honey. Sol likes it more to be showered with nicknames by Az 😝

Of the two, Sol is more of a connoisseur, which makes our Az the badass gentleman, badass to other gentleman to Sol 🥰

@goodomensafterdark

[alynnia]

I'm trying not to be excited for Sylus' birthday and the rumored main story content but I can't help it. My mind is buzzing. I want more dragon Sylus specifically but I also want badass people-exploding Sylus too. I want to see him fight again. 😩

The other branch stories for the guys relate to their myths and anecdotes, and we saw them all at a weak point, will Sylus' branch be about his dragon past or his space pirates days? Are we gonna find out more about the Eye of Aether? Are the space police gonna get him and we have to escape or break him out of jail? Is MC going to actually almost kill him? Does his dragon side come out and MC sees it for the first time? Can we get a Bond story like Ebb and Flow but dragon flavored? Can we see the twins faces and scar? Is Mephisto the true mastermind? Are gonna see Mr. P? Is it all going to be a nothing burger? Am I getting my hopes up too high? Yes, probably BUT STILL

[lotusloong]

Hi, me again. I'm just curious, when/why did you first get into Monkey King? I'd been aware of him for while (I kinda knew who he was, where he came from, that he inspired certain other characters like Goku in DBZ and Saiyuki and stuff) but only started learning more about him recently after I watched Monkey King: Hero is Back and fell in love. I watched an entire playthrough of Black Myth Wukong and, even though I had no idea what was happening storywise, absolutely loved every minute of it! Since then, I've gotten more familiar with the characters and story of Journey to the West, and devoured the three live-action movies, the Netflix movie, Monkey King: Reborn, New Gods: Nezha Reborn, and the Lego Monkie Kid series. I can't get enough of this guy! He's such a lovable little gremlin. I think my fav versions are Hero is Back Wukong and the Destined One.

...Okay now I'm going back to hide in my corner for realsies this time lol (sorry I'm shy)

I am so happy to get asks like this, thank you for fighting thru your shyness to send them!! Fair warning, I do get rambly (I'm an AuDHD writer, it's very hard for me to turn off my info dumping lolol) 

First off again, I really really do appreciate getting asks like this!! I put my writing and silly ideas up because I want to interact with other fans!! Sadly within the past few years interaction with fan works has depleted, and so it does make it a struggle to keep up with the creative process. (I've honestly been feeling like I'm speaking into the void sometimes when I post my Wukong stuff. The thing that keeps me going and writing is the few individuals who consistently interact with me with their own ideas and comments. Other people's ideas fuel my ideas, so if you or anyone else has a thought they want to share I will love to hear it and respond to it.) With that said, on to my past!!!

Now, I've always been a massive fan of mythology, and I hyperfixated on Greek myth for years (like, this year is my 16th anniversary kind of hyperfixation). And I always told myself that at some point I would branch off into other mythologies. 

I had always felt a connection with Daoism and Buddism because a lot of the philosophies made sense to me. I'm a zoologist, part of my job is teaching people at my city's science museum about nature and animals. A lot of Daoist philosophies are based on the ebb and flow of nature, but I just never found anything that actually hooked me to get me obsessed with it. It was more like a passing appreciation for what it represents and the ideals it holds. 

Now complete subject change, I love FromSoft souls games. Up until Wukong, I would write for other fandoms, and get a couple fics in before moving on (and even then it's not a lot. Wukong just…does something to my brain to get me writing) but I adore FromSoft games. I love the combat (I don't think I'm like…competitively good but I can beat the bosses and I have some decent skill) and I especially love the lore. Those games are so rich in lore, I adore it!! About gods and monsters and magic practices, all amazing! 

And back in February, a YouTuber I watch for mythology content did a whole video on Black Myth Wukong, explaining the lore of the different bosses. I was bored and hadn't heard anything about the game before, so I clicked it. 

I had my mind fucking blown.

That intro to the game? Sucked me in like nothing else. I didn't even get 5 minutes into the video before I was exiting out and looking up how much the game cost and everything I could to learn about it. 

Who was this sexy demon guy in gold armor flying on a cloud with this gorgeous music playing in the background? Holy shit this sexy demon guy is challenging a celestial army, he's so badass! Who is he!?!

I stayed up all night learning everything I could about Journey to the West. I bought the books that same night, I bought the game and started playing, I started looking up movies and shows, everything. 

And then it hit me, “oh wait, I know who the Monkey King is! I heard that name before!!” And I realized how many things this god had influenced! Characters from all different types of shows and movies and games, all with nods to this story!!

I think my first real moment of being aware of Wukong was actually from the game Persona 5, funny enough. I was never big on anime (believe me, I've tried. Never could get into it) but I did like the Persona 5 game, I liked the art style and story telling. Now for those who haven't played this game, there is a character named Ryuji, who is my fav character.

Ryuji is a brash ball of sunshine who's labeled as a delinquent and constantly looked down upon by the adults in his life because he tried to do the right thing and got fucked over by an adult who was supposed to help him, but instead abused him. He has a Persona (his personality/heart given magical form, essentially) that started out as a pirate based on Captain Kidd. When you level his friendship up enough, his Persona evolves into - you guessed it - Sun Wukong. A pretty funky looking design but I thought it was still fun and kooky and it was the Persona of my fav character from the game, so I was going to like it no matter what. That is technically my first introduction to Sun Wukong 🤣🤣🤣

Since I've gotten Black Myth Wukong and the OG Books, I've been devouring content for Wukong wherever I can get it. I haven't watched the live action movies yet, but I've been watching the 1986 show 💖💖 I want to watch Havoc on Heaven but haven't found a decent quality with Chinese VAs and English translations sadly…

But I've watched all the other animated movies I believe, and I haven't caught up on Lego Monkie Kid (I have…mixed opinions on it) but I just love Wukong in any form!! I have been asked before what my fav version is and I'm gonna give the same answer I did then, I like all of them for different reasons. They all have their charm and flaws and funny moments that make me fall in love with them 💖💖💖

I really really hope to see more of him in the future, especially Hero is Back!! Nezha and Nezha 2 are the highest grossing movies, could you imagine if the same director and writing team did another movie focusing on Dasheng!?! I would die!! Not to mention whispers of Black Myth dlc this year!!! I want all the content I can get on our beloved monkey husband, I love him so much 💖🐒💖🐒💖🐒

[alizibtheterrible]

SLEDGES BABIES THIS IS NOT A DRILL

(adding them to The Collective™️ simply because I can, more info under the cut)

Ebb (the oldest): Ebb is the biggest and the oldest. Her tusks and hair have already started to grow in and are more prominent than her siblings. She’s very calm and likes to sleep. She also enjoys eating anything in sight… Ebb really doesn’t have a preference to any person in particular. She does tend to stay around Finn and Quinn more however.

Flash (second oldest): The only brother of the group. He’s a gremlin. He throws his weight around, especially with O’Hara, and occasionally gets put in his place. He’s the fastest which earned him the name of “Flash.” He dislikes being pet but regularly makes exceptions for Kaida, who he favors. He mimics Kaida’s behavior, even going so far to butt Jenna’s leg sometimes (bro really thinks he’s badass)

Huracan (Second youngest): Huracan is incredibly curious and agile. She regularly gets stuck at the top of cabinets, an occurrence that baffles everyone. Huracan will accept pets from everyone, she does not discriminate. She likes to be around Sparky, since he’s kind of the unofficial mediator for the piglets. Huracan also likes to be around Noah, Tessa, and Fynn since they’re more likely to give her food.

O’Hara (youngest): The runt of the litter. Being the smallest, her tusks have barely grown in. She and Flash wrestle a lot, but she loses most of the time (jokes on him, she ends up being bigger than he is). She’s fairly shy and prefers to be around her mother than humans. O’Hara has a fondness for Ethan though (youngest sibling bonding fr).

@rainofthetwilight @sharksandjays @weekend-whip @finn-m-corvex @officercooks @taddymason

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #689

Top Ten IMF Agents in Mission: Impossible

So this week I went to a special preview screening of Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, and it was good. And so – what with the film going on general release next week, I’ve decided to dedicate this Top Ten to what must now rank as one of the most storied action franchises in cinema history. Amazingly, I’ve only ever talked about Mission once before! Fancy that.

Y’know what, let’s just park it for a minute and consider Mission. Because at this point, the franchise is just shy of thirty years old; old Tom Cruise has been running very fast in pretty locations for three decades now. That’s a fair old chunk of time. Does it carry the same weight and cachet as Bond? Or even Bourne? Because, I’ll be honest with you, I can’t think of a single straight-up action franchise that’s got as high a hit rate as Mission. Apart from numbers 2 (muddled, overlong) and III (slight, inconsistent) I’d strongly argue that every entry is legitimately great. Like, four-stars-at-least great. I think there are at least two proper five-star classics here. From one franchise, starring the same guy every time, with half the films helmed by the same director too. I think the overall quality output is frankly astonishing, and yet I’m not really sure it’s held in quite the regard as other action series. Or maybe it is? Or does Tom Cruise just remains a slightly complicated and somewhat problematic, prickly star, equal parts cool and cringe? I dunno. What do you want from me, analysis?

I will say none of them are as good as Die Hard, but hardly anything ever is.

Anyway, one of the things I love about the franchise – and I’ll be honest, it ebbs and flows as a component – is the supporting cast. The first few films seemed to find Tom’s team interchangeable, but eventually they settled on more-or-less a core ensemble, with some big changes causing equally big ripples. I think the films are at their best when they’re more of a team effort: Final Reckoning, for me, doesn’t hit the heights of Fallout because it separates the team for much of the runtime. Despite the franchise evolving into essentially a superhero espionage fable anchored by Ethan Hunt, the fact that Hunt is technically part of a team is really the secret sauce that separates it from other spy films. Well, that and when he runs really fast or gets up on top of tall stuff.

But who are the best of IMF-ers? Well, that’s what this list is all about. So I guess if you just shut up and pay attention you’ll find out. This message will self destruct, etc…

Luthor Stickell (Ving Rhames): the beating heart of Hunt’s team. He’s larger than life and gregarious, but he’s also the most truthful, the most open, the most emotionally intelligent. He’s also really smart and capable, a super tech genius that puts even Benji to shame. And he really is Ethan’s brother. Plus, let’s not beat around the bush, he’s Ving chuffing Rhames.

Ilsa Faust (Rebecca Ferguson): she’s a dark and mysterious assassin-adjacent figure; a more morally compromised spy than Ethan. But Ferguson fills her with nuance and shade, and her complicated relationship with Ethan is the engine that powers the more recent films. She’s just a badass, basically.

Eugene Kittridge (Henry Czerny): now, some of these I’m a bit hazy on their IMF-ness. He seems to be Ethan’s boss in the first film, but has graduated into director of the CIA. Whilst ostensibly on the same side as Ethan, he’s basically a kind of rule-following antagonist. However, he earns his place just because there are few actors better at delivering cod-philosophical dialogue in such gravitas-laden whispers. I want him narrating every film from now on. That’s the pattern, isn’t it?

Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg): if Luther is Ethan’s big brother, Benji is the kid brother; a more naive, clumsier, goofier tech genius, but one whose heart is very close to the surface. Emerging initially as the comic relief – a funny British nerd to bounce off against Ethan’s slick American cool – he slowly grew into a fully rounded character, a worthy member of the team, but keeping the same daft charm he always had.

Grace (Hayley Atwell): she’s fairly new so hasn’t had as much time to develop, but in Dead Reckoning he shows both a formidable set of skills as a pickpocket and confidence woman, as well as a healthy fear of Ethan’s antics. As well as Atwell’s natural charisma, she also gives Grace a delightfully unusual scepticism; she really doesn’t want to be part of the madness.

Paris (Pom Klementieff): emerging initially as a villain – and quite a nasty one, really – she’s a woman of few words, and all of those are in French. She’s got an ace sense of style and some badass moves; her fight scenes are terrific. But mostly she’s just a vessel for Klementieff’s bottomless charisma.

Franz Krieger (Jean Reno): yeah, so he’s a villain; a proper, unrelenting villain. But for most of the movie he’s part of Ethan’s team, just like Luther. Do we trust him? Do we buggery, but what he is, is cool. He’s a cold and cool little fella, and he’s definitely got a thing about rats, but he exudes a kind of kickass European-ness. That’s mostly Reno, to be honest.

Alan Hunley (Alec Baldwin): if Czerny has the best voice in the franchise, Baldwin is the second. He’s great as the antagonist bastard in Rogue Nation, trying to shut down the IMF for good; as the director in Fallout, he’s even better, on the inside helping Ethan. He gets to utter the immortal line about Ethan being “the living manifestation of destiny” – which I think we can all agree is both super-cool and slightly nonsensical.

Sean Ambrose (Dougray Scott): again, a baddie; the big bad of the second film, in fact. But he’s definitely an IMF agent! He’s a rogue IMF agent! Mission 2 has a number of faults, and arguably one of them is that Ambrose is a slightly weak villain; but I like the fact that he’s a rather pathetic, needy little shit. He’s never cool, he never seems much of a threat, but he’s always a captivating presence.

Jack Harmon (Emilio Estevez): propping up the list only because of his drastically reduced screen time, the tech expert (techspert?) on Ethan’s first team is full of cheesy charm. “Hasta lasagne, don’t get any on ya,” anybody? But not only is he a friendly and charming guy, he also gives Ethan Chekov’s chewing gum. And dies horribly! Spoiler alert, I guess. It was thirty years ago, though.

Obviously I didn't include Ethan Hunt on this list. That's on purpose. He was off hanging upside down from something at the time.

[hattiestgal]

What was your favorite mission in Armored Core 6?

DEFEND THE OLD SPACEPORT BABEY (Pretty big game spoilers ahead!)

Listen, this whole mission is built up to be this big last stand against a massive PCA fleet fighting all or nothing, so of course you go into it thinking "Oh this is the big one I'm gonna have to fight for my life out here" only to arrive at an already finished battle, the ruins of mechs and warships and other machinery violently scattered around, as if something just rampaged through here with no intent of taking any survivors

After a short while scanning this rugged battlefield, you find the single AC responsible for the complete carnage. NIGHTFALL. And it's piloted by Raven. The REAL Raven. The only reason they tore the place the hell up is because they were looking for you. To see if you could live up to the name that callsign carries. To see just how far you flew on borrowed wings.

Some of my favorite parts about NIGHTFALL are its assembly, which is almost straight default with a new head and weapons, and how proficiently Raven pilots it. This is one of the most brutal AC fights if you aren't used to the ebb and flow of 1 on 1 combat. Even then, keeping up with NIGHTFALL requires really good energy management (I find myself out of EN by the time I can properly punish them like half the time). The fight is certainly a trip, and Raven is an absolute badass!

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

Bring Down the Xylem, The fight against Walter is not only surprisingly tough but really heart-wrenching, too. I have a whole tangent I could go on about that. but I need to keep this part short.

Unknown Territory Survey, AUGHHHH THEY MADE ME FIGHT MY HUSBAND jokes aside, it's a really solid "Hey, what are YOU like actually doing here apart from getting money to effectively unlobotomize yourself" Like clearly you're working towards some goal Walter isn't telling you about, and Rusty calls that into question real fast. It's good stuff

[angelmichelangelo]

Maybe 2012 Mikey being badass? (i've got nothing else lmao)

x

Like most things in his life, being the klutz of his family, he discovers it by entire accident.

Raph and April are out front on the front lawn, training together, a newfound activity that the pair of them have taken to, now that Raph’s number one spar partner was currently unconscious in the tub upstairs.

Mikey’s stomach clinches at the thought. It’s something he often tries to forget these days. Wind whistles past him and he looks up from his spot on the porch, huddling down into his oversized hoodie, he feels some of that unease surrounding his chest start to ebb away. 

At least Raphael was outside, doing something other than just brooding in silence. Casey had even managed to get some dinner down him last night so… maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

With Donnie on constant lookout for Leo, Mikey supposed he was on a similar kind of duty with Raph. The turtle and the girl twirl around each other, unphased by the new year chill that hangs in the air still.

Mikey taps the end of his pencil against the sketchpad. So far it was full of just quick warm up sketches that he’d done through the morning so far. One of the stretch of trees over on the horizon. A frog. One of April standing from afar during her own warm up with Raph.

He taps at the paper, little residuales of pencil shavings bouncing with it when—

“Shit!”

That’s Raph’s voice, sharp and worried that has Mike snapping his head up so fast like rubber.

He’s crouched down beside April who’s now laying in the grass, one leg stretched out, she’s grasping at her ankle, and even from here, Mikey can make out the fresh glimmer of tears she’s stubbornly holding back behind her eyes.

He pushes his sketchpad and pencil aside onto the step as he leaps up, running over to meet them.

“It’s fine,” April tells him straight away before he even has a chance. Raph’s hands are awkwardly hovering over the ankle she’s still grasping at. “Just rolled it funny.”

There’s a little bite to her words that tells him that there was nothing funny about it.

Mikey huffs, crouching down beside her, he offers her a lopsided smile when he tells her.

“Apes, I’ve had a fair share of rolled ankles in my time.” He gently pries her hands away to inspect the damage. “It still hurts like shell.”

It’s swollen already, probably nothing too serious but Raph’s face pales anyway. He never was any good with anything remotely medical. Mikey remembers when they were kids, he couldn’t even watch E.T because of that one particular scene in the med bay tents.

“I’ll go get Don,” is what he tells him, already springing to his feet and making a dash towards the house. 

April sucks in a breath. Now it’s like she’s really trying not to cry and Mikey can’t help but feel bad for her. 

“Here,” he says, gently wrapping his hand around her injured ankle. “I’ve been told I have warm hands. It might help.”

She flinches at first, with the sudden contact, but after a while she relaxes, no longer fisting tight handfuls of grass beneath her palm, even the glossy tears in her eyes seem to sink away.

She blinks. “It.” She says suddenly, stopping short like she lost the thread of her own sentence. “Mike. You’re—”

She’s cut off by the sound of running feet. Two pairs of running feet exactly because Raphael rejoins them with Donnie in tow. He’s got his little med kit with him (that still has the Mikey Do Not Touch sticker that’s slowly starting to peel away on the front) and when he sits beside her, he’s looking breathless and tired.

“Hey,” he says. “Can I look?”

April sniffs. She shakes her head to scoot her bangs from out of her eyes. “It’s not that bad,” she tells him. She inches her leg upwards. “See. I can move it now, really.”

Mikey’s hand stays firmly in place and… and he knew he was being trivial when he said about having warm hands but… but suddenly the skin of his palm that’s touching against hers feels very very hot.

He pulls it away when Raph squeaks in surprise.

Donnie, who was previously rattling about in his box, turns his head and stops short, a frown knitting between his brows. It matches Raph’s current expression almost perfectly.

“I thought you said it was swollen?” Donnie comments, leaning forward to inspect the very not swollen ankle. In fact, it looked in perfect shape. “You said, in your words,” he shoots April a somewhat apologetic look. “Gnarly.”

Raph squeaks again, in disbelief it would appear. 

“It was!” He looks between April and Mikey with quick desperation. “Wasn’t it?”

April gulps and then slowly nods her head. “I… I dunno what happened.” She watches rather gingerly as Don packs his stuff away again. She gives her foot a twirl as if to test it out. “Mike grabbed onto it and… and it got all warm and it was just. Better.”

Donnie and Raph look up at the same time then. Gosh, they really do act like twins sometimes.

“You… grabbed it?” Raph asks, voice pitching upwards slightly. 

Mikey shrugs. His hand no longer feels hot, but he thinks if he had ears right now, they’d probably be burning. “I just held onto it. Thought maybe it’d help.”

Donnie presses all along her joints and bones and once Raph’s pulled her to her feet, she’s able to walk around just fine. No wincing or secret achy bits. It’s like she never hurt it in the first place.

And once Don’s signed her off he retreats back towards the upstairs bathroom again. Raph, Mike and April watch him go when Raph turns to his brother, lifting up one of his hands between his, he says,

“Jeez, bro. You could have maybe unlocked the healing hands any other time for when we needed it other than now. No offense, April.”

But there’s no real bite to his words, not in the way his lips are curling around a knowing smile, or the way April’s bumping his shoulder with his. 

He pulls his hand away with a laugh. “Ha. Leo’s gonna have a field day when he wakes up and finds out I did it on the first try. By accident, too.”

And for an icy moment, Mikey wonders if that when should have been an if. But it all bleeds out, warmth pouring in when Raph barks a laugh and grabs his hand a second time, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Yeah he is,” he tells him, eyes sparkling. Then, his voice goes soft. “And he’ll be proud too.”

And Mikey’s chest aches again, but this time, it feels a little less terrible. And he just can’t wait for his brother to wake up, just so he can tell him all about it. 

[cinnamontails-ff]

13, 16, 20, and 23 ☺️☺️☺️

Hi! Thank you so much for submitting these ❤❤❤ I got a little chatty, so answers are under the cut!

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

All of "Accountant's Guide"? :D Honestly, I keep referring to it as my "once in a lifetime" story because never has writing come so easily to me. It was the kind of writing experience that a lot of people who have never written in a longer format picture writing to be like. A story that just kind of pours out of you, the plot and the vibes and the whole creative direction so incredibly clear, I can still feel it in the text when I reread it. I don't really know what happened there, but I know that it's the easiest story I have ever written. And I think that even if it hadn't found its audience (which, thankfully, it most certainly has!), it would be my favorite writing experience of all time.

16. where is your favorite place to write?

Boring answer, but it's always at my desk :D My desk, specifically; traveling really throws off my writing, even if I have a desk where I'm staying. I think it's because I'm a creature of habit. I like sitting down in the same spot every single day, using the same setup I always do. I will say though, I just recently got a standing desk and being able to switch from sitting to standing and back has been incredible for me as well as my back :D

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

Ooohh that's a good question! Tropes aren't usually something I purposefully add to my stories -- it's more something I think about later in terms of explaining the story to others or marketing it. If I look at the stories I've written so far, I seem to have an almost perfect 50:50 split between enemies to lovers and friends to lovers, sooo ... I guess I like writing romance where they have some kind of shared background, whether it's sweet and loving or outright hostile xD

I'm also a huge fan of the opposite of the chosen one trope? The un-chosen one? The regular guy next door? Basically, I love stories that are about very normal people. People who aren't born special, aren't chosen by some kind of prophecy, but just do their best and rise to the occasion, no matter how hard it might be. I love to explore how even the most mundane kind of skillset (*cough* accounting *cough*) can turn out to be incredibly badass and how even quiet, unassuming characters can save the day if they set their minds to it.

23. how do you deal with writers block?

I don't really believe in writer's block, personally -- and I'm saying that even though my writing output these past months has been an incredibly mixed bag :D But I know there have been a number of very real reasons as to why I've been struggling creatively. Switching from fic to original work, all kinds of interpersonal fandom drama I definitely could have done without, and of course The State of the World in General. All of these have had their impact on my mental state and my ability to devote energy to the things I love outside of work. But I'm of the opinion that framing it as "writer's block" isn't particularly helpful because it isn't some mystical barrier that suddenly appeared in my head; it's simply the result of my real-life circumstances. And that's okay. Life ebbs and flows and so does my creative output.

When I'm super in the zone, I like to set myself writing goals and push myself as much as I can. But when the words don't really want to come, I try not to be too self-critical and take whatever I can get that day. I let myself move around in between projects, working on whatever is most appealing that day. Sometimes I won't even write a proper scene, but just a flow of consciousness from the perspective of a certain character -- and sometimes I find something worth keeping for the manuscript, sometimes not. I think for me, what's most important is to stick with my writing, no matter what. To show up for myself and make it into a question of what I will write, rather than if I will write.

(questions from here!)

[shyfoxsky]

All photographs by Rob Lee

As I begin to look at the oncoming future, I think about my past. Anyone who knew me back when I first awakened, back around December 19, 2015 and some months later, they'd know the image above, which I'd deemed to be Violet, my red fox theriotype, back when I thought my identity came from a past life and I meditated and had "memories" (vivid imaginations) of her living on a snowy mountain that overlooked a little town in the valley. I didn't know much then, but it's nice to think about that time and realize just how much I knew back then about myself. A North American canine with red, black, and white fur, living in mountains, preferring colder temperatures. I can only imagine what me back then would think and say if she saw me now. We've been awakened for almost nine years now, seen a lot of the community, gone through over a dozen "confirmed" kintypes, and yet still rounded back to this same baseline.

Now, I write to you fellow creatures again wondering if I was completely right the first time. My mate has brought up these thoughts again, citing a lot of my behaviors and vocalizations and general mannerisms as being more fox than wolf (to be fair, he has a very surface-level knowledge of animals, but still). Some part of me wishes I could move on from foxes, not see them as a deep part of me anymore, label them as a heartedtype and live as a wolf, but I can't. They feel too small to be me, their coats usually too light, their legs too short, and their bodies too delicate, but they feel so much like me in how they act, interact, etc. Maybe I just want to be a wolf, to be this big, cool animal that I saw everywhere in the community during my formative years with my identity. Maybe I want to be the most common kintype, the one that has so much going for it, who always has a place in those self-care posts and therian outfit boards and Spotify/YouTube playlists and TikTok edits. Maybe I just want a piece of the action, of being a badass animal. Though, on the other hand, this could just be another wave in the constant ebb and flow that is foxes for me. Perhaps foxes are just too important to my journey, both being my first "confirmed theriotype" and the first not-common wild animal I saw, the one that started the journey to me being in wildlife management as a career, and I want it to mean more than that, for it to all be something that perfectly lines up, to start and end the same. Maybe I am a wolf, and part of me longs for the simplicity and fun of those times, to not be the most common theriotype, to not be "the weird wolf girl" and fit into how the humans around me see me.

There's so much depth and nuance to this struggle between wolves and foxes for me. I want it to be simple, as easy as being polytherian, but I just don't feel it in my heart. I don't see myself as more than one creature. I am a single animal, a confused one, but just one. I've thought about the term ambitherian, and to an extent it feels right, calling myself just a wolf, unsure and uncaring of subspecies, but expanding that out to include foxes just feels like too much. Calling myself a general canine is one thing, but looking at gray wolves, red wolves, gray foxes, red foxes, etc. and agreeing that all of them are me is another. It feels like the difference of being shown two customized avatars in a video game made for you by different people. Both feel alright on their own, each close enough to be you in a void, but when put together and asked which one is closer, there's a single winner as far as which one is more you, which one you'll use to play the game. That's what this is like for me. Both wolves and foxes are right, but there's one that's more right than the other. I can't tell which it is, they both have features that are and aren't mine, and most people around me tell me one is more me than the other, but I can't decide for myself which is me enough to represent me throughout my life. I know I don't technically have to choose, therianthropy isn't a video game, but I want to know. It's my identity, it's me, and I want to know me.

I'm worried my ninth and maybe even tenth therian birthdays/awakening anniversaries will be spent as confused as I am now, unsure if I should look at and post myself as a fox or a wolf. I was told when I was new to all this, back when I joined the community in 2016, that after a few years this would all settle, I would find my true theriotype after some introspection and wrong confirmations, and it would simply become a quiet aspect of me, like all of the graymuzzles that haven't questioned their 'type in years, but I'm not so sure. Maybe I should take a break from posting, really let myself dive deep into myself with no influence or pressure. Maybe I should re-research both species. Maybe my senior thesis on red wolves will make things clearer. Either way, I think what would be best is to let myself bluntly and wholly question again, like I haven't done in years, throw caution to the wind and see where my animal soul takes me. I think it's best to just exist for a bit, go into hiding about my labels, just be, and let my species make its way to the surface naturally where only I can see until I'm ready. I'll still be online and post, but for now, I need to be a therian, and nothing more.

[november-rayne]

Chapter Seven: Meeting Sigyn

A/N: The King and Queen have returned to the capital with Loki's fiance and her parents in tow. The citezens gather in droves to get the first look at the future princess.

We find out Frigga has been busy setting some ground rules for the staff while she was away. And Loki garners some knowledge that he wishes he hadn't.

Word Count: 3400

Rating: Mature

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: Loki being a mama's boy, Frigga being a badass, the Brodinsons having a moment

Chapter Index

The inner palace gates opened, and the carriages rolled in, starting down the long thoroughfare toward the palace. The sound of cheering and screams erupted from the crowd. The royal coaches were first, large gold and gleaming in the sun. They were followed by the carriages of Lord Anderson and his entourage. Less extravagant than the princes were used to seeing. Plain black wood with silver, scrolling hardware. It reminded Loki of the hearses he had seen on Midgard.

‘Fitting,’ Loki thought. ‘A funeral procession. This is surely a sign from the Norns.’

Loki’s head was pounding. The sun was too bright. The crowd was too loud. His collar was too tight. He reached up to tug it down for the hundredth time when Thor’s meaty hand intercepted and smacked him back down again.

“Settle yourself!” Thor whispered to Loki through his tight smile. Thor masked the action by waving to the crowd just beyond the courtyard.

“Have some sympathy, Brother,” Loki whispered through the same forced smile Thor wore.

“You get no more sympathy from me, Brother. This suffering is by your own hand. You are our parents’ problem now. Once I settle your debts from your little excursions, I’m washing my hands of this whole ordeal and forgetting it ever happened.”

“Fair enough.” Loki went to pull at his collar again but thought better of it, lacing his fingers behind his back instead.

As Loki watched the carriages make their way down the long thoroughfare toward the palace, his chest started feeling heavier and heavier. Guilt tugged at his insides. “Thank you, by the way.”

“What?” Loki saw Thor’s composure break for half a second before he affixed the fake smile again.

“I must express my gratitude to you for returning me to the land of the living again. However, living is a loose term in this instance. My guts feel like they are trying to free themselves from my body and my head,” Loki shook his head, “Norns! My head pains something dreadful.”

Thor pulled a genuine smile. “You owe me one. And, it should be noted, for as bad as you feel in this moment, you look a hundred times worse.”

A burst of laughter escaped from Loki’s lips. Thor joined in and slapped a hand on his back. Loki barely kept himself upright under the bulk of Thor’s weighty hand. “Norns,” he whispered. The coaches were near the roundabout at the end of the thoroughfare.

‘Norns, please don’t let me retch again,’

“Thor?”

“I’m here, Loki.” He looked his brother in the eye and left his hand on his back. His fake smile was gone; his blue eyes were soft. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, baby brother.”

Loki let out a shaky breath. He felt tears prick his eyes and quickly blinked them away. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard. Thor rubbed a small circle on his back, then returned to his regal posture. Loki took a few deep breaths and then mimicked his posture.

The most opulent coach pulled up to the base of the palace steps. The King emerged first. The roar of the crowd almost brought Loki to his knees. Searing white pain exploded in his skull. He forced his eyes to stay open and took quick, shallow breaths waiting for the pain to ebb.

“You’ve got this, Loki. We will be back inside the palace walls in no time now.” Thor whispered as he watched their father help the Queen from the carriage. Another roar as Frigga beamed up at her sons, her relief to finally be home written all over her face.

The royal couple smiled and waved at the crowd as they made their way up the stone steps to the large courtyard where the princes were waiting.

Frigga broke protocol and pulled both of her boys into a firm embrace. “My, how I have missed the two of you!” She pulled back slightly and asked, “Please tell me why you look like you’ve just crawled out of Hel, Loki?”

Loki exhaled slowly through his fake smile. “It is so good to have you back, Mother. I’m just a bit under the weather.”

“I can smell the ale in you, boy! It has saturated you to the bone and escapes from your pores! The oils you bathed in scarcely mask the smell. You dare embarrass yourself and your mother on the day of your betrothal?” Odin’s face was red, and the vein on the side of his head looked fit to burst.

“In my defense, I only learned of your return a few hours ago.”

“Silence! Not another word! If you value your life, you will charm this family to your side.”

“But of course! Why would I not charm this gold-digging shrew of a bride that I do not even want…to…” Loki’s voice trailed off. He had been prepared to unleash all his vitriol regarding the surprise betrothal until he glanced down.

Time came to a screeching halt. The crowd disappeared. The world shrank and collapsed to one point: the woman who stepped out of the coach at the bottom of the stairs. She was exquisite. She was tall, toned, and beautiful. Loki’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Norns…” Thor whispered under his breath.

“You were saying?” Frigga elbowed Loki in his side, and he immediately corrected his posture.

Loki could not respond. He could not think. He could only stare at Sigyn as she waited for her parents at the base of the stairs. She was dressed in forest green silk, a high-neck halter dress that fluttered in layers down her ankles. She wore a copper belt and matching jewelry. Her deep brown hair hung in thick curls down to her waist. Her skin was smooth and sun kissed.

Loki felt his heart thundering in his chest. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure, until she lifted her face to him and gave him the slyest of little smiles, stealing a look at him from under her lashes. Heat pooled in his chest and rose to his cheeks.

Her face was perfect. Large, emerald-green eyes, thick black lashes, high cheekbones, and the most perfectly shaped, pillowy lips Loki had ever seen. Her face, there was beauty there, no question, but there was also something else Loki recognized immediately: mischief.

His breath came out in a whoosh, and he swayed where he stood. His knees became weak and threatened to give out at any moment. Mischief radiated from her. The little smirk on her lips and the glittering glint in her eyes took his breath away. He had never seen the virtue emanate from anyone other than himself.

“She is a gift to you, my son, but I hardly think you deserve her after how you have behaved.” Odin’s voice was faint behind the pounding of Loki’s pulse in his ears. He could not respond. His mouth was dry; his tongue was thick.

‘Mine.’ Loki replied in his mind. Heat pooled in his lower belly. She was a gift for him. He could not wait to touch her. To taste her. He wanted to fall to his knees and worship her right there on the stones in front of the palace.

She smiled a genuine wide smile at the people while she waved. The realm seemed just as enamored with her as Loki. The crowd cheered, shouted, and screamed louder for her than the King and Queen.

‘Mine,’ he thought again as she climbed the stony staircase to meet them.

Odin clasped his hands behind his back as Lord Anderson and his family bowed to the King. “Welcome to my home. Please let me introduce my sons.” As was customary, Thor stepped forward first. “My firstborn and heir to the throne, Thor.” He shook hands with Lord Anderson. “Thor, Lord and Lady Anderson, with their lovely daughter, Sigyn.”

“Your Lordship,” Thor nodded, “My Lady and Lady Sigyn.” Thor took each of the ladies’ hands in turn and kissed the back of each one. “Welcome to the palace. And welcome to the family,” he winked at Sigyn.

“It is an honor to see you again, My Prince. You’ve grown into quite the strapping lad, haven’t you?” Sigyn’s mother patted his bicep through his tunic.

“We’ve met before, Lady Anderson?” Thor raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, I do not expect you to remember me. We had a diplomatic visit hundreds of years ago. You were only yea high.” She held her hand out below her hip. “And your brother was still wearing his nappies.” She leaned around Thor to look at Loki, and her smile quickly slipped. “Oh, my. Are you ill, dear?” Sigyn sniggered behind her mother and her maid pinched her elbow to quiet her.

“Please excuse Loki, My Lady.” Frigga stepped up before he could retort. “He-”

“Ah, no need to explain, My Queen.”  Lord Anderson interrupted with a wave of his hand. “I know a hangover when I see one. It appears even princes get pre-wedding jitters.” His belly bounced in amusement. “You see, dearest, the royals are real people. Just like us.”  He gave Sigyn a little prod with his elbow. Lady Anderson clutched her pearls.

“Loki, my second son.” Odin presented him to the family, his face a hard mask.

Loki forced his eyes off Sigyn to meet her parents. He shook hands with Lord Anderson, “My Lord.” He kissed Lady Anderson’s hand, “My Lady.”  He eagerly turned to Sigyn, “My Lady.” He took her hand slowly in his. The gathered crowd cheered.

“It is an honor to meet you, My Prince.” Sigyn bowed into a deep curtsey. Her voice was sultry but feminine. Her warm skin felt like silk on Loki’s fingers as he kissed the back of her hand. Lingering a tad longer than was appropriate, he relished the scent of her skin. She smelled like sunshine and citrus, and he had to force himself to release her. A slight nod was all he could respond to her. He did not yet trust himself to say more.

Odin stepped in between the couple. “Good people of Asgard,” a hush fell over the crowd. “It is my honor to announce the betrothal of our dear Prince Loki,” he took Loki’s hand, “to the Lady Sigyn of Smaragdberg” He took Sigyn’s hand and placed it in Loki’s. “We make this match for the good of the realm and for the good of our family. Please join me in welcoming my future daughter and future Princess of Asgard!” 

The people cheered and applauded. The extreme noise would have done Loki in if he were not fixated on the woman beside him.

‘Mine.’ His mind reminded him.

He could not take his eyes off her as she smiled and waved to the crowd with her free hand. She turned to wave to the other side of the thoroughfare and caught Loki’s eyes on hers.

“Smile and wave, Your Highness,” she whispered through her teeth. She gave Loki’s hand a firm squeeze.

“Pardon?” he asked dumbly, still staring.

“Your people…” she motioned with her eyebrows, “are trying to get your attention.”

“My people?” Loki’s reverie was broken when he heard the chants of his name. “Oh, right.” 

He turned on his most dashing smile and started waving to the people with his free hand. Sigyn giggled, and Loki thought he might melt right into the stone.

“I promise I’m not a moron,” he said to her through his smile.       

“Is that so? You could have fooled me.” She gave his hand another playful squeeze. “Besides, moron or not, it seems that I am stuck with you. I can only pray to the Norns that our children inherit my intellect.”

Loki turned back to see the sly smile that played on her lips. ‘Oh, she is funny,’ Loki thought.

“When I decide to bless you with my heirs, I promise you they will be the cleverest, most handsome children. Just like their father.” Loki watched as her smile widened on her face, and he forgot how to breathe.

“Hmm. We will have to wait and see, I suppose. I hear drinking to excess is not good for virility.”

Loki huffed, “My Lady, I can assure you my-”

“Come! We have had a long journey. Let us get our guests settled in their chambers.”  Frigga said as she clapped her hands, signaling the guards that they were making their way into the palace.

Loki offered Sigyn his arm as they turned and made their way inside. There was a frenzy of people inside the palace. Porters moving trunks, courtiers scrabbling for the King’s attention, servants bustling back and forth.

“We will retire to our chambers and meet for a private dinner in the small dining room. Saving the feast for tomorrow night will give all a chance to recover from the stress of our journey.” Frigga gave Loki a pointed look as she said this, but he did not notice. He did not want to leave Sigyn’s side, yet he did need to get out of his tunic and lay down.

“Until dinner, then?” Loki asked Sigyn as her maids collected her.

She curtsied with a nod, then followed her mother up the marble stairs. Her maids trailed so close behind her that Loki was robbed of the chance to steal a peek at her body from the back.

“Loki will escort me to my chamber.” Frigga motioned for him to follow her. “Thor, you will escort me to dinner. Eight o’clock sharp.”

“Yes, Mother.”  Thor kissed Frigga’s cheek and then threw a wistful look at Loki. “Good luck.” He whispered to his brother as he headed toward his chamber.

Frigga whispered something to the maid at her side. The woman glanced at Loki before she bowed and quickly headed off down the hall. Frigga held her elegant hand out to Loki, and he placed it in the crook of his arm. They walked silently for a moment before Frigga asked, “Do you want to tell me the truth, or do I have to find out on my own?”

Loki drew in a deep breath. “I guess you could say I did not take the news of my betrothal very well. I panicked. I fled from the palace, and I... did not behave in a manner befitting my status.” Loki dared a glance at his mother, expecting disappointment but finding only a stern resolve.

He continued, “If Thor had not found me and dragged me back here…” He shook his head. “I cannot summon my seiðr… Mother, I am sorry. I behaved foolishly.” He stopped and turned to look Frigga in her eyes. “Mother, please, say something.”

“What is done is done. There is only one chance to make a first impression.” Frigga sighed. “I had hoped for a better reception, but part of me had expected some resistance. I can only assume, after seeing your reaction, that you approve of this match?”

“Sigyn is… perfect. She is lovely…” Loki could finally think clearly now that Sigyn was out of his sight.

“But?” Frigga raised her eyebrows.

“…but I do not wish to marry her.” Frigga resumed their walk, a knowing smile on her lips.

“And why is that?”

“Because I do not wish to marry anyone.”

“And why is that?”

“I... I cannot be a good and faithful husband.”

“And why is that?”

Loki sighed, “She did stir feelings in me, Mother, but not the kind you were hoping for. How do I know my interest in her will last beyond the physical?”

“Get to know her, Loki. Give this a fair chance. Make me a promise?”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you will court her and get to know her. Promise me you will not bed her until you love her, really love her, not just her body. Promise me you will save it for your wedding night.”

“Mother…I…” Loki thought about that for a long moment. “What if I never love her? What if she never loves me?” Loki let out a shaky breath. ‘Could anyone like her love someone like me?’

“Oh, my sweet prince. You are deserving of love.” Frigga replied. Knowing her son so well, she could almost read his mind. “I can call off the wedding if needed.”  Loki looked at her, stunned. “Am I not still Queen of Asgard? Promise me that you will be a perfect gentleman, and truly try and get to know her for one month. At the end of the month, if you honestly feel that I was mistaken, that this is a bad match, I will cancel the wedding and manage fallout.”

“You would do that for me?”

“Of course, my darling boy. If you keep your promise to me.”

Loki contemplated the proposal for several moments. On the one hand, what could it hurt to humor her? He could try courting the girl. After all, she seemed witty and funny from the few minutes spent with her. A month is a short time. At the end of the month, he could bid her farewell and resume the life he was used to.

On the other hand, did he want to spend all that time with her and not be able to seduce her? To taste her? To see her glorious body lazing on his bed sheets? Loki’s heart sank.

“I cannot seduce her?”

“Loki…”

“What if she seduces me?”

Frigga laughed, “I guess you will have to find some way to resist. Anticipation is part of the thrill.” She wagged her eyebrows at him.

“Mother!”

“What? How do you think you and your brother came into this world? I did not grow you in my vegetable garden.”

“I understand the process, Mother.” Loki shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Your father is an amazing lover. I still find it exceedingly difficult to keep my hands off him.”

“Norns, Mother! Still?” Loki felt his stomach threatening to betray him again.

“Naturally! I am not dead yet. But there is a time and a place for such things. Treat the girl like the Lady that she is. Earn her love and respect. The benefits will far outweigh a few weeks of going without.”

“Wait. Do you want me to abstain, not just from Sigyn, but from anyone? Mother…I-”

Frigga rolled her eyes, “Yes, dear boy, I am asking you to abstain. I assure you that you will survive. I have taken it upon myself to select your new chambermaid, a very devout married woman who will clean your rooms, launder your clothes, and prepare your baths. And that is all she will do. I have warned the staff that anyone caught engaging with you will be escorted from the palace.”

“Mother!”

“Loki, it is only one month. Please spare me your grumblings on the matter. How can you truly get to know the girl if your pursuits are elsewhere?”

Loki thought about this for a moment. “Okay, fine. I promise to keep my hands to myself. I promise to give her a chance. I promise to get to know her as a person.”

“And?”

“And I promise to be as pious as a priest. Now, can we please change the subject?” Loki shuddered.

“Okay. I promise to call off the wedding if you truly feel she is not the one for you.”  She smiled at him like she did when she knew something he did not. “Now, what else did you want to talk about?”

“My seiðr. Why can’t I summon my seiðr?” They stopped directly in front of the double doors to the royal apartment. Two guards were waiting on either side. The maid from earlier was also there holding a small bottle.

“You must have been on the brink, my dear. Your body is using every drop of its energy to keep you alive. Lay off the drink and rest. And here,” she took the bottle from the woman, “drink this.” Loki took the bottle and eyed it suspiciously.

“What is this?”

“A little something to help you feel better. A hangover remedy I used to make for your father. I always keep a bottle on hand, just in case. Drink this and go lie down.”

Loki removed the stopper and downed the whole bottle in two swallows. “That is a good boy.” Frigga took the bottle and gave him a big hug. “Do not be late for dinner!”

“Eight o’clock sharp. I will be there.” He kissed her cheek and made his way back to his chambers. The heat of the potion was already spreading warmth through his body.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @trickster-maiden @simone818283

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list. Thanks!

XOXO- Rayne 💚

[jelixpo]

Hello! I've finished reading A Table Turned and it was AMAZING! Thank you so much and congratulations on finishing it! I have a question though. In the epilogue we can see that Luigi still has burns/scars and that he's trembling. Will all of that eventually ebb away or will he keep sequelae for life? I also hoped to see the children's reactions upon seeing Bowser's new appearance.

Luigi and Bowser will both always have the scars left by King Boo's attack. I thought by giving them scars, it would give the story more weight and meaning, like the events of the story genuinely mattered to the characters.

I always thought that the koopalings would think Bowsers scars were cool, whereas Luigi's I imagined they would have a more hesitant reaction to. With Bowser's scars, they just look like badass battle scars and it's easy to forget what he had to suffer through to get them. Luigi's scars and loss of dexterity is a constant reminder that he was very badly hurt. I think all of the koopalings were a lot gentler with Luigi after he got his scars

[cosmotheo]

PF2E Classes and Dating Dynamics

Episode 1: Bard

Bard + Alchemist: Wedded Weirdoes. Sharing a love for the boundaries of the known world, and even moreso pushing past those boundaries into the unknown. Eclectic, odd, and idiosyncratic, but never out of sync with one another. There is at least 1 mutagenic used in the bedroom nightly.

Bard + Barbarian: The Wolf and its Howl. Barbarian feels numb to the world due to their grueling training, and Bard reminds them the beauty of small, gentle things. Who is protecting whom differs depending on which you ask.

Bard + Bard: Songbirds. Cute little love ballads to each other, coming up with the stupidest rhymes with each other's names. Calling each other pet names like "Muse" and "My Sweet Sonata". Nasty freaky sex.

Bard + Cleric: Would you still love me if I were a Bookworm? They meet in a class discussing the Theological importance behind Likha, The Teller. Both are quiet, so as not to gush, until an obscure bit of trivia leaps from their mouths in unison. They spend the night together in the dorms, but they're far too busy talking to sleep. Two lovable gray ace dorks.

Bard + Champion: Hype and Hyper. Champion slays and kicks ass for their god. Bard thinks that's badass, starts playing some sick trumpet. The excitement is electric, and sparks form between them. They have a sex playlist, and Def Lepperd is on it.

Bard + Druid: The Spider and the Fly. No one understands the Druid quite like the Bard. There is a roughness, a viciousness to love that society has shorn off. Filed the points from our fangs to distance ourselves from beasts. The Bard remembers. The Bard can sing the old songs, just like the Druid can. Stare them in the eye, no matter their shape or size, and refuse to blink. Their love is raw gold in the belly of a forgotten cave, and that's just how they like it.

Bard + Fighter: Knight and Squire. Bard has ballads set aside just to tend to Fighter's wounds. Fighter learned to pick up a shield so that no one hurts their Bard. They lift each other up, holding each other to a fierce, almost competitive standard, only because they believe in each other so much.

Bard + Inventor: Experimental. Societal standards are stupid and identity is what they want it to be. Transhumanists who love each other's ability to ebb and flow. Music, fashion, expression, and even bodily configuration change day by day, and yet their hearts never drift apart.

Bard + Kineticist: Hearts Aflame. A Bard in awe of a dangerous powerhouse of fire. A Kineticist baffled by this Bard's insistence on being around despite constantly getting (slightly) incinerated. Their love is sacrifice and compromise, hard earned and Aloe scented.

Bard + Magus: Battle Buddies! Have you ever noticed how combat is like a dance? These two have! Magic, steel, song, dance, blending together in beautiful harmony. It's no wonder they get along so well, they're like puzzle pieces fit tightly together.

Bard + Monk: Order and Entropy. Sometimes, we must shed blood for peace. Sometimes, our silence must speak loudly for us. The Bard's creativity is tempered by the Monk's discipline. The Monk's form is made flowing by the Bard's song. In life and love, all things must be brought into balance.

Bard + Oracle: Strangers Together. An Oracle's burden is a heavy one. Nightmares wrack their restless nights, and alienation riddles their everyday life. If not for the lullabies of the Bard, they wonder how they would sleep at all. They hold hands, staring together at the Enigma, and for a moment, they feel a little less alone in this weird, wild world.

Bard + Psychic: Dark Side of the Heart. Bard will never forget their first meeting. Psychic will never remember it. The power of a Dark Persona is mesmerizing, like looking into the eye of a storm. Bard has tried and failed a hundred times to capture that feeling into a song. Psychic eventually stops apologizing for its existence... and feels a lot less lonely now that they have someone to confide their darkness into.

Bard + Ranger: Folk Heroes! Any talking that is done in this relationship is very one sided. The Bard will tell you all about how their partner slayed the evil giant with one hand tied behind their back, or pole vaulted across the sea with a single bamboo chute, or lifted a whole town out of the way of a volcanic eruption! The Ranger, smiling quietly, will simply add "That's true, mostly."

Bard + Rogue: Starcrossed Sneakthiefs. They meet in jail, both imprisoned under different circumstances. This isn't either of their first jailbreaks, but its their first one together. They turn robbery into romance, and second story work into soulful serenades. The only thing they need is each other... and everyone else's stuff too.

Bard + Sorcerer: Forbidden Feelings. Who else would understand? The way that society treats us different...the way they cast their looks of shame down upon us. We were born this way! We had no choice! If only they knew just how heavy it was... the burden of being...just so horny for dragons.

Bard + Summoner: Pet People. It's not often you find your true soulmate, or a trusty animal companion that'll stay by your side. Even rarer, the Bard finds both in the Summoner. Eidolons, the truest shape of one's soul, have a kind of "people sense" that cannot be overstated. It is no surprise then that the Summoner's face turns bright red when, for the first time ever, their Eidolon bends its head down to allow the Bard to give the goodest boy some pats.

Bard + Swashbuckler: Theater Dropouts. They met in the detention center of their college. One had switched the prop swords with real ones to show their prowess on stage. The other had cast Sleep on the lead to make them miss their entrance. It isn't their fault that the stage isn't big enough for them, someone ought to build a bigger stage! When they look into each other's eyes, minutes before facing their possible expulsion, they realize it doesn't matter. They'll star in this adventure together, two leads unbound by petty things like direction and criticism.

Bard + Thaumaturge: Hobby Hubbies. Bards, like crows, are known for their love of shiny things. Any Thaumaturge worth their weight in salt has a plethora of trinkets, doodads, and gizmos that have been marinating in hundreds of years of esoteric lore. You know what they say, couples that treasure hunt together stay together.

Bard + Witch: Love Through Spite. Listen, patrons suck. They're flighty, they speak in riddles, they have stupid expectations, and half the time they don't even know what they want. The only difference between ours is that yours is the Spirit of Winter and mine owns a villa in Tian Xia. Let's bitch together until the pain stops.

Bard + Wizard: Bitter Rivals. These two are the absolute bane of any unsuspecting lecture goer's existence. It starts off simply, one will answer a question provided by a teacher, or give some small anecdote. Like volatile chemistry, the other will react with something snide. Snideness turns to rudeness. Rudeness turns to vitriol. Vitriol manifests in nasty spells slung across the lecture hall. With all of the fighting they do, it's a wonder (and a nightmare, really) to all their classmates why they always end up in the same classes. The truly keen are left with an even larger mystery: why has the Wizard been repeatedly spotted leaving the Bard's dorm in the wee hours of the morning? The world may never know.

[h2shonotes]

If you've ever listened to the Hamilton soundtrack, you know that "Satisfied" is an absolute powerhouse of a song. But have you ever thought about how perfect it is for your water aerobics class? Let me break it down.

First off, "Satisfied" is all about that dynamic energy. The fierce lyrics and rapid-fire delivery set a pace that keeps your mind engaged. It's like a verbal choreography, and when you're in the water, you can channel that intensity into your movements.

The rhythm of the song is perfect for interval training. The ebb and flow of the verses and chorus create a natural guide for alternating between high-energy bursts and recovery periods. When the beat drops and the intensity picks up, you can push yourself harder—think fast kicks, powerful arm pulls, and quick transitions between moves. And when the pace slows, it’s the perfect moment to catch your breath while still moving with purpose.

Plus, there's something about the water that amplifies the drama of the song. The way your body moves in the water—graceful, yet strong—mirrors the emotional weight of Angelica's story. It’s like you're not just exercising; you’re performing, with the water as your stage and "Satisfied" as your anthem.

And let’s not forget the empowerment factor. "Satisfied" is all about owning your decisions and standing strong in your truth. When you’re in that pool, channeling Angelica’s strength, it’s impossible not to feel like a badass. That kind of mental boost is exactly what we all need in a workout—something that pushes us to go harder, reach further, and leave it all in the water.

So next time you’re looking to switch up your water aerobics playlist, throw "Satisfied" on and get ready to feel unstoppable. Trust me, your workout will never be the same. 💪💧