#Ady's tricks

[accidental-spice]

Trick or treat!

Hope you like it!! Happy Halloween!!

[fallstaticexit]

Chapter Seven Adie (The Fight pt 1) - Previous // Next // Beginning // Werewolf Lore

Transcript Below

Sonny: You all know the rules, but in case you forgot- this is a clean fight for rank and pack acceptance not for blood. The fight ends when a wolf yields...and this time, for the first time, magic is on the table-

Lou: Ahh what! C‘mon, Alpha! How‘s that fair!? Respectfully...

Rhys: [softly to Jacob] But...what if Mir gets hurt?

Jacob:We‘ll just have to trust that he‘ll win.

Rory: Fuck his ass up, Mir!

Lux : You got this, Amir!!!

Sonny: Son, you got this? You‘ve never been up against anything like this before. I‘d understand if you‘re wanting to stand down-

Amir: [clenches jaw] This is what you want, right? It‘s for the pack, right?

Sonny: You‘re my boy. You‘re safety comes first-

Amir: Look, I can do this, ok? I‘m not scared of him. I can take him. That‘s why I‘m your second in command.

Kristopher: [to Sonny] Calm your nerves, brother. Your pack can sense your anxiety. It‘ll throw Amir off his game.

Sonny: [sighs] I know... I know.

Jacob: Oh no...Amir, yield! You'll get burned!

The Pack:Yield!!! Amir!! Stand down! Yield!

Kristopher: Pyrokinesis. Now that‘s a neat trick. Looks like you got a valuable addition to your pack, Sonny.

[adiluv-moved]

✦ : ❝ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ꒰𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞꒱ !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which your bed is taken and you try to get your roommate to share; 872 words.

꒰warnings꒱ akademiya roommate wanderer, lumine as traveler, reader is not traveler/is from sumeru, barely edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ i cannot stop being haunted by ideas right before i'm about to go to sleep, please send help!! also, doing a bit more experimenting with the titles, so let me know what y'all think! super short drabble, but hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི*ˊ ᵕ ˋ꒱ྀི১

"Need I remind you," comes the chiding of an ever familiar voice, staring you down with dull eyes. "You were the one that oh, so 'graciously' insisted upon giving up your room to the Traveler." A reminder, the Wanderer you've come to call your roommate poking you in the shoulder as those words leave his lips.

He's unimpressed, that much is clear, gaze focused upon the pillow held beneath the crook of your arm. The spare blanket tugged over your body sags, sliding off one of your shoulders, as if cowering away from the figure in front of you. Contrary to his usual tone, there's no sense of mockery inside of his voice, and he looks fully ready to close the door in your face as resign you to your fate.

In fact, he even attempts to do so, only stopping when you quickly jab your foot in the door—despite known fully well that he possesses the strength necessary to simply crush your foot and end the conversation. He doesn't, of course, because you had threatened to tell Lesser Lord Kusanali in retaliation, instead choosing to shoot you a deadpanned glare as you're given another chance to make your case.

You flash an innocent smile. He rolls his eyes, and yours crinkle.

"Well..." You muse, humming as you grip the doorknob and attempt to push further into the space. A gust of wind that would have no natural place being inside of the dorm gently pushes you back, the Vision hanging on his chest providing further confirmation of his manipulation. "The couch is uncomfortable. And cramped. I couldn't possibly have a good rest there."

"I don't see what that has to do with me." And, perhaps the low light is simply playing tricks on your eyes, but you can almost see the ghost of a smile pulling up at the corner of the Wanderer's lips, a barely noticeable glint in his eye as you pout at your misfortune.

"You do realize that she's a hero, right? One that's—quite literally—saved several nations within Teyvat? Including Sumeru? Aren't you Vahumana scholars supposed to care about that?" You decide to ignore the convenient fact that she turned up on the Wanderer's doorstep, acting like old acquaintances, because he'd refused to answer any of your questions on that matter and you were certain that he actually would slam the door on your foot if you decided to bring it up.

Considering the fact that he works beneath the Dendro Archon herself, though, perhaps you should've just come to expect all sorts of mysterious circumstances following him around.

"And yet, a hero of legend couldn't even bring herself to book a hotel room. How kind of you, to be providing such charity to the needy."

Your lips thin as he snickers at the situation, shoulders slumping as you look away. At this point, you wouldn't have been shocked if both the traveler and her companion—Paimon, was it?—had heard your discussion, spoken in hardly hushed whispers with walls thinner than the paper you wrote your reports on.

How they could put up with the man's attitude was still something that eluded you, though you supposed you'd have to ask yourself that question, too.

Whatever. At least you weren't the one being uncourteous.

"Just shut up and let me in already."

Finally, the door swings open, allowing you a direct line of sight into his bedroom. Neat, and sparsely decorated, to the point where one might've assumed it uninhabited at first glance. The ever growing stack of papers and doll sitting directly in front of his pillow were the only real indications of his presence, the only things that convinced you he was real after all.

That, and the insolent personality of his that had absolutely no business staying stuck in your mind all the time.

"Just make sure that you stay on your side of the bed." He mumbles, sharp edge prevailing despite the low volume. You quickly scurry in, closing the door behind you before he has the opportunity to change his mind.

Turns out that you didn't actually follow his orders, if the photos that Paimon snapped of the both of you sleeping together—bodies curled around each other to the point where it was near impossible to decipher who was holding who—were any sort of evidence.

She proudly bragged about them, slamming them on the table with a smug expression as she teased the red-faced 'Hat Guy' sitting right in front of her. Whether or not he was upset or embarrassed, you remained clueless about, though the near white-knuckled grip he held on his butterknife seemed to promise answers. Based on the awkward look on the traveler's face, cold-blooded murder seemed the most likely possibility.

Against your own nosy nature, the role of an innocent bystander seemed far more appealing. At least, with the cup of warm chai in your hands, you could pass off your blush as a reaction to the beverage's heat.

On the bright side, considering the softened look within your dearest roommate's eyes when you'd awoken—before the traveler's companion had burst in asking for breakfast… he might just allow you back into his room the next time your find your bed unavailable.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[beevean]

This comes from a place of Drac being my fave character, lol. The fun thing is the player is not supposed to agree with Mathias, it's framed as he being selfish and frankly, full of shit. Leon calls him on his bluff. He's not convincing anyone and Mathias is transparently aware of it, the voice acting does a good job of communicating it. Leon is obviously portrayed to be on the right. It's not ambiguous at all.

Mathias is only convincing if you're Ellis and write edgy atheist reddit ass shit, I guess.

NFCV wants to be deep and nuanced and morally grey, but in reality it's only cynical and mean and accidentally justifies heinous crimes by ironically flattening cruel villains into sad 🥺 beans.

I resent how the show is praised for "turning Dracula into a tridimensional antagonist". My dude and my pal, Dracula waging war on mankind out of deep-seated grief for Lisa was not something Adi Shankar came up with: it was taken from SoTN, in 1997. It ain't new. What the show did was giving more moments of vulnerability with Dracula - which again, on paper, it's awesome! But it went too far in the opposite direction. Dracula in S2 is a broken man unworthy of respect, who lets Carmilla walk over him, who is all :( that Hector won't be friends with him, who only wants to kill himself awww don't you feel bad for him already.

NFCV has this very funny trick. For example, it's very noticeable that Lenore stops showing sexual attraction to Hector in S4, because she's meant to be cute and sympathetic and good deep down, and having her hitting on the guy who is constrained by the cursed ring she put on him would make her look bad (and incidentally, now she looks like she only has sexual interest in people who are 100% weak, vulnerable and depending on her. mhh 🤔). Isaac talks a lot, and I mean a lot, in S4 about himself and his growth and his agency and how huge his meat is, but he never mentions his unjustified killing spree done because he was on a power trip, because that would make his lack of remorse look bad. And in a similar vein, S2 doesn't show one single time the results of Hector and Isaac sending Night Creatures on towns like S1 did. Because that would make Dracula look bad :) that would remind us that he's killing innocents :) that the issue is not just that his plan will eventually lead to the starvation of vampires and an empty world: he is, right now, decimating people who do not deserve his wrath.

Because then we would be less sad when he cries that he's killing his boy, you know?

And, of course, we're still debating whether Lisa knew what her hubby was up to during her death. He sure doesn't mention it :) because their reunion would be less cute if we remembered that my man went against her wishes and nearly killed their son :) convenient :)

The games are not cowards. They give you villains with sympathetic motives and go "cool motive, still murder". I feel bad for Dracula who has to live centuries with the grief of losing his beloved ones, but he's still a dangerous monster to be stopped. I feel bad for Isaac who lost everything he held dear and got his brain scrambled by the Curse of his own master (and I honestly love how PtR frames Hector as Isaac's villain), but he's still a bastard who killed an innocent woman out of petty revenge and delighted in Hector's pain and humiliation. I feel bad for Brauner who lost his mind because he lost his daughters in the world, but that didn't give him the right to steal two other girls and vampirize them to play pretend.

You are allowed to recognize their understandable motives without the narrative going all "aren't they so traaaaaaagic 🥺🥺🥺 ignore their war crimes pls 🥺"

[bluepurpleviolatte]

"I see success as something in the past, while I tend to view failure as a challenge to do better in the future. I suppose I'm driven by the concept of success as well, but I always tend to focus on things I could do better. Nothing ever feels as if it couldn't have been done at least a little bit better, which is probably a good thing as it keeps me motivated to keep learning and improving."

"I've always found sculpture more natural than drawing and painting, so I'm really enjoying ZBrush. I'm not sure I could claim that everyone should do it, but there are also no drawbacks to learning new skills. For me, the most difficult part was just learning the interface and all the various tools and ways of achieving what I want. The actual sculpting part has been really fun."

"I find that with experience you learn that art is like an elastic band and you can keep stretching it until it breaks, so the trick is knowing where that sweet spot is to leave it under as much tension as possible, but not going overboard. Over the years I've killed a lot of paintings by overdoing them, so I try to judge the limit, but it's always a challenge."

-Adi Granov

[jafanadis]

Owl Russell invertedly scares Dog Ash with his head turning trick. ^^;

Otacaia, and all of its characters, species, races, information, et al © Jafan Adis, 2022-2024, All Rights Reserved.

[rainintheevening]

Qui and Padme, 18

Beru and Padme, 16

100 ways to say ILY

Let's start with Qui-Gon and Padmé. This is set in my Promises of Fools AU.

Uh, this got long. Sorry, Adi. There's some angst, but mostly just the usual home front in a war angst.

18. "Here, drink this. You'll feel better."

For a long time Qui-Gon had disdained a gimer-stick of his own, but a hand-carved present from Anakin had been too much of a kindness to pass off, and now he was grateful for it.

Less for something to lean on while walking, and more for something to lean on while standing. Or sitting. Or rising.

He could feel it in his abdomen—the mended muscles giving out, the Nubian-made organs degrading inside him. Waves of pain or nausea were common, and only his connection with the Force and certain mental tricks helped him manage.

Qui-Gon was dying, and he wasn't going to hide from that reality any longer.

Today, he sat quietly in a highbacked cushioned chair, running his hands over the polished stick's grooves and ridges: The different constellations of four-point stars that Anakin had shyly explained meant certain blessings on Tatooine. Three specific lightsabers. The Jedi crest. The Nubian crest. Abstract swirls of carving that filled in some of the gaps. A few words carved in Aurebesh.

It was almost a meditative exercise by now. Eyes closed, fingers sliding from one design to the next as he counted them off, and turned the stick on his knee. And always something fresh to catch his attention, some part of this complex outpouring of Anakin’s love to be seen in a new way.

His commlink beeped, startling him slightly.

Opening his eyes, Qui-Gon glanced over to the desk in the corner of his sitting room, and called the comm to his hand.

"Yes?"

"Qui-Gon." The familiar voice of a Temple guard. "Lady Skywalker is here to see you. She seemed distressed, so I sent her up to your apartment."

"Ah." Qui-Gon wrinkled his brow. "Thank you, my friend."

Absently, he thumbed the comm off, and returned it to the desk with a flick of his wrist. Padmé distressed? Either she had faced something difficult in her day's work, or she had war news. Possibly both.

Qui-Gon stayed as closely connected to Obi-Wan and Anakin as he could, but even with their own encrypted comm channel, courtesy of R2-D2, there were weeks when they would be silent, when all Qui-Gon could do was sift through the news on the HoloNet, and trust in the Force to guide his thoughts. Qui-Gon wasn't even technically a Jedi anymore. He wasn't essential to the war effort, though he did what he could, little as it had become. Working with the younglings and the junior padawans left behind to learn and train, trying to mitigate the toll taken by the long separations from their masters. There were so few Jedi left to teach these days.

With a sigh, Qui-Gon set the tip of his gimer stick against the rug, levered himself to his feet with a single, smooth motion.

Whatever was wrong, he knew the first order of business was a cup of tea.

The Anakin-improved electric kettle had just begun to boil when the knock came at Qui-Gon's front door.

"Come in," he called, leaning on the worktop as he measured crumbled Naris-Bud into an infuser. It was one of Padmé's favourites.

He looked over as the door slid open, took in the light flush in Padmé's cheeks, the set of her mouth, the slight tremble in her hands.

"Master Qui-Gon," she greeted him, inclining her head.

"Hello, my dear," he said gently, holding out one arm in an invitation.

Padmé Skywalker was one of the strongest women he had ever known. She had shields of steel around her thoughts and emotions, she knew how to control her every move, her every little expression. She had precious few people she could let down her guard around. Qui-Gon understood it was a privilege that she counted him one of those precious few.

Her lips quivered, before she came to his side, put her arms lightly around his waist, and leaned into his embrace.

"Thank you, Grandpa," she whispered against his shirt, and he tightened his grip around her shoulders.

Only she and Anakin called him that. 'Grandpa', an alteration of 'grandfather'. A funny word in Basic, but one that carried an astonishing amount of love and respect.

He bowed his head protectively over hers, impulsively bent low enough to kiss her hair.

Pain swept up through his belly, a sharp, hot rush, but he breathed it in, let it come, let it go, moved through it.

He felt her shoulders tremble, and when she pulled away, she kept her head down, wiping her cheeks with her hands.

"Here now," he sighed, touching her chin, and pulling his sleeve over his other hand to gently dry her tears. "The bills they're trying to pass must have been especially useless today."

That made the girl give a watery smile. "Not exactly,"she murmured.

"Well, take a seat. Your tea should be nearly done steeping."

She moved to the small table, took the one chair there, and seemed to collect herself. Qui-Gon reached a hand toward his desk, drew the other wood-frame seat out to face her, then turned to measure out his own tea.

The fresh sweetness of heathstars wafted up to his nostrils, and for a moment he imagined he was sitting in a dim little house, a tiny red-headed baby in his lap, singing a lullaby as rain pattered on the window.

With a sigh, he released the memory, though the ache that sat next to his heart whenever Obi-Wan was gone remained.

He took the mugs of tea the few steps to the table, deliberately set his in front of her.

"Here, drink this, you'll feel better."

She looked up with a faint smile, perhaps noting the accent that had slipped into his words, the way he'd rolled the 'r's and deepened the 'o' vowels.

"Thank you, Master Qui-Gon."

"Please." He eased himself down carefully. "I think I prefer 'Grandpa'. Anakin calls me that all the time now."

Her deep breath was shaky.

"Tell me, Padmé, any news of the war that may have missed me?"

She shook her head slowly, blew on her tea. "I doubt it. The last I heard was of the liberation of Ryloth, and rumors that they might be sent to Jabiim next." She grimaced. "Or that someone will, anyway. There are arguments every day from the war council over how much should be spent on everything from armor for the troops, to the rations put on board the cruisers."

Qui-Gon gave her a small smile. "I've never heard Obi-Wan complain so much as about the victuals on the Negotiator. Anakin always tells him to be grateful, then adds something about 'a little spice' improving anything."

Ah, there, Padmé smiled back. "He does enjoy strong flavour in his food, doesn't he, our Ani. He made me what they call 'kantanaki', and it made my tongue burn."

"Yes," Qui-Gon said thoughtfully, watching the steam starting to thin above their mugs. "He made that for me a few times. Bantha or another meat, steeped in hubba gourd juice. But with a secret mix of five different spices on top. Makes a world of difference."

He'd heard the talk about Jabiim too; he knew it would not be a nice planet to wage war on.

Padmé took a sip of her tea, and when she lowered her mug she was smiling. "What is this? It's delicious."

"Ah, heathstar tea. Made from the flowers of the heathren which blankets the hills of Stewjon." He let his voice reflect the sudden wistfulness that gripped him.

"Oh." Padmé lowered her gaze. "Did your wife make you this tea sometimes?" Pain echoed off her words, as if her suggestion had struck close to the heart of whatever was most troubling her that day.

"Yes, she did. I also made it myself, many times. Often with a baby on one arm."

"I wish I could make him tea."

Padmé's voice was very small.

"I wish I could give him this tea right now."

Qui-Gon watched her, aching with tenderness. "I'm sure he would appreciate it." So would Obi-Wan of course, but this wasn't about Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, this was about Padmé.

Oh, and now the tears were tumbling down Padmé's cheeks again. "And I wish I had a baby to hold, that little peice of him in a child, to keep with me, to bring him back to me–"

She could speak no longer, simply covered her face with her hands, and wept.

Not something she did often, Qui-Gon was sure. But dam up a river too tightly, and it was bound to burst its banks.

It hurt dreadfully, pulling at his abdominal muscles, but he leaned across the small table enough to touch her arm.

"You'll be alright, my dear," he said quietly. "I'm here."

A weak bob of her head, and he noticed how simply her brown hair was braided up, yet it was still beautiful.

Unfortunately, the pain was growing, and he was forced to sit back, regulate his heartrate. Only the Force knew how much he hated his body betraying him.

With another sigh, this one of release, he settled into the Force, doing his best to give Padmé the sensation warmth and comfort around her.

Eyes half closed, he sipped his tea, waited for her storm to blow itself out.

"I'm sorry," she said at last, wiping her face with a small syncloth, and blowing her nose.

"No need to apologize." Qui-Gon smiled kindly. "Likely you needed that. Now finish your tea, it should help."

She gave a weak chuckle. "Yes, Grandpa."

"Shall we play a round or two of Sobers?" Qui-Gon inquired, and there, her eyes brightened.

"Only if you want to lose."

So they played cards, and drank tea, and found their way to smile, sitting safe in the Jedi Temple, while far away, Obi-Wan and Anakin slept a fitful sleep, and dreamed of home.

[aduck8myshoes]

you know what, i'm just going to finish the untamed. wild unprecedented breaking presidential news can wait for me to figure out what Nie Huaisang has been up to this whole time.

Ady finally watches The Untamed: Episode 50 FINAL

*sighs in just so tired* let's fucking goooooo

bro, just walk it off. you did it when you got stabbed for Daddy what's the big deal

i never hurt you! (just everyone you love over and over)

he just can't help himself can he

pouting Jin Ling is everything

he got himself caught on purpose? oh tiny JC

A-YUAN HUG

Wen Ning I love you so much

This wonderful little family that they built

are they really going to split up? you just got married! fucking censors!

or not?

they are so in love

so Huaisang tricked Mo what's his face into killing himself to bring back WWX? I still don't get why though. did he know JGY had the seal and he needed a way to deal with that? this is probably all in the novel

ah I see, they are doing the super open ended, 'and then they sorted out their own shit for a little bit but then met back up after an unspecified amount of time so that you can mentally insert any ending you want in here because we can't show them settling down and raising babies together' ending. "would have their wishes come true" indeed

So that's The Untamed! I had a lot of fun, and I now have 5 years of fandom to jump into!

[shiroi---kumo]

Morality Meme || Accepting

@ l/ady-quen asked:

Something he hasn't been asked before (as much): 💋: How easily is he tempted? (Absolutely does not have to be in *that* context. Think material gain, favors, etc)

Buckle up, this is gunna be long and a RIDE.

The trick is when it comes to Kumo on the topic of "tempted" (and not that as you said) is there are two sides to this ->

The idea of tempting or the idea of giving into temptation.

Considering the original question doesn't specify which side we're going to, we're going to go with temptations.

And there are a lot of them and if you want to view things like candy, sugar, indulgences, etc - Kumo gives in often and easily.

The thing about it is though, is, that it's entirely riding on an outsider's perspective of Kumo's actions and if someone like, say Kaze, were to just let Kumo be and react to situations for a week however he so pleases and then judged him on how he reacted over that week -> through an outsider's lens it would appear that Kumo caves to temptations at nearly every turn.

But we're not going from an outsider's perspective. We're going from Kumo's perspective and that is an entirely different situation. This is also why the boys clash so often because the outsider's perspective simply doesn't know / understand why Kumo is doing what he's doing.

In Kumo's mind, he almost never caves to temptations and when you look at the world from his eyes - he's right.

It's taken over two years - real time - for Kumo to dance in front of Kaze (dance in general) totally carefree and to just move, DESPITE the fact, his body tingles and his skin prickles whenever he hears the sound of any form of tune. Kumo hears sound with his entire body but he hasn't combusted yet with his overwhelming full body urge to just move. And when he wanted to sing, he removed himself from what he assumed was Kaze's earshot because he did not want to nor did he feel comfortable doing so in front of the man. He made himself smaller instead of just caving to the urge and singing regardless of whether or not anyone could hear him.

He resists the urge to just flip himself upside down more often than not because he knows it annoys his Other to no end when he does so and he hasn't taken to the sky to just go exist inside a cloud for thirty minutes because of a previous threat to shoot him down if he flew ahead.

Kumo needs to be in the air to breathe properly but yet he has remained mostly grounded due to his extreme fear of angering Kaze. And I do mean extreme.

In Kumo's mind, he doesn't act outside of the boundaries that have been set for him, to the point of even denying his own needs to an extent, if only to keep the peace.

An Outsider's perspective would lead them to tell you that Kumo is a spoiled child that gets whatever he wants, whines and cries to achieve that and lives of sugar and candy that sleeps all the time.

Kumo's perspective would tell you, he is a terrified abuse survivor who is slowly dying due to a curse that is killing him little bits at a time so he sleeps as much as possible because he's running out of energy, who only eats what sugar they can afford and deemed acceptable despite needing it to literally function, drinks half the water he needs because of lack of storage issues, and only cries when his emotions become too much and he can no longer control them. The emotions only come out when the bottle holding them cracks.

An Outsider's perspective would tell you "Spoiled Royal."

And Kumo would even resist the temptation then to tell that person to go fuck themselves because spoiled is the last thing he's ever been. Those two words rub him raw enough to make him bleed but he won't say that either because causing confrontation is improper and he has an aversion to fighting and yelling so he avoids them at all costs.

How often and easily does Kumo give into temptation? He doesn't.

And I say this for a multitude of reasons but mostly that when Kumo "gives into temptation" for something, he's not giving in at all actually. He's been given permission to do something, so he is acting on that permission.

As a prime example, in Kumo's mind, his relationship to Kaze (not with. TO) functions solely around the sentence "I obey you." Because that is how he feels about that man at its root core. He loves him. He cares about him and one might think that his vision is being deluded by his feelings towards Rorahm, but Kumo told himself to come to terms with the fact that Rorahm was dead many months ago.

He no longer sees Kaze as that man. He sees the essence of Rorahm the person as dead but the name Rorahm remains as simply a name and that is why Pilvi and Seejvariil will still use it. But at the core of it, that's where Kumo's mind sets "I obey you." so he would never dare defy someone like Kaze - someone he holds extreme fear in even if "giving into temptation" is doing something is literally a basic need for his survival.

And he's been like this his entire life so whether Kaze is aware of it or not, Kumo was built with a foundation that tells his mind to obey before all else and that includes giving into any form of temptation that could be for his own benefit. Even at seven, Kumo would ask his teachers "Could we maybe color?" instead of just simply coloring as a seven year old should.

Even as a child, he was asking for permission before he did something and that includes: coloring, singing, dancing, drawing, painting, napping, cuddling, eating his favorite foods or really anything at all.

Kumo doesn't give into temptation because he defaults to permission before all else. Even in a relationship type context, Kumo didn't even haul off and kiss Kain. His brain absolutely thought 'I would like to kiss him' but instead of just doing so - Kumo proceeded to ask Kain "Would it perhaps be acceptable if I kissed you?"

Kumo is obsessed with the concept of consent and he means that by way of his own AND everyone else's. He does not just do things to do them. He will check to make sure he's not inconveniencing anyone by doing something. Even if that thing is a nap. He will tell someone he is going to take a nap before he does so. He will also tell that person they can wake him for any reason if they require him even if sleep for him right now is literally life saving.

Kumo's body has become a shattered broken mess of spreading soul scars because he won't fall to temptations of any kind for any reason. He will not prioritize himself for anything and his childhood had a lot to do with it. His current day issues also are what's causing this because having events like:

the 12 years of torture and abuse of all kinds in Gaudium,

Kaze's use of aggressive force, degrading language and dismissive attitude (using his body to intimidate, putting Orthrus flush to his neck to intimidate, back handing him with Orthrus for breaking eye contact, " you foolish boy"/ "spoiled royal" / "spoiled brat", calling him a liar when kumo said he loved him, telling kumo he needed to throw away his love because he was a sword, and an all around lack of general care or concern for Kumo's well being),

and the recent recapture by Anarchy

has only worked to solidify his belief that he needs to inconvenience those around him as little possible and that his existence and needs are things that can inconvenience others.

He doesn't function for material gain either. Ever. He didn't haul off and just go buy the Makea Meloni. No, he begged Kaze for it. (He asked for permission) Even with his goals to take the throne and become King of Wonderland aren't for material gain. He's literally doing this to heal the pain and turmoil in Wonderland to starve out Chaos - therefore weakening their enemy so they can stand in the face of it without causing so much death and destruction.

He's literally aiming for that seat, not for material gain or power. He's a Misterican Royal - they serve their people, not the other way around - so he's doing it to enlist himself into service of the people of Wonderland and therefore the Universe and he won't just declare himself King, even though the seat is currently empty. He is working to get Wonderland's approval before he does so.

Because at the end of everything, no matter what the situation is - Kumo operations on permission before all else.

[youjustfeelthemforever]

If your WIP characters had to go through a super intense (but fake!) haunted house, how would they react? Would they go back in?

Doing this for my newest WIP, Stellarsoul! Going from oldest to youngest.

Harper - Finds the whole thing funny, and laughs at his friends' reactions. Allows them to cling to and hide behind him. Would go back to point out how fake everything is to help everyone else get over their fear.

Addison - Not scared at all, rolls his eyes at the others' fear. Wouldn't bother going back just because it was boring and he finds it stupid.

Caroline - Not scared for the most part, but would jump at little things she wasn't expecting and would definitely get startled by a scare actor and end up instinctively decking them. She'd go back in to prove she wasn't actually scared, and that she was just caught off guard (true but still funny).

Jazz - Extremely tense going through, and nothing ends up being scarier than the suspense she caused herself by expecting something terrifying everywhere she looked. Swears she won't do it again, her nerves are too shot, but then allows herself to be convinced to go back not an hour later. Ends up enjoying herself more every time as she gets less and less on edge.

Stephan - Laughs hysterically at the others until they all gang up and scare him themselves. Laughs along/insists he was pretending, but he's secretly salty lmao. He won't go back in, unwilling to risk getting tricked again (but what he tells them is he just doesn't feel like it. They've already seen it, why do they need to see it again?).

Cody - Hides behind everyone else, expecting the worst, but ends up being completely fine. Thinks the decorations are silly. Refuses to go back in even though he wants to, because he didn't like the scare actors.

Stella - Yells at the scare actors to stop being mean and scaring her friends. Harper has to carry her out. Once outside, he decides that Stella is now banned from the haunted house. Adi takes her back when he's not watching though, both to spite Harper and to make Stella happy. And because it's really funny to watch her harshly reprimanding people three times her age, and the actors' reactions are gold.

Thanks for the ask! Sorry it took a minute, the ask came in like half an hour before the Booping started lmao

[dream-beyond-the-fantasy]

Prompt-oween Day 16

@occreatorexchange

Prompt: Shopping for costumes with a child.

Fandom: Doctor Who/The Sarah Jane Adventures

Characters: OCs David and Molly Yates

Rating: G

Word Count: 1239

Summary: David takes Molly shopping for a Halloween costume.

“Come on, Daddy!  Let’s go!”

David groaned as Molly dragged him into Spirit Halloween.  It was that time again.  He hated it.  So, of course, his daughter would love the holiday.

Molly’s blue eyes would always grow wide with wonder at all the decorations and costumes on display.  Unfortunately for him, what attracted her attention the most were either on the expensive side or things that he didn’t approve of for a child of her age.

She was eyeing the Queen Amidala costume.  Molly had fallen in love with Star Wars quite early on.  David took her to see the new movie back in May, after quite a bit of begging.  Molly immediately clicked with the Amidala character.

David saw the price tag.  He grimaced.  Of course, the movie being a box office hit would ensure price gouging on Halloween costumes.  “It’s a bit much, love.  Why don’t we see if they’ve got any other Star Wars costumes.”

Molly pouted at first.  Then David could see an idea forming in her head.

At that moment, a sales associate stopped in front of them.  “Hi, welcome to Spirit Halloween.  Can I help you find something?”

“Can I be a Jedi?” Molly asked, eyes bright with hope.

He frowned.  “I’m sorry, but all the Jedi costumes are for boys and men.”

“But that’s stupid!”  Molly stomped her foot in outrage.  “There’s plenty of girl Jedi!  Leia Organa Solo.  Mara Jade.  Jaina Solo.  Adi Gallia.  Depa Billaba.  Tenel Ka.  Tahiri Veila.  Yaddle.”

The associate was dumbstruck.  “Uh, I haven’t heard of most of those characters.”

“Not my fault you’ve never opened a book,” Molly retorted.

David frowned.  “Molly!  Don’t be rude.”  He apologized to the young man.  “Do you have any Princess Leia costumes?”

The associate went to look for some.  David looked down at his daughter.  “Care to explain your behavior?”

Molly sighed.  “I’m sorry, Daddy.  But it’s not fair!  The boys get to be anybody they want.  Sometimes, I don’t want to be a princess.  And they never have all the cool girl characters.  Why?”

It was David’s turn to sigh.  How was he supposed to explain sexism and marketing to a five-year-old?  “You’re right, it’s not fair.  And not everyone is going to know about the characters you like because they don’t read the same books.  Keep up that behavior and I won’t take you trick or treating.  Nor will I let you wear a costume at school.  Do you understand?”

Molly nods.  The sales associate returned.  “I’m sorry but we don’t have any Leia costumes in her size.”

“Got any Star Trek?” she asks.

He looked at her, hesitant.

David knew he was afraid that Molly would blow up at him again.  “Let me guess, only Kirk and Spock.  No Lieutenant Uhura or Nurse Chapel.”

“None for little girls, no,” the associate confirmed.

“Right, thanks.  We’ll continue looking,” David dismissed him.  He looks down at Molly, placing a hand on her head.  “Got any other ideas?”

Molly pursed her lips as she thought.  She glanced around at some of the costumes.  Then she broke out in a smile.  “Uh-huh.”

David lifted an eyebrow.  “Well, you gonna tell me?”

“I wanna be a Spice Girl!”  Molly throws her fists in the air.  “‘Every boy and every girl / Spice up your life!’”

David blinked.  That was not what he was expecting.  “Molls, while I’m glad you’re showing some interest in something from England,” he started.

“I want to be Posh!” she interrupted him.

He had tried to let her down gently.  “No, you’re not going to be Victoria Beckham.  If I let you be any of them, it would be Sporty.  At least, most of her is covered up,” he muttered to himself.

“I get to be Mel C?!  Yes, she’s my next favorite!”  Molly started dancing around in celebration.

David covered his face, groaning.  Then he crouched down to put his hands on her shoulders.  “Molly, no.  Stop, stop.”  Once he got her to stop, she stared up at him, confused.  “No, sweetheart, you misunderstood me.  You can’t be Posh or Sporty, or any of them.  No Spice Girls.  You’re too young.”

Molly visibly wilted.

David hated seeing her like that.  But she had to learn that when he set limits and rules, he was doing so for her benefit and she had to follow them.  David caressed her cheek.   “Come on, I know you have another idea.  Let’s hear it then.”

She bit her lip.  If he didn’t like her last one, he probably wouldn’t like this one.  “Can I be Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas?  They have the costume.  I saw it.”

Another frown.  “And when did you see that?  I didn’t say that you could.”

“But Daddy, it’s Disney!” Molly protested.  “You said that Disney movies are okay.”

David lifted a finger.  “No, I said that most Disney movies are okay.  The Nightmare Before Christmas is not one of them.”

“But it’s not scary!”

“Molly, enough!  We’re not doing this here,” David warned her.  He stood up and guided his daughter to a rack of costumes.  After a cursory glance, David took off two outfits.  “Last chance.  “You want a costume, pick one: black cat or ladybug.”

***

It was just before five in the evening when David and Molly joined some of the kids and parents in their apartment building.  David was glad that he decided to go trick-or-treating with a group this year.  It was safer for all of the children.  It made the event less hectic for him.  And it was better for both he and Molly to socialize with people their own age.

By the fifth house, the kids were wired and already had more than enough candy in their bags.  The sixth house had run out of candy from previous trick-or-treaters.  But instead of having them leave, the homeowner had the children wait on the porch while he grabbed another bag from the kitchen.  The parents and kids chatted amongst themselves.

But David tuned it all out.  He watched as Molly was having the time of her life.  He wasn’t sure if she would.  Things had been a bit tense after the costume debacle.  Molly had been quiet and withdrawn from him, staying in her room.  David had decided against dismissing the babysitters who he suspected were letting her watch those movies, but had firm conversations with them about the rules.

Molly had always struggled with socialization.  David sometimes worried that his little girl would never make friends.  At least, none her own age.  She was her usual bright, inquisitive self around him, his dad, and the babysitters.  But put her near other children and she hung back or played by herself.  Until now.  She was talking quite animatedly to a girl and boy dressed as a witch and wizard.  She was all smiles, twirling around in her black velvet and mesh dress, her pinned-on cat tail swishing about.  It warmed his heart to see Molly so comfortable.  He snapped a few photos to commemorate the occasion.

Molly caught him taking pictures.  She gave a big smile and ran to him.  David barely had time to catch her as she launched herself at him.  “You look beautiful.  Cutest cat I’ve ever seen.  You seem to be having fun.”

“I am, Daddy,” Molly told him.

David hugs her, kissing the top of her head.  “I am so glad to hear that, sweetheart.”

[queensaule]

The Living Force live-Tumbl, part 2

(Part 1, Part 3)

Chapters 7-9

-Yarael Poof is too much in this book, I love him he's a silly little guy. And anyone who gives Ki-Adi-Mundi shit is cool in my book!

-Ki-Adi-Mundi was so busy saying that using a Jedi mind trick to get other people to protect you is immoral, that he forgot to point out that using children as human shields is also immoral...

-I love that any time Obi-Wan turns up, other Jedi are happy to see him. like Ki-Adi-Mundi is gonna be all grumpy about being interrupted but then he turns around and sees it's Obi-Wan

-The mysterious driver is Depa I CALLED IT (partner was rooting for it to be Deva Lompop because we still have Defy the Storm on the brain)

-Qui-Gon being like "Not to question the Jedi council" and Yoda is like "come on man we know you"

-When that preview chapter was released I replied to an official tweet about it with "Depa 'This meeting should have been an email' Billaba" and both Editor Tom and John Jackson Miller himself confirmed that they made this joke during the writing process!

[fallstaticexit]

Adie is magic and her most infamous trick is the disappearing act. Blink and you'll miss her. Luckily, Lyric’s visions came in handy, even if she doesn't really understand it all that well. It's never too late to learn a new trick ✨

prev / next

AN: in case I haven’t mentioned it, Missing Moments takes place about 1 year/ a year a half before the start of COTF! I had a feeling some peeps thought this was present day. ✨

Someone go to the information booth and let them know we have a missing child.

We’ll just split up and cover the whole park.

I can’t pick up her scent guys...

Don’t cry, Ri...we’ll find her.

Lyric: I can’t explain it baby, but I have this feeling she’s this way. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.

Mateo: [whimpers]

Lyric: There you are! Adelina, why are you up in that tree? Your mommy is beside herself worried about you!

Adie: Huh? Oh...M’sorry, Aunt Lyric. I think I forgot where I was...

Lyric: That’s why you have to stay with the group, Adie. Luckily, I was able to see you.

Adie: See me?

Lyric: I don’t know how to explain it. It was like, I saw a little picture in my head of where you could be.

Adie: Maybe you have magic too, Aunt Lyric.

Lyric: You think so, huh?

Adie: Yep! I’ll bet all my tooth faerie money!

Ezra: Where did you find her?

Lyric: In a tree of all places...it was so bizarre. There’s no way she climbed that thing on her own. I’m just glad we found her.

Orion: Don’t do that, Adie! Don’t wander off like that, you hear me! You can’t- do ‘that’ here!

Adie: [small voice] But- I didn’t use magic, Mommy...I think-

Orion: No! I need you to know, baby! Do you understand?

Mel: Ri, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh with her? I was watching the kids, I should have paid more attention.

Orion: You can’t let your guard down, not even for a second, dad! No. No, I should have been the one watching her. I don’t know why I thought I could just have a day. Just one day that I can be nor- forget it.

Mel: Orion-

Orion: ...I don’t want to talk about this anymore, dad.

Olive: Girl....guess it’s time to wrap this trip up.

Amir: Yeahhh.

[airheadedharlequin]

trick Or trEat

Trick! Just kidding, I kn&w you'd com& around h&r&, you alr&ady got shot in the l&g so you don't n&&d mor& damag&. Tak& all this D&vo stuff and put it in your hallow&&n modus, critt&r.

[bearlee-giggling]

Do You Want To See A Magic Trick?

Lee!Adison × Ler!Honee (platonic)

Adison is my oc! Honee belongs to @altheadajoysoul!

Synopsis: Adi is curious about what kind of magic Honee performs in his sets, but becomes suspicious when hypnosis is mentioned.

Word Count: 889

Warnings: This is a tickle fic! (Both characters are 18+ but the fic is entirely sfw)

~~~

Adi stepped out onto his porch as he saw his good friend Honee strolling up with his suitcase. Honee would be in town for a couple of days for a short stint of his standup/magic show at a nearby theater, and where better to stay than a good friend's place?

"Bunny Boy! Good to see ya!" Adi exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Honee in a friendly hug.

"Hey, kid! Didn't know they let middle schoolers rent town houses in the city, but things have changed since I was your age, I suppose..." the older rabbit teased, plopping his hat on Adi's head.

Adi let out an indignant huff as he took Honee's suitcase and led him inside. "I'm just gonna ignore that-"

Honee laughed as the two of them crossed the threshold into the small but comfortable residence. Adi set the suitcase and hat down next to the pullout bed in the livingroom, on which he plopped himself down and invited Honee to do the same. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before Adi broke it.

"So, what's your set like?"

"Oh! I'm doing a mix of standup and magic. A lot of basic sleight of hand type of stuff to really level up the jokes with a couple fancier things thrown in here and there." Adi nodded, clearly curious. "Speaking of- do you mind if I test something out on you? I'm integrating it into my set for the first time- I just wanna practice it one more time before doing it for the show-"

"Sure, what is it-?"

"Hypnotism. It's all over the place online, magicians everywhere are going viral for it."

Adi snorted. "Dude, seriously? Everybody knows that hypnotism shit isn't real! It's all faked for views!"

Honee smirked. "Are you a betting man, Adison?"

He paused for a moment. "Not usually, but I'm so confident that I'm right that I will bet you on this."

Honee's grin grew playfully sinister, and Adi felt a pit growing in his stomach. "If I successfully hypnotise you, I can have my fun- and- I get to record what happens and do with it what I see fit."

Adi groaned. "Fine. But if you fail- you still have to keep hypnotism in your set. And I get to come to your show and watch you fail again in front of a live audience."

Honee stuck out his hand with an unsettling amount of confidence. "Deal."

Adi swallowed hard. How was he so sure about this? Nevertheless, Adi took his hand and shook it. "Deal."

Honee grinned as Adi looked up at him, their eyes finally meeting. "Now Adi..." The rabbit's irises flashed and began to spiral. Adi stared deeply into them, immediately entranced, and after a few moments, his expression went completely blank. "Do you want to see a magic trick?~"

Adi smiled and nodded, lying down on the pullout bed as Honee smirked and positioned himself over the human. "I think you deserve a bit of payback after doubting me~"

Adi nodded, tugging up the hem of his shirt to reveal his toned belly up to his lower ribs. Honee chuckled, straddling the boy's waist. "My favorite part of hypnosis~" Honee began with a sinister grin, "is that you can't lie to me~" He pulled out his phone, setting it to the side so it was ready to record when he decided it was a good time. "So with that in mind, Adison~"

Adi eagarly nodded his head. "Do it!"

Honee huffed out a surprised laugh. He knew that Adi wouldn't have been able to lie, but he hadn't even needed to ask. "You asked for it!~"

Honee flexed his hands into claws, hovering them teasingly over Adi's tummy as the younger boy squirmed through flustered giggles beneath him. Finally, the claws touched down, skittering up and down Adi's sides as he squealed with glee. Loud, bubbly giggles poured from his mouth. "wehEHE-!! honehEHEhe-!!"

Honee smiled, pushing up Adi's shirt a bit further to gently scritch at his ribs. "What's so funny? I haven't even started testing my standup on you yet-"

"FUHUHUHUCK-!!! NAHAHAHAHAAHA-!!!" Adi's laughter intensified in volume and grew more frantic by the second, so Honee only spent a few moments teasing at his ribs before tracing his blunt claws all over Adi's tummy.

Adi melted into a fit of squealy giggles, squirming and batting at Honee's hands out of instinct.

"Ah, ah, ah~ Keep those hands up will you, bud~?"

Adi nodded and dragged his hands up behind his head, after which Honee immediately spidered his claws into the hollows of Adi's underarms. "WEHEHEHAHAHA!!! PLEHEHEHEASE!!!"

"Please what? Keep tickling you?~" Honee giggled, tracing a claw right around the rim of Adi's navel.

"SHIHIT- FUHUHUHUCK-!!!" Adi was cackling loudly and happily now, arching his back into the ticklish madness. That is- until Honee dipped his claw into Adi's navel and began scritching. "NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-!!!! FAHAHAHAHACK STAHAHAHAHAHAAP-!!!!"

Knowing that Adi was unable to lie about what he wanted, Honee stopped immediately. He climbed off of Adi, off of the pullout bed, and scooped the still-giggling boy into his arms.

"Did you have fun, Adi?"

"Sohoho... sohoho muhuch fuhuhun-"

"Tired?" Adi nodded, nestling himself into Honee's arms. "Let's get you to bed."

Honee carried Adi to his room, and there his phone sat, long forgotten on the pullout bed.

[viadangelo]

➵  BASICS

NAME: Via D'Angelo GOES BY: V, Via. AGE / D.O.B. 3rd March, 1971 [ 53 yo ] FACECLAIM: Carla Gugino GENDER & SEXUALITY: Cisfemale. Bi. HOMETOWN: Los Angeles, CA. CURRENTLY: Brooklyn, NY. AFFILIATION: Syndicate. JOB POSITION: Retired Performer. Now Falcon. EDUCATION: High School Diploma RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Always single, if asked. CHILDREN: One. ➵ Hanna D'Angelo, 30, estranged.

➵  TRAITS

POSITIVE: Charismatic, conscientious, vivacious, imaginative, witty. NEGATIVE: Callous, compulsive, hedonistic, grim, cynical.

➵  BIOGRAPHY

Round and round, up and down. It's always a trick; a ploy; a deception. From every sharp knife thrown at a spinning wheel, to every saw through a box, to the famous Houdini and his masterful escapes. Everyone hears about the stories, not everyone has been witness. Reading it in the news the next day, is never the same as seeing the colour of blood freshly painted across skin. Knowing that everyone walks away unscathed is different to seeing it happen. Magic is always better seen, than believed. Product of an affair, Via was the bastard child of some Hollywood exec. An evening with too many drinks slammed; an Italian restaurant; a Thursday night. Something like that. Los Angeles was rife with unattainable standards, pretty woman, men, and too many vices in all the wrong pockets. By the eighties, D'Angelo's was a decrepit shell of a restaurant, it started with mass inflation. Expenses that put prices up that even the elite were refusing to pay. And the elite that stayed the elite, were the rising stars of the red carpets. The extravagance and elegance that was heavily in others' favours. Via's family were on the poverty line. And outside the doors, the outlandish scenes of LA thrived. It was magical, and it was a wistful dream to want to be one of them. A child turned teenager, rogue in the wilderness of the concrete jungle navigated her way into the backdoors of a theatre on one early evening. Adi Rosselli was in town, a magician that had the ears of all who mattered. He had Via's ear too, and her eyes when she peered from the corner of a packed theatre to witness the magic. As the children's books say, magic can change lives. It changed Via's. It changed D'Angelo's. One conversation. One break in. One door fumbled into with a hairpin. One good shot. Via swindled her way in, a second assistant. Rosselli already had one. One too many, most would comment. Years pass. Via spends her nights on the edge of death, and delight. She earns prestige, maybe as the pretty face; dolled up to look nice. But, eventually, it's something. It's steady and she learns everything. Cards, tricks, positions, how to make it look deceptive. The first tragedy was the vanishing act; it was so magical, it was real. One assistant again. Adi, confused, shocked - doubtful of his performances was comforted by a enthusiastic D'Angelo earning a name at his side. A tragedy could not stop it. A decade passes, Adi starts talking retirement. Via, still energetic with life, and a taste of the elite in LA as Rosselli talks about his final tour. They end in New York. It's the end of so many things. And the beginning of something more. She knows all the acts; the secrets; the whispers, the timings. The sleight of hand of the close up specialty. It took time, it took bruises, it took flesh, and broken parts. But, when Rosselli retired, Via D'Angelo began her solo act. That was the beginning of the end. She was not Adriel Rosselli, and she had aged beyond the standards of expectation. The elegance, grace and the exuberance that LA had taught her. New York was a ballgame she barely knew how to play. But she stayed. She had too. Where else would she pick up and go - back? To hear the rumours, and the whispers of the past greatness of Rosselli. No. Never. So, she got creative. Performed in smaller, nicher places where whispers had value. They meant something; they had names; prices attached. She could bet, and win against her card tricks, play the fool, the smart, the magician. Eventually, it struck someone; a Syndicate initiate, and then another and Via had a talent for deception that rivalled plenty actresses; smiles were dangerous. She could be anyone. But Via D'Angelo was anyone but the man who'd given her the taste of a life she was still chasing.

➵  CONNECTIONS

ADRIEL "ADI" ROSSELLI | MAGICIAN. MARC GILLESPIE | FATHER SARA D'ANGELO | MOTHER, deceased. PAOLO D'ANGELO | STEP-FATHER, deceased. GIOVANNI D'ANGELO | OLDER BROTHER, missing. HANNA D'ANGELO | DAUGHTER, estranged.

➵  HEADCANONS

Eats fruit off a butterfly.

Watch one's pockets. Wallets; watches; documents. It's a clever sleight of hand vanishing act.

One of her favourite throwing knives, often always on her person, she’s named Hecate.

Via had every part to do with Rosselli's assistant's accident. Sharing the spotlight had no longer been her angle. Incident of the vanishing act was '97.

Rosselli's final tour was in 2014, she has been in NYC since.

Shot some movies in her past, silver screen if someone asks. But don't ask.

Her daughter Hanna was a sad accident with another performer on a night in LA. She put Hanna into the system. Her career had no room for children; pregnancy almost ended it more than once. She got no information besides notification of her adoption. She doesn't know her daughter's new family name. Or where she is now. It is probably better that way.

Had on and off flings, never a relationship in any meaningful sense of the word. Performer lifestyle practically dictates illicit acts, vices and dalliances. But never committal.