#idle heroes guide

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to write charisma in different characters? like a royal , a moody teen , a young leader?

Writing Notes: Charismatic Characters

Charisma - a personal magic of leadership arousing special popular loyalty or enthusiasm for a public figure (such as a political leader); a special magnetic charm or appeal (Merriam-Webster)

As a Literary Trope:

It determines someone's ability to influence others.

Fairly vague in nature, this influence can take the form of anything from inspiring loyalty to intimidating others, and finds its natural home in checks involving interactions.

While usually not explicitly supernatural, it can nevertheless even work on supernatural entities in some settings. One guide on different levels of charisma:

The character is adept at understanding and manipulating other people, though not outstandingly good.

The character is likely a leader or performer by profession. They have a talent for evoking emotion in others, through speeches, artistic works or possibly just idle taunts.

The character begins to become more influential than almost anyone has a right to be. A paragon of virtue or brutal dictator are both possible paths.

It doesn't matter how good you are. This guy or gal has several hundred devoted followers to match you, possibly even an entire army or country. Negotiation, bribery, blackmail...none of these will have any effect when matched against raw zeal. It's not like you'll be able to resist for long, anyway.

"The Leader" Trope

Every group usually has a leader. When push comes to shove, there's gotta be someone that stands up, takes charge, and makes a decision. Even if it goes unsaid, it's usually obvious to everyone who's calling the shots.

The de facto leader does it out of necessity or their personality type.

The de jure leader is officially agreed upon, and may hold the title or rank.

One type is the "Charismatic" Leader. Defining trait: Likeability. The Face of the team, either because they're the most feared, most skilled, most loved and respected, chosen by destiny, or are the most personally invested in the team's goals. In contrast to Masterminds, their personality is what brings, and keeps, the team together. At an impasse, everyone else is willing to agree to what they want to do and won't argue. The strongest of these are the core of their group, weaker ones are mascots or figureheads. May overlap with or evolve into any of the other three types of leaders (The Mastermind; the Levelheaded; the Headstrong).

The "Universally Beloved Leader" Trope

Everyone loves this ruler.

A simple request — not an order, but an appeal — will get immediate results.

Even their enemies will acknowledge their virtue, viewing them as Worthy Opponents.

The "Magnetic Hero" Trope

Another leader character trope with charisma.

Occasionally, you get a hero with such personal magnetism that he is capable of persuading others, to join him in his quest.

Of course, the new companion has no qualms about killing for, or even dying for, the hero, despite having known him only briefly and facing many people who want him dead.

This is a staple of fiction that may well be Older Than They Think.

Many epics and legends chronicle the process by which a hero gathers a band of motley friends and allies of dubious background but doubtless courage and nobility.

Even if the hero has no special quality compared to his subordinates, this is often his implied "power", their heart.

Charismatic Leadership

A subtype of transformational leadership.

In charismatic leadership, the leader checks all 4 of the boxes outlined below but he or she is also very skilled in communicating with others, especially on a deeper level (Riggio, 2012).

Bass’ transformational leadership style, characterized by:

Idealized influence: the leader is liked and respected by their followers, and serve as a role model.

Inspirational motivation: the leader motivates and inspires their followers.

Intellectual stimulation: the leader promotes creativity and innovation through open-mindedness and non-threatening questioning of ideas.

Individualized consideration: the leader treats each follower as a unique individual with unique strengths, weaknesses, and needs (Bass & Riggio, 2006).

The Greek word charisma means "favor" or "gift."

It comes from the verb charizesthai ("to favor"), which in turn comes from the noun charis, meaning "grace."

In English, charisma was originally used in Christian contexts to refer to a gift or power bestowed upon an individual by the Holy Spirit for the good of the Church—a sense that is now very rare.

These days, we use the word to refer to social, rather than divine, grace. For instance, a leader with charisma may easily gain popular support, and a job applicant with charisma may shine in an interview.

Some researchers suggest charisma isn't enough to make successful leaders. "If leaders are only charismatic, they'd rather keep power for themselves," Stefani Yorges, PhD, a West Chester University psychology professor notes.

Psychologist Robert Hogan, PhD, agrees, suggesting that charisma has a dark side resembling narcissism. 

"People who score high on narcissism are bold, assertive, attractive and powerful - what we would consider charismatic," Hogan says. "But they can fail as leaders because they never admit mistakes. It's a myth that great leaders are simply charismatic. They are also humble."

Charismatic, Moody Teen Character

some related tropes you can combine and borrow ideas from:

A Child Shall Lead Them: A child, often a teenager, leads a group of adults. Youthful rulers are common in literature and history. If children, they are depicted as adorable; if in their teens or twenties, they simply create a sense of awe and protectiveness in their older advisers. Their naive simplicity may in fact make them good (and sometimes ruthless) rulers, as they prefer to cut through the red tape of court etiquette. Because of their youth and inexperience, they are often underestimated by the villains. They usually exhibit great wisdom in the course of the story, thus justifying their enormous power despite their youth.

Grade-School C.E.O.: A minor, often a teenager, holds a high-ranking position in a company. Usually younger than 17 years old, which is just young enough that it seems implausible. Often the age is justified by the fact that their parents owned the controlling interest in the company, so ownership of it fell to them upon their death.

Teens Are Angsty: Teens portrayed as whiny, mopey or self-important. They can be summed up in the sentence "Nobody understands me!". Most works with an angsty teen do it semi-sympathetically, where the character is at worst whiny and judgmental, but fundamentally good. However, it's not considered Age-Appropriate Angst as their complaints feel unjustified for their age.

Charismatic Royal Characters

some related tropes for inspiration:

The Good King: Is honorable, virtuous, wise, and understanding ruling The Good Kingdom. He treats his subjects with respect (no matter how seemingly unimportant they are), governs the land fairly, is a Royal Who Actually Does Something, and feels no need to flaunt his considerable power. The Good King also tends to be soft-spoken, but when he raises his voice, you’d better listen. You might mistake his kindness for weakness, but you would do well to remember that good does not always equal soft.

The High King: A person who even other rulers swear fealty to, but chooses not to hold the rank of Emperor. It is a title derived from historical Britain (with approximate equivalents in several other places), and widely used in fiction. A High King rules a feudal alliance or federation of states; usually he doesn't manifest direct power over all subjects of his vassal kings, which makes him different from a totalitarian emperor who is omnipresent in the daily affairs of his subjects. That's why a High King is likely to be good.

The High Queen: A woman of wealth, power, and near-impossible beauty. She always has a calm demeanor and regal bearing. Her very voice, even if it does not ring with power (and it often does), still lets you know that, in some way, she is probably better than you, even if the lady herself does not look down on you at all. Her beauty and goodness are usually to be admired passionately but from some distance. The High Queen is rarely a love interest, but the few times she is, expect a little warming up due to the charms of the hero.

Reluctant Ruler: Someone who is entrusted with permanent power over others despite desperately trying to avoid it at all costs. It is believed that between a brilliant person who strives for glory and a brilliant person who shuns it, the latter is least likely to abuse the power they are given, automatically making them a passable, if not great, ruler.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Here are some references and related tropes. Choose which ones best suit your story. And modify as needed/desired. You can find more examples and details in the sources linked above. Hope this helps with your writing!

[thementalshawty]

PAC YOUR PERSON’S LOVE LANGUAGE.

Heylow my mental madness babies, I am here today with a new PAC, I’m going to apologize for my popping in and out, it succs that I’m not consistent and I really wanna be which is why not gonna make excuses imma just apologize! Please forgive me you guys truly mean a lot to me. Now today we’re going to be getting into the nitty gritty of your persons love language whether that be your FS, Current Partner, or Crush. We’re going to find out what they need to feel loved and adored, you’re going to picc the fruit you most resonate with idk why it’s always does that with me but okay, fruit emojis it is lol

P1: 🍎

P2: 🥒

P3: 🍍

P4: 🦞???? That just came into my head randomly so we will see about this one! Let’s get it!!!

Ohh & As a special gift for my Patreon members you’ll get an extra reading on how they’ll express their love for you.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

PILE 1:

Love language: Physical Touch, Acts of Service.

I’m seeing the word affectionate as I was typing the love languages in just now I’m seeing that your person is a very caring and affectionate person and they maybe love to feel and touch on you, they love doing things for the ones they love and care about, any chores you need done they’ll do it for you so you can chill, no more means more cuddle time! I’m hearing the word genuine? I’m feeling like your guides want you to know that it’s real and not an act that they’re doing because they wanna get you into bed or make you bend to their will or no weird ass shit like that, I’m also seeing with the imagery of the 8 of Pentacles card that came out for you guys that this persons love language is definitely gift giving. In my opinion which I really should’ve disclosed in the intro which I think I might or the outro, shit or in every pile we shall see, point is, I believe that it’s all our love Languages all five but I do believe everyone has a top 3 the main 3 you know? And this person they’re definitely physical touch, acts of service, and gift giving. They wanna learn you, be a master at what you need and want so you go to them for everything, they like being your hero. They are a master at whatever they put their heart and soul into and they’re unstoppable, they have idle hands I’m hearing which is why when they’re laying down or cuddling or with their person in general they’ll probably be touching and feeling all over them you know? They have a tight bear hug or their grip on you or whoever they’re feeling all over is hard and strong like they holding on to their person for dear life, hmmm maybe attachment issues?? That’s for another reading! Quality time I’m feeling is the honorary fourth!

Extended reading on my Patreon

🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒🥒

Pile 2

Their Love Languages Words of Affirmation!!!!!!! Gift Giving, Acts of Service

This person LOVES AND NEEDS MENTAL STIMULATION! They need their mind to be turned on and elevated to feel love, they love learning new things they can be on the young side so I’m seeing they’re still in school kind of a nerdy person that needs to release their freak, they got some freaky deaky kinks that they hide under wraps or that they’re learning about right now, they love hearing how much they mean to someone, they probably never heard it enough or was talked down to a lot but they’re learning I’m hearing and that reassurance is what they need and crave frfr I’m seeing the word desire they truly want this from their loved ones. They’re very determined and concentrated on their lovers, they like to learn them, so they can do things for them, I’m also see they to give gifts nothing always expensive or glamorous little gifts that show they’re paying attention to your likes and dislikes. Very curious mind, inquisitive always asking questions. I also think that they love being asked questions as well. They’re adaptable! Love discovering new things about themselves. They are beyond passionate and never hesitate to show how they feel that’s so special this person really is such a dynamite, femme fatale in the making if you’re looking for female frfr! They’re young so they don’t know much about their love languages yet, but for sure words of affirmations is their shit!

Extended Reading on my Patreon

🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍🍍

PILE 3

Their Love Language: Gift Giving, Quality Time.

Honestly, these cards are getting straight to the point and it’s getting harder and harder to make a longer reading for it. I feel like this person needs to receive gifts to feel loved and it doesn’t have to be anything luxurious but anything that shows you were thinking about them, I’m seeing that they definitely have more than they received in their life I’m hearing shorter end of the stick which means they always received the shit deal of things so I get why they need that reassurance. I’m feeling like they’ve been stood up, abandoned and forgotten about time and time again by the one who they constantly show up for, never leave or forget about and it hurts them over and over so when they receive little momentos from their loved ones randomly too??? It brightens up their entire world they love being around those who care about them enough to give them little gifts and spend time with them! That’s something big for them too I feel like they love it when others go out of their way to make time for them, especially when they didn’t have too like if you were busy but you were like oh fuck it imma just cancel that and chill with you they’ll absolutely adore that fact and that in itself will make them feel so loved, someone coming through for them is huge! they seem responsible but they never had anyone responsible around them it’s seeming like those syndrome, but again that’s for another reading. I’m feeling like again they really appreciate someone buying/making them gifts 🎁 and someone spending time with them, it warms their fuzzy little heart, this person is a care bear I’m hearing.

Extended Reading on my Patreon

🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞 🦞🦞🦞🦞

PILE 4

Their Love Language: Words of Affirmations, Acts of Service, Quality Time.

Okay so this person needs healing! They’re in the process of healing right now and entering a whole new phase of their life. I’m seeing that they need words of love and encouragement they need to know that they can do it otherwise they probably will overthink of the millions of ways they can fail or it can go wrong. This person crashes and burnout a lot. They put a lot on their plate and it’s not like it’s too much for them but they don’t know when to stop and it causes them to well crash out eventually they need someone to tell them that they can chill, they’ve done enough, they need someone that can give them that mental comfort they’re trying so hard to instill in themselves that they just can’t seem to make happen. I’m seeing that they need someone to help them do the chores which I feel for this pile, their love languages need to be explained cos they won’t ask for help or even express they need their love language spoken too or expressed. They need someone who’ll make the time to go to them especially because I feel they get days where they don’t even wanna text or call anyone like social battery drains but they secretly want someone they can talk too or who they know will come to their side and just talk to whole day, help them do laundry and clean their house when they’re not full mentally ready to do all of that shit. They definitely need someone who’s a ride or die frfr they’ll never ask for it though. Not pride they feel they don’t deserve it.

Extended Reading on my Patreon

🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭🎭

THANK YOU 🙏 FOR TUNING INTO THIS READING AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AS WELL AS GOT SOME CLARITY BABIES! 👶

[emma23]

headcanon y/n and Oscar Isaac characters during Halloween:

————————————————————————

Happy Halloween guys 🎃

Hope u enjoy it 💕🤗

—————————————————————————————————————

Steven Grant:

Halloween brings out Steven's passion for mythology, and he suggests a night tour of the museum to explore its more mysterious artifacts. As he eagerly guides you through the Egyptian exhibits, he starts sharing stories.

“Did you know the ancient Egyptians believed the dead lived in a world parallel to ours?” Steven’s eyes light up as he whispers. “They thought, on certain nights, like All Hallows' Eve, the boundary thins.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “You mean like... they could just walk back into our world?”

Steven laughs nervously. “Yeah, but don’t worry! They’re friendly spirits, mostly.” He leans closer, eyes wide with excitement. “Although, if we see anything out of place… just, uh, pretend you don’t notice it.”

Marc Spector:

Marc isn’t one for costumes or spooky stories, but he’s all in for protecting you during a Halloween adventure. He ends up taking you to an abandoned warehouse turned haunted house. You’re both wandering through dark corridors when he notices you jump at a sudden sound.

“You alright?” Marc’s voice cuts through the dark, firm but soft.

You laugh, catching your breath. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Marc smirks, moving in closer. “You’re safe with me. Besides,” he adds, “those fake ghosts have nothing on the things I’ve seen.”

“Care to share any horror stories?” you tease.

His smile fades, turning into a mock-glare. “Nah. Some things are better left in the dark, trust me.”

Jake Lockley:

Jake insists on taking you for a wild ride through the city at midnight, where the two of you watch costumed crowds roam the streets. You pull out your phone to capture the scene, but he nudges it down.

“Forget the photos,” he says, one hand resting casually on the steering wheel. “Some things, you gotta see for yourself.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, like you?”

Jake chuckles, eyes flicking to you. “Exactly.” He slows down, the car idling under a streetlight. “Want to do something that’ll really give us a thrill?”

Your eyes widen. “What do you have in mind?”

He smirks, tapping the steering wheel. “Trust me. I’ve got a few tricks.”

Anselm Vogelweide:

Anselm has his own idea of Halloween—a bit unconventional. He takes you to a dingy jazz club, far from any typical Halloween crowd. As you both settle in, he orders two drinks and raises his glass.

“To... not being anywhere near a bunch of fake monsters,” he murmurs dryly.

You clink glasses, laughing. “So, not a fan of Halloween?”

He shrugs, a faint grin pulling at his lips. “Why pretend to be something you’re not? Reality’s scarier than any costume.”

Blue Jones:

Halloween with Blue is an extravagant affair. He insists on going to an exclusive masquerade ball, and you find yourself in an elegant costume that he’s carefully chosen.

“You’re quite the mystery tonight,” you tease, as you both dance in the candlelit hall.

He smirks, his eyes glinting behind his mask. “Tonight, all eyes are on you, sweetheart.”

As you dance, he leans in close. “Tell me, do you really think anyone else here can match up to me?”

You laugh, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “You really don’t have to worry.”

“I know,” he replies smoothly, his arm tightening around your waist. “But it’s more fun to make sure.”

Poe Dameron:

Poe is all about the thrill of Halloween, and he suggests a late-night ghost tour at a supposedly haunted location. As you walk through the eerie surroundings, he stays close by, casting playful glances your way.

“Alright,” he grins, “if you see anything spooky, just scream, and I’ll heroically save you.”

You roll your eyes. “Pretty sure I could handle a ghost myself, Poe.”

He laughs. “Oh, so you’re the tough one tonight?”

“Guess so,” you reply, smirking. “Maybe I’ll be the one saving you.”

Poe’s laughter echoes in the quiet as he wraps an arm around you. “Alright, hero, lead the way. But I reserve the right to hide behind you if things get intense.”

Santiago Garcia:

Pope keeps it low-key, but he suggests exploring an old, rumored-to-be-haunted trail. Walking side by side under the moonlight, he keeps you talking, subtly checking the surroundings.

“So, what’s your take on ghosts?” he asks, giving you a sideways glance.

You shrug. “I think they’re probably out there… somewhere.”

He nods, pretending to be deep in thought. “You know, if we see one, you’ve got to be the brave one.”

You laugh. “What, the tough ex-soldier needs protection?”

“Hey, I never said I was scared,” he teases, nudging you. “Just wouldn’t want them getting in the way of our night.”

Nathan Bateman:

Nathan’s Halloween style is an intellectual one. He invites you over to his house for a horror movie marathon, accompanied by his very strong opinions on everything you watch.

During a jump scare, you flinch, and he raises an eyebrow. “Scared?”

You play it off. “No, just… surprised.”

He chuckles, leaning back. “Look, most of this stuff is laughable if you think about it. The real horror? The way humans mess with things they don’t understand.”

You smirk. “Like you?”

“Exactly,” he replies, a devilish glint in his eye. “Welcome to the scariest place of all—my mind.”

Jonathan Levy:

Jonathan is surprisingly sweet about Halloween. He plans a cozy night in with you, pumpkin carving and Halloween treats included. As he carefully carves a pumpkin, you try to match his focus but end up making a mess.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Here, let me help. You’re... definitely not doing this right.”

You hand over your pumpkin. “Fine, but don’t judge my carving skills.”

He grins, working quickly. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But next time, maybe we’ll pick something less… complicated.”

You both laugh as he finishes the pumpkin, the warm glow of the candle inside casting shadows across the room.

[dreaminofdixon]

Thirteen.

*Things are heating up, nothing too serious at the moment, but if you're underage, please...be responsible for your own media intake. :)* Okay, so adding all the Daryl insight/thoughts stuff might be a little....incorrectly done? I've never written first person with third person intermingled, so I'm sure it leaves some to be desired. BUT! I like it. And ohhhhh momma....I'm going back through and adding that all in - those that suggested I keep it up - you're the real heroes. 💖 Also - this is SO LONG.

The highway stretched out like a scar across the earth, its cracked asphalt glinting under the fading light as we took the exit Daryl had been scanning for. The motorcycle rumbled beneath us, a steady pulse that felt like the last heartbeat of a world long gone. We were heading toward whatever future waited—maybe salvation, maybe just another fight. The sun sank lower, bleeding pinks and oranges across the sky, chasing away the last traces of blue. It was beautiful in a way that hurt, like a memory you know you can’t keep. I tightened my knees around Daryl’s hips, the leather of his vest rough under my palms, and reached up to tug the hair tie from my ponytail. My hair whipped free, tangling in the wind, wild and reckless. I must’ve looked half-feral, but in that moment, I didn’t care. How often did we get to feel this alive anymore? To steal a second of freedom in a world that wanted to grind us to dust?

Daryl felt the shift in her as she moved behind him - her thighs gripping him tighter, the sudden looseness of her hair snapping in the breeze. He didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge it outright, but he noticed. Always did. Every detail: the way her fingers curled into his vest, the faint catch of her laugh barely audible over the engine’s growl. God, she’s alive, he thought, the realization hitting him like a punch. Not just surviving, not just scraping by—she was vibrant, a spark in a world gone dark. He hadn’t seen that in anyone for a long time, and it stirred something in him he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.

The bike slowed as Daryl eased it to a stop, the others pulling up behind us in a loose caravan—Rick’s SUV, the RV, a couple of battered sedans. I took the chance to rake my fingers through my hair, savoring the cool whip of the wind for one more moment before twisting it back into a messy bun. When Daryl swung the bike around, I gripped his vest tighter, steadying myself as we rolled toward Rick’s SUV.

“You thinkin’ we should call it a night,” Rick called out, leaning out the driver’s window, his voice cutting through the hum of idling engines.

“Yeah,” Daryl grunted, his voice low but sure. “Not sure anything’s ‘round here.”

“Alright, let’s do it.” Rick nodded, killing the engine with a decisive twist of the key.

Daryl guided the bike back toward the RV, the gravel crunching under the tires as he eased it to a stop and dropped the kickstand. The sudden silence felt heavy, broken only by the distant chirp of cicadas and the creak of the RV’s door.

“What’s goin’ on?” Dale’s voice carried from the RV’s window, his silhouette framed against the dim glow of a lantern inside.

“Gonna call it a night here,” I said, taking Daryl’s outstretched hand as I swung my leg over the bike. My boots hit the ground harder than I meant, and I wobbled, my legs stiff from hours of riding. 

His hand tightened briefly, steadying her just enough to keep her upright without making it a thing. He never made it a thing—never let her feel like he doubted she could handle herself. But part of him just needed that touch—to feel that she was okay, that she was here.

We moved as a group, muscle memory kicking in as we cleared the abandoned cars scattered along the roadside. Headlights cast long shadows, turning rusted fenders and shattered windshields into jagged silhouettes. Every creak of metal, every rustle in the underbrush, set my nerves on edge, but the routine was familiar: check for walkers, secure the perimeter, make a space to breathe for one more night. By the time we finished, the sky had deepened to a bruised purple, stars prickling through the haze.

We gathered beside the RV, the air thick with the scent of dust and pine. Carol and Lori passed out the last of our supplies—strips of jerky, a few dented cans of vegetables. I perched on the hood of a dusty sedan, the metal cool against my thighs, and stared down at the can of corn in my hand. My stomach churned at the thought of eating it cold, the kernels glistening like pale teeth in the moonlight. It felt… wrong, like biting into a raw potato or something. I sighed, setting the can aside and reaching for the jerky instead, its smoky tang a small comfort.

Around me, the group murmured in low tones, their voices blending with the rustle of leaves. I glanced at them—Rick’s tense shoulders, Lori’s careful smile, Glenn’s quick laugh—and felt a pang of gratitude, sharp and fleeting. We were still here, still fighting. But the weight of the day pressed down on me, and I slid off the hood, grabbing my can of corn and heading toward the car I’d claimed for the night. As I walked, a thin curl of smoke caught my eye, rising from the bed of a pickup parked a little ways off. I grinned, spotting the faint glow of a cigarette. Daryl. If I weren’t half-convinced he’d skin me for it, I’d have tried to sneak up and scare him, just to see that rare flash of a smile.

“Hey, stud,”  I called softly, approaching the truck.

He looked relaxed, sprawled in the truck bed like he belonged there. His crossbow rested within arm’s reach, but his posture was loose—knees bent, one foot planted, hands folded over his stomach, cigarette dangling from his lips. The moonlight carved sharp angles across his face, catching the scruff on his jaw and the faint lines etched around his eyes. He looked up, ifting his chin in a lazy greeting.

“Princess,” he drawled, voice rough like gravel.

“Hold this,” I said, passing him the can of corn.

He took it without comment, his fingers brushing mine for a split second. I climbed over the tailgate, settling beside him against the back of the truck, my knees bent and my hands resting lightly on my thighs. He handed the can back, and we sat there, the silence wrapping around us like a worn blanket. The air smelled of rust and tobacco, undercut by the faint sweetness of wild honeysuckle growing somewhere nearby.

Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye, her presence settling into the space like it belonged. She was close—too close, maybe—but he didn’t move away. Couldn’t. She was like gravity, pulling at something deep in his chest, something he hadn’t let himself feel in years. He’d spent so long pushing people back, keeping them at arm’s length, but her? She slipped past his walls like they were nothing. Always had.

“Long day,” I said, breaking the quiet.

“Mm.” He nodded, holding the cigarette out toward me, an offer.

“No, thank you.”

He glanced over his shoulder, one brow quirking slightly. “Don’t smoke?”

“Nope.”

He hummed, taking another drag and turning back to the sky, like it didn’t matter. But it did. Every damn thing about her mattered—her voice, her laugh, the way she sat there, unafraid of the silence. He felt it all, and it scared the hell out of him.

“You look comfy,” I said, nudging his leg with my boot. “This where you’re stayin’ tonight?”

“Nah. Jus’ for a minute.”

“Time to relax a little?”

“Mm hmm.”

Her voice was soft, weaving through the quiet without breaking it. He liked that—how she didn’t demand anything, just let the moment be. The cicadas sang in the distance, their chorus rising and falling like a pulse. The air was cooling, carrying the first whispers of fall, and for a second, he could almost pretend the world wasn’t falling apart.

“Thanks for lettin’ me ride with you,” I said, a teasing lilt creeping into my voice. “It was a pleasure gettin’ you between my legs all day…”

He glanced over, the corner of his mouth twitching before he looked away, quick. Goddamn woman. Always poking at him, testing him. He snorted, fighting the smile tugging at his lips. She had no idea what she did to him—how she threw him off balance just by existing. He felt like a kid again, all nerves and heat, trying not to stare at her too long.

“How was it?” he asked, his voice low, rougher than he meant.

“Not bad,” I said, leaning closer, my hip brushing his shoulder. “Although… I could use a little more… hands-on.”

His chest tightened, the air catching in his throat. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke toward the stars, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. Jesus. She was gonna kill him, talking like that. He shook his head, muttering, “Ya got yer hands all over me, woman. What more ya want?”

“I’m talkin’ about your hands on me, sir.”

He froze, his breath hitching before he masked it with a cough. He didn’t know how to answer that—not without giving too much away. Not without admitting how much he wanted to touch her, to pull her close and feel her heartbeat against his. She was dangerous, not because of walkers or weapons, but because she made him want things he’d buried long ago. He liked her too much—her teasing, her warmth, the way she looked at him like he was more than a rough-edged survivor. But letting her in? That was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

I let the silence stretch, remembering that old psychology trick: don’t fill the space just because it’s uncomfortable. Let them come to you. I tilted my head back, gazing at the sky. The stars glittered like scattered diamonds, sharp and bright against the velvet dark. The cicadas’ song wove through the breeze, carrying hints of cooler days to come. My heart was racing, but I kept still, waiting.

His fingers brushed my ankle, the skin that peeked out from the hem of my jeans. They were hesitant at first, then settled there. His thumb moved in a slow, careful arc across my skin, warm and calloused. Then, just as suddenly, his hand stilled, like he’d caught himself—like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me at all.

He hadn’t meant to. He’d fought the urge all day, keeping his hands busy with the bike, the knife, anything to distract him. But sitting there, the space between them alive with something unspoken, he gave in. Her skin was soft, warm, and his thumb moved before he could stop it. He knew he should pull back, tell himself it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything, and that scared him more than any walker ever would.

I held my breath, afraid that even the smallest sound would break the spell. His touch was electric, sending sparks through me, my pulse hammering in my throat. Don’t be that girl, I scolded myself. Don’t make it all about the physical. But God, I couldn’t help it. After years of loneliness, of keeping everyone at arm’s length, that simple touch felt like a lifeline.

He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes fixed on the sky, but I could feel him—every shift, every breath. I’d gotten used to this, to him. To the way we could sit together, not saying much, but saying everything. My attraction to him had started as something shallow—those sharp cheekbones, that quiet strength—but it had grown into something deeper, a full-blown ache that followed me everywhere. I wanted to be near him, to find excuses to talk, to learn every piece of him. Did he feel it too? I hoped so, but hope was a dangerous thing these days.

His fingers tightened briefly, then loosened, his thumb still brushing my skin. With his other hand, he plucked the cigarette from his lips, crushing the ember between his fingers before tossing it over the side of the truck. The gesture was so him—careful, deliberate, like he didn’t trust even the smallest spark to linger.

We sat there as the light faded, the world sinking into darkness. The moon rose, silver and cold, casting shadows across the truck bed. His hand stayed on my ankle, that slow, steady touch anchoring me. I was already dreading the moment it would end, knowing the dark brought danger—walkers, shadows, things that didn’t care about stolen moments.

Daryl’s chest rose with a slow breath, his exhale barely audible, like he was fighting to keep himself steady. He was thinking about her—too much, too deeply. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if this fragile thing between them shattered before it could take root? He’d survived a lot, but he wasn’t sure he could survive that.

His hand slid away, the warmth vanishing, but not before his fingers brushed my skin one last time, like he was reluctant to let go. He sat up abruptly, clearing his throat. “Should get ya tucked in,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. His eyes avoided hers, darting to the horizon, the truck bed, anywhere else. Because if he looked at her, he might say something he couldn’t take back. Might reach for her and not stop. And he wasn’t sure if she was ready—or even if he was.

I reached for his hand, clasping it between both of mine as he pulled me up. The motion was too quick, and I stumbled, my body crashing into his. He didn’t budge, solid as stone, and I gasped softly at the sudden closeness. His breath hitched, his eyes dropping to my lips, my throat, before he caught himself. His tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip, and I saw the struggle in his face—wanting, holding back.

“Sorry,” I murmured, stepping back, my cheeks burning.

The air between us felt alive, charged with everything we weren’t saying. Then a low, guttural groan cut through the night—a walker, close. We both snapped toward the sound, the moment shattered. Daryl vaulted over the tailgate, his knife already in hand. The walker was alone, its decayed face grotesque in the moonlight. He drove the blade into its skull with a practiced thrust, the body crumpling to the ground. He wiped the knife on the walker’s tattered shirt, his movements quick and precise, before turning back to me.

I was already climbing over the tailgate, ready to jump down, but he was there, his hand outstretched. I took it, his grip steady as he helped me to the ground. The contact lingered for a heartbeat longer than it needed to.

“C’mon, Princess,” he said, letting go and nodding toward the car I’d chosen for the night.

We walked in silence, the gravel crunching under our boots. When we reached the car, I opened the door and slid inside, pulling the blanket over my legs. Daryl stood at the door, his head on a swivel, scanning the shadows for threats.

“Good?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Mm hmm.”

“Lock the door. Get some sleep.”

“I’ll try… you too, okay?”

He started to close the door, but I reached out, stopping it. “What?”

“Be safe.”

“Always am.”

He shut the door, the click loud in the quiet. I locked it, settling back against the seat, the blanket scratchy but warm. Through the window, I watched his silhouette linger for a moment, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, his posture tense but steady.

He stood there longer than he meant to, her words echoing in his head. Be safe. Like he was more than a survivor, more than a weapon. Like he mattered to her. The thought burned, sweet and painful, and he hated how much he wanted to believe it. His eyes lingered on her shape in the car, curled under the blanket, safe for now. He wanted to be the one to keep her that way, but that meant letting her in, and he wasn’t sure he knew how.

Finally, he turned, forcing his boots to move. The night was dark, the walkers were out there, and he had a job to do. But her voice followed him, soft and stubborn, refusing to let go.

**

@imadisneyprincessiswear

@knight-of-the-doctor **

[memento-morianon]

orc names and titles

finally gave name titles and full name translations to all my orc characters! yaaay.

Orcish name titles come in a few varieties. One word titles for common orcs. Two word titles for nobility or anyone who has performed a Great Deed. They're given during one's adult years, as a sign that the individual has truly come into their own self. It's based on some defining personal trait, skill, or notable actions. These name titles are also useful in tracking historical figures in orcish stories and legends.

Clan Founder Ka'ar (great voice) [Herald of Courage] Ashalen-Kit'aer

He'esh (forest) [Raven's Voice] Khar-Takran

Elkha (promise) [Wolf's Cunning] K'anresh-Arik

At'ali (blade wielder) [Thunder Heart] Kith-Rokar

Rokar (thunder) [Crimson Tusk] K'at-Langash

Ikar (new voice) [Hears like a Wolf] Roth-Arik Ikar's Wife,

Urzu (keen eye) [Mother Blessed] Sh'oren-Aneru

Th'elir (beautiful) [Swift Tusk] K'at-Lis

Senik (honor) [Traitor's Bane] Taun-Ashikar

T'oren (pulls forward) [Hero of the Wildfire] At'eruken-Hathok

K'arik (wolf voice) [Raven's Wisdom] Aresh-Takran

Kith (heart) [the Persistent] Ak'ani

Artuk (waterfall) [the Bloody] Langash

detailed explanations under the cut

Clan Founder Ka'ar Ashalen-Kit'aer, Herald of Courage. Ka'ar was born in the northern orc clan which is stubbornly and rather disrespectfully located so close to the centaur territory that it puts a visible dent in the border on every map. Ka'ar also lived during the years of the goblin revolution, a global conflict that resulted in a greater expansion of "personhood" and equality. Ka'ar spoke out against their own ancestors and their clan leaders, shaming them for failing their promise to leave the centaur lands and for continuing to be idle and selfish while the goblins were struggling for equality. Ka'ar's declaration that they would rather die alone doing what's right than sit back surrounded by comfort and family stirred the hearts of many who didn't have the courage to speak out on their own. Ka'ar lead those people southward to establish a new clan and lend aid to the goblins in their revolution.

Rokar K'at-Langash, Crimson Tusk. Rokar was a direct descendant of Ka'ar, and shared his ancestor's furious passion, but not for the same reasons. Rokar dedicated himself to violence. He was a skilled hunter and duelist, and he had no mercy for his opponents. As an adult, he never lost a duel. As crown prince of his clan, he decided to handle the problem of limited resources by planning to conquer the lands around his people. He died as he lived, with blood on his tusks.

He'esh Khar-Takran, Raven's Voice. The takran is not truly a raven, but another species of large corvid that resembles a vulture. Raven works well enough for an English translation. The takran is associated with death, guidance, and magic, especially spiritual magic. they are known to lead hunters of any species to carrion or live prey, just so they can have a share. The word takran means "bird who guides death/the dead". He'esh was a dedicated student of magic. He was very faithful to his religion as well. He'esh is best known publicly for his accomplishments as a diplomat. He was a powerful speaker, like his ancestor, and he relied on his public speaking skills to gain allies and friends, bringing his clan properly into the country that had been established around them by other people. He was the polar opposite to his older brother Rokar, and no one ever suspected him when Rokar suddenly died in a terrible hunting accident. Dire elk are so strong, you know, hunting them in close quarters during the rutting season is just risky.

Elkha K'anresh-Arik, Wolf's Cunning. Elkha was deaf, and the younger of two sisters. She cleverly spread rumors to convince the clan's head family to overlook her older sister and pick her instead as a wife for their younger son. She did it to protect her older sister, who had a secret lover, but she also did it to put herself in a more strategic position. Like a mother wolf directing the pack to surround, isolate, and take down a dire elk, Elkha carefully worked out the best ways to get rid of corrupt leaders who were obstacles to her ambitions. She helped He'esh plan and execute his brother's assassination and make it look like a believable accident. She prevented the remaining corrupt leaders and sycophants from plotting anything after Rokar's death, ousting them from the clan by baiting them into revealing themselves so He'esh could banish them, or goading them to fight each other or even baiting them into dueling her, only if she was sure she would win. While He'esh was a great speaker on his own, Elkha also organized the people with more than words, erasing the residual corruption and de-escalating the conflicts Rokar had been stirring up with their non-orc neighbors. She won the war by making sure it never started.

At'ali Kith-Rokar, Thunder Heart. At'ali was He'esh's cousin. She was in a position to be married to someone important in another clan, perhaps even the northern clan her ancestors originated from. But instead, she found herself connecting with and falling for a gnomish man. The southern clan had lost its way over the generations and become more isolated and restrictive. The orcs and the gnomes also still carried a mutual grudge against each other for the messy history of their ancestors and the wars with the centaurs. Regardless, At'ali fell in love and decided to speak up and push back against clan laws in order to defend her love. She was willing to die fighting Rokar just to prove her point. He'esh prevented this by suggesting banishment instead, allowing her to live and be happy with her gnomish lover and start a new family of her own. She only forgave him on her deathbed, long after he usurped the crown and undid her banishment. Most of her own descendants are still reluctant to interact with the orcs, still carrying At'ali's passion and righteous fury as a family grudge.

Ikar Roth-Arik, he who Listens like a Wolf. Ikar was born to He'esh and Elkha, but legally kidnapped by the infertile Rokar who laid claim to his own brother's firstborn since he could have no direct heirs of his own. Ikar was still visited by his birth parents frequently, and they took him back after Rokar died. As a result, Ikar did grow up more with his true birth parents, and he did learn most of his life skills from them, but Rokar's influence stuck with him throughout the years. Ikar became very sociable and connected well with people, like a wolf in a pack. He was praised for his ability to listen to people, hear out their complaints, and work with them to fix their problems. But after he was married to a woman in the northern clan, a diplomatic move to repair an old wound, he ended up listening a little too well to the wrong people. There were still orcs in the northern clan who believed themselves to be above other people, who still complained of the centaurs taking their ancestral lands, and who believed warriors were far superior to scholars or anyone who relied on spiritual magic. Ikar listened to them, and he kept listening. He later disrespected his own family so cruelly that he was disowned and banished.

Urzu Sh'oren-Aneru, Mother Blessed. Urzu was Ikar's wife. She actually outranked him in the northern clan, as a spiritual leader. She was born with the odd genetic hormonal condition that causes the growth of at least one pair of vestigial mammary glands, giving her an extra set of breasts. This is considered a blessing from the ancestral matriarchs and a sign of inherent spiritual strength. Ikar used to respect his wife and her position in the clan. She's still not sure when exactly he crossed the line and began to act so dismissive of her role and her power.

Th'elir K'at-Lis, Swift Tusk. Th'elir is the second child of He'esh and Elkha. She takes after her uncle Rokar in terms of skill and strength as a fighter, but where he was merciless and brutal, Th'elir is decisive. She only fights when she needs to, and she calculates it out before delivering a quick, solid blow. The sort of attack that leaves an opponent gasping in shock, knowing very well that they could have died just then. But Th'elir is not so keen on killing without good reason. She always lets her opponent see how easily she could have killed them, so they know they're only alive because she decided to let them live. Her own brother, Ikar, can certainly vouch for her terrifying speed and precision, even when she's past her prime.

Senik Taun-Ashikar, Traitor's Bane. Senik is the youngest of He'esh and Elkha's children. Like his mother, he is deaf. Like his father, he prefers scholarly pursuits over warrior training. He'll leave the fighting to others. Senik joined his father to aid with diplomatic missions in his younger days, especially when He'esh was trying to gain an alliance with the dwarves. The dwarves had their own problems, so it was difficult to work with them sometimes. There was even a rebel faction that was so against having a diplomatic relationship with the orcs that they tried to poison their own leaders just to blame it on He'esh and Senik. Senik, however, intelligent and observant, caught the plan before it harmed anyone, and prevented a great tragedy. His actions earned him and his father the trust of the dwarves and allowed them to secure that alliance.

T'oren At'eruken-Hathok, Hero of the Wildfire. T'oren is Th'elir's eldest son. He is the crown prince in charge of more local politics. T'oren originally had a different name title praising his skills as an organized leader. But he proved those skills even more when a terribly dry and hot summer created the perfect conditions for dangerously large wildfires in the region. T'oren acted quickly, organizing the clan and working with their neighbors to get people to safety and protect as many homes as possible. He got directly involved in the action himself, and still bears the scars from embers that fell on his skin. Though the wildfires only contributed to a bigger problem later on, as there were less supplies and stored food to get through a particularly harsh winter that followed after the fires, T'oren was given a new name title to honor his heroic actions.

K'arik Aresh-Takran, Raven's Wisdom. K'arik is T'oren's younger brother. He is also deaf like their grandmother Elkha and their uncle Senik. Like his grandfather He'esh, K'arik has honed his skills in spiritual magic, earning him the takran title. He is also a crown prince alongside his brother, which is a break from tradition. K'arik carries on He'esh's external diplomatic work. He cannot speak the way his grandfather did, but he doesn't need to. K'arik is humble and wise, patient and thoughtful. He is fully aware of the dangers of pride, having watched his uncle Ikar go from a skilled diplomat to an angry fool after letting the wrong people get into his head. No one is immune to praise, pressure, or threats. With this understanding, K'arik approaches diplomacy with caution and care, always taking the time to study a situation and get to know as much of the truth as possible before making any final decisions.

Kith Ak'ani, the Persistent. Kith is a commoner, so she only gets one word in her name title. Kith has ambitions. I haven't figured out what those ambitions are, but she has risen beyond her station to become good friends with K'arik, a prince. She has married a dwarven woman of rather high status, and she is now pregnant with a child sired by K'arik's dear platonic companion and third cousin, Evarin. All to position herself higher, for some goal she's keeping to herself. What does she want? She grew up in a time of peace in her clan, in a country that has strong support systems for its people. But there she is, pursuing her goals with all the gumption, patience, and endurance of a bobcat that's decided to stalk a dire elk until it collapses from exhaustion, even while surrounded by abundant smaller and easier prey.

Artuk Langash, the Bloody. Why is the owner of a tavern and brothel named "the Bloody"? He'll never tell. He grew up in a time of peace and economic stability, in the very peak of He'esh's leadership. And yet. Here he is. On the older side of middle aged, running The Devious Drake alongside his drow co-owner and platonic lover, Rain. And his name title, which is supposed to reflect some defining personal trait or action, is "the Bloody". Well, at least it's good fodder for gossip in the worker's lounge of The Devious Drake.

[ash-says]

I think your page speaks volumes about the way you’ve perceived and endured life and I’m sorry you haven’t had the time or opportunity to soak up the good things that are all around you, I hope you develop skills that allow your success to be built off of things that are good and pure and not cheap manipulation tactics and lies

Devil may care: A guide on being unbothered.

Okay, and??

Sweetheart, I really appreciate your unwanted sympathies and illusionary sensitivity directed towards me. In our culture when someone is being sweet, kind and helpful (even if fake) we make sure that we pay them back with something valuable. Here's a small guide curated for you that will help you in being self secure so you won't feel threatened by other people's success and opinions.

1) Have a life:

Nothing screams idle to me more than this. Like you have time to be offended by someone's post and comments which you might just scroll by and ignore?? On top of that going above and beyond to let that person know. Okay, Sushma. Now log off and do the pending coursework.

2) Build genuine confidence:

Ladies, fake it till you make it can only go this far. You have to work on your underlying issues and address them. If you don't you are susceptible to triggering even by a mere stranger. Confident people don't need to go above and beyond to prove other people. They embody it.

3) Self awareness:

It's tiring to explain this. Just Google it at this point. This word is thrown like a football everywhere. You know it. Do the homework.

4) Practice self compassion and boundaries:

Negative feedback is part and parcel of life. Accept it, analyse and if it applies adopt or otherwise ignore. Boundaries are important to understand the difference between constructive criticism and disrespect.

If disrespected don't be afraid to put a bitch in place. Until then shut your mouth and concentrate on your goals.

5) Opinions are subjective:

Everyone has their own life experiences and opinions are formed based on those. Your Roman Empire might be different from your friends but does it mean it's invalid? No. Develop empathy and open-mindedness. Not everyone has the same views. It's okay.

6) Develop a thick skin:

You can't survive in this world if you are triggered by the tiniest of things. You have to be comfortable in being painted both as a hero and as a villain. Don't let others opinion get to your head. Owe to yourself that I will stand in my truth thou glory or disgrace.

7) Reflect a rbf stance:

When someone tries to belittle you, try to put you down, talk shit about you. Your body language should be cold and reserved with a rbf that screams intimidation but all you are going to say is Okay, and??

8) Master Sarcasm:

I have said this before and I will say it again. Revenge is a dish best served cold. Sarcasm is the ice in it. Ladies learn sarcasm. It's the one way ticket to put people in their place in a humorous way.

9) Be classy. Be polite. BE UNTOUCHABLE.

Who do you think will be named as the crazy one? The one who is screaming and belittling someone or the one who is still being polite but discreetly showing the person where they belong. Never resort to screaming and shouting. That's dumb. Second never go out of your way to prove how you are relevant. Take it or leave it mentality.

10) Seek professional help:

Even after all of this you are not able to practice being unbothered. I think a therapist is the best solution for you.

P.S. :Ladies, this is what I mean when I say leverage the fuck out of your connections and opportunities. This is how you turn a negative into a positive.

Plus I am petty enough to not let this disrespect slide but thought it would be a good content idea for my posts, isn't it??

That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.

[spawnofbhaal]

Some speculation re: Solas and his role in the story, based on what we know from that article:

I think he somehow becomes trapped either in the Fade prison where the Evanuris previously were (which would be very bad since it's full of Blight) or in the new one where he planned to move them (which hopefully isn't Blighted, but . . .)

So unfortunately I don't think he will be visually in the Lighthouse while we are using it. I think the Lighthouse is definitely in the Crossroads, not the Fade. I'd love to be wrong about him not being there in person, but IMO they are keeping Solas off the board for the beginning of the game (because he is too powerful to be a player while Rook gets established). I think he will be an advisor of sorts and will help guide Rook from the Fade.

However, I don't think he is going to be sitting idle. There are multiple elven tales where Fen'Harel escapes a trap, either by "chewing off his own tail" or by pitting his enemies against each other. IMO this stuff is foreshadowing that he will indeed escape at some point, but at a cost (giving up some of his power? becoming Blighted? We still don't know if the knife he was using in the ritual is the lyrium idol or if that's something still to come).

I also don't think Solas is going to be perfectly aligned with Rook. At the start of the game they have to work together, but Solas' goals remain and he doesn't have any reason to particularly like Rook (yet). Solas spent a year with the Inquisition, even potentially befriending the Inquisitor or falling deeply in love, and still left to pursue his goal and has spent the last 10 years doing so. While I think Rook's relationship with him will be important like the Inquisitor's is, I don't think Rook is going to change his mind by themselves just because they can (maybe) speak telepathically. There is going to have to be more to it, and I think the Inquisitor's relationship with Solas will play into how open Solas is to Rook's influence.

(Also to really speculate I've seen Solas fans who playtested the first part of the game express anxiety about redemption, which signals to me that he does something naughty at some point instead of being a stable ally, lol. Hopefully it isn't killing Varric, but IMO it's more likely he tries to sacrifice Rook like a chess piece at some point. I'm 100% a Solas redemption truther, but I don't think it will be simple or easy like he's suddenly just toothless).

So, while I think the Evanuris will be the main villains to defeat, I also think Solas will dance between ally and antagonist throughout much of the game. He is a trickster/anti-hero/anti-villain character, after all. The mid-game is always a great point in terms of story beats for the protagonist to have a major setback (like Haven to an extent, Spellhold in BG2, Act 3 in Rogue Trader, etc.) so I look forward to seeing what happens then and how the story pivots.

[dcdreamblog]

(QSandA)

Did he ever have any team ups with other “kid” sidekicks back in the day, like Dyna-Mite and Stuff? I know there were the Young All-Stars, but it’s pretty amazing there wasn’t a closer equivalent to the Teen Titans

Sandy: It just kind of wasn't in our nature back in the day

Me: What wasn't?

S: The kind of...independence, or teenage rebellion that prompted the formation of groups like the Titans

M: Really?

S: Sure, the IDEA of the teenager wouldn't even really take hold until after the war as a distinct category. Back then we were "wards" thought of by others and by ourselves as closer to children then young adults.

M: So you never had the idea to step out on your own?

S: I mean I guess we did. Of course we worked together a lot. Hell we spent a lot of our downtime getting through our homework together when the adults were talking but the idea of fully splitting off from our mentors to go it alone? Never came to us.

M: He mentions the Young All-Stars

S: The Young All-Stars were created because the Squadron ended up with a lot of young stragglers who didn't HAVE mentors like we did to guide them. We were added on as guidance more than anything.

M: Most of the Young All Stars were older than you sidekicks were.

S: That they were. Sidekicks tended between 12 to 15. The Young All Stars were all around 16-21 or thereabouts, on the upper end of that curve even.

M: You've spoken about feeling some rivalry?

S: Of course. I mean, we were handpicked by the greatest heroes in the world, they were just ruffians who kept wandering off. There was some idle classism in it I suppose but it was kid stuff, never got in the way.

M: And he mentions Dan specifically.

S: Dan...spent 43-45 in a half daze. He lost his mentor, lost the person he looked up to most in the world, lost...the sparkle in his eye I guess. He certainly didn't want to put some bold new foot forward especially if it was going to be framed as him stepping OUT from under TNT's very long, very heavy shadow.

M: So you stuck close to the net?

S: We did, we did. Honestly I'm glad. Thinking about it now, after I've lost him. Wasting time with Wes on teenage rebellion would have left me with a lot more regrets.

[momhwa1117]

HELLOOOO..... IT'S MEEEEE RUHI~~

(courtesy to @under-the-purple-starsss for the name)

I like RAIN..COFFEE...CATS..AND....

╰⁠(⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠ᗜ⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠)⁠➝ BOOKS:

I usually read almost every genre of books..maybe not non-fiction...read two books found out not my cup of coffee...

I mostly enjoy reading fantasy,romance and crime thrillers...and recently have been digging into dystopian books a lot.

MY FAVOURITE BOOKS TILL NOW

KING OF WRATH

THE SECRET HISTORY

BOOK THIEF

THE CRUEL PRINCE TRILOGY

THE EMPYREAN SERIES

THE INHERITANCE GAMES

GOOD GIRL'S GUIDE TO MURDER

FINAL OFFER

ONE DARK WINDOW

HOW TO KILL MEN AND GET AWAY WITH IT

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

EMMA

WELCOME TO HYUNAM-DONG BOOKSHOP

TENDER IS THE FLESH

ANIMAL FARM

THE NATURALS SERIES

SILENT PATIENT

╰⁠(⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠ᗜ⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠)⁠➝KPOP:

I got into K-pop back in 2019...KILL THIS LOVE BY BLACKPINK being my first song (actually Gangnam Style but when I heard it I had no idea it was k-pop )

I USED TO BE A MULTI STAN BUT NOW I DON'T THINK I CAN BE THAT WHEN MY ULT GROUP IS GAYTEEZ I MEAN... ATEEZ

GIRLGROUPS I STAN

TWICE

DREAMCATCHER

BLACKPINK

(G)- IDLE

As for Boy group.... it's

I love everyone in Ateez...but might be a little too much HWA BIASED....(not my fault have you seen him)

ฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅ

GROUPS I LIKE TO LISTEN AT CERTAIN TIMES :

SEVENTEEN

P1HARMONY

GOT7

STRAY KIDS

MONSTA X

NCT

EVERGLOW

BABYMONSTER

AESPA

TXT

ITZY

KARD

ENHYPEN

KISS OF LIFE

OTHER ARTISTS WHOM I LIKE LISTENING TO ARE EMEI,NATALIE JANE,IU,XG,SOFIA ISELLA,I.M and few more whose name I can't just remember rn

╰⁠(⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠ᗜ⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠)⁠➝ MANHWA/MANGA/WEBTOON:

I have read quite a lot of manhwas compared to webtoons and manga My favourite manga would be MY DEAREST SELF WITH MALICE AFORETHOUGHT

FAVOURITE MANHWAS/WEBTOONS

BEWARE THE VILLAINESS

GET SCHOOLED

THE VILLAINESS TURNS THE HOURGLASS

SOLO LEVELING

I'M THE MAX LEVEL NEWBIE

DEATH IS THE ONLY ENDING FOR THE VILLAINESS

MY REASON TO DIE

PYRAMID GAME

PURPLE HYACINTH

MUSE ON FAME

THE PRINCESS IMPRINTS THE TRAITOR

SIGRID

LOVE ADVICE FROM THE DUKE OF HELL

I WILL BE THE MATRIARCH THIS TIME

ISN'T BEING A WICKED WOMAN MUCH BETTER

MY IN-LAWS ARE OBSESSED WITH ME

MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN BY CHANCE

COUPLE BREAKER

KILL THE VILLAINESS

MONSTER DUCHESS' ADOPTED DAUGHTER

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

MANAGER KIM

HERO KILLER

YOUR THRONE

SECOND LIFE OF A TRASH PRINCESS

CHARMING THE DUKE OF NORTH

EMPEROR HUNT

CALL ME MASTER

PLEASE DON'T COME TO THE VILLAINESS' STATIONARY SHOP

ON MY WAY TO MEET MOM

OMNISCIENT READER'S VIEWPOINT

THE MAN'S GAMES

WHITE BLOOD

THE BOXER

HECTOPASCAL

APOCALYPSE ROMANCE

I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU

WHAT KIND OF RICE CAKE IS THIS?

MAO DAILY

FROGGY

THE KI SISTERS

JUST TWILIGHT

RANDOM INFO: I am not allowed to watch kdramas...but I did watch few secretly..my favourite kdramas are A BUSINESS PROPOSAL...AND THE GLORY.. My favourite manhwa author would be JEONG JI HOON

I also like watching anime...(now this I am very much allowed)...my favourite anime is probably A3! ACT! ADDICT!ACTORS!...I have lots of favourites...but if I had to choose it would be this or maybe THE MASTERFUL CAT IS DEPRESSED TODAY...cz YUKICHI>>>>>> I AM ALSO VERY MUCH OBSESSED (it is a concerning one) WITH ALIEN STAGE..LINK CLICK AND MILGRAM PRISON

Currently listening on loop:

☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎

☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎*.☁︎︎

[lucyav13]

Super Dimentio

(A/N: Credits of the art to: @snuffydoo her art is amazing!)

Super Dimentio, is a gargantuan clown-like puppet monster that serves as the final boss of Super Paper Mario. It was created through a fusion of Mr. L (after Luigi was brainwashed again), Dimentio, and the Chaos Heart. 

He also possesses an ability similar to the Pal Pill item, in that, should he be provoked by guarding techniques, Super Dimentio will create several grunts in the form of 8-bit Luigis. They run and jump in the direction the player was when they were summoned, although they are incredibly weak enemies that die if they hit anything, including the walls surrounding the arena.

(A/N: In all the times I've played, I have never had that attack, Can someone tell me how it is activated or something like that?)

Despite Super Dimentio being the final boss, Shadoo (with the heroes' dark clones' HP added altogether) is stronger than Super Dimentio; additionally, Brobot has higher health and has the same defense as Super Dimentio on the body. The Dark Muth also has higher HP and attack power, although Super Dimentio has significantly higher defense on the body and was even invincible at the start of the battle. Once he can be damaged, there are ways to avoid an arduous battle, such as using Slim to hide from attacks, or simply jumping onto Super Dimentio's shoulders when he extends his neck and remain there, safe from most attacks and persistently jumping with good timing until he is defeated.

 (A/N: Checking out this fact, it's true! Brobot's health is 255 HP, and Super Dimentio's is 200! What the...)

Additional information:

Catch Card: 196

Max HP: 200

Attack: 6                                

Defense: 0 (head), 4 (body)

Score: 9990

Card description: This monstrous clown was created by Dimentio. He used Luigi and the Chaos Heart to create it. In the end, it was no match for the power of love.

Tattle: That’s Super Dimentio, a freakish blend of Dimentio, the Chaos Heart, and Luigi... That monstrous body has immense power... Max HP is 200. Attack is 6. Concentrate attacks to the head. You’ll have to climb those platforms to reach the head to attack. This is truly the final battle... Winning is the only option...

Fun facts: 

Super Dimentio's stance resembles Mario or Luigi's idle stance from Super Mario Bros. and Super Mario Bros.: The Lost Levels.

Super Dimentio is the only final boss in the Paper Mario series who is not associated with monarchy. (A/N: What do kings and queens have against him?)

According to the InterNed, the battle theme of Super Dimentio is called "The Ultimate Show," and is composed of Dimentio, Mr. L and the Chaos Heart's themes remixed together, though a majority of the theme's motifs are from Dimentio's theme.

In the 'Super Paper Mario Player's Guide', Super Dimentio is referred as Mr. L/Dimentio.

(A/N: Finally, one last announcement: the next part of Super Paper Mario Researches is going to be the last one. More details in the next part.)

[despairat6oclock]

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯 𝔄𝔱 6'𝔬𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨'𝔰 𝔉𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱!

Hello!

Here is a not so short list of things I'm currently into!

This also doubles as my list of things I'll ramble, write, chat or even theorize about!

Cheers ฅ^._.^ฅ

Video Games:

GTA Franchise

Call of Duty Franchise (specifically Black Ops 1 & 2 and the MW 2019)

Red Dead Redemption 1 & 2

TellTale Walking Dead Series

Scarface: The World is Yours

FNAF Franchise

Minecraft

Mortal Kombat

Love and DeepSpace

Postal

ManHunt

Bully

DuskWood

Fallout Franchise

Halo Franchise

Danganronpa

And so much more, I'm a video game nerd haha!

Kpop:

BTS

Stray Kids

TXT

Monsta X

Got7

Ateez

Enhypen

Itzy

BlackPink

Asepa

G - idle

Twice

New Jeans

EXO

NCT (127)

Not really kpop but DPR, Dabin, Jackson Wang, Lay, WayV

And am also open for recommendations!

YouTubers:

George Clarke

Arthur TV

Arthur Hill

James Marriott

Willine

Memeulous

ChrisMD

Italian bach

Angryginge13

TheBurntChip

Danny Gonzalez

Drew Gooden

Chad Chad

Jarvis Johnson

DarkViperau

And so much more, I'm chronically online

Shows / Animes:

The Walking Dead

Death Note

Fruits Basket

My Hero Academia

Erased (anime)

Saiki K

Glee

The Vampire Diaries

Pretty Little Liars

Almost any terrible TLC-esque show

Book Series:

Harry Potter

Twilight

Crave

Shatter Me

Cruel Prince

A Good Girls Guide to Murder

Tokyo Ghoul

The Walking Dead Comics

And actually so many more, I love reading

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

Living on a Prayer! Chapter 1

Most of this is going to be on AO3. But here's the first chapter.

When strange energies over Italy and Greece are caught on the Watchtower sensors. Diana is sent back to Themyscira to consult with her mother about the events. It turns out that while she was running around space with the Justice League A LOT happened. And while normally she would do anything to protect the Demigods of Camp Half-Blood from the chaos of the mortal world, with Batman sniffing around, things might just be coming to head…This could get messy.

"What?!" Diana screamed, and the warriors around her flinched. But her mother unbending and unyielding simply twitched in displeasure and said, 

"Are you really that surprised daughter? The world of the gods does not cease simply because you are not here to perceive it. Your fascination with the world of man has blinded you—" 

"Mother!" Diana began in anger, but after taking a calming breath said, "Mother, please. Let us not retread those old wounds. The world of men needed me, as they needed us of old. They still need me, and so I will not turn away from them or the sacred duty bestowed upon us and our sisters. But that does not mean I wished to be separated from our people! Our world! They are children , Mother! As our representative to the outside, I should have been told! I could have helped!" 

"And how would you have helped?" Hippolyta said, and Diana was slightly disturbed by the exhaustion she heard in her mother, "They are the children of the gods. And their fates are the will of the gods. The Fates have dictated their destiny, and ours is to come when called, and you were not! Would you have meddled in a prophecy that did not concern you? Are you arrogant enough to believe you can challenge fate itself? Would you have really endangered everything and everyone, including those children simply for your own moral satisfaction?”

Diana sighed and lowered her head. Her mother was right, as always. Bad things happened when mortals attempted to decipher prophecies in haste. Then again, bad things happened around prophecies in general. Ignore them, suffering would come. Attempt to prevent them, suffering would come. They had long since learned to simply go where instructed and pray that it was the right choice. Still, it grated against everything within Diana, Princess of Themyscira, to know that her world had been in the hands of seven children, and she had not been there to help and guide them.  

However, there was nothing she could do to change the past. And she wasn’t there for that anyways. She was there for the future. So she lifted her head and met Hippolyta’s hardened gaze with matching eyes and said, 

“The Justice League has taken notice. And what happened in the skies above Rome and Athens is not something they will ignore. Nor can we ask them to.”

Hippolyta narrowed her gaze at her daughter. “You would break our sacred trust with the immortals?”

“I would never betray my sacred duty to defend the world of the gods and their children!” Diana declared with such passion that none would dare dispute her. Yet Hippolyta still sighed and lowered her head in defeat more at what her daughter hadn’t said . 

“That is good,” Hippolyta acquiesced readily, but before this could go any further she said, “Come now my daughter. It has been some time since you were last here, and there have been some additions to the gardens.”

Diana easily agreed and the court of the Amazons dispersed as the Queen and Princess made their way silently into the privacy of their private home. “We were not idle,” was the first thing Hippolyta said once they were hidden by the roses, “Our mortal sisters did much to aid the heroes, and are still keeping us apprised as the situation evolves.”

“That is good,” Diana agreed, “But I fear their limitations. They work completely in the shadows, and while their efforts are important to our cause there is much in the way of politics and threats that they cannot stop or help.”

“We Greeks have always been isolationists by nature, Diana,” Hippolyta said fondly. “Even after Alexander, our culture has always been one of self sufficiency and independence from others.”

“And I love that about our people and culture, Mother,” Diana insisted. “I would never wish to change that. But the world is changing. Cultures, histories, and even pantheons are melting together in ways we never could have predicted before. And I fear that if we do not adjust to these times, then even when we are called, we will be paralyzed by a world that has left us behind.”

“You fear a great deal it seems.”

“Only what is reasonable to fear. And the crippling of our sisters and our pantheon is something we should all give careful thought to.”

“I do not disagree with you,” Hippolyta insisted. “In fact…”

Diana looked up and saw the hesitance on the Queen’s face and paused expectantly. “Yes?” she prompted gently, and eventually Hippolyta sighed and said, 

“In fact, I have been in communication with Queen Mera. She and her husband are going to petition Poseidon, so that Atlantis might gain a seat among the United Nations.” Diana stumbled to a stop as she stared at her mother in shock. Slightly amused and a little concerned, Hippolyta continued saying. "Did you have no knowledge of this from King Arthur?" 

"I know that Superman has been pestering him about it. Batman has been to, although far more subtly." 

"I suspected as much," Hippolyta said with a slight smile of amusement. But after a pause she said far more seriously, "However, I doubt Poseidon will give his blessing, unless another Polis of our culture makes the first move." 

"Mother?" Diana asked hopefully. 

The Queen of the Amazons took a steadying breath before saying. "When you return, I wish you would take your sister Calliope with you. As an official Ambassador for our people." 

"Truly Mother?" Diana pressed hopefully. And Hippolyta nodded, 

"In essence, we have already revealed ourselves and our world to men. And you are right, we can no longer plead ignorance. If we do not take measures to secure our own place in this new age, then it will be determined for us…As a part of that you will continue as our representative among the Justice League, but you will support Calliope in her political efforts." 

"Of course, Mother," Diana said eagerly, "But won't the gods look favorably upon this." 

"I have already consulted with Athena, Hestia, Hermes, and Hephaestus. They will plead our case to the council. But that is all still some time off. So tell me, is Batman close to learning the true nature of the gods?" 

Diana smiled fondly. On principle, Hippolyta disliked and distrusted all men. But over the centuries she has shown a reluctant acceptance and respect for a few of them. A complement beyond compare to the wise, and Diana was proud of the fact that she had found such men to fight beside for the last few years. Chief among them in her mother’s favor, was of course the Batman. A mortal in every sense of the word, who had gained clear sightedness through his own stubbornness and desire for the truth.

“At the moment he is only asking questions,” Diana said simply, “He has yet to actually begin looking for answers. But he will not wait on us forever.”

“What have you told him?”

“That the events in Europe probably had something to do with our pantheon. And that it would be wisest to seek counsel from our allies before hunting down enemies that might not even exist…Do we have enemies that we need to be aware of?”

Hippolyta sighed deeply, and shook her head, “We always have enemies…what of the rest of the League?"

"They are content to let Batman’s paranoia route out the threats. Of course the mystics among them know better than to meddle in the affairs of gods and are staying well away.”

“A wise policy,” Hippolyta agreed, stopping to look out over her island from the open white cliff they had come to. The shining blue of the Mediterranean glistened like a thousand sapphires in the sun, as the music of the Amazons drifted on the wind. The training yard, the smithy, and the amphitheater all harmonized gently above the smell of flowers and the sea. Such a peaceful and beautiful land, the gods had given them. And for over a thousand years Hippolyta had maintained it and kept it so. 

“You have many fears of what might happen should we not act, daughter,” the Queen said resting one hand on the stone wall edging the garden and the cliff, the other tightening on her celestial bronze staff an scepter. “And I have many fears of what might happen should we move too quickly. The world of man has never been kind to women, much less women with power. And our own sisters must come first.”

“I know Mother,” Diana agreed. 

“You have nothing else to say? No reminder of our sacred duty? Our responsibility as the ones with power to protect those without? No cries for hope and justice?” Hippolyta teased and Diana’s returned her mother’s smile and said, 

“We have preached to each other enough, Mother. And we have both made our choices. Is there really anything else to say?”

“I suppose not,” Hippolyta sighed, “My my, child, when did you become so wise?”

“From your teachings, Mother,” Diana replied easily. “Where else?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere daughter,” Hippolyta sighed. She fell silent as the sea once more caught her eye. It was so peaceful at a distance. From there none could imagine the darkness of its depths and the chaos that lurked beneath those shining jewel encrusted waves. And as Hippolyta meditated on the light and peace of her home, and the chaos and darkness of the world, Diana remained silent. Until finally the Queen spoke once more, 

“I will contact Chiron and tell him of your predicament. He will contact you within the week, and the two of you may form a strategy for the coming years…Once you and Calliope make contact with the world government, the world of gods and mortals will only become more intertwined, and he will need to prepare for that. Whether he accepts the Justice League or not, that I cannot say.”

“There are some demigods among the League already,” Diana argued. 

“And that could help your case with him. If they agree with your position.”

“We are gathering to share counsel on that very topic before I report to the League.”

Hippolyta nodded with a sigh, “Then I will speak with Chiron immediately…And Diana!”

“Yes.”

Hippolyta smiled gently and moved to embrace her daughter tightly. “I have missed you.”

“And I you,” Diana agreed heartily as she returned her mother’s affection tenfold. “I can’t wait to see the rest of my sisters.”

“Enjoy your time here then, I will call for you and Calliope at sunset.”

“Mother!” Diana said gently, “Thank you.”

....

“I…what?” Percy exclaimed in utter bafflement. 

“Look,” Annabeth chided taking the pencil, “It’s easy. You just carry the one, and then add that to the square root of—”

“UGH!” Percy cried and he flopped dramatically sideways like a fainting telenovela star so that his head was resting in Annabeth’s lap. “Why is math so hard?!” 

“Stop being silly!” Annabeth chided but her smile gave away her true amusement, “Don't you want to finish high school? New Rome University? And coffee in the forum?”

Percy met her shining gray eyes with his signature trouble making smirk. “Well maybe I just need a reminder of what I’m fighting for.”

“Oh?” Annabeth said critically, as Percy began to prop himself up until their faces were inches apart. 

“Yeah!” he said slyly as he began to memorize her face. The way her golden curls wisped around her in a halo of light. The way her lips ticked in amusement at his antics. The way her stormy gray eyes seemed to be seeing him as deeply and truly as he was seeing her. “I mean what’s the point, who really needs a diploma these days?”

“Hm,” Annabeth said critically, even as she looked gently down at her boyfriend, “Well there’s also California.”

“Yeah?” Percy said softly as he drew himself closer to her without touching. “Surfing sounds fun. Still don’t see why I need a diploma.”

“And then there’s New Rome,” Annabeth said just as softly as she leaned back on the couch to give her boyfriend more space to chase her.

“I hear the Hot Chocolate is to die for,” Percy agreed in a whisper, “But I can get that without a diploma.”

“Well,” Annabeth said as she began to card her fingers through Percy’s rich dark hair, “Only students are allowed to live in the dorms.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth whispered. 

“And why do I want to live in the dorms again?” His soft voice gave way to his mischievous smile. 

“Because I’ll be in them, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth teased right back. “And I’m allowed a roommate.” 

“Is that so Wise Girl?,” Percy whispered, his eyes flicking between her eyes and lips repeatedly, “And that’s a good thing, because…”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Annabeth teased.

Percy shrugged, never dropping his mischievous smile, nor the pure adoration in his eyes. “I guess you’ll just have to remind me.”

“I guess I will,” Annabeth whispered, and she leaned forward to kiss him gently at first, and then more passionately. Percy shifted so that they were both in a more comfortable position, and he deepened the kiss in an attempt to communicate just how much he loved her. He needed her to know how much she meant to him, how much he needed her. She needed to know how much of that went beyond anything they could say with words. And with the understanding of equal and shared passion, Annabeth responded in kind. Pretty soon they were both lying back on the couch, textbooks forgotten, with thoughts of only each other and how good it felt to just be there together and alive in each other's arms. 

Annabeth hummed as Percy shifted to free a hand that had found its way into her hair. But he never once broke their kiss, not even as his hand began to drift down her body to touch the hem of her camp t-shirt and—

“Gods! Get a room!” 

As one Percy and Annabeth rolled off the couch only to land in tangle, hitting the ground with a painful thud. Still it barely took them half a second to detangle with a coordination that betrayed their inhuman nature and years of experience and face the intruder with weapons at the ready. Annabeth with a brand new dagger, and Percy with Riptide. 

“Nico!” Percy shouted, as he finally perceived the smirking teen in his mom’s living room. “What in Hades, Man?”

“I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” Nico asked innocently, as Annabeth sighed in exasperation before sheathing her dagger. 

“Obviously!” Percy cried, still not setting down his sword. 

“Not that it isn’t lovely to see you Nico,” Annabeth said in her Commander voice, “But what are you doing here?”

“And next time knock!” Percy scowled as he finally capped Riptide and put the pen sword back into his pocket. 

“Great to see you too, cus', and Chiron sent me,” he said, turning to Annabeth. “He’s called a full council.”

Like a flipped light switch, Annabeth and Percy went from slightly disgruntled and annoyed teenagers to steely eyed and straight backed generals. And if Nico flinched at their slightly too hard, and perhaps too old eyes fully focused on him, then no one said anything as Annabeth demanded, “What happened?” 

“What do you think happened?” Nico said sullenly, “We practically tore apart southern Europe during the Giant War and the mortals took notice.”

“Which mortals?” Percy ordered. 

“The Justice League,” Nico said, “Some legacy, grandson or maybe great grandson of Apollo, showed up in New Rome this morning with the warning. At the same time a son of Athena appeared at Camp, said his name is John Stewart?”

“Styx!” Annabeth hissed and she moved to grab her spare armor and Drakon Bone sword.

“You know him?” Percy asked as he moved to help. 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said with a sigh. “He was head counselor for Six when I came to camp. But he left to join the Marines the next year. He would stop in to check on everyone when he was on leave. But the year before you came he was recruited to the Green Lantern Core and so he had to go no contact to keep us safe from, you know, ‘extraterrestrial entanglements’ on top of our usual bullshit.” 

“Your brother is Green Lantern?” Nico sneered in distaste.

“He’s the cool one,” Annabeth defended.  

“Who's the Legacy in New Rome?” Percy deflected.

“A guy named Oliver Queen,” Nico said, “Don’t know which Leaguer he is though.”

“Probably Green Arrow,” Annabeth said with a sigh, as she helped Percy tighten his grieve. She looked wistfully down at the scattered textbooks and empty couch and shook her head mournfully. “Couldn’t we get just one week to ourselves? We only just recovered from the Giants. And now Magnus and the Emperors—” 

“Hey!” Percy interceded, turning her face gently to look at him. “This isn’t another war. This…this is a diplomatic mission. Right Nico?” 

Nico blinked but nodded saying, “Um, yeah, sure I guess.”

“You see,” Percy insisted, “Everything is going to be just fine! You’ll see. You said your brother is the good Green Lantern?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, taking a deep steadying breath, “He’s actually the one who got me into architecture.”

“I like him already!” Percy said grinning. He then gave her a quick peck on the lips before turning to face Nico. “You good to take us, or do we need to pile into the Prius?” 

“Prius,” Nico said begrudgingly. “I just shadow traveled from New Rome. And I have a feeling that I’ll need to take a group back there before the day is done. Speaking of, did Sally make any cookies recently?” 

“Tupperware in the fridge,” Percy said as he began to painstakingly write out a note to his mom. “Just grab the whole thing. And there’s some sandwiches.” 

“Yes!” Nico whispered as he moved to the kitchen. 

Annabeth moved to Percy as he finished his note. They took to memorizing each other’s features again, but this time with the gravity of anticipation and fear. “Tell me we’re going to be ok,” she whispered. 

Percy solemnly grabbed her hand, holding her gaze with the intensity and peace of the sea on a windless day, “As long as we’re together.”

Annabeth closed her eyes and squeezed his hand as tightly as he squeezed hers. “As long as we’re together,” she repeated solemnly as his forehead rested against hers. They stood there for a moment content and at peace because they were alive and they were together. Still it could only last a moment, and so without separating they turned to the kitchen where Nico was grabbing as much food as he could carry. And they braced themselves for what was to come.   

[voicesunified]

Sheik & The Hero of Time.

When Zelda had her vision of the future Sheik was only a child. He remembers vaguely Impa's expression of pain and worry when she came home, but that's about it. He'd already been training under his mother as a Sheikah Warrior, but she increased the training quite a bit after that.

Sheik was given his destiny the same day Zelda handed him the harp.

Though he wanted to throw the harp against the walls many times between that, he took to training as hard as he was supposed to. Not wanting to fail when his mother had stressed the danger of what would happen if he did.

Impa also gave him a set of rules. He should not distract the Hero of Time, and he should not get in his way. Doing so was only going to cause things to crash and burn around them. The Hero was their last hope, and Sheik was the only one left who would have answers for him on what he needed to do. He was the compass and map on his journey.

There is nothing Sheik struggled more when guiding Link than keeping a hands off approch. Watching him fall, watching him break, and not being able to help is the biggest pain and regret he has of their entire journey.

Sheik was not at all idle while Link was in temples. He spent his time being in and out of Hyrule Castle, doing his role of the double agent and checking in with Ganondorf while also learning what his plans were. He kept an eye on the sages, checked in with them, risked his life to save Ruto. Then he needed to report in to Impa and the Princess, keeping them updated but also making sure they were safe.

He didn't get much sleep. Having to be sixteen steps ahead of Link, keeping an eye on him, being with Ganondorf, the sages, Impa, the Princess--if he could have duplicated himself, he would have loved to. Trying to be everywhere at once made finding sleep exceedingly difficult. It often meant he went a long time without having a chance to patch himself up either. Letting wounds fester and bleed.

This habit continues later on too. Between barely sleeping and nightmares, Sheik typically gets 2-3 hours of sleep.

Sheik doesn't regret his part in Link's journey. He regrets everything he didn't do that he believes he should have done.

[sxturn-to-mxrs]

books: riordanverse (pjo,hoo,toa and kc), the inheritance games, harry potter (fuck jkr), sherlock holmes, the book thief, famous five, a good girl's guide to murder, the girl who drank the moon, george's secret key to the universe, little women, black beauty, three men in a boat, aru shah, the secret garden, the hunger games (on catching fire), powerless, the folk of the air (on the stolen heir), and then there were none

shows/movies: a series of unfortunate events, one piece (live action), jujutsu kaisen the babysitters club, alexa and katie, the greenhouse acdemy, enola holmes, big hero 6, encanto, elemental, all og disney movies, turning red, toy story, wednesday, matilda, anne with an e, mean girls

artists: conan gray, olivia rodrigo, melanie martinez, marina, bts, twice, txt, stray kids, billie eilish, sabrina carpenter, new jeans, enhypen, taylor swift, iu, mamamoo, (g)-idle, ive, le sserafim

[projectharbringeraskblog4]

IV The "Marionet" - Project "Harbringer" |V

“Hey! Let us go! You crazy bastard- Let us go!” -The chains rattling with their somber tones echo in the walls of the facility underground. As vials clink softly, the hum of satisfaction. The serpent of blackened bones and green ghostly flame peers over its master’s shoulder at the thrashing subject curiously, with gleeful and giddy hunger for sinking teeth into flesh. A skeletal hand calmly glides over its head. Deaf to the mortal’s cries and vapid, hissed curses.

“It’s been so long, since I saw a living Night nymph….” A grating, coldly amused rasp of a strangled man hisses in idle musing, appraising his work, a smile curling onto his sickly skull. Turning to his wonderful participants of this brand new endeavor in science’s name, the pale young man sat in binds on the floor eyes him grimly. Eyes boring into his own ghastly orbs, following his smallest of movements. Ahh, such intelligence. I can see your mind concocting schemes, little Rat.

A chuckle slips from the Graveborn’s stitched maw. Clinical admiration laden within, fascination, patience simmering to cut up the frigid flesh and observe that heart thrum its slow, feeble beat as the lungs guide air in and out to the vessels so rich in oxygen. Itching to glide his scalpel and peer into that brilliant head of snowy strands, pick apart the brain into components for examination. Slit the delicate throat, and peer at the chords, so unique as to allow effortless vocal ranges and stellar mimicry. Gleam their secrets.

A being that effortlessly toys with death itself, sauntering in its footsteps like a shadow yet never succumbs. Such potential! It be insulting to waste it, a sinful crime to let it rot away.

Striding over to the pair, Viperian of the Immortal Fleet holds out the two glass vials of chemical newly developed and honed. Derived, specially for this marvelous occasion. A clear-water like liquid, so reminiscent of Aqua Tofana and liquid lead, however differing in purpose.

"You can drink this vial, or be food for my little baby. Choice is yours, my dear test subjects." Pick your poison. Either way, I can't wait to witness the marvelously fascinating result. The skeletal snake hisses with that ever unblinking stare. Waiting. "Are you serious!? What kind of-" "What will the poison do?" Sinbad blinks, ceasing his furious thrashing to turn his head toward the man sat by his side.

"Vanya...? Have you lost your mind?" What're you doing..? The stoic determination veiling the vampire's deceptively delicate face makes his own worried turn glum. No. Hell no. You're not sacrificing yourself, you damn idiot. But there's no swaying him, is there?

"It will extract your soul from your physical form. Consider it a symbolic death, for a new life." "And will you let him go?" The scientist opens his maw to utter his reply in that disgusting hiss of his—

"I'll drink the vial with him."

Firm and not budging, final decision.

I promised to follow where you lead, just as you follow me. We're in this, together.

Viperian grins, the knowing smirk of delight of the Devil. Watching as the Captain, hero, of Rustport dives down into the unknown abyssal depths with his beloved Siren. Bears witness to the radiant burst of colors, shimmering wild fires of yellow, gold, orange, scarlet and teal green melting and swirling like chemicals; Watches as the shimmering yellow of the sailor's spirit- soul- merges into those threads of eternal, cyclical fire, etched into the intricate tapestry and ensnaring deep into the heart. A speck, a ray seeping into them... As their flesh, sinew and bones mold and stitch together into a seamless single form.

One.

And Viperian observes, with utmost attention this aweing, grand spectacle. As the figure rises onto his feet, stare of icy tranquility, the chains wound around his torso now draped loosely. The fusion's low, monotone voice is tinted with subtle note of churning ire-- The humming rumble of thunder, face a blank mask of steel.

"You've conducted your last experiment."

"Hm."—

—The Graveborn's ghastly green torso lays on the cold stone floor of the laboratory, charred and with limbs broken to bones. The serpent merely a pile of ribs and vertebrae, no light in it. Just as the man so foolish, play with that which should not. The chains slowly clink and clatter softly in a somber hum as they retreat with finality, releasing the skeleton in rags.

Holding up the unrolled, weathered parchment in hands, the being strides out of the empty, ghost facility. A phantom silently stalking in a steady, purposeful march; the compass tipping its arrows in the direction of the next name in red, bloodied ink scrawled on the scroll.

You can't run from debt. (Pay your dues.)

...

—"Rumors say, that Captain Sinbad and his Mage went missing- Suffered an unfortunate, gruesome fate. And that they were sown into one soul in the incident, bound to forever roam....And should you be misfortunate to run into them- Pray the scales tip to the right. Or you might just find yourself paying up with blood your price." Valen pauses in raising the pint to his lips, gaping at his senior colleague in shocked, and horrified surprise.

There's a grain of truth in every lie, and hearsay. The knights of his squad listen with morbidly rapt attention, as Russimof the Shrewd mysteriously carries on with the urban legend newly spun. From whispers, from word of mouth - to word of mouth, each link in this chain, network web adding his or her own twist to it. A game of broken telephone that the captain prays with achingly sinking, bleeding heart and dread to be wrong.

"No matter if you run, hide or stand up to the looming ghostly shadow and how far you go— The man is always there. Walking, coming, face to face regardless."

"Pft. Who's got so much time on their hands to spin around nonsensical stories anyway?" The Shrewd eyes the skeptically dismissive and wry trainee archer with a Cheshire smirk, wagging a finger.

—"Ah, ah, ah- You know what they say: "In every lie and myth, there's a grain of truth." I wouldn't be so quick to wave it off as mere mothers' pish-posh for unruly children to behave."

"Tch, sounds like a merciless monster to me." -Another quips, looking over her nose, yet still grips the hilt of her sword. Russimof shrugs, leaning back in his seat, entirely unbothered by Alex's mildly defensive snappishness.

—"Eh, it ain't all bad. The Marionet does give a choice, besides the obvious whether you wanna try fleeing from him or facing him head on. Heard that, if you plead for more time and the scales say 'mercy', then he gives you three days to make your amends in fully. No more, no less.

Still blow them, and next time there won't be such leniency." A chill sweeps over their table as though a cloud of avalanche mist, sending goosebumps on the patrons' skin and wary bafflement turn to dread. Like the stare of Death, a low and breathless whistle echoes from somewhere.

Steady. Calm and peaceful, yet haunting. Almost emotionless, and mournful.

As if an omen.

It sounds.... from the outside? No, somewhere nearby, in the tavern..

The entire squad freezes up, hairs standing on end. Valen lowers his tankard, slowly, warily, a frown of anxious dread on his angular face. Scanning the room with critical scrutiny in macabre hopes of glimpsing the source, heart thundering in his ribcage.

Hugo Russimof the Shrewd smiles, unbothered by the cold neutral stare boring into his back and the presence looming. Speaks evenly, with serenely warmth of knowing, simple acknowledgement as if to an old, long-time dear friend and brother in arms.

—"Ah. So my time has come to pay my dues, eh Old friend?" The shadow says nothing. Heaving a chuckle, the old weathered veteran Solitaire pushes back his chair, standing up from his seat. "Well, lads, t'was nice chatting with this round of pint and Poker. Take care, my comrades, and Valen-"

The brunet's head snaps to look up at him, expression grim and of sorrow. A contrast to his old colleague's smile, facing his fate with quiet, stoic pride.

"One last tip from your Old bother figure. Don't stain your hands like I did, climbing up the blackened ladder to Captain in old hay days."

Straightening up, Hugo Russimof - Veteran Solitaire and former captain, Senior knight within the Heroic Order- gives his mates a playful salute. Placing a firmly curled fist to his chest, over his heart- The new order.

And lifts it to place two fingers to his forehead-- A salute of acknowledgement and greeting, per the old order. Just as how they greeted each other in hello and goodbye back in the days prior to Valen stepping up in his place, getting caught because of a dumb rookie blunder. Resulting in his bargain with the General, and thusly the Solitaires cutting ties with the mercenary lot clean, joining forces as becoming a branch of the Heroic Order.

Not only absolving the organization of past wrongs through this repent, but also becoming a real knight at last just like he dreamed since a child. Two birds, one stone.

Valen somberly rises up to his feet, meeting his old mentor by looking the man in the eye...And without a word gives him a two finger, solemn salute, hand quivering. As he brings it down, curled into a tightly firm fist, placing it over his chest. Blinking back tears threatening to well at the corners of his eyes and lips pressing into a tight line.

"Farewell, Captain Russimof." Thank you, for everything you did- For the Solitaires, for us.. For me.

With a small nod, the former captain reaches out and firmly pats- claps him on the shoulder. One, last time.

And walks out of Traveler's Light, the phantom following after his hulking form.

[strawberrymilkshakeprice]

Alr so when i said i wasn’t gonna upload, i lied 😅 so basically this a snez kink blog, for weirdos such as myself, i can’t make wavs for the death of me… BUT i will make story’s and headcannons (if i find the courage to figure out what to post first) ummm… I’m very innocent, like seriously it kinda surprises me that i know what a kink is, (my parents were really overprotective and didn’t tell about the deed until i was 19) sooo… if you’re gonna be talking about the deed with sneeze in it I’m gonna be asking questions on what the hell your talking about most of the time. (But don’t worry i know about most noughty toys, things, and phrases, thanks to the internet…. I’m traumatized)

What i WILL write

Kpop stuff

sneeze stuff (obvi)

anime stuff

fluff

angst

allergies

what i will NOT write

emote (i have serious emote)

smut (for anime or Kpop, many of them have stated it makes the uncomfortable and i think we should respect that)

character death

mess (Not really my thing)

Deadly illness

anime’s i know

AOT (Attack On Titan

HXH (Hunter X Hunter)

JJK (Jujitsu Kaisen)

Kakegurui

Link Click

SXF (Spy X Family)

MHA (My Hero Academia)

Sasaki To Miyano

HKTB (Hanako-Kun Toilet Bound)

Obey me!

The Yakuza’s Guide To Babysitting

CSM (Chainsaw Man)

Tokyo Revengers

Black Clover

BSD

Buddy Daddies

Demon Slayer

Paradox live

Sk8 The Infinity

Death Note

Zom 100

(don’t question how i know and watch all of these anime’s, I’m a weirdo weeb who has to much time on her hands 😭)

Kpop groups i know

SKZ (Stray Kids)

BlACKPINK

Ateez

TXT (Tomorrow X Together

BTS

Enphypen

Itzy

(G)-idle

NCT

aspea and a bunch more i will put later

ofc please no minors, it’s nothing personal i promise it’s just that when your parents are ready they will tell you all about this type of stuff.

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!!!